#plan b skateboards

[murderdolls-1331]

🔥🔥🛹🔥🔥

#plan b #plan b skateboards #skatevideo #skateordie #🛹 #🔥 #Youtube

[handcsports]

#girl skateboards #plan b skateboards

[spanktony]

MISSED OPPORTUNITIES - maddy perez

summary: you can paired up with maddy for a project, little do you know there’s some lingering feelings in the air.

words: 3.8k

warnings: 18+, riding, g!p reader, reader being oblivious, rue, elliot & reader talk abt pegging and b*ssy 😭

notes: might be ooc maddy or bad dialogue, haven’t wrote for my baby in a while! sorry!

navigation. request.

"Maddy and Y/N."

Maddy didn't exactly know you, but yes, she's seen you. She had noticed you from a distance, watching as you'd come to school on your skateboard nearly every day, and on the days you didn't, you'd gotten a ride from Elliot.

Then you'd proceed to come into fifth period with baggy pants, a beanie on your head, and a nonchalant attitude.

Maddy wondered what it would be like to strike up a conversation with you. But, Maddy couldn't gather the courage to approach you, fearing rejection or awkwardness.

Maddy often found herself stealing glances at you during class, watching you bop your head to the music playing through your earphones.

Maddy couldn't help but wonder what kind of music you were listening to and if you'd ever consider sharing your playlist with her.

You take your wired airpod out of your ear, making sure you heard your teacher correctly. You glance around the classroom, catching Maddy's eye. She quickly looks away, blushing slightly.

"So! Now to go over your assignment." You lean back in your chair, listening to the instructions your teacher is giving. "As we all know, spring break is coming up, and I'm sure many of you have exciting plans. Although, the school wants to do something fun to celebrate the break. We thought it would be a great idea for you guys to come up with an event-type fundraiser for the school. It could be anything from a bake sale to a talent show, as long as it's creative and engaging."

Your teacher pauses, scanning the room for reactions. "Then, once you finish your assignment, the school will vote for the best event idea, and we will make it happen during spring break. This way, you will not only have a chance to showcase your creativity but also contribute to the school community in a meaningful way. So, let's brainstorm and come up with some amazing event ideas that will make this spring break even more memorable!"

Your teacher claps, encouraging the class to get up and start sharing their event ideas with their partner. The class gets up, except for you. You hesitate for a moment, feeling a bit unsure about Maddy being your partner.

Now, you didn't know Maddy personally, but you had heard some rumors about her, and you knew her boyfriend, Nate, a dickhead who'd often cause trouble. One time, Nate chased you with her truck, nearly running you over as you frantically tried to escape on your skateboard.

You never talked to Nate nor even looked his way, but he had always given you menacing looks whenever you crossed paths, along with the rest of the football team. It was tiring, annoying, and made you feel constantly on edge whenever you were near them.

You're knocked out of your thoughts when Maddy appears in front of your sight, a slight smile on her lips. "Y/N, right?" You nod, sitting up in your seat. "Yeah..." Maddy chuckles and nods, her smile widening.

"Were you gonna keep thinking about the great depression or come over to my desk so we can discuss this project?" You crack a smile at Maddy's playful comment and quickly gather your belongings, making your way over to her desk.

-

You're at Maddy's house. It's been a week since you've been working on the project together. Maddy had a completely different personality from her boyfriend. She was inviting but at the same time closed off, she'd open up about her interests and passions but rarely talked about her personal life or emotions.

You move to the edge of the bed, taking your notebook with you. "So...uh, so far we have a spring dance, a photography exhibit, and a...twerk party? Did you add that one?"

Maddy giggles, hiding her face behind her hands. "No, that one was all you," she says, her laughter contagious. "I swear I didn't write that." You can't help but smile at Maddy's infectious laughter. It's refreshing to see her so carefree and playful, even if she still keeps certain aspects of herself guarded.

Maddy crawls to the edge of the bed, leaning in to read the notebook. You hold in your breath, her being so close to you, sending a rush of warmth through your body. "You can add karaoke, that sounds fun," Maddy suggests, you nod, taking the pencil from behind your ear and jotting down her suggestion in the notebook.

Maddy bites down on her lip, watching you with a smile. "What...?" You whisper, confused and intrigued by her sudden change in demeanor. She leans in closer, her eyes dancing across your face.

"Do you always ride your skateboard to school? I've been meaning to ask." You feel a flutter of excitement at Maddy's interest in your daily routine. "Yeah, I've been skateboarding to school for a while now. I have a car, but it's more fun, to be honest," you reply, fiddling with the pencil in your hands.

Maddy's eyes fall to your skateboard propped on her wall before falling back on you. "You look hot when you ride it too." Her compliment catches you off guard, and a blush creeps up on your cheeks. "Thanks, Maddy," you say with a shy smile.

"We can take a break," Maddy suggests, taking the notebook out of your lap and setting it aside. You lay back against Maddy's bed, and she does the same, turning her head towards you.

"Any more ideas?" You ask, turning your head towards her. Maddy smiles, "Girl, what part of a break don't you understand?" You chuckle at Maddy's response, your face heating up. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Maddy reassures you, her eyes twinkling with amusement. You turn on your side, propping your head up with your hand. Maddy does the same, jokingly mocking you. "You know, I was thinking we should totally have a secret handshake. Something so ridiculous, only we'd get it."

You laugh at Maddy's suggestion, imagining the two of you coming up with a silly secret handshake. "Like what?"

Maddy sits up, sitting on her feet. You sit up as well, sitting criss-cross apple sauce. Maddy softly takes your hand, "We could dap up..." She moves your hand to the side and starts doing a series of intricate hand movements, "then do a link our pinkies...and seal it with a kiss."

You watch in awe as Maddy effortlessly demonstrates the complex sequence of hand movements. The idea of sealing the secret handshake with a kiss makes you blush, feeling as if you were floating on cloud nine.

"Ready?" Maddy asks, her eyes filled with excitement. You nod eagerly, beginning the intricate hand movements. As you mirror Maddy's movements, your fingers fumble at first, but with each repetition, you start to gain confidence and precision, sealing it with a kiss every time.

"Maddy!" Someone shouts from behind, interrupting your secret handshake. Startled, you quickly break away, turning around to see Maddy's mom at the door. "Dinners ready."

You exchange a sheepish glance with Maddy. "I should probably get going." You say to Maddy, glancing at her door, her mom now gone. Maddy nods understandingly, a hint of disappointment in her eyes. "Yeah, I guess we can finish practicing our handshake later," she says with a small smile.

You reluctantly leave, and you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the next time you see Maddy.

-

You lean against Rue's locker, watching the students pass by in the bustling hallway. Thoughts of Maddy replay in your mind making you smile to yourself. Maybe there's something more between you two than just friendship.

But your smile fades, remembering Nate Jacobs. We're they still together? How bad would it be if you did try to pursue Maddy?

Regardless of the bad thoughts running through your head, you can't deny the growing connection you feel towards her, leaving you torn between taking a chance or playing it safe.

You take out your airpod, glancing between Elliot and Rue. "Guys...am I attractive?" Elliot and Rue stop their conversation, exchanging puzzled looks. "Yes," Elliot simply says.

"I'd say so, yes," Rue adds, nodding her head.

Their affirmations boost your confidence, but a part of you still questions if their opinions are biased. Nevertheless, their words provide a small glimmer of hope that pursuing something with Maddy might not be as complicated as you initially thought.

"Let's say...there's this girl, right?" They both nod, and you continue. "And...she's like...giving... I want you, but I don't know if you want me vibes, you know?" Elliot raises an eyebrow while Rue stares at you, waiting for you to elaborate.

"Like! I know she likes likes me, but I don't know how to let her know I like like her." You pause for a moment, trying to find the right words to convey your dilemma. "It's like we're both playing this game and we're afraid to make the first move because we don't want to get rejected or ruin our friendship."

Rue shrugs. "Sounds like you both need a little push," she suggests. "Maybe stop being a little bitch and make a move?" You chuckle nervously at Rue's straightforward advice, appreciating her bluntness. "I guess you're right," you reply.

Elliot puts his hands on his hips. "But are you not curious as to who she's talking about?" Elliot asks Rue, raising an eyebrow.

"It's probably BB." You grimace, "That's not funny, Rue." Elliot tilts his head, confused. "BB? Like, the vape addict, BB?" Rue nods at Elliot, confirming his suspicions.

"You're gross..." He mutters, frowning at you. You make a blank face, "It's not BB, bro."

Elliot puts a hand over his heart. "Oh, thank god." "Who is it then?" Elliot asks, his curiosity piqued. You pause for a moment, debating whether or not to reveal the truth. "Uh..."

Just then, Maddy walks up to you, smiling slightly. "Hey, Y/N." You smile, giving the girl a small wave. "Hey, Rue and Elliot," Maddy adds, earning tight-lipped smiles and nods from the two.

Maddy then holds out her hand, and you're surprised she'd wanna do the handshake in front of Elliot and Rue. You quickly glance at them before reluctantly taking Maddy's hand and reciprocating the handshake, indeed ending it with a kiss.

While you release your grip, you notice a flicker of confusion in Elliot's eyes, but he remains silent. Rue, on the other hand, seems unfazed and continues to observe the interaction with a calm expression.

"Walk me to class?" Maddy asks. You hesitate for a moment, aware of the potential consequences of being seen together, but ultimately decide to go along with it. "Sure," you respond, offering her a small smile as the two of you start walking towards her class.

As expected, Nate Jacobs passed the two of you without acknowledging your presence. He keeps his gaze straight ahead, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. You turn around to see if he's still watching, but he's already disappeared into the crowd of students. You feel a sense of relief, grateful that he didn't make a scene or confront you about being with Maddy.

-

Elliot takes a hit of his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air. Rue lets out a sigh. "I can't believe a community service event won against your and Maddy's spring dance."

You shrug. "I don't really care. I still got the A." Elliot nods. "So, do you and Maddy still talk? Or have you been talking during the break?"

You hum, "Yeah, we'll Facetime a bit and hang out every now and then." Elliot raises an eyebrow. "Interesting. Are you two just friends, or is there something more going on?"

"Just friends." You confirm. Rue cuts in, "Because you're a little bitchhhh..." You roll your eyes at Rue's comment. "Aren't you the one who nearly skipped town with Jules?"

"Yeah, well, that's different. Jules and I have a deeper connection," Rue retorts defensively. You shake your head, not wanting to get into an argument with Rue. "Whatever."

You glance at Elliot, hoping to change the subject. "So, Elliot, what about you? Are you seeing anyone special?" Elliot chuckles and shakes his head. "Nope, just enjoying the single life for now."

"I think he secretly wants to have a threesome with Jules and me." You and Elliot burst into laughter at Rue's comment, finding it amusing but also slightly uncomfortable. "I think you and Jules want me to want to have a threesome with you guys so you can feel good about yourselves."

Rue raises an eyebrow playfully. "Oh, is that what you think? You're totally wrong."

"What if we had a threesome?" Elliot suggests, jokingly. Rue laughs. "Yeah, and we just pegged Elliot the entire time." Elliot joins in on the laughter but quickly interjects, "Woah, woah! Why me?"

Rue smirks mischievously. "Well, you did bring up the idea, didn't you? It's only fair that you take the spotlight." Elliot's face turns slightly red as he stammers, "I-I was just kidding! I didn't actually mean it!"

You grimace, "Enough about pegging! I just got reminded of Silento."

"Silento? What does he have to do with this conversation?" Rue asks, raising an eyebrow.

Elliot mouths, "Bussy," and Rue frowns, fake gagging.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, distracting you from the strange conversation. You quickly pull it out to see a message from Maddy, smiling at the message.

maddy - wyd

"Maddy just texted me, what am I doing?" Rue lets out a dramatic gasp. "She's a wyd warrior? Brace yourself, Y/N." You chuckle at Rue's dramatic reaction.

you - nm, u?

maddy - home alone and extremely bored

maddy - you wanna come over?

"Holy shit." Elliot is nearly breaking his neck to look at your phone screen. "Maddy wants you to come over? She def wants to fuck." You raise an eyebrow at Elliot's assumption and shake your head.

"No she doesn't." You look at Elliot who stares at you with a raised eyebrow. "She doesn't!"

Rue joins in, "Then she would've asked for Cassie. Not you." Elliot nods in agreement. "And she's home alone."

You consider their points for a moment, realizing that they may have a valid argument. Anyway, you still believe that Maddy's intention is simply to alleviate her boredom. "Well, maybe she just feels more comfortable hanging out with me," you suggest.

"Why are you plotting your own downfall?" Rue raises an eyebrow, questioning your reasoning. Elliot chimes in, "If Maddy wanted company, she could have invited anyone else. It seems weird that she specifically asked for you."

you - omw

You get up from the bed and say, "See you guys later."

Rue yells after you, "Don't be a little bitch!"

-

"Why are your parents out?" You ask Maddy, plopping down on her bed. Maddy shrugs and replies, "They went out for dinner. My dad finally found a job."

You raise an eyebrow at Maddy's response and ask, "So why did you specifically want me to come over tonight?" Maddy hesitates for a moment before saying, "I just thought it would be nice to have some company."

You sense there's something more to Maddy's invitation, but you decide not to push further. Instead, you lean back on her bed and let out a contented sigh. Maddy sits on her feet before lying down beside you.

"You smell like cigarettes." You glance at Maddy, slightly surprised by her comment. "Oh, sorry about that," you say, realizing that the faint smell of cigarettes must have clung to your clothes from earlier. "I was hanging out with some friends earlier, and they were smoking."

Maddy stares at your face, and you feel yourself becoming self-conscious under her gaze. "I am so jealous of your eyebrows," her thumb begins, tracing the shape of your brow.

"They're so perfectly arched," she continues, a small smile playing on her lips. You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you thank her for the compliment, appreciating her attention to detail.

Maddy's eyes leave your eyebrows and fall to your lips. You notice a flicker of curiosity in her gaze as she leans in slightly. You clench your jaw, frozen in place, you were nervous as fuck. Your heart pounds in your chest, unsure of what might happen next.

Maddy pauses for a moment, her eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. Sensing your unease, she leans back slightly, giving you space.

Shit...did you just blow it? You watch Maddy's reaction, you try to gather your thoughts and find the right words to salvage the moment. The silence hangs heavy in the air, and you swallow hard, feeling the weight of the missed opportunity.

-

"No fucking way," Elliot mumbles as you finish your sentence. He shakes his head in disbelief. "You fumbled badly."

You run a hand down your face, "I know." Elliot pats you on the back, "Have fun dealing with that one. I gotta get to class."

You narrow your eyes, "Since when did you start going to class?"

Elliot chuckles, "Since I realized that I might not be getting my diploma." You give him a playful shove, "Well, good luck with that. Maybe I'll see you at graduation."

Elliot raises an eyebrow, "Don't hold your breath." He turns and walks away, leaving you alone to ponder the consequences of your missed kiss with Maddy.

You lean against your locker, scrolling through your playlists before landing on the one you made for Maddy. Well, she didn't know you did because you hadn't shown her yet.

You press play, and the familiar melodies fill your ears, but suddenly your headphones get snatched from your ear. You lift your head to see one of the footballers, Tyler, smirking down at you. "Who the hell still wears wires?"

You roll your eyes, annoyed by Tyler's interruption, reaching out to grab them back. Tyler chuckles and shrugs, moving them before you can reach them. "You should upgrade to wireless, man. It's the future," he says with a teasing tone.

"You're so fucking annoying." You mumble, exasperated by Tyler's teasing. "What the fuck did you just say to me?" Tyler's smirk fades as he hears your response, his playful demeanor turning more serious.

He leans in closer, his voice lowering as he confronts you. "You better watch your mouth, or you'll regret it."

"This isn't some Disney show, dude. Can I just have my headphones back?" You ask, trying to diffuse the tension. Tyler's eyes narrow as he considers your request, his grip on your headphones tightening. "Maybe I'll give them back if you apologize," he proposes, a hint of superiority in his voice.

"Nah, man. I can always buy another pair." You say, attempting to walk away from the escalating situation. But before you can take a step, Tyler slams you back against the locker, throwing your headphones on the ground before stomping on them.

"Why? They're right there." He smirks, pointing at the broken headphones. He pats your shoulder before walking away, leaving you stunned and seething with anger. You stand there, anger boiling inside you.

He was a dickhead who obviously craved attention because he lacks it at home.

"What the hell happened to you?" You turn around to see Maddy approaching with a concerned look on her face. You take a deep breath, "Nothing, but I'm about to leave school."

Maddy's concern deepens as she notices the anger in your voice. "Are you sure you're okay? You hesitate for a moment, contemplating whether or not to confide in her about Tyler's actions. You nod, picking up your broken headphones.

"You wanna come with?" Maddy hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to respond. She finally nods and says, "Yeah, I'll come with you." You smile gratefully at her.

-

The sun has now set, and you're in your car in a secluded area. Maddy smiles, the last song on the playlist you made from her finishing. "Send me that now!"

You laugh, "I will, swear."

You feel a sense of relief knowing that Maddy enjoyed the playlist you made for her. You meet Maddy's gaze, and your heart swells with gratitude for her presence and the connection you share.

Rue's words echo in your mind, "Don't be a little bitch."

You take a deep breath, letting Rue's words motivate you to push through any fear or hesitation. You softly place a hand on Maddy's cheek, pulling her into a gentle kiss. Maddy sinks in the kiss, leaning forward to deepen the kiss.

The kiss deepens, and you can feel Maddy's nails lightly graze the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Without hesitating, you pull the Latina into your lap with slightly shaking hands.

You pull away in a desperate need for air, but Maddy takes this as a chance to attack your neck, nipping and sucking on your sensitive skin, while grinding in your lap.

You let out a low groan, grasping her hips tightly as you surrender to the energy between you. Maddy's lips trail to your neck, to your jaw, and then back in an intense kiss, her hands roaming over your body.

The kiss becomes messy, her tongue sliding against yours, making your head swim with lust.  Your hands lift her skirt up, feeling the heat and smoothness of her thighs beneath your fingertips.

Maddy's breath hitches, pulling away from the kiss. You think you've done something wrong, but then you see the hunger in her eyes and the way her chest rises and falls rapidly. She leans in close, whispering in your ear, "I wanna ride you so bad."

Heat pools in your lower abdomen as you imagine Maddy straddling you, her body pressed against yours, moving in sync with your every touch. You bring Maddy into another kiss, she begins to grind on your hard-on, her movements becoming more urgent and desperate.

You lift Maddy up slightly, pulling down your pants with one hand while supporting her with the other. You reach back into her skirt, moving her underwear aside, before sliding into her wetness. 

Maddy moans softly, her nails digging into your shoulder as she begins to move her hips in rhythm with your thrusts.

The eye contact is strong, fueling the intensity between you both. Maddy's gasps become louder, her body arching against yours in, "Mm..fuck! You feel so good, baby."

You let out a small groan, throwing your head back against your seat as the pleasure builds. Maddy's moans fill the confined space of the car, encouraging you to increase the pace, lost in the passionate moment.

Your hands grip her waist tighter, guiding her movements as the desire between you escalates.  The car rocks with each thrust, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the enclosed space. The intensity reaches its peak, and with one final gasp, Maddy explodes into a state of euphoria, holding onto you tightly.

"Y/N!!" You hold onto her, her body trembling in your arms as she catches her breath. You gently stroke her hair, whispering words of comfort and affection as you both bask in the afterglow.

#spanktony works #spanktony #tonyspank #maddy perez x reader #maddy perez #euphoria #maddy euphoria #madtdy perez x g!p reader #maddy perez x you #maddy perez x y/n #maddy x reader #maddy perez smut #maddy perez fluff #g!p reader #g!p #maddy perez x gender neutral reader #euphoria x reader #euphoria x y/n

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-three of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon.

So alright, Tim may have made some miscalculations here. Or at least one very serious miscalculation, anyway. Kon is a hopeless flirt who always wants attention and to be the most interesting person in the room, and so perhaps inserting Tim Drake into his life as a person determined to give him attention and treat him like the most interesting person in the room while also flirting back was not, in fact, the best plan.

Or, more succinctly: Tim is a fucking idiot. 

After the mall, where Tim nearly fell off that bench twice more and Kon showed him everything he’d picked out to try on and Tim bought him literally every single piece of it that fit, some of it in multiple colors, and Kon, the bastard, then decided to wear the strap-covered leather pants and S-shield crop top out into actual public for the rest of their not-date, because he is, again, a bastard who Tim had to eat lunch with in the food court while he was smugly preening and peacocking in his stupid leather pants and crop top–after the mall, Tim realized he had a problem, and that problem was a) everything about Superman and Cadmus but especially actually-claimed-to-be-a-decent-person Superman and also b) Kon might actually like him as a person. Like. Genuinely and actually like him. 

That is definitely not something Tim planned for. Not in one single solitary contingency plan did he ever even consider “Kon actually liking Tim Drake as a person” as being a potential issue. Kon should have better taste than that, for one thing. Tim Drake is a photography nerd and a nerd-nerd and he's not all that interesting or attractive. He has weird taste in video games and only likes the role-playing games that literally nobody actually plays. And he isn't even that good at skateboarding! 

It has occurred to Tim, perhaps, that while Kon definitely is and always has been a flirt, he may have been basing his previous personal assumptions about how "serious" any more focused forms of flirting have been less on Kon himself and more on other people's reactions to said flirting. That it might not be Kon who's getting bored and moving on at the drop of a hat. 

Meaning, for all he knows Kon only really hits on people he's actually interested in and is simultaneously absolutely attention-starved enough to devote himself to anyone who so much as implies any kind of reciprocal interest. 

So that's . . . something to take under consideration, possibly. And be wary of, possibly. 

Except . . . 

It's kind of bad that Tim wants to just lean into it, isn't it. That he wants to–wants to encourage it. 

That he wants to devote himself back to that devotion in turn and see just how far it goes. 

Yeah, that cannot be a healthy thought process to be having, under the circumstances. 

But Tim's having it, all the same. And it wouldn't be that bad, would it? He actually does like Kon, for starters. He's not trying to use him or take advantage of him. Manipulate him a little, yeah, obviously, but Tim is pretty sure he's literally incapable of not manipulating the people he cares about at this point in his life, so . . . 

Possibly he should work on that? Like, come to think. 

But that's a later-problem. Somewhere between now and supervillainy. 

Anyway, Superman decided it was perfectly fucking fine to leave Kon in a literal fucking lab that wasn't even paying or educating him or anything, so Tim feels pretty secure in his current moral high ground. He is the Obi-Wan Kenobi of this situation and he has absolutely no reservations about that fact. 

At least as long as Kon's happy, anyway. 

Tim could maybe make him happy, he's realizing. Like . . . if Kon really does like him like that, he means. He could get him a homey little place in Gotham, like a studio downtown or maybe a small estate in Bristol, and he could take him on dates to actually nice places, and he could hang out with him on the weekends and play whatever video games he's into. They could actually spend time together where Kon doesn't think he has to be either “cool” or just like Superman, and where Tim doesn't have to be professional and emotionally distant. Time where Kon could be a normal guy and Tim wouldn't have to wear a mask. 

It's . . . tempting. 

Really, really tempting. 

Anyway, that's why Tim is currently planning the nicest and least-ethical date of his life while on patrol with Nightwing. Japanese food is still probably his best bet, since neither Gotham nor Metropolis is exactly spoiled for Hawaiian food and actually flying Kon all the way to Hawaii might be coming on a little bit too strong for a first date, and obviously he's not going to make Kon fly him there. He's the one planning this date, and he will not be cheating said planning or skimping on the budget by taking advantage of anyone's superpowers. 

Besides, Kon still doesn't actually have superspeed so it'd probably take like eight hours to get there. At least six, depending on the weather and the headwind. And it wouldn't exactly make for prime small-talk time, either. 

So yeah, Japanese food is sounding better and better. The only Hawaiian food Tim's actually tracked down around here with decent reviews is a food truck, and that's just not “nice first date” vibes. He promised Kon someplace nice for their actual official first date, and he is gonna deliver on said “nice” or die trying. 

Possibly literally, considering. 

“You seem a little distracted, baby bird,” Dick says as he pulls him up out of the filthy waters of the Gotham River. Tim considers explaining Kon's thighs to him, then resolves to never, ever explain Kon's thighs to him. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I have a YJ-related op to plan and I'm having trouble keeping my mind off it.” 

“Understandable,” Dick says, then yanks them both behind a dumpster as Two-Face's latest crop of dichotomous thugs catch up again and bullets start flying. “Maybe right now is not the ideal time for that, though?” 

Tim wonders if Bludhaven has decent Hawaiian food. 

“Valid,” he says. “Hey, do you think a planetarium is a stupid date idea?” 

“That depends entirely on who the date is with,” Dick says, pulling out his escrima sticks. Tim takes the cue to grab and extend his bo. “Nothing’s stupid if it'd make the person you're taking happy. Four o'clock.” 

“Thanks,” Tim says as he whips a birdarang into the gun hand of the guy running up behind them. Dick has a point, really, but unfortunately not a point that is helpful when planning a date with a teammate Tim actually still doesn’t know all that much about the interests and hobbies of. He knows Kon is interested in Krypton, but that doesn’t mean he’s interested in astronomy or space in general. It’s likelier he only cares about Krypton because of Superman, and maybe his own DNA. 

Tim remembers Kon saying he’d never seen anything from Krypton but kryptonite before, which means he is in fact the person who introduced Kon to the first piece of Krypton he ever saw and he did it in an attempt to take him out while Kon was under Poison Ivy’s influence, which is frankly terrible but not as terrible as the fact Superman only just introduced him to anything else about Krypton. 

On that note, Tim needs to work on those plans for weaponized red sunlight this weekend. Maybe after he gets Japanese food with Kon and embarrasses himself by taking him to the planetarium. 

Would he like the aquarium, maybe? It might remind him of Hawaii, and Hawaii probably still feels more like home to him than anywhere else does, so it’s at least a valid hypothesis. Then again, he probably preferred the beach and sky to the marine life. Admittedly, Tim doesn’t actually know that, so it’s still a possibility. 

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Dick says. 

“I’m not,” Tim only technically lies, whipping another series of birdarangs around the corner of the dumpster, along with a few smoke pellets. They take the cover and run for better positions. “I’m theorizing, that’s all.” 

“Theorizing a date you don’t have anyone to take on?” Dick asks in amusement. “Is that a thing you do a lot of, baby bird?” 

“No,” Tim definitely lies. “I was just thinking about when I used to go out with Spoiler and how to translate that to civilian dating. It’s . . . an issue. Especially after how things went with the last civilian I tried to date.” 

Not that Kon’s a civilian, obviously, but he needs to keep thinking Tim Drake is one. Therefore, patrol dates are still out. And really wouldn’t count as taking him anywhere “nice” anyway, really. Tim needs to step up his game. At least, like, undercover at a gala or something. Or maybe on a yacht. 

Actually, maybe Kon would like to go to a yacht party? Does Kon like boats? Did he do boats in Hawaii? Was that a thing? 

Possible option to research, again. Note to self. 

“Not dating civilians helps,” Dick offers helpfully, then leaps into the air with the kind of height most people couldn’t get off a rocket-powered springboard and comes down in the middle of a cluster of disoriented goons with his sticks already electric and crackling. Tim is both incredibly jealous and duly impressed. “Just in my experience, mind!” 

“Please explain to me who in the community you think I could possibly date when B won’t even let me tell Young Justice my first name or be seen in public with the team at all,” Tim says dubiously, following the path he’s cleared and sweeping up a few stragglers with his staff as he does. It’s one thing not to tell a civilian you’re a superhero, but to not tell another superhero about your civilian life . . . “Any suggestions. Go right ahead.” 

“. . . maybe you should just go ask Spoiler to take you back, buddy,” Dick says with a bit of a wince, not unsympathetically. 

“That would incredibly stupid of me, seeing as we came to a mutual agreement that we shouldn’t date specifically because B wouldn’t let me tell her my name,” Tim says dryly.

“So anyway, civilians!” Dick says brightly, doing a very complicated and fancy-looking backflip that somehow ends up in a roundhouse kick that takes out three guys at once and then landing feet-first on a fourth’s head, because Nightwing is a terrifying badass like that. Tim, again, is jealously impressed. “I hate to say it but you need to case-by-case basis this, Robin, there’s no ‘one size dates all’, you know?” 

“That’d be a lot more convenient,” Tim sighs, jabbing his staff into a few joints and then tripping one of the more dogged grunts with it. She hits the ground face-first with a yelp and the distinct crunch of a breaking nose. Tim might feel a bit bad about that if she and her whole crew weren’t actively trying to murder them for the crime of inconveniencing an arms deal. That seems like a very disproportionate response to him, honestly. When he’s running the Gotham underworld, he’s going to make it very clear to his foot soldiers that unnecessary escalation is not actually a useful long-term survival strategy. It just doesn’t go well, historically speaking. “What if I just throw money at them? Is throwing money at them a valid strategy?” 

“Not even slightly,” Dick says dryly. 

Tim thinks that’s probably not true under these specific circumstances, though he supposes offering fiscal security isn’t the best first move in flirting. Probably not romantic enough or whatever. 

Tim thinks taking care of someone for the entire rest of their life is perfectly romantic, actually, but fine, he’ll buy some damn aquarium tickets and then do the bank fraud. 

Nobody wants to commit these days.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #young just us #young justice #long post #rinfic #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

[helloalycia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] —𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

summary: Jackie and you become closer and she takes it as a challenge to make you fall for her charms.

warning/s: none.

author’s note: part 2 is finally here, sorry for the delay! i’ve had a migraine all day otherwise i would’ve posted this earlier 😅 hope you like it!

one / three / masterlist / wattpad

A month passed and any reminder of my conflict with Leroy and Tiffany had faded into oblivion. Jackie was correct in assuming they'd drop their beef with me, and once my hand was healed and Jackie's face no longer looked like an overly inflated balloon, there was nothing left to remind me of the incidents that occurred.

The only thing to come out of the whole experience was being a little more than acquaintances with Jackie. I couldn't go as far as saying we were friends, but she definitely felt the need to greet me more whenever she saw me in class, and I didn't mind returning the favour.

The real shift in our relationship began when Van, Jackie, Shauna and I were grouped up for a History class project. It was a presentation we needed to pull together, so we'd all made plans to meet up to discuss everything over coffee, which is how I found myself driving there with Van in my new car.

"You know you're gonna have to take me everywhere now," Van pointed out from the passenger seat with a grin. "I'm gonna be your passenger princess."

I laughed. "Hey, I don't mind. It's a bit of a rust bucket, but it beats skateboarding everywhere." I paused, then added, "Who am I kidding? I'm gonna miss skateboarding everywhere."

"We can still hit up the skate park every now and then," she promised. "But driving is a lot easier, you can't lie."

I smiled in agreement. After using some of my savings and convincing my parents it was time to get a car, they bought me an old, second-hand banger from one of my dad's friends who owned a garage. It wasn't the best looking car, but after a wash and a little bit of sprucing up with some car accessories, it looked decent enough to serve its purpose.

Conveniently, I pulled up at the coffee shop at the same time as Shauna, who was parking a few spots down. When Van and I jumped out the car with our bags, Jackie and Shauna were already approaching us.

"Hey," Shauna greeted us both with a smile, before nodding with approval at my car. "Love the new ride, Y/L/N."

"Thanks," I said with proud smile.

"You got to the part where you have to fill the tyres with air?" she asked with amusement. "It's so awkward when everyone watches you do it."

I snorted with amusement. "I'll be lucky if I get that far. This thing is trying its best right now."

She chuckled and glanced over it once more. "It's still pretty nice. Gets you from A to B, right? Driving saves so much time, trust me."

"Very true," I agreed, before I noticed Jackie checking it out curiously, having greeted Van already. I quirked a brow as I jokingly asked, "What? Not up to the princess' standards?"

Van and Shauna exchanged amused glances whilst Jackie shot me a playful glare.

"That's not what I was thinking," she said matter-of-factly.

I stopped by her side to look at it like she was, giving her a sideways glance. "I was kidding. Kind of."

She gave me a knowing look. "It's nice."

I tried not to laugh as I said, "Thank you."

She rolled her eyes playfully before the four of us headed inside to find a table. After claiming a booth in the corner, we pulled out our supplies and textbooks to get started.

"I'll go order our drinks," I offered, before we got stuck in. "Everybody know what they want?"

After they shared their orders with me, I slid out the booth to get in the queue, but Jackie slid out alongside me.

"You might need more hands to carry it," she said, when I quirked a brow.

I shrugged and the two of us got in line to order. It didn't take long to reach the front, and after giving the barista our order and paying, Jackie decided she wanted a muffin that was on display.

"Shoot, I'm so sorry to be annoying," she said with her signature smile, albeit a little apologetic, as she pointed to the muffin. "Please can we get that too?"

The guy, probably no older than we were, nodded eagerly and got the muffin for her, placing it on the tray. "Of course. It's on the house."

I resisted the urge to smile as I raised an eyebrow, watching Jackie laugh flirtatiously.

"No! Really?" she asked with bright eyes. "You're too sweet!"

The guy shrugged casually, his cheeks turning pink as she gave him all her attention in this moment. Before we knew it, our drinks were added to the tray and I picked it up to leave.

"Thanks again," she said with a tilt of her head and a matching smile.

He watched her leave distractedly, and only when we were walking away did I let out a quiet chuckle at what I'd just witnessed.

"What?" she asked, glancing at me, as if she didn't know what she'd done.

I gave her a look of disbelief. "Seriously?" Her confused expression forced me to continue. "You just bat your eyes and get what you want?"

She looked up thoughtfully before nodding. "Pretty much."

Breathing out through my nose, I shook my head with amazement. It made sense that even strangers fell victim to the Jackie Taylor effect.

"Can you get some napkins?" she asked, flashing me the same smile she gave the barista, but I would be damned if she thought she could fool me.

"Not a chance," I said with a stifled laugh, equally amused by her frown as I was her audacity.

I returned to the booth as she went to grab some napkins for us, and the four of us got stuck in immediately. As well as getting the base of our presentation researched, we also had a nice bonding session. To be fair, Van already knew Jackie and Shauna well, but I enjoyed getting to know them too.

I especially learnt that Jackie was pretty used to getting what she wanted whenever she wanted, and having people fall head over heels for her. This was something that came to light the more time we spent together working on this project. I guess you could say that the project is what intertwined our lives again once more.

—

After yet another studying session with Jackie, Shauna and Van in the library last night, I realised I grabbed Jackie's notebook by accident and planned to return it to her the next morning at school. I found her by her locker, but she was in a conversation with Jeff and I debated whether or not to interrupt.

They weren't together, the two of them surprisingly staying broken up unlike the many other times they'd somehow got back together, so it was odd to see them talking. But it wasn't any of my business, even if I was a little curious to whether they were back together – especially after everything that happened – so I just sucked it up and politely interrupted.

When I stopped by their side awkwardly, their conversation fell quiet and Jeff glanced at me, no doubt thinking of the whole Leroy incident. Without another word, he walked away, leaving Jackie and I alone.

"Sorry," I said to her uncomfortably, before holding out her notebook. "I just wanted to give you this."

"Oh, thanks," she said, blinking, before accepting the notebook. "I was looking for this all morning."

"Yeah, I must've grabbed it by accident," I said with a small smile. "My bad."

She nodded, and I was about to leave, but then she met my eyes and said, "That wasn't–"

She'd stopped, so I prodded, "Wasn't...?"

Uneasily, she explained, "He's been trying to get back together with me. Jeff."

I chewed on my lip, unsure what to respond, because she didn't owe me any kind of explanation. But a small part of me was nosy enough to want it.

"I'm not stupid, obviously," she continued.

"Obviously," I repeated in agreement, otherwise stumped for words.

"But yeah," she finished, a small, awkward smile on her lips. "That's it."

I mirrored her smile, nodding. "Awesome... er, thanks for the update."

She cleared her throat, nodding too, and then an uncomfortable silence filled the air. I was relieved, though I would never admit it, to know that she wasn't considering going back to him. It only reaffirmed all she'd said about listening to me, and it showed that she respected whatever friendship we seemed to share.

"I'll see you in class," I said, straightening up.

She relaxed her shoulders. "Yeah. See you."

—

Shortly after finishing our group assignment together, Jackie felt the need to work with me more often, for whatever reason. She had a lot of friends, so I couldn't see why she needed me in the mix also, but I guess I wasn't totally against it.

I was walking into Chemistry class when I spotted the blonde sat where my usual lab partner, Dennis, sat. Getting a sense of deja vu, I watched her questioningly as I set my stuff down in my seat.

"Is there a particular reason you're sat there?" I asked, when she flashed me a nonchalant smile.

Placing her chin in the palm of her hand, she stared at me through her lashes. "I feel like you don't know me well enough. So, I switched partners."

I resisted the urge to laugh, oddly intrigued by whatever game she was playing. "I mean, we've only been in the same classes all our life, but–"

"It's not the same," she insisted with a wave of her hand, making me laugh.

Not caring enough to be opposed to her trading seats with Dennis, I took a seat beside her and began to get my books out. As I did, our teacher, Mr Turner, approached our table with a stern expression.

"Miss Taylor," he addressed her. "Can I ask why you're not sitting in your assigned seat?"

I watched on with amusement, wondering how she'd get herself out of this one. But if she was sweating in the slightest, it didn't show.

Shooting Mr Turner her signature smile, she said, "I'm sorry, Mr Turner. I was just about to come and ask you permission. I thought moving beside Y/N here would help improve my grade and be less of a distraction than my old partner."

I quirked a brow, glancing between him and her, and watched as his expression softened slightly. Holy shit. The Jackie Taylor effect worked on teachers too?

"Very well," he conceded. "I suppose that's alright, if it's for the betterment of your learning. Just don't let me catch you chatting through my teaching, alright?"

She nodded innocently. "Of course. I'd never disrespect you like that."

My mouth opened slightly with disbelief, her pure arse kissing astounding me. Mr Turner nodded appreciatively before returning to the front of the classroom, and Jackie turned to me with a cheeky smile.

"I'm impressed," I admitted. "Everybody really loves you, huh?"

As she grabbed her book, she shrugged, though gave me a sideways glance as if she was pouting. "Almost everyone."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "C'mon, Jackie. You have the whole school– heck, probably the whole world at your fingertips. Why are you so adamant on making me like you?"

She raised her brows impatiently. "Because I'm likeable!"

The pink tinge on her cheeks, darkening her already-existent blusher, paired with her impatience only served to make me grin. If I'd known treating Jackie Taylor like this would get her so flustered, I would have done it more often. It was definitely entertaining, and she was going through more effort than she needed to, which only made me laugh more.

As amusing as it was though, I knew she'd give up soon. I simply refused to let myself slip under the Jackie Taylor spell that she had over everyone – doing whatever she wanted, treating her like she was god's gift, there at her beck and call... Unlike every other poor soul who genuinely believed they had a chance with her, no doubt because she had a power to make you feel that way, I wasn't naive. Jackie Taylor was out of my league, as a friend or anything more.

I wasn't blind. Her powers of seduction were rooted in her beauty and ability to turn heads wherever she went. It was normal to have a tiny crush on her, I was sure of it, but I'd never let it be more than that.

Of course, there were small micro-moments where I'd let myself indulge for once, to be a little selfish and delirious. Like now, as she sat beside me in class, nodding along to what Mr Turner was explaining. From the corner of my eye, it was easy to make out the perfect curve of her jaw, the glossiness of her lips, the flutter of her eyelashes. And it would have been even easier to give into it all, especially when she asked me to grab her a lab coat from the back of the classroom, a soft smile on her lips and a single bat of her eyelashes.

But all it took was one relinquishment of power and I'd be just another fool who let Jackie Taylor create delusion in their heads. And I refused.

"I don't know what the arrangement between you and your last partner was, but here, you do things yourself," I said with a suppressed smile, appreciating the way her face dropped.

She tensed her jaw slightly, before trailing along behind me to grab a lab coat. After suiting up, we returned to our desk and I got out the lab equipment whilst she read over the worksheet we'd been given.

"Okay, first step is to turn on the bunsen burner," she read aloud, glancing at me expectantly.

"Great." I pushed over the bunsen burner to her. "Go on."

Indifferently, she straightened up and began to connect the hose to the bunsen burner, shooting me a knowing look as she connected the whole thing to the gas tap.

"I know how to do things myself, y'know," she said disapprovingly.

I chuckled. "I know, it's just fun watching you actually do it."

She huffed dramatically before twisting the gas tap without warning, making me jump back quickly as the flame lit up. Her eyes widened as she twisted it off, before falling to me with both concern and amusement.

"Shit, are you okay?" she asked, hand covering her mouth, but a smile was threatening to break out.

I released a breath, touching my shirt which almost set on fire, and shot her a look. "I am, yeah. No thanks to you!"

She began to laugh quietly. "I'm sorry. See? If you'd just done it for us, that wouldn't have happened."

"Oh, if I'd just done it for us?" I asked sarcastically, mimicking her voice.

"Yeah, you should've just listened–" she started, eyes darting between mine with entertainment.

"I should've just listened," I agreed, still as sarky as ever.

"Yes," she agreed between laughter.

I sighed, giving into my smile as she watched me with dismay. This was going to be a long lesson.

—

As much as I hated to admit it, I was enjoying having Jackie as my lab partner, looking forward to the hour lesson where she was as careless as ever when it came to our experiments, but to the satisfaction and humour of me. Of course, she could never know that all of her efforts to sway me were working, so I played it cool.

I definitely didn't expect to see her beyond that, so I was especially surprised when I showed up to the local community centre after school with the intention of improving my college application and saw her waiting outside with a few other students. I did a double take, her face being the last I expected to see.

"Hey," she said when she recognised me, moving to stand beside me with her usual blinding smile.

"Are you stalking me, Taylor?" I asked jokingly.

"You wish," she retorted with a playful eye roll. "I'm here because it looks good for my college application."

"Ah, of course."

She lifted a brow. "You?"

"Same," I admitted sheepishly, making her laugh.

Once the other students turned up, there were thirteen of us in total and the manager of the community centre met us outside to brief us. We were to work on the community garden over the coming weeks, helping to clean it up and plant some fresh produce and flowers to brighten up the place. Only once it was complete would we get a certificate of recognition for our efforts.

We got stuck in straight away, everyone assigned to different areas. Jackie and I were working on planting the flower beds, so the first thing to do was bring over the soil to the designated area. I heaved the giant bag of soil over my shoulder and brought it over, dropping it to the ground with a sigh and wiping the sweat from my head.

Giggling made me look up, and I watched as Jackie got some freshman to grab her bag, twirling her hair and fluttering her eyelashes as he dropped the bag beside mine.

"You're too sweet, Johnny," she said with a classic tilt of her head, touching his arm. "Thanks again."

He shrugged casually, clearly affected by her attention. "Anytime. You need a hand with anything else, just let me know."

She nodded in agreement and watched as he walked away before her eyes found mine.

"What?" she said like it was obvious. "It would've gotten my nails dirty."

I glanced down at the soil staining my shirt, before giving her a knowing look. "Wait until you start to plant the seeds."

Kneeling down, I used the spade provided to dig out the old dead plants from the flower beds. She kneeled down beside me, careful not to dirty her skirt as she did, and watched my hands work.

"I'm curious," I said, glancing at her. "Were you planning to help at all?"

She straightened up with a sense of pride. "Of course." And then reluctantly, she used her hands to help me remove the old plants, but not without pulling a face.

I tried not to laugh as I watched, finding a sense of satisfaction as her fingernails did indeed get stained with soil. Working alongside her, I used the spade to dig out the next plant, but it skidded across the soil, the plant too firm, and I ended up flicking a handful of soil at Jackie.

"Oh, shit," I said with a stifled smile, watching as she looked down at her clothes. "Sorry."

She breathed out slowly and dusted the soil off, but it left dark tracks in its midst. "It's fine."

"Good thing you wore your old clothes, right?" I asked, biting my lip to contain my smile.

She hummed in agreement, jaw tensing slightly, and a grin fell upon my lips. Everything she wore looked too nice to be considered old. Poor Jackie was probably not expecting to lift a finger.

For whatever reason, whether it was to prove me wrong or to prove her own point, she actually helped me with our tasks, no longer using freshmen to get everything done. It was fun, working with her, and it only gave me more time to appreciate spending with her.

Once we'd done our assigned two hours, it was finally time to leave for the day, and Jackie and I walked out together. Parked a few cars down from mine was Shauna's, and I gave Jackie a look of disbelief.

"You made Shauna pick you up?"

"Duh," she said with a shrug.

I breathed out slowly, looking up and shaking my head. "Why do I still get surprised?"

"What? That people love me?" she asked with a teasing voice.

"Yes."

She rolled her eyes, lips pressing into a smile. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. Until then, see you tomorrow."

I waved goodbye to her as she kept walking, trying to understand the hold she had on everyone. Her and her silly smiles and silly hazel eyes and silly raspy voice.

Annoyingly enough, I was starting to see it.

—

I found myself in Chemistry class later that week, doodling on my notebook as I waited for class to properly start. Jackie arrived as usual, greeting me, and when I looked up, I took a moment to find my words.

"You look different," I said without thinking, trying to figure it out.

"I'm pretty sure I don't," she said with a chuckle, sitting beside me like always.

But no, there was something different about her today, something that had me admiring her a little more closely than usual. And as I was subtly studying the freckles on her face, the slope of her nose, the golden flecks in her eyes, it hit me.

"Your hair," I said with realisation, making her look up. "It's up. You never have it up."

She lifted a brow with amusement. "I guess, maybe not often, but..."

She'd worn her hair up before, obviously, but her signature look was to leave it out, freshly curled. So, seeing her with it up just happened to draw my attention more, and also show off her pretty face a bit more, which I guess is why I noticed.

Satisfied that I'd figured it out, I nodded. "Yeah, that's it. It looks pretty like that."

Her lips curved into a soft smile, eyes darting away from mine in an uncharacteristic manner. "Er, thanks."

I didn't think much more of it as I returned to my doodling, but then from that day onwards, I noticed she began to wear her hair up more often. And every single time, I found myself admiring her secretly, letting myself indulge just that little bit more.

—

Promising to pick up Van from soccer practice today, I headed to the field to wait in the bleachers for her, having killed time studying all I could before my brain would fry itself. I was a little early, so the Yellowjackets were still practicing.

I took that as my opportunity to get comfortable at the bottom of the bleachers, feet leaning on the ones in front of me as I pulled my headphones on and focused on my book. I was deep into it when something hit me and I jumped, startled.

Yanking my headphones off, I looked down to see a bottle cap, and then looked up to see a laughing Jackie stood by the bench on the field, bottle of water in hand.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, before tossing the cap back at her, which she swiftly dodged.

"What are you doing here?" she asked with a grin.

Admittedly, she looked really cute right now, dressed in the school gym kit, a little sweaty and her face flushed pink from all the running she'd done. But I would never give her that satisfaction, so sarcasm was my next best defence.

"Oh, I just had to come and see Jackie Taylor in all of her team captain glory."

She raised her brows, pausing. "Really?"

"No. I'm here to pick Van up."

She scoffed gently, rolling her eyes.

"As much as your many admirers would love to watch you practice, I'm not one of them," I teased.

"Hilarious," she said with narrowed eyes, making me grin. Dismissing my mockery, she asked, "Are you coming to the pep rally tomorrow? First game of the season is this week."

I leaned back, thinking about it. "Eh, why not?"

Hand on her hip, she shot me a disapproving smile. "Don't sound too enthusiastic or anything."

I crossed my legs comfortably as I met her challenging stare. "I'm not big on the whole soccer thing. I'm just going to support Van. That's what a good friend would do."

She began to smile, a glint of amusement in her gaze. "A good friend, huh? Pat yourself on the back much?"

"Someone has to."

She looked away with disbelief, hiding a smile. "Wow, I see."

I quirked a brow, smile forming on my lips. "See how annoying that is? That's what it's like having a conversation with you."

She pursed her lips as she looked over me with feigned irritation. "Touché, Y/N."

I flashed her a satisfied smile as she finished the last of her water before flipping me off then jogging back to the others. I chuckled to myself as I watched her leave, admittedly checking her out as I did. Stupid Jackie and her stupid cute face.

—

We were well into October when it happened. I couldn't have seen it coming in the slightest.

Lottie, one of Van's teammates, was hosting the ultimate Halloween party at her mansion of her house, able to get away with it because her parents were away. Everybody was attending, and if Van herself didn't invite me, at least ten other people had because of how awesome it was supposed to be. Naturally, I said yes, loving a party more than anyone else but especially a costume party.

So, I showed up with Van and Taissa, the latter opting for a Catwoman costume that she very much pulled off, and Van and I dressing up as two of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles – her as Michelangelo and myself as Leonardo. They were iconic outfits, what could I say?

Of course, I may have felt a little stupid when we met up with the rest of Van's team, including Jackie who looked drool-worthy in her Supergirl costume.

"Wow, you two look...," she began when she saw Van and I, eyes flickering between our matching costumes. "It's very you."

Van swung her nunchucks in agreement. "I thought so too. Love the sexy Supergirl getup."

Jackie stifled a smile as she nodded in acknowledgement, before her eyes fell to me. "Which one are you? Raphael?"

I pointed to the blue bandana over my eyes. "Leonardo, obviously."

A grin broke out on her lips as she touched the bandana, pulling it over my eyes a bit better and also sending goosebumps all over my skin at her touch. "Obviously."

I swallowed thickly, trying not to let my eyes drift below her head, because her costume was very tight and she looked very good right now.

"Nat's pouring everyone drinks in the kitchen," she said, looking between the three of us. "You coming?"

"Hell yeah," Van spoke for us all, raising her nunchucks in the air, before glancing back at Taissa and I. "Leonardo and Catwoman, on my six!"

I cracked a smile as I readied my sword and followed after my idiot best friend. 

It was admittedly an eventful first few hours, with Van and I stressing Taissa out enough times that she was forced to take our pretend weapons off us for the rest of the party. Apparently assuming the personas of our costumes wasn't going down well with her, which, in hindsight, was fair when I remembered how drunk we got.

At one point, I found myself rambling to some random guy about the lore of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, aware that he was passed out on the couch beside me but still talking anyway, when Jackie strolled over to me, just as drunk as I was.

"There you are," she said with a grin. "Come dance with me."

"Jackie, I'm in the middle of a conversation," I said, motioning to my passed out friend.

"He's asleep, idiot," she pointed out, before outstretching her hand and wiggling it. "Come on."

I batted her hand away. "I don't dance."

She lost her smile as her patience ran quicker now that her inhibitions were lowered. "Y/N."

Finding it amusing, I motioned around us. "There's a billion people here. One of them would kill to dance with you. Why not ask them?"

"I'm asking you," she said through gritted teeth.

Not really aware of her anger, I pushed myself off the couch with a stretch. "I'm hungry."

She glared at me as I walked away, pushing through the party-goers and intending to find the kitchen, but Lottie's house was huge and I'd already forgotten the layout. I opened several wrong doors, and then on the last one – some sort of games room – I felt someone shove me from behind, forcing me in.

"Hey–!"

"Why does nothing work with you?!" Jackie interrupted my complaining, shutting the door behind her and fixing me with a frustrated stare.

I blinked, confused.

She scoffed, uncrossing her arms and rolling her eyes. "I've been trying to get your attention for months, you idiot! I even started–" she faltered, embarrassed, "wearing my hair up because of one stupid compliment you gave me."

My brain was working slower than usual, so her words were catching up to me little by little. "I noticed that."

Still not happy, she narrowed her eyes at me. "Why do I even try?"

Realising this was about the Jackie Taylor effect, as I'd rightly dubbed it now, I said, "Everybody loves you. Why is it so important if I don't?"

Her eyes flickered between mine, and I was certain she was going to slap me or berate me or shout at me. But then her expression softened and she admitted, "Because I want you to."

I didn't get chance to register her words before she stepped forward, pressing her lips to mine. Her fingers curled around the back of my neck and I found myself melting under her touch, falling right into her. Her lips tasted like alcohol, tobacco and strawberry lipgloss, and I was suddenly eager to taste her concoction even more, all my senses heightened as I pulled her close.

She moved her lips against mine eagerly, fingers sending shivers down my spine as they tickled my skin, and I pushed my tongue between her lips in retaliation, not even thinking about anything other than her. We broke apart for air, barely seconds passing before our lips reconnected, and I was infatuated with every part of the blonde that had been on my mind these past few months.

Time was a drunken haze – we could have been there for seconds or hours for all I knew – and we were unfortunately interrupted by the sound of the door suddenly opening. Our sloppy movements meant we pulled apart a second too late, and we turned to see Van standing there in her Michelangelo costume. God, did I look that stupid right now?

"You're both trashed," she said, words slurred, before she looked to me. "C'mon. Catwoman is taking us home." Then she looked to Jackie, adding, "Shauna's looking for you."

I glanced at Jackie, heart still racing and her taste still on my lips. The state I was in made everything feel like it was so distant, as if it was happening to someone else, so I still hadn't truly acknowledged what had just happened between us. Jackie was already looking at me, eyes half lidded and cheeks flushed. I almost wanted to kiss her again, but Van impatiently calling my name snapped me out of it.

"Coming," I told her, before tearing my eyes from Jackie and following after Van.

#jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor imagine #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor #ella purnell #yellowjackets imagine #yellowjackets

[featherandferns]

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

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

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

word count: 14k.

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

“And this is your room.”

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

“Is it, uh, alright?”

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

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

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

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

“Well, thanks,” you smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Very noble work,” you joke.

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

Your mood sobers, smile turning solemn.

“Thanks,” you quietly reply.

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

“See ya.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yo! JB, you home?”

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

“You’re not John B,” he says.

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

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

“Holy crap! Little Routledge?” he gapes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, that’s sick!”

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

“John B gave you his old room then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

“Pretty lofty goal to set,” you chuckle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you nod. “Scary.”

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

“Can’t believe you’re seventeen.”

“What? I look good or something?”

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

“Or something,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

But when JJ pats your head, your chest deflates.

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

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

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

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

“Wait, I’m confused,” Pope frowns.

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

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

You laugh into your drink.

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

You nod.

“But then you moved to Colorado?”

“Yeah?”

“But now you’re back here?”

“Apparently,” you say.

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

“No shit,” Kiara quips.

It was complicated. Families usually are. Your mom had split from John B’s dad when he was three years old. She ran off to Raleigh, in North Carolina, and met a guy pretty quick. That’s when you came into the picture, born almost a year behind John B. Their relationship was rocky, to say the least, and at some point your mom decided that it may be best for you to get to know your half-brother whilst her and your dad “figured things out”. What was meant to be a short stay at Big John’s house became a four-year affair. Then, at thirteen, your mom decided to flee the state, away from your dad, and she was taking you with her. It all came out of the blue. You weren’t exactly thrilled to go to Colorado. You liked Kildare, and North Carolina, and John B and his friends. Kiara was always nice to you. She never talked down to you, despite you being seen as John B’s little sister. You bonded over turtles and Bob Marley. JJ was different. He’d prank you with John B and tease you about your dolls, but he’d also patch you up if you fell and calm you down after a nightmare. Your crush on him evolved naturally over time. What started as childhood infatuation with the supposed delinquent of Kildare became real. You liked JJ. He was funny and rambunctious, but he had a kindness and tenderness that he kept hidden below. He was often at the house as his own family situation was far from perfect, so having him around became as familiar as John B’s presence. When you left, JJ gave you a hug that you wished would last a lifetime.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I’m gonna head in.”

“What?”

“No!”

“Come on!”

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

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

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

“Night!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.”

“Can’t sleep?”

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

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

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

“Don’t need to bore you with it.”

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

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

“Haven’t smoked in ages,” you say.

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

You laugh. “Not where I live, no.”

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

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

“I feel like you have to, now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

“Sure?”

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

“So, you’re not missing home then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

You roll your eyes.

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

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

“Definitely no guy, and definitely no jock.”

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

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

“Right, night Little Routledge,” JJ says.

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

It takes a minute to regain your composure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This island that small?”

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

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

“Ah, sweet. Anyone I’d know?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Happy to help,” you reply.

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

You nod. “Sure. Sounds good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Smashed it. Got the job,” you say.

“Oh, sweet. Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

“They bad quality or something?”

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

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

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

“S’just practice,” you mumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yo!”

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

“Y’all hungry?”

“Hell yeah,” JJ says.

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

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

“Beef burger with cheese, no pickles.”

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

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

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

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

“Oh, it is,” John B replies.

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

There’s the sound of chewing and swallowing.

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

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

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

What the hell was that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You gonna be much longer?”

“No, I shouldn’t be,” you say to Tom.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, that’s dumb,” she snorts.

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

“Who’s this guy? Do I know him?”

“Maybe.”

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

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

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

“He is?”

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

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

“So, do you?”

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

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

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

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

“Anytime sunshine.”

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

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

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

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

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

“He had to go do something for Cameron.”

“At ten at night?”

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

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

“Hey, you hungry?”

“Starved.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Feed me a fry?”

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

“Thanks.”

“Course.”

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

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

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

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

“See you soon.”

“Yeah. See you soon, Little Routledge.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want it?”

“Please,” you whisper.

“Yeah? You want my mouth?”

“Yes, JJ, please.”

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

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

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

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

“Been dreaming ‘bout this.”

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

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

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

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

You gasp awake.

Had you been sleeping?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” you dumbly say.

“Hey.”

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

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

“Oh.”

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

“Jesus Christ, JayJ.”

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

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

“Be my guest,” JJ scoffs.

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

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

“That’s what she said.”

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

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

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

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

“Take your pick.”

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

“Something like that.”

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

“Shit, I—”

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

JJ nods. “Yeah, yeah. Course.”

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

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

“It’s okay. I don’t…It isn’t…”

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

“We can’t.”

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

“Right. Course.”

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

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say.

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

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

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

“Hey. Sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” you lie. “You?”

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

“Oh shit, that’s tonight?”

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

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

“Alright. Just stay safe.”

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

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For letting me stay here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, apart from Pope.”

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

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

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

He laughs. “Thanks, little sis.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Know a lot of people here?”

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

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

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

“Yo Lizzy!”

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

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

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

“Hey,” you smile, squiffy.

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

“Yeah, I came with Lizzy.”

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

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

“How you finding Kildare?”

“Good.”

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

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

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

“Some people, huh?” you say cautiously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”

“Just, you’re new here—”

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

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

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

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

“Let go!” you demand.

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

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

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

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

“Let go, Tom!”

“Everything good here?”

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

“I think you should let go, man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Wanna get out of here?” JJ asks.

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

“Come on. I brought my bike.”

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

“Good?”

“Good,” you quietly reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’s your face?”

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

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

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

“Good.”

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

“So…”

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

“We gonna talk about it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” JJ mumbles. “Yeah, one time.”

“Yeah?”

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

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

“So pretty,” you say through your kisses.

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

“Fuck,” he sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That good, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#jj #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #obx #outer banks #obx fics #outer banks fic #obx fic #obx preference #outer banks preference #jj preference #jj maybank preference #routledge!reader #jj x routledge!reader #brothersbestfriend!jj #brothersbestfriend!jj x reader #jj x fem!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #fem!reader

[shanesbluechicken]

When Sam has a crush

TW: none

Gender: neutral

Sam definitely isn't one to ignore or deny his feelings. On the contrary, if he could he'd yell them out for the entire world to hear them, but he still becomes quite shy when it comes to confessing them to YOU.

It's not that he is scared of the rejection, more that he might lose you as a friend. He can take a "no", but please don't avoid him afterwards.

That much said, he figured that he needs a plan and that consists of several ways to impress you.

Like he starts pulling more stunts and do more tricks with his skateboard around town which gets him to fall on his nose quite often. You usually laugh your ass off which makes the pain totally worth it and when it seems like he genuinely hurt himself you're so incredibly gentle with him. This makes his heart go BOOM and he immediately forgets about his injuries.

He is also inviting you over more often to ask for your opinion on a new song idea that came to his mind the other day. But the real reason why he wants YOU to hear it is because he of course wants to impress you with his skills and he loves it when you compliment his music. The man basically lives off your affirmation.

"Hey, wanna join us at the beach? Vincent wants you to come."

"But I never said-"

"Ssssshhhhh."

Whenever he meets up with Abigail and Sebastain and you greet him while passing by they tease the absolute shit out of him. Sam literally has to wrestle them to the ground otherwise you'd hear it. They totally ship you two though so naturally they try to play match makers.

Their match making consist of obvious not-so-obvious questions like

"Hey, so Sam huh? What do you think of him? He's quite the catch don't you think?"

It makes you think that they're actually the ones who have a crush on Sam and you confront him about it, thinking you're being a good friend and helping their situation out :'D

"So you should totally date Sebastian/Abigail. I think they have a crush on you."

"What?"😀

He immediately tracks them down and takes away their wingman license.

Jodi quickly catches on to his crush for you and like the sweet mom that she is, she wants to support her son.

"You're quite attractive, I can't believe you haven't found your special someone yet. My son, Sam, is currently single as well and-"

"Mom, sTOP."

Don't get me started on Vincent, okay. That boy plays clueless, but he knows exactly what he's doing.

"You should date my brother."

By now Sam's soul has left his body with all the embarrassment.

A) Vincent genuinely wants you and Sam to become a couple, because that boy absolutely adores you.

B) Seeing his older brother suffer like this is pretty funny.

Your secret is that you've known about Sam's crush since day one. The only reason why you didn't put him out of his misery is because it's hilarious.

Masterlist

#sdv #stardew valley #sdv x reader #stardew x reader #sdv headcanons #sdv imagines #sdv sam x reader #sdv sam #stardew sam x reader #stardew sam

[allwaswell16]

One Direction fics where a character unexpectedly gets a call from the hospital or must rush to the hospital for another character and end up realizing their feelings as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

—Louis/Harry—

❤️‍🩹 Own the Scars by @crinkle-eyed-boo

(E, 144k, rehab) Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want.

❤️‍🩹 Consequences by @allwaswell16

(E, 78k, amnesia au) Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up.

❤️‍🩹 Feels Like Coming Home by @phdmama

(E, 60k, angst) The last thing Harry Styles expects when he's hanging out at the Someday Cafe in Somerville one rainy October day is for his ex, Louis Tomlinson to walk through the door, but that's exactly what happens. 

❤️‍🩹 where the lights are beautiful by twoshipsdrifting / @polkadotlou

(M, 31k, omega Louis) the accidental bonding a/b/o fic

❤️‍🩹 devil's waltz by nebuloussubject

(M, 23k, canon) a sickfic with a slow burn

❤️‍🩹  Hypotheticals (series) by tomlinsunshine

(T, 15k, friends to lovers) This whole "running away" thing really isn't going as planned.

❤️‍🩹 Stay by rabbithole28

(M, 12k, exes to lovers) Louis was taken to hospital after a car accident. They called Harry letting him know that his fiance was unconscious and in a serious condition. The only problem was, Harry hadn't seen Louis since he walked out of their flat three years earlier.

❤️‍🩹 Wanna Do Nothing With You by whoknows

(E, 9k, canon) The accident happens in the stupidest way possible. One minute Louis is demonstrating a skateboard trick he’d just learned for Lottie, the next he’s waking up in a hospital.

❤️‍🩹 tides thrash inside by ifthat / @lovehl

(E, 8k, a/b/o) "How could I call you when I needed you as far as possible to sever our spatial bond?”

❤️‍🩹 Tight Grip on Reality by roseslotuslouis / @fandomaws

(G, 8k, angels) Louis is called as Harry’s emergency contact after he gets into an accident and they are thrust back into each others lives

❤️‍🩹 Together We're the Greatest by @hellolovers13

(E, 4k, exes) It's not the first time Louis has to stitch Harry back together, but Louis will make sure it is the last.

❤️‍🩹 Twenty Stitches In A Hospital Room by betty_and_i

(NR, 3k, paramedic Harry) H is a paramedic and him and L broke up a few months ago over something stupid which caused them to not talk again. Fastforward L is in a situation that causes someone needing to call the paramedics for him and H is the one to be there at the scene

—Rare Pairs—

❤️‍🩹 We Used To Wait by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships

(E, 56k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Louis has an accident, but nobody even knows he and Nick are going out.

❤️‍🩹 some velvet morning, years too late by tintedglasses

(T, 35k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Louis wakes up in the hospital with unfinished business at his bedside. Turns out Nick has some unfinished business, too.

❤️‍🩹 I got myself in a mess (and without you I'm in more) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 9k, Zayn/Liam) He’d laughed a bit, at first, when Louis had given it to him, when he’d explained all about the app that it was connected to, the emergency contacts that would be notified and sent his exact location “if you just double tap the back of the charm, see” because Louis was that friend, the mom friend

#ficrec #1dficvillage #trackinghappily #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource #hltracks #ficsfor4am

[normal-internet-user]

I accidentaly deleted an ask, so here it is,

HAPPY B-DAY @wuts-stuff 🎉🎉🍰

BAYVERSE BOYS ON READERS BIRTHDAY

Leo:

Wether you're dating or not,

You will not be spending your birthday alone.

Leo will plan an entire day full of fun activities for the two of you to do.

(He also wanted to make you a cake, but he's banned from the kitchen, so Mikey made one for you)

He'll make sure his brothers are on their best behavior, there will be no funny buisness on (Name)'s birthday, no sir.

If parties aren't really your thing, he's more than happy to spend the day in your apartment or even in his own room, as long as he gets to celebrate your birthday.

If you guys are dating, he plays diffrent oldies records for the two of you to slow dance you.

(Specifically, Blue Moon by Mel Tormè, golly I love that song)

As for your gift,

He makes you a beautiful traditional ink painting.

He had asked April to get him the supplies, and once she had, he'd been working on it everyday since.

The day ends in a sleepover, the two of you watching your favorite movie <3

Raph:

You?

Spending your birthday alone?

Absolutely not.

If he has to drag you out of your apartment to come spend your birthday in the Lair, he will.

I'm serious, he will.

If you hate celebrating your birthday for some reason or other,

He's happy just being around you.

As long as he gets to see you happy.

I keep seeing this headcanon that Raph makes jewlery out of old bottles and other glass junk,

And I completely agree.

He most definitly makes you a necklace with a bright red shard of glass in the center.

It's so pretty and you can't stop thanking him for it.

He'll probably be all humble on the outside, ya know? "Nah, don't mention it, shorty."

But on the inside, your constant thanks and praise of the present is definitly stroking his ego.

Mikey:

Omg it's your birthday, no way!

He calls you at midnight to tell you happy birthday because he wanted to be the first one to say it.

He will stay on the phone with you his whole way to your apartment.

Once he's inside he'll pick you up with a big 'ol smile and start spining around your apartment singing happy birthday.

You have to tell him to quiet down before he wakes up the entire building.

If you don't mind parties, prepare yourself my friend.

Mikey is literally the party dude, this is going to be the best birthday bash of your life.

If parties aren't really your thing, he'll just hang with you at your aparment all day,

You two will do a little of everything,

Bake your cake,

Play some video games,

Watch some movies,

All that jazz.

His gift is a skateboard of your own that he styled the bottom of,

Like I've said in previous Mikey headcanons if you don't know how to skateboard, he's 100% teaching you.

And now you have your own board to learn on!

Donnie:

Donnie spends weeks before your birthday planning things out.

Everything needs to be absolutely perfect, nothing any less than will be acceptable.

He has two sepreate plan sheets,

One for if you'll be spending the day at the Lair,

And another if you'll want to spend the day in your apartment.

He's fine either way, just so long as he gets to make you feel special on your birthday.

Donnie makes a point of the two of you doing all your favorite things,

Wether it be baking, painting, or even napping,

Anything you enjoy doing is something you'll do on your birthday.

His gift to you is a sweater you had said you liked while the two of you were on a walk a while back.

He had April buy it for him and he gave it to you much to your excitment.

It makes him happy everytime he see's you wear it.

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

There you go, I hope you have a very happy birthday @wuts-stuff 💕💕

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #x reader #donnie x reader #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #mikey x reader #mikey headcanon #tmnt bayverse #bayverse leo #teenage mutant ninja turtles bayverse #bayverse mikey #bayverse tmnt x reader

[shitouttabuck]

ok stay with me here but: (loose) anastasia (1997) au

evan buckley: the missing, presumed dead, youngest child of the beloved/beloathed buckley family, all of whom were murdered when he was a kid—all except his older sister. except he’s alive, with the unfortunate downside of total amnesia, and nothing to tie him to anyone except a broken something that just reads: buck. so buck grows up alone, and it sucks, especially because it’s not all he’s ever known. he might not have his memories but he knows he's known what love is. home, love, family. there was once a time i must’ve had them too. home, love, family. i will never be complete until i find you.

maddie buckley: only daughter of the buckley family, fell in love with a bad man who tried to kill her whole family to get to her. got away and got safe. doesn’t know if doug’s alive. her brother’s probably dead. surviving’s not the same as living, and she’s been doing it for so long. but… have you heard… there’s a rumour in los angeles. she’s got the best and the brightest protecting her, and all that buckley family money. spreading them both thin could mean doug worming his way out of the woodwork but if there’s even a chance evan’s really out there? she’s already decided.

eddie diaz: conman, but more importantly, dad. there was a war, and then another one, and his wife left, and somewhere in there his parents took his kid from him. he does not have the money to fight them with lawyers, but he’s stubborn and not particularly respectful of the law and he’s heard that maddie buckley’s protective service team has means and money that allow for a) duking it out in court with his parents or b) getting his kid back in ways that are more uh legally grey. and it just so happens the rumours are that maddie buckley will do just about anything and pay just about any sum to find her long-lost brother. blond-haired, blue-eyed, missing at age 10—nearly two decades ago. he could look like anyone, now. sure, there’s the distinctive red birthmark over his eyebrow, but makeup and tattooing go a long way these days. oh, and conveniently, his partner in literal crime, however mild, has an old inside link with someone on maddie buckley’s bodyguard team. chim never shuts up about henrietta wilson—hen, he calls her—particularly when eddie’s fumbling a job and having to improvise and he feels the need to point out just how competent his previous partner steadfastly was.

if eddie and chim are holding illicit auditions for evan buckley lookalikes, and this massive beautiful man stumbles in apparently already having gone to the trouble of dressing for the part? who is eddie to look that gift horse in the mouth? the quicker they see this con through, the quicker he’s together with chris again.

except buck thinks eddie really believes he’s maddie buckley’s missing brother, and buck is warm and ridiculous and so genuinely curious about eddie’s own family, on this journey to find his own, and eddie can’t help but share christopher, and buck listens with bright eyes and holds the photographs so carefully in his big hands.

cons are never victimless, and eddie knows getting chris back takes priority over any moral quandary of identity theft here.

but buck asks about chris’s favourite things and stays up late on their crosscountry train to come up with plans for an accessible skateboard for a kid he’s never met. buck tells eddie he wonders if maddie’ll recognise him, and he hopes she does, because he’s never had anyone see him and know him before. buck asks eddie if he thinks they’ll stay friends, once they’re both reunited with their families. it’ll be nice not to have to miss anyone again, he tells eddie one night, quiet. missing who you don’t remember is one thing. missing who you know?

he trails off and falls asleep not long after, but eddie lies awake in the bunk below him for hours. his moral compass has always swung with whatever cognitive dissonance necessary to justify his actions because the final truth is: heart over mind. and chris has always been his whole heart. so falling in love with your mark has got to be the stupidest, most dangerous thing you can do.

even this is okay; he can handle breaking part of his own heart. but he didn’t realise he was holding so much of buck’s too, and now? he doesn’t know that he can survive breaking any of that.

#i rewatched anastasia yesterday after a couple years and uh. came home and wrote this down at 11pm. #it will prob never get written but oh it's so fun to imagine buckanastasia eddiedimitri #nina writes #wip #911 #anyway. best movie in the whole entire world. invented romance #and oh the gender envy of a don bluth leading man........

[pappydaddy]

idiot (j.m.)

a/n: ha, i'm baaaack! bet cha didn't think y'all were getting this fic!

tv show/movie: outer banks | pairing: jj maybank x fem!pogue!reader

requested by a lovely anon as part of my 800 follower celebration

synopsis: jj tries to impress his girlfriend, but it doesn't go as well as he planned.

taglist: @luvhann | @thelakespoets  | @lonely-simp | @smarie7543 | @tenaciousperfectionunknown | @k-k0129 | @maybankslover | @taurusvic | @moralina | @verystarfishflower | @4dr1ana | @adr1an4 | @instabull | @poppet05 | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @popeheywardssecretgf | @lexi-2004 | @i-always-come-back-xoxo | @rootbeerfaygo | @444lyra *line through your user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: reckless actions, accident, mention of a dislocation, mention of breaking a bone, fluff.

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- not my gif -

JJ has done stupid and reckless things before. It was expected of him and he liked to live up to expectations. He was the unhinged friend that stressed everyone out. Since meeting him in elementary school, Y/N didn’t know JJ not to be daring which meant that she (being the nervous and apprehensive person she was) often found herself on the verge of a heart attack whenever he pulled his little stunts. Since they started dating two years ago, his chaos and recklessness has decreased, but not by any significant bounds. 

  But the decrease wasn’t from JJ changing, it was from Y/N insisting that he needs to be safe and arguing with him (which actually makes him think first). Even then, it’s a fifty-fifty shot that he actually listens. For instance, there was a new skatepark installed on The Cut, a last-ditch effort to (a) make The Cut look nicer, (b) keep Pogues out of Kook territory, and (c) lower crime rates. Of course, JJ, who has never skateboarded before, was convinced it was just like surfing so, therefore, he believed he would be a pro at it. He was wrong. Horribly wrong. But, thanks to Y/N, he was wearing a helmet and managed to avoid concussing himself on the concrete after he fell off the metal railing (nearly hitting his head on that). 

  Now, the dirt bike track was finally up and running again following the brief closure (three years) due to the owner going to jail for embezzlement. Now, after two former motocross x-game finalists who grew up in The Cut had bought it, it was fixed up and ready to be used again. Of course, JJ was naturally drawn to it, visiting every day so far this summer. Most of the time, Y/N went with him, but she was unable to go the past three weeks because Sarah had pulled her away to the mainland for shopping. 

  “Babe, I am so excited for you to come to the course again,” JJ was nearly bouncing off the walls all day. He even woke up at nine in the morning (and was like this from the start). His breakfast of a mixture of half a box of fruity pebbles and half a box of lucky charms was not helping anything. “I’ve been working on so many neat moves with Nathan, he says that I have enough skill that I could enter comps and win huge cash prizes.” 

  She looked over at him from where she packed things into her tote bag. “Nathan would know, maybe you should enter some contests. You could probably enter some surfing contests too,” She nodded, double checking the contents of her bag. JJ spending every day at the course has led to Nathan (one of the owners) coaching him as a hobby. Completely free and completely spontaneous. “You could really make a career out of these, J.” She reminded him. 

  “I don’t know, Babe,” He shrugged, grabbing the sunscreen and her sunglasses that she forgot on her dresser. “Some of these guys that play these sports come from rich families who pay for only the best training. No way I can compete against that. Their parents buy them wins basically! How can I win against someone who bribes the judges? Or someone who has the best bike?” He pointed out, handing her the items as she started to walk out of their room. 

  “Thanks,” She smiled up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And Nathan has competed against them and won, he can teach you how. Talent is always better than money in the long run. It’s worth a try if you think you’ll be happy,” A honk sound from outside, signalling that the Twinkie was there. “I mean, you asked me out because you thought it would make you happy and look at us now. Living together.” She gestured around at the small cottage-like house they rent. Two-bedroom, one bath, and the floor plan was open concept because it was just a kitchen and living room. 

  “Would you be okay if I started competing,” JJ asked her, his hand reaching out to gently grab her arm when she started to walk towards the front door, another honk sounding from John B. She turned around, seeing him inches away from her, eyes staring down into hers as he waited for her answer. “It’s easy to get hurt in these sports and I don’t want you worrying all the time.” 

  She sighed, smiling at him, hands coming up to cup his face. “I’m always gonna worry about you JJ. What matters is if you’re happy. You sacrifice so much for me, I can sacrifice being scared out of my wits for the length of a competition.” With that, she rolled up to the balls of her feet, pressing a kiss to his lips just when another honk sounded. 

____

  “I can’t believe you said you would be fine with him competing,” Sarah shook her head as she watched the course. People zipped around, mud flying in every direction. Sarah and Y/N sat on the bleachers, free sodas from the cooler in hand. Y/N looked up from her book, eyes searching for JJ instantly, quickly finding him talking to Nathan off on the side. “I mean, someone wipes out every second. If John B started competing in motocross I would have a nervous breakdown.” 

  Y/N shrugged, eyes leaving JJ to see John B ripping around the course. “It makes him happy and he’s really excited about Nathan telling him he could do well at this,” She took a sip of her soda, the cool liquid helping cool her body temperature. “I’m not going to let my worries ruin this for him.” 

  “You’re braver than me, girl.” Sarah shook her head, taking a drink of her own soda just as Kie and Pope turned the corner, climbing the bleachers with take out containers in their hands from the food truck parked in the parking lot. 

  “We got JJ and John B’s, they are on the bottom to stay warm,” Pope told the two girls, handing them two containers. “Though, I don’t know why I try since they will devour them cold by choice,” Pope shook his head, settling down beside Sarah, picking up his untouched soda. “Are they almost ready for a break anyway? They’ve been at this for hours.” He asked, popping the tab open, the carbonation hissing as it rushed out. 

  Glancing over at the track, Y/N shrugged. “John B will probably be done once he finishes this lap, but JJ is probably gonna take the course once more so Nathan can time him,” She explained. “He’s aiming to break his personal best.” She was proven correct when JJ pulled his helmet over his head, securing it as he nodded along to whatever Nathan was telling him, his face hidden by the dark tinted face shield. 

  Just as John B finished his lap, JJ revved his engine, mud slinging around as his tire spun. Y/N perked up slightly as he drove to the startline. With a flick of Nathan’s thumb, JJ took off, zipping around the track. Y/N wiggled to the edge of her seat, setting her soda and the two containers of fries on the bench beside her. Something told her to keep watching. Maybe it was that she thought he would make a new personal best or maybe JJ had been a little too good about not making reckless decisions as of late. She wasn’t too sure, but here she was hanging off of every mound and every turn as if he were competing for a national title. 

  Then, it all made sense when she noticed Nathan’s hands flying through the air, looking like he was telling JJ to slow down or something as he yelled into the radio that allows him to communicate with JJ. “Is that some kind of signal?” Sarah asked, her nose wrinkling as she watched Nathan’s hand movements in confusion. 

  “They have radio communication, he wouldn’t need to use hand signals unless JJ was training for a race,” John B, who Y/N didn’t notice had joined them, explained. He tipped his uncapped water bottle towards Nathan. “It looks like he’s stressin’. Must think JJ’s pushing himself too hard.” 

  The group watched with worried expressions. From where they sat, they could hear the raised voice of Nathan but they couldn’t hear what he was saying over the roar of JJ’s motor. It was a split second. A tiny movement. But it told Y/N exactly what was going on. As JJ flew by the stands, she could see the way his head stayed tilted towards her for a second too long to not be a coincidence, followed by a sudden surge of speed. “Oh, God, JJ,” She tucked her lip between her teeth. “Please don’t. Listen to Nathan.” She pleaded quietly, hoping he could sense her wishes. 

  “Don’t do what? What’s he doing?” Pope asked, looking at Y/N with nervous eyes. Before Y/N could react, JJ’s bike took the turn too tight, tire hitting the soft mud at such a high speed (nearly double the speed Nathan suggested probably), slinging mud and causing him to lose control. Everyone stood as the bike started to fall, flinging JJ off it, but Y/N was already running down the bleachers while Nathan ran towards him from the ground. 

  “JJ,” Y/N yelled, not caring that her white sneakers were getting covered in sloppy mud. Somehow, she managed to get to JJ before Nathan, dropping to her knees, ignoring the cold, uncomfortable feeling of mud shifting under her. “JJ, does anything hurt? Oh my god.” She muttered, shaking fingers trying to undo his helmet strap to pull it off, but she could barely feel any of her limbs as panic took over. 

  “My shoulder,” JJ’s voice was strained and muffled as Y/N still fumbled with the helmet. Finally pulling it off his head, she could see his face screwed up in pain, his other hand clutching the shoulder he landed on (and was currently laying on). “It really hurts.” He could barely open his eyes as he flopped his head back, mud matting into his blonde hair. 

  “His shoulder hurts, what do we do?” Y/N looked up at Nathan who turned the bike off, handing it off to John B to put away. Crouching down on the other side of JJ, he looked down at him. 

  “I think he popped his shoulder out of place,” Nathan observed, looking up at Y/N as she softly stoked JJ’s hair, feeling rather useless as he groaned in pain, a few tears even slipping from his shut eyes, mixing with the mud laying under him. “Let’s sit him up first, but someone has to take him to the hospital to get it set.”  

  “You’re not gonna go to the hospital?” Y/N asked him, eyes nearly popping out. While all of them were now adults, Nathan was in his early thirties making him more of an adult than the 19-year-olds who currently surrounded him.

  A whimper from JJ made her look down at him, seeing him trying to move. Gently, she placed her hand on his chest, rubbing it to calm him down. “I’ll be right behind you guys, I just don’t have the room to drive him to the hospital comfortably in my two-seater.” He pointed over to the car park where his black Mazda MX-5 sat, backed into the spot next to the Twinkie - a hilarious sight. 

  “We’ll help him to the van, Y/N/N,” John B crouched down, placing his hand on Y/N’s shoulder. Startled, she looked over at him. He could see the tears building in her eyes as she blinked at him, nodding. “He’ll be okay, it’s just a popped shoulder. Remember when he broke his collarbone in freshman year? This is like that but less severe.” 

  He knew she already knew that, but when you see the one you love in unbearable pain, common sense tends to take a backseat. “Okay,” She muttered, looking around - needing something to take her mind off her boyfriend laying there, not being able to open his eyes from the amount of pain he was in. “I'll open the passenger seat and get it set for him-” As she spoke, she slowly took her hands from JJ, moving to stand up but her words were cut off as a hand reached out to grab her wrist. 

  “No, stay,” JJ spoke through clenched teeth, his eyes fluttering open to look at her. His crystal clear blue eyes were clouded by tears and laced with pain as she looked back down at him, kneeling beside him. “I need you.” He whimpered, eyes snapping closed again. 

  “I won’t leave you, J.” She reassured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek softly, hoping it brought him some comfort at least. 

____

  After a very uncomfortable drive with John B going way over every single speed limit, Y/N and JJ sat in an ER bay, the curtain shielding them from the rest of the ER. “Do you think I just dislocated it?” JJ asked, his voice hoarse. He shifted his head on the pillow, looking at Y/N. He was laying more comfortably after the doctors prescribed some pain meds, but Y/N was still treating him like a porcelain doll. 

  “The tests are just to make sure they aren’t missing anything, J,” She reassured him, rubbing soothing circles on his good arm. “Whatever it is, I will take good care of you.” She smiled, throwing a wink at him knowing flirty innuendos were his favourite thing ever - especially when they came from his insanely hot girlfriend. 

  Just as JJ opened his mouth to retort, the curtain opened with a flourish. In came the doctor, followed by two interns all sporting crisp white coats. “Okay, Mr. Maybank,” The older looking doctor spoke up, eyes on the tablet he held, clicking away on it. “We got your scans back, and it looks like you have a very minor glenoid fracture on top of your treated dislocation. Now that your dislocation has been reduced, you should feel a little more comfortable, but that fracture is gonna give you some issues,” He explained, setting the tablet down and pulling a prescription pad from his coat pocket. “I am going to prescribe you some pain medication, Hydrocodone,” He spoke as he scribbled quickly. “Also known as Vicodin. I am not going to prescribe much as it's highly addictive, I recommend only using what you need along with icing frequently and resting it for a full two weeks,” He explained, handing JJ the prescription before pulling a pamphlet from his chest pocket. “That’s a pamphlet on opioids explaining how they work, major side-effects to watch out for, and tips to avoid getting addicted to them. I like to hand them out to help patients manage their pain safely.” 

  “How long does the recovery take?” Y/N asked, her hand gripping JJ’s in relief. 

  “Typically, recovery takes a total of 12 to 16 months. Like I said, after two weeks you can return to normal activity aside from heavy-lifting, sports, or strenuous activity. Then, after a span of 6 weeks or 3 months, you can resume normal activity if your shoulder permits. I would recommend a physical therapist to help with recovery, but for now, lots of rest and my interns will put your arm in a sling.” He gave them a tight smile, nodding as he turned and left the makeshift room. 

  “Hear that, J. Lots of rest and you’re gonna be fine.” Y/N smiled, letting go of JJ’s hand, standing to move out of the way of the interns as they moved around, getting his arm in a sling. She busied herself with collecting his shoes as the nurses helped her dress him earlier (so she didn’t jostle his shoulder getting his clothes on. John B had been so kind as to run to their place to get him clean clothes. 

  “You’re all set, Mr. Maybank, we will see you in 6 weeks to check on your recovery.” With that, they also left the makeshift room, leaving the curtain open. Y/N knew they were busy people and it was just an ER, but the speed of everything made her head spin slightly. 

  “I think I could get used to my hot girlfriend taking care of me for two whole weeks,” JJ commented as she kneeled down in front of him from where the interns helped him sit up, his legs over the edge of the bed. She looked up at him, shooting him a scornful look. “I think restraining myself will be a little strenuous though-”

  “JJ Maybank, no funny business until you are better, until you are cleared to resume all activity, any funny business is off the table,” She informed him sternly. He narrowed his eyes at her, pouting his lip. “I mean it JJ. Maybe then you will take recovery seriously.” 

  “If recovery means we can’t take part in my favourite pastime, then I am going to take it as serious as hell,” He remarked. “This is going to be the fastest and best recovery the doctors have ever seen. Then, you are going to have the time of your life once I am cleared.” He smirked, watching as she stood up, shaking her head. 

  Her smile she had been trying to fight broke free as she sat beside him, making sure to sit to his left (his uninjured side). “I am sure you will.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to his lips. The sound of multiple approaching footsteps made them pull away to see their friends slipping into the open curtain. 

  “Nathan is talking to your doctor, he said he would cover the medical bill,” Pope explained, pointing over his shoulder. “Good thing it was only a minor fracture, now we just have to make sure JJ actually listens during recovery.” He remarked, shooting a playful glare at the blonde. Everyone knew JJ would be a pain in the ass during recovery, always doing things he shouldn’t be doing. 

  “Not gonna be an issue,” Y/N spoke confidently. “We already talked about it and JJ is gonna take it very seriously,” She looked towards him, almost daring him not to keep his word when her face suddenly changed, looking like she had a question. “Why did you take that turn too fast anyway? Nathan was telling you to slow down and the course looked extra muddy today thanks to that rainstorm we just had.” 

  Suddenly, JJ’s cheeks tinged red in a blush and he dropped his eyes to his lap. “I wanted to impress you.” He muttered bashfully, ashamed because she endlessly told him that he impresses her every single day. 

  “You’re an idiot, JJ! You severely injured yourself to impress the girl who has seen you throw up on yourself.” She rolled her eyes, slightly shaking his hair, the only thing she thought she could do to not cause him more pain. 

  Quickly, the bashfulness was wiped from JJ’s face as a smug smile took over his face. “Well, at least I am your idiot, right?” JJ asked, making her roll her eyes at him, a large smile fighting a way onto her face as she leaned in. 

  “That’s why you’re an idiot for trying to impress me, you’re mine forever - regardless of idiocy.” She pressed another kiss to his lips, smiling into the kiss like a fool in love. 

  Pope and John B groaned at the display of affection, but Sarah and Kie cooed, hugging each other. Pope and John B started to gag as the kiss lingered, the pair of them staring into each other’s eyes intently. “Oh, shut up guys-” Kie rolled her eyes at Pope and John B. 

  “Y’all know you’re the reason I believe in love, ya know?” Sarah cooed, ignoring the other three, watching JJ and Y/N as if they were her favourite ship in a show. John B shot her a look, gesturing to himself before giving up. JJ and Y/N were the reason they all believed in love. 

  “Well, she’s the reason I believe in love.” JJ remarked, pressing another kiss to Y/N’s lips.   

#pappydaddy #pappydaddy writes #pappydaddy's 800 follower celebration #jj maybank #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj oneshot #jj imagines #jj maybank x you #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank drabble #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank headcanons #jj maybank obx #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank masterlist #jj maybank preferences #jj maybank preference #jj maybank oneshot #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks fics #outer banks #outer banks netflix

[jjxkiaraxpopexcleoxjohnbxsarah]

Every detail of JB and JJ's friendship(not in order):

JB being the one to follow JJ in Barry's house in s1-the way after Kiara said someone should go and John B was like I know

JJ got the gun out to save JB from stupid topper-he did not hesitate and he had NO REGRETS 😭😭

THE WAY BOTH OF THEM WERE HOLDING IN THEIR SMILES WHEN JJ WENT TO VISIT JB IN JAIL AHDKFLGL BEFORE JUST LOSING IT

JJ reacted first when Shoupe said they lost JB and Sarah-Poor jjs life practically ended that night😭😭

JJ just walking up and hugging jb in midsummers-JB's little "fire, there's a fire" abdkfkf

JJ saying love you to John B before he leaves-THE CASUALNESS OF IT😭😭😭 it kills me

Them sitting near each other in class-they know the teacher hates it but they did it every time

John B texts the GC that he's alive and he says is JJ there-AHDJFKGLLGLGLGLG HIM ASKING FOR JJ!!! BC HE JUST KNOWS😭😭😭

JJ walking over to the tree when he sees jb looking at it, and trying to crack a joke before just hugging him so tight🥺🥺🥺

John B wrapping jjs arm over his shoulders in Poguelandia

JB and JJ saying the same exact thing about their fathers to each others face, the one about "you're gonna end up just like your father" -Those two scenes were sad but I feel like it hurt more for JJ because JJ always wants to believe that he's not like Luke and cos he trusts JB + when he said that I'm pretty sure it hurt

Okay S3 when the pogues have to leave JB behind and JJ says to Pope they can't split up again and they won't leave JB

Them hiding under the table like they're still kids😂😂

Their childish fight before Shoupe came-I strongly believe they both made a pact to never swing with the intention to actually hurt each other, especially JB since he knows what JJ goes through😔

JB casually pulling JJ in for a side hug in s2 when they were exchanging the key with limbrey-and jj does that nose scrunch

JJ says that he and John B have nothing to lose but Kie and Pope do-they are so intricately woven into each other's lives and their understanding of each other is insane

JJ slapping the step for jb to come and sit, and reassuring him they'll figure it out, and pulling him into his side😭😭-AND then JB rests his head on JJ's shoulder

The chateau burnt down and JJ places a hand on John Bs shoulder-The Chateau was JJ's home too

Jb being grossed out by the food in his fridge and then watching jj snack away ajfkfk

JJ and JB were with professor sowell I think that's the dudes name and John B pushes JJ down to protect him from the bullets/darts-Love a protective JB

JJ protecting jb from the cops in s1, lying to peterkin about them finding the boat

John B touching JJ's cheek and saying it's okay to stop JJ from making a stand

JJ being hellbent on getting JB outta jail, arguing with kie and pope on the porch before going off on his own to see JB and tell him his plan😭

JJ telling John B in court that he'll save him and being the first to say your honour he's seventeen

JJ listening to JB talk about stupid Topper as JB angstily rides his skateboard across the porch

JJ helping JB in midsummers it was so cute how John B was helping JJ wear his waiter uniform🥰🥰

JJ is the first to say to John B after they finish making the headstone on the tree-I would bet money the headstone was jjs idea😭😭😭

John B going to JJ first at the end of S2 to ask about surfing the waves in POGUELANDIA- And then he helps JJ walk

I'm sure there are even more out there but for now this is all I got.

Do comment what you think or if there's anything to add on

#obx #jj maybank #outer banks #john b routledge #mine #jj x john b #i love their bromance #obx bromance #friendship #jj and jb are besties

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

hii for the obx requests could i ask for 2 and 7 with jj?? no pressure you totally dont have to if you dont want to 🫶🫶

‘’We’ll worry about the consequences later.’’ + ‘’Some rules needs to be broken.’’

Request: Although you have a boyfriend and that your brother (John B) made it clear that no pogues could touch you, JJ wants to know if his feelings for you are reciprocated but doesn't know how to ask. He says a bunch of stupid things and eventually he finds his answer

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Rain was pouring outside the chateau, drowning your plans for a cookout and forcing everyone to hang out inside. Pope and Kiara were playing cards in the kitchen, Sarah and John B. were in his room probably making out and you and JJ were sitting on the pull-out couch talking and playing with the ukulele. JJ was terrible at it, but you could play some tunes.

‘’How is it going with that boyfriend of yours and all? Tristan, right?’’

‘’It’s good,’’ you said simply, surprised he was asking you about the guy you were seeing.

JJ nodded to himself. ‘’It’s good? Alright. Eh, in the bedroom is he freaky or only does missionary like all the other Kooks.’’

You wanted to disappear in the couch’s cushions. Why was he asking those weird and intrusive questions? He never cared about Tristan. The last time they were at the boneyard, JJ almost picked a fight with him and John B. had to step in. So, why the sudden interest?

You raised your eyes from the ukulele. ‘’Why are you asking?’’

JJ sank into the couch and shrugged. ‘’I don’t know. I’m just curious. I…I’m spitballing.’’

‘’Please stop spitballing.’’

There was a short silence, until he spoke again. ‘’Is Pope a better kisser than him? I know you and him have kissed last summer—’’

Your hand slipped from the instrument and an ear-buzzing noise cut JJ off. That kiss with Pope was a dare at a kegger and you both agreed it was weird and to never do that again. How did JJ know about the kiss? His tongue was in a touron’s mouth when this happened.

‘’What?!’’

JJ sighed and took a swig of his beer. ‘’Forget I said anything.’’

‘’Gladly,’’ you agreed, wishing you could erase the last minutes from your mind. ‘’Why were you asking about Tristan?’’

‘’I just wanted to know if everything was good with your boyfriend.’’

‘’He’s not my boyfriend.’’

‘’But you told John B.—’’

A breath left your lips. ‘’I lied.’’ You put down the ukulele. ‘’ I didn’t want him to know I was hooking up with Tristan. I love my brother, but my sex life is not something I want to share with him.’’

‘’Yet you’re okay sharing details with me?’’

You didn’t reply.

‘’Is…is Tristan good at sex? I’m guessing he is since he’s your bootycall—’’

‘’Oh my god. Why do you want to know about my sex life?!’’

JJ spoke in a nervous whisper, feeling his heartbeat in his ears. ‘’Because I…because want to know if I stand a chance.’’

‘’With…me?’’

‘’No. With Tristan,’’ he deadpanned. ‘’Yes, with you!’’ JJ groaned, taking his hat off to run a hand through his hair. ‘’Forget I said anything. Forget everything. Do you want to play Dominos? I think the box is in the kitchen.’’

He made a move to stand, but you grabbed his face and kissed him.

‘’Why did you do that?’’

‘’Because I wanted to.’’

‘’John B.’s gonna kill me…’’

‘’He’s not the boss of me. Besides, some rules need to be broken.’’

JJ quietly followed you down the hallway and to your bedroom, his hands never leaving you. You shut and locked the door behind you, humming as you felt JJ’s mouth sucking softly onto your neck from behind you, impatient and needy.

He’s wanted this — you — since you put a pink bandaid on his scraped knee after he fell from his skateboard when he was seven. It didn’t hurt that much, but you insisted he needed one. He remembered the concentration on your face, the way you stuck your tongue out to align the bandaid better. And the kiss you had pressed over the bandaid after you were finished to help the healing process.

Suppressing his feelings as he watched you grow and go on dates with the biggest idiots was hard. But your brother had been clear about you: no pogues were allowed macking with his sister.

You dragged JJ to your bed, crawling back and pulling him with you. He smashed his lips into yours, quickly sliding his tongue into your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck and bucked your hips voluntarily into him, getting a soft groan from his throat.

‘’Shh,’’ you reminded, covering his mouth with your hand.

If your brother heard any noises coming from your room, he would know and JJ would have to run for his life.

He looked down at you with desired filled eyes. ‘’Sorry.’’

You attached your mouth back to his, hands exploring each other’s bodies as the rain hit against your window. JJ’s hand wandered under your shirt, massaging your breast over your bra. He wanted to tear it off of you. Reading his thoughts, you unlocked his lips from yours and peeled off your shirt, then reached behind your back to unhook your bra.

JJ had seen you in bikinis many times during hot summer days, but he never got to touch you or see what was beneath the small clothing. Until now. His eyes immediately met your breasts with admiration and lust, perfect to his eyes although he heard you complaining to Kiara and Sarah about them. He sat there for a moment, letting his entire body and mind come to realization that this view was real. He wasn’t having another wet dream about you.

‘’Merry fucking Christmas to me,’’ JJ mumbled to himself, making you giggle under his gaze.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he let his hands crawl to your breasts, massaging them in an agonizingly slow pace. You moaned at the touch, feeling yourself becoming more soaked than you were before. He flicked your hardened bud with his calloused thumb.

‘’JJ,’’ you moaned, arching your back into his touch. You slipped your hand under his shirt, feeling the soft planes of his stomach and the blond hair leading beneath his shorts.

Although this was wrong, nothing ever felt more right.

His eyes locked with yours, finding a matching burning desire in them. You reached to undo the button of his shorts, but JJ reluctantly stopped you, remembering that he used the one in his wallet last week with a girl he met at a kegger and didn’t replace it.

‘’I don’t have anything to…’’ JJ rubbed his hands over his face and groaned.

He never hated himself more than he did right now. He had not planned to have sex tonight — even less with you. He could go get a condom in John B.’s room or ask Pope if he had any on him, but they would never let JJ get away with it. Any other days where they weren’t all stuck inside the chateau because of a rainstorm, there would be no questions asked. But the only girls at his proximity were Cleo, Kiara and you, and since Cleo and Kiara were with Pope, it left only you.

JJ got off you, profoundly cursing his forgetful brain for cockblock himself.

When you started getting sexually active and talked to Kiara about it, she made you promise to never do it without a condom. Guys are liars and nasty, never trust them when they say they’re clean or that they can’t wear a condom for any reason — it’s all bullshit.

But this was JJ. Although he was known to get with girls a lot, he was always safe. You’ve seen condoms wrappers in your father’s old room.

‘’It’s fine,’’ you said, breaking the silence. You sat up and glanced down at JJ. ‘’We’ll worry about the consequences later.’’

He lowly gasped, a bit shocked. ‘’Y-you still want to…oh, fuck.’’ His eyes shut as he felt your hand over his cargo shorts, cupping him through the fabric. 

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx  @sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife  @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue  @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker  @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage  @maybankslover @sunflowerziva @laylasbunbunny @Honey-marvel15 @leoluvsur-pappy

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny 

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #outer banks #outer banks imagine #i didn't re-read so I'm sorry if it sucks

[paraskao]

I recently had a few soc(mostly kanej) fanfic ideas and wanna share them here hehe

Jordie lives A: Jordie(surprise-surpise) was alive the whole time, successfuly moved on, started a family and named his son after Kaz(who he thinks is dead). He visits Ketterdam with family and ofc meets our Kaz the most dramatic way possible. Dirtyhands doesn't seem to find a logical explanation for all of this.

3-6 chapters, Rietvield angst, maybe tiny bit of kanej, hurt/comfort

Jordie lives B: Jordie(surprise-surpise) lives, but he's less succesful this time and ends up on some kind of a slaver's ship. By the lucky coincidence, Kaz is also there, undercover for a mission. By the unlucky coincidence, Jordie's first instinct to finding his long lost brother is to hug him tight

2-4 chapters, Rietvield angst, tiny bit of kanej, maybe even tinier bit of wesper, hurt/comfort, Kaz's character study

Skateboarding shortfic: Crows have to learn to use skateboards for a mission. Silly goofy fic

1 chapter(2k words max), helnik, wesper and kanej, fluff, Mathhias lives AU, maybe a bit OOC,

Rollerskating shortfic: exact same thing but rollerskating.

Kanej angst hehe: Pekka Rollins comes back with a new plan and support group, so Kaz decides to fully take him down this time, pompously and grandly, even though this plan includes Kaz's self-sacrifice in the process. Inej is not willing to let this happen

3-7 chapters, kanej, some triggering topics(suicidal thoughts, exploration of Inej's and Kaz's backstories in full color, violence), hurt/comfort but mostly hurt, everyone needs a hug

Kanej sickfick: Kaz has a shitty day, falls in water during a fight and has to grab random man's body to get on land. Cathes some unpleasant flashbacks and a cold. Maybe also a stab wound but I think I should let the poor guy live. Inej takes care of him <3

1-2 chapters, kanej, a lot of hurt/comfort

Ukraine AU: I have no explanation for this. Just six of crows but it happens in the absolute ass of modern Ukraine, everyone drinks kvas and listens to Skryabin. Kaz is a gang boss in adidas clothes, Jan Wan Eck is russian propagandist and Wylan makes bombs to blow up kremlin. Also his mom is polish

?? chapters, ukrreal??, crackfic

#ao3 #ao3 fanfic #kaz brekker #six of crows kaz #six of crows #fanfic #soc kaz #kazzle dazzle #kanej #jesper fahey #six of crows jesper #six of crows nina #the six of crows #six of crows wylan #nina zenik #wylan van eck #jesper x wylan #jesper gahey #soc inej #inej ghafa #inej #six of crows inej #soc #шістка воронів #shadow and bone #тінь та кістка

[friends-to-lovers-tournament]

Friends to Lovers Tournament: Round 3, Side B, Match 6

propaganda under the cut!

Renga:

Submission 1:

bc they gay

Submission 2:

i can go into heavy detail,,, AND I WILL!!!

1. their ship name is literally a form of poetry (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renga) and it's a type of poem written by multiple poets SO REKI AND LANGA ARE THE POETS WHO WRITE THEIR OWN POETRY TOGETHER 

2. they got along almost immediately after they met, and they found their reason for living together with each other via skateboarding!!! and they're best friends because they "get" each other like nobody else does!!! LIKE THE BEST KIND OF LOVE IS THE ONE WHERE YOU'RE BEST FRIENDS WITH EACH OTHER!!!

3. langa literally says "there's no meaning to skating if i can't do it with you" to reki AND IF THAT ISN'T THE SWEETEST THING EVER!!! and reki literally studies langa's way of skating to design a skateboard that fits perfectly to his snowboarder style AND HE GETS SO EXCITED TO SHOW LANGA IT!!!

4. they have their own fist bump that forms an infinity symbol which means that their love lasts forever and it's the loviest of lovey doves ur honor <3

5. they literally have a blue (langa) x red (reki) aesthetic WHICH IS OPPOSITES ATTRACT!!! they're also the cool guy x ray of sunshine,,, cat energy x dog energy tropes. also the "rambles for hours" x "listens happily" trope.

6. THEY WAKE UP AT ASS O' CLOCK IN THE MORNING JUST TO SEE EACH OTHER BEFORE SCHOOL AND SKATE TOGETHER AND THEY SNEAK OUT OF THEIR HOUSES TO STAY OUT LATE INTO THE NIGHT AND SPEND MORE TIME WITH EACH OTHER!!!! WHAT KIND OF TEENAGERS SACRIFICE THEIR SLEEP TIME IF NOT FOR THE ONE THEY LOVE???

anyways yeah. renga. beautiful bois who deserve to be together and were made as canon as could get past the censors.

Huntlow:

They’re just. SO CUTE!! Hunter develops a crush on Willow first. When they first met, he was just looking to recruit more people into the emperor’s coven, and he thought she and some others would be a good fit. They played flyer derby together (a sport in the demon realm), and it was the first time he’d actually been able to have fun with people his age. His original plan was still in play so Willow and the others on the team got taken and put into custody so they could be put into the emperor’s coven. However, at this point Hunter felt incredibly bad. In the end, he broke the rules and got them out of there. He was prepared to be hated, but Willow and the others forgave him. I think at this point is when he started developing feelings for her. This guy, who talks so much people can see through his disguises because of his voice, will get SO quiet and blushy when she’s nearby. He knew there was an illusion when the illusion acted scared and shy because he saw her as the strong, courageous witch she is. She saw his cringe outfits and cosplay and took a picture for her scrapbook and called it a look. She winked at him and he blushed and smiled this goofy smile. When she finally broke down after trying to keep a brave face for the others, he comforted her. I think somewhere around here she started developing feelings too. They held hands!!! She said “you mean a lot to me too”!!! They mean so much to me.

#friends to lovers tournament #sk8 the infinity #the owl house #renga #huntlow #reki kyan #langa hasegawa #willow park #hunter #polls #tournament polls

[rebouks]

Previous | Next

Transcript:

Ivan: Lookin’ good, bud! Oscar: Uh-huh, fancy me yet? Ivan: [laughs] I ain’t into redheads.

Oscar: Boo. Ivan: Listen.. I’m glad y’stuck it out, but we both know this is only the beginnin’. No keepin’ your struggles t’yourself, alright? Oscar: I’ll try my best… You’re a really good friend, Ivan. I’m sorry I haven’t been a better one.

Ivan: Nah, you’ve been dealin’ with-… Oscar: No, I’ve been selfish. Your support n’ lack of judgement this past year has kept me going when I didn’t think I could, and you’ve done it all without anyone to lean on; I’m not sure I’d still be here if it weren’t for you… I really appreciate it.

Ivan: Oh. Thanks, man… I try my best t’be there for folk, y’know? ‘Cause I know how shitty it feels havin’ no one to-... Fuck, dude; I don’t wanna end up cryin’ in public. Oscar: [snorts softly] Sorry, not sorry.

…

Ivan: I hate t’say it, but I ain’t got anywhere fast. Oscar: No shit, you still drive like a granny. Ivan: Ha-ha.

Oscar: I wasn’t expecting any miracles, don’t worry. Ivan: Would’ve been nice though. Oscar: Have you spoken to Ames?

Ivan: More than a few times; she doesn’t wanna know. They’ve pretty much banned me from goin’ in there now. Oscar: I dunno how we’re gonna prove his involvement. I bet him n’ Artie only speak when it’s absolutely necessary. Ivan: I’ve been tryna think of a way t’engineer a meetin’ between ‘em so we could catch it.

Oscar: They’d probably just pass it off as a business meeting or something. Ivan: We’d have t’record it somehow. Oscar: Let’s let Ames stew for a bit. We’ll try one last time n’ if she won’t budge, we’ll have to figure out a plan B.

Ivan: Well, don’t stress about it.. c’mon, you’re bitin’ your nails already. Oscar: I always bite my nails. Ivan: Still, I don’t want y’getting’ all worked up so soon after leavin’.

Oscar: Alright, dad. Ivan: [snorts] Fuckin’, no. Oscar: How’re things with Bruno?

Ivan: I ain’t keen on that segue, bud. Oscar: [laughs] My bad. C’mon though, are you feeling any better about it? Ivan: Sort of, it’s kinda hard t’get too comfortable when we’re hidin’ it for different reasons, y’know?

Oscar: Makes sense-.. hey! You got your cast off. Ivan: Aye! Good as new… Almost. It still makes a weird crackin’ noise. Oscar: You should hear mine.

Ivan: Don’t-… [Oscar proceeds to twist his wrist around wildly - producing several sickening bone crunches] Ivan: Ugh! The fuck did y’do to it?

Oscar: It’s mostly from skating, I’ve broken it at least three times. Ivan: Remind me never t’get on a skateboard. Oscar: Aha, that’s definitely happening now…

#somnium #sims 4 #storytelling #ts4 story #sims story #simblr #oscar finch #ivan harper #T-T #this is it.. this is the one that made me CRY #the BROMANCE #oscar needed to get that off his chest right off the bat 😭