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“ you’re gonna get in my way. ”
❛ well ... maybe YOU'RE gonna get in my way ! ❜ he retorts back , spoken out of the corner of his mouth , sniffing hard. ❛ 'sides ! th ― the ol' man left me in charge 'til he get's back , so you's got's to do what i tell's ya' ! ❜ he giggles then , giving jeremiah a rough yet playful shove. tongue is stuck out && a raspberry blown , his wiry form quickly scampering away should the other try to retaliate.
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“ if you get too hot, you can always take your clothes off. ”
texas chainsaw massacre | accepting | @backwccds
"Oh, I bet you'd love that," she teases, but she's not that far off from taking his suggestion. She's sprawled out on their bed in in nothing but a tank top and shorts and she still feels like she's melting. It's times like this that she remembers why she had always planned to move out of Texas. Until she had met Jeremiah and he had derailed, well, everything.
Tugging her shirt down until you can see the tops of her breasts and gathering up her hair to pull off her neck, she makes another futile attempt at fanning herself and it doesn't help that she can feel his eyes on her, heating her from the inside out.
"Mm, but if I take my clothes off, I know you're just gonna get on top of me and then I'll be hot all over again." But her voice is certainly not one of protest as she sits up, her fingers toying with the hem of her shirt while she looks at him from under her lashes, pupils blown wide.
Fuck it. They could take a cool shower after, she thinks right before she rips the shirt over her head, leaving her bare before him and playfully flings it at him.
“ okay, miss priss, cut that out. ”
texas chainsaw massacre | accepting | @backwccds
"I'm not a priss," she rolls her eyes, still scrubbing at the blood on his sleeve with a damp washcloth, but she wasn't as good at getting this shit out as his grandma was, and she didn't really have the patience for Luda Mae's lessons as terrible as it was. She'd rather be getting her hands dirty with the boys, just not her clothes, apparently. "But I just washed this and it was my favorite on you."
His overshirt was a lost cause, soaked in blood up to the elbows and tossed to the side, but she had been hoping to salvage this one. Tossing the washcloth down with a huff, she blows a piece of hair out of her face and glares up at him, despite knowing they do have bigger things to take care of.
"Fine, but next time can you strip first?" Oh, now that was an image. Jeremiah bare chested and bloody. She can only hope he doesn't notice the movement of her subtly rubbing her thighs together or they were going to end up a lot more distracted.
@backwccds gets this unhinged thing
"baby? you'd do anything to make me happy, wouldn't you?"
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backwccds said: “you should lay down.”
post trauma | accepting | @backwccds
normally, she might find that a bit patronizing, but since she was getting dizzy with blood loss, the cloth he had hastily tied around her arm already soaked with red, she decided she’d let him boss her around, just this once. she can’t believe she’d been shot with a crossbow of all things! where had they even managed to find one on the property? she let herself fall back on the couch, taking a moment to catch her breath before she cracks an eye open to look at jeremiah. “did tommy catch them?” there was going to be hell to pay if he hadn’t, not to mention he’d just be plain disappointed.
semi plotted thing || @backwccds
“So....Sheriff Hoyt really isn’t the sheriff, is he?”
It was a peculiar way of life, but what occurred on their side of the fence line was their own business. As long as they allowed her to live, Bailey wouldn’t jeopardize their way of life. Live and let live had always been a good way to look at the world around her. But sitting down beside the guy she had seen from before, the only one that seemed to be her age, wasn’t something that she feared. He was her age. That had to mean something. Certainly he wasn’t just like them. Hadn’t it always been those of their ages to rebel against the status quo?
“Is he your uncle or something?”
@backwccds
The light had left the poor girl’s eyes before Wyatt could get close enough to stop the bleeding. His gut had told him there would be trouble as soon as Jeremiah pulled up to his gas station. They’d gotten along well enough for unassuming youths, respectively raised by two separately psychopathic families. There was an understanding where ‘town lines’ were, so to speak, but invisible lines wouldn’t stop the flippant nature of a Hewitt.
“Goddamnit, man!” Wyatt shouted, shoving Jeremiah away from the dead girl, creating a barrier between them. “Not fucking here, man! Not here! Fuck!”
