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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 10 days ago

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Cain (p4)

Tw: Cain is really violent, like verbally violent. Tantrums, toxic relationships, isolation from friends and family, sexual content, sexual descriptions, profanity- like a LOT of them, Cain losing his shit really frequently. Gender neutral reader, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

This is part 4.

Click here for part 5

Click here for part 1

Cain tries. He really did.

The first week or so after his earth shattering confession, Cain was elusive. You hardly see him at home, not even for meals. But you know he's eating, because you would leave leftovers in the fridge and it would disappear the next day. You thought he was avoiding you, and you understood, because you practically rejected him at first.

He came back one day, seemingly waiting for you in the living room. To your surprise, instead of only acknowledging each other with a split second glance, Cain tried to make a conversation.

"How was it?" He asked.

You asked him what he meant.

"Your day." Cain continues, looking right into your eyes, which caught you off guard. Usually, eye contact means he's about to stir some trouble up, but you think this time he's actually making an attempt to communicate. "How was... your day?"

You told him that it was okay. Then you asked him about his day.

You could definitely see that he physically stopped himself from responding like he used to. Cain closed his eyes and took a deep breath before answering.

"My day is okay too."

And both of you left it at that, as you did your own thing, he did his own thing... which happened to be reading a book of sorts? Strange, he doesn't seem like the type to even be remotely near words. But you didn't want to pry and potentially get your head bitten off.

"It's cold." You turned to him and finally noticed that he's actually bundled up in a hoodie instead of his usual sleeveless shirt. That made sense, the seasons are changing, and very soon you would see frost on the sidewalk again.

Come to think of it, he has recently changed up his fashion sense to cover up a lot more, adjusting according to the weather. No more ripped jeans, instead opting to wear a pair of thick cargo pants with numerous pockets. He also got himself a new pair of shoes, trading in his tattered sneakers for a new pair of combat boots.

You asked him if it bothers him. Cain seemed to pause and think about his answer for a moment before replying.

"I always hated the fucking cold." He spoke with a sense of dread in his voice. Cain knows that he can't change the weather, and he just needs to tough it out. He has done this for years, ever since he was abandoned in that dumpster. But it doesn't make it easier, and each winter feels as intense as the last. And the worst part is, he doesn't understand why the bites of frost disturb him so much. Cain never found out how he was abandoned by his parents; he only knew that they did.

You nodded and decided to just... put aside a bit more cash for the heating bill. You cranked up the heat enough at home to make it comfortable for him. The water heater is also switched on 24/7 now, even if it does hike up your bills. Sometimes you even think the apartment was a little too warm for your liking, but seeing Cain being a lot less miserable made you suck it up and just wear lighter clothing instead.

And you didn't think much of it, until there was one night, when the wind was howling and all you could see was powdery white outside; You heard a knock on your bedroom door, and you were about to fall asleep in a pair of shorts and shirt, because the thermostat is dialed all the way up that it felt like summer. Upon opening it, you saw Cain towering over you, exuding vulnerability. He's not wearing his hoodie, but a white t-shirt, a pair of comfortable plaid shoes, and warm, fuzzy slippers. You were surprised that he showed no signs of sweating, unlike you, struggling to cope with the artificial heat, yet you do so for the sake of your troubled roommate.

You asked him if he needed anything from you. Only to be pulled into his arms for a tight hug. You were about to say something, but you felt wetness on your shoulder. Cain was crying.

"I don't... I don't know what I'm feeling..." Although muffled, you could hear how pained and conflicted he was.

You patted his back as he let it all out. You were dying to ask him questions, but knowing Cain, it wouldn't get you very far if he wasn't ready to share it in the first place.

"It feels good. I-It's warm." He spoke between sobs. "Please... let me stay."

You didn't understand what gave him the impression that you were planning to kick him out anytime soon. You told him that he's welcome here. And that was all he needed to hear tonight.

And what neither of you knows is that today was his birthday, or rather, the day those bystanders found him discarded like trash. Cain may not remember, but his body does. And it was the first time in his life that he wasn't shivering on this special day.

And Cain is afraid, utterly terrified to lose what he has now. Yet he doesn't know how to keep it. So he latches on, he does his best, he tries.

He slept in the same bed as you that night. It wasn't comfortable at all; his body ran hot. And on top of the running heaters? You felt like you were in a furnace. Cain had his arms wrapped around you at all times, constricting your movements, but he wouldn't budge, no matter how much you squirmed. His hold felt desperate; you could feel the aching yearning he held in his body for decades. Cain would bury his head at the back of your neck, making you wonder if he just liked the feeling of being suffocated by his own breath.

You woke up the next day earlier than he did. Cain was still clinging to you with dried tears on his face. But you didn't have the heart to wake him up, because he looked truly peaceful. Though you didn't have to wait long until he opened his eyes and groggily rubbed them, freeing you from his prison.

You greeted him and asked him how he slept last night.

"Good..." He yawned and stretched his arms. Well, at least one of you had a good night's sleep. Cain doesn't seem to be particularly embarrassed that he reached this level of intimacy with you; hell, he doesn't seem to see it as anything out of the ordinary at all. It's as if he were sleeping in the same bed as you for months.

He got out of bed to freshen up, leaving you to finally reclaim your space and take your turn to doze off. Luckily, today is an off day for you, or you would have gone to work in a sour mood.

"Who the fuck are you all?!" You were jolted awake by Cain's sudden outburst in the living room. You heard extra voices and assumed he had opened the door to someone.

An argument ensued, making you scramble back up on your feet to see what was going on. Upon poking your head out of the door frame, you saw Cain heavily berating someone outside your apartment.

You called him by his name, and that caught his attention. "I don't know who these assholes are, they are not coming in!" He yelled, attempting to shut the door on the visitors.

You caught a glimpse of your long-time friends' confused and horrified faces before he slammed the door loudly against them.

Oh.

You forgot that they were visiting. Shit.

You see that Cain was agitated, threatened, even. He began hurling profanities at them, wishing doom on them, so on and so forth. He was panicking; the only way he could express this was by lashing out and pulling on his already messy, short, fiery hair.

You tried calming him down, but that only made him spiral more.

"They said that they're your friends-- They're nothing! They're nothing to you, they don't fucking matter! They're scum, they're trash!" He screamed as tears streaked down his frenzied face. Cain began hyperventilating, the more you tried to get him to see reason. "I'll fucking kill them, I fucking will!"

You decided to shut up and let him burn all his fuel out. All this while, you were extremely baffled as to what suddenly set him off. You know, Cain could be somewhat decent to strangers; he doesn't go off on the delivery men that sometimes come here to give you your packages or food. He would sometimes even be the one who signed the delivery confirmation form with no issue. Not even door-to-door salesmen would make him erupt like this; at most, he would just close the door on them. Why is he suddenly so territorial?

And as predicted, his explosion ended with him curling up into a pathetic ball of misery on the floor. You think your friends decided to leave you and him alone for a while, you're definitely getting a very concerned phone call later.

So, you did. And you managed to convince that you're okay, and Cain is a good man. It was challenging, but they decided to respect your wishes. Or maybe they also didn't want to deal with that unstable landmine of a person.

You don't think he left the apartment without you during the entirety of winter. He would flare up as soon as he felt a draft, and you wonder if it's a traumatic response to something. Either way, you don't think you should pry if he's not ready to talk about it.

Cain got very comfortable with you now. The sofa bed is left empty, now he goes straight into your bedroom. It doesn't matter if you're purposely hogging the bed, he would either manhandle you as if you're his beloved stuffed teddy bear, or have the audacity to say, "Scoot your ass over."

He developed a habit of possessively wrapping his arm around your waist whenever both of you were out. Instead of waiting for you to move out of the way or barking commands to move aside, Cain would just manually move you by guiding your shoulders or sometimes, your hips.

He seemed to be starved of touches. Whenever you take an afternoon nap without him, you would wake up to find Cain holding you in his arms. And he gets annoyed at you for waking him up. When you would spend the day watching television on the sofa, Cain would either lie his head on your lap, or trap you into his- making you his personal lap table for the bowl of popcorn you two shared.

Cain needed something to occupy his hands. So he chose to massage yours instead to soothe himself. It felt nice to apply pressure to your palm and fingers, but sometimes he wasn't aware how strong he was. You would wince at the pain, which caused him to frown, and spit,

"Fucking wimp."

But then, he would bring your hands to his lips to kiss them, and adjust his strength to not hurt you anymore. He wouldn't outright apologize or thank you for most things, but he has his own way to express remorse, guilt, and gratitude.

It felt... strangely natural. He wasn't making it awkward at all when he transitioned from not touching you at all to giving you regular cuddles, kisses, and even sharing beds. Cain moved like it's always been this way, as if he had always given you a kiss on the forehead before dropping you off at your workplace, as if he had always kissed you on the back of your neck to thank you for the meal. Whenever you stood in front of him to say something, he would have his large, calloused hands gripping your arms in place as he listened. You never knew what the purpose of it was, as he doesn't seem to be aware that he's doing it.

You're not necessarily complaining that whenever the two of you waited at the bus stop, in the cold, he would bury you in his chest. It's ridiculously warm, and he would wrap his heavy coat around both of you. Cain would absentmindedly rub your back up and down, stroke your hair as he remains hypervigilant for any assailants that could attack the two of you. And you would be lying when you said that it doesn't make you feel all fluttery inside.

Cain was willing to open up even more on how he feels about various things. But it was still excruciatingly difficult.

One day, he decided to talk to you about your giving nature. It occurred when you decided to give a homeless man some spare change.

"Why did you do that?" He asked when you and he reached the comfort of your apartment. Cain didn't remove his coat just yet, while you're practically stripping everything off yourself because your heating system is too efficient.

"Why did you give that bum money? He didn't work for it." He clarified what he meant. You can see that he's asking from a place of curiosity, not hostility or judgment.

You shrugged and said that it makes the world a better place.

"How?" He furrowed his eyebrows in frustration.

He would have enough money to buy himself something hot to eat and drink.

"That's bullshit. He's going to waste it on booze and drugs."

You asked him how he would know.

"All these bastards think about is their next high." He frowned bitterly.

You said that everyone can change. You wanted to tell him off for being a hypocrite, but it probably isn't a good idea. He vehemently disagreed.

"No they fucking can't. You're being used, you're being a damn jackass! You should have kept that for yourself, these fuckers can't even give you anything of worth back but have the balls to ask for a handout!" He was getting more and more exasperated by the second.

You decided to clam up.

"They're scum, they're all fucking good for nothing pieces of shit!" He continued his angry ranting as he entered the bathroom to freshen up.

And conversations that were deeper than small talk usually go something like that. You refused to be the one who started chatting, allowing him to take the initiative. It seems like he's jealous that you're also generous to other people, as anytime he sees you doing a good deed, he would be throwing a tantrum about how you're letting others walk all over you.

You can't really do donations under his watchful eyes anymore, because he would find a way to get it back from them and return the cash into your wallet.

He's always the nicest when it's just the two of you, and the concept of the world stopped existing. The apartment is his safe haven where nothing outside matters. He is in no way romantic, but he would be much, much tender compared to when you first met him. However, it is actually agonizing to live with him hovering over you every waking minute. If the shows you watch involve the topic of child neglect or even families in general, no matter how mild, no matter how positive or negative, ten times out of ten, he would have one of his infamous, explosive meltdowns.

Oddly enough, he's mostly unaffected by documentaries, even if they potentially touch on his traumatic experiences. He tends to watch those that describe how everyday things are made, unfazed by true crime.

You avoided nature and animal documentaries because Cain would get unbelievably distressed if they involved the abandonment of their young.

Outside of that, you don't know what else to do with him. Cain seems uninterested in anything creative, but recently got obsessed with chess for some unknown reason. Regardless of your chess skills, he would beat you in almost every game, only losing to you when he first started out.

Perhaps it was boredom. Perhaps it was arousal, but you and Cain would begin to frequently have sex. And he fucks like a rabid animal, forceful, angry, desperate and primal. Cain would leave bite marks deep enough to bleed, as if he's trying to shred you into pieces. The curtains are always drawn shut because of his inclination to go down on you anywhere in the apartment. He has no problem bending you over the kitchen counter, making your legs spread on the sofa bed, pinning you against the wall, pounding you deep into your bed, letting the sound of the shower drown out your moans... The only place that's off limits is whatever table that held his valuable chessboard and pieces.

And you know that it just takes a deep kiss on the lips to initiate it, where both of your tongues must dance together. Cain would escalate quickly by rubbing his hands under your clothes. But he wouldn't press it if you decided that you're not in the mood anymore; he would just need to deal with his disappointment and sexual frustration on his own, in pure silence.

Cain doesn't say anything when fucking you. There will only be grunts and groans, but no dirty talk. Probably since he's too busy biting the hell out of your flesh.

His aftercare is a bit strange to you. It would be a strange mix of his usual harshness and an unusual dose of sentimentality:

"Get up." He would order you after a long session of post sex cuddling. Knowing him, you shouldn't oppose it.

"Go shower. I'll clean up." He began chucking the blankets, bedsheets, and pillow cases into the laundry hamper. Once he's done and sees that you're still there, he would turn to you and give you an affectionate peck on the forehead.

"You've been so good to me." He then squeezed the cheeks of your face firmly, causing you to pucker. Cain would chuckle at how silly you looked before kissing you lightly on the lips.

"I love you." He would whisper in your ear before letting you go, patting your head in praise.

However, if you just stood there and watched him ready the laundry basket, he would get annoyed.

"The fuck are you doing there, standing ass naked? Either put on some clothes or go take a damn shower." He would point in the direction of the bathroom. This would be enough to send you on your way.

Overall, you think Cain is a confusing man with moods that swing like a pendulum. You don't think he really feels shame towards you, just familiarity, trust, and comfort. And you feel honoured that you get to see his sweet side (sometimes), no one else outside of this apartment could ever hope to witness it, as he's just so spiky towards everyone. You're still so curious as to what sets you apart from all the other people who tried to help... You assume that Cain does have people who tried putting him on the right track in his life, but he pushed them away.

So one day, you mustered the courage to ask him about it. Expecting nothing more than some deranged yelling, you braced yourself:

"They shoved their help down my throat."

To your surprise, his response is as if you asked him for the time. Your speechlessness prompted him to continue.

"I fucking hated them. None of them really wanted to help me; they just wanted to feel good." He scrunched his nose as if he recalled something disgusting. "To them, I'm nothing more than a broken pet to fix. Something that should get no respect. Something practically useless in everything else, but gets them off like some street whore."

That sounds similar to what you thought of Cain. But you didn't say that out loud.

"They can take their fake sympathy and shove it so far up their asses that it kills them. Fuck them all." He snarled.

You let him release whatever steam he had for them. Well, that made sense that he gets crazily upset when you try to impose help without his request in the first place.

Once he's done, he decides to get up from his seat and pick up his now-worn duffel bag. You didn't have to ask him where he's heading out to.

"I'll be back by eight, I just need to get some stuff. Leave your bedroom door open for me." He pecked you on the cheek and smoothed your hair.

You watched him open the door and turned back to face you one more time:

"And don't fucking open the door to anyone that isn't me! You have a habit of doing stupid shit that's going to get you killed if it wasn't for me looking out for you!" He scolded before slamming the door behind him.

You wonder if Cain thinks of you as someone needing his protection, and so that's why you're not a threat to him but an object of his affection. You sat with this question, and you pondered if Cain genuinely thought of you as someone who is handicapped in some way. Made sense, your boundary-setting skills are non-existent, and you're always people pleasing, no matter how detrimental it is to your wellbeing. That's how you scored Cain.

Finally home alone after a while, you felt a little clueless as to what you should do. You know you should update your friends and family that you're doing well, and Cain is nothing they should worry about. Then again, you don't feel like talking to anyone right now.

The apartment looks pretty messy, with all the random junk Cain would bring back. God knows where he gets this merchandise, or where he got the money to buy it. You are actually in heavy denial that he's been shoplifting and wanted to believe that he's living honestly.

You thought it would be a good idea to tidy up a bit before he gets back and unloads more things from his duffel bag. It's a mystery how that bag could contain ungodly amounts of stuff.

You decided to start with the most cluttered part of your living room: the sofa bed. You know these are things that Cain would use daily, but it wouldn't hurt to organise them a bit.

The first thing that caught your eye? The book that Cain was attached to lately, and was almost obsessively reading. You wonder what was so interesting about it until you read the cover of the book.

It was a copy of "How to Be a Good Boyfriend".

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #oc cain #male yandere x reader #male yandere x you #tw toxic relationship #tw violence #tw sex #gender neutral reader

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bittersweet-jack-of-no-trades · 29 days ago

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Stan and Ford, maybe a year after initially setting off on the Stan o' War II, come into harbor to meet up with the kids. They confess, in the interest of family honesty, that they... haven't been doing so well. They love each other, they get along fine, but both of them have emotions, memories, and reactions they can't control. Worst of all, neither of them have any idea how to fix it.

Mabel, who is a proud attendee of therapy (but also understands it would take an act of the Axolotl to get her Grunkles to a therapist), suggests an exercise: writing out their feelings. In other words, journaling. It's a bit ironic, but she thinks they should give it a try. Never ones to say no to their grand-niece, Stan and Ford agree to give it a shot.

Ford finds himself falling into familiar rhythms, and not in a bad way: in between passages on mystical sea creatures and oceanic weather phenomenons, he sketches out faltering descriptions of his feelings. When he has his recurring nightmare of still being trapped within the Fearamid, stuck eternally as Bill's puppet, he draws the scene upon waking and rips up the paper as a sort of emotional release. He does those zentangle doodles too, when Stan is driving the boat and Ford just needs a quiet moment on the bow deck.

Stan... he struggles a little more. He's never been much a writer, and he's certainly never been good at being vulnerable. He can't imagine journaling like his brother--- it just seems too cheesy and too emotional. Instead--- he writes a pretend self-help book. It's stupid excuse to get his feelings out on paper, but it works. Using his many, many terrible life experiences, he pretends to be reaching out to a kid like him--- alone, helpless, planless--- and tells them all sorts of advice he wishes he had. To pretend there's a young Stan he's trying to save by processing his own nightmares and thoughts--- it gives him a sort of bittersweet hope. Stan always thought "self-help" books were a delicious sort of scam (God knows none of them actually helped him), but when Ford accidentally reads it (they really shouldn't have gotten matching notebooks), he's both incredibly impressed by Stan's writing ability, and emotionally wrecked.

It takes a while, but Ford convinces Stan to actually publish the thing. Stan uses a pseudonym (he is, technically, still dead), and changes some of the details (some of those crime lords are still alive, somehow), but he does publish it. As far as self-help books go, it's coarse, crude, and at points a bit gross in its storytelling--- it's also raw, vulnerable, and filled, in places, with some really good advice. When Stan sees some of the reviews explaining how the book helped readers--- maybe even saved them--- he chokes up. For the first time, he's really, actually successful. And now that he is, he doesn't even care about the money--- he's just glad to know there's a kid out there like him that might be able to have a better life, make better choices. If he couldn't find happiness until his 60s, at least someone else will have a chance.

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stanford pines #sea grunks

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ckret2 · 9 months ago

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Reading the book I couldn't help but notice how weirdly touchy Bill is when it comes to his previous romantic relationships. He stops himself from talking about his exes and loses his cool whenever the topic is brought up. What's up with that?

Bill is a toxic, controlling person who's perfectly charming and likable (albeit manipulative as the devil) when he's getting his way, but the moment he isn't getting his way, he gets abusive—emotionally, verbally, physically, psychically...

Look at his relationship with Ford: regardless of whether you interpret that as romantic or platonic, Ford is somebody he liked enough that he went on a bender that ended with grossly sobbing in a fast food restaurant when their partnership fell apart; and yet, as much as Bill liked Ford, when Ford refused to do what he asked, Bill had no trouble mangling him, publicly humiliating him, getting him in legal trouble, attempting to emotionally torment his brother, and threatening worse. That's what he does to a person he likes.

Do you think he was any kinder when he didn't like what his lovers did?

I think every one of his relationships ended not just badly, but SPECTACULARLY horribly. "Hours long screaming match" horribly, "break all the furniture" horribly, "quickly and secretly moving out while Bill's distracted" horribly, "looking up how to file a restraining order from the hospital bed" horribly. Bloody Mary ghosting him is probably one of the softest breakups he's had (and I suspect it's because she saw the red flags and ran before Bill could show his worst side).

NONE of those breakups were amicable. All Bill's exes hate his guts—the ones that survived him, anyway.

And I'd bet you anything that how abusive he got correlated with how much he loved them. (And let's not have any "but that isn't REALLY love" nonsense—performing love as an action and feeling love as an emotion are two different things, and abusers are capable of feeling love for someone they think they've got the right to hurt.)

The more he likes this person, the more it matters to him that they stay forever in the little box he's put them in and the farther he's willing to go to ensure they don't defy or leave him. The more he loved them, the more he hurt them, and the more devastating the breakup.

But if he liked them that much, then the fact that it's OBVIOUSLY his fault wouldn't make getting dumped hurt less. Getting dumped is the thing he was trying to prevent by making them too scared to leave!

All Bill's memories of his exes are memories of people he loved telling him how much they detest him and cutting him out of their lives. Of course he doesn't want to talk about it.

Bill says himself, "love is just the pupa stage for hate." In his experience, that's how it always ends.

#anonymous #ask #bill cipher #the book of bill #the book of bill spoilers #gravity falls #meta

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jazziejax · 2 months ago

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𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Terry Richmond x Black!OC, David Cliff x Black!OC, Jim Beckwourth x Black!OC

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫�� - Things take a turn for the worst when the Nat Love hangs rolls into Sugar Cane Creek, just to discover that things ain’t as sweet as they seem.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - blood, shooting, screaming, cursing, flirting, references to weight, late 1800’s….women in pants, cowboys. Let me know if I missed anything!

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - ….I don’t have to explain myself to your, this was purely self indulgent and yall don’t like RJ Cyler enough for me anyways 🙄 UNEDITED, sorry for any spelling errors and grammar mistakes!

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 10,187+

Sugar Cane Creek stood out against the dark wilderness surrounding it, its colorful buildings painted in deep blues, warm yellows, and rich reds, a stark contrast to the dust that settled over everything in sight. The infamous town thrived despite its location and always has. A hub of trade, gambling, and entertainment that attracted all kinds—some good, some bad, and some that danced on the razor’s edge between the two.

As the Nat Love Gang rode in, the streets had quieted for the night, save for a few stragglers loitering outside gambling halls. The men rode in on their horses, eyed by the drunkenly swaying few under the glow of lantern lights and the rising moon. Watchful eyes followed the gang as they passed, some curious, some wary, and the seldom flirtatious wave from young girls eyeing the slick crusaders that were Jim Beckwourth and David Cliff. They weren’t the first group of dangerous men to ride through this town—and they wouldn’t be the last. But who’s to say those dangerous men ever made it out?

At first, the gang stopped at The Velvet Spur, the finest hotel in the town, its golden trim reflecting the flickering lamplights hung outside. The place was directly across from the bustling casino, a smart business move. They could practically hear as dice rolled, cards shuffled, and fortunes changed in an instant. The music was loud and thumping as the people inside cheered.

Nat led the way inside, followed closely by Jim and David while Bill and Terry kept watch outside. The old clerk behind the desk barely looked up over his specs from the newspaper he read before shaking his head.

“Ain’t got no rooms left,” He grumbled.

The three men stepped at how quickly they were turned down, causing Nat to blink and then look at the two men next to him. Jim, being the playful young man that he was, took his hat off and held his hand up at Nat, telling him to wait. He then stepped forward, coming closer to the clerks desk. He leaned against the counter, flashing one of his disarming grins. “Now, see, that’s a shame, sir. We rode in all this way—”

“No rooms.” The man repeated, unmoved.

“Well, you ain’t even check the book. How are you so sure there ain’t no more rooms if you ain’t even checked the book?” Jim asked, dropping the nice boy act as he gestured to the resident book that sat next to the man, closed. The older man sighed, finally looking up from his reading and at the young man. “I think I would know if the rooms were full or not, young buck. I work here.”

“Yeah, but you are lookin’ a lil, not so young. You could be mistaken—.” Jim continued before being cut off by Nat.

“That’s alright.” He said, cutting the boy off before he could make their situation worse, watching as the old man’s face turned sour at Jim’s words. “Thank you, sir.” He said, offering the clerk a forced polite smile.

David sighed, adjusting his hat on his head. “Guess that means we’re sleeping under the stars again.” He said with a shake of his head. Jim placed his hat back on his head, giving the old man a nasty once over with his signature cinnamon stick in his mouth, before trying around to face his people. Just as they turned to leave, a young worker was rushing from the back, shrugging on his coat. “I could help ya.” He said, catching their attention.” Overhearing their predicament. The men all turned to face him, the young man coming forward as he adjusted his coat.

“They got rooms at The Sweet Tooth.” He said, hitching his thumb toward the door. “It’s a saloon, but they keep a few beds upstairs. In the rooms. Real good insulation too can barely hear a thang downstairs.” He said with a grin.

It was silent for a moment, the three outlaws eyeing the strangely eager young man. The old clerk just looked between them, wanting nothing more than for the strangers and his off-the-clock coworker to leave so he like read in peace. Jim then looked back at Nat, who eyed him before he gave a single nod.

“Lead the way, then,” Nat said, the trio watching as he walked ahead of them to see the other two men waiting outside next to their horses. “I’m Clarance, by the way.” He told them, giving a polite nod to the men who eyed him by the horses, untrusting. None of them said anything in response to his introduction, simply following him across the dirt path to the saloon, the moon casting a pale glow over the bustling town.

Laughter and music spilled from the establishment, mixing with the occasional distant crack of a pistol—warnings, celebrations, or something in between.

The Sweet Tooth stood at the heart of it all of the town, smack in the middle on the right side. Its name glowed in golden letters above the entrance, the flickering lanterns giving it a warm, inviting haze. It was alive with music and laughter, a stark contrast to the quiet outside. The smell of whiskey, tobacco, and the faint scent of something sweet hung in the air, mixing with the heat of too many bodies packed into one space. The place was packed, as expected, the heavy scent of whiskey and perfume wafting through the open doors. It wasn’t the downright fanciest establishment in town, but it had its charm—polished wood, golden trim, and deep red curtains that framed a small stage where a woman in a fitted blue dress crooned a slow melody.

The young worker turned to face the gang, standing before the saloon doors with an eager nod. “Go on in. Cotton’s got rooms for folks like y’all.”

“Folks like us?” Terry asked, his light-colored eyes striking as he raised a brow, stepping past him.

Clearance grinned. “Roughriders. Outlaws. Gunmen. All kinds.” He shrugged. “She don't much care, long as you got the coin and ain’t too much trouble.”

Nat glanced at David and Jim before nodding for them to enter. They barely made it past the entrance before they were flanked by two burly men and a woman in between them. “Well, well, don’t reckon I’ve seen y’all ‘round here before. Stayin’ or goin’?” She asked, her southern twang filled with nothing but sugar as she looked between them with her big brown eyes. Her smile as inviting as the warm glow of the lanterns inside. Jim and David stepped forward a little, eyes set on the woman while the other men admired from behind. They almost got shoved back by the men at her side, who they eyed threateningly before looking back at the beautiful woman. “We’ll be staying’ for the night. Though I’d rather stay whenever you are.” Jim flirted, not hiding the way he checked the woman out.

“And what might your name be?” David smirked.

The woman just grinned at them, becoming even more beautiful in the men’s eyes. “The names’ Suga. Come on in.” She said, nodding at them to enter before walking away. The group of five men tried to make their way in, before being stopped by the large men again. Suga rushed back, a smile on her face as one of the men grabbed a big chest. “Sorry, forgot to say weapons go the case.” She said. “Not taking them or nothin’, they’ll be up in your room for you to grab after you pay. Just don’t want no trouble.” She explained before looking the closest one, who happened to be Jim, up and down, a certain glint in her eye. A glint Jim caught with a smirk. She then glanced at the rest of the group of handsome men. “And you gentlemen look like trouble.” She said before walking away again. “And I trust you’ll put them all away.”

The men put all of their weapons in the case, watching as the large man closed it before walking away with the case. Jim was the first in motion, following behind where he saw Suga go, the girl leading the men over to a table near the bar.

“Now I know you fine gentlemen are probably tired from your long way here but I gots to find my sister Cotton in order to get you your rooms.” She explained, standing before them as they all situated themselves into chairs. “Settle in for a bit, enjoy the atmosphere, get a few drinks and I’ll be right back, ‘alright?” She said, offering them a sweet smile before turning on her heel. Her long curls whipped behind her. She didn’t wait for a response from them before her attention was on the bar. “Honey, drinks at table 3! And where the hell is Cotton?!” The girl yelled, not even stopping to gain any form of response from the woman behind the bar. Said woman, Honey, simply stopped wiping the bar countertop and watched Suga disappear into the back before then looking over at table three, where the group of men sat.

She let out a small sigh before grabbing a small notepad and the pencil from behind her head, moving from behind the bar through the small door and over to the table only a few feet away. “What can I help you gentlemen to?” She asked them, her tone a little uninterested as she chewed on the end of a toothpick. She was a stunning woman as well, resembling Suga just a bit. Her skin was lighter, her grin was large, her eyes naturally low and her face was sort of long.

The gang took in Honey’s cool, effortless demeanor as she stood before them, pencil tapping against her notepad. She was beautiful, no doubt, but unlike Suga’s flirtatious charm, Honey carried herself with a calmer demeanor, like a woman who had the patience of a monk. Since she was a bartender, having to constantly deal with drunk men and bar fights, probably.

Jim, never one to pass up an opportunity to lay on the charm, leaned forward with a smirk, resting his forearm on the table. “Well now, Honey, I’d say we’ll take whatever you recommend.”

Honey’s expression didn’t change drastically, the woman simply bling at him. But the corner of her mouth twitched like she was holding back a laugh while her eyes squinted a little as she looked down at the attractive man. “Whiskey, gin, or bourbon?” She questioned with a quirk of her brow, chewing her toothpick.

David chuckled under his breath, exchanging a glance with Jim before turning back to the woman. “Whiskey. And whatever you like.” He grinned, taking his hat off and placing it on the table.

Honey raised a brow at him, then scribbled down the order. “I like Vodka. Some you ain’t ever had.” She turned on her heel without another word, leaving the men to watch her go, amusement dancing in their eyes as she swayed away.

Terry leaned back in his chair, folding his arms as he glanced around the room. “Place got some charm, I’ll give it that.” He stated, his eyes alert and ears open as he took in the vibrant place. His eyes kept going back to the stage, where the live band played, women dancing seductively while getting whistled and catcalled.

Bill, who had been quietly observing, gave a slow nod. “Ain’t too often you see a place like this run by women.”

Nat hummed in agreement, eyes scanning the room. “Means they’re either real good at what they do… or real dangerous.”

The saloon fell into a hushed lull the moment they heard the sound of thumping. The men all looked around in confusion and on edge before their eyes drifted to the stage, watching as a woman flanked by two other women walked onto the stage.

A rounder woman stood at the center of the small stage, her brown skin glowing under the dim lantern lights. Her curls were pinned up with only a few strands loose, framing her face. She was dressed in a fitted, off-the-shoulder gown, the color a deep blue and she swayed as she sang, her voice filling the saloon with raw emotion.

“Break them chains and shackles,

Ain’t no man gon’ hold me down…”

The crowd was captivated, hanging onto every note. Some clapped along, others lifted their glasses in admiration, and a few swayed, lost in the song’s spell.

The rhythmic thumping continued, echoing through the saloon like a heartbeat. It wasn’t just the sound of boots against wood—it was deliberate, steady, almost ceremonial. The two women flanking the singer clapped their hands in time, their movements graceful yet firm, adding to the weight of the moment.

“Storm may come, but I won’t tremble,

Gonna walk on free somehow…”

The entire saloon seemed to be under her spell. Even the most hardened outlaws and whiskey-soaked gamblers paused their games, their attention drawn to the woman commanding the room with nothing but her voice.

“Go on, Fluffy!” Someone called from the crowd, a man tapping his boot against the wooden floor in rhythm with her voice.

The men couldn’t deny the effect of her heavenly voice, captivating their attention as well, moving spirits they each thought they lost long ago. Nat’s fingers drummed lightly against the table, his expression unreadable. While David, Jim, and even Bill and Terry leaned forward in interest, watching the curvy woman. Drawn in by both the music and the presence of the women on stage.

David watched, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. “Now that is a voice.” He murmured, his admiration clear as he looked the woman up and down, her size and closet making her chest pop in a whole new way.

Terry nodded in agreement, eyes locked on, as the crowd called her, Fluffy. “Yeah… and a whole lot more.” He added, ignoring the way his companions all eyed him at his out-of-character statement.

Fluffy’s voice soared into the final verse, and for a moment, the entire saloon seemed to hold its breath. Even those deep in their drinks or their poker games turned to watch her, drawn in by the depth of her voice, the weight of her song. As she finished, the room erupted into cheers and applause. Fluffy beamed, taking a small bow before stepping back from the mic. The band behind her kept playing, transitioning into a livelier tune, but all eyes were still on her as she made her way down from the stage.

Honey eyed them all as she made her way back over with their drinks on a tray, following their eyes to her sister who mingled with the band. Still chewing on her toothpick, she smirked at the obvious intrigue they all showed. “Yeah, Fluffy tends to have that effect on people.” She said, catching all of their attention. “But careful now. She might sing sweet, but she’s got more bite than bark. Girls’ mouth is foul.” She told them as she sat the drinks at the table.

“I can handle that.” Jim scoffed, causing the woman to raise a brow at the back of his head since none of the women took their eyes off Fluffy. Well, not Nat and Bill, who eyed the woman giving them drinks. “Okay, hotshot. Go for it.” She scoffed at him, amusement clear in the small grin she held. And Jim, ever the opportunist, wasted no time in standing when Fluffy made her way over to the bar. “That was real nice.” He called out, his signature smirk in place once he caught her attention. “Real nice.”

Fluffy’s eyes landed on him, slowing down her trek only slightly as she made her way to the bar, and for a moment, her expression was unreadable. Then, slowly, her smirk matched his. “That right?” She called back, tilting her head at him.

“Sure is.” Jim drawled, tipping his hat. “Got a voice that could make a man rethink all his sins.”

Fluffy let out a soft chuckle, grabbing the closest drink in sight, that she was lucky to be the water Homey sat out prior, and then backed away from the counter with effortless grace. “And you look like a man with plenty of ‘em.” She told him, placing her hands on her hips.

David nearly choked on his drink, while Terry and Billie tried to hide their amusement by holding their heads down. Even Nat cracked a small smile.

Jim placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “Now that ain’t fair. That ain’t fair at all. You don’t even know me yet.” He said, a fake pout on his lips, his cinnamon stick still sticking out his plump lips.

Fluffy, now standing just a few feet away, raised a brow. “Yet? How ‘bout not at all, scrub.” She said, then turning on her heel and walking away from him. David and Terry choked on their laughs while Jim gaped at the woman.

Honey, who had made her way over to the bar as they talked, was now standing behind the bar. She let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “What’d I tell ya?” She said before letting out a small laugh and going back to fix more drinks.

Suga then came back from the back and looked a tad agitated with her hands on her hips. “Can’t find Cotton’s behind nowhere. That girl is never in the spot you leave her in.” She grumbled to Honey she came a stole at the bar. The bartender just cleaned cups, looking at her sister with a call face.

“What’d you need Cotton for?” She asked.

“I needed her to check these men in for a room tonight. She’s the one who always does it.” Suga stated.

“And why can’t you do it?” Honey asked, her tone annoyingly calm for the younger girl's liking, causing Suag to squint her eyes at the woman. “Cause I ain’t done it before.” She said firmly.

“Why don’t you just try?”

“Why don’t you just try, huh? Since it’s oh, so, damn easy. It ain’t that simple, Heidi.” Suga spat, slamming her hands down on the counter a tad. That caused Honey to arch a brow at her, eyes turning stern. “Watch your tone, youngin’. Before I douse you in alcohol and throw you in the fire pit.” She said, pointing a finger at the girl. Suga just groaned, bringing out her youngest sister's attitude with the second oldest. She looked at her sister, unbeknownst, or not caring, to the group of men who subtly listened in now and then to their conversation.

“Can you just come help me? Just this once?” She begged. Honey sighed, setting down the cup she had been cleaning and shaking her head as she slapped the rag onto the counter. “Lord, you’re helpless.”

Suga huffed. “I ain’t helpless, I just ain’t done it before!”

Honey just rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. But you best pay attention, ‘cause I ain’t gon’ be doin’ this for you every time. This caused Suga to beam, grabbing Honey’s wrist and pulling her from behind the bar. The older sister shook her head but let her drag her along, her boots clicking against the worn wooden floors as they made their way toward the check-in area. Honey grabbed the book from the desk before moving back over to the group of men. “Follow me, get y'all settled in.” She said, offering them a polite smile as she nodded her head elsewhere. “Y’all got horses?” Honey asked, looking back at them.

Nat nodded.

She motioned for them to follow. “Come on, then. Stables are out back.”

The night had settled into a steady hum—distant music from the saloon, laughter from the streets, the occasional hoot of an owl. They walked the horses from across the road to the back of the saloon, the stables a good distance from the bar. The Sweet Tooth’s lanterns cast a golden glow over the dirt road as they made their way to the back, where the modest stable stood. The scent of hay and leather mixed with the lingering perfume of the saloon. The horses snorted softly as the men led them into the stables, their hooves thudding against the wooden floor.

Honey moved with practiced ease, unlatching the stable doors and gesturing for them to bring the horses in. “Y’all take that side.” She instructed, pulling her sleeves up. “Ain’t got no stable boys this late, so if you want ‘em fed and brushed, best get to it.” She stated, waiting for the men to lead their horses into the extra rooms available for them.

The men stood there for a moment, only sharing a glance before Honey crossed her arms, watching them with an amused tilt of her head. “Y’all ever put up your own horses before, or you just let the stable boys do it for ya?” She mused, a smirk playing on her lips.

Jim, always the first to have something to say, scoffed as he led his horse inside. “Course we know how to put up our own damn horses. Just ain’t used to bein’ told to do it by a lady.” He stated, shrugging as if it was some simple thought as he looked over at her, still chewing on that same stick of cinnamon. The men, one by one, eased their trusted animals into the available resting spot for the night.

Honey let out a short laugh. “Well, ain’t that a shame? Guess y’all better get used to it ‘round here.” She said, causing Suga to grin as she watched the men put the animals away. David chuckled under his breath, watching as Jim rolled his eyes but got to work. Nat, ever the quiet observer, led his own horse inside without a word, his sharp eyes noting the ease with which Honey moved.

“You run this place, then?” He spoke up and asked, his voice low and even but ever curious.

Honey glanced over at him as she softly kicked a bale of hay next to one of the stalls, mentally reminding herself to move it if Cotton didn’t. “Nah. That’s Cotton’s job. But between me and Suga, we do our best to make sure it don’t fall apart.”

Terry, brushed down his horse with steady strokes from a spare brush he picked up, looking over at her with a small smirk. “And where exactly is this Cotton?”

Honey sighed, pushing the stray curls from her halo braid from her face. “That’s the million-dollar question, ain’t it?” She grinned and then looked toward the saloon as if expecting Cotton to materialize. “Girl’s like a ghost when she wanna be.”

Before she could be questioned further, Jim spoke up, grinning loudly in the dead of night within the hollow stable. “Don’t think I ever had to work for a bed before.” Jim sighed, shaking his head as he ran a hand down his horse’s neck.

Honey grinned, catching his words as she leaned against one of the stable doors. “Ain’t too used to takin’ orders from women either. Well, welcome to Sugar Cane Creek.” She said.

They were just finishing up when the sharp clang of metal rang out, followed by the scrape of buckets rolling across the dirt. “Who’s supposed to be watchin’ the bar and servin’ drinks if you two are back here?” Instinct kicked in—the men straightened, hands twitching toward holsters that weren’t there. Suga and Honey quickly turned from where they stood, Suga opened one of the stable doors to cover her vulnerable sun was shots were fired while Honey gripped the gun hidden in the back of her dress, her tucked shirt riding up.

A figure stood at the entrance to the stable, framed by the lantern light and the shadows of the night. It was a woman, dressed in fitted brown trousers, a crisp white blouse, and a matching leather vest. A hat sat atop her head, casting a slight shadow over her striking features. Her stance was confident, hands were perched on her hips, her sharp eyes scanning the scene. She stepped further into the stables, showing how a single brow arched high as she looked between Suga and Honey expectantly. The lantern light cast a golden glow over her smooth brown skin, and though her stance was firm, there was a hint of amusement in her sharp gaze.

Suga’s slight pains turned into familiarity, a bright smile appearing on her typically bubbly face. “Well, look who finally decided to show up.

“Yeah, you know this place don’t run well without you, Cotton.” Honey teased.

The woman scoffed, crossing her arms. “Don’t play with me, Suga and Honey. You know damn well I was tendin’ to the ranch at Mama’s. Now who’s keepin’ the Sweet Tooth runnin’ while y’all out here flirtin’ and playing table hands?”Her voice was smooth yet firm, carrying over the stableyard like a whip crack. There was something different about her compared to her sisters—less sugar, more steel.

Honey sighed. “Ain’t nobody playin’.” She said.

“And ain’t nobody flirtin’,” Suga added, glancing over at the men. “We’re just settlin’ these gentlemen in.”

At the mention of gentlemen, the woman’s gaze flicked toward the group, scanning them with a quick, practiced sweep. And then let out a dry chuckle, shifting her weight onto one hip. “Oh, really? ‘Cause from what I see, you got a whole mess of men out here playin’ stable boy while the saloon runs damn near itself.”

Jim, never one to miss an opportunity, stepped forward with an easy grin. “Now, I wouldn’t say we’re playin’, miss. Just followin’ orders.” His voice was all honeyed charm, his grin even more so.

The woman arched a brow, unimpressed. “That right?” She turned her gaze to Honey, who merely shrugged. “They needed a place to sleep. No stable boys this late. Seemed only fair they work for it.”

David stepped forward, sensing this was the infamous name they’d been hearing all night. “That you, Miss Cotton?” He asked curiously, eyeing the woman up and down from the stable she stood directly next to, causing her to turn her head and look him up and down. She then met his gaze without hesitation. “Depends. Who’s askin’?” She questioned, quirking a brow at him

Jim, never one to pass up a chance to charm, took a step forward with his best smile. “Jim Beckwourth, at your service.” He gave a small bow as he took his hat off his head. “And might I just say, Miss Cotton, you wear them trousers better than any man I’ve ever seen.”

Cotton only let pout a faux amused hum as she tilted her head at him. “I’m sure you say that to every woman in pants, Mr.Beckworth.”

“I don’t,” Jim replied smoothly. “Only the ones that take my breath away.”

Suga snorted behind her hand while Honey rolled her eyes. “Good Lord.” She scoffed. Cotton, however, remained unimpressed, though there was the slightest twitch at the corner of her eyes as she sized the man up. She then stepped closer, looking Jim up and down with a slow, deliberate gaze before nodding once.

“Hm. That so?” She drawled, before reaching out and tapping the brim of his hat with a single finger. “Well, Mr. Beckwourth, I reckon you best hold onto that breath of yours. You’re gonna need it if you plan on keepin’ up ‘round here.”

Jim’s grin widened. “That a challenge?”

“It’s a fact,” Cotton stated firmly with a smirk. She then hummed a small tune, tapping a finger against her arm as she glanced around at the scene—half-groomed horses, saddles still slung over posts, and a handful of outlaws looking more amused than weary. “Hmph. Well, I’ll take it from here, dear sisters.” She said, walking over to her sinking and taking the reservation book from Honey’s hands. “Thank you, Heidi, Susanna.” She said, a fake smile on her face as she looked between them while the men’s eyes widened some at the revelation of them all being related.

Honey rolled her eyes at the use of her full name. “Don’t start, Cotton.”

Cotton, now properly named, let out a scoff as she shook her head. “Already did.” Then, with a nod toward the men, she tipped her hat. “Let’s go get you brothas settled in properly, shall we?” She said, nodding over to the saloon before she turned on her heel, leading the way back inside and expecting them to follow.

Suga let out a low whistle as the group watched the woman walk away, staying to help the men finish putting the animals up before following after Cotton. “She always knew how to make an entrance.” She said, placing her hands on her hips as her dress swayed in the nightly breeze, more so speaking to her sister next to her, but Jim chimed in from behind the pair as the group followed the woman back in.

“Can’t say I mind it all too much.” He said his grin still in place. David, who had been quietly observing the exchange, let out a small chuckle. “Think we know why she’s the one actually runnin’ things ‘round here.”

Honey scoffed at them, flashing a quick look behind her, but she didn’t deny it. “Y’all done gawkin’ or you need a few more minutes?” She asked, speaking to the main paper that seemed to be on one all night.

Jim continued to smirk, twisting the flavorful fired plant in his mouth. “Guess that depends. You got more sisters hidin’ ‘round here?” He asked, quirking a brow at her. Honey simply narrowed her eyes at him before turning away from them again. “Stable’s done for now. Y’all can come inside if you know how to behave.” She said, eyeing the younger pair of men behind her before opening the doors back into the establishment. Suga snorted, nudging her sister on her way in as they all followed her back into the saloon. “That’s a big if.”

The women led them over to the bar, where Cotton was behind the counter, second a few drinks. She looked up at the movement in her peripheral, catching the group enter. She slid a drink down the counter to a waiting man before setting the dish rag down and then grabbing the reservations book, walking from behind the counter.

She moved with an air of authority, her hat now gone to show her long white patch of hair at the front of her hair. It was divided into two sections down the middle and going down either side of her face into the two long braids she had going down her back. The unique silver color for a woman her age was setting her apart as much as the tailored vest and trousers she wore instead of a dress. She had a gun strapped to her hip, and two holstered to her back, but it wasn’t just for show—every man in that saloon could see it.

She stopped just a few steps from the table, one hand resting on her hip as she took them all in, her dark eyes sharp and assessing. “How many rooms yall need?”

“Five,” Nat answered. “Just for the night.”

Cotton clicked her tongue, glancing toward the book she held before looking back up at them. “Ain’t got five rooms, but I got three. Two of y’all will have to share.” She stated, her tone leaving no room for disagreement.

Jim and David immediately turned to look at each other, their expressions mirroring the same silent conversation—not it.

“I’ll bunk with Bill,” Terry offered softly, to which Bill simply nodded. Cotton gave a satisfied nod. “Payment’s due upfront. No exceptions. 25 cents a night. She stated. Nat pulled a small pouch from his coat, dropping it onto the table. Cotton took it without hesitation, weighing it in her hand before tucking it away. “Rooms are upstairs. Suga’ll show you to ‘em.” She said. She stared at them for a moment, her flickering over all of them before offering her first smile since she’d met them.

“Enjoy your stay in Sugar Cane Creek, boys.” She smiled. “And just watch yourself with the women in this here establishment. Don’t want to start no trouble where there don’t need to be nun’.” She stated, her smile turning tense before disappearing right before their eyes. “And I don’t quite have the patience for that.” She sneered.

Jim placed a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “Trouble? Us? Never.” He said, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. Cotton, however, wasn’t amused. She just blinked at them. “Y’all keep yourselves in line.” She murmured before turning on her heel to face the two women behind her.

“And you doves can get back to work. This ain’t no social hour.” She said.

Suga rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, ma’am.” She said as she watched her oldest sister walk away, leaving her to get the men settled in.

“Now that’s a woman,” Jim stated firmly. “I think I’m in love.” He said, watching Cotton walk away from them. David leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose, his eyes on the woman as well. “I like this place.”

Terry simply sighed. “You think that every time you meet a woman with a sharp tongue and a pretty face.”

Jim just chuckled, clearly unbothered. “Yeah, but this time, I really mean it.”Nat just chuckled, shaking his head. It was going to be an interesting night.

They all stood from their seats, downing the last of their drinks and following the young woman up the stairs. She led the men up across the room, the beginning of the steps near the stage. The stairs were large and sort of grand for just a saloon, but The Sweet Tooth was different to begin with, starting out with how big it was.

The wood did creak under their weight, however, Suga’s purple dress swaying with each step as she jingled the keys in her hand, drawing the attention of the group of men behind her, almost putting them in a trance.

“Alright, gentlemen, listen up.” She called over her shoulder as they reached the second floor. The hall was sort of like a balcony, with large pillars holding most of the upstairs view from the people down below, but the view from up top gave them a wide angle of the casino. She stopped in the dimly lit hallway, motioning toward the doors ahead.

“This hall here holds rooms three, four, and five.” She handed a key to Nat, another to Bill, and the last to Jim, who twirled it between his fingers with an easy grin. The small metal objects each had a plated tag hanging off of it, showcasing the room number that was also welded on the door. “Y’all are payin’ twenty-five cents a night, no exceptions. If you plan on stayin’ longer, I suggest you pay upfront, ‘cause once the room’s claimed, it’s claimed.” She began before along again, leading them closer to their abodes for the night.

She gestured toward the first door on the left, room three. “Room three’s got two beds, room four’s got two as well, and room five’s got one. If y’all want coffee and breakfast in the mornin’, you’ll either have to take a walk over to The Velvet Spur across the road, they serve food for a price. Or you can head over to Poundcake’s. That’s the diner ‘bout five doors down from here.” She folded her arms, turning around and glancing between them. “Any questions?” She asked sweetly.

David nodded toward the far end of the hall. “What about baths?”

Suga grinned. “You lookin’ to soak or just rinse off?”

David exhaled through his nose, amused. “Preferably soak.” He said, a small hitch in his brow as he looked at the woman.

“Then you’ll have to take yourself down to the bathhouse. Across the way, ‘bout a block down. They got heated water if you’re willin’ to pay extra. But if all you need is a quick rinse, we got a pump out back. Cold as hell, but it’ll do the trick.“

Jim scoffed. “Cold water don’t suit me.” He said, looking the woman up and down. Suga just fluttered her lashes at him as she blinked. “Well, lucky for you, Mr. Beckwourth, I don’t recall askin’.” Suga flashed a playful grin before nodding toward the doors. “Now, go on. Y’all smell like road dust and bad decisions.” She sighed wistfully before moving past them, her sweet scent trailing behind as she disappeared from their vicinity. Jim watched the woman walk away, a mischievous glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips.

The men chuckled as they made their way into their respective rooms. The accommodations were simple but clean—wooden bed frames with thick quilts, a small writing desk, a half bath, and a washbasin in the corner. Though room five, the one David got lucky choosing, had a bath and tub available for him to use. Looks like he landed himself in the couples' suite.

They didn’t waste much time settling in, only taking a moment to stash their bags and pull their weapons from the box those men carried in earlier. They barely had a moment to breathe before a sharp bang rang out from downstairs, the sound of something slamming, followed by the unmistakable sound of a bell being rung inside the saloon.

All five men froze, their hands instinctively going toward their guns. They all rushed out of their rooms, looking over the balcony and into the busy bottom floor, which now stopped what they were doing, looking around and waiting for the bell to stop ringing.

The music halting and the chatter dying made them able to hear the sound of rapid footsteps pounding against the floorboards outside. The door burst open, and a young boy came bursting through the saloon doors, huffing and puffing with his hat in his hands. “Crimson Hoods.”He warned. “Coming in fast.”

The air in the saloon shifted. Voices hushed even more. Everything was still for a moment, among them able to hear the distant sound of hives hitting the ground. This caused Cotton to sigh, coming from behind the bar. “You know the drill. Get to it.” She stated firmly. Her voice wasn’t raised, but it carried through the room like a command, settling into every ear and spine.

And that was all it took.

Chairs scraped against the floor as men pushed back from their tables, downing the last swigs of their drinks before moving swiftly to their places. Guests were led to the back while the workers at the gambling tables grabbed the weapons attached to their person and from under chairs and tables. Some headed for the windows, peeking through the curtains, while others took up positions near other entrances. The saloon moved like a well-oiled machine, each person knowing their role without hesitation. The gamblers armed themselves swiftly, drawing weapons from hidden holsters, under tables, and from inside waistbands.

The piano player shut the lid over the keys and stepped aside, revealing a shotgun tucked neatly beneath the bench. One of the assistant bartenders slipped a pistol from under the counter, checking the chamber before setting it within reach.

Women, too, moved with purpose. A few waitresses strolled toward the back halls, guiding guests and working girls away from the main floor, while others stationed themselves behind furniture, weapons discreetly in hand, from knives to revolvers. The Sweet sisters were no exception—Honey pulled a sawed rifle from behind the bar, Fluffy nicked up her dress and unstrapped the large knife from her thigh, and Suga grabbed the two pistols from Cotton's back holsters as she passed, spinning the chamber before snapping it shut. And Cotton sat the shit fun she has by the door, another two pistols at her for a quick draw.

Upstairs, the men exchanged looks. It was clear this wasn’t the first time Sugar Cane Creek had braced itself for a fight. And it seemed that they had led trouble right to their doorstep.

“Well,” Bill muttered, rolling his shoulders. “Guess unwindin’ will have to wait. He sighed before beginning to walk off towards the stairs. Nat was already moving with him, his expression grim. “Let’s go.” He grumbled. Without hesitation, the rest of the gang followed, boots thudding against the worn wooden floors as they made their way downstairs. “This is one hell of a welcome,” Bill muttered, pressing his lips into an impressed smirk, the thrill of it all thudding in his heart.

The Sweet sisters stood at the door, Cotton giving orders to the men that lingered while Honey and Suga flanked each side of the swinging entrance. “Ajei, Dezba, I want you to upstairs in my office by the window, don’t be seen and shoot on my whistle.” She commanded the two Native dealers, dressed in crisp white shirts, black vests, and slacks, to give her a curt nod before moving. “Let Charles and Sanford know you’re there.” She said, referring to snipers stationed on her roof.

She then turned to the large men who stopped them on their way in. “Gordo, Rito, I want you two to walk out with me when they touch down.” She stated as she moved over to the door, the butt of her shotgun dragging against the ground. And then she stood there, fingers wrapped around her gun. Her sisters stood on either side of the door while Gordo and Rito stationed themselves behind her.

A thick silence then fell over the saloon, making the sound of thudding hooves loud as they got closer and closer. The new group of men all looked at one another, watching as the situation seemed to be going a bit smoothly without them. But they needed to step in. Those hoods were there for them, probably being trailed far back, and led them right into Sugar Cane Creek.

They heard the hooves approaching, the thunderous sound echoing within the quiet bar before they began to come to a halt. The silence in the saloon was thick enough to choke on, broken only by the slow, steady thudding of hooves against packed dirt. The Crimson Hoods were close now. Too close.

Nat and his gang exchanged looks, understanding passing between them without words. This situation was running smoothly without their interference—for now. But they knew damn well that those men weren’t here for the Sweet family. No, they had to have been trailed. Led those rough necks right into Sugar Cane Creek. Nat exhaled sharply through his nose, glancing at his men before giving a firm nod. Time to move.

Once their hooves finally decided to decent slowly, Cortton nodded her head at the drop that surrounded her. Honey and Suga tightened their grip on their weapons while Gordo and Rito pushed the doors open, moving to step outside before their boss did. The air was tight with tension, thick and heavy like the humidity before a storm. There was a long moment of silence before Cotton decided to make her move. She stepped out onto the creaking porch, the only sound slicing through the silence was the slow, deliberate thump of Cotton’s rifle against wooden boards as she strode forward, her boots clicking against the dusty and dried porch.

There they were. The Crimson Hoods, sat still on their horses, a dozen shadowy figures cloaked in deep red. The leader at the front made a show of dismounting once the woman walked out, his movements unhurried, almost lazy. A few of the gang members staggered, trying to follow the man. The supposed ring leader yanked the sack off his head, revealing a smirk stretched across sharp features, the silver gleam of his gills catching in the dim lantern light.

Red Benny.

His name carried weight across parts of the West, whispered in places where men feared to speak too loud. A man who lived for the thrill of conquest, for the chaos his gang carved into the land like a hot knife through butter. For the riches, he’d blow in the same hour of obtaining them.

Cotton squared her shoulders, rifle still in hand but not yet raised. She knew better than to move first.

“Evenin’, Miss Sweet.” Benny drawled, his voice a slow, smooth rasp, like whiskey rolling over jagged rocks. “Ain’t this a fine night?” He asked with a sly grin. Cotton’s expression didn’t waver, her stare locked into his while her men eyed the others next to her. “Depends on who you ask.” She deadpanned as she owned the weight of her gun.

Benny chuckled, shaking his head as he took a bold step forward. The men around him stayed still, waiting for a cue. Neither did Cotton’s men, only soaking the men under her scrutinizing gaze a glance, before focusing on the masked men behind him.

“Now, now,” Benny said, spreading his hands wide as if to show how harmless he was. “No need to be so tense. We’re just passin’ through.”

Cotton’s fingers flexed over the muzzle of her rifle, jaw flexing as she stared down at the man. “Funny thing, Benny. I’ve heard that before, right before a town wound up burned to the ground.” She sighed, moving herself to lean her weight off the large gun and stand firm on her feet, eyes unmoving from his frame. “And that won’t be happening here, boy.”

Benny clicked his tongue, just as a fire lit in his eyes, something full of rage and hatred in them. “You wound me, sweetheart.”

The woman simply let out a small scoff from her place at the center of the porch, moving the rest of her gun on her shoulder. Her movements caused some of the men behind him to reach for their weapons. But Benny quickly held up his hands, signaling them to stop. Cotton simply arched a brow at the bold men behind Benny, not an ounce of fear showing on her at the potential death that almost happened. “Ain’t nobody ever been sweet on you, Benny. And I damn sure won’t be the one to start.”

His grin widened, making his annoyance and bitterness with faux amusement. “That so?” He questioned. Cotton just stared at him, quirking a brow due to the timing since that followed, wanting to see his next movie or he could move on. He let his gaze drift, wiping his nose as his eyes caught the sight of hats moving inside. His eyes landed briefly on the shadows behind the saloon’s swinging doors, where more figures lurked. Cotton’s expression remained unreadable, but the weight of her stare was heavy, unrelenting. The way Benny spoke, all slow and measured, trying to put on that boyish charm, only made her grip her rifle a little tighter.

Then, finally, his eyes flicked toward Cotton’s rifle, still at her side.

“I think you may have something of ours in that saloon of yours, that’s all.” The man said, trying to put on this innocent act while he stalled, only building up the irritation within her. Nat stood near the entrance of the saloon, not even tensing at the man’s mention of his crew, his arms folded as he watched Cotton work. He wasn’t one to intervene in another gunslinger’s standoff unless he had to, and right now? Cotton had it handled, but this was just as much as his fight. And if Benny or his boys so much as twitched the wrong way, Nat’s hand was already hovering near his holster.

Cotton tilted her head slightly. “That so?” She asked, though the infliction in her voice never chanted, bland and dry as ever.

Benny nodded, taking another slow step forward. He was near easy up the steps, making Cotton grip the rule tighter while she discreetly signaled to her sisters at the door with a flick of her finger. “Couple of fellas we was trailing a while ago, we lost ‘em. But then for works pretty quickly that they’d turned up here. You wouldn’t happen to know where they are, would you?” He questioned with a quick tilt of his head and a shrug.

Cotton gave a dry chuckle, her free hand settling on her hip. “Sugar Cane Creek ain’t in the business of harborin’ rats, Benny. If somebody’s here, it’s ‘cause they paid their dues, and that means they got my protection.” She let the words hang in the air, firm and final. David watched quietly, eyes steady on the scene unfolding outside. He hadn’t been in Cane Creek long, but he had learned fast—when Cotton spoke, people listened. She’s got control over this entire town, and she don’t even have to raise her voice. He admired that. A show of force wasn’t always necessary, but Cotton could pull the trigger just as easy as she could talk a man into his grave. And if this went south? He’d be ready.

Benny let out a deep sigh, rubbing a hand over his chin before giving her a look that was equal parts amused and frustrated. “Now, see, that’s the thing about you Sugar Creek folks. Always so hospitable.” His voice was thick with sarcasm. “But sometimes, a good host knows when it’s best to hand over the unwanted guests.” He finished, his jaw clenching near the end of his tangent in agitation.

Cotton rolled her shoulders, letting her weight shift. She glanced at Gordo and Rito beside her, simply blinking at the two men as she pretended to think what she was going to say to him. She caught sight of stragglers hiding, people peeking out of their blinds while the bold, eyed them from around corners. It seemed as if the entire town was watching, waiting, breathing in sync with her.

“I don’t take kindly to folks ridin’ up in my town, throwin’ threats at my doorstep,” Cotton said, voice dropping low. “You and your boys may not be outnumbered, Benny. But what you lack in skill and all-around intelligence, well, you see, I make up for it. Ten times over, matter a fact. In this town, and the next. And, quite frankly, any damn town I step my foot into.” She hissed. “Now…” She began, taking a few steps forward and looking down at the man below the steps, the wind blowing dust on the path he stood on. “You sure you wanna see how that plays out?” She asked with a quirk of her brow.

Ans for the first time, Benny’s smirk wavered, his facade cracking under her hard gaze. She caught just a flicker of something calculating behind his eyes, catching the small twitch in his jaw, a tell to his irritation. She knew she got to him. And he knew Cotton wasn’t bluffing. The Sweet family ran Sugar Cane Creek tight, and a fight here wouldn’t be a fair one, and it wouldn’t be one that ended.

Still, the ever egotistical man that he was, he pretended. He had a reputation to uphold.

His smirk turned into something sharper.

“So,” He murmured, voice still deceptively light, “What’s it gonna be, Miss Sweet? You gonna let us on through and take what we owe, or are we gonna have ourselves a little dance?”

Cotton let the moment as she quirked a brow at his suddenly, allowing Benny to sit in his own impatience, and stupidity for the way going to regret acting tomorrow morning.

Her eyes flicked from him to the men behind him, her eyes squinting in the blowing wind as they all stood still as statues, their hands resting near their weapons. The whole town was waiting, listening. Even the wind seemed to hush, as if afraid to stir the wrong way.

Then, slowly, deliberately, Cotton exhaled through her nose and took one more step forward, standing at the very edge of the porch. Her rifle still rested against her shoulder, but the weight of her stare alone might as well have been a bullet.

“You ain’t owed a damn thing.” She annunciated slowly, voice smooth as warm honey but hard as the steel barrel of her gun, raising a bit as she reached her peak. “Not by me, not by this town.”

Benny’s smirk tightened, but his fingers twitched at his side. He wasn’t used to being told no.

Cotton just tilted her head slightly, her tone turning mocking as she continued. “You said you lost ‘em. So tell me, Benny, how’s that my problem?” She asked, blinking at him.

Benny chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Y’see, that’s the thing, Miss Sweet. I don’t like losin’ things. And when I do, I tend to get ‘em back—one way or another.”

Cotton’s lips barely twitched. “That a threat?”

“Ain’t a threat if it’s a promise.”

The town was holding its breath now. Cotton could practically feel her sisters at her back, feel the tension thickening in the air like a storm rolling in.

She clicked her tongue. “Well, then, let me make you a promise, Benny.” She lowered her rifle from her shoulder, resting the butt against her hip, one hand still wrapped around the barrel. “You take one step further, and I put your black ass in the dirt where you stand.” She spat.

Benny stilled.

The men behind him straightened.

Cotton didn’t move an inch.

Then, Benny exhaled through his nose, a slow, sharp breath, before he finally took a step back. He glanced once more at the saloon doors, catching nothing. Then at the eyes peering through windows, at the large men flanking Cotton. His jaw worked as he mulled it over.

But before he could make a decision, Cotton let out a slow, lilting whistle, the sound carrying in the wind.

Then—chaos.

It all happened in a blink. A loud shot rang out, and the man fell to the ground with a sharp pain shooting through his right arm. Benny screamed in anguish as the searing heat bobbled up his arm. He barely processed what he felt and what had happened before another shot tore into his other arm. But his loud exclamations of pure pain were unheard over the cries from the other men as the sniper's bullets howled they found their marks with the rest of the Crimson Hoods.

Benny fell to the ground at the pain, wailing at the top of his lungs at the hot bullets felt as if they boiled under his skin. Cotton slowly descended the steps, her cold eyes trained on the screaming man on the ground as he bled out, her boots slow and measured against the wooden steps until they hit the dirt road.

Controlled chaos ensued around them, Honey and Suga popping out from behind the doors and shooting at hoods that tried to run or pull out their weapons, gunfire cracking through the air. Nat and his gang followed—their fastest gunslingers, David and Jin, moving like shadows, their revolvers striking true. Terry and Bill picked their shots with lethal precision, their rifles sending men to the dust with every pull of the trigger. Nat himself moved like a man with nothing to lose, his pistol barking in his hand.

Cotton stood over Benny, who writhed in the dirt, clutching at his bloody arms, looking down at him as he cried out in anguish. It wasn’t long before gunfire quieted and pains turned back into silence. The last of the Crimson Hoods either lay dead or had fled into the night with injuries they wouldn’t survive. The town, once holding its breath, now released it in a tense, waiting silence.

Save for the lead man, who was now bleeding with the rest of his fallen soldiers. Cotton only looked up from the man when caught the sounds of pleading from next to her, looking over to see David pressing the barrel of his gun to the last man standing. She cast a sharp whistle to catch his attention. When he glanced at her, she shook her head. “Not him.” She said, and David didn’t argue, while she didn’t explain before looking back down at the infamous Red Benny.

“Now you know not to ever try me again.” She stated, not caring if the man heard her over his own screams, Her voice was calm, nearly bored.

She blinked at him. Then, without hesitation, she shot him in the leg. Benny emitted a loud cry.

Cotton barely blinked before turning her attention to the last remaining Crimson Hood. She walked up to him, yanking the burlap sack from his head before gripping his jaw, her fingers digging into his skin until he winced.

“You take him. Take that horse.” She nodded toward the wounded Benny and the tethered stallion nearby, most of the others either running away or dying in the line of fire of the man brawl. “And you get the hell up outta here. I see—or even hear either of your names—I’ll kill you slow.” She spat. The man frantically nodded, causing Cotton to push his face away from her hands. She watched as the man scrambled and gathered Benny and the horse as best as he could ride off, the woman not turning away until she couldn’t see them and could no longer hear Benny’s cries.

Cotton waited until they were gone before she turned, dusting her hands off onto her pants. She then took off her hat to smooth down the front pieces of her hair that came up, her silver money pieces giving her an odd sense of youth. Once straightened, she turned on her heels. “Somebody come clean this shit up!” She called out, stepping back into the saloon without so much as a glance at her family and newfound allies.

The town was still, silent in the aftermath. The only sounds left were the soft clinking of spent shells on the blood-streaked dirt and loud crickets from the forest near yonder.

Jin twirled his revolvers once before sliding them back into their holsters, looking at her walk away with something between respect and amusement. “Ain’t never seen a woman put a man down that quick and still have time to fix her hair after.” He said, admiration somewhat in his tone.

Cotton didn’t respond. She just stepped past them. The moment she crossed the threshold, the tension in her shoulders loosened—but only just. She wasn’t done yet. Inside, the saloon was eerily quiet. People had ducked behind tables, cowered near the walls, or simply frozen in place, waiting to see how the night would end. Her men unstationed themselves, putting their smoking guns down at the sight of no more danger.

Cotton closed her eyes as she rolled her neck, the weight of the night settling in, but she didn’t let it show. Gin still in hand, she walked straight to the bar, grabbed an empty glass, and poured herself a shot of whiskey with steady hands.

She threw it back in one smooth motion before slamming the glass on the counter. Then, without looking, she called out, “We got about ten minutes before more folks come snoopin’. Y’all best start cleanin’ up.” Knowing that her sisters and their new friends had followed her inside, all in a state of limbo at what just occurred.

Honey was the first to move, stepping in and surveying the damage with a nod. “I’ll get someone to strip the bodies for what they have, Gordo and Rito will move them.” She said, already heading for the door again.

Suga clicked her tongue, lazily wiping down the counter as if that would somehow erase the tension still lingering in the air. “Guess that means me and the girls are on blood duty.” She pouted a little, referring to the other waitresses at the bar.

This caused Fluffy to smack her lips, cutting her eyes at her sister. “So I’m on graveyard duty? Again?” She asked, holding her hands on her hips. “My digging clothes are dirty.” She added. Cotton, who had just thrown back another shot, slammed the glass down with a dull thunk. She turned to Fluffy, unimpressed. “Good, ‘cause they’re just gonna get filthy again. Now take four of them men and get to it.” She said, nodding her head over to the working men of the bar. None of the women even had to ask, they didn’t even have to speak, before four of them jumped into action, heading out to the stables to grab supplies to get to digging a mass grave out back.

Once the women left to do their duties for the night, Cotton took one last shot before looking around at the customers who still lingered. “Y’all ain’t gotta go home, but you gotta get the hell up outta here.” She stated, causing the non-staying customers to hurry and scurry out of the saloon, not even caring about the money they left behind for the establishment to take.

Outside, the scraping of boots against dirt and the hushed whispers of those still brave enough to linger filled the air.

Cotton looked over at the group of men who seemed to be nothing but trouble, but she knew tonight wasn’t entirely their fault. Her eyes were back to their dull and unimpressed glint, rhetorical hatred, and quiet anger she felt earlier not in sight. She looked between them before simply blinking. “Welcome to Sugar Cane Creek, this is the Sweet Tooth and I hope you enjoy your stay.” She said, offering the most subtle polite smile before making her way upstairs and down a hall on the opposite side of the saloon, disappearing for the night.

The group of unfamiliar men might’ve been watching before, admiring the beauties The Creek had to offer, but now they knew.

Sugar Cane Creek wasn’t just a town.

It was her town.

184 notes · View notes

revolutionsingingintherainnn · 5 months ago

Text

Sajda 𓆩♡𓆪

Summary: Lando found his greatest love at the worst time. Yet she would always be there with him.

♥ ln x desi!reader [important author's note below] ʚɞ

♥ angst + fluff ʚɞ

♥ tw: death [lemme know if there's anything else] ʚɞ

author's note: i know this says desi!reader, but there's only one thing in hindi that y/n says, and the meaning of it will be revealed later, so y'all can read this, despite it being a desi!reader. and, this is kinda long (that's what she said). the max i mention in this is max f, unless i mention otherwise.

masterlist ☾☼

lando had met y/n in the most unusual way possible. he'd been in a cafe, waiting for his coffee and scone, when he'd seen her walk in. she hadn't looked anything extraordinary to anyone. she looked like the average university student with too many books, and not enough hands to hold them. yet somehow, lando had been intrigued by her. he'd seen many college students around in monaco, yet something about her had made him forget about everyone else, and everything else.

he'd watched, even though he didn't want to come across as a creep, as she fell into a nearby seat, resting her arms and breathing heavily. lando didn't know why she was breathing so heavily. she hadn't ran in, and the weight of her books couldn't have been so much that it was physically draining her.

lando waited for someone to offer her water, but no one did. she was hunched over, her chest falling and rising rapidly, and he couldn't sit back anymore. quickly walking over to the counter, lando requested for a bottle of water, apologising for not ordering at the cash counter. the woman had been kind enough to hand him a bottle, and just said that she would bill it later, before he left.

thanking the woman, lando walked over with the bottle in hand. she was still hunched over, her hand to her chest, and she was still breathing too heavily. he knocked on her table twice, making her head shoot up, staring at him. wordlessly, he offered the bottle to her. she hesitated, but grabbed it, and quickly drank from it, almost finishing the whole thing in one go.

"thank you," she said. her accent was different, and her voice was soft and velvety and kind.

"are you okay?" lando asked.

she nodded, "i am now,"

"would you like help with anything?"

she stared at him for a few seconds, "i'm not accepting help from a stranger,"

lando's eyes widened, "oh, i'm so sorry. i'm lando, it's nice to meet you." he held his hand out for her to shake.

"i know who you are. i follow f1," she said as she grabbed his hand and pulled herself up. staring at her smaller hand in his, lando noticed her ln bracelet.

"so, i take it you like how i drive?" lando smirked, a little cocky.

her eyes narrowed, "sometimes."

his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "what do you mean 'sometimes'?"

"well, y'all are mighty rich and arrogant, and i'd rather not give you the satisfaction by saying i'm a fan of yours," she said, taking her hand back from his. lando hadn't even realised that he was still holding onto her hand.

"that seems ru-" lando broke off when he saw her fighting a smile. he smiled as well, shaking his head.

"i'm y/n. and, i am a fan of yours," she introduced herself, a teasing smile on her lips.

she had a dimple, like lando did, and out of everything that he had noticed in the few minutes, her dimple was his favourite.

"would you like to join me? i could order you something?" lando asked bashfully.

"just because i'm a college student doesn't mean i'm broke," she said dryly.

his eyes widened, and he rushed to correct himself, to let her know that he didn't mean it like that, and he just wanted to do something nice. but then, she laughed. a loud laugh and lando froze.

that laugh, her laugh, was more beautiful than the sound of any of his cars. her laugh was more beautiful than hearing his national anthem at the top step. her laugh was more beautiful than anything he had ever heard, and he wished he had recorded it because he wanted to listen to that laugh till he died.

"i'm just kidding. thank you, i'd appreciate it." she said, still smiling.

she was shorter than him, and almost looked fragile. lando hated himself for thinking like that, given his history of dealing with bullying, but her arms were thin and he worried. he worried for a girl he met a few minutes ago.

lando picked up her books, as she grabbed her bag and the bottle of water. he led her to the seat he had previously occupied. he gently kept her books on the table, and pulled out the chair for her, being a true gentleman.

"you don't have to worry about me being the bus stop girl. i won't lie on the internet," y/n said, and lando burst out in laughter. he liked her. he liked her dry humour.

"no, go ahead and lie, i'd be fine with it," he said, as he settled into the chair across from her.

"you're not worried that i'm some crazy fan who's going to go on twitter and tiktok and i don't know where else to post a made up story about you?" she asked, settling into the seat.

somehow, she looked smaller in it, and lando felt the need to protect her, to make her realise just how much space was available for her to occupy because he didn't like that she was shrinking herself.

"are you going to?" he retaliated.

y/n smirked, "i might,"

"then, i'd like to see how creative you can get."

she smiled, showing her dimple again, and lando thought for a moment if she would scream at him if he asked to take a picture of her dimple.

the woman from the counter placed his coffee and his scone on the table, and turned to y/n, asking if she needed anything. y/n ordered for a coffee, and apologised for not ordering at the cash counter.

the woman hushed her, as if it was an every day occurrence for the two women.

"do you come here often?" he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

she nodded, "every day. it's the cafe closest to my apartment, so i spend a lot of time here."

lando's head tilted in confusion, "how come i've never seen you before then?"

"maybe you weren't looking for me then," she was flirting. lando wasn't sure. but he hoped she was.

"maybe i wasn't ready for you before. the universe does work in mysterious ways, y'know,"

she leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eye, "oh, honey, you're never going to be ready for the storm i am,"

he laughed once again, and he liked that. the pressure of the world championship was catching up to him, despite his efforts to not let it affect him. he hadn't properly laughed like this in a while, but somehow, he was glad that he was laughing with her, a woman he met a half hour ago.

they kept talking, making each other laugh, falling into comfortable silences, asking questions just to get to know the other better. they didn't speak much about lando's job, or why she was breathing so heavily when he had first approached her. the two recognised that those were uncomfortable topics.

lando knew that y/n, as a fan, would have her own opinions, and while he didn't know what she thought of his driving or his team or his teammate or anyone on the grid, he also knew that he didn't want to hear it. the world had an opinion on everything but they didn't know the truth, and lando refused to get influenced by the opinions of someone who had no idea what happened behind cameras.

y/n had also subtly changed topics any time it came close to her breathing, or her general exhaustion. lando desperately wanted to know, but he didn't want to overstep, especially because this was a friendship he wanted to keep in his life.

lando had stayed at the cafe way longer than he was supposed to, but he didn't really mind, and he knew that max would understand. when y/n began packing up, ready to leave, he shyly asked for her number, and asked if he would see her again.

"you're a lot more confident on social media than you are in real life," she mused, a soft smile on her lips letting him know that she wasn't judging, but instead, just making an observation.

"i know what people want me to be online. it doesn't always mean that's who i am,"

"wise words, mister norris,"

lando ducked his head, "thank you, miss y/l/n,"

she had given him her number, quickly calling her phone to make sure that she had it as well. just as she turned to leave, she hesitated for a second, and lando watched, not wanting to miss a second of her existence.

she was second guessing herself, he knew, but nothing could have prepared him for when she leaned up slightly, her hand on his arm, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, before turning away and walking out.

lando stood there frozen, a goofy smile on his face, feeling excited about seeing her again.

the two fell into an easy friendship. lando found out that y/n tended to sleep quite often, and because of that, she used every little energy she had in studying and maintaining her gpa. he found out that she was from india, and was attending university here on a scholarship. he found out that her favourite drink was hazelnut coffee, with a lot of whipped cream. she was a sucker for kinder, just like he was. he found out that she was bad at texting, often leaving him on delivered for hours, sometimes days, though she always apologised profusely and said that it was out of her control most of the time. lando also found out that he forgave her quite easily.

they spent most of their time at the cafe, sometimes working together in silence, sometimes she explained to him what she was studying with a passion he hadn't seen anywhere else. sometimes, they just talked about everything and nothing, and it became lando's favourite thing.

when it was time for lando to head to the mtc for work, to focus on the last three races, he had felt gutted. he wouldn't see her anymore, and he hadn't realised just how much of his mood had began depending on her. the day before he left, he walked her back to her apartment, refusing to let her walk alone in the dark.

outside of her apartment building, she pulled him in a hug, wrapping her arms around his waist. she had dropped her bag on the floor, just so she could hug him. lando immediately wrapped his arms around her neck, keeping her to him.

they didn't say anything, just breathed each other in. it wasn't goodbye, lando knew that, yet it felt like it. it felt like a goodbye, and lando was not ready to let her go just yet, no matter the reason.

as she began to pull away from him, he pressed a kiss to her hair, holding her for just another second, before he let her go.

"i'll see you soon, yeah?" he whispered.

she smiled, biting her lip. his gaze focused on her lip, and he desperately wanted to kiss her, but he couldn't. he shouldn't.

"win for me, will you?" she said softly.

he smiled, "as long as you keep letting me know you're alive and well,"

her smile faltered, and lando immediately wondered what he said, what was going on in her brain.

she smiled brightly again, and nodded. she pressed a kiss to his cheek, like she did every time she went back home. and, like every time, he froze, smiling goofily.

lando watched as she picked up her bag and walked inside the building. he watched, half because she was mesmerising, and half because he wanted to make sure that she was safe.

when he was travelling, lando and y/n fell into a similar routine. since they weren't able to meet face to face, they were on facetime almost constantly. the only time they weren't on facetime was when either of them were sleeping, or lando was training or in a meeting. she had gotten better at texting as well, keeping him updated about everything and anything. she let him know when she'd be unavailable for their facetime calls, and lando understood.

lando felt deeply for her. he knew that his feelings for her were romantic. he hoped that she felt the same for him. but, the more rational part of him also knew that if he wanted to be with her for a long term, he'd have to be her friend first. he'd have to build that solid foundation with her first.

for y/n, he was willing to wait as long as she wanted.

of course, she never said or indicated anything regarding her feelings towards him. at the end of the day, lando wanted to be a part of her life in any way that she would want him. he'd never felt like this before, had never felt this insane need to be around someone, to have someone in his bubble all the time. he didn't understand this feeling very well, had never experienced something like this before.

he'd confided in max. he explained to his best friend every emotion and every thought that ran through him when he was with her, and when he was away from her. his best friend admitted to never seeing lando like this, but also said that he was happy to see his best friend so enamoured with someone.

max's advice had been to take it slow, and to be friends with her till she asked or indicated otherwise. when pietra and ria had agreed with him, lando knew for sure that that was the best course of action. he didn't want to overwhelm her. he didn't want to make her feel like he was expecting anything more than what she was willing to give. he'd hate himself if his actions drove her away.

so, he took it slow.

he sent her pictures from his day, and voice notes at the end of the day. he kept her on facetime, saying that he needs company as an excuse. as if he wasn't surrounded by his mechanics and engineers. he texted her before he got in the car, and he texted her after he got out. he sent her memes, and he flirted a little bit.

and, she did the same. she sent him pictures from her day, letting him know when she was at the cafe. sometimes, he'd recognise his coffee order and scone, and wondered if she missed him the way he missed her. she indulged in his excuse and stayed on facetime with him. she listened to all his voice notes, and responded to them. she texted him every time he was on track, giving him a live update of everything that was going on in her head. sometimes, she flirted back too. she didn't do it often, but she flirted back, and it always made lando smile.

after the season had ended, lando stayed in monaco as much as possible. he missed his family, and he missed his friends for sure. but, he needed to be in y/n's presence like he needed oxygen.

during his off months, y/n's family had come to visit her, and she couldn't stay out much. so, they changed their routine a little. every night, after dinner, lando would meet her at the entrance of her apartment building, and the two would take a walk, sometimes getting ice cream on the way, for an hour or two.

she always made him laugh. and, she laughed just as much. he still wanted to record that sound, and play it over and over and over, till he didn't remember anything but that sound. his feelings had grown stronger over time. she hadn't given any indication of wanting a romantic relationship with him, and he hadn't pushed. he kept his flirting to a minimum as well, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

during one of their walks, y/n had informed lando that her family were going on a trip somewhere, and that she wouldn't be able to talk to him much. he had understood, remembering the stories she'd told of her parents and how they often told her to stay away from her phone. lando planned his trip to his parents' place at around the same time, as well.

he was determined not to miss a single second he could have with her.

the trip she'd taken with her family was three weeks long. they kept up the same routine as race weekends. though, this time, it didn't include facetime calls. he sent her voice notes and pictures regularly, and she responded, though, often really late, and sounding more tired than ever. she shared pictures sometimes, informing him that most pictures were on her brother's phone because he had a better camera than she did.

nonetheless, their bond remained strong.

max called him whipped. carlos said something similar. but he knew that they knew just how important this woman was to him. they hadn't seen anything like it before, and he hadn't felt anything like this before.

despite his efforts of spending every possible second with her, lando had been an f1 driver. meaning, he had to be at the mtc often, especially to meet sponsors and work with his team before the pre-testing.

even though she had never asked or indicated anything, lando bought her gifts to make up for the time he lost with her. she would always laugh, but would accept the gift. in the beginning, she had put up a fight, telling him that it was too much and that he didn't need to. lando was stubborn, and eventually, she'd sighed and accepted it.

just like that, a year passed.

lando was there for her graduation, clapping when she went on stage and received her diploma. lando was there when she found her first job. he was there to drop her off and pick her up on her first day. he was there with ice cream every time she told him that she felt drained, and the two would watch a movie. he was there for every big and every small moment. as much as he could, at least.

she was there every time he came home after a race. she was there every time he was frustrated with the team, with himself, with the media. she was there every time they went to a seafood restaurant, and only ever ordered spring rolls. she was there at the cafe, his coffee and scone ready whenever he was running late. she was there when he was homesick. she was there when he'd be streaming, just sitting close to him. she was there for every quadrant shoot, giving him her ideas as well. she was there for every game night, every movie night, every little party he had. in her own way, she was there with him like no one else had ever been there.

it was so easy being friends with her, sometimes lando forgot that his crush had turned into him being in love with her. it was so easy being with her, that sometimes, lando forgot about his own feelings, only ever focused on her voice and her smile and her hands and everything about her.

she was weak some days, reminding him of the day they'd met, with her breathing so heavily. she would always tell him that it was her time of the month, and these were just some symptoms. lando had grown up with two sisters, but he had never seen anything like what y/n was going through. he had asked his sister if it was normal to be feeling like that during their cycles. his sister had reassured him that it was different for every woman, and as long as y/n said she was fine, she truly was fine.

but, it all came crashing down one day.

lando hadn't expected it. in fact, it happened during a race, and lando was unaware.

he'd had a good race, one that he was proud of. immediately after changing, lando had checked his phone, frowning when there were no messages from y/n. that had been odd, because y/n texted him during each race. she had been doing so consistently for the past year. to suddenly not have a single text from her, not even a good luck text, had worried him.

his flight was scheduled for back home the next morning. if she didn't pick up his call, lando was sure that he would jump on the next flight out and rush home just to check on her.

the ringtone was loud in his ear, even though the volume on his phone wasn't. his heart was beating erratically again, for a completely different reason as before. usually, he loved feeling his heartbeat everywhere, feeling the rush of it in his veins when he was in the car. now, though? he hated the feeling.

she picked up at the final ring. lando breathed out a sigh of relief.

"y/n? are you okay? you didn't text me during the race and i got worried," he said.

she paused for a second on the other side, and lando frowned.

"um, this is her friend. she's in the hospital, actually," the voice was low, but it seemed to echo in his ears.

hospital? what? why? what had happened?

"what?" he croaked out, his body working on autopilot as he stuffed his things in his bag.

"she was fine in the morning, but her condition got a little worse, and we had to get her to the hospital," her friend said.

"condition? what condition?" lando was freaking out.

"she didn't tell you?"

"no! she didn't! is she okay?"

"she'll be okay eventually. at least, that's what the doctor said."

lando asked for the hospital name, looking for flights at the same time.

as he left the paddock, zak and oscar stopped him, but lando didn't have time. he couldn't lose precious seconds.

"i'm really sorry, i have to go, i need to go," he didn't know what he was saying, or what he was doing. all he knew was that he needed to get to y/n as soon as possible.

"woah, woah, woah, lando," oscar said, grabbing lando's arms, holding him in place.

"what's wrong?" zak asked.

zak didn't know y/n, but oscar did. oscar knew her. oscar would understand. yes, oscar would help him.

eyes wide, lando said, "she's in the hospital. i have to go. i don't know what happened, osc, i have to go."

"okay, okay. give me your room key, i'll pack up your stuff and drop it off at your place tomorrow," oscar was calm. how was oscar calm?

"yes, yes, that's smart," lando immediately pulled out the room key card from his pocket, handing it to oscar.

"lando, deep breaths-"

"but, she's-"

"i know. but, you're not going to be of any help to her if you can't help yourself right now. deep breaths with me,"

lando copied oscar's breathing pattern, his hands holding onto oscar's arms. once the rushing blood in his ear subsided, lando nodded, gulping.

"she's going to be okay," oscar reassured him.

lando nodded, taking a step back, ready to turn and leave. just before he began running, he turned quickly, hugging oscar, thanking him. before oscar could hug back, lando was running.

the wait was excruciating. the wait in the taxi going to the airport. the wait at the airport for his flight. the wait in the flight. the wait in the taxi going to the hospital. it was eating him alive, and every single cell in his body was vibrating with fear.

in the midst of his panic, he had managed to text max and carlos, his two closest friends, letting them know of the situation. he knew that carlos was probably asleep by now, and would see the message in the morning, but max had responded immediately, instructing lando to let him know if he needed anything.

when he reached the hospital, he immediately ran to the front desk, asking for y/n. the nurse standing there almost looked afraid of him. his eyes were red, his hair unruly. he hadn't slept at all after the race, and hadn't eaten anything either. he felt weak, but he needed to see y/n. he needed to see his y/n.

before the nurse could say anything, a voice called his name. turning, he saw y/n's friend, the one who had answered her phone. rushing towards her, he let out his frenzy list of questions.

"is she okay? what happened? when did it happen? what did the doctor say?"

her friend didn't say anything, just quietly led him to her room. the wait to her room was excruciating as well, somehow worse than when he was on the flight.

standing outside her room, her friend turned to him and said, "it isn't my story to tell. it's hers. but, know this, lando, being with her, as a friend or boyfriend or whatever, it's with a ticking time bomb. one day, she is going to leave us. if you go in that room, know that you will have to prepare yourself for when the time runs out and it all explodes."

he heard her words. he registered them. maybe he should walk away. save himself the pain that would come with her inevitably leaving. he could. very easily, in fact. she wasn't awake. she didn't know he was here. he could ask her friend to not mention anything about him, and he could turn around and leave. he could.

but he didn't. why didn't he? why couldn't he? he knew he loved her the first day he met her. he knew he wanted to be in her life for as long as she wanted. if she was going to inevitably leave, he'd rather hold her hand till it went slack and cold. if she was going to inevitably leave, he'd rather love her, just so she went with a smile.

his hand was on the doorknob, and he turned it, pushing the door open.

she had tubes attached to her, and the steady beating of her heart was heard through the beeping. she looked small and frail. she looked like she would turn to dust if he touched her. her skin was pale, and her bones were so clearly visible. oh, his sweet y/n.

dropping his bag at the side, he sat on the chair beside her bed, slowly, carefully, picking up her hand, holding it, running his fingers over and over them, making sure she was real.

tears streamed down his face. why hadn't he noticed any of it before? why hadn't he pushed her for information when she changed the subject? he knew something hadn't been right, but he was stupid enough to ignore it. how could he have been so stupid?

lando's head rested on the bed beside their joined hands, sobs wracking his body. he had felt pain before. he had felt pain when his grandmother passed. he had felt pain when he read the hate comments about him. he had felt pain then. this pain was something he hadn't felt before, something that was completely incomparable.

he must've fallen asleep right there, the exhaustion of the race and the travel, the stress of all of it combined draining him physically and mentally. he woke up with a jerk, his neck aching. wiping the corner of his mouth, his eyes fell on the sleeping figure on the bed.

except she wasn't sleeping anymore.

"y/n!" he exclaimed, standing over her and checking every single part of her that he could see, as if the condition she had was external.

"i'm sorry i didn't watch the race. how'd you do?" she whispered, smiling gently.

lando huffed out a laugh, "as if i care about the race anymore," leaning forward, he pressed a kiss against her forehead.

"you scared me, lovie," he whispered, his forehead resting against hers.

"told you i was a storm you weren't ready for," she smiled, and god, lando wanted to kiss her. he wanted to kiss her so desperately.

"oh, you are a storm, alright, but i'm more than ready for you," he said, pulling back and settling on the uncomfortable chair again.

he stared at her for a few seconds, a little bit of his tension falling away. "why didn't you tell me?"

she hesitated, her mouth opening and closing as she attempted to explain to him, "i wanted to. at first i couldn't figure out how or when to tell you, and then i started worrying that if i did tell you, you'd leave. i didn't want you to leave,"

her voice was small, as if she was afraid that he would hear her, that he would confirm her fear. silly, silly girl.

he clasped her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her fingertips and he said, "y/n, i am crazy in love with you. have been from the day i met you. absolutely nothing will make me want to leave you,"

she stared at him, still chewing on her lip slightly, and then whispered, "what if i told you i had a dick?"

his brain froze for a second, but she smiled, and he laughed, and in his heart, everything was right again, "then, i'll figure out how sex works on the go,"

she laughed, and he smiled, and in his heart, the warmth spread again.

"do you really love me?" she asked, almost sounding broken.

"desperately," he said, without hesitation.

"you won't leave?"

"i'd rather drive with extremely old tyres on a wet track with no fireproofs than leave,"

she smacked his hand, "don't say that!"

"it's the truth,"

it was silent for a second.

"i love you too, by the way. i forgot to say that,"

lando laughed, "more than a friend?"

"way more than a friend,"

"y/n?"

"lando?"

"what condition do you have?" he was afraid of the answer. granted, he didn't know much about diseases and such. his knowledge of physical anatomy only went as far as understanding the risks of being an f1 driver and being in an f1 car.

"it's something complicated. it's a lifelong thing, and there's no particular cure for it. we found out in its early stages, which is why we started treatment early as well. the doctors told me that i'd have maybe twenty or thirty years more, but that death was inevitable. "

"oh,"

"yeah. my doctor in india recommended a specialist doctor here, and since my parents were already struggling a little bit with the costs, i got a scholarship, so that it was one less thing for them to worry about. i've made peace with the fact that i am going to die one day, lando. i know that it's going to happen, and i am ready for it."

"what if-"

"don't try and find a better doctor or something, lando. it's not going to work. whatever this is, it makes me physically weak and tired so easily. the walk from my apartment to the cafe sometimes tires me out so much. i can't breathe properly in it, i pass out way too often, i can't hold in any sort of food sometimes. my lungs hurt, and my arms and legs go numb, and it's a lot of things. and it's only going to result in one thing."

lando stayed silent. he didn't know what to say, and after everything that had happened in the past weekend, and now, his brain was taking time to process it.

"is that why you didn't reply to me for days sometimes? 'cause you were in the hospital?"

"mhmm,"

he tried not to cry. he really did. all he could think about was every time that he had assumed she was busy, or he had believed her excuses, she was all alone in a hospital with no one to take care of her, no one to protect her from this godforsaken condition. "why didn't you tell me? i could've been here with you? were you scared? did you have someone to hold your hand?"

"oh, lan," she cupped his cheek, as he sobbed.

"i'm gonna be here now. i'm gonna be with you now all the time. whatever happens, i'll be here, and i'll help you wherever you need me to,"

"you have a job, lando," she said softly.

"fuck that. i don't care about that anymore. i just care about you. don't leave me, please," lando was on his knees, holding onto her hand, sobbing as everything inside him broke.

"sang pyaar rahe mein rahun na rahu," she whispered.

"i don't know what that means, lovie," he sniffed, calming himself down, doing what oscar had done not twenty four hours ago.

"when i die-"

"y/n-"

"it's the truth, lando. when i die, look it up. okay?"

he nodded, promising her that he would.

things changed after that. of course it did.

lando spent every second possible with y/n, making sure that she was okay, and following the instructions she'd gotten from the doctor to rest more. he was there whenever she needed him, and now that she was more truthful about what was happening with her, lando realised just how much she had been hiding from him in the first place.

of course, lando had to go to the mtc for work often and the races, because it was his job at the end of the day, but he always made sure that she had someone with her, and had phone numbers of oscar, carlos, max f and max v, will and jon. any person who could easily get a hold of him when he was away.

he worried, and he knew she knew he worried. but she did love him for it. she told him so repeatedly. they hadn't kissed, even when weeks had passed from her last hospital visit where lando really found out about her condition. they hadn't kissed, and hell, they hadn't even talked about dating or anything of that sort.

lando supposed that they should, at least once. to clear out any misunderstandings, or to just be on the same page. but, they did have a mutual understanding that despite not talking about the change in their dynamic, they were together. like, together-together.

they still went on walks after dinner. it was the little bit of exercise that she got, and lando was determined to make sure that she was moving. the easiness between them was still present, except there was an added element of brushing fingers, casual touching, walking a step closer than normal. and then, it changed to holding hands when walking, which sometimes became lando's arm across her shoulder, tucking her to him, and sometimes it became her hand tucked in the inside of his elbow.

lando knew that people watched, that there were cameras everywhere, but with her, it was the least of his worries. it was during one of their walks when he kissed her for the first time.

he hadn't planned on doing it. she had ice cream stuck to her lip, and lando wanted. whether he wanted the ice cream or just her, he refused to acknowledge. he had kissed her, and she had kissed him back, and they had been unable to wipe their smiles off their faces.

it felt like kissing once took away any tension between the two, because then, they were kissing all the time. little pecks of hi, i love you. make out sessions in his car or her apartment, or even the little alley beside her apartment building. forehead kisses when she felt particularly weak, or when she had to be in the hospital. love bites of when they got carried away, and then lando took pictures (but no one else had to know that).

they were happy. they deserved that happiness.

but the dark cloud was still looming over their heads, and as much as lando tried to avoid it, as much as he tried to forget about it, every trip to the hospital had reminded him that there was only one way their story was going to end and he needed to prepare himself for it.

every time, his girl saw him struggling. she knew. and every time, she only ever told him, "sang pyaar rahe mein rahun na rahu,"

he still didn't know what it meant. he had wanted to look it up, but he also remembered his promise to her. sometimes, late at night, when she would be asleep, curled up next to him, he would repeat the words over and over again in his head.

a year after they'd started dating, y/n made her official debut as his girlfriend at the monaco grand prix. she wasn't allowed to travel a lot, especially by air. the only few times that she travelled was when her parents had taken her to another doctor halfway across the world back when lando and her were still friends, or for when she visited india, which was also rare.

of course, his friends in the paddock had met her before. but, a lot of people were going to see her in person for the first time after only listening to lando talk about her non-stop.

she was immediately loved by everyone she met, and lando felt pride running through him. he was also a little aroused. the love of his life fit so well with his work life, it made him love her more.

before he got in the car, she pressed a kiss to his helmet and whispered the words again, "sang pyaar rahe mein rahun na rahu,"

the words sounded beautiful, and a part of lando hated that it was associated with something so haunting.

when he won the race, he immediately ran to her, picking her up, as she celebrated with the rest of the team as well. his helmet wasn't even off, before he was hugging her and begging her to move in with him.

she had agreed, because of course, she had.

so, they moved in soon after the race. lando didn't let her do much of anything, insisting that him and the boys had it under control. the boys being max f, carlos, ginge, niran, max v, oscar, and george. how that group of friends came together? lando didn't know. all he knew was that he texted on his chat groups about needing help getting her all moved in, and people showed up at her apartment with coffee and food in their hand.

soon after she was properly moved in, the couple had to christen their home, of course. lando had loved every giggle, every moan, every whimper she had given him. he had savoured every one of them, because as happy as he was, the fear was still rooted in him that it might be the last time he would ever hear it.

there were some days when her health was a lot worse. some days when lando thought that she was right at doorstep of death. she always came back to him, and for that he was eternally grateful. she would make some silly comment and laugh and joke with him, as if they weren't in a hospital room and she didn't have multiple tubes attached to her.

he indulged in her coping mechanism. lando understood the need to add humour to serious situations. he knew that while she was comfortable with the idea that she was going to die soon, she was still scared. she hadn't spoken to him about it explicitly, maybe to spare his feelings. but he noticed, with the way she was slowly making plans for the future for him without her. he noticed, with the way she began speaking about other women, women who would come after her.

he hated it. hated that she was still thinking about how he would live after her, when honestly, he didn't think he would be living after her. he would just be surviving, and he would just be breathing for the sake of it.

they did fight sometimes. mostly on the days when she was feeling more insecure about herself. those were usually the days she would cry, sitting in the corner of a room, hiding away from him. but he found her, he always did.

in fact, it was during one of those fights when lando asked her to marry him.

"maybe we shouldn't be doing this,"

"do what, lovie?" he was patient, and in the back of his mind, he knew what she was talking about, but he refused to acknowledge it unless she came out and said it herself.

"this. us."

"and why is that?" his lovie was a logical person, he knew that. between the two of them, he was more emotional than she was. it was during times like these, when her logic seemed to be on vacation, and her emotions sat at the control centre in her brain full time that lando began logical.

"lando, i'm going to die!"

"i'm aware." his responses were pissing her off, he knew. it was deliberate, though. he'd rather she felt anger than sadness.

"lando!" she yelled at him.

sighing, lando faced her, crossing his arms across his chest, his ankles crossed as well.

"we've been over this, y/n, i'm not leaving." he said firmly.

"you should! save yourself! for fuck's sake, why are you with a dying person?"

"don't say that."

"don't say what? that i'm dying? newsflash, lando, i am dying! i'm playing pretend with you, i'm pretending that i'm not going to die, just like you do-"

"i don't pretend. i know you're going to-"

"it doesn't seem like it!"

"then, what do you want me to do? do you want me to scream and cry and only ever think about you dying? y/n, i'm constantly worried about you-"

"i don't want you to be-"

"yeah, well, that's not in your hands, now is it? i love you. i chose to love you before i knew about your condition, i chose to love you even after you told me about it. i am choosing you every second of every day because i fucking love you. and if you can't see that, then i can't help you!" they were both screaming now.

"then, stop choosing me!"

he froze.

she continued, "stop choosing me. live your life. you're 30 for god's sake, you spent half of your twenties taking care of me. it's enough. go out and party. meet women who are healthy and don't need breaks in between of sex! be with someone who can come to all of your races instead of just one! be with someone normal!"

"stop telling me to go out and live my life, for god's sake! i am living my life! why can't you see that? i am living my life, right here, with you, because this is how i want to live it! i don't want someone healthy or whatever, i want you! why can't you understand that?"

"you're wasting time-"

"i'm spending my time perfectly. i get to decide that. i get to decide what's a waste of time and what's not. just because you think i'm wasting my time being with you does not mean that it's true. it does not mean that i think the same as you."

"lando, i don't want you to regret ruining your twenties or your thirties for me! i'm replaceable! i'm going to die, and you will find someone else, someone better, and you're going to regret me!"

he took big steps, covering the distance between them. he grabbed her jaw with one hand, his other arm going around her waist.

"the only thing i'm regretting right now is making you feel like any part of me would ever think of replacing you. y/n y/l/n, get this drilled into your fucking head. i am going to marry you. i am going to marry you and i am going to give you everything you could ever want, material and otherwise. i love you. i. love. you. there's nothing i'm wasting or regretting. hell, i have the ring in the sock drawer right now. was gonna do it on our anniversary. not anymore."

she was crying. god, he hated when she cried.

"i'm going to put that ring on your finger right now, and then i'm going to remind just how much i love you any way you want. i am not leaving. i never wanted to, i never will. do you understand?"

she nodded, as much as she could with his hand on her jaw, keeping her in place, "i understand."

"good." lando kissed her hard, desperate for her.

before the kiss could turn into something else, lando turned and quickly walked to their bedroom, and then the walk in closet. pulling open the sock drawer, lando pulled out the ring box, and returned to where she was still standing.

dropping to his knee, he opened the ring box and presented it to her, "i don't care how long we have. i just know that i have now with you, and i want every nows that you're willing to give me. marry me, lovie?"

she was crying, and lando hoped that it was tears of joy.

"yes, i'll marry you," she whispered. lando slid the ring onto her finger, kissing the back of her hand.

"thank you," he said.

she laughed, still crying, "did you just thank me for saying yes?"

"hey, you were a fan of me before we met, you know i'm a pain in the ass when it comes to relationships. you agreeing to marry me just proves that someone went back in time, moved a chair somewhere,"

she laughed again, and lando wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face in her neck.

"i love you so much, lovie. i hate that you can't see it. i love you so so much," he whispered.

"i'm sorry i keep pushing you to leave me. i'm sorry i keep doing that. i love you so much too," she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close to her.

pulling back a little, lando kissed her. and again, and again, and again. their plan to immediately text all their friends and families had to wait until the next morning. they got a little busy, they're a young couple, people understand.

things changed after that. she changed after that. in a good way. she was happier, and had more energy.

lando loved seeing her like that. she had almost immediately began wedding planning, sitting with both families, asking his opinions on things.

she wanted to do an indian wedding, and so they decided to do the "western" wedding, as she called it, before, and during one of the breaks, they would do the indian one as well, since that required more time.

she went ring shopping for him, went flower shopping, pulled him along for cake tasting, talked his ear off about invitations and venues, and just about everything. and lando loved it. he listened intently, he responded quickly, he gave his opinions, smiling when she said no and continued to plan the way she wanted.

it was during one of her family's visit to monaco that his future mother in law had confessed to him, "she always wanted to get married. we didn't know if she would ever have that opportunity. thank you for loving our daughter, lando,"

if lando cried while he hugged her, that was between him and his future mother in law.

the wedding date was in three months, and the closer the date got, the more excited, and healthier she got. three months had been the longest that she had stayed out of hospital. lando was thanking every deity in the universe for taking care of her.

the invitations had gone out, she had a bachelorette party, he had a bachelor party, their parents spent more and more time together, the love of his life was happy. everything was falling into place. slowly, but surely.

a week before the wedding, everything was set. the table chart was perfect, the photographers and videographers were set. lando planned to announce that he was married with a landolog. she had her dress, he had his tuxedo. she was going to stay over at her friend's place the night before the wedding. everything was perfect.

maybe lando said that too soon.

two days before the wedding is when it all went down.

the day had started normal. the couple woke up in bed, cuddling. they also did a little more than cuddling, before getting ready for the day. they cooked breakfast together, chocolate chip pancakes, and danced to music playing from the bluetooth speaker.

it was when she stood up with the plates from the table that she began to feel dizzy.

"lovie? you okay?" lando asked, a hand on her back, concern all over his face.

"um, i'm just a little dizzy, i think," she said.

lando immediately got up from his place, taking the dishes from her hand, and settling them on the table again.

"babe, look at me," he instructed softly.

she did as he asked, but her head began spinning more, and she felt like she was going to throw up, and her body was hurting.

"hurts, everything hurts, lan,"

he'd done this hundreds of time in the past four years. he knew the process, he knew who to call, what to do, everything. but still, panic flooded through him. a bad, bad feeling settled in his gut, and he knew something was going to be horribly wrong.

sitting her down, lando ran to their bedroom, throwing a tshirt on, picking up the emergency hospital bag, and grabbed his car keys. going back, he gently picked her up. she was crying now, mumbling about how it was all hurting too much, and she didn't know how to stop it.

he drove way over the speed limit. whatever ticket he would get, he was fine with it. he didn't care at that moment. on his way, he called up his mom, letting her know that he was taking y/n to the hospital, and asked her to let her family know, and to let max and carlos know.

they immediately admitted her when he reached the hospital. they told him that she was in critical condition and that he wouldn't be allowed to see her. he begged, argued with them that he was her fiance, that they had to let him see her. the doctors refused, and lando ended up sitting in the waiting room, leg bouncing, his head in his hand, trying not to cry, not to lose hope.

their families had arrived quickly, along with max and carlos. they asked him what the doctor said, he repeated the message like a robot.

his mother sat on one side, and he immediately leaned his head on her shoulder. she was saying something. they were all saying something. but, he couldn't hear them. he couldn't hear them anything other than the blood rushing, other than his pounding heart.

it was after hours when the doctor finally came back, calling out her name. their big group stood up all at once, desperate to know whether their daughter, their sister, their friend, his fiance was okay or not.

before the doctor could say a word, lando knew. lando knew what had happened, lando knew. the grim face, the head shake. he said something, something like, "i'm sorry, we couldn't save her. her condition got way worse, and we just couldn't control it."

the doctor was saying words. her mother was wailing, her father and her brother trying to console her. someone ran out, her friend maybe. lando didn't know for sure. the doctor kept apologising.

he fell to the floor, his heart hurting, his head hurting. he was crying. maybe. he wasn't sure. he didn't know. maybe he was crying. maybe he was sobbing. maybe he was saying something. maybe maybe maybe. all he knew that max had his arms around him, and all he knew was that his father was saying something in his ear. carlos' hands were on his shoulders. they were all saying something, but lando didn't know. he didn't care.

she was gone. the love of his life was really gone. she had left him, just like she had told him that she would. she was gone, and he would never see her again, and he would never hold her again. he would never get to listen to her talk or laugh. he would never get to tease her, and he would never get to be with her again.

the doctor allowed them to see her. they went in groups. her family went in first, and then his. her friends then went, and then max and carlos. he went in last. why? he didn't know. probably because he knew that if he saw her, it would be too real for him.

and he was right.

seeing her in the hospital bed, with no tubes attached, he broke down again. he fell into the seat beside her bed, gripping her hand, just like he had the first time he found out about her condition.

"don't leave me, lovie. please. come back to me. come back home. don't leave me, im begging you, please, y/n, please, please, come back home." he cried.

he wanted her to open her eyes. he wanted her to wake up and tell him that she was fine. he wanted her to hug him and let him know that everything was going to be okay. he wanted her, he wanted her, he wanted her.

lando didn't know how long he sat there, numb and crying, staring at the love of his life's face. the face that would never cheer for him again, the face that would never let him know what she was thinking. the face that he wouldn't see at the end of the alter anymore.

eventually, someone came in, and took him away. he didn't know who. they told him that her parents were discussing the funeral and making plans. they told him that her parents were going to do it according to their rituals, and lando had the option to participate in it.

nothing made sense to him.

their wedding day, the day that she had worked so hard for it to be perfect and to be everything the couple ever dreamed it would be, became the day of her funeral.

the happiest day of his life became the worst day.

they went ahead with the indian rituals. her body was dressed in white, along with everyone present there. her body was kept on logs, and she was covered with it too.

there was an indian priest, reciting something. lando didn't hear. he stood alone towards the front, staring blankly at where her body lay. her brother was holding a log, with the top of it covered in a cloth and was on fire.

the priest said something, and her brother went around, lighting the log bed on fire. when he had done it from all sides, he kept the log on top, slowly watching as it all burned.

as she burned.

lando wanted to jump in the fire. he wanted to jump in the fire and go with her, wherever she was going. he wanted to jump in the fire and die with her, because he couldn't live in a world where she wasn't living.

a hand was on his shoulder, and lando heard her father, "thank you for loving my daughter, lando. thank you for making her happy."

"she wanted to get married. i couldn't give her that." he said, almost monotonously.

her father chuckled sadly, "i remember talking to her the day she moved in with you. said that the two of you were like an old married couple. reminded her of her grandparents and how in love they were,"

lando smiled sadly.

"don't lose touch, son. you are still family. we'd hate to lose our son-in-law too,"

lando cried silently. he didn't know how to stop.

"this was the ring she was going to give you today." her father said, opening his palm to present a thick silver ring with small diamonds all around. it was a simple ring. it was his style too.

lando hesitantly picked up the ring, looking at it. there was an engraving on the inside, and lando realised that the words were written in hindi.

"can i ask you something?"

"sure, son,"

"what does the inside say?"

her father took the ring and checked, before saying, "sang pyaar rahe mein rahun na rahu,"

lando recognised those words.

"she said it to me a lot. before every race, every time she ended up in the hospital, any time that i was away from her, she said it to me. never told me what it meant. she just told me to look it up after she was gone." lando whispered.

"sang pyaar rahe mein rahun na rahu. it means that my love will stay with you, regardless of whether i'm there or not."

the words echoed in his mind. they were true. her love would stay with him till his last breath, whether she would or not.

he grieved all the time after that.

how could he not?

he had to continue to train, to race, even when he didn't feel like getting out of bed. he had to continue to fight in a championship, even when he didn't care about it.

his team, team principal, zak, oscar, almost every driver on the grid who he had been racing with for years, were worried about him. how could they not be.

lando barely smiled. barely spoke anymore. he trained, raced, went back home. there was no light in him anymore, no spark.

of course, the media, the other team principals weren't aware of the major shift in lando's life. they used his grief as a weapon against him. said the same things they had said the year he won for the first time. said the same things, that he was mentally weak, and whatnot.

lando didn't care. he didn't care about anything anymore. he didn't care about his helmets, or about streaming, or even about quadrant. he didn't care about racing anymore.

he'd heard whispers amongst his team that they were worried he would do something hasty on track and severely injure himself. he heard the questions from the media to oscar and andrea and zak about replacing lando, now that he just wasn't good enough and was past his prime.

it was funny they said that, because he was still winning races. he was still winning races or getting on podium. he just wasn't happy. he wasn't happy or satisfied, because every time he looked at the crowd, he looked for her face and she wasn't there.

the fans, the media, they all speculated about the wedding ring on his finger. they all questioned and made fun of the fact that he was so depressed after getting married, he had clearly made a mistake. they laughed, and their laughter was cruel. but lando hadn't said anything. he didn't know why. he just couldn't.

it was when max had moved back in with lando and was streaming one day that the world found out about the bitter truth. it was max who had finally revealed to the world, months after, that lando needed someone to take care of him, because he was grieving. he was grieving the loss of the woman he loved so much.

lando had thanked max the next day. thanked him for telling the world what he couldn't because he didn't want it to be true. he had cried that day, thanking max through his tears for taking the initiative and doing what he couldn't.

max had only repeated the words she said, "her love will stay with you regardless of whether she's here or not,"

lando knew that. he believed that.

her love would stay with him till he died, regardless of where she was here or not.

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

lemme know if y'all liked this! thank you for reading it! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @anamiad00msday

#f1 #formula 1 #lando norris #formula one #ln4 #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando x y/n #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris angst #lando x you #ln x reader

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kayakiki · 1 month ago

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RDR CHARACTERS IN WATER PARK | Headcanons

Characters: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, Sean McGuire, Sadie Adler, Lenny Summers, Bill Williamson, Micah Bell, Jack Marston

Warning(s): swearing, mentions of violence (nothing serious)

Arthur Morgan

Hates the idea of going but somehow gets dragged along.

Sits under an umbrella, fully clothed, eating overpriced hot dogs and muttering about "this whole thing bein’ a scam."

Secretly enjoys it but refuses to admit it.

Ends up having to save Jack (and his father) from the deep pool at least once.

Eventually gives in and goes down one big slide—yells the whole way but claims it was "fine."

John Marston

Acts like he's too good for waterparks but gets excited like a kid when he sees the slides.

Tries to show off by diving but bellyflops hard.

Constantly gets water in his eyes and rubs them dramatically while cursing.

Gets stuck in a tube slide and has to awkwardly crawl out.

Arthur warns him not to do something stupid—he does it anyway and regrets it immediately.

Dutch van der Linde

Insists on wearing a fancy robe and sunglasses, claiming he has a "plan" to maximize fun.

Tries to convince the lifeguards that VIP and welness section should be free for a "man of his stature."

Takes over the hot tub like it's his personal throne

Gets mad when someone splashes him and storms off to sunbathe dramatically.

Sadie Adler

First in line for the biggest, most dangerous slides.

Races kids up the stairs to get there first.

Does cannonballs into the pool and soaks everyone.

Bullies John into going on a slide he’s scared of, then laughs at his screams.

Starts an all-out water gun war and shows no mercy.

Javier Escuella

Casually floats in the lazy river, looking effortlessly cool.

Brings a guitar and tries to serenade women by the pool.

Somehow convinces the staff to let him drink margaritas in the hot tub.

Calls everyone else "ridiculous" while wearing stylish swim trunks and designer sunglasses.

Ends up sunbathing for way too long and gets horribly sunburned.

Charles Smith

Comes for the relaxation, stays because someone has to make sure nobody dies.

Ends up watching Jack, making sure he doesn't drown or get kidnapped by Dutch’s "fun plans."

Enjoys the sauna and hot tub but never stays in one place long because there’s always some chaos happening.

The only person who properly re-applies sunscreen and avoids sunburn.

Leaves early because "this place is too loud."

Bill Williamson

Refuses to wear sunscreen, turns bright red within an hour.

Complains that the water is "too cold" but eventually jumps in and splashes everyone like an overgrown toddler.

Somehow gets banned from the wave pool for roughhousing.

Gets stuck in an inner tube and yells at Javier to help him.

Ends up passed out in a deck chair, snoring loudly with a beer in hand.

Micah Bell

Pushes people into the pool when they least expect it.

Tries to start fights with lifeguards for no reason.

Steals someone’s sandals and throws them into the water for no reason.

Cuts in line at the slides and pretends he didn’t hear people yelling at him.

Somehow convinces Dutch to start a ridiculous waterpark heist plan that obviously fails.

Hosea Matthews

Brings a nice straw hat, sunglasses, and a book to actually relax.

Laughs at everyone else making fools of themselves.

Ends up helping Charles babysit because he’s the only responsible one.

Tries the wave pool once, gets tossed around mercilessly, and decides never again.

Buys a ridiculous amount of gifts and suveniers for Jack

Jack Marston

Runs everywhere even when the lifeguards tell him to stop.

Gets lost at least three times.

Wants to go on every ride but then chickens out halfway up the stairs.

Eats way too much ice cream and ends up with a stomachache.

Arthur begrudgingly carries him around at some point.

Sean MacGuire

Yells "WATER’S GRAND, LADS!" before doing the worst cannonball imaginable.

Purposely bellyflops off the diving board just to make everyone laugh.

Challenges people to races down the slides, then cheats by shoving them aside.

Tries to hit on lifeguards but gets ignored (or threatened with removal).

Steals Bill’s sunscreen just to watch him burn.

Somehow gets himself and Micah kicked out of the wave pool within an hour.

Lenny Summers

The only one who actually enjoys the waterpark like a normal person.

Loves the slides, the lazy river, the wave pool—he’s doing it all.

Races Sadie up the slide stairs and actually beats her once.

Gets caught in Sean’s nonsense at least three times but somehow never gets in trouble for it.

Ends up convincing Arthur to go on at least one slide and cheers when he actually does it.

Ends the day relaxed, slightly sunburned, and ready to come back sometimes

______________________________________________________________

Short story

It started as Dutch’s brilliant idea.

"Now, boys and girls" he said, standing at the entrance of the water park, adjusting his sunglasses like he owned the place. "We work hard. We struggle. But today, we relax. Today, we reclaim what is rightfully ours—a good time."

Arthur groaned. "Dutch, it’s a damn waterpark, not a heist."

"Everythin’ in life’s a heist, Arthur."

That was the last thing Dutch said before storming off toward the entrance, attempting to negotiate a "gang discount" with the cashier.

John insisted he wasn’t scared of the big slides. "I got this," he bragged, climbing the stairs to The Devil’s Drop, a near-vertical water slide.

Sadie smirked. "Go on then, tough guy."

John sat at the edge, gripping the rails. "Ain’t nothin’ to it."

"Sir, you need to let go," the lifeguard said.

John inhaled deeply. Released his grip.

And then—absolute regret.

His scream could be heard through the entire park. He hit the water so hard he disappeared for a second. When he finally surfaced, sputtering, Sean and Lenny were doubled over laughing.

Sadie clapped. "Good job, John! You looked real brave up there!"

"Shut up, Adler" John muttered, dragging himself out of the pool.

Sean, fueled by pure adrenaline and zero caution, challenged everyone to a race down the tube slides. "Bet none o’ ye can beat me!"

He shoved past Javier, ignored Bill’s warnings about "doin’ somethin’ stupid," and leaped into the slide face-first.

The problem?

Sean didn’t fit properly.

He got stuck halfway down.

For a full minute, the only sound coming from the slide was distant Irish swearing.

Then—he came flying out at the speed of death, tumbling into the pool like a ragdoll.

Javier, sipping a margarita, nodded. "That was tragic, amigo."

Bill just sighed. "I told him."

Arthur had zero intention of getting in the water. He sat under an umbrella, eating his third overpriced hot dog, muttering about how the park was a scam.

Then, Jack tugged at his sleeve.

"Arthur, will you go on the lazy river with me?"

Arthur sighed. "Fine. But only the lazy river."

A few minutes later, Arthur was floating in an inner tube, arms crossed, looking as grumpy as humanly possible.

"See?" Jack grinned. "It’s nice, huh?"

Arthur grunted. Then—SPLOOSH.

A tidal wave crashed over him.

"SEAN, YOU BASTA—"

Sean cackled as he sprinted off, having deliberately capsized Arthur with a cannonball.

Arthur climbed out of the water, dripping, murderous. "You’re dead."

Meanwhile, Dutch had fully taken over the VIP hot tub.

"This," he sighed, lounging with his sunglasses on, "is freedom, gentlemen."

The other guests in the hot tub, who had paid for access, looked deeply uncomfortable.

"Sir," a staff member said, "you’re not supposed to be here."

Dutch sat up. "Son, I am supposed to be here. See, I had a vision—"

"Sir, get out."

"...I have a plan."

"Sir."

Dutch sighed dramatically and reluctantly left, but not before whispering to Hosea, "This place is a prison."

Unlike the rest of the gang, who were already embarrassing themselves, Javier made himself comfortable by the main pool, ordering a margarita from the bar.

"Now this" he sighed, stretching out on a lounge chair, "is how you enjoy life."

It was all going well—until Sean showed up.

"Oi, Javier!" Sean slammed himself into the chair next to him, dripping wet. "Ye sittin’ ‘round flirtin’ with yerself, or ye gonna actually get in the water?"

Javier didn’t even look at him. "Some of us know how to enjoy a vacation properly."

Sean snorted. "Oh aye? Is that why you’re starin’ at that lass over there?"

Javier was indeed watching a beautiful woman lounging by the pool, flipping through a book. She looked up, meeting his gaze with a small smile.

Javier smirked. "I have charm, Sean. Something you wouldn’t understand."

Sean rolled his eyes. "Aye, well, go on then, Casanova. Let’s see it in action."

Javier pushed his sunglasses up and got to his feet, adjusting his shirt. He strolled over to the woman with all the confidence of a man who had never been rejected in his life.

Unfortunately, Bill chose this exact moment to slip on a puddle and fall directly into Javier, sending him crashing into the pool.

Javier surfaced, coughing, while Sean and Lenny absolutely lost it on the sidelines.

"Dios mío, Bill!" Javier wiped water from his face, glaring up at him.

Bill, still lying on the wet pavement, groaned. "Ain’t my fault!"

The woman Javier had been eyeing burst out laughing, trying to hide her face with the book she is reading.

Javier just sighed, running a hand through his soaked hair.

Sean patted his shoulder. "Better luck next time, lover boy."

Javier just splashed him in the face.

Micah, unsurprisingly, got banned immediately.

Within minutes of entering the water park, he had: - Started a splash war with random strangers - Attempted to ride Bill like a human floatie - Thrown a kid’s sandal into the lazy river

"Aw, c’mon, I was just havin’ fun," Micah complained as two lifeguards dragged him out.

"Sir, this is not the Wild West!"

"It damn well could be!"

He was banned. For life. (Much to everyone's relief)

While everyone else was causing mayhem, Lenny was actually having fun like a normal person.

He went on every ride. He actually listened to the rules. He even convinced Arthur to go down one slide.

Arthur screamed the entire way.

When Lenny saw Dutch dramatically sulking after being kicked out of the hot tub, he just sighed. "Why can’t we just have one normal day?"

By the time the park was closing, everyone was sunburned, exhausted, and soaked.

Bill was lobster-red. Sean was limping. John was still fuming over his failed dive.

Dutch sighed, arms crossed. "I had bigger dreams for today."

Arthur rubbed his temples. "Dutch, we got banned from the wave pool, lost Jack for twenty minutes, and nearly drowned Sean. What more did you want?"

Dutch shook his head. "A waterpark of our own."

Arthur groaned. "We’re leaving."

And so, the Van der Linde gang left the water park —wet, sunburned, and banned from at least two attractions.

Would they return? Probably not.

Would Sean try to sneak back in?

Absolutely.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #rdr2 #rdr #john marston #arthur morgan #javier escuella #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #charles smith #sean macguire #micah bell #jack marston #sadie adler

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missmarveledsblog · 5 months ago

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Explode (Jake Seresin x Reader) 18+

Summary : When jake does a favor for his mama and his mama's friend by letting her daughter stay it turns out to be jakes personal hell and that can only last till well he explodes .

warning : protective and jealous jake , oral ( fem receiving ) face sitting , fingering , p in v , mutual pinning , idiot in love ( kinda i like making top gun men simps ) . it's smutty so 18+

It was a favor , a favor that turned into a year of his own personal hell . a call from his mom one day , he was tired as hell as she ramble about her friends daughter needing a place to stay since she was coming to san diego for college . a engineering student although wrong he picture to what showed up to his door the following week . his eyes nearly bulged out of his eyes at sight of most beautiful piece of sin that stood looking at piece of paper and back up at him . it was temporary , a short stay til it wasn’t til she was now living and splitting the bills and money for groceries . it was torture in the most amazing way and first his fellow dagger squad member tease and jeered him having her stay there til one night she walked into the hard deck with her friends eager to see what was big deal surrounding the place. First he pretend he didn’t see them even when his friends were talking about how hot they were or when natasha trace called them “ pigs” . it wasn’t til yale and his little buddies made it out their way to talk to the girls that when jake when to the bar pretending to get a drink only to call her name . then offering her and her friends to join them . then it seemed like every member of the dagger squad found a reason to come to his house even baby on board showed only to sit and talk with her for hours . over the two of years she began to be invited to more and more things from nights out to days on the beach and he didn’t know which killed him more . the little dresses or the bikinis that made his mouth water and throat dry up . she was a head turner anywhere they went eyes followed and it made him want to hit the roof ( or the asshole staring) . it was a personal hell he set for himself one that said don’t touch .

The one reprieve he had was when she went home to visit but then she’d come home with care packages from his momma , her momma and stuff she knew he like but couldn’t get in san diego . she would cook them food if he wasn’t home it would be in the refrigerator waiting or before he left in the morning she would make him a protein shake and something to eat . sometimes he would come home chuckle sight of her at the dinning table books all spread out and soft snores coming from her mouth . lifting her up and bringing her to bed lingering a little just to absorb the scene before scolding himself and helding out the door to be more a perverted prick . when the weather was warm it was like someone in the sky was doing it purposely to kill him when she walk around the house in short shorts and cropped tank top. Yup jake was in hell and he couldn’t escape it . first he would sleep around more but half way through it wasn’t the woman he saw leaving the bed , it wasn’t the voice of the woman in his ear it was her begging him to fuck her into obvilion , then once he finished and the condom discarded that’s when he would leave and guilt ridden ride home only to look her in her eyes and ask her what she was doing up . when she began seeing a guy he thought it would help it would stop the thoughts of her consuming him daily but it made it worst. Watching someone else’s hands on her , someone else lips touching hers. What made it worse was that joy , that happiness he had to hide when she would come to him upset over the break up . then it happened, kai some recruit , she’d met at the hard deck and this one well this one seemly stuck around a bit longer , one that made her sing his praises and gushed about how cute and sweet he was . he come home to them making out of the couch before scurrying to his bed room and it was worse hearing the rather short heated moment that made the blonde scoff knowing a woman like that needed way longer, needed to be worshipped , tore apart and put back together and that isn’t even half the time that would require to do that.

He had to see the prick at the base , waving and talking to jake like they were old buddies. Even trying as much to talk to the other who honestly were not a big fan either then corner of his eye he would see the other recruits watching the interaction make kai some hotshot amongst them all . showered and ready to just go home it wasn’t til he stood drying his hair with the towel then slowly sitting getting himself dressed hidden from anyone to come in making the place empty just so he mentally prepare himself for going home .

“ man lucky son of a bitch “ he could hear shaking his head almost like children til his ears pick up on voice that made his mood drop .

“ of course i am man she puts out no matter what and gullible too i told her i was helping my grandma out and but hooked up with some hotty actually gonna hook up again tonight after i see her “ he could hear the smirk in the little pricks face.

“ man careful she in with the big guys “ .

“ why you think i’m throwing her the bone i mean she hot but not for me but least she can do something f…” he stopped still feeling the presence behind his back . “ come on man be cool and keep this between us right “ he patted the man bare shoulder but the nervous smile all over his face .

“ call her now and tell her it over now or else i’ll call you and tell her then she can hear me break every bone in your body “ he gritted walking forward backing the pale scare shitless man into the lockers.

“ hey bagman ease up “ he could hear rooster call.

“ nah he aint gonna string y/n and use her to get himself further while fucking some tramp” jake gritted. “ the little boy is gonna ring and end things or i’ll end him simple as” . now jake expected rooster to continue the whole thing of trying to separate them but now the man stood as his side and looked down at kai , whose own buddy stood to the side .

“ well you heard him ring “ rooster arms crossed still fulled dressed compare to jake who was standing in his calvin klein boxers a comic sight if anyone else were to walk in . phone in hand he pull her contact as jake pulls it from his hand and hit call . “ i’m not an idiot son” he scoffed foiling the plan or any plans of fake call .

“ hey y/n i’m sorry but i can see you anymore .. your great but it’s not something i want hope you understand” his voice shaking not with a emotion pure fear as he was now cornered. “ and don’t call me back when you get this “ god this prick .

“ voicemail really out and give me two hundred and fifty push ups . “ bagman you go see if she ok i got this “ he smirked . “ oh and bagman ?”

“ yeah bradshaw “ jake still snippy still stopping himself from being dishonorably discharged or in a cell.

“ make a move and we won’t have to deal with this shit” a shit eating grin and out the door before jake was able to snap back .

The whole car ride he was wondering how she was , knowing she was probably really upset and crying. Not second thought before grabbing her somethings to make it better than scolding himself for how he was going to explain how he knew but that wasn’t such a priority now , the priority was the girl sitting at home wondering what was going on , the one that was probably wondering why it was so sudden. Shutting his truck , almost practising how he was going to go about this , ready to hear the crying . except he was standing staring at her laying on her belly,her singing along to the music and typing away on her laptop not a care in the world , barely even noticing jake standing there . but he could see her , see how her short had ridden up and the bottom of her ass was looking perfect and plump . he noticed how her tits were pushed against the cushions of their sofa . how all he had to do was push her legs apart and …

“ oh hey jake “ her sickeningly sweet voice called snapping him out of his lust driven day dream or how he was starting to get hard and was sure the ice cream was melting with the heat that was coming off of his body .

“ hey darling , you ok?” he smiled weakly heading to the kitchen needed to readjust and level his head but could he do that … of course not she was following behind and asking him what he got , her hand was grazing against his shoulder leaving goose bumps in it’s wake , she had to of know that sweet honey smooth tone she used how it would effect of a man . the way she looked up at him , she had to know the affect and yet she didn’t shrugging it off as he sat at the island her hand still in on his shoulder smile on her lips as she looked threw the bags.

“ ice cream.. For me” her head even the messy bun on her head was doing it for him then perking up when he nodded. “ we shall share it “ she giggled heading to grabbing spoons then it happened the boiling point , the shameful feelings he’d been having all this time .

“ enough jesus christ enough ok i think i need you to move out “ he sighed making her spin holding the spoons.

“ wait what why .. wh-what did i do “ her face fell looking at him like a puppy who just been kicked.

“ it’s not you darling it’s me , i can live here and feel this way it ain’t actually might go insane ok , you know your hot right i mean so beautiful to the point i don’t think i’ve have a hot shower since you came here and i swear those outfits fuck” he groaned as her face went from upset to confused to something else but he didn’t see that he was waiting for her to call him a pervert an then to later get chewed out by half of texas for what he just admitted to.

Yet nothing came , not a sound that he could hear. It was hard when he felt like he was sinking into the ground . Then he felt his arm move and the weight settling in his lap only to look up to see her sitting in his lap and a smile on her face. Her hand under his chin and for once in his life Jake was speechless , not a word could be found in his head or on the tip of his tongue . her eyes wide and round as she leaned forward making his breath catch in his throat. There she was sitting on his lap like she was always meant to , like it was her place alone and how perfectly she fit there.

“ about time cowboy “ she giggled , he felt in on his lips til her own made themselves home , the resolve instantly fading away when his hand pulled her closer to him and the other one her hip. He could finally taste her gloss that was always on the plump pillow lips , he could finally takes her . a swipe of his tongue on her bottom lips she instantly open up let him gain entrance , gave herself to him as he swallowed the soft sigh that came from her mouth .

. pulling back his head rested on her shoulder trying to hold himself back , stop whatever was happening making sure this wasn’t some sort of rebound and yet when he finally looked to see her eyes , the lust blown pupils and kiss bitten lips .

“ darling we can’t .. this “ he began only for her finger to be placed on his lips .

“ if your gonna give me bullshit about your going to say age thing .. i’m not a little girl i’m literally in my mid twenties and if it about kai well he dumped me which i don’t understand because we were just friends with benefit … and before you say anything else think about it tall blonde guys because honestly i didn’t think you …” she felt his finger on her lips now only for that coy smile wrapping her lips around the digit and swirling her tongue around the digit feeling his other hand that was on her hip grip her harder and almost feral groan fall out of his mouth that made her clench on nothing .

“ are we on the same page? , cause darling if we do this i don’t i can stop and believe me i already can’t stop” he rasped pulling his finger from her mouth before crashing his lips on hers , her hand was in his hair slight pulled that kick started jake, lifting her up ice cream left to melt on the counter. The kiss was hungry , heat pure fire teeth and tongue clashing felt him strain against her core . pulling away she pulled the top from her body throwing it anywhere it didn’t matter before her bra soon joined and the groan that left this man come of made her come from that alone . everything about jake seresin was sex on legs . pulling them both on to the sofa as she stood pulling her shorts and panties down slow as she could baring herself to the men that had driven her mad for two years before falling to her knee before him ready to submit to any desire the blonde had running through his head . what she didn’t expect was after rid himself of his own clothes was pulling her up making her head tilt until he sat her on his chest.

“ sit on my face baby i need to taste you “ he rasped making a whimper fall from her lips settling her self up and over his face her hand holding the back of the sofa to brace herself. “ fuck the perfect little pussy baby “ with that no warning even a hit of his breath on her core . one thing she always wonder and found in a single moment was jake ATE pussy , he ate her like a man starved from her clit to her weeping entrance . like he’d been in the desert all his life and she was an oasis . she could of swore the wood would spilt with how hard she gripped it , her other hand found it’s home in his hair hips bucking as he took what he wanted , the feeling of her core tightening , that bind that felt like it was going to snap her in half it was so tight , one that had her crying out his name like a pray or chant. She never felt anything like it , that eye rolling into the back of your head , toe curling pleasure she now felt as jake ate her pussy like it was his sole mission . he was addicted like the nectar of the gods spilling on his tongue lapping her release willing himself not to cum from the whole thing .

Her body shook as her vision came back , with shaky leg she lifted herself up , if it was anyone else she would be embarrassed by how her slick covered his face but the way jake seresin was looking at her made her feel powerful, almost ethereal in a sense . she lower herself back on his lap feeling the vast expanse of this man , the thick and solid mass that was his cock sitting pretty between her soak folds , kissing , licking into his mouth she could taste herself on his tongue and yet it didn’t matter a muffle moan spilling out as she ground her core on him , the tip of his cock hitting her clit in just the right ways as he moaned back. His hand gliding up her back and she rolled her hips cries falling from her mouth into his . stop her still and nip to her bottom lip as he pulled back , holding her in place really taking the sight in of her on his lap , her body that he imagine so many nights alone and nothing could even do the real thing justice . every part of his touch on her skin , the pebbled skin of her nipples as he pinched make her hips buck and whine slip from her mouth , nothing like the ones that would be heard for those assholes that probably couldn’t make her cum that made him smile more sense of pride in that .

“ you gonna let me fuck you baby “ he smirked confidence long return and multiplied with how responsive she was to him .

“ please “ she cried needed him in every sense and yet not knowing where to even start. She raised up grabbing his shaft lining it with her entrance the pornographic moan sinking inch by glorious inch . the delicious stretch that instantly ruined her life in one moment because her sex life would never be as good as it would with jake seresin and that was a hill she would die on . each bounce on his cock that hit spots she only read in books that main her singing her own personal concert , she was pretty sure if they didn’t know his name they would now . if she knew this would be the outcome of moving in she would of said it the day she arrived because she was hook , line and sinking on jake’s dick til he flipped them over.

He needed her cum , needed her to get there just one more time because he own was soon approaching , from her tight welcoming pussy to the sounds that filled the room , skin slapping and pants he could feel it, feel her tighten around him when his fingers came to her mouth .

“ wet em darling “ his raspy drawl as she took his digits in her welcoming mouth before he brought them down circle her puffy clit watching his cock plowing in and out of her was a sight he seared to his brain . “ feel it baby , feel you getting close , feel her sucking me in huh “ he smirked

“ fuck please .. please “ she moaned unsure of even what she was asking,

“ i’ll give it to you baby don’t worry bout that fuck … only ever dick you have in this pussy is mine we clear?” he slapped her pussy make her clench down harder on him .

“ yess yours… just yours cowboy “ she cried out .

It was like the whole world made sense once more and his hell turned to his piece of heaven on earth . a loud cry of pleasure shot through the air as his own thrust became sloppy releasing every single drop inside her velvet walls paint them white. Panting as his hand calm to her cheek softly caressing, eye’s filled with admiration as he leaned down kissing her lips gently using the moment to pul from her , peppering her face with more affection and admiration before he lift her up carrying her to the bathroom . she felt the exhaustion taking over yet she could hear the bath running in the bathroom. This was another side to the one they called hangman , the soft and gentle side taking care of her as if she was most precious thing in the world til he brought her to his room laying her in his bed putting one his own shirts on her body and cuddle her into his side .

“ i gonna take you out to dinner baby i may of done this backwards but i do like you more than i can even begin to admit “ he chuckled as she nuzzled into his side nothing wiping the smile on her face.

“ who thought all it would take for us to get here was for you to explode “ she snorted before her eyes got to happy as she didn’t need to dream of being jakes , he made that very clear.

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hkthatgffan · 3 months ago

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What's actually your opinion on Stanford Pines?

Oh, that's an interesting question. Short answer; I like Ford and think he's a great, flawed but lovable character who has endured a lot and come out of it a better man than he was before. Now, if you want my long answer...keep reading beyond this for why I feel that way.

Back when I first saw Gravity Falls, I thought Ford was okay. He wasn't so much a favourite of mine (that title then and still belongs to Dipper and Mabel for me), nor was I as interested in him. I did love reading up everything in Journal 3 about him and all his antics.

During the Mabel hate era in 2018, I did somewhat sour in my opinion on Ford as I felt fans were being too harsh on Mabel and not realizing some of the negatives about him and how Dipper and Mabel were drifting into the same direction Ford and Stan had become. I felt angry that fans were hating on Mabel and calling out her mistakes but downplaying other characters', Ford included.

But then, if you were around in 2018 and remember the Mabel debates that raged on then...you know how messy it was no matter what side you were on, lmao. Be it anti or pro Mabel or Ford, people really debated long and hard during that time and it's an era I'm glad we're more or less past.

In the years since and having heard more takes from fans who like Ford and get him in ways I didn't, I do find myself appreciating and liking Ford a lot more than I did back then. I'm still always gonna be defensive of Mabel and firm on my stance that Dipper staying behind in Gravity Falls with Ford was the worst outcome that could've happened in that scenario, but I see Ford in a lens less of hatred and more realization that...the whole situation was a learning experience for everyone in that situation. Ford learned something from it, Mabel did, Dipper did...all of them did.

To me, Ford is a character that is good at heart. Like every member of the Pines family, he's flawed and has made mistakes that he's overcome and improved from. And as we see again in The Book of Bill...there is one major new thing we really see that makes him all the better in my eyes now than he used to be!

I've spoken about this before when someone asked what my stance on Billford is, but I think as someone who has survived being in toxic situations with people who made my life worse the same way Bill was a toxic person to Ford, I understand him more so now than I used to.

What we see is Ford and Bill having a partnership (or friendship or relationship depending on how you see it) that was toxic. Bill was manipulative, took Ford and tried to mold him into what he wanted him to be. And Ford eventually realized that but Bill made his life hell for trying to escape. Ford eventually being able to and learn to find happiness in his family and friends was an incredible thing to see and that single thing, having been through such shit myself as others probably can relate too, changed Ford in a huge way for me for the better.

Ford to me is a guy who managed to overcome the worst thrown at him and be able to let go of that whole situation and escape it to become better. And we all deserve that. We all deserve to escape the Bill Ciphers in our life, find our Pines family and grow and become better and happier from that.

That is what I think of Stanford Pines. He's a character who is flawed. He's a character who has his ups and downs. But at his core, he is a guy who overcame adversities thrown at him and found a way to live a better and more fulfilling life with those who appreciate and love him for who he is. For a character I once felt no real connection or understanding for and more so hatred...he sure has come a long way for the better and I couldn't be more proud of him.

I know for others this may not be how they see Ford or you may even look at what I said and think I missed the whole point. But that's okay. Because these characters are for us as fans to relate and find aspects in them we can understand. Headcanons exist for a reason. To me, that's how I see Ford. To you, he may be something else.

That's the beauty of this show. Headcanon these character the way you please, without fear or worry of being told you're wrong. Alex has said no headcanon to him will ever be confirmed or denied...so headcanon and perceive these characters the way you feel. Because we all are Gravity Falls fans...and love them the way we do.

But FR, we need more Mabel and Ford bonding. That's all I want from this show now...these two just having fun and being awesome, lol!!

#Ask That GF FAN #AMA #Ask #gravity falls #stanford pines #that gf fan

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princess-glassred · 5 months ago

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I'm fascinated by what could have potentially happened had Henry succeeded in killing all the losers. Aside from the obvious of Pennywise never being defeated, and assuming IT doesn't kill him because he's a fantastic scapegoat, imagine how big the fallout of this would be.

Henry would be found out almost immediately, if not from his own incompetance then from IT deliberately luring the cops to him so he'd be arrested. He'd either be sent back to the ward for the crimimally insane, or, worst case scenario, Henry's crime might be so heinous Maine would consider bringing back the death penalty just for him. The version of events told by the media would be that Henry is a lunatic who committed a string of murders when he was a young child, then broke out of Juniper Hills and committed another string of murders. The timeline wouldn't match up at all, given that people were dying before Henry broke out, but the media wouldn't focus on that.

This case would probably make national news (at least for a little bit) given that Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh, Richie Tozier, and Ben Hanscom were super famous individuals and them all dying together would be an insane story for the public. Of course pennywise covered things up, but these aren't just abused kids or bums who live in alleys. Bill and Richie have an actual fanbase, Ben was on magazine covers, and Bev was a well known fashion mogul. I can only imagine how messy things would be if Tom and Audra died too and the media added them to Henry's list of victims. Audra was a famous actress/model and Tom was Bev's business partner. This shit would have been everywhere.

The goreyness of the case would bring a lot of attention to Derry and I imagine with how insensitive Derry can be they'd use this in tourism. Before this all they had to make people come to Derry was the canal days, so i'm sure sombody would be eager to capatalize on it. The tourism boom would probably cause Derry to be a little gentrified and thus bring more people to Derry than ever before. It would have a plethora of new meals and probably eat more than it'd ever dreamed it could.

Henry would become a pop culture figure, much of the same way we see people treat Jeffrey Dahmer or John Wayne Gacy. IT would love all of that attention because the more people focus on how fucked it is Henry killed people the less people focus on Derry as a whole. Of course there'd been tragedies in the town before, but none of those victims had been famous, and besides: this is the 80's/2010's, the way media sensationalized things would be a lot worse with the prominince of TV/the internet.

There'd probably be some documentary made about Henry's life using what little information they could gather around town. Nobody had even seen henry since he was arrested and nobody talked to him before, so it was basically gaurenteed anyone who got interviewed was lying for attention. There might be a terrible movie made about him at some point, similarly to how in Carrie the black prom incident got a movie that sucked. Henry would probably lack the ability to understand how famous he'd gotten, if not be totally ignorant to it. A few people would get mad that Mike Hanlon and the other numerous victims of Henry who weren't famous get no attention. Tik tok would do it's tik tok thing. True crime crush community girlies would have a field day with young pictures of Henry (especially in the 2017 continuity).

Henry would become a well known person to arm chair diagnose, the kind of killer you write research papers and books about. There'd be plenty of books about Henry too, discussing his fucked mental state and proposing theories about why he did what what he did, a lot of which based on offensive and outdated views of mental health (ie: homosexuality being a mental disorder).

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xx-slug-xx · 9 months ago

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Billford isn’t just silly “toxic old man yaoi” like people have been saying. Their relationship being implied something more really means nothing. Cuz it’s literally horrible. Bill was manipulative, abusive towards Ford for years. And then did the exact same to Dipper years later.

Neither Ford nor Dipper or the rest of the Pines need Bill, if anything Bill needs them and that say a lot about how pathetic Bill is.

Yes and that’s why Ford and Bills relationship is so interesting to me!

Bill, a being that has spent eons painting himself out to be this absolute monster, and he absolutely is based on all his actions, finding solace in some human freak? Something that Bill, being treated as a freak in his home dimension, can relate to? Bill, the demon who most likely accidentally destroyed his entire dimension, who then had to make himself out to be the monster he felt that he was? His ego wouldn’t allow himself to be anything but that monster, and he lies about enjoying all the destruction he causes until his lies are no longer lies to him.

He’d never admit that he wanted more from Ford than the portal and nothing more. He’s supposed to be selfish, only caring about what new planet to consume. Relating to a mortal flesh bag? That would defeat the image he’s created for himself.

Ford saw Bill as perfection in his youth, and Bill valued him for being a dreamer. Bill was the only thing that could efficiently stroke Fords ego, and Ford enjoyed every second at the time. He’s the smartest man on earth, not able to relate to anyone but a dream demon he thought was trying to help him. Ford practically worshiped Bill like he was a god. Little did Ford know that the creature he thought was light was actually a great darkness. The unimaginable feeling of betrayal he felt when he learned the truth.

Bill played the game with him, not only to keep up the facade, but surely for something more as well. Ford seeing him for what he really was and making it his life’s goal to destroy him absolutely ruined Bill. Bill didn’t know what he had until it was already gone.

In the Book of Bill, he’s a horribly unreliable narrator. But Ford is way more reliable, and so is viewing everything from a completely uninvolved perspective. Combine what we see from the show, Journal Three, and The Book of Bill? And oh baby we got a recipe for a disaster of a relationship

They are so horrible for each other, but that sort of chemistry is so fun to explore when it comes to character analysis! It makes both Bill and Fords dynamic, their motivations, and other character related things so much deeper!

Bill needs purpose, and his purpose was ruined by his own undoing. He can blame any of the Pines family for this, but really, he’s his own worst enemy. The man needs serious help lol. Fords moved on, he has better things to worry about. Bill just can’t see past the potential for what could have been. Unable to forget the past, no matter how hard he lies to himself

I would definitely not say that Bill did the same thing to Dipper. Yes, he manipulated the kid and made his and his sister’s lives hell. But their history is not at all equal when Dipper didn’t dedicate his life to a false god like Ford did

Sorry for the ramble, anon! I’m in autism mode lmao

#the book of bill #gravity falls #billford #ford pines #bill cipher #comship #toxic ships

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justcruisingaroundrevived · 2 months ago

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RANSOM NOTES KEEP FALLING OUT YOUR MOUTH

Summary: Bill’s been successfully cured, and now he reflects on how great life has been

Word count: 437

TW/CWs: Implied Brainwashing, the f slur, brief mentions of vomit

A/N: Saw the TikTok @mischaqueen did for the Mandom Bill, and decided to do a quick Drabble of it!

Reblogs are appreciated!

You stare at the window in your room. Your feet are placed perfectly parallel with each other, your hands clasp together.

150 leaves. That’s how many were left on the tree. Fall’s starting soon, and you know you have to prepare for dinner tonight. Last night was chicken and broccoli with pasta. You mentally pat yourself on the back, your mom praising how absolutely delicious it was!

You didn’t pay attention to how your sister looked at you. Her brown eyes fixated on your robotic movements. She watched you barely have any fluidity between cleaning dishes to making dinner.

“Bill…are you okay?” She asked.

“Why, yes, Jane. I’ve been very chipper! I’ve never had this much energy to do anything really! I’ve finished reading “Jane Eyre”, “Little Women”, and I’ve studied some of Julia’s Child’s recipes for mom’s birthday.”

“That’s great and all, but…are you okay?”

“You keep asking that Jane. I told you, I’m alright.”

“I know, but I'm worried. I mean, you haven’t asked me all week where mom’s money was, you haven’t barged into my room during my programming, and worst of all…I kind of miss seeing your room being geeky. It annoyed me before, but it was the one thing going for you…”

Silence. You do remember that collection of yours; Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Major Violence, Battle Broad, Star Trek, Tasha Yar, The Flash, Shazam, the works.

You remember how it surrounded your room. You’d sit on the floor, flipping through both used and vintage comic books, meticulously picking out each and every detail of the page. You can still remember picking out the little mistakes your favorite comic book artists would make, almost crashing out at how noticeable they were…

You also remember being tied to the chair, vomit on your shirt, crying about the bullying from school. A geek, a nerd…a faggot…your hands still burn from how tightly the rope was on your body, wriggling to be freed.

“We know how you feel, Bill. Let us help you…”

“Bill!”

Jane’s voice snapped you back to reality, her face reading just pure worry (strange. You don’t remember caring this much about you before)

“Jane…I’m okay Jane. You don’t have to worry about me; that’s my job as your big brother. Now, just watch the chicken cook while I use the bathroom.”

You left her at the kitchen table, not noticing how her eyes welted slightly for your safety.

“Bill! Dinner’s ready!” Your mom yells.

135 leaves on the trees now. Falls coming quickly.

You get up, the warm light hitting your face before shutting the bedroom door. It’s dinner time now.

#the eltingville club #welcome to eltingville #eltingville club #bill dickey #eltingville bill #eltingville jane #jane dickey #Mandom Bill

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supernatural-bias · 8 months ago

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𝐎𝐡 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

↳ summary: what do you do when your neighbor is an up and coming rock star, and also the biggest dickhead you've ever met?

↳ warnings: mentions of smoking, murdoc being murdoc, canon type gorillaz content, etc. this all takes place sort of pre phase one/beginning of phase one

↳ song: sabbath bloody sabbath—black sabbath

masterlist | commissions | carrd

Your next door neighbor was a prick.

The apartment down the hall from you had been empty for as long as you could remember. It didn’t surprise you, to be honest, that in the year and a half you had lived in Essex nobody had snatched up the vacancy. Living in a cheap building with leaky faucets and flickering lights wasn’t for everyone, and if it weren’t for the fact that the complex was close enough to your job for you to commute on foot, you would have gone out flat hunting a long time ago.

So when your landlord mentioned in passing that you’d be getting a new neighbor, your first thought had been one of sympathy. This was a place of last resort, and you felt sorry for them if their financial status was anywhere near the likes of yours.

You no longer felt that way. Not one bit. If you were being completely honest, it had taken less than a week for you to realize that you wouldn’t be borrowing a cup of sugar from your new neighbor anytime soon.

He was loud, inconsiderate, apathetic, and you're pretty sure he worshiped satan. Not that there's anything wrong with that— you were simply tired of waking up every morning to the smell of fresh sulfur. The amount of air fresheners you had to go through just to get your place smelling normal again was criminal to both your sense of smell and your pocket book.

He would blast his music at all hours of the day, throw things at his wall hard enough to cause your picture frames to shake, and generally sound like he was orchestrating a brawl in the middle of his apartment. And when he wasn't doing his best to break the sound barrier, or win the world's worst neighbor award, he was snooping around the complex with a cigarette dangling from his lips, bothering anyone that happened to be passing by, and laughing like a banshee when they inevitably told him to fuck off.

Not to mention that he's green. You're still not sure what all of that's about, but at this point you’ve just accepted it as a fact. You had a green man living next door, and you couldn’t be more pissed about it.

You had done your best to avoid him as much as possible the first few months after he moved next to you, going as far as to wait each morning until you heard his door down the hallway slam shut and lock so you knew when to slip out into the hallway. It was just your luck that all that effort went to waste the moment you found him outside your door one night, riffling through your mail like it was nothing if not his own.

When you had blankly snatched the junk advertisements and bills from his sharp nails, shooting an accusatory 'what in the hell do you think you're doing' in his direction, he didn't even have the decency to apologize. He just blinked and scratched at his bare chest, his initial scowl switching to a sleazy sharks grin the second he finished giving you a once over.

You didn't give him a chance to form a sentence before you were shutting your door in his face with a resounding thud, faintly wondering afterward if it hit him with it. Upon further reflection, you decided you didn't care if you had or not.

His mate that happened to be over that night was the one that ended up apologizing to you later, and you had been pleasantly surprised to find that he was the exact opposite of his friend; all stuttering apologies and long legs as he messed nervously with his blue hair. He spent most of the conversation standing awkwardly in your door frame before you invited him in, ultimately deciding that he made for better company than his companion.

You found out that night that your neighbors name was Murdoc Niccals, and he was crashing in the space next to you for the time being while he tried to work on starting up a band. His partner that you let into your flat, 2D, was apparently the singer for the band, and claimed that he joined because he owed Murdoc a debt of some kind. You hadn't pushed further after hearing that, instead focusing on the band part. It certainly explained the blaring guitar samples you'd hear in the dead of night, and the suspicious looking cd's that were occasionally stuffed in your doors mail slot that you had chalked up to a scam up until until now.

You had been a bit more neighborly with Murdoc after that, no longer avoiding him and his smoky stench on purpose— if only because 2D had asked you to not judge him too harshly, and you felt you could trust the blue haired man.

That didn't mean you liked Murdoc, though. Every attempt he inevitably made after that day to get you to visit his apartment, or go out drinking with him, was always met with a quick exit from whatever conversation he had been trying to strike up with you. The pattern would repeat for weeks in what you knew was an attempt to wear you down, and to be perfectly honest, you thought you had been doing pretty well at warding off the oddly persistent man. It wasn't until a month or two more passed that you finally caved at the sight of 2D on your doorstep, waving at you with a squinted grin and halfway concealing a smug Murdoc behind him.

Bastard.

"I still don't know why I agreed to this." You surmised while locking the door to your apartment, purposefully not looking at Murdoc when he laughed. He was shirtless again— he was always shirtless —and his hair was flatter in the back this morning, like he’d smoothed a hand over it absentmindedly.

2D was standing to the right of the both of you, fiddling with the inner pockets of his jacket while waiting for you to finish up. He gave you a gap toothed smile when you turned to look at him. He had mentioned showing you some of the songs the band had been working on if you ever decided to come over, and was finally looking forward to delivering on that promise.

"Knew you couldn't say no to ol' face-ache. Don't know why I didn't think of it sooner." Murdoc tried to sling an arm around your shoulders, but you pulled away quick enough to make it look like he missed. You almost laughed at the scowl on his face.

"More like I couldn't say no to another week of you knocking on my door every day." You resorted to pulling a face, remembering how just this past week you had been woken up to impatient knocking on your door at least three times. "If I was of sound mind, I'd have reported you to the landlord already."

And yet here you were, you mused silently, accepting an invite to your strange neighbors apartment instead.

"No one's of sound mind anymore, mate. That's why the world’s so wonderfully shit these days." Came Murdoc's cynical response. He dug around in his teeth for something with his pinky for a moment before taking it out and looking at it, flicking it off his finger with a pleased look. You ignored him.

"Why do you even want me to come over anyways? It's not like we're best pals. I avoided you for a month, found you going through my mail, and then kicked you off my doorstep." You asked while wrestling your keys from the door lock.

"Everyone needs a bit of Niccals in their life." Murdoc said with a short laugh. You thought you saw him wiggle his eyebrows.

"Uh huh." You decided not to point out the fact he had ignored your question entirely, simply following after him.

The three of you got into Murdoc's apartment down the hall fairly quick. He only had to kick the door with the toe of his boot a few times before it gave way, opening with a loud creak and bringing the strong smell of smoke with it, along with the familiar stench of sulfur that you had since come to associate with him.

"Welcome—" Murdoc drew out the 'e' slowly as he sauntered through the doorway, "—to my crib."

He walked into the middle of the entrance and spread his arms out while grinning to himself. 2D shuffled in after you did, thanking you when you held the door open for him.

Murdoc’s apartment was much darker than yours. That was the first thing you noticed. Looking up, you saw that two of the three overhead lights that came with the apartment were either busted or shattered, and the third seemed to be handing on by a single wire. The rest of the room was lit up by flames from surrounding scentless candles, and looking at the red wax cascading down the long sides and onto carpet and countertops below, you wondered if he ever even bothered to blow them out before he left. Probably not.

In the middle of the living room, which was connected directly to the entrance, sat a rickety coffee table and an ashen sofa. Both of them had matching burns littering their surface, and you briefly got the mental image of Murdoc falling asleep on the couch with a lit cigarette still in between his sharp teeth.

You took in a few more details as Murdoc led you through the expanse of the living room. A signed copy of the Wickerman sat on a wooden mantle next to what looked like an upside down rubber cross. Both items were surrounded by numerous amounts of stains and scuffs on the walls, the majority of which looked to be more cigarette burns. At one point you almost tripped over what looked like a stack of old rock cd's at one point, only for 2D to immediately knock them over from behind. Murdoc didn't seem to notice, and you weren't about to point it out, so the two of you scurried away.

Murdoc had his hands in his jean pockets when he reached a different room separate from the living area, but took them out to open the door with some effort.

"Now, this is where the magic happens." Murdoc said smugly. You hesitantly walked forwards as 2D brushed past you from behind, making a beeline for what was probably a bed in one corner of the room, but looked more akin to a pile of dirty clothes and balled up linin sheets.

Murdoc’s inverted cross necklace bounced on his chest as he flopped on the mattress. 2D roughly sat up from where he had laid down on it, and the two of them started kicking each other pointlessly as you perused around the room.

“This is where you record?” The two of them stopped fighting when you turned back around, Murdoc having sent one more kick to 2D’s lower back before you could see.

“More like practice, love.” Murdoc chewed on his lip and closed his eyes. “Couldn’t record here if we wanted to. The acoustics just ain’t right for what we wanna do. We’re renting a studio out downtown for the real stuff, but we come up with most everything here.”

“Is it just you two? In your band, I mean.” You had been wondering that for a bit. You didn’t know much about making an album, but a band consisting of just a singer and a bass player didn’t seem like much of a band to you at all.

“Naw.” 2D spoke up with a shake of his head. “We’ve got a drummer, an’ my girlfrien’s the guitarist. They just don’t like comin up ‘ere much. Somefink about the smell, I fink. They keep buggin us about buyin’ a studio of our own, but Murdoc says we don’t haff the money right now.”

You heard Murdoc mumble something about the money comment to himself with a growl, and you pretended not to hear as you nodded at 2D.

A sort of awkward silence fell over the room after that, and you looked at a random stain on the ceiling while shifting your weight from foot to foot, unsure of where to go from there. It wasn’t like you had come over with an itinerary for the day in mind, and you certainly weren’t about to ask Murdoc what he wanted to do. You had a feeling you wouldn’t like his answer no matter what it was.

Another beat of silence passed. Murdoc’s chest rose and fell slowly. You poked at the inside of your cheek with your tongue.

“So— you want to show off some of those songs of yours or not?” You eventually asked, directing the question at 2D.

The reaction was immediate. He smiled widely, showing off some of his missing teeth, and launched himself off the bed towards a desk with a pair of speakers nestled next to you. You saw from the corner of your eye as Murdoc opened his eyes again, watching as the two of you crowded around a busted up computer screen in an attempt to pull up a song demo or two.

“Let me do it.” He grew impatient when 2D took too long, hopping out of bed to swagger over to the computer, hitting 2D on the back of the head as he forced him out of the desk chair and onto the floor by you.

“Show 'em th' one we worked on last month—“

“I got it!” Murdoc snapped, growling as he clicked a few more buttons. Finally, the file came up, and he pressed play as you shuffled closer to listen, ears straining as the melody opened with a heavy bass line. You watched the time stamp creep across the computer screen with rapt attention, pretending to ignore the feeling of two pairs of eyes on you.

It didn’t take long for it to finish with a flourish of drums, and one song from last month turned into one more song they worked on last night, then “just a few more” from the beginning of the year, until Murdoc was scrolling down in an attempt to find something they hadn’t showed you yet. At one point, 2D even shared some lyrics he had scrawled on a diner napkin this morning, smiling with squinted eyes as you laughed at some of the more absurd ones.

The three of you spent the rest of the night listening to the files Murdoc had at the ready, the two of them occasionally stopping one of the songs to gauge your opinion on it. More than once you had to reach over Murdoc’s shoulder to pause an ongoing track so 2D could launch into a detailed lyrical explanation, and after a few tries to slap your hand away, eventually the bassist would let you, even jumping into the conversation with a genuine take of his own every so often. After a while, you didn’t even have to tell Murdoc to keep hands to himself, all of you falling into easy conversation. 2D happily admitted at one point he was surprised you knew as much as you did about making music, considering when he had first started out, he had known fuck all. You’d just shrugged, taking the compliment, and told Murdoc to shut up when he grinned and said he liked someone with intelligence.

By the time you were leaving to get back to your apartment, waving goodbye to 2D and ignoring a borderline raunchy comment tossed your way by Murdoc, you hadn’t even realized six hours had passed.

Staring at your apartment door in the dark hallway outside of your flat, you blinked once. Twice.

You sighed. Fuck.

Maybe your next door neighbor wasn’t that bad after all.

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