#Best Balance Bikes

[dravidious]

Visual novel ft. Breeze with a section where they're gonna do a super dangerous daredevil stunt and if you don't talk them out of it, instead of describing what happens there's just a scene transition to the hospital

[keeps-ache]

!! what if i made another outfit for Teddie. just cuz

[orcelito]

Feeling the intense urge to learn how to ride a motorcycle and become a biker and also learn how to play guitar

I own a guitar, technically. It's not here rn but I could get it without too much trouble. Inherited from my dad bc he wanted to learn how to play, too. Doubt I'll have much time to work on it before I graduate, bc any instrument practice time I have will be spent on violin, but. Someday. I wanna learn.

Motorcycle riding would be a bit more effort, but I know 2 men who would love to bring me to lessons for that. So honestly, there's a pretty good chance of this happening before too long, too. I also wanna get a leather jacket that properly fits me. I've got 2 (I think?) that I got from my dad, but theyre too big on me for normal wear. Idk I just really wanna be a biker. No one else in my generation has taken it up, but both my dad and my uncle were bikers. I wanna carry on the tradition, both for their memory and also for my own enjoyment of it.

[deepak376]

3in1 Scooter Tricycle FUN for Kids!

[thatweirdtranny]

kinda want to do something crazy like getting over my fear of driving by learning to ride a motorcycle

[reviewskim]

Top 5 Best Budget Electric Bikes [Review-2023]

[amirasainz]

hooola!! absolutely love the baby alonso series and i’d love to see her playing with penelope maybe?? or one of lando’s nieces!!

hope u have a great day 🫶🫶

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

@piastappies

Best friends forever

The bustling paddock was alive with the hum of race car engines, chatter from teams, and fans eagerly seeking autographs. Amidst the energy of the Formula 1 weekend, two tiny figures stood out—Yn and Penelope.

Yn, with her sparkling pink bike that had streamers hanging off the handlebars, was busy adjusting her helmet. Penelope, on her equally dazzling sparkling purple bike, was already riding in circles, her giggles carrying through the air.

"Come on, Yn!" Penelope called, a teasing grin on her face. "You're so slow!"

Yn puffed up her cheeks in mock frustration, tightening the strap on her helmet. "I'm not slow! I just wanna make sure my helmet is perfect! Safety first, P!"

Penelope stopped her bike and crossed her arms dramatically. "We’re in the paddock, silly. No cars are gonna hit us!"

Yn finally climbed onto her bike, wobbling for a moment before finding her balance. "Fine! But you're not gonna win the race!" she said with determination, pedaling furiously to catch up.

The two girls zipped past team garages, their bikes glittering under the sun, leaving a trail of laughter behind them. Engineers paused to watch, some waving and smiling, others snapping quick photos of the adorable sight.

"Careful, girls!" Charles called out, leaning against a garage wall with a cup of coffee.

"We’re being careful!" Penelope yelled back, her voice high-pitched and confident.

"Yeah!" Yn chimed in. "We’re super fast, like Max and Fernando!"

Charles chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, just don’t beat them in qualifying, okay?"

The girls burst into laughter, though neither truly understood what qualifying was.

---

Later, Yn and Penelope decided to ditch their bikes and explore on foot. Hand-in-hand, they skipped down the paddock, their little sneakers slapping against the ground in perfect rhythm.

"We should go see the snacks table!" Penelope suggested, her eyes sparkling.

"Snacks!" Yn cheered. "I hope they have gummy bears. And cookies!"

As they approached the Red Bull hospitality, Max was leaning on a railing, chatting with Sergio. He spotted the duo and immediately straightened up, his tough demeanor softening into a wide grin.

"Hey, what are you two up to now?" Max asked, crouching down to their level.

"Snacks!" Penelope declared with a triumphant fist in the air.

Yn nodded eagerly. "Gummy bears!"

Max laughed. "Ah, I see. Well, the snacks are this way, but no eating too much, okay? I need Penelope to cheer for me later, not fall asleep!"

"I’m gonna cheer for Yn’s dad too!" Penelope said proudly, looking at Yn.

"Me too!" Yn added, squeezing Penelope’s hand.

Max ruffled Penelope's hair, a rare, tender smile on his face. "Good girls. Now go on, and don’t cause too much trouble."

---

The next stop on their grand paddock adventure was Fernando’s garage. The two girls peeked in cautiously before scampering inside. Fernando was sitting on a stool, studying data on a screen, but the moment he saw the two tiny intruders, his face lit up.

"Ah, mis pequeñas amigas!" Fernando exclaimed, opening his arms wide.

Yn ran straight to him, throwing her arms around his leg. "Papa! We’re having the best day ever!"

Fernando chuckled, scooping Yn up onto his lap. "I can see that. And Penelope, are you taking good care of my little one?"

Penelope nodded solemnly. "Of course. We’re best friends!"

"Bestest friends!" Yn echoed, reaching out to hold Penelope’s hand again.

Fernando looked at them with soft eyes. "You know, seeing you two like this reminds me of why we do all this. It’s not just about winning—it’s about family and having fun."

"Does that mean you’ll let us ride your car next time?" Penelope asked, her face completely serious.

Fernando laughed heartily. "Not quite, pequeña, but maybe one day."

---

As the day wore on, Yn and Penelope found new ways to entertain themselves. They drew with chalk on the pavement, leaving colorful hearts and stars for everyone to see. They played hide-and-seek around the motorhomes, with Lando and George willingly pretending not to see their bright clothes sticking out from behind crates.

At one point, the two girls sat on a patch of grass, sharing a juice box they had "borrowed" from the hospitality.

"Do you think we’ll ever drive like our dads?" Yn asked, her face thoughtful.

Penelope tilted her head. "I think so. But only if the cars are purple and pink."

Yn nodded solemnly. "Definitely."

---

By the time the sun began to set, the paddock had grown quieter, but the two girls were still full of energy. They convinced Max and Fernando to sit down with them for one last activity: a tea party.

Fernando looked hilariously out of place, holding a tiny plastic teacup between his large fingers, while Max did his best to balance a tiara Penelope had insisted he wear.

"More tea, sir?" Yn asked in an exaggerated posh accent, holding out an empty teapot.

"Why, thank you, madam," Fernando replied, playing along with a dramatic bow of his head.

Max sighed, though he couldn’t hide his grin. "This tea is excellent, Penelope. Did you make it yourself?"

Penelope giggled. "It’s pretend, Papa!"

"Ah, of course," Max said, nodding seriously.

---

As the day came to an end, Yn and Penelope finally started to tire, their eyes drooping as they sat on a bench together, wrapped in a shared blanket.

Fernando and Max watched from a distance, their competitive natures completely set aside as they admired their daughters.

"They really are something, aren’t they?" Fernando said quietly.

Max nodded, a rare softness in his gaze. "Yeah. Makes you realize what really matters."

The two girls held hands even in their sleep, their innocent friendship a bright light in the often chaotic world of Formula 1.

[amazinglyashy]

Everybody at the bar getting tipsy!

LaDS men dragging you home after an over-indulgent evening out

Rafayel -

It was mostly his own fault.

He left you alone at one of his exhibits, when there was a dessert buffet and an open bar.

In his defense, he was so sure you would be too focused on the dessert buffet to even notice there was alcohol available, much less spend enough time over there to overdo it. But just his luck, turns out one of your old college friends was attending the gala, and you'd gotten swept up in the chatter.

He will leave his own party early just to get you home safely, but he is struggling. He had to pick you up to get you down the front steps of the gallery in order to get to the valet and his car, but you're squirming so badly, he's afraid he's going to drop you at this rate.

He manages to get you seated and buckled, but he is somewhat regretting not locating a bag or something for you before making it this far. He can't exactly leave you, so he just hopes your drinks and sweets won't make a reappearance on his car upholstery.

(He won't be mad or mean to you if it does, though. He knows you can't control it in this state.)

He has to try and guide you once the two of you make it home, so that he can prevent you from stumbling, get you water, and keep his hands hovering near you as you attempt to dance to nothing- all at the same time.

He'll make comments under his breath about your current state, just to keep his sanity. He's actually pretty worried about you, even though you're safe alone with him and this has happened before. It could happen another hundred times, and his reaction would still be the same.

Lord, he hopes you don't have a hangover tomorrow.

Sylus -

You had made the mistake of trying to drink the same thing Sylus was while helping him on a job.

It does not matter how much of a heavyweight you are when it comes to drinking. Regardless, Sylus can handle more. And that is where you screwed up.

The hit hurt going down, but it took a moment to start taking effect. In that time, you had grabbed a glass of wine to carry with you in addition, sipping on it as you spoke to other people around you, trying to gather intel as best as you could.

While it didn't have much alcohol content, it was still enough to help push you closer to the edge, and Sylus notices immediately.

He's making an excuse and ushering you out the door faster than you can say goodbye to whoever you had been conversing with, the fear of you spilling any important information or getting wrapped up with the wrong person noticing your state of inebriation stronger than his need to finish the mission right now.

His evol makes it easy to keep you upright on his bike as he drives you home, and luckily his main residence is close by, so he doesn't risk you blowing chunks on his back while behind him.

He will make sure you're drinking water and eating something small, but it becomes a bit difficult with you in your pajamas, clinging to him and nuzzling him, thanking him for taking you home and out of those ridiculously stuffy clothes.

When you're sober, he will show you a video of you snuggling against his arm, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth as he watches your eyes widen.

"Not beating the 'couple' allegations anymore, kitten."

Xavier -

There is one problem.

That problem is Xavier is also drunk.

The two of you had gone to the bar together with some coworkers after a long day, and had been foolish enough to stay out long after the rest of the group had decided to go home.

It had made for great conversation, but that same conversation had distracted the two of you from just how much you were both drinking. Now, you were balancing against each other as you tried to walk home.

It had to be quite the sight- two people stumbling home under the street lights, still in Hunter uniforms, but one was barefoot and holding a pair of slight heels, while the other was wearing shoes too big for their feet.

You couldn't help it! Your feet had hurt so bad in your work shoes, apparently now that you were extra sensitive from drinking. And Xavier was always such a gentleman, you couldn't stop yourself from mentioning it to him-

The walk is uneventful, no one would dare try and mess with two seasoned Hunters, even if they weren't currently in their right minds.

Once you're both home, the two of you are slurring through an argument as you try to get the other to drink water, bickering about who's the 'sober' one.

The answer is neither.

You both end up asleep on the couch together, and bonking your heads together upon waking up is not going to do wonders for either of your hangovers.

Thank goodness it's the weekend...

Zayne -

He didn't even mean to find you, walking by the bar you were in on his way back from picking up some pastries he had been craving, before the bakery closed for the evening. The only available parking had been just past the bar, and he had walked by the first time, hearing your cheerful, drunken shouts, not recognizing it the first time.

He recognized your voice on his way back though.

"Who's that idiot singing?"

"Oh, it's my idiot-"

He is slightly perturbed to be standing surrounded by drunken Hunters who had gone out together for some fun that night, singing around him and his little blue box of pastries.

He lets you all finish your song, before calmly taking your arm and dragging you out of the building, thanking the group for taking good care of you as you shout protests of being kidnapped by a mad doctor.

He has to wrestle the seatbelt on you after he gets you to sit in his passenger seat, and you will not be hearing the end of this once you're sober. He's had plenty of practice with unruly patients at the hospital, but this was just too much.

It was really hard trying to get you safely into his car when he was trying extremely hard not to laugh at your babbling and slurring protests at him, broken up by occasional song chorus.

What song? He had no idea.

But he was taking you to his place if this was the state you were going to be in. He didn't want to risk you getting hurt unsupervised.

That, and he wanted to hear more of your wonderful drunken singing voice.

[xo100]

Collisions and connections - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: While mountain biking in Germany with friends, you accidentally fall and cause none other than Lando Norris to crash into you. Though he's frustrated at first, the tension quickly turns into playful banter as you ride together. By the end of the day, Lando invites you to go karting with him, leaving you with an unexpected, flirty connection.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2535

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

Germany was always on your friend group’s list of adventure destinations, and today was no exception. The sky was a vibrant blue, with a scattering of white clouds drifting lazily above the dense woods. You had rented mountain bikes for the day, ready to tackle the scenic yet thrilling trails that cut through the forest. The air was filled with a crisp freshness that begged to be explored, and you and your friends were more than ready to answer the call.

After renting the bikes, you all gathered around the man who ran the rental service. He looked rugged, like someone who had spent countless days in the wilderness, and his experience showed. He gave a quick but detailed briefing on how to handle the trails, adjust the gears, and keep balance on uneven terrain. It all seemed straightforward, and the excitement in your group was palpable.

“Medium parkour it is, then!” your best friend, Mia, had announced with a grin, gesturing to the map of trails. It wasn’t the easiest route, but definitely manageable. A perfect mix of challenge and fun, with paths winding through the thick woods and just enough obstacles to keep things interesting.

So, there you were, cycling through the forest with the adrenaline pumping through your veins. The cool wind whipped past, making the trees blur as you sped through the trail. You were at the back, lagging a bit behind, but you didn't mind. You were enjoying the ride, taking in the sights, the sounds of nature mixed with the whirr of bike wheels over dirt and rocks.

Everything was going perfectly, until it wasn’t.

Out of nowhere, Mia slammed on her brakes ahead of you to avoid a tricky curve. You reacted instinctively, jamming your brakes hard, but it was too late. The sudden stop sent you flying, tumbling over your handlebars, and before you knew it, you were on the ground, tangled up in your bike. A dull pain shot through your leg, but it wasn’t unbearable. The worst part was the embarrassment. You tried to quickly untangle yourself, hoping no one had noticed—your friends were already too far ahead to hear the commotion.

But someone did notice.

Before you could fully recover, a loud thud sounded behind you. The weight of another body landed just inches away, and when you looked up, you were met with the sight of a guy sprawled on the ground, his bike fallen to the side. His face was hidden beneath his helmet at first, but his groan of frustration was unmistakable.

“What the hell?” His voice was sharp, laced with irritation.

You scrambled to get up, wincing as you did, and turned to apologize. But when you saw who had fallen behind you, your heart nearly stopped.

Lando Norris. The Lando Norris, the Formula 1 driver. You’d recognize him anywhere, even with the helmet.

“Oh my God,” you stammered, eyes wide, “I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to—my friend, she just—“

He stood up, dusting himself off, and as he removed his helmet, his expression was nothing short of annoyed. His messy brown hair was slightly damp from the ride, and his hazel eyes met yours, sharp but surprised. He was about to say something, but then he paused, his anger seemingly dissipating as he took in the sight of you, flustered and apologetic.

“You—“ he started, but stopped, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“I didn’t either,” you admitted, wincing as you tried to stand. The fall had left you with a few scrapes, but you were mostly fine. “Are you okay?”

Lando glanced down at himself, and then at his bike. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit of a... surprise collision.”

You couldn't help but let out a small, nervous laugh, despite the situation. “I didn’t expect to cause a Formula 1 driver to crash. That's definitely not on my bucket list.”

His lips twitched at that, a faint smile appearing. “Well, at least it wasn’t in a car. That’d be much worse.”

Before you could respond, another voice cut through the scene. “Lando, mate, you alright?” A group of guys, his friends no doubt, appeared just behind him, all dressed in similar biking gear.

Lando waved them off. “Yeah, yeah. Just a little hiccup.”

One of them gave you a sympathetic look. “That looked like a rough fall. You alright?”

“I’ll survive,” you replied, still feeling a bit mortified.

Lando glanced at you, and there was something softer in his eyes now, like his frustration had melted away. “Need help with your bike?”

“I think I can manage,” you said, but as you tried to lift it, a sharp pain in your ankle made you wince.

Lando noticed immediately. “You sure? Looks like that fall did more than just bruise your pride.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, but there was a playfulness to his tone that eased your nerves. “Fine. Maybe a little help.”

He knelt down, making quick work of untangling the bike and helping you to your feet. As he steadied you, his hand lingered on your arm for just a moment longer than necessary. The warmth of his touch sent a little flutter through your stomach, and you couldn't help but feel a bit flustered under his gaze.

“There,” he said, standing back up. “Good as new. Well, almost.”

You laughed lightly. “Thanks. I’m really sorry again, though. I didn’t mean to ruin your ride.”

He shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips now. “Guess it wasn’t all your fault. These things happen, right?”

His friends, seeing the situation was under control, started riding off slowly, leaving you and Lando a bit of space. He glanced back at them before turning to you again. “You sure you're okay to keep going?”

You tested your ankle, wincing a little but feeling mostly fine. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. Just might take it slower from here.”

Lando raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? Because I’m already going slow, and you still managed to take me down.”

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes now, and you felt your cheeks heat up slightly.

“Hey! You were the one right behind me,” you shot back, smiling. “Maybe you're not as fast off the track as you think.”

He laughed at that, a real, genuine laugh that made the tension between you fade completely. “Alright, I’ll give you that one.”

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence, the sounds of the forest surrounding you. You could hear your friends further down the trail, but for some reason, you weren’t in a rush to catch up.

Lando tilted his head slightly, studying you. “So, what brings you and your friends out here? Just looking for some adrenaline?”

“Yeah, pretty much. We’re always up for an adventure,” you replied, leaning against your bike. “And Germany seemed like a good place to do that.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Good choice. Though, maybe next time, avoid taking out unsuspecting riders.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. “Noted.”

There was something easy about being around him now, even though moments before, you had been sure he’d be furious. But Lando was clearly the kind of guy who didn’t let things like this get to him for long. In fact, now that the initial shock had worn off, it seemed like he was enjoying the banter as much as you were.

“Well,” he said, glancing down the trail, “if you need someone to keep an eye on you so you don’t wipe out again, I’m happy to volunteer.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what’s in it for you?”

He grinned. “I get to say I saved the girl who made me crash.”

“Saved me, huh? Pretty sure I would’ve been fine without you.”

He leaned in just slightly, his smile turning a bit more teasing. “Maybe. But where’s the fun in that?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the subtle flirtation, and you found yourself grinning back. “Alright, Norris. Try to keep up.”

With that, you pushed off, slowly starting down the trail again. And this time, when Lando followed, he stayed right beside you.

-

Lando stayed close by your side as you both navigated the trail at a slower pace. The tension from your earlier crash had dissolved completely, leaving behind an unexpected sense of ease between the two of you. It felt strange, like you had known him longer than just a few moments. You had expected some awkwardness, given that he was famous and you had, quite literally, knocked him off his bike. But instead, the playful banter flowed effortlessly, and you couldn't help but enjoy it.

“So,” Lando said, breaking the silence as you both rode through a section of the forest bathed in dappled sunlight, “is this what you and your friends do on a regular basis? Traveling the world, causing accidents?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, not usually. We're always up for an adventure, though. This time, it just happened to involve bikes... and, well, unplanned collisions.”

“Right,” he replied, his voice laced with teasing. “I’d say it’s a memorable introduction.”

You looked over at him, catching the smirk on his face. “Is that your way of saying you’re not mad about it anymore?”

He shrugged playfully. “I mean, it’s hard to stay mad when you’ve got someone as charming as you apologizing.”

You shot him a look, pretending to be skeptical. “Charming, huh? I’m sure you say that to all the girls who make you fall off your bike.”

His grin widened, and he slowed his pace to match yours as you hit a steeper incline. “No, just the ones who make me laugh afterward.”

Your heart fluttered slightly at the compliment, and you couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. It was a bit surreal to be here, biking through the German woods with Lando Norris—flirting, no less. But as surprising as it was, it also felt strangely natural.

You reached a flat part of the trail, and Lando nudged his bike a little closer to yours. “I never caught your name, by the way,” he said, glancing sideways at you.

“It’s y/n,” you replied, looking over at him. “And you’re Lando. Not that you need an introduction.”

He chuckled. “I figured you knew that part. But hey, I like hearing it from you.”

There was a brief pause as the two of you continued, and you noticed the distant sound of your friends’ voices up ahead. You probably should’ve been catching up, but the longer you rode alongside Lando, the less you cared about rushing back to your group. The trail wasn’t too crowded at this point, giving you and Lando plenty of space to continue at your own pace.

“So, what’s next for you and your adventure squad?” Lando asked, throwing a glance toward the path ahead. “More mountain biking, or something less... crash-prone?”

“Definitely not mountain biking again,” you joked, laughing. “At least not for a while. I think after this, we’re headed to Berlin. You know, something more touristy, less likely to involve hospital visits.”

He laughed along with you, shaking his head. “Probably a smart move. Though, if you want to keep the adventure going, I’ve got some suggestions.”

“Oh yeah?” You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Like what?”

“Well, you seem like the type who’d be into karting,” he said, a playful spark in his eyes. “And I just happen to know my way around a kart track.”

You gave him an exaggerated look of surprise. “Wow, what a coincidence! I bet you’re really fast too, huh?”

He grinned, leaning a little closer as you both slowed down again. “I’ve been known to have a bit of speed. Think you could keep up?”

You pretended to think it over. “Maybe. Or, I’ll just make you crash again.”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe your audacity. “You’re ruthless, aren’t you?”

“Only when necessary,” you shot back with a grin, feeling the easy warmth between you both growing with each playful exchange.

The two of you rode in comfortable silence for a few minutes after that, the trees and sunlight providing a calming backdrop. You could hear the birds chirping and the wind rustling through the leaves, and for a moment, it was just you and Lando, side by side, enjoying the simplicity of the ride.

Eventually, though, the voices of your friends grew louder, and you spotted them waiting at a clearing up ahead. Mia waved when she saw you, her expression a mix of concern and relief.

“There you are!” she called out as you approached. “We were about to come back and look for you!”

You smiled sheepishly as you stopped beside them. “Yeah, sorry. I, uh, had a bit of a fall.”

Lando, who had pulled up beside you, shot Mia a look. “More like she caused me to fall.”

Mia’s eyes widened in recognition as she took in who was standing next to you. “Wait... are you—?”

“Lando Norris,” he confirmed with a small smirk. “Long story, but yeah, she took me out on the trail.”

Mia’s jaw dropped, and your other friends looked equally stunned. But before anyone could freak out too much, Lando waved it off. “It’s all good. We both survived.”

You laughed, giving your friends a reassuring nod. “Yeah, no major injuries. Just a little pride lost.”

“Wow,” Mia muttered, still processing everything. “This is insane.”

Lando just grinned, glancing over at you. “It’s been... interesting, for sure.”

As your friends began gathering their things, preparing to head off again, Lando turned to you, his voice lowering slightly. “Hey, before you go...”

You looked up at him, curious. “Yeah?”

“How about that karting I mentioned?” His eyes twinkled with that same playful glint. “I’m sticking around in Germany for a few more days. I could give you a proper lesson—on a track, where we won’t crash.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion, and you couldn’t help but smile. “You really want me to embarrass myself again, don’t you?”

Lando shook his head, his smile widening. “No, I just want to see if you can keep up this time.”

You bit your lip, considering it for a moment. “Alright, fine. You’re on.”

His grin was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he stepped back, ready to rejoin his own group. “I’ll find a way to contact you,” he said, flashing one last look over his shoulder as he rode off. “Don’t think you’re getting out of it.”

You watched him disappear down the trail, a mix of excitement and disbelief swirling inside you. Meeting Lando Norris had been completely unexpected, but now, the thought of seeing him again—this time on a kart track—was even more thrilling.

Your friends were buzzing with questions and comments as you all started riding again, but your mind kept drifting back to Lando. You had started the day thinking it would be just another adventure with your friends, but somehow, it had turned into something even better.

And if you were lucky, it was only the beginning.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

[nouearth]

nsfw alphabet w/ bruce wayne.

bruce wayne x male reader.

a/n: something new i've been meaning to try, so thank you for this request for finally pushing me to do so!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

we all know bruce is a busy man. it's an unfortunate norm to wake up in the morning to his side of the bed and see nothing but the wrinkles of the bed sheets that once warmed his body; to visit him at work because he forgot lunch (again) and wait in his office because he was currently in another meeting; to watch him with exhaustion and worry in the night while he scans through evidence files regarding a new criminal case.

in short, it's exhausting to even think about putting yourself in his shoes, and bruce wonders how you managed to stay with him for so long. it's not his fault, though, and you tell him that through sweet whispers in his ears when he's feeling down, through a simple doting embrace when he falls asleep during the rare occurrence you two could watch a movie together. and he's grateful to have someone like you.

whenever you two had sex, bruce would make sure he took his time with you. he doesn't stop until his body is spent, until your body is wrecked from the love and lust he has for you, and when you two finally finish after a series of rounds, he holds you close. breathing, panting—floating because he lost count in how many times he had come in your wrecked hole.

he spoons you, your back to his sweaty chest, refusing to pull himself out of your hole (at least until his cock goes limp), and he likes having his palm over your own chest to remind him that you're still here. your heart runs an electrifying marathon, then slowly comes to a calming jog because he adores your body, caressing and allowing his hands to roam free wherever he pleases. he loves feeling every tremor your body would retrieve as he dozed you off with a slurry of languid kisses across your nape, then the melt of your muscles the closer he holds you, and when you've fallen asleep and let slumber press your full weight into him, he does the same—because you're safe now.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

not to sound like a pervert, but bruce really loves your thighs. whether they were exposed in those shorts you like to wear inside the manor or deliciously full and contained in those dress pants he brought for you; he always had his hand on your lap. whenever he needed your attention and you were sitting next to him, he would squeeze your thigh because you were ticklish there. whenever you two went out to eat, he preferred sitting next to you because your thigh was the toastiest furnace for his hand. he just liked how... complex your thighs were. soft and malleable to touch yet toned and firm when he suckled on the flesh. not to mention, they were the perfect handles whenever bruce went down on your cock and sucked you off.

for bruce, he's quite proud of his shoulders. they've always been broad since he was younger, but with intense training, they've only gotten larger and broader since then. and he's glad that he isn't alone in this inclination. whenever bruce was stressed, you'd massage his shoulders until he snapped out of his migraine and turned to thank your presence with a kiss. and of course, bruce's shoulders weren't for purely aesthetics. they were also extremely useful, practically acting as your own bike handles, as you rode his cock. they provided you balance and leverage as you worked a sweat on riding out his orgasm inside of you, until your ass was thickly filled with his warm seed. and even that, that doesn't stop you from stopping and milking him out.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

god, when it came to you, he is obsessed with your cum. he's completely enthralled how much cum could come out of you simply from him fucking you, and it was why he preferred you riding him, or at least on his lap, so he could have the best view of your cock spitting out thick loads of cum and fuck, splash zone much? he loved how warm it was when you would spray across his face, even his face at times as he proceeded to fuck you harder. and knowing that it would make you blush and whine, he loved scooping your cum up off his body and tasting you. nowhere near sweet like fantasies have endorsed, but perfectly and deliciously edible on his tongue, to the point where he makes sure he'll be sucking you off clean before you doze off.

for bruce, he loves the sight of his cum anywhere on your body. in your ass, on your back, between your thighs, every place imaginable was a turn on. but if he had to pick, fuck... coming on your face was a true delight that would beckon him for another round simply from watching your features get layered and layered with his thick loads. it was dirty, erotic, and demeaning, especially as you waited for his loads on your knees, but fuck—he couldn't get enough of it. he couldn't get enough of decorating you in his own musk.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

it's all about taking control for bruce. whether it's him as the caped crusader or him in bed, bruce likes being treated as someone respectable, someone with honor, someone with authority. and when it came to you, he likes being called sir.

on some occasions, it would be your secret code for him if you were horny and needed to go somewhere private with him in public.

feeling a little famished, sir. hm? couldn't quite hear you. sir, i said i'm feeling famished. now get in the bathroom before someone takes— okay, okay! geez.

on many occasions, bruce would use it to his advantage and tease you in bed. the tip of his cock would barely graze your pucker, tracing and circling the tender flesh with a covet for your begging. c'mon, tell me what you want. use the right words. f-fuck, please. i n-need your cock, sir. louder. i need you to speak clearly. sir! please! sir! i need you cock!

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

they weren't wrong when the media labelled him as a 'playboy'. although, he had definitely settled down by the time he met you; earlier on, it was nonstop hook-ups with majorly women. for men, he'd leave it at blowjobs and nothing more. but hey, despite his inexperience with men, a hole was a hole, right? as long as it took his cock without any pushback, there was no complaint! besides, there was little difference in pleasuring women and men. he even found it exciting to learn from you, to learn with you, in how to give each other the best pleasurable one could offer.

you could proudly boast that you were the first one to put a finger in bruce's ass. and perhaps, convince him to put something else inside of him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

it's already been mentioned before, but bruce loves having you on his lap. not because of laziness or anything, but he truly loves your body and how incredibly vulnerable it had become as you fuck yourself on his cock. it was a culmination of your body putting on a performance for him and showing off his favorite parts about you, exposing it and further enticing bruce to do whatever he wanted to you, with every single bounce.

the bounce of your cock and pecs in rhythm with your hips, fucking yourself down on his cock; the droplets of sweat covering your skin in a greasy yet glorious sheen that could make him cream inside of you right then and there; the change in your expressions whenever bruce began fucking up into you instead, meeting your own hips in a steady and quick pace. his arms hurt from straining his own weight, but fuck was it worth it when you came all over him in thick, long spurts.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

bruce isn't usually humorous in bed. rather, he finds enjoyment in teasing you through a mixture of his demands and his actions. what always worked was pulling his cock out until only the plump tip was nearing its exit, and he always found amusement in how quick desperation came to possess your body and thoughts as you'd wiggle your ass back in attempt to shove him back inside.

mm-mm, what's the word? p-please, sir!

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

since you've known bruce, he had always maintained a very tidy and orderly appearance, probably because he was constantly in the spotlight since he was a kid, and his groin completely mirrored that upbringing. rather than completely going bare, he likes leaving enough hair to provide you a preview of what's to come after the first few centimeters of trimmed hairs—an appetizer before the main course, he reckoned.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

with how much work and his second persona has taken over his life, that left little time with you, and he feels absolutely guilty about it. it depends on the mood, but whether you two were engaged in rough or vanilla sex, bruce made sure to stick close to you. lace his fingers into between yours, have his mouth on your body at all times, mark you and kiss you wherever he hadn't, remind you how much he missed you, how much he loved you, how you were only his. fuck, he was possessive, and you found that incredibly romantic as much as it was suffocating at times. he made sure you praise you, to remind you how beautiful you looked taking his cock like this.

and before he falls asleep, he'd always whisper in your ear that he loves you, even if slumber had already taken you as hostage and stripped you away from the comfort of his assurance.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

bruce tries his best from jacking off, especially since he knows how much more gratifying it is to have you clench around him; to have you on your knees and swallow his cock down. but fuck, you were a tease. you loved sending him thirst traps whenever you knew he would be swamped up in a day full of meetings, and you knew you'd successfully infiltrated his mind when he would dislike your message with a thumbs down.

though, thanks to bruce sending you countless videos of him rubbing himself through his pants, you were left with little imagination on how bruce was spending his short break.

bruce has never been so thankful for you in his life. it took some convincing to get bruce on board with filming himself fucking you. and ever since then, bruce no longer had to rely on the memories of your warm touch, of your sweaty scent, of your whimpers as he blue-balled himself in his office.

right then and there, he'd whip his cock out from the zipper of his pants, and jacked off to the most recent video between you and him on his phone. and not to toot his own horn, but fuck was bruce a great director. up-close shots of your body, glistening under a layer of your own hot sweat, followed by thick droplets from bruce's. the flash on his phone made it so much more erotic, like an amateur porno, as it would focus on his cock driving deep into your ass from his perspective, his groans rumbling intimately over the speakers. bruce's abdominal muscles would flex and his core would engage as he mustered another strength to power through exhaustion, fueled by your begs and whimpers for him to fuck you harder, and fuck, it was better than porn. to recount and watch how he wrecked you that night made him bust multiple thick loads, and unfortunately soil his pristine suit.

to which, you'd most definitely pay for, one way or another, when he gets home from work.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

remember when i mentioned bruce liked having control? well, that definitely comes into effect when he's rough-housing you. only if you're in the mood of course (and you were always in the mood), but there's something so gratifying to him when he has his hand around your neck, your skin blooming under the warmth, squeezing harder and harder as he's fucking you into the bed. being rough with you also goes hand-in-hand with his praise kink, singing you low and sweet affections in your ear while you're taking his cock like you've always meant to.

that's it, fuck. good boy. like that? you like that?fuck, your sweet hole loves that.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

he'd love to be more experimental, but unfortunately that has to account for his schedule and for the most part, you two mostly have sex in bed. if not, it was a little quickie in his office. which isn't bad, but the idea of his temptation wearing his patience thin and just absolutely ravishing you in his car, or in a bathroom some place, had run through his mind multiple times.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

as much as bruce knew that you dreaded it, there was a reason why he insisted on you coming to his charity galas. it was those god-damn suits he'd buy for you and it would be the only time he'd think to himself that the money was well-spent, if it even mattered to him.

bruce, i don't think i need another suit. what's wrong with the ones you got me two years ago?

out of style, out of season. see, i told you there's a reason why we don't follow trends.

it was distracting. it was the rare times where you'd look completely different from your normal self. your hair in a different style. your suit tailored according to your build. your confidence covertly reviving because you didn't want to admit that you actually really liked looking like this. your forearms breaching free when you rolled up your sleeves, and fuck, it was so seductive. if bruce hadn't dressed you and helped out with the styling, he'd assume you'd come from old money.

sometimes he'd regret it because all eyes were on you, on bruce's man, and it was a complete nuisance dealing with drunk patrons attempt to flirt with you as if you could even understand anything they were saying with their limp tongue in the way of their speech.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do)

listen, bruce is down for anything, but he doesn't exactly get wax play. maybe he's been almost set on fire too many times to count, but the idea of accidentally burning your skin because he poured too much or something makes him freak out. it was more about the discomfort regarding your safety, than his overall distaste for it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill,)

bruce doesn't admit it, but in your words, he's pretty selfish. not in a bad way because he always makes it up to you afterwards, but it was the control thing coming to play again. you suck him off first, and then he'll reward you with his own mouth if it was deemed worthy enough (you know it's a bluff, but it's always fun to play along).

he loves seeing you take his cock. it feels like almost every other day where you're down on your knees and sucking him off, and he hasn't gotten tired of it yet. you know where his cock like no one else, know where he was the most sensitive, how he liked it sloppy and dripping from your spit. it was a fucking turn on to see you so devoted to pleasuring him.

for giving, he's better at rimming than giving you blowjobs. for the most part, he hates that gagging feeling whenever he barely took his cock in your mouth, and you'd always tease him for it, making him blush profusely. he's never been bad at something, even if you don't say it, so he makes it up in devouring your ass like it's been a week since he's had proper food. like your blowjobs, he likes having you dripping in spit, your musky hole wet and tender from the amount of turns he's had licking and fucking you with his tongue. and the way you pushed your ass out and arched into the back as he buried his nose in between your cheeks discovered a new kink of his: asphyxiation.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

for the most part, it depends on his mood and energy. if it was a stressful day, he expects you to let him wreck your body until it was spent and pliant beneath him. to properly get him off, he needed the most lewd sounds to come out of your mouth; the writhe in your body because he got a little carried away at first but you then slowly adjusted yourself to; the friction of the sheets burning at his knees; he needed you hard and your body was going to feel the consequences the next morning. and then there are days where bruce wants to take his time with you, worship your body with the hands you would always hold onto whenever you felt at unease; with the mouth you would always latch onto with your own whenever you needed to renew vitality; with his body you would always safeguarded yourself in no matter how you were feeling because you knew bruce never failed to protect you. his thrusts would slow, languid but never lazy as he liked keeping you on your toes and hitting you at the deepest spot with a sudden rut, and then measured again as he pulled himself out, watching his cock throb and watching your hole take all of his love in with no objection.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often)

quickies were never as satisfying as the time fully spent with you, but it got the job done. usually on days where he was the most stressed and needed to let something out, he'd call you over to the office for lunch and where you were expecting to eat your steamy leftovers with him, you ended up bent over his office desk, naked from the waist below, taking bruce's frustration up for the day. not that you were complaining, though. he always extended his lunch to properly eat with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks)

bruce is pretty content with his sex life with you. if you mentioned something about a new kink or wanting to experiment, he'd take up the entire night or two researching up about it, studying it methodically to ensure nothing wrong can happen and how to handle the situation if it does.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

the man can go all night, have you seen his training regime? and the best part is? you let him have his way with you with multiple rounds despite usually being the one to cum first, and it would be a norm to have you coming again in the same night.

T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them?)

he owns very little toys, no other reason being than bruce wanting you to rely on his dick for pleasure only. he wants you dependent on it, so there's a pretty big chance you might offend him if you suggest a phallic-type toy.

why the hell do you want a dragon dildo?! fifteen inches?!?! jesus christ—am i not big enough or something?!

what—no! didn't you say you liked seeing me struggle?! if anything, it's for YOUR own pleasure, bud. geez...

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

bruce loves teasing you. to be honest, who in the world doesn't love teasing their partner? it's adorable to see you try to squirm away from him when he's hugging you from behind while you're doing whatever and kissing the shell of your ear, then slipping his hand down your pants to feel how hard your dick had gotten from the most minuscule action. and fuck, when he throws in a little verbal play to remind you about how your dick is his and no one else's; you'd be thinking about it for the rest of the day, at least until bruce left for work and you were back onto his bed, sprawled out and whimpering as you spilled multiple loads over your tummy.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

there's something extremely sexy in a way that bruce tries to contain his volume through gritted teeth. it was intimate the way lust unveiled himself. hushed groans in your ear, biting into your earlobe then neck to keep himself from moaning out loud, and fuck, he'd tremble from how much pleasure you were giving him. it would be reflected through his breaths, ruptured as he panted in your mouth during a kiss.

and you were so fucking proud when the moment he disposed a load inside of you, he couldn't help but gush out a deep, guttural moan from within, one that would shake you to your core, and possessed you to spill your own load simply from the sound of his relief.

W = Wild Card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

if bruce had all day with you, he'd want to spend it dry-humping you, specifically in suits. he saw it in a movie once, two men gyrating each other while one was on the other's lap, and it was even hotter than two nude men blowing each other off. and fuck, was he right. there was nothing more infuriating than seeking for pleasure that could be more gratifying. he'd angle his hips, you'd angle yours, and you two would rub, hump into each other's cocks, grind against one another with a steady rhythm while he stilled your head for an equally heavy make-out session. you'd beg for him to just take you right then and there, rip your clothes off and everything, but no. bruce doesn't and never does, and he persists, relieving your aching cock with his own until you two stain the inside of your dress pants, a deep and thick wet spot forming at the center of the trousers afterwards.

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

bruce would be above average, but definitely not hung like most people assume, and you liked that. it was perfectly fit for your body and most importantly, bruce knew how to utilize that thing. he dug deep, made sure you feel every inch, and fuck, his heavy balls holding his thick cum-loads were the cherry on top of your desires for him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

sex would be the first thing on his mind whenever bruce is stressed. maybe not so much when he's pummeling down criminals, but more so in his daily life where he's swamped in meetings and talking with shareholders. i mean, is it his fault that you looked so good frying up eggs this morning? you had absolutely no reason to, especially when sleep was still laced in your face.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

bruce has always been a nocturnal animal. even when you've fallen asleep first and nothing but the sounds around him were a droning brown noise specifically curated to lull him to sleep, he'd still remain awake for a while before falling asleep. there was too much on his mind, even if he had emptied it out inside of you. overwhelming thoughts came in as quick as they came out, and luckily, you were there to be the support he needed.

the soft snores of your slumber were evidence that you felt safe with him, a reminder that you were able to sleep like this because he did a fucking great job in keeping you away from danger, and he hoped it would remain that way as he snuggled into you, holding you close to his chest as if tomorrow could change the trajectory of fate.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[detroit-become-hurt]

Sweet Thing

So to kickstart this block again I'm regressing into old hyperfixations. So here's a fanfic I'm working on for The Lost Boys! I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Moving to Santa Carla was a sudden decision, but something about it just felt right. There was something about that place, calling you to it, you just didn't know what.

Or: you're drawn to Santa Carla cause you're the final mate of The Lost Boy's pack

I sighed heavily as I sat on a bench at the boardwalk. Santa Carla was fun for the first week upon moving here, but after that it sort of just lost its charm. It was the same routine of showing up to work at the little oddities shop between the chinese take out place and some other little resturant that served the greasiest burgers. It wasn’t a bad job, but it wasn’t always the busiest as there were other attractions to see that were much more interesting. The shop consisted of bad taxidermy, crystals, fake skulls (which a lot of people thought were real), and tarot cards/readings. It wasn’t a bad gig, just again, not the busiest. 

Tonight was my night off, and I really had no idea what to do. I decided sitting here was better than sitting at home, with even less to do. Deciding it was best to grab some food I stood up, making my way over towards the shop and the chinese place. Chinese sounded good for dinner. As I neared the resturant, I couldn’t help but notice a group of bikers loitering outside the shop. There was two blondes, rough housing with each other. A tall dark haired main leaned on the wall of the front of the shop, watching the two blondes wrestle. And finally, leaned against one of four bikes was a third blond, a cigarette balanced between his lips. His eyes flitted through the crowd, taking in faces, a dark look lurking behind them.

It wasn’t really of any concern to me seeing these four, Santa Carla was full of different types of people, and I’ve seen them around before at different places on the boardwalk. We never interacted before, but a cloud of trouble oozed off of them. I tried to keep to myself. 

Ordering my food I waited to the side for them to finish preparing it, tapping my foot lightly as I listened to the sounds around me. Rollercoasters whizzed by with screams that lasted mere seconds, loud carnival music and people chattering away. It was almost overwhelming, the sounds. But you grow used to it pretty fast. Finally my order was called, and I picked up the bag containing the food. Upon closer inspection I realized that they had gotten my order wrong…but it wasn’t worth arguing. They ended up giving me more than what I ordered, I wasn’t going to complain.

“Perhaps Sandra would want some of this…” I wondered out loud, thinking of my coworker who was currently working tonight. Deciding I would share my feast, I walked over to the shop, towards the group of four bikers. As I approached, I caught the attention of the blonde leaning against the bike. His eyes trailed up and down me slowly, sizing me up. “Um…excuse me. Could you move your bikes, so I can like…get inside the store.” I asked, trying to maintain eye contact.

“You want us…to move our bikes…so you can go inside?” He repeats back to me, and I instantly knew what he was doing.

“Yes. You, move bikes. I go, inside?” I throw back, raising an eyebrow. The banter between the two of us caught the attention of the other three. The second blonde with curled ringlets going down his back couldn’t help but snicker, flashing me a dangerous smile and a wink when I looked his way. “Really it would just be easier if you moved, so I don’t have to weave in and out of your guys bikes and risk knocking one over. So what’s it gonna be pretty boy?” I asked shifting weight on my feet.

The third blond, who’s hair was teased to high hell and back laughed loudly. “Aw come on sugar, if anyone’s pretty here it’s you.” He says wrapping an arm his friend with the ringlets. “Do we at least get to know your name?” 

“What’s your name? I’ve seen you guys around before.” I say chewing my lip. I really did not expect to get into such a conversation, but it seemed like there was no backing out now. “If I tell you my name, will you please move your bikes?” I throw in, hoping they would indeed do as I asked.

His grin widens, and he sauntered down the steps, wrapping his arm around me. The smell of aqua net hair spray and weed overtook my senes. “I’m Paul. That’s Marko, Dwayne, and David.” He says pointing each of them out. “And I…have definetly not seen you around here. Are you new?” he questions.

Slipping out of his arm I nod, “I’m y/n. And yes, I am new. I just moved here about a week and a half ago.” I say. “Now really, this is quite the lovely chat but I think I’m just gonna weave around the bikes. Sorry to bother you.”

David holds his hand up, stopping my movements. “Hang on there sweet thing, you didn’t give me a chance to answer. Since I am a man of my word, we will move our bikes.” It’s funny he says that, cause he never mentioned giving me his word. But oh well. “Come on boys, let’s get out of here. We’ll see you around y/n.” he gives me a smirk, again something hiding behind his expression as the other three revved their bikes to life. With hoots and hollers they revved the engines a few more times before taking off, nearly hitting me in the process.

“Fuckin assholes,” I mutter as my heart pounds in my chest. Finally walking up the steps I walk inside, “Sandra! It’s me! I brought some food, the chinese place messed up the order.” Walking to the counter I set the food down, taking it out and arranging it so we could easily grab what we wanted. 

Sandra comes out from the back, a yawn errupting from her lips. “Oh thank god, I was going to fall asleep back there. Hey, did you hear like, motocrycle sounds?” She asks as she grabs some food.

Between swallows I nod, “Yeah. Some bikers out front. I asked them to move, and it took a minute but they did. Who knew all I had to do was give them my name.” I say. “I got their names in return. David, Marko, Paul, Dwayne. Interesting group of guys. I’ve seen them around the boardwalk before.” 

Sandra freezes, looking up at me with wide eyes. “Y/n…please tell me you’re joking. Like say sike right now.” She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, anxiousness radiating into my bubble.

“What’s the big deal? They’re not trouble are they?” 

“Oh yes they’re trouble! They’re dangerous y/n. They’re always in trouble with security on the boardwalk, bothering people.” Sandra’s looking me dead in the eyes now, a look I can’t place. 

Finishing up my food I wipe my mouth, “Okay. I’ll keep my distance. Can’t blame me too much you know, I just moved here.” A part of me was annoyed. I appreciated her concern, but again I just moved here. And the boys seemed nice enough…although that doesn’t make up for the fact that I don’t know them.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just really like you and I don’t want you to end up on a missing person’s poster. It would suck to not have you in my life anymore.” That was one thing I was definetly grateful for, was my quick friendship with Sandra. She took me around, showed me the ropes, and was always there should I have needed anything in my short time in Santa Carla.

“Thank you, Sandra. Really.” Glancing at the clock on the wall I sighed, “I should probably get going, it’s getting late and I have to work a twelve hour tomorrow.” 

Sandra gives me a sympathetic look. “Well if you need anything, give me a holler okay? Seeya later!” Her voice disappears as the bell to the door chimes and I’m once again outside. Traffic has quieted quite a bit, not so loud. Turning I begin to make my way home, unaware of the set of eyes watching me from the dark.

I want her.

Me too.

She needs to be with us, one of us.

Soon, she will be. Give it time.

[nayaesworld]

11:11

Biker!Terry Richmond x Charlie

—

—

Friday was usually an extremely busy day at the diner, but as the day dragged on Charlie had only served her regulars and a few families passing through the small town. She was scheduled to work 3pm-12am today and had only gotten through two hours so far. Her favorite coworker was off so it was just a new girl named Dawn and the two night cooks Dj and Trey. The diner was empty once again and she sat quietly behind the counter on a stool, eyes running left to right as she read the new fantasy book from the library. Illustrations of a black witch uncovering the history of her ancestors occupied her head as she flipped page after page hungry for more. The local news station on the small flatscreen sent out an advisory for a thunderstorm that would be rolling in later that evening. That explained the gloomy skies and empty diner at least. Charlie and Dawn filled salt shakers and sorted the silverware,mugs, and glasses. And when they finished chatting about pop news and hair care routines, Charlie was warming up to the girl slowly and when she clocked out at 10:30 she actually had started to get bored without conversation.

Charlie balanced two cups of coffee and a large platter of flapjacks in her hands. Her favorite regulars, an older black couple in their 50’s that treated her like family more than her own father sometimes. The Leflore’s had welcomed her with open arms her first year at the diner. She reminded them of their late daughter Kamryn and she remembered vividly Tammy Lefore bawling her eyes out to her one day in the plush booths of the diner. Tammy and Aubrey typically came in later because they loved to help her get to the end of her shift and look out for her. Silver Creek was a small town and everyone knew everyone for the most part but crime had picked up in the last year and it wasn’t always safe after dark. She sat with them and they told her about their upcoming trip to Cozumel Mexico. They would be gone a week and Charlie pouted at the news, she loved seeing and talking to them but a whole week would be gray without them. But promises of souvenirs and gifts kept her sadness at bay.

They bid their see you laters and she watched their sleek white Cadillac truck pull out of the parking lot. And like clockwork the rain began to come down hard. She bussed her tables and secured her tips into her apron, she loved the rain, it was peaceful and serene on some days but nights like this one it was thunderous and loud. But above the heavy tinkling of the rain was a sound she was becoming acquainted with…the sound of that Sapphire black Bonneville Bobber. He came into the diner every night at 11:11 on the dot, how strange that she even remembered the growl of his bike when she hadn’t seen the man in at least a month. How even stranger it was that she felt eager to see him…he barely talked when he had been there in the past, just grumbling here and there before he ate his fill and left. She fingered her passion twist out of habit as her eyes watched him park his bike and job into the diner,built muscles bunched beneath his wet leather jacket as a mug hung on his stoic chiseled face. He shrugged out of the jacket and hung it on the coat rack near the door. She opened her mouth to greet him but her words got caught in her throat as he pulled out a chair from the bar top and sat directly in front of her.

���Hell my little dove..long time no see.” He extended his arm out, a singular red rose in his hand gifted from him to her. She pricked her thumb on a thorn and shook her hand at the slight pain, a tiny bead of blood falling down onto the counter. She excused herself before rushing to the back of the diner for a bandaid.

His hands tapped anxiously against the bartop, his eyes trying their best to not drop down and lay upon the tiny droplet of blood…the smell was intoxicating, and before he could stop himself his index finger had swiped the blood from the counter and sucked it into his mouth. This was the very reason he had chosen to stay away from the small town, he was afraid of what he might do, afraid of how he would appear to the pretty little waitress. He blinked and shook his head trying to get the black irises to go away, how would he explain the quick change from hazel eyes to black ones…it looked unnatural, unsafe even. When he was sure they had gone back to normal he lifted his head and surveyed his surroundings. Three humans, two males in the kitchen…and her.

When Charlie returned, finger smugly secured by a bandaid she quickly apologized before formally greeting the intriguing stranger whose name she still didn’t know.

“Don’t apologize for bleeding, that’s normal. I should have checked the rose for thorns, that was my fault. I’m Terry by the way.. nice to meet you Charlie.”

Before she could question how he knew her name she looked down at her name tag and giggled softly.

“Well it’s nice to formally meet you Terry, what will you be having tonight.” His knuckles rapped against the counter and he held her gaze.

“A glass of water is fine, I’m on a pretty strict diet at the moment..just came inside to get out of the rain before passing on.” She nodded before grabbing a clean glass and filling it to the brim with chilled water.

“Where are you heading..if you don’t mind me asking.?” She slid the glass of water over to him and watched as he held it up to his nose before drinking it.

“No where specific..might even hang around here for a while, it’s pretty damn scenic up here.”

“Now that I can agree with , it’s a small town but it has its perks. There’s something for everyone here.”

“And what’s here for you…what keeps you here?” The question was one she couldn’t say she’d ever been asked before. People rarely considered her likes and dislikes. Rarely asked her if she was ok.

“Outside of my family and friends, it’s the culture for me. So much damn history embedded into such a little town, so many stories of our people…how they settled here and how hard they had to fight to stay here.” He hummed and seemed genuinely pleased with her answer, gleaming grey blue eyes combing over every part of her face.

“Well aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine…I’d love learn more about the history of this place. It’s so…mystic.” There was that damn grumbling again.

“There’s a library in town not far from here the-“ The loud thud of Terry placing the glass down made Charlie jump.

“I want you to tell me. You are a native after all..I want it straight from the horse's mouth. You seem extremely knowledgeable and I’m very ignorant of your town, I'm afraid.” His eyes drew her in, made her feel fearless.

But she was still apprehensive…and yet she longed to put herself out there to try new things and enjoy new people. Handsome strangers were still strangers and she owned a gun. She could handle her own.

“Ok but under one condition. We take your super cool bike and we go Tuesday..deal?” He shook her extended hand. His thumb rubbing over the back side of her hand softly before she pulled her hand back.

“A deal I can live with little dove.” His bright smile made his eyes crinkle and Charlie found herself hoping to see more of it.

“Why do you call me that..little dove?” Every word he uttered to her made it seem as though he was all too familiar with her, she was curious.

“There’s an air of gentle peace and innocence that surrounds you..perhaps you don’t see it as others do.” Charlie had a hard time listening to people tell her that she was a good person,a good girl. They always used her own kindness and generosity against her. She knew that she could live her whole life by the book only ever doing right by people, and yet still be fucked over…a learning curve indeed.

“I the dove and you the crow I assume…Why the crows?”She gestured to the bold black ink against his honeyed skin enamored her. A beautifully crafted portrait that depicted a murder of crows. Probably the most creative tattoo sleeve she had ever seen.

“We’re taught that crows are scavengers that represent death. That their very presence should place fear in your heart because you or a loved one may be next to die.. but I have come to know these birds as signs of rebirth and cleansing. That they carry the DNA of every dead creature with them wherever they fly, somewhat keeping them alive forever.”

Wow. There was true beauty in an intellectual man. You didn’t see that too often around these parts. Charlie wanted to pick his brain for hours, to learn what interested him, and why he felt so damn intoxicating. But her fear of being perceived held back the many questions she had for the man.

“I like that, it’s poetic. It Means something to you, what a beautiful piece of art to walk with daily.” He thanked her graciously for allowing him to blab on and on about the tattoo telling her that others rarely asked of its meaning.

He inquired about the portraits of people that lined the wall behind her. Pictures of people old and young, from so many backgrounds, some taken inside and outside the diner. It gave the place character and that good ole fashioned charm that you couldn’t get in many places anymore.

“These are our customers, some of these pictures were here before me but all the new ones I’ve taken myself. Just a little ode to the people that keep this place open…if you’d like I could take yours also before we close up.”

By 11:40 Dj and Trey had shut down the kitchen and bid their goodnights. Charlie maneuvered around the diner wiping down tables and sweeping the floor. Terry had slipped away into the restroom to relieve himself before he left and Charlie was heading to the back office to retrieve the camera they used for photos. The rain had since stopped falling and she felt the perfect picture would be best with Terry outside near his bike. The aesthetics of the starry night sky and the shiny black bike would mesh well with his large bulky stature.

“You can loosen up a bit..maybe a big bright smile.” He cocked a thick brow at her and his face stayed unmoved and his bulky arms stayed crossed as he…posed?

Giggling to herself she put the camera up to her eye and snapped the first picture. But when she pulled the camera back from her eye, the only thing in the photo was his bike. The air around her felt cold and constricting. How was that even possible when he was standing right in front of her? She cleared her throat before lifting the camera back to her face. She was sure there was a logical explanation for this.

“Uh the camera was on the wrong setting let’s go again.” She blew cold air out of her nose before placing the camera back up to her face, left eye closed and right eye focused on the smirking man in front of her. The flash went off and it lit up his face..he had to have been on camera this time.

Charlie checked the camera again. A loud gasp leaving her mouth for the second time…he was nowhere in the picture. This was a joke right? Someone had touched the camera and was playing a prank on her. Heavy boots crunched under the gravel coming closer and closer. The tiny hairs on her arm began to raise and her heart thudded loudly in her chest. When he finally stood inches away from her the camera slipped from her fingers and onto the moist ground. Her neck craned to stare into the face of the man. Green eyes seemingly glowing as they captured hers. Every instinct in her was calling for her to run, to save herself from a dark fate. But it was as if she was stuck in place.

“Calm your heart little dove. I promise to never pluck a hair from your pretty little head..we have too much work to do. So much to uncover.” He placed a large hand over her chest,careful to not touch her breast. And let his odd eyes close and feel the rushing of her heart under his hand. He put that fear there.

“Please..I don’t want to die. You can take anything from the diner but please..please. I won’t tell anyone else about this I swear.” Tears fell now. People always made it seem as if death wasn’t anything to fear, that it would come quick and swift without a sound. But Charlie feared it..wasn’t ready for it..so soo much work left to do, so many things in life she had yet to accomplish.

“Nothing in that diner is as valuable as you are..it’s fine time you learned that little dove. It’s fine time you’ve learned your place in this world, I will guide you as you will me.” The hand on her chest was now on her shoulder. And Charlie was never good at riddles, never really liked them. But what did he mean?

“Terry, you don't know me. What makes you think you know anything about my whereabouts in this world…this is crazy talk. I don’t believe you.”

“Do you believe what you saw on your camera then? Is that the only deciding factor between real and fake? You should look harder..I was always in the picture, just not something your fear would let you decipher.” He squatted down to retrieve the camera and dusted the small chunks of mud that stuck to its lenses before placing it back in her hands.

A deep breath. What if she was going crazy, what if Terry had been in the picture the whole time. She was scared to click through the camera and see, but she felt compelled to do so. Click. The first picture..she grappled with what she was looking at. In Terry's place against his bike was a…a creature. Something tall and sinister. It’s green eyes looking directly into the camera, long claws gripping the handles of the bike..just as Terry had. The camera dropped to the ground once more and she took off running towards the diner. She yanked and pulled on the door and yet it was sealed shut, she knew she didn’t lock it she would never be that forgetful. But he was walking closer now, closing the space between them.

“If you come any closer I’ll shoot you. Step any closer and I will blow your damn head off!” Charlie’s back was against the locked doors and she watched the man advance forward not caring for her threat.

“That may have been true if it wasn’t behind the counter in your bag. I said I wasn’t going to hurt you. I only wanted to reveal my true self to you..you’re the first human I’ve shown myself to in 200 hundred years. I trust you.”

It was clear now. He was on drugs, hard ones. No human would be alive for 200 hundred years and as for him knowing the location of your bag..he had to have been snooping around the bar one day while you were preoccupied. This was all a big fucking joke and a waste of Charlie’s time.

“Terry, stop it. You’re human just like me. You eat AND drink just like me..made from flesh and bone just like me. Are you on drugs..if so there’s a really nice rehab center the next city over. They helped a family member of mine once.” Charlie was hell bent on proving to Terry that his line was just heavily deluded, he would be fine once those drugs left his system.

“If you were over 200 years old your heart wouldn’t beat..you wouldn't be standing here right now. See my heart beats and yours will do the same.” Charlie placed her hand to his chest and felt..nothing. She assumed it was faint but when she loved her hand and tried placing it directly on his heart. Still nothing. No beating, just hot skin.

“Why me Terry..you could have done this to anyone else why me. I don’t want to know this..whatever you are. You can’t trust me with this information..I’ll tell everyone.” Charlie knew she was bluffing. She knew even more that someone would label her crazy if she repeated anything from this night.

“You don’t believe that. In your heart you’ll do what’s right every time. Just trust me and I promise I will tell you everything Tuesday. But if you find yourself needing me before then use this. Your father will be here shortly, be safe little dove.” He handed her a small metal oval shaped object, incantations that would summon him were engraved around the edges. His tall form retreated and he hopped on his bike. He shot her a toothy grin before his face disappeared behind his helmet and she watched him until he disappeared into the distance.

Exhaustion gripped Charlie on the road home with her father. Her body was heavy and she felt like she’d worked a 24 hour shift as her eyes drooped and her clammy hands shook in her lap. Rest was what she needed. A hot shower, some tea and her bed but outside of the weariness she felt, her mind drifted to Terry over and over. The fear that gripped her tonight felt foreign, like her body had never felt that afraid her whole life. Would curiosity kill her just as it had done the cat? Or would she be spared by a force she couldn’t see.

They arrived home rather quickly. Her father Hank walked over to open her door and carry in her bags. She took her time stepping out of the car, limbs aching to be stretched and soothed by hot water. She sighed deeply and began walking up the steps of their home. But a loud caw stopped her in her tracks. A lone crow sat in the magnolia tree in her front yard. The shiny onyx feathers dancing with the moonlight and giving the bird a striking appearance. But this crow was no ordinary crow and as she stepped closer she realized its black beady eyes had been traded for green ones..familiar green eyes. It cawed once more at her before it bowed, extended a wing, and flew away. Leaving in its wake a dark feather that she took inside with her.

__

@zillasvilla @luvrsluxe @becauseimswagman1 @writingsbytee @venusincleo @blyffe @rawflwrs @1darknymph @thabiddie23 @tvchi @kenshisluvrgirl @alyssawritcs @ranikyani @23jammy @keehendrixx @ovohanna24 @grlsbstshot @yassbishimvintage @avoidthings @pocketsizedpanther @simplyzeeka @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @brattyfics @hotgrlcece @henneseyhoe @miyuhpapayuh @uzumaki-rebellion @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @notapradagurl7 @slvt4her

[orcelito]

Working on my new routine for the semester. Since nail care is something I've grown to care about in the time since I previously kept up with playing violin, I need to be pretty consistent with it. I can't have Any amount long nails on my left hand if I want to be able to keep my finger positioning good. It's best when the fingertip is straight down. You just can't have that with long nails.

When I was younger, I kept up with that demand by biting my nails. It was a bad, bad habit that lasted for a good long while. I think it was definitely encouraged bc of the need for short nails with violin, but the true cause of it was imperfections on my nails. I found a few years back that if I keep my nails filed smoothly, then I won't be tempted to bite them, no matter what length they are.

Which brings us to now. How to not fall back on my old habit of nail biting, but make sure my nails don't get too long for violin? And the answer... is to file them every weekend.

See, I've thought up a system. I also want to keep painting my nails, bc I rly love having painted nails, and So. On Friday or Saturday, after I'm done with classes for the week, I remove the week's polish and then file the nails short again. Then on Sunday (or, in the case of this weekend, Monday)(whatever the last day is before I go back to classes), I go and paint my nails again. I want to have at least a day between filing and painting to make sure that my nails settle fine and that there aren't any extra little imperfections I need to get at. Will hopefully also reduce the chances of me picking at the sides of my fingers (have not been able to get rid of this part of the habit) for any imperfections from the polish on recently filed nails.

I'm working on the filing right now. I'm finding that it's going faster than last week, at least. Which is good news!!! I probably had more than a week's worth of nail to file last week, so it took longer. But it's not as bad with only a week's worth. I could always trim them too, and that's what I'd usually do, but they really don't grow all that much in just a week's time. Can barely even get the clippers under the nails. I just need to file them back again. Make sure they don't get the chance to actually grow out.

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Call Sign: Heartline

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader, Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Maverick's daughter and Rooster grew up together, bound by their fathers’ legendary friendship and their own shared dreams of flying. When they both get accepted into the Top Gun program, it feels like destiny—until Hangman enters the picture. With his effortless charm and undeniable skill, he throws her world off balance, igniting a rivalry with Rooster that runs deeper than competition.

Maverick's daughter and Rooster had been inseparable since childhood. Their fathers had been best friends, and that bond had naturally extended to them. Growing up, they had spent endless summers racing dirt bikes, sneaking onto airstrips to watch jets take off, and dreaming about the day they’d follow in their fathers' footsteps. When they both got accepted into the Top Gun program, it felt like fate.

"We actually did it," Rooster had said that first night after finding out. He had grinned, his excitement barely contained. "We're gonna do this together. Just like we always planned."

And for a while, it was just like they imagined—training together, pushing each other, celebrating victories, and laughing over the losses. But everything changed when Hangman entered the picture.

The first time she met Hangman, she was completely charmed. He had that cocky smirk, that easy confidence that made it impossible not to take notice. He shook her hand firmly, looking her right in the eye as if he had already decided they were going to get along.

"Maverick’s kid, huh?" he had said, grinning. "Guess that means flying’s in your blood."

She arched a brow. "And you must be Hangman—the guy who thinks he’s God’s gift to naval aviation."

He let out a laugh, clearly delighted. "Damn right. And you must be the one who’s going to give me a run for my money."

Before she could respond, Rooster let out a scoff, shaking his head. "Don’t waste your time with him," he muttered. "He’s just another arrogant guy who thinks he’s better than everyone else."

She smirked, tilting her head as she glanced back at Hangman. "I don’t know, Rooster. I think he’s kinda cute."

Hangman shot Rooster a victorious grin while Rooster groaned, already regretting everything.

He was cocky, arrogant, and insufferably charming. And somehow, against all odds, Maverick’s daughter found herself drawn to him.

It started small—arguments laced with teasing, accidental touches that lingered too long, stolen glances when they thought no one was looking. It wasn’t until one night at the Hard Deck, when Hangman pulled her onto the dance floor, that Rooster really noticed.

The jukebox played something slow but playful, and Hangman wasted no time taking her hand and spinning her toward him. "C’mon, sweetheart. Can’t let all that fighter pilot training go to waste—show me what you’ve got."

She laughed, cheeks flushing, but let him lead, his hands steady on her waist as they swayed and twirled around the floor. Every move was smooth, effortless, as if he had done this a hundred times before. And with every step, every flirtatious grin, she felt herself slipping further into his orbit.

"You’re just showing off now," she teased.

Hangman smirked, leaning in just enough for his breath to brush her ear. "Wouldn’t dream of it. I just like making you blush."

She rolled her eyes, but the warmth spreading through her said otherwise. A giggle escaped before she could stop it, and Hangman’s expression softened at the sound.

From across the bar, Rooster’s stomach twisted as he watched them, her laughter echoing over the music as Hangman spun her around with practiced ease. He tried to ignore it, telling himself it was nothing. But when he saw the way she looked at Hangman—like he was something she couldn’t look away from—he knew it was something.

At first, Rooster told himself it would pass. That she was just caught up in the moment, in the thrill of competition. But then he overheard Coyote mentioning that she and Hangman had gone on a date, and everything inside him snapped.

That night, he found her on the airstrip, staring up at the stars.

"So," he started, voice tight. "You and Hangman."

She turned, eyebrows furrowing. "What about me and Hangman?"

Rooster exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I just—I need to know. Is this just a thing, or... is it something more?"

She hesitated, then exhaled shakily. "It’s not nothing... but I hope it can be."

He let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "I should’ve said something sooner. God, I should’ve said something years ago."

She blinked at him. "Said what?"

"That I love you," Rooster admitted, the words tasting foreign on his tongue. "That I’ve always loved you. And that no one will ever understand you like I do."

She inhaled sharply, but before she could respond, Rooster was already stepping back. "Just—just forget I said anything. I just needed you to know."

She took a step forward, as if to call after him, but the words caught in her throat. Her hands clenched at her sides, her mind spinning. How had she not seen this coming? Or maybe she had, and she just refused to face it.

But before he could walk away completely, she found her voice. "Rooster, wait."

He stopped, his shoulders tense, but he didn’t turn around.

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding. "If you wanted me so bad, why did you wait until I was in love with someone else?"

The words hung between them, heavy and raw. Rooster finally turned, his expression unreadable, but she barely registered it because the realization hit her like a jet breaking the sound barrier.

She was in love with Hangman.

She hadn’t known it until she said it out loud, until the truth formed and escaped her lips before she could stop it. And judging by the look on Rooster’s face, he knew it too.

It was too late.

Her breath was shaky as she turned back toward the airstrip, hugging herself against the cool night breeze. The weight of his confession pressed down on her, and suddenly, everything with Hangman felt... complicated.

The sound of approaching footsteps made her tense. Hangman.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

She swallowed hard, nodding, but when she met his eyes, she wasn’t sure she believed it herself. "Yeah. Just—just a lot to think about."

Hangman studied her for a long moment before nodding. "You wanna get out of here? Clear your head?"

She hesitated but eventually nodded. "Yeah. I think I do."

The next day, Rooster barely spoke to her. They were paired up for a training mission, but every time she tried to make conversation, he shut her out. His responses were clipped, his gaze distant. Finally, after another failed attempt, he turned to her, eyes cold. "You don't get to act like nothing happened. You chose him, so go fly with him."

She flinched at the sharpness of his words, the weight of his disappointment settling heavily in her chest. The Rooster she had always known, the one who had been by her side through everything, felt impossibly far away.

Flying together wasn’t the same. Their usual rhythm was off, their once effortless teamwork now strained. She could feel the tension in every maneuver, every second of radio silence between them. Then, in the middle of a high-intensity exercise, something went wrong.

Rooster’s jet malfunctioned.

"Rooster, you’re losing altitude!" she called through the comms, panic rising in her throat.

"Damn it, ejecting!" he responded just before the radio cut out.

Back at the base, chaos erupted as they lost contact with him. The rest of the squadron had returned, but Rooster was stranded, his jet down behind enemy lines in the exercise zone.

She didn’t think—she just moved. Racing toward the hangar, she threw on her helmet, ready to jump into a plane and go after him.

"Hey! Stop!" Maverick’s voice cut through the panic, his hand closing around her arm before she could climb into the cockpit. "You’re not going after him."

"I can’t just sit here!" she snapped, yanking against his grip. "He’s out there, alone!"

"And you going after him without a plan is just going to make it worse," Maverick said, his tone firm but not unkind. "I’ll go."

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod, but as she listened to her father take off, her fingers dug into her arms. Every second felt like an eternity as she paced near the comms, waiting for his voice to crackle through. Then, suddenly—silence.

The radio cut out.

Her breath hitched. "Dad? Dad, do you copy?"

Nothing.

A horrible, crushing weight settled in her chest as panic clawed up her throat. Her mind spiraled into the worst-case scenarios. First Rooster, now Maverick—both gone? It felt impossible, unbearable.

Hangman stood nearby, watching her, watching the way her body tensed like a wire about to snap. His expression shifted, his usual cocky smirk nowhere to be found. He had never seen her like this before—utterly wrecked, desperate, terrified.

And that was when he made his decision.

"Screw this," Hangman muttered, turning on his heel. "I’m going in."

Hangman launched into action, breaking protocol without hesitation. "I’m not leaving him behind," he had said simply before taking off.

By the time Hangman got to Rooster, the situation was grim. Rooster had landed safely, but his radio was down, and he was out of options. Hangman’s voice was the first thing Rooster heard in the static.

"Bradshaw, you still breathing down there?"

"About damn time, Seresin. You here to rescue me or gloat?"

"A little of both," Hangman quipped, relief laced in his tone. "Now, let’s get you out of here."

When they returned to base, she was the first one there, waiting on the tarmac. The second Rooster climbed out of the jet, she nearly collapsed with relief. But her gaze flicked to Hangman, who looked at her like he knew exactly what she was feeling.

She ran straight to Rooster.

"Are you okay?" she breathed, hands gripping his arms as if to make sure he was real, that he was actually standing in front of her.

Rooster let out a slow exhale, his eyes searching hers. "I'm alive, aren't I?"

Her throat tightened. "I thought I lost you. I thought I lost both of you."

His expression softened just a fraction, then he let out a breath. "You didn't. You could never lose me." His voice was quieter now, more certain. "But we need to talk. Because I can’t keep doing this if I don’t know where we stand."

Tears stung her eyes. "I know I have to earn your trust back. And I will, Rooster. I swear."

He studied her for a moment before nodding. "Then start now."

Without hesitation, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. Rooster stiffened for a brief second before exhaling, his arms coming around her just as tightly. She buried her face in his shoulder, breathing him in, grounding herself in the fact that he was here, alive, safe.

She squeezed his hands one last time before stepping back, inhaling deeply. With that, she turned and found her father, still pulling off his helmet. Without thinking, she ran to him next, throwing her arms around him.

"Dad—"

Maverick caught her, hugging her tightly. "I'm here. I'm okay."

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with watery eyes. "Dad, thank you. For going after him. For always coming back."

Maverick gave her a small smile, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I always will. I know how much he means to you. Which is why you have to do right by him."

She swallowed hard, blinking back tears. "I know, Dad. And I will. I just—I never wanted to hurt him. I never wanted to hurt any of you."

She buried her face against his shoulder, taking a moment to just breathe before she pulled away, wiping at her eyes. Finally, she turned to Hangman, who had been watching silently from a distance.

She walked up to him, her chest still heavy with emotion. "Thank you," she said softly. "For saving them—they're the two most important men in my life."

Hangman studied her for a moment, then let out a breath. "I get it. Rooster's always been there for you, and your dad—he’s your hero. I wasn’t trying to take their place."

She shook her head. "I know that. But because of you, I still have them. And that means I can finally let myself love the third most important man in my life."

His smirk was softer than usual, his green eyes filled with something deeper than confidence. "Then what are you waiting for?"

Before she could answer, he pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the ground as he spun her around. A breathless laugh escaped her, but before she could say anything, his lips were on hers. The kiss was deep, consuming, and filled with everything unspoken between them.

[deepak376]

3in1 Scooter Tricycle FUN for Kids!