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f10werfae · 1 year ago

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Daddy’s babies

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry x shy!mom!reader

summary: Daddy!Henry takes his babies to Disneyland and engages in some soft kissy sex with his baby bun (Dilf!Henry) (softdom!Henry)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+

Lumberjack Masterlist, Henry Masterlist

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“P-please daddy, we want to g-go, don’t we lovebugs?” Y/n cooed sitting on the floor of their living, her baby girl Iris nursing soundly on her breast, the soft suckling sounds and baby gurgles filling the room. Henry sitting behind her, his fingers playing with the loose straps of her vest, peeking over at the sight of his baby princess so close to her momma, his baby boy Beau sat on his boppy across from them; clearly milk drunk from his feeding.

Y/n had spent the past few days begging and begging her husband for a trip to Disneyworld, wanting nothing more than to take hundreds of pictures of her tiny tots in their costumes, buying them all sorts of souvenirs and of course the family costumes. Henry would be lying if he said his attention was fully on her words right now, all he could think of was how huge her breasts had grown these past few months from breastfeeding. God almighty it took him an arm and a leg to keep from squeezing them like a stress ball, even being caught by Y/n herself.

“Sugar butt, they won’t even remember goin’ there, Beau over there doesn’t even remember who I am half the time” Henry chuckled looking to meet his wife’s eyes as she huffed and scooted out of his hold, shuffling over to her baby boy who was near enough asleep after being burped. “F-fine then, you don’t care about us” She whimpered giving him those big doe eyes of hers, even turning around her baby Iris, who she had now given a pacifier to. Her cute little mouth bopping up and down as she suckled on the Disney themed dummy, her big eyes she got from her momma staring right at her daddy. Henry swore his heart clenched right when he saw his baby princess looking at him.

“Y’all n’ your damn eyes, fine”

“H-hen look at the baby c-cots they’re old west themed!” Y/n giggled holding baby Iris to her hip whilst Henry carried Beau on his, sliding in the suitcases with his free arm. “Is it everythin’ ya wanted sugar cube?” He hummed finally locking the hotel room, his arm coming around her waist to bring his daughter and wife closer to his warm broad chest.

“W-we love it, it’s so cute and reminds me of our house” Y/n smiled tilting her head up to press a small wet kiss onto her man’s lips, both babies also reaching for each other cutely, they were absolutely inseparable so thankfully the cots were right by each other. Seeing both of their eyes start to lid, their small voices cooing tiredly, it only seemed right that they put their tots down for the night after a long day of driving and gas stops.

“C’mon over ‘ere momma, ya need your sleep n’ so does daddy” Henry whispered tugging on his wife’s belt loop, pulling her against his chest as they looked over their beautiful miracle gems. “Missed you today ya know” Inhaling her soft fresh scent deeply, he slowly waddled them both towards their huge king size saloon themed bed. “Y-you were with me the w-whole day though” Y/n laughed as Henry softly set her on the sheets, already tugging off her denim flares and black polo crop top. His smile widening as he saw all the new stretch marks she had gained, evidence she had carried their family, their baby gems; a proof of their love.

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, didn’t have your sweet pussy wrapped around my cock or anythin”

“A-and you still can’t, t-this is a family friendly zone” Y/n scolded shimmying herself up the bed only for her to be dragged down by Henry’s hand on her ankles, her puffy pussy coincidentally coming face to face with his eager lips. “We can worry about the family friendliness tomorrow, right now it’s me n’ my gorgeous wife. Think she misses my kissies no? As long as you’re quite n’ don’t wake up the monsters then it’s okay bun”

Slowly peppering small onto her second set of lips, his tongue coaxed through her folds to taste her sweet self; baby bun’s little gasps and stifled moans reverberating through their bodies. “M’already close H-hen, kissy t-too good” Y/n whined knowing how sensitive she was, both emotionally and physically after the journey of a pregnancy she had. “I know you are sweet pea, go on, give your man his treasure”

Within seconds her body was writhing in his hold, her hand over her mouth to make sure she wasn’t being too loud, Henry’s hands clamped around her waist as he slurped up all of her juices. “Y-your turn?” She breathed out sitting up on her elbows, “No baby bun, we can do that another time, time for you to get some sleep” He smiled crawling up on her to kiss her lips softly, with a twinge of tongue just to hear her hum in pleasure.

“You sure?”

“Hundred, now turn over n’ let me spoon my sugar cube”

Both of them now nude under the covers, Henry’s hands skimmed up over her sides and curves, moving up to cup her breasts strongly; hoping to teasingly coax some of her milk out but he knew she’d have been emptied out just from the twins on the road trip. “You did so good today momma, took care of our gems so well you know that? My precious baby bun such a good woman, my woman”

“I L-love you so much H-henry, you’re such a good daddy to t-the babies”

“I love you too Y/n, swear my life on it”

Throughout the night Henry slowly and gently humped his hardened cock against his sleepy wife, hearing her whine and groan until he finally released all over her bare ass, letting her shift back against him before finally drifting off for the rest of the night.

“a-aren’t you two just f-freaking adorable, m-my little chip a-and lumiere” With the two tots propped up on some pillows, in their chip and lumiere costumes from beauty and the beast, Y/n in her pretty yellow dress as Belle and Henry in a blue suit as the beast. The perfect fairytale family in Henry’s words.

“H-Henry get in beside them, now please” Picking up each 8 month old onto each knee, Henry smiled with his canine smile into the phone, both babies showing their gummy smiles in their tiny costumes like the absolute cuties they were. The perfect mix of Henry and his Y/n. “Ok now go put it on a timer n’ get in here sugar butt”

“mhm comin’” Setting up her phone against the table she ran over and perched herself behind Henry, her arms coming around his neck from behind, her red painted lips planted onto his cheek. “Should we get ‘em into the pram and get goin to fantasyland? Get you your well needed pictures n’ souvenirs” Nodding excitedly they strapped both twins into the two seater pram, their costumes thankfully suited to the hot summer weather, with Henry pushing the pram protectively as Y/n linked her arms with his.

“I-isn’t it just magical? Oh wait! We need to g-get them pictures w-with Mickey Hen” Redirecting the stroller to the queue for Mickey, the couple stood in line in each other’s arms, “you alright ma? You look absolutely gorgeous” Swaying their bodies side to side, Henry felt her giggle and laugh against him, twisting her head to the side to press a sweet kiss to his neck. “Y-you’re only sayin’ that cause i-im dressed like Belle”

“Nah no way, I prefer you naked than in a dress and ya know that baby bun” Chuckling they finally moved to the picture spot, with Iris in Y/n’s arms and Beau in Henry’s, each twin cooing happily with their sun hats on with the white sunscreen making their face look painted.

“Baby bun, I- I have a proposition, you can say no if you want but”

“b-but what?” Y/n asked tilting her bead to the side like a happy little puppy, taking off her costume after the long day, Iris and Beau already tucked into their sleep snuggies and in their respective wooden bassinets.

“This is out of the blue, but my uh my mother’s here, she’s seen somethin’ about us bein’ here and she wants to meet Iris and Beau. Well- actually take them off our hands for a few hours to give us some time”

“W-what like now? I-i’ve only met her a few times a-and that was before I was pregnant”

“I know that’s why I wanted to ask you first, we’re a team baby bun, you say no then thats fine, you tell me what you want sugar” Nuzzling his head against hers he felt her exhale before raising her head, that same soft kind look in her eyes.

“I grew up a-always loving my grandparents, I-i’d hate to rob I-Iris and Beau of that. Your m-mother’s lovely, I-I just wish we saw her more often so she k-knew them more” Y/n explained nodding her head with each word, showing that she completely trusted Henry’s mother, she knew how attentive she was with her other grandchildren and she didn’t doubt her for a second with Iris and Beau. Although this would also mean this would be the first time she would be away from her babies for more than an hour, already feeling the dreaded mother’s guilt.

With it already being 5PM and time for dinner a rhythmic knock sounded throughout the room, the newly awoken babies’ eyes curiously looking around the room, their hands wandering in the air frantically. “It’s her sugar, you ready for me to open the door?” Nodding Y/n stood up, wiping her sweaty palms onto her skirt, watching on as Henry’s mother gleefully walked into the room. A pair of purple mickey ears on her head as she instantly reached for Y/n, bringing her in for a hug and an affectionate kiss to the cheek.

“My beautiful daughter in law, you’ve only gotten more beautiful, how I wonder how my son met got you” Henry scoffed muttering a ‘thanks mom’ watching his mother then turn her attention to the two cuties surrounded by pillows on the bed, the both of them looking at her happily almost as if they could feel the love radiating off their grandmother.

“Oh my word, is this my little ittle Iris and Beau, my two precious grandbabies, they are the carbon copy of you Y/n, thank God nothin' like Henry. With that scowl always on his face" Marianne whispered tickling their little stomachs, quickly taking out the mini mickey ears she had gotten just for them, a pink and blue sequinned set.

“Aww t-thank you, t-though I’m thankful they g-got the cleft chin from H-henry” Y/n laughed seeing Henry pick up Beau and Iris, letting her have her fair share of snuggles of each baby Cavill, the newest additions so far to the family. “Ma are ya sure you’re able to handle these two little monsters, they can be quite a handful but we’ve already packed everythin’ ya need in this baby bag” Buckling them into their stroller, Henry tucked the baby bag into the underneath of the stroller, his mother excitedly clapping and exclaiming how excited she was to spend the next few dinner hours with her grandchildren.

“Henry boy, av’ raised 5 boys I think I can handle two more angels, especially if they’re like Y/n”

“Well most of the time they are, curious little things really, but deprive ‘em of the booby milk and it gets scary” Henry laughed as Y/n scolded him, hugging his mother one last time as she brought the babies to her hotel room, deciding the easiest option was to order in room service since all they had was simple baby foods and milk.

Meanwhile Y/n had a new feeling in her stomach, a feeling of guilt for simply letting her “newborn” babies go despite them edging the ninth month. Her goosebumps wouldn’t let down, her legs shaking as Henry shuffled around the room to prepare a hot warm bath for them both, a well deserved one at that. “Baby bun ya ready to come in n’ join me?” Henry called in from the tall ceiling bathroom, waiting eagerly to watch his nude wife in all her glory.

“a-am coming now” She called seeing her husband engulfed in a multitude of purple and pink bath bubbled, his hand outstretched to help her into the tub. His hand tightly wrapped around her wrist as she sat between his legs, the water sloshing once she sat back against his snug wide chest. “What’s goin up in that pretty mind o’ yours beautiful, you look busied”

“D-Do you think i-it’s bad that I let t-the babies go w-with your mom so easily? I f-feel guilty for being away from them for so l-long”

“what? Is that what you’ve been tinkerin’ about? You’re the best wife n’ mother on the goddamn planet, the way you pour your love and affection into everythin’ you do, no one could ask anything more from you. You’re absolutely perfect baby bun, my little sugar cube is the best” Henry whispered against her ear, his voice growling towards the end as his lips attached to her neck and shoulders, kissing it passionately while her head rolled back onto his shoulder. His strong burly arms wrapped around her midsection, one of his hands sneaking up to circle her nipples with his finger, eyes staring as he watched them harden.

“Y-you really think so?” Bun replied looking up at him, her doubting thoughts quickly dissolving once he pecked her nose adorably, each of her breasts in one of his hands. “I know so, now sit your pretty little self back n’ let daddy take care of everythin’ alright momma?”

Settling herself back comfortably basking in his radiating body heat, his hands reaching under the water to touch her sensitive clit, his soft hoarse voice hushing her anytime she let out anything louder than a squeal.

“This ok baby?”

“mhm f-feels so freakin’ good” Henry’s lips stayed pressed to her temple as his palm rubbed on her clit, his ring and middle finger already teasing her hole with soft pillowy thrusts, just enough for her hips to thrust themselves upwards clearly wanting more. “I can feel you gettin’ close bunbun, ya wanna finish here or in the bedroom, or both?”

“B-both?”

That was all the confirmation Henry needed for his fingers to thrust his fingers in frantically, her sensitive nub consistently making contact with his palm to bring her to finish, his other free hand that was holding her up was now holding her jaw to turn her head towards him. His lips pursing onto hers, to suck her tongue into his mouth, tasting her cherry lipstick. “God I love kissin these lips of yours, so beautiful n’ sexy”

Not even letting her reply as her orgasm washed over her, his finger repeatedly fucking her entrance while his other hand now reached down to rub her clit like a feral beast, her body shaking crazily as she rode out her high. “Aww my pretty sugar butt, you always get me so fuckin’ hard whenever you look at me like that”

His thumb brushed under her lips, her eyes looking dazed and happy as she happily nuzzled back up straight to sit closer to him.

“This okay? Or do you want it tied up as well?” Turning off the hairdryer, Henry continued to softly brush through bun’s hair as best as possible, trying to alleviate her head of worries about their babies (even though his mother just sent them a picture of them suckling on their pre-made bottles)

“I-I want it in-in a braid” Nodding Henry got the strands of hair ready, looking at her lovingly through the mirror, her eyes closed peacefully with her wearing nothing but one of his white vests. Taking his time to get the braid perfect he tied it off with a little tie and carried her up to the top of the bed, pulling back the covers to help her get settled in before he slid in beside her.

This would be their first night without the babies’ interruption.

“You wanna jus’ go to bed sugar? or-“

“No. I-I want this” Confidently she reached down and started stroking his hardened cock which was already laying against her thighs, biting her lip she shuffled forward to hook one arm around his neck as he took some of his precum and used it to lube up her pussy, small gasps leaving her at the erotic act. None of them speaking any words but the amount of love and passion in their eyes was obvious, her tits popping out from the sides of his vest as it was clearly ten sizes too big.

“Just gonna take it slow with you sweetpea, make love with ya until my pretty sugar falls asleep”

With her arms now wrapped around his torso, her head directly above his heart, Henry slipped in his cock into her warm wet pussy, both of them gasping out at the amazing sensation. “So soft n’ warm” He whispered kissing her pouty lips passionately, their tongues meeting in a wet kiss as both their hips rolled against each other. Henry’s hand lifted up her thigh to place it over his waist, his fingers tracing over the stretch marks now littering her thighs and lower stomach, even her breasts. Henry couldn’t even put into words just how much it made her look like an absolute Goddess that gave him his two precious miracles.

“D-don’t touch ‘em”

“Why not bun? They’re proof of the amazing journey you took for our family, and they look so fuckin’ sexy” Henry rebutted shutting her up with a sharp thrust which sent her mewling back into his chest, her palms flat on his back as his slow rhythmic thrusts helped her reach her orgasm quicker, each throw of his hips hitting another angle of her G-spot.

“S-sleepy Henry”

“You take all the rest you need baby, take what you need my pretty girl” He whispered pecking her lips thrice more, his hips still softly rolling against hers even after they had finished, the wet sloshy sounds of their juices filling the room as Y/n found herself falling asleep with her husband’s cock inside of her.

———

PSA: Lumberjack!Henry is back!! Meet his lovely momma who raised this beast, although he definitely got his possessive attitude from his dad who we are yet to meet, and his brothers. Hope you guys enjoy this Disneyland snippet 🫶

library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist: @helenaellie @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @alina02 @alexxavicry @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @thoughtsofreid @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @buckybarnessweetheart @sweetybuzz25 @k3ira13 @shecamedowninabubble @ridingthehotmessexpress @animez96 @angelic-dreams13 @squishyturtle @keenduckfury @mxnnana-blog @namjoons-t1ddied @frittelligliegia @realm-of-azrael @lina505 @marvelloki23 @livesinfantasyland @slut4henrycavill @luxeydior

See you guys at the next update, lots of love 🫶🫶

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vivwritesfics · 5 months ago

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High On Believing

Chapter One - The Anniversary

Meet Daniel Ricciardo and his wife. Two single parents meeting because of their kids. This is their story after marriage, of raising their kids, of their loving family.

(Note: yes, this is the second series of HOAF. But I'm trying to write this in a way that you don't have to read the first series to read this one)

2.5K

"Happy anniversary, Mrs Ricciardo."

"Happy anniversary, Mr Ricciardo." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her across the bed, pulling her closer. He pressed a tender kiss to her lips that soon turned not so tender.

After almost five years together, three of those years being married, she was used to it. But she wasn't tired of it. She'd never be tired of it. She leaned into it, body slotting beneath his.

Daniel pressed his chest against her own, hands cradling her head. The way he kissed her was so damn loving. She moved her fingers through his curls, pulling a damn sweet moan from his lips.

Morning sex, it had become a tradition on their anniversary. Of course, it wasn't only on their anniversary that they enjoyed a slow, sensual morning fuck as the sun crested over the trees surrounding their home.

But, they had children. Three of them, in fact.

Olivia, Daniel's daughter and her stepdaughter, came barging into the room. "Happy anniversary!" She shouted at the top of her lungs as her parents rolled away from each other, holding the blanket protectively to their bodies.

"Badger," Daniel began, tone suggesting that he was scolding her. "What're you... can we have five minutes of peace before we get up?"

But Olivia wasn't alone. Soon Milo, her son and Daniel's stepson, was running into the room behind her, with two and a half year old Beau Ricciardo on his hip.

Beau was the son they biologically shared. He was her spitting image, with Daniel's eyes and nose. When Daniel saw Beau's nose, he almost cried. But he realised just how gorgeous their little boy was, with his nose and his eyes. Their little family of five (well six, including the cat) was complete.

She tapped her phone in quick succession, checking the time. "Kids, why are you up so early?" She asked as Milo placed Beau on the floor.

Beau toddled towards his dad and made grabby hands towards him. Keeping himself covered up, Daniel picked Beau up and kissed his chubby little cheeks.

"I need to get to the track," Olivia answered.

"Crap," Daniel hissed. In his excitement for their three year anniversary, he'd completely forgotten that Olivia had a race that day. "Right, kids, take Beau and get yourselves some breakfast while your mum and I get dressed, okay?"

Even after all these years, Daniel referring to her as Olivia's mum as well as Milo's warmed her heart. Immediately, Olivia had taken to it. She didn't call her mum, just as Milo didn't call Daniel dad, but she didn't protest when Daniel referred to her as 'Olivia's mum'.

Olivia nodded. She grabbed her baby brother from the bed and carried him out of the room, leading Milo. As soon as they were outside and the door was shut, Daniel was back on top of her, giving her one final kiss.

"As soon as we're done at the track, I'm gonna put another baby in you," he whispered against her lips.

She gently pushed at his chest, pushing him up and out of the bed. "You concentrate on our girl, okay? You can concentrate on putting a baby in me later."

"That a promise, Mrs Ricciardo?" Daniel asked as he pulled a shirt over his head.

She grinned as she began getting herself dressed. "Of course, Mr Ricciardo."

Mrs Ricciardo. It had been three years and she still wasn't over it. It still had that bubbly feeling beginning in her chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, unable to stop herself from kissing him one last time.

Daniel dipped her. He had his arms around her midsection and dipped her. It was what he wanted to do at their wedding, but she was pregnant with their Beau and he couldn't. So Daniel was making up for it, dipping her, hooking her leg around his hips.

"DAD!"

They broke away from each other. Daniel hurried downstairs as she continued getting ready for the day.

Their days were set to be wildly different. It may have been their anniversary, the day they wanted to spend together, but their kids came first. Olivia had to be at the track, and Milo needed some new art supplies.

Daniel drank his coffee and held up Beau's orange juice, trying to get him to take it on his down. Beau took it, but immediately pushed it onto the floor. The lid of his cup opened easily (a testament of how many times it had been dropped before) and Daniel set about clearing it up as Olivia finished her breakfast.

"Dad, we gotta go," she said as she collected her stuff.

"Give me a minute, Badger," he replied as he used the paper towel to wipe up the juice from the floor. He placed the cup on the counter, threw away the soiled paper towels, and grabbed his keys. He threw them to Olivia. "Get in, I'll be there soon," he said and headed towards the stairs.

Daniel had just meant to shout up, to say goodbye to his wife and let her know that Beau hadn't had his juice (he threw it around, sure, but god help you if you cross Beau who hasn't had his morning juice). But there she stood, at the stop of the stairs, looking gorgeous. "Holy fuck," he hissed as she descended the stairs.

"Danny." She rolled her eyes, but he offered her his hand. Ever the romantic, he held her as he walked down the bottom two steps and pulled her into his chest.

Damn, he loved this woman. His hands squeezed her hips as he kissed her again. She ran her hands through his hair, trying to tame his curls. But there was no use, and that was just how she loved him.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her. "Beau hasn't had his juice yet," he said as he gently rocked her from side to side.

"I can't believe you're leaving me with the monster."

The gasp Daniel let out was so dramatic, and he couldn't hide his smile. "I can't believe you just called our son a monster," he said and kissed her forehead. "He's just spirited, and that's gonna make him a future world champion, after Olivia, of course."

He leaned in, capturing his wife's lips one last time. Well, he would have kept going. Except...

"DAD! WE'RE GONNA BE LATE!"

He pulled away for real this time. "Bye, boys," he said to his sons as he walked past, placing a kiss on both of their foreheads. As they all wished Olivia good luck, she and Daniel were running out of the door.

Y/N Ricciardo let out a content sigh as she walked into the kitchen. Her life really was perfect.

"What're we doing today, Milo?" She asked as she got another cup of juice for Beau. This time holding it so he couldn't throw it everywhere.

Milo finished his breakfast. "I just need art stuff, momma," he said as he began to clear away his cereal bowl. He placed it in the dishwasher and walked out of the kitchen.

His mother turned to Beau, a frown on her face. "Should we take Milo to get some ice cream?" She asked as she brushed his curls back from his forehead.

"Ice cream! Beau cheered as she took his empty bottle away.

Picking Beau up from his chair, she carried him upstairs. "Heading out soon, Miley!" She called as she gently knocked on the door. He called something back and she took Beau into his bedroom.

Beau seemed to take joy in her parent's suffering. As his mother tried to get his little legs into a cute little pair of shorts, he was kicking his feet. Some days it was a two parent job, one of them holding him still while the other slipped his shorts over his legs.

(There had been times, where Daniel was out of Australia, racing on the other side of the world, that she cried. It was stupid, but Beau wasn't letting her get him dressed and it had all gotten to be too much.)

"Not today, little man," she said and rushed to get him dressed, moving so fast that he couldn't kick off his clothes.

One she was dressed, she grabbed his bag, swung it over her shoulder, and placed Beau on her hip. She held him as she marched out of the room and walked down the hall to knock on Milo's door.

After a moment she pushed it open. There Milo was, looking through his desk, making a list of what he needed. The list was so long, things he and his mother never would have been able to afford before Daniel came into their lives.

Grabbing a backpack, Milo followed his mother out of the house. She shut the door behind them and took the boys over to the car. Her car, the car she'd had since before she'd met Daniel. He would have bought her a new car, she knew that, but she'd grown attached to the shitty little car that had gotten her and Milo around for so long.

Milo climbed into the front as she buckled Beau into the back of the car. "Momma," Milo began as she started the ignition and pulled out of the driveway. "Can we go and watch Olivia at the track next time?"

Before she pulled out of the driveway, she grinned at her son. "Of course we can, Miley. You wanna have a go?"

At that, he shook his head. He didn't want to start karting, didn't want to move on to single seaters and become a Formula One driver. That was Olivia's dream, not his. But he liked watching. Liked sitting there with his sketchbook open.

They went to the art store, getting Milo everything he needed and more. Beau made grabby hands at everything they passed, but his mother held him still.

As soon as they were done in the art store and Milo's new supplies were in the back of the car, the three of them got ice cream. Milo sat there with a Cherry Berry cone while his mother shared a cup of dairy free, vanilla ice cream with Beau. Between licks of his ice cream, Milo spoke. He spoke about anything and everything that came to mind.

And, as the three of them climbed into the car, art supplies in the boot and bellies full of ice cream, Daniel drove Olivia home from the track.

He held one hand towards Olivia, hand in a fist as he drove. "Pound it," he said and she let go of her little trophy just long enough to fist bump her dad. "I'm gonna have to put up a trophy shelf for you, aren't I?"

Olivia thought about it for a second. "I think a shelf might be a bit small, Dad," he said with a toothy grin.

"That's my girl!" He cheered and turned up the radio. The two of them sung along to whatever was playing from his phone as he drove her back to the house.

As they turned into the driveway, Olivia turned down the radio. "Dad, can we go with you to the next Grand Prix?" She asked as they pulled up in front of the garage.

"What about school, Badger?"

She pouted as she climbed out of the car. "C'mon, dad! I wanna see uncle Max and everyone," she said as she grabbed her bag from the back of the car.

Daniel gave her a look, one Olivia gave right back. The puppy dog eyes. Why had he taught her that? "I'll talk to Y/N," he said and locked the car.

Grinning, Oliva skipped back towards the house. "We're back!" She shouted the moment she walked inside. All sweaty and disgusting, she strode towards the kitchen and placed her trophy on the table, placing it on top of Milo's new sketchbook.

"So," asked Y/N as she turned away from the sink. "How did it go, Liv?"

Before Olivia could open her mouth, her father placed his hand on her shoulder. "Shower first, Badger. And then you can tell them all about how brilliant you were."

Olivia let out a groan, but she headed upstairs, headed towards the bathroom.

Daniel strode towards his wife, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. "She was great," he said with a smile before he kissed her. "We've got a future world champion on our hands.

Her arms were around his neck as she kissed him again. "We'll go with you next time," she said, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

Daniel grinned. He kissed her cheeks and her neck, keeping his arms around her as he turned towards his boys. "What're you drawing?" He asked as he looked over Milo's shoulder.

Milo pushed his sketchbook to the middle of the notebook, letting Daniel see what he was working on. It was incredibly cool, a comic strip that took inspiration from Jurassic park. His son was talented, but Daniel knew that already. "Say, Mi, d'you think you'd wanna design my next helmet?"

***

Mr and Mrs Ricciardo didn't need some big, fancy anniversary dinner. Not when they had their kids with them.

Milo sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, putting his new pencils to good use. Every few minutes he was turning back towards Daniel, before turning to the piece of paper in front of him.

The television was playing as the rest of the family sat on the couch behind him. Beau sat on his father's lap and Olivia was against the arm of the chair, tucking into her dinner.

It was a special one, the five of them tucking into the Chinese. The food was crap and they all knew it, but they were happy.

Daniel picked Beau up as he stood. He sat Beau down in his mother's lap and leaned down to kiss her. "Happy anniversary, Mrs Ricciardo," he whispered.

"Happy anniversary, Mr Ricciardo."

But then Daniel was covering Beau's ears as he leaned closer to his wife. "Think we can make another?" He whispered in her ear.

She reached out and smacked his shoulder. Daniel just laughed and kissed her head. "I'm not saying yes, but that's not a definite no," she said as he picked up their plates and took them back to the kitchen.

Suddenly, Milo and Olivia were staring at her. "What's not a definite no, mum?" Milo asked. He looked at Olivia and back at his mother.

The embarrassment was written on her face as she shook her head. "Nothing, kids. Let's just watch the movie, yeah?" She said and ran her fingers through Beau's curls.

Mrs Ricciardo loved her little family.

Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool

@rewmuslupin

@prettiest-at-the-party

@hellowgoodbye

@minseok-smaus

@formulaal

@hiireadstuff

@urfavnoirette

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#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x you #dr3 #dr3 imagine #dr3 x reader #daniel ricciardo oneshot #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

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lovecanyon · 1 year ago

Text

Inside Y/N L/N’s Bag | Vogue | Dad!H

MASTERLIST | PATREON

“Hi Vogue I am Y/N L/N and this is what’s in my bag.”

After she introduces herself, Y/N looks down at the bag in her lap. The bag she had used every single day was a personalized Pleasing mesh bag. It was a light pink color and had a blue ribbon tied onto one of the straps.

It was clear that it meant a lot to her.

“What I carry with me everyday is this.” She says grabbing onto her bag. “You can fit anything in here. And the thing about this is, it’s technically Inez’s diaper bag.”

Y/N then grins at the memory of Harry gifting her the tote.

“This specific bag was gifted to me by my husband a while ago, right before he had launched Pleasing. My son actually loves this bag and has one of his own but smaller. He doesn't go anywhere without it.” Y/N shares.

Setting her carrier onto the wooden coffee table in front of her, the Styles woman reaches into her bag and pulls out a bag of candy. Beau's favorite type.

Y/N remembers the night when Harry had got their son addicted to the chocolate minstrels.

“My son is obsessed with these and when I saw them I had to get them for him.” She laughs. “I spoil my kids way too much.”

The next thing Y/N pulled out was her phone. Just a plain iPhone 14 with a case that she had stolen from Harry or borrowed it, so she said. Once she taps on the screen her face lights up.

Her lock screen was a photo of a newborn Inez sleeping on Harry’s chest with Beau right beside them.

She almost shed a tear.

“This is my phone, nothing special until you look at the lock screen.” Y/N grins. She loved her family so deeply.

After placing her phone onto the table, she slides her hand into her carrier pulling out a blue bandanna. It previously belonged to Harry until Inez came around and slid the bandanna off of her father’s head.

It was truly her favorite thing in the world. You could say it was sort of like a safety blanket for her.

“Harry’s bandanna or should I say Inez’s bandanna. That girl loves this thing so much.”

A small bag of diapers, bibs, toy trucks, hair clips that she had stole back from Harry, kids sunscreen, Love on Tour’s backstage/V.I.P passes, bandaids, Harry’s headphones, her family’s passports and a camera

“Since we’re currently on tour and always traveling I always have to carry my children’s essentials.” Y/N explains looking at all the items laid out in front of her. “You can never be unprepared.”

Just five years ago her bag was filled with very different items than now. She was now a mother and had a family with a man she’s always wanted to grow old with.

Two kids later and she’s become a changed woman, a better one. She’s always valued the life she had, especially right now. Y/N couldn't have been more happy.

“Another toy!” Y/N laughs, pulling out another toy from her bag. “A mini statue of our dog Kendall who was actually named after Kendall Roy from Succession since Harry is obsessed with that show.” She holds out a miniature dog in her palm.

Following the toy, she slides out a pair of rings that clearly belonged to Harry Styles since they were his initials.

Y/N leans forward and slips the rings into her back pocket. She remembers the last time Harry had lost jewelry. It was at Coachella and he went insane looking for them.

“We are not losing any more rings.”

Comments:

harryfan2 WHEN WAS THEIR WEDDING OMFG?????

harryfan10 best mother in the world truly

harryfan4 harry’s love for succession has me rolling 😭😭

harryfan8 this. is. what. we. needed.

harryfan13 THE LOCK SCREEN

harryfan7 i cannot stress how much i love this video

harryfan5 the literal girl version of harry

harryfan9 harry is finally y/n’s husband 🧎‍♂️

harryfan11 i’m literally crying

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @cherryfragrancx @milkiane @golden-hoax @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @lomlolivia

#harry styles x reader #dad!harry #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #boyfriend!harry #husband!harry #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fan fic #dilf!harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine

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maplleaf · 8 months ago

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《 Spark 》

[Boothill (HSR) x GN! Reader]

Boothill is a leaked char, but no story spoilers. Just his general vibes from the leaked pics I saw.

Very short too lol, I'm trying to get my motivation back for the dr ratio fic

"Ouch, can't ya' be a bit gentle, Spark?"

Your brows furrowed at the remark and nickname. The sound of mechanical parts malfunctioning is heard clearly, all due to the work of your hands.

"For the last time, I'm not a fucking mechanic. You just keep on insisting I fix you up," you scoffed, but still trying your best to somehow fix his arm. "And what does Spark even mean?! I told you I don't know any of your slang."

Boothill laughed, "why don't you ask your family fellas?"

The half cyborg could see the shudder that went down your spine as you attempted to fix his robotic arm. "They'd kill me. Even touching you would make me lose my upcoming projects."

"Ya' wound me, Spark..." Boothill remarked, feigning a wound on his heart, despite him placing his hand on his right chest.

The sentiment made your roll your eyes, going back to the task at hand.

Both of you remained in a blissful silence after, your whole focus on Boothill's arm, not even realizing the pair of grey eyes staring at you under the shadow of his hat.

A small chuckle escaped his lips, 'a sight better than any dreams,' he thought. Shamelessly staring at you, leaning back against the chair and enjoying his view.

Your focused face brought him glee. The way your lips pout as another error came up in your attempt to fix his arm, the brief moment where he could see stars in your eyes, only to be shrouded in dissapointment once more as another failure struck.

He relished in your... everything. The way you agreed to help him despite knowing barely anything about his robotic parts made his heart melt, knowing that you just want to help him.

Just looking at you made him giddy inside, the thought that you're touching his arm can motivate him to fight the entire Bloodhound Family on his own.

He didn't care if he got roughed up in the fight, any losses he might've gotten in any fight is a win if it means he'll be seeing this.

Before he knew it, you noticed his gaze fixed on you. "Your sharp-ass teeth isn't making the staring comforting..."

Hearing that made the latter laugh again, taking off his hat and using it to cover his mouth, but his vision still locked onto you. "This' better, Darlin'?"

The sudden nickname made you stop in your track, Boothill's frustrating smirk hidden behind the hat. With a scoff, you grabbed his hat, throwing it right at his face before standing up from the chair.

"Fix this arm by yourself. I'm heading back to the Golden Hour," you spat out, dropping the tools on the table, walking over to the glowing blue 'pond' that became the entrance to the dreamscape.

"What? A nickname ruffled ya' up?" Boothill teased, seeing you lay down and close your eyes. His words were met with a middle finger coming from you, right before you drifted off to the dreamscape. The furrowed and irritated face turned into a peaceful slumber.

Seeing you asleep, Boothill sighed, wearing the hat back on his head. Mechanical sounds could be heard from his arm, and a few moments later; he stretched the robotic arm, as if nothing was wrong in the first place.

He walked over to you, making sure you were truly sleep.

The cold mettalic hand went to your face, moving away the strands of hair on your face.

He smiled, his sharp teeth showing faintly beneath the smile. "Good dreams, Spark," he murmured softly.

"... one day I'll tell you what it means."

--------------------------------------------

Spark – A lover, a beau.

#boothill #boothill hsr #honkai starrail #hsr #penacony #boothill x male reader #boothill x gn reader #boothill x reader #hsr x gn reader #save a horse ride a cowboy

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toournextadventure · 8 months ago

Text

our little secret pt.iv

Summary: Your sins catch up with you.

Word Count: 11.9k Warnings: swearing, heavy religion and religious trauma (Southern Christianity), heavy religious homophobia, slurs, misogyny, guns, threats of violence, talk of death Pairing: Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader (Masterlist) A/N: this has super heavy religious themes, if you're not good with that please don't read, do what's best for y'all 🫶

Lorraine was coming home.

Well, they were all coming home, but you were only truly excited to see Lorraine. It had been nearly three months since you had seen her last. There was little to no contact because they were moving around a lot, but you would get her letters. Simple little things to tell you where they were, what they were doing, how much bigger they were getting in the industry.

Each letter felt more precious than the last. She never said anything explicit - though you couldn’t say the same for the rare letter from Max or Bobby-Lynn - but the message never changed. She missed you. Filming wasn’t the same when she knew she couldn’t go to you immediately after. Sometimes, if you were lucky, she would even complain about RJ.

The letters stayed hidden in a lockbox in Beau’s truck. You had wanted to keep them with you so they were easier to get a hold of, but both he and Huck had reminded you of the dangers of such a thing. What if someone found them? It would put both you and Lorraine in danger.

It wasn’t something that should have been a surprise to you, yet it partially was. You had gotten comfortable with the small group you surrounded yourself with. All but one or two knew of your little secret, and every single one of them was in support. Or at the very least, they were accepting. When you were with them, you almost forgot you weren’t supposed to be with Lorraine; you were supposed to be in your good, Christian, church-ordained relationship with Beau.

Yet, it was easy enough to keep your secret when Lorraine was away so often. You were so very proud of her and all she was achieving. Each time you saw her, you made sure to remind her of such. A kiss for each time you had felt proud of her while she was away, just to ensure she felt proud of herself. It didn’t matter what she did, all that mattered was she was working hard and moving through life successfully.

Beau and Huck had just gotten back from their own trip as well. They were scheduled to get back a few days after Lorraine, but out of some strange sense of responsibility, they had come back early. You wouldn’t complain. After all, you may not have been romantically interested in either of them, but you still loved them. They were family. They were your family. When they were around, life felt less chaotic. You could breathe and relax and feel however you wanted to feel because you knew, no matter what, that they loved you.

Things felt… good. As good as they had in a long while. You often spent your evenings with Roy. After talking with Jackson a few times, you had some idea on how to talk with your brother. He had been hesitant at first, seemingly not even able to comprehend his own thoughts. But slowly, day by day, you managed to get him to talk.

In the dead of night when you should have been asleep in your room, you sat across from Roy in the barn and listened to his rambling stories. I was an electrician, he had said, a pole jockey. You didn’t ask what that meant. Average life of a pole jockey is 7 seconds. For the first time since coming home, he showed you his overabundance of scars.

It was no wonder he felt trapped within his own mind.

“How’s it goin’, Roy?” Beau asked as he walked into the barn with Huck right on his heels. “Brought you some barbecue.”

Roy grumbled an acknowledgement before gingerly taking the Tupperware box from Beau’s outstretched hand. He always seemed to go fairly nonverbal when someone else was around. A small part of you felt proud that he trusted you enough to talk with you. It didn’t outweigh the feeling of knowing he would probably never get better.

“You goin’ to church with us on Sunday?” Huck asked gently.

He took a different approach to interacting with Roy than Beau did. While Beau very much kept his “big boy britches” on (as he had so much fun saying), Huck was more outwardly compassionate. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, or they thought Roy incapable, they were just raised differently. At least it was better than how you were both raised.

At least they showed they cared.

“Our sweet girl is preachin’,” Beau continued.

Roy looked at you and raised an eyebrow comically high. If you hadn’t just been talking about people dying and his nightmares, you would have teased him for it. Maybe you should have, just to invoke a sense of normalcy in it all. You opted to keep your mouth shut.

“It’s just kids’ church,” you said with a shrug. “Nothin’ important.”

“You are shapin’ the young minds of America’s future voters,” Beau said with a finger pointed in your direction. “That’s mighty important.”

You laughed and kicked out at him, managing to barely catch his heel. “You hear that from the television set?”

“Yes ma’am, I did,” he said with that cheesy smile that made all the women in town swoon. “You’re doin’ the Lord’s work.”

“You still don’t have to go,” you said to Roy.

He looked at you with a small smile before looking back down at the food in his hands. Yeah, you knew that would be the answer. So did Beau, but he still tried, bless his heart. You looked at him as he continued talking with Huck and felt something tighten in your chest.

You wished you loved him the way you were supposed to. If you could just feel those butterflies whenever he held your hand, or kissed your cheek, or wrapped his arms around you, everything would be better. You could still love Lorraine, and you could still love Huck, but the guilt wouldn’t be sticking to your very bones, weighing you down until you could feel the very fires of hell licking at your skin.

Maybe you could learn. Perhaps you could learn to feel for him the way you were supposed to. Lorraine felt for RJ - or could at least pretend convincingly - and no one was the wiser. If you could pretend, or learn, then maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. You could get away with loving Lorraine if you could convince everyone that you felt for Beau the way you were supposed to.

While he talked with Huck and Roy, you sat back and really looked at him. He was handsome, you didn’t have to fancy him romantically to see it. Just near every girl in town thought you were lucky as could be; you couldn’t entirely disagree. His laugh, his smile, his kindness, he was everything a girl could want.

And you felt nothing.

It weighed heavy on your soul as the days kept passing you by. Each day brought you closer to seeing Lorraine again, which meant you distanced yourself from Beau. You desperately hoped he understood; you loved him dearly, and there was nothing you wouldn’t do for him. But you just couldn’t love him the way you knew you should.

You sighed and put your thoughts aside when a truck pulled up to the barn. It wasn’t one you had seen before, at least not one you could remember. But it pulled up beside Beau’s truck as if they had done it a million times before. Not even Jimmy pulled up so well, and he lived there.

“You invite somebody?” You asked whoever was listening.

“You say that like we got friends,” Huck said with a chuckle and a swig from his beer bottle. He didn’t even look.

“Then somebody invited themself,” you said.

The lights of the truck were still on, seeming brighter as the sun continued to dip beneath the horizon. It would have silhouetted the still-budding cotton field if not for the blinding lights. Not many people made it a habit of coming out to the barn; they went to the house with daddy and not much else. There really wasn’t much sense in coming out this way.

Roy’s knee pressed against your thigh before you heard something scrape across the concrete floor. Hesitantly, you stopped looking at the truck and turned to look at him. His eyes were glued to the truck, and his hand was wrapped carefully around the handle of a pistol. A pistol that you hadn’t known he still had access to.

“I got it,” you said softly as you reached out to place your hand on top of his. He stiffened beneath you, but nodded once and let go of the gun.

You would need to figure out what to do about that another day.

The driver’s side door opened without a creak - something unusual in your bunch - and someone stepped out. You stood up and took a few steps toward the truck in an attempt to see who it was. With the truck’s lights still on, you couldn’t tell. You couldn’t even properly see their silhouette. When the lights turned off, you were stuck blinking erratically; the beam of light wouldn’t fade quickly enough.

“You lost?” You called out. The words carried across the now-silent driveway. “Town’s the other way.”

“I’m where I wanna be.”

Every atom of your being sparked at the voice. If you had been thinking logically, you would have remembered Roy was sitting on a box behind you. There were witnesses to your actions. But you weren’t thinking logically. You could never think logically if she was around.

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation before you practically sprinted toward the truck. Your arms knew where to go; they secured themselves around Lorraine’s shoulders as if that was where they belonged. In return, her arms wrapped around your waist, and her breath hit your neck, and her giggles reached your ears, and you were home.

She was your home.

“Got back a few nights early,” she said. Her arms squeezed tighter around your waist. “Thought I’d come surprise you.”

“It’s a good surprise,” you said softly.

You would have been content to stand there for the rest of eternity. With her head resting between your collar and jaw and her arms holding you like a lifeline, you didn’t have a single complaint. Why would you even want to leave? She was your home. She was what made your heart beat so fast you started to question if it would even hold up to the abuse.

“Look who’s back.” Beau’s voice came from behind you like the mighty voice of God himself; calling you out for the very sin of feeling love.

Lorraine pulled away to give everyone a hug, and you watched her do so. No one cared about your… affections for Lorraine; if Roy noticed, he certainly didn’t say anything. He even reached out to squeeze her hand, which was much more than he did for most.

Did he know? When Lorraine pulled up a box right beside yours and let her thigh rest only a hair’s breadth away from yours, did he see? It hadn’t ever occurred to you that Roy might know more than he let on. He was traumatised, not blind. How much did he see that you weren’t aware of?

Would he hate you? Had daddy gotten to him before you had even been born, teaching him that your very existence was a blight on the earth? Your stomach twisted into knots at the possibility. Jimmy was younger, he was more open minded, but Roy? The very thought of him condemning you to hell even after everything he had seen made your chest squeeze and tighten.

“You get yourself a new truck?” Huck asked as he held out a newly opened beer for Lorraine to take. “Looks mighty clean.”

“It’s daddy’s,” she said as she grabbed the bottle by the neck with her good hand.

“What happened to the truck I was fixin’ up?” You asked.

“He gave up on it,” she said with a shrug. “Said she was done for.”

“She was not done for,” you grumbled.

The toe of Lorraine’s shoe pushed gently against your heel; a teasing gesture she had adopted when other people were around. Just something small to let you know she acknowledged what you were saying. A habit you almost wished didn’t exist. The very existence of it meant you both were well aware of the ramifications of any sort of potentially scandalous words or activities. It was humiliating.

Your thoughts wouldn’t stop when everyone started talking and catching up. Lorraine was being particularly open. Nearly every time she came back from a trip, she stayed distant for a few days. The entire town knew you were all best friends, but you both tried to keep nothing but professional. It was fake. It was painful.

What about this break made her throw away that distance? Your chest warmed at the possibility that something had happened with RJ; perhaps everything wasn’t so awful. It wasn’t likely, but you let yourself relish in the feeling even if just for a moment. God could spare you a single moment of peace.

“We all gettin’ together Friday night?” Beau asked. “The usual?”

“Sounds good to me,” Lorraine said. She turned to look at you with a sparkle in her eye. “Think you can handle it?”

Roy’s knee pressed against your thigh at the same time Lorraine’s thigh did the same. Something about the potential judgment from your brother and the warmth from the woman you were forced to love in secret pulled at your insides. Tugging them in different directions, stretching you thin until you wanted to fade away into oblivion.

A moment of peace.

“I’m your huckleberry,” you said with a shrug.

Lorraine’s smile eased the tension in your chest. For the moment.

—---

The worn-down barn had been rearranged since the last time you had visited. The bar took over the better half of the left wall, and the makeshift stage had been reinforced at the back. Your usual table, which was originally found near the front of the barn, was now located closer to the back end of the bar; you could see directly out to the pitch black fields.

That was where your crew found themselves that Friday night; sitting at the table with more than a few empty drinks scattered around. It wasn’t like the Mexican restaurant down the road. There weren’t waitresses and people working there to clean. It was your responsibility to take your empty glasses back so they could be cleaned and reused. And on that night, it was your turn to be the waitress.

“Hey sugar,” Beau called to you when you were grabbing the empty cups to take back. “Get us another round?”

“You’re gonna have me lookin’ like an alcoholic,” you said with a pointed look.

You ignored Lorraine’s angelic giggle.

You also didn’t say no.

“What can I get for ya, Preacher?” Stevie - Stephen on Sundays - asked. “Your boys are throwin’ ‘em back.”

“So’s Rainey,” you said with a slight shake of your head. It didn’t erase your smile. “How’s about somethin’ watered down.”

“You truly are doin’ the Lord’s work,” he said with a smirk that most girls around town fell for. “A small bit of whiskey and some sweet iced tea.”

You mouthed a silent thank you as he got to work on the drinks and you turned to look back out at the scene. It was no surprise to see Beau and Lorraine already up and dancing. They couldn’t get you to dance to save your life, but you knew how much Lorraine loved it. She could have fun and laugh and smile without a care in the world. Did it help that she only danced when she was drunk? Yes, but that didn’t really matter.

The sight of her smiling has that vice grip closing around your heart again. It was cold and made you feel like you were drowning on dry land. Something about it didn’t sit right with you. Love was supposed to be something warm, something you could crawl back home to. It wasn’t supposed to hurt so bad, was it? Surely there was more to love than the hurt that you couldn’t even tell anyone about.

God was looking down on you. You could feel it. He was looking down at you, waiting to smite you where you stood. If he could hear your thoughts, could feel the way your body reacted to just hearing Lorraine’s voice, he would command Satan himself to drag you down to hell. You would feel the fiery pits of hell before you could ever show anyone how much you loved her.

But a part of you didn’t care. You would face whatever was thrown at you just to see her smile again. To feel her fingers brush against your hand when you passed her a bible at church because she had forgotten one again. You would have stood in front of God himself and rejected the heavenly gates if it meant you could hear her voice each morning you awoke beside her.

Blasphemy.

You knew it was.

You’re condemning your God for something that will never come to fruition.

You knew that too.

“Here ya go,” Stevie said, pulling you out of your downward spiral into a controlled madness. “Should help ‘em sober up a bit.”

“Thanks, Stevie,” you said with another polite smile as you grabbed the glasses he held out to you.

Lorraine and Beau were still dancing when you placed the drinks on the table and drug yourself into your seat. It was one of those tall seats that you almost had to climb into if you were a little shorter. Beau always teased you for it, but you at least got to tease Lorraine in return. She was shorter than you, after all.

“Please tell me these don’t have alcohol in ‘em,” Huck said even as he pulled the glass closer to him. “I can’t keep up with those two.”

“Little bit of whiskey,” you said, “mostly iced tea.”

He nodded once. “I can work with that.”

“Think they’ll dance all night?” You asked, turning your head to look at your boyfriend and the love of your life. That ball in your throat reappeared. You pretended not to notice it.

“They’re already stumblin’,” he said with a shake of his head. “I reckon they’ll come back in a bit.”

You nodded absentmindedly and continued to watch the pair. This very scene was a repeat of when she had gotten back a few months ago. The scenes played out in your head perfectly as you imagined the sound of Lorraine’s laughter to go with her dancing. It didn’t cover the sounds of her moans or the feel of her on top of you, but you were allowed an indecent thought every now and then.

If you were going to hell, you may as well enjoy the moment.

God, your mind was a mess. Maybe you needed to get away from town for a few days.

Lorraine’s voice reached you before she did. If you had been blinded, you would have been able to pick her voice out within a moment. Hers was the voice that guided you through your days, instilling a confidence and comfort that nothing else truly could. It rivaled God himself, and you understood how the prophets could be so comforted when listening to Him.

“You didn’t get yourself a drink,” Lorraine commented when she sat down beside you with the same grace as a newborn lamb.

“I’ll just share yours,” you said.

Her toothy smile sent a jolt to your very core.

“You’re dancin’ with me next, darlin’,” Beau said. He attempted to point at you, but just ended up making a mess and spilling half his drink.

“Ask me again when you’re sober, cowboy,” you teased.

“You goin’ to church with us on Sunday, Rainey?” Huck asked.

“Don’t talk about church,” Beau whined. “We’re tryin’ to have some fun.”

“Yeah, I’ll go,” she answered anyway. “So will the rest of the crew.”

That was new information.

“They’re here?” You asked.

“They said they missed y’all,” she said with a smile that was far more sober, almost even bashful.

“You sure they won’t burst into flames when they step foot inside?” Beau asked. You did your best not to laugh when Huck slapped his arm. Lorraine laughed aloud anyway.

You all talked about everything. You talked about nothing. You talked about plans that meant nothing and everything all at the same time. A vacation, perhaps out west, to see the ocean. Perhaps another one to Tennessee, where Huck knew a family that made moonshine in their shed. Or up to those big ole cities like New York, where rumour had it you could get yourself some crab that you didn’t catch out on the Gulf.

Lorraine’s thigh was flush against yours. It was just warm enough outside to warrant shorts, and even though you were wearing your sundress, you could feel her bare skin against yours. The very thought was indecent to its core. There were so many people around that had no idea of the indiscrete touch, yet it was enough to shake you to your very soul.

“I wanna watch you dance,” Lorraine whispered in your ear. It’s possible it wasn’t a whisper at all, but with the band and talking all around, no one else would have heard.

“I didn’t think you liked watchin’,” you said with a straight face that completely contradicted your teasing thoughts.

“I like watching’ if it’s you,” she said with a mirrored expression.

Damn her and those beautiful brown eyes of hers.

“Come on, lover boy,” you called out to Beau even as Lorraine brushed her knuckles against your thigh underneath the table. “You get one dance.”

“I’ll take it,” he said quickly.

He downed what little was left in his glass before hopping down from the stool. Your feet had barely touched the dirt floor when Beau grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. He was far past tipsy, though you wouldn’t quite say he was drunk. He was, however, well on his way.

“Just a nice lil two-step,” he warned you.

“Don’t drop me,” you warned.

He smiled the dopey, crooked smile that Huck loved so much. “Darlin’, I wouldn’t dare.”

As much as you hated dancing, it wasn’t half bad with Beau. He was one of the best in town, there was no denying the fact. There was something about his two-step that made it different, a little more special. He could have led the blind with how confident he was. Each step, each twist, each dip, you just simply had to follow. Not once would he ever leave you to falter.

You gave him more than one dance; after all, how could you stop when you had seen the look on Lorraine’s face as she watched? What would it feel like to dance with her, you wondered. Would she prefer to lead, or follow? How would her hand feel resting on your hip for something as simple as a dance? Would it send the same jolt of passion through you as everything else she did?

Once the music started to die down, you could feel the blisters starting to form on your heels. You couldn’t recall the last time you had danced in boots, and your feet were reminding you of such a thing. With a small grimace, you realised you would have to take care of them once you got home. The last thing you wanted were untreated blisters.

“I’m done,” you told Beau. You weren’t looking at his face; you were too focused on your feet. “I think I’m gonna regret this come mornin’.”

His grip on your waist tightened. “How’s about one more?”

“I ain’t losin’ my feet for a dance,” you said with a light laugh. You went to turn towards the table, but he pulled you back.

“Just one more,” he insisted. “Then I’ll let you escape.”

You tried to pull away again. “I reckon I really just need to sit dow-”

-Beau’s lips were pressed against yours before you had time to acknowledge the fact. He was pulling you tight, and your hands pushed lightly against his chest. His lips were chapped; they were nowhere near as soft as Lorraine’s. That was the only thing you could think about as the kiss seemed to drag on.

Until it clicked that you were kissing Beau.

No, he was kissing you.

You finally managed to push him just far enough away for you to look at him. He was looking down at you with startlingly sober eyes. That wasn’t like him at all. In all your years of knowing him, he had never sobered up so quickly in his life. He wasn’t a lightweight, but once he was gone? He was gone.

“What the hell was that for?” You asked softly enough for no one around you to hear.

He didn’t answer.

“Beau,” you insisted.

His eyes flickered above your head before meeting yours once again. What was he looking at? You shouldn’t look. The internal voice that so often resembled your guilt sounded more desperate. Desperate like the look on Beau’s face. It was right, you shouldn’t look.

You turned around anyway.

You didn’t immediately see anything out of sorts. Stevie was starting to pack up at the bar, indicative of either shift change or the barn being out of alcohol for the night. At the table, Huck was facing the bar and throwing back a shot that you didn’t recall him getting. Hadn’t he said he was done drinking? He wasn’t really one to go back once he was done.

Until you locked eyes with Lorraine. Who was standing right outside the barn in front of a kneeling RJ. Who’s left hand was clasped between both of his. Who looked painfully sober while he slid a ring onto her finger. Who looked at you with the same look you got from Jimmy and Huck and Roy when she was with RJ.

You weren’t supposed to look.

Each beat of your heart hurt.

“I think I’m done for tonight,” you said around the lump in your throat.

Beau’s arms held you tighter to his chest. “I’ll take you home.” His heartbeats hurt too.

“No thank you,” you said before finally turning back around to face him. You tried not to think too much about the look on his face. “Stay here with Huck and celebrate.”

“Baby-”

“-It’s alright,” you interrupted with a smile that convinced no one. “Stevie’s goin’ my way anyway.”

Every inch of your body was both numb and engulfed in pain all at once. You stood on your toes - ignoring the sting of raw blisters on your heel - and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. He had a bit of stubble; it was scratchy against your lips and made a nice momentary distraction. It wasn’t enough.

He only tried to hold you close for just a moment more. It was nothing more than a half-hearted attempt, and the instant you pulled away, he let you. With each step, you focused on your heels. On walking carefully so the rough leather of your boots wouldn’t tear them to shreds. A practiced walk that any true Southerner had mastered by the time they were old enough to dress themselves.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up when you approached the table. It was itchy and you wanted to scratch it until you ceased to exist. But you didn’t, you kept your hands clasped politely in front of you until you grabbed your hat off the table.

“I’m headin’ on home,” you said to whoever was sitting at the table.

You knew who was at the table.

“You okay-”

“-Just feelin’ a bit sick ‘s all,” you interrupted Huck with a dismissive wave and a fake smile. No one was convinced. “Guess I can’t hold my liquor.”

“Need us to drive you home?” RJ asked. His voice alone set your nerves alight and a new pain radiating across your skin.

“I’ve got a ride,” you said. The next word forced its way out of your mouth. “Congratulations.”

She was looking at you, and you knew it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same. After all, why would you want to see the confirmation on her face? Did she not know what that would do to you? Your heart was barely getting by as it was, you didn’t need to add her pity to the mix.

You patted Huck on the shoulder before turning away, placing your hat back on your head in the process. It still smelled like Lorraine from when she had worn it earlier in the night. The act had made your fingers tingle with hidden excitement. No one had guessed the hidden meaning behind it; it was lovely.

Now it didn’t matter.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Stevie asked. Oh. You were at the bar. “You’re lookin’ a little green.”

“Just feelin’ a bit tired,” you said. “You headin’ my way?”

He tipped his hat. “Sure am.” A shit-eating grin took over his face. “Want a shot and smoke for the road?”

You should’ve said no. Stevie was someone you trusted greatly, and it was clear he wasn’t planning on taking the shot with you. Well, it wasn’t clear, but he only set one shot glass on the bar, so you assumed as much. But it wasn’t about his potential drinking and driving, it was the way it would look. It wasn’t proper for you to be leaving the bar with a man who wasn’t your boyfriend.

Your hands shook. Then again, it wasn’t quite proper for RJ to show up on your night out and propose to the woman you loved, either.

“I’d love one,” you told Stevie with a smile.

“Atta girl,” he said as he poured the whiskey into the glass. Bottom shelf; more than suitable for the job. “The smokes are in the truck.”

The hair on your arms stood up again. You tried not to think about it as you threw the shot back. The sting of alcohol hit your stomach like a semi hitting a brick wall. Nothing was appealing about it, and yet you weren’t disappointed. The sting was better than the pressure getting heavier and heavier on your chest.

“Alright, you ready?” Stevie asked when you slid the glass back toward him.

“Yessir,” you said with a smile that you hoped was more convincing than the last few.

It seemed it was.

The whole group was staring at you, you could feel it. Looking at you in pity, like a stray dog no one wanted. Everyone would feed it, would love it, would treat it well until the moment it came time to go inside. Then it would be left on the streets to fend for itself. With any luck, it would survive until the next encounter, but no one would take the risk of bringing it inside.

“Here you go,” Stevie mumbled as he held the cigarette pack out to you. It was so worn you couldn’t even tell the brand. You didn’t care.

He held the lighter up, and you leaned forward to get the spark. When you inhaled, the scalding ash burned every inch of your throat. It coated your lungs and took the pressure off your chest, if only to relocate it. The truck started driving off before you could exhale that first cloud of smoke. That was okay. You quickly inhaled again.

The burn showed you what hell felt like.

—---

The sun had risen long ago, and you were still in bed. The dusty yellow curtains were drawn, allowing only the thinnest sliver of light to penetrate your room. Whenever you dared to face the world for a few seconds, you could see the dust motes floating in the air, almost like spring snowflakes.

Momma had talked to Mrs. Day on the phone that morning. You hadn’t been present, but you could hear her through the walls. Her excitement at the news made you sick. You simply held your head out of your window and let yourself be sick before crawling back into bed. The blankets did nothing to block out the world, but you could at least pretend to hide away for a few hours.

You tried not to let yourself think about Lorraine; no easy feat considering she held your heart and soul in the palm of her hand. No, if you thought about it for too long, you felt you might turn into Roy. Stuck in your own head, unable to go about the intricacies of life without the trauma constantly looming over your head. You were more than content to lay in your bed and just rot away.

Hell could go ahead and take you. Surely it was no worse than what you were already experiencing.

“Come on, lazy bones,” momma said as she finally made the bold move to open your bedroom door. “Gramma’s here to help with the garden.”

She didn’t wait for you, but you knew the expectation. When momma asked you to do something, you usually had about 15 minutes before she started to pitch a fit. If you wanted to avoid a guilt trip, you would at least be up and in the process of heading outside by the time she started to get irritable.

You made sure to take up every minute you had. The slightly windy weather was perfect for a pair of jeans, so you made sure to take your time picking them out. The worn pair of garden boots sat in the corner; your heels stung just looking at them. It wouldn’t hurt to work barefoot for the day. After all, God brought you into the world without boots, you could experience another day without boots.

Momma and Gramma were already kneeling in the garden by the time you finally managed to make your appearance. Your hat hung low on your brow to block out the high afternoon sun. It was already hot on your arms, but you could work with it. A bit of sun wouldn’t kill you.

No one said a word as you grabbed the trowel and kneeled next to a still forming row of… well, you weren't sure what it would be this year. Last year it had been carrots, but they hadn’t lasted long. Perhaps this year you would make a bold suggestion of black eyed peas again. You knew you could get it right if you had another chance.

“What’s got you so down today, honey?” Gramma asked after what felt like far too long in the sun.

It had only been about five minutes.

“Does it have to do with Rainey gettin’ engaged?” Momma asked. The question made you sick to your stomach again.

“Yeah, kinda,” you said with a shrug even as you refused to look up at either of them.

“Oh honey,” Gramma said softly, “don’t be upset.” You couldn’t help it. “Beau will propose before you know it.”

Oh. Right.

You didn’t want Beau to propose. You couldn’t imagine anything worse than putting Huck through what you were feeling at that moment. Knowing that his heart would break every time he looked at you, no matter how happy he would be for you. He would have to sit on the sidelines, pretending to be joyous about watching his lover marry someone else.

Would he question God the way you did? Because you couldn’t comprehend why you were getting punished for the very fate of falling for someone you shouldn’t have. It wasn’t like you had planned on falling in love with Lorraine; did He really think you would do this on purpose? After seeing how painful life could be, why would you willingly choose such a life? To not feel a single thing for the man you were “supposed” to be with.

Surely it couldn’t have only been you. Surely you weren’t the only one who didn’t feel a certain way for Beau. Momma felt things for daddy, didn’t she? She had to, there was no other explanation. People didn’t just marry someone they didn’t love, did they?

Did they?

“What does love feel like?” You asked aloud to neither one of them in particular.

“What do you mean?” Momma asked.

You set the trowel down and leaned back on your heels. It stung. “When you look at Daddy, do you ever get, I don’t know, butterflies or somethin’?”

You finally looked up and saw both Momma and Gramma look away in thought. You needed them to confirm it. Needed them to tell you that yes, they felt something for Daddy and Pappy. They felt butterflies, and their palms got sweaty, and they wanted to do everything for them because they loved them. They needed to say it.

“Don’t think I ever have,” Momma finally said.

“Never?” You asked indignantly.

“Not that I recall,” she confirmed.

“How about you, Gramma?” You asked.

She needed to answer differently.

“Not for your Pappy,” she said with a shake of her head. “But I’ve felt somethin’ for someone else before.”

“Mom,” Momma scolded.

“Oh please,” Gramma said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “we’re all grown now.” She turned to look at you. “A man I grew up with.” You kept your eyes locked with hers. “Every time we were together, I’d get this giddy feelin’ in my chest.”

“Did you love him?” You asked.

“I believe I did,” she said with a nod. “He was certainly the one I wanted to spend my forever with.”

The pressure in your chest returned. “Why didn’t you?”

“He wasn’t the one I needed to love,” she said with a shrug before going back to digging up a few weeds.

“How d’you know?” You asked. The sweat made it harder to hold the trowel in your hand.

“God told me,” Gramma said as if it was the most logical answer in the world. “I was s’posed to love him, but I needed to love your Pappy.”

The pressure in your chest turned sharp.

“And you?” You asked Momma. “God told you to love Daddy?”

She nodded instantly. “He certainly did, and I thank Him every day for it.”

“But you don’t feel nothin’ special for him?” You asked. You wanted her to deny it.

“I feel what I’m s’posed to feel,” she confirmed.

You looked back down at the dirt. The tiny little splinters of the trowel handle dug into your fingers as you gripped it tighter. If you looked close enough, you could see a worm or two digging through the rich soil. Would it be easier to be that worm? To not have to worry about who to love, or if God would punish you for desiring someone else?

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Momma said, and you felt her hand rest on your shoulder. “Beau seems to be both the one you’re s’posed to love, and the one you need to love.” You felt sick. “You’re mighty lucky for it to turn out that way.”

“Yeah,” you said with a small smile before digging into the soil again.

Even though Momma and Gramma got back to work, you dug mindlessly with your bare hands, the trowel all but forgotten. Perhaps you had given your Momma too much credit. After all of this, she had ended up with someone that she didn’t love. Gramma had missed out on someone she loved because it wasn’t proper. Three generations of women who were stuck.

Was it a punishment? Surely God wouldn’t punish three generations of women for having feelings for someone. Someone that wasn’t ordained as the “right one” for them. No one could be quite that cruel, could they? What happened to love being something pure, a true gift that was to be held dearly?

Maybe your Momma had fallen victim to the same sin as you. Destined to love someone you weren’t meant to be with. The thought made you sick to your stomach. You were your mother’s daughter. And you were all suffering for the sin of love.

—--

Somehow, some way, you had managed to avoid any sort of small talk with people before church had started. You had stood at the doors to tell everyone good morning, giving Beau and Huck quick hugs before ushering them in. Daddy was already in the chapel talking with everyone, and you were more than happy to practically push the Days in without sparing them a second glance.

You ignored the coiling in your stomach when Lorraine gave you that pity-filled smile.

“You clean up nice.”

For the first time in two days, you allowed yourself to smile for a moment. Maxine was the first to give you a hug, then Bobby-Lynne, followed up by Jackson and Wayne. Truth be told, you had missed them too. There was something comforting about knowing that they accepted you, all of you, and wouldn’t shame you for a single thing.

Except for being a preacher. They still teased you for that one.

“And Beau was convinced you’d catch fire when you stepped in,” you said with a small smile.

“Not yet,” Bobby-Lynne said in her most confident tone. It was a good look for her.

“Everyone’s already inside,” you said with a gesture of your head, “go sit where you’d like.”

“We’ll behave,” Wayne said as he tipped his hat at you.

“Please do,” you called out to their backs.

Only a few more people were left before church started and you could finally close the doors. The kid’s church was in the small connected building on the side of the church. It wasn’t anything fancy, but the whole town had pitched in one year to build it. Something about having their own building made the kids more excited to go to church than anything else. And quite frankly, no one cared what the children enjoyed about it as long as they were excited to go.

“Alright y’all, let’s get started,” you said as you closed the doors behind you.

Daddy had made it clear you would never be the head preacher at church; that right was reserved for when Jimmy got back from seminary. You had tried not to act hurt when he had broken the news to you. The original plan had been for you to go to seminary because Jimmy wanted to go to an actual college. But it seemed none of you would get what you want, and you were all having to live with the cards you were being dealt.

Leading kids’ church was something you enjoyed, so you wouldn’t complain too much. After all, kids were far more open to learning than adults were. They wanted to hear whatever they wanted to hear and nothing else. You couldn’t count the number of times you had preached to the adults and they had come up to you afterwards to debate the meaning of a scripture. The joke was on them, though; you had taken enough seminary to know some of the original translations, not just the watered down version they preferred.

It was a wonderful lesson for the day; love thy neighbour. Something most people seemed to have trouble with at one point or another. Hell, even you had issues with it. There was more than once you had wished trouble up on a neighbour. Particularly when they attempted to belittle you when you were trying to live your day-to-day life. You wouldn’t take it back, but you accepted it had been a fault of yours.

“Alright y’all,” you said when the clock on the wall hit 12:30pm. “Let’s pray for our neighbours before we go.”

“Except those faggots, right?”

“Excuse me?” You said as quickly as the words had reached your ears.

Mr. Dylan’s son - Scott - tilted his head in confusion. You had known it was him; he was usually the one who spoke out the most. And his views were… well, they were perfect copies of his daddy’s views, and that wasn’t something you accepted. Especially not when they came out sounding the way it just had.

“I ain’t prayin’ for those faggots up north,” he repeated.

“Don’t say that word,” you said. “Why would you even say that?”

He sighed and looked at you like you were stupid. “Daddy says those fa-” he paused at the look you gave him, “-homosexuals are dyin’ cause they’re sinners.”

That coil in your stomach from earlier had turned into hot lead. A part of your mind told you to keep your mouth shut; you were in the middle of a church in the middle of a very Baptist town. It was dangerous to say anything that could be considered problematic or un-Christian.

But those people were dying and no one cared. They were suffering for loving someone society told them they shouldn’t. No one was trying to help them, they were just being condemned for something they couldn’t help. All the guilt of the world was being thrown onto them for nothing more than the sake of putting the attention on someone else.

Like you, they were being punished for the sin of loving the wrong person.

You could feel a heat growing in your chest. “They’re God’s children too, and they deserve prayers and love just the same as you and me.”

“That ain’t what my daddy says,” Scott defended.

You couldn’t recall another time you had been itching to beat a child.

“Your daddy is divorced,” you said, “and that’s just as much a sin as anything else. We still pray for him, don’t we?”

Scott thought for a moment. “Yes ma’am.”

“Then we pray for everyone, understand?” You said.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied.

“Good,” you exhaled. The heat in your chest wouldn’t go away. “Now bow your heads and let’s pray.”

The prayer was half-assed at best. You couldn’t stop thinking about what Scott had said. The absolute nerve of Mr. Dylan to tell his son such a thing. You could only be so upset with Scott. He was a kid, and kid’s would mimic whatever their parents said. It was natural, and you wouldn’t fault him for it.

But you could certainly fault Mr. Dylan.

The kids all ran out of the church to go meet up with their parents in the parking lot. The sun was starting to shine down on everyone, and you could feel the asphalt burning through the soles of your shoes. They were a horrible pair, but they were the only ones you had that didn’t rub the blisters on the back of your heels. A small price to pay for the sake of not having nasty scars on your feet.

Across the parking lot, you could see the whole crew leaning against their cars. They were all talking and laughing, most likely catching up. You desperately wanted to go over and talk with them. You wanted to be part of their family again, to feel the comfort in acceptance.

But RJ’s arm stayed wrapped around Lorraine’s waist, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to go through that just yet.

You turned your body to go back into the church; you hadn’t grabbed any of your stuff, and Daddy usually wanted help cleaning up before heading out to lunch. If you could help him then maybe God would forgive you for the day. Surely he wouldn’t hate you if you were in His house-

-a loud smack hovered below the ringing in your ears before you felt the sharp sting.

Your eyes teared up almost instantly, before you could even bring your hands up to press against the tender flesh of your right cheek. That heat in your chest from earlier had frozen, leaving you motionless even as the threat loomed above you. Even though you couldn’t make out the words, you could vaguely hear the low rumble of a voice over the ongoing ringing.

When you finally managed to blink away a few tears, you looked up. First you saw someone’s back; they were so close you could smell them. Beau. In front of him was Mr. Dylan, standing tall and furious. He looked like one of the avenging angels. Was he coming to kill you? To end your miserable life and escort you down to hell himself?

“We may not be in the church, but this is still holy ground,” Beau said. He sounded angry. He was never angry.

“Then you best take her out back and beat some sense into her,” Mr. Dylan said just as angrily. Perhaps more. “If she defends those faggots again, I’ll beat her myself.”

“You’ll keep your hands to yourself,” Beau said. At least you thought he did. The ringing still hadn’t gone away. “And you’ll take yourself on home. Now.”

You finally locked eyes with Mr. Dylan, and you wished you hadn’t. He was furious. You couldn’t recall a time you had seen such raw hate in someone’s eyes. What could have caused him to have such a visceral reaction to someone’s differing opinions on life? Was that not one of the better parts of life? Being able to disagree and live in harmony?

“I’m watchin’ you,” he said as he pointed a finger in your direction. But just as Beau had commanded, he turned around and left.

“Are you okay?” Beau asked almost immediately.

“I’m fine,” you said slowly, ignoring the slight copper taste in your mouth. “I just wanna go home.”

“I’ll tell your daddy,” he said. “Go get in my truck.”

You didn’t really listen to what he was saying; the ringing had mostly gone away, but things still sounded a little dull. But you knew you could make it to his truck. Your steps were uncertain at first, and you felt like you were drunk. With the way the world tilted ever so slightly beneath you, you were sure you looked drunk too.

You passed the crew without a glance. If they were looking at you, you didn’t notice. The only thing you could focus on was stepping up into Beau’s truck and the warm metallic blood on your lips. Had it come from Mr. Dylan’s ring? Or had you bitten your lip when your head snapped back? You weren’t sure; you didn’t think it mattered.

The window felt cool on your cheek. It was a welcome feeling, easing the stinging sensation ever so slightly. What you wouldn’t give to have a cold steak on it. Maybe a cold washcloth if you could swing it. But as your eyes started to close and the noises stayed at a low thrum, you figured the window was more than good enough.

You were asleep before Beau came back to the truck.

—---

The barn was empty on Tuesday afternoons. Those were the days you used to find yourself hanging in the rafters with Lorraine. Sneaking away before you had found better ways to be together. Your fingers ran over the rough wooden beams that you had sat on time and time again. Even though it ached, you smiled at the memory. You were thankful you didn’t have to pick splinters out of your ass anymore.

“Beau said you were here.”

You could hear the creaky wooden ladder before you saw Lorraine pulling herself up onto the rafter. It had been just long enough for instinct to kick in, and you looked at her left hand. That ever-present pressure in your chest eased a little when you noticed she wasn’t wearing the ring.

You should have been ashamed of being relieved.

You weren’t.

“How’s your cheek?” She asked. Her hand lifted and hovered over your cheek before she thought better of it and let it fall back to her side.

“Fine,” you said with a shrug. You both knew it was a lie. The bruise had turned an ugly dark that circled your eye and highlighted the split of your lip.

“I don’t love him,” she said without hesitation.

“I know,” you said with a nod as you sat down on the barely-standing hay bale.

Lorraine sat down beside you and let her head rest on your shoulder. You desperately wished she wouldn’t. Her touch still sent a fire down your spine. The feel of your heart beating in sync with yours was enough to drive you to near-insanity. You craved her touch far too much for her to be so gentle with you.

“Can we please talk when I get back?” She said softly. “We have to.”

You didn’t want to talk. Honestly, that was probably the very last thing you wanted. No part of you wanted to hear about her having to marry RJ and pretend to be happy about it. Yeah, you knew it was going to happen. Some part of you had always known it would happen eventually. You were hopeful, but you weren’t stupid.

What you really wanted was for her to hold your hand. To pull you in for a kiss without fear of getting lynched. You had just gotten beat outside of a church, but you wanted to be able to feel love without fear of reprise. And you couldn’t even have something as simple as that, because you wouldn’t dare put her in such a position.

Lorraine lifted her head when you still hadn’t said anything. Her eyes held that pity that you hated. They always seemed to hold that pity when she looked at you. You dared to lift your hand to cup her cheek. The scars were healing up nicely, and you could barely tell the difference when your thumb rubbed lightly against her cheek.

You shouldn’t have done it. The crew was in the driveway, waiting for her to come down so they could get going. You didn’t care. You leaned forward and kissed her lightly, ignoring the sharp pain in your cheek. Her lips were warm and soft; they always were. She tasted of home.

As you sat there, kissing the woman you loved with the desperation of a man on his deathbed, you believed you would be happy if those were your last moments. If God had come down in that moment to take you, you would have been content. The last thing you would have experienced was a moment of love and the taste of Lorraine on your lips.

“I love you,” you mumbled against her lips.

You hoped she understood the many other things you were trying to convey with those three words. I love you. You’re my home. I have betrayed my God and my family for you, and I would do it again. The world hates me and wants me dead, but I would give up everything for you. Only you.

“I love you too,” she said just as softly before leaning forward into another kiss. Something softer. Somehow holding more desperation than the last.

It was all over far too soon. It was bound to be over too soon. Lorraine had a life outside the four walls of the barn, and you were being called back to the church. When she pulled away, you chased her lips for a moment more. One more kiss, one more touch, one more instance of the comfort and turmoil and peace that she instilled within your soul.

“I promise I’ll be back,” she said. “Please be here when I get back.”

You nodded. “I’ll always be waiting for you.”

Her answer was one more kiss, filled with everything she didn’t have time to say. It could have lasted for the rest of your life and it still would have been too short. When she pulled away, everything felt cold. But you were brave. You watched Lorraine head back to the ladder and pause. The tears in her eyes matched your own. As much as you hated to see her cry, it left a feeling in your chest that she hated leaving just as much as you did.

“I love you,” she said. Perhaps a bit too loud. You didn’t care.

“I love you,” you repeated.

She bit her lip and continued her way down the ladder. You let the tears fall freely as you listened to her boots on the gravel making their way to the van. It started up quickly and they were gone almost as soon as the van door closed. The barn didn’t feel so familiar when she was gone. No, it felt empty, foreign.

Sinful.

You waited until the moon was high in the sky before coming down from the rafters. It wasn’t wise to be out so late, but you had nowhere else to go. Beau and Huck had left the night before to help with an emergency, and home held no comfort. All you would have done was rot away in your bedroom, and even that didn’t sound desirable.

Instead, you found yourself walking to the church. It would take a solid thirty minutes, but that was alright. After all, what else would you be doing? You were certainly in no mood to sleep. You wanted to stay awake so you could remember the feel of Lorraine’s lips on yours for as long as possible.

She was right, you would need to talk. Even if it was a talk to cut everything off completely, you both needed to be on the same page. Neither one of you had to be happy about it, but the inevitable was coming to fruition. At some point, one of you was bound to get married. And not to each other.

Perhaps you could all still live near each other. It wouldn’t be the same, and you would still have to hide away, but it would be better than nothing. All you wanted was to stay close to Lorraine by any means necessary. If that meant you could only stay close to her as a friend, you would do it. It would drive stakes into your heart day after day, but it was better than losing her forever.

Your feet were aching by the time you reached the church. Like the true Southern child you were, you had gone barefoot for the night. Your body was used to it, but that didn’t mean the long walk on dirt and gravel wouldn’t leave its mark. Not a single part of you cared about the dust as you opened the church doors and walked into the chapel.

The candles up front were the first things you lit. They weren’t numerous, but they were enough to light the small part of the pulpit that you kneeled in front of you. The carpet was rough against your knees; you must suffer to worship God, your Daddy had said at one point. Nothing about your beliefs were easy, and that was the point.

You rested your hands on your thighs as you looked up at the cross hanging behind the pulpit. It was a simple wooden cross, stained white. If you looked at it hard enough, you could see every one of your sins staining the cross. A horrific red against the startling white.

You wanted answers. You wanted to know why you were being punished. Had you not been good? Had you not been dutiful in your passion for Him? You had done everything you had been told. You had preached, you had read His word, you had followed His rules to the letter. Most people struggled to follow the most basic of rules, and they certainly weren’t being punished.

Tears welled up in your eyes not from sadness, but from anger. He had created you. He had known everything about you and had created you anyway. And now you were being punished for that very same existence? No, you had been good, you had behaved. You were a good girl. What would it take to prove that you were good?

The church doors clicked.

You hastily wiped the tears from your eyes and stood up. No one was supposed to be at the church, it was late. Whether it was a person or an animal, no one was supposed to be around. Should you defend yourself? Daddy usually had a gun at the church, but he had started taking it home lately to prevent accidents.

“Needed some extra prayers?” Mr. Dylan asked. His voice gave him away before you even turned around.

He was in his usual work clothes, but his pistol rested loosely in his hand. Part of you hoped he had brought it for protection from the coyotes and wild boars that liked to roam during the nights. You weren’t entirely stupid enough to believe your own hope.

“How’s ‘bout I pray with you,” he said as he walked closer.

You didn’t want him to. You wanted him to go on home, and you would go on home as well. Neither one of you needed to be in the church so late at night, you both needed to be home. Your families were waiting for you, weren’t they? It wasn’t proper for you to be in the church alone with a divorced man.

“Mr. Dylan-”

“-go on,” he insisted as he used the pistol to gesture to where you had been only moments before. “Kneel and pray.”

You did as instructed. “What would you like me to pray about?”

“Ask God for forgiveness,” he said. You couldn’t see him from where you were kneeling. “For the both of us.”

The carpet still stung on your knees.

“Forgiveness for what?” You asked. Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears you weren’t sure if you would even hear him.

“See if He’ll forgive you for that hellish demon you’ve been afflicted by,” he said.

You kept your mouth shut. You couldn’t recall what he meant. Yes, you had defended homosexuals on Sunday, but surely that wasn’t worth threatening you over, was it? He was a bit rash in his decisions, but he wasn’t ignorant. He wouldn’t risk jail just for this.

“And for you?” You asked.

“See if He’ll forgive me for doin’ His work.”

You heard a familiar sound from the pistol. Your hands shook. Your mind was screaming at you to turn around, to face him. He wasn’t the bravest man, there was no way he would kill you if you were looking him in the eye. And yet, your heart told you to close your eyes and pray.

“Somethin’ ‘bout you never sat right with me,” he continued. “Never figured you for one ‘a them queers.”

You had heard of this happening. Really, you shouldn’t have been surprised. But you were. You were scared. There was no beating around the bush, you were flat-out scared. He was holding a gun to your head. Wasn’t that something Daddy had always talked about in church? If someone held a gun to your head and said he’d shoot you if you were Christian, would you admit it? You had thought it was just some silly question he used to get people to think about his lesson.

You had never imagined he would be right.

“I shoulda done somethin’ ‘bout you years ago.” He just couldn’t quit talking. He’s nervous. “I ain’t gonna let you ruin these kids.”

He cocked the gun again; he must have uncocked it at some point. He just needed to get it over with already, what was he even waiting for?

The shaking in your hands stilled. Perhaps it would be for the best. The suffering would end. What would it be like not to hurt? Surely Lorraine would be alright, she had RJ and the crew. Beau and Huck would keep her safe. They always did. You wouldn’t have to feel that pressure in your chest and you could still watch over her anyway, couldn’t you? Probably better than you were now.

Something cold pressed against the back of your head.

“Say one last prayer.”

You risked tilting your head up to look at the cross one more time. Maybe it was time you died for your sins. After all, you hadn’t lived with the guilt for years without thinking this would happen eventually. How long had you truly thought you could get away with such a secret? No, this was bound to happen.

Lorraine had been smart enough to get out of town. She had gotten herself a beau that would be suitable for the purpose and had left. No one had any time to question her, and as much as you hated it, she had been right. Maybe she could be safe after all of this. Maybe she wouldn’t have to be so afraid.

She would forgive you. Lorraine had never been one to hold a grudge against you. Against others, sure, but not you. You were glad you had told her you loved her earlier. It eased the guilt. She knew you loved her; she knew you would have died for her. You were just upholding your end of the bargain.

You squeezed your eyes shut and let the guilt start to fade away. You had spent so long afraid of what God would do to you for your sins. Seemed He didn’t really care all that much; it was man who cared. No one was going to come save you. You let your mind wander to Lorraine as the barrel pressed harder against the back of your head.

I don’t want God’s forgiveness. I want Lorraine’s.

The metallic sound made you flinch, but you didn’t hear the shot. Your body froze completely. Had you missed it? Were you already dead? It didn’t even hurt, maybe it was quick. That was the best anyone could hope for, right? For it to be quick and painless.

You cracked your eyes open and looked around. It was still your church. The cross still loomed over you like some holy judge and executioner. Were you in purgatory? Well now, that would just be worse than hell, you believed. An entire afterlife full of nothing? You would rather burn in the fiery pits.

“I suggest you step away from my sister.”

“Roy?” You asked immediately even though you knew you should have kept quiet.

You turned around quickly, ignoring the carpet burns on your knees. It was him. Roy was standing near the back of the chapel, rifle held in steady hands. You didn’t know he still had one. It was aimed directly at Mr. Dylan who, for the first time, looked surprised.

“You’d best put that gun down, boy,” Mr. Dylan said. “This don’t involve you.”

“It does if you threaten my sister,” he said again. He wasn’t looking at you but gestured his head. “Come on, sweetheart.”

��Stay where you are,” Mr. Dylan said. He froze when Roy readjusted the rifle.

You kept your eyes on Mr. Dylan as you slowly pushed yourself up to your feet. His grip on the pistol tightened, but he otherwise stayed still. Each step you took was slow, calculated. It felt like you were walking before God to the gates for judgment. Your every move was scrutinised and all it would take was one wrong step.

But he never did anything. He just watched you until you were standing firmly behind Roy. The shakiness that accompanied his every move was gone, replaced with something you didn’t recognise. It was reminiscent of the old Roy, the one who had never gone to war. The only difference was the dull look in his eyes.

“Go get in the truck,” Roy said softly.

“What?” You looked at him. “I ain’t leavin’-”

“-Now.”

There was a harsh tone to his words. Authoritative. He sounded just like Daddy when he was preaching. It left no room for argument; his word was law. There was too much comfort in the way he held the rifle. If you left him, would he kill Mr. Dylan? Would he kill a man in the middle of the church?

He had nearly done the same to you.

Perhaps that was a good point.

“Okay,” you said aloud since he wasn’t looking at you.

You backed away slowly, keeping your eyes glued to the both of them. The last thing you wanted was to turn around and have something happen. It would have been shameful to go out that way. But no one else moved; they just stared at each other until you were out of the church and could run to Roy’s truck.

The silence was almost painful. You could hear the crickets outside creating a symphony with the locusts. If you strained your ears, you could hear a few frogs. But you weren’t listening to the wildlife; you were listening for the gunshot you were afraid was imminent.

Each second ticked by so slowly you felt you had aged another few years. What was taking him so long? He needed to leave Mr. Dylan alone so you could both go home. You could all get some sleep and pretend none of this had ever happened. You wouldn’t tell anyone if he didn’t, you just wanted it all to be over so you could see Lorraine again.

It felt like your heart had nestled in your throat by the time Roy walked outside. He wasn’t even looking back at the church. The rifle was casually slung over his shoulder, and for a moment, you could imagine him in the war. But then he got in the truck and tossed the rifle in the backseat.

He didn’t even put on his seatbelt before driving off.

“What happened?” You asked.

He didn’t answer.

“Roy,” you said again.

He missed the road to your house.

“That’s our turn,” you said aloud.

His hands gripped the wheel tighter.

“Roy, what the hell is goin’ on?” You asked again.

“We stay here, they’ll kill you.” The blood in your veins froze. “I know some guys out East.”

You leaned back in the seat and looked out the window. It was dark outside, but the stars were bright. Orion’s Belt was there, just as always. Night after night, he appeared to give you consistency and comfort. You didn’t entirely feel it.

“What about Lorraine?” You asked. There was no point in hiding it anymore; Roy wasn’t stupid.

Roy sighed. “She’s got Beau and Huck.”

His words didn’t put the pressure back in your chest. No, it was something worse now. It wasn't pressure, it was a knife. A knife that had missed your heart completely, keeping you alive as it twisted deeper, touching your very soul with its fiery edges.

Lorraine wouldn’t know what happened to you. She wouldn’t know where to find you. What if something happened and she needed you? What if you needed her? That wasn’t supposed to be the last kiss you gave her. You weren’t supposed to leave without even telling her goodbye. How were you expected to keep going when you knew you couldn’t see her again?

A hot tear fell down your bruised cheek. God had a cruel sense of humour.

You would have rather died. At least it wouldn’t hurt so bad.

#lorraine day x reader #lorraine x reader #lorraine day #jenna ortega x reader

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sugoi-writes · 6 months ago

Note

Can I be 🦇 anon? For some reason I’ve always been obsessed with the flexing part of an arm? I don’t know the technical term but I can’t see Demon Al doing this as much as his human counterpart would sooooooooo human Alastor with his sweetheart who has never EVER soon for him like woman usually do I mean he has ladies fainting LMAOA HOWEVER one day when he’s cutting idk wood or something she sees his arm flex she’s like a puddle I mean full fangirling giggling and screaming and he’s like huh??? Until he realizes and then boom from then on he’s flexing any time he can to pull a scream from her

🦇Anon? Love it! I'm a big fan of bats! This ask was too adorable. I just KNEW I could cook something up!

It does get a liiiiittle suggestive in parts, but otherwise stays perfectly appropriate! FEAST, my dearies!!!

"Love? The fire is going out! We'll need more firewood!" You call from inside. You make your way to the door, your top half hovering just outside as you searched for your darling beau. You've always enjoyed your time with him at his family's cabin, a piece of his inheritance that was used quite often. And, of course, it was highly appreciated by the both of you.

Your eyes dart about until you heard a distinct CHOP, eyes finding Alastor with his axe buried into an old tree stump. His smile widens when he sees you, wiping the sweat from his brow. You feel your pulse race, surprised to see his bare chest gleaming in the sunlight. The humid, thick air that permeated in the South could not be helped, and so, Alastor worked without a shirt on. Even with this simple and understandable notion, you found yourself fond of (and shocked by) the rare sight. You try to make your face pleasantly neutral and wave, trying to save face.

"No worries, dear. 'Already mending that problem!"

You chuckle, leaning fully into the door frame as Alastor positions a new log to cleave through. The Summer was good for one thing, you reasoned; seeing Alastor's chest, bared for only you to see, heaving steadily as he worked. Better yet, you could practically feel the gaze he gave back to you, his knowing smile making you beam every time you saw it. While you weren't like most others, not being overly doting or frivolous about his appearance, you still appreciated and treasured it deeply.

When Alastor returned to his work, your eyes fixated on his hands, then his arms. Indeed, you were very familiar with how powerful they were. They did wonders for and to you. But then: you see a flex. A jut and shift of his bicep has your mouth watering lecherously. As his grip relaxed on the axe, his body bending down to grab another log, you watched the muscles in his arm relax and re-fire. This set of motions repeated for a time, much to your enjoyment. As an extra treat, sometimes a vein in his neck would pop out at the same time his forearms and triceps strained, making your pupils bloom and shrink with hunger.

It was, without a doubt, an extremely alluring sight. Each time the axe raised over his head, your eyes followed, forcing you to stiffle a nervous chuckle. God, he was too beautiful for his own good. He was too strong for you to handle, and far too beautiful to be a called simple, minimalist man. His body was the work of a master craftsman, thank God.

As another piece of firewood was cut, you covered you mouth, stifling a squeal as he brought a towel to his forehead, huffing from his efforts. When he heard your little noises, he turned to you, his smile drooping slightly," Anything the matter, dear?" You were quick to shrink back, waving his concern off with a nervous laugh.

"Ha-ha, NO! No, I'm fine! Don't worry about me! I-I'll start working on dinner, okay?" Alastor doesn't seem convinced, squinting in your direction. His glasses were cast aside earlier, in fear they may fall off and become a victim of his labor," If you say so, dear. I'll be inside in a moment to help with the potatoes, mon cherie." You nod and turn to go inside, your face still boiling hot as you try to distract yourself. Your body starts to go through the motions, chopping veggies that were freshly harvested to use in your stew. You try to focus on the task at hand, your mind lingering on images of Alastor's physique. You had failed at your task stupendously. You felt no remorse!

You couldn't help but squirm at the mental images: veins and muscles shifting from physical effort. That devilishly handsome smile and toned body... it made your heart race! You wondered what his arms must've looked like when he was hovering above you... Your grip was tightening as you chopped the veggies faster, your safety disregarded. You giggle to yourself, eyes closing momentarily to focus on the pleasant thought of Alastor caging you with his muscular arms until--

"FUCK-- shit!"

No sooner did you wail was Alastor at the door, slamming it open," What happened??? What did--"

Alastor's eyes were wide, pupils shrunken to mere pinpricks as he took in your form. You held your bleeding finger, huffing.

"I-It's fine, it's fine! I'm fine!" You reassure, grabbing a handtowel to press to your wound. Alastor strode over to you, tongue clicking at your carelessness. As he went to put his axe down, your eyes caught his arms again, yelping as you turn away hastily. Your sudden movement left your partner clueless.

Alastor pauses again, a brow raising," My love, what's gotten into you? You've never been this careless before..."

You shuddered as Alastor came behind you, hands resting on the counter on either side of your hips," Are you sure you're quite alright?"

He leaned in to kiss your cheek, coaxing you into looking his way. You began yelping again, your mouth slamming shut as you tear your eyes away from his body. Alastor grumbles, slightly annoyed with your silence," Sweetheart, I can't help you if you don't use your words--"

One hand snatches you by the hip, spinning you quickly around while the other takes your wounded hand.

You eyes are blown wide, unable to make eye contact as they stare down at Alastor's arms," I-Im fine, really just-- just got lost in my thoughts! I promise!"

Between Al's proximity, his partial nudity, and those arms trapping you, you felt like your face blazed hotter than the fucking Sun. Alastor seemed to catch on, watching as your legs squeezed, shifting your weight uncomfortably. He leans closer to you, the muscles in his torso expanding and contracting with his movements. You sigh shakily, stifling a blissful squeak. Ahh. So it was him that was causing you to fret...

Alastor began to chuckle slowly at first, before laughing heartily. You stammered as a large hand came to your shoulder to steady himself, your lips blubbering pathetically. He was laughing fairly hard, causing his abdominals to flex and seize (a sight too delicious to behold). You were whining, on the verge of squealing as you weakly pushed against him again.

"A-Alastor, if you don't back up, I just might NOT be okay!!!" Alastor couldn't help himself, working himself into short bursts of stitches as he calms down, eyes watering.

"Ohhh, dearest... honestly, was I really that distracting to you?" His voice was low and flirtatious as you felt yourself being pressed into the counter, his hips holding you in place. You nearly shrieked as Alastor's hands gripped the counter harshly, knuckles white. Your mouth fell agape with a silent moan as the muscles in his upper arms and pecs stirred once more. You push against him once more, feeling as though you would pop like a balloon.

"A-Al, this isn't cute!!! Stop it, please!" You practically whine as Alastor just leaned, kissing your bright, heated cheeks.

"Well, I suppose I could go chop more wood, if the space could offer you some reprieve..."

You gasp as your chin is pulled forward, forcing you to make eye contact with him. If you weren't in your prime, you'd fear having a stroke at the sight of his almond colored eyes staring back into yours with a tumultuous energy.

"But, I think we both know you'd prefer that I stay rii~iiight here, don't you?" He teased, his lips dangerously close to your own. Your own lips quivered at the relentless pestering, your eyes struggling to make contact again," W-Well, I-- you know I-- uugghhh, if you keep teasing me, dinner is going to be late!!!"

"That's fiiiine by me!" Alastor says in a sing-song tone, and to your horror, you are lifted and placed onto the counter with minimal effort. Your eyes become transfixed on him, unable to clench your legs closed. Alastor knew exactly what he was doing, and he wasn't going to let you off the hook so easily. Your partner moved to be between your thighs, his voice a husky gravel; his tone was JUST loud enough for you to process.

"How about we start with dessert first, hmm~?"

#alastor x reader #human!alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fanfic #alastor imagine #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #heeeheeehee sorry if its a little TOO suggestibe #we all thirst over this man violently sooooo i figured it would be okay #let me know if youd rather a fluffier one and i can make that happen!#this was so fun to do #gdhdhsjshsja

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ih8simps · 1 year ago

Text

Slightly unhinged/ yandere Gojo (x reader)

“Nanami”

“No”

“Na-Na-Mi” you cooed.

“Again, no” he sighed exasperatedly.

It had been exactly 20 minutes since you began following the sorcerer from Jujutsu tech and you were already giving the senior teacher a head ache.

“Oh come on. What would be so bad about having lunch with me?” You contorted your face into the visage of a pout. Since childhood, this had been the face that broke Nanami’s resolve every time. His eyes danced across your face for a moment, and it almost seemed like he was going to crack.

“No”

“But-“

“Just listen. I can’t. I don’t want to have to argue with him again. He’s just as annoying as you are”

Your face fell. He was always the wedge between you and anything you wanted.

“He doesn’t have a say in who I get to hang out with. Nanami you used to be my-“ the onset of your tantrum was stopped by a warm hand engulfing your arm. His grip on you was sudden yet firm.

“Who doesn’t have a say?” His voice was smooth like velvet and the soft hum of his voice sent a chill down your spine.

“And Nanami was what to you, again?” The grip on your arm tightened with every syllable that fell from his lips. You couldn’t form a tangible thought in his presence. His sudden intrusion left you feeling suddenly very unsafe. When did he get here? How did you not sense his presence?

The intel you received a few days ago said that Satoru Gojo would be far from jujutsu tech. He was supposed to be so far away that he shouldn’t even be able to sense you. How was he here? Did he ever really leave? Why did the informant lie?

Hearing Nanami’s deep sigh pulled you from your thoughts.

“I’m leaving. See you around, (y/n)”. The moment he turned on his heel to leave, your heart began to sputter. Panic began to rise in your bosom. You couldn’t be left alone with Gojo, not even in public.

“Na-nanami. Wait. Please”. The slight pitch to your voice must have coaxed him. He let out another exasperated sigh. It seemed that he was thinking deeply about something. He slowly turned back around to see you pulled closely to Gojo.

“You know. It would be nice to have a meal with you both.” he made sure to loudly enunciate the last word. Both.

If anyone knew of the possessive and obsessive nature of Gojo, it was Nanami. Since childhood he had noticed the way Satoru interacted with you. His gaze was always fixed on you a little too long and his hand always found some way to keep a hold onto you. It was no secret that Gojo had been unparalleled in his all consuming obsession with you.

Nanami was there the day young Satoru Gojo proclaimed to all of the students, although there were so few, that anyone who was dumb enough to get too close to you would have to get through him first. That day was the last real day of your individual freedom.

As the strongest son born into the family, it was clear that Satoru was going to be the next head of his clan. He never truly flaunted his status or threw around his influence. The day he proclaimed you as his, he was simply voicing what he considered to be obvious.

It didn’t seem that his message had the impact he intended because 2 weeks after his announcement, he saw you gallivanting around Tokyo with a new beau. Satoru didn’t even register what the boy looked like before he ripped you away from him. He said nothing as he dragged you away from him. The iron grip he had on your arm felt like he was truly trying to crush you.

Some part of you believed that was the day Satoru truly had lost his mind when it came to you. A week after that you realized that your family had been acting strange. Your father had more meetings than ever before and your mother seemed to be lost in deep thought at all hours of the day. The unspoken issue in your home came to a fever pitch when your parents finally broke the news. The Gojo clan had requested something from your family that only they could supply.

“Satoru wants you” your mother whispered, tightly grasping your hand. “H-he has threatened taking rash action if we decline” she continued, not even allowing you a moment to question her words.

“I’ve been meeting with the clan every day and it seems that he wants nothing else. There is no way to keep you from doing this, (y/n)” your father’s voice came out low and shaky. You realized you’d never seen him look so defeated. “I offered them many things, but they cannot decline a request from the next head of the family. He’s offered not only to take care of you, but the rest of our family as well. The only thing he wants in return is you. He’s quite adamant” he mumbled shaking his head in what looked like disbelief.

Time seemed to freeze as you took in his words. You’d been practically sold off to Satoru. You knew he had a powerful position, but you didn’t know he could just get his way like this. Every part of your body shivered in anger and disgust. He was like a plague or a natural disaster. He swept through a place and destroyed everything in its path.

Life was never the same after that. All of your things were moved to the Gojo compound and you began your life as Satoru’s ‘special guest’.

11 years later and you were still under his constant watch. There were days and moments when you felt like you were truly alone but those moments were short lived. The longest you had gone without being under those all seeing eyes was three months. Those were three of the most comfortable months of your life, but today because you were summoned by the higher ups, that comfort was surely over.

“(Y/n) can’t go to any meals with you today actually” if you didn’t know him, you’d think his tone was calm but that was quite the contrary. Satoru was seething. You’d been missing from his sight for three full months. He’d want everything from you now, including an explanation.

You carefully turned your gaze to his. “But Gojo I-“

A look of pure rage swept past his opalescent eyes and you knew instantly that you’d made a mistake. You were never supposed to call him that. It took him years to break you out of that habit and in only three months you were back to square one.

“We’ll have to take a rain check” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes, “we have things to discuss”.

#x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo #satorugojo #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #yandere gojo #unhinged gojo #yandere x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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the-froschamethyst4 · 4 months ago

Text

Bull Rider

𖤐Pairing: PBR! Price x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, smut, kissing/making out, language, children, married couple, nipple play, groping, P in V, reverse cowgirl,

𖤐Summary: You watch your husband John Price, a professional bull rider, but Price is a bit upset with himself because he didn't beat his own record and he let's Y/n help him with being a frustrated

————

John Price a Professional Bull Rider walked down the long hallway saddle over his shoulder as he was heading to the ring. He loved his job of being a Professional Bull Rider bring home the money for him and his family.

Y/n sits in the bleachers waiting for John, Iris her year old daughter sits on her lap and her 4 year old son Beau sits next to her drinking from whatever soft drink she bought for him.

"Mama, when is daddy coming out?" Beau asks.

"Soon Beau, it's his turn," she says, patting his dirty blonde hair.

Y/n looks down at Iris who's face was covered in cheese from the nachos.

"Iris," Y/n groans and Iris just laughs as Y/n grabs some wet-wipes and cleaned off Iris's face the best she could.

"And there's John Price's family, his lovely wife Y/n Price, little Iris with nacho cheese all over her, poor mama Price, and Beau, a little spitting image of John Price," the announcer says.

"And speaking of John Price, here he comes now." The other announcer says.

John came into the ring and heads to the shoot, where he'll be riding a bull that has sent multiple bull riders into the hospital. The bull's name is Cash. A 4 ton weighing bull.

John was nervous, Cash was very intimidating bull and if he's in the hospital there is no telling if John will walk away with a broken bone or bones or without his life.

Y/n watches as he gets on the gate and looks down at the black bull. He gets on the back of Cash. He takes a deep breath and wraps the robe around his hand and takes some more deep breaths.

"You ready!?"

"Yeah!" John yells.

Y/n was nervous for Price. She wanted him safe. The buzzer goes off and Cash was released from the shoot, Price on his back and Cash trying to buck Price off, Price just needed to last around 8 seconds on Cash's back, Price's record on the back of a bull was 14 seconds, it was considered a world record.

Cash keeps bucking but has a good hold on Cash. With one final buck Price was knocked off, Cash then goes up and lands on his back and Price quickly rolls before Cash could land on him.

"Holy shit," Price cusses as the cowboys started to move Cash back to the shoot. Price leaned on his knees and started to catch his breath, Price looks at the clock and saw his time 11 seconds.

"Fuck," he cusses again, he wanted to do better.

-------------

Price did end up winning he sits in the greenroom with a glass of whiskey in his hand, he had changed out of his gear and was now in jeans, a random red t-shirt, and black cowboy boots.

Y/n was coming down the hall with her kids behind her, she knocks on the door and opens it. Price sat alone in his greenroom.

"John? I thought you would be with the other guys celebrating?"

"I just wanna go home," John says, placing his glass on the little table next to the couch.

"Okay, come on," Y/n says, taking John's hand and they walked out of the backrooms.

John buckles his kids into their car seats, Y/n gets in the passenger seat and John started up the truck. One hand on the wheel and the other resting on Y/n's thigh like usual.

------------

John carried little Iris as Y/n held Beau, opening his bedroom door and gently laying him down on his bed, tucking him into bed. John came into the bedroom seeing Y/n kiss Beau's temple and telling him 'good night'.

Price held Y/n's hand as they walked to their bedroom together, Price was overwhelmed and stressed, he wishes he beat his own record, 11 seconds!? What kind of bullshit is that!?

Price changed into his pajamas, which was just sweatpants and no shirt, he fell on his back on his side of the bed. He looks at his phone as Y/n was doing her nightly routine.

"John, is everything okay?" Y/n asks, coming into the bedroom, moving the covers over her legs as she moves a bit closer to him.

"Yep," he says, not even looking at her.

"John, I know you, I've been with you for 7 years, I know when something is bothering you. Tell what's wrong." She asks.

"Fine," he turns his phone off and places it on his nightstand. "I wish I did better. I wish I was able to beat my own record. I...I feel like I let you down, I feel like I let the kids down, I didn't do that good tonight-"

"John, John, John, I understand but you didn't let anyone down, not me and not the kids, you did your best, it's not like...I was gonna leave you because you didn't beat 14 seconds, who cares? You have plenty and more opportunities to beat it, just the one time you didn't shouldn't matter," she says, cupping his face, making him look at her.

"Love-"

"Don't love me, I know what you are going to say, and I you're right, I won't understand because I don't do your job, but come on, Price, it's one time...don't let it get to you, I'll still be here for you, the kids will still be here."

She then kissed his lips, once she pulled away, John gave her a soft smile, his hand moving hair from her face, kissing her forehead and then her cheek, then kissing her neck.

"I want you," Price mumbles close to her ear. Price's hands then started moving up her shirt squeezing her breasts, pinching at her hardened nipples.

His lips were rough and dry, but he licks them getting them wet as he kisses her neck again, and then kissed her lips. He managed to take her shirt off tossing it somewhere in the bedroom and then pulled her shorts off next. She was just in her panties now.

Price puts her on her back as he leans over her, removing his sweatpants, he messes with his dick in his boxers, kissing her neck and then started kissing her lips.

He pushes his bulge against her wet panties.

"God you make me so fucking frustrated," he mumbles against her lips.

"Good," she teases.

Price pulls her panties off seeing her slick on her pussy. He puts two fingers against her slick and starts moving his fingers watching the sticky slick string between his fingers. He brings it to his mouth and starts licking his fingers clean.

He pulls his boxers off and lines himself at her entrance and slowly pushes into her, she moans but muffles them by covering her mouth. She didn't want to wake the kids up.

Price laid on his back hands on Y/n's waist pulling her to sit on top of him.

"Bounce, baby," he demands.

She tries to get use to his size and then placed her hands on his lower stomach, and slowly started to bounce, her breasts bouncing with every slight movement, Price smirking leaning his head back and his right arm behind his head, and left hands resting on her hip.

Y/n's head goes back as a few soft moans escape from her lips, she looks down at his bare chest, her nails slightly digging into his chest, he groans but loves the feeling.

She squeezes around his dick. He moans and then places his hands on her waist helping bounce a bit faster.

"Keep going, baby," he says.

She moves a bit faster now, but then starts moving up and then watching as Price dick spit out cum, she moves his dick to lie against his stomach, she then sits on his dick and starts slowly grinding against his dick.

She moans and he does too. She then could feel her high coming on, she starts grinding a bit faster, then with one more grind she felt herself start to cum. She sits up and watches as cum leak from her and land on his dick.

"Fuck," they both moaned.

----------

Price held Y/n against the bed as he starts pounding into her, Price has made her cum at least 3 different times, this was the last time, she ended up coming all of his dick.

Price smirks and looks down at her, kissing the back of her neck and pulling her up off the bed and letting her rest against his bare chest.

"Price, I'm all sticky and I stink."

"It's okay, baby, I'll start a bath for you."

Price left the bedroom and started to run a nice hot bath for her, grabbing a bath bomb and putting it into the bath, he plugs the tub drain and goes back into the bedroom and picks Y/n up off the bed and placed her into the hot bathtub.

Price sits behind her as she leans into his touch and Price starts washing Y/n's body.

Beau had woke up to the sound of laughter, he removes his covers and went to his parents bedroom, he peaks through the small crack of the door seeing Price mess with Y/n's damp hair.

Y/n had on one of Price's shirts and panties as Price was in a pair of boxers, Price kissed Y/n and Beau opened the door.

"Beau?" Price says.

"I can't sleep," Beau says.

"Come here, baby," Y/n says opening her arms and letting Beau come rest in her arms. She starts running her finger through his dirty blonde hair and kissed his temple.

"Mama, why is your hair wet?"

"Just took a bath baby."

"Oh, you smell good, mama," Beau nuzzles his head into her arms.

"Well, I'm glad," Price looks at his wife and son and smiled at the both of them.

"Let's get some rest," Price yawns.

"Right."

Y/n starts moving the covers over Beau's shoulder and holding him messing with his hair and kissing his forehead.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #price x you #price x reader #captain price cod #cod price #captain john price #captain price x reader #john price

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theregencywriter · 8 months ago

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Omg omg omg wait wait wait idk if anyone ever done this before but imagine meeting Colin on his travels and he thinks he'll never see you again so like yall might have shared a kiss 🤭 and then when Colin goes back him for the season and sees you his brain just short circuits and he's just shocked and his family have no idea why lol

Idk I would just love to see that lmao I love seeing Colin in distress when it comes to the women he loves

Over the sandy dunes - Colin Bridgerton X Reader

A/n : I love this request!!!! I saw it pop up in my inbox and I just HAD to write it ASAP, thank you so much for the request <3

When Colin Bridgerton left London to escape all of the recent turbulent events, he felt he could breathe again. With no Lady Whistledown looking over his shoulder or a hundred debutantes wishing for a dance, he could simply relax. It was in his sixth week abroad when he took rest along the shores of a beach in Greece. He had woken up early to catch the morning sun rise and be alone with his thoughts. He liked the guides he had, but to find true solitude with no one around was a rarity even in the smallest of towns. Laying on his back he stared up at the sky as the stars retreated upwards into the deep blue, and as the first rays of light pricked his noses and ran into his eyes he sat up to gaze upon the marvel.

His view, however, was obstructed. Up ahead was a woman on the beach, standing close to the thrashing sea and wearing a light dress with a lilac shawl that was tussling with the burgeoning winds. Normally he would have hated this interruption as he had woken up early specifically to be alone, but when looking at her form and how she seemed to sway ever so delicately he couldn't help but advance.

“Lovely day, isnt it?” As he uttered these words she quickly spun around in shock, making him realise he was probably far too close for comfort ad taking a step back. As she assessed the moment and relaxed she spoke. “Yes, it is beautiful. I’m sorry, I thought I was alone here.” Colin chuckled. “Did you not see me laying down mere metres behind you?” She joined him in a laugh. “I have been walking along the shore for quite a while now. I fear my gaze was fixed on the horizon, nothing could break me from it.”

A moment of silence fell between them. “Colin Bridgerton” he reached out his hand. “I am unsure if I can give you my familial name, but please, call me Y/n.” She gave him her hand and he planted a soft kiss onto it. “You speak with a similar accent, are you from London?” He enquired. “Not quite. I do have relatives in the city, but I live further North, close to Lincoln.”

Colin broke a smile. “Ah, well then, that explains it.” She looked at him, puzzled yet entertained. “Explains what?”

“Well I was unsure of how I could have never seen a face as beautiful as yours during a ball.” She looked down, and bit her lips. “If I may be honest, I was meant to debut this year, but I find the whole event to be pure drabble.” They shared a laugh. “In truth, I much prefer this to a ball. Endless exploration available at my very fingertips. It’s a wonder, is it not?” She looked at him, then towards the sunset, and she was returning his gaze once more he took her in, kissing her as she cupped his face.

This lasted for only a second before he pulled away. “I apologise, that was improper.” “Mr Bridgerton it was-” Another voice called down towards them from Colins residence. “Mr Bridgerton, there is a matter you must attend to!” Despite looking at his forlorn beau, he ran up the sandy dunes and over the hill, leaving Y/n alone.

Hours later, after sitting with the incident and realising he hadn’t allowed her to speak he ordered a carriage. According to his guided there was only one possible place anyone of her status could stay close by, but when he arrived he was informed that the family had left earlier on in the day, whilst refusing to give them their whereabouts. Upon his return to England he attempted to find her. Asking around if her name was known but without her last name, his efforts turned up nothing.

—

Colin fidgeted with his cuff, it had been slightly wrinkled earlier on yet he had no time to change it. He was never really a fan of these events, but knowing that Y/n detested them as well made it worse. The one event they conversed about, yet the subject was how she did not intend to be in attendance. His stomach churned thinking about it. How could he have left? No no, not just left, run up the dunes to get away from her. He had to take a breath and stop himself. It had been a year, he thought, he must move on. As he calmed and took a moment the doors swung open to announce another guest.

“Lady L/n and her daughter, Miss Y/n L/n”

His gaze was transfixed on her. As she came down the stairs her hand grasped by Colin, already a couple of steps up from his eagerness. “Miss Y/n, I believe I owe you a dance” He proclaimed, stroking her finger as he did and wondering about her ring size.

#bridgerton #bridgerton family #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton netflix #a bridgerton story #fluff #colin bridgerton #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x you #colin bridgerton fic #colin oneshot #regency #fanfic writing #oneshot

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askengiecow · 5 months ago

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It had been weeks since they had visited Taurie’s family and Dell was happy to say they had finished the repairs in time for respawn maintenance, but now that they didn’t have all that work keeping them busy, he couldn’t help but dwell on Taurie. The man seemed to be doing good, certainly did a great job reconstructing the kitchen roof, and it was nice how he cuddled up with Dell each night and updated him on how Beau was doing, which he was thankful to hear well, kumquat and his posey taking to her, swimmingly, as Dell would say.

Taurie had still appeared hesitant about Dell helping to milk him after a long day, but Dell was starting to get less of that feeling now. His hands once again being a relaxing reprieve from the pumps, though not as much of a source of intimacy. Most nights so far they had been too tired for such things though they did get a morning tryst or two. However Dell was sad to say he had yet to have Taurie do good on his promise to pay him back for all his missing shirts with wearing his knew chaps, and maybe that was one of the reasons he felt particularly giddy when thinking of his lover and the upcoming week and a half he’d have being alone with Taurie. Hell, maybe he’d even get his ring on the man.

That thought had him grinning like an idiot as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for Taurie to find his way back to the workshop through the crowd of men packing up the bus and trying to get all their arguing out before the trip where murdering each other would be off the table.

After helping Medic carry a few suspiciously marked boxes to the bus(most likely some organs on ice) and resetting the front door after a spat between Soldier and Scout saw the younger man thrown into the wood hard enough to knock it off its frame, Taurie was finally ready for a break. Doing a quick visual check in the vicinity for anything burning, breaking, or blowing up he was satisfied any other issues could wait a spell.

He smiled as he made his way toward the workshop. It had been harder than he thought adjusting to the team again, and he had taken to buckling his helmet back on just in case his watch failed, but with Dell he had never felt closer. They had been busy, true, but hopefully the coming maintenance period would afford them some quality time together.

"Please tell me the AC is workin in here. Hotter than bein snuck up on by a pyros back burner out there." He said, closing the door behind him and coming up behind Dell to rest his arms on the back of the lounging man's chair.

"Think we got everythin in order. Shipment of replacement coolant for respawn came in finally. Once everyone ships out we can get started, whenever ya see fit." He said, swiping an arm across his forehead to clear it of sweat before leaning down to kiss the Texan's cheek.

@dirty-dell

#dirty dell rps

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napoleonic-sexyman-tournament · 3 months ago

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Horatio Hornblower:

a. “He is the wettest soggiest boat man who hates being on a boat and hates his life but is actually very good at being a boat man and fighting Frogs. He canonically invented the shower and has a lot of other boat men hose him down every day. He has so much sexual tension going on with Lieutenant William Bush.”

Arthur Wellesley:

"So, I saw that you had no propaganda for the Iron Duke himself and thought that should be corrected, because I cannot let this man go unloved.

He is the ultimate sexyman. I don't really get that title or the requirements but I do know this man and he is the ultimate in Regency-era sexiness.

Field Marshal Sir Arthur Wellesley, First Duke of Wellington, whose full list of titles merits its own Wikipedia page, he had so many (including Prince of Waterloo of the Kingdom of the Netherlands), was so well known for his debonairness that he was often called "the Beau" or Beau Wellesley.

Our dear Duke with his eyes of "a brilliant light blue," is quite the underdog made good. The fourth son of an Anglo-Irish aristocratic family, he was a bit of a loner as a child, whose star was eclipsed by the academic success of his older and younger brothers. Yet he had a remarkable talent for the violin, which as we know from Mrs. Jefferson is quite a good quality for a man to have. As a young man he was considered extremely good humored and drew "much attention" from female society. The Napiers of Celbridge thought he was a "saucy stripling" and he was also considered quite mischievous. Yet he also had a rich inner life, reading and contemplating the great philosophers of the day.

Yes, we know about his military victories in the Peninsula (the position of Field Marshal of the British Army and the accompanying baton were created for him) and his success at Waterloo, but he was also both romantic and a ladies' man. (I could go on about the military success but that's not really what this is about, is it?)

Want the romantic side? He fell in love with Kitty Pakenham while a lowly aide-de-camp in Dublin but, with no real position or prospects, was laughed away by her brother when he sought to marry her. In a fit of pique he destroyed his violin and turned firmly toward progressing his career. Over a decade later, after he had made something of himself in India, he learned she hadn't married, supposedly because she was still pining for him. Reader, he married her, despite thinking she'd grown ugly, and got two children from her in less than two years. I'm not kidding, this man was virile. They married in April of 1806, their first son was born in February, 1807, and their second son was born in January 1808. Although he wasn't sexual faithful to her, Wellington wore an amulet she gave him for over twenty years, and was still wearing it when he sat with her on her deathbed. When she was surprised he still wore it, he told her if she'd just bothered to check in the last twenty years, she'd have found it. Despite surviving her by twenty years, the Duke never remarried.

Now, please don't think badly of him for the lack of sexual fidelity. It was the Georgian era. Sexual fidelity was not a part of marriage in high society. Men didn't sleep only with their wives and some wives could be quite happy with that (for one, it's much easier not to have one pregnancy after another when your husband is sleeping with someone else). Not that women weren't also sleeping around. Which brings me to one of Wellington's more… interesting conquests: Lady Caroline Lamb, wife of William Lamb (the future Second Viscount Melbourne and Prime Minister). Why do I know that name, you ask? The OG pixie manic dream girl, Caro's much more notably known for her affair with Lord Byron. After that particular bit of nonsense, she was in Brussels with the rest of the English aristocracy during the 100 Days/post Waterloo. She and the Duke supposedly slept together and she took his cloak away as a souvenir.

Who else did the Duke liaise with? Well, there were the usual flings with actresses and singers, such as La Grassini. As previously noted in another post on this tumblr, he was noted as a stronger, better lover than Napoleon by another of their mutual lovers. Wellington also was a client of Harriette Wilson. He visited her when she was in Paris after the Duke of Beaufort bought her off, though this was before Beaufort stopped paying her, prompting her to publish her memoirs. She canvassed her old lovers, including Wellington, to see if they'd pay her not to be in them. Wellington send her a note in return saying "Publish and be Damned." Something about his succinct dismissal of her is just so hot.

Oh, want a bit more of Wellington being a bad boy? In 1829, while Prime Minister, he got into a duel that still is commemorated almost two hundred years later. King's College, London, was set up while Wellington was also advocating for Catholic Emancipation and this led to Lord Winchilsea publicly insulting Wellington's honor to the point that the Duke (who'd never dueled before or supported dueling generally) called him out. They went to Battersea Fields and settled the matter with pistols. Wellington won and Winchelsea apologized. King's College celebrates "Duel Day" every March.

Even better, want to read about Elizabeth Bennet and the Duke being witty and falling in love? Complete with scenes of the Duke showing he knows what to do with his cannon? Then let me recommend the third variation of An Ever Fixed Mark, A Dalliance with the Duke. I dare you not to vote for him for all eternity with that portrayal in your head."

#napoleonic sexyman tournament #brit on brit violence

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peacefxlmyko · 9 months ago

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Family business

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x mom!Reader, Nick "Goose" Bradshaw x wife!Reader, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x platonic!Reader

Ask: "I had an idea for Top Gun, the reader was “Goose”'s wife and Bradley's mother, she is in the Navy and trains the squadron for the mission with Maverick. When Maverick and his son's plane are about to be shot down instead of Jake saving them, she is the one who saves them. Cute ending if possible" by @motherofdragons1998

Tags: Fluff, Angst, obviously Top Gun Maverick spoilers, hints to Hangster 👀, Reader is a widow, Use of Y/N, Reader's callsign is Shadow

Notes: I am SO nervous to post this omfg. This is the first thing I ever wrote based off an ask and I hope I did everything right with it lmao. This is also the longest piece I have ever written. I am not 100% happy with it, but I did my best and I hope ya'll like it! Apologies for any Grammar or in general writing mistakes, English isn't my first language. I am also open for more requests/asks!

Words: 2500+

Story under the cut! ✂️

Getting the call to return to Top Gun after years definitely wasn't something you expected. And finding out that you had to train the best pilots in the world for a suicide mission didn't make your anxiety any better.

After you arrived at the Academy, you were met with Beau “Cyclone” Simpson and Solomon “Warlock” Bates and they introduced you to the Mission.

“Captain Y/N “Shadow” Bradshaw." Cyclone began. “I'm Admiral Beau Simpson and this is Admiral Solomon Bates.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” You replied.

“I hope it's no problem we will be introducing you to the Mission without the other instructor.”

“Other.. instructor, sir?”, your eyes narrowed a little in confusion.

"Yes, you will be teaching the class with another instructor.” Your curiosity was sparked, but you didn't get to ask anything else as they started explaining the Mission.

“The target is an unsanctioned uranium enrichment plant built in violation of a multilateral NATO treaty. The uranium produced there represents a direct threat to our allies in the region.” Warlock started to explain.

After the explanation it as your turn to explain your view on the mission. Then, they revealed who the pilots tasked with the mission were. “We've recalled 12 TOPGUN graduates from their squadrons. We want you to narrow-”

As soon as you turned to the monitor your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat. Bradley.

“Is there a problem, Captain?”

“I just.. didn't expect to see my son there, sir.” You muttered, still a bit in disbelief.

“Bradley Bradshaw, aka Rooster. I understand his father was also a pilot? What was his callsign again?”

Ouch. “It was Goose, sir.”

“Tragic what happened.”

Daggers. With every word daggers were being stabbed in your heart. Not one day went by without you missing Nick. Your husband. The father of your son. The love of your life.

After the briefing, you headed to a nearby bar to try and gather your thoughts. As you walked into the bar, you suddenly saw a familiar figure sitting there. No, two. Two familiar faces.

“Pete?”

The man turned around with a stunned look on his face.

“Y/N?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” You walked closer to him, a smile forming on my face.

“I could ask you the same.”

“He pissed off another admiral.” Penny commented and you cracked a smile. “It's nice to see you again, Penny” You smiled and sat down next to Pete.

“Don't tell me you're going to-”

“Teach a mission here?” You completed his sentence.

“So you are the other instructor! They wouldn't even tell me!” Mav chuckled at your complaint and shook his head a little.

You heard some noises at the other side of the bar and glanced over at the pool tables. There were pilots gathered and you recognised them as the graduates that had been recalled for the mission.

A few more people joined the bar. It didn't even take you two seconds to recognise your son. Hawaii shirt, sunglasses on his nose, that damn mustache like Nick had. Bradley was the spitting image of his father. You also heard someone call out “Bradshaw! Is that you?”

You didn't want to admit it, but sometimes it hurt a little. The way Nick would have been so proud of him hurt. And knowing that you were the reason his papers were held back because you didn't want him to have the same fate as Goose.

As soon as Pete recognised Bradley he quickly turned away, as if to hide from him. “Mav, you don't have to hi-”

“I cost him years of his career.”

“I know, but that was because I wanted it that way. You did it for me, because of Goose. Don't you think it's time he finds out it was me?”

“No, god no. It'll be fine, just.. let it be.”

You sighed and turned back to your drink, taking a few sips.

“How about ringing me up before the evening rush?” Maverick suddenly said to Penny and stood up. You glanced over at Bradley, watching him with his fellow aviators. Hasn't even noticed his own mother yet. You chuckled a little to yourself.

“It's been declined.”

You snapped out of your thoughts when Penny said that to Pete and laid his credit card on the table in front of him. You curiously watched and tried to hide your amused grin.

“You're kidding.”

Soon enough, Pete was getting carried out by three pilots and you watched, not even hiding your amusement.

Then, you heard a few tones coming from the piano and your heart dropped.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane.”

Rooster was playing and singing “Great balls of fire”. The same song Nick loved performing, a little out of key but it was still always the most perfect thing to you. You stared at him in disbelief, his back turned to you. Other pilots were standing next to him, singing along. The whole Bar was watching him. Your little boy.

After he was finished you watched him perform a little funny dance as the bar kept chanting “Rooster! Rooster!”. God, when did he grow up so much?

You stood up and slowly made your way towards him.

“I assumed you would at least let your Mother know when you're on a new Mission?”

You could see the way his heart dropped and he looked like a toddler being caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Mom?” He slowly turned around to you, you had an amused grin on your face.

“This is how I find out you're back at TOPGUN?” You grinned. You could hear his friends letting out laughs and a few comments in the background. “I- uh—”

“Oh, shut up and give your mother a hug.”

________________________________________

The next day, all the pilots sat together in a hanger, ready to be taught about the mission. Admiral Bates was standing in front of them all, ready to explain.

“Your instructors are TOPGUN graduates with real world experience in every mission aspect you'll be expected to master and they are considered some of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. I give you Captain Pete Mitchell, callsign Maverick and Captain Y/N Bradshaw, callsign Shadow.”

Maverick and you walked in together, walking up to the lectern where Warlock stood at first. The pilots turned to look at you both and you could see their faces drop as some of them realized they kicked out their instructor last night.

You shot Bradley a quick small smile, meanwhile he gave Maverick a look that could kill.

You both started to talk to the class, Mav doing the most talking. After some briefing, you all got your Jets ready and then took off into the sky for some training and to show what they are able to do.

The next few days were spent preparing and training, trying to get them ready.

But once during some briefing in a classroom, a fight broke out. Hangman had made a comment about Goose and it set Rooster off, almost going for his throat but you all managed to keep them apart. Maverick dismissed them all for the day.

Bradley went back to the base to calm down, Maverick went to meet Iceman and you.. Well, you drove to the Hard Deck and sat down at the Beach there. The whole time you were lost in thoughts. Was he ready for this? Was I ready for this? Was anybody ready for this mission?

“Oh Nick..” You started to tear up. “I don't want to send Bradley out there. He's not ready. No one is! I-I can't risk losing him too! I.. I just can't lose my son too… He's my little boy.. Our little boy.. When did he grow up so much…? I need you here.. god.. I wish you were here..”

Even though he wasn't here anymore, you knew Goose was still watching over you and listening whenever he could.

________________________________________

It felt like the time until the mission flew by. It almost felt like a blur, as if it wasn't real. And burying one of your life-long friends made it even worse. Iceman could finally rest, but it was still incredibly painful. Seeing Maverick grief him made it even worse.

But in a blink of an eye, you were all on a ship in the middle of the Ocean, about to choose which Daggers would fly. You were going to stay back as Backup and Mav was going to fly with them.

You knew he was going to choose him as his wingman, but you secretly begged it wasn't true. You wished it would be Hangman, but it was going to be your son.

“Choose your two Foxtrot teams.” Cyclone said.

“Payback and Fanboy. Phoenix and Bob.” You both had decided these teams together, but the Wingman was Mav's own choice.

“And your Wingman?”

After a moment of anticipation, he finally said…

“Rooster.”

There it was. Your son was flying the suicide mission. And all you could do was listen through the comms and pray.

Everyone went on Deck and walked to their Jets. As you stood by your Jet, you looked over at Rooster and noticed him talking to Hangman. You had noticed throughout the whole preparation there seemed to be some tension and.. closeness between them. There was at least something.

You turned back to your Jet, climbing inside in case they needed Backup during the mission.

As the mission began and the teams flew away, your heart was pounding. With every minute you felt your anxiety increasing, scared for the safety of your son and also your friend.

You listened closely through the comms, listening to everything…..

“Bull's-eye! Bull's-eye! Bull's-eye!"

Yes! God, yes! They did it!

But now it was time to get back alive…

The rest of the mission was a pure air fight, raw dogfighting. They just needed to make it out alive. Please.

But to your worst fear the enemy planes were focused on Rooster.

“Dagger Two defending. Shit, I'm out of flares!”

“Rooster, evade, evade!” You heard his uncle shout.

“I can't shake ‘em! They're on me! They're on me!”

You didn't know what was happening., you weren't there. You didn't see it. All You could do was listen. Listen and wait. It felt awful not being able to do anything.

There was a moment of silence, only the heavy breathing from the pilots.

“Mav! No!”

“Dagger One is hit! I repeat, Dagger One is hit! Maverick is down!”

Your breath caught in your throat. Mav was hit.

“Dagger One, Status. Status! Anyone see him? Did anyone see him?! Dagger One, come in!” You heard the panic in Rooster's voice.

“I didn't see a parachute.”

Shit.

“We have to circle back!”

You felt your heart pumping, this was all so much. You knew this was a difficult mission, hell, a suicide mission but you still hoped this wouldn't happen!

“All Daggers flow to ECP. You have bandits headed for you.”

“What about Maverick?!” There was a strain in Bradley's voice.

“Dagger Square request permission to launch and fly air cover.” You suddenly spoke up. You had to help. You needed to help.

“Negative, spare.”

Shit!

“Dagger, you are not to engage. Repeat, do not engage.”

“Dagger Two, return to carrier. Acknowledge.”

Bradley, please. Come home safe.

You also wanted to save Maverick, but not with Bandits in the air.

The silence was killing you.

“Rooster, those bandits are closing. We can't go back.” You heard Phoenix say. “Rooster, he's gone.”

It hurt, but Bob was probably right. He was gone. He was with Goose. “Maverick's gone.”

Maverick had sacrificed himself for Rooster. Your best friend had sacrificed himself for your son….

Your heart began to pound as you realized Bradley was flying back. He wanted to save Mav. You wanted to scream at him to get his ass back to the ship, but you couldn't. He wouldn't even listen.

The not knowing was killing you. Not being able to do anything. Being stuck on the ship while your son was out there fighting for his life.

After minutes that felt like hours you heard the words you only wished to hear in your darkest nightmares.

“Dagger Two is hit.”

Rooster was hit.

You could barely hold it together anymore. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, but you had to hold it in.

“Dagger Two, come in. Dagger Two, do you copy? Dagger Two, come in.”

You were horrified. You might have just lost your only child and your best friend. Now you were alone.

One Minute turned into two. Two into five. Five into ten. Nothing. No reply, no sign of life.

You had no idea what the hell was going on in the tower, they weren't talking to you. Not one word. Was there a trace of the two? Were they still alive? You didn't know and it was one of the worst things you've ever felt.

After what felt like an eternity, you were finally given permission to launch and fly to their rescue after they had detected Rooster's ESAT.

Soon you saw them, they were involved in an air fight and obviously losing. You managed to bring your jet behind the enemy's plane without bringing any attention to yourself. That was the way you got your callsign. You were a Shadow, you could easily follow any planes without being noticed.

Just as they were about to shoot down Maverick and Rooster, you fired a shot and hit the bandit. The bandit was down and they were save. They were finally save and back with you.

You flew right through the smoke towards the F-14, you had never been happier to see a jet.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is your savior speaking.”

There was a grin on your face, you had never been so glad.

“Hey, mom, you look good.”

“I am good, Bradley. I'm very good.”

“I'll see you back on Deck.” You flew back and were the first to land. You got out of the Jet and watched everybody put up a net to catch the F-14.

Once they were back on deck you didn't hesitate one second to run towards them. “Bradley!” You shouted.

Everybody came running towards them, cheering and congratulating them.

Maverick got out and first went to Hondo, while Bradley came running towards you.

“Oh, my boy, I thought I lost you. I thought you were gone.” You sobbed and took him into your arms.

“You're not getting rid of me easily, Mom.” He laughed and hugged you tightly, not letting you go for a while. “You're a hero, Bradley. I'm so so proud of you. Your- your dad would be so proud, god-” You teared up.

“I know Mom, I know.”

You parted from him so he could celebrate with the others. The other Daggers immediately came to him.

Once again you could swear there were looks between Jake and Rooster, but you didn't mention anything.

“Captain Mitchell! Captain Mitchell!” You then saw Bradley approach Pete. Without hesitating, Maverick pulled him into a hug. A hug that meant the World.

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“It's what my dad would've done.”

________________________________________

Days after the mission the whole Dagger Squad was sitting in the Hard Deck together, having drinks and cracking jokes. Bradley, of course, sat down at the piano and sang once again. The whole Bar chimed in and sang “Great balls of fire” with him.

“Oh! You're fine, so kindGot to tell this world that you're mine, mine, mine, mine!”

You could have sworn he took a glance towards Jake during that line.

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