#one shot turned series tf

[jiniretracha]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐲 - Jeon Jungkook (1)

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader / Park Jimin x fem!reader (but not quite, you'll see)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Future smut

Summary: You were supposed to spend your happily ever after with Jeon Jungkook... until a family issue causes him to leave and a sudden break up leaves you bereft in the arms of your best friend, Park Jimin.

Word count: 6.7k

PS: this is heavily entirely inspired in the last two episode of True Beauty (so consider this a huge spoiler if you haven't seen it) cause i've been a fan of it since it came out and I just had to do something about it lol

MASTERLIST // my Ko-Fi // SERIES MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 1: 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐈𝐭 𝐄𝐧𝐝?

“Bottoms up!” Seokjin loudly cheered as you and your friends downed your soju shots. 

You looked at your now-empty glass of soju, liquid that was now burning down your throat. But you couldn’t care less about it. It had been the most tiring day ever, like every day since you started being an assistant to a supermodel newcomer, Nari.

Your eyelids were feeling heavy, dizzy with alcohol and sleep that your body was begging for since the beginning of the day. 

“Hey, Y/N-innie,” Taehyung called you, twirling a strand of hair from her girlfriend’s hair, Karina, your high school best friend, while he talked. “Nari gave you trouble today?” he asked, sipping on his drink. 

With a huff and an eyeroll, you nodded, letting your forehead drop on your palm. “Yeah, fuck, you don’t know how much her voice just irritates me, let alone her demands!” you cried, slurring almost every word. “Ever since Jimin dropped me off that one time, like- when was it? Like, a month ago? She’s been bugging me about getting her a date with him ever since” you cried.

“Then, why doesn’t he take her out?” Karina shrugs.

“Because he doesn’t like her” you sighed, pouring more soju on your shot cup.

Seokjin snorts and shakes his head. “Of course he doesn’t. Who wouldn’t?” he asks with a smile. “I stalked her Insta the other day. She’s pretty and all, don’t get me wrong, but bitch is obnoxious” he hisses.

Your eyebrows arch. “See?” you say to Taehyung and Karina. 

Taehyung laughs. “Where is Jimin, by the way?” he asked, his head turning towards the door. “He said he’d be here by 10 and that was thirty minutes ago” Tae said, looking at you.

You let out a huff. “I don’t know, honestly. He said he was practicing with his new band” you downed your soju shot and then let out a cry. “At this point he’ll abandon us for his new friends” 

“Oh no, not another Jungkook” Seokjin chuckles.

But nobody at the table laughed. Not even a smile was sent his way.

Karina glared at him.

Taehyung narrowed his eyes.

And you, you simply stared at the table in front of you. 

“S-sorry. Didn’t realise it was still a sensitive topic. Sorry” he apologised. If he were a dog, he’d have his tail between his legs, and his ears bowed down in shame along with his head. 

You sighed and used it as an excuse to pour another soju shot. 

Karina looked at you and her expression softened with worry. “Y/N, babe, don’t you think… don’t you think you’ve had enough for today?” she asked.

“Nope”

“How many shots have you downed since we got here?” she asked you, placing a hand over yours.

“I don’t know. And I don’t care” you said, throwing back the shot. “That’s better” 

Taehyung sighed and dug his hand inside his pocket. He clicked on the chat he had with Jimin and sent him another text.

Tae: Jimin hyung. We have a problem. It’s Y/N, hurry tf up. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jimin walked inside the restaurant with a pant and looked around in search of his friends.

“Jimin-ssi” Taehyung waved his hand and Jimin walked faster towards them. 

“Hey!” he panted and his eyes fell towards you.

You were slumped over the table, head inside your arms, as you mumbled incoherent nonsense against the fabric of your cashmere black sweater. 

He smiled slightly and sat on the empty seat next to yours.

“Why did you let her drink so much, you guys?” Jimin scolded them as he got comfortable.

“Yo, blame her, not us bro. She’s a big girl” Seokjin cried. “She needed those drinks. Her day at work sucked”

Jimin let out a sigh and put a hand over your back. 

“Y/N, hey. It’s me, come on. Wake up” he whispered gently as he tried to move you.

Your head shot up and you opened your eyes. You instantly smiled and let out a little chuckle.

“Hello, you…” you drawled out, poking his cheek. 

Jimin gave you a toothy smile. “Yeah, hi, sleeping beauty” he chuckled. 

“I’m sorry…” you said and let your head fall on his shoulder.

He froze in his spot and reluctantly put an arm around you, caressing your shoulder.

His eyes looked up and found Tae and Karina smirking at him. He sent them a frown and a grimace, like stop meddling!

With a sigh, you straightened up and blinked your eyes open. “This is all your fault” you spat at him.

Jimin’s smile fell. “Huh?” he asked, utterly confused.

“Every day at work is a day in hell because of that nagging bitch Nari, why can’t you just do me that favour!” you yelled, grabbing his collar and shaking him a little.

“Wait, wait, Y/N” Jimin said, prying your hands off of him. 

“Y/N, go easy on him” Karina chuckled.

You looked at her and then back at Jimin and let him go with a sigh. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jimin helped you out of the restaurant while Seokjin, Karina and Tae trailed behind. 

“You got her, right? You can drive her home?” Tae asked.

Jimin smiled and nodded, looking at you, slumped against him with a drunk smile. “Yeah, I’ve handled her before, so…” he trailed off with a shrug.

“That’s great, please text us when you guys get home, okay?” Karina said to all of you.

“Yeah, we will” Jimin said, waving at the three friends walking away.

“Buh-bye!” you slurred and then hiccuped.

“Come on, young lady…” he said and helped you walk through the streets.

You turned your head to the side and gasped when you saw the river in front of the restaurant. “Wow…” you breathed out.

Jimin let out a chuckle. “You do that every time we go out to this bar” 

You looked up at him and blushed. “I know, I just love the river” you shrugged.

Your friend eyed you and grabbed your hand, “Come on, let’s sit and look at it, shall we?” 

You smiled and nodded, jumping up and down but he grabbed your waist and pinned you to the ground.

“No jumping”

You grumbled. “Okay, grandpa”

He chuckled and helped you cross the street, leading you to sit on a bench that faced the beautiful view of Han River at night. He sighed when he had you sat down and he did the same, next to you. He curled his arm around you and stared at your face. 

“You okay?” he asked you, handing you a bottle of water he had in his bag.

“Thank you, and yeah, I think so” you sighed, drinking a little from the bottle. “I just have a lot going on, that’s all” 

“Tell me”

“No… it’s always the same” you slurred. “It’s me telling you about my problems when you’re probably on your way to becoming the next big thing. You needn’t worry about my stupid middle class issues”

Jimin cackled. “Hey, I’m middle class, too!” 

“Yeah, well. Not anymore, that’s for sure” you grumbled. 

Jimin giggled. “Come on, let’s get you sober” he said, pushing the bottle closer to you. “Drink it, now”

You chuckled at his tone and gave it a big gulp. 

Once you placed the bottle down next to you, you gave him a dizzy look. 

“What’s up” he smiled.

“Jiminnie” you started. “Can’t you just… like- a little bit, just… take her out? For once?” you pleaded him.

“Y/N…” he huffed. “I said no, okay?”

You groaned. “You could make my life so much easier. I'm not talking- like- dating and stuff, marry her or some shit. I'm just asking you to take her to dinner, once. That's all I'm asking” you insisted, putting your hands together in a praying manner.

“I don't like her! I find her just as infuriating as you do” Jimin cried.

“I know, I know. But just once… you can like- totally dump her after that” you continued. 

Jimin looked down, clearly uncomfortable. “Please stop” he told you and you bit your lip, to contain pleading him much further. “Don’t tell me to meet some other girl, alright?” he asked you, with a straight face. 

You frowned at his tone, so unlikely of his character.

“It makes me mad” he sighed. 

“Why?” 

“Why do you ask?” he chuckled and looked away. “I think you should know how I feel by now, Y/N” 

You gave Jimin a confused look.

He pressed his tongue against his cheek. “She’s drunk, Jimin. Come on” he whispered to himself. 

You grabbed his hand and gave him puppy eyes. “Tell me… It’s okay, I’ll probably remember tomorrow” 

Jimin looked at you, completely enamoured by you and his eyes couldn't help but drift down to your mouth. Your plump bottom lip was jutted and it was giving him the mad urge to bite it. But he had to pull himself together. 

You, as drunk as you were, realised that Jimin, in that moment, wanted to kiss you.

“Jimin?” you asked him.

“Yeah?” he asked you, his gaze not pulling away from your lips.

“Can we… can we go home?” you stuttered. “I’m kind of freezing”

Jimin pulled away all of a sudden and blinked. 

Of course.

“Y-yeah, let’s go” he whispered. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The next day, you sat up on your bed holding your head in your hands. 

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m never drinking again” you whispered to yourself.

The door opened and Jimin walked inside the room, holding a cup of tea in his hands and a tablet of Advil in his hand.

“You say that every time” he chuckled.

You sighed and let him sit next to you, as he handed you the cup and the Advil. “I know, but I think this time I mean it” you licked your lips, downing the pill. “Thank you, Chim”

He smiled and put the cup down. “You’re welcome”

You grabbed his arm and smiled, remembering all of a sudden. “How did practice go? Did they tell you when’s your debut date?” 

“Nope” he shook his head. “But I have a great feeling about it, actually” he nodded. “I think it’s closer than we all think”

“I think it’s around the corner. No, it’s behind you. It’s like, breathing down your neck” you smiled, sipping on the tea while he chuckled.

“That’s sweet of you, Y/N” he blushed. 

“I’m just telling you the truth” you shrugged and he pressed his lips together. 

“Thank you” he chuckled. 

You swallowed the tea and left the cup by your nightstand.

“Did I gave you a hard time last night?” you asked him, really not wanting him to answer that question but also wanting him to. “You know, I don’t remember how I got so drunk” 

He patted your hair and gave you a smile. “No, just… you were very insistent” he frowned.

You pulled your face back. “What? With what?”

“With the Nari thing” he replied. 

Your shoulders deflated. “Oh, yeah” you nodded. “Sorry about that. It’s just that… she’s like… making me hate my job”

“But you love it” he frowned.

“I know! I love it, and that’s the worst part” you said.

He sighed. “I’ll think of something” Jimin tried.

Your eyes widened. “You will?” you asked with a smile.

“I’ll try, I said” 

You clapped your hands and hugged him. “Oh, thank you, Chim. I love you!” you squealed.

Yeah… 

“I love you, too” he said, patting your back. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You walked down the steps of the building hall with Jimin, as he grabbed the keys from his car from his pocket.

“Thank you… again, Chim, for taking me here. I’m really lucky to have someone who’s there to save my ass every time” you chuckled. 

He giggled and pushed your shoulder slightly. “Don’t mention it, and don’t get sappy on me. I might throw up” 

You laughed and looked away. “I won’t… sorry” 

You got flashbacks from the events from the night prior.

How he had looked at your lips.

How he had looked at you with want.

You hadn’t been looked like that since-

“Hey, you okay?” Jimin asked you, placing a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back to earth. 

You blinked. “Um, Chim… you- you wanted to say something to me last night. You remember?” you asked him. 

He licked his lips. “I- I- uh…” he stammered. 

You noticed his discomfort and you let out a sigh. 

“Chim… don’t tell me-”

“I’m sorry” he looked away, ashamed.

You closed your eyes. “Chim, come on” 

“I know” he said, his eyes getting teary.

You grabbed his hands and made him look at you. “It’s not worth it… I’m… not worth it”

Jimin smiled. “Yeah, you are. You’re just… blind, I guess” he chuckled a little.

You smiled. “No, I’m really not. I’m a dumbass, who’s too stupid to get over his ex” you exploded. “And you deserve someone who gives you her full attention. And doesn’t have baggage like me”

“Why don’t you let me help you?” he asked you.

“What?” you asked, confused. “With- with what?”

“Help you get over him…”

「 ✦ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

𝐖𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰: 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝? ✦ 」

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 A YEAR AGO 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jungkook walked through the halls of the hospital, his breathing was heavy and his eyes were drenched with tears. 

He knew his father and him didn’t have the greatest relationship out of all, but he wasn’t going to deny that he loved him.

It was his only parent alive, and he wasn’t about to lose him just like he lost his mother. At least, without saying goodbye. 

He pushed the door open from his room and found him lying in his hospital bed.

Jungkook blinked a couple of times, trying not to cry in front of the nurses that were cleaning up his room. 

They all looked at him and gave him a sympathetic look.

He sighed and went to sit down next to him, feeling the nurses scurry away from the room to give him some privacy with his father. Jungkook grabbed his hand and watched him breathe in and out, with his mask placed on his face. He looked so peaceful and he feared that if he touched him too harshly, he’d break.

“I’m here…” he whispered against his palm. “I’m here, dad” 

His dad’s eyes blinked open and he made a surprise noise. 

“I… Jungkook” he tried to smile. 

“Dad” he smiled, caressing his arm.

“I’m sorry” he breathed out. “I’m sorry, Jungkook” he said and tried taking off his mask.

“No, no, no” Jungkook cried softly, tears falling on his face. “Keep it, you need that”

He grabbed his son’s hand and placed it close to his heart. 

“I thought… I’d go without being able to see you” he breathed out. “You traveled all the way to the US to see me?” 

He smiled at him and nodded. “I did, dad” he smiled.

Jungkook had flied all the way to Minnesota, just to see his dad after receiving a call that he had been urged to the hospital. 

“Thank you, son” he grinned, patting Jungkook’s hand. “Did you tell Y/N you’re here?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, she actually drove me all the way to the airport”

His dad chuckled. “That girl… she’s special, huh?”

“Yeah, she’s really something” Jungkook chuckled, feeling his chest tighten at how much love his heart held for you. 

“I’d… I’d like to meet her sometime, if you let me” his dad asked him.

Jungkook looked away and wiped the tears from his face. 

“I know, I know I fucked up” he sighed. 

“Shh… please try to sleep, okay?” he asked his dad. 

His dad nodded weakly and his eyes slowly closed. 

Jungkook sat up and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll see you later, okay?” he whispered and kissed his forehead once again. 

He left the room, and let out a sigh. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

A few weeks later, Jungkook opened the door to his room at the hospital that was connected to the one his father had, and let out a breath when he let himself fall on the bed with a thud.

With a groan, he stretched his back and let all the muscles and bones crack. 

He felt his phone buzzing in the pocket of his jeans and he quickly took it out from it.

Jungkook felt his mouth widen in a lovesick smile and pressed answer immediately.

“Jagiya! What are you doing up at this hour? Isn’t it like… the middle of the night in Seoul?” he asked, checking the watch he had on his wrist.

You giggled on the other side. “I was studying, that’s it” he heard her giggle and he sat up on the bed. “Are you at the airport yet?” 

“No, I just got back from taking care of him. You know, giving him food with a fork like a baby and shit. I’m being picked up in an hour or so” he smiled. “Dad’s going to be discharged soon though, I don’t know if I’m gonna have to go back again, you know?” 

“You wanna fly with your dad?” you asked him. 

“Yeah, kind of” he shrugged. “But… at the same time, I don’t wanna leave you, you know?” he chuckled. 

“Aw, you love me” you sing-songed.

“Didn’t you know yet?” he giggled. “Head over heels” 

You squealed on the other side of the line and his heart doubled its size. “I love you too, my Jungkookie” 

“Ah, I miss you, Jagi” he sighed.

“Me too” you smiled. “But we’re seeing each other in hours so… don’t miss me too much” 

“That is literally impossible” he let out a breath.

“Okay, okay, enough with me. How’s your dad?” you asked him. 

“He’s alright, I guess. He’s completely awake now, and well, he’s tired as hell” he told you. “But they told me that everything is a good sign. I mean, he had a heart attack, he could’ve died… literally speaking. But, you know, he’s recovering, and he’s doing well. And I trust them” 

“That’s good, then” you told him, with genuine happiness.

“Yeah, it is”

“I told you everything was going to be okay, Kookie” you said softly.

“You’re always right”

“I’m always right, indeed. You’re a smart boy” you giggled.

He repeated the action and giggled too.

“You know, it’s been a month since we’ve seen each other”

“Yeah” he nodded. “I miss you so much” he said, again.

“I know, you told me” you chuckled. “And I miss you too… you know, I can come meet you at the airport” 

“No, Jagi, don’t worry. I’ll head to you as soon as I arrive” Jungkook reassured you. 

“No! I really want to go!” you whined.

Jungkook rolled his eyes with a smile. “You’re not gonna let it go, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Alright, you can come to the airport” Jungkook said.

“Yay” you squealed.

“Okay, missy. You gotta go to sleep, it’s Thursday. You have uni tomorrow” Jungkook scolded.

“Yes, sir”

He felt his cock stir at the sudden name you used. “Y/N…”

“Yeah?” you said, feigning innocence. 

“I’m hanging up” he chuckled.

“Okay” you said and he heard you yawn. “I’ll see you tomorrow, my love. I love you”

“See you tomorrow, Jagi. Love you”

He hung up the call and let the phone drop on the bed.

A few minutes later, he got a call from the uber that was waiting for him outside the Hospital.

He grabbed his suitcase and got out of the room, but the moment he did, he saw three paramedics running with a hospital bed, in which laid a patient he knew really well: his dad.

His eyes widened and he ran, following them as they got inside the Operating room. When he got to the door, a nurse intercepted him and he was sure she was telling him to step back, but with all his yelling, he couldn’t hear a thing. 

“Dad!” he yelled, “Dad!” 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You got to the airport with a huge smile on your face and sat down on a bench by the arrivals gate. You were chewing your lip anxiously and excitedly at the same time because you were dying to see your boyfriend. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“Your dad had a cardiac arrest, boy” the doctor in charge of the surgery said, taking off his face mask.

Jungkook felt his heart drop to his feet as he stared wordlessly at the doctor.

“His vitals are stable, however… his condition is still serious” the doctor said. “We’ll do whatever it takes to get your dad back to your home country, don’t worry” he smiled slightly, patting Jungkook’s shoulder and heading back to the operation room.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Two hours passed… then three… and then four.

Jungkook was nowhere in sight.

It got to a point where you stared at the floor, feeling numb. The sadness had left your body a while ago and it was just hopelessness.

You decided to get up from the bench, paid for the parking and went straight home. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The next day, you sat with Karina next to you at your uni class, while staring at your textbook. 

You felt her shake your shoulder and you looked at her, only to find her giving you a look that screamed: I pity you.

“Hey, babe. You alright?” she asked.

Bless her soul.

You plastered a fake smile and nodded. “Yeah, just… distracted. That’s all” you lied.

She furrowed her eyebrows but let it go. 

You felt your phone buzz and you immediately grabbed it. 

Disappointment filled your body when you saw it was just a dumb Instagram notification. With a sigh, you opened the messaging app and clicked on the chat with your boyfriend. 

You eyed the past messages you and Jungkook had shared, and the last you had sent him.

You: How’s your dad?

Jungkook: the same

You: did you at least get some sleep, baby?

He hadn’t replied to that one. 

You licked your lips and pressed your eyes together, trying to refrain yourself from crying in front of a whole class. How embarrassing. 

By the end of the day, you felt your stomach killing you with anxiety, to the point that when you got to your home, you had to bend over from the pain. 

You groaned, and gasped, feeling your feet shake from the pain.

Karina, who happened to be your roommate at the time, saw you on the floor and gasped, running towards you.

“Y/N! Y/N! You okay? Hey, look at me!” she desperately said, grabbing your face. 

“Kari- Kari, please take me to the hospital” you wheezed out.

“Yeah, yeah, come on” she said. “Hold on to me”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

A few hours later, Karina watched you sleep in a hospital bed. They had given you medication for the stomach pain and some pills for future anxiety attacks like the one you had.

She sighed as she stared at you.

“She’s gonna be fine, babe” Taehyung, your longtime friend, and since two months ago, Karina’s boyfriend, said, rubbing her back.

“I know, she will be. But it’s what's causing it that's worrying me, you know?” Karina bit her lip.

With a long breath out, she smiled at her boyfriend. 

Your phone vibrated on the little stand next to the bed.

Jungkook, it read. 

Karina and Taehyung looked at each other and nodded. Karina picked up the call and tried her best to sound calm.

“Hey, Jungkook” she said. 

“Oh, Karina. Hi” he smiled slightly. “How have you been?”

“I’m fine, how about you?” Karina replied. 

Jungkook sighed. “Well, I’m… holding on, I guess. Where’s- where’s Y/N?” he asked shakily. 

Karina looked at your sleeping form and chewed on her lip. “Um, don’t freak out. Y/N’s at the hospital right now, we’re taking care of he-”

“WHAT?” Jungkook yelled. “How- how did that happen? Is she okay?”

“Oh gosh, calm down. She’s fine, Jungkook. It’s not serious. She just had an anxiety attack and her stomach was killing her” Karina explained it all to Jungkook. “The exams we’ve had lately are killing us and well… you know, what’s going on with your dad took a toll on her, too. I’m not gonna lie to you, Kook” 

“Can- can I speak to her, please?” Jungkook asked, in a small voice. 

“I’m sorry, she’s asleep. They gave her some strong medicine that kicked her lights out” Karina chuckled a little. “How’s your dad, Jungkook?”

“He’s not well, yet” Jungkook whispered.

Karina hummed. Tae crouched down and said, “Hey, Jungkookie, we miss you”

Jungkook smiled. “Hey, Tae” he chuckled.

“Okay, that’s enough, adults are talking” Karina jokingly pushed his boyfriend away, making him pout at her. “Well, we wish you and him nothing but the best from here. We’ll tell her to call you when she wakes up”

Jungkook nodded. “Right, thank you” he said quietly. 

Jungkook hung up and Karina left the phone by the stand with a sigh.

“I hope he’s okay” Tae told her.

Karina grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it. “He will be. And Y/N-nnie will be too” 

Taehyung nodded and hugged his girlfriend.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Once you got home, you got ready for bed in your usual pajamas: one of Jungkook’s shirts and a pair of worn out shorts. 

As you let yourself get comfortable under the sheets, you felt your phone ringing and you quickly grabbed it, smiling slightly when you saw your boyfriend's name on the screen.

You swiped to answer the call and calmed yourself. 

“Hey, Kook! How are you, honey” you smiled. “It feels like we haven’t talked in forever”

“Hey… right” he trailed off.

Jungkook was sitting on a hospital bench, outside of his father’s room. His leg was bouncing up and down with the nerves racking over his body. 

“Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah!” you lied. “I am, actually. Of course. I actually passed my last test yesterday so…” 

“That’s great” Jungkook breathed out in a smile. 

“I know!” you squealed. “I was so nervous. But well, if I’m going to be the best makeup artist ever, I gotta pass the hardest tests, I mean, right?” 

“Yeah” Jungkook said, biting his lip and rolling his lip ring with his tongue. “Y/N…”

“Yeah, babe?”

Jungkook pressed his eyes together at the nickname. “We… we should break up” he said all in one breath. 

You blinked a couple of times, feeling your heart stopping its beating for a couple of seconds. “Huh?” you asked in a small voice. “What do you mean?”

“Waiting on my dad without knowing when he’ll wake up… must be hard for you too” Jungkook said, feeling the tears he had tried so hard to hold in his eyes, starting to fall. He sniffled and looked down to his feet. “It’s not fair to you”

You felt your vision getting blurry with tears. “What- what are you talking about?” you asked him. “It’s not hard for me at all, Jungkook” you lied. “I can wait, it’s all right”

“I don’t feel that’s what you deserve, Jagiya. I can’t even be there for you when you need me” Jungkook cried. “I feel so bad about it”

“You don’t have to feel bad about me, Jungkook” you cried.

“But I do! You’ve had an anxiety attack and I couldn’t even be there for you. God knows what else you might be going through or what you’ll go through and I’ll be unable to be there for you because of my current situation!” Jungkook said, his face completely soaked with tears of sadness. 

“I said I’m fine, Kook. Why are you doing this?” you sobbed. Jungkook didn’t answer. “I don’t want to break up. Nuh-uh” you shook your head as you frowned. “I can- fuck, I can even make money to fly back and fourth but we’re not over, we’re not!” 

“I… I can’t let you do that” Jungkook chuckled humorlessly. 

“Why not? Jungkook, that is my decision” you told him.

Jungkook smiled at your words and how you stood your ground. Just like you’ve always done. 

“Do well in Uni, Jagi. Don’t wait for my calls anymore, okay?” he asked softly. 

“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” You cried, almost grabbing your hair and ripping it out of your head from how he was talking. “Don’t say it like it’s our last time”

“It is…” he sobbed.

“No, I’m hanging up, Jungkook. You can call me when you’re in your right mind. Okay?” you said and hung up. 

You threw your phone further away on the bed and dropped your face on your pillow, sobbing your lungs out and kicking your feet. 

Karina came into the room, hearing your cries and immediately wrapped her arms around you, soothing you.

Meanwhile, in the United States, Jungkook stared at his phone and let out a sob that racked through his whole body. He let his head drop and cried, alone in a hospital hallway, his shoulders shaking. 

「 ✦ 𝐖𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

𝐖𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬' 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬?✦ 」

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The days went by slowly, oh so slowly. It was torture. Seokjin, the one who knew how to cheer you up the most, didn’t know what to do. He had run out of jokes to tell you, the ones he knew that he’d have you cackling and grabbing your stomach in seconds. 

Jimin, whom you’ve always considered your soulmate, always reminding each other how scary it was how alike you thought, didn’t even know what you were thinking now. He couldn’t decode what was on your head anymore. 

Karina didn’t know what to do either. She didn’t want to pressure you into going out to get your mind off things, but she also didn’t want you to mope around forever in your shared apartment. 

Taehyung was going crazy as well, because he knew that Jungkook, one of his best friends, wasn’t going to come around any time soon and, because he cared for you, he felt so bad for you as well. 

A month passed by and Karina had moved out of the apartment to Taehyung’s. You were genuinely happy for her, because you knew how long it had taken for those two to confess their feelings, and you knew how much they loved each other. 

But, at the same time, you were jealous of her. Because you didn’t get to have that with Jungkook, and you knew that you weren’t going to have that. 

At the same time, you wanted to have all of those things but you didn't want it with anybody that wasn’t Jeon Jungkook. And it hurt like hell.

Jimin was the one who was the most present and there for you during your break up. He’d bring you your favorite ramen, bring you take out, bring you the snacks you knew you’d like, bring you pads for your periods, etc. 

He had been your rock throughout the whole process, and it made you realize just how lucky you were to have him.

“Thank you, Chim” you smiled at him when he handed you the ramen bowl.

He smiled. “You’re welcome, Y/N-innie” he said, patting your hair.

“No. Not only for the ramen, I mean. For- for everything you’ve done so far” you said, your eyes lining up with tears. “I’m so thankful to have a friend like you. I’m really lucky”

Jimin bowed his head down at the mention of the word friend, but he let it slide, for your and his own sake. “Yeah, don’t mention it. I know you’d do the same for me”

“Of course” you smiled, and grabbed his hand. 

He covered your hand with his free hand and smiled at you. “You know, I’ve been to therapy these past couple of years and one thing that I found really… really helpful for… you know… letting go of some unsaid feelings, thoughts, whatever is going through your mind, is to write them down in letter form” he said. 

“Chim-”

“I know. It’s just an idea. Something that worked for me” Jimin spoke softly to you, caressing your hand. “You can address it to… you know who, and tell that person how you feel, without sending it to him actually. It worked for me” he shrugged

You didn’t say anything.

“I’ll bring you some diet coke, is that okay?” Jimin said, standing up from the bed.

You sighed and nodded. “Yeah. You know me so well, thanks” you chuckled.

“No worries”

Once he left, you placed the bowl on the nightstand and went to your desk to grab your phone that had just finished charging. 

Accidentally, on your way back to bed, you bumped your hip into your desk chair, making the bag that was on it, fall to the floor.

“Shit” you said, grabbing your hip in pain and crouching down to put your bag on the desk chair again.

When you moved the bag out of the way, you saw something underneath your desk. You quickly grabbed it with a frown and your heart started beating faster when you saw what it was.

It was a photo strip taken at a photobooth, with you and Jungkook in it, kissing, looking so in love like you had always been. It had written in sharpie: happy 11 months, babe!

You felt a tear run down your cheek at the memory. It was a gift he had given you 3 months ago, for your 11th month anniversary. You couldn’t even celebrate a full year together because you had broken up a week prior to the date. 

Your chin quivered with sadness and turned the picture down, unable to continue staring at it. 

But as you turned it down, you realised that something was written at the back. 

“I hope we can go to Namsan, to make a wish upon the first snow… so we can be together forever” 

You frowned as you cried. 

Now, that wish, to be together forever, was further away than Jungkook. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The next day, you walked out of Uni with Karina and Seokjin by your side, chuckling at some dumb story that Seokjin had told. 

“Oh God, shut up, Jin” Karina rolled her eyes. 

“No, Karina, but I’m telling you. We have to go to that Karaoke again” he insisted. “We’ll have so much fun, this time, Y/N-innie, you’re coming with us. No exceptions”

“Okay, okay” you sighed.

Karina and Seokjin turned to look at each other and squealed. “Yeah!” Seokjin said, grabbing your waist and twirling you around.

“Y/N’s back!” Karina smiled, clapping her hands.

“Oh God, put me down, Seokjin!” you yelled.

“Sorry” he mumbled.

You chuckled and then gasped, feeling something dropping on your hand.

Your eyes fell to the back of your hand and saw a white, little, snowflake. 

“Oh, it’s snowing, look!” Karina gasped.

You looked up and saw the snowy weather. 

Why did everything remind you of him?

That night, you couldn’t help but drive all the way to Namsan Tower, and as you reached the outer observatory, you sat down on a bench and sighed. 

“Okay… here goes my wish” you whispered under your breath. “I wish… to get the job I applied for last week. I really hope I get it, I’m needing the money” you sighed. 

You licked your lips and looked up.

“And I wish for Jungkook’s dad to get okay” you said. “I guess, that’s a little selfish, wishing twice” you brushed the snow from your hair and stood up, ready to go home. “Whatever wish comes true… I’m happy with either of those” Feeling like you’ve completed your purpose, you walked out of Namsan Tower, and went straight back home. 

「 ✦ 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✦ 」

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jungkook sat by his dad’s hospital bed, while scrolling down on the gallery app.

It was self-torture, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you, and he felt the need to go through every photo you’ve taken together. 

He swiped over every photo, memorizing every feature on your face and recalling every memory behind every single photo. 

He stopped when he reached a particular one.

You were on his bed, wearing his shirt. You were holding his brother’s new pup, the one he had given you two to care of for a week because he had gone on vacation. 

He felt a sob rack through his throat at the memory, one which he recalls was the happiest of his life. 

He didn’t know how happy he was back then, but now, he knows he had never been happier. 

And it was all because of you. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Once you got back home, you sat on your desk and grabbed your macbook, opening it. 

You remembered Jimin’s words. 

Write a letter to Jungkook, addressing it to him, without sending it. Just to free some feelings.

That was easy.

You grabbed a hair tie, wrapping it around your hair in a bun and let out a shaky breath.

Dear Jungkook,

It’s been almost 2 months since our last call. I guess you can say I’ve been doing fine, academically speaking. 

I’ve passed my classes and I’m only one exam away from getting my degree early with Karina. We’re so excited. We honestly cannot wait to start working already. 

I wonder if you’ve started studying music over there. I know that Jimin and you would’ve been such a power music couple. You would’ve broken every single record. I hope one day I can hear the music you made. You know, even the ones you played for me. 

I know I stopped texting. And I’m sure you’re wondering why. But it’s because I realized that maybe this was for the better. Maybe we weren’t supposed to be together for the rest of our lives like we had planned. Like we wanted to. Like I wanted to. At some point, I got tired of the read status. It made me sad. I can’t do that to myself anymore. 

It’s snowing here. I hope the place you’re in is warm, I know you don’t enjoy cold weather that much. 

I won’t contact you anymore.

I promise.

I just felt like this was for the better. Writing a goodbye letter to get closure.

So that we can get some closure.

So that I can get some closure.

Goodbye.

You finished writing the letter and pressed your lips together. 

Your eyes looked up on the screen and saw Jungkook’s contact on the message inbox. 

Without a second thought, you copied the letter and sent it to him. You quickly shut the macbook and stood up from the desk. You let yourself fall on your ass on the bed, placing your back against the bedpost. 

The tears fell across your cheeks, like a waterfall.

Closure. That’s exactly what was needed. 

「 ✦ 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞

𝐒𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐃-𝐘-𝐈-𝐍-𝐆 ✦ 」

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 PRESENT DAY 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“Y/N?” 

“Huh?” you blinked.

Jimin let out a little laugh. “Did you hear what I just said?” he asked.

You licked your lips. “Yeah…”

“Well, will you let me?” Jimin asked. “Will you let me help you get over him?” 

You looked at your feet and got nervous. “I- I don’t know, Chim” 

“I’m not trying to pressure you” Jimin said, putting his hands up in a defensive manner. “Just let me take you out. Once… twice… as many times as you want” 

“That’s why you got annoyed that I kept bringing Nari up, huh?” you asked.

“Well… yeah, kind of” Jimin chuckled. 

You chewed on your lip. 

“Okay”

Jimin frowned. “Okay… what?”

You smiled. “I’ll let you take me out, Chim”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

let me know what you think :))

PREVIOUS // NEXT

[itzkingbo]

butterflies & roses

chapter one.

Stray Kids ot8 x fem!reader

masterlist / next chapter

overview: you are one of their managers. you're tired, overworked, and sad. the last thing you want to do is worry your boys. but they notice everything. and the love and care for you, like you do for them.

word count: 1.8k

contains: cussing, mentions of pain, fluff, nicknames, use of y/n, mental illness

a/n: RAAAHH imma be so honest. this started off as a one shot drabble idea for anon and turned into whatever tf this is. but i love it? i fear ill have to make this a series 😔 lemme know if you wanna be part of the taglist! pookie out 🤪

Sure, you were one of the boys' many managers, but to them you were special. With the DominATE tour right around the corner, all of you were incredibly busy. You worked day in and day out to practically keep 3racha alive in the studio as they finished up any last touches to the solos they'd be revealing on stage.

You had barely gotten any sleep the night before, eyelids heavy with exhaustion as you dressed yourself for another tiresome day at the company. Many things went unnoticed by your usually trained eye. You left your quaint apartment in the sweatpants you had slept in, only mascara, and a coffee cup with only sugar because you forgot to pour it before you left.

Luckily you were smart enough not to drive yourself and settled on taking the bus. Several stops later you were waddling through the front doors of JYPE, one airpod in and a half-crooked smile to the doorman. The elevator ride seemed to take an eternity and you slipped into a daydream against the cold metal railing.

The loud ding snapped you out of it quickly, and you scurried past the other staff members entering the box. With a flushed face, you moved down the hall towards the dance practice studio, then shoved the door open.

Music harassed your ears immediately and you walked over to the counter to set your things down and cover your ears. It made your head pound. You hadn't even noticed your headache until now.

When the music suddenly stopped, you looked up to see Minho staring at you. "Y/n-ah? Are you alright?" His voice was calmer than usual, laced with genuine concern for his favorite manager.

You took in a deep breath and nodded, lowering your hands from your ears. "Just.. a headache. I didn't sleep well last night." You say honestly. This causes Minho to furrow his brows and step closer to you.

It was just you two in the practice room at the moment, as the rest of the boys were usually not this early. His hands move to cup your cheeks, and if they weren't already red, they would be now.

He moved your head around cautiously, looking into your eyes and then moving away to his bag. When he returned, he handed you a few pills. "Medicine. You need to take care of yourself like you take care of us."

You take it with a smile and reach for your cup. When you look down your straw, your brows furrow and you let out a low growl.

"What's wrong now?"

".. I must have been too tired. I didn't even finish making my coffee before I left." You grumble, handing him the cup to see for himself.

A hearty laugh escapes his lips and he sets it down and hands you his water bottle. "Maybe instead of managing you should take a nap in the studio."

This made you scowl, and you took the water and then plopped the pill into your mouth. "I can't afford a nap right now, Minho. There's too much to do and not enough time. The tour is right around the corner."

His snicker didn't go unnoticed and you shot him a glare. "You sound like Channie-hyung." He snorts, moving back to the laptop to finish his warm-up before practice.

When he unpauses the music, you notice he has turned the volume down and your glare softens. The sound of his sneakers squeaking on the floor fills the room as you make your way to the chairs in the corner.

It only takes a few short minutes for the practice room door to bust open, and the loud yapping of the boys makes you flinch at the sharp pain in your temple.

Minho stops completely and faces the boys, hands on his hips. "Hush! Manager-nim has a headache!" He whisper-yells, barely audible over the music.

Chris is quick to jog over to the computer to turn off the music. "Heh!?" Jisung harps, clearly having not heard his elder the first time. A hiss escapes your lips and you bring a hand to your head.

Felix turns to you and his eyes widen. "Oh! Sorry, Y/n.. we'll be quieter." He says, his puppy dog eyes causing your anger to vanish. "She has a headache, Ji. Please be less loud today."

Han's head snaps in your direction with an apologetic look, and he mouths you a quick 'Sorry' before placing his stuff down with everyone else's.

As they begin their warm-up stretches, their fearless leader dares to approach you, hands behind his back like he wants something. "Yes, Chris?" You ask quietly, trying not to upset your head while you wait for the medicine to kick in.

He bends down to your level, hands on your knees. "What time did you sleep last night?"

The question makes your chest tighten. You're HIS manager. The one who scolds HIM for late nights and no self-care. Yet here he was, looking at you like you had spit in his Cheerios.

You look down at your lap, pouting slightly. "Six.." You muttered, and his eyebrow cocks the way it does when he isn't too sure of something. "Y/n."

"Six. In the morning." This time you've said it louder, still refusing to look him in the eye. But he forces you to. He is older after all. "Christ, Y/n. We left the studio together at midnight." He scolded, tone stern yet filled with worry.

You huff and cross your arms. "I know. I just, couldn't sleep." You say, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. There had been so much on your mind lately. The tour, schedules, meetings, family, your boyfriend. Well. Scratch that. Ex-boyfriend. It was a sudden breakup that happened a few days ago. You hadn't had time to process the loss, the now empty bed, and quiet apartment.

Chris stares at you, watching as your eyes water. But before he can say anything, his name is called. "Hyung. C'mon." Hyunjin calls out.

You look down at the man, a small frown painting your features. "We'll talk more later." He says, now standing up after patting one of your knees and walking over to the group.

Throughout the entire practice session, you zoned out every other second. You were either falling asleep or in your head. Time after time, one of the boys would look your way with a frown or walk over to bring you water.

Once they finished up, Chris looked over to see you completely passed out with your head leaned back against the wall. He waved the others on, moved over to you, and tapped your shoulder gently. “Y/n-ah.” His voice was soft, and you hummed in response as your eyes opened slowly.

With a small smile, he grabbed both of your hands and pulled you up to your feet. Your eyes widened at the sudden movement and you grabbed onto him for support. "C'mon sleepy head. Let's go."

He grabbed your things, shouldering your bag after tucking your empty cup away. Then, he slung your arm over his shoulder and his hand found your waste.

Then he lead you out of the practice room, and down the hall to his studio.

When the door creaked open, Jisung's boba eyes met your tired ones. He felt like he could squeeze your adorable little cheeks at that moment, but he resisted and stood up to help you to the couch.

You didn't complain, far too tired to fight them at the moment. The moment your head hit the cushion, you were out like a light. "I'll go fetch her a coffee, keep an eye on her." Chris said, looking over at Jisung as he left the room.

"Yes sir." Han saluted, sitting in his chair and facing the laptop.

Your soft snores filled the room and created a comfortable silence mixed with the clicking of the keyboard and mouse.

Not long later, Chris returned with a few cups of coffee and Changbin behind him with bags. The aroma of something baked instantly flooded your nose and woke you from your nap. You grumbled and turned to face the boys with half-lidded eyes as you rubbed them. "How long was I out for?"

"Literally thirty minutes." Han chuckled, taking his coffee and breakfast. You groaned and sat up straight with a grumpy expression. It softened quickly as you were handed a cup with your name, and a turkey croissant. You licked your lips and bit into it with a satisfied hum.

The three laughed at your excitement for food and took their places in the studio.

The rest of the day was spent working on small projects, as well as the backing track for each solo. Then you were off to your office to finish the week's paperwork. You hadn't even realized how late it had gotten. However, this wasn't the first time you were glued to your chair by 11pm.

A subtle knock on your office door made you jump, and you looked up to see the familiar Aussie face. "Y/n." He greeted before moving over to your desk.

"Chan. What are you still doing here? It's late." You scolded, brows raised at him.

He scoffed and leaned against the wall nearest to him. "Says you. C'mon. You need sleep."

You shake your head and continue typing away. "Can't. I'm not finished yet." "I wasn't asking."

You look up again, stunned at the demanding tone he was using. Frankly, it pissed you off. "I'll leave when I'm done here." You say, tone slightly aggressive.

"You say that now." "Christopher! Get off my ass, would ya?" You didn't mean to snap at him.

"Y/N! Go home! Look at you! This morning you could barely stay awake, you looked exhausted. You're a mess!"

His words caused you to stop what you were doing and look up at him. You bit the inside of your cheek, saved your work, and slammed your laptop shut. "You have no room to talk to me like that." You huffed.

"Maybe not, but at least I'm trying here. You can't work in these conditions."

You began to stuff your things into your bag, then pushed past him out of your office. "Fuck sake. Leave me alone."

"What is wrong with you!? Why are you acting like this, Y/n?" He begged, following after you like a lost puppy.

You ignored him and kept walking. "Answer me."

"Nothing! Nothing is wrong, Bangchan! I'm just fucking tired!" You snapped again. You stopped walking and looked at him. That's when he realized you had tears running down your face, brows furrowed angrily.

You weren't mad at him. Your tears weren't angry. They were sad. He noticed the bags under your eyes. How much thinner and pale you looked. Your hair was greasy and tangled, very much unkempt like the rest of you. Why hadn't he noticed sooner?

"Oh. Y/N." He reached out to touch your cheek, but you flinched and turned away. "I'm just tired."

With that, you hurried away from him and left the company building.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

The Masterlist

SERIES:

You're the Only Girl for Me- [ONGOING]

All I Want Is You - [COMPLETED 8/29/2023]

LOVE - SEQUEL TO ALL I WANT IS YOU. - After getting back together, Janelle finds out thats she's pregnant. Follow along with Josh and Janelle as they deal with the highs and lows of her pregnancy. [ONGOING]

ALL FALLS DOWN- Kiyana Fatu's world is now in shambles after her husband comes home and tells her he has been having an affair. [COMPLETED 03/25/2024]

REBUILD & RESTORE - SEQUEL TO ALL FALLS DOWN [ ONGOING]

THE BOY IS MINE - COLLAB WITH @paigereeder ~ Josh was at the tail-end of his marriage and has told himself he doesn’t want anything serious. He just isn’t a casual type of guy, and all his actions have consequences. [ ONGOING ]

DRABBLES/ONE SHOTS:

You're the Only Girl for Me ; May 200 Word Challenge - A part of my You're the Only Girl for Me series. Set in the future

YTOGFM - May 200 Word Challenge (2)- A part of my You're the Only Girl for Me series. Set in the future

What We Used To Be - Six months of silence and heartbreak leads to this... (ONE SHOT)

"It's always been you"- A part of my Phrase Series

REQUEST:

Miss Independent - Can you do a story where jey starts dating this girl and she is veryyyyy independent and like to do everything her self but jey has to always tell her to sit down and let him do basically Ms.I can do it myself meets mr.sit tf down imma do it plz 🤭

4 a.m Cravings - a part of my LOVE series but also requested. Request: heyyyyy can we get a short lil page or story of Janelle’s pregnancy cravings pls🤍🤍🤍

Jey Rizzo - Okay so yk how the raw before war games when they were mentioning how they needed a 5th member? Well, this universe, it’s a mixed war games so Rhea is in. Cody makes his “call” Randy and a former NXT, newly signed Keiarie or Kabana Love for her ring debut with them. Mr. Main Event takes a notice to her and tries to yk, get his game on the whole night with her

SERIES:

Sorry [ONGOING] - I SUCK AT SUMMARIES... 😬

Pieces of Her [ONGOING] - Five months away from her dream wedding, Kenya’s world is turned upside down and her heart is shattered leaving her heartbroken and confused.

DRABBLES/ONE SHOTS:

May 200 Word Challenge - An excerpt from a One-Shot that I have been working on for a while

Untitled - Jimmy Uso x OC (Alani) * (SMUT)

REQUEST:

The Bridesmaid- I hope you’re having a good day! I wanted to request a fic with Jimmy (or jey, I love them both) where the mc is a bridesmaid at their sister’s wedding and she meets one of the groomsmen (Jimmy) and they start to really like each other. The sister warns mc that Jimmy is a playboy but things start to heat up quick between the two anyway! You can add or take away any aspects, have fun with it. Thanks, I love your writing!

ONE-SHOTS:

Til Further Notice - (based on Travis Scott's song) - He's been gone for 4 months. 118 days without a phone call or a text. What happens when he finally shows back up to work? Will he give Kaela the answers she's looking for?

Til Further Notice - The Reactions: How did the WWE universe react to the first time Roman was seen in 4 months...

"It was mine from the moment I touched it." - A part of my Phrase Series

ONE-SHOTS:

Tongue-Tied

[kkreadsstuff]

how to recover/come down from a fic that u loved? why, get up under another one of course! while i get me final thoughts together about "meet your match," i'm going to read a pair of short fics, one dramione, one pansy/percy (which is funny because i have only read fics where percy is gay, so i'll have to get my brain switched into a different gear for that one lmfao).

first up is "one and done" by pacificrimbaud! i saw someone compliment it on the dramione subreddit, and it's short, so i thought, "why tf not?" it's 4 chapters, just over 34K words, and the rating is explicit. let's get cozy real quick!!!

here's the summary:

Hermione Granger has a career she loves, friends she can depend on, and a nice set of hand towels for her new flat. She's single and tired of tiresome men, but that doesn't stop her from wearing beautiful lingerie underneath her serious Ministry skirts. Or having pictures taken in naughty knickers. Just once. For herself. Draco Malfoy doesn't get upset at the sight of blood, which is good, because he sees a lot of it. What he doesn't see a lot of is Hermione Granger in her unmentionables. Usually. A series of meetings and mix-ups in which one cannot possibly mean done.

tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Dominance, Submission, Office Sex, Enthusiastic Consent, Smut, Fluff and Angst, Smoking, Heavy Drinking, Possessive Behavior, Spanking, Jealousy, Praise Kink, Hair-pulling, Rope Bondage, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Rolled sleeves

i am super into like........ all of these tags and i would just like to thank the Almighty right quick for all of the praise kink fics finding me! alhamdulillah 😭😂💖 i'm not really getting much from the summary besides that this is a kinky office romance but ykw, that's fine, i'm ready for it and excited to read this little fic! i've read two other little one shot sby pacificrimbaud and i REALLY enjoyed them, their writing was so immersive and kept me tuned tf in! so i'm excited for where this fic is gonna take me.

if u wanna see what i thought of the one shots i have read by pacificrimbaud, click here!

alright let's get going! 🐎💨💨💨

*this thread will contain spoilers for the story so turn back now if u don't wanna know what i know 👁👄👁*

[pimosworld]

Just say the word

Pairing-Tf boys x reader (one shot)

CW-18+, NSFW, MDNI, established polyamorous relationship, light teasing, edging, voyeurism, orgasm denial, exhibitionism, possessive tf boys, mentions of smut, fingering, soft dom Will, soft dom Santi, soft dom Frankie. Unsuspecting victim ( poor Jack) he’s innocent in this I swear.

Summary- The boys decide to have a little fun at your expense.

WC- 1.7k

A/N- Set in the (story of us) universe but can be read as a stand alone. I feel like I’ve neglected this bunch since I finished the story and I miss them and their delusional little bubble. Please enjoy this ficlet set some time after the story of them ends and their relationship begins.

[Series Masterlist]

Not beta read

It feels weird being back in your normal spots. Nestled away in the corner booth in the dimly lit bar. All five of you crammed in like nothing has changed. Except it has. 

  This thing forming between the five of you for the last several months. No rules, no pressure, just the four of them not being able to let you out of their sight for more than five minutes. It’s intoxicating and overwhelming and you love it. 

  You are situated between Frankie and Santi, Will on the other side of Frankie sharing glances. Knowing tells as you squirm in your seat. Santi’s hand squeezes the plush skin of your thigh while Frankie rubs soothing circles against your knee. It all looks so normal to anyone walking by. They’ve been teasing you all night, switching places as they grab more drinks at the bar or head to the bathroom. 

  Will grins as he watches you fidget, not so subtly rubbing your legs together at the thought of his hands so close to where you needed them most. Not less than ten minutes ago he had you pleading into his ear like you were telling him a secret. His fingers tracing up and down the seam of your panties, wetness pooling against the fabric as you chased his touch. 

  Goosebumps raise on your arms as Santi’s fingers slip just past the string, curling in so precisely, you half to clear your throat to stifle the moan that crawls up the back of your throat. 

  “Ya ok sweetheart?” Will says and the look you flash is equal parts beautiful and terrifying all at once. 

  Santi kisses your shoulder, such a sweet endearing gesture to juxtapose the absolute filth that is happening below the table. “She’s fine.” A look to Frankie, something unspoken passing between them as the corners of Frankie's eyes crinkle with a smile. 

  You bite the inside of your cheek as his thumb presses against your clit. Dropping your head to your hands to wipe the sweat from your brow. 

  “Just say the word baby and we’ll stop.” Frankie’s voice in your ear luring you into the lion's den. You weren’t going to lament that easily. 

  Your hand drifts below the table, palming at the growing bulge in his pants, you yelp when he smacks your thigh. His palm soothes the spot as you let out a shaky breath. 

  “Hands where I can see them sweetheart.” Will commands. 

  “Fuck you.” 

  “Thirsty?” Ben’s voice cuts through the pounding in your ears. His one hand with a refill pitcher of beer, the other gesturing behind him as he mouths ‘be nice.’

  Following close behind with an empty glass is a familiar face. Not one you don’t want to see on any given day,  but right now you’re struggling to breathe normally. 

  “Fucking Jack.” Frankie bites out and you regard him with a quirked brow. 

  “I thought you liked him.” Your head turned in a whisper and he just lets out a deep sigh. 

  It’s not that he doesn’t like him so much as he knows how much the guy likes you. Judging by the grin etched across his face as he approaches the table. 

  Santiago withdraws his hand and you whine at the loss, disguising it with a cough as Ben shoots you a worried look. 

  Everyone reaching for the cold glasses as Jack slides into the booth next to Ben. You watch Santi from the corner of your eye, slowly taking his fingers in his mouth. The others preoccupied with greetings as he hums at the taste. 

  Your mouth agape at the filthy show of dominance. He takes a sip of his beer, his dark eyes on you as he swallows and you watch the way his throat bobs. 

  “You’ll catch flies that way cariño.” 

  You tamp your mouth shut as heat licks up your spine. 

  Frankie slides you a beer as a peace offering and you let out a breath hoping the torture is over with your new guest at the table. 

  Jack says your name and you probably look a little wide eyed when you say hello. Sounding a little too happy to see him. Completely unaware that whatever tension building right now is not directed at him. 

  “Haven’t seen you guys here in awhile.” He says as he pours himself a beer. 

  “We’ve been…busy.” The boys snicker as Ben hides his smile behind his glass, unbeknownst to Jack. 

  “What have y’all been up to? Any hot dates recently?” 

  The boys stay quiet, shooting each other looks as Frankie’s hand starts inching it’s way up your thigh. 

  He nudges Ben with his elbow. “Oh come on, spill. I know you’ve at least got some.” 

  Ben laughs it off, eyes flicking to you and memories of your date the previous night. He looks shy almost as he rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t.” 

  You’re starting to gauge their annoyance at his presence. 

  Frankie doesn’t falter as he pinches the fabric between his fingers and you clamp your thighs shut. Your sandals clicking loudly on the floor. 

  Santiago laughs, motherfucker…with a stupid grin on his face and Will has to bite down on his lip to keep his at bay. 

  “In fact.” Jack starts up again. Pointing at Santiago.  This guy doesn’t quit apparently. “Last time I saw you here you had some hot blonde in your lap.” 

  He drops his head to the table and for his sake he looks apologetic. “I don’t recall.” The redness creeping up his neck and the simmering tension below the surface. 

  Frankie relents when he notices your obvious discomfort. They’ve been edging you all night and now this Jack off had to come and ruin all the fun. 

  “What about you honey? You seeing anyone?”

  Bingo

  His attention on you, a wide smile on his face. He draws his fingers up and down the condensation on his glass and you have the sudden wild thought to pour it on you. Anything to escape this fresh hell. 

  He wasn’t an unattractive man. Tall, broad shoulders and a strong jaw. Gorgeous head of dark brown hair that was always kept neat and combed back. He’s a firefighter so he’s got a great build and he can on occasion make you laugh. 

  Which is perhaps why the rest of the table looks as though they’re three seconds from choking him. 

  Frankie’s hand flexes a little on your thigh, Ben cracks his knuckles and stares straight ahead at Will whose jaw is so clenched you think he might break a few teeth. 

  And Santiago…looks as stoic as you’ve ever seen him. Too calm. 

  “Baby.” Frankie’s voice and the startling use of the pet name brings you back to the present. “He asked you a question.” His head tilted in waiting. 

  You fumble for words you’ve never actually spoken out loud. Not knowing what the right or wrong thing to say is. “I’m…keeping my options open.” 

  That seems to be the right answer for now. Santiago gives you a reassuring squeeze as he resumes drinking his beer. You can feel Frankie relax next to you and Ben’s shoulders aren’t reaching his ears. 

  Will still watches Jack, who obviously can’t take a hint. 

  His tongue dragging along his teeth as he eyes you from across the booth. For the sake of his safety you don’t want to let him finish whatever thoughts he has running through his head at your admission. 

  You slap your hands down on the table. “I’ve had too much to drink.” Signaling to Frankie and Will to slide out so you can relieve yourself, or at the very least get some space between you and Jack. 

  Someone has the nerve to pinch your ass before you exit the booth and curse low under your breath as you retreat to the restrooms. You were absolutely going to kill them when you got home later. 

  —

  The blatant flirting, the casual use of your sacred nickname, the way he’s not so subtly checking out your ass as you walk away. 

  The guys aren’t certain but Jack acts as though he’s not in clear immediate danger. But he’s a firefighter so the regard for his life is skewed toward running at a problem and not away from it. 

  As you round the corner disappearing from view he focuses his attention back on the table. Whistling low under his breath as he shakes his head still oblivious to the rage closing in on him. 

  “I still don’t know how one of you hasn’t snagged that yet.” Jack says offhandedly as he downs the rest of his beer. 

  Ben takes it from him and Santiago flinches, unsure of what the younger man will do as he calmly slides it out of reach. 

  It’s one of those intense moments. In the wild we freeze it in photographs and videos. In the images there’s a predator, perhaps a cheetah staring unblinkingly at a gazelle, who stares back with a look of surprise and terror. 

  “How do you know we haven’t?” Ben’s body turns to face him as he clears his throat. 

  He stutters a little, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Look if I’m moving in on anyone’s territory you just say the word-“ 

  “You are.” Will says without specifying whose. 

  Will stands as you make your way back to the table and Jack stands with him, waving goodbye. Frankie stays seated, not yet able to hide the evidence of his arousal. The whole display not doing anything to compress his excitement. 

  The guys all shift as you slide in, Will taking his seat next to you as Frankie throws his arm over your shoulder and he can see the wheeler turning in the poor man’s head. You never stood a chance.

  “Leaving so soon?” Your sweet voice doing nothing to disguise your obvious guess at what just transpired. 

  “Ugh…ya I’ve got an early day tomorrow.” He offers a tight lipped smile before walking away with his tail tucked. 

  Frankie’s laugh jostles you and you move to slap his arm as he grabs your wrist. “Play nice hermosa.” 

  You huff as you pry it out of his grip. “What did you guys say?” 

  You’re met with mostly silence and their grins at each other and just like that you’re right back where you started the night. Them, teasing you…and you loving it. 

  Will’s hand slowly creeps up your thigh,bunching the fabric of your skirt in his hand as he leans in close. “Now where were we sweetheart?”

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Taglist - @luciferiorbxtch @alwaysdjarin @meveispunk @casa-boiardi @evyiione

@littlenosoul @the-fox-den @saturn-rings-writes @romanarose @wandasbitch22

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[jeewrites]

Hold Fast | Ch. 7 Coffee & Donuts

Rating: Mature for chapter (Series is Explicit, this blog is 18+ MDNI)

Summary: It's a rainy day and Frankie is bummed about everything going on with his ex-wife Vanessa and the impending change to the custody agreement. You convince Frankie to go with you for some coffee and treats. Reader has a car named Blue.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who's still reading the series! Life things, grief things, a lot happened since the last update, but I am going to see this series through with Sweets and Frankie. (I've actually written the last chapter believe it or not, but I just need to uh, get them there!) Thank you always for being the best beta @bloviating-vy <3

Word Count: 1.5k (it's mostly fluff y'all)

Chapter Tags/Warnings: TF AU, no y/n, fictional description of custody arrangements, aggressive driving, brief mention of wedding/anniversaries/honeymoon, Tom owns a bar called Redfly's, Pope owns a gym, alternating POV

Series Masterlist

<< prev next>>

It seems like everyone has the same idea as you, crowding into the latest ‘it’ coffee shop, a warm beacon on this grey, drizzly day. Scrunched together at a two-top you could see the noise and crowd grating Frankie’s already low mood, despite the six shots of espresso over ice cradled in his hand. He picks at the pain au chocolate you’re sharing.

“You gonna pick out all the chocolate and just leave the pastry for me?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, slouching back into his chair and taking a large gulp of his coffee. It is a damn miracle he is not vibrating out of his seat into another dimensional plane. Six fucking shots of espresso.

“Hey,” you say softly, placing your hands over his. “It’s going to work out. Might be hell for a bit, but we’ll get through it. I'm here for you, okay?”

Frankie perks up at the we. He hadn’t said it in so many words but you could tell the custody change demands from Vanessa were stressing him out on so many fronts. It was frustrating enough strategizing with his lawyer, not to mention his worry about being enough for Gabi, doing a good job as a dad, and the thought of juggling full-time custody along with his job. But also how it would impact your relationship. Despite the reassurances you'd given him that you considered him and Gabi a packaged deal, you knew he still harbored doubts, plagued by insecurity.

When someone jostles you hard enough to nearly spill your coffee, you abruptly stand up. The coffee and pastries are doing shit all to improve his mood, but you still have one trick up your sleeve.

“C’mon, let’s go,” you declare, chucking the half-mangled pastry into the trash. The poor lamination of the dough didn’t make this one worth saving. Frankie slams the rest of his espresso and shuffles towards the door behind you.

Even though you’re driving, Frankie hustles over to open the car door for you before sliding in on the passenger side. You know how defeated he’s feeling when he hadn’t insisted on driving this morning. Frankie always wants to drive.

Frankie quirks an eyebrow at you when leaving the shopping center, turning away from the direction of his house. You just shoot him a cheeky wink as you continue driving in comfortable silence. Trundling along in no particular hurry.

Eventually, you pull into the completely deserted student parking lot at the local high school. Puddles dot occasional parking spots and the air is thick with moisture. It’s no longer raining outside but the clouds hang heavy, occasionally spitting, threatening to pour again. You gently pull to a stop near one corner of the lot and grab your phone. He’s not sure what you’re looking for as you scroll through your music app and the car idles.

You finally look at him with a shy smile as you click your phone back into its holder. “You trust me, Frankie?”

“Umm, as long as you’re not about to murder me and dump my body in the ditch over there, baby,” Frankie responds looking around with hesitant but soft eyes, open to whatever you are trying to do to cheer him up.

“Awesome,” you exclaim, perking up, caffeine pumping through your veins. You flip off the A/C and traction control and hit play on your music app. Classical music starts to build on the car’s stereo system. “Hang on!”

You floor it.

Frankie is pretty sure you threw the car directly into second gear, screaming down the long side of the parking lot before executing a perfect pendulum turn around one of the light poles. Whipping the rear of the car around before accelerating towards the middle of the lot and pulling the e-brake briefly, deftly maneuvering the steering wheel before stomping on the gas. Your car dances with you in beautiful arcing donuts. Exiting the last revolution, you rev the engine, before charging towards another light pole at the far end of the parking lot. The tires squeal as you drift around the light pole and floor it again. Frankie’s gripping the oh-shit bar with his right hand as his left presses into the roof of the car. He can’t even let out a yelp as you punch the gas and the air out of his lungs.

He has enough of his wits about him to count the revolutions in the next set of donuts, an impressive 1440 degrees before power sliding around the perimeter of the parking lot for good measure. It suddenly occurred to him why you had red tape marking the 12 o'clock on your steering wheel. You finally drift the car to a stop in the middle of the lot.

You look over and grin at Frankie, looking far too much like a Benny grin, before asking him, “How ya feeling now, baby?” You reach over to take a sip of your coffee, not a drop spilled in the chaos. You eye him with such innocence as if you didn't just pull the ridiculous stunt you just did.

“Uh…” Frankie lets out a hiccuped laugh, still clutching the grab handle, slowly lowering his left hand from the roof. Adrenaline and caffeine coursing through his body, fizzing and sparking up his esophagus that escapes into a giggle?!? Perhaps six shots of espresso was a bit excessive. He feels a slow smile spread across his face, grinning like a maniac back at you, surprised, amused, touched at your antics to cheer him up.

“Better,” he punches, all air and no menace, trying to hold in more unruly giggles.

“Hmm, that's a no,” you smirk at him before pedaling the gas a few times, looking for any sign he wanted you to stop. When he continues grinning at you, you throw the car in reverse, dancing with the e-brake, clutch, and gas pedal, whipping donuts in reverse, once, twice, before throwing it into first and gunning it to drift figure eights around the light posts. The car slips and slides across the wet pavement, the smell of rubber and rain thick in the air, as you maneuver the car with absolute focus and control.

Frankie’s better prepared this time, enough to appreciate your agility and skill as you work, dance really, with your car. It is sort of like a dance, Vivaldi’s music swirling up and up, crescendoing, as you spin the car faster and faster. He lets out a whoop and you smile, alert eyes on the road, before letting one out yourself. As the song crests and falls, you powerslide the car around a light pole and cruise to a stop, allowing the car to idle, breathing heavily from wrangling all that torque and excitement.

“Better?” You glance at him again, eyes playful and sweet.

He grins wide this time, “Yeah, baby, much better. Always better with you.”

You reach out and slide your warm hand into his, squeezing lightly. “Good.” You pause for a moment before adding quietly, “Thanks for trusting me.”

“You know what would make it even better?” He smirks, dimples dancing, eyes bright again.

“What’s that?”

“Let me drive.”

You jerk your hand back from his and playfully shove him, “FRANCISCO MORALES. Blue is MY baby. Only I get spin her like this.”

Frankie knows better, but he presses you anyway with pouty lips and puppy dog eyes.

“Absolutely not, Morales. Maybe, maaaybe after we’ve celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary, THEN you can drive her.” Your eyes widen in panic at the slip of the word wedding. You hadn’t talked about the M word yet.

Frankie furrows his brows in mock seriousness and he can see your panic rise, worried he may have taken it the wrong way.

“How about after the honeymoon?” he negotiates, his voice like a purr. He knows what he's doing. You release a nervous giggle that sets Frankie off, laughter bubbling up from his throat until you’re both cackling with tears until one of you snorts. It was definitely you.

“First anniversary,” you giggle back, hiccuping and wiping away happy tears.

“Deal.”

You shake on it, but instead of releasing your hand, he pulls you in closer for an espresso-laced kiss.

When he finally pulls back, cupping your chin between his thumb and index finger, your soft eyes search him before asking, “You really feel better?”

“Yeah.” He offers a warm, touched smile. He tilts your chin up to him as he presses one more chaste kiss on your lips.

“Wanna dance one more time before we go home?” You arch one eyebrow, one hand on the steering wheel, one hand on the shifter.

Home.

“Hell yeah,” Frankie grins back at you. He thinks maybe you have an inkling, and know how everything is better in his life when you’re there. He’s already home. You’re his home.

Frankie hits play on your music app. As Vivaldi resumes over the speakers you launch Blue down the parking lot, full throttle, tires screaming, a blue streak of rubber and rain.

End Note: The song Sweets puts on is Vivaldi's Winter from The Four Seasons. She hits the gas at the 0:40 mark.

Example of Pendulum Turn Handbrake Turning in Rally Driving

Taglist is open: @katareyoudrilling @christinamadsen @rebel-held

@littlemisspascal @burntheedges @darkheartgatita

@enretrogue @titabel @copperhalfcent

@triplefrontier-anniversary @iamskyereads

[princessdimondheart]

Hot Tamales | Ghost x Canis! OC + TF-141 + Los Vaqueros

Pairing: Ghost x f! OC

Warnings: language, the bois simp for food

Edited: No

A/N: A little post for Hispanic Heritage Month, a day after it ‘ended,’ but it’s always Hispanic Heritage Month for me lol. My mom and I made tamales a few weeks back and that kinda inspired this. I know it’s not what you’re expecting that I update but I wanted to get this posted even though it’s late. This could be considered part of the It’s The Dog series but as a separate one shot. Canis is Mexican but it can be read as any Latina Reader.

Masterlist 

Character banner ©️ Me

🫔.

For the last day or so, Johnny not Ghost could find Canis and both were beginning to get a bit worried. So, Johnny asked around the base they were on if anyone had seen her. No luck until one of Alejandro’s Corporals said that she had been in the mess’ kitchen. Quickly sending a text to Ghost, Johnny made his way to the mess hall. 

An incredible aroma came from the large room the closer down the hall he went. Ghost was already standing at the doors waiting for him. 

“Ah, that smells so good L.t.” He grinned at the taller man. 

“Very good.” Ghost replied, shockingly in approval. 

Johnny was just about to push the doors open when a loud bang sounded from down the hall. It was Alejandro and Rudy. 

“Te dije, Rudy! The smell is coming from here!” The Colonel shouted. “Mmm… tengo hambre.”

“You were right, Ale. But who’s making them?” The two men jogged to where Soap and Ghost were standing. 

“You know what’s goin’ on, Alejandro?” Johnny questioned. “It smells really good! What is it?”

“No idea, amigo! Those are tamales!” He shook Johnny’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’ve never tried tamales before?”

Johnny shook his head and when Alejandro looked at Ghost, he also denied ever having them. Both Mexicans shook their heads. 

“Oh, you’re missing out!” Rudy looked at them with pity. 

“It’s only one of the finest dishes Mexican cuisine has to offer.” Ale added. “You’re in for a treat!”

They finally head in and see that a decent sized crowd had formed around the kitchen doorway. Many of them were practically drooling at the delicious smell. They made their way through the crowd and inside they saw Canis. 

Rudy called out to her first, “Canis! You’re the one making tamales?”

She turned around at his voice. “Rudy, sí. I’ve been prepping since yesterday and now the tamales are steaming. I think they’ll be ready in about ten minutes. Think you boys can wait?”

Canis was wearing an apron that had the Los Vaqueros logo on the front. Earlier that day, she decided she would make one with the 141’s logo on it. It was stained with mole, pork, and masa. There was a very large pot behind her on the stove filled to the brim with tamales. The food station was relatively clean after the mess she had made the previous day and that morning. She’d taken the time to put everything away and clean up. Although, there were still some corn husks left on the table. 

“Of course we can wait, lass!” Johnny called out from behind Ghost. Whose body took up much of the doorway. 

Then the group had the others waiting around go to sit at the tables while they waited for the tamales to finish cooking. When the ten minutes were up, the mess staff helped Canis distribute the tamales to the voraciously hungry soldiers and staff. They thought that the tamales would be gone by then but out came Canis with a large warming platter filled with tamales. 

“I saved a bunch for you guys, and there’s more in the freezer to be steamed later on.” Canis smiled at them, placing the platter of tamales onto the table. She gestured to the food. “Go ahead.”

Alejandro and Rudy were quick to place a hot tamale on their plates. They were not as careful to spread apart the corn husks and dug into the steaming meal. 

“Ah-Ah!” The two sucked in air to their mouths to cool off their burning tongues. 

Canis shook her head at the two traviesos. “Con cuidado! You’ll burn your tongues.”

“It tastes better when they’re hot and fresh.” Alejandro panted, still cooling his mouth. Canis rolled her eyes at him. 

On the other hand, the Brit and the Scot were going at their food at a much slower pace. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. 

“This is good, Canis.” Ghost looked at her. 

“Thank you, Ghost.” She smiled and her cheeks burned. Alejandro cleared his throat. 

“If a woman makes you tamales, she’s probably in love with you.” Alejandro smirked at her. The other men whipped their heads to look at her with wide eyes. Ghost squinted at her, an unfamiliar emotion in his dark eyes. Canis’ brow rose in question. “Who on the team have you fallen for, amiga?” 

“No one, Alejandro. I just wanted to make some tamales for everyone.” She side-eyed him. “It’s my Abuelita’s recipe. I was feeling a bit homesick so I made these to help cheer me up.”

Ghost hummed while Rudy and Johnny nodded their heads. 

“They’re the best thing I’ve ever eaten, and I’ve eaten lots of things, lass.” Johnny complimented. 

Canis chuckled. “I’m glad you guys are enjoying it.” She fiddled with her fingers. “I was worried that I’d mess it up or something. I even messaged my Abuelita about a few things.”

“Nothing to worry about Canis! They’re the most delicious tamales I’ve ever had.” Alejandro went to go back to eating but jolted upright. “Don’t tell my mama I said that!”

Canis and Rudy burst out laughing. Johnny grinned at them and Ghost ignored them. He basically inhaled the whole tamale in three bites, and was glancing at the plate of tamales. 

Canis noticed. 

“Who wants seconds?”

~~~~~

Bonus:

“They remind me of my grandmother’s tamales.” Rudy teared up. “I miss her.”

“Ayy, don’t cry Rudy.” She pat his back. “Here, have another tamale.” 

Canis placed another wrapped tamale on his plate before turning back to the stove to finish cleaning up. She didn’t see the glint in his eyes nor the smirk on his lips, but Alejandro did. 

“Rudy, you cabrón! That’s your fourth one!”

Masterlist

🔖 Taglist:

@missroro @wobblywolf @animarix @islanderr @sae1kie @abbiesxox @frazie99 @undercover-smutlover

[manic-sapphic]

i luv you adora- but i'm prob always gonna

have this lil like, .5% glare at you stuck in my soul for this moment---

for real though, got me on episode 2, all into the show, already loving tf out of their dynamic and feeling they got some vibes, stoked as hell on it-

then i gotta see this damn 1.5 seconds of it and get slapped so stupid hard w the realization that catra's the only one who knows they got them feels-

just tryna check out this show and can tell i'ma enjoy tf out of it - but right here ^^ after getting to watch them together for so little of the show - already lookin at em like yeeeea i see you dummies- flirty af, even if u don't realize that's what ur doin yet- helllllll yeessssss--

annnnd then hey - surprise split-second stab in the heart: 'oh fuck it's gonna be a while, isn't it?'

- instant frustration - suddenly aware of an impatience that i know is def gonna be growing at fckin exponential rates ... but damnit. yeah - still have to watch it - cause i gotta know if this is gonna happen. and ofc thinkin- 'omfg - it better. cause if it never does, i know i'ma be filled w more gay rage than i know what to do with' -

and went on watching, waiting. four damn seasons i loved tf out of but still got that underlying .....? in my head of 'when's it gonna happen? how they gonna do it at this point? IS IT gonna happen at this point? i swear to gob - if it don't - ...well, there's nothing i could or would do, but i'ma be so mad, the fury gonna pop up in my head for weeks. years - for life. if i even hear this show mentioned like, 20 years from now - my mood will still instantly get super salty for a bit.'

fact.

& the fifth season had me all over a roller coaster the whole damn time- kept feeling like i was tryna walk down this hallway illusion in shot in the dark- thinking i'm boutta reach the damn door and suddenly the fckin thing looks far away as hell

thank gob all that shit did turn out to be an illusion. cause i was feelin as scared as this lil kitty - such fear, gonna cry -

but never had to cry. except maybe tears of joy- and maybe a few tears so stoked that it even did happen- but also a lil more of em tho, cause not till like the last 10 mins of the whole series.

regardless tho - like, 20 seconds of the show that made the entire thing 10000x dumb stupid awesome- so worth it. it was all great, but got that instant infinite enhancement to all great gay. win.

<3

ps -

(but still be fierce & fiesty af ofc)

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I just realized something -- based on your choices, both Clementine's and Louis's first direct human kill happens by accident (Eli and Dorian). Their reactions are very different though ...

Mmhmmm... if you play your cards right, Clementine can avoid directly killing the Stranger, Lee, and Kenny. I'm trying to think if there are any other opportunities where she can kill someone like that pre-ANF but I'm drawing a blank. I've replayed TFS a few times now but I haven't replayed the whole series for a long time.

But yeah, then ANF comes along and she shoots a guy, and then turns to Javi like "Okay you need to lie for me--" which most people do because it's Clementine and players often will do whatever she asks, whether it's something Javier would actually do or not. Personally, I think that's kind of a flaw with the choice, but at the same time, it can't really be helped? I don't think it's good to lie for her, honestly, even if she's really pissy about it.

Like I know it's an accident... but Clementine knows better than to point a gun at someone and pull the trigger, bad bullets or not, unless she intends to kill. Lee taught her that. She knows better. The first shot was enough to prove her point that the bullets don't fine, but then she shot again and whoops... that bullet fired, and now you have to deal with the consequences.

Even if it's not her first kill, it's still a good indication of how hardened she's become at that point. She doesn't show remorse for killing him, even if he's a prick who could've gotten her killed by giving her bad bullets, she just thinks about how she's going to get out of this: by lying.

Then there's Louis who kills Dorian and is a mess about it initially. Also an accident given Dorian snuck up behind him, but it's not like she was there for a friendly chat, y'know? He's clearly not okay afterward, but he still wants to go with Clementine to get AJ which I wish he would get more credit for.

But like I said before, Louis being one of the few in the Ericson crew who has directly killed someone is so interesting to me. Especially the way he talks about it later on, how he's glad he has it in him to kill because he gets it now, he gets that having a home means protecting it and his home isn't just Ericson anymore, his home is Clementine and AJ.

[justalilguyoops]

have no idea if this has alr been asked but have you thought about doing a vampire cattonquick fic??? could be interesting with felix or oliver being a vampire, thought something about obsessive felix being a vampire sounds so silly

omg, has not be asked and,,, definitely an idea I've thrown around a bit! Nothing super developed, but a few thoughts I've had:

a Buffy-esque story HAHA where felix is basically the slayer and Oliver is maybeeeee a big bad?

Oliver is a vampire who has like a sensitivity to human blood and has only been able to have like animal blood, but then he gets a single taste of Felix's blood and suddenly, it's all he can consume! felix uses this to his advantage and basically makes oliver his lil vampire pet :)

Oliver is a vampire and it's something felix learns about, but oliver denies ever drinking Felix's blood (but will drink just about anyone else). Obvi felix gets jealous and is like "pwease dwink me 🥺"

also maybe something like felix being a vampire and oliver being his thrall? or the other way around. just imagining oliver doing all of felix's dirty work and finding him prey, but desperately wanting to be said prey

finally, felix gets turned into a vampire and it's sorta oliver's fault (they walk back to the dorms after a night out and oliver leaves him behind on the walk or somethin) so basically it's a romcom of felix learning how to do all the things a vampire is supposed to do (but is really bad at it) and oliver has to help him (aka give his blood which...he TOTALLY isn't doing willingly....TOTALLY not...hahahaha....)

imagining the first time felix has to kill someone/drink someone other than oliver and it just goes,,,, terribly wrong he like passes tf out from stress and oliver is just left with this like....corpse, mans like 🧍‍♂️

but these are all very basic thoughts, haven't delved too much into any of these brain worm paths!! not sure if it'll ever happen given that LAWS still has....a lot to go....and I'll probs have to take a long break after hahahaha but!!!! all of these are def possibilities for one-shots/short series (i say that....but both WIPIP and LAWS were supposed to be short series....)

thank you for the fun ask!!!! <333

[akstzs]

maybe I judged the hidden world too harshly <- finished the umbrella academy season 4

rant under the cut so spoilers

HOW TF DO YOU TAKE THE CHARACTER WHO IN THE PREVIOUS SEASONS WAS DEFINED BY HIS LOVE FOR HIS FAMILY AND CHARACTER ASSASSINATE HIM BY SHOEHORNING HIM INTO A ROMANCE WITH HIS BROTHERS WIFE WHO HAVE THREE KIDS TOGETHER

ALSO AFAIK THIS IS THE FIRST FRICKING SEASON WHEN WHILE FILMING FIVES ACTOR WAS OVER 18, AND BEFORE IT WAS LIKE “oh yay he can finally shoot a gun on screen” BUT NOW ITS LIKE “OH GOD WHY DID THEY MAKE HIM KISS A CHARACTER WHOS ACTRESS IS FIFTEEN YEARS OLDER THAN HIS ACTOR”

AND THEN THE REST OF THE SEASON HIS MAIN FOCUS IS HER NOT THE REST OF THE FAMILY

anyway apocalypse five should’ve shot season 4 five

AND WHERE TF WAS SLOANE. EVEN IF HER ACTRESS DIDNT WANT TO COME BACK SURELY THEY COULD WRITE HER OUT BETTER THAN JUST NOT EXPLAINING IT AT ALL. LUTHER GOES “I wish me and Sloane had a family and house and whatever” WHAT HAPPENED TO HER THEN. SHE WAS ALSO APART OF THE MARIGOLD EXTRACTION CIRCLE.

AND RAY WALKED OUT??? SEASON 2 RAYMOND CHESTNUT WOULD NEVER. LITERALLY JUST SAY HE DIED DURING THE TIME SKIP OR SOMETHING ITS BETTER THAN COMPLETELY RUINING HIM WITH JUST ONE LINE

POOR FRICKING KLAUS MAN I JUST THOUGHT THE BIKER GUY WAS GONNA SELL HIS ORGANS OR SOMETHING NOT BASICALLY MAKING HIM A PROSTITUTE

OH BOY BEN. FOR A SEASON FOCUSING ON HIM HE SURE IS MORE OF A PLOT DEVICE THAN A CHARACTER. I GET THAT HE DOESNT LIKE THE UMBRELLAS ALL TOO MUCH BUT AT TIMES HIS INSISTENCE TO STAY WITH JENNIFER FELT EXCESSIVE. SHOULDNT HE ALSO NOT WANT TO LOSE HER LIKE HE LOST THE SPARROWS SO HE WOULD FINALLY OPEN UP AND ACCEPT HELP WHEN SHE WASNT DOING WELL. I GET THAT HIS BEHAVIOR IS EXPLAINED BY THE CLEANSE TAKING OVER HIM OR WHATEVER BUT IT JUST FELT LIKE AN EXCUSE TO MAKE THE CLEANSE HAPPEN AND DOESNT FEEL LIKE BEN HAS ANY AGENCY BY THE END. AND BY THE LAST EPISODE HE AND JENNIFER JUST TURN INTO A FRICKING BLOB MONSTER SO HE DOESNT EVEN GET ANYTHING IN LIKE THE LAST 30 MINS

The ending is honestly about how I expected a series where every season the hargreeves’ actions bring about the apocalypse but it was so much worse because of all this shit that happened before it

in my head the season ended right before Ben spiked their drinks with the marigold and the siblings keep going with their newly built lives

[devilbrew-69]

Guilty Gear Tf Story- Becoming Sol and Leo

Author's Note- This was anon request that wanted me to write a story about two guys transforming into Sol and Leo from guilty gear. I thought it was hot concept and had a lot of fun writing it. I'm always open to taking requests for gay smut involving buff men.

If there's one thing Brad couldn't get enough of, it was fighting games. He grew up playing legendary titles like Street Fighter, Tekken, and King of Fighters. The game series that currently caught his eye was Guilty Gear. He invited his boyfriend Noah over to his college dorm so they could play a couple of rounds.

" Remind me again you invited me to play a fighting game all things?" Noah asked. He was a portly man with a chubby body, short white hair and a pair of glasses. He'd much rather have his head buried in a book than a game.

" 'Cause fighting games are the peak of entertainment, especially when you have a friend to play it with!" Brad beamed. He was a whole foot taller than Noah and had a more toned body.

" I fail to see the appeal of mindlessly mashing buttons until the opponent's health bar deplenishes."

" It's only button mashing if you're a noob at it! There's tons of sweet combos and strategy that goes into a good game. I finally bought Guilty Gear Strive, the apex of the genre. This game is definitely gonna let you see the light." Brad held the game case in the air like it was a holy grail.

Noah simply rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's goofiness. Brad booted the game up and went to the character selection screen. He went with his favorite character Sol Badguy. He loved the guy's confident attitude and badass fighting still. Noah had no idea who any of these characters were so he just followed his gut. Leo Whitefang looked pretty tough and he ess incredibly handsome so he gave him a shot.

Despite his love for the genre, Brad wasn't even all that good at playing Guilty Gear. His fighting style was sloppy and Noah was getting the edge on him just by button-mashing. It was kinda embarrassing on his part. He was the one who was supposed to have all the experience.

Their intense game session would eventually end in a draw between them. " See? I told you fighting games don't take any skill. You couldn't beat me even with all your talent." Noah goaded.

" I ugh... I was just going easy on you 'cause you aren't used to these types of games. I could've easily destroyed you with perfect health!" Brad said.

Brad was about to suggest to them a rematch when he felt his body heat up for a moment. The two men felt a sudden surge of energy wash over them. Noah was the first to notice the changes in his body. His round belly began to flatten, the excess fat migrating to his behind. His already shapely rear blossomed into a watermelon-sized booty you could stack a plate on. Washboard abs appeared on his stomach and any remaining fat was transferred to his pecs. No longer was Noah's hair a short white bob. It shifted into a wild mess of dirty blonde hair that spiked at the end. His cute chubby cheeks went away also. They got replaced by a chiseled jawline that held a sharp chinstrap beard. Completing the transformation was a black vest over a white collar shirt, a long orange jacket, and a pair of white pants.

Brad's transformation was no less dramatic. He was now sporting a long brown ponytail, a dog tag necklace that rested on his beefy chest, a badass-looking red jacket, and white jeans. He had become the spitting image of Sol Badguy save for one major improvement. Sol from the games was known for being a top-heavy guy, but this version of him had a thick set of thighs to compliment the rest of his body. His ass was of course ginormous just like Leo's.

" What in the world just happened!?" Noah exclaimed as he looked at his new body in astonishment.

" Dude I think that game disc must've been magic or something! We just turned into the hottest guys in gaming!" Instead of being shocked, Brad took the whole thing in stride. He just turned into one of his biggest videogame crushes. He now had the type of body other guys could only dream of. He stood in front of his full-length mirror to flex his epic muscles.

" This is horrible!" Leo exclaimed. " I don't know what kind of weird magic that seller used, but you need to get him to turn us back. I can't be seen looking like this!" Noah was obviously distraught. He looked like one of the himbos from the gay porn doujins Brad often showed him. Super muscular bodies with the biggest of butts. He remembered reading a short takezamurai doujin where Leo was a prostitute and a Devilbrew fanfiction where Leo made porn movies with Sol as his boyfriend. Since Noah didn't know a single thing about Leo's lore, he could only see the character as a massive whore. He wondered if others would see him in the same light.

" Bro, this is literally the coolest thing that could happen to us. These bodies are too hot to let go to waste."

Brad, or rather, Sol, pressed his chest against his boyfriend and looked deeply into his eyes. The two were locked in. The sexual tension couldn't understated.

Noah tried to back away, but Sol grabbed him by the crotch and began to gently rub the area. " Doesn't this turn you on? You were all bricked up when you read those doujins with me. You know you like it."

" I don't..." Noah tried to deny it, but his pleasure was evident from his blushing red face. Sol definitely was an incredibly attractive man that made him hard. He then felt Sol grab his ass, roughly squeezing both cheeks. The cheeks were so big they couldn't even fit in his hands. Noah had never been treated like this before. Maybe this was the big change he always needed. Sol kissed him on the lips while continuing to fondle with his genitals. It made Leo go weak in the knees having such a buff man feel him up.

The next thing Leo knew, he was in the bedroom getting his fat cheeks clapped by Sol. Sol fucked him furiously with all the power of a Gear. Leo's walls stood no chance against him. Leo felt his anus get crushed and his organs get rearranged by the dick of his dreams. His cheeks clapped rhythmically like it was some type of Morse code to tell Sol how good the dick was. Sol clearly understood the code and replied by slapping the ass hard enough to make them red.

The two men were virgins until recently, but they were fucking like pros. Maybe the game disc blessed them with incredible sex skills as a bonus. Their dorm neighbors surely heard all their moaning, clapping and ass squelching through those thin walls. If they knew all that noise was coming from video game characters come to life, they'd probably film the sex and show it to all their friends.

After an hour of nonstop fucking, their lovemaking had reached a dramatic finish. Sol and Leo blew their loads at the same time and drenched each other in their fluids. They were so high from all that amazing sex they could barely think straight.

" Now do you see the awesomeness of fighting games?" Sol asked with ragged breathing.

Leo smirked and kissed his lover on the lips. " Oh most definitely. Men from fighting games are just built different. "

☆☆☆☆☆☆

It was time for one of the biggest gaming conventions of the year so of course Sol and Leo made sure to be there. They swaggered all around the venue showing off their "cosplay" and letting eager fans take selfies with them. They were spitting images of the real Sol and Leo except for their much more revealing attire. Sol modified his black shirt to be a crop top that barely covered his pecs and his white jeans were now booty shorts that might as well have been a thong. Leo had done the same thing to his outfit so that they were matching. Total relationship goals.

" Now that has got to be the best cosplay I've seen yet." Leo turned around and couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was his voice actor Jamieson Prince! Standing next to him was David Forseth, the voice of Sol! Sol and Leo stood there with shocked expressions.

" You guys really knocked it out of the park with this one," David said. " You totally look like our characters!"

" Agreed. I don't remember Leo being quite so proactive, however." Jamieson said.

" I like it tho. It's kinda like they're paying tribute to the gay community. Is that the vibe you guys were going for?" David asked.

" ....Uh yeah totally! We take our cosplay super seriously and we're gay af so we wanted to combine our two passions." Sol said.

" We're really big fans of your work so if it isn't too much to ask, could we have your autographs? Preferably one on paper and another on our butts." Leo said.

" Now that's a request I don't get everyday. You guys deserve it for your outstanding job." Jamieson smiled.

The two actors handed the lovers paper autographs before writing their names on their gelatinous butts. They were even generous enough to take pictures for them so they could see their butt autographs. Sol and Leo never thought the day would come when they got to interact with their voice actors and they couldn't be any happier that it actually happened.

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 9

welcome the the ninth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics. 

1. drive me to distraction by @freshia

“Don’t worry, I got all the necessities.” he says, reassuringly, as if that’s what Keith is worried about. And then: “And if you ever want to see your Fall Out Boy t-shirt again, you’ll get in the vehicle! This is a robbery.”

Where Keith is sort of kidnapped for a road-trip with Lance, and is sort of okay with it.

road trip? college au?? best friends to lovers?? pining?? endless tenderness but never saying it put loud?? sign me tf UP. the last lines will fucking kill me every time like i literally have to close my eyes and force myself to breathe deeply. theres something so endless about refusing to speak your feelings out loud but they know what you mean anyway. god.

2. The Courage of Stars by @derryhawkins

The Lions of Voltron can turn into actual lions. Who knew, right? When Allura tells them of this news, Lance is ecstatic. The only problem? Lance figures out that he somehow has one of the strongest bonds with Blue. To keep the others from feeling bad about their own progress, he keeps this information to himself.

It doesn’t take long for certain others to think he’s not taking everything seriously.

this one is more langst than team-as-family, but i still love it deeply. i like it bc it has some nuance for allura, some explanation as to why she struggles to badly to connect with the paladins in the beginning. im not sure the series was ever finished, but this work in particular was, and i loved it! the lance & blue megabond is a treat to read every time.

3. Solar Flare by @heavenlyfires

Accompanied by the scattered applause throughout the ballroom, Keith lifts a slim brown hand in his own and presses a lingering kiss to the palm.

"It’s good to see you, Lance,” he says.

His voice is raw; his face feels naked. Keith’s known for his poker face, but here, in front of Lance, he has no self control. His emotions are spilling over onto his face like tears, too strong to be constrained.

He looks into Lance’s eyes and that suddenly doesn’t seem like such a bad thing.

“Yeah,” Lance whispers, a gentle and devastating smile on his face. He reaches a hand up — soft, Keith notes — and tucks some hair behind Keith’s ear. His fingers trace a gentle path across Keith’s jaw; his eyes flick across his face but inevitably come back to meet Keith’s own, the blue in them impossibly seeming warm toned with the full fond force of Lance’s gaze.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Lance says.

Has Keith mentioned yet that he loves him?

"Solar flares occur when a buildup of magnetic energy... is suddenly released.” - Space.com

After almost two years of unbearable distance, Keith and Lance find themselves at a ball, together.

fuckin pining klance and binary star imagery, man. gets me every time. i love me some post canon green sock reality where everything is good and right and keith and lance are somehow still pining like dumbasses, but are whipped to the point of ridiculousness. absolutely love that for them. and the idea of klance as a binary star system will fuckin make me tear up every time fr bc they ARE they are a GOOD TEAM

4. Nine Blocks and To-Go Cups by @jackwillwrite

"Can I have...six things of expresso?" Lance asks.

"Shots?" Keith offers, although he dearly hopes that's not what Lance is asking.

(In which Keith isn't sure how he ended up as a barista working shifts in the god-awful hours of the morning, and Lance is a regular who somehow manages to make it bearable.)

im trying so desperately to hype this fic up and also not spoil it but let me tell u when u get the lil twist ending and the title finally makes sense u will be GAGGED. i know i was. i could not believe what i was reading i wanted to YELL. it was insane and my heart still gets all pumped when i think about it bc i was truly like NO FUCKIN WAY

5. a fissure in my vision by @ink-beneath-her-fingernails

"It appears... Well, the Ranithians were under the impression that we were all adults by Terran standards. When they realized that you four technically aren't, or at least not entirely, they decided to... test you."

"Test us."

Lance's voice is flinty; icier than any of them have ever heard him, and he wears a face to match.

It's not a question.

(Or: Sometimes, the Paladins can't account for everything that might happen. Sometimes, even allies with good intentions can lead to awful things. Sometimes, your own mind is your worst enemy.

And sometimes, being a Paladin really, really sucks.)

words cannot express how much this fic has haunted me. literally the worst possible reality without actually being the worst. yall think you’ve read a crossover before?? think again!! hunk and lance’s arcs especially knocked me fucking flat. like i was just aching for them so so badly. sometimes when i wonder what could be worse (in terms of how much it would suck for the paladins, not how it was written; this was written beautifully) than canon i remember the paladins could have suffered through this

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!  

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝the garrison rat❞ CHP 14

THE FINAL CHAPTER

previous

summary: torn apart by an unexpected loss, you find yourself unable to leave birmingham. you’re aware that people notice you drinking in the garrison every other night, you’re aware they call you nicknames, but you don’t care about any of it— at least, not until you start speaking to john shelby. he’s looking for a wife and you vowed to never love again, which makes things a bit complicated.

warnings: smut, cocaine usage, infidelity, angst, brief mention of prostitution...if you’ve made it this far you’re probably not going to be surprised by anything in this chapter

word count: 5.6k

tag list: @datewithgianni @1950schick @clementinesjourney @cbouvier23@smailaway @cedricscoffin @buckysjuicyplums @belledawnidk @wandering-poetess @bobafett-tea​ @esposadomd​ 

a/n: holy shit, where do i even start??? it’s hard to believe that a one-shot turned fic series i only wrote as a distraction because i was mad that my movie date got cancelled got here today. thank you all for the support since september 2021, because the amount of people who have enjoyed this series and keysmashed over it and dmed me to say that they stayed up all night reading it is crazy, you guys blew me tf away. i’m kissing you all five times and doing the Hand Squeeze™ with everyone who has supported me over the past five hundred something days TGR has existed. i would gladly make plans to run away to paris with you. :)

//////

“Are you running away? Because it really looks like you’re running away.”

Your suitcase shut with a sharp SNAP. “It’s only temporary. And you keep your mouth shut about this, you hear me?”

Esme held up her hands like you were pointing a gun at her. “Okay, okay, I just really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“It’s only temporary,” you muttered to yourself, preoccupied again as you shoved another cigarette into your mouth, your fifth of the evening. You were refusing to voice your thoughts aloud: you were already thinking about finding a new place to be from. “London’s not that far away from here, is it?”

“You have no family in London, and no friends,” Esme replied. “Y/N, just stop packing the goddamn suitcase.”

You snorted as you lit your cigarette. “It’s funny how no one around here gets that there’s a whole world outside of Small Heath.”

“Yeah, and there’s a whole world of rock bottoms outside of Small Heath,” Esme shot back, flat and unconvinced. “You gravitate towards shitholes, y’know. You’re only just gonna make life worse for yourself all over again.”

“I need to get out of here,” you repeated stubbornly, exhaling a thin plume of smoke. “For just a week.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, this is going to go terribly,” Esme muttered under her breath, absently pouring a miniscule amount of the powdery white substance she had in a tiny vial onto her knuckle. “How are you not thinkin’ of the kids? Fuckin’ four of them and John still doesn’t know how to take care of them.”

You barely heard her; you were staring at the vial of cocaine.

You almost hesitated, but pointed at the table. “Bring it over here.”

Esme gave you a weird look, and there was a tense beat that made you think she wasn’t going to do it, but she pressed her knuckle to her nostril and sniffed with barely a flinch, then poured out a jagged line for you on the table behind her.

“Y/N, I…”

“It’s fine.”

You were already searching your back pockets for a bill, or some kind of thin object that could be rolled into a cylinder.

It didn’t feel good to do it, but one last time couldn’t hurt, right? You were a changed woman now, and you could control yourself - no matter how badly you wanted just another line, like you already knew you would.

Your freshly lit cigarette still burning between your two fingers, you rolled up the bill into a tight cylinder with the precision of someone who had done it hundreds of times before, leaned over the desk, and sniffed up a thin line of cocaine.

Like always, it hit you all at once, like a bolt of lightning. Oh, God.

And then everything became clear.

If there was one think you knew, it was that you were getting out of Small Heath tonight.

“Barely hit,” you muttered, looking up at Esme with dilated eyes. “Can I see the vial, please?”

//////

John was deep in the forest again, his bare feet caked in mud and moss and leaves, and he was going out of his mind with want.

“I miss you,” Martha purred like some long-lost, ethereal creature, and her cold, dainty hand glided around his shoulder. She had been circling him for the past ten minutes and yet her footsteps made no noise - she was pure magic, that woman was, and she smelled something sweet, like pound cake. Dizzy in her presence, John blinked hard as something in the depths of his mind purred happily, something primal and hidden blossoming to life, making him feel everything.

She was in her dress that she had worn to her wedding, the brilliant purple-pink wildflowers were braided into her hair like not a day had gone by, and John forgot that those flowers were actually dried and pressed into some obsolete book in the betting shop in the Parlour.

“Do you miss me?” she whispered, her cold hand on his other shoulder now, and John felt the skin there erupt into gooseflesh.

Martha sidestepped quickly, mystically as ever, and suddenly she was in front of him again. She had asked him a question, and he hadn’t answered.

Her hazel eyes glowed so brilliantly and ethereally that he was sure she made his blue Shelby eyes look hazel too, and he had to pause for a moment to take in her glittering beauty, her fair and freckled skin, her thin lips that had somehow been an insecurity of hers when she’d been alive, like they somehow hadn’t fit perfectly on her face and John hadn’t wanted to kiss them whenever he stared at them for too long.

John knew that he had opened his mouth to say something, but he wasn’t quite sure what had happened: either the words had come out as though he was underwater, a distorted, gibberish mess, or he had simply opened his mouth and not said anything at all.

He was suddenly aware of his heart pounding harder in his chest, and he tried to say, I do, I do, I do, but for some reason, the words couldn’t force their way past his lips.

“Clearly not, since you’re with that rat bitch,” Martha snarled, and it suddenly dawned on him that this wasn’t reality at all, not a lovely dream but a nightmare, and he started breathing hard until he was nearly hyperventilating, something like a panic attack settling in.

“No,” John tried to say, but his throat had closed off and he felt like he was screaming underwater. No. No. No.

This wasn’t the first time he’d felt something like this because he suffered from the soldier’s disease, but just because it was the hundredth time he’d experienced it didn’t mean it got any less terrifying. There was a whirlwind in his brain, a headrush so powerful like everything was incoherent, unreal, and he couldn’t– fucking– breathe—

“Kitchen towels!” Polly shouted from somewhere afar, scaring him awake. “For fuck’s sake, John, where are the bloody kitchen towels?”

John launched himself out of his chair and looked around: Polly wasn’t in his office, where he’d been sleeping for the past several weeks, but she was still shouting loud enough to be heard in the betting shop, so he straightened his cap and smoothed his rumpled suit like he hadn’t been asleep at all and hurried out of the door.

It’s too bloody early for this, he thought angrily.

When John got to the kitchen with the roll of kitchen towels from the betting shop, the first thing he noticed wasn’t Polly hurrying around with a broom, clearly agitated, or a cup of tea overturned everywhere on the kitchen’s pristine tile, but Esme standing in the open doorway of the Parlour, breathing hard, looking pale and panicked. He checked his watch. 6 AM. It was the middle of February; the sun hadn’t even risen yet. What the hell was going on?

He took another look at Polly, the cup of tea shattered on the floor, and Esme, his head swiveling back and forth between them like he was watching a ping-pong match. “Fucking hell, you lot, what’s the matter?”

His voice was groggy and dehydrated, but he blinked hard and tried to ignore it.

You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake.

“Y/N is fuckin’ missing, that’s the matter,” Polly snapped, venom seeping through her voice as she snatched the kitchen roll from his hands to clean up the mess of liquid and ceramic shards on the floor, “Esme here storms in at six o’clock in the bloody morning, tellin’ me all fuckin’ panicked that she woke up at the Lee house down the street and Y/N wasn’t there when she was spendin’ the night, and she was goin’ on about how she wanted to leave Small Heath before she fell asleep…”

A fresh round of cold, unsettling panic doused John, and seeing the darkening look on his face, Esme grimaced sympathetically at him. “A part of me thought she was joking, I tried to talk her out of it. I’m sorry, John.”

“Well, what’s done is done,” Polly snapped with the air that she was only becoming more pissed with every word Esme spoke, and straightening, she slammed the roll of towels on the counter and chucked the shards of ceramic into the garbage. “Gather Arthur and Tommy, we need to have the Blinders looking for her. The earlier we can find her, the better.”

He nodded.

“Arthur!” he bellowed down the hallway, without a care in the world for his kids or anyone else. “Get the fuck up!”

//////

Understandably, there were no trains running at three in the morning, the time you’d left a sleeping Esme at the Lee house on Watery Lane, so you simply shifted your bag higher on your shoulder and decided to find another place in Small Heath to camp out until the sunrise.

Still on your cocaine high, you refused to look at your reflection in the windows of the shopfronts you passed. You already felt disheveled and bloodshot, you didn’t need to see it.

Eventually, you settled on an alleyway some three blocks away from the station. You pressed your back against the wall and slid down it until you were sitting on the damp stretch of dirt, dead grass, and litter.

You moved your bag from your shoulder to your lap and inhaled sharply: if you were aware of your body for too long, the cocaine pain in your ribs made you feel like your entire body was on fire. You had a small bottle of vodka in your suitcase to ration, and you’d feel even better after a few burning gulps from the bottle, but you resolved not to start drinking at least until you got on the train.

The cocaine high would have to be enough for now, you decided.

You sighed as your head suddenly spun, and the hazy feeling of unreality settled deep into your chest, making your heart pound harder and harder until sweat was dampening the back of your neck. Your brain was throbbing hard, but euphoria pulsed through your entire body, and for that feeling alone, it was worth it.

God, cocaine was terrible, but simultaneously beautiful. You’d almost missed it.

Sure, you definitely hadn’t missed always feeling like you were on the verge of fainting, nor the aching and the itchiness and the cold liquid that seemed to bubble in your veins after you came down from your high, indicating that you were sober again, but whatever, it was three in the morning in a shitty corner of England, you were alone and staring up at the glinting stars in the sky, inhaling the ever-present scent of manure and cigarette smoke, and your cocaine-fucked brain promptly decided that nothing else mattered but this moment.

The year is 1920, you thought dumbly, in that same blearily existential way only someone who was extremely high could. Will people still appreciate the Earth’s beauty a hundred years from now?

You probably wouldn’t be around to see it, but you hoped they did, and you squinted up at the sky to scope out any possible constellations. You’d never had a chance to notice it before, but this was a Nevada kind of view, which made you think of a moment five years earlier where you were lying in the great expanse of desert beneath the stars, watching Sam’s chest slowly rise and fall as he slept, swiping at the mosquitos whenever they got too close.

You weren’t all that aware of it, but your entire face stretched into a tired smile, making your cheeks ache. Goddamn, I love cocaine.

The next moments passed in a blink: suddenly the sun was rising, and you were at the station again, and you couldn’t remember how you’d gotten a ticket in your hands but you were already carrying your things onto the train, and vaguely acting sober, you stumbled into the first empty carriage you saw, all while your body didn’t feel like your own and you were simply a spectator to your own activities.

Which, honestly, you preferred. You had no fucking time to regret any of this.

//////

“Y/N?” John shouted, shining a flashlight down the long, empty hallway of the old Lee house. He’d stomped in there the minute the car had rolled into the field, so fast and panicked that he hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights, meaning the house was shrouded in darkness. “Y/N!”

“Are you absolutely sure you didn’t see her at the train station?” he heard Esme snap at some Blinder waiting outside.

“Why would I lie for the fuckin’ Garrison rat?” John heard him reply before he stepped out of range, and scowling, he burst into the bedroom Esme had said you’d slept in days ago.

It was stripped bare, not even your scent had been left behind, like you’d never been inside the room in the first place, which only made the dread crawling down his back worse.

You’re a fucking knobhead, John scolded himself, pivoting on his heel to exit the room. A fucking knobhead, you know that? What kind of husband has their wife walk out on them?

Regretting his excessive drinking and smoking, sleeping in his office, booking his favourite whore at Zhang’s, and avoiding his wife like the plague, John ran back onto the field with his knuckles aching to kill something.

He took his cap off to smooth his hair back. “She’s not there.”

“‘Course she’s not,” Esme said resignedly.

“Where the fuck would she had gone?” John shouted at her, resisting the urge to grab her and violently shake her, purely to keep the peace between the families. “Esme, did she tell you any place that she was wanting to go?”

Esme opened her mouth and closed it.

“London,” she whispered back, her eyes wide. “She told me she wanted to go to London.”

“London!” he yelled in disbelief, whipping around. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“The trains start early in the morning,” she bit out, twisting her hands together. The Blinder beside her was staring at her, wide-eyed, as though trying to find a way to insert himself into the conversation, but both she and John ignored him. “John, if we can’t find her, that means she already went.”

Unadulterated rage swept through him, bitter and blinding, but John choked it down. “Fuck.”

Ducking out of the way so they wouldn’t see his glossy eyes, he started to stomp away. “Get back in the fucking car.”

//////

London was sprawling and gleaming when the train noisily rolled into the station, and in your threadbare, dirt-stained skirt and cardigan, you felt like you weren’t expensive-looking enough to fit in.

No matter, you told yourself, but the voice in your head was much too pleasant and lacking the predisposed anxiety and misery to truly sound like yourself. You can simply buy new clothes.

Plus, you already knew you weren’t planning on staying in London for long anyway.

You hummed a quiet but hopeful folk song you’d first heard at the Garrison to yourself as you retrieved your things from the compartment, your heart already pounding hard with excitement at the thought of leaving the train. As you hummed out what little lyrics you could remember, a pang of sadness hit your gut for the first time since you’d snorted cocaine: you’d miss Grace, but you were happy her beautiful voice had become engraved in your memory.

Her voice was yours to keep forever.

Smiling, you carried your bags through the narrow hallway and descended the train.

And sweet Jesus, the air of London smelled like the most refreshing summer breeze simply because of the absence of manure and furnace smoke. The station was still overcrowded with people, which normally would have alarmed you had you been sober, but this time you didn’t even care, it almost felt like you had snorted another few lines of cocaine as you waded through the onslaught of people, a dumb grin plastered on your face.

Girl, you are high as balls.

You caught sight of a husband waiting at the gate with a bouquet of flowers for his approaching wife, and quickly glanced away. You didn’t need anything like that to bother you right now.

“Airport?” you asked aimlessly to the people around you. “Does anyone know how to get to the airport from here?”

After a minute or two of wandering around and shouting among the onslaught of people, a man not much older than Tommy Shelby finally turned around.

“Airport?” he asked, squinting down at you. “You’ll need to go to Croydon.”

“Where is that?” you asked sweetly, layering on the Americana glitter in your charming Garrison rat voice, batting your eyelids at him. “It’s my first time in London, you see.”

The man smiled and extended his hand. “I can take you there, miss, for a fee. I’ll carry your things for you.”

“How much quid?” you asked absent-mindedly, peering down into your bag to find your change. “I can give you, uh, maybe twenty-”

“I’m not talking about money,” he cut in, and your head snapped up like a deer in headlights. How dare he, knowing that you had a very expensive wedding ring glistening on your fing–

You stopped yourself.

You weren’t wearing your wedding ring.

It was rolling around somewhere in the depths of your bag.

Time seemed to slow down and your heart pounded even faster, cocaine influence or not, but what shocked you the most was the odd sense of relief, making the ugly scar stretching across the length of your abdomen tingle.

Men still desired you.

With your head slightly spinning and the residue feeling of your body not being your own anymore, it was the most chilling reminder that you weren’t sober: you suspected that in any other state of mind, you would feel differently about this, but right now you didn’t care.

Wasn’t the whole point of coming to London that you didn’t want to feel chained by the Shelbys anymore?

“Take me there,” you heard yourself say after what felt like a century, and the man’s grin widened. “Of course, ma’am.”

Please protect me, God, a voice whispered in the depths of your mind, and accepting his outstretched hand, you let him guide you out of your train station.

//////

Tommy Shelby pushed the heavy mahogany doors of the Garrison open with a flourish, stepped into the pub, and promptly bellowed at the top of his lungs, “Everybody out!”

It had been bad enough losing his own love to a mind-boggingly similar situation two months ago, but Christ, how likely was it for John boy to go through the same goddamned thing? He wasn’t sure if he was impressed or annoyed. What had gotten into the women of today? Was this something he seriously had to be worried about?

The few number of patrons at 11 AM on a Wednesday morning quickly made themselves scarce with a frightened look on their faces, and for the first time that morning, Tommy had a chance to sigh before he approached the confused and frightened barmaids behind the bar.

After Grace, he felt a deep inner hatred more intensely than he had before her, and this morning was no exception.

“Have you seen Y/N Lee around these parts in the past few weeks, ladies? Y/N Shelby? The Garrison rat?”

The two barmaids looked at each other, puzzled, and one opened her mouth but promptly closed it.

“You,” Tommy said, pouncing on her. “Did you see the Garrison rat at all?”

“I…uh….” she stuttered, and Tommy cocked his head in anticipation for her words. Where was the easy grace that all of the barmaids seemed to have whenever a Blinder visited? “I…”

The barmaid gulped and stared at the floor. “She came in here once, lookin’ like a mess, and said she was getting out of here that night.”

“What kind of mess was she?” he pressed, leaning forward. “Drunk? Sniffing snow?”

“She - she was covered in blood,” the barmaid choked out, and he recognized the telltale signs of an anxiety attack as she started shaking. “Covered in blood. And vomit. And dirt. And twigs. And she had this…crazed look in her eyes. None of the drunks have it, so I knew she wasn’t drunk. She meant what she was saying with a burning passion. She wanted somebody dead.”

Tommy thought back to the night that pathetic boy was killed, the way he’d wailed and screamed and cried as John pummelled him. It had been a real mess when you’d ran off like that, and there was no signs that you’d even been bothered until before then.

He eyed the other barmaid, who was pale as a ghost.

“Go make a drink for your friend,” he told her. “Ma’am, what’s your name?”

“Edith,” the sniffling barmaid replied, staring at the floor.

“Edith,” Tommy repeated. “Well, Edith, thank you for your time, but I’m afraid that the Garrison rat has fulfilled her promise as of this morning.”

With a haunting sort of finality, he replaced his cap and turned on his heel to exit the Garrison.

//////

“Fuck!”

Before John could stop it, a long, frustrated, angry scream ripped out of his throat, and it was so loud within the confined space of his office that it made his own ears ring. He was the only one here now, and it had been that way for an hour: the rest of the family had gone out looking for his wife.

His vision suddenly blurry with tears, he punched his desk over and over again, screaming at the top of his lungs, his hands stinging, his heart pounding, everything spiralling out of control at once. All of his emotions had been pushed as far as they could possibly go ever since he woke up, and at 4 PM in the afternoon, this was the only opportunity he’d had to let them out.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

John felt blood trickling down his knuckles and he finally stopped, cursing, hating himself. Why did he have to be like this? He would feel nothing but indifference for weeks on end until it all came rushing out of him like an avalanche.

Well, some part of him knew this explosion was warranted. It was forever frustrating being back to square one: without a wife, without a stepmother to take care of his kids, without love and painfully aware that he was without Martha. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d felt it, but it was the first time the feeling seared through his chest like a volcano erupting: he’d wished he’d never had kids.

“Why am I so stupid?” John shouted at himself in the thick silence. “Fucking hell, why am I so fucking stupid?”

Get it out, some type of comforting voice told him in the back of his head. Get it all fucking out.

His knuckles were pouring blood now, screaming for bandages, but John leapt from his chair and shoved everything off his desk in a giant sweep.

He picked up an empty vase behind him and threw it as hard as he could at the wall, where it exploded in a shower of glass.

He ripped open all the cabinets of his desk and yanked out all of the files, lobbing them at the wall, throwing them on the ground, tearing them in half, and when that wasn’t enough, he lifted his office chair and pounded it into the ground as violently as he could.

“Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!”

He couldn’t even remember when he’d started screaming anymore, but his throat was raw as he lobbed the splintered, broken pieces of the chair at the wall.

His hands were covered in blood, and he had a sobering feeling that maybe he should stop now, but no matter how self-destructive he was being, the rage was addicting, and he was throwing various detritus from the wreckage as hard as he could at the wall. The rush of pain flooding to his knuckles was almost gratifying— thank God, he could still feel things. Even if he was feeling too much, he was feeling, and that was good.

Tears were streaming down his face, and when he tried to inhale through his nose, his nostrils were blocked with snot, but he couldn’t stop. His entire face was red from overexertion and his hands were bleeding and he couldn’t stop shaking and he couldntfuckingbreathe, like he was a little kid throwing a tantrum, and—

If his throat was raw when he’d had the energy to destroy things, it was nothing like how it felt now. “Fuck!”

Maybe this is how Y/N felt when she saw me kill that monarchist fucker, John thought dumbly, and he sank to his knees in his demolished mess of an office, a tide of regret crashing through him unlike anything before.

This feeling hit him like it was trying to kill him.

//////

The car was parked in the parking lot of the airport, and it hadn’t moved for the past ten minutes.

It was cramped, uncomfortable, and questionably damp, but the man who’d driven you there-- Billy, you’d since learned his name was--  wouldn’t buy the plane ticket for you until you gave him your payment, and you had nothing left to lose. With Paris being a hefty cheque away, a daring trip that you could just barely afford, you had weighed your options and promptly decided fuck it, just get it over with.

Without breaking eye contact with him, you licked a thick stripe up the underside of his length before pulling back to suck the tip, darting your tongue around it, producing the filthiest slurping sounds he’d ever heard as you bobbed around him. He wasn’t longer than John, but a little thicker, and it was an interesting change to feel how his cock felt in your mouth.

“Fuck,” Billy murmured, weaving a hand through your hair as you swiped his cock over your wet lips, teasing it over your warm mouth, smearing your red lipstick further down your chin. “Fuck, just like that - gonna - fuck-”

He came fast with barely a warning, warm droplets of come spilling onto your tongue. Knowing you were almost done, you wrapped a hand around his length to jerk him off, gulping him down as best you could while he kept his hand tight in your hair, ensuring that you swallowed every last bit.

Saltier, you noted. Well, that’s a bit disgusting.

//////

He had her on her back so he wouldn’t have to look at her, but it was still so hard to pretend that she was someone else: the dark curly hair spilling over her shoulders that looked nothing like her hair, the breathy little moans that fell from her lips that sounded nothing like hers, even the way her pussy squeezed his cock, they were all dead giveaways that she wasn’t who John desperately wanted her to be. And no matter how hard he tried, she wouldn’t be.

“Oh, God,” Esme moaned, grabbing the headboard to keep herself from falling over as John fucked into her just a little bit harder, and his hand was wrapped around her neck before he even registered it being there.

“Shut up.”

She wasn’t listening.

“Fuck, John, I’m gonna-” –With one hand on the headboard, she was furiously rubbing her clit now– “I think I’m gonna - oh fuck -”

She collapsed from underneath him as her orgasm rushed through her body, but in a split-second he’d yanked her upright by her hair, back to her original position, except her arms were pinned behind her back.

This was about control.

Fucking her even harder now, his voice was furious in her ear as he whispered:

“Next time you come, you’re gonna ask for my permission, yeah?”

//////

Paris was golden.

Golden and full of pickpockets, that was for sure. The one drawback of such a fashionable, progressive city, you had to keep a tight hold on your purse as you made your way to the closest bar, or the bar à cocktails, as you frequently heard the locals call it.

Three months into living in Paris, you fit right in with the people born and raised here: they tended to go all out in comparison to Birmingham, their wardrobes were fashionable, flashy, and fancy to the point where a floor-length dress, your most expensive pearl necklace, and a glittery headband had become your drinking attire. You couldn’t imagine the stares had you worn the Garrison rat’s usual outfit of trousers and a blouse anywhere in Paris. 

So, when it came down to it, you didn’t mind being bold, not at all. It was the années folles, after all, and life was good.

The same way British slang had slowly seeped into your vocabulary when you were an American trapped in Birmingham, your accent was starting to change the longer you stayed in Paris. Words like “quid” and “fucking hell” were slowly starting to disappear in your internal monologue, instead being replaced with “franc” and “merde”. Eventually, your American accent wrapped around the French words you spoke with a kind of ease, your thoughts came to you in French more than they did in English, and it dawned on you one day that you couldn’t have imitated the sweetness of the Garrison rat’s voice if you tried.

Honestly, you couldn’t care less. Maybe it was for the better.

You gently pushed open the glass door to the bar and, smoothing your dress, walked inside.

Lilting jazz, warm golden light, quiet conversation, respectful barmaids, a wide array of bottles at the bar, and best of all, sparsely populated. You loved coming to this place— you were already a couple of shots in, of course, but you enjoyed the French stuff.

You carefully sat down on your usual barstool to the left of the barmaid and calmly told her, “Comme d’habitude.”

She nodded without looking at you, emotionless. “Pas de problème.”

You settled back onto the stool, content to think about nothing for a moment as your drink was being made, but you sensed him approaching you before you saw him. Even though you had to tell yourself that you weren’t the Garrison rat anymore, that mysterious charm hadn’t been lost on the men of Paris, clearly.

The new man— dark hair, gray eyes, nothing remarkable — sat on the stool to your direct left, with the kind of forced confidence that immediately told you he had to practice it before coming over to sit with you, and you refused to look at him.

The barmaid slid a shot over to you, and the mysterious new man held up his hand, as though to intercept you from paying. “Je vais le payer.”

Looking anywhere but his face, you didn’t stop him as he handed over a fistful of coins to the barmaid.

Why should you? It was free drinks. That was welcomed in Las Vegas, New York City, Small Heath, and Paris.

As the barmaid walked away to attend to a new customer, his attention was on you now.

“Vous venez souvent dans ce bar.”

It was a statement, not a question. You looked at him, your face completely blank, and said nothing.

He smirked at you. “Vous aimez cette musique, oui? Le jazz est toujours beau. Bon pour danser.”

When you still said nothing, growing slightly frustrated now, he asked, “Quelle est votre histoire?”

You scoffed, and finally decided to speak.

“C’est une longue histoire. Une trop longue histoire. La seule chose que je sais, c’est que je ne tomberai plus jamais en amour, donc si vous pensez m’inviter à danser, n’essaie pas.”

The man looked at you for a long moment, before getting up from the stool and walking away— wordless, the kind of complicated look on his face that you didn’t understand. And it pissed you off, really, not understanding why he had the audacity to look hurt.

With the drunken blurriness of your vision, as the man retreated into the distance, his silhouette seemed to be absorbed by the gleaming, golden light, and you let out a low sigh of relief as you were left alone again. Alone with your thoughts.

You turned back to the bar and found yourself lost in the murky depths of your drink that he’d paid for. Through the haze, you blearily noticed that you’d started thinking in English again. Blunt and short sentences, but still: English.

I’m never going to love again.

//////

AUGUST 1920 - SMALL HEATH, BIRMINGHAM

I’m never going to love again, thought John as he stared moodily across the length of the merry Garrison. Grace may not have been there anymore, but the roaring folk songs every night had remained in her memory, and someone had clearly written a new one for the drunks to sing.

The only person there that wasn’t singing, John couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood to act as though there weren’t any horribly-concealed glances in his direction every few minutes. Though, as time went on, they were becoming lesser and lesser, the Garrison rat was disappearing into a mythical woman that belonged to the folklore of Small Heath. Honestly, in the months without her, sometimes it was hard to believe that she had ever truly lived.

The song roared on.

“Oh, the Garrison rat, the Garrison rat, she left at twilight and we haven’t seen her since that…”

[pimosworld]

Only if you catch me

Pairing-Frankie Morales x f!reader

Series Summary-You meet Frankie when you least expect it. Both of you hiding from your past and trying to find each other won’t be easy, but it’s worth it if forever is with him. 

Series Warnings- 18+,MDNI, NSFW, Angst, hurt/comfort, Slow-ish burn, Explicit Smut, D/S dynamics, canon typical violence, Tom is mentioned (but dead), The boys got the money, Frankie helping reader open up in the bedroom, mentions of past abusive relationships, recovering addict, PTSD, tough family relationships, healing through therapy, protective Frankie, protective TF boys, found family, reader is a photographer , no description of reader other than the nickname Flash. 

WC-7k (who am I?)

A/N- This introductory chapter got me so excited for this. I hope you love these two as much as I do.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter 1. Aperture

This should be a simple shoot.

  In and out. 

  Easy enough to dust off the cobwebs and get your name out there in a new city. An amateur boxer about to go pro. He needs a promo bill for some huge fight he has coming up. The details don’t really concern you about why. It’s the who. 

  Capturing a good shot isn’t about the camera or the angle, it’s not even about the time of day or lighting. That’s all secondary to who and what is in front of the lense. The emotion makes the image feel one hundred times better than the camera could ever try to capture. 

  You figured this would be a good way to dip your toes back into working. 

  You're early. An odd habit you picked up from knowing that the most meaningful shots are captured when everyone’s guard is down. When the family is setting up or when the bride is hanging out with her friends. When everyone is too preoccupied to pose…that’s when the magic happens. 

  It’s a modest gym, warehouse style on the edge of town. Thankfully not far from your new apartment so you didn’t have to stress about still not knowing your way around. Judging by the minimal trucks in the parking lot it’s a private shoot. That helps your nerves settle a little more not having to be in too large of a crowd. 

  You can tell you’re stalling so you brace your hand on your tote bag and the other on the door handle and haul yourself out of the old green Jeep. The most tried and true possession you own besides the Nikon Z nestled neatly in its case. 

  ****

  Low rumbles of men’s voices hit you when you enter the gym. The scent of sweat soaked leather and old wooden floors. The faint hint of liniment and gym mats. 

  The front desk is empty but you wait there for a brief moment. Taking in the clean front entry way  with various pictures on the wall. Some posed and some candids of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen. Just beyond the desk is a large framed photo of some of the men and one brunette clad in military gear. 

  A huge roar of laughter sounds from the other room, a welcoming sound that you feel yourself being pulled towards. So you take a deep breath, shrugging your strap higher on your shoulder and venture towards it. 

  You wanted to look nice,professional on your first job. Now the heels clicking against the wood, signaling to the men that a woman is approaching seems like the worst idea you’ve ever had. All eyes land on you as you enter the main area of the gym. There’s two men in the ring. One man is hunched over, dripping sweat as he looks like he ran several miles. A tall blonde leans on the ropes, looking the opposite of exhausted as he does nothing to disguise the way he rakes up and down your form. A huskier version of him is making his way towards you, a look in his eyes almost like he’s stalking prey, yet there’s something familiar there and it dawns on you that they were in the photo. 

  Another man across the room leans against the wall, his broad back turned away from everyone while he talks on his phone. His hand flits nervously to the back of his neck as he continues his conversation in hushed words. 

  “You’re early. I like that.” The man extends his hand and you compose yourself briefly to offer a former handshake than he expected. You can see it in his eyes as he releases it. “I’m Will, that’s my brother Ben in the ring that you’ll be taking photos of.” 

  “Hi sweetheart.” Ben blows you a kiss with his gloved hand and you raise your eyebrows at the forward gesture. Handsome, cocky, definitely not your type. 

  “Ignore him.” 

  “It’s kind of my job to do the opposite.” You offer up as you make your way to an open bench and he laughs genuinely. 

  You can feel the nerves rolling off you in waves as you open your bag to set up your camera. You know they’re watching, waiting for instruction and something about having the cool heavy metal in your hand always turns you into a bit of a bossy bitch. You don’t mean it but you can tell around these men you’ll have to hold your own or run the risk of being treated like a joke. 

  Will had already gone over in great detail via email what his vision was for Ben’s promo. The man was meticulous in his description of how he wanted his brother to look. You could tell how much he cared about his image in the way he wanted you to capture his youthfulness and passion for the sport. You didn’t need any further direction when you squared up alongside the ring. 

  “You here to capture my boyish good looks?” Ben flexes his muscles as you take a photo catching him slightly off guard. 

  “Just pretend I’m not here.” You gesture towards the other man in the ring who’s finally gained some composure. 

  “That’s James, don’t worry about him. He likes getting his ass kicked.” 

  “Oh…I guess you would know.” Ben scoffs and Will has to hide his smile behind his hands at your banter. Not one to back down from a little teasing and unbeknownst to Ben capturing candid photos while he tries to flirt. 

  You flit your eyes to Will in a silent communication. 

  “Ben! Focus please.” 

  It’s almost immediate the way he switches to fight mode. Dancing around his opponent, toying with him like he’s a child. He doesn’t seem phased by the snap of your camera as you take a few test shots. 

  The way he bites his lip when he’s squaring up his opponent. How he bounces left to right when he doesn’t have a good shot. Maybe only you notice because you’re watching him so intently when he realizes he’s found his opening. His vision zeroes in and his movements cease. 

  That’s when you take the shot. 

  “He’s too photogenic.” The low sultry voice registers behind you but it doesn’t cause you to startle. 

  “Disgustingly so.” 

  He laughs, and there it is again. The boldened, unadulterated laugh that these men have a lock on. 

  You don’t have to turn around to know the mysterious voice is accompanied by the man that you’ve been eyeing since you got here. He’s confident enough to penetrate your bubble of safety to occasionally peek over your shoulder as you check the shots you're getting. 

  If he notices you flinch at the sound of leather meeting skin he doesn’t say anything. 

  “It’s a shame such a handsome face chooses to subject itself to such torture.” You say as you continue to adjust the angle. He glances over to you, watching you work. Trying to keep his eyes off your legs exposed in your knee high sundress. 

  His body is closer to you now, this stranger. 

  “He doesn’t make a habit of getting hit.” He smirks when you look at him and there’s no cover for you as your lips curl into a smile. “It’s easy to not pretend that he’s so good looking.” 

  “Don’t sell yourself short.” 

  He looks at you then as he brushes his fingers along his lips. Chocolate brown eyes piercing into you and you can’t help but snap a picture. 

  It’s brief. The moment of apprehension from him as you study the photo on your lense camera. This stranger is awaiting your approval. Likely not having his photo taken in such an intimate setting in quite some time. Another one of the handsome men from the front desk picture. 

  It takes you by surprise when you see it. 

  If he notices he doesn’t say a word. 

  He’s beautiful. An old world beauty with all hard lines and soft eyes. He sidles up next to you and the warmth emanating from him is enough to have you delirious. 

  “So…what’s the verdict?” 

  You bite your lip and hold on as you glance up at him. His mouth slightly parted in an o shape as he watches you release it. 

  “You’re a natural.” 

  “Francisco.” 

  You give him your name and he says it like a command. 

  “Hey, I’m not paying you to take pictures of his ugly mug.” Ben’s voice cuts through the little moment you were having with him as he flips his friend off, looking a little sheepish at having displayed it in front of you. 

  You send him an apologetic look as you get back to work. You occasionally check the images to make sure the lighting isn’t off. It’s glaringly obvious that Ben is posing and it’s throwing you off. You want him to look more natural but instead it’s coming off like a cheesy catalog. 

  “So…you borrowing that camera from Andy?” There’s that voice again, so close to you and you can’t deny it does something that you wish it wouldn’t. 

  You smirk glancing down at the black and white label just above your lense. 

  ANDY

  “No, that’s her name…Andromeda.” Offering up no further explanation you continue shooting, walking around the ring because you have to find a way to work around Ben's chaos. 

  He’s following closely behind as his heavy footsteps creak on the old wood floors. His arms crossed against his chest as you look over your shoulder. His face reads exactly what you would expect from purposefully leaving someone in the dark for your own amusement. 

  “Andy because Andromeda wouldn’t fit…Andromeda was rumored to be the most beautiful and…” You trail off as you admire it in your hand. “She’s the most beautiful in my collection and the most important to me.” 

  Running his tongue over the front of his teeth you think he wants to make fun but it’s quite the opposite. You’re distractingly beautiful and cute and if he was feeling adventurous he’d call you Andromeda but he’s not confident enough to dish that one out. So he stays quiet. 

  Too quiet. 

  You’re panicking thinking how you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of this handsome man and you should back pedal. Explain away your ramblings because you’re so used to not being understood. Yet he surprises you. 

  “I have a heli named Lucy.” 

  He mentions all casually and you have to register that he means helicopter. Subtle 

  “Francisco.” 

  “Frankie, my friends call me.” 

  “Frankie…you own a helicopter?” 

  Will stepped into the ring to let Ben know he can stop torturing James. Frankie has to thank his friend as he sees him grab Ben to keep him from intruding on one of the best conversations he’s had in awhile. 

  “It’s not meant to be a brag, but yes.” 

  You hum in approval as you turn to look at him. Your eyes pin him to the spot and he feels his face grow hot. 

  “Lucy is a lucky lady.” 

  It’s the gleam in your eyes. The way his stomach does a flip when he gets a whiff of your perfume. He’d throw away all notions of the cliche love at first sight because maybe he finally sees how it’s possible. It also welcomes another uneasy feeling. The feeling that people are so quick to settle for less, something he’s done most of his life because that’s what he thought he deserved. His last few relationships he settled just to feel comfortable and one of those almost took him under. 

  “So did you turn me into a model or what?” Ben slaps Frankie on the back and he’s never wanted to strangle him more. “Or what.” Mumbled under his breath and he catches your smile ear to ear. 

  You don’t answer as you see Will approaching already knowing who has the final say. 

  Ben’s ribbing him, sending all sorts of suggestive eyes at Frankie as he wraps his sweaty body on his shoulders and you slink away to handle business. 

  ****

  “These look great.” You know Will is being nice when it comes to your work…you don’t want nice. You want honest. 

  “They could look better.” He snorts as he looks over at his brother shadow boxing Frankie.

  “Tell me more.” 

  ****

  You’d said your goodbyes and made your way out of the gym with your dignity intact. Stepping out into the parking lot to take the first deep breath in over an hour. 

  Will was thoroughly impressed with the photos. So impressed that he asked you…practically begged you to photograph Ben's upcoming fight. You think this may have just been an audition for that but you can’t be mad since he paid you for today and you got to meet Frankie. 

  He could sense your apprehension and assured you that the fights are nothing but professional and he would be there if you had any concerns. Of course you were secretly hoping Frankie would be there as well. 

  Since moving to Tampa Florida a year ago you knew dating was out of the question. The dramatic fashion in which you ended up here was enough to have you swearing off all forms of a relationship. As the months passed and you watched your savings dwindle you knew it was only a matter of time before you picked up your camera again and tried to find that sliver of hope that you hadn’t lost the passion for something you once loved. 

  Meeting Frankie was unexpected and it makes you wonder if you’re even ready for this. It seems you’re getting a little ahead of yourself because all you received when you left him was a polite nice to meet you. You didn’t miss the way his friends looked at him as though he had more to say. 

  You put the keys in the ignition of your old Jeep praying to anyone listening that it will still turn over. You know it’s on its last leg but you definitely can’t afford a new car right now. The weak ac blows in your face as it roars to life and you curse yourself for having chosen a place so humid that everything clings to you to the point of suffocation. 

  Your phone is buzzing in your tote and you already know who it is before checking. 

  “Hi Dom.” 

  “How’d you know it was me?” You take a long pause and hear her chuckle on the other end. 

  “Dominique, you’re the only person I talk to.” 

  Your sister, the only family member you can still stomach talking to. The only sane one who understood your struggles and didn’t dismiss your need to separate from your toxic mom and stepdad. 

  You felt bad leaving her behind but she had a family of her own that kept her afloat. Her wife Elise and your adorable nephew Casey were the only family you acknowledged at this point. 

  “So how was the shoot?” You can hear it in her voice. You know what she’s really asking. Are you okay?

  “It was great honestly.” You pause long enough for her to seem worried. She always worried, being your older sister. 

  “Hmmm.”

  “I’m being honest. It went a lot better than I thought. I was having second thoughts at first with this being my first one, but the second I started it was like riding a bike.” 

  “And you were fine with the fighting?” A beat of silence. 

  “Yes…it wasn’t really fighting, more so just throwing a few punches and dancing around.” You clear your throat. “The boxer is actually a sweetheart. His friend and brother were there too and they were really nice.” 

  “Ohhh tell me more about this boxer.” 

  “Oh no he’s not the one.-“ You hadn’t stopped yourself in enough time to catch the way you specified that there was one. 

  “The brother…wait no let me guess.” You groan at your sister’s incessant detective skills. “It’s the friend isn’t it?” 

  “It’s no one actually.” Which isn’t quite a lie. “Oh shit.” 

  You hear your sister frantically asking what’s wrong when you see Frankie exiting the gym. It looks like he’s coming right towards you but maybe he’s just parked near you. You don’t seem to be that lucky when he rounds the side of your car and taps on the window. 

  “Give me a sec Dom.” 

  You roll down the window as you try to calm your beating heart. He leans against the side slightly ducking to shield himself from the sun and you notice how snugly his shirt fits around his bicep. 

  “This Jeep has to be almost twenty years old.” He glances in at the pristine interior admiring your mini camera charm hanging from the rearview mirror. 

  “Wow, we’re starting off with insults.” You smile and he can’t help the way it’s already so easy with you. 

  “It was meant as a compliment.” The way he drops his voice and his close proximity has you sweating, or maybe the humidity is taking over. “Anyway…I just wanted to let you know I’ll be there on Friday. Will said you seemed a little nervous.” 

  You groan as you hide your face in your hands “Was it that obvious?” 

  He hesitates as he looks at the worry lines between your brows, wanting to smooth them out with his thumb and he thinks me might actually be losing his mind over you. “No…I’m sure it was fine.”

  Fine

  He removes his cap as he runs his fingers through his hair and it’s not evident if he’s doing it on purpose or if it’s a nervous habit but you wish he would stop looking so handsome. 

  “I look forward to seeing you and Andy on Friday.” His eyebrow arched and his lips curled up into a smile. 

  You plop your hands dramatically on the steering wheel. “I’ll be the awkward one with a camera if you can’t find me.” You both laugh and a moment passes as you wait for something, you’re not sure what. “Bye Frankie.”

  You roll up your window and sigh at the cool air hitting your damp skin as he takes one last look at you over his shoulder. You think he’s heading to leave but he retreats back into the gym and you realize he came out here looking for you. You are so fucked. 

  You shakily hold the phone up to your ear. “Dom, you still there?”

  A shriek echoes in your ear as you hold the phone away. 

  “I’m deaf now…are you happy?” You can practically see her face on the other end. All teeth and tongue as she tries to contain her sarcasm. 

  “Who’s Frankie, how does he know about Andy? What’s happening on Friday?” She’s spiraling now and you don’t have the patience to sit in this parking lot any longer. 

  “I gotta go Dom, I’ll explain later.” 

  “Don’t you dare hang up-“

  ****

  Friday

  You’d been nervously counting down the days leading up to the fight for several reasons. The thought of seeing Frankie again and the fact that Will had a lot of confidence that you were going to be perfect for the job. Despite never having watched a professional fight let alone photographed one terrified you. 

  Blood made you squeamish and the thought of possibly witnessing any broken bones had you sweating through your shirt. 

  You’re early again but Will was impressed by that. The fight is being hosted at a much larger gym so you wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost on the way. Giving yourself a once over before hopping out of your car with your tote and Andy in tow. 

  Heels didn’t seem appropriate for a fight so you went for a casual look of jeans and some thrifted tee shirt from ages ago that had Mike Tyson on the front. 

  Going anywhere alone always gives you anxiety but you muster up the courage to head inside. The moment you step through the door it’s an assault on your senses. The unmistakable scent of stale sweat and cheap cologne greets you. There’s a lot of people already here crowding around the ring and taking their seats. The air vibrates with a hum of conversations, discussions of strategy and predictions. 

  There’s a clear divide of supportive colors, some people clad in red and other patrons in all black with Miller boxing on the back of their shirts. 

  You’re thankful no one seems to notice you as you mill about searching for that one familiar face you’re hoping is here like he said he would be. 

  You’re taken aback by a promo poster of Ben along the wall. The image of the tall blonde flexing with his arms raised, looking proud as a peacock was definitely a photo you took the other day. Whoever designed the poster did an amazing job at not taking away the raw charm of the original photo. 

  “Admiring your work.” Will steps up next to you, arms crossed as he stares proudly at the photo. 

  “This poster looks pretty good for such a quick turn around.” You told him with a genuine smile. 

  He shrugs his shoulders. “I dabble here and there with photoshop.” 

  He notices you glancing around him, a small smirk gracing his features. “Looking for someone?”

  This isn’t the first time you notice how obnoxiously intuitive he is. “No, just taking in the scenery.” It’s a lie he'll let you get away with for now. 

  “I’m actually glad you’re early, if you don’t mind snapping some shots of Ben in the locker room.” He gestures towards the large double doors across the room. 

  You have to laugh at him. “I don’t mind doing my job, Will. It’s what you hired me for right?” 

  He starts walking and you follow close behind. “Sorry, I’m used to giving orders to men and asking for permission from women.” 

  “Will, please don’t ever apologize for that.” You add before he opens the door stepping aside to usher you in. His presence is so reassuring, it’s dizzying being around men that actually make you feel safe for the first time since you left home. 

  Will whistles and it echoes off the walls in the locker room. Ben glances up from his hands being taped and shoots you a nervous smile. You can tell his attitude is in fight mode, his adrenaline no doubt focused on his opponent. The bouncing, jovial man from the other day is subdued, concentrating on the task in front of him. 

  Your hands instinctively reach for your camera  to capture the pre-fight moments. There’s a woman taping his hands with red hair and strikingly beautiful green eyes. She doesn’t seem to mind as you close in on their space to get a shot of her intricate tape. Ben’s hands shake slightly but he does his best to hold them still. 

  He’s clad in all black shorts and shrugs off the Miller boxing shirt when she’s done taping. He can’t help himself as he turns to you and flexes. 

  “I think this is your signature pose.” You say as he turns to his brother, sending him a look of  ‘I told you so’. 

  “Don’t encourage him.” The woman adds as Will slides up next to her planting a kiss on her cheek. 

  “I think you both forgot why she’s here.” Ben gestures to you. “Yours truly is the main event.” 

  “I don’t know how the other guys gonna fit in the ring with Ben and his ego.” Will and the woman laugh as Ben looks less than amused and you snap a photo, candids being your favorite. 

  “I’m sorry, excuse my manners.” His hand placed gently along her lower back as he ushered her towards you. “This is my wife Amber.” 

  She raises her eyebrows at him as you offer your name and you look slightly confused as Ben scoffs. “I’m his fiancé, but I should be flattered at how eager he is to be my husband.” 

  “Wife has a better ring to it.” He leans in kissing her again and Ben just groans. 

  “They’re like this all the time. It’s obnoxious.” He says with mock disgust. 

  You snap another photo of the intimate moment, since they didn’t protest the first. I think it’s beautiful. 

  ****

  Still no sign of him

  But you can’t think about that right now as Benny prepares to enter the ring. The bright lights surrounding the room and the raucous noise is starting to get to you but you take a few deep breaths and hope you can hold out. 

  Amber and Will are preoccupied on the sideline, hyping Benny up as he sized up his opponent. Who somehow seems two times the size of the young blonde. Something tells you not to underestimate him as the stone cold look washes over his features, making anyone who stands in his path sorely regret it. 

  The crowd roars as the bell signals the start of the fight. Your camera poised and ready with your nerves and excitement swirling in equal measure. If you thought Ben sparring the other day was bad, you were wildly unprepared for the sound of the first blow to his opponent’s face. You wince behind your camera flash as the distinct grunt of a possible broken nose is evident. Ben takes a wide shot to the ribs but he doesn’t falter. Blow after blow and it seems you’re getting more comfortable with the onslaught of violence for some odd reason. 

  Perhaps it’s the way Benny has handled each one or the fact that you’re finally getting the shots you so desperately wanted the other day. He’s actually focused on what’s in front of him and not on you. You can drown out the rest of the noise besides Will's coaching and Ambers cheers of encouragement. The shutter of Andy is all you need. 

  “Sweetheart, you should take my picture.” 

  You recoil at the sweaty palm on your lower back and the pungent smell of cheap liquor invading your senses. It’s no surprise when you turn to see a random man, bloodshot eyes from too many long nights and too much booze. You already knew by the sound of his voice that it wasn’t who you’ve been expecting. 

  “No thanks.” You gesture to your camera. “I’m sort of working here.” 

  You continue to try and focus back on the fight as it seems Benny has him on the ropes and it’s not too long before the other man is going down. 

  He’s closer now, caging you against the ring as his hand threatens to move lower and everyone is too preoccupied to notice that you want to crawl out of your skin. 

  “Come on hun, you don’t have to be bitch.” The last part he practically spits at you and with his opponent keeled over momentarily Benny’s eyes flash to you like a caged animal. 

  You think for a brief moment he might jump over the ropes but he flashes you a wide grin and continues to back up as the ref gestures his hands for the countdown. 

  The pressure is suddenly off you and you feel like you can breathe again, as you whip around to see where he went. “You know you shouldn’t touch women without their permission.” Frankie’s large palm is gripping the man’s shirt as he struggles to get out of his grasp. 

  “Get the fuck off me Morales, I know you’re not gonna hit me.” Frankie's eyes flash to you briefly in worry, a signal that he knows this creep and doesn’t want to be associated with him. 

  Frankie drags him by the collar just out of earshot as he sees you turn back to the fight so as not to miss any important shots. 

  “Listen up Jones.” He grits out through clenched teeth. “You’re gonna get yourself in some real trouble one of these days.”

  “Hey, Morales I didn’t know she was your lady okay.” 

  “She’s not…” He lets out a sigh of frustration. “Just quit fucking around, I can tell you’ve been drinking again. If I don’t see you at a meeting this week I’m gonna throw you into the ring with Ben and see if he can knock some sense into you. Comprende?” 

  He releases him with force as he shrugs his shoulders, trying to smooth out his shirt. “Ya ya, you’ll see me.” 

  Frankie watches the man disappear into the crowd toward the direction of the bar and just shakes his head. You’re still there as the ref signals that Benny won the fight and he shoves his way back through to you on the sideline. 

  There’s a look of relief and something else on your face when you turn to him. 

  “Benny won!” You flash him a bright smile as he laughs to himself. 

  “He always does.” It’s said assuredly and proud as you turn back to the ring. His arms lean protectively on the ropes beside you, careful not to touch you but close enough where no one would try to push you out of the way. 

  You glance down at the monitor to take a deep breath as you feel him behind you. His woodsy cologne mixed with the fresh body wash wafts towards you. That mixed with the fact that he was so instantly protective of you has your head spinning. 

  Trying desperately to focus back on your job you realize the last shot Benny’s slightly blocked by the ropes. You let out a huff of frustration as Frankie leans down close to your ear. 

  “Everything okay hermosa? Is it Andy?��� No it’s you

  You close your eyes as you let the deep lull of his voice calm you. The voice you’d waited hours to hear. The one you couldn’t stop thinking about since that first day. 

  “Ya everything is fine.” You laugh to yourself at his genuine concern for your most prized possession. “I just can’t see very well.” 

  He worries his lip hoping he’s not overstepping after your encounter earlier. “I have an idea.” 

  Intrigued, you turn to him as he gestures to the side of the ring. “Step up.” You tilt your head at him and he raises his eyebrows and points to the ledge. 

  “Frankie.” 

  “I promise I won’t let you fall.” You falter for a brief moment, but the crowd cheers as Benny runs around the ring and you can’t waste another shot. 

  He steps up behind you, careful not to touch until you’re ready as you take one hand and hoist yourself up with the rope. Your other hand is securely on your camera. You think you’re fine but the rope gives a little and you start to fall back but the breadth of his shoulders is right behind you as he instructs you to lean on him. 

  Your heart is going to pound out of your chest as you realize how intimately he has you wrapped up. His arms around your thighs hold you steady and yet you can tell he’s doing it with the utmost composure to make you feel comfortable. 

  Benny runs over to you, flexing his arms with his signature pose, coined by you. Your hands still aren’t moving and Frankie nudges you slightly. 

  “I’ve got you.” You sure hope he does for your sake. The way he’s looking at you and holding you right now, you don’t think you’d be able to stand up on your own. 

  You turn back to Benny and snap a few shots of his winning smile. 

  “Fuck me, the flash is on.” You make a few adjustments and disable the automatic flash. The bright lights surrounding the ring provide plenty of light amongst the room. 

  Frankie has to take a few deep breaths, especially when your choice of words has him thinking things he shouldn’t with your body as close to his as it could get. He’s trying to be professional, he did suggest this after all and it would be rude to take advantage of the situation. 

  He can tell you’re relaxing as you go back and forth between glancing at the screen and Benny. Your ass is perched  perfectly along his shoulder as his arms protectively bracket your legs to keep you upright against the ropes. He can smell vanilla and something familiar, even through your jeans which he’s grateful for, if not for them his cheek would be touching the smooth skin on your thigh. 

  The crowd starts to disperse as Will and Amber join Benny in the ring. Benny playfully jumps on his older brother as he shrugs his sweaty body off of him. Despite you not taking any more pictures Frankie still has you wrapped as they come over to join you. Amber sends you a knowing look and your face grows hot as you halfway pretend to look over photos. 

  “So…how did it turn out?” Ben bounds over with a gleam in his eye. Adorned with a few scrapes and bruises but otherwise untouched. 

  He leans on the ropes as you hold out the camera flicking through a few of your favorite shots. His arm draped over you and the sweat and adrenaline is rolling off him. You can’t be too upset, the man just single handedly pummeled his opponent like it was just another day. Frankie swats him playfully to save you from the post fight stench about to seep through your tee shirt. 

  “Sorry, he doesn’t really know what personal space is.” You glance down to Frankie and realize how ironic that statement is coming from the man who's been the closest to you physically in over a year. 

  “Oh shit, she got a perfect shot of me crushing his nose.” Ben jumps up and down as Will sends you a half apologetic look. 

  You’re slightly knocked off kilter as Frankie tightens his grip on you. 

  You look over to see another handsome dark haired man pulling himself up to the ropes next to you. 

  “Who might you be?” His aquiline smile and toned muscles rippled through his shirt as he grips the rope. You recognize him from the photo on the desk but opt to stay silent. Assessment was your strong suit and he seems like the type that likes a challenge. 

  Amber looks like she’s going to say something but doesn’t get the chance as you’re quite literally swept off your feet. Your grip on Frankie’s arm tightens as he pulls you away from the ropes and the sickeningly sweet man beside you. 

  “Relax hermosa, I’ve got you.” He gently sets you down and grabs your hand, pulling you even further from the prying eyes as you try to catch your breath. 

  ****

  Santiago points at you and Frankie as he shrugs his shoulders. Indignation dripping off his features. 

  “Oh, I know he’s frustrated when he’s gone non verbal” Ben teases as he ruffles Santi’s hair. 

  Will sidles up next to his fiancé, wrapping his arms around her as he leans in. 

  “You’re staring at her like a piece of meat babe.” 

  “Sorry.” She hisses under her breath. “It’s just…she would be perfect for the wedding.” 

  “I know, but why don’t we give her some space. Let her get settled in.” He nods his head toward the two of you. “Also maybe give Frankie a chance to ask her out before you ask her to photograph the wedding. It would be awkward if she said no to him.” 

  “How do you know he’s asking her out?” 

  Will lowers his voice as Santiago raises an eyebrow at him, doing his best to pay attention to Ben and eavesdrop. 

  “Look at his stance, he can’t stop moving from one foot to another.”

  “He’s taken his hat off twice.” 

  “Now his hands are in his pockets, and I can almost guarantee he’s sweating.” 

  ****

  You’re not sure what to do as he stares at you. His scent envelopes you even now that you’re apart. 

  Frankie clears his throat awkwardly as he bounces from one foot to another. He’s nervous and you’re not entirely sure why, seeing as though you’d spent the better part of the fight attached to his shoulder. 

  “I ugh…hope this wasn’t too traumatizing for you.” 

  You laugh as you dip your head. “It was definitely eventful. But you made it a lot easier to handle.” 

  He tries to hide his smile as the red creeps up his neck. His obvious nervous tick as he takes off his hat for the second time, running his fingers through his hair. You have the sudden wild urge to do it yourself as you busy your hands with the hem of your shirt. 

  “We usually go out for drinks after his fights to celebrate.” He leaves it open ended as he watches you visibly tense. 

  Shit 

  Shit

  “It’s been a really long day.” Not entirely a lie. 

  You can see his demeanor go from nervous wreck to utter panic and you can’t leave him out on a limb. 

  “Listen Frankie, I have to be honest with you. I don’t drink. I’m not a buzzkill or anything but…”

  “I’m sober.” He doesn’t mean to shout it at you but it comes out all rushed and now he can feel the sweat dripping down his back. “If that changes anything, if not I understand.” Frankie feels like he’s scrambling and realizing how much easier this was when he wasn’t sober. 

  You let out a sigh of relief as you glance to your right at the small audience huddled around the ring. Santiago quickly turns around while Amber and Will do an awful job of seeming interested in the ceiling. Benny flashing you a thumbs up as you chuckle to yourself. 

  “I would love to join you guys, another night maybe. I think I’ve had enough action for one day.” You hope the open ended invitation isn’t completely shutting you off from any chance with Frankie. 

  Every nerve ending in his body is screaming at him to stop but you do something to him that he hasn’t felt in a long time. That small subconscious part of his brain knows if he leaves it like this he may never work up the nerve to say something. 

  “Would you be up for dinner? Maybe sometime next week?” His voice cracks a little at the end like he’s some kind of pubescent boy. If the floor could swallow him whole or Benny could come over and just put him completely out of his misery that might suffice for the next few weeks. 

  You bite your lip, consciously or unconsciously. He doesn’t care either way. Some wild part of his brain wants to reach out and pull it down with the pad of his thumb. 

  “I would love to go to dinner.” 

  Relief floods his features and you have to fight the grin that crosses over your face. 

  “So it’s a date.” 

  Fuck a date. 

  You haven’t been on one of those in ages. 

  “Ya Frankie, it’s a date.” 

  He’s finally stopped fidgeting and he seems so much more confident now that you can really appreciate him. 

  You're both in your own little bubble of flirtation and you could care less who or what’s going on around you. 

  “Would it be okay if I hugged you?” 

  You smile. “I think after how close we were for the last hour it would be weird if you didn’t.” 

  His arms wrap around you instantly and that familiar scent is becoming so comforting for you. You have to fight the urge to deeply inhale as your nose is pressed against his chest. His touch is so delicate and grounding all at once and you fear you’ll grow to associate him with someone safe. 

  Why would that be a bad thing?

  The last time Frankie was this impulsive he got himself into a lot of trouble. This doesn’t quite feel the same as he tries not to inhale the scent of your shampoo as his cheek rests on the crown of your head. The way your body molds perfectly into his. The way he has to gain some level of composure when it comes to you and yet all reason has gone out the window. 

  It’s dizzying when you finally break apart. Your shoulder bag slipped slightly down and he reached over to secure it for you. 

  “Well, I should say bye to everyone.” 

  “I’ll do it on your behalf if you want to make a break for it.” He winks at you and your knees might give out right then and there. 

  Letting out an exasperated sigh. “You’re a lifesaver Francisco.” 

  You wave goodbye to more than a few confused faces and exit the gym to a mostly empty parking lot, inhaling the fresh night air. 

  ****

  “Did she let you down easy?” Benny teases as his brother smacks him on the back. 

  “Yee of little faith gentleman.” Amber says as she directs her attention to Frankie. 

  “As a matter of fact, we’re going on a date next weekend.” 

  Amber squeals and Benny pats his friend in the back as Santiago looks thoroughly annoyed at still being left in the dark. 

  Will's phone pings in his pocket and he pulls it out, the widest shit eating grin plastered on his face. 

  “Our boy is a little rusty.” 

  All heads turn to Will confusion written among their faces. 

  “You’re gonna need her number if you’re gonna take her on a date, Fish.” 

  Okay, so maybe he was a little rusty but he had a date. With you. 

  “Alright boys…and Amber. Let’s get some drinks to celebrate.” Benny jumps over the ropes like it’s nothing and heads toward the locker rooms as the rest of the men follow. 

  “Is someone gonna tell me who she is!?” Santiago yells out to them as they all leave him seemingly in the dark. 

  At least for now, Frankie’s gonna keep you to himself. 

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[alltheirdamn]

ok so soo… idk why, whyyyy ma’am, but your cowboy!joels fics and cowboy!joel himself……. have me in a fucking chokehold.. metephorically and in a kinky way too.. hehe. but ok. so hear me out… 🤠 but also, i know you’re having some health issues rn so put this on the back burner and take care of yourself first love, but i think you could execute this idea… perfectly.. 🫦

this could be a one shot or maybe even a short series, dunno but i feel like you and i…. we 👉🏼😮‍💨 ~~~~~~ 😮‍💨👈🏼 we understand each other and we are both thirsty sluts for our man joel here. so here my pitch:

i’ve been seeing these like rodeo cowboy videos all over my fyp (https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8dSPGLp/ ) on tik tok and ya know, cuz cowboy!joel is living in my frontal lobe right now rent free, i was like … damn, if that was joel doin this or on a bucking bronco at readers like state or county fair and then like sees reader in the crowd eyein him as he’s getting himself or his horse or whatever ready… and she’s eye fucking him… with his sexy fuckin get up they all wear with the cowboy hat and everythin… and he makes eyes with the reader and maybe tips his hat and gives her a small wink. then she like looks away a bit embarrassed and starts talking to a guy sitting next to her, let’s just say is her brother or close guy friend and that makes joel jealous as he thinks he has competition, and maybe before his event or turn he comes and introduces himself and lowkey flirts with reader a little because now up close he can see her fully and she’s got this sexy floral sundress on with her cowgirl boots and cute cowgirl hat on looking like a damn meal that he wants to devour. but he’s also just a tad bit soft as when she shakes his hand he pulls it up to kiss her knuckles and compliments how pretty she is that instead of the horse knocking him out of orbit, the reader is (or something corny like that, ya know?) and they banter back and forth a bit as the reader thinks he’s a bit cocky but sweet and likes how easy it is to talk to him, but is lowkey ready to ride that cowboy if you know what i mean… and he knows it too by the way she keeps looking down at how tight his jeans hug his pelvis and show a faint outline of him, but when he catches her, she says she was admiring his belt buckle, and to kind of stir the pot and challenge her a little bit he says something like, “how ‘bout if i win m’self first place here when it’s my turn, sweetheart, you can remove this buckle yourself and replace it with the prize winnin’ one after i take you out for dinner” and she is lowkey turned TF on by what we ALL know he means by that, but likes how he presented it and has been good to banter with her, so she says something like “only if you win first. i don’t think they give belt buckles as participation trophies” just to be a brat or something like that. HOWEVER!!!! little does she know he’s like KNOWN for his talent, as he’s like a national champion or something and winning first will be simple for him… 😏🥵😮‍💨 so like… he’s gon get that belt buckle and maybe when he finally has his turn they announce him like “next up we have Joel Miller, who just won himself the National Championship last season, let’s see if he can defend his title here tonight.” and her face goes red and he watches her as they announce him and after the announcement is done he tips his hat, winks and mouths to her something like ‘let’s go, first place, baby’ or something to make us FOAM at the mouth with how fucking sexy he would be in this moment and then yeah… i’m sure you can go from there 😮‍💨

psssttt… you… yeah YOU!!!!! get out of my HEAD!!!!! because i was LITERALLY TALKING ABOUT A RODEO!JOEL IDEA LAST WEEK WITH A COUPLE PEOPLE 👀👀👀👀

this is a BEAUTIFUL set up for a fic and you best believe i am pocketing this idea & going to absolutely give this a home on page 💛 pls stay tuned for this because it will be HAPPENING!!!!!

also, for funsies… rotten cowboy!joel was a bull rider in his hayday and has his own lil collection of belt buckles… which may be included in the next one shot 👀 enjoy this lil snippet for your pleasure xoxo

**

joel slipped the warm leather belt around your neck, the large brass belt buckle cool against your skin. it was his prize from a rodeo back when he did bull riding as a twenty something year old boy. it was his most prized possession, and now you wore it like a choker. his fingers tightened the buckle until it was secure, the stretch of it across your throat unforgiving and suffocating. he gave it one last tug, and you restrained yourself from clawing at the burning sting of the leather digging into your neck.

“ain’t you just the prettiest lil’ thing,” he cooed.

your vision was already hazy around the corners, a vignette lens of the room around you as it warped at the edges of your sight. you tried speaking, but the words croaked from your lips, the syllables dying on your tongue and drying out before you could even make another sound.

“this lil’ necklace is doin’ a real nice job of keepin’ you quiet. lets keep it that way, darlin’. not a fuckin’ sound for me, ‘kay? don’t wanna hear your sweet voice right now.”

**

anyway omg??? running to find pic inspo and make this idea HAPPEN!!!!! thank you nonie xoxo ilysm 💛