#she is one of those ocs that just hop around in my head and make a whole mess up there

[camzi-p]

These are the same oc

[sunlightmurdock]

Ashes, Ashes | Two | Bradley Bradshaw

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Synopsis: In which Maverick didn’t make it home after the Uranium mission. He’s missing, presumed dead. There are things that have to be done — someone has to take care of the house, the bills.

So, Maverick’s daughter is back in Fightertown for the first time since she was in elementary school. There’s a gaping hole in both of their lives now, and somehow, the world’s supposed to just keep on turning without him.

warnings: bradley bradshaw x minimally descriptive oc avery mitchell. age gap (23/33), smut, angst, hurt / comfort, mentions of character death, mourning, military inaccuracies. This entire fic and my blog is an 18+ space, minors do not interact. Do not repost.

…

Bradley rents a bungalow about twenty minutes from base, towards the south of the San Diego bay. He explains, on the drive there, while she is hugging an overnight bag of her things, that he’s been renting it from this sweet old lady for the past four years — but he’s only been living in it for about three quarters of that time, with deployments.

He talks a lot. Shooting halfway amused looks across at him every now and again as he talks over his music, explaining his entire rental history, Avery just lets him go on and on.

Maybe he’s worried that the silence will give her room to start tearing up again, but she knows that won’t happen — it was already a rare occurrence, just the once. 

She lets him talk. He doesn’t seem to mind how much attention she’s paying either. Anything other than silence is fine, even if he’s the only one filling it.

The respite comes when he parks in the driveway, hops out, and proudly displays the home to her. It’s white all over and covered in plants, all up the driveway and over the porch. There’s a surfboard sitting on the porch, waxed up and looking ready to go.

Inside is masculine and simple, and spotless. It looks more lived in than Maverick’s place, but in an exceptionally organised way. 

Just past the front door, he has an organised entryway with a closet and one of those shoe racks that looks like an end table. 

Beyond that, his living area is all open plan. His kitchen is to the left right as you walk in, and the living room is the clear focus. He’s got a big grey sectional pointed at a big tv with a stack of video games beside it.

He doesn’t ask her to take her shoes off by the door, but she copies politely when he kicks his off. 

That leaves her, blue and white tube socks, toeing against the chewed up corner of the area rug while he busies himself with fixing the few things he deems to be out of place. 

Itching to keep moving, she prods at the fabric, examining the teeth marks, wondering where the dog must be.

“Oh— that was my ex-girlfriend’s dog. I’ve been meaning to buy a new rug.” He explains, furrowing his brows at the spot as he tosses a throw pillow down onto his soft looking grey couch. “Um — so, I do have a guest room, but it’s kind of a gym right now. You can just make yourself at home, and I’ll go get everything out of your way.”

“I can take the couch.”

“No, no, you deserve some privacy at least. I’ll just be a sec — I have sodas and beers in the fridge, glasses are in the cabinet to the right. Help yourself.” He’s a good host, and a better one than she had been yesterday, considering that Maverick’s place is now technically her own.

As he heads for the long, stretching hallway, she shoots a look back down at the mauled rug. With how spotless the rest of this place is, he must have really liked that girl to let her bring her dog here, and to let it chew up his stuff.

She wonders, aimlessly, if he was mad about it. If they argued. If they broke up long ago.

Avery hasn’t had too many relationships of her own. Some mediocre sex and a couple of couch-based movie dates here and there, nothing to write home about. 

She sits cautiously, sinking into the pillowy cushion of the couch, taking the time finally to really look around her. The space is bright, with big windows all around and a view of the bay. There’s a sun catcher dancing from the curtain rod, casting rainbows across his wooden floors.

Maybe his ex had bought that, too.

The bungalow is small, but it fits all of his belongings with an abundance of space left. Avery thinks back to her father’s place, always cluttered and spilling over with junk, treasure from his years of travels.

Maybe Bradley is a little bit less sentimental about keeping things.

He rattles around in the room at the end of the hall for a while, huffing occasionally. While waiting on the couch, she considers getting up and offering to help a few times, but ultimately convinces herself against it.

“Alright! Fresh sheets and some space to move, there’s still a bunch of stuff in there but I tried to get it out of your way.” He comes strolling back down the hallway and drops down onto the couch at her side, letting out a heavy sigh.

She screws her mouth up a little, looking across at him while he rests his eyes, long, dark eyelashes brushing his warm cheeks. His long legs, covered by worn denim, stretch out far enough that he has to bend them around his coffee table.

When one hand comes up to card through his mussed curls, she catches sight of the tattoo inked across the expanse of his bicep. LXXXVI. ‘86. She starts to think on it, letting him enjoy his moment of peace, when he shifts and startles her enough to drag her eyes away from his flexing arm.

“Thanks, for everything,” Avery manages to still sound a little cautious in her tone, even when she’s rushing to speak. “Staying last night, driving me around today, letting me stay with you. I really appreciate it.”

He smiles without opening his eyes, reaching out and letting his hand pat skim across the seam of her jeans, patting at her knee platonically.

“Any time.” He breezes, cool. 

The first night is uneventful. Avery sleeps restlessly on the futon in Bradley’s spare bedroom, turned home gym. 

She pretends that she doesn’t see the numbers on the sides of the weights, and pretends also that she doesn’t give a little bit of her imagination to the way that tattoo must move when he lifts them.

When she wakes up, Bradley is gone and there is a note on the kitchen counter explaining that he went for a run. He was gone for two hours, trying to run far enough that the sick, hot, thudding feeling in his chest would stop.

Back at the house, Natasha stops by and spends the afternoon. She lets herself into the place with her key, which sits on her own keychain like she’s had it for a while. Watching a sitcom from the armchair while they sit beside each other on the couch, Avery notices that the two of them are very close.

She wonders if Natasha happens to have a dog.

Sleep doesn’t come any easier for either one of them the second night. When he finally catches sight of the red, flashing declaration on his alarm clock that it is now 2:01am, Bradley gives up.

He tries to be quiet as he’s getting up, careful not to wake Avery. They’re in much closer quarters in his place than they had been back at Maverick’s house, her door is right opposite his across the narrow hallway.

He pads down the hallway, rubbing at his eyes, tossing up whether he’s going to try to drink something warm and go back to bed, or if he’s just going to stay up. He can’t keep not sleeping.

He almost heads straight for the kitchen, freezing in his tracks as he finally takes note of the blue light coming from his living room, and the sound of women’s voices. It takes him a second, even though he’d been being so considerate on her behalf, to remember that he has a guest over.

“Ave?” He mumbles. 

The TV immediately falls silent. She winces from her spot on the couch, craning her neck to try to see him at the edge of the hallway.

“Just me. I’m sorry! Did I wake you?” She sounds worried. He’s still half asleep. 

He shakes his head as he steps out from the shadows and heads for his kitchen. “No, I just wasn’t expecting you to be up. I couldn’t sleep.”

He passes by pretty quickly, concealed behind the kitchen island in just a few steps. Still, she saw him. Illuminated only by the light of the television, wearing a tight pair of black boxer briefs and dog tags around a silver chain. Long, muscled legs and tapered hips. 

Sure, he was good looking before, and clearly fit — but she wasn’t expecting what had been under those slightly loose t-shirts.

Her mouth is dry as she mumbles out a soft, “Me either.”

“D’you want a tea?” He stands with her back to her now, reaching around in the darkness of his kitchen. She stares, unblinking, at his back.

“You drink tea?”

“Sometimes,” He cranes his neck to look at her over his shoulder. “That’s not weird.”

Her lips almost quirk, and she gives him a confirming shake of her head. “I didn’t say it was. Do you have green tea?”

He scoffs without looking. “Of course I have green tea.”

This whole lack of sleep thing isn’t new to him. It comes with the grief, but it’s there even when he feels like he isn’t grieving anymore. Since he was a kid, Bradley has had thoughts that keep him up at night, thoughts bad enough to stir him from peaceful, pleasant dreams.

He’s tried every tea in the catalog.

He carries the two mugs across the living room without once noticing the way he’s been stared at. He sets hers down on a cute little wicker coaster on his coffee table, walking past and dropping down onto the corner of the sectional.

His legs stretch out and he shifts and twists until he finds himself comfortable. “What’s this?”

She sets her gaze steadily on the television, her hands in her lap, wondering if he’s this brash with all of his house guests. With a swallow, she shrugs her shoulders. “Oh, it’s just this TV show about a columnist in New York in the nine—“

“Are you explaining Sex and the City to me?” Bradley sounds bewildered, his face stark as he stares at her across the couch. Avery’s lips tug at a smile, and she almost forget the nerves she’d been feeling.

Until, the light from the television catches on the silver of his dogtags. Her gaze drops, like a flicker, to his bare, toned chest — and she swiftly looks back to the television.

“You’ve seen it?” She asks softly.

He’s beyond good looking. He’d always been okay looking, he’d had a nice smile in all of those pictures she had seen. But now, the roundness of his cheeks is gone and he has grown into his nose, his lips are a shade of pink that would be a bestseller in cosmetics. 

Avery curses herself; she had been pretty successfully pretending not to notice that he had gotten good looking. Then, he comes strolling down that hallway and making her tea from his apparently extensive collection, having the nerve to sprawl across his own couch looking like that. 

Across from a girl who hasn’t seen any action in the better part of a year too. 

She almost scowls. 

“Every episode,” He answers gleefully. At first, she thinks of Natasha or that mysterious girlfriend with the badly behaved dog. Then, he adds, “This was my mom’s favourite TV show, ever.”

And suddenly, she feels a little guilty for acting like those muscles make him some kind of ladies’ man. Just because the rest of them have been, she guesses. 

Bradley seems like a nice guy. He slept in a bed clearly meant for a child all night last night, and he let her take the first shower this morning, he chased her across the parking lot and offered to fix all of her problems in one fell swoop. 

Maybe that’s because of some kind of debt he thinks he owes to Pete, and maybe it’s just because that’s the kind of man he is.

She glances across, watching him chuckle at a classic Samantha one-liner and take a sip of a raspberry herbal tea. Wrinkling her nose, she settles back down into the spot she had been relaxing in, and lets herself zone out again. 

They watch a couple of episodes. Unlike earlier, Bradley doesn’t feel the need to talk. He likes the quiet, mixed with their frequent chuckles. It’s an okay thing, to not have to fill that silent void. 

Avery is the first to excuse herself to go back to bed, and she hasn’t once mentioned his little Calvin Kleins or the way they make his thighs look. 

As she walks away, Bradley catches himself. He hadn’t much thought about what she might wear to bed, or what she’d been wearing when he first sat down with her. Her hips wiggle in her stride, her fitted pyjama shorts hugging her ass as she heads for the guest room. 

The material of her loose t-shirt is tucked in at the back. Those cotton shorts hug her hips and show off just the tiniest glimpse of her round ass, from where they have ridden up a little.

He looks away before she’s even out of view, but it doesn’t change what he had been thinking. She’s Pete’s kid, for gods’ sakes. Not much of a kid anymore, but still, it wouldn’t be right.

Man, Maverick would hate it, too. 

Bradley wishes, silently, that he was here to scold him. Pete would square his shoulders and get that rare and serious look on his face, warning Bradley to keep his hands to himself. And Bradley would smile and taunt him, saying, “Don’t worry, Mav, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

With her dad gone, it just makes it worse.

These next few weeks are going to be hard, and the least he could do is think with his head to keep things simple between the two of them. He heads back to bed late enough for it to almost not be worth it. 

He wakes to the sound of chaos over the comms, that same last conversation, those snowy peaks behind his eyelids. 

Mouth dry, heart thudding, his eyes are still shut when he stumbles out into the hall and twists the bathroom door handle. It jams, and he remembers. The sounds of water coming from behind the door stops abruptly.

Peeking her head around the shower curtain, already wincing, Avery calls back out to him. “Sorry! I’ll just be a second!”

“No — sorry, take as long as you want.” He calls back, shaking his head and heading for the kitchen. Restless and anxious, he splashes cold water across his face and thinks about Pete.

He saw Mav do this insurmountable times. He remembers all of the mornings that Mav would wake up gasping, shaking, and he would head straight for the bathroom, bolting the door. He’d come back out okay again. He wonders if Mav still did it, even all these years later.

If he still heard Goose’s voice through the comms, calling him out of his dreams. 

The thought makes him shudder. The bathroom door unlocking makes him flinch, looking up sharply. 

Avery steps out of the bathroom, her hair still dry and tied back, droplets of water still beading along the skin and flowing under the plush blue towel she had taken from the linen closet. He had told her to help herself, but he’s staring at her now and she’s second guessing herself.

He stands at his kitchen sink, his hands braced against the countertop, his knuckles white. She barely even notices his little Calvin Kleins. Her brows knit together as she takes a step toward him, barely visible around the corner.

“Hey… are you okay?” Her face creases with concern, lingering in the hallway so that he can see her just enough.

He remembers to let go of the countertop.

“Yeah,” He breathes out, unconvincingly, reaching up and shaking a hand through his tangled curls. He takes a second, trying to gather his thoughts enough to keep the conversation moving. “Were you still thinking you’re gonna need a job while you’re here?”

She blinks, her scrunched up face relaxing as she takes another step closer, cocking her head at him.

“Um, yeah. I think so.”

He nods. “Get dressed. We’ll go see my friend in a bit, can see if it’s something you might be interested in. Maybe, then we’ll take your car to a mechanic this afternoon.” 

Out of the house, he feels like he can breathe again. It’s just sleeping, that’s all. When he’s really awake, he can control it all a little better, it doesn’t get to him as much.

He drives the same way he had yesterday. Three fingers around the bottom of the wheel, seventies music playing. Today, the windows are down. Avery makes a pretty good passenger — she doesn’t ask him to change his music and she doesn’t put her head in the way when he’s trying to check his mirrors.

Mainly because she isn’t once watching the road, but that’s okay. 

She looks around the city like she’s seeing it for the first time. Mav lived her for longer than she’s been alive — and the entire place seems foreign to her.

Bradley knows both of his parents’ hometowns like the back of his hand, and he still hasn’t ever lived in either one of them. 

“Did your dad ever tell you about Penny?” He asks so calmly, drumming his fingers along the wheel, Ray-Ban caravans sitting across the bridge of his nose.

The look that Avery shoots him gives him more than enough of an answer. She sets her phone down in her lap and studies him, frowning slightly.

“Who’s Penny?”

Shit. Bradley shakes his head and his voice pitches up a fraction. “Oh, she and Mav were just good friends for a long time.”

A product of one of Maverick’s ‘good friendships’ herself, Avery doesn’t need Bradley to explain to her what that means. It makes her a little less excited to get to wherever he’s taking her. 

With one quick glance across, he catches the little frown settling across her lips.

“She owns that bar on Breakers Beach. We drove past it yesterday when we saw Admiral Simpson?” Bradley prompts her, glancing across at the passenger seat. She nods along. “I texted her yesterday and she really wanted to meet you, said you can have some shifts there if you want them.”

Avery wrinkles her nose, trying not to frown across at him when he’s doing his best to just be helpful.

“What? — What’s that look?” He prompts, looking across at her with an amused smile toying at his lips. 

“She’s like a long time ago ex, right? She wasn’t dating Pete recently?” 

Bradley thinks on his answer for a moment. He isn’t surprised that she figured out there was something between Mav and Penny, he would have figured it out too.

But, he had heard of Mav’s experience with Penny Benjamin a long time before he had actually gotten to meet Penny Benjamin. Really, he’s surprised to find that Avery has never heard of her, she and Mav were really on and off for quite a while.

He guesses that Mav kept that kind of thing from her.

Which means that he would want Bradley to keep the fact that he had seen Mav and Penny leave the bar together three times in the weeks leading the mission to himself too.

“Yeah. Like a long time ago.” He confirms.

“Alright, okay — yeah, this’ll be good,” Avery sounds more like she’s giving herself a pep talk than like she’s replying to him. He shoots her a smile and a nod anyway. “Thanks, again, by the way. You’re cool for setting this all up.”

Cool. Not the kind of compliment he’s usually searching for from a pretty girl, but he’ll take it.

Reaching across the centre console, he gives her knee a quick squeeze. “Not so bad yourself, Mitchell.”

Briefly, his palm lingers there. It’s just because he’s focusing on turning into the parking lot, but it’s still his large palm hugging the curve of her knee for a minute longer than it should have.

Completely over the thick protection of her jeans, but she stares at the touch anyways. Then, she dares to look back up at him. Totally relaxed as he pulls into a spot up front like it’s his own personal one. 

One more squeeze, and he takes his hand back and swings open the door. The parking lot is surprisingly busy for the middle of the week at noon.

 Avery follows him out of the vehicle, gingerly matching his pace as he heads inside. It’s once he’s spotted that she falters. 

“Rooster!” Someone even taller than he is comes marching up right away and throws his arms around Bradley. Bradley hugs him loosely, greeting him with an aloof but firm pat of the back.

“Payback.” He greets quietly.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you. How are you holding up?” His warm eyes bore into Bradley, his head bowed slightly and his voice sincere. He hasn’t spotted her yet.

“I’m alright,” Bradley sounds convincing enough, but this Payback guy hadn’t seen how rattled Bradley had looked this morning. “This is Avery.” 

Finally, Payback’s gaze flickers to the girl standing behind Rooster. Halfway tucked behind his shoulder, staring at him through her lashes, looking totally lost and sheepish.

“Mav’s kid?”

In the short time Bradley has known her, he knows that’s not the kind of response she would have wanted to get.

Swinging his arm out and throwing the heavy limb around her shoulders, Payback watches Rooster drag the stunned girl out from behind him and present her at his side. “It’d pay you to learn your new bartender’s name, Fitch.”

He’s looking Avery right in the eye, and he already can see that Bradley’s going to have to be reminded that not everyone likes the heavy handed approach to affection he can have.

Still, he smiles at her like he means it and nods his head respectfully.

“Already got it, it’ll be good to have you around, Avery.” 

A small smile works its way across her lips, grateful if not anything else.

“Nice to meet you.” She answers him quietly, stiff against Bradley’s side. He pats her back and urges her forwards.

“Here, this is Penny. Penny, meet your new bartender.”

Penny Benjamin is tall and striking, standing behind the bar with her eyes already on the new bartender. There’s a recognition and affection in the blue of her gaze that tells Avery she was lied to just a moment ago.

That’s a woman who cared deeply for Pete Mitchell.

It puts a bad taste in her mouth, a pit in her stomach, a sudden coldness about the possibility of this job. Even if just for a short time, for however long she’s here, she’s just going to be an extension of the man she had always felt so far from.

Penny cocks her head to the side, just a bit. Sure, she can see semblances of Pete in the girl across from her, but it’s the rigid, flighty look in her eyes that catches Penny’s attention. 

Across from her is someone with something to prove, and a character they’ve been playing for a long time now. That’s what feels most familiar.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Avery says stiffly, trying to sound like she means it. 

Penny nods, smiling. She glances towards Bradley, then back to the girl still tucked under his arm.

“You too. Let’s talk.” 

As Jimmy takes over the bar duties, Bradley’s left with the prospect of facing his friends when Penny and Avery disappear toward the back deck.

He scratches at the back of his neck, shooting one last look at the two of them over his shoulder, and wondering what he’s supposed to say to all of those guys. 

One by one, he could manage… but all in a group like that? — He hasn’t seen most of them since it happened. 

It’s Natasha that he can trust to catch his eye first, giving him that kind of look cautious parents give their kids when coaching them on a bike. She worries a lot for someone who swears that she doesn’t care about the meatheads she hangs out with.

He heads for her as coolly as he can manage, hoping that the other guys know not to give him a hard time today. They don’t, they never would. 

His therapist says it’s a defensive thing, the way he waits for people to say the wrong thing. When he’s hurt, he expects it, almost. He’s trying to get out of it. 

They can all give him credit for that.

Even so, it doesn’t take long for conversation to fade from small talk to the newest, most exciting subject.

“So, she’s staying at your place?” Natasha’s the first one to bring up the missing party, picking up on a comment about the two of them arriving together.

Bradley shakes his head and fiddles with his root beer bottle. “No, she’ll be over at Mav’s place once we get her car fixed up. It’s a real piece of shit, I don’t even know what they’d do to make it run any better.”

“Mav loves cars — and he lets her drive a shitbox like that?” It’s Javy who scoffs that out, the only one still talking about the Captain who had taken a shine to him in present tense. 

Bradley just shrugs. This isn’t the place to unpack whatever went down between Mav and Avery. He doesn’t know enough, even if he wanted to talk about it.

“She came all the way down here by herself?” Callie asks. She doesn’t say it, but she’s referring to the fact that her mother came all the way out to Lemoore to try to move her into the barracks like it was college when she was that age. 

Bradley shrugs again. He hasn’t heard much about Avery’s mom in the past twenty years, he isn’t even sure that he ever met her — certainly wouldn’t be able to pick her out of a crowd. All he knows is the gossip he’d gotten from his mom when it was all going down. 

“How’s she doing?” Bob asks, his blue eyes deep and sincere as he searches Bradley’s face, knowing better than to ask the same question. 

“Okay, I think.” Bradley muses, thinking of how quickly Avery had questioned the recovery efforts yesterday. “I dunno how close they were, but it’s always gotta be hard. Just… trying to make it a little easier on her, I guess.” 

They all nod, slowly.

And then Avery comes marching back inside, her chin high and her hair a little wind-swept, making a beeline right for the closest thing she’s got to a friend in this town.

“Hey.” Bradley offers her a smile, and reaches out for her. His hand grazes the back of her bicep, and she smiles more genuinely than she has in the past two days.

“Hi.”

He catches sight of himself being watched, and takes a look back over Avery’s shoulder to find Penny looking. Her blue eyes flicker down to his hand on Avery’s arm. 

Pursing her lips, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, and Bradley’s mouth almost falls open. There’s no way she thinks that he’s hitting on Avery. He’s just being friendly.

Penny knows Bradley well enough to know that. He’s always been a very affectionate guy. Still, the look that she gives him is one that certainly, and silently, tells him to keep his hands to himself. 

He blinks, and finds his friends looking back at him expectantly. 

“So, you’re taking the job?” He checks, shaking off Penny’s watchful eyes and settling back into what he knows. Avery nods her head at him.

“Starting tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. That’s way soon. He’s going to have to make sure he doesn’t keep her up until four in the morning watching the misadventures of Carrie Bradshaw tonight. 

“Well, guys, say hi to your new bartender.” 

He brings the bottle of rootbeer back up to his lips and shoots a quick glance back over Avery’s shoulder. Penny stares back, unfazed, as he narrows his eyes back at her.

What does she know about anything, anyways?

…

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Jimmy Uso x Reader - Untitled

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Okay.. this is me working on my smut lol. If anyone has any pointers, let me know. ❤���

To Hubby 💍☝🏽: thank u for the flowers 💋❤️

From Hubby 💍☝🏽: U welcome beautiful. You gon be wearing that when i come back?

To: Hubby 💍☝🏽: Maybe 🤫

To Hubby 💍 ☝🏽 : miss you 😘

From Hubby 💍☝🏽: Fuck, im omw

“Oh shit,” Alani whined as Jon started hammering in and out of her wet pussy. He pushed one of her knees up to her chest and wrapped her other leg around his waist. The position allowed him to hit her sweet spot head on.”Jon, shit.” She moaned out, closing her eyes in ecstasy as he pounded into her.  He was showing her no mercy. She had teased him all night sending him dirty text messages and pictures. He had left the arena as soon as his match was over, telling his brothers and cousin that he wasn’t feeling well. 

“Nah , where you goin’?” He asked as she pushed on his lower stomach trying to push him away. He grabbed her hand and placed it above her head, holding it down to the bed. “This what you wanted right?” He asked, slowing his thrust and leaning down to press kisses on her neck. He picked his head up and slapped her thigh when she didn’t answer him. “You hear me talking to you” 

Alani let her eyes roll into the back of her head and moaned out ”Yes”. He was absolutely right, this was exactly what she wanted. She knew that he was already wound up and horny from being constantly interrupted all week and she had not been any help by sending him those pictures earlier. 

She gasped when he suddenly pulled out and flipped her on her stomach. “F-fuck” He stuttered once he pushed himself back inside of her. He placed one hand on the back of her neck pinning her down to the bed, his eyes glued to her ass as it ricocheted off of his stomach. 

“Mmhmm'' He groaned, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. “Just like that” Jon’s head pulled back in pleasure as Alani continued to throw her ass back on him. 

“You like that daddy?” She asked, feeling herself grow wetter at the sounds that he was making. 

“I fucking love it.” Jon moaned, feeling her pussy tighten around him. He quickly maneuvered them back into missionary position, knowing that she liked to look in his eyes when she came.  He had a wicked grin on his face as he watched her eyes become glazed over. 

“Yeah, you gonna cum on your dick?” Alani could only muster up a loud moan in response. She pulled him back down by the back of his neck and captured his lips with hers. Moaning into each other's mouth as her pussy started to spasm around his length.  Alani broke to kiss to let out a cry of his she came, her juices rushing out of her and soaking his pelvic area and the sheets below them. 

“Shit” He moaned out, his thrust faltering. She opened her eyes, licking her lips as they made eye contact. “Where you want it at baby?” Jon asked, watching and letting out a moan as she brought her hand to her pussy and started rubbing her clit. 

“Oh fuck, baby.” She moaned out feeling herself about to cum again. “I want you to cum in me.”

He looked at Alani with glossy eyes. “Fuck yeah,” he groaned out before pushing her legs up so her feet were almost touching the headboard, knees by her ears. 

“Shit, i’m bouta cum” Jon moaned out as he pounded into her. He let out a loud groan as he came inside her, hops stuttering as continued to thrust slowly into her, her pussy milking him of every last drop. He pulled out and collapsed on the bed next to her holding his hand up for a high five.  

Alani looked over at him. “You're so corny.” she rolled her eyes and slapped her hand against his. She rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow, trailing her fingers up and down his chest. 

“Only for you baby, only for you.”  He muttered, eyes closed as he puckered his lips from a kiss to which she happily obliged. 

“I love you.” She whispered against his lips. 

“I love you too.” 

🫣

tell me what y'all think. I have literally working on this for like 4 months. And it's still not perfect to me but.. enjoy & thank you for reading 🫶🏽

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@mzv11 @shantinextdoor @sheydnni @zillasvilla @thatone-girly

@xmonetsworld @paigereeder @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996

@alyyaanna @li-da-savage @kill-the-artiste @wrestlingprincess80 @that-one-anxious-mango

@mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @trashbin-nie @adoreesun @meggylynnloves @shayaaaaaaa

@bebesobrielo @bookuce

[candied-boys]

📻Country Radio Themed Prompt List🐎

Y'all, it's rodeo season and I'm havin' a hot cowgirl summer!

I know there are at least a few of us out here who love a little small town, texas two-step, roll in the hay, tailgate party, coffee with a sunrise, dusty boots and sundresses kinda slow life. I know I can't stop putting my favs in situations whenever I listen to country music and I hope y'all hop on the bandwagon and join me for my first creation challenge!

So round up your fav cowboys and giddy up, gurl! We ride 'til the end of September! Radio playlists below👇

FAQ:

Can I submit something I already created if it fits the vibe?

HELL YEAH! Old content that fits the theme in anyway and new creations are all welcome! (Honestly even if it doesn't fit any of the prompts, I'll take any country content I can get so please reblog your works and tag me!)

How can I write for the country genre if I'm not familiar with it?

Don't sweat it! If you vibe with anything here that's more than enough! I tried to pick lyrics with a variety of themes - family, love, coming of age, angst, bad boys/girls etc. They all centre around a sense of connection and relationships - universally human themes.

We're all here playing games that locate the characters inside cultures outside of Japan and we're here writing for cultures outside our own when writing for these games, so don't be shy! Just let yourself have fun.

What should I do with lyrics?

Use the prompts however you like; Any and all types of content submissions are welcome — writing, drabbles, head canons, drawing, mood boards, playlists, whatever makes you say, "Hell yeah!"

Examples: You could use the lyrics directly as quotes, indirectly as the premise for the art. Anything! You could incorporate the lyrics from the rest of the song. There are a ton of great lines/ideas in the rest of each song. You're not restricted to these quotes. I just picked ones that speak to me or have a strong image. If you vibe with it and it inspires you, go for it!

What fandoms can I use with these prompts?

Any suitors from games by CYBIRD (Ikepri, Ikevamp, Ikerev, MidCin, Ikevil, Ikesen, Ikegen, Morganatic Idol, ANYTHING)

What kind of content is allowed?

Sfw, nsfw, dark, angst, fluff, suitor x suitor, selfship, oc x suitor — anything is fine. I only ask that you use Tumblr’s built-in content label system to mark content as mature when appropriate. Use tags and warnings as you see necessary.

What tags should I use?

#CountryRadioCC

please at me @candied-boys so I can add your work to a masterlist

Playlists:

Lyrics:

Heart Like A Truck - Lainey Wilson

I got a hankering for four wide tires

And I can't help it, it's the way I'm wired

'Fore you get too close

Boy, you need to know

Turn - Tyler Hubbard

The way she turns 501s into long, tan legs

She can turn a bad day around like she turns those heads

She can turn one little look into turnin' me on

Five more minutes into all night long

Fishin' in the Dark - Nitty Gritty Dirt Band

And it don't matter if we sit forever

And the fish don't bite

Jump in the river and cool ourselves

From the heat of the night

I Grew Up On A Farm - The Reklaws

Why I gotta watch the sunrise

Job ain't ever done till it's done right

I'll tell you what makes me cry about a steel guitar

And why I gotta work so hard

Dirt Cheap - Cody Johnson

That little girl that used to swing right there

I still see her pink bow in her brown hair

Runnin' up after one of them long days

A big smile makin' every little worry fade

Use Me - Dallas Smith

I'll let you go like I always do

Won't hurt as bad 'cause I always knew

That I was just a chapter, no happily-ever-after

Old Dirt Roads - Owen Riegling

Come and find me down where the treeline ends

And the cattails grow

We can be free, livin' our dreams out

Singin' to the radio

American Kids - Kenny Chesney

Sister's got a boyfriend Daddy doesn't like

Now he's sittin' out back, 3030 in his lap

In the blue bug zapper light

Fast Car - Luke Combs

Won't have to drive too far

Just across the border and into the city

And you and I can both get jobs

Finally see what it means to be living

Long Hot Summer - Keith Urban

I wanna see your brown skin shimmer

In the sun for the first time

I gotta be the one who knows just what to do to you

To get me that smile

I Like It, I Love It - Tim McGraw

Spent 48 dollars last night at the county fair

I throwed out my shoulder, but I won her that teddy bear

Cowgirls - Morgan Wallen

And she got a cold heart but she got a warm smile

Cut from the same cloth, she kinda buck-wild

Little bit angel, whole lotta outlaw

She's trouble but I'll tell you right now, y'all

A banner for y'all:

Adorable horse dividers by @/plum98

[seabreeze1969]

Strawberry Pancakes

Summary: Gator Tillman meets OC stripper. She is reluctant to give him a dance, but ends up enjoying it a little too much. He is more than happy to break some rules with her.

Tags/Warnings: strippers, thigh riding, lap dance, power dynamics, paid intimacy, dirty talk, teasing

Chapter One

~Gator

It was the second Friday of May. Every other Friday he found himself sitting in the back of The Tender Trap, a local strip club, with an envelope in his pocket as he waited for a militia man to collect the hefty support of Sheriff Roy Tillman, his father. It was an easy job. That’s why his father gave it to him. At least it was supposed to be easy. But things never came easy to Gator.

As his lazy gaze glossed around the small club, his heart caught in his throat. He wasn’t met with Roxy or Crystal, the usual dancers who would throw him winks every now and again. He saw a young woman he’d never seen before. He was sure if she had been there any of the other Fridays he would’ve known.

Her legs were toned, but covered in stockings forcing him to imagine the bare skin underneath. As his gaze slithered further up skipping over her bare stomach to her breasts he started to feel his pants tighten. The white laced cups pushed up her small tits and had them spilling out over the low top. And finally he reached her face. Her bouncy brown curls framed her soft face, and he couldn’t help but let his mouth fall open as he caught her big doe eyes.

He knew he must’ve looked like a moron sitting there with his jaw on the floor, but he couldn’t help himself. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in person. Something straight off of one of those raunchy old bikini posters he tacked behind his bed.

Before he could stop himself his feet carried him over to the seats closest to the stage where she was entertaining two other men. The closer he got the more her eyes narrowed at him and she suddenly seemed familiar, “Wait a minute. Aren’t you the doc’s kiddo? Miss Grey?” He’d seen her only a couple times when he had to visit the local clinic after a job went sideways, and she looked vastly different in layers of clothes and thick rimmed glasses. But she had given him that same narrow look.

“No, sir,” she shook her head, her full lips turning into a pout, “My name is Candy.”

“Hah, yeah sure it is,” he huffed a laugh, “Anyways, aren’t you a little too smart to be dancing around half naked?”

And then it was her turn to laugh, “If smarts had anything to do with it you’d be the one in heels up here, sheriff.”

“Ouch, sour Candy. You trying to hurt my feelings, girl?” Gator mocked hurt feelings, putting his hand over his heart.

“Were you trying to hurt mine?” She shot back.

“No. How about you make it up to me with a dance?”

“Aren’t you on duty?”

“Nah, I just dress like this for fun,” he hooked his thumbs into the bulky sheriff’s vest, showing it off.

“Won’t it be a bad look for your father?” It was true his father’s election was going to be up soon.

“He’ll be alright. You running out of excuses?” Gator checked.

“I could just say ‘no.’ If you don’t want to take a hint,” she condescended, and that just made him want her all the more. No way in hell was she gonna say ‘no’ to him. He had all the power he needed in the envelope, who would even notice if a couple of the hundreds were missing? Taking less than a second to decide he pulled out the envelope and started counting out the hundred dollar bills that he definitely should not be spending at a strip club.

“Are you deaf? Or just dumb?” Candy frowned, but as he continued to count them she changed her tune, “Holy smokes, where’d you get all that?”

He waved three hundreds at her, “How bout that dance?”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, struggling with the decision, but then she nodded in defeat, “Let’s go.” She hopped off the stage, and took his hand in her own. Her hand was trembling, until she squeezed him a little harder, and he pretended not to notice it. Pretended he was far too preoccupied with the way her ass swayed back and forth in her little white lace underwear.

In the private room there was one lone chair in the center with dark velvet couches surrounding it. As she stepped into the room her white undergarments turned dark red with the lights. She led him to the chair in the center of the room, shoving him down roughly. He made a show of it for her, collapsing into the chair even though he was barely moved from her hands pushing his chest, “Take it easy, baby.”

She ignored him, sliding her hands across his chest into his leather jacket, to slip it off, taking his vest with it. She hooked it on the back of the chair, which still left him in his bulky hoodie.

“That’s more like it, sweetheart,” he grinned as she walked in front of him again. He drank her in once again now that he had her all to himself. Her slim ankles wrapped in the white plastic straps of the clear high heels that were giving her an extra half foot at least. She looked a little unsteady as his gaze raked up the stockings, lingering on the smooth bare skin of her upper thigh. He imagined for a moment how her legs would wrap around him, how he’d grip her hips. The swell of her hips was accentuated as she took a small step toward him, shifting her weight. As his eyes moved up he found her chest rising and falling in quick breathes, her breasts spilling out of the wired corset cups on every intake. Her blush went all the way down her neck, and when his gaze flickered up to her eyes she cast hers to the floor.

“Don’t get all shy on me now,” he admonished half-heartedly, pleased with her little show of innocence. It was charming.

She took another deep breath, drawing his attention back down to her breasts once again, and unballed her fists, starting to undo the bottom of her corset top. He watched her struggle with the little wire clasps that ran up the front for a long minute before he finally huffed a little laugh, “You need a hand?”

She looked up at him with those big brown eyes, and he wondered if it was more than just a show. Then she frowned and gritted, “Shut up.” And he knew it wasn’t. And that made his cock twitch in his pants. She finally got all the clasps undone and then tossed the offending garment on the couch beside her, unable to hide her pride at getting the damned thing off. She locked her arms in front of her, covering up her exposed nipples. He barely caught a glimpse of the pink skin. And then she seemed to realize what she had done and forced her arms behind her back, sticking out her chest.

“I’ve never done this before,” she finally confessed, but he had gathered that.

“I can tell,” he chuckled, “This might be the worst strip dance I’ve ever seen.”

That seemed to set something off in her. He was good at setting people off. Her cheeks were puffed out in anger as she slowly sank down to her knees, not bothering to hide her disgust at the old tile floors. And then she crawled on her hands and knees to him, swaying her hips and holding his stare like it was a challenge. He kicked his boots out on either side of him, making room for her between his thighs. Then he locked his fingers behind his head and reclined a little, the picture of unbothered, indifferent to her. And he saw exactly what he wanted. That angry determination swirling in those narrowed eyes as she let her cheek rest on his inner thigh.

She ran her hands up his shins, to the expanse of his muscular thighs. He felt the heat of her palm reach the bulge of his hardening cock, straining under his cargo pants. Her brow went up in accusation, “For the worst dance you’ve ever had, you seem to be enjoying it.”

“I’m easy,” he shrugged. Then her tongue was licking a stripe over the outline of his dick and his mouth fell open as he was unable to maintain his cool attitude toward the half naked woman between his legs. That had to be against the rules.

Before he could recover she was swinging her hips to the low vibrations of the bass that penetrated the room. She came up to her full height, giving him an eyeful of her breasts, making his mouth start salivating. Maybe he had just fallen for an act of innocence. Massaged them in his face, letting her head roll back as she let a small moan slip past her lips. His hands were moving on their own, in an attempt to assist her, when she slapped them away, “Hands by your side, deputy, or I’ll use your stupid cuffs on you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled out slow, gripping the sides of the chair to keep them there, but her threat just turned him on even more. Having her handcuff him sounded like a damn good time to him.

She swung one leg over his so her back was to him, and crawled down the slope of his leg, leaving her ass high in the air, and his hands squeezing the sides of the chair as she bounced a little on his leg. And then in time with music she was snapping back to sitting upright and grinding her hips just an inch above his thigh, letting him see that she was actually getting wet. Then she stepped out again, twisting to face him and kicked one of his boots so his legs came together before she sat in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and playing with his hair just enough to make his head lull back and seek her fingers. He hadn’t felt a touch like that in years, something intimate and gentle. Hell, if he knew a strip dance felt this good he would’ve started skimming money a long time ago, but he had a feeling it was just her making him feel this way.

She bit her lip, trying to contain a grin, and he felt like he was losing the game he had set up. But she made losing feel good.

Then the song switched from fast paced to a slow jam and she lit up, standing to dance in front of him once again. She was familiar with the song, mouthing the words as she ran her hands up her body and tangled them in her hair the way his hands wanted to. While she mouthed the explicit lyrics, he imagined her in his ear whispering filth only he would ever hear.

Her body rolled in time with the slow beat and she ran her hand down between her breasts, over her flat stomach and dipped between her legs for just a second before she pulled her hand back and ran her tongue over them, her tongue that was nearly on his dick when he had ticked her off. “You want a taste?” she asked, tilting her head curiously, and only then had he noticed his mouth had fallen open in want. He only nodded, sticking his tongue out as she stepped closer to him again with her outstretched hand. Her fingers were glossy from her spit as she brushed them gently over his upper lip, avoiding his tongue, and then pulled back, leaving him running his tongue along his lip trying to taste her. He thought maybe she was wearing some kind of strawberry chapstick as he savored a distant artificial sweetness.

He hummed his approval, and when he caught her eye again her pupils were blown wide. He could nearly see himself reflected in them. He was in a similar state. And then she stepped one leg between his and slowly lowered her hips onto his thigh, grinding on him in time with the music. Her skin was hot, like her entire body was blushing. It gave him goosebumps under his jacket where her warmth couldn’t reach.

And then she made a noise in the back of her throat that had him choking on the air in the room, which was suffocating him with a palpable heat. It wasn’t an over the top moan like from the porn he usually watched, it was a whine she had tried to hide but it slipped past her lips anyways. It was the sexiest thing he had ever heard in his life.

She bit her lip and looked at him apologetically, “Hah, sorry.” And the weight of her lifted up, before his hands flew out to stop her.

“No, don’t stop,” he lifted his knee in a jerk response, applying more pressure to her clit. He pulled and pushed her waist back and forth over his thigh, making her breath quicken. She was so sensitive, shaking like a leaf as he pushed his thigh up hard against her, with intention. He wanted to give her that friction which clearly affected her. His eyes traveled down her body to find a wet spot on his camouflage, “Gonna make a mess on my trousers, girl.”

She looked away in embarrassment as he looked up at her in awe. Her lower lip trembled as he leaned forward, bringing his hand to cradle her cheek. He was completely entranced in her glowing red face. He wanted to stop the anxious tremble of her lip, soothe her embarrassment away however he could. But he found no words, instead leaning in, and letting his eyes slip closed as he brushed his thumb down her bottom lip. He could feel her sharp intake of breath nearly against his mouth. He can’t remember wanting something as simple as a kiss with such an intensity before.

She shoved at his chest and stumbled backwards, catching herself on the edge of the couch. His head was spinning from the whiplash as he watched her catch her breath moving as far away from him as the couch would allow.

“No kissing the clients,” she finally spoke after a few beats of heavy breathing.

“No? Just everything else?” He joked a little, trying to recover his own breathing and will his raging erection to go away. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she started clipping the corset back on.

He stood and slid back into his leather jacket and vest, slicking his hair back which had gotten a little disheveled when she played with it earlier. Then she awkwardly put her hand out and he remembered what he had promised her for such a nice private dance and handed her three hundred, “That’s some technique for your first time.”

“I’m a quick learner,” she nodded, gripping the cash like he was going to snatch it back from her and run. She led him back out into the main room without so much as looking at him and then ran back to the locker rooms, still a little unsteady as his eyes followed her out.

“I’ve been waiting out here for nearly a half hour,” complained Henry, getting up from the bar when he saw Gator. He barely understood the words, too busy thinking about how there was no way in hell he could wait another two weeks to see her again. She gave him a high he knew he’d be hooked on until the day he died. He figured he’d be a married man and still jerk off to her.

“Boy! You hear me? When your daddy hears about you fucking around--” Henry started to threaten, finally pulling Gator’s attention away from the girl. The shove of the white envelope into Henry’s chest cut him off.

“My daddy ain’t gonna hear about it, unless you want me burning this money up and telling him you fucking backward ass hillbillies lost it,” he said it softly with a half smile, contrasting the shouting of the older man who got even angrier as he lost his power.

“We’ll see about that. Don’t make me wait while you’re getting your dick sucked. If you’re daddy don’t make you answer to him. I’ll make you answer to me. Understand, son?”

“Maybe if your wife was better at it you wouldn’t have had to wait so long,” Gator leaned into the man, his hand hovering over the gun in his thigh holster.

“Alright, your time's coming, boy. Your time’s coming.”

“Whatever you say, Henry,” Gator grinned at him, “I’ll see you later.” He waved himself out and hopped into his truck.

He reached for his vape in his pocket, taking a long drag reigniting the buzz in his head that was worked up in the back room of The Tender Trap. He was trying to remember the way her face looked when she moaned, but his memories weren’t coming out right. He needed to see her again. And soon enough he was hard again as he drove back to the Tillman Ranch. The road was lonely and dark that night as he started to touch himself.

[nickssidewitch]

Ride Me Like A Carnival…

Go! Go! Go! A story where Matt and his girlfriend Alyssa are leaving the carnival, and it reminds him of a certain trending song…

Warnings: SMUT, Dom!Matt x Sub!OC (named Alyssa), RIDING!!

***

“You’re so annoying,” Alyssa sighed, rolling her eyes as she walked alongside her cocky boyfriend.

Matt snorted. “You know that’s not true,” he argued slyly, making his girlfriend groan and push him away from her playfully.

The two walked up to Matt’s car, hopped in, and began to drive home.

“It is true, especially right now,” She contested. “Winning all those fucking games got to your head.”

“I’ll make you get to my head…”

“Oh no…”

“Head of this dick!”

Alyssa sighed. “You just wanted to make that joke ‘cause that didn’t make any sense.”

“True,” he admitted with a shrug. “You laughed though, didn’t you?”

Though Alyssa turned her head to face the window and crossed her arms, Matt could still see a small grin on her lips. He chuckled and slapped his hand onto her thigh closest to him, gripping it. “See? I’m funny.”

The two got home and took their shoes off by the door. Matt walked into the kitchen, getting a fresh, cold root beer from the refrigerator.

In the living room, Alyssa walked up to the mirror on the wall and began to take off her earrings. “That carnival was fun, right?”

Matt made his way to the living room and sat on the couch, cracking open his root beer. “It was, honey.” He took a sip of his drink before continuing. “Everytime I hear the word carnival I think of that Kanye song. Y’know, the one with Carti and Ty Dolla Sign?” He laid back against the couch, his legs spreading more widely and hands behind his head. “You ride dick like a carnival, baby?” He grew a smug smirk on his face as he waited for his girl to answer.

“Um, I-” Alyssa paused. She wanted to say yes, she really did, because she knew that was the smarter, more confident route to take. But, there was just something about the question mixed with Matt’s current cocky demeanor that made her hesitant.

Although the smirk remained, Matt cocked an eyebrow as he noticed her hold back a response. “You're not sure?” He questioned.

Alyssa continued to blush and stutter, “I guess so? Well, I-”

Matt quickly interrupted her statement of weakened confidence, beckoning her over with a couple of flicks of his hand. “C’mere, sweet girl,” he said cutely, juxtaposing the egoistic look on his face. His hands beat his thighs, acting as a signal for her to sit on them.

The girl sat atop one of his thighs, but it wasn’t enough for Matt as he grabbed one of her legs and swung it around his waist. This put her completely sat on his lap, her chest facing his, her groin placed on his, and their eyes locking with each other’s.

“You ride dick like a carnival, baby?” He repeated the question and looked into her eyes as if he was searching for the answer that her mouth prevented her from speaking. His hands gripped into her waist and his thumbs began to rub circles into her lower back, a habit he developed the first few times she was ever on top of him. It seemed to calm the two of them down, and the motion just stuck.

The soul-searching look in his eyes seemed to hypnotize Alyssa to finally answer a weak, “Yes,” which was all Matt needed to initiate their upcoming venture.

The boyfriend, still wanting to show himself off after a whole evening of winning carnival games and proving himself to be “something along the lines of the best” as he called himself (he claimed to be modest and used that line of phrasing to prove it), brought his lips to Alyssa and kissed her for a couple of seconds, biting her lip and tugging at it as he pulled back and placed his hands behind his head again. “Prove it.”

Alyssa swore she could hear herself gulp.

He chuckled as he watched her blush. He could feel her body tense as his request, which egged on his smug performance. “Prove to me that you can ride like that.” His eyes landed down between his legs and shot back up into hers, almost like a gesture. “Pull my cock out and show me what you got, princess.”

Alyssa followed his commands and brought her hands between his legs and her own, unzipping his black jeans and pulling out his dick. The sight made her marvel every time, and her mouth salivated instinctively at its form. Thankfully, she was wearing a summer dress, so she could easily pull up the fabric to reveal her own private area.

Matt bit his lip as he watched the scene play out. His girlfriend gave his dick a couple of strokes with her hand, and he took this time to lick four of his fingers, coating them with his saliva to use as a sort of lube to rub at Alyssa’s pussy and warm her up.

Alyssa’s head threw back at his touch, halting her from continuing with her actions. But she was quickly made to resume as she felt a stinging slap on her left ass cheek. She looked at Matt, who said, “C’mon you gotta ride me, sweetheart. Don’t take too long,” he paused to lean forward and whisper in her ear, “or I’m gonna have to take charge. You understand?”

Alyssa nodded and finally gripped onto the shaft of his dick to line it with her entrance. She lifted her body up slightly to line herself with his dick as well, before finally sliding down onto it. She could feel Matt’s hands holding her waist and helping her situate onto him, but he quickly placed them back behind his head. Alyssa could tell he really wanted her to truly prove herself to him.

The feeling of his dick inside of her made the two of them groan, not only in satisfaction, but also to hold themselves back from having an orgasm prematurely. Alyssa began to slide herself up and down repeatedly, letting out little whimpers and soft moans as her arousal started to build up. Her boyfriend’s eyes followed her movements up and down as he observed her. It was like he was genuinely examining her, seeing if she could really provide the proper evidence for her claim that she could ride him “like a carnival”. He had to keep this act up for at least some more minutes before giving her his final conclusion.

Alyssa’s hips began to sway in circular motions at a decent pace, but she kept this up only for so long before she started to whimper and slow down. Matt tried to rile her up a bit, giving another slap and grip onto her ass cheek. But this was no dice. His girl was unraveling on top of him, but not in a good way.

“Baby, come here,” he commanded in a soft tone. He didn’t actually want her to follow his command, so he just wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her in closer. She was trembling, the poor girl. Her head rested on his shoulder and her arms mimicked his as she wrapped them around his back. Matt shushed her whimpers and began to speak to her soothingly in her ear. “It’s okay, baby, shh,” he whispered. “I know, it’s a lot. You’re overwhelmed, I know. I can feel it. Yeah? You are?” He leaned back for a small second before shifting back again. “I know, I see it. You’re okay, I promise. I’ll help you out, but only to give you a little boost, okay?” His hands rubbed at her quivering back to help her calm down.

Alyssa could only respond with a “mhm”. Her boyfriend let out a small breath of a laugh before bringing his hands down to her hips and gripping a bit tightly. “Okay, you might wanna hold onto me,” he warned her, and as soon as she did, his lower body began to thrust upwards into hers at a rapid pace, causing the girl to let out a drawled out moan. She tried to hold her sounds back as best as she could, but the moment Matt fixed his head to look at her face and study her expressions, she opened her mouth and released all of them.

Matt nodded at her reactions as a sign of reassurance. He let out with a grunt and gritted teeth, “There you go, there you go! There’s my girl!” Alyssa giggled for half a second before a spot in her tummy began to twist in arousal, causing her to get back to moaning again.

Matt felt her begin to tighten around him, and this caused him to stop his movements. He quickly slapped her ass multiple times to get her to continue her previous riding without losing the momentum he gave her. “Just had to help you out a little, baby, it’s okay.” He chuckled and began to watch her ride him again. Her movements seemed so much more fluid and he could tell she had more intention.”There she is! Look at my girl! Riding me like a pro!” A huge smile appeared on his face, one of enjoyment and pride.

Alyssa finally clamped around his dick fully, her orgasm hitting her hard. Her body shook, but she never ceased riding Matt.

“Fuck, I’m close, Lyss,” he groaned. “Please… fuck.”

Alyssa bounced herself up and down a few more times before he pulled out and came on both of their bodies. The couple’s chests heaved as they tried to regain their composure.

“Did I do good?” Alyssa finally asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and a hint of post-sex gleam.

“Of course, honey,” He assured her. “Rode me like a carnival.” He chuckled and helped her off of his lap.

“I did,” She said with a confident smile. A tinge of her own ego began to appear on her face which made Matt’s pride in her grow instantly.

“I knew you had it in you all along, sweetheart,” he explained, grabbing a tissue from a box on the coffee table to clean his dick off. “I could see you slipping a little toward the middle. That’s why I helped you a bit. Why did you doubt yourself, honey? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Alyssa blushed. “Because you’re you. And I’m me. I didn’t wanna let you down.”

Matt gave her a warm smile and pulled her in close to him. He got another tissue and began to help Alyssa wipe herself off as well. He never missed out on aftercare. “You could never let me down. You’re great at riding me. And I love watching you ride me, too. Don’t doubt yourself like that. And plus, I’ll always be your biggest cheerleader. That’s why I only helped you a bit and didn’t make you cum with my actions. I wanted you to prove to yourself– not me– that you’re great at riding. And what did you learn?”

“I am,” she replied, which made Matt kiss her forehead.

“Good girl,” he said with a nod. “Now we have to prove the other part of the song.” Alyssa looked at him confused before he continued, “Is your head so good you’re a honor roll?”

[imanii-leaa]

wanted to start off making a good impression, so here y’all go! 😅😅

::

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡

I’m Ready.

y’all ever feel that chu can’t do something? ever? like your life doesn’t fit with said something. well, that’s how jey (josh) felt towards coco. his party animal life didn’t suit with coco’s dream life. for him, it was too settled.. too rushed. sure, he loved her but was he willing to risk freedom for her expectations? ↴↴

‼️ YALL DONT AND I MEAN DONT EVER USE, COPY, OR STEAL MY STUFF, REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED, FEEDBACK AND LIKES INCLUDED, AND ALL OCS ARE MINE. i dont own anything else (obviously except fictional events made by me) 😌 ‼️

*Not proof read

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(3rd person POV)

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨: 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 (𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐱 𝐛𝐲 𝐒𝐲𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐞)

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Jones was getting ready to hop in the shower before she got a WhatsApp notification from her friend, Trinity (or some like to call her Naomi). Coco ignored the message, played her shower playlist and stepped into the shower. She closed her eyes and swayed her hips to the music as she felt the hot water comfortably burn down her skin.

She was really getting into it before her music stopped. What the heck? That question lingered in her head, not for long though as she heard her iPhone ringtone coming from her phone. Coco sighed as she looked through the glass mirror cover bit of her shower to see the contact name.

“WhatsApp call incoming: trintwin 💕💚”

The 5’10 woman felt as if to laugh. Is she serious? Coco waited for the ringing to end and her music to play, and it did just that. Around 20 minutes later, she stepped out and grabbed her towel to wrap around her slim, ebony body. Entering her room and drying off, Courtney went on her missed calls list, tapped on her friend’s name and calling her again. After one ring, Naomi picked up.

Here’s how that convo went:

T: GIRL, I BEEN CALLING YOU!

C: Chill, boo, I was in the shower. ‘nyways wassuh?

T: Yuh, uh-huh, anyways Jon’s going out and asked me to accompany him, I do wanna go but not without my girls. I texted and called Jade, Bianca, Nikki and Brie already, telling them to bring their mans but I can’t leave my fav out! So whatchu say?

Coco sucked her teeth and giggled a bit. They had only known each other for a month through mutual friends and with their busy schedule, they never really had the chance to hang out. Despite the fact that it is in a group, it would still be nice to catch up on things with her.

C: Nope, I’ve got no plans for the day and I desire to keep it like that, thanks though!

T: Oh, it wasn’t a question. Be ready by 8 later this night. Before you say anything, I do know that it is currently 11AM but I didn’t want to forget to ask you. Please come, it’s our day off, we both barely get those, and it’s time to let your guard down and relax with the girlies for a bit!

Trinity was a master at persuading people because after that, Coco had reluctantly agreed to her invite. She wasn’t going to lie, she was playing hard to get as she was feeling a tad bit excited to go out and enjoy herself for the night; she did have nothing to do after all.

( 𝗦𝗞𝗜𝗣 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝟳𝗣𝗠, 𝗖𝗢𝗖𝗢 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗚𝗢𝗧 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥 𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗜𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗗𝗢𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗛𝗔𝗜𝗥 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗨𝗣 )

Coco was listening to her song, ICU, while doing her hair and makeup, until she received a text notification from Trinity. She stopped everything that she was doing to pick up her phone and take a look. Tutting, she picked the iPhone 14 pro up and took a look at what Trin had said.

‘Change of plans, we’re leaving in around 30 minutes, so you should probably start getting ready to leave. Sorry for the inconvenience!’

Coco dropped her phone down and sighed. This just annoyed her. She’s near the end of her makeup and doesn’t know what jewelry she was going to where. What perfume, what bag, shoes..

That was very important to her! Nevertheless, she had to round up what she was doing-so she quickly finished off her making, though making sure not to rush, found a cute purse to match with her CUTE outfit and of course had to finish off the look with some gold accessories and shoes. Adding a bit of her Clive Christian - X Feminine Perfume into the mix before she was set to go.

That must’ve taken around 45 minutes, but if they were to be disappointed it would be their fault for changing plans on such short notice.

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— AT THE CLUB —

Coco entered the club, immediately surrounded by the smell of booze and the sound of blasting music coming from the speakers that are seen to be nearly everywhere in the club.

(COCO’s POV)

The club stank of richness. I didn’t consider myself to be rich and famous, just upper-middle class and well-known. Most would disagree. Anyways, I looked around the club, searching for my friends. The bar…nope. I turned my head to the right and couldn’t see anybody. I looked to the left and saw a big group of people. Without thinking twice, I began to walk towards them until I realized they were complete strangers. I took my phone out from my purse and was going to text Trinity until I heard her forever cheerful voice.

“Girrrlll! You came! We all thought you was gon stand us up, come with me” Not giving me a chance to reply, she took me in her arms and lead me upstairs. I figured a bit ago that that kind of annoys me. I ignore it though, because that’s my homegirl! Dang, ian knew this place had an upstairs. I thought, mentally rubbing the back of my neck.

A few minutes later after walking through a closed off hallway, we arrived in front of a door that had two security in front of it and a label on the entry that ‘Door 13: V.I.P Only’. Taking a quick second to myself, I looked around and noticed that there were other VIP rooms around us. We stepped inside and I noticed everybody that was there.

(incoming wrestler’s stage names and real life partner’s names- mind yu, main characs in this story won’t be called by their real names)

Jon, Kofi, Xavier, Bianca, Montez, Jade, Brandon, Liv, Jordynne, Bayley and … JOSHUA?!

He looked up from his phone, staring at my surprised face in shock aswell. Oops, guess I said that out loud. I turned to Trinity and hit her playfully, my jaw still dropped. “Uh, trin! You ain’t never said anything about him being here!”

She shrugged and sat back down next to Jonathan. The others looked uninterested, everybody except from Bayley and Liv, the only females without a partner. Bianca and Jade were going to greet me but obviously I was busy and they were busy too, having deeps with their partners. Josh approached me and suddenly I tensed up.

“You look beautiful.” He complimented. “Thanks” I replied back. “Can we talk over there?” Joshua gestured to an empty space: the bar.

“Um, sure”

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OKAY, YALL? WHAT YALL THINK?? Mb, yall im not very good at English and i often get messed up with uk vs us words so yea.. anywayss, lmk what yu think? 💭 🩷‼️

[buggysangel17]

Three Peas In A Pod III

Summary: She gives Buggy a semblance of an explanation. Characters: Shanks x Buggy x F!Reading (she/her). OC Twins. (Rosa & Azul) Word Count: 1,590 Chapter Warnings:  Profanities. Slight Make Out Session. Mentions of Body Parts being cut off (Don't worry it's just Buggy). Mentions of mishandling of said body parts cut of (the twins are little shits for this lol).

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Send Me An Ask?

Chapter III: Betting On Losing Dogs

“We’re coming with you, Ma!”

“You two need to stay here, I need to deal with your father.” You had tried your best to reassure your twins, their swords still cautiously pointed at Buggy and the rest of his crew. “I need the both of you here with the crew where you two are safer.”

“You think I can’t keep my children safe?” Buggy questioned.

“Just a few minutes ago you were threatening them, so excuse me if I don’t feel safe having them anywhere near you or your crew of fucking freaks.” You glared right back on his crew that gave your leering looks.

“How would we know that he’s not going to hurt you in any way?” Azul questioned, one hand on his sword, the other on his pocket, you were all too certain that he was holding onto one of his smoke bomb, ready to use it with just a single signal from you.

“Fair trade would be good.” You shrugged in one fluid movement punched Buggy in the stomach, before pulling a dagger from your boots and slicing off both his ear and his dominant hand, much to the screams that escaped your children’s lips.

“You really have to traumatize my kids?” Buggy groaned.

Without hesitation, you had handed the ear and hand to your twins, both throwing the decapitated parts amongst themselves in utter fear and disgust for the entirety of it.

“Oh so now they’re your kids.” You snapped, slapping the two on the back of their heads to finally calm them down. “Don’t worry, when I get back, your father will re-attach those parts back to his stupid body.”

“You really never changed, Yellow.” He groaned.

With your second and third-in-command, Mako and Mori you had instructed them both to continue on with the journey as planned, but being as vague as possible in hopes not to arouse any more suspicion with the clown. Kissing your twin that were now surprisingly playing with the decapitated appendages, you hopped onto the Clown’s ship alongside him and waited for your own ship to set sail all over again. Glimpses of your twins’ worry was reassured with a smile from you.

“Wanna explain why you freely gave yourself up to me again?” Buggy questioned as soon as you have no longer seen sight of the ship.

“I didn’t give up anything.” You shrugged turning to face him, ignoring the other eyes still glued to you. “But I thought now would be a good time as any to give you answers.” You shrugged, trying your best to act unaffected by his earlier statement of not forgiving you for keeping his children away from him.

“Ya think?” He snorts walking towards what you believed was his private area, beckoning you to follow him.

You did without much of an ounce of hesitation, the crew of misfits dividing like the red sea as the both of you walked further into the ship. Your eyes peered around them, memorizing each faces and making sure you could see who would be the most likely to strike first if you do anything funny in the confinements of the ship.

But as soon as you had locked the doors, there wasn’t much of an explanation to be made as you were shoved onto the wall and all the air leaving your chest as you were consumed by the kiss of one of the two men that you would allow to see you at your most weakest.

“I fucking hate you for what you and Shanks did to me, but I still fucking miss you more than I should.” He spat, pulling you with his only hand closer to him, and you find yourself reciprocating his kiss with the same gusto.

But as you found yourself slowly loosing your resolve, Buggy finds himself yelping and holding to his head in pain.

“What’s wrong?” You questioned, dazed from the kiss.

“They’re screaming in my ear.” He complained.

You find yourself smiling at the fact. That was your babies and you thought them both well. Give anyone and everyone hell, even their own father too.

“Good on them.” You snort watching the man deep in thought. “What are you doing?”

“Fucking looking for some sort of paper or pen in your stinkin’ ship. That’s the only way I could keep their pipes closed for a while.”

You nodded, turning your attention away from him and towards his bedroom instead.  The room is a chaotic blend of mismatched furniture, colorful fabrics, and assorted trinkets, much like the man himself. As you look around, memories of your time together as part of Roger’s crew come flooding back like a tidal wave.

Your gaze falls on a weathered pirate flag hanging on one wall, faded but still proudly displaying the Jolly Roger. It’s the same flag you raised countless times as you sailed the Grand line with Buggy, Shanks, and the crew. You remember the exhilaration of those adventures, the battles, and the endless laughter shared.

On a rickety wooden shelf, you spot a collection of small figurines, each representing a different island you visited together. These miniature landmarks trigger vivid recollections of your travels, from the frozen tundras of Drum Island to the fiery depths of Alabasta. It's a testament to the countless escapades you've shared.

Beside the figurines, a framed photograph captures a moment from your past. In the picture, you, Shanks and Buggy are much younger, your faces lit up with unbridled joy. It was taken during a rare moment of calm when you were ashore in a peaceful village. You remember how his hand had found yours as you walked along the beach, fingers entwined, and a promise of a future you both yearned for together as an unofficial official throuple—as you playfully called yourselves back then.

The corner of the room is dominated by a massive treasure chest, its lid slightly ajar. The chest is filled with an eclectic mix of items: gold coins, gemstones, and various trinkets you've gathered over the years. These treasures are the fruits of your labor and adventures, each representing a shared victory, a hard-fought battle, or a daring heist. You can't help but smile at the thought of the crazy schemes you and Buggy hatched to acquire them and Shanks trying his best to make sure neither of you got into trouble because of it.

Amidst the plundered riches, you spot a small, ornate jewelry box. You remember the day Buggy gave it to you, a token of his affection during a brief moment of vulnerability. Inside, a delicate necklace with a single, heart-shaped pendant lies nestled. It's a symbol of the love you both kept hidden from the world, the love that only grew stronger as you faced the dangers of the Grand Line together.

As you take in the room filled with mementos, you realize that even though you and Buggy have gone your separate ways, the memories of your shared adventures and the love you once shared will forever be a part of you. It's a bittersweet feeling, knowing that the past is gone, but the trinkets and tokens in this room are a testament to the enduring bond you will always share, no matter where your pirate journeys take you. Flooded by the what ifs of you living in the sea with the twins so early on, how would your lives would have been vastly different from what it was now.

“Why did you keep this?” You asked him the moment he was no longer busy with using his decapitated hand aboard your own ship.

“Only piece of you I had.” It was the only explanation he could give, plopping down on the unmade bed of his. “I just love to hurt myself, you know. With the past, and everything it meant to me—only to find out you were capable of hurting me more than you or Shanks could ever do already.”

“I had to do if for the twins.” It was your only explanation. “What life could I give to them if we’re constantly running from the Marines? I needed to give them the stability that I know you and Shanks couldn’t really have back then.”

“You could have told me!” He spat standing up and rushing towards you. His anger raising tenfolds now as he looked down at you. “At least I should have been given the decency to know that I was a father.” He spoke, softer now as he turned his back to you. “I’m sure Shanks took the role of a father well without me to mess things up.”

“Shanks doesn’t know.” You admit. “Neither of you did.”

“So what’s your plan now? Now that you’ve just eaten your words and now throwing the twins right into the belly of this madness?”

“Give them what they always wanted.” You shrugged. “They want the One Piece, so I’ll give them the One Piece, with or without you or Shanks to help us get it.”

[huramuna]

the calico bastard - chapter 3.

 aemond targaryen x strong bastard oc (series) previous part | next part

summary: After his takeover of Harrenhal, Aemond encounters a dreamy-eyed, wistful bastard of House Strong, who piques his interest and changes the course of Westerosi history.

warnings: smut (eventually), angst, canon typical violence, canon typical misogyny, depictions & descriptions of death

wordcount: 3.4k

a/n: alys rivers doesn’t exist in this universe, alysanne takes her place somewhat. a/n 2: this is my first fic, i got the courage to post it -- please be nice n' leave a like if this interests you!

art by me of alysanne • an edit by me of alysanne as a child • aesthetic board

wuthering heights - kate bush • leave me for dead - GAYLE

Alysanne didn’t get much sleep that night, not after what she’d seen— the future and the present. 

She paced around her small room until the light trickled from the horizon. Aemond’s harrowing screams echoed in her ears, her chest heaving and falling. 

There had only been one time before she had such a violent vision. 

It was eight years before— Alysanne was only ten years of age, just an unloved bastard girl of Harrenhal. 

Except, she had one who loved her. The only one. 

“Pick me up, pick me up!” Alysanne cried gleefully, “Breakthbonthes, pick me up!” she held her arms up, her words whistling through the gap in her baby teeth— she’d yet to lose those last few teeth right at the front, causing an admittedly quite silly lisp. 

Ser Harwin Strong— her brother, or half-brother as it may be, had returned to Harrenhal after a long time away. 

Her father, too, had returned— but Alysanne could care less, they were indifferent to one another. 

But Harwin— Harwin was hers, her brother, the only person to ever treat her like a person, like she wasn’t lesser. 

She ran on bare feet out to the gates, jumping and waving her arms as she saw the procession arrive. The little girl would recognize the curly mop and mountainous build of her brother anywhere. 

“Ah, my little lilac!” Harwin boomed from atop his horse, spurring the stallion into the gates, “By the Seven, Alysanne, you’ve grown.” 

“The maesther says I’m too schmall for my age,” she grumbled, kicking up dirt. 

“Ahh, and what does he know, anyhow?” Harwin grinned, dismounting his horse and leaving the reins to the stablehand. “The poor sod can hardly see past those caterpillars of eyebrows atop his head, eh?” 

Alysanne giggled, putting her arms up once more, “Please pick me up— wanna be thall… t-tall,” she tried to correct, spitting a bit through her gapped teeth. 

Harwin chuckled— it was a rich, soothing sound. His whole body seemed to erupt with the joy he brought as he laughed, like a deep and generous clap of thunder before the skies opened up. 

Alysanne felt her heart rattle around in her chest at the noise. 

“Let me get this heavy armor off, lilac,” he hummed, “C’mon, tell me about what you’ve been up to.” 

Alysanne skipped and hopped alongside Harwin as they walked through the courtyard, where he left his armor at the smith to be polished. She babbled on about the books she read, the birds she saw, and any innocuous thing she could conjure up. 

Each thing, no matter how small, boring, or insignificant it may be, Harwin would respond, whether in agreement, asking a question, anything at all— anything to make Alysanne feel special. 

“Alright— c’mere, little lilac,” Harwin finally acquiesced, kneeling down slightly. 

Alysanne squealed in delight as he ran into his arms— only to be met with darkness. 

A cold, withering darkness. Usually, being encapsulated by Harwin was warm— warm and bright, like the sunniest summer day.

But she felt cold— cold like the North was, colder than anything she felt before, like after a flame had been extinguished. 

Then, her vision went red— red, orange, yellow, crackling fire— warm, warm, too warm. Hot, hot— it was smoldering, she was screaming, feeling the skin melt from her bones and char into ash— and she wasn’t the only one screaming. 

She heard the cries of men— two very familiar to her— 

Harwin, Harwin— open the door, open the door, brother, please! She screamed and clawed at the door until it melted before her into glowing lava, sizzling at her feet— and behind it, Harwin— his hand on the knob, no, fused to the knob. 

His hand wasn’t attached, snapped off like a charred piece of firewood, his body strewn across the floor. His face peeled from the muscle and sinew, popping and blistering against the heat. His mouth, now just a hole, was twisted into an everlasting scream—

And then she was back. Back to the warmth and brightness of Harwin’s arms. He was shaking her softly, jostling her shoulder as a small crowd was gathered. 

“Alysanne,” he murmured frantically, “Alysanne, wake up, my girl.” 

Her eyes fluttered open, filled with tears— they rolled down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a whimpering sob came out. 

“Shh, don’t speak, it's okay,” he cooed, turning her away from the prying eyes of the crowd, “I’ve got you.” 

Ser Harwin Strong and his father, Lord Lyonel Strong, perished that same night in a fire— a supposed accident.

But Alysanne— she had known. She saw it, and had said nothing. She hears Harwin’s ghost muttering to her at times, his warm and gentle voice now saddened by ash and smoke. 

She contemplated her life for days, months and years after— she had lost the only family she had— and she could’ve stopped it. 

Since then, she relented from touching people or being touched. She never wanted to have that power— she didn’t want to see their deaths, hear their screams and have their ghosts linger in her head for the rest of her life. 

Now, after seeing Aemond’s supposed death, she felt a responsibility to change it— not for herself, not for Aemond— but for Harwin. For what she could’ve done, should’ve done. 

She wiped an errant tear from her cheek as she dressed for the day. She forwent the corset— damn the thing— and dressed in another kirtle, a paisley color. 

Her hands moved deftly as she tied her curly hair up into two braids— nothing like Flora and Beth had done— but it did the job nonetheless. 

The rest of the keep wasn’t awake yet— or so she had thought. She walked out in the courtyard barefoot, as usual, and found it odd as she heard another pair of feet crunching gravel near her. 

Turning around, she came face to face with Aemond. He looked… exhausted. 

His brow perked, “What are you doing up this early?” he asked as he kept walking, a nod of his head in indication that he wished for her to follow. 

She let out a sniff, “I’m always awake,” she grumbled, “I need to tend to Banshee.” she trotted alongside Aemond, her short legs having to work double time to keep up with his long legged strides. 

“‘Banshee’? I know that Harrenhal has its fair share of ghosts, but I haven’t heard the wail of a banshee yet— and even so, how does one tend to a Banshee?” he prodded, putting on a pair of leather gloves as they walked. 

“… Banshee isn’t a ghost,” Alysanne said, a slight tinge of annoyance lacing her voice, “Banshee is my horse.” 

They stopped at the stable, which now housed more horses than usual on account of the soldier’s occupation. Alysanne slunk to the last paddock, which was in truth, not in good shape. It had its fair share of bite marks and hoof prints. 

Aemond watched as the strange little bastard lady stood on her tippy toes, clicking her tongue and holding out her hand over the top of the stall door. 

A rumbling snort was heard before an absolutely monstrous horse head dipped over the door. It had a gray spotted snout and a neatly trimmed forelock and mane. 

Alysanne hummed as she undid the lock and led out Banshee. He was a ginormous draught horse, built purely of muscle and power. He had a light gray coat with black dapples— as well as some long feathering near his hooves. He was easily taller than Aemond by a foot.

The gelding let out a snort as he looked at Aemond, then turned his focus back to Alysanne, nuzzling the top of her head, earning a small giggle from her.

Aemond Targaryen, rider of the largest dragon in the world, was slightly aghast at the size of this horse. He exhaled, “That has to be the biggest fucking horse I’ve ever seen,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. He looked back and forth between Alysanne and Banshee, “How do you even get on his back?” 

Alysanne looked at Aemond, slightly bewildered, “You ride Vhagar— how do you get on her back?” she countered as she led Banshee out into the courtyard. 

Aemond, fascinated by Alysanne and her monster horse, followed, “Well— a fair bit of climbing, and she has some rope rigging around her saddle.” 

Alysanne pat Banshee on his neck— at least, as far as she could reach. “Well, think of Banshee as a small Vhagar,” she hummed, “It isn’t graceful, but a fair bit of climbing,” she mimicked his tone, “does the job.” 

The prince was slightly amused by this. “Well then— go on,” he pressed, “Let’s see how the bastard fares getting atop her horse.” 

Alysanne let out something of a growl or a grumble in annoyance, clicking her tongue after. Banshee lowered himself slightly, to a point where she could snag onto his mane and scramble up his neck, sliding down onto his back. It was hardly graceful, and was comparable to how a bat scrambles upon walls before taking flight.

“No saddle? Reins?” he questioned further. 

Alysanne cocked her head, “No?” she snorted, as if it was the silliest question she’d ever heard.

The prince pinched his brow in what seemed to be frustration, “How silly of me— you don’t even wear shoes, of course you’d ride your beast without the proper tack.” 

She rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything further. She murmured something to Banshee, who let out a whinny and began his walk— it was slow and bumpy, but Alysanne kept her composure. 

“Be here when I return, girl,” Aemond said before they got out of earshot, “I’ll have need of you.” 

Her brow furrowed. Need of her? For what? And where was he going? 

Alysanne and Banshee’s leisurely walk turned into a relaxed trot as they exited the gates of Harrenhal. They were half a mile away from the ancient castle before a thunderous roar was heard, and the rising sun was eclipsed by the gargantuan green beast known as Vhagar. 

Alysanne scratched Banshee as he got a bit fidgety as the dragon flew low in the sky, just above the treeline. “S’okay, my sweet boy,” she hummed, wrapping her arms around his neck as far as she could reach, “You won’t die by a dragon— I’ve seen it.” 

As Vhagar began to disappear from sight, something clicked in Alysanne’s head. The dragon was riding towards the God’s Eye— which meant Aemond was as well. 

It… it felt like too soon— no, the battle couldn’t be today— but she had seen Harwin’s death just hours before it happened… 

She spurred Banshee into a full on gallop, pressing low to his back to hold on, “Please, please,” she whimpered, tears already forming in her eyes. 

As they approached the shore of the God’s Eye, she looked around, scanning the sky for any sign of the bloodwyrm— or even Vhagar. 

She slid off of Banshee’s back, letting him graze as she walked the pebbled beach of the lake. She paced back and forth until it was high noon, the sun rising in the sky to its apex. 

A few more hours passed until late afternoon, the sun beginning its descent back towards the earth. A temporary eclipse of Vhagar returning had Alysanne giving a small breath of relief— until the giant dragon turned, lowering down to find a spot to land.

Banshee strayed near the woodline, as far from the dragon as possible— Alysanne shared his unease, a deep pit settling in her gut. 

She ground her teeth as she approached the landing dragon, the powerful flaps of her wings actually causing Alysanne to fall over— which apparently earned a laugh from Aemond— a laugh? When had she heard him actually laugh? 

Watching as he gracefully slid from Vhagar’s saddle, not before unstrapping himself (earning Alysanne a breath), she got back to her feet, dusting off her dress. 

“I thought I spotted that elephant horse of yours,” he called out, walking towards her. 

She shrunk back, “What do you want?” 

As he got closer, his expression became more visible. He seemed… lighter. More elated. His hair was swept back from the wind and his mouth was crinkled in a small grin— not that of a predator like usual, but like that of someone who was… joyous?

It was a difference of night and day— his pained anguish the night before, and his almost boyish  demeanor now. 

It confused Alysanne— she hadn’t accounted for this, such a strong change in emotion from him. It settled the pit in her stomach ever so slightly. 

“What do I want?” he repeated with a questioning tone, “Nothing— I merely wished to see if your beast had bucked you off yet.” he stopped a few feet away from her, not getting too close. His arms were behind his back in their usual resting position. It seemed as if he was respecting her boundaries. 

“Banshee wouldn’t— not to me, atleast,” she picked up a smooth stone from below her idly, rolling it around in her palm, “He’s a killer, you know.” 

“A killer, hm?” 

“Mhm,” she hummed, “Stomped in a few men’s heads over the years— ones that tried to ride him, besides me.” 

Aemond’s lip curled slightly, “Seems he’s bonded with you as his sole rider, then. Dragons are much the same. They get to choose who they bond with— test their mettle, and find them worthy.” 

Alysanne looked towards him as they conversed— they began walking around the shore near each other and she hadn’t even noticed. He still kept his distance, to which she was grateful. “Vhagar finds you worthy,” she commented, “It must be an honor.” 

Aemond picked up a rock as well, weighing it in his palm, “It is. It’s the highest honor of any Targaryen’s life— to be chosen by a dragon.” 

She stopped at the lapping waves, dipping her feet in the water. With a swift movement of her hand, she sent the stone skidding across the surface. Once, twice, thrice. 

A few moments later, Aemond did the same. Once, twice, thrice. 

Alysanne gave a lopsided smile at that as she straightened back up. She felt at ease— like a leaf on a cooling breeze. Not only at ease, she felt brave. 

Slowly, she lifted her head, taking in the features of Aemond’s face before landing on his eye— which looked right back at her. 

She felt a rattling in her chest— like a caged bird flapping and ricocheting against her bones. A strange heat came to her cheeks. “We make up one pair of violet eyes, you and I,” she murmured suddenly, “One lilac between each of us…” she stared at his remaining eye, to which he stared back at her one, paired with the rich, earthy brown of her other eye.

His brow furrowed momentarily, “An interesting observation,” he picked up another rock and skipped it across the waves, “You remind me of someone, you know. My sister— Helaena, her grace, the queen,” he whispered, his voice taking on a softer note, “I feel like you two would have much to talk about.” 

“I’ve heard she is fond of insects,” Alysanne answered, walking from the shore to the grass, where she began picking plants from the soil, seemingly with purpose, “I quite like a good moth myself. They liken themselves to have false eyes on their wings, so they do not have to stare down predators.” 

Aemond didn’t comment— he just watched her pick plants. 

“Herbs,” she said, as if feeling his questioning stare on her back, “For my medicines.” 

“I didn’t know you were a maester as well as a bastard,” he said– more likely than not with a smug grin on his face.

“I may be odd in appearance, but you must be blind in both eyes if you think I resemble a smelly, mean old man.” she quipped back.

He didn’t say anything more, just setting his jaw in a hard line. This earned Alysanne a satisfied smile– the bird had silenced the dragon. 

In her joyful reverie, she went to pick a bundle of chamomile– but her hand plunged into a bush of stinging nettle. She let out a yelp like an injured animal, pulling her hand back and looking over it.

Apparently, her yelp had caused some concern from Aemond, who rushed over– he broke the boundary they had set, and even more, he reached out to her hand. “Let me see,” he grumbled.

“No, no–,” her cry was cut off as they touched, and her vision went black once more.

It was storming. Thunder rumbled the ancient stronghold– but they were not in Harrenhal. She couldn’t quite fixate where they were, until she heard the tumultuous crashing of waves against chiseled stone. Storm’s End– the seat of power for House Baratheon.

Why was she here– why… Aemond was here as well. He was stanced as usual, his hands behind his back.

Another boy was there, as well– brown, shaggy hair and brown eyes. Harwin? He looked like Harwin– he was turning away from Aemond, walking out.

“Wait,” Aemond called out, “My lord Strong,”

Strong? There were no more Strong Lords– and not a young boy like this. Who… was he? When was this?

“Did you really think you could fly about the realm, trying to steal my brother’s throne; at no cost?”

“I will not fight you– I came as a messenger, not a warrior,” the young boy spoke. Alysanne could see his body language– he was… afraid.

Aemond smirked, “A fight would be little challenge. No,” he said, putting his hand up to his eyepatch, taking off the leather and revealing his sapphire eye underneath, “I want you to put out your eye. It is payment for mine. One will serve,” the prince drew back his coat, throwing a dagger to the floor towards the boy, “I would not blind you. I plan to make a gift of it to my mother.” 

The boy shivered, falling into himself inwardly for just a moment– then he took a breath, puffing out his chest, “No.” he declared, staring Aemond down.

“So you are craven, as well as a traitor.” Aemond hummed for a moment, the sound of Lord Baratheon’s cries to stop drowned out from blood pumping in his ears– hers as well.

Alysanne felt his contempt, felt his rage– bubbling, boiling right under the surface, just like the Fourteen Flames of Valyria. The madness in him was palpable, threatening to break his bones and turn him into a beast hewn of scale and wrath and tear this ‘Lord Strong’ apart brick by brick. 

She shivered; he truly was fire made flesh, an echo of a warrior long past– a god of War in his own right. 

“Give me your eye! Or I will take it, bastard!” Aemond exploded, advancing on the little Lord Strong like a predator–

Then they were in the sky, Aemond chanting taunts atop Vhagar– words that Alysanne didn’t inherently understand, but she felt it– in her bones, rattling around her chest and stomach.

It was a chase– a game of cat and mouse– or dragon and dragon as it may be. But Alysanne knew it was nothing of fairness. What was fair in a dragon of War, named after the Goddess of War, chasing a hatchling just large enough to carry a young boy? 

What was fair in that?

What was fair?

In her fairness, in her twisted justice– Vhagar’s massive jaws snapped the smaller dragon into pieces, along with Lord Strong, the remains of his existence scattered into the sea. 

The rage of Aemond quelled– quelled into a dull ache. It was replaced by a new feeling, mayhaps one Aemond hadn’t felt before.

Guilt. Remorse. 

Kinslayer. Accursed.

What had he done?

Her eyes opened– she wasn’t crying like usual, when she saw death. Usually it was impending death, something that perhaps she had a chance to change– but this… was the past, wasn’t it? Something she never could change, something that had already been lived and gone and was a done deal, sealed with the bow of death. She didn’t feel panicked, no– she felt hollow.

Aemond was holding her up again, cradling her like a delicate flower. He cleared his throat as he stared down at her. “What did you see?” he asked, his voice so quiet it was almost inaudible. 

“Kinslayer.” she murmured in response, her voice broken.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 30: Pretend

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

Back at Arrow House the gathering seems to split up into two groups: Grace’s side and Thomas’ side. On one side stands cheerful grins and partying hooligans. The other has tight-smiling women and military uniforms. I don’t belong here. And as much as she pretends Grace doesn’t think so either.

“Verena? Why are you back here?” 

My hiding spot in the kitchen has been discovered. Why does Finn get more grown up every time I see him?

“Sorry, Finn. Not feeling too social. I hardly know anyone here!”

“That can be fixed.” He points to the party going on outside.

“Polite pass. I shouldn’t really be here, you know.” I hold up a gift basket. “My father’s sent me here with fresh whiskey as gifts for the newlyweds. His regards for your hospitality.”

The youngest Shelby joins me on the stone steps. “Even so, what’s important is that you’re here. It’s been two years. We all missed you.” He nudges my shoulder. “Again.”

“I know, I know. But there’s nothing else tying me here anymore. Polly argued with Thomas to let me stay but he says my debt has been paid. If I stick around it’s of my own accord and that would look very suspicious.”

“You can still work for Shelby Brothers Limited,” Finn suggests.

“No offense, but I want to establish my life around a career that’s not illegal.”

He shows mock offense to my words. “That’s not true. We’ve weeded out most of the illegal rubbish.”

“Oi! Finn! Where’d you go off to?”

Finn hops to his feet. “That’s Jackson! Be right back!”

He runs out to join his friend and I’m left alone in the drafty kitchen. Wearing a wrinkled blue dress, sipping watered down whiskey, and thinking about broken dreams. Is this how Thomas feels when he’s depressed?

Footsteps alert my attention to the back door just in time to see John walk in. “Finn said I’d find you here.”

My brow furrows in frustration and I have to look down. “I’m- I shouldn’t be here, John. Everyone can see it. I’m the oddball American. I can’t go unnoticed because people always look at me funny when I speak.”

I hear him walk over and he kneels next to me. “Verena, you do need to be here. For all of us. Tommy was so happy when he heard you were coming. Now, before you say anything, I do admit even I’m disappointed it’s not you walking down the aisle.” He speaks faster when he sees my shock. “But please understand that you being here is important. And the bit about you being American? Flaunt it! It’s what makes you. You’re proud of your heritage, eh?”

My posture straightens and I set my jaw firm. “Without question.”

He pats my back. “Then don’t let those stuffy sods get you down. Here, drink this.”

I gratefully take the shot. “L’Chaim. Now I should go give my best wishes to the happy couple instead of just hiding in the kitchen-”

“Not quite yet,” John makes me sit back down. “Tommy’s holding a meeting. You’re part of this too! I’m gonna go find Arthur.”

All the Blinder boys begin crowding in. Finn’s back too. So many familiar faces. Michael, Jeremiah, Isaiah, Johnny Doggs. Um, this is not a meeting I’m meant to be part of. It doesn’t feel right.

“Finn, I’m not sure-” I stutter and start inching towards the back door. “I’m not a gangster, I’m not family-”

“The Hell you’re not!” Finn grabs my arm and hides me behind the pantry. “Get in here, Verena.”

People part away and Thomas steps in front of the group. When he sees me standing next to Finn he gets confused.

“Verena? Why’re ya hiding back here?”

I’m surprised he noticed my absence. “Just tired is all. I had a long trip.”

“How long will you stay?” Is that hope hidden in his voice?

“A few days, perhaps.” I take a sip of whiskey. “Then I’m heading to Belfast to respond to a note from my uncle.”

His face falls. “That soon?”

Why else would I stay? He’s got his bride and his son. I’m not part of the equation. And he’s quick to forget it because now Thomas is scanning the crowd for the rest of his brothers.

“Where are they? Where-?”

“I don’t know, Tommy-”

The door opens and Arthur and John bust in carrying wine. “Here we are! We got lost. You really need to do a map, Tommy.”

Thomas has looked stressed before but this is a new form of stress. He keeps looking at everyone like a dog growling at intruders.

“Right boys, you’re all here. Today, this is my fucking wedding day.”

Oh no, I’ve walked right into the warning speech. Thomas is off the leash. That cigarette is never going to provide enough nicotine to get him through this.

“And you said there’d be no bloody uniforms-” John complains.

“Nevertheless, John, despite the bad blood I’ll have none of it on my carpet. Now for Grace’s sake nothing will go wrong.” He holds up his hands in an attempt to calm people down and points to the door. “Those bastards out there are her family. And if you fuckers do anything to emberass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything…”

John speaks up. “Tom-”

“What?!” he barks.

His brother flinches and Isiah asks instead. “What about snow?”

“Yeah their women are sports I’ll say that!” John agrees and gets him in a headlock.

“No. No. No.” Thomas approaches them in an eerily steady but scary voice. “No cocaine. No cocaine. No sports. No telling fortunes, no racing, no fucking sucking petrol out of their fucking cars. And you, Charlie, stop spinning yarns about me, eh?”

“‘M just trying to sell ya to ‘em, Tom,” his uncle defends.

Thomas isn’t done. He keeps getting in everyone’s face. I really shouldn’t be here! I don’t want him to get more agitated than he already is. But I can’t sneak past Finn without him noticing. He’s pacing now. Like a caged animal.

“But the main thing is, you bunch-a fuckers, despite the provocation from the calvary, no fighting. Oi!” He raises his voice and points to each individual. “No fighting. No fucking fighting. No fighting. No! Fucking! Fighting!”

I think we can all agree that this is extreme, even for Thomas. Are all English weddings this uptight? If it were a wedding back home we’d all be dancing by now. Next to me I feel Finn’s as tense as frozen butter. But at least Thomas is starting to cool down.

“Good.” He backs up just as an unsuspecting hired hand and gives him a shove. “Get the fuck off me!”

So much for no fighting. All the men start laughing and go back to their usual bantering. Maybe I went unseen after all.

“Coast is clear,” Finn whispers. 

“Are you okay?”

He nods repeatedly. “Yup, yup. We all got an earful from Tommy.”

Arthur walks over. “Speaking of, where did Tommy go?”

“Upstairs with Grace,” John says and claps him on the back. “C’mon let’s eat.”

They expect me to follow but I shake my head. “No offense but I’m not staying around for dinner. If the simple drinks and conversing are this awkward I don’t even want to think about what dinner will be like.”

“Oh, come on.” John drags me out of my hiding place and into the ginormous parlor. “For Polly and Ada’s sake.”

I spot the two women conversing in the corner. “They seem fine without me. What about you, Arthur? You’ve been sober this whole time.”

He smiles proudly. “Gave up whiskey. Only the occasional drink. Oh, wait!” He spots someone behind me and walks over with a blonde woman wearing an elegant black dress with a simple cross necklace. “Steenstra, meet Linda. My girl.”

She offers a kind smile. “You are a woman of God as well?”

Oh. Skip straight to that kind of conversation. “Indeed.”

Her smile widens. “Are you Catholic?”

“I am a Christian. My father let my brothers and I choose our own path rather than setting us up in one dominion. In the end we’re all Christians.”

She wants to keep smiling but her eyes don’t agree with my answer. “I see.”

I nod to where Arthur and John are bringing out more wine. “Arthur seems quite happy now. I’m glad you found him.”

“He just needed someone to guide him,” Linda comments. “I love him very much. Do you have a special someone back home?”

There are so many ways I could answer that.

“I thought I had someone special,” I say, avoiding her gaze by taking a sip of whiskey. “But things change.”

“Do you still plan to marry one day?”

What is with this woman? She just met me. Why do weddings always have to make everyone crowd up in everyone else’s private life?

“If I can find the right man.” I shrug. “Or if my family forces me to marry first. I don’t know how much time I’ve got left.”

“I can fix that!”

A hand tugs me away and I’m twirled around to face Ada. Why does she look like she’s up to something?

I pull away and back off slowly with my hands raised. “Ada, no. I have no interest in whatever suitable bachelor you picked out for me. I’m off the table. I’m only here for your family. Now please excuse me.”

Need to find Thomas. Need to find Thomas! Then I can escape this stuffy house and forget all about today. Thank God! Both Grace and Thomas are in the side room with the rest of the gangsters. I can give one big goodbye instead of many individual ones.

“There you are!” Thomas smiles. “We’re- Wait. What’s this?”

Everyone looks as I hand them both the gift basket and hold up my nearly-empty glass to give a quick toast.

“To the bride, to the groom. May your love prosper in the eyes of God. To the Peaky Blinders and the hope you provide.”

I chug the last of my whiskey and slip back into the crowd before they can hold me to another conversation. I’m sick of pretending to be happy. Even if this is supposed to be a special day. As much as I want to join the extravagant celebration my heart just isn’t in for it. My heart feels like it’s about to choke me.

Satisfaction slips through my fingers once again.

@meadows5

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Explain!

Hopping on this open tag by @oh-no-another-idea (here)!

Imma go with Liam Steele and Dylan Millihan from What Lurks In The Hollow because that WIP is my new obsession/hyperfixation lmao

Okay, here we go!

LIAM STEELE

✨ Image ✨

✨ Song ✨

Break Stuff - Limp Bizkit

It's just one of those days when you don't wanna wake up Everything is fucked, everybody sucks You don't really know why, but you wanna justify Rippin' someone's head off No human contact, and if you interact Your life is on contract Your best bet is to stay away, motherfucker! It's just one of those days It's all about the he says/she says bullshit I think you better quit lettin' shit slip Or you'll be leavin' with a fat lip It's all about the he says/she says bullshit I think you better quit talkin' that shit

overwhelmed - Royal & The Serpent

What am I feeling? Can't look at the ceiling The light is so bright It's like I'm overheating This mind isn't mine Who am I to judge? Oh I should be fine But it's all too much I get overwhelmed so easily My anxiety creeps inside of me Makes it hard to breathe What's come over me Feels like I'm somebody else I get overwhelmed so easily My anxiety keeps me silent When I try to speak What's come over me Feels like I'm somebody else I get overwhelmed All of these faces Who don't know what space is And crowds are shut down

✨ Quote ✨

Liam fidgeted with his charm bracelet for a moment, in a compulsive, anxious rhythm, before taking a deep breath and closing his hands into fists, glaring at the bullies cluttering the street. "I don't think any of you motherfuckers heard me right, so Imma repeat myself - if you don't let go of that damn kid and get the fuck out of my way, I swear to fucking God I will bash your heads on the curb" He gave them a sharp, almost condescending smile, "And that's mostly because you're making me late for the arcade and I don't like that. Does that sound all good or do you need any more goddamn details?"

DYLAN MILLIHAN

✨ Image ✨

✨ Song ✨

Breakaway - Kelly Clarkson

Grew up in a small town And when the rain would fall down I'd just stare out my window Dreaming of what could be And if I'd end up happy I would pray Trying hard to reach out But when I tried to speak out Felt like no one could hear me Wanted to belong here But something felt so wrong here So I prayed I could breakaway I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky And I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change And breakaway

Fast Car - Tracy Chapman/Luke Combs

You got a fast car I want a ticket to anywhere Maybe we make a deal Maybe together we can get somewhere Any place is better Starting from zero got nothing to lose Maybe we'll make something Me, myself, I got nothing to prove You got a fast car I got a plan to get us outta here I been working at the convenience store Managed to save just a little bit of money Won't have to drive too far Just 'cross the border and into the city You and I can both get jobs And finally see what it means to be living ... So I remember when we were driving, driving in your car Speed so fast it felt like I was drunk City lights lay out before us And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder And I-I had a feeling that I belonged I-I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

✨ Quote ✨

"Look, none of us asked for this. But whether we like it or not, we're siblings and we're stuck together. More than ever, unfortunately, as much as I loathe to admit it. So we need to make this" He gestures around them, gaze lingering at the, well, still quite decrepit living room of the house, before settling back on Amy, "work out for us, somehow. And we need to stop being at each other's throats all the time - which, by the way, um, I'm..." It seemed physically difficult for him to say the words that were stuck in his throat, but eventually, he sighed and droned out the phrase, earnestly "...sorry for all the stuff I said. I was just really tired and angry, but I shouldn't have said all of that. None of this mess is your fault, and I don't think you're a bad sister, like at all. You're a great kiddo."

Dylan paused unsure of what to say next, but when he noticed that Amy wasn't frowning or sulking anymore but actually smiling softly in agreement, his uneasiness seemed to fade into what could almost be a smile too. "Anyways, let's cut the emotional crap before I feel sick to my stomach more than I already feel. Do you want some more cereal?"

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @wyked-ao3, @topazadine @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid @thecomfywriter

@thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @amaiguri

@cherrychiplip @thecomfywriter @thelovelymachinery @bookwormclover

@differentnighttale, @leahnardo-da-veggie

[seenoversundown]

Amongst The Stars: Chapter Five

Josh x Quinn (Nonbinary OC)

Warnings: Misgendering, Shitty partner, Josh being disgustingly sweet. 

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Josh has always loved love,  and he's finally found it. Buuuut, he can't exactly tell anyone. Join him as he navigates the ins and outs of his sweet, secret romance.

Author's Note: I am so sorry this chapter took a while to get out, I fought with myself a lot about it because it’s filler, hence the small word count, but it’s filler of Josh being a little lovestruck sweetie pie. So, I hope you enjoy it. Next week’s chapter is much meatier. Thank you all for being patient with me. 

Then I look at you And the world's alright with me Just one look at you And I know it's gonna be A lovely day - Lovely Day, Bill Withers

I get up from the table Quinn and I shared mere moments ago and make my way to the parking lot. I should have gotten their number before they left. I don’t know how I’ll be able to focus on anything else when I know they may be fighting with their partner, and I can’t check on them. I sigh and hop into my truck. I attempt to push those thoughts out of my head, because I know it’s out of my hands. Even if Quinn did have my number, who’s to say I would be the one they would come to with their troubles? They love Willa so much that they’d obviously go to her first. Regardless, I don’t have time to dissect any of this. I have to head to the farmer’s market. Jake hasn’t directly asked me to pick anything up for the bar, but I made a list of a few items before I left this morning. I want to take some of the stress off him. He cares so much for everyone around him but will hardly accept it when anyone else sits and fusses over him. 

I slowly turn onto the gravel drive leading up to the parking lot of the farmer’s market, slamming my truck in park and running through my mental list of items I’ll need to hunt for. Lemons, Eggs, Fresh Bread, maybe something crafty. My eyes pan over to the flower booth, and I see none other than Miss Willa in the flesh, off paper. I take in her slightly windswept brown bob and perfectly cool outfit that she had undoubtedly spent a while agonizing over this morning. Good God, Quinn really did capture her perfectly in their sketchbook. Without a second thought, I beeline directly for her. Maybe I can make an excellent first impression with her. Why do I care what Willa thinks? It’s not like Quinn will like me more if I’m nice to their friend who doesn’t know me. “Hello, Dear,” I clear my throat and step up to speak to her. She gives me a once over before quirking one eyebrow in an annoyed gesture for me to continue. “I just wanted to stop and tell you that you’re absolutely breathtaking.” She rolls her eyes, but a small smile overtakes her lips. “Thank you. I’m glad to see there’s at least one decent person that comes to the farmer’s market.”

What could she possibly mean by that? Everyone here is lovely. “Anyway, I gotta scoot. Photos aren’t gonna take themselves,” she points to the camera she has on a strap around her neck. Oh, Sam would love her.  “Goodbye, miss. Perhaps we’ll meet again at a different time.” 

I turn on my heel and head immediately for Linda’s booth. When I get there, Linda’s back is turned to me as she rifles through the totes sitting on the table behind her. I pause to admire the little trinkets she has sitting for sale. 

“Linda, Darling,” I start, chuckling a little bit as she jumps before turning around, “You are underselling yourself. You could charge at least $2 more for these!”  “Joshua,” She places a hand to her heart, feigning shock, “you nearly gave an old woman a heart attack. Are you proud of yourself?” “Very!” I place the hand-sewn pot holder back on the table in front of me.  “Haven’t seen you at the tavern lately. Is there something I should know?” “Oh, yes, dear. I’ve begun seeing a man, and he is taking up all my time.” I stare blankly at her, knowing she’s lying. We would have been the first to know if she were seeing a new man. She would have brought him in to see if we could scare him off. “Lin,” I start, “Please be serious. I know you better than that.” She lets out a small chuckle before shrugging her shoulders. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve had a stroke of inspiration and been busy making new things for the booth.” I look down at the table and spot a few new items I’ve never seen before. “Well, they’re stunning, dear. But Sam misses you. I miss you. You gotta come back to the bar soon.” She nodded and shooed me away, clearly over my antics.  “What if I wanted to buy something?” I pout at her. “You know your money’s no good here,” she rolls her eyes at me. I huff, picking up a set of pot holders. “Can I at least buy you a drink the next time you're in Caravel?”  “Fine. Now scoot, you're scaring away potential customers.” I chuckle and begin to walk away when I hear her call back out, “Oh, and Josh… You seem happier. Don’t let me forget to grill you about that later.” “Yes, ma’am.”

I begin to weave through the farmer’s market, stopping at a few different stalls to pick up the items from my list. I get distracted by one stall specifically that sells art supplies. I’ve always known this stall was here but never thought to check it out—it seems a bit silly since I work at Hobby Lobby. I stopped today because my eyes were drawn to a small display of leather roll-up pencil cases. They were hand-stamped in varying designs. I picked up the first one that caught my eye, a deep brown sheepskin with a gold foil geometric pattern embossed on the front. 

Quinn. 

“Excuse me,” I interrupt the employee, noting the embossing station set up in the back corner of the booth, “do you do personalizations?” “Yes, we do, sir.” She responds with a smile.  “Perfect! Can I get a name added to the bottom corner here?” I point out the free space along the right edge.  “Of course! Do you want it gilded as well?”  I nod, write down the details, and hand my debit card to the employee without even checking the price.  “This shouldn't take very long at all, and I'm sure,” she holds the piece of paper out in front of her, reading the name, “Quinn will love this.” 

I smile and let my fingers flit over the rest of their items, biding time while Quinn’s gift is prepared. Oh, I hope they love it. I hope they don't think I'm insane for this. After a few moments, the employee hands the pencil case back to me. 

“You don't have to pick any up today, but this will eventually require a leather conditioner to keep the leather soft and bendable.”  “I’ll make sure to pick some up. Thank you!”  I throw the case into my canvas tote, along with the other goodies I picked up, and head back to my truck, unable to keep the smile off my face the entire way home. 

I pull into the parking lot of the bar and grab the tote bag from my front seat, slinging it over my arm as I hop out of the driver’s side. I let out a small giggle to myself, thinking about how shocked Jake is going to be when I come in with items for the bar. I slowly begin making my way to the front door, praying that no one is inside so I can halfway dish with Jake. I didn’t see any cars in the parking lot, but as we all know, that doesn’t mean a whole hell of a lot if it’s a bar you’re walking into. 

I kick the door to the tavern open, shoving my way inside and immediately locking eyes on Jake. “Honey, I’m home!” I see Jake just shake his head and continue on with wiping down the bar top. I roll my eyes at him. He always seems to be moving, always cleaning, always taking care of something. He never leaves time for small enjoyments, or breaks, or even (my favorite activity) people watching. I worry about how he may get burnt out, he loves this bar and I don’t want anything to stand in the way of that. “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” He breaks my chain of thought with a light chuckle. “Sorry, kiddo,” he scoffs at my nickname for him, “I had shit to do today.” I shake my bag from the farmer’s market for emphasis, before sitting on one of the stools in front of him and sliding it over to him. I busy myself on my phone while he looks through the items I bought for him. I wonder if I could find Quinn on Instagram. No, that’s insane. They didn’t give you their socials, don’t go hunting for them. I scrub one hand down my face, letting out a sigh. The thoughts are loud today. “Hey, Bub?” Jake asks, holding in a laugh. “Mm?” “I don’t think this is for me,” he fully laughs at that. I look up from my phone, eyes widening as I see that he’s holding my gift for Quinn in his hand. “Quite right, Kiddo. Hand it over, please.” “Who’s this for?” He turns it over in his hand, clocking the name I had embossed on the front of it. “A friend,” I offer no further information. “Cute, I wasn’t aware you had those. Especially one named Quinn,” He winks, “Or is this the person you told me about the other day?” I look around the bar, seeing one person sitting off in the corner wearing a Boston Red Sox hat, and I lower my voice. “Yeah. I, uh, actually had coffee with them this morning before I hit the farmer’s market.” “Why are you whispering?” “You never know who’s listening,” I shrug. Jake rolls his eyes in response, but gestures for me to continue. “I went down to Higher Grounds, you know, to work on my writing, and they were just…There. It felt like some kind of divine intervention or something.” “You are far too romantic for your own good,” he lets out a laugh. “I’m not romantic, it’s just– what are the odds?” “The odds of two queer people running into each other at a weed cafe? Pretty high, I’d guess.”

I reach over the bar, attempting to wrap my arm around his neck to get him in a headlock, but he dodges it. “Gotta try harder than that, bub,” he adds, putting further distance between us.  I roll my eyes, but settle back into my seat before continuing. “We just sat together, and they told me about their job and we shared our art. Quinn is such a beautiful artist, “ I sigh, recognizing how pathetic I probably sound, “and so, I saw the pencil case and I picked it up.” “And asked them to customize it,” Jake raised an eyebrow. “Sue me, their partner sucks. I wanted to do something nice.”“Mhmmmm” 

Before I can add anything else, the person in the corner of the bar slams their hands down on the table, drawing mine and Jake’s attention. I watch as he slowly removes his ball cap, revealing his face. “Josh,” he smirks, “If you’re worried about people overhearing you, maybe you should learn how to actually whisper.” Fucking Craig. Really? Is he stalking me? “Oh, how nice to see you again, Greg,” I let out a mirthless chuckle, “How are you enjoying your time in Caravel Tavern?” “The company leaves much to be desired, curious if the owner knows what kind of people his workers let run around in here.” Jake clears his throat next to us and my face breaks out into a wicked smile. God, I can’t wait to hear how this goes. He cuts a mischievous glance in my direction before sticking his hand out to introduce himself to Craig. “Jake Kiszka,” he grabs Craig’s hand, shaking it with a bit more force than necessary, “owner.” Craig’s eyes go wide as he pulls his hand from Jake’s grasp, flexing his fingers. “Woah,” he says, stunned, “You guys look alike.” Jake and I make eye contact, a silent conversation passing between us. Is this dude for real? Shockingly yes, he is an absolute buffoon.  Jake rolls his eyes and we both burst out in laughter. This has to be the first time in our entire lives that someone did not immediately clock us as twins. “You think we look alike? Really?” I say, fake excitement riddling my voice, “Can you believe it, Jake?” “I know, I don’t really see it, myself.” Craig’s eyes dart between us, a look of confusion muddling his features. I almost see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure it out. “Don’t hurt yourself there, big guy,” Jake snorts, “we’re twins.” “Oh, so there’s two of you.” “Indeed,” I flash him a grin. “Do I have to worry about you coming after my girlfriend too, buying her presents?”

I watch as Jake finally puts two and two together, after I neglected to fully introduce him to Craig moments ago. He sends me a look that I interpret to mean is this the guy? I nod at him, and a hint of anger flashes across his face. 

“Oh, I know who you are,” he starts, then cuts himself off. I see Jake calculate his next steps. His mind warring between tearing into Craig on my, and Quinn’s, behalf and maintaining the air of a dutiful bar owner. Bar owner won. “I’m going to cut you off, bud. Pay your tab and get out.” Craig huffs, but slams a $20 bill on the counter. “Keep the change, Jake. Surely you need it.” “Planned on it regardless, call it the Asshole Tax,” he turns away from Craig, moving to the cash register. He turns back to Craig and hands him the, unnecessary, receipt. “Oh, and tell Quinn that Josh says ‘Hello.’” Anger overtakes Craig’s features and I watch with mild interest as he curls and uncurls his fist a few times, before ultimately deciding better of trying anything with Jake. He turns without a word and rushes out the front door of the bar. Finally, when the bell above the door stops tinkling, I look toward Jake. My younger brother, always ready to protect me from the world. It seems silly, but I feel a tear well in my eye, thinking about how many times he has gone to bat for me. Thinking about how many times he has put his neck out just to ensure that I don’t have to. As if understanding where my thoughts had drifted to, he walks out from behind the bar, claps a hand on my shoulder and pulls me in for a quick hug. 

“Thank you,” I whisper. “It’s nothing.” “I tried to do something nice for you today, and you still ended up saving my ass.” Jake chuckles and pulls away, looking toward the discarded bag on the bar. “Well, you saved me from having to run out and get eggs before our evening rush. So, thank you.”

He pats my shoulder again, before turning and walking back to his office and I take it as my cue to leave. I pick up Quinn’s present, absentmindedly rubbing the leather between my fingers as I head up to the apartment above the bar. 

We’ll see where this goes…

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[keeryhours]

stop the stars chapter two - billy hargrove

Billy Hargrove x female OC Katelyn Henderson, some Steve Harrington x Katelyn

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Billy Hargrove Masterlist

Summary:

Katelyn and her friends spend Saturday at the mall. They run into someone unexpected.

Chapter Warnings:

None

Word Count: 2,565

A/N:

Finally got part 2 out! I’m looking forward to writing more of this series. I hope you guys are into it! Your comments and messages on all my stories have meant the world to me <3

And shout out to @losingmygrasponreality for being the first person to request to be on the tag list :) I appreciate you!

—

When Katelyn woke the next morning with the most intense headache of her life, she regretted all her life choices.

She groaned, her mouth dry and tasting terrible. She opened her eyes, the light through her window making her squint. When she was able to fully open her eyes, she noticed a glass of water and 2 pain killers laying on her nightstand. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized Steve must have done that for her when he carried her to bed last night.

She was also dressed in her pajamas, and she blushed thinking about how Steve had to have gotten her changed.

She drank the water and took the pills before she climbed out of her bed, shuffling out of her room and to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth immediately, desperate to get rid of the taste of alcohol from her mouth. When she was done, she started the shower, hopping in and letting the hot water wash away some of the fogginess of her head.

Billy.

She had met him last night. She had talked to him. Did he offer to leave the party with her or had she dreamt that?

He had been just as gorgeous as everyone had said. And intimidating. The way he held eye contact was nothing like she had ever experienced before. The way he touched her so confidently when they didn’t even know each other.

She found her mind wandering as she showered. She daydreamed about what it would have been like if she had gone home with him.

She shook those thoughts from her head quickly.

Someone started pounding on the bathroom door.

“Hurry up in there!” Dustin yelled. “You’ve been in there for forever!”

Katelyn rinsed the conditioner from her hair. She had been almost done anyway. She shut the water off and got out, wrapping a towel around her body and one around her hair.

“You’re so impatient,” she mumbled as she pushed the bathroom door open, walking past her little brother.

“You were in there for like an hour!” Dustin yelled before going into the bathroom and slamming the door.

She felt like that was an exaggeration, but whatever.

In her room, she dried herself off and dressed in a short skirt and a new top she had just bought. She did her hair and some makeup. It was Saturday, and she was planning to go to the mall with Chrissy and Heather.

Heather pulled up in front of the Henderson house an hour later, honking the horn. Katelyn grabbed her purse and ran out of her room, shutting the door hard behind her.

“Later,” she said to both her mom sitting on the couch in the living room and Dustin making a sandwich in the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” her mother asked, turning to look at her with concern. Her mom always worried too much and could be overprotective, which is why she resorted to sneaking out most of the time.

“Mall,” she answered quickly. “With Heather and Chrissy. I’ll be back later. Love you!”

She walked out of the house and closed the front door behind her before her mom could try to mess with her plans. She loved her mom, but she could definitely be a bit much.

“Heyyy!” Heather greeted, drawing out the word, as Katelyn slid into the passenger seat.

“Hey gorgeous,” Katelyn greeted her friend back, grinning at her. Cyndi Lauper played softly over the radio, and she turned it up, the two girls singing obnoxiously together as they drove to pick up Chrissy.

The three girls pulled up to the mall not long later. Apparently everyone else had the same idea today, because the parking lot of Starcourt was packed.

They walked through the parking lot, giggling over something that had happened at Tina’s party last night. Katelyn took their word for it since she was too drunk to remember, which only made them laugh harder.

They stepped on the concrete walkway in front of the mall entrance just as a car blaring loud rock music raced into the parking lot, pulling up right where they had been walking moments ago. They spun around.

A blue Camaro had pulled up right against the curb next to them. The passenger door opened and an angry looking young girl with red hair climbed out, clutching a skateboard under her arm.

“I’ll be back here in an hour, don’t make me wait for you,” the driver said, sounding equally as annoyed as he spoke around a cigarette. That’s the first time she took in the face of the man behind the wheel.

Billy.

Katelyn’s blood ran cold when she saw Billy Hargrove behind the wheel of the muscle car. He was dressed in jeans with a denim jacket over a white t shirt, sunglasses on his face, blonde curls tousled from the wind.

“Yeah, whatever,” the girl mumbled, walking around the front of the car towards the mall entrance.

Billy’s head trailed her as she walked across, until he was facing the entrance and his eyes landed on her. There were two other girls with her, too, but he only saw her.

A smirk grew across his lips as they looked at each other, and he took his cigarette from his lips, holding it between his fingers instead. The red head disappeared into the mall.

“Well, well,” Billy drawled, seeming much more amused than he had moments ago. “Kate, huh?”

Katelyn blushed deeply as she felt Heather’s and Chrissy’s eyes on her. “Yeah,” she confirmed, not sure what else to say.

“I barely recognized you without the teased hair and that sexy dress,” he said, looking all too cocky. “What are you doing?”

“We’re just going shopping,” she answered, feeling like the answer was lame for some reason.

Billy chuckled, taking another drag from his cigarette. There was a long pause as he inhaled, blowing the smoke out the window in their direction. “Kate, I have a question for you.”

Her eyebrows raised, wondering if there was some other Kate around he could be talking to. “Uh…what’s up?”

He waved her over with a smirk, and she nervously approached the open window of the car. He slid the sunglasses off his face, sitting them atop his head as he looked at her with those intense blue eyes.

“I was thinking I could get your number?” he asked smoothly, like he already knew the answer would be yes. “Was thinkin’ maybe I should call you sometime.”

Katelyn’s heart stuttered in her chest at his question, which made her feel so stupid, because it’s not like she’s never given her number to a guy before, it’s not like she hasn’t done plenty of things with guys before. She couldn’t figure out why Billy had this effect on her that no one else had.

“Uh, sure,” she said at last, Billy’s grin growing wider. “Um, do you have a pen?”

Billy pulled a pen and a napkin out of his glove compartment, handing them to Katelyn. She leaned it against the side of the car, hot from the sun, as she wrote her household number down.

“If it’s my mom, she’ll ask a lot of questions,” she warned, handing him the napkin and pen back. Their fingers brushed together as he took it, sending a jolt through her body as if she’d touched something electric. “Just tell her it’s for a school thing and she’ll leave us alone.”

Billy laughed at that, and he looked at the napkin, like he was committing her number to memory. “Got it,” he said. His gaze moved back to meet hers. “I’ll call you soon.” It felt like a promise.

Katelyn stepped back to her friend group, watching as Billy tore out of the parking lot just as fast as he had come in.

Chrissy and Heather were both silent for a minute as they took in what had just happened.

“Did- did Billy Hargrove just show up out of nowhere and ask for your number?” Heather asked, still in shock.

“Yes!” Chrissy answered for her, half her face taken up by the massive grin on her lips. “Oh my god, Kate.”

The girls began walking into the mall. Katelyn’s fingers still tingled where they had touched his.

“He might not even call me,” she said as they walked, browsing through different stores.

“Uh, of course he will. You’re hot.” Heather practically rolled her eyes at her friend. “Since when do you have no self confidence?”

Katelyn didn’t know. She had never felt this way about a guy before. There was just something about Billy that made her feel unsure of herself, unworthy. She knew that wasn’t true. She’s popular, smart, has lots of friends, has had plenty of boyfriends. But Billy was something else entirely.

The girls spend the day shopping, gossiping, and eventually getting lunch from the food court. They were checking out the last shops in the mall on their way out when they passed the lingerie store.

“Oooh,” Chrissy teased, grabbing onto Katelyn and Heather’s wrists to pull them to a complete stop outside the shop doors. “You should get something for Billy.”

Heather’s face lit up. “Oh my god, yes. You totally should.”

Katelyn rolled her eyes with a groan. “You have not let the Billy thing go all day. He hasn’t even called me yet and you think I should buy lingerie for him?”

Her two friends looked at her like she was stupid.

“He obviously wants to fuck you,” Heather whispered conspiratorially, leaning closer to her friends. “So why not surprise him with something special?”

Katelyn looked over the store, the displays in the window. There was some really cute stuff. And she had always wanted to have a nice lingerie set. She just felt stupid buying it now, having to shove it in the bottom of her underwear drawer and pray her mom doesn’t find it.

But the idea of someone - Billy - peeling her clothes off and finding something sexy like that underneath? She had to admit it was enticing.

“…We can look,” Katelyn conceded, and her friends literally jumped with excitement, pulling her into the store.

Chrissy and Heather were grabbing practically everything off the rack, holding them up to Katelyn’s body before shaking their head and picking a different one. Katelyn thought she was supposed to be the one shopping, but apparently not.

“Oooh,” Chrissy said, picking up a black lace lingerie set with dark red accents. “I think this might be the one.”

She held it up to Katelyn’s body. “Oh yeah. That screams Billy.”

Katelyn snagged the set out of Chrissy’s hand. “You don’t even know Billy.”

Chrissy rolled her eyes. “He’d have to be blind to not love this on you. Go try it on!”

Chrissy and Heather lingered right outside the changing rooms as Katelyn entered a booth, closing the curtain behind her. She stripped her clothes off down to her normal underwear, which was cute, but nothing like this.

She tried on the lingerie set, taking some time to figure out the garters, and then she was looking at herself in the mirror from every angle. She always had a big chest, and she felt like the bra was making her boobs look ridiculous.

“Are you done?” Heather called through the curtain. “Let us see!”

Katelyn pushed the curtain aside, standing in front of her friends in the sexiest underwear she could have possibly been wearing. She struck a pose with her hand on her hip. “What do we think?”

Chrissy’s and Heather’s eyes went wide.

“Girl…” Heather said, as if she were distracted taking in the view.

“You have to buy that,” Chrissy said. “Billy or not, any guy would lose their mind seeing you in that.”

Katelyn looked down at herself, taking in her own appearance again. She wasn’t sure in the mirror, but from her friends’ reactions, she must have looked hot. She debated on it as she re entered the changing room and changed back into her own clothes.

Fully back in her own outfit, she held the skimpy material in her hands. I mean why not, right? She could afford it, and even if nothing happened with Billy, because buying it for Billy felt completely ridiculous, she’d get to wear it sometime.

The girls were excited when Katelyn exited the changing room still holding the set and headed for the checkout counter.

Walking out of the mall, the little pink bag felt like 50 pounds in her hand. It loomed over her as the girls climbed back into Heather’s car.

—

Katelyn laid on her bed that night, doing her homework while listening to Pink Floyd over her speakers. Her math homework was kicking her ass, as usual, but she was slowly but surely figuring it out.

She was interrupted by a rough knock at her door, a huff leaving her lips. She knew it was Dustin because her mother would have knocked once and just walked in.

“What?” she called, annoyed.

“Some guy is on the phone for you,” Dustin yelled through the door, sounding uninterested.

Her brows furrowed. She climbed off her bed, careful not to mess up her work, and opened her door. Dustin was standing there holding the house phone.

She took it from him. “Thanks,” she muttered, and then she was closing the door in his face.

Katelyn brought the phone to her ear. “…Hello?”

“Hey, princess.”

The knot in her stomach clenched tight, her body suddenly feeling cold. “Billy.”

He chucked over the phone, always sounding so dangerous somehow. “You have fun at the mall today, pretty girl?”

She was suddenly struck with the fear of Billy somehow knowing what she had bought, but that was impossible.

“Uh, yeah. We had a good time.”

“Hey, listen,” Billy said, like he was ready to get to the point of the phone call already. He didn’t strike her as a man who liked to waste time. “I was thinkin’ maybe you’d want to go out sometime. Maybe tomorrow night?”

Her eyes went wide. He really was asking her out. This new guy that every girl in school was obsessing over, and he was asking her out.

“That…” she swallowed before she continued. “We could do that.”

Billy laughed over the phone again, the sound sending chills through her body, already barely covered by her tank top and short sleep shorts, her usual pajamas.

“I’ll pick you up at 7, yeah?”

She was ready to jump up and down with excitement, call Chrissy and Heather and tell them the news. She kept her composure instead. “Yeah, sounds great.”

She gave him her address, learning that he didn’t live very far. She found her mind wandering to what she would wear.

“Alright,” Billy said, his low, relaxed voice having some kind of effect on her she couldn’t understand. It sent goosebumps across her arms. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, pretty girl.”

“See you tomorrow,” she had echoed, before the call ended.

She padded out of her room and to the kitchen as if in a daze, placing the phone back on the receiver. The soft click rang through the empty space.

She pushed her curls out of her face as she walked back to her bedroom. It was impossible to focus on math now. She had to plan for tomorrow.

[paninicupcakke]

Why bother? 💉⚾️🎃

(Blunt trauma one shot series)

Tattoo artist! Scout - Freddie

Mourning! Medic - Conrad

(CW: grieving, angst, death of loved ones)

🌹AU context & lore:

🎃

“Sooo…what’re you dressin’ up as this year?” Freddie eagerly asked. Casually sitting on top of the doctor’s desk, making sure not to crush any of his paperwork. Conrad let out a small sigh as he put down his pen. Glancing up at his giddy colleague beside him.

“I’m not celebrating Halloween this year.” Conrad replied while adjusting his glasses. To some that sounded completely reasonable, to the scout those words felt like daggers. That sentence alone was completely out of character for the doctor. Freddie sat there perplexed for a few moments before speaking up.

“Uh…you’re jokin’ right? Halloween’s your favorite holiday.” Scout said in disbelief.

“And? You’re point?” Conrad firmly replied.

“But you love dressin’ up with us. Y-You can’t just bail on the Halloween party!” Freddie persisted while furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry but I’m not going. I am very busy on Halloween night. I could not get the day off of work this year. So why bother dressing up?” Conrad sternly stated with a shrug. The spark in the doctor’s eyes was far from gone.

“Aw, please doc! Can’t you come for just a little bit after work? We can’t have a Halloween party without you. T-That’s like salt without pepper!” Freddie passionately begged. Conrad shook his head.

“Nein. My decision is final. Even if I wasn’t working, I would not dress up.” Conrad bitterly replied. Becoming agitated with this conversation. His tormented mind was under a lot of stress with work, along with grieving he simply had little to no patience lately. Freddie frowned at his response, he sat there looking like a kicked puppy. He reached out to gently pat the doctor’s shoulder. Conrad fidgeted slightly but allowed the soft touch.

“You’re killin’ me doc. Please…don’t you think she would’ve wanted you to have a fun time?” Freddie asked. Conrad snapped at that sentence. Mentioning his beloved, deceased friend quickly flooded his mind with several past Halloween memories. His eyes furrowed as he frantically scanned his desk. Countless small items that Rose had gifted him were scattered throughout his office. His emotions got the best of him and consumed him whole. Conrad swiftly stood up from his desk.

“Of course she would have! But I cannot simply do what I want all the time Scout! LIFE’S NOT FAIR! GET USED TO IT!” Conrad angrily snapped at his colleague. His glaring gaze soon turned into one of despair. Accidentally losing his temper at the one teammate he confided in. Freddie flinched slightly at the doctor’s tone, he hopped off his desk and stood back on his feet. The German’s cheeks were flushed and soon wet. Tears dribbling down his face as he began to speak.

“Freddie wait! D-don’t leave. I’m sorry, I-I did not mean to raise my voice at you.” Conrad quickly apologized. His desperate voice stammered as he choked back his tears. Without much thought, Freddie simply pulled the other man into a warm embrace. Conrad’s eyes widened.

“Don’t worry, I ain’t goin’ no where. It’s gonna take way more than that to get rid of me.” Freddie said while gently patting his back. After hearing those words, Conrad slowly melted into the younger man’s arms. He wasn’t expecting the scout to be so forgiving. His melancholy consumed him completely. The doctor’s black brimmed hat fell to the office floor as he hung his head into the crook of Freddie’s shoulder. Weeping desperately while holding onto his lanky colleague. Both men slowly began sinking onto the cold, tile floor. Sat with their others arms wrapped around each other. Freddie nuzzled in close, allowing the doctor to cry as much as needed.

“Y-You’re the one who told me to not let that child inside of you die. Everyone else can be miserable and kill off their childhood but I won’t! Life frickin’ sucks! The least we can do is dress up and pretend to be someone else for one goddamn day.” Freddie passionately explained as tears rolled down his cheeks. He held tightly onto Conrad, beginning to sniffle himself. The German let those words sink in while gently caressing the back of scout’s head. He suddenly reached up and grabbed the tissue box on the edge his desk. Plucking several tissues out and dispersing them to each other. A saddened grin crept across his cheeks, he took a deep breath before speaking.

“I-I’ll dress up…if only for you.” Conrad stammered. He then began to gently clean up the young man’s tears. Taking some responsibility for making the scout cry as well. Freddie sniffled with a bashful and sad smile.

“Good. I-It ain’t just for me y’know. Didn’t she like Halloween too?” Freddie asked. Glancing up at the small framed picture on the doctor’s desk. A photo of the elderly woman alongside Conrad, both smiling while sat on the bus together. Conrad took in a shaky breath before replying.

“Yes. She sewed a couple of mein past costumes.” Conrad said while taking his glasses off and setting them up onto his desk. Both men slowly began to stand back up. Conrad continued blowing his nose and cleaning himself up with several tissues. Freddie suddenly pulled the doctor into a side hug, wrapping his arm around his waist. Resting his head on taller man’s shoulder while looking down at the photo.

“I-I never met her but she sounds like a really cool lady from what you’ve told me.” Freddie said followed by a small sniffle. Conrad nodded his head.

“She was.” Conrad stammered with a sad grin. He trembled slightly before completely breaking down again. He suddenly grabbed the young man by his shirt and pulled him back into a tight embrace. Freddie witnessed the doctor’s loud, sorrowful groaning. It was difficult to hear his beloved friend hurting so much. He quickly wrapped both arms around him and rubbed his back continuously.

☁️🚌

“You’re always on about that young man. I’d bite the bullet soon and ask him on a date if I were you. Doesn’t have to be nothin’ fancy y’know. Rose said with a grin. Handing Conrad back a photograph of all of the BLU team mercenaries together. Conrad let out an anxious sigh, glancing up from the picture to look out the bus’s window momentarily.

“I-I don’t know if he even likes men. On top of that, I-I’m not exactly built like the average man.” Conrad nervously replied. Referring to one of his biggest secrets about himself that only Rose knew about.

“You’ll never know if you don’t ask.” Rose said with a small shrug.

“I-I can’t do that. That’s not professional. He’s seven years younger than I am, it wouldn’t be right.” Conrad admitted bashfully. Sticking the photograph of his colleague’s back into his work bag.

“You two see each other after work don’t you? Ask him then.” Rose bluntly suggested.

“It’s not that simple.” Conrad said with a small frown. The bus had suddenly come to a full stop. The elderly woman grabbed her purse and stood up slowly. Several other bus passengers had quickly passed by her. Rose gazed down at her beloved travel companion.

“Well, it is that simple. The least you can do is try. If you don’t at least ask him, you’ll live to regret it. Trust me.” Rose firmly stated. Conrad listened intently, letting out a small sigh.

“I’ll try to…eventually.” Conrad shyly promised. Rose grinned and lightly patted the man’s shoulder.

“Good. Now you have a good day at work. I’ve gotta get going, my soaps are about to start.” Rose said with a chipper grin. Conrad snickered.

“Auf wiedersehen.” Conrad said with a small wave goodbye. Rose waved back and began walking down the aisle, exiting the bus. Conrad sat there pondering, debating on wether to take her advice.

☁️

[thegvlaxyrvanger]

Hi, hello!! I found your blog through dead-dove's blog, and I was wondering if you would take a request for Katherine, your idol oc x yandere reader?

It's nice to meet you, I'm "💌 anon"!

~ 💌

GALAXY RANGER'S NOTES ;;

☆. Hey there 💌 anon !! Glad to meet you as well !! :] I just woke up to this earlier and I'm really happy that this is my first ever request and ask <D (I also changed her entire information, her name is now Shimizu Mei.)

☆. Sorry if this took really long, procrastination has been sticking with me these past 3 days. (You could pretty much tell that I got pretty lazy at the very end.)

✧. Taglist (Lmk if you want to be added!) ;

- @dead-dove-yandere

- @love-letter-exe

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𖥔. ♡ KATHERINE -— An Idol and Her Number One Fan. PART 1.

𖥔. ♡ Pairing -— Female Popular Idol x Yandere ! GN Fan

TWs : This story contains dark topics such as Stalking, Obsession, Non-consensual Photography, Obsession, Implied NSFW (Masturbation), Implied Murder, Kidnapping, Drugging, etc. Please proceed with caution. Minors DNI.

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You weren't exactly a huge fan of idols, not that you don't like them or that you're just trying to be different from millions of people hopping onto the bandwagon, it's just that their songs aren't the type of music that you would obsessively listen to 24/7, you like listening to a lot of songs and have favorites as well, but their songs just doesn't really stick to your taste.

Your friends on the other hand are basically on the opposite side of your coin, they absolutely LOVE idols and are basically just head on heels for them, each having their own preferences, you would mostly see them talking about their favorites non-stop, they could ramble about their bias to you for hours, so it isn't really surprising that they're basically one of those crazy insane and down bad fans, in which sometimes they even argue on which one is better, it's kind of annoying really.

They always drag you to their favorite idol's concert whenever they have the chance to and have a LOT of merch from them, from posters, to t-shirts, jackets, plushies, etc., you name it. You couldn't quite grasp why they would spend a lot of money just for some poster.

As for you, well, all that you could do is listen to their ramblings about their favorites and drag you to concerts, and to be honest, it kind of feels like they're pretty much shoving their interests into your face, but you don't really mind, actually, it's quite fun because you're hanging out with your friends and are just spending time with each other, nothing more.

But now? You finally get why.

You finally get why people would go crazy insane for someone who probably wouldn't even notice them.

Though, gazing at them from afar, screaming their name, and having lots and lots of merch from them, isn't enough to be honest for you to prove that you're their number one fan. It doesn't really make you feel a sense of, fulfillment, really.

You need to go through more..

Drastic and intense measures, just for you to prove it.

Of course, you know that this is too much, you're being crazy and this could lead to consequences that could be life-long, but it would be worth it in the end,

ŗ̲̯͕͎ͮ́͟͝͞͞i̮̭̭͙g͖̩͕̱ͦ͋ͤ́ͦ̾ḩ̲͍ͯ̒ͨ̄͌ͣ̚͝͡ţ̴̴̳̜͗ͩ̓̾ͨ̃ͪ͐̀̚͠͏?̸̵̫͈͙͖̠̫̖͌ͪ̿̉̆́͘͠

—

Recently, your friends have started talking about one specific idol, not the ones that they used to talk about, and as usual, they seem to be very crazy down bad for him, or her. You find it very strange and you feel really confused but also somewhat curious. Who are they talking about, exactly?

While the three of you were at a café, hanging out as usual, you find them talking about this idol again, curiosity got the better of you, and you then asked which idol were they talking about.

“Oh, you haven't heard? There's a new idol rolling around and her popularity has almost immediately skyrocketed, it's only been 3 days! I already get why because she's soooooooooo pretty and very cuuuteeee!! You should check the recent news article and her account!” One of your friends then said, as they gave you the said idol's account, this only made your curiosity grow bigger, and have eventually decided to search her account up later. You eventually find yourself talking to your friends about that idol, your curiosity getting bigger and bigger the more information about her you collect from your friends, it was unusual for you, really. But you don't really seem to care at all.

After sometime, you and your friends then parted ways, and while on your way back to your apartment, you eventually searched up her account, and holy hell, your friends were right, she is pretty and cute.

You were absolutely enthralled with her beautiful and dazzling appearance. You felt yourself getting engulfed, and eventually you decided to stalk her account.

She goes by “Shimizu Mei” on her account, a pretty brunette who's half-japanese, half-, wears Jirai Kei and Gyaru fashion, and her singing voice is absolutely stunning. You already forgot that you already walked past your apartment because of how submerged you are to her pretty looks and voice.

You then realize what you've been doing after what felt like forever and eventually snapped back to reality, you then hit and laughed to yourself quietly, you felt stupid for walking past your apartment.

But you also felt confused, what's wrong with you? This is very unusual of you, really. You've.. never felt like this before, you've never liked an idol before, and most importantly, you never would've thought that you'd actually be a fan of one, but it's not like you don't want to stop and restrain yourself, while you weren't exactly expecting this, you eventually just accepted it, you like her, you've become her fan, and that's that.

At least, that's what you initially thought.

As weeks pass by, your friends gradually start to notice that you seem to be, very fixated on the recent popular idol, Mei, not that they mind about it, it's just getting quite concerning on how much you like her.

You would only talk to them if it's about, her. If they try to change the topic by talking about another idol, you'd get really mad. They tried to calm you down by telling you to chill talking about her for a moment and just talk about something else instead, which only made you get even more mad. They found it very strange, you weren't like this a few weeks ago, what happened to you?

—

You only found yourself getting even more obsessed with the idol as days and weeks pass by. When you found out that she's hosting a meet-and-greet near your city, you immediately thought that you HAD to go with your friends since they told you that they were going as well.

The day of the meet-and-greet arrived, and oh boy this crowd was absolutely yet unsurprisingly really huge. You and your friends don't even know what was going on except for the fact that everyone was going batshit crazy while security was trying to calm everyone down, yet it was no use.

Amidst the crowd, you then saw her glance at you.

Yes, you.

As soon as you immediately noticed that she glanced at you for a mere second, your heart almost instantly stopped for a moment. You felt like you were about to fucking burst right then and there! As the voices of your friends calling out for your name in the middle of the crowd fell on deaf ears, not realizing that you were lost before you eventually snap back into reality, realized what was going on as you tried to find your friends while you steal a few glances back at the idol, who's sweet honey-like voice helped the security calm the crowd down.

Gosh, her voice is so fucking intoxicating.

After a while of waiting which seemed like forever to you, you finally get to see her.

In front of you, face-to-face.

Fucking god, was she trying to kill you? Was she trying to hypnotize you with that pretty little head of hers? Did she pull a spell on you or something? What the hell did she fucking do to you?

From her soft locks, to the most sweetest smile that you've ever seen from someone, to her outfit wear, to literally everything.

She's just practically begging for you to doll her up at this point.

...

!

“...- Eh .. -Ah ?- H-hello? Sweetheart -..? Are you even listening -?” she then said, snapping her fingers at your face, you eventually snap back into reality once more as you eventually find yourself frantically and repeatedly apologizing to her.

“No need to apologize, my dear ~ Would you like to take a picture with me, ? Or an autograph ? Just let me know sweetie !” She then replied, you found yourself a little lost in words as you then realized that she called you a pet name, your face turning into a bright, crimson shade of red as you eventually told her that you would just like to take a photo with her.

After the photoshoot with her, she then gave you the photo, signed it, and waved goodbye to you and your friends with a sweet smile on her face. Eventually you and your friends said your goodbyes to one another as you three parted ways.

...

It wouldn't be so bad to go back,

Take a picture of her,

And follow her on her way back,

...

Right?

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[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 30 of 35 | masterpost

word count: 2563 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

Would being close to him still hurt if I weren't in mourning for everything I had lost? Would it still burn if there were no obstacles between us, no moral and painful restrictions preventing me from allowing myself to get lost in his embrace, his kisses, his touch? Did he know that I loved him, with a certainty as vast and bright as the sun? Did I want to make sure he did?

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle

✦ a/n: hi, guys! just wanted to let everyone know that as promised, I'll start posting these last few parts twice a week - on Mondays and then on Thursdays or Fridays, depending on how much free time I have. Hope you enjoy this one, feedback is welcome! 🖤

✧ you can blame it on the stars, you can tell it to the moon / baby, I used to be good but I went bad for you / you can try and escape me but I came for you ✧

"Thanks, Amsterdam! You guys rocked!" James shouted, a massive grin plastered on his face, eyes lit up with sheer excitement as the pumped-up crowd went wild with applause.

I couldn't help but crack a smile at the scene – James, Lars, Kirk, and Cliff showing their appreciation in those closing moments of the gig. It hit me then; I had missed this, the thrill, the carefree laughs, that electric buzz running through me. Snagging another beer from the cooler stashed at the stage corner, I trailed backstage, tagging along with Leanne and Pat.

Pretty soon, the guys sauntered in, all laughter and loud banter. Cliff led the charge into the dressing room, a damp towel draped around his shoulders and a joint already fired up. He shot us a grin before chiming in:

"Not too shabby for our first gig away from home, huh?"

"You guys killed it, as usual." Leanne beamed, striding over. She wrapped her arms around Cliff's neck, going up on tiptoes to plant a kiss on him. He chuckled, giving her a tight squeeze, and I couldn't help but smile at the sweet scene.

"We kicked ass!" Lars cheered, grinning from ear to ear. He whipped out a bottle of vodka from the mystery depths of wherever and began pouring shots. "Now, it's drinkin' time, and we're gonna soak in some Venom. Fucking Venom, man!"

"Think they'll autograph my guitar?" Kirk joked, laughing, as he swiftly downed his vodka shot. I chuckled, genuinely pumped, and joined in, pouring myself a shot of vodka. I glanced up when I sensed a weight on my shoulders – there was James, slinging an arm around me before snagging a vodka glass for himself.

"You're all sweaty," I scrunched up my face, and he just laughed, knocking back his vodka shot in one go.

"Wanna hop in the shower with me?" he teased in a husky chuckle, giving my cheek a quick kiss before sauntering off to join Pat. I stood there, dumbfounded, my face burning as I touched the spot on my cheek still tingling from his lips.

The guys headed for a shower break while the stage got prepped for the night's main event. Leanne joined Cliff in the shower, but Pat and I hung back in the dressing room. We polished off the vodka bottle while I enjoyed a smoke, chatting quietly.

"So, how's the tour life treating you?" I tossed out, more to fill the quiet air than anything else. Ever since I had ditched my gig at the record store after splitting with Dave, Pat and I hadn't talked at all. Now, seeing her all cozy with James felt a bit off. I couldn't shake off Leanne's words, about Pat maybe digging the idea of James more than the real deal of who he was.

"Oh, it's been fucking amazing!" she beamed, eyes gleaming as she popped open another beer. Her slightly rosy cheeks betrayed how intoxicated she was. "James has been dragging me to all sorts of gigs since we started dating. Bummer you've been missing out lately."

"Well, I'm here now," I flashed a smile, attempting to mask my unease. Thankfully, I wasn't stuck in the conversation for too long; a quick guitar chord played, signaling that Venom’s gig was kicking off. I rose with a smile that might've been just a bit forced. "The show's starting. Want to catch it?"

"I'll wait for James," she smiled, and I gave a nod before ducking out of the dressing room.

I hadn't taken more than a few steps down the corridor when I collided with James, heading the other way, shirtless, and holding yet another half-full bottle of vodka. A surprised sound escaped me as he snagged me by the waist, pulling me in with a grin the moment he spotted me.

"Hey, sweetheart. I was waitin' for you in the shower, you know?" he whispered in my ear, followed by a low chuckle. I knitted my brows, fighting off the way his voice sent my heart racing, and gave him a shove.

"James, are you out of your mind?" I grumbled, and he laughed, releasing me. "You fucking drunkard."

He just stuck out his tongue, taking another swig from the vodka bottle before strolling back toward the dressing room. I debated whether to trail after him, to coax him into some water to sober up, but then it hit me that Pat was still there, waiting. Suddenly, the buzz and beats from the stage sounded way more inviting; last thing I needed was to be alone in a room with Pat, James, and no one else.

The show was insane, just like I’d expected. Venom's tunes were fast and intense, and the hype from my friends definitely drowned out any worries I might've had. I couldn't give two cents that neither James nor Pat bothered to show up for the gig; right then, nothing and no one could ruin my mood.

There wasn't much time for a post-Venom celebration; in a flash, the gear was packed, and the producer corralled us onto the bus for the next city. As a last-ditch effort, we all got handed water to help shake off the buzz. It did the trick better for some than others; Cliff and Leanne seemed pretty chill, but I was starting to feel a bit queasy, and Lars and Kirk were cackling like a couple of goofballs, while James showed up being practically carried by one of the roadies. Pat stormed past the chaos, looking royally pissed, and hopped on the bus without saying a word to anyone. I ambled over, curious.

"Hey, what happened?" I inquired, but that just triggered another round of laughter from Lars and Kirk. I turned my gaze to James, who was seated on the sidewalk, sipping water with a seriously annoyed look on his face. "Everything alright?"

"You have no idea," Lars managed to say, trying to catch his breath between laughs. "James, spill it."

I shifted my focus to James, now intrigued. He glanced up at me and then shrugged with a grunt.

"Pat wanted to fuck… And I puked on her."

"You did what? " I exclaimed, incredulous, while Kirk and Lars cracked up even louder. James scowled, clearly annoyed by their reaction, but truth be told, I couldn't blame them. I was trying to stifle my own laughter, a goofy grin stubbornly plastered on my face. Instead of joining in the laughter, I handed him the water bottle I got after the show, still half full. "Here. Drink more water."

"What about you?" he asked, taking my bottle. I shrugged.

"Hey, I wasn’t the one who puked on someone today, right? Trust me, you need it more than I do."

After that, we didn't waste much time getting on the bus – nothing fancy, just your regular travel bus with reclining seats that doubled as our beds for the night. The crew stashed the gear in the cargo area, and we all picked our spots; the tech crew grabbed the front seats, Cliff and Leanne chose a spot towards the middle.

Pat claimed a seat upfront, away from James, who settled in with Lars and Kirk. It seemed she was still nursing some feelings about the dressing room incident, but at least she managed to shower and change before hopping on. I found a spot further back, alone, close to the mini-fridge for easy access to some water. It felt good to have a little alone time, even if it was just for some shut-eye; despite the fatigue, it seemed like it was gonna be a pretty long night.

I spent the first few hours of the trip soaking in the view from the window. At first, it was the city lights casting a glow as we cruised through the streets. As we hit the open road, it transitioned into an abyss of darkness.

I sensed his presence even before seeing him; I felt his gaze on me, and I lifted my eyes as he settled into the seat next to mine.

"James," I murmured, my weary voice signaling that I'd probably have dozed off any moment if he hadn't dropped by. "Feeling any better?"

"Took a power nap, so I think so," he grumbled.

"Did you brush your teeth? 'Cause tomorrow morning's gonna taste gross if you don't."

"Of course, silly," he chuckled softly, then took my hand in his.

I knew I probably shouldn't encourage him, but I didn't pull it away. His hand felt big and warm, and I found comfort in his touch more than I was willing to admit. His thumb gently stroked the back of my hand.

"You shouldn't do this," I muttered, and he let out a huff.

"I'm just holding your hand. Can't I even do that?"

I sighed. Exhaustion weighed on me. All I really wanted was to surrender, rest my head on his chest, and let him hold me until morning. But I couldn't, could I? Not when he had a girlfriend. Not when the specter of my past love for Dave haunted me every moment of my days, my nights, my life.

"I'm gonna break up with Pat," he declared, and I looked up, feeling my heart race. A surge of conflicting emotions hit me; hearing that made me happy, and that scared me the most. 

"Why?" was all I could whisper. He sighed.

"I can't keep this up, Nore. She's a cool girl, but I don’t like her that way. Not the way I like you,” he murmured, and my heart fluttered at the vulnerability in his voice. "I don't want to be a jerk, I don't want to be with someone I'm not in love with. I'm gonna end it with her, and then..." his gaze, almost pleading, locked onto mine. "All I want is you. But if you don't want me..."

I reached my hand to his face. How could he not be sure that I wanted him when I could barely keep myself away from him? Even with my heart hurting, I could hardly divert my eyes from his gaze. If he wished, he could make me forget how to breathe. Despite his clear feelings for me lingering for so long, knowing that I could have even a fraction of this power over him felt too good to be true.

Would being close to him still hurt if I weren't in mourning for everything I had lost? Would it still burn if there were no obstacles between us, no moral and painful restrictions preventing me from allowing myself to get lost in his embrace, his kisses, his touch? Did he know that I loved him, with a certainty as vast and bright as the sun?

Did I want to make sure he did?

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was my exhaustion, maybe it was the longing I felt to be loved, to be cared for, to be protected. Or maybe it was simply love that made me bring James’ face close to mine. His hands found my waist and lifted my body so that I sat on his lap, while my arms wrapped around his neck and my lips met his. I sighed, my tongue tracing slowly along the outline of his lower lip before venturing into his mouth, one of his hands securing the small of my back while the other got a good grip on my thigh.

I let my fingers tangle in his hair, pulling his face closer, my body pressed against his with a need that startled me; I had never allowed myself to contemplate the vastness of my feelings, of my desire for James until now. But surrendering to it felt like freedom, opening up a gap as wide as the ocean that could only be filled by him.

His lips danced against mine, his hand gripping my face as he planted small bites on my lower lip. He shifted to my neck, exploring it slowly, leaving small bites and kisses that made me tilt my head back. My eyes closed, and a low, breathy moan escaped me.

"Hush, babe," he said in a breathless half-laugh, his lips coming back to mine. I let out a low whimper, lost in the discovery of the greatness of my desire, but James just caressed my face slowly, cradling it in his hands before giving me a tender kiss on the lips. ”Tomorrow. I'll talk to her tomorrow. And I don't want to wait a moment longer after that to have you,” he kissed me again, our tongues moving slowly together before he pulled away with a smile, “Can you be a good girl until then?”

“Shut up, James,” I whispered, and he chuckled softly.

That night, I allowed myself to rest from my pain. And I allowed myself to truly appreciate, for the first time in what felt like forever, desire, longing, love.

The hope of a promise.

The memory of his lips on mine.

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