#she's already looking better being back home
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mrsfancyferrari · 3 days ago
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Can you do an imagine about the reader going out with an F1 driver (I imagine Charles or Carlos), where the reader speaks their language, but doesn’t tell them. One day they walk in on the reader talking to someone on the phone in French/ Italian or Spanish respectively, and have a talk about it. Reader was hiding their abilities due to an insecurity about their ability. Alternatively they could be at a restaurant, where the reader is forced to use that language to order something.
Speak Baby
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Summary: you are going out with Charles, you can speak his language, but don't tell him. You were hiding your abilities due to an insecurity about your ability.
Song: Heaven and Back · Chase Atlantic
Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! Also please follow for more! 🫶
Word count: 3.7k
MASTERLIST - F1
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The soft glow of the lamp painted the room in hues of amber and gold, the late afternoon sun already having dipped below the horizon.
You were curled up on the plush armchair, a worn copy of “Les Misérables” resting open in your lap, though your attention was entirely focused on the phone pressed to your ear. The French words flowed effortlessly, a melodic stream of conversation with your cousin, Élise, back in Paris.
Laughter bubbled in your chest as Élise recounted a particularly disastrous attempt to bake macarons, the familiar cadence of your mother tongue a soothing balm to your soul.
"…and then, the oven, mon Dieu, it was like a volcanic eruption of powdered sugar!" Élise’s voice, tinged with dramatic exasperation, crackled through the speaker.
You chuckled, a genuine, unrestrained sound, “You know you should just stick to painting, ma chérie. Baking is not for you.”
"Oh, very funny," she retorted good-naturedly, “But you should have seen it! The cat even had a dusting. Anyway, how is le charmant Charles?"
You paused, a smile playing on your lips. "He's…fine," you said, a soft giggle escaping your throat. "He's been working late again, as usual."
“And still no clue about your… little secret?" Élise teased, the question a whisper of anticipation.
"No," you replied, your voice dropping slightly, a hint of nervousness creeping in. "Absolutely not. It's…it's better this way, Élise. I’m not ready."
You knew that you were holding out on Charles, but the thought of him judging you for your French was an insecurity that had been haunting you for years.
You had always felt like you were not good enough, that your accent was too strong and that your grasp on the language was not as good as it should be, even though you grew up with it.
You always felt the need to hide, to not draw attention to yourself, and so this was how it was with Charles.
It was easier to communicate in English with him, to be safe, even if your heart yearned to speak in the language that made you, you.
"You're being silly, ma belle. He'd be enchanted, I'm sure of it," Élise said, her tone gentle, trying to reassure you.
Just as you were about to respond, a distinct sound reached your ears - the click of the front door. Your heart leaped into your throat. Charles was home.
Panic seized you, and you quickly pressed the “end call” button, the dial tone a sharp, jarring contrast to the lilting French you had been immersed in moments before. You closed the “Les Miserables” book with an audible thud, feigning a casual air.
You straightened yourself in the armchair and tried to look as though you were simply relaxing, a wave of frustration beginning to wash over you for not being able to share this part of yourself with Charles, but also relief because you almost got caught.
"Hey," Charles said, his voice laced with that endearing weariness you had come to adore, as he walked into the room, tossing his keys onto the side table.
He hadn't noticed the phone in your hands and he pulled off his suit jacket and hung it up on the hanger behind the door. He looked exhausted. "Long day."
"Hi," you replied, your voice a little too high-pitched, betraying the sudden jolt of adrenaline still coursing through you.
You tried to act as nonchalant as possible, hoping he wouldn't notice the flush creeping up your neck, or the way your fingers were still tensed against the phone.
He glanced at you, his blue eyes, usually so bright, clouded with fatigue. "Everything alright? You seem…tense." He took a seat on the sofa opposite you, his gaze intense as he looked at you.
You had been with Charles for a year now, and he was always able to suss something out.
You forced a smile, "Just had a long chapter to read, that's all.” You showed him the book, hoping it would be enough distraction. “It’s quite intense, actually." You pointed to the book, gesturing with your hand. "This guy Valjean, he's been through it."
He seemed to accept your explanation, dropping back against the sofa cushions with a sigh. "Well, whatever it is, you should relax. Maybe we could order some food? I'm starving."
You nodded, relieved. The moment had passed, but the unspoken secret hung heavy in the air between you. The rest of the evening unfolded in its usual way, a comfortable rhythm you both had established.
You talked about your day, laughed at a silly movie, and shared a meal under the soft lamplight. Yet, beneath the surface of normalcy, the secret you harboured continued to prick at you.
He kept stealing glances at you, making you wonder if he might suspect something, but he never said anything.
“So you’re telling me he still hasn’t found out yet?” She asked with a teasing lilt in her voice.
“No, and I’ll keep it that way,” you replied, your smile fading. “It’s too risky, Élise. What if he thinks I’m a fraud? What if he thinks I’ve been lying?”
“Oh, come on,” Élise scoffed, “He’s clearly smitten with you, mon amie. I can hear it in your voice!”
You sighed, staring out the window at the grey sky. “You don’t know him, Élise. His native language is French, he knows it like the back of his hand. He’d notice if my French isn’t perfect.”
“And what if it is?” Élise countered.
You were about to reply, when you heard his voice from the kitchen. You jerked, your heart leaping into your throat. “I have to go, Élise. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay, bisous,” Élise said, and the line went dead.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
The roar of the Ferrari engines was a constant hum, a background score to the chaotic elegance of the Formula One paddock. You watched Charles, a whirlwind of charm and practiced ease, navigate the PR games with Carlos Sainz.
They were a study in contrasts – Charles, all focused energy and effortless smiles, and Carlos, a more grounded, almost playful foil. You knew this dance well, the mandatory media obligations that came with the territory of being a Ferrari driver.
You were happy to be a spectator today. You knew, with a familiar twist of warmth in your chest, that Charles would find you later.
You had a few hours of freedom, a rare commodity in this world of tight schedules and constant movement. You decided to explore. The paddock was a labyrinth of team trucks, hospitality suites, and workshops, a microcosm of the competitive energy that fueled the sport.
You wandered, absorbing the sights and sounds, the clatter of tools, the clipped conversations in a dozen different languages. You’d always been drawn to the undercurrents of these places, the human stories unfolding beneath the glossy veneer of glamour and speed.
That's when you heard it – a voice, high-pitched with panic, cutting through the general noise.
"Est-ce que quelqu'un parle français?" it called out, the words sharp and rushed. " S'il vous plaît, quelqu'un ?" Does anyone speak French? Please, someone?
The man, standing near a catering area, was clearly distressed. He was middle-aged, his face flushed, hands trembling slightly as he gestured erratically. A small crowd of staff had gathered around him, their faces a mixture of concern and helplessness.
They spoke encouragingly in English, but it was clear that they didn’t understand a word he was saying, which was why he was getting more frantic.
You hesitated. You knew French, fluently after all. It really was an insecurity you'd carried since childhood, a fear that your accent wasn't good enough, that you wouldn't be considered “truly” French.
Charles, in his easy, casual fluency, only amplified that feeling. It was easier to let him be the French one, to navigate that world without your input.
But looking at the man, his distress growing with each passing second, your resolve crumbled. You couldn't stand by and watch him suffer.
Taking a deep breath, you pushed past the people, your voice hesitant but clear, "Excusez-moi, monsieur. Je parle français. Qu'est-ce qui se passe?" Excuse me, sir. I speak French. What's going on?
The man's eyes widened, his face flooded with relief. "Ah, merci mon Dieu!" he exclaimed, his hands coming to clasp yours. "C'est terrible! J'ai perdu mon sac, avec tous mes documents et mes clés. Je dois partir cet après-midi, et je suis complètement coincé."
His words tumbled out in a rush, a torrent of worries and anxieties. This is terrible! I lost my bag, with all my documents and my keys. I have to leave this afternoon, and I'm completely stuck
You listened patiently, your own French flowing effortlessly as you reassured him. You asked him for details about the bag, about where he’d last seen it.
You found out that he was here for a family visit, and he had to catch a train in the next couple of hours. With a mixture of calm questioning and reassuring words, you helped him retrace his steps.
You spoke softly, your voice a calming balm to his panic. The staff around you, previously frustrated, looked on with a mixture of curiosity and gratitude.
You felt a small spark of pride, a quiet satisfaction in using the skill that you have always kept hidden.
After what felt like an eternity, you spotted it – a small black bag tucked behind a stack of boxes in a corner. The man let out a cry of delight, his face cracking into a wide, genuine smile. "Merci, merci mille fois!" he cried, taking the bag and beaming at you. "Vous êtes un ange!" Thank you, thank you a thousand times! You are an angel!
You helped him check through the contents, making sure nothing was missing. You even offered him some water and a seat to calm him. He thanked you profusely again and again. He finally started to relax and calm down.
"Thank you so much. I don't know what I would have done without you." he said again, this time speaking English clearly, even though he had not, before. He smiled warmly at you.
"It's no problem," you replied, smiling back. A small voice interrupted.
"Hey babe, what's going on here? I saw this crowd?" Charles asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. He placed a hand on the small of your back.
"This gentleman lost his bag, and couldn't communicate with anyone here. I was just helping him," you explained.
"Ah, but you were speaking French? I didn't know that you spoke French. Good job ma chérie," Charles said a little surprised.
"Oh, I... I learned some in school," you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. You felt a flush creep onto your cheeks.
You could feel the lie hanging in the air, heavy and uncomfortable.
Charles tilted his head, his eyes searching your face, "That’s really cool." He turned his attention to the man, addressing him in perfect French.
You watched Charles smoothly reassure the man that everything was fine and offer him any help that he needed. The man seemed mesmerized by Charles, thanking him profusely.
You watched them briefly, the ease with which Charles switched between two languages, how comfortable he was in the role of translator. It was a stark contrast to your feelings of self-consciousness.
“So, should we get going?” Charles said to you, turning to you, his hand finding yours.
You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. You’d helped someone out, and it felt good. But the lie, that little secret you still held, bothered you. More so than usual now that he knew.
As Charles led you away, you could feel his gaze on you, a silent question in his eyes. You knew you couldn't keep this hidden much longer.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, dancing shadows across the Ferrari base. The air, still warm from the day’s heat, hummed with a quiet energy. You lay nestled in the hammock chair, Charles’s strong back providing a solid anchor as you sat comfortably on his lap.
The gentle rocking motion lulled you both, a peaceful rhythm that seemed to synchronize with the quiet whispers of the wind. You’d been dating Charles for a year now, and these quiet moments were your favorite.
Being alone, intertwined, was bliss.
He nuzzled his face into your shoulder, his breath warm on your skin. You closed your eyes, your own breathing slowing, the world fading away.
You’d almost drifted off, the line between sleep and wakefulness blurring, when a voice sliced through the tranquil silence.
“Monsieur Leclerc, le débriefing commence bientôt!” a young voice called out, the French words sharp and clear. Mr. Leclerc, the debriefing begins soon!
You blinked your eyes open, startled, and looked around for the source of the sound.
A young woman, her face etched with a mixture of frustration and relief, stood a short distance away. She was clearly a member of the Ferrari staff, her uniform a stark contrast to the relaxed atmosphere you and Charles had created.
“Mademoiselle, je vais bientôt réveiller Charles, alors ne vous inquiétez pas,” you said, the words flowing easily, a comfortingly familiar cadence in your mind. Miss, I'll wake Charles up soon, so don't worry.
You watched her face register surprise, then a wave of relief.
“Merci beaucoup mademoiselle Y/N, je vous laisse faire,” she replied, her voice softening. Thank you very much Miss Y/N, I'll leave you to it.
“De rien, je suis désolé de t'avoir fait le chercher,” you said, a slight blush creeping up your neck. You felt a pang of guilt for making her search for Charles. You're welcome, I'm sorry I made you look for it.
She gave you a small, thankful nod before turning and heading back towards the base.
You were about to nudge Charles awake when you felt a movement in your lap. His eyes, a startling shade of blue, were already fixed on you, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"That didn't sound like 'school French' ma chérie," he muttered, a playful yet probing tone to his voice. Your heart lurched, and a cold dread settled in your stomach.
You could feel your cheeks flush, the blood rushing to your head. This was it. Your little secret, the one you'd guarded for so long, was about to unravel.
"What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice coming out a little higher and breathier than you intended. You tried to play it off, hoping your denial would be convincing enough. "I learned some French phrases, that's all."
He raised a skeptical eyebrow, his gaze unwavering. "Some phrases? You just held an entire conversation with Nathalie, in perfect, effortless French. Where did you learn that?"
You fidgeted, your fingers toying with the drawstring of his sweatpants. "Uh...well...you know, it's just...I've always been a good language learner." The explanation sounded weak even to your own ears.
Charles gently tilted your chin up so that your eyes meet. His touch was soft, but his gaze was intense. “Y/N,” he said, his voice lower now. “You’re fluent. Why have you been hiding this from me?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of your unspoken secret. And you knew you couldn’t lie to him any longer. “It’s stupid, really,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I was always just…insecure about it. My native language is English, and I'm fairly average. When I started learning French, which was young, it just came naturally to me. I didn't think I was actually... good. I thought if I spoke it around you, you'd think I sound awful, like those tourists that always try and speak French to you.” You looked down, unable to meet his eyes.
He took your hands in his, his thumbs stroking your knuckles. “Ma chérie, that’s ridiculous. I’m fascinated by languages. I spent so much time learning other languages for the sport, plus how could I ever think you sound awful. You could never sound bad.”
His words were soothing, a balm to your wounded pride. You looked up, your eyes searching his face. “Really?” you whispered, still a little unsure.
He chuckled, a warm, comforting sound. “Bien sûr, Y/N. You’re amazing, in every language. And I am so incredibly curious. When did you learn it? How good are you even?” He had a teasing glint in his eyes now, and the tension that had been plaguing you started to dissipate.
“Since I was a kid. My grandmother was half-French and she taught me, always using French. She wanted me to have another language to use. She wanted me to have something special, so I never told anyone in school or anything.” you admitted.
“And you kept this hidden from me? For all this time?” Charles asked, a hint of playfulness in his voice.
You nodded sheepishly. “I thought you would think I was trying to show off, I guess, and I was honestly just scared I’d be awful.”
He squeezed your hands, his thumb drawing small circles on your skin. “You are far from awful, Y/N, and I promise I never would have thought that, ever. But,” he added, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, “I do have a few questions. And you're going to have to answer them… in French.”
“bébé, il faut que tu fasses le point avec l'équipe!” you said, the words slipping out naturally in French. Baby, you need to check in on the team!
Charles only grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me, ma chérie,” he said, his tone warm and affectionate and full of love.
“I know I’m so sorry.” you said, putting your head in your hands, feeling a flush of embarrassment wash over you. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I was just so scared.”
He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. “Don’t be sorry, mon amour,” he murmured, his voice husky. “It’s incredibly endearing, and it's one more thing I love about you. You have to tell me everything though from now on okay?”
You nodded, leaning into his touch. “I promise.”
He smiled, then his eyes glinted with a new mischievousness. “So, you’ve been keeping secrets from me, have you?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Only this one, I swear.”
“Hmm,” he hummed, leaning in closer. “I think that deserves a punishment.”
“Oh yeah?” you said, raising an eyebrow, excitement coursing through you.
His lips found yours and he deepened the kiss, pushing you gently back on the hammock. The language barrier was forgotten as his hands moved to the hem of your shirt.
You could feel the passion in him, the soft moaning as he kissed your neck. You could feel yourself falling further and further into him, completely and utterly in love.
It was a long time before you pulled away for air, your cheeks flushed and your heart racing.
“What was I saying about meetings?” you breathlessly said, putting a hand on your chest, hoping your heart would slow down.
Charles chuckled, running his hand through his slightly dishevelled hair. “They can wait,” he murmured, his eyes locking with yours, “There’s something much more urgent that we need to deal with, my petite française.”
You laughed then, and pulled him in for another kiss, knowing that your hidden language was now just another way to connect with the man you loved.
The rain outside continued to fall, a soft and gentle melody to the start of another chapter in your love story.
And you knew, with absolute certainty, that this new language you had shared with each other would only bring you closer, in ways you could never have imagined. . . .
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lanf1an · 1 day ago
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SEASONS lando norris x fewtrell sister pt.1 - january 5 2025 The annual family ski trip was finally here, and you could barely contain your excitement. There was something about this trip that always felt like coming home—the crisp mountain air, the cozy lodge that hadn’t changed a bit since you were kids, and the chaotic mix of your two families under one roof.
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hope people will find this, made a sideblog for this, havent used tumblr in a while, feel free to send any suggestions to improve the lay-out/blog etc. Also let me know if you think this chapter is too long. I've already written many parts so will update regularly if people like it.
pt.2
wordcount: 2322
The annual family ski trip was finally here, and you could barely contain your excitement. There was something about this trip that always felt like coming home—the crisp mountain air, the cozy lodge that hadn’t changed a bit since you were kids, and the chaotic mix of your two families under one roof.
You hadn’t seen your twin brother and Pietra in weeks, since they had decided to spent the holidays in Brazil, and you were itching to catch up. You also hadn’t seen the whole Norris family since Abu Dhabi, which had been an absolute blast. You’d meet up with Flo and Cisca regularly in London, having spent Christmas and New Years together, but the whole family being together was a rarity. This year felt extra special, though—it was the first time Dylan was coming along.
Your boyfriend of nearly a year had fit seamlessly into your life back home, and now he was finally meeting the entire crew. Max already got along with him like a house on fire, and you couldn’t wait for him to meet everyone else.
“Stil the same old place. Can’t wait to hit the slopes” Max said looking around with a grin. “You better teach me some sick board tricks this trip Dyl” he continued. “Only if you’re ready to fall on your ass,” Dylan shot back with a laugh. “Careful, Max is competitive,” you teased, they all laughed, Dylan was actually a professional snowboarder, making it that much funnier. 
The Fewtrells had arrived at the lodge first, giving you a chance to show Dylan around before everyone else got there. The house was as you remembered—wood-paneled walls, mismatched furniture, and warm fires crackling in every hearth.
“This is where you grew up skiing?” Dylan asked as you led him upstairs, his snowboard bag slung casually over his shoulder.
“Pretty much. Max and I used to share this room—” you pushed open a door, looking at him slyly, excited to share the room with him this time. The room smelled faintly of cedar, its twin beds still adorned with the same plaid comforters you’d had as kids.
“It’s nice,” Dylan said, setting his bag down and pulling you into his arms. “Cozy. Definitely feels like you.”
Before you could reply, his lips brushed yours, a warm and familiar kiss that made your heart flutter as his hands brushed through your hair, leading you towards the bed. Before things could go further, a loud voice broke the moment. “Fewtrell!” Cisca called from downstairs, followed by Flo’s laughter.
You turned, rolling your eyes affectionately. “Let’s go. You’ll love this chaos.”
Downstairs, the Norris family was filing in, luggage and snow-dusted boots piling up in the entryway. Lando appeared last, hauling a duffel bag with one hand and ski equipment in the other.
“Landooo!” you and Max called out in unison, both running to greet him.“Can’t even drop my stuff first?” Lando teased, dropping the bag with an exaggerated groan as you pulled him into a hug.“Ah, our world champion has arrived,” your dad said, stepping forward with a warm smile. “Welcome back, Lando. Well-deserved break, eh?” “Something like that,” Lando said, grinning as he accepted the handshake. “Nothing beats this place, though.”
“Lando, this is Dylan,” you said, gesturing between them. Dylan extended a hand. “Good to finally meet you. She’s told me a lot about you.” “All good things, I hope,” Lando replied with a polite smile, shaking his hand.“Mostly,” Dylan teased, earning a laugh from everyone. Max threw an arm around Dylan’s shoulders. “You’re in for it now, Lando. Dylan’s a beast on the slopes. Red Bull-sponsored and everything.” “Oh, so I’m not the only sponsored athlete here?” Lando said, his tone light but with a playful edge. It was a miracle Max and Lando hadn’t killed each other yet, being as competitive as they are. Dylan grinned. “Guess not. Maybe we should race to see who’s faster.” “Careful what you wish for, even beat Red Bull this year” Lando shot back.
That night, as wine flowed and the parents went to bed early, the kids stayed up playing cards, laughing over inside jokes, and planning the next day’s ski routes.
The next morning, you woke to the sound of muffled voices drifting up from the kitchen and the faint smell of coffee brewing. Dylan was still sound asleep, his arm draped over your waist. Careful not to wake him, you slid out of bed, threw on a sweater, and made your way downstairs.
Max and Lando were already up, bundled in their ski gear, arguing over who would get to claim the fastest run of the day.
"Morning," Lando said, looking up from lacing his boots. His grin was warm and easy, the kind of smile that had been the same since he was a kid.
"Morning," you replied, grabbing a mug of coffee and leaning against the counter. "You two sound like you're gearing up for a war, not a ski day."
"It is a war," Max declared dramatically, waving a spatula he’d been using to flip pancakes. "Do you remember the incident of 2016?"
"How could I forget?" you said, laughing. "Lando sulking for hours after you beat his time."
"Exactly. Redemption arc starts today," Lando shot back, a playful glint in his eye.
You rolled your eyes but couldn't help smiling. It was moments like these—carefree and full of banter—that reminded you why these trips meant so much.
After breakfast, you, Dylan, and the rest of the group gathered outside, ready to hit the slopes. The sky was a perfect shade of blue, the snow pristine under the morning sun. The energy was contagious, with everyone laughing and joking as they strapped into their skis or boards.
You and Lando split from the main group, both opting for skis while the others took their boards, eager to get tips from Dylan.
“Still as bad at snowboarding as you were at 12?” you teased as the two of you rode the lift up the mountain.
“Not everyone can be a prodigy like you,” Lando quipped, pretending to be offended. “Besides, I’d rather stick to what I’m good at—like beating you down this run.”
“You wish,” you shot back, nudging his arm as the lift slowed.
When you reached the top, it was as if no time had passed at all. Skiing with Lando had always been your thing, a tradition as old as the ski trips themselves. You raced down the slope, weaving between trees and laughing like kids again. At the bottom, you both collapsed into the snow, breathless and grinning.
“Still got it,” Lando said, brushing snow off his jacket.
“I let you win,” you replied, but your smile gave you away.
“I’ve missed this,” you said, lying back in the snow.
“What, losing to me?” Lando teased, throwing a handful of snow in your direction.
You took a break at a skilodge for drinks, glad it wasn’t crowded, texting the rest of the group to join them if they were close.
“It’s so weird how we haven’t actually caught up properly since Abu Dhabi,” you said, getting comfortable and sipping your drink.
— Abu Dhabi december 8 2024
The club was electric—music pulsing through the air, bodies packed tight, and the sharp tang of spilled drinks mingling with the faint scent of expensive cologne. It was the kind of night where everything felt larger than life, McLaren world championship, even as it blurred at the edges.
Lando wasn’t entirely sure how many drinks he’d had. Enough that the world tilted slightly, enough that his usual sharp instincts were dulled to a pleasant fuzziness. He wasn’t really thinking about anything in particular, just letting himself float with the energy of the room.
That’s when he saw her.
She was by the bar, her hair catching the lights in a way that felt achingly familiar. Without even realizing it, his feet carried him toward her. The closer he got, the more the resemblance struck him.
“Hey” he called softly as he approached.
The girl turned, and for a moment, he was convinced it was her. But then she smiled—wide, flirtatious, not the kind of smile she would have given him—and he blinked, the illusion shattering.
It wasn't her. Not exactly. But the resemblance was uncanny enough to send a strange shiver through him.
Still, they started talking. She was funny in a way that felt effortless, her voice cutting through the pounding bass of the music. It wasn’t long before they moved to the dance floor, their movements fluid, fueled by alcohol and the frenetic energy of the night.
Somewhere in the haze of music and lights, Lando leaned in and kissed her.
The kiss was brief but intoxicating, her lips soft and eager. For a moment, Lando let himself sink into it, into the rush of the night, the distraction she provided. But something far away tugged at the edge of his drunken consciousness.
“Lando!”
He pulled back sharply, turning to see Max weaving through the crowd toward him. His expression was one of mild exasperation but mostly confusion.
“Mate,” Max said, his voice slightly slurred, though his amusement was clear. He looked from Lando to the girl, then back again, his eyebrows shooting up. “What the hell are you doing?”
“What do you mean?” Lando asked, putting his hands up in the air, suddenly self-defensive.
Max gestured at the girl, a bemused grin tugging at his lips. “She looks like my sister. Like, exactly like my sister. But—” He looked at her again, his grin faltering. “Also not. It’s weird, mate.”
The girl frowned, her arms crossing over her chest. “Okay, rude.”
“No offense,” Max said quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “You’re gorgeous, but I mean, come on.” He turned to Lando, shaking his head. “How drunk are you right now?”
Lando blinked, his mind scrambling to catch up. He looked at the girl again, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. Now that Max had pointed it out, the similarities felt too stark, too deliberate, explaining why it had felt weird.
“I wasn’t—” he started, but Max cut him off.
“Relax, mate,” Max said with a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder. “I get it. Long season, wild night. Just...you know, maybe cool it before you confuse yourself more.”
The girl rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m getting a drink.” She disappeared into the crowd, leaving the two of them standing there.
Max watched her go, then turned back to Lando, his grin softening into something more understanding. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Lando said quickly, still in a confused haze.
Max tilted his head, studying him for a moment before shrugging. “Let’s go find my real sister,” he said, steering Lando toward the other side of the club. “She’s way better company than, uh...that.”
Lando didn’t argue, but as they walked, his thoughts remained tangled. Max was right—the resemblance had been unsettling, bothering him for a moment until Max handed him another tequila shot.
Lando smirked. “Well, whose fault is that? You disappeared halfway through the after-party. Left me stranded with Max and his endless tequila shots.”
You laughed, holding your drink in both hands. “I didn’t disappear! I was there—you just didn’t see me because you were busy being... you know, Lando.”
“Excuse me,” he said, mock-offended. “What does that mean?”
“It means you were too busy making rounds like the social butterfly you are. Max told me you didn’t even remember half the night.”
Lando groaned, tipping his head back. “That’s fair. I think I blanked out the moment Christian Horner started karaoke.”
You grinned. “See? That’s why I disappeared. I had better things to do, like chatting with some of the Red Bull team.”
“Ah, fraternizing with the enemy,” Lando teased. “You’re lucky Max didn’t disown you.”
“Oh, Max was fine. But you know what?” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “There was this moment… when I was talking to a certain very famous actor.”
“Who?” Lando asked, curious.
Your lips curved into a sly smile. “Not telling. But for just a second, I thought, Wow, if I weren’t with Dylan, this would be my chance.”
Lando froze mid-sip, raising a brow. “Wait, seriously?”
“Totally kidding,” you said quickly, though the grin didn’t falter. “Kind of. I mean, it’s not every day you get hit on by a Hollywood A-lister.”
Lando set his glass down, leaning forward. “Okay, now you have to tell me who it was.”
“Never,” you said, laughing. “I’ll take that secret to my grave. But don’t worry, Dylan has nothing to worry about. Besides, you were the one getting up to trouble that night.”
“Trouble?” he asked innocently.
You gave him a knowing look. “You know, with that girl who looked like me.”
Lando’s grin faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “Oh, come on. Max won’t let me live that down. And for the record, I wasn’t the one who said she looked like you. He did.”
“Still, Lando,” you said, shaking your head with a teasing smile. “That’s a bit weird, even for you.”
“Hey, I was drunk,” he defended, running a hand through his hair. “And she didn’t look that much like you.”
“She could’ve been my long-lost triplet!”
“Okay, maybe a little,” he admitted sheepishly. “But I wasn’t exactly seeing straight. You can blame Max and his tequila shots for the whole situation.”
You laughed again, shaking your head. “Fine, fine. But if Max thinks you’re weird, you know it’s bad.”
Lando sighed dramatically. “Remind me why I put up with you again?”
“Because you love me,” you quipped, raising your glass in a mock toast.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, clinking his glass with yours. You settled back into your seats, the laughter fading into a comfortable silence, both of you enjoyed, relaxed, content and tired after skiing.
Let me know what you think!!
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angstywaifu · 2 days ago
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Underestimated - Bodhi Durran
Request/Prompt: Bodhi and reader get into a fight during challenges because Bodhi underestimates her and she kicks his ass. And he finds it really hot and maybe they end up sleeping together from @fictional-babes-inc
Warnings: sparing/fighting, slightly dominant Bodhi. Masterlist | Support Me
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Name after name gets called. Riders pairing up against each other on the mat, all of us trying to prove ourselves. It was the one thing the Rider’s Quadrant never lacked. Competition. We were all trying to be the best, trying to make sure we came out on top while we fought on these mats. Especially with Threshing fast approaching. We all wanted to prove we were the better fighter or take out those we saw as threats. And I loved the thrill of it.
”You look like you’re itching for a challenge.” Garrick teases from next to me.
He knew better than anyone how much I enjoyed being on the mat. Having been in the same foster home we knew each other very well. The only person who knew him better than me was probably Xaden, as they knew each other before the rebellion. My parents were part of the rebellion, but they were as high up and were a later addition to the cause. Meaning I didn’t know a lot of the other marked ones as well as the others.
”You know me too well. It’s been too long since I’ve been on that mat.” I tell him with a smile which he mirrors back.
I’d somehow managed to escape being called up for any challenges last week, meaning it had been almost two weeks since I’d been on the mat for a challenge. I’d missed it.
”Tavis, you’re up.” The professor calls up as he waves Garrick over to an open mat, a Cadet from my year going pale at the sight of Garrick walking over. Good luck kid.
Not long after Garrick walks away, Bodhi slots into his place. Yet again late for challenges. I swear he was never on time.
”Are you ever going to be on time for this?” I tease him, rocking into his shoulder as he playfully shoves me away.
”One day, but don’t hold your breath.” He teases back with a goofy grin.
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Don’t worry, I’m not.”
He laughs in response before turning his attention back to the challenges at hand, mine drifting to Garrick who has the first year pinned to the mat already, their face bright red as Garrick cuts off their airflow with his arm. And he wonders why most of my year are afraid of him.
”Y/N and Felix, you’re up.” The professor calls across the room.
As I go to step forward Bodhi grabs my arm. “He’s going to knock you out, don’t.”
I furrow my brow at Bodhi. Due to his lateness to nearly every challenge he’d never actually seen me fight. And honestly the way he questions my ability now hurts. Especially seeing as Xaden had excused me from the training he had allocated to the other marked ones who were lacking in their fighting skills.
”Don’t think I can handle myself?” I challenge as I step towards him, Bodhi swallowing nervously.
”No, I’m sure I can. But…. He’s like triple you’re size.” He says nervously, clearly noting he’s angered me.
Fine, he thinks I can’t handle myself, I’ll prove him wrong.
I turn my head towards the Professor who is looking at us with a furrowed brow, clearly not liking Bodhi’s interruption. “I’d like to challenge Bodhi Durran instead.”
I feel Bodhi’s grasp on my arm slacken. “Y/N, that’s not what I me-”
”Done. On the mat Cadets.”
I free my arm from Bodhi’s grip, walking past a Garrick who laughs and shakes his head as he heads back to our spot. “Have fun Bodhi.”
I hear Bodhi stutter behind me, worry clearly setting in as he follow me to the mat. He wants to underestimate me? Fine. Just be prepared for the consequences. I turn on the mat to face Bodhi, seeing Garrick and Xaden standing where we were moments ago trying to contain their laughter as Bodhi joins me on the mat.
We both settle into a fighting stance and I’m glad to see a determined look to cross Bodhi’s face. He better not go easy on me. And I hope Garrick’s words were enough for him to rethink his approach to me.
Despite him underestimating me, Bodhi is the first to move, lunging forward as he aims a quick jab at my shoulder. I can tell there isn’t much power behind it, clearly testing how I would react and move. I lean back just enough to feel the air rush past me as he missed by a few inches. I watch as his brow twitches with surprise as I sidestep it with ease.
”Nice reflexes.” He praises as we start to circle each other.
I shrug and smirk at him. “Didn’t think you’d be so predictable.”
I watch as he smirks at my words, clearly seeing the challenge I’ve laid out for him. He might be the softer and more docile version of Xaden and Garrick, but deep down he was the same, you just had to find the right buttons to push.
This time he comes at my harder, faster, his strikes becoming more and more calculated. But unlike him, I’d had weeks to study how he fought. Studying his rhythm, the way he shifted his weight around. He steps towards me, throwing a right hook which I’d seen him do before. I duck low, twisting around him before landing a punch in his back.
’See, predictable.” I tease again.
Bodhi turns and smiles at me before charging at me again, feinting left before he aims a kick towards my ribs. I catch his leg mid air and sweep his other foot out from under him, Bodhi hitting the mat with a loud thud, his shocked expression priceless as I stand over him, pinning him to the mat as I press my foot into his shoulder.
”You good down there?” I joke as he squirms under me.
Bodhi just growls in frustration as he shoves my foot off him, rolling back to his feet as he settles back into a fighting stance. He comes at me again faster and sharper, trying to change things up. Just like Felix, Bodhi had size and strength over me. But I could use that to my advantage like I always did. I let him come at me, blocking and dodging till I see the opening I need. I let him come at me, blocking and dodging until I saw the opening I needed. And when it came I didn’t hesitate. A swift strike to his shoulder throwing him off balance, followed by a solid kick to his knee sending him stumbling backwards onto the mat again, his body landing with a loud thud.
”Point proven.” He grunts out as he rubs the pack of his head which had just missed hitting the mat and had landed on the wooden floor.
”You’re not a sore loser, are you?” I ask, holding my hand out to him.
He grasps my hand, pushing off the ground as I pull him up. “Not when the fights this fun,” he murmurs, his eyes flicking to my lips for just a fraction of a second. He catches himself, looking away quickly, but I saw it. Felt the intensity behind his eyes.
I step back, giving him room to breathe, though part of me wants to see what would happen if I didn’t. “Let me know when you’re ready for a rematch.” I say, turning towards the edge of the mat.
”I might need a minute to recover, from all of that.” He calls out to me.
Just before I step back into the crowd I turn and look at Bodhi, a smirking pulling at the corners of my mouth. “That’s a shame, because I don’t.”
Bodhi’s eyes go wide as Garrick chokes on his laughter as Xaden thumps him on the back, barely containing his own laughter. I don’t wait to see what Bodhi does, pushing through the crowd towards the doors.
”Dude, if you don’t go after her I might just do it.” I hear Garrick say from behind me, a muffled ow sounding from behind me that sounds awfully like Garrick as I step through the doors.
I know Bodhi has followed me when I don’t hear the door close behind me, the sound of rushed feet fast approaching me. I barely turn around before his hands grasp my hips, spinning me around as he lifts me up, pinning me to the wall.
My breath catches as my back meets the cold surface, the contrast sharp against the heat radiating from his body. His grip is firm, commanding, but his touch isn’t rough—it’s deliberate.
“Do you ever stop running circles around me?” Bodhi’s voice is low, gravelly, and it sends a shiver down my spine. His eyes lock onto mine, dark and unreadable, and I can feel the tension rolling off him in waves.
“I wasn’t running,” I manage to say, my voice breathless, betraying me. “You’re just slow.”
His lips curve into a slow, dangerous smile, but there’s something softer beneath it, something that makes my pulse race even faster. “Oh, is that how it is?” he murmurs, his thumb brushing against my hip, just barely enough to be noticed. “Because from where I’m standing, you’ve been in my head since the moment you walked across that Parapet.
I don’t know if it’s the way he’s looking at me—like I’m the only thing he can see—or the fact that I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, strong and steady despite the chaos between us. All I know is that my walls, the ones I’ve spent years perfecting, feel like they’re crumbling under the weight of this moment.
“You’re in mine too,” I admit, the words slipping out before I can stop them. They hang in the air between us, daring him to make the next move.
His smile fades, replaced by something deeper, more intense. “Say that again,” he whispers, his forehead resting against mine, his breath warm against my skin.
I swallow hard, my hands gripping his shoulders for balance—or maybe just to ground myself. “You’re in my head too, Bodhi. And it’s... infuriating.”
He exhales a soft laugh, his lips brushing against my temple as if testing the boundaries. “Good. At least we’re even.”
Before I can respond, he leans in, closing the gap between us, his lips hovering over mine. He hesitates for the briefest moment, his eyes searching mine for permission. And when I don’t pull away—when I tilt my head ever so slightly toward him—it’s all the confirmation he needs.
The kiss is bold, unapologetic, and all-consuming. It’s everything I don’t associate with the Bodhi I’ve come to know. The kind and caring Bodhi everyone sees. It’s not careful or slow—it’s fire and fury, a culmination of every unspoken word, every stolen glance, every moment we’ve danced around this. My hands slide up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, as if proximity could quench the heat building between us. It doesn’t. If anything, it makes it worse.
When we finally break apart, both of us breathing hard, he doesn’t let go. His hands stay firmly on my hips, his forehead pressed to mine, his lips ghosting over the corner of my mouth like he’s not ready to let the moment end.
“You drive me insane,” he says softly, his voice rough but laced with a hint of amusement.
“Good,�� I reply, a small, breathless smile tugging at my lips. “At least we agree on that."
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hanniebaeee · 21 hours ago
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The Wedding Heist
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Danceracha x fem!reader
Warnings: some threats
Genre: Best friends to lovers?, fluff, angst
Summary: Your parents are forcing you to marry a man you don't love or even begin to think of a life partner. You're being kept locked at your home, and your best friends (well, it's obviously more than friendship here) are planning a wedding heist - stealing the bride on the wedding day!
a/n: Also from a dream I had 🤭 Also I don't hate Yeonjun (or me) - just a character in the story !!
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The smell of something burning filled the boys’ apartment, but Minho barely noticed as he stabbed furiously at the wok with his spatula. Two other pots boiled on the stove, one very close to spilling over.
But he didn’t seem to care. If he didn't keep moving, he was pretty sure he’d implode.
In the living room, Felix was a mess - blotchy tear-streaked cheeks, and brownie crumbs everywhere. He sat cross-legged on the sofa with a giant plate of brownies in his lap, sobbing as he shoveled the treat into his mouth.
“I j-just don’t understand!” he wailed, crumbs spraying everywhere. “Why isn’t she texting back?!”
“She obviously doesn’t have her phone, Yongbok,” Minho said, his shoulders sagged under his own misery. “Her parents must have taken it just to make sure we can’t talk to her.”
Felix’s face crumpled. He let out another sob and crammed another brownie into his mouth.
“W-We’re supposed to protect her! But we're just sitting here and letting her suffer! What if she thinks we don’t care?”
Across the room, Hyunjin was perched on the window sill, staring into the night like a lovesick Victorian poet. He hadn’t spoken in days, his brooding silence actually starting to make the atmosphere even more miserable - if that was even possible.
His hair was unkempt and dark circles shadowed his eyes - he has done nothing but mourn your absence from his life.
Minho side-eyed him while poking furiously at his chicken.
“Alright, broody. That's enough. Both of you, stop. This isn't doing us any good!” he snapped, and Hyunjin hopped off the window sill, glaring at Minho. 
“You think I’m sulking? She’s getting married - to some random asshole who doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her - and you’re over there making soup!”
“It’s a stir-fry,” Minho deadpanned. 
“She’s probably crying herself to sleep, and you’re stir-frying?” Hyunjin hissed. “We should be doing something! Not standing around like idiots while Yeonjun gets to -”
Felix burst into fresh sobs at the name.
“Don’t say his name! Please!” He said, hiccupping through the tears. “He doesn’t deserve her. He doesn't…What if she's moved on? What if -”
Hyunjin whirled around, facing Felix, taking two steps towards him. 
“Don’t you dare.” His voice was low and he sounded so furious, Felix looked terrified. “Don’t you dare question how she feels. She loves us. She’s just… stuck. You know that.”
Minho groaned, tossing his spatula onto the counter.
“Okay, this won't do. Hyunjin, stop scaring him. And Felix, you know her better than anyone.” He said, glaring at both of them. “We’re not sitting around and crying anymore.”
“We’re going to…going to stop the wedding, then?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes moving from Minho to Felix.
Felix sat up straight, brownie crumbs falling down his sweater.
“Ok, so we find out where she’s being kept, get her out of there, and make sure her parents know they can’t control her anymore.” Minho offered, and Felix just looked at Minho and Hyunjin with wide eyes, his mouth falling open. 
“Alright, but we need to be smart about this. Her parents are probably watching her like hawks.” Hyunjin added. 
“Let's do it then.” Felix said, finally putting the plate away and brushing the crumbs off him. 
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The car was parked a safe distance from your family manor. Everything was so silent, but the tension inside felt like a blaring alarm.
Hyunjin sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the security guards patrolling your front yard. Felix was watching from the back, and he already looked so discouraged, it was sad. Minho, on the other hand, looked like he was about to start breathing fire.
“This is ridiculous,” Minho spat. “What do they think she’s going to do? Tunnel out of the house with a spoon?”
“M-Maybe they think we’re going to rescue her…” Felix hiccupped, his red-rimmed eyes peeking out from under his sleeve.
Hyunjin gripped the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles turned white.
“We can’t even get close to her,” Felix choked out. “She’s right there, and we can’t do anything! What if she thinks -”
“She’s not going to think anything,” Hyunjin said softly, but there was a shadow of doubt in his voice.
He looked back at the house, the corners of his mouth tightening. Minho, however, wasn’t having any of it. He slammed his fist against the dashboard, startling both of them.
“No. No way. We’re not giving up. If we can’t get her out now, we’ll do it when it matters most.”
“What do you mean?” Felix blinked at him, sniffling. 
“The wedding. If they want to lock her up until she says ‘I do,’ fine. Let them think they’ve won. But when she’s at that venue? She’s ours.” Minho said, his jaw clenching. 
“You’re saying we crash the wedding?” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, completely invested in this plan. 
“No,” Minho said, a devilish smirk forming on his lips. “We steal the bride. We’ll take her someplace where she can actually be happy.”
---
Back at their apartment, the boys huddled around the coffee table, a hand drawn map of the wedding venue (courtesy Hyunjin) spread out in front of them. Minho was pointing at various parts of the map with a chopstick like a general planning a siege.
“Felix,” Minho began. “Your job is the most important. You’re going to sneak into her dressing room and get her out. I hope you're good at climbing because -”
“I’ll climb whatever you need me to climb!” Felix interrupted, looking determined.
Minho gave him a half-smile.
“Well, you'd climb in through her window for now,” he said. “While you’re doing that, I’ll create a distraction to draw security away from her side of the venue. Fire alarms, and maybe some smoke bombs -”
“Smoke bombs?” Hyunjin cut in, looking suspicious. 
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to,” Minho shot back, smirking. “Anyway, while we’re at it, Hyunjin will have the car ready and waiting.”
“I can handle that.” Hyunjin said, arms crossed and leaning back. “But what about after we get her out? They’ll chase us.” 
“Let them,” Minho said. “She's an adult. She can easily make a police complaint about being kept locked in, and maybe get a restraining order or something.”
Felix bounced in his seat, as he said, “This is gonna work. I know it will! She’ll see us, and she’ll know we’re there for her.”
Hyunjin gave a small smile and said, “She’ll know.”
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It was the day of your wedding, and you were sitting in the dressing room, suffocating in the layers of white silk and lace - waiting for your death sentence. The pressure in your chest grew with every passing second. This was so wrong. This whole thing was. 
You stood in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection with terror. The dress was stunning, yes. But it didn’t feel like it belonged to you. Not when you had no say in it. 
Memories of last night surfaced and you felt extremely nauseated. You'd begged Yeonjun to reconsider this insanity. You’d pleaded with him, told him how you didn't want this.
But his response had been one that you'd never forget. 
He'd sneered at you and grabbed your chin so harshly as he said, “You’ll learn to be grateful for this. I’m going to teach you your place. And when I'm done, no one's gonna want you again. Especially those losers you call your friends.”
You felt your stomach churn. You weren’t afraid of him - no, not really - but you couldn’t deny the power he held over you. 
The power your own parents had bestowed upon him. Because they thought it was ok for him to threaten you into submission. 
And that terrified you.
More than anything, the thought that you'd never see Felix, Minho or Hyunjin ever again - that crushed you. There wasn't a night that you didn't cry over how much you missed them. They meant the world to you.
You walked towards the giant window, gazing out while considering climbing out. You wondered if that was actually feasible when suddenly, a face appeared just in front of you.
A very familiar, and very attractive, face.
“Felix?” you gasped, your heart leaping into your throat as you quickly grabbed his arm helping him through the open window.
He was dressed in a white suit that made him look like the literal definition of an angel sent to save you. His eyes were wide, and he looked like he was ready to weep.
“Oh my god, baby…” Felix whispered, and you barely had time to process this before he was pulling you into an hug.
The sob that escaped you was strangled and pained. You wrapped your arms around him, clutching him like he would disappear any minute.
You weren't even sure if you were hallucinating from hunger and exhaustion or if he was actually here. What helped was his scent - he smelled like vanilla and something spicy. And more than anything, he felt like home.
“Oh my god, Lixie, what are you doing here?” you asked breathlessly, tears streaming down your face.
“I’m here to take you home, of course,” he said softly, cupping your cheeks and brushing his lips against your forehead before moving to kiss you full on the lips - deep and slow. This was your first time kissing him, honestly, it sent shivers down your spine. You could feel his heart racing against yours, and his hands slipped down to your waist, holding you tight against him.
Felix was here. And he was taking you away.
He pulled back, his eyes taking in your wedding dress and a soft smile grazed his face as he said, “You’re so beautiful,”
You could see the lust burning in his eyes, a hunger that he was trying so hard to suppress. But there was no time to indulge in it now.
“Come on,” Felix whispered, taking your hand gently and guiding you toward the door. When he opened it, you gasped loudly, because you saw Minho stalking towards you and Felix with a smug grin on his face. 
“Minho!” you said, as your heart pounding in your chest. He was so damn sexy in his suit, his expression a perfect mix of arrogance and affection.
He didn’t even give you a chance to react before he was pulling you into his arms, wrapping his arms tightly around you.
“You're not getting married today, sweetheart,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear.
You blinked at him as you tried to take this all in. You were sure your life was over till about five minutes ago. You were scared to even hope, because at this moment, you had a lot of it flowing through you. 
You glanced around, looking for Hyunjin. But you don't have time to ask where he was, because at the exact moment a shrill sound fills the area.
A fire alarm. The wail echoed down the hall, and you could hear a soft hiss of smoke drifting from somewhere in the building. There were people running towards the source of the sound and the smoke filling the area.
“Minho…” you said, your voice almost incredulous, “Did you set off the fire alarm?”
“Would you prefer I hadn’t?” Minho teased, and Felix chuckled softly behind you.
You didn’t have time to process what was happening before Minho was pulling you in for a kiss of his own. And the look he gave you promised you something safe and beautiful you couldn't have dared to dream of until a few minutes ago. 
“We're taking you away from all this,” Minho said, breaking the kiss. “You belong with us.”
As if on cue, you heard the door swing open from the other side, and Yeonjun’s voice cut through the air like a knife.
“What the hell is going on?!” he bellowed, his face twisting in rage. “Where is Y/N?!”
The three of you ran. It was an absolute pain to run in that damn dress (which you thought was why Yeonjun wanted you to wear it in the first place - so you can't run away from him). And those heels - you kicked them off and Felix quickly lifts the front part of your dress a bit so you weren't tripping on it. 
And you ran.
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Minho pushed open the door and you could hear Yeonjun’s loud voice even through the fire alarm. And the three of you raced down the steps, and there. 
Leaning against a sleek black car was Hyunjin.
Your heart skipped a beat. He looked even more stunning than usual in his suit. But it wasn’t just his looks that made you shiver - no. 
It was the way he stepped forward, grabbing you by the hand and pulling you into his chest. And again, he stole your breath away (like he always did) by kissing you. 
Hyunjin kissed you right in front of Yeonjun, and the kiss was rough and desperate, like he’d been waiting for this moment forever.
Yeonjun stood frozen for a moment, as the wedding guests and your family surrounded him. Obviously, there wasn't much he could do anymore. His perfect reputation was at risk here.
Hyunjin pulled back, his hand still gripping your waist as he gave Yeonjun a cold glare. And then taking your hand in his, he slipped your engagement ring off your finger, and tossed it towards Yeonjun, who looked like a volcano ready to explode. 
“Not today, you loser,” Hyunjin said with a smirk, watching as the ring tumbled through the air and landed at Yeonjun’s feet with a soft clink. “Not my girl.”
You were frozen, your heart racing as Minho and Felix joined you and Hyunjin, keeping you well shielded from your parents’ glare. But no one said anything.
Not a word.
Felix squeezed your hand, and Minho patted your shoulder as he watched you gaze at your parents who didn't look apologetic at all. Hyunjin pressed a soft kiss on your temple before leading you toward the car. 
And as Hyunjin opened the car door and grinned at you, you knew. It wasn’t just the end of a wedding - it was the beginning of your life, your new life, with your three beautiful boys. It was complicated, yes. But one thing you knew for sure was that they'd never let you shed a tear again.
And hell, you couldn't wait for whatever this was because you were finally with your boys. 
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Divider - @saradika-graphics
Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @satosugu4l
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eddiazx · 3 days ago
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stuck on you - eddie diaz x reader
based on this request: Do you take requests? I was hoping for an Eddie x reader where they were friends in high school but lost touch and they end up meeting again when Eddie's on a call...
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It was supposed to be a routine call.
Two people stuck in an elevator in the building with no injuries; only one of them with asthma who was getting anxious cooped up in the metal box. 
“LAFD! Step back, we’re coming in!” Eddie calls out, before prying open the elevator doors with a Halligan. Eddie sees an older woman, presumably the one with asthma, with the way she held a hand to her chest. Surprisingly, the woman had a bright smile on her face and didn’t look too shaken up. 
“You okay, ma’am?” Eddie questions while looking her over, quickly assessing whether she was having any shortness of breath or wheezing. 
“Yes, I had lovely company to keep me sane.” The woman responds cheerily, nodding towards the other person in the elevator before Eddie directs her out towards Chim. 
The other person laughs, and Eddie follows the melodic sound. A melodic sound that sounded oh so familiar. He looks at the person, he looks at you, and flashbacks hit him like a film reel. Passing notes to each other in English class, sneaking into rated-R horror movies, staying up late at night to talk about fears and life plans, and finally, the long, lingering hug that the two of you shared before you got into the car to move across the country with your parents. His best friend during his most formative years; the one who he had wanted to be more before your time together was cut short.
You somehow look even better, the years treating you extremely well. Regardless of your age, Eddie could easily recognize the mischievous smile and bright eyes that landed the two of you in trouble many times during his childhood.
“Hey, Trouble.” Eddie smiles softly at you. 
“Eddie.” You breathe in disbelief, eyes already glistening with unshed happy tears, before you throw your arms around his neck in a tight hug. Chim and Hen exchange glances and raise eyebrows at this, but neither Eddie nor you could be bothered to explain right then.
Eddie closes his eyes and cradles your head, his nose filled with the scent of you. The relief, the feeling of finding the last puzzle piece of his heart, the feeling of being home, overwhelms him. 
Somehow the seemingly regular call ended up being the one that Eddie would never forget.
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lacydollette · 3 days ago
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I’m on my period and I’m really not feeling well and like I just wanna hug and a forehead kiss and I don’t know I’m thinking about like rafe x reader and he’s comforting her and being all soft and sweet with her and maybe it’s like somewhere with friends or something and all of a sudden she gets really bad cramps and he’s like super soft and super sweet and it’s all cute 
a/n period cramps are the worst 💔 hope this helps a little !!
warnings rafe x fem!reader, period cramps, rafe taking care of you, comfort, fluffy as hell
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You and Rafe were enjoying a chill evening at Toppers house, drinking, laughing and just having fun but about an hour in, a sharp, twisting pain in your lower stomach threw you back. You immediately recognized the familiar pain—it was the kind of period cramps that made you want to curl into a ball and cry. But you pushed the thought aside. You knew how much Rafe valued these moments, especially after the hectic week he’d had, and you weren’t about to ruin it.
You shifted on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position, but the pain only grew worse. It was relentless, waves of pain rushing over you. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep it together.
Rafe noticed the change in you almost immediately. He was standing across the room with Kelce, laughing about something stupid, when his eyes landed on you. The way you squirmed and pressed your hand to your stomach made his chest tighten.
“Hey, hold on a sec,” he muttered to Kelce, already walking toward you. “Baby?” he said softly, kneeling in front of you. His hands brushing over your thighs softly, “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
You quickly sat up straighter, plastering on a smile, “I’m fine, Rafe. Don’t worry.” His eyes narrowed, scanning your face. “Liar. What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing, really.” But then the pain surged again, and you couldn’t stop the small wince that crossed your face. You tried to laugh it off though, not wanting to worry him even more. “It’s just cramps. I’ll be fine.”
Rafe frowned, your pain making his heart ache, “Cramps? Like… bad ones?” You hesitated, feeling embarrassed. “Yeah, but it’s no big deal. You should stay and hang out with your friends. I’ll be okay.”
That response hit him harder than expected. His brow furrowed, and his voice was firm but gentle. “y/n, you’re sitting here in pain, and you think I care about hanging out with Top and Kelce more than you?”
“Rafe, it’s your night. You deserve to relax—” He cut you off, “Not if you’re hurting,” shaking his head. “Come on, we’re going home.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but the serious look in his eyes made you stop. He wasn’t going to budge, and honestly, you weren’t sure you even wanted him to.
When you two got home, Rafe wasted no time. He helped you out of your shoes, guiding you to the bed with a care that made your heart feel full. “Sit tight,” he murmured, brushing a kiss against your temple. Rafe always went all out when it came to you, not caring about anything else but to make you feel better.
He disappeared into the kitchen, and you could hear him rummaging through cabinets. The sound of running water followed, and then he was back with a steaming hot water bottle and a handful of your favorite snacks. He sat on the edge of the bed, gently placing the bottle against your stomach.
The heat was soothing, and you sighed in relief. “Better?” he asked, pulling you into his arms. “Much better,” you admitted, leaning into him. But Rafe wasn’t done. He wrapped you up in his embrace, his lips pressing soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks. “You should’ve told me sooner,” he murmured.
Your chest swelled with emotion as you nodded, feeling his love in every gentle touch. “Thank you, ray.”
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You scared me a little, you know. You looked like you were really hurting.” Your chest tightened. “I didn’t want to bother you. You were having such a good time…”
“y/n,” he said, sitting beside you and tugging a strand of hair behind your ear, “I don’t care about anything else when you’re not okay. Got it?” You nodded, tears pricking your eyes at the sincerity in his voice, your hormones were through the roof at this point. “I got it.” He wrapped his arms around you tighter, resting his chin on top of your head. “Good. Now let me take care of you.”
And he stayed true to his words. You spent the rest of the night cuddled together in the bed, Rafe’s warmth and care easing your pain, there was no better remedy than being wrapped up in his arms. He held you close, occasionally pressing soft kisses to your rosy cheeks, as he whispered little reassurances.
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420days · 2 days ago
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HALL OF FAME | JEY USO
Summary: An extremely shy Brianna accompanies her husband to Hall of Fame for the first time
Warnings: none
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“Mommy looks so pretty!” Brianna’s youngest son, Jeyden gasped into the phone once the FaceTime call connected.
“Wow, she does! I like your new hair mommy.” His twin brother, Jeylen nodded his head in agreement.
“Thank you my sweet babies. Are you guys being good?” She asked and before they could respond her oldest child intervened.
“No they’re not! They’re here acting a fool. You wanna show mom and dad what you learned?” Jeyla nudged her five year old brother.
Jey peeked his head into the camera letting this kids know he was still very much in the room and present. His kids knew they had a little lead-way with Brianna but he wasn’t having it at all.
Jeylen giggled before shaking his head and and moving away from the camera.
“What’s he doing Yaya?” He called his oldest by her nickname.
“Sticking up his middle finger.” She spoke and Brianna’s mouth went agape.
“Oh yeah? Ima deal with him when I get home cause he knows better than that shit.”
“Mmhhh anyway, mommy let me see what you’re wearing because the makeup is eating.” Jeyla clapped her hands.
Standing up from the phone she stepped back just enough to show her daughter her full outfit. Her cherry red dress with a tail in the back that hugged hourglass figure. The pointed gold heels her daughter helped her pick out went perfectly with her dress and gave her a height boost showing off her toned legs.
“Period mommy! Look at the body! My mom is such a baddie!” Jeyla gassed up her mom as she took FaceTime photos. Jey listened to his daughter and couldn’t help but to laugh because she sounded just like him.
Although she was sixteen she knew her mom was shy but she couldn’t understand why. Her mom was beautiful inside and out and that was exactly why her and her father reminded her every chance they could.
“Thank you love. You and your dad want to make me cry tonight.” She glanced up at her husband who was already smiling down at her.
“I hear you gassing mom but where’s dad? Cause I know he got it on.” Brianna heard her son’s voice after a door closed.
“Dad looks handsome. I told him that.” Jeyla sucked her teeth as her brother took the phone from her.
“Son, ou know I do!” Jey said as Jeycon took the phone from his twin sister and began gassing his father.
Brianna laughed at the two of them before telling the kids they had to head out or else they would be late.
“Okay, I love you guys! Take a lot of pictures and send them to me.”
“We will, love you too!” The couple smiled at their kids before hanging up.
-
“Oooouuu sis! You finally came out the house! You look so beautiful.” Trin smiled as she walked over to her sister and brother in law.
“Thank you.” Brianna smiled shyly as she held onto her husbands hand. It was Hall of Fame night and Jey was able to convince her to come with him.
He knew his wife was extremely shy and didn’t like the media’s attention so she refrained from coming to a lot of the events.
However, his parents agreed to keep the kids so he basically begged his wife to come and spend the next couple days with him.
“She look good don’t she? I told her that earlier.” He tucked his lips and looked over his wife’s hourglass figure in her red dress. He was ready to say fuck the show and take her back to their hotel room.
“She really does. It’s giving very much slim thick and the boobies are sitting just right.” Trin smiled.
“Naturally at that.” Jey added making Brianna push his arm lightly.
“Babe stop.” She smiled as her butterscotch face turned cherry red. After all the years they’ve been together this man could still make her feel shy and have her blushing.
“Ima leave you alone.” He smiled knowing he was lowkey embarrassing her by he didn’t care. He loved showing his wife off and that’s what he planned to do tonight.
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tags: @bebesobrielo @trentybenty @amandairene88 @kiki1704 @paigereeder @uceyliyahh @skyesthebomb @cyberdejos2 @chloeijuana @tian-monique
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yuyusshinelight · 2 days ago
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Dad thoughts feat ATEEZ: First Word
⚠️ Warnings ⚠️
♪ This post is about how I think they would be as parents; just that, some thoughts. This does NOT represent any of Ateez's members in any way.
♪ English is not my first language so sorry if there's any mistake.
Vocabulary just in case someone doesn't know:
Y/S/N — your son's name
Y/D/N — your daughter's name
Jagi — sweetheart, darling, etc...
Note: Hi my shining stars! First of all, happy new year! How has been your beginning of the year? I hope you all are fine🩷✨. Mine has been so-so, I'm sick but I'm getting better now. So, taking advantage of being better today, I'm here to bring you a new scenario for our boys being dads cause I know how much you like those parenting headcanons. I hope not, but if there are any errors or something that is poorly structured, please let me know. I hope you like it and enjoy your reading. Love you all, my shining stars!!!
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SEONGHWA
✰ Obviously his little star's first word was 'Daddy'. Seonghwa had spent all her short life repeating it every time he could for her to learn it before any other thing. The poor idol came back home after a hard day at work, wanting more than ever in his married life to lie on the couch with you on one side and your little star resting in his chest. What a beautiful surprise his baby gave him when she appeared crawling towards him to welcome him while mumbling what Seonghwa could perfectly understand as "Daddy". According to what you told him, your little girl had spent the whole afternoon calling him, which made Seonghwa die of love for your daughter but at the same time sad that he had missed her very first word. Good thing you had recorded it.
HONGJOONG
✰ His son's first word was so comical but so inappropriate for a kid of his age. It happened one night in which Hongjoong was in charge of bathing your kid. The so excited baby was splashing all over the place, laughing at how awesome those waves of foam were and making his father laugh too for how cute the scene was. Everything was fun and laughs from both father and son until some foam reached one of Hongjoong's eyes. The male was not aware of that swear word he let out unconsciously until he heard his baby say "Fuck". Good luck you didn't hear it because Hongjoong was more than sure that you would have been angry with him for that.
YUNHO
✰ The first word of Yunho's first son was 'Spiderman', followed almost immediately by 'Daddy'. It was one of Yunho's free days so he obviously decided to spend it entirely with his family. He played with your baby in your bed for an hour, you all went for a walk in the park, he did household chores while you spent time playing with your kid and his didactic toys... Yunho even ended up taking a nap with your baby. And now, while you were giving your kid his bath, Yunho was playing a bit with his PlayStation. A little moment for himself that ended up being shared with your son while you went to prepare dinner because Yunho liked to have his baby near even if he was playing. And then, it happened. The moment Yunho accommodated your son in his lap, the baby pointed at the TV saying "Spidman". That made Yunho look at him with wide eyes, calling you to come quickly as soon as your son said again "Daddy, Spidman".
✰ And, even though he spent months teaching his daughter how to say 'Daddy' because he wanted to be her first word, Yunho was more than excited with the fact that his daughter's first word was 'Brother'. It was one of the cutest things Yuhno had ever heard in his life. His baby called her brother right after she heard the front door. She hadn't even seen him but she already knew that her big brother was the one coming home. He even cried when his daughter hugged his son to welcome him with the widest smile and cutest giggle he had ever seen from her.
YEOSANG
✰ His daughter's first word was 'Chicken'. Surprising to both parents, who couldn't stop laughing for how cute sounded the word in your daughter's voice, but being strangely expected after hearing Yeosang repeat several times to your daughter, "We are eating fried chicken today. Mommy is making delicious fried chicken". It was a special date for Yeosang and you and you wanted to gift him with a meal you knew he would love: Korean fried chicken. What neither of you expected was that your special day would be even more special because it would be the day in which your daughter would say her very first word. It discouraged you both a little bit because you wanted his first word to be something like 'Daddy' or 'Mommy' but you're not complaining either, it was very funny.
SAN
✰ Every time he remembers, the idol can't hold back the tears. He has the moment tattooed in his memory to relive it exactly as it happened whenever he wants. But how not to do it if his first daughter's first words were 'Love you'? San was playing with his daughter to tickle her on your bed when you appeared and gave each one of them a quick kiss. Just after you said 'I love you' your baby repeated you, making both San and you look at each other and almost cry of happiness before kissing your daughter a thousand times more.
✰ With his second daughter was equal as cute as with his first one but so funny too. As every night since your daughter got her own big-girl room, San was with your eldest daughter, telling her a bed story and giving her all the kisses and hugs she asked for before finally tuck her tightly so that his little kitten would not get cold while you were rocking the baby to put her to sleep. Just when he was sure his daughter was sleeping, San turned the little purple bed-side light on and exited his daughter's room, going to his second child's room now to give her a goodnight kiss. What a funny surprise she gave him when as soon as he peeked through the door, the baby blurted out that sleepy 'Sannie'.
✰ And, as it could not be otherwise, his third son's first words were so cute too. Yes, in plural. His eldest daughter was playing peekaboo with her young brother while the second child was sleeping on the couch in your arms. Both San and you were looking at the cute scene with wide smiles when your son threw his head back to look at his father. San, who was smiling even wider, said "What happens, baby? What does big sister do?" Then your son laughed with his hand on his mouth but, even with his tiny fist playing with his lower lip, you two heard that clearly 'Big sister' from the baby.
MINGI
✰ The Song twins had the same first word. Indeed, they said it almost at the same time, first his daughter and then his son. Mingi will always remember that day. He had come back home later from the studio last night so when he arrived home your kids were already sleeping. He couldn't hug and kiss his babies as he wanted because he didn't want to wake them up, obviously, so, after a soft kiss in their tiny heads, the sad dad went to sleep. The beautiful moment happened the next morning, when he woke up and went to pick up his children to give them their breakfast. His daughter let out that tiny 'Daddy' that his son repeated seconds before, not giving Mingi even a second to process what was happening before they started to repeat it more and more times.
WOOYOUNG
✰ His first son's said 'Jagi' as first word. Always hearing his parents say it to each other, it was more than obvious that the baby would learn it sooner or later. The story is that Wooyoung was doing his best to entertain your kid while you were taking a bath. Your baby was at that stage in which every child developed that strong need to be with their mother or father and your son only wanted to be with you. Fortunately, your son didn't burst into tears like many other times, so you could take a quiet but short shower because you didn't want to push your luck farther. If you had known... The moment your son saw you he went from laughing with his father to crying because he wanted to be with mommy. You couldn't do anything else than to go to hold him in your arms obviously "Come with mommy" and as soon as you took your kid in your arms he called you 'Jagi', leaving both Wooyoung and you speechless.
✰ His second one's first word was 'Mommy'. You were preparing breakfast while Wooyoung was playing with your still sleepy children in your bed. It's not like he didn't want to help you, it was more like his little babies had him captive between the comfortable and warm sheets of your bed, giving him a lot of good morning kisses to which Wooyoung could do nothing but give them their corresponding kisses. But then your eldest son tried to get out of the bed on his own, that was the perfect signal to get up so, holding his second child in one arm and giving the first one his free hand, Wooyoung went to the kitchen with both kids. That was when your youngest son called you, making you turn to look at them with wide eyes and a big bright smile on your face.
JONGHO
✰ The first word of Jongho's little bear was 'Mommy'. He was alone at home with your child, a boy's day as Jongho told you. And by the moment their boy's day had been fairly uneventful. The child had eaten well, he took a nap without problems, they had been playing a lot... Until now. It was your son's bath time but the child did not want to take a bath. Or rather, he didn't want daddy to bathe him. According to your theories, it was because you played with him while bathing him and Jongho bathed and got him out quickly. In other words, you were calling him boring. Good thing he had already caught his son after running after him all over the living room. What a surprise Jongho got the moment he heard that little "Mommy" from his son as he was taking him to bathe "Your mother will not like having missed your first word, buddy".
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genshingorlsrevengeance · 12 hours ago
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(H:SR/GFL) A Cold Night with Seele, Bronya, Natasha, and Serval
I'm freezing my ass off right now and decided to write this in a vain attempt to get warmer
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Seele was relatively used to the cold, and so was every citizen of Belebog and the Underworld.
Still, that did little to comfort her S/O, who was shivering inside their shared home.
(S/O) "M-Man, why did our heater have to break down now?"
Seele sighed and sat herself next to S/O on the couch, leaning back into it.
(Seele) "A replacement is coming in tomorrow, thankfully. Just tough it out till then."
Her eyes drifted over to S/O, who had both arms attempting in vain to warm themselves. A second or two passed before Seele's cheeks was dusted with pink, as she leaned over to S/O.
Letting herself grab them and hold them close and already start to warm up with their body heat.
(S/O) "S-Seele?"
(Seele) "This...should be good for now, yeah?"
(S/O) "Better than just a blanket, heh..."
She refused to meet their gaze, instead just holding onto them tighter as S/O reciprocated, the two of them not saying much of anything and enjoying each other's warmth.
And Seele couldn't help the small smile forming on her lips as she snuggled closer to S/O, her embarrassment doing a good job of keeping her warm.
(S/O) "...That being said, can we grab a blanket too?"
Though that comment made her just scoff and roll her eyes playfully.
(Seele) "Sure, lemme grab one you big baby."
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Even with Bronya's heater at full blast, tonight's storm was particularly fierce.
(Bronya) "S/O, are our blankets sufficient enough?"
(S/O) "As much as they can be, I'm still a little cold though..."
(Bronya) "I see."
Bronya looked around her room, trying to find an extra blanket or layer of clothes for S/O, until an idea came to mind.
(Bronya) "S/O, would you come here for a moment?"
(S/O) "Hm? Sure."
Before they could ask what was up, she gently took their hand and dragged them into bed, before promptly taking them into a hug.
S/O simply smiled and let Bronya get in close, the cold already fading from the room.
Though Bronya was a little flustered, little acts of affection like this in private was where she was fully confident.
(Bronya) "Is that better, my love?"
(S/O) "Hah, yes, my lady."
Giggling at the nickname, she rests her head against S/O's, the two of them not taking long to drift to sleep.
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Natasha had a rather fluffy blanket, so the cold in the room wasn't too bad. But even just a little nip in the air would be a good excuse for her to get closer to S/O.
Not that they had any complaints, of course.
Natasha rolls to her side and grabs S/O, her head resting against their back as her arms snake around their stomach and holding them close.
(S/O) "Hm...? Nat?"
(Natasha) "Oh, don't mind me. Just needing to get warm real quick."
S/O could only laugh at her playful tone, shuffling closer to her to close the distance.
(S/O) "I'm not a teddy bear, you know."
(Natasha) "You're right. You're even better."
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Serval hogs the blanket at night, leaving S/O absolutely freezing much to their dismay.
They have to shake her a few times before she groggily opens her eyes.
(Serval) "H-Huh? Hm...wassup?"
(S/O) "Serval, you're stealing the blanket again!"
Serval mumbles something incoherent before shimmying inside her mini-cocoon, allowing the blanket to cover S/O.
They were about to close their eyes until they were yanked by Serval's strength, into her arms as she nuzzled closer and wrapped the blanket around them.
(Serval) yawn "That better?"
(S/O) "...Y-Yes..."
She gives them one last cheeky smile before resting her head on their chest, letting S/O blush madly before quickly falling back asleep.
...And in the morning, she'd somehow have the blanket entirely around her again.
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ssweeterthanfiction · 1 day ago
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waiiiiit need a fic where reader finds out finnick told snow he’d take on more clients to ensure she’s safe
YOU ASK AND YOU SHALL RECIEVE!!
Innocent
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HEAVY content warnings: trafficking of victors, panic attack, self hatred, suidcidal thoughts.
It was late. Finnick had just gotten home from a long trip. He was gone for nearly a month. A month away from you felt like years. A month away from your smile, a month away from your laughter, a month away from your warm touch.
Tiredly, he walks into the living room of your shared home, flicking on a lamp so he could see better.
He was exhausted.
For the past few weeks it had been nonstop. A new person every single night. At times he would think, if he should even keep up with all of it. But then he remembered why he was doing this, to keep you shielded from the truth, to keep you protected.
"If you want her to remain untouched, you take on the responsibility of the people that would've wanted her."
He passes by a mirror and sees his reflection. He sees the scratches and bruises left by his 'lovers'. He stares at them for a moment, wanting to just rip the skin off of his body instead of just covering them up and playing it off as injuries that he would get from fishing and swimming, maybe then he won't feel dirty and used.
He plops onto the couch, his entire body aching. He puts his head in his hands, thinking that he should end his misery already.
He scolds himself for this.
Finnick hated that he had such thoughts of quiting everything, he hates himself for wanting to give up, he hates feeling dirty, he hates feeling used, he hates himself for allowing Snow to make him bend at his will.
He couldn't handle it anymore. He couldn't handle being treated like a toy. He just wanted it all to end.
But if he truly ended it all, he would be leaving you. He would be leaving you to the hands of the Capitol.
And how they wanted to get their hands on you.
He felt tears well up in his eyes, he felt his hands begin to shake, he felt his heart race.
Then he heard quiet footsteps.
"Finn? Is that you?"
He turns his head and sees you in one of his shirts and your pajama bottoms.
"Yea it's me angel"
You rub your eyes and slowly walk toward the couch. "What time is it?"
"Late." Finnick says, trying to hold back his tears.
You sit down next to him, even though you're half asleep you notice that he's trembling. You move close to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Finnick?...Are you alright?" you say in a gentle tone.
Feeling your warm touch, Finnick breaks down.
You wrap your arms around him, "Finn? Finn what's wrong?" you say as you stroke his hair, trying your best to comfort him.
"I-I'm so sorry angel. I'm so sorry" he says through tears.
You look at him with confusion, "You're sorry for what Finn?"
"For everything. I'm so sorry, I can't do it anymore angel...I can't. I'm so tired." he says as he begins to hyperventilate.
You feel alarms going off inside your head. "Finn. Finnick please talk to me. Please." you say in a soothing tone as you cup his face in your hands.
"I can't keep doing this...I can’t keep pretending, keep smiling for them, keep letting them—" his voice breaks, his breath becomes more uneven.
"Finnick who are you talking about?"
"S-Snow- the entire Capitol-" he says, trembling as he practically sobs in your hands, shaking his head.
You press your lips to his forehead, resting yours against his when you pull away, "Finny...please talk to me,
He sniffles, "They own me. Snow… he owns me."
"Own you? What are you talking about Finny?"
He bites his lip, is he really about to tell you the whole truth?
"He… he sells me. To his friends. To anyone with enough money or influence. And if I say no, if I fight back, he threatens… everyone I care about."
You can feel a pit form in your stomach, you pull him into a tight hug, letting him cry in your arms. "Finny..." you whisper, stroking his hair, "How long has this been going on?"
"S-Since I was sixteen, and they parade me around like I was some prize, some… toy. That's why I take so many trips to the Capitol. That's why I act the way I act. I play the role because- because I thought it meant keeping everyone I cared about safe. But I can’t stop it. I can’t stop him."
"And the worst part? They love it. The Capitol loves it. They think I’m... happy. That I want this." he says, his tears wetting the fabric of your shirt. "But it’s never enough. Snow always wants more."
You tighten your embrace, letting him cry it all out.
"He threatened you, angel. He wanted to do this same thing to you. I couldn’t let that happen. He would’ve taken you, used you, broken you. And I couldn’t live with that. I couldn’t let him touch you. So I made a deal. I told him I’d take on more, do whatever he wanted, as long as he left you alone. That's why my trips have been so much longer."
Your heart shatters. You can feel tears begin to well in your eyes, you don't even know what to say. He's been dealing with so much. Alone. Just to keep you protected. "Oh..Finny" you say shakily, pressing gentle kisses to his forehead.
"I hate him. I hate myself for letting him control me. But I couldn’t stand the thought of you s-suffering . I’d do it again if it meant keeping you safe."
You pull away from him slightly, making just enough space so you can press your lips against his.
"I did it to protect you angel. I lovd you too much to- to let you go through that. I couldn't let you go through any of that, you don't deserve to."
You kiss him again, "I know Finny. I know." you say in a gentle tone, kissing his forehead. "And I love you for that. I love you so much Finny."
You pull him into a tight embrace again, letting his get all his bottled up emotions out.
"I'm sorry for keeping this from you angel."
"It's not your fault Finny.." you whisper. "None of it is. It's Snow. Not you."
For the next few hours, you cuddle with Finnick on the couch. Running your fingers through his hair til you both fall asleep in eachother's embrace.
A/N: MY SHAYLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAA☹️💔
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the-kr8tor · 3 days ago
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I love your writing! Would you mind writing something about Hobie and the twins getting jealous of the new baby boy? Maybe the reader spends so much time with him that she forgets about the other 3 🥹😭
Whoops I forgot that Hobie is included in being jealous 😔 hope you still like it! Thank you for requesting ❤️
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 1.4k
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, mum! Reader, dad! Hobie, twin au, Billie and Ramona au, parent au, dad au, cw food mentions, fluff!
ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ
Hobie comes back from the shops with an eerie feeling. Goosebumps rising on his arms, knuckles tightening around the plastic bag he's holding. With his spidey senses going haywire as he opens the front door to the shared home, his vision immediately hones in on his twin girls who look like they're sulking on the settee. The telly's volume rings in his ears, tamping down his son's wailing from upstairs.
He was about to yell for you, asking if you and the new addition to the family are alright, but you beat him to it by calling him over. His relief can be felt across town with his loud sigh rumbling his chest.
Before he goes upstairs, he stops by his girls' sides, dangling the plastic bag in front of the telly to get their attention.
“I've got ice lollies for both of you.” He smiles, but the girls continue to frown in their seats. “It's strawberry and mango.” Shoulder to shoulder, the two of them have their arms crossed atop their chests, eyes narrowed at poor Dora on the screen. “What's wrong?” Kneeling down, he nudges their knees playfully. “Do you feel sick?” Worry is etched on his brows as he stretches himself to check their temperatures with his palm on each of their forehead. “You two feel alright to me. C’mon, mac and cheese, tell dad what's wrong.” Now he's starting to really worry now that his girls are barely acknowledging him when they're usually dangling around his limbs by now.
“Nothin’” Ramona answers first, tone flat as she pouts at him. “Mum's askin’ for you.”
Before he could ask further, his son's crying echoes around the house, shaking him to his core. Your desperate voice has him standing up and giving the girls their candies before patting their heads as a promise that he'll come back to them right after.
With his familiar footsteps going up the stairs, your chest fills with relief as you bounce your baby boy in your arms. His cries has your heart aching, not to mention your back from carrying him. The door to the nursery creaks open, the exact culprit on why he woke up from his nap. Hobie has made a mental note to fix the squeaking hinges.
“Hobie.” You sigh, eyes begging him to come to your side. “I called the pedia and it's definitely his teeth that's bothering him.”
Hobie's arms are already reaching towards the baby, eyes gentle and soft as he coos and takes his son in his arms. “He just misses dad, hm, ain't that right, Kitt?” Once Kitt hears his dad's voice, he opens his eyes, a direct match of your own eyes, as he stares at his dad with his lips wobbling. Hobie beams at his son, bouncing the bundle carefully. “The teethin’ gel is in my pocket, love.” You ogle Hobie for a second, you can't help it when he's carrying Kitt so sweetly like that. He wears being a father well.
You take the small paper bag containing the medicine from his back pocket. Hobie smirks at you, eyes twinkling with mirth.
“How do you keep doing that? I swear he only quiets down in your arms.” Hobie chuckles, kissing your forehead as you lean down to squeeze out the medicine on your finger and carefully dabbing it on Kitt's gums, right where his baby teeth are popping out. “There,” you look into his big doe eyes, staring fondly at his nose that he got from his dad. “Feels better now, right, Kitt?” He gurgles in Hobie's arms, fingers making grabby hands at your face, which you immediately move to satisfy his need to be close to his mum. His tiny palms pat your cheeks until he's all worn out from the exercise. “I don't remember Billie and Mona having this kind of toothache when they were babies.” You keep smiling as you talk to calm him further.
“Speakin’ of the gremlins, why are they all pouty? Did somethin' happen while I was gone?” Hobie pulls you in closer by your hip, placing you on his side as you settle in on the crook of his neck. You nudge your nose on his jaw as if he was gone for days when he was only out for less than twenty minutes.
“They feel neglected.” You murmur in a small voice. “Oh god, I'm neglecting my girls.” Your small sniffs fill the room, urging him to hold you closer as you hide your face atop his skin. You blame your pregnancy hormones that are still left over.
It all clicks for Hobie, all the sulking, and their glaring at you and Kitt from the past few days, it all connects. “You made ‘em breakfast this mornin’, dressed ‘em up and did their hair. Trust me, love, you're not neglectin’ ‘em.” His free hand rubs up and down your spine, comforting you.
“Then why are they still sad? It's like I told them that the tooth fairy isn't real.” You embrace him and in turn Kitt, whose tearful eyes are slowly closing from sleepiness.
“You didn't do anythin’,” Hobie whispers to you, assuring you quietly with his lips kissing the top of your head. “They're jus’ jealous.”
You lift your head up to look at him with a raised brow. “Jealous? Of Kitt?”
“Yeah, like Kitt, they jus’ miss you.”
“Oh,” realization hits you, you've been so preoccupied with your son that you haven't noticed the twins practically begging for your attention whenever they get a chance. Especially when they get home after school. You still take care of them, make sure that they're okay, but you haven't spent much time with them these days. Just hanging around and giggling with them while you paint their nails or help them with homework. Your shoulders slump, hugging Hobie tighter. “I miss them.”
Hobie hums, eyes flicking towards the open bedroom door. “How much do you miss B and R?”
“So much,” you're still hiding on the crook of Hobie's neck, eyes fliting over Kitt's sleeping face and Hobie's smile. “A lot, I miss telling them bedtime stories, and picking them up from school.” Sighing, you hold Hobie's hand where he's holding Kitt in place. “I'm just so tired these days that I've forgotten to be a mum for them too.”
“You didn't, mummy.” Billie's small voice suddenly appears behind you. Tears prickling from her eyes, lashes stuck together by the unshed tears.
“Yeah, you're still our mummy.” Mona pipes up, sleeve subtly wiping at her eyes.
You're immediately crouching down to meet them, arms raised to the sides to hold them as they collide into you. “Oh, I'm so sorry, my girls.” You rub their backs, lips giving each of their cheeks a kiss. “We'll have a day together soon, okay? Just us three, do whatever we want.”
“Just us?” Mona moves away from your chest, eyes flicking over their dad and their baby brother. “What about, Kitty?” You smile at the nickname they bestowed upon their little brother.
“And dad?” Billie finishes.
You chuckle, heart filling with warmth as you give them much needed kisses until they're finally smiling. “They can come with us too.”
“Well, Kitt and I want a day to ourselves too.” Hobie adds, lifting up the sleeping Kitt slightly in his arms, pretending that your six month old is the one who's talking. “That's right, dad.”
The girls giggle, “thanks, dad.” They simultaneously say together as they give Hobie their sweetest smile.
Hobie winks at them, speaking their language and understanding what they really want. “Why wait? Kitt's sleepin’ and I could use the nap too.”
“You sure, Hobie?” Scooping the girls in your arms, you carry them despite your back aching. You'll carry them until you physically can't. For now, you'll settle for a bit of a backache just to see them smile and cuddle you.
“Yeah, love. Kitt and I will have our own fun.” Hobie crosses the small distance, kissing you chastely before pecking each of his girls' cheeks. “‘sides, the ice lollies are meltin’”
Billie gasps, wiggling out of your grasp. “The lollies! I left them on the couch.”
“You know what pairs well with ice lollies?” You ask as Billie lands back down on the rug with some help from you. “Cookies.”
It's Mona's turn to gasp, smiling from excitement and doing the same thing as her sister by wiggling out of your hold.
“I'll put on a movie!” She follows closely behind her sister, their giggles echoing down the stairs.
With some miracle, Kitt is still asleep.
Beaming up at Hobie, you give each of your boys a kiss, lips lingering a second more on Hobie's willing lips. “I'll save you and Kitt a lolly.”
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icarusredwings · 2 days ago
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Toast
(Yeah, he got the hello kitty toaster)
Sfw poolverinessa sick-ficlet
Cw: implied past eating disorder and cancer related puking
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Vanessa never really knew why, but some days, Wade ate a lot of toast. Sometimes half a loaf. He would visit the bathroom often and come back smelling clean. Minty or lemon scented.
He'd smile and say "Why not? I like toast." When asked why but secretly she wondered if there was more to it.
It wasn't until Logan came around that she finally figured it out.
Here, in the morning, Wade had toast for breakfast. Simple really. Just two slices with jam. She had noticed Logan's gestures moved away from the lunch plans they were talking about.
"What about that place on 6th street?" He has said before, but now was suggesting a movie marathon at home.
What had changed? Within a wordless instant, they had taken lunch off the table.
"Maybe for dinner?" She asks, getting a curious look from Logan and a smile from Wade. Subtle enough to be unnoticeable if you hadn't been with him for the last 10 years.
"Yeah! Maybe. I heard they take reservations, though." Was all that was said, but Vanessa squinted, peering into those deep yellows, searching for any sort of falsification.
"Yeah... maybe." She repeats, only for him to glance back at Logan, taking a big bite of the toast. "So what movies are we gonna watch? Whatever you want. I'm not picky." Wade says, another sharp bite.
"What? Oh yes, you are." The scuff man smirks. "You're prissier than a lil miss pretty in pink pagent show."
"And I think you've been spending too much time with Rouge." Wade giggled. "What do you think V?"
"I think hes right. You ARE prissy and petty... And pathetic."
"Oi, you love pathetic men." He says, shoving the rest of the toaste in his mouth, jam falling down his chin.
Rolling her eyes, Vanessa kisses his lips, licking the jelly off. "That I do.. and you smell.. different." The tone it's said in is suspicious. Because it kinda was.
"I changed my body wash. This one's supposed to be gentle on skin. Wolvie said it would be better for me, but I think it smells like ass."
"It's irratant free." Logan budded in, taking a sip of his soda. "Which includes those perfumes."
"Look peanut, you might be able to get away with being all naturel with your manly wolvie musk but I smell like death." Wade says, eating the other toast.
"That's kind of an insult to Death, isn't it?" She asks, shifting to grab the remote, scrolling through their options.
"Oh definitely. She smells like fresh bloomed flowers after it rains." He mutters, filled with longing and well- Toast.
"Well, don't go dying on us just to see her, 'kay bub?" It's taken as a jabe, this serious statment was. As all things were to Wade, who only laughs, getting up.
"Yeah, yeah. Alright, you two choose. Don't have too much fun without me." He says, heading off to the bathroom.
Hm. Nothing seems out of place just yet. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she had a feeling something was wrong.
When Wade returned, he smelt of artifical mint and that gross cheap spray that gas stations used in their bathroom. The lemon kind that smelled more like chemicals then actual lemons.
Ood, but not unusual. Maybe they just got minty bar soap. Who knows. Though she didn't remember seeing any.. huh.
____
Later, just as they were starting the second movie, Logan had brought a big bowl of buttery pop corn and again a plate of toast. This time buttered.
"Hold on. I gotta go to the bathroom again. You know. Kidney cancer shit. Go ahead and start without me." Wade says, waving them off as he leaves.
Blinking, for a second, Vanessa wondered. This was his 6th time going to the bathroom already and not every time, but most times, he would be in there for a good couple of minutes.
"Is he okay?" She asked Logan, who shrugged, having the toast in his lap, holding it. "About as okay as he'll ever be I guess."
"Soo no. Got it.. hey, can I ask you something?" Vanessa scoots a little closer, quieting down her voice as the starting credits play on the tv.
"If it's what I think, the awnser is no."
"What? No! Not that. God... men. I was gonna ask.. Why does Wade eat so much toast? Doesn't it give him a stomach ache? I thought he was allergic to gluten for a while." She adds, whispering.
Logan now tilts his head, giving her a stupid look only to soften into a 'Oh yeah' expression. "Right.. not everyone has my nose. My bad. Wade eats a bunch of toast because it settles and soaks up his stomach acid. Mentioned something about 'it's better to have something to throw up then nothing at all' too, which I hope is about the stomach cancer and not.. nevermind." He waves his hand, shaking his head. "It's true, though. Trust me, I've threw up a ton as a kid, and it was always better to have something in there."
"So... every time he..." She gestures to the bathroom vaugey with her hand. "He's.. puking?"
"Yeh.. kind of suprised you didn't know already. Though.. I guess it makes sense." Logan mutters, thinking.
"He's been hiding it from me.." It's a statement as if realizing this on her own, now processing.
"It's not really your fault. He physically can't hide it from me.. I can smell it. I can smell him crying and hear him brushing his teeth too." He mutters, looking at the bathroom door, that now clicks open and out comes a freshly cleaned up Wade, smiling that fake, appeasing grin.
Vanessa goes silent about the subject, only scooting back over and patting his seat between them. "You're just in luck. The movie just started."
Coming over, Wade sits between them, pulling his feet up to tuck under Logan's ass with a cheeky grin.
"Here. Eat." He mutters, handing the toast plate to Wade, who immediately begins to eat it.
"Ooh! Wolvie you salted it like I like!" He coes, shifting to lean agaisnt him, nuzzling his cheek.
"Mhm. I remember. Also... Vanessa wants to ask you something."
Her eyes widden, looking at Logan with that 'bitch!?' Look only to smile nervously, brows going together in a sense of tensity.
"Yes!" Wade boarderline chants.
"No! Not that! God.. you both are disgusting. I... I wanted to ask... Why did you feel the need to hide it from me-"
"Hide what? He immediately asks, cutting her off.
"The fact that you're throwing up........again.."
The volume of the pause is deafening. Enough for Wade's fake grin to drop, instantly turning to Logan as if he had just cut his heart out and sold it to the goverment (fuck the goverment, a voice echoed in his head)
"Why did you- i-.. I don't know what you're talking about." He laughs, forcibly.
Both of his partners stare at him, quiet and not finding this behavior any funny.
"I'm not! Ness I-i don't-"
"Wade..." Logan mutters, giving him a look.
Tearing up, Wade shifts, tensing and holds his plate tight. "B-but I'm not!!... not like that. I-i swear! I-..." a couple tears fall down his cheeks as Logan rubs his back, taking the chance of being injured. "Logan helped me get better."
This confession hurts to say. Ness knows it. The way his voice tightened and how panicked he got.
"That's.. not what I meant, sweetie."
"Oh...OH.. well fuck.. I- c-Cause it's fucking disgusting?? Why would I want you to worry 'bout me anyway? I don't need anyon' to carry my burdens for me. I can do it myself. A-and look mighty sexy doing it!" He says, wiping his eyes and sniffling, seeming to stop crying now that it was clarified.
"He's right about that last bit.. how you make insane seem sexy is beyond me." The flirt from Logan makes Wade smile, which is all that was needed at the moment.
"Pfft- like you're one to talk.."
"Wade, Sweetheart. You are not a burden and neither is your bullshit. Logan might have married you first but your bullshit is still my bullshit. Yeah?"
"V, I'm already the phyco guy who looks like half raw half burnt bacon, okay? I don't need to be known as 'the guy that pukes all the time' too."
She blinks, a little taken aback. "..Is that how you think we see you?" Taking his hands, she starts to talk, but Logan interrupts.
"That's a lot of words for 'Sexy motherfucker with a big mouth and nice ass' but sure. Potato patato."
Smiling again, Wade giggles. "Sttoopp... dont stop."
"I won't. But you gotta litsen to her yeah? Or shes gonna go all dommy mommy on you and make you write those affermations again."
"Fuckin' hated that..." Wade mutters, letting her thumbs rub over his rough backroad like hands, over his knuckles and up his wrists.
"And I'll do it again. You look at me and you listen good. You are way more to me then you will ever know. You are ever changing. Evolving. So is my love for you. No, you don't have to tell me every little thing, but telling me you don't feel good shouldn't feel like being a burden. Got it?"
"Mhm.." Wade was looking away, not wanting to look her in the eyes. No, because then he would be forced to see all the truth love in her eyes, proof against all the lies that his mind has made him believe.
"Wade Winston Wilson-" She states.
"Shit... you didn't have to goverment name me.." He whines, looking at her, seeing deep into her soul. She was telling the truth. She loved him. Bullshit and all.
Tearing up again, he makes a whimper sound, lips curling into the biggest frown. "Y-you mean it?"
"Of course I do.. you don't have to hide what's going on, baby.... now come lay on my tits and watch a medicore overhyped movie." She grins, shifting to let Wade curl into her, an arm wrapped around him, petting his head.
Logan scoots closer, putting an arm around them both, Holding the popcorn, smiling. Finally. Someone had shoved some sense into that stupid head of his. Maybe now he'd stop lying about having to pee so much.
Settling into their cuddle pile, Wade fells better, the toast filling his stomach, love in his heart, and eyes dry.
".....I have to puke again." He mutters, not even an entire 45 seconds of being in their grasp.
Both Vanessa and Logan sigh, letting him get up. "At this point just bring the trashcan, bub."
"I would, buuut you might mistake it for me-"
"Damn it, Wade!!"
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gretavanmoon · 3 days ago
Text
Valor - Troubadour
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Pairing: Daniel x OC
Word Count: 13k
Warnings: Cursin', Smokin', Drinkin'. Angst: Mention of Struggle and Poverty, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Mentions of Murder and Death, Allusions to Shady Activities, Mention of Police, Concealing a Fugitive. Smut: Flirting, Kissing, Unprotected Sex.
Hey everyone! Thanks for being here! Was really missing the Valor world (what's new) and decided to satiate my needs with a little Danny spin-off. This story picks up just a few months after Chapter 14 ends and before the Epilogue, when Danny has decided to busk around the Midwest in search of fulfilling his musical heart and hitting the open road on his motorcycle. This Danny side-quest story will only be a few parts, but hope you enjoy the ride!
Big thanks to my bestie & cowriter @gretavangroupie for all the edits and wonderful idea inputs <333
Read Valor Ch. 14 here
Read the Epilogue here
TOPEKA, KANSAS
DANNY
“Cheapest bottled you got, please. From the back of the cooler,” I yell over the crowd as I pull off my hat, raking the back of my sleeve across my forehead to clear away the dripping sweat threatening to fall into my eyes. I’m tired and my voice is a barely-there rasp, but these past few weeks have had me flying on auto-pilot, running on fumes and the new high of performing on stage with a live band, just like I’ve always dreamed of doing. The bar we’re in tonight is crowded and full of loud-mouthed drunks, but honestly, I feel frighteningly right at home. 
Glass beer signs line the walls and the pool tables are barely lit and in desperate need of some new bulbs. The faded green felt is tattered and torn, and the cues have seen better days. I can tell that every cent this place makes is not going to the upkeep of the building, that's for damn sure. The walls are dripping with nicotine and and the floors are sticky with spilled beer and god knows what else. Truly, feels just like Canaries, a place I thought I’d never see the likes of again.
The bartender furrows her brow at me as she turns toward the cooler, obviously thrown off by my odd request. As she slowly leans down, I can’t help but let my eyes rake over her backside, hardly covered by the ripped and cutoff Levi shorts hugging her hips and thighs. She pulls her hair to the side as she bends lower at the waist, reaching as far back as she can to get to the furthest beer. She’s bent completely in half, and I have to calm myself with a full breath of air to keep my thoughts from getting the best of me. It’s been a while, sue me.
I snicker to myself as I pop a few peanuts from the bar bowl into my mouth, satisfied that she fell right into my trap. 
Oldest trick in the book. 
Finally she pops up, returning shortly after with a frosty brown bottle in her hand. She unscrews the lid, tossing it against the wall at the end of the bar before it falls into the waiting trash can below it. 
“Just realized why you asked for one from the back of the cooler. You think I’m some kinda sleaze, or somethin’?” she asks, leaning her elbows down on the bar with just enough force to squeeze her tits together. Her hand is still damp from handling the icy bottle, and I watch as she gently rakes her fingertips across her collarbone. Hm… I am no stranger to her type.
I lift the bottle to my waiting lips and take a long pull, never breaking eye contact with her. Finally I swallow, leaning onto my own elbows to meet her challenging gaze. 
“Beer’s coldest back there. You think I want somethin’ warm after sweatin’ like a hog up there on stage all night?” I ask. “It’s goddamned hot in here.”
She scoffs and her eyes roll, standing back up straight as her expression tells me she is already over my shit. Still she looks at me, crossing her arms tightly across her chest, the faded words on her shirt barely legible anymore. “Just cause you play a little guitar don’t mean you can get whatever the hell ya want here,” she bites, her eyes now seething and sexy. 
I growl a little beneath my breath, flashing her a glance of my teeth. “Well it fuckin’ worked, didn’t it? I gave you a show, only fair you give me a little one, too…” I reply audaciously. 
“Fuck off, prick. ‘Fore I bar you,” she says, fighting back a smile. 
I stand and smile too, pulling a few bucks from my back pocket to lay on the sticky bar top. 
Her lips purse, “Band’s got a tab, you ain’t gotta pay now,” she explains, effectively ignoring the other patrons who are now nearly begging for the attention that she won’t stop giving to me. 
I bite my bottom lip as I squint my eyes at her. “I don’t like owin’ people. I’ll pay as I drink,” I insist as I take another swig off the top of my beer. “Unless of course, my money’s no good here?”
I watch her snap back in surprise as the music from the house band begins to swell from the stage behind me. Her tongue pokes through her lips as she blows the bright pink gum in her mouth into a bubble, eyeing me as it inflates and pops, and she pulls it back between her teeth. 
She slams her palm onto the money and swipes it from the bar top, spinning quickly as she heads to the cash register. 
“Danny, my man! Kickin’ ass and takin’ names!” Suddenly I feel the harsh palm of my new band mate Shawn grip across my neck, shaking me from side to side. He’s drunk already, but that’s to be expected of a front man who would rather chug a fifth of warm Jack Daniel’s before a show than warm his vocals up during sound check. “Hell of a fuckin’ set. Who the hell taught you how to pick a guitar, huh? The devil himself?”
I smirk a little, unable and unwilling to tell Shawn that yes, the devil was definitely with me for all the years I sat quietly in my room with my guitar, drowning out all the noise around me with whatever sound I could get to come from the damned thing. My foster parents, Ace… the revving of Valor’s engine all the nights that Jake suffered trying to fix her. 
“Just practice, I guess,” I yell back in his ear as he stumbles into me. “Practice and patience.” I’d never tell him the skill was born of necessity. He didn’t need to know that much. 
“Well, m’glad we found you on the side of the road when we did. You got more talent in your baby toe than Rog had in his entire fuckin’ body, man,” Shawn slurs, his own cocktail splashing onto my shirt as he speaks. “I mean that.”
I give him a curt smile and nod as he disappears back into the crowd, an elongated arm and pointed finger trained on me as he falls away. 
I couldn’t be more thankful for him and the other guys; they’d stumbled across me busking outside a little string of bars outside of Memphis right after we burned Ace’s down and I’d decided to hit the road on Ruby. I needed some space, I needed some freedom. And I needed the open fuckin’ road so badly I could hardly stand it. So that’s just what I did.
It was strange at first, being away from Jake and away from Joslyn after they were all I’d known for the majority of my life, but I knew deep down that if I didn’t go, if I didn’t leave, I’d get stuck right back where I’d started from in that goddamned town, running from the law and all the demons I’d decided to collect on the way. 
I knew Jake needed Y/N, and they needed to start a life together in privacy. I didn’t fuckin’ like it, bouncing from cheap motel to cheap motel, but after some time, I got over myself and my needs and began to rely on the road, and the sound of my tires spinning across it. I grew to love the feeling of a guitar in my hand more than the feeling of a socket wrench. And I began to like the sound of a loud, cheering audience more than the sound of a tuned-up Mustang engine. I reckon part of that is due to Y/N’s encouragement, getting me over my own fear of performing.
But that ain’t to say that I didn’t miss mechanicin’ a little. 
This band was full of miscreants just like myself, who had gathered together after realizing their talents and how much better they’d be if they meshed together. Their old guitarist, Rog was good, but he just didn’t have it in him, from what I understand. I didn’t want to settle down with a band, and honestly I’m still tossing around if it’s a good idea or not, but the money is alright. And sleeping in a shitty van beats sleeping under a tarp on a sidewalk or roach infested motel. Not that I am above that now.  
“Cowboy, your change?” I hear the bartender’s voice interrupt my thoughts, pulling me back into the headspace of the crowd and the chaos. 
“Nah, s’yours,” I reply to her, giving her a wink as she fights off another sweet smile, chomping on her gum again as she makes a point to give me a full up-down. 
Cowboy. I don’t like that. 
I’m far from a fuckin’ cowboy. Don’t think I’ve ever even mounted a horse in my life. I guess if I’m gonna continue to wear this cowboy hat, I’d better get used to the nickname. 
And if she’s gonna keep lookin’ at me like that all night, I’ll let her call me whatever the hell she wants. 
I drape the hat from a hook hanging on the motel room wall, making good on my new knowledge to never lay it down. I’d fallen asleep on a park bench one night a month or so ago with my guitar case open in front of me, and I’d woken up to the dirty old hat laying right in the center of it. Underneath it was the rip off the edge of a piece of receipt paper, some chicken scratch handwriting across the bottom of it: “Looks like you need this more than I do”, was all it read. 
I didn’t bother cleaning it, or trying in earnest to return it to its rightful owner, because they were right. A hat in the heat of the Kansas sun was like a godsend. It’s a pale beige straw with a camel brown leather strip, and I have to admit, it fits me like a glove. I made a mental note that day to take it with me wherever I go, and to always be thankful to the nameless stranger who had left it for me. Though it’s not my style, I still wear it with pride.
“Hat looks good on you, Cowboy. Sure you don’t wanna leave it on?” She smiles from her place on the bed. 
Yeah, I’d brought the bartender home with me, obviously, after we’d shared plenty of back-and-forth banter with one another between the few sets our band played tonight. She’d managed to get me pretty drunk after the last set, sliding me a double shot of whiskey on the house after I insisted on tipping her for every beer I’d ordered. 
I’d splurged on a king-sized bed tonight, forgoing joining the rest of the guys exploring the little Kansas town we’d found ourselves in. And I’m glad I did. The bartender, Sherry, I’d learned, is sprawled out in a red lace getup, making herself comfortable on the scratchy brown felt blankets and over starched sheets. She’s definitely fuckin’ sexy, and she’s easy to talk to, and I knew I’d made the right decision for the night when she didn’t actually get mad at me for my advances on her at the bar. She seems like just my kinda lover. 
I rip my t-shirt over my head and toss it onto the floor behind me before clicking off the lamp on the nightstand beside us. My mind is still swirling from the adrenaline of the crowd and the feeling of the music we make, and from the intoxication I’d put onto myself. Fuckin’ whiskey.
At the last second I change my mind, grabbing the hat from the hook before I crawl toward her on the bed, hand over knee as I place it directly on top of her head. 
“Yeah, I’m sure, think it would look better on you, anyhow,” I say, pressing it down a little to make it fit snugly on her. She giggles, reaching up to tilt the brim of it back to get a better look at me in the dim light reflecting from the cracked bathroom door. 
“You tryin’ to tell me somethin’, Cowboy?” she says, pushing me by the shoulders to lie back into the pillows. “Tryin’ to tell me what you want, tonight?”
She thrusts one of her legs over my waist, straddling me fully as she lets one hand drift across my ink-covered torso while the other readjusts the hat on her head. Fuck, she really is fine as hell. Has a different look to her than most of the women back in Joslyn. A little grittier, a little more confident in herself. My hands immediately grip her thick thighs as I lick my lips, glad she picked up on my insinuation. 
“I’ll take whatever you wanna give me, baby…” I say as my hips buck up into her, her bright red nails digging with a little force into my chest. My eyes blur from my drunkenness, but I can feel my heart racing with anticipation for whatever the night is about to bring me. The TV behind her is blasting late night MTV videos, Peter Gabriel, Dire Straits, ZZ Top… the light casting the silhouette of her perfect figure right in front of my face. Her tits are sitting perfectly in the lace, and I find myself slipping quickly into the feral mindlessness of foreplay. I reach my hand up to free her breast from the confines, gripping her left cup to rip it down. 
I feel my mouth salivating as her perfect nipple perks up, and I feel no shame in taking it all in my hand. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous baby…” I praise her, my filter nearly completely gone. I squeeze at it a few times before sitting up to take her in my mouth, bringing my tongue harshly across her nipple. Her head dips back at the contact as she sits down a little harder on me, grinding her hips a little and looking for friction. 
“Fuck, Cowboy, we’re really gonna get into this?” she asks, her hips already circling on my hardening dick. 
I hum onto her, making her hiss between her teeth. “Mmmhm, unless you want me to take you back home…”
“No no, no…” she urges, shaking her head side to side as it falls back, and I free her other breast, taking it into my mouth as well. “I’m good here.” 
Her nails dig into me a little bit more, showing me that if we want this night to keep going how it is, I need to get myself together. She huffs a loud breath as she sits back, unbuckling my leather belt as her hands start to hastily shake. Her head tilts down and she looks at me again under the brim of the cowboy hat, her bottom lip sucking in and out of her mouth. 
“You need a hand?” I ask, offering my help with the belt and button. She nods a little, and we work together to pull my pants and underwear all the way off. My dick springs free as she drops my pants to the floor and I can hardly decipher the string of words and obscenities that fall from her gorgeous red lips. She leans down, and without any warning at all, takes me all the way into her mouth. 
My head falls back in surprise as my hips act on their own, pressing themselves to get me deeper into her throat. “Oh, shit, Sherry baby…” My hands find hers, and I give them a tight squeeze to let her know that I’m okay with going forward. Not that I really had any say so, anyway. Her tongue glides across the length of my cock, already begging for more as she pays special attention to the tip. Her red lipstick makes for a sinful visual, even in the partial darkness. 
The air in the room is already starting to heat, heavy with the smell of lust mixed with cigarettes and bad decisions. I thought maybe I’d change when I left Joslyn, and I did, in many ways. But goddamnit if I didn’t keep the same fuckin’ love for my vices. Cheap beer, rolled smokes, and women. All shapes and sizes, all makes and models, fuck. I’ll never fuckin’ grow up, and I’m not sorry for it. And now I’ve added a whole new love to my roster- playing the ever-loving fuck out of a guitar. 
“You wanna look at me, or not?” Sherry breaks my train of thoughts after she pops her lips off the tip of my dick. 
I take a deep breath, watching as her hand takes the place of her mouth, slowly and languidly gliding her grip up and down the length of it. “Whatcha mean, baby?”
She crawls up on me, placing one hand on either side of my head. She leans down, placing the tiniest peck on my lips. “Reverse, or…” 
“Oh…” I breathe, my body begging for more of her touch, anything at all, anywhere. “Can I pick both?”
She laughs a true laugh, displaying a dimple in her cheek, crawling back down the bed and stepping off the end of it. Her thumbs hook in the side straps of her thong, and she slowly sways her hips from side to side, pulling it slowly down her legs. She shimmies free of it before turning around, bending at the waist as she gives me quite the show yet again, just like I’d tricked her into doing at the bar. 
“Fuck… bring yourself over here…” I beg of her again, holding my two middle fingers up to beckon her. My entire body is writhing with want, and I can feel myself already teetering on the edge of pleading. She does as I ask, her bottom half completely uncovered now as she crawls up on me once again, before turning herself around backwards. Yes, baby. 
She glances at me over her shoulder before taking me in her hand again, working me up to where she wants me. She uses the utmost care in making sure I’m there again. She’s still flawless in the blue light of the TV as “Every Breath You Take” by the Police pops on behind her.
“Ugh, god I hate this song,” she complains quietly, and I barely hear her over the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. I’m too blissed out with the visual of her ass grinding against me to even register what she’d said. 
“It’s so…whiney…” she complains again, her hand still working me. Her hand feels buttery soft against my cock, and I have to stop my stomach muscles from tightening in on themselves. God, I could already fuckin’ bust. “M’sorry Cowboy, I gotta turn this shit off. I can’t concentrate.” 
“Damn, whatcha got against Sting?” I chuckle, a little miffed that she’s hopping off me to reach for the television knob. She twists it once, and I huff an aggravated breath as the news pops on. 
It’s fuzzy and the picture is blurred, but I guess it appeases her more than the music did. She takes her position again as she grips my dick in her hand, leaning down just a little bit to take me in her mouth again. My hands knead at her ass as we pick right back up where we started from. My teeth are biting hard into my bottom lip, stifling the noise I want to let fly. “Goddamnit, Sher-“
Now, Sherry isn’t the first woman I’ve fallen victim to since leaving Joslyn, and she most definitely won’t be the last. Sometimes I think back on my time with Y/N, and how things had progressed so quickly with her before I got my head on straight and realized that I was moving in a direction my moral compass didn’t need to point. And when I realized my brother was madly in love with her. 
Things had felt good with her during that time, and honestly, I thank her for it. Though we only spent a fraction of time together, she gave me a taste of what it felt like to truly care for someone in that regard, and she let me know that maybe my heart is big enough to love someone other than just Jake and Bubba. Watching her and Jake together taught me more than they ever even knew, showed me that with the right counterpart, even lungs full of cigarette smoke and hearts full of resentment can turn on a dime, and reciprocate a love they’d never even known before. 
Love?
Nah, I never felt love for her. At least I don’t think I did. I did feel serious enough to want to change my life for her, that much was true. But thankfully I caught myself before I started to tumble. She helped me learn that I am capable of doing it, I can be that man for the right woman, if and when the time comes. 
But that time isn’t now, and that woman isn’t Sherry. 
“Fuck me, baby… god yes…” I groan into the thick air as Sherry finally sits all the way down on me, taking me fully inside her with one swift motion. I huff a fast breath through my gritted teeth, sitting up a little to get a better view of her. I grip her hips as she starts to rise up and down, getting a rhythm together as she starts to bounce. 
Her hands move from in front of her on the bed, and one reaches back and grips her left ass  cheek while the other holds on tight to my hat on her head. She feels like fucking heaven, silky sweet and velvety as she switches between backward thrusts. “How’s that, Cowboy? Feel good, baby?” she asks, her voice breathy as I watch her ass bounce against my thighs. She twists her head around to look at me with an eyebrow perked as she awaits my answer.
“Yeah… fuckin’ tight, baby, s’ perfect…” I could say more, but she switches herself up and hops to balance on just her feet, giving herself more space to ride me. She balances perfectly without the help of her hands, and somehow, the sight of her fucking just the tip makes me want to let it all go right there. Her wetness is dripping down on me, and it takes everything in me not to grab her hips and pull her all the way down again. But the show is just too damn good. I’m impressed, I really am, and I wonder if she does this with every victim at the bar that she flirts her way home with.
Ah, who gives a fuck. I’m her choice for the night just as she is mine. 
This view has me throbbing inside her, and for a second I don’t know what to do with my hands. She starts slowly swirling her hips, her hands balanced on her knees as she works me to near perfection. “You’re gorgeous baby, keep it right there…” I groan, my entire body starting to burn with need. I bring my open palm across her ass, eliciting a high pitched squeal from her, followed by a devious laugh. Somehow, I knew she would like that and the visual of my red handprint on her skin pushes me even further.  
I grab her hips and pull her down onto me, and I swear she feels even better than she did before. She falls back down to her knees into the position she was in before, still gyrating back onto me. I move my legs and sit up on my own knees, pressing a hand to her back as she leans down to all fours. I press deeper into her now, nearing myself closer and closer to the edge with this new angle. I feel rabid now, wanting to have all of her that I can in what I know will be this short span of time. 
“Ssss, fuck…” she grits, her voice a near whine now as I begin pounding into her ruthlessly. Her walls are fluttering around me violently, and I realize now that I never even told her my name. 
“Yes… yes…” She arches her back as she bucks her ass onto me, spreading her knees apart on the bed below and pressing her face into the mattress. “Harder, Cowboy, please…”
The hat is still hanging on for dear life as the room around me loses its shape, and all I can think about is the vicious sound of our bodies smacking together. I’m sure the neighbors are enjoying the sound of the headboard rattling against the wall, but I truly couldn’t care less. I’m trying to be careful not to leave bruises on her hip bones, but given the way the night has gone, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, anyway. 
Without warning, I feel her hand reach between her own legs, gripping my balls firmly in her hand, and giving them a few tight squeezes. The sensation has me mindblown and my knees weaken, like she knows exactly where my weakest spot is without me even telling her. 
“Fuck, you’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you?” I ask, my hips moving at an ungodly pace as she continues to squeeze. I’m not sure if she wants me to cum faster, or if she really just wants to give me a show. For this to be the first night the two of us have met, she’s really uncaring of any of her manners. 
“Mmhm…” her breath is heavy, pitiful and wanting as I continue my relentlessness. “Just want you to feel…good, baby…” she whines through the thick blankets on the bed. Her hands are gripped tightly into them now, as she holds herself in this position. 
I take a fistful of her hair in my hand tightly at the root, and pull her up to me. My sweat-covered chest is pressed against her back, and I grab one of her tits with my free hand. I stay buried deep inside her, and I can feel both our pulses raging through us as we catch our breath. “Sexy, Sherry…” I breathe into her ear. Her hips start looking for friction, and she begins grinding them back onto my cock again, slow and ragged as I know she’s getting near the finish line. 
She falls onto her hands again and I feel us both begin to reach that point, and the muscles in our bodies start to shake and tremble. My eyes blur over as I wait to hear the sweet noises fall from her lips, but instead I’m met with another sound. 
“Cowboy…” she says, her voice stern. But I barely hear her as I concentrate on my own pleasure. “Cowboy!” she repeats even louder, but I continue to drown her out, not letting up on pounding into her. 
“DANIEL?” she yells, quickly pulling herself away from me and hopping across the hotel room.
“What, what? What’s wrong Sherry?” I ask, suddenly surprised and confused. She rips a sheet from the bed and covers herself with it, and I notice that her eyes are blown out with fear. She cowers in the corner as her eyes dart back and forth, searching for her clothes. I’m completely confused, and a little blindsided as my body tries to figure out what it should be doing.
“You– I, it’s you!” She points to the TV as the picture flashes across the screen. All I see is the face of a news anchorman, reading something off the papers in his hands. 
I stand from the bed and walk closer to it, watching as he continues to read. “Sher, it’s just the news, what do you–”
“Get away from me!” she cries, stepping back harshly into the wall. “Don’t touch me!” She suddenly seems as if she is a trapped animal, searching for her escape.
I instinctively walk toward her. “Sherry, what in the world?! I’m sorry if I–”
“Stop! Don’t come any closer! You fucking liar!” Her eyes are wide and terrified as she looks at the television again, and I’m nearly frozen in place as I try to piece together the past few seconds. I look from her to the TV again, and the picture is staticy and fuzzy. I back away from her and adjust the antenna, watching as the picture clears a bit. I turn up the volume and listen to the anchorman speak. I feel my legs hit the back of the bed and I sit down harshly, waiting to see what in the fuck Sherry saw for myself. 
“Authorities are asking for the public’s assistance in locating these men, as they are believed to be armed and likely dangerous. It is positively believed that they are directly responsible for the death of a man in Joslyn, Missouri, by means of murder by arson. Both men fled the town shortly after the incident, and are believed to be living separately, or traveling on the run.” My hand shoots to my mouth as I watch in complete terror as a sketch of mine and Jake’s faces cover the TV screen. “Authorities are just now building a solid case, and need your help in finding these men. If you have any information regarding their whereabouts, please call the telephone number at the bottom of your screen.”
I feel the blood drain from my body as I take the first breath I have in nearly a minute, and I feel myself going into a state of shock. 
What… the fuck…
I feel Sherry’s body rush toward me as she drops the sheet that was covering her to pick up the clothing she had strewn across the dingy carpeted floor. “I gotta get out of here…” she rushes, her hands shaking. 
“Sherry, listen to me. I can explain-”
“Explain? Explain what?! That you’re a murderer?!” she screams, and I watch as fearful tears begin to well in her eyes. She hastily pulls her shirt over her head and I listen to her breathing pick up as she tries to calm herself. 
“I’m not a murderer, Sherry! Listen to me! I swear you have no reason to be afraid of me…I–I just let me talk, please…” I beg her, my voice rising with the temperature of my skin. 
“Stop. Shut up. I’m getting away from you, and I’m callin’ the police,” she says through a completely shaken voice as she steps back into her shorts. I can tell she is in complete self-protection mode. 
What in the fuck is going on? How did this happen?
My heart rate starts to rise as everything hits me… the sketch of my face on the screen, Jake’s face… armed and dangerous, wanted for murder by arson… My head is spinning with confusion, with worry, with the sudden want to run, myself. I think about Jake, and about Y/N, and how I haven’t spoken to them in a few days. Do they know? Where is Bubba, are he and Geraldine okay?
It’s then that I realize I can’t let Sherry go, I can’t let her call. 
“Sherry, stop. Can you just listen to me for a second?” I ask again, grabbing her by the shoulders with as little force as possible. She tries to pry herself away, so I switch gears, knowing that if she isn’t going to listen, I have to use another tactic. “You do not need to get into this, this goes a lot deeper than it looks on the surface, Sherry. Please. I’m not a monster. I swear to god, I’m not.”
“You expect me to fuckin’ believe you? You never even told me your fuckin’ name! Daniel, is that even it?” she cries, the tears flowing down her face. 
“Yes! Yes, that is my real name. That much is true. And the other man, that’s my brother. His name is Jacob. Jake,” I explain, trying to throw sincerity into my already panicked voice. I adjust her shirt that she had pulled back over her head, straightening the fabric to cover her more. “We are from Joslyn, Missouri. And… And-”
“And you fucking killed a man!” she yells, ripping herself from my hold. “You’re insane! Are you a serial killer? Because if you are, I swear to god that you won’t leave this goddamned town in one fuckin’ piece, do you understand me?” she threatens, catching her breath. “I’ve got friends, Cowboy, friends in low fuckin’ places who would walk to the ends of the earth for me. I wouldn’t test my fuckin’ luck. All it would take is one call, and you’d be a dead man, yourself.”
I watch as she swallows, suddenly feeling a bit brave as the sexual mindset completely leaves us both. 
“I don’t doubt it, Sherry. I don’t doubt that one bit.” I swallow down my panic and sit back down, trying to diffuse the situation as best as I can. In a split second, I bargain whether or not I should tell her the whole story, the whole truth, but I know that would leave her with more questions that I fear she simply won’t care to have answered, as scared as she is. I want to be honest with her, I really do. But I also want to seem as clueless as I can so as not to make things worse. “I’m not a serial killer. I swear to god. I may look rough around the edges, and barely have a penny to my name, but I’m no killer, Sher. Swear on my life.”
She’s clutching her purse in her arms, hugging into herself with her worried facial expression tight as she takes my words into consideration. She’s listening to me…
“Back at home, my brother Jake and I were into some deep shit, some shit we didn’t want to have anything to do with, but we had no choice. Had been years upon years of never ending cycles of threats and manipulation. We had nothing, we were nothing. We weren’t saints, but we were good, honest, working men. Just tryin’ our best to survive, ya know? We uh… we were being threatened, our lives were being threatened… our home. The people we loved…” I rub a hand across my face as all the memories of just a few months ago come rushing back to my mind. Bubba, Josh… and Sam…
“It was going to end badly. It was going to be deadly in ways that we couldn’t even fathom. Along with innocent people who loved us getting caught up in it, too. These men were monsters, liars and cheats. Gave a damn for no one but themselves. So we got some help. We got some help from our own friends in low places, Sher, and they helped us to make moves to end it, get us out of the situation. And it uh… It just so happened that the man who was threatening us, the man who wanted us dead, got caught in the crossfire. He came to kill us, but ended up killing himself, instead.” I know it’s not the entire truth, and there are details that I could go on about for days, but for now, this explanation will have to do. I have to make sure she sees my side of the story. If not, it’s handcuffs. 
I feel bile rising in my throat from even disclosing this much. She shouldn’t even know that much of the story. I could have lied, I should have lied… but for some reason something deep inside me stops me from it. I’ve never been a liar in my life and I won't start now.
Sherry’s body is shaking with adrenaline, or maybe even fear, but she’s calm. “Why you tellin’ me this, Cowboy?” she whispers, pulling out a box of cigarettes from her purse. She plucks one out and lights the end, taking a long drag. Her hand shakes as her thumb and ring finger balance on her cheek, the smoke billowing around her face. 
I swallow. “Because, it’s the truth. Last thing I’m gonna do is lie to you. Don’t have any reason to.”
She takes another long puff, and I find myself envying the nicotine. “Why ain’t you lyin’ to me? You don’t even know me…”
I shake my head, pulling the sheet back over my exposed lower half. “I’ve never been one to lie. Never really got me anywhere but in trouble, anyway. I ain’t got a perfect past, Sherry, that’s the honest truth. But I’m not running from my demons, I’m running from a past that I don’t want followin’ me.”
She brings her lips into her mouth, taking another few puffs of her cigarette. I say a prayer that she’s considering my plea. It feels like hours that I stare at her just standing there, her eyes floating around the room before her cigarette is nothing but a filter. She moves to the nightstand, putting out the butt in the ashtray by the phone. She turns her back to me and blows the last puff of smoke into the air before her hand scratches the back of her head. 
“I ain’t gonna call the cops,” she admits quietly. 
I stand quickly and go to her, stopping myself from taking her in a full embrace. “Fuck, thank you thank you, Sherry. Really, I– Thank you.”
“You’ve got one hour. Get your shit, and get the fuck out of here,” she warns, crossing her arms again. “If I see you here still, it’s straight to the police. And don’t ever come back to this town, do you understand?”
“Yeah, yeah I get it. I won’t,” I promise as I begin working to collect my few things from the floor. She stands and watches me as I pack, and I know that she’s fighting the urge to go back on her word as her eyes move from me, to the phone, to the door, and back again. This is taking a lot from her. 
I finally have my few items shoved into my bag, and I realize that reality is once again hitting me right across the fucking face. I sit on the edge of the bed and pat the blankets, inviting Sherry to come and sit by me. She does, slowly, and with the utmost caution. 
“Why you helpin’ me?” I ask quietly. 
“Cause,” she chokes, pulling her tongue to the side of her cheek. “Feel like you’d’a done the same for me. I’ve been where you are, Cowboy. Maybe not for arson, maybe not for murder, but I’ve been there.”
I nod in understanding, extremely thankful understanding.
“And I don’t feel like you’re tellin’ me the whole story. Sounds like you and your brother have some skeletons in your closet. And I ain’t no judge, and I ain’t God. Who am I to decide what your reasonin’ was?”
I take a deep breath, suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude for her words. I take her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips to kiss over and over. “I need you to understand that it was life or death for us. Was us or him. The cards we were dealt just happened to fall that way. We did nothin’ in cold blood, Sherry. Please believe me.”
She finally looks me in the eyes for the first time in a while. “I believe you, Daniel. I don’t fuckin’ know why, but I do. God, I’m insane for doin’ this…”
“You might be, Sher, but that’s why you and I were drawn to each other, I think,” I try to lighten the mood, and she gives me a half smile.
“Still don’t like you,” she groans, giving me a lethal side eye.
I stand and wipe my hands across my thighs. “You must like me some…” I lean down to her, letting my nose graze across hers. To my surprise, she doesn’t pull away. I hear her breath hitch as I watch her reason with herself on deciding to let me, or slap me. 
When she doesn’t pull away, I lick my bottom lip, gently brushing it across hers as her eyes flutter closed. My heart rate rises again as my body reacts, suddenly pulled right back into where we had just left off minutes ago. I must be fuckin’ sick in the head. 
“Fuckin’ vagabond,” she whispers, her breath hot across my lips. “Criminal…”
I laugh against her. “I ain’t none of them things, baby. Troubadour, maybe…”
I let my lips crash onto hers again, pissed at myself for being this way. Why am I this way? I need to run…I need to call Jake.
But she kisses me back, her hand immediately flying to the back of my head to pull me in closer. God, she’s just as fucked up as I am.
It’s heated and messy again as I push her back onto the bed, her nails already digging into my back as we writhe together. She moans into my mouth as I press my groin into her, making sure I’m in just the right spot. We lie like this for a few minutes, both of us knowing we’re soaking up the last bits of each other that we’re going to get.
“I ain’t lettin’ you fuck me again, Cowboy. This is just a goodbye kiss…” she breathes, her teeth nipping at my stubbled jawline. 
“You sure?” I ask as my eyes roll back. “I never got to hear you come for me…”
She laughs a guttural cry, shaking her head as she scoffs at me. “And you won’t. Not right now, at least.”
I grind between her legs again. “Thought you told me to never come back to this town?” I ask cheekily.
I pull away, looking her in the eye as she takes a quick breath to speak. “People saw me leave with you. Same people who are watchin’ the news, right now. They will recognize you. They’ll be breathin’ down my neck with interrogation on your whereabouts before the sun rises. I was a drifter once, too. Looks like I’ll just have to go back to my old ways…”
“Run with me, Sherry,” I ask before my mind can even process the thought. 
“Nah, that’s not part of the deal.” She pats my chest with her hands, signaling me to get off of her. So I stand, understanding that our time together has come to a close, and I need to make a fuckin’ break for it. “Shame, though. You’re some of the best dick that’s come through this town in a while.”
I can’t help but laugh at her as she stands from the bed along with me. “Thanks, I think.”
“Get the hell out of here, Cowboy. Go. Don’t talk to nobody, and keep your head down. Head East and don’t fuckin’ look back, ok? There’s a fueling station about twenty-five miles outside of town on Route 40. Red pumps. Stop there, they don’t think twice about drifters. Call your brother from there. Let him know you’re comin’.”
“How’re you so good at this?” I ask her, slinging my bag over my shoulder. 
She sucks her teeth as she fixes her hair and residual lipstick in the motel mirror. “Told you I was a drifter once, too. Some things are just in your blood, ya know?” She turns to me, craning her neck up as we prepare to say an actual goodbye. 
“Can I give you somethin’ to remember me by?” I ask, holding my cowboy hat out to offer to her. 
She shakes her head, taking it from my hand and placing it back on top of my curls. “No, you’re gonna need it. It’s gotten you this far…” She adjusts it on my head, brushing a few stray hairs away from my face, in an act of pure softness. “Actually, wait,” she says, brushing past me to open her purse sitting on the table. A few seconds later, she emerges with a brand new Polaroid camera in her hands. “How about a photo to remember you by?” 
I second guess it, not really wanting a perfect stranger to have her own photograph of me, but Sherry has shown me more mercy than I deserve tonight, and a photo is the least I could do. 
“Sure, why not,” I agree, adjusting the hat on my head once again. 
“Here, put these on,” she suggests, handing me my aviator sunglasses that were by her bag on the table. I oblige, feeling a little out of place, but going along with it all anyway. She pulls the camera up to her eye and positions her finger over the button, making sure I’m in the frame. “Smile for me, baby…”
I know my cheeks blush at her words, but she snaps the photo before I have the chance to make myself look ready for it. 
“Hope I didn’t break your lens,” I joke.
“Nah, it’ll be perfect. Thanks.” Her smile sends butterflies through my stomach for the third time tonight, and if things were different, I might have asked Sherry to come on the road with me for real. But I know that the issues I’m running from are bigger than anything she needs to be involved with, right now. Maybe I’ll see her again some other time, in some other smoky bar.
I grab her chin between my fingers, laying a sweet kiss to her lips. “I’ll see you around, Sherry. Thank you. Be safe out there.”
She gives me a sweet wink as she sniffs a quick tear away. “Back at ya, Cowboy.”
“Come on… please pick up… pick up…” I whisper into the payphone as I try to will Jake to answer on the other end. The last we spoke was about six days ago, and he and Y/N had been traveling around scoping out places to live. They’d settled in a little apartment just outside of Memphis, where I had originally planned on busking around to make some cash. I liked it there, but the winds of change kept me rolling down the road to a new nowhere.
I’d ridden into this tiny slice of highway with only my guitar on my back and my bag hooked to Ruby, and I silently thank her for carrying me this far on my journey. The guys in the band had let me put her in the cramped equipment trailer that they had luckily left unlocked when I left the motel. Careless sons of bitches, I could have easily stolen anything I wanted.
I hated leaving them without any word, but they’ll most likely see the news, and be glad that I decided to run away, anyway.
“Hello?” a gravelly voice answers.
“Jake, hey, did I wake you?” I yell anxiously into the payphone at the gas station Sherry had told me about. She had been right, the attendant never even looked at my face as I threw my gas money onto the counter.
“Yeah, it’s fuckin 4AM, what’s wrong?” he replies, his voice thick and full of sleep. “Are you OK?”
Fuck. Of course he hasn’t seen the news. 
“Ah, no not really… are you uh. Are you with Y/N?” I ask, running my fingers through my hair as I peek around the corner to make sure Ruby is still sitting where I parked her. 
I can hear him rustling on the other end of the line, finally getting his bearings. “Yeah, she’s right here, why? What’s goin’ on?”
I clear my throat nervously, “Turn on the news. Local, maybe.”
I hear him rustling around again as he pulls himself out of bed, taking a deep, shaky breath as he wakes Y/N. “Danny, I don’t like that you’re not fuckin’ tellin’ me what’s going on.”
“Just go,” I urge him, my head on a swivel. 
There’s a pause before I hear him move around and switch the television on. “You’re lucky, we just got this fuckin’ TV yesterday… Hardly know how to work the damn thing yet.” he complains.
“Just–” I bite my tongue, waiting for him to see what he will inevitably see flash across the screen very soon. There’s a pause again and I hear the faint sound of Y/N’s voice beside him.
“Oh my fuckin’ god,” he says blankly. “Oh… oh, fuck. What–”
“Just listen to it,” I say quietly, letting him listen to the whole news story. 
“That’s our fucking faces, Daniel.”
“I know. I know it is,” I begin to pace as far as the short payphone cord will let me. “What the fuck are we gonna do?”
I hear Y/N’s worried voice again. “Jake, what… they can’t do this…”
“It’s gonna be okay, baby” he reassures her, but I can hear the doubt in his voice. “Danny, where are you?”
I clear my throat again, getting my head back on straight. “Uh, just outside of Topeka. ‘Bout 25 miles. I’m headed your way.”
“Do you know my new address?” he asks, overtop of more rustling and heavy breathing.
“Yeah,” I reply, “got it memorized.”
“Well forget it. We’re going somewhere else. We can’t be here,” he says angrily. 
“Jake, but, you just–”
“Y/N, do you remember Oz’s address? Lucienda’s?” I hear him ask her, and I immediately agree that going to them might be our best shot, even though Oz is most likely still serving his time for the last circus we got ourselves into.
“Yeah, I think so…” I hear her reply. “But Jake, we can’t just leave…”
I hear subtle aggravation in his tone, but he manages to keep it at bay. “I paid ahead three months’ rent, Y/N. We’re just… gonna leave for a while.”
“Jake what the fuck are we gonna do? Turn ourselves in?” I press. 
“I–I don’t know yet. No, we just play dumb for now. We need to get to Lucienda. Talk to her. She’ll be able to protect us for a while, she’ll know what to do,” he says. 
“I’ve got my fuckin’ bike, Jake. I won’t be able to make it anywhere fast, especially not to fuckin’ Miami,” I say, suddenly a little panicked again. I pull my tin of smokes from my pocket and light the end of one. The rush of nicotine instantly fills my lungs and calms me. Well, enough for now. 
“I know you can’t,” he says, taking a breath. “We need to go back to Joslyn first.”
“Joslyn?” I practically yell into the phone. Quickly looking around. “Are you fuckin’ crazy?! That’s the last place we need to go, Jake!”
But in the back of my mind, I know he’s right. We don’t have to show our faces, just a quick in and out to hide my bike and grab the last bit of cash we ended up hiding back in Ace’s safety deposit box for emergencies. And, we have to make sure Bubba is safe. With this new surge of information, god knows whether or not Teddy’s guys have gone after him yet, looking for some type of vengeance.
“You know I’m right…” he says quietly. “How long has it been since you’ve talked to Bubba?”
I swallow, taking another drag. “Week and a half. Maybe two.” I hadn’t been traveling with the band very long, but I know that I had told Bubba of the good news of them hiring me on, so it was around the same time. The last we talked, he claimed he was safe and sound. 
“Same here,” Jake says, taking a long pause as he thinks. “Get to Joslyn, stay quiet. We’ll meet at the old house by the creek. Nobody even knows that place is there anymore. It’s our best bet.”
“Okay,” I agree, nodding my head. “You gonna call Bub? Or do you want me to?”
“I’ll call the diner. Tell Geraldine everything. She’ll tell the truth, Bubba will sugarcoat if there’s anyone fuckin’ with him.”
“True,” I agree, exhaling again. “We can’t get on a fuckin’ plane, Jake. Someone will recognize us. It’ll take us days to travel to Miami and we need to get there fast.” My mind suddenly starts to spin with all the different plans of action. None of them seem like the right one. Traveling to Miami seems like too much land to cover, but staying in Joslyn doesn’t feel right, either. 
“Then what the fuck do you suggest we do?!” he exclaims. “We ain’t got a fuckin’ home, anymore, Daniel.” I can tell he whispers that last bit into the phone. 
“I’ll meet you at the creek. We’ll make a plan from there.” I stomp my cigarette out onto the cracked pavement, my skin beginning to sweat with nerves as I glance around again. 
“Okay,” he says again through a huff of grievance.
“Bub’s okay, right Jake? He’s alright?” my voice feels hollow as the words fall. 
I can hear Jake exhale on the other end, the same rush of worry flowing through him as it runs through me. “Yeah, he’s alright. And if he’s not… If they’ve touched him again…” He’s quiet for a second, and I can almost hear his teeth gritting together. I know that the exact same thought is running through both of our minds. I haven’t seen Jake mad in a really long time, but I know it wouldn’t take much for him to snap back into his old ways, especially when it comes to Bubba.
“I’ll see you at the creek,” I say with conviction, and I hang up the phone, wholly not ready for this journey. 
Well, here I am. Joslyn. Dirty and run down as ever, quiet but loud at the same time. A once bustling town rich with life and aspiring men looking to provide for their families now a mess of cracked sidewalks and sunken rooftops. Failed and closed storefronts, abandoned homes… the list goes on. This place is never gonna fuckin’ change. 
It’s been a long two days’ travel coming back here, and I halfway regret not renting a vehicle to be a little more inconspicuous coming back into town. But, an unknown car rolling through Main Street might set people off all the same. 
My stomach churns with old nerves coming back to the surface again, old habits and muscle memory making me feel like my head is already on a swivel again. It’s nearing 8PM as I roll into town, so I’m careful not to hit the throttle on my bike any more than just a light idle. The last thing I need is someone hearing me and suspecting I may be back.
As the late evening sun begins to disappear from the sky, I pass by Wanda’s motel, still just as shitty and run-down as it was. Teddy’s dry cleaning building, now looking either half-alive or closed completely since he’s not around to make it look like an actual fake business now. The bank, the countless churches… and the grocery store. 
The grocery store. 
I grit my teeth as I realize that Jake, Y/N and I will need supplies and food if we’re going to be hiding out in the old cabin for a few days. I hope to god his ass thought to bring blankets and pillows, and hopefully some food. I wonder if they’ve beat me here. I have no way of knowing, besides going all the way there first to check, but then if I don’t stop, I risk spending a whole night without food or water. Or whiskey.
I quietly pull my bike into the back parking lot of the store, parking it alongside the building behind the ice cooler. My hands are already shaking, I have to admit, and as I pull the kickstand down, my eyes dash quickly to my sides to ensure no one has followed me. Just a few stray bodies here and there coming in to grab a TV dinner before retreating back to the trailer park to finish off a six-pack. The coast is seemingly clear. 
I pull a cigarette from my tin and stretch my legs, hyping myself up to go into this grocery store where nearly everyone knows my face. Or, knew my face. After a minute or two, my boot extinguishes the butt of my smoke and I take a deep breath, the finally-cooling Autumn air filling my lungs and bringing me back down to earth a bit. I grab the cowboy hat from my pack and place it diligently on my head, tucking my hair up underneath it to conceal another one of my identifying factors. I pull out my wallet to make sure I still have enough cash for some food, at least, and I step in through the glass doors. 
It looks and smells exactly the same, musty cardboard mixed with the faint scent of a floor cleaner, with the fluorescent lights overhead barely providing enough light to brighten the poorly stocked aisles. I don’t know why I expected it to be any different, we’ve only been gone a few months, though it feels like an eternity. 
I put my head down and make a mad dash down the first aisle, luckily remembering the place like the back of my hand. I grab a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a box of saltines, tossing them into a shopping basket I’d found abandoned in the aisle. “What else, what else…” I whisper to myself, ignoring the eyes of each and every person I walk by. My heart is thrumming in my chest as I pace up and down the aisles, throwing a few more cheap yet necessary items into the basket. 
When I’ve finally gotten it full, I race to the checkout line, but not before stopping and grabbing a half-pint of Early Times, a box of matches, and a bag of cut tobacco. I place my basket onto the checkout counter, keeping my head down still as I realize the clerk is someone who knows me well. Knows me very well. 
“You 18, kid? Can’t sell you this if not…” he says, his voice still just as crackled and raspy as the day I met him. He stands the whiskey bottle up on its base as I swallow my nerves down, one by one. He cranes his neck to look at me from underneath the bill of my hat. 
“Kid, hey, you got any ID on ya?” he asks again, his wrinkled hands the only thing I can focus on. Fuck. He sees my ID, he recognizes me. Recognizes me as the murderer on the loose, in the very town he ran from. My heart is pounding, how had I not thought of this? He’s never ID’d me before, but then again, he knew me. He snaps his fingers when he realizes I’m not meeting his eyes or answering him. 
I peek up gently, thankful that I’d decided to leave my sunglasses on at the last minute. “Ah, ya know, left it at home, I think. Had a long day. I don’t need the bottle,” I say, trying like hell to conceal my voice, yet keep my local accent. I push it to the side as I pull my wallet out and prepare to pay for the rest. 
“Shit,” he says under his breath. He scans the whiskey and slides it into a paper bag, slipping it in beside the rest of my items before hitting the total button on his register. “Ain’t no thing. Can tell ya hands is dirty, can’t deny a workin’ man his vices,” he grits quietly. “That’ll be $19.70,” he says a little louder now, and I feel a relief lift from my shoulders, all the sound coming back into my ears now that my heart rate isn’t flying. 
I can finally hear the muffled music coming over the speakers in the ceiling, along with the beeps of the checkout lines beside me. I pull a twenty from my wallet and graciously place it in the man’s hand. It’s funny, all the years I’ve been coming to this place, and I never learned this man’s name. He doesn’t even wear a nametag.
“Appreciate that, old timer. Saved me a night of sittin’ with my troubles,” I reply, avoiding his eyes again as he hands me my change. 
“Don’t we all need that,” he grumbles as he hands me my bags. “Ya know, I don’t recognize you. You from ‘round here?”
Goddamnit, goddamnit. Think.
“Uh, yeah. From up on Bolter Street. Been gone awhile, moved back to take care of my folks,” I say, clearing my throat. I used to live on Bolter Street, many many moons ago. That part isn’t a lie.
“Hmph,” he grunts, pulling a toothpick between his lips as he squints at me. “Not a lot of folk live on Bolter much anymore. Street kinda died with the town.” I can tell his tone is interrogatory, and I feel the sweat beginning to pool on my forehead. Get it together, Daniel. 
“S’why they called on me.” I nod and give him a curt smile as I begin to back away. “Have a good evenin’, sir.”
I grab the bags and tip the brim of my hat, making my way back out of the store and into the fresh air. “Fuck,” I breathe as I reach my bike. That was fuckin’ close. If it was that hard to get groceries, how in the hell are we going to do literally anything else?
I cram the bags into my side packs, uncaring if I smash the bread or not. I’m anxious, and desperately in need of a damned drink. I wish like hell I could go to Canaries’ for a beer, but who knows what state that hellhole is even in, anymore. Or if the clientele is even the same. Shit, that place used to be a haven for people like us, until it wasn’t. Until Teddy and his crew turned it into a place where you had to look over your shoulder every other second, or else you risked a cue stick across your back if you said a sly word. 
I need to make my escape, and I need to make it fast. 
I kick the stand on my bike and pull the key from my pocket, sticking it into the ignition and turning it over a few times before she starts. I plan to take as many back streets as I can to avoid going straight through town again, but that’s not as easy as it looks. Passing by the diner is going to be necessary. 
A minute or so later, I’m cruising by Louie’s Diner, the parking lot only holding two or three vehicles as opposed to the normal ten or twenty. Strange, I think to myself, and I slow down and peer in the windows a little more closely. There behind the counter is Geraldine, looking worse for wear than I had seen her in a very long time. Maybe ever, actually. My heart falls as I realize she looks nothing like herself. Her hair isn’t fixed, and her nails aren’t painted their normal bright, red color. 
I quickly glance to the end of the bar where Bubba normally sits, finding the chair to be empty. Again, my stomach falls at the realization that he isn’t there, waiting with Geraldine to finish up her dinner shift like he normally is.
Shaking my head, I concentrate my attention back onto the road in front of me as the abandoned houses begin to turn back into the forest, and the two-lane turns back into one. I snap my headlight on as I rack my brain, trying to think of where Bubba could be, if he is okay, and why Geraldine looks so down. My stomach churns with nerves at the possibilities, but I hold out hope that maybe he had just gone home for the night, and Geraldine is just tired. 
I cruise down the winding road toward the creek, trying like hell to breathe in the fresh air to calm me. I pray I don’t pass any police cars, or anyone who would recognize my bike. But as the asphalt turns to more of a rocky concrete beneath my tires, I begin to feel a little relief. Man, I could really use a fuckin’ smoke. 
I cross over the bridge and turn onto the dirt road, the same one that Jake, Ace, Bubba and I had used so many times to get to our special spot on the creek. Darkness has fallen now, and I find myself feeling a little nostalgic at the scenery. For the first time in months, I see things that I could recognize even in complete darkness, I take curves that I could turn blindfolded, and I begin to smell the scent of the murky water and mossy trees that line the creek. No matter how much I hated it, no matter how badly I wanted to run away, this will always be home. Joslyn will always be a place that lives in my heart, no matter how dusted and horrible the time I spent here was. 
I make another right turn, watching for any other vehicles to be parked and out for one last late-night fishing pole cast before the weather starts to break. When I find our spots to be empty, I gain yet another feeling of relief. The gravel turns into thick bedrock, and I use caution as I navigate Ruby down, all the way to the bridge by the swimming hole. 
I park the bike at the foot of the hillside and stand, remembering that I have a spare flashlight in my pack, equipped with brand new batteries. I dig it out and turn it on, slowly panning around to take in my surroundings again. It still looks just the same as it always did, the large leaf-covered trees leaning over the water to provide almost a storybook-like scene. But this town is anything but a storybook. The frogs and crickets know that their time is almost up, and their songs have begun to slow and their tones have become deep. Again, my nostalgia almost knocks me over. 
I push my bike over to a cluster of trees, lodging it between a few trunks out of sight of the road. I bite the flashlight between my teeth and begin pulling my bags and necessities from my side packs. My guitar suddenly feels like a burden, when for months all it was was an object of comfort. Now, it feels like something that might weigh me down the further along I go on this journey. Either way, I throw the makeshift rope case strap over my shoulder and begin lugging my things across the old bridge, straight toward the cabin. 
As I trudge through the thick mud, thankful for my high boots, the beam of my flashlight catches something reflective down the creek a bit, and I nearly drop all the bags in my hands. “Shit,” I gasp, gripping my hands onto everything more tightly. I glance over, realizing that my light had bounced off a tail light. I walk a little closer and shine the light more directly, seeing that the tail light belongs to Jake’s truck.
“Son of a bitch,” I mumble with relief, suddenly realizing that I’m not alone in the least. My best friends are just on the other side of this treeline. Not just my best friends, but my family. 
I put a little pep in my step, letting the thick pine branches pull at my sleeves as I traipse along the muddy creek bed, straight up the incline and onto the trail to the cabin. I feel excited to see them, but also in the back of my mind I know that our meeting isn’t going to be a joyous one. It’s going to be one of deciding on our next move of survival. 
After a few minutes’ hike, I’m finally to the clearing at the cabin, and what I see in front of me isn’t what I expected in the least. Instead of the old, dilapidated building I had spent many a summer in, the cabin is now more of a house, with a new roof, a repaired front porch, and even a brand new front door. What in the hell?
I see a faint light on inside, and I stop for a second, hesitating on whether or not to proceed. Is someone living here now? No, no one knows about this place except for us. And maybe a few trusted others who have caught word of it over the years. 
If it weren’t for me seeing Jake’s truck, I may have considered turning around, but just as I approach the rickety stairs of the cabin, the front door flies open, and a silhouette that isn’t Jake is standing in the doorway. 
“Daniel, my boy! You made it!”
“Bub?!” I drop my bags and the flashlight in my mouth, rushing up the stairs to greet the old man. He wraps his arms around me as I take him around his shoulders, the both of us pounding our open palms against each other’s backs. “What are you doing here? We were going to surprise you!” I say as we finally break apart. 
“Surprise? You boys ain’t as slick as you think you are…” he chuckles a raspy laugh as he replaces his cap on his head. “Practically raised ya, and ya can’t even tell an old man you’re comin’ home?”
“Ah, Bub, we were going to, but–”
“Hey you just gonna leave me hangin’ over here?!” I hear Jake’s familiar gravelly timbre fill the air as he plummets into me, almost knocking me back as his arms embrace me. The embrace of a brother. “Heyyy, brother…” I laugh, not sure of the last time Jake and I actually hugged. It’s funny, we spent so much time together for so many years, I was positive that when I left him and went my own way, I wouldn’t think twice about it. And I didn’t really, until I’d find myself needing to ask him a question only he would know the answer to, or I’d hear an old Neil Young song in a bar. It was at those times that I realized he’s the other half of me, and he always will be. We do alright being apart, but the world feels more at ease when we’re together.
We pull apart, and I catch sight of Y/N leaned in the doorway, her arms crossed across her chest as she eyes us with a sweet, familiar smile. “Well looky here, the two outlaws, themselves,” she grins, and I immediately pull her into the same embrace that I’d pulled Bubba into. She feels a little different now, not sure why, or how, just different. Her hair is longer and she’s got a suntan from the Tennessee rays. My mind hardly ever reminisces on the time we shared together, and I’m thankful for the fact that we have been able to stay good friends after our whirlwind romance. She’s as much a part of me as Jake is, now. Just in a different way. 
I feel her fingernails scratching at my back as we hug, and her voice is muffled as she tries to speak with her mouth pressed against my chest. “You two really couldn’t even manage to stay out of trouble for six months, could you?” she playfully complains. “The hell am I gonna do with ya…”
“Not even funny, Y/N,” I say, pushing at her shoulder as Jake and Bubba make their way inside the cabin with my bags in hand. We follow them in, and Bubba pulls the door closed behind me. He pulls a deadbolt, and a slide-lock, and a chain lock across the brand new door, and kicks a wooden wedge up underneath it. 
“Damn, what is this, Alcatraz?” I ask, too surprised to take a look around the place. 
“Might as well be,” Bubba says, rushing over to the windows to pull the heavy blue curtains in front of them. 
“What the hell is going on?” I ask, finally taking notice of the state of the cabin. The interior has been completely re-done, though not all brand new, it looks better than it used to. The floor is no longer caved in, and the roof has been repaired. There’s a table and chairs, and a large couch in the living area, along with two recliners. There are dishes on the shelves, and a wood stove has been installed in the corner of the kitchen. “What happened to this place?”
“Come, sit, Daniel,” Bubba beckons me, and I make my way over to the chair he has pulled out for me. Jake and Y/N follow suit, and he takes his seat last. The air in the room is heavy, and I realize that the only light is coming from three oil-burning lanterns placed around the old tables and countertops of the house. The warm flickering glow accentuates Bubba’s wrinkles, reminding me yet again that he isn’t getting any younger and that the world has continued turning. 
“I was just tellin’ these two, Danny, I took the liberty of movin’ up here ‘bout, oh, five, six weeks ago. Been trying my best to fix the place up, make it feel like home. I know you two wouldn’t care, and I know your Pops wouldn’t have cared eith–”
“Wait wait wait,” I cut him off. “Moved? What do you mean you moved?”
“I mean, I moved. All my things are here, in the back bedroom,” he responds matter-of-factly.
“What about your trailer? Your place?” I ask, my hands flattening across the dusty wooden tabletop.
Bubba licks his wrinkled lips, bringing his hand up to rub across his shaven chin. “Sold it, son. Property and all. I just… wanted away from it. Wasn’t doin’ me no good.”
“But you said right before we left that you were happy, when we asked you to come with us, you said you were fine–”
“Hell, ‘course I did, Daniel. You wouldn’ta left and gone out on your own if I’d’a told you my plans.” He pauses, clasping his hands together. “Plus, Geraldine and I separated, knew this would be a better place for me, anyway. Give me somethin’ to keep my hands busy.”
All three sets of our eyes grow ten times in size. “Bub, what?” Jake nearly yells. “You separated? Why?”
Bubba waves us off, almost like it is no big deal. “Aw, shit, boys. You know damn good and well why. After y'all left, shit fell apart even worse than it was already fallin’. After Teddy died, and his posse didn’t have a head honcho no more, they started goin’ out on their own, causin’ more trouble than they had before. Stealin’, botherin’ folk… Teddy was a piece of shit but he kept those vagrants in line, I will say.” He rubs his hand over his chin again as he adjusts his legs under the table. “Anyway, I… I didn’t feel safe… havin’ these ties with you boys, and, and the shop burnin’ down and the history we already had with Teddy. I just didn’t want Geraldine caught up in it, ya know? Didn’t want her worryin’, or worse yet bein’ a new target for them boys. She don’t deserve that. Don’t deserve it at all. Thought it best I just leave her to herself.”
“Bubba, that’s ridiculous!” Jake says, and we nod in agreement. “I–I mean, I know where you’re comin’ from, but. You two are in love, made for each other.”
“Yeah,” Y/N adds, “wouldn’t you feel safer being with her? I mean, keeping a closer eye out for her is easier when you live in town, right?” 
Now I know why Geraldine looked so down. She had just gotten dumped. 
I pull the half-pint of whiskey I had shoved in my pocket, cracking the lid and tilting it back for a few refreshing seconds. I pass it off to Jake, and he happily rips it from my hand and does the same.
Bubba grits his jaw and shakes his head and hands at us. “It was for the best, just trust me. But that’s enough about me. We need to figure out what in the hell to do about this new problem of yours.”
“What happened in town?” I ask. “After we left? Did they come after you?”
“I said enough about me, Daniel. You hard of hearin’?”
“He asked you an honest question, Bubba,” Jake says calmly. “Did they touch you again?”
Y/N’s eyes are trained downward as she doesn’t dare bring them away from staring at the table. She knows good and well that if Bubba says yes, that the two of us are going to come unglued. 
“They didn’t touch me. Tried to, few times but.” Bubba shakes his head furiously from side to side. “They don’t know I’m out here. Geraldine still brings me supplies. I try my best and make myself scarce.”
“What do you mean they tried to?” Jake demands.
“Can’t ya leave it alone, Jacob?”
“Tell me, Bubba!” he raises his voice. “What did they do?” I can see the flame of the candle light flickering in Jake’s eyes, and unfortunately, I know that look all too well. It’s the same one that’s probably in my eyes, right now. 
It’s pindrop silent in the room as we anxiously await an answer from Bubba. He’s breathing hard from his flared nostrils, and wringing his wrinkled hands together. He pulls his red handkerchief from his back pocket and pats it along his brow, and I know that if he doesn’t say something soon, I’m gonna jump out of my skin. Hard to tell what Jake would do.
Finally, Bubba looks up from his hands, swallowing hard as his voice is barely audible. “If I tell you boys, you promise not to leave this cabin?”
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brunettemarionette · 2 days ago
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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮
☾‧₊˚ ⋅ ― female reader. no description of features. no mentions of size, race or age.
🇲​​🇦​​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​ 💜​🇸​​🇴​​🇦​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​
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𝗝𝗮𝘅 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅
Jax spots the guy leaning in too close to you, spouting off some pathetic attempt at a pickup line while tossing in a jab about “wannabe biker boys.” His lips twitch into a deadly smirk as he struts over, confidence oozing with every step.
“Hey, babe,” he says smoothly, wrapping an arm around your waist, his icy blue eyes locking on the clueless idiot. “This clown bothering you?”
When the guy stammers, Jax leans in, his voice dropping low. “Y’know, I’d think twice before badmouthing my club. Especially when I’m the President. But since you didn’t know…” He gives a sharp, humourless laugh. “You’ve got about three seconds to walk away before this gets messy.”
The guy practically trips over himself as he scurries off, and Jax turns back to you, flashing that charming grin. “You alright, darlin’? Let’s get outta here.”
𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:
Aggressively Supportive & Protective
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𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗯𝘀 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅
Chibs doesn’t even bother hiding the cold steel in his gaze as he hears the man flirt with you, his Scottish accent turning sharp as glass when he interrupts.
“Yer sure talkin’ a big game for someone who doesn’t know whose girl he’s chattin’ up,” Chibs drawls, stepping between you and the idiot.
The guy scoffs, mentioning something about “bikers and daddy issues,” and that’s all it takes for Chibs’ deadly smirk to surface. “Aye, that’s cute. Now, I’ve got a wee bit of advice for ye: you leave now, or I’ll give ya somethin’ to cry about.”
The guy falters at the glint in Chibs’ eyes, backing off immediately. Once he’s gone, Chibs tilts his head toward you, his voice softening. “You good, love? Let’s grab a drink.”
𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:
Snarky Power Couple That Can, And Probably Will, Destroy You
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𝗧𝗶𝗴  ☾‧₊˚ ⋅
Tig hears the guy’s comment about how “guys in leather are overcompensating” and loses it. He storms over, practically buzzing with energy, his wild eyes daring the guy to say another word.
“Excuse me? You got somethin’ to say about me, buddy?” Tig growls, his tone loud enough to make everyone turn and stare.
The guy freezes, trying to laugh it off, but Tig’s already in his face, pointing at you. “You see her? She’s with me. Me. So if you’re gonna keep running your mouth, you’d better hope you’re faster than I am. Spoiler alert: you’re not.”
The guy stammers out an apology and bolts, leaving Tig to turn back to you with a grin. “See that? Chased him off. No one messes with my girl.”
𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:
Thinks They're In Charge (Tig) x Is Actually In Charge (You)
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𝗢𝗽𝗶𝗲 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅
Opie hears the guy call SAMCRO a “bunch of thugs” while shamelessly flirting with you. He clenches his fists, his jaw ticking as he approaches. He towers over the guy, his deep voice calm but dangerous.
“Got a problem with my club?” Opie asks, his sheer size and quiet intensity enough to make the guy gulp.
When the man stutters, Opie steps closer, his eyes like granite. “And you think hitting on my girl is a good idea? You’re either real stupid or looking for trouble.”
The guy quickly backpedals, muttering apologies as he slinks away. Opie watches him go, then turns to you with a small smile. “You alright? Let’s head out before I change my mind about letting him walk away.”
𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:
Home Is Wherever You Are
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𝗛𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅
Happy doesn’t need to say much. The second he hears the guy say something about “bikers being all talk,” he strides over silently, his expression as unreadable as ever.
He steps between you and the guy, looking him up and down with cold, assessing eyes. “You like your teeth where they are?” Happy asks, his voice low and gravelly.
The guy blinks, confused, but the pure menace radiating off Happy is enough to make him reconsider whatever dumb thing he was about to say. “N-no problem, man. I was just leaving.”
Happy watches him go, then turns to you with a rare smirk. “You good? Let’s go.”
𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:
Unaware in public (you) x Overprotective in public (Happy)
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𝗝𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗲 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅
Juice hears the guy call SAMCRO a “bunch of wannabes” while trying to charm you, and he immediately stiffens. He’s not the most intimidating at first glance, but the second he speaks, his tone is sharp.
“You might wanna rethink what you’re saying,” Juice says, stepping up beside you, his eyes narrowing. “That ‘wannabe’ club? That’s my family.”
The guy laughs nervously, trying to brush it off, but Juice isn’t backing down. “And her?” He points at you. “She’s my girl. So why don’t you take your crappy lines somewhere else before I make you regret opening your mouth?”
The guy stumbles over an apology before fleeing, and Juice exhales, turning back to you. “You okay? Let’s get out of here before I really lose it.”
𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:
You Fell First, But He Fell Harder
𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝗴
Bad Company by Five Finger Death Punch
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kbstanny · 2 days ago
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Thanks For Nothing (Rafayel/Reader)
✿Fandom: Love and Deepspace
✿Pairing: M/F
✿Rating: NSFW
✿Tags: smut, jealousy, orgasm denial, possessive behaviour, taunting, rough sex
✿Word count: 2,360
Rafayel's bodyguard has been neglecting her duties, so he decides to teach her a lesson.
✿A/N at the end!
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"I should fire you!"
Rafayel was furious. More furious than she'd ever seen him, stomping across the kitchen as she prepared his dinner. His latest exhibition for his newest collection had been going ever so well, but an altercation had brought a sour end to the night. An altercation that never would have happened if his bodyguard had been paying better attention.
So he'd brought her back to his home, demanding that she make recompense for her carelessness by cooking him dinner. And, feeling guilty, she obliged.
"I pay you well, really well! I take you out to lunch, to museums, I give you more than you deserve and you just throw it back in my face!" He was ranting, his hands on his hips as he huffed and puffed, his cheeks all red. She couldn't help but find the sight a little amusing.
"Rafayel, relax. You're fine, aren't you?" She couldn't take him all too seriously, as Rafayel, like usual, was overreacting. He did not like her answer, or her tone.
"Anything could have happened! I could have been killed! And nothing would have happened had you been doing your job!"
"Nothing did happen! You have a little bruise on your back, that's all!" She retorted. She hadn't realised at first just how upset he was about the whole thing.
He walked right up to her, a scowl on his face.
"It's not little!" He tugged up his shirt to show her the purple mark, no bigger than an egg.
"You've shown me a hundred times already."
"I'll show you a hundred more! Until you start taking being my bodyguard seriously!" He pouted in that childish way that sometimes made her squirm, or smile, depending on her mood.
"I am sorry, Rafayel." She spoke with a sigh, placing a lid on the pot of simmering stew. "But this is gonna taste so good you'll forget all about it." She smiled at him, but he didn't return it, his eyes narrowing, going silent for a few moments.
"You were trying to get under my skin back there, with that guy." He accused, his voice losing its childish whine, taking on a tone more sinister. "I know you were. You were all over him."
Rafayel didn't back away, looking down his nose at her, nostrils slightly flared. "Sat there, sipping wine at the bar like butter wouldn't melt. Throwing yourself at any handsome idiot who gave you attention."
She scoffed at him, folding her arms, looking straight back up at him with a challenging gaze. "And so what if I was?" She challenged. "You're not my boyfriend, I can do as I please." Her eyes lit up with a playful flare. "Are you jealous?"
He took a small step forward, and when she tried to step away, she realised she was caged in, pressed tight against the counter. Yet she wouldn't drop her guard, staring back at Rafayel unphased. Anger twitched across his face.
"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" His hand trailed up the split in her dress, his long fingers dusting delicately against the plush skin of her thigh. She looked radiant in her dark sequin gown, not at all professional, completely unequipped to protect her client, save for one secret weapon. Though it didn't stay a secret for long.
Rafayel plunged his hand up her dress, yanking her gun from its holster in one swift motion.
"I'm afraid stew isn't going to make up for what you did." There was a mischievous glint in his eye, one that actually frightened her. She gasped, reaching out for the gun, but he held it high.
"That's not funny, put that down!" She commanded, but Rafayel only laughed.
"What's the matter, Miss Bodyguard? You don't like feeling unprotected?" He teased, cocking a brow. She groaned, wrestling fruitlessly against him, but he only held her gun higher.
"Rafayel! Stop being stupid!"
"What's stupid is flirting with some random guy at work while your boss is watching." He chided. "Were you gonna go home with him?"
"What? No!"
"I bet you would've. He was getting real touchy with you." Rafayel teased, leaning in closer, smoothing his hand up the opening of her dress, cupping her hip.
He looked her in the eye. He was smiling, dangerously at first, before his devilish expression twisted into that familiar, boyish grin. He placed the gun atop a tall cabinet — out of the way. She released a breath, unaware she'd had one trapped in her throat in the first place.
With his newly freed hand, he grabbed her other hip, lifting her up so that she was sat on the counter before him.
"You fucking asshole." She spat, shoving him away, though he barely budged, laughing, his hands still holding her hips.
"You can't seriously think I was going to shoot you? I'm an artist, not an assassin."
His eyes had softened some, though much of the bitterness he'd harboured in them before had evolved into lust, and he drank in her figure with a lascivious gaze. She noticed a tent growing in his pants.
"I never know what stupid thing you're going to do next."
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." Rafayel closed the gap between them, catching her lips in a quick but passionate kiss, pulling her forward to press her core flush against his bulge. She huffed, and her arousal swelled.
Goddamnit. How did he have this sort of control over her? No matter how mad at him she was, just one flash of that smile, one wink of his impossible sunset eyes and she folded.
His hands smoothed up from her hips, to her waist, then to her back, locating the zip to her dress and pulling it down slowly. Rafayel broke the kiss, sliding the garment down her shoulders to reveal her breasts.
His slender fingers cupped at her bosom, gently pinching her hardened nipples, slowly teasing her cunt with his clothed erection. She moaned, her lust dampening her underwear. Rafayel chuckled.
"Getting worked up already huh?" He teased, and she curled her leg around his thighs, pulling him closer. Rafayel pinched her nipples tightly, earning a little squeal from his bodyguard.
"You're lucky I still wanna fuck you. Seeing you with that guy really put me off." He stopped pinching to unbutton his pants. She scowled.
"Get over it would you?" She jabbed, swiftly sliding down her panties.
He tutted, pooling up her dress at her waist and spreading her legs, baring her glistening cunt. Rafayel parted her folds with his thumb, gently circling her clit with the digit.
"You have such an attitude. You really should be more grateful, considering you're such a bad bodyguard."
She whined, heat flushing over her body as Rafayel touched her. She looked back at him, defiant, she couldn't take his smug expression despite how turned on she was.
"A... a waiter tripped into you– and you fell over!" She huffed the words out through her mewls. "It's hardly like– you were attacked!"
At that, he slid a finger inside of her, expelling the words from her mouth in one simple motion. She gasped from the pleasure, her mouth gaping like a fish, and he grinned at the sight of her. He gave her little time to adjust before sliding in a second finger, pumping in and out of her mound at a fervent pace.
"What was that? You got something to say?" He taunted, but she could only whimper, her defenses melting against him with ease. "Yeah. That's what I thought."
She'd been over this routine with Rafayel a hundred times already: They'd fall out over something ridiculous, more often than not it was his fault, but it didn't take them long at all before they were all over each other again, extinguishing their squabbles over sex. It usually worked a treat, and she certainly wasn't complaining. Any complaints she might have had poofed into dust with one click or pump of his fingers. She was completely wrapped around them, at his mercy.
"You're so wet for me, cutie." He chimed, picking up the pace. Rafayel's voice was smooth and composed, yet the look in his eye was anything but. There was a fire in his gaze that burned so bright it put his Evol to shame.
She moaned, her eyes shutting as she desperately tensed around him, trying to draw as much friction as she could with her lubricious walls. It was akin to trying to grasp a slippery bar of soap in one's hands. Rafayel drew his fingers out of her with a resounding pucker.
He quickly whipped his erection out from his underwear, readying it at her dripping cunt. He was very thick, especially at the head, with more than enough length to satisfy her aching lust. Rafayel brought his tip to her lips, coating it in her wetness and sliding himself teasingly against her folds. Impatient, she tried to slide herself around him, but he stopped her with a firm clamp to her thigh.
"Nuh-uh. If you want it, you'll have to say please ."
She looked up at him, scowling despite her desperation, and he sent a shit-eating grin back at her. Rafayel was loving every minute of this. He knew she wasn't capable of refusing him.
For a few moments, she was silent, but as a particularly persuasive jolt of pleasure shot down her spine, she soon changed her mind.
"Please." She whined, her tone earnest but scathing. It was good enough for Rafayel. With a shaky breath, he entered her.
By now, she was used to the glorious way he felt inside of her. She loved the initial pinch of his fat head against her walls, no matter how aroused she was, he always required a little bit of adjustment. Just one stroke and she was filled instantly, so satisfied she could have orgasmed merely from the warming sensation of him inside of her. Once Rafayel's cock was completely engulfed, he began to fuck her, and far from delicately.
One of his hands snaked its way to her backside, spreading its grip over her rump and hip, guiding her movements. His other hand roamed to her chest, bouncing and massaging her breasts. She moaned, loud, wrapping her legs around his hips to keep him close.
Rafayel dipped his head, catching her mouth in a quick kiss, one with a heat that lingered on her lips, before he trailed those kisses down her neck, to her collarbone, nipping at it restlessly. She had to muffle the sounds with her palm, her eyelids squeezed tightly shut as she tried to compose herself. But Rafayel quickly snatched her wrist, pinning her arm to the wall behind them.
He sank his teeth into the tautest section of her neck, biting harshly, before soothing the bruise with his tongue. The sounds of his grunts and groans reverberated against her, making her sensitive skin ripple like the sea beneath a skipping stone. She clung desperately to his back, her only outlet for the intense pressure in her body.
He pulled away, looking back at her, though he didn't cease, pounding feverishly into her pussy. Rafayel looked a little disheveled, with his hair touseled and clothes sticky from the heat, but compared to her he was the picture of perfection. She looked a mess, with angry bruises peppering her skin, which was hot and sticky from sweat.
"You like that, don't you?" He purred, knowing full well what her answer would be. "Aren't you a lucky girl?" He pinched her nipple, tightly. "Aren't you lucky that I'm fucking you after what you did?"
"So lucky." She slurred, her fighting spirit had melted entirely at the command of his hips, moaning uselessly as he slammed into her. Rafayel looked intense, as if he was about to burst any minute. He took a firm hold of her jaw.
"Good girl." His voice was deceptively soft, the condescending tone all but undetectable when his arousal was so potent.
Then somehow, Rafayel managed to thrust even faster, his hips jackhammering into her at a dizzying pace, making tears sting her eyes and her thighs quiver uncontrollably. A big, hard knot formed in her stomach, sending a wave of heat that wracked her form.
"Ra- Raf- I'm!" She rasped, but he came first, shooting streams of hot and sticky spend deep inside of her swollen core. He heaved heavy breaths, pulling out of her with a wet thunk. She still hadn't finished. She'd been so close, and still she was so expectant, clenching her walls and whining at the loss of pressure as his seed oozed out of her.
But still he huffed and puffed, a dazed grin on his face, looking back smugly at the desperate mess he'd created on the counter. She wanted— needed him back, badly.
"I'm so close Raf, can you just...?" She gestured, a little frustrated. But Rafayel made no effort to assist her, wiping his cock down and tucking it back into his pants.
"And where were you tonight? When I needed you?" Her heart sank at his words.
"You can't be fucking serious–"
"Oh, I'm completely serious."
And one look his way confirmed that. She was so mad she thought she might cry.
"It hurts, doesn't it? When someone isn't there for you when you need them most? When you're waiting, desperately, for them to come back and finish what they started, to do their job, but they never do?"
He was taunting her now, but she said nothing, staring daggers at him. The thick bubbling of the stew filling the tense and silent kitchen. He sauntered over to the pot, taking a spoon and sipping the meaty broth. He hummed.
"Mm. Y'know, you're right — this might actually be good enough to make me forget all about it." He grinned, grabbing a bowl and dishing himself up. She stared back at him, rage bubbling behind her eyes, but her body was frozen in place.
Rafayel looked unphased, taking his bowl and walking away. "You can go now." And with that, he switched off the kitchen light and retired to his room for the night.
A/N: Sorry I made him so mean 😭 hope you enjoyed anyway! I think I'll write a sweet pt.2 to make up for it
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canirove · 3 days ago
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Canary boy | Chapter 3
Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Tuesday)
Masterlist
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“Inés, did you just giggle?”
“No.”
“Inés, I know you, and you just giggled. Who is the lucky one who has managed that?” Carla says. “Maybe the tall guy we met the other night?”
“The one who thought I was a lesbian because I played football?” I snort. 
“What?”
“Men” I shrug.
“That's… nevermind. If it isn't him, then who is it?” she asks again, raising her eyebrows up and down like that Milhouse gif.
“No one.”
“I don't believe you” she says, snatching my phone from my hands before I can hide it in my bag. 
“Carla!” 
“You seriously need to put a password, Inés. What if someone steals your phone and sees all your sexy photos?” she smirks.
“I don't have sexy photos” I reply, rolling my eyes.
“Why? You are sexy and… Why is Pedri sending you a photo of him eating churros?”
“It's an inside joke” I say, taking advantage of her shock to get my phone back. Maybe I do need a password on it, but to avoid having her lurking.
“An inside joke? Since when do you have inside jokes with him? And that was WhatsApp, Inés. Not Instagram. I thought you only followed each other there.”
“Not anymore” I say. 
It had happened the day after our churros date or whatever you want to call it. We had spent the night chatting on Instagram, Pedri asking me about how meeting my grandparents had gone, and telling me that his hungover had come back with violence once he had made it home. And the morning after, he had asked me for my number because he liked chatting on WhatsApp better, the “oh my God” I screamed when I saw that message being heard by the whole building. Like I already said, I'm stupid and I like getting my hopes up too fast and too much.
Though it's been a week, and we've been texting daily and very often. Very often. 
“Inés…” Carla sighs. “He has a girlfriend.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Because this totally looks like flirting.”
“What?” I laugh.
“Having inside jokes about churros of all things? Texting on WhatsApp? The fact that he has made you giggle?” 
“Carla, we are just friends.”
“No, you aren't. You fancy him, Inés!”
“Who do you fancy?” Aitana says, sitting next to me.
“No one” I quickly say, focusing on tying up my boots to hide the colour of my face.
“Who does she fancy?” she asks Carla.
“Someone she shouldn't.”
“Víctor?”
“What?” Carla and I say at the same time.
Víctor is one of the men's team stars, another young player from the academy like myself who made it to the first team at the same time I did. And since we both also play in the same position, everyone has always joked that we are destined to end up together, himself included. But the thing is, that I can't stand him. I've never have.
As a kid his ego already was too big for someone so young, and now it is even worse. The fact that once the awkward teenage years passed he turned out to be quite hot, girls all over the world being so obsessed with him that it sometimes is scary, hasn't helped. 
“I don't know. Since he is someone she shouldn't fancy and you've always said that you can't stand him…” Aitana shrugs. “We are filming some stuff with the boys after training, by the way. He'll probably be there.”
“Urgh, don't remind me of it” I say. “They'll probably put us together again.”
“They have to give the shippers their monthly content, Inés” Aitana teases me.
“Idiot” I reply, giving her a little push. 
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry” she laughs. “But you know it's true.”
“Whatever. Let's go training and stop talking about men” I say, standing up.
“Yeah, let's go avoid thinking about the mess we may be getting ourselves into” Carla says behind me before following us. 
━━━━━━❃━━━━━━
“And Inés, you will be filming a guess who with Víctor.”
“Great” I sigh.
“Did you say anything, Inés?”
“I was just wondering where he is” I quickly say. 
“Were you missing me, my love?” someone says behind me.
“Jesus Christ!” 
“Almost as famous” Víctor laughs. “Looking beautiful today” he smirks, putting his arm around my shoulders.
“Thank you” I reply, moving to be in front of him so he stops touching me. “Where were you? You are late.”
“Is that jealousy, Inés? Are you worried I may be seeing someone else?”
“What?” I laugh.
“You look really cute when you are jealous” he smirks, closing the space between us so he can caress my cheek. But I'm faster, and take a step back just in time to make him miss. 
“I'm not jealous, Víctor.”
“Of course not, my love.”
“I'm not your love either.”
“Yet” he winks. “Anyway, should we start filming this thing? If we finish early we can go grab something to eat… or whatever you fancy.”
“What I fancy, is to go home. Alone” I add when he is about to say another of his stupid flirty sentences.
“Always so harsh, my love.”
“I'm not your… urgh” I groan. Lord, grant me patience, because if he says another my love, I'm gonna end up committing murder.
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“And now who is calling… me” I say after finally making it home and checking my phone. 
This can't be real. It has to be a mistake. He's trying to call someone else and dialed my number because we had been texting earlier. Or maybe not. Maybe he actually is calling me. Maybe something happened. Maybe he needs my help. Maybe he is in danger! If he is, I should probably answer and stop with my internal dialogue, shouldn't I? Ok, you can do this, Inés.
“Pedri, why are you video calling me? Is everything ok?”
“Hello to you too” he chuckles.
“Hi, sorry. But is everything ok?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why are you calling me?”
“Because my head is about to explode after being in front of my laptop working on an assignment for the past few hours, and I needed a distraction.”
“And I am a distraction?” I laugh.
“You have no idea” Pedri smirks. He… umm… what? “Anyway, are you free? Do you want to go out for a walk? I seriously need to leave my room and have some fresh air.”
“I just made it home, but… Yeah, why not?”
“Great!” he says with a smile that makes me feel all fuzzy inside. “I'll call an Uber and pick you up. See you in a bit, Inés.”
“Bye” I smile back before he hangs up. 
Did I just agree to go out with Pedri? As in some kind of… date? But it is a friends date, of course. Because that's what we are. Just friends. Though one of the friends is completely infatuated with the other, and for the past week may have been dreaming about very steamy cooking dates and other things that involve his churro. But my period just left and the days after I'm horny, ok? Ok.
━━━━━━❃━━━━━━
“I can't believe that as someone born and raised in Barcelona, I had no idea this place existed.”
“That's because you are a mountain girl, Inés. The sea doesn't call you the same way it calls me, an island boy” Pedri says.
“What?” I laugh, taking the hand he is offering me to help me jump from the rocks we just walked down to make it to the beach. I could very well do it myself, but letting him be a gentleman and help me won't hurt anybody, will it? Unless you ask Carla, of course.
She would probably say that us touching like this would cause a tsunami that would destroy the city. Though maybe the sea starting to boil due to the heat that is going through my body and coming from it right now, would be more likely to happen. Dear Lord, Inés. He's just holding your hand! Stop being so lame and… horny!
“You don't like the sea” Pedri says.
“I do.”
“But not as much as you like the mountain” he says while we walk, still holding hands. “When you have some free time, you always go hiking or for a walk around the woods, you don't come to the beach to have a swim like I do.”
“How do you know that?”
“I've seen it on your Instagram” he smiles. Wait a second… Pedri has been paying attention to what I post? What? And more importantly… why? “You are a mountain girl, and that's ok. Next time you have to take me to one of your favourite spots.”
“Next time?”
“Today I think this is the perfect one for us” he says, putting down the backpack he was carrying and completely ignoring my question, which only means one thing: I will be thinking about it and what he meant with next time for the rest of my life. “Fancy a beer?”
“What?” I say, my brain working again and making me sit down on the sand next to him.
“You can drink beer, can't you? Or is that something you are not allowed to anymore?”
“Oh, no, we can. They just suggest us to not drink too much.”
“I'm not planning on getting you drunk, don't worry” Pedri winks before opening one bottle and passing it to me. How did I manage to take it from his hand and not let it fall after that wink and our fingers touching again? Nobody knows. “So, what should we toast to?” he asks after opening one for himself. “This place?”
“Nah, that's too boring. What about… to getting distracted?”
“I like that. To getting distracted” he says, raising his bottle.
“To getting distracted” I reply, doing the same with mine before drinking. “Urgh, I had forgotten how good this beer is.”
“It is your favourite, isn't it?”
“It is, yes. How do you know? My Instagram again?” I ask with a teasing smile. Wow, Inés. Bold move there.
“No, not this time” he laughs, the sound making me feel funny things on my stomach. “I know it is your favourite because you mentioned it the last time we all went out together after class.”
“How can you remember that? I can't even remember what I had for lunch yesterday” I chuckle.
“I just do” he shrugs, taking a sip from his beer. 
After that, we both stay in silence, neither of us saying a word while we drink and watch the sun set behind the waves. But it isn't an awkward silence. It is one of the most comfortable and nice ones I've ever experienced. Nice, until the worst thing ever happens.
“Oh my God, Inés!” Pedri laughs while I cover my face with my hands and wish the sand would open and swallow me whole. “What was that noise? A dinosaur?”
“I'm so sorry you had to hear that” I say from behind my hands. “But I haven't eaten anything since before training and…”
“And you are starving. Big time” he laughs again.
“Yeah.”
“Should we go grab something to eat? After hearing that, I'm afraid you may try to eat me.”
“What?” I say, daring to look at him. Which is the biggest mistake ever, because he is: one, smirking, and two, way closer to my face than I had expected him to be.
“Are you going to eat me, Inés?” 
“What?” I repeat with a nervous laugh, my eyes moving from his to his lips. Have I said yet that they are the most kissable lips ever? Kissable, and edible too. 
“I fear you might” he says, closing the space between us a bit more.
“Pedri…” 
“Inés…” he whispers, his face now so close to mine that I've felt him saying my name on my skin. 
He is going to kiss me. He is, isn't he? Why else would he be so close to my face right now? There is no other explanation, is it? He is going to kiss me. He… 
“Inés!” he laughs again when my stomach makes another horrible noise, sending to hell my hopes for that kiss. “C'mon, let's get you some food before you actually eat me.”
“I was about to” I say, speaking before thinking.
“I know” he smirks, getting up from the sand. “But there is a really good restaurant close by, and their food tastes way better than I do.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Uh?”
“Nothing, nothing” I say, quickly standing up. I think I'm so hungry it has started to affect my brain. “Sorry about the dinosaur in my stomach.”
“You don't need to apologize, Inés. I actually am quite hungry too. Shall we?” Pedri says after putting our empty beer bottles back on his backpack. 
“Let's go” I reply, forcing myself to smile and to ignore the fact that we, as in Pedri and yours truly, almost kissed. I think.
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