#what a good friend/sounding board 😂

[umbrellacam]

Secret Origins (Vol. 2) #13 - April 1987 - The Secret Origins of Nightwing

Oh my god five-year-old baby Dickie is so small, the panic when he fell, I wanted to lunge into the page and grab him!!

I love him boldly flinging himself into an attempt at his dad's triple spin, though - and almost managing it, though he fell short on the catch! Little daredevil ❤️ And his absolute beaming grin after John caught him, ohhhh my heart, he's so - fearless, effusive, full of grace. Lookit his lil dimples, I can't.

But also - he feels so safe and secure with his Momma and Daddy ;A; They'll always catch him when he falls. They're his safety net, even when he's flying without one.

And then they're gone 💔

[krirebr]

Luck Be a Lady

Pairing: soft!dark Curtis Everett x female reader

Word Count: ~10.1k

Summary: Desperate for money, you accept a job as a cocktail waitress at an underground casino. You think you know what you're doing, but when you meet Curtis, will you realize you're in over your head?

Warnings: Mob AU, violence, allusions to murder, explicit language, dubcon touching, noncon touching (not Curtis), willfully oblivious reader, SMUT - facefucking, dirty talk, light d/s dynamics, praise kink, other explicit sexual content. This is definitely on the darker end of the soft!dark spectrum, so proceed with caution! All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

Masterlist

A/N: And here it finally is! This is my first real attempt at soft!dark. I hope I did it right! 😂

This was inspired by two things: 1) me going to a rep screening of Goodfellas and spending the entire time wondering why I hadn't done a mob au yet and 2) @bigtreefest saying "enforcer!Curtis Everett and mob boss!Andy Barber" in my general direction. Thanks for the inspo, friend!!

And big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who not only came up with Curtis's name for reader but also offered heaps of encouragement and was a great sounding board. And thanks to @stargazingfangirl18 for helping me figure out how exactly we'd get to the smut. Thanks Siri!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Please come scream at me about this! 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You fruitlessly tug down your very short skirt as Holly talks at you. You’re both standing in the corner of the bar’s basement waiting for the night to start in earnest—your first night.

“Lloyd’s not so bad,” she says of your boss, the man who runs this little underground gambling ring. “You’ll have to split your tips with him at the end of the night, but he doesn’t take that much, and you’ll make enough that you won’t really notice. As long as you do that, he’ll mostly keep his hands to himself.”

You nod along, glancing at the mustachioed man conferring with the bouncer at the door. The interview process for this job had boiled down to a thorough once-over that’d made you feel naked in your jeans and t-shirt and a “You’re not too stupid to take a drink order, are you?” and then you had the job.

Holly had vouched for you. Neighbors for almost half a year, she’d come home early one morning last week and witnessed you trying to convince the landlord that you were good for your past-due rent. She’d taken you for coffee and told you she might be able to help if you were good at keeping your head down and mouth shut. And now you were here.

“The customers, on the other hand,” she continues, smacking her gum, “you’ll have to let them touch, at least a little bit. Within reason, you know? But if anything gets out of hand, you can just tell Jake at the door and he’ll take care of it.”

“Within reason?” you ask, voice shaking, just the littlest bit, as the pit that started forming in your stomach when you agreed to this grows a little more.

The look she gives you verges on exasperated. “Well, you want to make money, don’t you?”

Yes, you do. Very much so. It’s a need, not a want. So you nod and try to listen as she keeps giving you the rundown. 

Before you’re ready, the first patrons start trickling in and then you’re off to the races. It’s not too bad. No one’s orders are too complicated, mostly just bottles of beer and glasses of straight whiskey. The bartender, Colin, is friendly enough, although you learn that he’s another person you’ll need to split your tips with. 

As for the touching, there are hands on your hips, pats to your ass. But you’re rewarded with folded-up bills held up between fingers or tucked into the strap of your top. Or, twice, slid behind the waistband of your skirt. Once you realize that the majority of these bills aren’t ones or fives, but twenties, you care about the touching that comes with them much less. Plus, you’re too busy to really think about it that hard. 

You can’t believe how busy it is for a random Tuesday night, multiple games of poker, craps, and who knows what else all going at once. But when you mention that to Holly, she just laughs and shakes her head. “This is nothing,” she says. “On the weekends there’ll be three more of us and another one of Jake. Things get wild.” 

You don’t have time to decide whether that makes you nervous or excited before someone is signaling for your attention again. You manage to suppress your grimace when he slides his arm around your waist to tell you what he needs from the bar. You’re rewarded for your troubles by a wad of twenties. You aren’t sure who these men are to tip so freely, but you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It’s an hour or two later that Lloyd calls you over to where he’s speaking to a large, impossibly broad man, dressed in a soft-looking henley under a leather jacket with dark jeans. There’s dark ink all over his hands that disappears up his sleeves and reappears on his neck in intricate lines. He’s got close-cropped hair and a full beard that’s neatly trimmed. His deep blue eyes drill into you right away and you do your best not to shiver.

“Got a new girl tonight, Everett. Still learning the ropes, but she’ll take good care of you, won’t you, Cupcake?” 

“Yes, of course,” you say, before Lloyd wanders off to check on one of the poker games.

The man, Everett, lets his eyes rove over you. “Cupcake, huh?” His voice is deep, gritty, but there's something there that's much gentler than you expected.

You give him what you hope is a coy smile. “Sure. If you want.” Lloyd was treating him like he's important. You hope important means deep pockets.

He hits you with a penetrative stare, so strong you almost have to take a step back. “No,” he finally says. “I don't think so. I'll find something more fitting.” Then he turns and starts to walk away, before calling over his shoulder. “I'm gonna get dealt in. Bring me a whiskey once I'm settled.”

You watch him go for just a moment, and then head to the bar, asking for a whiskey. 

“This for Everett?” the bartender, Colin, asks. When you nod, he grabs a fancy bottle off the top shelf. “This is all he drinks. And he doesn't pay for it, alright? Don't ever think about giving him a bill.” 

You look back at the man in question, seriously looking at the cards he’s just been dealt. Who is he???

You collect his whiskey and move back to him. As you set it down, he turns to you. “How about this?” he asks as he holds up a crisply folded hundred-dollar bill between two fingers. Your eyes widen at the money. All you’ve done is bring him one straight pour. “There’s another one of these in it for you if you make sure I never see the bottom of this glass tonight. Sound good?” And then he folds the bill one more time in his thick fingers, before sliding it under the low-cut neckline of your blouse. Your skin tingles where he brushes against it.

“Yeah, you got it,” you just breathe out, a little shocked you’re able to form words. He gives you a smug smile that you can only describe as shark-like before turning back to his cards, and you understand it as the dismissal that it is. 

You move around the room, collecting empties, getting refills, trying to goodnaturedly accept unsolicited touches. The whole time you feel eyes on you, but whenever you glance Everett’s way, he’s focused on his poker game.

Eventually, a down moment finds you catching your breath against the wall. The moment Holly sees you standing still, she’s quickly making her way to you. “You need to be more careful around Curtis,” she hisses, lowly.

You look at her, confused. “Curtis?” Jake’s at the door. Colin’s behind the bar. You don’t know a Curtis.

“Curtis Everett!” You glance at the man at the poker table. He’s running a poker chip across his knuckles mindlessly. Then he looks up and you briefly make eye contact before you quickly look away. Holly is staring at you and she looks worried. But the name still doesn’t mean anything to you, so you shake your head and shrug. She groans as quietly as she can. “He’s Barber’s top enforcer!”

This whole conversation feels so out of the blue that it takes you a minute to catch up. Barber. Andrew Barber. The most feared mob boss in the city. Probably the state. Maybe even more. Ruthless and exacting was how the papers described him. He’d been the subject of multiple stings and taskforces and whathaveyou but nothing ever stuck. “He works for Andrew Barber?” you ask, shocked and a little appalled.

Holly stares at you in a way that you can only describe as dumbfounded. It takes her a few moments to find her words, then, “Bitch, you work for Andrew Barber!”

Everything stops. “What?” you gasp.

“Oh my god,” Holly groans. “This was such a mistake. It’s an underground card game in his city! Who did you think was running things?”

“I– I don’t know,” you stutter, stupidly. The god’s honest truth is that you’d never really stopped to think about it. You’d been staring down an eviction, struggling to afford groceries. Unable to make ends meet no matter what you did. When Holly told you about this job, all you saw were dollar signs. You didn't think about anything further. Of course, you’d known these games were illegal, but it seemed so minor in the grand scheme of things. You hadn’t connected it to anything bigger because you just hadn’t wanted to.

But now– Now that you know the truth, what are you going to do? You know what you should do. You should walk out the door right now. You should find some other legitimate way to pay your bills. It’ll be safer. It’ll be better. It’ll be so much harder.

As you bite your lip, trying to process all of this information, Holly continues. “Listen,” she says, “still get him drinks, be friendly, whatever you need to do. But keep your distance however you can. Don't encourage him. He's just– He's really dangerous. They don't call him Barber’s attack dog for nothing, ok?”

“Yeah,” you say. You start to look back in Curtis’s direction but stop yourself. You think about the hundred you already have and the one promised to you at the end of the night. You think of how empty your pantry is. But then you see the genuine fear in Holly's eyes. You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I got it. Thanks.”

“He doesn't even come in here that often. I'm surprised to see him tonight, so I'm sure it’ll be fine,” she says, but you can tell she’s nervous.

You nod, absently, finally letting yourself glance over at him. His drink is getting close to the bottom. “Shit,” you mumble. “I gotta get him his refill.”

“Do you want me to do it?” Holly asks. 

You should let her do it. You absolutely should. But you just can’t give up on that tip. You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine. But thanks.”

You head back to the bar and grab Curtis’s top-shelf whiskey of choice from Colin, then make your way to his table. You set it down next to him, hoping to move away without him even noticing, he’s so engrossed in the game. But as you take a step back, his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. He holds it tightly until you meet his eyes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you can’t help the sharp intake of breath or the way you feel his words in your knees. He strokes his thumb down the inside of your wrist, then abruptly lets go, pushing his chips to the middle of the table. You step away, gathering yourself as subtly as you can, and get back to work.

The rest of the night goes quickly. The crowd gets a little rowdier as they drink more, but you find that it’s nothing you can’t handle. The reality of who these people are, what they’re connected to, never leaves your mind. But really, they’re not so bad. None of this feels so bad at all. And soon, people start heading out. You’re beginning to clean up, when a recognizable voice rings out, “Bambi!” You turn and lock eyes with Curtis. He crooks two fingers at you and you quickly make your way over to him.

“Bambi?” you ask.

He grins at you and it feels more than a little predatory. You’ll never admit how much you like it. You try to keep Holly’s warning at the forefront of your mind. “Wide eyes and just getting your legs under you,” he says. You instinctively duck your head at that, which earns a dark chuckle. “Here,” he continues, as he pulls a genuine, fat money clip out of his back pocket. You’ve never seen something like it in real life before. He peels off two bills and holds them out to you. “This is what good girls get,” he says, a low rumble in his voice.

You swallow as you take them from him. Two hundred dollars. Twice what you were expecting. “Thank you,” you say quietly. 

He shakes his head. “You earned it.” Then, after one last long look at you, he turns around and leaves.

You stand and stare after him. You don’t doubt anything Holly said, but three hundred dollars, just for bringing him drinks. He doesn’t seem that bad, not really. A little intense maybe, but there’s some sort of interest there, and it can’t be that bad to encourage it, just a little if it earns you these sorts of tips, can it??

Any hesitance you have about this entire endeavor completely disappears as you count your money at the end of the night.

Your first week flies by. You're starting to get the hang of the job. You get along with your coworkers. You get to know the regulars. You like it. Even Lloyd isn’t so bad as long as you give him his cut at the end of every night.

And you’re making so much money.

In your downtime, you pay your landlord what you owe him. You go grocery shopping without scouring for coupons first or calculating exactly what you can afford beforehand. You make a Pinterest board of what you want your apartment to look like now that you might actually be able to buy things to fill it. For the very first time, you’re thinking about things you actually want, not just desperately trying to figure out how you’ll pay your bills. You’ve never felt this calm, this relaxed, this free before. It’s an incredible feeling.

And Curtis. Despite Holly’s reassurances that you wouldn’t see him much, he seems to be there whenever you are, trying to capitalize on his winning streak at the poker tables, you assume. His tips are still insanely generous. You don’t think he carries anything less than hundred dollar bills. 

And there’s just something about him. The way he looks at you. The way he touches you. It’s not like the other men here. His touch is like fire, warming from the inside. There’ve been times when his hand on your hip has almost made your knees buckle. That doesn’t happen with anyone else here.

But you’re being smart and you’re being safe. You are. You’re going to set a savings goal, you think. And once you hit that number, you’ll be out of here, onto something more legitimate. And until then, you’ll just keep your head down and mouth shut, like Holly said. You haven’t even really seen anything. It’s a good plan. It’ll be fine.

She’s right that the weekends are wilder. Even with three additional girls working the room, you’re kept running. You do your best to keep an eye on Curtis’s drinks, but it’s much harder than on weeknights. And you aren’t really able to pause when you drop them off. It’s one of these times, as you’re pulling away from the table as soon as you’ve set his glass down, that you’re stopped short by his hand on you. He pulls you back in by the wrist and says, “They’re just running you ragged tonight, huh, Bambi?”

You smile and shrug. “It’s busy.”

He holds out a bill and you try not to smile even wider as he slips it into the waistband of your skirt. “For all your hard work.”

You bat your lashes a little. “You spoil me.”

“I like spoiling you,” he says, lowly. 

“You’re too sweet,” you say softly. Then, pulling your arm away with a wink, you add, “Gotta run,” and you’re onto the next table.

You’re getting good at this, figuring out what level of harmless flirting is just enough to keep the money flowing. And you’re having fun. You’d never expected that.

Holly and two of the other girls, Jane and Kristi, are congregated at the end of the bar, waiting for drinks, when you join them. They’re all watching you warily. “So, uh,” Jane starts quietly, “you seem to be getting pretty cozy with Curtis.” 

Before you can respond, Holly scoffs behind her. “I’ve tried to warn her but she won’t fucking listen.”

You roll your eyes. You’re tired of hearing this. “I seriously don’t get what the big deal is. He’s nice and he tips well. It’s harmless!”

Kristi just gapes at you. “He’s nice?!”

Holly slams the drinks she was waiting for onto her tray. “Whatever,” she grumbles. “It’s her fucking funeral.”

You shake your head as you watch her go. It’s fine. You can take care of yourself.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. You don’t get much of a chance to talk to Curtis, but you feel his eyes on you before he disappears a little before closing.

At the end of the night, once you’ve helped clean up, you cash out with Colin and Jake and then go to find Lloyd in his office. You think it’s kind of ridiculous that you’re basically paying him to work there, but it is what it is. And Holly was right, you’re making so much that you barely even notice. 

Lloyd is sitting at his desk, looking a little more disheveled than you’re used to. He startles at your approach, which is also new. 

“Oh, hey,” he says, with slightly rounded eyes. “What can I do for you?”

You look at him, a little confused. “Just here with your cut,” you say as you hold out his money.

His hands immediately fly up to his chest, palms out. “No, no,” he says. “You made that fair and square. You just– you keep what you make from now on, Cupcake. Sound good?”

You swallow and nod, preparing yourself for whatever other price you’ll have to pay for keeping your job, mentally calculating what you’re willing to do. But Lloyd doesn’t do anything, doesn’t make any move to get closer to you. Just stays there at his desk, turning back to his work. “You have a good night,” he says, clearly dismissing you. 

You leave confused, but richer, telling yourself not to question it too hard.

Things go so smoothly for a few weeks that you’re a little shocked when the bubble bursts. 

It’s a relatively quiet weeknight. There are a few games going, but nothing compared to the weekend. The pace of the night feels leisurely. It’s nice.

It’s maybe the first night you haven’t seen Curtis there. It feels weird. He’s become such a part of this place for you. A fixture, like the bar or the carpet. Just one of the elements that make it what it is. But it’s fine. Of course, he doesn’t come every night. He probably has a whole life outside of this. He must’ve gotten bored of playing cards. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.

You’re passing the time talking to one of the regulars at the bar, Vinny. He’s in his fifties, you think, with gray hair and laugh lines. He’d gone bust at the poker table (or maybe it was craps tonight) earlier and then had moved to the bar to drink away his sorrows and bad luck. That was how his nights tended to go.

He’s sitting on a barstool, his arm around your waist where you stand next to him. He’s a little close for comfort, but he’s always just been a friendly guy, so you’re alright. Which is why you’re so surprised when, in the middle of a story about the good old days of the Copa Cabana, his other hand suddenly finds its way between your thighs. You freeze. For just a second. Then you force out a laugh and try to push his hand away. “Bad boy,” you try to tease, your voice shaking. His hand will not move. What is happening? “Come on, let’s keep our hands to ourselves.”

Instead of doing what you’ve asked, his thumb briefly brushes the inside of your leg and then his whole hand begins moving higher. You stop breathing. You push again but he won’t budge.

“You’re such a pretty doll, aren’tcha?” he says. 

Tears start to gather in your eyes. You look around wildly to see if anyone’s noticing what’s happening. Colin’s busy making drinks. Jake and Lloyd are talking by the door. Everyone else is engrossed in their own business. “Vinnie, stop, please,” you whisper. You don’t know why you can’t get your voice to work, can’t get your body to move.

“Come on,” he cajoles, “I’m being nice, aren’t I?” 

Then his thumb brushes against your panties and your entire body jolts into action. You wrench your leg out of his grasp and take several steps away from him. Your whole body is shaking now. “I gotta–” you start, trying to keep your tone casual and failing miserably. “I gotta get back to work, Vinny.” Then you grab your tray off the bartop and walk away as fast as you can.

You don’t really have a destination in mind. You pick up a few empties as you wander between tables. You can feel his eyes on you, following you. You try to take a deep breath, calm yourself down. It isn’t very helpful. You look up to see Jake by himself now. You make your way over to him, Holly’s words on your first night in your ears. That was out of hand, wasn’t it?

He looks up as you approach. His big golden retriever smile on his face. “Hey, what’s up?” Then he actually takes you in and his smile drops. “What happened?”

“Um, Vinny, he, uh–” You feel a few tears fall down your cheeks and you just shake your head.

Jake’s face darkens. “Did he hurt you?” 

“No, uh, he– he just–” You shake your head again. “No, he didn’t hurt me.”

Jake doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at you. There’s something about the way he does it that makes you think he understands everything you just can’t say. He nods once. “Alright. I’ll take care of it. You go take your time in the back. Do what you need to do. He’ll be gone by the time you’re done.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Okay, thank you,” you say so quietly. Then you get yourself to the back room as quickly as you can.

It’s really more of a hallway than a room, small and narrow. All of the storage space for the building is in the legitimate bar upstairs. But there’s enough room for you to crouch down, your knees pulled up tight to your chin. You bury your face in your thighs and let the tears you’ve been holding in finally fall. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re fine. 

You don’t know how long you’ve spent trying to calm yourself down when a large shadow suddenly looms over you. It takes you a moment to gather your strength to find out who it is. You hope it’s Jake telling you Vinny’s gone. You’re afraid it might be Lloyd, here to tell you to get back to work. There’s a slowly building terror that it might be Vinny himself.

After a deep breath, you look up to find Curtis staring down at you, concern on his face and fiery anger in his eyes. “What happened?” he growls.

You shake your head and turn away. He crouches down in front of you. “Are you alright?”

A humorless, uncontrolled laugh escapes you. Once you finally stop, you ignore his question and ask your own, “Why are you here?”

It takes him a very long time to answer. He just looks at you seriously for several moments. Then, finally, “Jake called me.” While you try to figure out why on earth Jake would do that, he continues, “I'm sorry I wasn’t already here.”

“Why?” you blurt out without thinking. 

He looks away without saying anything. You both just sit in the silence for a few moments. Then, you try to change tactics. “Where were you?” you ask out of morbid curiosity. You can't imagine what his life is like outside of here.

“Working,” he says curtly. He plays with a ring on his middle finger and the movement draws your eyes to his hands, specifically his knuckles. They're scraped and caked with dried blood. 

You swallow and you catch how his eyes track the movement. His eyes are always on you. He catches everything. 

“Someone touched you?”

“Lots of people touch me,” you say, flatly. “It's part of the job. You touch me.”

His eyes narrow at that. “But this was different.” It isn’t a question.

You look down at your hands in your lap and don't say anything. 

“Tell me who it was.”

“No,” you say instinctively, something about the moment feeling incredibly dangerous. 

He huffs in frustration. “Are you trying to protect him?”

“No!” you say, sharply. “I’m protecting myself.”

“You don’t have to do that. Not from me. Not ever.”

You don’t know how to tell him that every atom in you knows that that isn’t true. You can’t explain it, and it wasn’t until the moment he joined you in this little closet, but you’d swear that he’s a danger to you. You just can't articulate how, but you feel it in your bones. And still, here you stay.

At your silence, he grits out, “If you don’t tell me who it was, Jake will.”

Jake probably already has, that’s what you’ve figured. “Great,” you say. “Then you don’t need me to say it.”

“Bambi,” he lets out in an exasperated growl. “I'm trying to help you.” 

You just look at him and then figure you may as well ask the main question that's on your mind. “Why did Jake call you?” 

He ignores you and stands up. “Come on,” he says and extends his hand, “I'm taking you home.”

You just blink up at him. “My shift isn't over.” 

He shakes his hand at you impatiently. “It is now. Come on.”

You shake your head. “Curtis, this is my job. I can't just– Lloyd will–”

“I'll take care of Lloyd. Let’s go.”

You think about going home. About sitting alone in your small apartment. At least here you'll have something to do, things to focus on, to keep you busy. At home, there'll be nothing to think about other than that hand between your legs and– “No,” you say as firmly as you can manage. “I'm staying here. I'm finishing the night.”

His jaw ticks but he doesn’t say anything, just tries to stare you down. You stare right back. You will not concede this. 

Finally, he exhales through his nostrils, then growls out an unhappy “Fine. But I'll–” He's interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. He takes it out and glances at the caller ID and sighs. “I have to take this.” He steps away as much as he can in the tiny area and answers with a curt “Everett.” There's a slight pause. “Yeah, I took care of it.” Another pause that has him glancing at you. “No, something else came up.”

You don't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. You take the opportunity to go back to the main room and get back to work. 

You don't see Curtis again that night. You don't spare much thought to where he might've gone. You're too focused on getting through the remainder of your shift. When it's done, Jake insists on seeing you home. You don't ask why. You already know who's behind it.

The next few days are fine. You try to put what happened behind you, doing your best to ignore it. But that becomes impossible when three days after the incident you watch Vinny walk in. You can’t help the little burst of panic you feel as you warily watch him sit down at his usual table and get dealt in. 

As subtly as you can, you make your way over to Jake. You don’t even say anything before he’s looking at you, chagrined. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry, but I had to let him in. I promise it’s all going to be taken care of. It’s just– You can ignore him tonight, ok? Just trust me. You don’t need to worry about him. I promise.”

“Ok,” you say reluctantly, trying to resist looking back at Vinny. “I just– I didn’t think I’d have to see him again.”

“I really think that after tonight you won’t,” he says sincerely.

You don’t really understand what that means, but you nod anyway. “Ok,” you say. “I, uh, I should get back to work then.” 

He just nods after you, looking a little concerned and a little sad. But the room is filling up, so you don’t have time to delve into it.

Sometime later, as you’re taking a brief moment to idle by the bar, a strange hush descends over the room. You’re facing away from the door, away from the rest of the room, but you see Colin take in whatever it is that’s caused this. His face pales and he lets out a quiet, urgent, “Shit.” 

You turn around to see what on earth could be going on and you immediately freeze. Curtis is here. But that’s not what’s garnering all of this attention. Well, not all. Because he’s not alone, there’s a man with him. A little shorter, not quite as broad. But you’d be able to feel the power radiating off of him, even if you didn’t recognize him. Soft dark hair, thick beard, an immaculately tailored suit. You’ve seen him in the papers, on the news, but in real life, he’s even more intimidating. Andrew Barber.

Barber leans in close to say something to Curtis, who nods, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Your breath catches, but luckily Colin calls your name behind you and you have an excuse to turn around. He places two glasses of dark liquor on the bar. “Everett,” he says, gesturing to one, then “Barber,” while waving his hand over the other. “Got it?” You nod and place them on your tray. They’re identical to your eyes except for the fact that Barber's has a muddled black cherry at the bottom of the glass.

You carefully bring them over, trying to force yourself to breathe. Curtis intercepts you and grabs the drinks when you're a few steps away. “Thank you, Bambi,” he says, lowly. 

Barber perks up. “This is Bambi? Really?” He extends a hand and you have no choice but to take it. “Andy Barber,” he says with a disarming smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you finally.”

His handshake is firm, demanding. He is terrifying in his friendliness. And he knows who you are. Has known, for who knows how long. You glance at Curtis, but he's just calmly drinking his whiskey. You don't know what to say, what are you supposed to say?? So after too long a pause, you practically whisper, “Thank you, Mr. Barber.”

He chuckles lightly as he takes back his hand. To Curtis, he says, “You're right, Bambi does suit her.” Then he turns back to you and adds, “Andy, please.”

“O– Okay, Andy,” you say, with what you desperately hope is a benign smile. You look over at Curtis, you’re not entirely sure why, but out of these two dangerous options, he, at least, is familiar. “I should get back to work.”

Curtis is staring at you, but it’s Andy who answers. “Mmm, and we have a game to join, don’t we?” Curtis nods but still doesn’t break his gaze. Andy smirks, “No rest for the wicked.”

You have no idea what to do with that sentiment, so you take the opportunity and get out of there. You walk through the tables, checking to see if anyone needs anything, but the mob boss’s physical presence seems to have ground all action to a halt. The room is collectively holding its breath. 

You go back to the bar for want of anything else to do. Colin is standing ramrod straight, coiled in case he needs to spring into action. Lloyd is sitting down at the end of the bar, drumming his fingers, eyes moving all around the room. You settle next to Holly, who looks just as scared as she did that first night when she was trying to warn you off of Curtis. “Is this,” you start to ask, your voice shaking. “Is this normal? Does he come here a lot?”

“No, never” she shakes her head. “Why would he come here? He has real clubs and restaurants. He doesn’t need to hang out in a shit hole like this.” She shakes her head again. “He’d only come here for a reason.”

You turn your head back to the room and find that Andy and Curtis have settled at Vinny’s table, joining his game across from him. Your heart lands in your throat. That can’t– No. You’re just some cocktail waitress. Even with Curtis’s obvious interest in you, you aren’t important enough to bring the most powerful man in the city here. You’re nothing. He must have other reasons.

The room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop as everyone waits for something to happen, which is why when Andy does start speaking, you don’t have to strain your ears to pick up every word.

He looks at his cards carefully, then over at Vinny. “You know, Vinny, you’re a hard man to track down.” His voice is so calm, it sends a chill up your spine. “You don’t go home, we can’t find you at work. I was starting to get worried.” He runs a few chips through his fingers before tossing them into the center of the felt. “That’s why, when I heard you were showing up here, I sent my best man to investigate,” he nods towards Curtis, “just to make sure you were ok.” 

You don’t have a great view of Vinny from where you’re standing, but you can see how stiff he is, how silent. But he still calls when it’s his turn.

“You can imagine my relief when I found out you were alright. Except,” he raises again, a few more chips into the pot, “you’re losing a lot of money, aren’t you? Now, this upsets me. Not because you’re losing your own money. But because it’s mine, isn’t it?”

Vinny finally tries to pipe up. “Andy, hold on. I can ex–”

“You owe me $150,000, Vinny. With interest, that total’s climbing every day. And yet, you sit here and you just keep losing, don’t you? At my own game. What would you do if you won, huh? Would you really try paying me back with my own money? I thought maybe you’d at least have the smarts to cross the border and try this at one of Roger’s casinos. Huh? Paying me back with my enemy’s money, at least that I could respect. But no, it’s only me you think is stupid enough to fall for your bullshit. So now I’m here to give you the chance to fucking do it to my face.” With that, he violently pushes all of his chips into the center of the table. 

Everyone else has folded. It’s just Barber and Vinny now. You’re not sure Curtis even actually played. He’s just staring Vinny down, although occasionally his eyes will flick up and meet yours. You hate feeling like you’re a part of this, but you don’t know what else to do besides watch it play out.

Vinny is just spluttering, while Andy calmly looks on. It’s all the expected, cliche stuff you’ve seen in gangster movies. He’s got the money, he swears. He just needs a little more time. Andy has to know he’s good for it! You want to roll your eyes right along with Andy.

“Call, Vinny,” Andy cuts him off, sternly. “That’s $150,000 I just put in the pot. Call. And if you win, we’re even. Your debt’s erased. But if you lose, well then that’s $300,000 you’ll owe me. And you know I won’t be able to tolerate that. So call. And let’s find out where we stand.”

You can’t see what Vinny’s doing, but you can imagine the way his fingers must be hovering over his chips, his eyes moving down to his cards to check, one more time, if they’re as good or bad as he remembers. You know there’s no way out for him either way. He’ll have to call. He’s just delaying the inevitable.

You feel like you can't breathe as you wait for him to just finally do it, but Andy cuts in again. “The thing I can't understand, Vinny, is why you kept coming here after Curtis showed up. Either you're very stupid or really fucking greedy.” He looks at Vinny carefully. “Maybe a little of both. I hear you've been touching something that doesn't belong to you.”

You gasp. No one notices, but you do. He can't be talking about you. He can't. He can't. 

Vinny seems even more confused than you. “What are you talking about? I haven't touched anything!”

Andy continues to ignore him. “So you're stupid and greedy. That's why you aren't afraid of him like you should be. They call him my attack dog, did you know? Have you heard that? Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you think he’s some puppy that follows me around. You’d be stupid to underestimate him, underestimate me. But maybe you only do that because you've never seen my dog off his leash.”

Curtis springs into action, lunging across the table to grab Vinny by the collar, and then slams his head into the felt. Before there’s even time to react, he’s stood and he's picking Vinny back up and hurling him onto the floor. Curtis comes around the table to stalk after him and the look on his face has you gasping for breath. You've never seen Curtis like this. There's a glint in his eye that might be the scariest thing you've ever seen. Who is this man? What is he capable of?

Vinny is dazedly trying to crawl away, but Curtis catches him easily. He grabs Vinny’s collar and hauls him back up, delivering two punches to his face in quick succession. The sound it makes. There's no other sound in the whole room. No one's saying anything, no one's doing anything. Everyone's just watching, hypnotized. You turn away, your stomach churning. Your eyes catch on Andy, sitting back in his chair, placidly drinking the whiskey you brought him, completely relaxed, like he's watching anything else. You can't look at him either. 

The room is completely silent except for the crunching of bones, Vinny’s whimpers, and Curtis’s grunts. You look up again to be startled by eye contact with Curtis. His eyes are wild, unhinged. Feral. But there's something else in it, like all of this is for you. That all of you are there, everything is happening, because Vinny dared to touch you. It takes your breath away. It’s mesmerizing.

Andy finally stands and strides over to where Curtis is holding Vinny up in the middle of the room. He looks down at Vinny, then spits in his face. “I'm tired of trying to draw blood from a stone,” he says. Then he turns to Curtis and finishes, “Get rid of him.”

Curtis gives you one last long look, his face unreadable. You feel it in your knees. Then he drags Vinny out, leaving a bloody trail behind him.

The moment they're gone, it's like the entire room can breathe again. “Lloyd,” Andy calls out. “How ‘bout a round for everyone? On me.”

Lloyd nods to Colin who hurriedly starts pouring drinks. And you, so grateful for something to do, instead of just standing there, shaking, start loading the glasses on your tray.

As you begin to pass them out, Andy of all people, pulls you aside. “Bambi,” he says quietly, “I hope you know now, we take care of our own.”

You gaze at him, shocked. It feels like a comfort and a threat. But why? It's not so much the implication that this all had something to do with you, but you can't for the life of you imagine what you've done to get yourself to a place where Andy Barber might consider you his, however distantly. It can't just be that you work here. You can't picture him doing something similar for Holly or Colin. Once again, this all feels so incredibly dangerous. 

While you're struggling to come up with anything to say to that, he grabs a drink off your tray and downs it quickly. Then, with a wink, he turns and leaves. You’re left staring after him until someone calls after you and you're scrambling to pass out drinks again. 

The night ends quickly. No one seems eager to stay and drink and play after everything that's happened. Not when there's still blood on the floor.

You do what you can to help clean up, but when you stare at the stain helplessly, Lloyd tells you not to worry about it. He's got a guy.

Colin walks out with you so you aren’t in the parking lot alone. You're grateful. You're still so shaken. As you approach your car, your beater that you still don’t quite have the money to replace, you see someone leaning against it. You stop short, looking to Colin for help, but he just keeps walking to his own car, his head down. That’s when you know it’s Curtis. 

You take a deep breath and then force yourself to keep walking towards him. You can't begin to parse how you feel to see him now. Your keys are ready in your hand like you might just get in and drive off without speaking to him. You know you won’t.

When you reach him, his voice is rough as he asks, “Are you ok?” He’s cleaned up. There’s no more blood on his hands, his clothes have been straightened.

You open your mouth to answer, even though you have no idea, so instead what comes out is “Did you kill him?”

“Did you want me to?” is his immediate reply.

It stops you in your tracks as all sorts of feelings come bubbling up, ones you can not, will not examine. This is about his propensity for violence, how terrifying he became, not– No. “Did you?” you insist. 

He looks at you carefully then shakes his head. “I don't think you actually want me to answer that.”

“But you've killed before?” You can't stop yourself from pressing, from pushing. You don’t know why. 

He just sort of smiles, gently almost, in a way that is deeply unsettling. “You need to stop asking questions you aren’t ready for me to answer, Bambi.” And it’s the way he says the nickname, like you really are that babe in the woods, just born with no knowledge of the world around you, that has your hackles rising.

“Andy called you his dog,” you say, like he should be offended.

To your surprise, he laughs, his head thrown back. Then he takes a step closer to you, and you take the opportunity to sneak in behind him, get to your car. You realize your mistake immediately when he turns back around and cages you in, your back pressed against the driver’s side door. “Everyone calls me his dog. Because he’s the civilized man in the designer suit, and I’m the animal just begging for a reason to slip my leash.”

Your heart pounds wildly in your chest. You should get into your car. You should drive away as fast as you can. You should never come back. But you don’t. “You did it for him,” you say, mustering all the strength into your voice that you can. “You didn’t do it for me.”

He leans over you, the space between you shrinking rapidly. “Yeah, he asked me to do it,” he nods. “But if he hadn’t, I still would have done it. For you.”

 You try to shake your head, to tell him that that can’t be true, even as a wild, loud part of you starts to rise up and claw out of your chest. You try to tamp it down, deny it, but before you can, Curtis is leaning in further, his whole body pressing against you, and then he covers your lips with his.  

There’s a heat that comes up out of him that fills you, the instant his skin touches yours. His hands are on you, your neck, your hip. You can’t keep track, can only say that his hands are there, everywhere, that his body touches all of yours, that his lips and his tongue are demanding, unrelenting. You are burning up from the inside.

Too soon, but ages later, he pulls away. His eyes are on fire as he looks at you. Then he tears his gaze away, and hits the roof of your decrepit car twice, looking at it disdainfully. “You get home safe,” he says, then steps back to allow you the space you need to get into your car.

You do what he wants you to do. You get in your car, sit in the driver’s seat, and then stare blankly out the windshield. You’ve never felt so out of control in your life. How did this happen? You were flirting for tips, that was all! You encouraged it for money, that was it, and now– You press your thighs together, trying not to pant. You will not be unmoored. 

A slight movement in your periphery makes you notice that Curtis is still standing just to the side of your car, watching you. You turn your keys in the ignition and shift into drive.

It doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything, you chant to yourself all the way home.

It’s your next shift back, and everything seems to have changed. You don’t understand it. You keep doing laps of the room, keep sidling up to regulars you were so friendly with just a few nights ago, but now, they won’t even look at you, let alone touch you. No one’s ordering anything.

Or at least, they aren’t ordering from you.

Holly has been running around nonstop all night, basically having to take care of the entire room by herself. You watch man after man after man slip her little bundles of money. 

You want to scream. What the fuck happened? What did you do? What are you going to do?

You go to stand by the bar to wait for something you can do. Colin gives you a brief nod of acknowledgment but that’s it. He’s been cold, too. No. Not cold, distant. You don’t understand what’s changed.

You take a deep breath. It’s one weird night. Things will be better tomorrow.

Things don’t get better. The next night is the same. You’re starting to panic. This job was supposed to be your lifeline. Without it, without the money you were making, you’re not sure how you’ll survive.

Curtis comes in after a couple of hours of nothing. You could cry you’re so happy to see him. But terrified too. If he gives you the cold shoulder, this job really is over. But you have no idea how he’s going to act, not after what happened last time. You’re not sure how you’re going to act either. You can still feel his lips on yours.

You bring him his whiskey immediately and he greets you with an arm around your waist, pulling you in. “Hey Bambi,” he says quietly. Then he gets a good look at you. “What’s wrong?” 

You look at him carefully, not sure what to confide. You aren’t even sure what the problem is. You shake your head. “Not my best night,” you say with a tired smile. “But I’m fine.”

He stares at you for a moment, then stands up. “Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the little back room. You feel eyes on the two of you the whole way there.

Once he’s closed the door behind you both, he asks again, “What’s wrong?”

You sigh. “The last two nights have been weird here. I don’t– I don’t know. I’m just worried. I don’t know what happened but I’m not making any tips. No one’s treating me like they used to.”

“Mmm,” Curtis hums thoughtfully. “I think,” he says as he takes two steps closer to you, which in this small space is significant, “everyone else here has figured it out.”

It’s suddenly a little hard to breathe with him standing over you like this. His presence, his attention is always so much. “Figured what out?” you ask, confused.

“That I have lost my patience for watching other men touch you.” 

It hits you like a freight train. “What?” It comes out in a whisper.

“I’ve let this go on for too long,” he says, his voice is calm, casual. “I don’t want you working here anymore. This is done.”

“I– What? Curtis. What?! I have to work! I have to pay my bills! I don’t understand. I don’t–”

He takes one last step forward. You feel the heat coming off of him. “Shh,” he soothes, cradling your cheek in his hand. “It’ll be alright. I’ll take care of you. I take care of what’s mine.”

You pull your face away, even as the urge to nuzzle into him is so strong. You feel like you’ve missed something, a thousand things. You feel too many steps behind. “Curtis, I’m not– I’m not yours.”

Something comes into his eyes and you’re reminded of him standing over Vinny, covered in blood. His hand travels down from your cheek. He strokes your throat once, and then his hand closes around it. “Look me in the eye,” he growls, “and say that again.”

His hand is firm, snug, but it doesn’t tighten. But you can imagine so easily how it might. You look him in the eye. You open your mouth, ready to say it again. But then– then you see it. In the way he looks at you, the way he’s always looked at you. You feel it in his grip on you, now. You can’t deny it anymore. 

Curtis shoves you into his bedroom. You’re panting already. You need his hands on you, right now. You don’t have to ask for it. He gets you to the center of the room and yanks down your skirt, tearing it in the process. You step out of it and take your blouse off, throwing it on top of your skirt. Curtis’s eyes are cataloging your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out of your bra, your soft tummy, thick thighs. His gaze, as always, takes your breath away.

You reach out for Curtis’s shirt, but he grabs your hands. “I want you on your knees,” he growls and you immediately kneel for him. He throws off his shirt, revealing the expanse of his chest, the muted blacks and grays of his tattoos. You’re desperate to run your hands over them, trace the art, but instead, they just twitch at your side. He'll tell you what you're allowed to do.

He begins unbuttoning his jeans and your mouth drops open. He chuckles darkly. “Perfect little slut.” He takes his phone out of his back pocket and aims it at you, taking a picture as you gaze up at him under your lashes, your mouth wide open. “I've been dreaming of getting you on your knees for me.” He puts his phone on his dresser, then continues taking off his pants. “You ready to choke on my cock, baby?”

“Please,” you whine. You're practically salivating now. His bare thighs are as thick as tree trunks, the muscles corded. His abs ripple as he moves. His shoulders, his back. You want.

He frees his cock and rolls his black boxer briefs down his legs, stepping out of them. It's long and thick, just like the rest of him. Your breath catches. You don't think you've ever taken something that big before.

He takes a few steps so he's completely in your space, his cock bobbing right in front of your face. He takes it in one hand, the other firmly on the back of your head and slowly feeds the tip into your mouth. You taste his musk on your tongue. As he rocks into your mouth, going a little further each time, your hands come up to grasp his thighs. On his next thrust in, you run your tongue along the underside of his dick. His movements stutter just a little and then he looks down at you, a smirk overtaking his face. It's just a touch mean, in a way that has you soaking your panties. “You ready?” he asks, his voice rough. And then without waiting for the answer, he thrusts in all the way, making you take him deep in your throat.

You flail, slapping his thigh as you try to swallow around him, breathing frantically through your nose. After holding you there for a moment, he sets a brutal but steady pace. It takes you a moment, but you find your rhythm, your panic subsiding. Once you feel steady, you lift one hand from his thighs and bring it up to cradle his balls. “Fuck, Bambi,” he grinds out. “You're gonna– I– fuck!” His hand moves from the back of your head down to the back of your neck, which he grips firmly, pulling you off his cock. As you cough and splutter on the floor, he growls, “The first time you make me come is gonna be inside that perfect cunt.”

He helps you stand on wobbly legs, then shoves his hand between your legs, cupping your pussy over your panties. “Shit, fucking soaked just from deepthroating me?”

You let out a needy little whine, trying to push further into his hand, but he withdraws it, instead settling on your hip. “Well,” he grins, “if they’re ruined anyway…” then uses that hand to rip the black lace down the side, letting them fall to the floor. He makes quick work of your bra as well, then takes a step back and sighs, “Shit, Bambi, look at you.” It’s the reverence in his voice and on his face that has you launching yourself at him, unable to keep from kissing him any longer. He lets you, quickly taking control, letting you feel all his hunger, the want he’s kept barely bottled up since he first laid eyes on you. You understand it all now. His erection brushes against you, and now it’s his turn to whine, just a little. 

He pulls away, brushing a hand down your cheek, then says “Get on the bed, on your stomach.” You quickly comply, laying in the center of the bed with your knees pulled up and spread beneath you. He brings his hand down on one asscheek harshly and you can’t help the lewd moan that escapes you. He chuckles, “Oh, I will definitely remember that for later.” He grabs your hips and cants them up, then whistles at your exposed cunt. “I knew it. Absolutely beautiful.” Then he unceremoniously shoves two fingers into your hole and you choke on nothing. “Shh,” he coos. “You can take it. My cock’s gonna be a lot thicker.” 

As he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, you can’t hold it in any longer and start babbling. Mostly a combination of “please,” and “Curtis,” and “I need,” over and over.

“I know, baby,” he says as he pulls his fingers out of you. “I’ve got what you need right here.” You have a brief moment to feel the tip of his cock on your pussy lips before he’s thrusting it into you, as far as he can go without making it hurt. 

“Oh my god,” you cry, pressing your forehead into the mattress and balling his dark blue sheets in your hands. You feel so full. It’s so good. He’s working himself into you as quickly as he can, desperate now. You both are. Once he bottoms out, fully seated in you, he pauses. Then with one hand on your stomach and the other around your neck, he pulls you up onto your knees, your back flush to his chest. You cry out at the new angle; he’s somehow even deeper now. He starts thrusting up into you at a punishing pace. You’re bouncing up and down in his firm grasp. The hand on your neck turns your head to face him, his lips brushing against yours. He holds eye contact with you as the hand on your stomach snakes down your pelvis so his thick fingers can begin circling your clit. “Fuck! Curtis, please!” you shout. 

“Yeah, come on,” he breathes, “you can let go. You can do it. Come for me like a good girl.” It’s those words that send you careening over the edge, your cunt pulsing around his cock, squeezing him until he’s coming too with a grunt, filling you up until both your cum is leaking out around him. 

He holds you there, on your knees, as you both come down, your twin pants all you can hear.

You wake up slowly, the sun shining on you through the soft drapes. You start to shift then groan at how stiff you are. The night before comes back to you. Curtis took you two more times before you both collapsed in satisfied exhaustion. He’s still out like a light beneath you. 

You take a moment to look at him. It’s odd to see him so peaceful, so still. There’s nothing of the feral predator he projects to the world. It makes you feel oddly close to him, seeing him like this.

You carefully get up without disturbing him and begin collecting your clothes. You put on your bra, but there’s no saving your panties. Same for your skirt; it’s ripped along the seam. So instead you pick up Curtis’s t-shirt from last night and put it on. It smells like him. You breathe it in shamelessly knowing there’s no one to witness it.

You savor the soreness as you move out of the bedroom. It’s like you can still feel him inside you, how much he wanted you, needed you. It makes you feel a little powerful, having that effect on a man like him.

You make your way into his living room. You didn’t really have a chance to look at his house last night, as determined as he was to get you into the bedroom. If you’d ever thought to picture it, this wouldn’t be far off. It’s all rich blues and greens and grays, leather and dark wood. Masculine. It suits him. 

As you’re admiring the room, you hear footsteps behind you and then two big arms are encircling your waist, pulling you into him. “Good morning,” he rasps. 

You turn your head to him. “Good morning,” you say with a smile.

“Fuck, Bambi, you’re even hotter in my shirt than you were last night.”

You smirk at him even as your face heats. “Mmm,” you hum. “It’s comfy. You might not get it back.” He nuzzles into your neck as you continue. “I was hoping you might have something I could wear for bottoms, too. You destroyed my skirt.”

His beard roughly drags against your skin as he asks, “Why the hell would I let you wear bottoms?”

You laugh. “Because I have to leave the house, Curtis.”

“No, you don’t,” he says as his hand begins to move between your thighs.

You playfully swat him away, even as you feel yourself getting wet again from his attention. “I have to go home.”

“Why? You’re staying here.” It’s how certain he sounds that has you turning around in his arms.

“What?”

“I don’t like your building. It isn’t safe enough. Now that I finally have you, of course, I’m going to keep you here with me.”

Once again, you feel too many steps behind. You just blink at him, confused. How does he even know where you live??

He takes your chin in his hand, his fingers gentle. “I told you, Bambi, I take care of what’s mine.”

Tag list

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @midnightramyeoncravings

[im-ovulating]

Darling, I need some Dom!Jasper smut asap pls. 😉

(A/n: Order up!)

(A/n: Special thanks to @pawspurpaw for taking on the challenge of being my Twilight beta reader😘😂)

Word Count: 3,200

Summary- Just another case of the swing dancing to fucking pipeline

Warnings: strangers to lovers/semi one night stand-ish, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, blowjob, cream pie, kinda Major! Jasper

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Jasper Whitlock x Fem! Reader: Swing

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

“What’s a lady like you doin’ all by herself, darlin’?” A smooth drawl comes from behind you, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You turn to look at your sudden companion.

Wavy blonde hair that stops just short of his jaw, strong eyebrows, thin lips quirked up on one side in a slight smirk. But the thing that catches your attention the most is his eyes - soft gold - almost glowing in the dim light of the bar.

He wears a white tee with dark-wash blue jeans and cowboy boots. Simple, but by god, attractive.

After taking a second to admire the man in front of you, you nod in answer towards your friend, still dancing with the guy who had swept her away almost an hour ago. She’s got a bright smile on her face as she sways against her companion, and it makes you smile as well. You had brought her out to forget about her lousy ex, and you have to say: you’re glad to see it's worked.

“Mission: Rebound was a success,” you verbally answer as well.

The stranger tilts his chin up in understanding.

“I’m sure she won’t mind if I steal you away for a couple of minutes, then?” He holds his hand out to you with a playful grin and a quirked eyebrow.

You can't help but return his smile. Sure, you're here to cheer her up, but who says you can't have some fun, too?

"I'm sure she won't~" you drawl back in an awful attempt at a texan accent. Placing your hand in his, you're shocked by the temperature difference between you.

Probably poor circulation, you think.

Brushing it off, you say, "Hope you don't mind the possibility of you getting stepped on."

He chuckles as he pulls you to the dance floor. "Not at all, Ma'am~"

He places a hand on your hip just as a new, higher energy song begins. "Just relax, I'll guide you- and I've been told I'm an excellent lead~"

And, boy, is he ever-

He twirls you around the floor, the hollow sound of the floor boards with each of your heeled foot falls joins that of the other patrons' steps, adding that much more to the country song blasting through the bar.

Letting your mind shut down and allowing your body to take over, you manage to avoid stomping on his boots and even throw in a couple impromtu hip sways and hair flips into the mix.

He swiftly dips you down, and you make upside down eye contact with your friend. She gives you a playful wink before being spun away herself.

He pulls you back up and into a twirl, holding your back against his chest before spinning you back out and under his arm.

You exchange a back and forth of steps, laughing as you back him up with a hand to the chest.

"Thought you said you couldn't dance, darlin?'" He smirks down at you as he pulls you into a side dip.

"Guess you are a good lead, after all~" you twirl into him before falling back into a fall through dip.

"That-" he says as his spins you out again. "-or you just sold yourself short, sweetheart."

"Maybe..."

The song ends with you held against him, hands pinned against his chest as he smiles down at you.

"The name's Jasper, Jasper Whitlock, darlin'." He releases you but keeps the proximity. "And what do I have the pleasure of callin' you?"

"You can call me yours if you keep saying "darling" like that." You can't help but laugh out.

Jasper shakes his head with a chuckle as you compose yourself.

"Y/n," you say. My name's Y/n L/n."

Jasper takes your hand and brings it up to press a kiss to your knuckles. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Miss Y/n; it was an even greater pleasure to dance with you~"

Your cheeks burn as you stare into his golden eyes, almost enraptured.

Clearing your throat, you open your mouth to respond only for your friend to cut you off.

"Y/n!" You turn to see her latched onto her new guy friend. Her cheeks are flushed as she stifles a laugh at something he says. "I'm gonna go with Colt, I'll see you tomorrow."

It's then that she seems to notice the lack of space between you and Jasper.

"Or... not~" she smirks before starting to drag the guy - Colt - towards the exit. "Have funnnn~~"

You hear a snort and turn back to Jasper. "Sorry about her, she's... her." You chuckle.

"Not at all," he slings an arm over your shoulder, leading you off the dance floor as another song starts. "What do you say to getting out of here darlin'?"

"That's the best idea you've had all night," you tease.

.

You finally break apart as Jasper kicks the door shut behind him. His eyes are dark with lust as he stalks toward you, ever the predator hunting his prey.

Falling perfectly into your role, you start to back up slowly, making your way towards your living room.

In a couple of long strides, Jasper closes the distance between you, grabbing your jaw in his large hand. He forces you to watch as he slowly rakes his eyes down your figure.

You can feel your heart pick up as his free hand comes up to tease along the hem of your shirt.

"Take it off." His voice leaves no room for question as he drops his arms, moving to undo his belt buckle. His slender fingers distract you as they unclip the hunk of metal and start their work on his button and zipper.

He stops when he notices you not moving.

"Take it off, or I'll change my mind about shoving these inside you later." He flexes his hand for emphasis.

His threat has you snapping into action, sliding off your top, and kicking your shoes and pants off. Thank god you decided to wear your best set, you think as you stand in just your undergarments.

"Good girl, darlin'."

He finishes undoing his jeans and shucks them down just enough to free his length. Your eyes widen slightly as you take him in. Even at half mast, he's still insanely long and thick.

It makes your mouthwater.

As if reading your mind, Jasper gestures for you to come closer. You take the couple steps forward, hips swaying a bit as you do. Once directly in front of him, he speaks.

"On your knees. I want to see that pretty mouth of yours around my cock."

Swallowing in anticipation, you sink down until you're eye level with his crotch. Keeping eye contact, you reach up to stroke him, running your palm down his shaft and rubbing his tip into your palm.

A low rumble sounds from his chest as his eyes narrow.

Slowly, you lean forward to kitten lick at his slit before kissing your way down to his base.

"Don't -" You cut him off with a long lick back up to his tip.

"Don't what?" You smirk before pushing him fully into your mouth.

"Fuck..."

His eyes look almost black in this lighting as he stares down at you with lidded eyes.

As you pull back off, you press your tongue into a thick vein you feel on the underside of his girth. His hand shoots up to grip your hair at the feeling, pulling you off completely with the harse tug.

The sting pulls a moan from you as your eyes roll back.

Jasper's brow quirks up. "You like that?" He tugs harder, dragging yet another noise from you. "You like being roughed up, huh?"

He lines his cock back up with your mouth, smearing the spit-soaked tip across your bottom lip, before shoving back in. The sudden pressure in your throat makes you gag a bit, but you couldn't care less if it means he'll keep pulling your hair like that.

"I'll show you rough, darlin'."

His cock slams into the depths of your throat, uncaring as you gag around him.

Tears gather at the corner of your eyes from the treatment. Jaspers hand is still grpping your hair, keeping you from pulling off when he pushes in as much as he can, holding himself there for a second before fucking into your mouth again.

The grunts and strings of curses that leave his lips with each thrust makes your pussy clench. Slick gushes out to soak your panties as he lets out an almost feral growl.

"You fucking love this, dont you? Love being treated like a toy?"

A strangle moan claws its way up your throat at his words, the vibrations shooting up his cock making his head toss back with a loud 'Fuck!'

All of a sudden, he's pulling out of your mouth and practically tearing the rest of his clothes off. "Get on the couch."

You barely have time to get up before he is pulling you up and backing you up to said furniture. You briefly feel the fabric of it brush your calf before he grabs your thighs and pulls your legs from under you. You yelp as your back hits the cushion.

Jasper crawls on top of you, shoving your panties down to your ankles and shoving two fingers into your pulsing cunt before you can even bother voicing any complaint.

"Oh~" you breathe as he sinks his fingers into you. The wet slide of his digits is all you can focus on - oh fuck -

A noise just short of pornographic leaves you.

- especially when he curls his fingers like that.

You turn your head to bury it in the back of the couch as the heel of his hand brushes against your clit. The addicting friction making your hips buck as it rubs against you over and over.

"Look at you." Jasper shifts his hand to dig his thumb into your clit. "Falling apart on my fingers. Makes me wonder how you'll look once I have you on my cock."

Your pussy clenches. Whether it's at the thought or the delicious way his fingers keep brushing your cervix, you're not sure but you are sure that, right now, you'd give anything to properly fuck the man above you.

He already has you teetering dangerously close to climax from just his fingers, you're going to finding out what he can do with those hips if it's the last thing you do.

"I can feel you squeezin' my fingers, doll; are you that desperate for a cock?" Jasper dips down to press a harsh kiss to your lips.

"Been a while since you've been fucked right?" He trails down towards your neck, nose brushing across your jaw and skimming your neck as he breathes you in. He places a barely there peck to your collarbone before sitting back up.

His intense gaze mixes with the way his fingers curl just right and you're gone. One hand buries itself in your hair as you cry out while the other fists into the cushion.

"Jasper~" you moan, wave after wave of aftershock pulsing through you.

Jasper keeps working at you. Your vision dances with black spots as you ride out your orgasm , hips pushing up to meet his fingers with every curl.

Mind empty, all you can think about is getting this man's dick inside you. Discretion be damned at this point.

As the brain fog clears, his fingers start to slow before pulling out completely.

"Please," you gasp. "Please let me ride you~" Fuck being embarrassed.

The smile that he gives you is absolutely wolfish.

"Pretty girl wants to ride the cowboy? Well... Who am I to decline such a darlin' little lady?"

Before you can process his words, Jasper has you pulled up and manhandled into his lap.

He rests his arms across the back of the couch as he smirks down at you. "Ride away, sweetheart."

His legs spread, forcing your own apart and giving him the perfect view of his cock now resting against your stomach.

His stare has your thighs quivering as you lift up. You take his cock in your hands, lining him up before sinking back down. Your head drops forward as his thickness starts to stretch you out. Fucking finally.

"Atta girl, darlin'," he sighs out, head tilting back. With his neck on full display, you can't help but to lean forward and press a couple kisses up towards his ear.

"Let's see if you fuck as well as you dance~" You taunt, teeth nipping at his earlobe before you pull away.

You start to roll your hips against his, lifting up before grinding yourself back down.

"Careful." Jasper warns with a sharp thrust up. It makes your knees buckle, dropping you back onto him. His cock slams into you and forces a curse from your lips.

"Watch that mouth, sugar."

Huffing out a breath, you grip his shoulders before rocking your hips again.

You set a faster pace, practically slaming your body weight down again and again. Each ministration has your pussy clenching around him.

"Make me."

With those two words, you might as well have taped the box and shipped it yourself with how much you just sealed your fate.

Before you can blink, you're off his lap and on all fours. Jasper grips your hair, yanking your head back so he can whisper in your ear.

"Big mistake, darlin'~"

Without warning, Jasper shoves back in and sets a brutal pace. His cock slams into you at an animalistic pace. His arm slips under you to lift your hips, forcing him mind meltingly deeper.

Each slam of his hips against your thighs sends jolt after jolt of electricity running through your body. Every time his pelvis brushes against your clit, you can't help the twitch: your knee jerking to the side, your hips bucking...

It's overwhelming yet not enough.

You can feel your climax ebbing ever closer, but it teases you, staying just out of reach, as you grasp at anything you can get your hands on - you're gonna have to apologize for how hard your nails are digging into Jasper's forearms later. You might have to apologize to your neighbors as well. The thin walls of your apartment no doubt doing very little to obscure the obscene squelching and slapping echoing through your living room.

"You feel so good, doll," Jasper growls above you. His jaw is set as he watches you, eyes scanning each of your minuscule reactions.

Your pussy clenches at the praise, forcing him to slow do a grind as he lets loose a deep groan.

The sudden change of pace has your head falling back with a sigh; his cock presses firmly against your cervix, threatening to push impossibly further. "Fucking hell... Jasper~"

His fingers dips just the slightest deeper into your hips as he pulls your hips tighter against him. "Atta girl... Squeezing me so good~ You gonna milk this cock for all it's worth, sugar'?"

Jasper pulls his hand away from your iron-clad grip in favor of toying with your clit, hips still grinding against you.

The added stimulation makes your body scream out for him. For him to stay buried in your cunt, for him to keep touching you like that - oh~

You feel like an exposed wired, dangerous yet electrifying. You can't remember the last time someone fucked you this good. If ever.

The added friction is just enough to shove you over the edge; cumming so hard your vision goes black and you can barely hear it as you all but scream out Jasper's name.

Definitely gonna have to apologize to your neighbors.

"Fuck, darlin'," Jasper gasps out as your walls clamp down on him, hips stuttering as it forces him to spill his seed in you. The cum that paints your walls is cold, shocking you but not entirely unpleasant.

He ducks down to capture your lips in another kiss as he starts to grind into you again, riding out both of your highs.

You reach up to tangle your fingers in his soft locks as you kiss, soft sighs and moans breaking the kiss ever now and then. Jasper drops your hips in favor of almost tenderly gripping your jaw. He uses his grip to force you to open your mouth. The kiss becomes less of a kiss and more of a clash of teeth and tongue as he pulls you closer.

"Wanna taste you." He mumbles against your lips before pulling away.

Jasper slides down, pressing kisses and the occasional nibble to your skin.

Once between your legs, he licks a heavy strip up your folds as he keeps your gaze. Your breath stutters from the unexpected intensity of the action. "Open up wider for me, doll." He breathes against your skin.

Swallowing, you spread your thighs.

"There's my girl..."

"Oh fuck-" You let out a breathy chuckle. These nicknames and praise are gonna be the end of you.

You feel more than see his smirk. God damn it. This man is going to ruin all other guys for you...

Icy hands grip under your knees, pushing one of them towards your chest. "Hold this for me, doll."

As soon as you hook your forearm under your knee, Jasper is diving in like a man starved.

The way he licks and sucks at your clit sends your mind reeling. Is this what heaven is like? Nah, this man is definitely a work of Himeros himself.

You can't help the way your hand tries to shove his face closer as you grind up desperately.

"Taste so fucking good," your cheeks heat up as a sharp *slurp* seems to punctuate his words. "Guess callin' you 'sugar' wasn't too far off..."

You can do little but watch as he smirks up at you before plunging his tongue inside your slick and cum soaked cunt.

You can feel another orgasm working its way up. Still sensitive from the first one, it's hard to hold it back. especially with how his darkened eyes stare up at you, keeping you from looking away.

The sudden sting of his teeth grazing your clit is the beginning of your end.

"Oh god!" Your head throws back as your nails dig into his scalp. The harsh scratch of your fingers causes him to let out a warning growl, the vibrations shooting through you and yanking you fully back into ecstasy once more. Your legs clamp around his head as you cum. The way he sucks and licks you through it not helping the "you suffocating him" situation. Not that he seems to mind with how tight he's still holding you against him.

"Knew you had one more for me, darlin'," Jaspers gloats as he finally pulls back, wiping the mixture of cum from his chin.

He pauses before saying, "We're definitely going to have to apologize for the noise, though~" He smirks down at you as he pulls you into his cold chest

All you can do is stare up at the ceiling as a breathless laugh rips its way from your chest.

[mrs-gauche]

On a more serious note regarding the "Solas is like the devil on your shoulder constantly trying to make you make bad decisions".. I think @corseque made a good point, in that Fen'Harel in Dalish legends is known for giving cunning advice that, in true trickster fashion, may lead to a helpful outcome, but always at a cost or in a twisted way. We talked about how Solas might try to prevent Rook from trusting their companions because of his own issues/experiences with betrayal or that he might try to use Rook as a piece on his own "chess board".

But I think this also goes back to the mage origin in DAO and you being tested by Mouse, a pride demon, and how the greatest danger of the Fade is, after all, careless trust. I'm also thinking back to this banter between Solas and Vivienne, in which she literally said that he "sounds like a pride demon" trying to tempt you to "leave the path". Or Cullen saying that no demon will ever possess him because he is "too much like they are". Given that Solas literally translates to Pride and the Dread Wolf itself being described as a pride demon, this "devil on our shoulder" might end up being like one big test for us to pass throughout the story, much like the Harrowing in Origins. And building on that, there's also still this crucial piece of dialogue from Solas himself, talking about the perception of spirits and demons:

"The Fade reflects the minds of the living. If you expect a spirit of wisdom to be a pride demon, it will adapt. And if your mind is free of corrupting influences, if you understand the nature of the spirit, they can be fast friends."

In DAI, Solas was already a reflection of how you treat him. If it's true that, what the devs seem to be hinting at, we actually get to learn and see what happened in the ancient past and who Solas was before he "called himself Pride" (keeping in mind that Rook doesn't know anything about Solas as a person at the start of DA4), and we come to "understand his true nature"/original purpose/true name, then the above quote might be an analogy for how the relationship between Rook and Solas can develop and how we can influence Solas' character arc (on top of the relationship between him and the Inquisitor already having a huge impact on him?).

And if you think about it, it's so brilliant how they seem to put a spin on the whole thing now, by having the "pride demon" be the one who needs to trust the one who dreams. Or rather, expecting the pride demon to be a spirit of wisdom, and not the other way around.

The idea that Rook challenging/rivaling Solas by going against his "devil on our shoulder" advice/proving him wrong/"pass the test" and not expecting him to be that pride demon after Rook comes to understand his true nature/original purpose, could lead to him being more likely to "adapt", open up and learn how to trust again is so beautiful to me, but that could also mean a challenge for us Solas fans if we have to (at least in the beginning) bump heads with him in order to see that development. 🥲😂 Either way, Solas is truly in for the most intense kind of therapy session.

[cher-rei]

afterglow pt- 13 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

genre(s): friends to lovers, fluff, slowish?? burn and just a good time

[wc: 5.3k] afterglow masterlist

notes: rahhhhhh!!!

spamjam._.

liked by liverpoolfc and 3 244 225 others

spamjam._. may 24th anyone? [tagged: taylorhinds]

view all comments below

taylorhinds 👀💜 [liked by spamjam._.]

liverpoolfc collab of the century I fear

→ spamjam._. if you know, you know 🤞🏻

user collab?? are they doing a photoshoot together or something?

→ user probably, you know how jamie is and her random promo photoshoots for brands 😭

→ user take back to the adidas shoot last year omw

→ user life was so much easier back then

virgilvandijk oh, so you were serious? 😂

→ spamjam._. I had a 10 hour board meeting yesterday for this. don't test my commitment 🙄

trentarnold66 she's a baller 🥵 [liked by spamjam._.]

harvelliot LET'S GO!! COUNT YOUR DAYS ON THAT PITCH

fía.messi bro has me flying over for this 😭 [liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. I couldn't get your dad so I had to settle for the next best thing (and mateo is only 10 so I had to choose you 😔)

"what's the date today?"

"the 23rd," laura answered promptly and went back to typing something on her laptop while the rest of your media team carried on with their personal tasks in the meeting room.

you stood at the whiteboard in front— a black marker in one hand and your ipad in the other as you wrote out and marked certain dates down and finalised a few things.

"okay." you tapped the marker on your chin and took a step back from the board, gaining everyone's attention. "those pictures are up for the efl final, but I'm going to need a date for next week for my meeting with the set designers and stylists because I have a few ideas for the launch."

sienna, another member of your media team was quick to check her calender, her email set up on her desktop. "you're good for march 4th if we're set to release the shoot may 7th."

you bit the inside of your cheek as you thought for a moment. "put it down. I'd also like an update on the news for the boss' special collection and," you wrote down something under the title national duty. "I need the flags ordered asap."

the room fell silent after that, everyone in their own headspace while the sound of keyboards clicking sounded through the room. you wanted to make next season's kit release a big one, the board giving you three words to ride off of and the mock design for the kit a few months ago.

you quite liked the tribute to the design and after consulting a few close professionals (sophia and alexandra) there was an idea of what you were going for. the idea of a more sophisticated look and aesthetic ran through your mind, the question of how would you style the jersey yourself playing a role.

"moped," you blurted which got you a few strange looks. "I want a moped for the shoot."

logan, who was silent for most the of the meeting eyed you for a second. "like the scooter?"

"the bike from that one disney movie?" laura followed and pulled up her pinterest page, moving her laptop to show you and you nodded, writing it down under the kit launch column on the board.

"I want it in red and maroon and see if they can get the jersey design on it," you said while tieing up your hair because this was oh so obviously only the beginning of the meeting.

you had been so busy the past few hours, confined between four walls that the only sunlight you were getting was the light emitting from the passage through the simgular glass wall of your meeting room that overlooked the second floor. your phone was probably buzzing with messages from clara asking you when you were free for your lunch break but that was the last of your worries.

but eventually something caught your attention from the corner of your eye as you stood in front of your team, going over some extra details. "the videographers are working on it currently so all we nee--"

you paused mid-sentence, the glimpse of a figure strolling past the room catching your attention for a moment. "uhm, all we need is to check if..."

they walked past again, only this time at a pace that was definitely noticeable. normally you would've disregarded trent's childish behaviour in the middle of work but everyone was growing agitated and needed a break.

you flicked your attention from your team to trent who was strolling along with his hands in his pockets, only to come back a second time, then a third until your team gradually noticed him. your lips drew into a thin line as he sent them a small wave, pretending to be busy.

"okay, everyone we can take a break." you set the markers down, their thankful sighs of relied making you laugh. "I'll see you in 45, okay?"

the seven of your team members flooded out the door in no time, leaving you alone while trent waited until they were out of sight to finally enter the room. he walked up you the whiteboard beside you, trying to act as if he knew what any of the writing meant while you continued to joy a few things down.

"don't try anything, the walls are literally made of glass," you said unbothered without taking your attention off of the work in front of you.

from beside you trent mocked an expression of hurt, offended that you'd accuse him of coming here just to do something. "I wasn't going to. I came here because I just happened to be walking by after our gym session," he answered, the lie dripping off his tongue effortlessly and you gave him a look.

you didn't respond, instead becoming immersed in your work once again. the marker in your hand moved between the spaces of your fingers, a pout forming on your lips as you concentrated.

don't get him wrong, trent found it extremely attractive that you were in your element— your hair messily tied up, the marker in your hand spinning between your fingers and the look of determination on your face made him crazy. but he was just a man after all and wanted to spend some time with his... free trial user.

with a sigh he sat down at the desk, spinning aimlessly on the chair to try and cure his boredom. he hated this— referring to the lack of privacy in the room because the blinds were open. suddenly, he perked up at the sound of your voice, but to his dismay, you weren't talking to him and were on the phone with someone he didn't care about.

"yes, I'd like to keep them neutral but you can have a selection and we can test them out on the day of the shoot," you said and hurried back to the whiteboard to write something down.

the sound of the marker squeaking on the board made trent cringe, that and he wished that you'd just sit down for one second. when the call ended, you felt the his eyes on you, a look of judgement perhaps? but what did he expect? you were at work and had to get things done.

"someone's cranky," you joked while flipping through a binder.

he threw his head back with a scoff. "well yeah, you're not even looking at me. you probably don't even care that I'm here right now."

really now? you rolled your eyes at his exaggeration, a smile dancing on your lips. "a lot needs to be done before the end of the month unfortunately and I'm kind of in charge of that." you scrunched your nose at the last part, the feeling of admitting that you were in charge sending a weird surge through your body.

tent pursed his lips, his look softening at the way you continued to flip through the binder, mumbling to yourself about not finding something. "I know but--"

"--there aren't any 'buts'." you put your hands on your hips, sending him a stern look to showcase your point. "you're supposed to be focusing on recovering. it's already an issue that you won't be playing sunday, we need you fit for the last few games of the season at least."

the room fell silent again, slight tension building up but you didn't care because it was the truth. it wasn't just him— it was curtis, darwin, mo and dominik as well. a few of their most crucial players were injured and unfortunately that make their chances of winning slimmer. and as excited as everyone was to play on sunday— the kids included even if they only got about five minutes of playtime, but this was still a final.

the coaching staff was agitated, virgil didn't know how if the chelsea squad were going to put up a fight and the injured players were beating themselves up. it wasn't an easy time for anyone right now, but they needed to focus. and right now, it seemed that trent wasn't getting the message.

it was unlike him, and you could see from the way that his leg anxiously bounced up and down that he knew that. so as much as you needed to reprimand him and remind him of what needed to be done, you could also tell that he wasn't okay.

with a sigh, you put down your things and went to lock the office door and close the blinds. the room was encapsulated in slight darkness again, prompting you to switch on the overhead lights that weren't needed earlier on.

trent remained quiet though, even when you came to sit down on the table in front of him. you looked down at him, the footballer leaning back in the chair.

"talk to me, what's bothering you?" your voice was laced with genuine worry and it made him ease into his seat further.

"nothing's wrong. I just wanted to see you but I guess it's a bad time." he plainly shrugged his shoulders, a look of mock dismissal on his face.

you quirked an eyebrow at his answer. "that's the worst lie you could've come up with right now." despite your targeted response you gently took his hand into yours and prompted him to speak. "is it because you're benched for the rest of the month?"

"yes and no," he said, looking up at you. "yes because I let the team down when they need all the help they can get. this is important to all of us and ever since my stupid knee happened I've been acting up."

he didn't need to mention it, but he was referring to the match against burnley where he was subbed off at halftime. you knew that it took a toll on his confidence, both on and off the pitch. there wasn't much you could do unfortunately besides comfort him.

"don't look at me like that," he groaned and leant forward to rest his head on your thigh, the embarrassment sinking in. "I sound so emotional, my ego is buried six feet under right now."

you stifled a laugh at his retort and let your hands run gently up and down his back. "it's okay. I'll ask harvey to pick it up for you, it's not a problem for him."

trent couldn't help but laugh, the feeling of his fingers trialing your thigh sent a shiver through your body. the two of you held that position for a bit longer, the feeling of being near each other enough to ease your respective anxiety.

"you're going to get better okay?" you said softly and he hummed in response. "whatever happens, happens but you need to do what you can. that's all that matters, so for now you're going to be the best bench warmer ever and support your team."

it was the day of the efl final and the team was ready— standing ready with their mascots at their sides in the tunnel that you were running through to make some last minute checks.

maya messaged earlier on in the day to say that they'd be at the match today and you couldn't wait to see them again after such a long time, especially alex who was apparently extremely excited to be here.

today more than ever you wore your liverpool jersey proudly only to be called out for wearing it by a familiar face. you just finished wishing the team goodluck when a chelsea player caught your attention in the line beside you.

you eyes rolled at the sound of the voice but you turned to look at him nonetheless, the smile on your lips slightly forced. "colwill."

levi put out his hand for you to take into a friendly handshake, a cheeky smile on his face as he looked you up and down. "It's always weird to see you in anything other than blue. you switching sides for the day?"

the backhanded comment was obviously a joke, it was natural for the two of you to have banter like this despite the fact that it had been years since you last talked to each other. from the line beside you, harvey was shamelessly watching the back and forth.

it made no sense to him that you always knew someone. in every situation and match of theirs, there was always someone that you knew.

you scrunched your nose at levi, not liking the idea of wearing a chelsea jersey. "we'll leave those blue days of mine at the academy thanks. good luck for today though, you're going to need it."

levi stifled a laugh at your goodbye and watched as you left the tunnel, old memories flooding back but never staying.

"academy?" harvey asked out loud, not meaning for levi to hear but he did and nodded. when he told harvey that you played for the chelsea academy before you left london it raised some intrigue amongst the reds on his side.

judging by their facial expressions he could tell that it wasn't something you liked to talk about. "she got called up a bunch of times for the first team but never took the offer. first time around she was 15."

there was no other reaction from harvey other than an irritated groan, his head shaking to the side as they started to make their way out of the tunnel. "she's lived 100 lives I'm telling you."

from behind him, andy hurriedly shushed him, the laugh barely staying inside because of the strange encounter. but harvey was right— it felt like you've lived 100 lives because there was a piece of you everywhere, a piece of you imprinted within the memory of so many people.

"the carter effect," harvey mumbled to himself with slight distaste as he stood in his position on the pitch waiting for the whistle to blow.

agonising. that's how you'd describe the first of the match. it was like a game of tennis— back and forth but the team was showing resilience against chelsea and their 10 man defence strategy. the man to man marking made you want to scream, because this was not the strategy of a team that knew that they were going to win.

"fucking cowards," you muttered under your breath and jayden danns— one of the kids who were newer to the first team bench, gave you a look.

feeling his judgemental gaze on your side you looked at him with widened eyes, gesturing to the pitch. "it's the truth. you can't play football like this, it's disgraceful."

from the seat beside you, bobby clark, another one of the children (as you liked to call them) spoke up and asked you about how long the chelsea squad could play defence. there wasn't a definite answer on your side as you sat with your hand on your chin in thought.

eventually, it had all the kids in thought, all five of the boys that you were looking after watching with determined eyes to see if there was a break in chelsea's defence.

"the only forward who they're expecting to score is palmer," james said and you scoffed, the rest of the bench chiming in to talk about cole palmer's recent performance and how it's been saving chelsea a ton.

spamjam._. added to their story!

amongst the chatter, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. the name that popped up on your notification center made you smile— trent who was sitting in the stands with the rest of the injured players.

the last few minutes of the first half played out in a way that had your blood boiling. conor who was starting in trent's position today was playing exceptionally well for his first official start for the team, but someone else saw that as a threat apparently.

one shove from ben chilwell on conor had you out of your seat in an instant. the two players managed to fall on top of each other because of conor's honest tackle, and ben chilwell saw it as a challenge for something more.

seconds away from half time and a fight was about to break out and naturally the liverpool players tried to stop it, with a few players feeling provoked (cody and harvey). luckily it was broken up before anyone got seriously hurt, but by then you were already on the touchline alongside jurgen waiting to jump in.

the half-time whistle blew and you watched with distaste as they walked into the tunnel. instead of going up to the press room like you normally would, you decided to take a quick trip into the stands where the injured players were. you were alone today, and for another 4 months because clara was officially on maternity leave.

she was nearly 5 months into her pregnancy, but you still couldn't get behind your stupidity and not noticing any sooner. the signs were blatantly obvious but you thought it was normal— the loose clothing, strange cravings and her mood swings were nothing out of the ordinary.

she was doing well though, and was staying with her parents for the time being or at least until the season was over so that she could go back home with mason. at least she had stability, that's what mattered most.

"nice of you to visit us," curtis sarcastically greeted as you stood on the outside of the barricade. "I see the boys are treating you well."

it was clear that he was mocking you so you flashed him a tight lip smile. what the kids were doing was asking you questions about anything that came to mind— why you decided to work in marketing? was it true that you and trent were dating? (which you denied obviously)? who would win in a fight, a shark or a tiger? and funny enough you recalled jobe asking you the same question a while ago.

"a shark or a tiger?" he asked with a challenging smile.

your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at jude next to you, who shared the same expression of confusion. "well where's the fight happening?" you asked jobe who made it clear that he didn't like the follow up question.

he pulled a face at you, "what do you mean where's the fight?"

his question left you and jude speechless, his older brother trying to prompt his understanding of the situation further but jobe was stubborn and didn't care about the logistics of the scenario.

"it depends on where the fight is," jude said and you nodded. "they live in different environments entirely so it matters."

jobe rolled his eyes at the question, almost as of it were ridiculous. his shoulders tensed up and he leant forward on the chair he was sitting on. "yeah, but who would win the fight, this isn't about the environment."

you stifled a laugh, in further disbelief. "jobe where is the fight? where is it happening?"

"that's not the point!"

you couldn't stay to chat long to trent's dismay. he couldn't even hold your hand and the look of despair on his face said it all. but you agreed on keeping it on the low, no physical contact in public because there were always cameras around.

you flashed him a smile and waved before heading back to the bench just in time. a sigh of exhaustion leaving your lips at the thought of another 45 minutes of back and forth.

it was around the 60' minute when something built up, having you on the edge of your seat and holding your hands together in prayer and desperation until the ball finally hit the back of the net. however your rejoice didn't last long because once again, the referee was checking for offside.

you stood with your hands in the air in shock, utter hatred for the decision alone. "that wasn't offside at all! what the fuck kind of decision is this?"

the rage and irritation in your tone only grew when the referee called it, your scream drowning out in the sea of groans from the supporters. if it wasn't for james then you probably would have gone up to the stewards yourself to complain.

this was nothing new for the team though, and it was evident in their unimpressed expressions as they got back into position again. you carried on complaining for quite a bit after that— if there was one thing that you hated, then it was cheaters and liars. there was no reason to call the goal offside.

not too far away in the stands trent had his attention on you, an amused smile dancing on his lips as you complained to the other players on the bench— exaggerating your movements and explaining further, your blood boiling.

curris noticed him watching and teasingly nudged his arm. "talk about passionate."

he was right, your passion for the sport was never something you tried to minimise or hold back and that was something that trent found extremely attractive. you were always standing along the touchline with your hands on your head in distraught or leaping from your seat when they scored.

this was a first for trent— his past girlfriends who attended his games usually sat in the family booth and watched from afar, possibility not knowing what was actually happening on the pitch. but the idea of having you so close to him on the once place that he felt the most at home made his heart race.

close, both literally and figuratively— you'd be on the touchline, at most of his games because it was your job but also because you shared the passion for the sport and that meant more than anything to him. the fact that he could share what made him whole, with his partner.

"saffie's at home watching peacefully," curtis then shook his head as he watched you talk to conor who was subbed off, probably complaining again. "and this beast is picking a fight with the stewards."

trent stifled a laugh at his retort, stopping himself to try and listen in on what you were telling conor who was nodding along.

"exactly! I would have thrown him to the floor, conor. you're weak my boy." you pat him on the shoulder reassuringly, causing curtis to throw his head back in laughter.

20 minutes and two yellow cards later, the score was still tied at 0-0. the thought of the match falling into added time made you nauseous, because at the rate anything could happen. with a hand on your forehead you sunk further into your seat, all hope lost as the kids put on their jerseys.

"save us. please." your voice was meek and desperate causing the three of them to laugh, watching as the sub board went up. "I believe in you!"

when the final whistle blew for a short break before the added extra time you got up from your seat and paced up and down to loosen the tension in your legs. jurgen was huddled with the team, strategizing but you weren't too sure what he could possible be telling them.

personally you would have told them to break the chelsea players' legs. or at least try and play a bit rougher but there was nothing you could do except sit and watch. the kids were doing well luckily, and you did a headcount oh how many of them were on the pitch.

4. there were 4 first team players on that pitch and the rest were the club's academy kids going up against a full cheslea squad in a cup final. it was jaw dropping to witness this in person.

when jurgen came over for some water you asked him what the strategy was, to which he just shrugged with a smile. "I told them to have fun. just kick the ball until it hits the back of the net."

you blinked up at him for a moment, the answer a surprise to you but it made sense. there was nothing better that could have been done, so instead you started to pray and manifest, begging the universe for a goal or at least an opportunity.

with your lips pursed you looked up to the timer above the pitch, the big 116 mocking the players on the pitch. there was 4 minutes left and chelsea's management decided that it was a good time to make a substitution. obviously it was to waste time, but even then it was a stupid idea.

the players on the pitch were out of breath, virgil had swear dripping down his forehead and a look of complete exhaustion hiding behind his blank stare. what a way to make people suffer.

it wad the last corner of the match probably and tsimikas was up to take it. naturally you got up again seeing as this was probably going to penalties which you were confident enough in.

with hopeless eyes your eyes followed the ball as it crossed into the penalty area where the players were showing each other, trying to make way for a header. the stadium held it's breath, everyone's hope deep in the dirt until virgil managed to get a touch on the ball just enough that it successfully hit the back of the net.

it happened so quickly but the adrenaline eventually kicked in and you were being pulled into a hug from jurgen. on the other end of the pitch, virgil was sprawled on the floor, the boys surrounding him and laying beside him. it was all over once the final whistle blew seconds later and you heard the bustling noise from behind you.

darwin came running down the steps, pushing curtis to the side as he leapt over the barricade and onto the pitch in excitement with the staff. it was all too much, the overwhelming feelings of anxiety and excitement whirling inside of you.

you were left speechless, nothing more to say than. "how the fuck?"

the celebration was nothing short of heartwarming, but the feeling of watching the chelsea players leaving the stadium without saying a word was a better feeling.

"maybe you should actually try and score next time," you said with a teasing smile directed at levi who was heading towards you up the stairs with the rest of his team. "instead of standing as if you were the great wall of china."

all he did was shake his head and gave you a friendly pat on the shoulder as be walked past, before quickly turning back. "I still think you look better in blue though."

you stifled a laugh, not bothering to answer and instead made your way to the pitch where the banner was set up to take a few pictures before they came down to sing the anthem with their proudly adorned medals and trophy.

while they did all that you made a quick run up to stands, eagerly minding your way until maya, noah and alex were in the clear. the excitement on alex's face was enough for you, a proud feeling of warmth spreading through your chest.

"how was it buddy? did you have fun?" you asked and pulled him into a tight hug.

the younger boy nodded happily, going on about how scared he was and how he really wanted ice cream during the match because it was "super intense". when the time came you bid them goodbye and headed back down to take some pictures.

a fond smile formed on your face at the sight of the academy players, the group immediately making their way over to you with their medals and bombarding you with excited comments.

"I can't believe I nearly scored twice," jayden said with widened eyes, still in disbelief as he held up two fingers. "that's more than once and I just got here."

"which means that you better score soon, the season is nearly over." you lightly punched his arm, the group of academy players following you through the crowd of staff on the pitch.

once again james forced a sarcastic laugh, looking to jayden with his eyes narrowed. "well I just got here too and got booked 3 minutes in. I literally breathed."

not long after that, the photographers called all the academy players together for a group photograph and you took a step back and watched. but your attention was promptly caught by trent leisurely strolling beside dominik and mo.

with a smile you waved him over and suggested that he joined the picture since he was an academy graduate as well. he wasn't too sure at first but he eventually cut in.

after a few pictures your eyes squinted. "what's he doing here?" your question was directed at harvey who was seated on the floor, his face melted in irration as you spoke to him.

"I could ask you the same thing," he shot back and you nearly responded but the group dispersed, everyone going their own way as the celebration wrapped up.

naturally, you joined trent in his little stroll but made sure there was enough space between the two of you so no suspicion would be raised.

even though you were talking normally for the most part, it physically pained him that he couldn't even hold your hand. he gap between your bodies made him cringe, and what made it worse was that this was the first time that he's ever felt this needy or desperate to be close to someone.

but as you were talking to him now, the stadium still full of supporters while you stood in the middle of it all, he felt the desperation panging at his chest.

"bro are you seriously zoning out again?" you asked with a sigh. "this is the fourth time today-- and yes I'm counting."

"well sorry." he lifted his hands into the air in defence. "It's not my fault that my heart is in actual pain because I have to treat you like a normal friend in public."

your eyes rolled at his exaggeration, his dramatics being nothing new especially about this topic. "we aren't officially together yet so we can't do anything about it. calm down, loverboy."

normally this would be the part where he'd kiss you so that you'd shut up but trent had to bite his tongue today, and instead just nodded. it was the harsh truth unfortunately and as much as he loved private relationships, he wanted to show you off. he wanted the world to know that you were his.

but for the first time in a while he'd have to be patient.

spamjam._.

liked by judebellingham and 3 223 122 others

spamjam._. my kids dawg!! 🏆❤️ (and those other grandpa's too)

view all comments below

liverpoolfc red suites you so much more 🫶 [liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. say it louder for the people in the back 👏 @levicolwill

user ??? oh the dramaaaa

user 120 minutes of torture that I refuse to relive

bobbyclark can't believe that I made it onto the profile 😫

→ spamjam._. watch me crop you out.

→ jayden.danns @bobbyclark I'm the one who got the photocreds on her story 🥱 lower your tone in my presence

→ jamesmconnel and I got booked for breathing 😒

→ spamjam._. james that was a clear tackle?? you got booked for a reason 😭

→ jamesmcconnell yeah for breathing!!

virgilvandijk you should've gotten a medal for being the best cheerleader today 🥇[liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. aahhh!! I'm so glad my efforts were noticed

→ curtisjr you were screaming at the refs and nearly barged into the stewards room 🤨

→ spamjam._. which is more than you did today benchboy

mosalah grandpas? 😔

→ spamjam._. your leg is broken, so yes. grandpa's 😔

[next!!] [previous!!]

[acaciusbride]

Pre Game ( DBF / BFD Joel Miller x Reader )

Summary: Joel is your dad’s best friend, and your friend’s dad to boot. Wanting him is a bad idea, but it’s not like he feels the same… right?

CWs: age gap / references to cheating / semi protected sex / threats of spanking / language / dirty talk

Tag List: @joelsgirl @pr0ximamidnight @dreamingofdaddydin @funnygirlthatgab @schizoel @bearsbeetsbeskar @loquaciousferret @pedritosdarling @chaotic-mystery

(I’m sure I’ve missed someone I’m sorry 😂)

Notes: finally, that DBF fic.

Buy Me A Coffee?

You’re really starting to feel bad about how much you’re paying attention to him. Maybe it wouldn’t be so guilt inducing if it was a new thing, something you could brush off as fleeting interest, but the fact of the matter is you’ve had your eye on him for literally the better part of two years now.

You’ve always noticed him; how can you not? He’s your dad’s best friend. They work together, then every other week he’s at your house to watch the game. Before, you were aware of him.

But ever since you moved back home after your college relationship went bust? You can’t take your eyes off him. What’s worse is you’re relatively close friends with his own daughter, Sarah.

You’re a couple years older than her, but close enough in age that you get along well. Well enough that you’d hang out together, text each other over the years, trust each other with secrets and girls nights and the bullshit that comes with being a young woman in this day and age. Wanting her dad just feels like a betrayal, but you can’t help it.

Besides, it’s not like he wants you back. Right?

Your dad won’t be home for several hours yet; he got called out to an urgent maintenance job, something about a blown circuit board causing a whole block to have spotty power. Considering there’s some important game on today, it’s not ideal.

You guess he must be too busy to have had time to message Joel to let him know, or more likely, forgot. Not that it matters - there have been a couple times when he’s shown up early.

It’s almost embarrassing that you know the sound of Joel’s truck as it pulls up outside the house. Even more embarrassing the way your heart starts racing as you get up off the couch to let him in. You open the door just as he goes to knock on it, leaving him standing there with his hand half raised, lazy half smile on his face.

“Chief not in?” His nickname for your dad has always amused you, the sarcastic banter born from the year your dad was his boss. It was weird for them to go from equals, two blue collar single dads, to your dad bossing him round.

That worksite didn’t last too long, and they were back to their regular buddy shenanigans before long.

“Nah, some emergency power restoration. He should be back before the game starts.”

You step to the side to let him in; no point leaving him outside, or him driving across town to get home only to come back.

Joel smirks.

“Should’ve done what I did.” He pulls his phone from the pocket of his jeans, where the do not disturb sign is showing on his lock screen.

“He works too hard.” You agree, heading back through the living room, trusting Joel to close the front door behind him.

You’ve been alone with him before, just a few times, but not since you moved back home. He looks a little different. Older. He’s got silver streaks mingled in with dark curls, a little softer round the middle. But it doesn’t take away from his looks. If anything, it enhances them.

“Always has. Now what about you, huh? Last I heard you were finishing your fancy degree, had shit all planned out.”

You shrug. Your dad had never gone to college; had busted his ass your entire life so that you could. You’d enjoyed your studies, had had some good friendships and relationships there.

Then your college boyfriend with his stupid law degree had cheated on you with the secretary his new firm had hired. You hadn’t been remotely interested in trying to ‘fix things’, instead throwing your mostly unpacked shit into boxes and hauling ass back home.

You had your degrees, you could find work at home. Never mind your wounded pride and inability to trust men your age ever again.

“Sometimes stuff doesn’t go according to plan.” You say finally. “I’m getting a drink. Want anything?”

Joel doesn’t answer you, just follows you into the kitchen. You’re barely aware he’s there until you feel the heat of his body behind yours as he leans over you into the open refrigerator, snags a beer while you’re still deciding.

A jolt of electricity runs through your body at the slight contact, immediately followed by guilt. Never mind that he’s your dad’s best friend, he’s your own friend’s dad.

How could you ever face Sarah if you acted on your want for him?

You grab a premixed vodka drink, pop the cap off and toss it into the bowl on the bench, taking a sip.

The drinks aren’t your choice; your dad buys them on occasion, because as he likes to remind you, there’s no such thing as a ‘girly drink’. It’s funny, but being raised that way gave you the confidence not to give a shit about ordering a beer in a bar, the same way you’ll never be apologetic about drinking a pastel pink vodka premix that tastes like guava and sugar.

Turning, you find Joel leaning against the other bench. Watching you.

“Make yourself at home.”

It comes out far more sarcastic than you intended; immediately, you feel bad. It’s not his fault you’re trying to cope with a raging crush on him. Not his fault that he’s stupidly handsome even in jeans and a button down shirt.

Honestly you doubt he even knows how attractive he is. Somehow that makes it worse.

“Got a mouth on you today, don’t you?” Joel says almost breezily, clearly unbothered by your attitude. “You always this bratty, or is that something you learned at college?”

You can feel your cheeks heating at the implication.

“No college boy could teach me that.”

The words are out before you can stop them. Your slight blush becomes full fledged heat when you realise what you’ve said, how easily you flirt with him.

“Guess not.” Joel takes a long sip of his beer, watches you for a second, as though trying to assess something in his head.

“Guarantee no boy is gonna give you what you deserve, anyway.”

Even though you’ve just taken a drink, your mouth becomes impossibly dry.

“What I deserve?” You put the bottle down before you drop the damn thing.

Joel’s expression doesn’t change as he drains his beer, sets the empty bottle on the bench behind him.

“See, if you were mine, I’d put you over my knee and slap your ass raw for being such a brat.” He says it so damn casually, like he’s talking about the weather.

You open your mouth to speak, then close it again. Then open it.

“What’s stopping you?”

Now, his expression does change. A smirk crossing his features. You half expect him to say something about his age, about your dad being his buddy, or about you being his daughter’s friend.

It’s none of the above.

“You’d enjoy it too much.” He crosses the small space between you, thumb tracing the outline of your mouth. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you looking.”

Your lips part, sucking the tip of his thumb into your mouth, eyes wide and staring into his own dark gaze. Something flickers there, maybe what remains of his willpower being snuffed out.

He lets you suck on his thumb for a moment before he pulls it out of your mouth, fingers closing on your chin and forcing you to look at him.

Your tongue darts out and licks your lower lip, unable to take your eyes off him, off the blatant lust in his gaze. You’re almost afraid that if you look away, it’ll break the spell, that he’ll come to his senses, or that you will.

You don’t want to.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you?” He sounds so amused, but not in an unkind way.

“I bet the thought of me bending you over and spanking you has you soaked.”

For a moment, you consider denying it. The small part of you that’s still sensible says you should. But you can’t. You just can’t.

“Why don’t you find out?” You suggest, wishing you were wearing something a bit more attractive than shorts and a shirt. At least your underwear matches.

For a moment you think he might refuse; are afraid he will refuse. That fear passes the moment his free hand slides down into your shorts, thumb brushing against your clit almost lazily.

You have to fight not to lean into his touch. Fight and fail miserably as that big, rough hand cups you, fingers caressing across sensitive skin.

“Knew it.”

Joel has no right to be this damn smug, and yet he is anyway, beyond amused at how wet you are, just from his words.

You half glare at him, mostly because you’re irritated by how right he is, but also because it frustrates you just how much you need him.

“Don’t start being a brat again…” he warns you. “Keep being good for me and I’ll reward you…”

You can’t help but melt just a little at those words, wondering what he could possibly mean. Well. You have a few ideas, but still, you think his ideas are probably going to be better.

“How?”

He just stares at you, makes eye contact as he slides two thick fingers inside you, silently answering your question and challenge.

Your knees almost buckle, but you force yourself to keep standing, reaching behind you to hold onto the bench top to steady yourself.

You’ve spent a considerable amount of time thinking about this; about his fingers inside you. About more than just his fingers. But hell if this isn’t a good start. If this is all you get, you’ll be satisfied. Needy and wishing for more, yes, but you wouldn’t push it.

Luckily for you, he’s just as needy, pushing those fingers deep into you, curling them, watching the way your eyes drop closed. Like he hasn’t thought about this a great deal, when in reality it’s all he thinks about.

“See? Told you if you were good for me, it’d pay off…”

You smirk at him, wanting to be a smartass and tell him he never said that, but you need him too much to risk it. He’s trained you well, without even trying.

“If I’m even better, will you give me more?”

Your eyes drop to the visible bulge in his jeans, leaving absolutely no room to question what you mean. The sound he makes is somewhere between a growl and a groan, understanding what you want and more than willing to give it to you.

“‘M not gonna fuck you in the kitchen, baby.”

The amount of restraint it takes for him to say that is clear in his expression. Honestly, he’d love nothing more than to yank those tiny shorts down, hoist you up onto the bench and fuck you senseless, but the kitchen isn’t the right place.

He has enough restraint to want to do this properly, enough respect for you to be hesitant, even though it’s difficult.

Quite frankly you wouldn’t have cared if he’d bent you over the closest surface, but it’s the little want to be a gentleman that gets you. Even if he does still have his fingers buried knuckle deep inside you.

“What about if I ask nicely?” You look at him through half closed eyes, expression innocent.

“Still not gonna happen in the kitchen.”

You smirk; that’s fair enough. Luckily there are far more available rooms you can utilise, and you both know it. Still, it’s with a definite sense of reluctance that he removes his fingers from you, brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean, leaving you once again weak in the knees.

“Joel…”

He loves the way his name sounds in your mouth, knows it’ll sound even better when you’re screaming it.

“Cmon, baby, gonna show me somewhere we can go that’s a bit more private?”

You try not to look too eager as you grab his hand, drag him out of the kitchen down the hallway to the guest room that’s now yours. Your old room upstairs was boxed up years ago, and your dad has since turned it into a gaming room for his war game miniatures and old books.

Easier for you to take the guest room, make it your own space. That and it would have felt weird, taking Joel into your childhood room.

Kicking the door shut behind you, you turn, expecting… you’re not sure what, but Joel pushes you up against the door almost right away, leaning down to you, his body hot against yours.

You have plenty of time before you have to worry about being interrupted, but still, there’s a sense of urgency in the way you pull him down to you, crush your mouth to his.

In the moment you don’t care that it’s wrong, that he’s so much older than you. All that matters is him, and getting him as close to you as possible, because god knows you’ve waited long enough for this.

He moves his arms away from you just long enough to yank your shorts down, pull your shirt over your head, toss them both aside carelessly. You let him before you push him back, until the back of his legs hit your bed.

Joel lets you, lets you push him back and straddle his lap, leaning down to kiss him as you shed your lace bra, leaving you bare to his gaze as you grind yourself against the significant bulge in his jeans.

“Fuck, baby, you gonna take charge all the time?”

It’s clear from his tone that he doesn’t care, not in the damn slightest, as your hands find his belt, work the zip of his jeans down.

You don’t answer him, just kiss him again, hard and desperate as your hand wraps around his cock, frees him from his pants and strokes him eagerly.

The sound he makes is goddamn sinful as you drag your soaked core along his length, coating him with your wetness. You want to take your time, but you know your dad could be back any minute, and you’re too needy and desperate to take your time.

Luckily, he seems to feel the same way.

“You gonna ride this cock, baby? Gonna take it like a good girl?”

That’s absolutely your intention; you lift yourself up, position yourself over the tip of him, then slide down onto his length, every inch of him sinking into you slowly.

His hands settle on your hips, guiding you down, keeping you there for a moment, fingers tightening on your waist.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” he breathes it out slowly, watches you toss your hair over your shoulder, smirk down at him as you start to move, drawing another delicious groan from his lips.

You don’t answer, focus entirely on riding him, lifting yourself up and dropping back down, one hand rubbing at your clit as you move.

“Such a pretty girl, so fuckin’ good for me…”

You whimper, and maybe that’s what finally snaps him, because his hands tighten on your waist and he starts to move, no longer letting you do all the work, hips snapping up against yours, hard and fast, precisely how you’ve always imagined he would fuck you.

“Dirty little thing aren’t you? All this time you’ve been wanting me…” he almost growls it, breath hitched as he ruts up into you, pupils blown wide with lust as he watches you.

“Joel…”

You’re so close you can feel it, every nerve in your body alight as you tighten around him.

“Go on, sweetheart. Cum on my cock, I know you want to. Can feel this tight little pussy, so needy for me…”

It’s his filthy words, the feeling of him inside you, your hand on your clit, the combination of all of it, that sends you over, has you shaking on top of him, held up by his big strong hands as you find your release.

He can see the scar on your arm where your implant was put in, sees you looking and the way you bite your lip, and that’s enough for him, bucking up into you until he can’t hold out any longer, cursing and moaning as he fills you, you grinding down against him the entire damn time.

“Fuck…” he groans it as you lean down to kiss his cheek.

“Worth the wait.” You tease as you climb off of him with shaking legs, pick up your clothes and start re dressing yourself.

“Absolutely.” He zips up his jeans, sits up lazily, watches you pull those ridiculously tiny shorts back on.

You grin, feeling his eyes on you.

“Come on. Let’s go have another drink and pretend to be completely innocent before my dad gets back.”

Joel groans. You’re going to be the absolute death of him.

[shinayashipper]

Puzzleship role-reversal AU following Egyptian boy Atem who transfered schools to Japan because of his father's job. As a son of a busy, high political figure, Atem constantly changes schools and have very little friends aside from Mahad and Mana who are the children of his father's close colleagues. (The other kids also got scared of him because his father is a powerful figure / only attempting to befriend him to gain benefits).

Atem grew up with strict lessons and pressure. Always have to be the best in everything. He always tried to maintain an aloof, cool-headed, always reliable leader persona, but in truth he's very shy and anxious. His only comfort was playing games, but it's very lonely to play alone (and he's not so fond of online games) (Mahad and Mana play with him but Mahad is older and doesn't have time to play childish games with him and Mana has other interests)

Atem had changed schools a lot, but it's the first time he moved overseas. He didn't know anyone in Japan and only spoke the language a limited amount (even tho his lessons back in Egypt always drilled the language into his brain but with no one to talk to it's pretty hard).

He instantly became The Talk at Domino High as "The cute/cool foreign transfer student from Egypt" and he didn't really like the attention. He became closed-off and only interact with his classmates a minimal amount, even tho he had always wanted to make more friends. (Now people thought he got a Mean Look, because of the frown 😂). Anzu was the first person who greeted him in good-faith because she purely wanted to get to know him and make him feel accepted in class (but he always brushed her off too). Jou and Honda are still part of The Delinquents(TM) and Jou just hated Atem's guts because he thought Atem is "snobby little Rich Kid". Kaiba is still Kaiba and he just Doesn't Care much.

One day, Atem got some free time and decided to visit a nearby game store: Kame Game. It's kind-of old and there's more board games and puzzle games instead of the ever-popular digital ones. But this is how Atem loves his games. (And there's always a weekly little tournament where kids can play Card Games against each other. Very Fun!).

When he came in, the store was empty and dark, but the store still has the "Open" sign at the door so Atem just kept going. There sits an open wooden box with silver carvings on one of the small table where kids play. Atem was intrigued to get closer and he saw some... wooden blocks. Maybe a Puzzle? Atem loves solving puzzles. Because this is just left alone on the play table, it means he can try it right? So he tried Solving it...

And as if the Puzzle itself was calling and urging him to Solve it... he's assembling it very smoothly. He can finally see that it's forming some kind of pendant, just a few more blocks but Grandpa Sugoroku suddenly appears and surprised him 😂 Gramps saw him with the Puzzle/Pendant and you know I really like the idea of him Knowing More than he lets on, he told Atem that this Puzzle was an artifact from The Gods' Time and whoever solved it will get a Wish come true. He urged Atem to take it home and solve it in peace. It might help you in some way, he told him.

So Atem brought The Puzzle home, thinking how that grampa was kind of Weird, but he's also intrigued with the Puzzle- so he's going to solve it. And a wish coming true doesn't sound bad at all...

Atem had solved it Perfectly, and it was a pendant. But nothing happens. Ha! What wish... Atem thought it's probably just Sugoroku's attempt to make him come back to the store and buy something. Atem was kind of Sad tho. But nevermind that, he got a new pendant now, so he wear it immediately and went to sleep. (Having strange Dreams about Storms and a boy with white robes and wearing The Pendant Facing Them... but he's not going to dwell with it- he must be Tired)

[peachjagiya]

Did Tae and Wooga really leave Jk in the ski resort? And JK was left to learn how to snowboard in 3 days?

No.

The spotify subs were simplified but youtube captions transcript feature clarifies what happened a little.

Obviously context important and we shouldn't be so Western as to think digital translators know this better than actual Korean speakers.

So for clarity, this is according to DeepL then cross checked with Papago and Google Translate.

Here's the transcript if you want to do your own clicking:

보드를 타러 갔는데 저는 이제 너무 재밌어 가지고 하룻밤 자고 내일아침까지 타고 가야 되겠다 막이 생각을 하고 있었어요 그 다 같이 그럴 줄 알고 있었고 근데 이제 전부 다 타고 들어오더니 다 막 아파 가지고 삭신이 있으시다고 해가지고 숙소에 퍼질러 있는 상태 그때 딱 디토가 나왔더라고요 그래서 딱 디토를 듣는데 이게 너무 좋은 거예요 그그스��장이 약간 막 가슴이 먹먹해지고근데 그 상황에서 갑자기 이셋이 간데셋은 가고 저는 이제 혼자 남아가지고이 노래만 진짜 한 30번 들었을 거예요 밖에 보면 새게 그 약간 그런 추억이 있어 갖고 되게좋아하는

DeepL translates it as:

I went to ride my board and I was just thinking, I'm having so much fun I'm going to take it with me and stay the night and ride it till tomorrow morning and I thought they were all going to do it together Then they're all coming in and they're all sick (also suggests sore as a translation) and they're all spread out all over the place and the sun's going down and they're all in the lodge and that's when Ditto came on. Ditto came on, so I was just listening to Ditto and it's so good, and the ski resort was getting a little bit heartbreaking, and then all of a sudden they go and I'm left alone, and I must have listened to this song like 30 times, and when I look out there, it's like, ‘Oh, my God." I have a little bit of that memory and it's a favourite

Ok. So bearing in mind this is a favourite memory and JK recounts it with a laugh, here's what I'm taking from it:

❄ They're all at the lodge - JK says this. Sidenote: Seojoon posted photos in another country at this point so I think it might have been just Hyungsik and possibly Wooshik as he posted a snowy lodgy looking picture at the end of December.

❄ They have accommodation away from the lodge as Jimin and JK did - JK specifies he wants to stay overnight to snowboard early in the morning but after three days, surely they've already been staying overnight. This sounds like a new plan to stay closer to the slopes.

❄ They're all getting tired/sore/sick and are sprawled around the lodge. - JK says that.

❄ Ditto came on so this was after it's release on the 19th, placing it three days after the shoe picture that appeared online. That's the three days. - JK's words, Ditto release date.

❄ The mood was getting melancholy and JK is playing the song on repeat - JK's words.

❄ Tae and friends go while JK is listening to the song, JK confirms.

❄ My conjecture, supposition, speculation: The more I think about him laughing that he listened to it so many times, the more I wonder if they just went to go sit in the car like a prank? I can very genuinely imagine Tae doing that. Obviously I don't know him but it doesn't seem out of character to be like "Come on, lets see how long it takes him to notice."

❄ JK notices they've gone (in Spotify subs, it says they've gone home but I think this is hyperbole) and is like "oh my god", he says. I'm speculating he just catches up to them like "WTF, you bastards." Think of Tae calling JK a motherfucker after he hangs up on him. Doesn't it feel like it could have been something similar? Hey, you're imagining it now, aren't you? Doesn't feel that sinister, does it? 😂

If they did go "home", I suspect it means accommodation, not hightailing it to Seoul.

But I do want to just point out that I don't think it makes Tae a bad person if they did leave him there and go back to Seoul. JK, a fully grown man, made a choice to change the plan so he could snowboard more and maybe everyone else was tired or had schedules. I mean they're very famous and busy.

So again. No. I don't think Tae left him there for three days. The dates suggest they were together - Tae, JK and Tae's friends - for three days and this happened at the end. But it's a happy memory for JK.

[lookingfts]

Out of curiosity, but also just as someone who wants to start writing, what word processor do you use? Google Docs, Word, or…? How do you plan fics out (if you do)? Do you write chapters out in the same doc or do you have different files for each? I guess I’m just curious about your process if you don’t mind sharing the logistical bits.

Side note: I feel so awkward writing smut and I get paranoid if I try to write it on Google Docs in the small chance of me being hacked LOL so kudos to you and your steamy sensibilities. I wish I could get to that level of comfortability 😂 perhaps someday…

Lol well I've been writing smut for eight years so whatever shame or self-consciousness I had is pretty much gone. It definitely took time to get there! I'm happy that you want to start writing, and always willing to answer questions about my process.

I use Word. It's just what I've always used for work so I have a familiarity with it and Google Docs doesn't feel quite the same to me. But I do pay for Word every year, so if you're looking for something free just to start out, Google Docs is a good option. I wouldn't say there are any special features that make them different - it's honestly just that I'm used to Word.

I have different files for each chapter because I write chapter by chapter and post as I go. I also have a single Google Doc for each story where I keep notes, dialogue snippets, etc. Sometimes I have a full outline for the fic there. It's my catchall for anything related to that story, and I can open it on my phone or my laptop and quickly jot down ideas.

How do I plan out fics...hmm. I don't think any of my stories totally take the same path. For a one-shot, it's usually just: I have an idea and I sit down and let it flow. I just follow it wherever it goes. Sometimes it's a contained story, sometimes there's space for it to be continued and so I'll continue it if I have ideas for more.

For multi-chaps, I typically have them planned out more. I have the idea, and I often chat with a friend to toss plot points around - I get so many excellent suggestions that way. I'll write down all my notes into a Google doc and then start organizing by chapter. It's okay if I don't have every detail planned out - as long as I have a general idea of what I want in each chapter, I'll go for it. I always have ideas as the story progresses, and it often goes somewhere different than I originally planned. The story fleshes out as I go. Of course, some people like to finish writing the complete fic before they post, and more power to them! I'm not that patient haha.

Hope that helps! I'm always down to answer writing questions. I think if you submit an ask under your name, I can also answer your question privately (ie not posting it) so I'm happy to do that as well for anyone who would like it. And I'm open to talk about plots if anyone ever wants a sounding board.

Good luck!

[scrumptiouskoalahottub]

☁️Surprise | Arthur Hill fluff

[Arthur is scheduled to appear on BBC radio 1 to premiere his new single, whilst he's out you gather a few of his friends and arrange a surprise party for him, to show how proud you all are]

It's 8am and Arthur's alarm rings, you both grumble at the sound but you both make moves to scooch over and give eachother a cuddle before Arthur gets ready for his interview. "I'm so proud of you Artie" you say smiling into his chest as he plants a kiss on your head. "Thankyou baby, I have you to thank for pushing me and supporting me constantly" he says back softly. "It's all deserved baby, you deserve everything this world has to offer" you hold him tighter as he rests his head onto yours. "I don't want to but I have to start getting ready, as much as I'm enjoying this" Arthur says brushing a hair behind your ear, you look up at him with a pouty face as you sit up from his chest "go smash it" you smile at him beaming with pride for your boyfriend.

Arthur gives you one last kiss before he makes his way to his interview, you wave him goodbye as he leaves. The times now 9:30am and you open the group chat you created with the other boys, to plan the surprise. Arthur is due home at 1pm.

You: "hey guys can you come round for 10:30?"

Clarkey: "yeah, do you need anything else grabbing?"

Chris: "yeah 10:30 is good"

You: "no george I just need you two to help me blow all these balloons up😂"

Chris: "like your gob isn't big enough"

You: "you are the size of the balloon pump I bought be quiet Christopher"

Clarkey: "okay, be there at 10:30"

You shuffle out of bed and throw on some comfy clothes and get all the things you hid in the spare room to prepare for for Arthur surprise. The boys arrive and you hand them a packet of balloons each, you opted for red balloons to match in accordance to Arthur's new single cover. You begin to blow up the balloons, tying string to the end of each one so the float along the ceiling. You also got "congratulation" balloons to weigh to the floor. "I hope he appreciates this, my jaw is killing" George laughs, "I'm sure he will, stop whining now you now how is girls feel when our jaw hurts" you say bonking him on the head with a balloon. The balloons are now competed and it's 12pm, you have an hour before Arthur returns home. You quickly make up a charcuterie board with the stuff you had in the fridge and made small snacks whilst the boys were here. Placing them on the kitchen island

12:30pm "are you still home? I'm 10 minutes away 💕" Arthur texts you, "shit he's ten minutes away" you all scramble to put the balloons into place and set up the cameras to catch it from a few angles. You all then stand infront of the balloons all in clutch with a confetti cannon. The door clicks open and Arthur walks through the door, you pop the cannons and all shout "surprise" in unison.

Arthur's mouth drops as you walk over to him "congratulations baby, we're so unbelievably proud of you" you say giving him the tightest hug. "I can't believe you've planned this for me, with the boys too" tears form in his eyes as the boys walk over to give him a hug themselves. You stand back and look at them all, smiling in awe for the love they have for eachother. Not only are you busting with pride for your boy, but his best friends are too, your eyes well up as a tear rolls down your face. "Come here you big softie" Chris holds out his hand for you to join the group hug, you slot yourself in and immediately start crying. "What are you crying for silly" Arthur says wiping the tear from your face. "I'm just so proud of you, it fills me with so much happiness to see you succeed and for everyone around us to see it too" you say sniffling, Arthur plants a kiss on your forehead as you all break away from the hug and sit down on the sofa so Arthur can tell you all about it.

-

🫶🏻

[soopersara]

For reasons that have everything and nothing to do with the most recent chapters of I&S, I've been thinking a lot about a time travel AU that I will absolutely never write.

Specifically, I want a time travel AU where little-kid!Zuko (age 9-10) travels forward in time and meets angry-teen!Zuko (we're talking like... the Book 1 egghead version of angry-teen!Zuko here). I know that sounds like a disaster waiting to happen, but the way I envision this playing out is:

Teen!Zuko and kid!Zuko meet, and after a healthy amount of confusion, figure out that they're two different versions of the same person. Kid!Zuko is... not thrilled to be stuck on a rickety old ship with a much grumpier version of himself, but hey! Uncle Iroh is here, and he's got lots of board games and even more free time, so it could be worse. Teen!Zuko, meanwhile, is having a bit of a crisis as he gets slapped in the face with several realizations all at once.

Realization #1: A warship is not a good place for a 9-10 year old boy to live, but there's literally nowhere else in the world where kid!Zuko will be safe. For as long as kid!Zuko is stuck in this timeline, teen!Zuko has to look after him.

Realization #2: Oh, shit. No one has seriously fucked up kid!Zuko yet. His life obviously hasn't been perfect, but this is pretty much the peak of kid!Zuko's sweet-and-innocent phase.

Realization #3: ... as fucked up as teen!Zuko's life has been, he desperately doesn't want to be the person who fucks up kid!Zuko's life.

Cue teen!Zuko scrambling to get his shit together so that he can be a reasonably healthy and stable guardian/big brother figure for his younger self. He starts working on his temper and trying to take Iroh's advice more seriously, and while things don't always go smoothly (kid!Zuko definitely picks up some vigilante tendencies from teen!Zuko. There may or may not be sightings of a tiny Blue Spirit causing trouble up and down the Earth Kingdom coast), teen!Zuko eventually figures out what he's doing. He puts in the work to become a decent role model, he deals with some of his own shit (and his outlook on life improves), he grows to see kid!Zuko as the little brother he never had, and he generally doesn't fuck anything up too badly.

Basically, looking after kid!Zuko teaches teen!Zuko self love (but with extra steps! I don't think grumpy-teen!Zuko could ever learn anything the simple way 😂)

All of that growth makes it harder and harder for teen!Zuko to ever envision himself returning to the Fire Nation. After all, if he wouldn't put his younger self through the pain of going back there and dealing with Ozai, why should he put his present self through that? And on a related note, kid!Zuko definitely has questions about teen!Zuko's scar and banishment. When teen!Zuko reaches a point where he's able to think about the Agni Kai, he can't imagine anything that kid!Zuko could ever do to deserve that kind of treatment, which leads teen!Zuko to question whether he deserved it. And as teen!Zuko starts to come to grips with the fact that he's probably never going back home - certainly not if it would mean putting kid!Zuko through the same pain that teen!Zuko experienced there - he has to start considering what other options he has for the future.

Kid!Zuko may or may not accelerate teen!Zuko's redemption arc even more by befriending various members of the Gaang and dragging his 'big brother' along to meet his new friends/disappearing for a few hours with his new friends only to be 'rescued' by teen!Zuko who is... very surprised and very awkward about it when he realizes who kid!Zuko is hanging out with.

There are obviously lots of time travel AUs out there already, but apparently this one is just going to live in my brain for the forseeable future 😂 As much as I love the standard "post-redemption!Zuko meets Book 1 Zuko and mentors his younger self to accelerate his own redemption/drags himself kicking and screaming toward redemption" time travel AUs that I see around the fandom, I think I'm just hungry for a time travel AU where pre-redemption!Zuko doesn't know what his future could look like. To me, there's just something really appealing about the idea of a time travel AU where his redemption gets accelerated not because he knows his life will get better if he becomes a better person, but because he wants to be someone who his younger self can be proud of.

[sissylittlefeather]

Anybody else love Tulsa McLean?

Home Sweet Oklahoma

A/N: This is a one-shot featuring one of my favorite Elvis movie characters from his 1960 movie GI Blues. I loooooove Tulsa and GI Blues for lots of reasons, but one of them is because I was born and raised in Oklahoma. I just couldn't help myself 😂. (Also please forgive any inaccuracies in my German, the geography, the time period, the military, etc. I did my best here.)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation (male), kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, and I think that's about it. It's pretty fluffy.

Word count: 6.3kish (I know it's long, but the backstory is important and it's a slow burn...)

When your father was transferred to Germany in 1956, the last thing you wanted to do was leave the states. You were just about to graduate from high school, so you argued and begged to be left behind. Of course, without a wedding ring on your finger, your father wasn't letting you live anywhere but where he was.

You never dreamed you'd love it here so much. Now, you've been here for four years and you've built a pretty good life. Still, sometimes you missed being back home. Not that you'd ever really had a place to call "home". Being a military brat wasn't easy and you'd never lived anywhere longer than 4 years at a time. Most places you only stayed 2, except for the stint in Colorado where your younger brother was born and the stint in Oklahoma where the twins were born. The time in Oklahoma was particularly memorable for you. You started 5th grade there and stayed until the summer before 9th grade. You were actually there long enough to make some good friends and experience your first dabbling in love. It was nothing serious, of course, but you'd never forget how he kissed you behind the swings at the park near your house. When you moved to North Carolina that summer, you were devastated.

Still, that was a long time ago, and living in Germany had changed you. You were a grown woman now, complete with a job singing in a night club. Your dad didn't love it, but being 22, you were more free to do as you pleased. And you typically did exactly that.

******

Tulsa, Cookie, and Rick were at the train station preparing for their transfer to Frankfurt. When they met the soldiers who just came from there, the first thing they wanted to know about was the girls. Where were the prettiest ones and what were they like? Rick was only concerned about one girl, Marla, who he had met and fallen in love with a year ago. Tulsa was ready to meet new ones and Cookie was along with him for the ride.

"There's only one dame to avoid." Turk warned.

"Avoid? That sounds like a challenge to me." Tulsa joked, his crooked smirk splayed across his face. He was the perfect combination of sexy and cute and he knew it. Girls didn't typically say no to him.

"You say that, but this dame is just mean. She's prettier than sin, but no man can get close to her. I'm telling you, don't waste your time."

"Well, now I'm really intrigued. Where do I find her?" Turk rolled his eyes at Tulsa's cockiness.

"She sings at the Cafe Amerikanisch."

"Amerikanisch? Is she--"

"American? Yes." Tulsa's eyes lit up. Picking up frauleins in a GI uniform was easy. A girl from back home would present a challenge worthy of his effort.

"Well, we'll see if I can't melt this ice queen." He looked at Cookie and wiggled his eyebrows. Turk scoffed. There was a whistle and everyone moved to board the train. As they walked away, Turk called out to Tulsa.

"Good luck! Her name is y/n!"

******

The Cafe Amerikanisch is owned by an American expat and is intended to serve as a haven for homesick soldiers and other Americans living and working in Germany. As an American singer, and a pretty good looking one at that, you are a perfect act for this particular club.

Tonight is a pretty normal Saturday for you as you sit in your dressing room waiting for it to be time for you to go on stage. Your shiny red dress is form-fitting with a dangerously high slit, but your legs are your best feature, so it doesn't bother you much. There's a knock on your door and someone lets you know you've got two minutes. You slip on your black heels and long black gloves and stand up, adjusting your hair in the mirror. The last thing you do is blow yourself a red-lipstick kiss for good luck and then make your way to the stage.

The band begins and you do your normal set, singing and flirting with the audience. You've just started your last song, a jazzy version of Dream a Little Dream of Me by Ella Fitzgerald, when you notice a group of American GIs come in and stand in the corner watching you. It's too dark for you to really see them, but your stomach drops and you have to actively stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Great, now you'll have to deal with them tonight.

You've learned from experience that the soldiers usually come in with one thing on their mind. For some reason, you seem to represent some kind of prize for them to win. You gave in once early in your career and fell in love head over heels just for him to disappear several months later. Since then, you've avoided these men like the plague and turned down, quite aggressively, every advance from one of them. It sounds arrogant to assume they're there for you, but it just always seems to be true. You don't intend on calling their bluff tonight or ever, really.

Seeing them standing in the corner sends up your defenses and you start to come up with reasons to go directly home after you finish singing. Finally, your set is done and you bow, smiling to the crowd, waving and blowing kisses. You head off the stage to your dressing room to change and get out of here. You're a little annoyed because you were hoping to stay and have a few drinks with some of the other girls in the show, but now you'll have to run home. Once you're back in your navy blue and white dress, you grab your coat and purse and make an attempt to leave. Several of the other girls stop you before you can get to the door, though, and you chat with them for a bit.

"Please get a drink with us, y/n!"

"No, I really need to go. I'm so tired."

"Just one? You always run out of here so quick."

"Alright, one drink. And then I have to go."

You let them lead you to a table, keeping your eyes on the group of GIs, waiting for them to try to approach you. You accidentally make eye contact with one of them and a bolt of recognition hits you. Why does he seem so familiar? No matter. You can ignore him, and his sweet blue eyes and perfect hair, the same way you've ignored all the others.

They stay put where they are, watching you, until after you get your drink. You're starting to think that maybe they'll leave you alone when you notice them making their way towards you. You down your drink in three gulps and say a quick goodbye to the girls. You stand up and almost run smack into the one with the blue eyes.

Between the alcohol and standing up so fast, you're a little dizzy and almost running into him knocks you off balance. He catches you with both hands on your upper arms before you fall.

"Whoa, honey, where are you headed so fast?" There's something about his accent that causes you to freeze. Who is he?

"Wait. Y/n?!" Your eyes scan up to his face and you try to place him. He's so familiar and he obviously knows you too.

"It's Tulsa! Tulsa McLean!" He steps back from you and gestures to himself.

Your heart stops.

"Oh my god. Tulsa..." Your hand goes to your mouth and you look up into his eyes.

You haven't seen him since you moved from Oklahoma 8 years ago. Your brain flashes back to holding his hand, going to the movies and getting hamburgers, and most of all, that kiss behind the swing set. You wrote letters back and forth for a while, but you lost contact once you both really got into high school. Now he's here, in front of you again.

"What are you doing here?" You ask. He points to his uniform.

"Isn't it obvious? What are you doing here?"

"My father..."

"He's here? I don't remember him liking me very much." He chuckles and looks around the club like your father might be right around the corner. You notice that the other soldiers are elbowing each other and laughing, like Tulsa has a real chance here and they're impressed. That makes your blood boil and you turn back to Tulsa coldly.

"Well, it's good to see you, but I really need to head home." He blinks, surprised by the change in your tone.

"Now wait a minute, can we go somewhere to talk?"

"No, I'm sorry. It's late. Goodnight." You turn and walk away. There's a pang in your heart as you do. You've missed him, a lot, but he's a soldier now. There's no way you can trust him. You swallow the lump in your throat as you walk out the door towards your house.

******

"Tulsa! We thought you were in for sure!" He and his group of friends make their way to a table to order some drinks.

"How do you know her?" He looks down at his beer when it comes, thinking about the time you spent together all those years ago. He hasn't stopped thinking about you in all that time.

"We went to school together for a while when we were kids." He's gotten unusually quiet and the guys look at each other in surprise.

"Isn't that a good thing? It'll make it easier, right?"

"Guys, I'm not doing this anymore."

"Aw, Tulsa, come on. You're our entertainment! You gotta prove to Turk that you can do it!"

"No, I'm done. I'm going to head back to the barracks. I'll see y'all later." He stands up and makes his way to the door. On his way out, he stops at the table of girls you had been sitting with.

"Hey, ladies. Do any of y'all know where I could find y/n?" The girls look at each other, hesitant to share your location with a soldier. Still, you live with your parents, so they figure your father will keep you safe if anything really bad happens. The girl that you're closest with, Maryann, tells him your address.

"Thank you. Truly." He flashes them a winning smile and heads for the door.

Cookie sees him walk out and turns back to the guys.

"Hey, fellas. I don't think this is over." They laugh and cheer. Your friends notice this and make a note to tell you later.

******

You're sitting in your room, brushing your hair and looking in the mirror, trying not to think about Tulsa. You've already gotten ready for bed, so you have on pajamas and your robe. It's really late and the rest of the house is asleep. The only lights on are in your small apartment over the garage. You live with your parents, but the house is large and you've got your own area with a bathroom and sitting room. Your father let you move over here when you started working at the club. This was the closest he would let you get to living on your own. Just as you put the brush down and go to get in your bed, you hear something hit your window. What on earth was that?

You ignore the sound and continue getting in bed. When you hear it again, though, you start to get nervous. You walk cautiously to the window and peek through your curtains at the street down below.

What the hell??

Tulsa is down there, throwing tiny rocks from the garden at your window.

How did he find you?!

When he sees you in the window, he waves like the 10-year-old he was when you met him. You open the window and call down as quietly as possible.

"Tulsa! What are you doing here?!"

"I need to talk to you!" He hollers.

"Shhhh! You're going to wake up my father. I'm coming down there." You look in the mirror quickly on your way down. Your pajamas will have to do, since you don't want to take the time to get dressed. And your hair is down around your shoulders, unfixed. But it's just Tulsa. He saw you in junior high; this can't be worse than that.

You tiptoe down the stairs and open the front door as quietly as possible. You pull your robe tighter around yourself and step out into the chilly night air, dragging the door closed softly behind you.

"What? Talk fast. I'm freezing."

"Maybe we should go inside?"

"Nice try, soldier. I'll be okay. Just talk."

"Well, I hadn't really thought of what I was going to say. I just needed to see you again." He smiles sheepishly.

"Tulsa. Why?"

"I'm not entirely sure." You scoff and start to go back inside. He grabs your arm lightly to stop you and his touch sends shockwaves through your body.

"No! Wait! I just... I haven't ever stopped thinking about you..."

"That was a long time ago, Tuls..."

"Have dinner with me." You shake your head no. "Please, Birdie..." Your eyes snap up to his. He called you by the nickname he made up for you back then, when you used to sing while he played the guitar. You can hear his junior high voice, "You're just like a little songbird. My very own Birdie."

"Just dinner?" You can feel yourself melting a bit and it bothers you.

"Yes. I promise."

"Pick me up tomorrow at 8." He nods excitedly and you turn to go back inside. You really hope you don't regret this.

******

Tulsa watches you walk back up to the house. He's still a little in shock that you said yes. He also can't believe what a beautiful woman you've become. He knew you were cute, but this is something entirely different. As he turns to go back to the barracks, his mind wanders to the way you looked in your red dress. It hugged every curve perfectly and your leg was peeking out through the slit. He longed to see both of your legs without the skirt in the way. And then you came downstairs in your pajamas and were somehow even more beautiful with your hair falling down around your shoulders. He imagines taking your robe off and running his hands up and under your silky pajamas. When he realizes how aroused he is, he decides to get a cab so he can sit down and not be wandering the streets of Frankfurt with a blatantly obvious erection.

Back at the barracks, he's the first one home for the night. He figures the other guys are still out at the club. His mind wanders back to you in the red dress and what it might look like on the floor of this room. Before he knows it, he's turned on again and he decides to do something pretty risky. He pulls his army-issue blanket over his lap and frees his painfully hard dick from his pants. As he touches himself, he imagines what your small, soft hands might feel like on him. The possibility drives him insane as he begins to stroke himself faster and faster. Then, he thinks of your beautiful red lips wrapped around him and he moans softly. He knows he probably doesn't have much time before the other guys come home, so he continues to move his hand up and down, moving his foreskin back and forth, the friction making his hips buck into his hand. His mind stays focused on you and your curves as he imagines holding your hips and pounding into you, first from behind and then with you on top so he can watch your breasts as they bounce with his motions. The image is almost overwhelming and he feels his release building. Finally, when he pictures the face you make when he gives you an orgasm, he comes hard, moaning your name with a string of cuss words.

His blanket is ruined, so he uses it to clean himself up quickly and then tosses it in his laundry. He's breathing heavily, a little embarrassed at having just gotten himself off to the thought of you, when he hears the guys coming down the hallway. He tries to slow his heart rate and gets ready for bed, laying down just as the door opens.

"Hey Tulsa! You missed a helluva night! You shoulda seen this girl Cookie was talking to!" He rolls over pretends like they woke him up.

"How'd it go with your girl?" They all look at him expectantly.

"Oh, well, uh, we're having dinner tomorrow night." They whoop and holler, the amount of beer they had becoming obvious.

"We knew you'd get her! Nothing like a connection from the past to get a girl to go weak in the knees for ya!" Tulsa frowns.

"It's not like that, fellas." He tries not to think about what he just pictured you doing. "We're old friends. That's all. Now let me go back to sleep." He rolls back over as they continue talking and laughing. He tries to go to sleep, but he can't stop imagining you curled up next to him in your silk pajamas.

******

You're standing in front of your house in your favorite pink dress when Tulsa pulls up in a cab. You forgot that he wouldn't have a car, since he's a soldier. He hops out and opens the door for you, but you shake your head.

"We'll take my car." He pays the cab driver and follows you to your BMW convertible. His mouth pops open when he realizes it's yours.

"Nightclub business must be good." He jokes. You remember how much he loves cars and toss him the keys.

"I don't really feel like driving tonight." His eyes light up and you can't stop yourself from smiling. He really is an attractive man. This might be harder than you thought.

You guide him to a restaurant, where he parks and runs to your side of the car to open the door for you. He still has his southern manners. Once you get to the table, you both relax a bit and it feels more like the two of you used to be, talking and laughing easily.

"And how's your mama? She was always so sweet to me." You ask, taking a bite of your food.

"That's because she loved you! Always said you were too good for me. She was probably right." He looks at you shyly. "But, she's good! She and Daddy still live in the same house. I haven't seen them in almost 2 years." He gets a little somber and you can tell he must be homesick.

"Are you almost finished with your tour?"

"I've got three months here in Frankfurt and then I'm free. I can't wait to get back to the states." You look down at your plate. He's going to disappear in three months. Don't get attached.

"What about you? Will you be headed stateside any time soon?"

"No, my father is about to retire, but he wants to stay here. And even if he left, I'd probably try to stay. I like it here and I don't really have a home in the US. Not like you do."

"You could always come back to Oklahoma." He cuts himself off before he says "with me." You look up at him, noticing that it seems like he wants to say something else, but he doesn't. Instead, he changes the subject to talk about your singing career. He tells you he has formed a group with some of the guys and has been performing whenever they get a chance. He also tells you about how they want to open a nightclub when they get home.

"See, you could come sing in our club! Be our main act!" You know he's joking, but there's an edge of seriousness to him that makes you wonder.

You continue to talk and laugh through the rest of dinner and it feels good to be with him, like he brings out a part of you that you forgot exists. A happy, hopeful, youthful part of you that's been buried since you had your heart broken.

You sit together at dinner for a long time after you finish eating and even when you can't sit there any longer, you're still not ready to be away from him. He suggests a drink somewhere and you agree with a swiftness that you fear gives you away.

You like him. A lot.

He's still the sweet, funny boy you loved so long ago, just in the body of this charming and devilishly handsome man.

You decide to take him back to the Amerikanisch for drinks. It's familiar and you know everyone that works there. You sit at your table together and continue your conversation from before. At one point, he says something really funny and you put your hand on his on the table. He stops laughing and looks at you longingly. You let him take your hand and hold it, running his thumb over your knuckles softly. Your heart beats faster and you start to wish that you were somewhere other than a crowded club so he could kiss you if he wanted to. And something tells you that he wants to. The spell is broken, though, when his friends come in and see you together. He gets up to take them to a different table.

"I'll be right back, Birdie." He uses your nickname again and you wish it didn't make you melt all over again.

As soon as he's gone, Maryann joins you at your table.

"You need to watch out for that one."

"For Tulsa? No, I've known him for a long time. He's not that kind of guy."

"Yeah, well, his buddies sure think he is." She tells you about what she and the other girls noticed last night.

"Just be careful, okay? I'd hate to see you become some kind of trophy for him." You nod and look over at him at the table with the other soldiers. You can't let yourself forget he's one of them.

******

"What are you guys doing here?"

"We had a feeling you'd be here with y/n and we wanted to come check on your progress. And even if you weren't, Cookie wanted to come see his waitress."

"Check my progress? I told y'all that's not what this is. You're about to ruin the whole thing." Tulsa raises his voice slightly to let them know he's serious. Cookie's waitress comes by and he disappears to follow her to the bar. The rest of the guys agree to back off, so Tulsa makes his way back over to you. There's another girl sitting with you, though, and he recognizes her as the one who gave him your address.

"Thanks again for helping me find her...?"

"Maryann. Nice to meet you. I've been hearing a lot about you in the last ten minutes." She stands up and lets him sit back down. As she walks away, she gestures to you that she's watching.

"What was that all about?"

"Oh, nothing really. She just worries about me since..." You trail off, not really wanting to talk about why.

"Since what?"

"Since Mike." Tulsa looks uncomfortable and brings his eyebrows together in a frown.

"Who is Mike?" You don't want to, but you feel safe with Tulsa, so you tell him the whole story. How you let him take you out, let him convince you to fall in love with him, let him make you believe he wanted to marry you, let him have you. When you get to the last part, Tulsa looks away from you, obviously affected. The thought of you with another man makes him sick to his stomach. The thought of that man hurting you fills him with rage. He suddenly wishes Mike was around, so he could punch him in the face and then take you in his arms and protect you.

"That's why you don't trust soldiers." You nod, not wanting to let the tears that have gathered in your eyes find a way to fall. He's dying to put his arm around you and comfort you. He wants to wipe the tears from your eyes and make sure you never cry again. But you're still in the middle of a crowded club.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" He asks, trying to sound as genuine as possible. You look over to his table of friends hesitantly. He looks down at his hands, frustrated by the fact that they've made you nervous. He'd give anything not to be wearing this stupid uniform right now.

"Yes." He looks up at you, pleasantly surprised. You decide to trust him, despite everything. He stands up and puts his hand out for you to take, so you grab your coat and wrap your fingers through his. At your touch, his heart skips a beat. This might be more than just rekindling a friendship.

******

When you get outside the club, the cold wind hits you and you shiver. Tulsa puts his arm around you, and you let him, warmth spreading through you.

The only place you can think of to go is back to your house. You recognize that this might send the wrong message, but you're not exactly sure that is the wrong message at this point.

Once you're in the car, Tulsa asks where you want to go.

"Home."

"Oh. Okay." He thinks you mean without him. You scoot close to him in the front seat and put your head on his shoulder.

"I want you to come with me." He tries to hide his excitement and fails, but instead of being annoyed, you think it's really cute. He puts the car in drive and you make your way back to your house.

Thankfully, the house is dark when you get there. You weren't looking forward to explaining to your father why Tulsa was coming upstairs with you. Instead, you both take off your shoes and walk as quietly as possible until you reach the safety of your apartment.

As soon as you close your bedroom door, you both burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. You're grown adults sneaking around like teenagers. He sets his hat down on your dresser while you take your coat off. You stand there for a while, staring at each other in silence. Then, slowly, carefully, he reaches out and puts his hand on your cheek, brushing it softly with his thumb. You close your eyes and lean into his palm. Your heart is beating so fast and your eyes flutter open to meet his blue ones. They're soft and calm, like the ocean on a still day. As he leans in, your fingers begin to tingle. When his soft lips finally meet yours, a tidal wave of desire washes over you and you're filled with a need for him to touch every inch of you. The same wave seems to hit him as well because he moves his hands from your face to your waist, pulling your hips in close to him as you throw your arms around his neck. Your lips part and he slides his tongue into your mouth to dance with yours. You feel your body heat up as he presses against you, kissing you passionately.

After a few minutes of being locked together like this, he pulls back from your lips and looks into your eyes again.

"Is this really what you want, Birdie? I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you into anything." You think for a second. If this continues, you know you won't be able to stop yourself from falling for him. But do you want to stop? Tulsa isn't like the others. He knows you. And even if he is leaving in a few months, you've found each other once before. Who's to say you won't do it again? You're ready to stop being scared. And three months with him sounds better than a lifetime with Mike.

"Yes, this is what I want. You are what I want, Tulsa." He dives back into the kiss and never looks back. You walk backwards towards your bed, pulling his tie off and starting to unbutton his shirt. He finishes your work and drops it on the floor, his lips never moving from yours. His hands move to the back of your dress, finding the zipper and carefully pulling it down to the small of your back. As he runs his hands back up to your shoulders, his fingers graze the skin that was under your dress and the electricity is palpable. You wiggle your shoulders as he slides the top half of your dress off. He kisses down your neck to your shoulder and each place he presses his lips burns with a newfound heat. You push your dress down over your hips and let it fall to the floor with his shirt. He slides the tips of his fingers under your slip and pushes it down too. Then, he pulls back and looks at you standing there in your garter belt, hose, bra, and panties.

"Wow." You blush a little with his burning gaze moving up and down your body and move to cover yourself with your hands.

"You don't have to hide from me, baby." He gently moves your hands away from you and you start to feel more comfortable. His presence is comforting, even as you stand there nearly naked. You take a moment to look down his body, running your hands from his shoulders down to the waistline of his pants. That's when you notice that his dick is hard, pressing against the fabric of his pants dramatically. You look up into his eyes and he looks away and clears his throat like he's embarrassed. You put one hand on his cheek and softly move his face back to making eye contact with you. Then you take your other hand and touch him over his pants, rubbing up and down his dick carefully.

"Mmm." His eyes close and his hips buck forward into your hand. He is desperate for your touch, just as you are for his. He moves his hands up and down your sides and then finds the back of your garter belt with his fingers. He undoes the hooks and then sits you down on the edge of the bed. Kneeling down in front of you, he slowly unclips your hose and drops the belt to the floor. Then, he gently rolls your hose down each of your legs, lifting each ankle to his lips and pressing a kiss there. He kisses each of your knees and then pushes them apart to kiss the inside of each thigh. As he gets closer and closer to your center, you feel your arousal begin to gather in your panties. He stops before he gets there, though, and stands up. You lean forward and unbutton his pants.

"Wait, honey." He puts his hands on yours and stands there looking down at you, breathing heavily. He wants to savor this moment with you. He's been with women before, but something about this feels like another kind of first time. It's a little overwhelming and he wants to make sure it doesn't move too quickly. He looks at you sitting there in just your bra and panties. You might be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Even his imagination didn't do you justice. Is this what it feels like to be in love?

"Should I... should I put on pajamas or something?" You look around the room, assuming something about you must have turned him off, despite his continuing erection. He sits next to you on the bed.

"Oh, no, honey--"

"You don't like me?" You look at him with tears in your eyes. You didn't realize it mattered to you so much, but now you know. You so desperately want him to want you, to like you, to love you the way you've realized you've always loved him.

"Don't like you?! Baby, I-I... well... to hell with it... I love you." Your eyes snap up to meet his.

"Y-you do?"

"Aw, hell. Yes, y/n I do. I always have." He searches your face for some kind of reassurance that he's not alone in this.

"I love you too..." you whisper it, but it's enough for him. He puts his hands on your face and pulls you into a deep kiss. He lays you back on the bed, running his hand down your body. He kisses down your neck, whispering "I love you" in between each kiss. His hand makes its way to your center and he moves your panties to the side, sliding his finger up your slit to the place that makes your back arch and a moan escape your lips. He smiles at how easily you come undone in his hands. After a few second of this, he slips one finger into you and then two. The feeling of some part of him inside you is enough to drive you to the edge. He sits up on his knees and slides your panties down and off. Then he climbs in between your legs and pushes his fingers back into you, moving them in and out rhythmically. You're overcome by the sensation of his hands on you and the intense emotions that are running through you. He loves you. But more importantly, you love him. Everything physical that's happening is just an expression of that and you never want it to end. Just as you think you're going to lose control, he lowers his mouth onto you and adds his tongue to the movements he's already making. You gasp and it doesn't take long for your orgasm to build up and crash over you like waves on a beach, over and over again out to the edges of your body and back again.

"Oh, yes, Tulsa!" You cry out as you shudder and pulse around his fingers. He sits up on his knees and finally lets you undo his pants, kicking them and his underwear off quickly. He unhooks your bra and literally throws it to the side. Now, it's like he can't move fast enough. He needs to be inside you as soon as possible. You help him with this task, lining him up with your entrance before he pushes into you hard and deep.

"Oh shit." He moans. "You feel so good, Birdie." When he uses your nickname again you whimper and kiss his neck. He begins to pump in and out of you and both of you begin to sweat. You feel him inside you, hitting all of your most sensitive places. The rhythm he keeps is not too fast or too slow, his hips pressing into yours and driving him deeper inside you. You can't believe how good he feels like this. But you want to repay him for the pleasure he gave you at the start, so you push him off of you and lay him on his back next to you. He follows directions easily, waiting patiently for you to straddle him and lower yourself onto him. Groaning with the change in sensation of having you on top of him, he reaches up and cups both of your breasts while you bounce. The picture that you make, sitting there on top of him, drives him absolutely crazy.

"God, you're beautiful." He moves his hands to your hips and starts to thrust into you deeply. You roll your hips to meet his over and over, your hands on his chest. His eyes roll back and close as his mouth is opened partially. The look of pleasure that he has makes you want to keep doing this forever. His arousal fuels your own as you continue to grind against him.

"Yes, don't stop!" You moan again as another orgasm builds inside you, starting in your abdomen and spreading through your legs.

"I'm gonna come, baby." He opens his eyes and tries to watch the expression on your face, but he's overwhelmed by his own ecstatic pleasure as you reach your climax together. You feel his warmth inside you and know it's risky, but you don't care. In that moment, the only thing that matters is you and him together, bodies intertwined and breathing heavily, your skin pressed against his. You lay on his chest and he wraps his arms around you and kisses your hair.

"Birdie, that was..."

"...everything." You look up at him from your position on his chest. You've never felt anything like this before, emotionally or physically. You gently run your fingertip down the line of his nose and he grabs your fingers and kisses them. The intimacy between you goes beyond the simplicity of sex. You belong to each other.

Eventually, you get up to go to the bathroom, thinking about everything that just happened. It seems like fate that you would run into each other again. And after what just happened, you don't ever want to let him go.

When you get back to the bedroom, he gestures for you to come lay beside him. He's under the covers now; it looks like he doesn't want to go anywhere either. It's fine by you that he stays. You wish he could stay forever. That's when you remember that he's leaving in 3 months.

"Tulsa, what are we gonna do?"

"About what, honey?"

"You're only here for a little while." You crawl into the bed and snuggle up against him. He's not worried about anything, though. In his mind, he's going to buy a ring tomorrow.

"Come back to Oklahoma with me." He says it matter-of-factly. You think about what that would mean, leaving your job and your friends and your family behind. But you've moved so many times before. And this time, you wouldn't be moving away from somewhere, you'd be moving towards a home with him.

"Okay. I'll go home with you. I'm not sure how my father will feel about me moving without--"

"--a ring on your finger? Let me worry about that part." He makes his crooked smirk-smile and you kiss his cheek.

"I trust you..."

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I wasn't sure if anyone would want to be tagged, since this is technically not an Elvis fic...

[genderlesssinner]

Bells hells Episode 110! Ooookay

Oh. Oh no. Samuel. Why

Oh it's worse. Oh boy. Kitten!Dani loving on Marisha is precious though, and I believe Sam's kids as well? Adorable but terrible

(I missed Marisha's ad bc internet panic)

Ooohhh I want all of the novelllssss aaaaahhh

Okay okay let's gooo

That Raven Queen lore drop last ep thoooo

Black and white and red all over 😂

Fair point Liev'tel, fair point

Makes sense. Dorian saw Opal in the Hell Catch, I wonder if Aimee will make an appearance at some point

What would graffiti in Vasselheim even look like?

I do think there would be some panic or something if that memory had already been broadcast though

"For the hell of it" MATTHEW

KIKIIIII SHES GETTING THE GANG BACK TOGETHER I AM EXCITED

SAMUEL I SAW THAT FACE. I wonder where the little bastard is though

Ooooohh good idea (I think?) Ash

Bells hells gonna go vibe with the Ashari??? Fuck yeah let's go yall.

I wonder what the Ashari in general would think of the titan shard holders, and Fearne being all fiery in general (wildfire druid)

I mean valid Dorian, yall have talked to 3 gods and gotten 3 very different answers. But yeah she's also my favorite but the Wildmother comes close

Man. No matter how this goes the leylines are fucked up something major. Magical storms?? Yikes

Oh no, hopefully Ludinus is not catching on to Liliana

Xandis!!!! Oh man I didn't even recognize who they were at first

🤣

Keybane?? Oooo Kiki gave them a title, sweet

I just live the way Xandis speaks it's so fun

"it sounds like a euphemism. It isn't."

Awwwuuhh Xandis remembered Letters 🥺

"Smiley day to you too" 😭

It makes sense to want opinions from all sides of the board, Fearnie, but yeah no Betrayers in the city. I would definitely be curious to see what Asmodeus or any of the others would say, after what he said to Braius last time

Also very interested with Braius wanting to go to the Platinum Dragon, instead of Asmodeus

Ashton is making some good points though I only kind of agree about the nature of the Betrayers and stuff.

Oh boy, Orym is right though. I mean, this isn't the time to leave things unsaid either

(looking at you, Orym,,, Dorian,,,)

You can be optimistic but also realistic - Hope we win (whatever the fuck that even means) and also know that this could be the end of you or your friends

"no I'll drag you it'll be fun" guuuuuyyyysssss

I was so expecting Sam to not have the fucking spell and just neigh at the damn horse 🤣

Oh well shit okay yeah he's probably like a celestial not a beast huh

They sent spies to the moon. I wonder who

Oh boy the Hells will be traveling with the Nein for a bit? That should be interesting

I'm so worried about Orym. Well, all of them, but especially him. He's keeping so much to himself and I know first hand how bad that can be.

Chet. I cannot. He has a little bit of a point but like. Don't be such a greedy little shit.

Ooooohh let's get Fearnie to talk to Cerkonos yesss

Travis is being such a little shit

Oooo Doriiiaaaaaan

Okay Robbie,,, oh my god

I love shopping trips for the little peeks we get into the day to day of the place

I'm not sure if I like the vibes I'm getting from this guy. It's amusing he's just sus af and that's before we knew he had forgery stuff

More whispersss damn yall

Oh no guys no don't fuck with the fusaka

I can't

That totally wasn't his shop they convinced me

Awwwww Dorian that's so sweet. He's so selfless

I love him so much

Hmm I wonder if they're gonna learn anything from the titan. Interesting

Break! I have a Duoling lesson to do, lol see yall after!

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 7: Lucky Seven

* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M? (Still figuring out the rating system) (might eventually be M anyhow)

* Warnings: brief mention of murder, language, I think this chapter is pretty tame?

* Word count: 5,496ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being a sounding board for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. Seriously couldn't have gotten this far.

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! Also oof this one is longer than normal 😂. If you stick around until the end, kudos to you and thank you!

Stella frowned when she heard her phone ring from across the room. She just finished getting ready in her bathroom to head to the ranch for the day. It was 5:30 in the morning. ‘Someone better be dying, or in jail.’ Running to grab it before the last ring, she saw it was Monica.

“Hey Monica, what’s wrong?” Stella quickly questioned. It wasn’t usual for her to call her this early. She normally didn’t call her to begin with. Typically it was a text that came through.

The tinny, muffled sound came through the speaker. “Stella? Kayce was arrested.”

“What, why?!”

“I don’t know, but I need your help to get him out.”

“Okay I’m on my way. Are you home?”

“Yes. And thank you.”

Stella hung up the phone and shot a text to her brother. I’m gonna be late this mornin. Monica needs my help with something. Hurrying, she grabbed her keys and back pack, and ran out the door.

Monica stood with Tate outside of their house when Stella arrived. Once she got her son in the backseat of Stella’s SUV, she jumped in the car herself. Stella looked at her questioningly.

Monica explained. “We’ve gotta go to Chief Rainwater.”

“Monica, I’m gonna be real with you here for a second.” She side eyed Tate in the backseat and nodded to Monica to meet her outside of the car.

Monica faced her son. “Hey Tate? Me and Aunt Stell are gonna go talk outside really quick. Stay here.” Both of the women hopped out and stood at the front of the car and faced away from the little boy so he couldn’t figure out what was going on.

“So you were gonna be real with me?”

“Yeah.” Stella sighed the word. “The easiest solution to get him out of there as quickly as possible, is to go to his dad. Not me. ”

“Yeah I know, but I would rather not. Unless absolutely necessary.”

“Which I get, but they have a lawyer on their roster. I’m not that lawyer, Monica. I don’t have that kind of firepower. Chief Rainwater only knows me as the off Rez girl that hangs out with you and Kayce. My argument isn’t gonna change his mind. Especially since we have no idea what they picked him up for in the first place.” Stella shrugged. “Kayce is probably already thinking of getting Jamie involved anyhow.”

“We have to try, Stella. Rainwater has respect for you. He’ll at least listen.”

Stella made a face. That was news to her that he had respect for her. She wasn’t exactly sure how much the Chief would actually listen. “I’ll give it my best shot.” She looked directly at Monica. “You take your car. If I’m not having any luck, one of us is gonna have to go to his dad. Jamie will be able to get him out of there for sure if I can’t.”

“How will I know?”

“I’ll come outside. I’ll stay just in case they try anything funny before Jamie would get there.” Monica went to work and switched Tate into her car. She gave Stella a thumbs up signaling she was ready to pull out.

They arrived at the Chief’s office about 15 minutes later. Stella breathed deeply, trying to boost her confidence. She was good with people for the most part, but not everyone loved her. Monica said Rainwater respected her, but Stella wasn’t sure how true that was. Being the troublemaker’s best friend didn’t exactly keep her high on the list.

Stella jumped when Monica tapped on her window. She opened the door and registered Monica’s serious face.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Monica questioned her.

Stella stepped out of the car, locking it behind her, and shook her head. “I have a little faith in myself, but I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep.” Monica patted her on the back as she walked away, heading into the Chief’s office.

When Stella stepped through the threshold, the few people milling about stopped to look at her. She smiled at the folks still looking at her puzzled. She took in all the regalia displayed around the office for a minute. She noticed the secretary, Rebecca, and made a beeline for her desk.

Rebecca noticed the movement and greeted Stella with a smile. “Hi Stella, what can I help you with today?”

“Yeah, hi. I heard Kayce Dutton had gotten picked up and I was wondering if I could place bail for him or something.”

“Yeah, all of us know who you are Stella.” The woman behind the desk chuckled. “Why are you acting like you’ve never met me before?”

Stella sighed. “I guess I’m just trying to keep it professional. I dunno, Rebecca.” She shrugged.

Rebecca continued. “As for Kayce, I don’t have much information about that. At least information that I’m permitted to give you, anyhow.”

“Yeah that’s completely fine. I was just wondering if I could talk to Chief Rainwater for a moment?”

“He’s actually in a meeting.”

Stella frowned at the rejection. She heard the door open to her left and saw the Chief’s head of security, Mo, stick his head out. He was looking for the secretary to tell her something, but he never got the chance.

“Oh hey Mo! Just the person I was looking for.”

He whispered to himself, “oh no,” and he stuck his head back inside the room. “Stella Daniels is here, sir.”

“Wait, Stella’s here?” She heard Kayce’s surprise. She excused herself from Rebecca and made her way to Mo.

He snapped his arm across the door frame to stop her. “Stella you can’t come in here.”

“Well it just so happens that I’m actually here to talk to you about the resident guest you have in there.” She pointed to the room. “Well, you and Mr. Rainwater.”

The muffled voices of the men in the room drifted out from behind the door. Thomas’s voice gave direction to his head security officer. “Mo, let her in.”

Mo swung the door open with a sigh and stepped aside to let Stella by. These two always found a way to give them all a headache. Kayce smiled cutely at her from the chair and she gave him a stern look. She quickly switched to a saccharine smile when she directed her gaze at Rainwater. Her smile faltered when she saw Officer Waters posted beside Thomas, but she regained her composure and continued with the facade of confidence.

“Ms. Daniels.” Thomas waved to the empty chair in front of his desk. “Please have a seat.” Stella seated herself and crossed her legs at the knee. She waited for Thomas to continue. “So Kayce is what brings you here today, is that correct?”

“Well, not just him.” She heard Kayce scoff because he didn’t catch her meaning. “Primarily though, yes. I was actually wondering if I could talk to him really quick.” She side eyed Kayce.

Thomas accepted the request. “By all means.” No one made a motion to leave.

Stella chuckled and scratched her temple. “What I meant was, may I speak to him alone for like two minutes?” She did her best to put on an innocent doe eyed face.

Sheriff Waters began to object. “I don’t think that’s a good idea sir.”

Her attention whipped in his direction. When their eyes locked he looked like he wanted to escape. “What am I gonna do, Ben? Climb out the window with him and run?” Stella had a mischievous glint in her eye and a small grin in a challenge to his objection. Ben’s mouth opened and closed for a moment. The look on her face made him sweat. “I just want to talk to him really quick. I promise. No funny business.” She made direct eye contact with Thomas.

Thomas looked at Mo and then back to Stella as he contemplated. These two were known for being troublemakers. Tricksters. By everyone. There was a time when Thomas wouldn’t have put climbing out the window and running, past them. He still wouldn’t, but he didn’t think they were that stupid. Their energy now versus when they were younger, was very different. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Fine. Two minutes.” Ben and Mo headed to the door with Thomas following not far behind. He stopped and pinned the pair with a stern gaze. “The door stays cracked.” Both of them nodded and smiled.

Stella remained seated for an extra second after everyone left and intently watched the door. Once she felt that they were in the clear, she snapped to her feet and stalked over to Kayce. He braced himself against the chair as far as he could without tipping it. He thought she was going to land a solid crack to his jaw. She placed her hands on the arms of his chair effectively boxing him into his seat and huffed.

She whispered aggressively through her teeth. “Okay, now's not the time to be cute. What the fuck did you do and how much bullshit do your wife and I have to dig through to get you out?”

Kayce felt his eyes cross at Stella’s close proximity. He blinked to refocus. “People were trying to hurt Danny Trudeau’s daughter. I helped her, and stopped them. Then Danny and I took care of the fall out.” He whispered back.

Stella’s eyes widened as she whispered angrily at him again. “Stopped them?! Like permanently?” He nodded back at her.

Stella stood straight, put her glasses on top of her head, and rubbed her forehead. She drug her hand down her face. “Shit. We need Jamie.” The three men loudly re-entered the room. Stella placed her glasses back on her face.

“So did you two have your talk?” Thomas asked.

“Yessir.” They both answered in stereo.

Thomas looked between them. “So what is it that you wanted to speak to me about?” He walked back around his desk and seated himself.

Stella sucked in her bottom lip and held it with her teeth. She wasn’t exactly sure where to go from here. Especially when she knew the reason for him being held.

Thomas interrupted her train of thought. “I know what you’re going to ask, Stella, and the answer is no. We cannot release him into civilian custody.”

Kayce tried to defend Stella. “I mean, you know I’m not going to run anywhere. Monica or Stella wouldn’t let me do that. I don’t even think I would.”

Thomas put his foot down. “That’s a chance I’m not willing to take. It happened here.” His gaze moved from Kayce and back to Stella as he put his finger on his desk. “He can’t leave tribal land.”

Stella sighed. “Is there any way I can convince you to give him over to me, at all?”

“No Stella. We appreciate the effort, and I’m sure he does as well, but unfortunately this isn’t something you can fix.” Thomas let her down easy.

The best friends made direct eye contact. There was a subtle nod between them and Kayce looked at Thomas. “I’d like a lawyer.”

“Gentlemen, that would be my cue.” Stella nodded as she left.

Making her way out to the front steps, she searched around to see where Monica was. The women saw each other and made their way to meet in the middle.

“We need Jamie.”

Monica groaned. “Damn it!”

“I know, but it’s something I can’t undo. I don’t have the legal power. Whatever it was, it happened on tribal land. They don’t want him to set foot off the Rez. I can take the hit for you, if you really want to avoid talking to John?”

“No, I should be the one to go. Maybe call him so I don’t have to explain as much?” Monica requested.

“Yeah. I’ll do that. I’ll let them know you’re on your way. I’ll stay here out of sight, just in case.” Stella watched her walk off and hop in her car.

Stella cringed. This was definitely not the situation she thought she would be in this morning.

The phone rang four times before John answered with confusion. “Stella? What’s wrong?” She only called him if it was an emergency. After the fiasco of the last few days, he didn’t think she would try to contact him on purpose for a while. Unless they ran into each other on the ranch.

“It’s Kayce, sir. He was picked up by Rez police. They’re holding him down at the station. We need Jamie.”

“What do they have him for?”

“Something that happened on the reservation. They wouldn’t tell me. I just know this is something neither Monica nor myself have the power to fix. She’s on her way to you now with Tate.”

“I’m gonna make some calls.” John ended the call abruptly.

Both John and Jamie talked hurriedly on the phone with people to figure out Kayce’s situation.

“Well, they gotta transfer him somewhere, and if they haven't… If they haven't called you for the transfer, then it's gotta be federal, right?” John questioned. He remained silent while the person on the other end explained something to him. “Okay, well can you reach out to the BIA and FBI, see if they've had any transfer requests? Be vague, all right? Don't use Kayce's name. I don't want to… I don't want to open a door we can't close. Hold on a second.”

Jamie interrupted. “I checked with the federal court in Billings. No warrant was issued there, and nothing from the Park County Court either.”

“Walter, get back to me on this.” John ended the call and turned to Jamie fully. “What do you think they got him for?”

Jamie replied hopefully. “Fingers crossed it's the Rez thing.”

“Yeah. Take the chopper. Don't waste time in a car. Jamie…,” John paused. “Don't leave there without him, son.”

“I won't.” Jamie pulled out his cell phone again and called their pilot. “Viggo, I'm gonna need the chopper.” Monica walked up just as Jamie was leaving.

John focused all his attention on her and his grandson. “Had breakfast?”

“Not hungry.”

“How 'bout you, Tate?” He gave the boy a second to answer. He shrugged noncommittedly. “Or maybe just skip straight to dessert?”

Tate’s eyes lit up. “Like, what kind of desert?”

“Well, there's some cookies in there the size of pie plates.”

“Big cookie!”

“Well, they ain't small. Go ahead.” John ruffled Tate’s hair affectionately and gently guided him in the direction of the house as he ran by.

John waited until his grandson was completely out of ear shot. “Wouldn't say what they picked him up for.”

“They wouldn't tell me or Stella at the station either.” Monica shrugged.

“No arraignment date?”

“Mm-mm.”

“Sounds to me like they're—,” John interrupted himself. “—They're looking, that's all.”

Monica let out a humorless scoff. “Don't have to look far with Kayce.”

“We'll get him out of this, don't you worry. You have my word.” He took a moment. “And after I do, you two need to think about what's best for your family.”

“I'm not sure what you mean.” She tilted her head.

“Living day to day isn't living, Monica, it's surviving, with no regard for tomorrow.”

Tate came out and interrupted. “Boy, you weren't kidding.”

John thought quick on his feet to get Tate back inside. “Yeah, well, you should've brought two. Let me see that one.” He grabbed for the cookie in the boy’s hands. “Yeah, you're gonna have to go get another one, 'cause this one's mine.”

“Hey!” Tate giggled and wandered back into the house.

John looked after his grandson and then focused back on his daughter-in-law. “Tomorrow's the only thing a parent is supposed to live for.”

Stella heard the chopper coming before she saw it. She had parked a little ways off to the side. Once she saw it safely landed, Stella climbed out of her car. Racing around to the other side of the chopper caught Jamie’s attention.

Jamie stopped walking and waited for her. “Kayce dragged you into this too, huh?”

Stella raised her eyebrows at the accusation. “I was actually the first person that called your dad. So if anybody drug anyone into anything, it was me.” She pointed to herself.

“They wouldn’t let you take him?” There was an air of self-importance in his voice and he smirked.

She shot back quickly. “Of course not, Jamie. I’m not a lawyer.” She focused her gaze on him. “I was able to talk to him privately long enough for him to tell me what they’re holding him for.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Well, he saved a girl from being abducted and may or may not have stopped the people from doing it again. Ever.”

“What?! Why didn’t you tell my dad that?”

Stella quickly changed the subject. “So do you want me to stay in case things get weird, or meet y’all back at the ranch?”

“What would you be able to do if you stayed?” He asked her incredulously. Something in her eyes changed. Jamie would have called them crazy eyes out loud, but he hadn’t planned on being uppercut today.

Her voice came out soft, deceptively innocent. “Do you mean in the aspect of Kayce?”

“Yes. What could you possibly do that would help me?” He was frustrated with not only her antics, but his brothers as well. His whole family.

“Oh Jamie.” She pushed the front side of her glasses. “That is a heavy hypothetical question with an even heavier hypothetical answer.” Stella gave him a look that asked if she was picking up what he was putting down.

Jamie shook his head. “Nevermind. I shouldn’t have even asked.” He knew that when it came to his little brother, Stella would burn the whole state of Montana down if it meant Kayce would be safe.

Stella smiled and her eyes became normal again. “I’m glad you see it my way, bud.” She patted his shoulder. “I plead the fifth.” She cleared her throat. “So, do you want me to stay and wait, or not?”

He shook his head again. “No you go home. I’ll have him out in less than 30 minutes.”

“Okay sounds good.” She watched Jamie walk away. When he was out of earshot she whispered to herself, “good talk.”

She sent a text to Monica quickly before she hopped in her car. Jamie’s here. He said he’ll have him out in 30 or less. I’m on my way. You still at the ranch?

When Stella buckled her seatbelt her phone vibrated in the cup holder. Monica replied. Yep we’re still here. Thank you Stell. Smiling to herself, she put her car in drive to get a head start.

••

Stella made it back to the ranch in record time. At the very least, she beat Kayce and Jamie home. She pulled up to the big house. John was out with Tate and Monica sat off to the side. Not wanting to interrupt the duo, she made her way to Monica. She seated herself across from her best friend’s wife and sighed.

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t get him out.”

Monica shook her head gently. “You showed up and tried. That’s what matters.”

“It’s the least I could do.” Stella shrugged. “I think Jamie will have him home soon.”

John watched the women talk amongst themselves while he excused himself from his grandson. He got some type of comfort knowing these two had Kayce’s back.

Monica gave John a look. “You know you don’t act like the man from the stories.”

“That's the thing about being a grandfather.” John groaned as he sat down. “I get to do all the things I wished I'd done with my children.” He watched his grandson for a second and looked back to the women sitting with him. “The things I regret, I get... I get to do different.”

“It doesn't change the things you did, though.”

“No, it doesn't.” John agreed. He looked at Stella sitting there silently. She looked everywhere but them. “Thank you for trying to help her get him out.”

“Of course, sir.” Stella picked at the corner of her thumb nail.

Everyone heard the helicopter approach and started to stand. John yelled for Tate. “Come here grandson!” John walked forward to meet Jamie.

Stella rolled her eyes at the sight of Kayce’s older brother. There was just something about him that really irked her soul. She didn’t hate him, she just wanted to punch him in the throat a few times. ‘Yeah I’d probably feel better after that.’ Kayce always used to give her a hard time when they were younger, saying she had a crush on him. That honestly couldn’t be further from the truth. The only thing she could do was deny it and keep moving. Kayce caught her attention as he walked to his wife and son, and best friend.

She smiled and waved at him. Monica and Stella gave at each other a look. Stella decided it was time for her to sneak off. This was a reunion she wasn’t involved in.

Stella could see from the top of the hill that the wranglers were out in the pen working with some of the herd that needed doctoring. Ryan caught her eye as she made her way down the hill and nodded to her. She waved at him and leaned against the outside fence, content to just watch today. Something was going on with Jimmy, but Lloyd seemed to take him under his wing.

Kayce and his father also came down the hill not far behind Stella. Kayce looked out over the pen and watched the men work on the herd. He spotted Stella off to the side and smiled in her direction. He enjoyed seeing her happy here. His dad spoke to him, bringing him out of his reverie.

“Spent all morning pricing stallions. You can buy a damn house in town for what they cost now.”

“I just gave you a stallion.” Kayce stated.

“No one can ride him, Kayce.” John objected. “He's smart and mean. That's a bad combination in a horse.”

“Stella said she’s been doing just fine with him. He ain't got a mean bone in his body. She’d be the first to tell you. She’s just gotta finish him.”

“Well, that was Lee's job.”

“Which I thought you’d given to her? Have you even talked to her about it, or have you just left her hanging?” Kayce got angrier the more excuses he heard from his dad. Stella was most likely giving him free labor at this point.

“I don’t know if I want her to do it by herself. I don't have the time to finish him. Rip, he doesn't have the temperament.” John explained.

“I can pull him back down to my place and work on him with Stella then. She’s got the perfect temperament for it.”

“Why don't you work on him here? You're a horse trainer, aren't you?” John asked. “Aren't you? So train mine.”

“I won't work for you or steal Stella’s job. Why don’t you want her working the horses so bad? She does a damn good job.” Kayce defended her. “I know for a fact Lee wouldn’t have even bothered working with her if she didn’t have a knack for it.”

“I might need her to be in charge of the broodmares if we were to start a breeding program. That’s a full time job itself, let alone having to worry about breaking them. But you know what?” John waved his hand dismissively. “Just take the horse back. I don't want him.”

“The horse is me saying I'm sorry.” Kayce said quietly.

“You don't have anything to be sorry for!”

“I should've been there sooner.” Kayce paused looking at the ground. “I shouldn't have been there at all.”

“You gotta stop looking backwards, son.”

“I'll fix the horse for you. Ain't no gift if you can't ride him, but I won't let you pay me.” Kayce agreed.

“Yeah.” John scoffed. “That's a good deal for everybody but you.” He walked off and left Kayce to ponder their conversation. Kayce wound his way to Stella. She could help him out with Tank.

She smiled at him. “Hey, you,” she said gently budging his arm. “Welcome home, Vigilante.”

“Hey.” Kayce scolded her and gave her a look. “You got a minute?”

Stella made a face. “Yeah, I’m free as a bird right now. What’s up?”

“Let’s go get Tank.” He made a face back at her. “That’s what you named him, right?”

“Yes, actually.” She laughed, pleased that he remembered. “Today was supposed to be his off day. He might be pissed.”

“Well dad wants me to work on him with you.”

“Oh? Does he think I’m not doing it right?” Stella looked frowned.

“No, I just think he’s worried about you not having Lee to bounce off of.”

“I’m guessing he decided against giving me the position, huh? Sending you to tell me was smart on his part though.” She huffed. “Makes it sting a little less.”

“I think he’s got something up his sleeve for you. Don’t get bummed out yet.” Kayce patted her shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s go get that stallion.”

Stella watched Kayce while he trotted around the round pen with Tank. He looked pleased. That must have meant she’d done something right. ‘Not good enough for John to keep you in the position though,’ the nasty little voice in the back of her mind surfaced.

Footsteps crunched through gravel behind Stella. Looking over her shoulder she could see it was Monica and Tate. “Hey y’all.”

“So how is he?” Monica asked.

“The horse, or Kayce?”

Monica snorted a laugh. “Both, I guess.”

“Well, I thought Tank was doing just fine. Not so sure about how John feels though.” Stella tapped the fence. “Kayce? He seems alright. Quieter than normal, but I think being here does that to him.”

Monica and Kayce smiled at each other. Monica questioned. “Didn't buck you off?”

Kayce trotted over to the women. “There ain't nothing wrong with this horse. Stella’s done just fine.” He smiled at his best friend. “I'm gonna wash him up and get out of here.”

Tate interrupted. “But Grandpa said we can stay the night.”

Kayce looked like he was about to object, but Monica interrupted. “Look, he got no sleep last night.” Monica interrupted. “If we go home, he wonders where his cousins are. I just need to recharge so I can have that conversation.”

John walked up. “Tate, you're staying in the main house with me. You two take the trapper cabin. Give your minds a vacation for a night.” He pivoted on his heel. “Tate! Tate, come on.”

Stella smiled at the couple. “Y’all have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t!” She scurried off to the bunkhouse.

Walking in, everything got quiet. Stella’s hand remained on the door, her eyes wide as she looked around. “Shit don’t everyone talk at once now.” There was a man here she wasn’t familiar with. Her brother was here, so she didn’t feel too threatened. “I know I’m not supposed to be in here, but I’m gonna make it quick. I promise.”

The man in the rounded cowboy asked. “Who’s this?” He sauntered over to Stella in the kitchen.

She could practically hear her brother steaming from across the room. Ryan bored a hole into the back of the man’s head, challenging him. “That is someone you’ll be leaving alone, Walker.”

The man, Walker, tipped his hat at Stella with a charming smile. “Walker ma’am. Who might you be?”

She barked out a laugh. “Pfft, I’m Stella. Ryan’s sister. Resident horse hand.”

“Well it’s mighty nice to see a pretty face around here.”

Stella stood there speechless. She couldn’t do anything but stare at him. Stella’s brows pulled together. Ryan’s shoulders dropped with a feeling of dread. He thought she was falling for his thick layer of charm.

She looked left and right, behind her and past Walker. “I don’t know who you mean, but sure. I just work with the horses, my guy.” Everyone chuckled and she weaved her way around to her brother and Colby.

Walker asked from behind her, “do you stay here?”

“No, thank god. I mean sometimes, but I have my own house.” She let out a groan while she seated herself in Ryan’s bunk.

Colby cut in. “That means you’re not invited.”

“Okay, okay I get it. Off limits.” Walker receded his advances.

Stella watched as all the men in the room hawked the new guy. She smirked, mostly to herself, knowing they would jump him if he batted an eyelash at her wrong. It wasn’t necessary. Walker’s gesture was appreciated and made her feel like she could still have the ability to get a man. If she went out on the town and didn’t work her life away, that is. Walker smirked back at her. ‘Ooo I smell that trouble from a mile away.’ She smirked again at her thought.

Ryan decided to change the subject. “Stell, what did you mean when you said you’re not supposed to be in here?”

Her lips folded together as she looked to the ground. “Well you see,” she cut herself off with the glare Ryan gave her. “So Rip found out about me trying to fight Fred. I’m banned for however long he decides since I broke the rules.”

Ryan sighed, but knew nothing could be done. Rip’s word was final usually. He zeroed in on the new guy. “You play that guitar?”

“No,” Walker scoffed. “I just like to drag this fսckin’ thing around.” He propped the guitar case up on his knee. “Why, y'all want to hear one?” No one answered him. “Yeah, I guess you do.” Strumming a few chords to check the tune, he asked everyone, “happy or sad?”

Stella called out to him. “Happy.”

Walker gently pulled out his guitar and fiddle with the tuning for a minute. He cleared his throat and began to sing.

Monica leaned back against the cabinet and smiled at her husband. “I wonder how many poor farm girls you snuck into this cabin.” Kayce sat up straight to listen to her. “I can just see you now in your shaggin’ shirt, wooing some lovestruck blonde.” She watched Kayce stand up. “Or maybe you brought Stella here.”

“What is a shaggin’ shirt? And if you mean to escape the crazy that is my family and our wranglers? Have a place to sleep so the adults didn’t know we took forever to come home? Yes. Never like how you’re meaning though.”

“You know, it's your fanciest shirt, your get-the-girl shirt. The one you never work in.” Monica straightened herself. “And come on, you can’t tell me that you and Stella never messed around with the idea.”

“I don't know if I own a shirt that I've never worked in.” He busied himself, not wanting to talk about his best friend and the things they may or may not have done as stupid young kids. “And no, I don't think we did.”

“I'm trying to remember what I was wearing when I met you.” She changed the subject.

Kayce smirked. “All I remember was you weren't wearing it for long.”

“You think it's selfish, keeping Tate from a life like this?”

Kayce’s jaw tightened. “That sounds like my father.”

“It is.” Monica admitted.

“He has a life like this. It's just simpler.”

“It's not simple anymore, Kayce.” Monica argued.

“I thought we were forgetting tonight.”

“I'm just having a conversation.” Kayce stalked away to the bedroom. He closed the door with force. Monica yelled out. “Well, I guess the conversation's over!”

Stella was just about half asleep on Ryan’s bunk when the door opened and startled her. She sat up and blinked heavily. Rip and Lloyd were calling for the new guy. Rip discovered her sitting in the back. He fixed her with a look.

Her eyes found her brother and he smiled warmly at her. “Good mornin’ sunshine.”

“Hey doofus. I think I’m gonna head out, okay?” She started to work her way to the edge of the mattress.

“You sure you're not too tired?”

“Yeah I’ll be alright.”

He gave her a stern look. “Okay, but you text me the second you get home.”

She hopped down off his bunk and gave him a quick squeeze. “Yes mom.” She smirked. She grabbed her keys off the kitchen counter. Rip grabbed her arm gently to stop her.

“I thought I told you to stay out of the bunkhouse for a while?”

“You did and I heard you. I came to talk to my brother before I left. I’m leaving right now, okay?”

Rip remained silent as he observed her. Stella stared up at him. Her eyebrows tightened and her face fell into an annoyed resting face.

“I’m leaving now.” Stella emphasized and weaved around Rip and headed off to her car to make the journey home.

[turtledotjpeg]

(chapter 400 spoilers)

i have been fed and i must make stupid internet doodles about it

my wife is so successful and popular (said with distress) and she is doing her best and she just wanted to do healing and said 'noooo' to murders and she cried about kacho and hates being called old and kurapika is the only one she can rely on and i'm gonna cry

more thoughts (not interesting) under the cut because this is an art blog but I am compelled to yell into the void about this chapter

man I was ready to be happy just to see Melody for one panel, but there was So Much in this chapter 🥺 feels like we're getting to see some new facets of her personality (see: Old Maid Melody lmaoo) and it's so fun

it was nice to see her and Kacho getting to interact a bit more openly - for some reason I was expecting nen-Kacho to be more of a separate entity, rather than the "brought back to life" kind of deal where she basically feels and acts like she's the same person? I like it though, I want to see her messing with Melody some more lol

I was wondering if Kurapika's goal might come up re: the fourth prince's invitation, but it seems like the immediate concern with Fugetsu takes priority, which makes sense Zhang Lei also wanting a private audience is interesting, I wonder if that could give her and Kurapika an opportunity to meet up and plan things out before she visits terrorsandwich? Before all that, though, they'd have to deal with Benjamin (assuming it's a first-rank-first-served kind of deal), no idea how that's gonna work out unless they actually pull off the Just Murder Everyone plan

also lmaooo the love confession 😂 one the one hand I feel like all her initial suspicion and mistrust towards glasses guy has to be a setup for him to actually be more honest than she expects, but I still can't help being a bit skeptical of him... both because there has to be something going on with the heartbeat thing, right?

and also, even if it is probably what's most practical for the situation, I'm not toootally sure if I love this "stop being sad and go use your powers to help us do murders" thing lol (granted kacho was very on board with both of those, too, but. idk man, maybe at least try to comfort her a little or something? xD)

that said, he is kind of risking his neck to help them, and i Am extremely in favor of anyone and everyone being in love with melody, so i appreciate him for that haha

okay, totally baseless "theory" #1: he's melody's dead sonata friend possessing the body (& therefore lying about the not believing in ghosts thing) - probably unlikely given Fugetsu is also said to be "possessed" and that looks very different, plus it sounds like that's something Melody should be able to notice? but it'd give him a genuine motive to help her out while lying through his teeth about all the details

or totally baseless theory #2: he's literally just a normal guy with a medical condition

melody: but I just don't get it, HOW can your heartbeat be so calm and steady all the time?!? kaiser: oh, cause of the pacemaker you mean? melody:

(**based on about 2 minutes of research I don't think that's quite how pacemakers work, but it's hxh universe, there could be Something)

(on an unrelated note, I also really liked Tyson in this chapter…sounds like she was basically pressured into a death battle she assumes she won't win, but she's still just out here baking birthday cakes and trying to have a good time :( rootin for her)

...and finally can I just say, even if there was a good reason for it, I think it's hilarious that Melody's reaction to someone liking her is just "hmm... 🤔 kinda sus" alternative responses to "i love you": "with a heart rhythm as precise as an atomic clock?! yeah right!"

[vodika-vibes]

LOL FOX HAS MADE A DISCOVERY 😂 meanwhile PA is just like 🤨🤔

Oh yeah and now Fox gotta break em out & rescue Obi-wan and that photographer too 🤷‍♀️

Poor Yuu is like, "What's happening right now? Why is he being weird?" For all of their bluster, they're kind of innocent, lol

"Isn't this the security room, Foxy?" You ask as you tug on his arm and point to an unlabeled door. "Good eye, Yuu." He opens the door and motions for them to hurry into the room, before he follows them in and shuts the door behind him. You immediately slide into a seat and activate one of the systems, "Um...it looks like they just shut security down from in here, rather than disabling the cameras-" "Works in our favor," Fox replies as he leans over their shoulder, "What do you see?" "Uhm..." You flip through the various cameras, "Ah! Here. My friend is in the prisons-" "Brig, not prisons." Fox corrects absently, as he glances at the monitor, "She looks safe, so she can sit tight for now. Where's the General?" You flip though the cameras some more, "Um...he's here, on the...the bridge?" "That is the bridge, yes." Fox replies with a slightly amused smile, "Why isn't he fighting back? Do you know, Yuu?" "At first it was because they had hostages, but I think they gave him suppressors." You admit. And then you look down at the monitor in front of you, "Uh...Foxy?" "What's wrong?" "The security room is being hacked from outside the ship." One of the screens goes fuzzy, and then Cody's face appears on it, "Fox." He looks and sounds apoplectic, "I am going to kill you." "Get over it, vod." Fox replies, sounding bored in the face of his brother's ire, "I have Yuu, and I know where General Kenobi and the Photographer are." Cody blinks, "You have-?" You poke your head up so Cody is able to see you in the camera and you wave at him. "...Hello Yuu," He pinches the bridge of his nose, "Fine. I'm still going to kick your ass, but since you're already on board, tell me what you know."