#i first thought she would be at a club or a bar or somewhere with drinks but

[beatrixutoniumx]

✫⌒ open starter

location: anywhere

“hey, uh, not to intrude in your personal bubble space —“ beatrix gestured around them, “— but i’m kinda getting the vibe that you’re not ... 100% awesome, right now? also you’re on my jacket,” she pointed.

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - A LITTLE GAME

A/N: New Wolverine one-shot. I tried and... I don't know. I like the beginning and then it's like.. okay? Let me know your thoughts.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: I have decided not to give proper warnings. I don't want to spoil the story. BUT please, only 18+. Minors DNI.

Words: 4000+

Important note: HughJackman!Wolverine (so he's tall!)

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - A LITTLE GAME

Everyone was looking for her - Magneto’s brotherhood, the X-men, the Avengers and god knows who else. They all wanted her - for good, for bad, to use or to kill. She became the biggest threat in a matter of seconds. That’s why Logan had to be the one to find her first.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her for months. She was sneaky, using her power to hide from the whole world, even from him. Leaving the continent would be too risky. She had to stay in the States, right? Maybe Canada? 

It all happened so fast. There was a moment where he questioned everything. In the end, he wanted to fight for her… with her. Was there still a chance he’d find her? She could be anywhere. Surprisingly, Logan never lost hope. 

One day, Logan got a tip from some random skanky woman who approached him in a New York dive bar. He was drinking his daily dose of whisky, head lost in thoughts. He had her picture, looking at it. Such an innocent yet powerful being. His heart ached.

“I know her,” the woman approached him out of nowhere. She leaned against the bar, smiling. Her eyes were locked on the photo. “Pretty girl.” 

Logan’s eyes found hers, frowning. “Where is she?” he asked angrily. 

She chuckled. “Now hang on, sugar,” she sat next to him, exposing her long smooth legs. The miniskirt didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Logan’s eyes travelled from her legs, all the way up to her face, but he was not interested. “How about a drink first?”

He reached for his drink. It went down his throat in a second. He smashed the glass against the bar, shattering it. His eyes darkened. The adamantium claws got out, pressing them against the woman’s throat. Logan was not in a mood to play around.

People gasped. They were afraid. A mutant in a bar threatening other humans was unacceptable. Guns were loaded and pointed at him. Logan didn’t care. 

The woman yelped. Fear crept into her eyes. “Tell me where she is or you won’t be able to see the sun rise again,” his voice was low, intimidating. 

“S-strip club, down the street,” she managed to get out of her throat. Her body was visibly shaking. “I saw her there. She was there an hour ago. P-please, don’t hurt me.” 

He didn’t say anything. The claws retracted back under his skin. Logan was out of the bar in seconds, heading down the street to the club where the woman said she spotted the one he was looking for. His heart beat fast. Was he finally about to get her? It’s been months. 

Everyone wanted the most powerful mutant on the planet. Some wanted to use her, others wanted to destroy her. Logan wanted to get to her sooner than the rest of the world. All he desired was to protect her.

She’s more powerful than Jean ever was, said Charles to him not long ago. They didn’t have a name for her. No one knew where her power reached, or what her limits were. Jean’s dark side was destroyed with the help of the Scarlett Witch. With Y/N, they didn’t know what to expect. Was she worse than the Dark Phoenix? 

Expect the unexpected, said Charles to Logan once he decided to bring her back.

Logan’s eyes locked on the big pink neon sign of the strip club. He sighed. Of course, she would hide somewhere in plain sight. Who would try to find a woman like her in a place like this? She was the kindest teacher. Innocence was her second name. Everyone would expect her to flee the country, or hide in the mountains. No, she hid under their noses in the city that never sleeps.

Expect the unexpected. Well, shit, he didn’t expect this at all. 

He entered the club. The heavy smell of cigarettes and sweet perfumes hit his nose. The lights were flashing as the girls kept dancing around the poles. They slowly undressed for the crowd of hungry eyes. Men were holding bills in their hands, roaring and whistling, ready to throw them at the women.

Drinks were poured into glasses and onto women’s exposed breasts. Some wished to lick them, to feel their flesh and alcohol on their tongues. 

Some ladies brushed their hands against Logan’s shoulders and arms to get his attention. The fake smiles and lustful gazes did nothing for him. They talked to him and tried to seduce him. He remained focused on his goal. His eyes travelled around the place, trying to glimpse Y/N. 

Flashes of images hit his mind. He remembered it all - the laughs, the drinks, the simple days back in the X-mansion. The day when their lips first touched, he knew he was a goner. 

Logan huffed, anger rising inside of him. Would she sell her body to all those creeps in here? Would she dance for them to make money? The thought of other men touching her body made his blood boil. Logan was sure that if he saw a man touching a piece of Y/N’s skin, he would slice his arm with his claws. 

There was no sign of her. Was the woman from the bar lying to him? Was this a trap? Logan’s fists clenched. He had to be careful. Even a place like this could be dangerous. God knows who’d own this place. 

Somewhere in the haze, he noticed the familiar eyes watching him. Their colours sparkled in the flashing lights. She was like a goddess, walking around the mist and colours with her long satin robe flying around her. Logan could smell her from afar. The scent was overpowering his senses. 

One blink, she was gone. Was he hallucinating? He sighed. His mind had to be playing tricks on him. Or was it her?

Logan.

Her voice rang in his ears. He could smell her more as if she was closer than before. Logan’s body twisted and turned, trying to find her in the crowd. He was sure she was here, watching him like a hawk. 

There was a lingering touch on his shoulder. It moved from one side of the shoulder to the other, fingers lightly pressed against his flannel shirt. He could feel the electric touch that belonged to her. 

 “Y/N,” he breathed her name. No one would be able to hear him over the loud music. “Stop the games.” 

He heard a group of women laugh. His eyes moved to them. They gave lap dances to some businessmen. Their hands were all over their bodies.  

Again, his nose caught Y/N’s scent. It was so close, closer than before. When his eyes looked forward, he could see her in her full glory. He cursed. Was he supposed to be aroused or upset?

First, he noticed the exposed legs and high heels on her feet. Then there was the dazzling dress that hugged her curves perfectly. Her breasts were about to pop out of that damn outfit. And then there was the damn satin robe. Fuck! Her dress was provocative. Compared to the other strippers, Y/N was wearing more than the rest of the ladies in the club. 

What happened to the woman who radiated pure innocence? This was someone else, someone new. Did she have a dark side that decided to wake up from its slumber?

Still, his jeans felt tighter than before. 

His legs moved towards her. Logan got through the dancing women who tried to reach for him some more. They wanted a piece of him. When was the last time a man like him walked into a place like this? His eyes and mind were only on one woman. 

“Don’t run,” he said to himself. He knew Y/N would hear his words. 

Logan knew the game wasn’t over when he heard laughter inside his head. He was close until he wasn’t. She was gone once again. “Dammit, Y/N. Stop this.” 

Again, he felt a pair of hands on his shoulder. This time they pushed him down. His ass ended on something soft, comfortable. It was a chair. Where did that come from? 

“Want a dance?” He felt a hot breath close to his ear. The touch remained. Logan knew this wasn’t a trick. She was behind him. “I can help you relax.”

Logan had enough of her shit. He swiftly grabbed her wrist, pulling her to him. He was impatient. Her face appeared in front of his. He lost his breath for a second. The red lips, the glitter in her hair… he wanted to devour her. There was a smirk plastered on her face. 

“Strip club?” Logan growled. “What the fuck?” 

Y/N lazily climbed on his lap, pressing her core onto his forming erection. She bit her lower lip and rested her hands on his broad shoulders. “What’s the matter, Lo’? Don’t you want to have some fun?” she titled her head, raising a brow. 

He gritted his teeth. “I’ve been looking for you for months,” he said, angry. “And I find you here? Of all places?” 

“It’s good, isn’t it?” she blinked a few times. “Who would have thought that little ol’ me would hide here?” 

His hands gripped her hips tightly. He inhaled her sweet perfume. He needed to get straight to the point before he’d lost his mind. “Why did ya run?”

Y/N glared at him. “What kind of a stupid question is that?” she pushed her body from his a little. She had to get a better look at him. “All of you turned against me. One mishap and I became the villain.” 

Y/N’s mutation evolved into something no one has ever seen before. It brought the attention of other groups that wanted her neck, or power. The Professor admitted she represented something beyond explanation. Inhuman was the word he used? It was new, dangerous. Fingers were pointed, threats had been made. Everyone pushed until she ran from the X-mansion and left everything behind. Now everyone was after her - the X-men, the Avengers and Magneto. Fuck, she even heard that the government wanted her. God knows how many organisations and bounty hunters were trying to get her. Rewards were made. The numbers had seven figures or more. 

Logan’s eyes widen. One of his hands sneaked behind her neck, pulling her closer to him. “I didn’t.”

“Fuck, right,” she rolled her eyes. “When you found out what I could do, you stepped away. I can remember the betrayal in your eyes. Or was it fear? Were you afraid, Logan?” her nose brushed against his. “Were you scared of me or this?” she pointed between them. And then, she pushed away from him. 

His right hand gripped Y/N’s hair and pulled on it, exposing her neck. Logan pressed his nose to it, inhaling her sweet scent. “Don’t ever say shit like that,” he threatened. “I was never scared of what was going between us.” 

Y/N moved her head and pressed her lips to his ear. “Or did you realise you still wanted Jean?” She hit a sensitive spot. There was a history between Jean and Logan. Y/N knew damn well nothing ever happened between them. The redhead’s eyes were only on Scott. And yet, she had to dig into it. 

Logan’s hand moved to her neck, squeezing it. He made her look at him. Even in the dim lights, his eyes darkened. He hated those words that had escaped those pretty red lips. “Stop it,” he growled. “You mean more to me than she ever did.”

Y/N rolled her hips slowly, grinding on his noticeable bulge. Logan moaned with every movement she did. The grip on her throat never loosened. With the flashing lights and changing colours, the tension between them thickened. 

“You are lying,” she challenged him. 

He squinted at her. “You know damn well I don’t lie, princess.” 

Y/N grabbed him by his stupid flannel shirt from all the irritation. “You never reached for me after everything that went to shit!” 

“You destroyed a skyscraper in New York,” he told her with a calmer tone. “A fucking skyscraper. Your mutation evolved with a snap of the fingers. No wonder the shock, the fear or everyone’s need to get their hands on you.” Logan pulled her face closer to his. Their lips almost touching. “Before I could collect my thoughts, process what the fuck had happened and get to you, you ran away.” 

She squinted at him. “You pulled away from me,” she blamed him. 

“I didn’t,” he tightened the grip on her throat. She moaned. “I’ve been looking for you for months - months! You think I’d do that if I pulled away? Do you think I’d pick Jean over you? Don’t think so little of me, princess.” 

A rain of flashing lights started. Logan had the perfect chance to see her face. The red lips, the sparkle in her eyes. He saw the whole universe in them. 

“Why here?” he had to ask. “Of all places, why did you hide here?” 

She showed him her bright smile. “You’d never expect a good girl hiding in a place like this. It kinda worked.” 

And then she snapped her fingers. The people around them stopped moving. They became living statues. The music kept going, the lights still flickered and changed. Logan’s eyes widened. His head moved from side to side. Powerful, that’s what Y/N was. And beautiful. Sexy. Dangerous. Good. Her heart was still good. He had to believe.

Waves of anger flashed through his body. It was still a play. If she wanted to play, he would obey - under his rules. “Tell me, baby girl,” the hand from her throat slid down to her breasts. The other hand joined. They squeezed them through the fabric. It made her hips roll some more. “Did you let any of the guys here touch you?” he tilted his head. 

Her head tilted back as she enjoyed his big hands on her chest. His nose found her pulse on her neck, pressing his lips to it. He sucked a mark on her neck. “Baby girl, you are mine and only mine,” he growled into her ear. 

“What makes you think I’m yours?” she tried to fight back.

“If I was anyone else, you’d use all your powers to get rid of me. Maybe even kill me. You didn’t,” he stated.

“I’d never kill anyone for fun, Logan,” she said. “You know that damn well.” She leaned closer to his face. “I’d never hurt you.” 

Their lips met in a kiss that brought colours to their minds. Each colour represented a different plea. I miss you. I need you. I want you. I love you. It was messy, it was sweet. Their tongues danced and explored. It was needy, it was deep. It’s been months since they last shared a passionate kiss. 

It brought tears to Y/N’s eyes. As much as she wanted to be strong, in front of him, she couldn’t. He was like a home she never had. Her heart ached that she had to leave him. But what was there to do when they all turned against her? She believed Logan did too. 

Logan felt he was falling. Everything around him felt light. And then his back fell onto something soft. The chair under his ass was gone. He grunted, breaking the kiss. There was a bed under his body. “What the shit?” he was confused. “Where are we?” 

“Champagne room,” said Y/N who sat on top of him, still fully clothed. The only thing missing was the satin robe. “For some privacy.” 

He raised a brow. “And here I thought you’d wanted to give those living statues a show.” That’s when he heard laughter from behind the walls. The people were moving again. 

Y/N’s thumb swiped over Logan’s lips. They were stained from the red lipstick she wore. Before she retracted it, he pressed a kiss to it. “Since when did you learn to teleport?” he asked. “Last time I checked, you didn’t know how to do half of what you did today.” 

“Just a mind trick, no teleportation,” she said. 

Logan wrapped his arms around her waist and abruptly jumped on his feet. He held her tightly until he smashed her back against the nearest wall. She lost her breath for a moment. “I’m not fucking you on that disgusting bed. God knows how many people fucked on it before us.” 

“Shame,” she shrugged. “I thought you liked it dirty.” Y/N’s legs clenched around his waist. 

Logan’s lips were back on hers in a hungry kiss. When one of his hands reached down to her covered heath, she moaned into his mouth. “There’s the pretty sound,” he chuckled. His lips moved to her neck where he kissed and nibbled on her skin until he left another mark there. That’s when his fingers found the strap of her thong, ripping it off her in one harsh pull. 

He looked into her eyes, grinning like a devil. “I can feel how wet you are for me, pretty girl.” His middle finger had buried deep inside of her. “Did other men make you this wet?” 

Y/N whined. “I’d never let any other man touch me, Logan,” she confessed. 

He tilted his head. This time, two fingers slipped inside of her, fucking her with them. “Then why hide in a strip club?” He curled his finger, hitting a sweet spot. 

“Ah! I knew no one would ever come looking for me here,” she gasped every time his fingers brushed against the place that made her toes curl. “Fuck, fuck!” 

“Is that so?” he kept questioning her.

She tried to swallow the moans. “I’ve protected the girls from the perves,” she cried. 

“God, you are dripping.” His fingers left her core and went straight to his mouth, tasting her. “Pretty princess, you taste divine,” he smirked. Immediately, his lips pressed against her in a messy kiss. 

His body pressed hers even more onto the wall as one of his free hands went to his jeans to get out his painfully hard dick. He pressed the tip against her entrance, pushing it slowly in. 

“Ah, shit,” she cursed. Her mouth was wide open as she felt every inch of him. 

Once he bottomed out, his lips kissed her gently. “Taking my cock like the good girl you are,” he praised. 

“Logan,” she moaned his name. “Please, fuck me.” 

He pulled out slowly, leaving just the tip in. “Since you asked so nicely,” and he thrust back into her, making her squeal. She clenched around his cock with every move he made. “Doing so good, princess,” he praised her. “Taking me so well.”

It was fast, intense. Before she knew it, Y/N felt her orgasm approaching. One of his hands was already between their bodies, circling her clit. “Fuck, so close,” she mumbled incoherently. “Logan… Logan, please…” 

“Hold it, Y/N,” he ordered. “I’m almost there too.” 

“I… c-can’t,” she whined. Tears appeared in her eyes. The pleasure was surprisingly intense. Many feelings wanted to burst out into the open. Their lips pressed together in a sloppy kiss. He kept pounding into her as they tried to swallow each other’s moans.

What if this was for the last time? What if this would be their goodbye?

Her insides clenched around his cock as she reached her peak. Her breath quickened. She became a moaning mess while he kept fucking her through her orgasm. 

“I’m gonna fill you up, pretty girl,” he announced, staring into her eyes. His breath got lost as the release came, painting the insides of her walls white. The thrusts slowed down until he remained buried inside of her while his cum slowly dripped down his dick. 

Logan’s eyes found hers in a post-orgasmic haze. “So pretty,” he grinned. He watched as she tried to catch her breath. “My beautiful baby girl.”

Slowly, he pulled out of her. Y/N gasped once she felt empty. Carefully, Logan pulled her from the wall and put her legs on the floor. He held her tightly. “Fuck,” she cursed. 

“You good?” he asked. 

Her eyes lifted, meeting his. She smiled at him. “Yes,” she nodded. 

Logan put back his jeans while she fixed her already short, slutty dress. There was silence. With each passing second, it got heavier and more awkward. 

“I love you,” Logan confessed his feelings. One of his hands reached for her cheek, stroking it with a thumb. “I love you, princess. Goddammit, I fucking love you.” 

Her eyes kept scanning his face. These words were never said before. This was new. Y/N’s heart wanted to burst from Logan’s confession. Now that he reciprocated the feelings, she knew she’d do anything for him. 

“Come with me, please. I don’t want you to stay here, of all places,” he frowned. Even though they fucked in a strip club, he wasn’t fond of it.

She sighed. “Everyone wants to get me, Logan,” she said sadly. “Once I leave, the hunt will begin - the Brotherhood, the Avengers, the government. I can’t go back to X-mansion. That’s the first place they’ll check. I can’t endanger the kids.” 

This is what he was looking for. She was still a good woman. “So staying in a strip club is better?” he questioned. “Or are you trying to say you don’t want to be with me? Is that it?” 

Her eyes widen, mouth open. “What? No, no,” she grabbed his big hands, holding them tightly. “I love you, Logan. The only thing I want is to be with you. How can I do that when the world is against me?” 

“You are the most powerful mutant on this planet,” he said. “You can do anything you put your mind to.”

“And that makes me dangerous,” she stated. “Fuck, I put down a whole skyscraper with my powers. It was not my intention to do it, but it happened. People were hurt while I tried to save them. Fuck, Logan, the United Nations are now questioning whether mutants can be trusted again. It’s all my fault.” 

Logan shook his head, not wanting to accept she wouldn’t leave this place. He had to take her home, where she belonged. The school needed her. Everyone in the X-mansion was worried about her. “Baby,” Logan’s arm sneaked around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “We’ll figure something out. I won’t let any of those fuckers take you away from me. I’ll do everything to keep you safe and protected.” 

Her eyes sparkled with tears. “Oh, Logan,” her hand reached for his face, fingers grazing the mutton chops. She chuckled a little. “You are the only man who can pull this off,” she winked at him. “It suits you.” 

“So, what do ya say? Come home with me. That’s where you belong.” 

“Promise me this, Logan - you’ll be on my side, no matter what happens. Please, promise me this,” she pleaded. “Because, genuinely, I am terrified. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I will if someone tries to get to those I love.” 

He could see it was important to her, to have someone standing by her no matter what. “I promise, princess,” he kissed her knuckles gently. “Fuck, if I could, I would promise you the world.” 

How could this grumpy, dangerous man be such a sweetheart to her? It made her knees weak. He was in love and so was she. “Quick question, how will we get back to X-mansion?” 

Logan licked his lips. “I have a bike parked at a bar where a woman gave me a tip you work here,” her winked at her. 

She made a face. “Yeah, Wendy, she texted me about you,” Y/N winked at him. “I’m mad that you wanted to kill her.”

“Fuck her,” he growled. “Did she write you she was hitting on me?” he raised a brow. 

A simple glare was the answer he needed. “So, does that mean you’ll come with me?” 

“Yes,” she nodded. 

His lips crashed with hers in a loving kiss. Logan’s arms wrapped around her waist, hugging her tightly. “That’s good, baby. Also,” he pressed his lips to her ear. “That little game you played with me when I arrived - hot.” 

Y/N smiled. “It wasn’t planned. I needed to find out your true intentions.” 

“Through the art of seduction?” 

“Something like that.” 

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 5. first date

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You are left picking up the pieces from the events of the carnival night, in more ways than you expected.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, jealousy, domestic violence and implied SA (nothing descriptive), mental and physical abuse, bar-fight type violence

WC: 6.8K

A/N: This is a tough chapter, please heed the warnings and if anyone thinks I need to add anything, please let me know

Series Masterlist

You stared listlessly at the blades of the ceiling fan swirling above your head as you listened to the town waking up outside your window. It was getting harder and harder to force yourself out of bed, the all too familiar feeling of emptiness weighing you down with each passing day.

It's been almost a week since that night at the carnival. Almost a week since you've seen him. You wished you could remember what his lips felt like, but whenever you thought about that night, all you could see was the look on his face when you finally told him the truth. His hands dropped from your waist like you had burned him. His eyes hardened like you had slapped him. And before you even had a chance to explain, he was gone.

It was a miracle you were able to make it home, tears clouding your vision as you drove down the quiet streets back to your little apartment, all alone. At first, you had tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, but after an hour, you weren't so sure anymore. So, you picked up your phone and called him. You weren't even sure what you would say, but you needed to try to make things right. It didn't end up mattering, anyway. He never answered, which should have been telling for what was to come, but you still persisted.

You called him two more times - once more that night, and again the following morning, but still he ignored your calls. Now, you stared at your phone, looking at the unanswered texts you sent, hoping he would be tempted to respond that way, but there was no such luck.

Please call me back, I want to explain.

I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.

Where are you?

The last text was sent Monday afternoon when he didn't show up at the diner for the first time since you started. Even Betty looked shocked, but you wouldn't tell her what happened. How could you?

The rest of the week was the same. Every day you glanced up at the door, hoping to see his familiar frame walk through, hoping that maybe enough time would have passed for him to give you another chance, but all week he was missing.

You overheard Tommy talking with Maria in the kitchen, asking if she had seen his brother. Was he doing this to make things worse for you? Inevitably, the truth would come out if he kept this up, and you would be left to deal with the onslaught of questions. Was he purposely trying to hurt you?

Little did you know, later that evening you would receive your answer.

It was Friday, and you were on the schedule for the dinner shift. At least you had the luxury of laying in bed, sulking with only your overpowering guilt and the enormous stuffed penguin he won for you to keep you company. You stared at it now, wondering why you didn't shove it in your closet so you wouldn't have to look at it every time you walked into your room. But you knew the answer. You were punishing yourself for being selfish, for being dishonest, for being a horrible person who deserved what she got.

Eventually around noon, you pulled yourself out of bed, hunger getting the best of you and the smells from the pizza place downstairs didn't help matters.

You got a reminder on your calendar that you were supposed to go to book club tomorrow night. Aside from work, you hadn't left your apartment all week. You had to cancel. There was no way you would be able to go through with it. You could barely muster the energy to shower, and the only reason you managed to drag yourself to work was for the money. No longer did you have anything to look forward to now that Joel made his feelings crystal clear with his absence. What little enjoyment you had in this new life was long gone.

Deciding that you should take a short walk to try to clear your head and grab a treat from the coffee shop, you tugged on jeans and a T-shirt before pulling your hair back and grabbing a pair of sunglasses before heading down the stairs. At least with the sunglasses you could avoid eye contact.

Right as you were locking up after yourself, you heard your name. You grimaced but turned around and forced a smile when you saw Hailey approaching with a friendly wave.

"Hey," you said, giving her a small hug when she got closer.

"I haven't seen you all week! Have you been sick or something?"

"Something like that," you mumbled, adjusting your sunglasses.

"I've been trying to catch you, I wanted to show you some pics from last weekend. You were there, right? I thought I saw you tagged in something," Hailey said as she scrolled on her phone, presumably looking for pictures she took from the carnival.

"Tagged?" you repeated, confused. She nodded and held up her phone, showing you the Facebook app. You shook your head and frowned.

"I'm not on Facebook," you said to her. She pursed her lips and swiped through a few images before finally stopping on a video. It was terrible lighting and the sound was awful but you could clearly see the yellow dress you were wearing as you watched Joel play the target game. Even from the shitty video you could see the obvious attraction in your eyes as you gazed at him. A chorus of cheers followed after each pull of the trigger, but your eyes remained glued to Joel's back, frozen in place.

"Isn't this your page?" she asked, clicking on your name and showing you the profile. You took the phone from her with shaky hands, scrolling through the information and pictures listed. It was you. Everything listed was correct, but you never created this page. You wouldn't have been that stupid. Then the realization hit you and your blood ran cold.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and went back to the video, noticing at the top the location was tagged along with you, Joel, and a few other people from town you barely recognized.

"Oh my god," you whispered to yourself.

"What's wrong?"

You handed her the phone back, tears burning the back of your eyes.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go," you said, turning back around to fumble with your keys. You raced up the stairs, making sure both doors were double locked before hiding in your bedroom, your phone clutched in your hand as you looked up your fake profile, trying to learn more but you already knew.

Patrick was coming for you.

You were downright terrified to work that night. If he found you, and it was just a matter of time at this point, he most likely would wait until you were alone. He would wait until he could follow you, find out where you lived, and only then would he make his move. The idea of walking home at night seemed like a really bad idea, so even though it was a ten minute walk, you chose instead to drape yourself in an oversized hoodie with sunglasses and jog to your car, glancing nervously around the parking lot for any suspicious vehicles before sliding into the driver's seat.

Anxiously, you checked your mirrors the whole short drive to the diner, but it didn't appear that you were being followed. You knew once you got to work, you would be safe. Being around other people was your only defense. Then you had the weekend off, so you could hide and figure out what to do. All you had to do was get through your shift.

The diner was busy. It was Friday, and the carnival was no longer in town, so people were going back to their regular routines. Many people in town tended to stop by for dinner before the only movie theater in town ran the 7pm showing, so that typically meant a 5:30 rush.

Fortunately, you were busy. It helped keep your mind off everything: Patrick. Joel. The mess you created everywhere you went. It was all pushed to the back of your mind as you ran around the dining room, dropping off food and wiping down tables. You hadn't even noticed the familiar voice talking to Maria at the hostess stand, even though you had been yearning to hear it all week.

You were filling the ice when you heard him somewhere behind you, and you were so relieved you almost cried. Finally, he came back and you could explain to him what happened. He was the sheriff, after all. And you trusted him. If anybody might be able to do something to help you, it was him.

You turned around with a deep breath, then froze at what you saw. Joel was seated at one of the booths, not at the counter like he typically would be, and gazing adoringly across the table at Nikki.

He was on a date.

You thought you were going to be sick. You clutched your stomach and turned away, blinking back the tears but before you could go hide in the back, Maria spotted you.

"Do you mind taking care of Joel? Gina's got too many tables," she asked. You thought you would faint the way all the blood drained from your face. All you could manage to do was nod, and she hurried back to the hostess stand, completely oblivious.

You forced your feet to move, keeping your gaze down as you pulled out your pad of paper and pen with shaky fingers and forcing a weak smile when you approached their table. You weren't sure if his intention was to have you wait on him, or if he just wanted you to see him with another woman, or maybe he didn't care about you at all. But his reaction gave you nothing to work with since he barely spared you a glance when you greeted them. However, Nikki recognized you and gave you a warm smile.

"I don't think I knew you worked here!" she said, and when Joel realized you knew each other, he finally seemed to react. A muscle in his jaw twitched when he dragged his gaze up to look between the two of you, no playfulness or warmth to be found in his eyes. You swallowed and tried to focus on your job, ignoring Joel as best you could, but Nikki spoke before you could even get the specials out.

"We know each other from book club," she explained to him before turning back to you. "Will I be seeing you tomorrow?"

"Oh, um, no I don't think so," you said nervously, feeling Joel's eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

"Oh, that's a shame! We had such a fun time last month," she said with a giggle. You had to admit, they made a good match. She was beautiful and seemed very nice. You should be happy for them both, but you knew the moment you got home, you would collapse into tears.

"You should go," Joel said gruffly, and it took all the strength you had to make yourself look at him. He no longer gave you the same look he used to, and it broke your heart. He looked at you like a stranger, like he barely even knew you. It felt more painful than anything Patrick ever did.

"Maybe I will," you said, tearing your eyes away from him. Before Nikki could say anything else, you rambled off the specials, your mind on autopilot. You ripped a hole in your paper with your pen when you saw out of the corner of your eye Nikki link her fingers with his across the table. You mumbled something about being right back and hurried off, tears welling up in your eyes.

This was too cruel. You endured a lot in your time, but this? This was too much.

As you filled up their drinks and flicked away a stray tear from the corner of your eye, you heard Joel's voice clear his throat behind you at the counter. You turned around, drinks in hand. He was leaning over the counter, trying to stay hidden from sight.

"I didn't mean for -"

"It's fine," you said coldly, staring him down. He blinked at you, and for the first time you saw a shred of guilt pass over his features. When he didn't say anything else, you shifted your weight and glanced over his shoulder at Nikki.

"You better go. Your date's looking for you."

His gaze fell and he pinched the bridge of his nose, about to say something else but you didn't let him. You could only take so much. By the time he looked back up, you were halfway across the dining room, setting down their drinks and giving your attention to your other tables.

You drove home that night with hot tears finally trailing down your cheeks, your mind completely fixated now on Joel and Nikki. It hurt how he moved on so quickly. Maybe you misread him. Maybe he was just looking for a conquest and nothing more. What else would possibly explain it? For the first time, you wondered if you were the one better off after all.

Would he kiss her goodnight? Would they have sex?

Did they already have sex?

You parked your car and hunched over the steering wheel, letting the tears flow freely now that you were home and no one was around.

A sharp rap on your window pulled you out of your misery, making you jump. You wiped your cheeks before turning to look, your eyes widening and your heart immediately getting stuck in your throat.

Patrick just shook his head in disappointment, then beckoned you out of the car with his index finger. With a shaky hand, you reached for the door handle and swung it open, sliding out of the seat and taking a deep breath. Just when you thought the day couldn't get any worse.

"When are you gonna learn I'm never gonna give up on us, babe?"

After he left, you laid there in your bed, staring up at the fan swirling above you once again and the smell of that fucking cologne permeating your sheets. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. You couldn't help but think you brought this on yourself. Maybe if you didn't go to that fucking carnival in the first place, none of this would have happened. Joel wouldn't be icing you out, Patrick wouldn't have found you, and you wouldn't be cleaning up the mess he left between your legs while you sobbed over the bathroom sink. Every time this happened you were eternally grateful for your oldest cousin back home who took you to get birth control at the local clinic behind your husband's back. If not for her, who knows how much worse things would be.

But here you were, finding yourself slipping right back into the same situation you were trying to escape. This time, he promised to go to AA and NA. He promised he would try to get better. Part of you wanted to believe him, because what other choice did you have? He would always find you. And it was encouraging he didn't insist on staying with you at your apartment, nor did he hit you. This time.

Just as you were contemplating whether or not to flee again, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. You sighed and made your way over, your body and mind exhausted, the events of the day catching up with you. You lifted your phone up and froze. Blinking a few times, you sunk down into your mattress and opened up the message.

Joel: I'm sorry about earlier

You sniffled and stared at your phone, having no idea what to say. Had he just texted you the day before, or even that morning, maybe things would have been different. You decided to ignore it for now, turning your phone on silent before crawling under the covers and trying to block out the smell.

After a fitful night's sleep, the next morning you eagerly checked your phone, hoping for another text from Joel, but you only had one from Hailey. Disappointed, you opened it up, reading her message about book club that night and who was hosting. You reluctantly agreed to go at the last minute, figuring you would at least be around people for a little while, meaning you would be safe. Besides, you wouldn't be able to avoid Nikki forever. The town was too small and you were sure everyone was already buzzing about their date last night.

You swiped back to your message with Joel, staring at the words again, wondering if you should respond. What if he wasn't alone? What if Nikki spent the night with him? You put your phone down, choosing once and for all not to reply before burying yourself under the covers again.

Going to the book club meeting was a mistake. You politely declined a glass of wine, and you regretted it about twenty minutes in when Nikki began telling the whole group about her date with Joel.

You sat there, listening to every word, each one like a stab to the heart while she told all the ladies about how chivalrous he was when he picked her up, what they talked about, what movie they saw. Every minute bringing you closer and closer to tears.

That could have been you if you had just been honest with him, or maybe just stood up for yourself once in a while instead of letting Patrick steamroll you every chance he got for the past five years.

A couple women glanced your way as Nikki spoke. You had to imagine some people saw you together at the carnival. Towards the end of the night, the heat between you was palpable, but you were pretty certain nobody saw you kiss. You did your best to look indifferent, to act like Joel was just a friend and there were no feelings there, but it was hard. At one point, Hailey asked if you were okay and you had to lie about having a headache, hoping it would explain your quiet behavior.

"It was a little strange at the end of the night, though," Nikki said, finally wrapping up her story.

"How so?" one of the older ladies asked, and you could see the flush creeping up her neck before she even spoke.

"Well, he didn't seem to take my hint about coming inside for coffee when he dropped me off. Or maybe he just didn't want to..." she said, trailing off.

"Oh please, who wouldn't want to," Hailey chimed in, making Nikki giggle. "He's probably just so rusty he wouldn't know it unless you made him a big neon sign that said 'Joel, sleep with me'."

That caused a ripple of laughter amongst the women and you took a steadying breath, already planning on announcing you needed to leave early due to your fake headache when Nikki added one more piece of interesting information.

"Yeah, maybe. But even saying good night, it felt like he didn't really want to kiss me."

"But you did kiss?" another woman asked, and she nodded.

"It was... not what I expected," she admitted, pink dusting her cheeks as she took another sip of wine for courage.

"What do you mean?" Hailey asked, and you silently thanked her for being so nosy so you didn't have to ask the same questions that kept popping up in your head.

"I don't know, I thought he would be a better kisser. It was very... boring. Like, there was no passion or excitement."

All the other women murmured to themselves in shock while you remained perfectly silent. That was most definitely not the experience you had kissing Joel.

Fortunately, they moved on from the topic of Joel shortly thereafter, and you decided to force yourself to stay until the end. Given how horrible the whole week had been, you allowed yourself to feel a little bit of hope after Nikki's comment.

He didn't want to kiss her. Maybe you could still figure out a way to fix this.

Joel groaned as he rolled over in bed and snatched his phone off the charger, glaring at the device and mentally cursing whoever texted him so fucking early on a Sunday. Then his sleep addled brain jolted awake and his heart skipped a beat, wondering if your name was going to pop up on his phone again, but he was met with instant disappointment when he saw Nikki's name instead.

That couldn't be a good sign.

He should be happy to see that Nikki texted him. Deciding to blame it on the early hour and nothing more, he moved past it and set his phone back down to read the message later. He closed his eyes and sighed. Now that he was awake, all of the turmoil from the past week came rushing back to him, always plaguing his every waking moment.

He hadn't realized how much you were hurting until he finally saw you at the diner that night. It was one of his biggest regrets, taking Nikki there. He knew what he was doing, but he did it anyway, and it hurt you. But you didn't deserve that. Even though you nearly shattered his world with your secret, you still didn't deserve it.

His intention was to try to prove he wasn't as hung up on you as he really was. That it was fine that you were married. That he could move on.

It was a little cruel to go right to Nikki. He knew she had feelings for him, and he took advantage of it, all to prove he was over you. And it wasn't even true. He couldn't stop thinking about you. And now he was going to end up hurting two women, just to protect his ego.

So he decided he would try to make it work with Nikki. She was a pretty girl, she was nice and kind. Maybe, in time, he could develop real feelings for her. But when she kissed him the other night, he felt absolutely nothing. Not like what he felt when he kissed you. And that worried him.

If he knew now what he would be missing out on, could he really be happy with someone who didn't give him a fraction of what he felt with you?

He wished more than ever that he didn't let his emotions get the best of him that night. Maybe you had a reasonable explanation. He couldn't fathom what that could be, but he should have at least heard you out. You wouldn't have intentionally hurt him. In fact, you tried to tell him, in your own way. You constantly pushed him away, kept him at arms length, but he just kept coming back for more. Was it even your fault? Did he pressure you so much that you were forced to share something you weren't ready to share?

Letting his desperation win, he picked up his phone again and checked to see if you maybe texted him back in the last five minutes. When he quickly determined you didn't, he opened up Facebook. Maybe you replied to his private message on there.

Joel didn't get nervous often. He had a steady hand, a level head, and had a knack for seeing two steps ahead. He typically had a calming presence, which fit well for his job when he was able to de-escalate situations naturally and with ease.

But today, he was nervous.

For whatever reason, you didn't respond to his text message the other night, but you did decide to respond to the Facebook message he sent at an ungodly hour in the hopes he could get through to you some other way. And by some miracle, it worked.

You had agreed to meet him for coffee and talk. It was unexpected, he thought he would have to try harder, but you were very agreeable to seeing him.

He wasn't sure what he would say exactly, but he knew he wanted to apologize sincerely and give you the opportunity to explain your situation. If not to get some closure, then to at least make going back to the diner less uncomfortable.

He took a deep breath as he raked his fingers through his hair and swung open the door of the coffee shop. He glanced around the room before his eyes fell on you: hunched over and staring down at a small cup of coffee on the table in front of you.

He took a step forward, then stopped when he saw a man with a buzz cut and a beard sit down across from you. Joel didn't recognize him and he was fairly certain he could recognize just about anybody in town at this point. Something about the way you glanced up at the man across from you set his teeth on edge. You didn't smile. You didn't laugh. You looked pale and your eyes looked tired. He watched as the two of you exchanged a few words, and based on the man's body language, the mood was tense. Then suddenly, he reached his arm out across the table to grab your wrist and you jumped, fear flickering across your face. Even from this distance, Joel could see the whites of the man's knuckles as he squeezed your delicate skin under his firm grip.

Joel's nostrils flared and his jaw clenched and before he knew it, he was marching over to your table. Your eyes flicked up when you noticed him, looking like you had seen a ghost. Your eyes widened and your lips parted as you sat back in your chair. The man you were with noticed your reaction and finally loosened his grip, and you immediately tucked your hands on your lap underneath the table. He turned around and looked up with a scowl just as Joel approached.

"Everythin' alright here?" Joel asked, staring at you. You opened your mouth to reply, but the man across from you stood up, cutting you off.

"Everything's just great, Joel," he said with a sneer. Joel tore his eyes away from you to regard the man you were with. He looked him up and down, sizing him up, before answering.

"Sorry, have we met?"

"In a way," he said, crossing his muscular arms across his chest. Joel glanced at you again, but you were just staring down at your coffee cup, refusing to look at either of them.

"Don't look at her, look at me," he said, and Joel's head snapped back around with a glare.

"Excuse me?"

That was when Joel smelled the man's cologne. The same one Sarah bought for him. The same one you told him you were sensitive to. The wheels began turning in his head as he tried to put the pieces together.

"Patrick," you said quietly, trying to calm them both down when you felt other customers giving you curious looks.

"Shut up," he growled at you, still staring at Joel. Joel stiffened, the anger building low in his stomach, but he fought to keep a clear head.

"Hey, take it easy," Joel tried to interject, but Patrick scoffed. As his anger began to rise, Joel could see his neck splotching with red and veins popping out under his reddened skin.

"Don't stand there and act like you haven't been fucking my wife!" Patrick all but shouted, pulling the attention of everyone in the coffee shop now. Joel balked and took a step back.

"You've got it all wrong, we've never-"

"Patrick, I'm not sleeping with him, get a grip!" you snapped, finally standing up from the table.

"The hell you aren't. Why's he sending you messages in the middle of the night on Facebook saying he misses you and he's sorry and he needs to see you?" Patrick asked, turning on you now.

Your jaw dropped and your cheeks flushed pink, your surprised gaze bouncing between the two men and that was when Joel figured it out. Patrick lured him there to cause a fight, and you looked to be completely in the dark.

Joel glanced around nervously at all the onlookers now, murmuring amongst themselves, gossip he was sure would spread to the ends of town before noon.

"Listen, why don't we go outside and calm down. I can explain, it's not what it looks like," Joel said, lowering his voice.

"I'm staying right here," Patrick said, sitting back down in his chair and jutting his chin out with a glare. He seemed hellbent on doing this his way, and Joel was not in the mood.

"You're disturbin' the peace. These people are tryin' to enjoy their mornin' here. Either come outside with me, or we can do this a different way," Joel replied, pulling the hem of his shirt up to flash the gold star on his belt. Patrick laughed, then leaned over to grab his wallet out of his back pocket, showing Joel his own badge.

"Philly PD. 9th precinct. Wanna try that again, sheriff?"

That bit of information stunned Joel, momentarily at a loss for words.

"Hell, honey, at least you got a type," Patrick muttered to you, putting his wallet away. You grimaced and dropped your head between your shoulders, looking defeated.

"Either way, I gotta ask you to leave," Joel said, standing his ground. He could see the flush rising up Patrick's neck again, his fingers curling into a fist on the table before you stepped to stand between the two men.

"C'mon, Patrick. Let's go," you urged, holding your hand out shakily. Patrick slowly turned his head to look up at you. There was no love in his eyes. No affection or care. All Joel could see was raw anger.

"Why don't you come down to the station with me. We can talk this out, hm?" Joel asked him calmly, not feeling comfortable letting you leave with this man. You turned your head to the side, your eyes unable or unwilling to meet his.

"I got it, Joel. I'm sorry," you said softly over your shoulder.

Joel watched Patrick stand up and mock you under his breath before snatching your hand and pulling you roughly to his side, leading you out the front door. He was scrambling to find another reason to keep you from walking out of there, but he was too late. The pair of you were already halfway down the block by the time Joel was able to gather himself and walk out the door.

He stood on the sidewalk with his hands on his hips, watching as Patrick nearly dragged you up the street. You managed to turn your head once to look at him, your eyes wide and filled with worry before you turned the corner, disappearing from sight.

Nikki was talking his ear off, all bubbly and excited as she led Joel into one of the few bars in town. A blind man could see she was trying too hard. She was the one who came up with the idea of drinks, turning down dinner beforehand, and wearing one of the shorter dresses he's seen on a woman in a long time.

He realized about half an hour into the night it must have been a real blow to her self esteem when he turned her down after their first date because she was hanging all over him, pushing her chest against him every chance she could and even encouraged him to do a shot with her. He entertained the idea once but stopped her after that. He wasn't lying when he told you he wasn't much of a drinker, and he certainly wasn't interested in having meaningless, sloppy sex with Nikki, so he tried to slow her down and distract her.

"C'mon, why don't we order you somethin' to eat?" Joel said, flagging down the bartender for a menu, but Nikki shook her head and pouted.

"I'm hungry, but not for food, Joel," she whispered in his ear, then brazenly slid her hand over his thigh to try to cup him over his jeans. His hand shot down and grabbed her wrist.

"What are you doin'?" he asked with a nervous chuckle, and she groaned, pulling her hand back to wrap her arms around his shoulders instead.

"Isn't it obvious?" she replied, leaning forward to nibble on his ear. He made a face and untangled her arms from around him, pulling her back to her own stool.

"Listen, Nikki-"

A roar of laughter and some broken glass from the other side of the crowded bar caught Joel's attention. It was a Sunday night, but it was busy. There was a big football game on above the bar and it seemed to pull in all the men in town that evening. It was no wonder Joel didn't notice Patrick until that point.

He watched him through the throngs of bodies as he stumbled around the pool table with a couple other younger men from town. He looked like he was wasted: his eyes were bloodshot, his pupils blown wide, and his face was bright pink. Nikki followed Joel's gaze and turned back to him, confused.

"Who's that?" she asked, but Joel ignored her and instead waved down the bartender again.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked, wiping his hands with a worn out rag.

"What's goin' on over there, Hank?" Joel asked, nodding in Patrick's direction, watching as he grabbed the ass of a blonde girl heading to the bathroom.

"He's been here for hours," Hank said, leaning across the bar to keep his voice as low as possible. "I started waterin' down his drinks around 5, but he keeps gettin' worse and worse. Told one of his friends there to take him outside, I think he's too far gone and won't take kindly to me askin' him to leave."

Joel nodded and continued to watch. His skin looked red and his hair looked damp with sweat.

"What's wrong?" Nikki purred in his ear, trying to get his attention back on her, but he shook his head.

"Somethin' ain't right," he mumbled.

"I think he's married to that new waitress at the diner," Hank continued. Nikki sat back in her seat and said your name, her eyes beginning to clear. Hank snapped his fingers and pointed at her.

"Yep, that's the one. Was sayin' some real god awful stuff earlier 'bout her to those guys. Now you know I hear my fair share of bawdy talk 'round here, but this was enough to even make me blush."

Joel cursed under his breath and stood up from his stool. Nikki grabbed his arm and frowned.

"Where are you going?"

"Just gonna have a talk with him," Joel said, shrugging her hand off as he pushed his way through the crowd. As Joel approached the pool table, Patrick's drunken gaze fell on him and he smirked.

"Well, look who it is boys," Patrick said, his voice too loud as he stumbled to lean against the wall. "If it ain't the sheriff of this here wild west." Patrick laughed at his own joke, but the other three men he was with quieted down when they saw Joel.

"I think you oughta head home. Seems like you've had enough this evenin'," Joel said, his voice steady.

"I don't think I like you telling me what to do," Patrick said, his smile slipping as he pushed off the wall and took a few steps forward. One of the younger men that was playing pool with Patrick set his cue down on the table and spoke up.

"Hey man, let's just head out - "

"Shut the fuck up, I'll handle this asshole," Patrick turned and yelled, causing the whole bar to go quiet. Joel took a deep breath and reached behind him for his handcuffs.

"I don't fucking think so," Patrick said, his eyes locked on Joel's hand, but Joel just shook his head.

"You ain't givin' me much of a choice," he replied, but before he could blink, Patrick reared back and swung, his meaty fist coming in direct contact with Joel's chest, momentarily knocking the air out of his lungs. Luckily, Patrick was too drunk and missed Joel's face. But Joel was still relatively sober, and therefore much quicker. He lunged forward and clocked Patrick right in the nose, making him stumble backwards clutching his face with a pained howl.

People scattered out of the way, some men calling out to Patrick, telling him to stop, but most were just encouraging the fight with drunken excitement.

Once Patrick got his bearings, he ran forward at full speed, aiming to knock Joel down to the ground but he dodged him with ease and instead sent him flying head first into an empty table. He rolled over with a groan, blood trickling from his nose, a bright purple bruise already forming under his eye.

Joel leaned over him with a grin.

"You done?"

Patrick just groaned again, his hands coming up to rub his head. Joel took the opportunity to snatch his wrist and twist him around on the floor. Pressing his knee into Patrick's back, he pulled his other arm around and handcuffed him before pulling out his cell and dialing the number for the station.

Once Joel loaded Patrick into the back of Bobby's cruiser, telling his deputy to book him and he would deal with it in the morning, the rest of the bar went back to watching the football game, the excitement now over and done with. Joel scanned around and found Nikki seated exactly where he left her, but she looked less than pleased. He sighed and pushed his way through the crowd, back to his date.

"Hey, sorry 'bout -"

"I think I'm ready to leave, Joel," she said curtly, standing up and snatching her purse from the bar.

"Alright," he said. He led her outside and was heading to his truck when she stopped in front of a waiting car. He turned to look at her, confused.

"I asked a friend to come get me," she explained, and Joel slowly nodded.

"Hey, I'm sorry 'bout tonight, but sometimes the job just gets in the way."

"Was it the job, Joel? Or was it her?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. He paused, unsure what to say as he averted his gaze. She looked down at her feet and took a breath before bringing her eyes back up to him.

"This isn't going to work out, is it?" she asked softly. Joel forced himself to look at her again and after a moment, shook his head. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes and he immediately felt guilty. He took a step forward but she sniffled and stepped further away.

"I don't know why I couldn't see it. The whole fucking town sees it. Even after what happened at the coffee shop this morning... I just hoped..." she trailed off and wiped a stray tear from her eye.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, and he truly meant it. He didn't want to hurt her and he felt like shit that it had to come down to this.

"It's fine. I'll get over it," she said, trying to sound strong before turning to her friend's car and sliding into the front seat. He almost reached out, almost asked her to stay, but he stopped because it would have been cruel and selfish. He was only looking to assuage his own guilt. Instead, he watched the car back up and leave the parking lot, a pit growing in his stomach now that he was alone.

He knew it was the right thing to do, that he had to be honest with Nikki. At least he didn't lead her on, and he hoped he didn't hurt her feelings too badly, but he still felt like an asshole.

Then his thoughts drifted to you. What happened today after the coffee shop? Even though the guy was an asshole, it didn't change the fact you were married and he couldn't have you. What was he supposed to do? Pine away for you his whole life? Would he really ever be content with just being your friend?

And what the hell was he going to do with Patrick? He could charge him with assaulting an officer, that should keep him in jail for a few days until he posts bail, but would he ever see any charges actually stick? Or would he make a few phone calls and have them disappear?

He didn't anticipate this ever being a problem. He's never had to deal with another lawman on the receiving side of his job.

He was entering uncharted territory.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm

[lewisvinga]

star struck | charles leclerc x fem! reader

summary; after seeing her receive an award at an award show, charles couldn’t help but become starstruck. luckily, both him and y/n were invited to the after party.

warnings; none

notes; requested !

word count; 484

taglist; @namgification

masterlist !

Charles felt like his breath was stolen when he saw her receive an award on stage. Her warm smile and the way her eyes crinkled seemed comforting to him. The champagne-colored gown adorned with flowers and gems made her seem like a goddess.

To say he was starstruck already was an understatement.

He needed to talk to her. But he thought he would never get a chance once the award show ended until he saw her standing by the bar at the after-party. Charles was a man that many women wanted. He’s always been confident in his abilities around women but for some reason, he was nervous to go up to her.

Y/n had noticed him when he walked into the club at the after-party. The waves of his brown hair and the black frames on his nose caught her breath. Her friend noticed the trance she was in due to the Monegasque.

“Why don’t you go up and talk to him?”

“What?” Y/n asks in shock, her head quickly turning to face her friend. “Are you crazy? Besides, a guy like that is sure to have a girlfriend.”

Her friend rolls her eyes. “Y/n, I saw him staring at you when you received your awards. That man definitely does not have a girlfriend.” Before Y/n could reply, a sudden voice interrupted them.

“Excuse me,” An accented voice says, causing Y/n to turn around. She was met with the familiar black frames and a pair of green eyes behind them. “You’re Y/n L/n, right? Congratulations on the awards, you really deserved it.”

A wide smile crept up on her lips. She didn’t even notice that her friend left, leaving her at the bar. “Yeah! I am. Thank you so much.” She says, holding her hand out. Her smile became wider as he happily shook her hand. “You look familiar, you must be?”

“Ah, sorry! I should’ve introduced myself first,” He chuckled, adjusting his glasses. “I’m Charles Leclerc. I’m a Formula One driver for Ferrari.”

“Oh! I knew I recognized you somewhere, my friend is a fan.” She replies with a small gasp. She leans against the counter and tilts her head to the side, “Care to explain to me how it all works?”

Charles began to explain the motorsport to her and how he got into it. She listened and nodded like it was the most interesting thing. One thing led to another and hours later, they were sitting outside on a bench deep into some conversation, the after-party and meeting other celebrities didn’t even cross her mind.

Her stomach suddenly growled mid-sentence and she let out a nervous laugh. “Sorry about that, I-“

“You know, my place is nearby. I can make a pretty good carbonara.” Charles replies with a smile. Y/n matches his smile as she stands up from the bench and holds her hand out.

“Then lead the way, Leclerc.”

“Gladly.”

[lvrhughes]

I Didn't Mean For This | M. Rempe

word count: 2.19k

pairing: Matt Rempe x fem!reader

summary: Matt makes a bet with his teammate that he can get any girl in the club.

warnings: Matt's an asshole? angst?

requested: yes

notes: this took a little longer than I hoped to write and the ending kind of sucks, imo, but I hope y'all enjoy!

“I don’t think you could get any girl in here.” 

It was a stupid argument, starting between Braden and Matt. Forcing their teammates into the conversation, with Matt claiming he could have any girl in the room. 

“Let’s settle this, Matt you get with her,” Jacob pointed to the first girl he saw, somewhere around Matt’s age, she was gorgeous, “For a week then you’ve won, if not, Braden was right.” 

Matt nodded, he could do this. He made his plan, running through what he would do to gather your attention, ignoring his teammates remarks about how immoral this was. 

His movements were precise, walking over to you with a goal, leaning against the bar you sat at, watching you glance up at him when he slid beside you. 

“Anyone sitting here?” He spoke softly, testing the waters. 

“No, it’s all yours.” 

He smiled, sliding down onto the stool beside you, his hand lingering on the tabletop beside yours for a minute longer than necessary. 

“What’s your name?” He was the first to speak, initiating the conversation, asking you simple questions about your life and answering as if he were genuinely interested. 

Within the hour, he’d learned all he needed, he had your name and your number and a date set up for tomorrow night. 

“See you tomorrow Matt.” You held a shy smile as your friends returned to drag you away from the bar and back to your apartment. 

Nervous would’ve been an understatement, waiting for Matt to arrive the following night. He had messaged ten minutes ago, claiming he was just leaving his apartment, he’d been at yours in fifteen minutes. You paced the room nervously, anxiously cleaning up random things in your kitchen, before being interrupted by a soft knock on your door. 

Opening it quickly to reveal Matt, dressed in well-fitting jeans with a button up, holding a bouquet of roses. He was quick to push the roses towards you, telling you how beautiful you looked and that the flowers were for you. 

“Thank you.” you almost whispered, shocked at how formal he was being, quickly finding a vase for them to stay in before following him out, taking his outstretched hand, letting him lead the way. 

“I hope you don’t mind, but I thought we could do something different than go to a restaurant.” He spoke softly, opening the door of his car for you before walking around to his side. “I was thinking we could go to the arcade.”

It was a quick drive to the arcade, Matt’s eyes occasionally drifting from the road to you during the ride. He was quick to remove himself from the driver's seat, running in front of the car to open the door to the passengers side, holding his hand out for you to take. 

“What a gentleman.” Your tone was soft, joking, watching him smile at the words. 

“Mama raised me right.” He grinned, leading the way into the arcade. 

The night moved fast, playing every game that caught your eye, letting Matt win prizes for you, it was something of a movie that made you sad when it came to an end. 

Leaving at the same time the arcade closed, hand in hand with Matt while he led you back to his car, driving you back to your apartment slowly, savoring his time with you. 

“I wish this night would never end.” He whispered, his hands on your hips, standing outside your apartment door. 

“Me too.” 

Without thinking, he was kissing you. Your lips molded together perfectly, his hands keeping you pulled tight against his body, your hands tugging through his hair. 

He pulled away panting, his forehead pressed to yours while you smiled, pecking his lips once more before turning inside, whispering a ‘good night’ while he stared as you closed the door behind you. 

His walk down the hall was slow, his hands gripping his phone where he rewatched the video, listening to the conversation that had just played through before sending it to Braden. The simple ‘6 more days’ text that followed had him smiling, opening the door to his car while he simply liked the message. 

It was no more than a day later when Matt showed up at your door again, holding takeout and sporting a shy smile. 

“What are you doing here?” The smile on your face was confirmation enough, he made the right choice coming over.

“I wanted to surprise you, I was thinking dinner and a movie at home?” He suggested, raising his hands that held the bags of food.

“That’d be amazing, thank you.”

It wasn’t till he was leaving that night had he remembered about the bet, sending a quick message to Braden stating ‘5 more days and I win’ with a smile on his face. 

It wasn’t till three days after that he’d shown up again, appearing at your door with bags of goodies after you claimed you couldn’t hang out because you were sick. 

His knocking was soft on the door, hoping to not wake you if you were sleeping, waiting to hear the pad of your footsteps coming to the door. 

“Matt?” Shock  filled your voice, standing wrapped in a blanket as you opened the door, your voice rough with a cold as you spoke. 

“Brought you some things to make you feel better.” He smiled, shifting your body to the side, sliding into your apartment before picking you up, his bag of goodies left beside the front door for now. 

“Matt you’ll get sick!” you were smiling as he carried you, bringing you into your bedroom and laying you down gently.

“It’ll be worth it to spend time with you.” 

When he snuck out, at nearly midnight once he was sure you were asleep, his phone flashed the three messages from Braden. 

‘Any progress?’

‘I think I might win this tbh’

‘Shit where are you man?’

A smile covered Matt’s face, laughing at his teammates messages before quicking typing one back.

“Let me in.” Matt’s voice, muffled through the door, filled your kitchen. 

“One second I need to take the cookies out.” You yelled back reaching in the remove the hot tray from the oven, knicking your arm on the top as you pulled them out, muttering a soft ‘fuck’ as you placed the cookies and went to open the door. 

“Baby, what happened?” Matt’s eyes immediately dropped to the red patch on your arm, his hands reaching to hold your arm to look. 

“I just hit my arm on the over, I’ll be fine.” 

“No, we’re taking care of this.” 

He had a determined look in his eyes, as if he’d never take no for an answer, leading you into your bathroom to clean the burn himself. 

The sight alone was something you wouldn’t mind seeing everyday, sat on the counter while he rummaged through your items, finding all the ones he needed before gently cleaning the burn. 

His touch was gentle, as if he were scared of breaking you, his eyes always on you, his heart racing as he tried to focus. 

“Thank you, baby.” You whispered, leaning up to kiss him when he finished, letting his body melt into yours. 

Leaving was almost the worst part of the night, at least in Matt’s opinion. He dreaded walking through your door, clinging onto your body a little bit longer before he had to leave, walking slowly through the halls. 

Glancing at his phone he saw the message from Braden, reminding him of the bet he’d forgotten about, his mind only focused on falling in love with you. 

‘You won man, gg’ 

He ignored the message, fighting the urge to block Braden for reminding him that this started as a bet. Guilt flooded his body as he walked, how could he have been so cruel to make her a bet? 

He deleted the messages, spending the night forgetting that the bet had ever been made, trying to drown the feeling of guilt in the morning when you messaged him a thank you for last night.

‘Open the door’ 

The message woke you up, coming through at 7 am on a saturday morning, Matt’s contact photo filling your screen when he deemed you hadn’t answered fast enough. 

“Open up, I brought you something.” You could hear the smile in his voice, slowly moving from your bed as he spoke, rummaging for something else to put on. 

“Let me get some clothes on.” You groaned, dropping your phone onto your bed to get dressed, picking it up right after before heading to your door. 

Opening it to reveal Matt holding two cups of coffee and a bag of food, greeting you with a hug whilst balancing the order. 

“I missed you.” He whispered, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear, letting your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him down. 

“Missed you too.” 

It had been months, three months since the first date. He was the picture perfect boyfriend, more than anyone could want.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, constantly, laying almost on top of you on the couch, watching whatever stupid show was playing on the television. 

“I love you.” You’d whisper back, glancing down to see the smile on his face. 

Those were your favorite days, lazy days with Matt. He would lay with you all day, showing constant affection, whispering sweet nothings. It couldn’t get better. 

His phone buzzed from the counter, laying discarded from this morning while you both had lounged on the couch. Matt was cooking, something he did rarely but nonetheless loved, urging you to grab his phone and read the message for him. 

“Okay it’s from Braden, ‘Are you still with her?? You won the bet you can drop her now’” Your voice lowered as you read, dropping the phone to stare at Matt, where he froze in horror. 

He turned quickly, facing you with a look of guilt along his features, his mind moving quickly through things he could say to you. 

“Baby,” He tried, your hand raising to cut him off.

“What the fuck does that mean, Matthew.” Your voice was filled with venom, watching his eyes widen at the words. 

“I- Fuck.” He stuttered, nothing sounded good enough anymore for him to say, his mind frozen trying to think. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” 

“What does that mean?” The words were sharp, pushing an urgent tone as you glared towards Matt. 

“Baby I can explain-” 

“Don’t fucking ‘baby’ me!” The yell caught him off guard, flinching back towards the stove where he stood in front. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. But you have to let me explain.” He begged, his eyes filling with more guilt as time passed. 

“You have five minutes before I kick you out of my house.” 

You could hear the several ‘thank you’s mumbled from him as you walked back to the couch, sitting in the corner whilst Matt followed and sat on the other side. 

He paused for a moment, looking at you while you held a glare at him. 

“What are you waiting for? Speak.” The words made him almost recoil, having never heard you be so venomous. 

“Fuck, I’m so fucking sorry.” His words broke when he reached to run a hand through his hair, planning his next words. “It’s okay if you never forgive me but you need to know I love you.” 

Your eyes never softened, keeping the hard glare at the tall man while the gears turned through his mind on how to explain this. 

“You deserve the truth, this was a bet.” 

It was like the world had gone silent, everything had stopped spinning, the leaves had quit falling and all was over. You had been a bet to him. 

“But listen I fell in love with you, Baby believe me. I would never lie about that-” 

“No? You’ll just lie about the rest of our relationship! None of it was real!” 

There were tears streaming down your cheeks, covering them with a shine that reflected the light of the room. Matt’s eyes clouded over, leaning his head back to keep the tears from dropping. 

“It was real! I love you, baby please.” Matt’s pleas were useless, the words being ignored as you tried to make the room stop spinning in your mind and the tears to quit falling.

“Get out.” 

Matt froze, all his pleas fell silent as he stared at you wide eyed. His hands dropped in his lap, his eyes scanning your face while you just stared back at him. 

“What? Baby please-” 

“I said get out, Matthew.” 

You moved quickly, walking past his figure on the couch to open the front door, holding it open whilst gesturing for Matt to go through it. 

“I was a fucking bet to you and you thought that this would all be fine? Get the fuck out of my house Matthew!” 

He moved slowly, grabbing the discarded phone from the kitchen counter as he passed, mumbling out more apologies as he walked through the door, turning to say more as the door shut in his face.

[forzalando]

💛 hi 🥹 CONGRATS ON 3K THAT'S HUUUUUGE !!!!

I am obsessed with this idea and also my favourite activity (as of recently lmao) is drunk karaoke and of COURSE my dream would be to do it with lando !!!!

drunk karaoke with Lando would, and i'm not exaggerating, mean everything to me. i am in love with just the idea of this.

thank you for supporting me through the many phases of this blog and for entertaining my every thought/idea. adore you, mel💛 i hope you enjoy this blurb that was meant to be 300-400 words but ended up being 800+ lol

celebration post: here

Drunk Karaoke with Lando Norris under the cut😊

You quickly downed the shot thrust into your hand – sambuca, which meant it absolutely came from Lando since he was the only one who knew of your preference.  

He was on your left, sweaty and somehow wide awake despite the fact you’d been out for hours. Oscar was on your right, slowly swaying to the music with his eyes half shut. Somewhere across the club Charles and Pierre were dancing on an elevated surface while George videotaped them like a suburban soccer mom at her son’s first game. Here in Monaco, everyone partied post-race as if they themselves had made it to the top step over the weekend.

Out of nowhere, Lando fell into you as he shouted in your ear – “Do you know what I’ve always wanted to do?”

Oscar caught you before you could topple over, steadying you on your feet before shooting Lando a dirty look.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lando giggled. He centered himself and then put his hands on your shoulders, looking the most serious you’d ever seen him. “Anyway, do you know what I’ve always wanted to do?”

“Win at Silverstone? Become world champion?”

“Well, yes, but think smaller, you lunatic. Something I could do right now.”

“Out drink Max?”

“What? No, I don’t care about outdrinking Max, where did that come from?”

“Well, I just thought since he usually wins every race that you’d want to beat him at something – ”

“Oh my god, you’re impossible,” Oscar interjected. “He wants to do drunk karaoke. When we went out in Miami he was practically on his knees begging me to sing with him.”

A giant grin spread across your face as you playfully swatted Lando’s chest.

“Why didn’t you just say so? I happen to be an excellent karaoke partner,” you boasted.

Lando clapped his hands and jumped around like a toddler at your remark – “So, you’ll do it with me?”

Instead of answering, you snatched his hand and pulled him through the club at an impressive speed. You weren’t in a karaoke bar, quite far from it, but you planted yourself in front of the DJ booth and gestured to Lando. Security immediately pulled you both into the booth, perks of having Lando at your side, and the DJ of the night asked what she could do for you.

“Hi! Lando Norris wants to do drunk karaoke and I’m trusting that you can make that happen. It’s very important to him,” you professed.

“I think I might have a couple instrumentals or could make some magic happen. Any specific requests? You won’t have any lyrics on screen, though. And you’ll have to share a mic.”

Before you could ask what your options were, Lando was shouting, once again, in your ear.

“DO YOU HAVE THE SPICE GIRLS? THAT ONE SPICE GIRLS SONG?”

“Lando, we won’t have the lyrics,” you reminded him.

“I don’t need them,” he declared, crossing his arms with attitude. “Maybe you need them, fake fan.”

“I most certainly do not,” you yelled back to Lando. “DJ, roll the track. Pretty please. You're amazing."

She chuckled and handed you the singular mic, Lando immediately snatching it from your hands.

“It’s my dream, I get to hold the mic.”

You rolled your eyes and fought back a smile, stepping into his side as he threw an arm around you.

The deafening bass from the speakers grew quiet as the DJ addressed the crowd of people – “we’ve got a special surprise tonight! These two lovely friends of mine up here are going to perform a special number for everyone. Please welcome – ”

She paused, waiting for you and Lando to introduce yourselves.

“LANDO NORRIS AND Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Please welcome Lando Norris and Y/N Y/L/N to my booth. Show them some love!”

The clapping and cheering brought the volume in the club back to an obscene level – the loudest cheers coming from a VIP table not far from the booth where all of your friends had gathered.

Before you had a chance to feel the slightest bit self-conscious, the infamous laugh rang through the speakers and Lando was scream-singing into the mic.

 “YO, I’LL YOU WHAT I WANT, WHAT I REALLY, REALLY WANT!”

The two of you in perfect sync, passing lines back and forth, singing (if you could call it that) in unison during the chorus. You could have sworn you heard George shout out that this was “his song” and Max was most definitely telling anyone who would listen that he personally knows Ginger Spice.  

You tore your eyes from the audience to look at Lando – the smile on his face rivaling the brightest sunny day. With his arm around you, squeezing you to his side, your closest friends cheering for you, your heart was sure to burst from happiness. There was no place you’d rather be in that moment than making a drunken fool of yourself with the most important person in your life by your side.

And if Lando was thinking the same thing, about how he was happier in that moment than he’d ever been, podiums and race win included, he’d keep that to himself for just a minute more.

[outsideratheart]

Home Part 2 (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: Sorry it’s taken me so long to get this next part out but writer’s block has been a bitch.

You spent much longer mingling and people pleasing than you had hoped. The plan was to do a quick lap of the room then spend the night with you family only that didn’t happen. At first you were worried about Alexia, with her being in an environment that was unfamiliar and surrounded by people she didn’t know but every time you looked over you found her having a blast with your sister in laws. You wonder if she missed your presence but that question was quickly answered when you returned to her.

The Cruyffs; present, future and Alexia were all at the bar. She feels you beside her and just as she turns around someone pushes into you and you find yourself very close to Alexia.

“Hello you” you whisper. 

With the close proximity you could smell Alexia’s perfume. It was your perfume which she must have taken from your bag when you wasn’t looking. 

“Have you done your duties?” Alexia asks and you nods your head, a smirk tugging at your lips “then you can have another one of these?” 

She takes a shot from your brother and hands it to you. It seems that Alexia’s new found comfort was all thanks to the liqueur which you knew is drank by the bottle at events like this.

“Thank you” you take the shot without breaking eye contact.

Even after the mouthful of alcohol you cannot take your eyes off Alexia. She truly did look beautiful. This event had been the reason for so much anxiety but since touching down in the city you barely felt any of it and you knew that the reason was the woman standing in front of you.  You wasn’t feeling grief and you wasn’t consumed by the past. Alexia made you focus on the present and you cannot remember being this happy in years.

“I think we should leave” you whisper in her ear. Your hand sat dangerously low on her back.

“Why would you want to do that?” Alexia asks and you can tell that she genuinely wanted to stay.

“Because there’s things I want to do and I can’t do them here” 

“And what would that be?” Alexia again asked a question but the change in her tone told you she knew exactly what was going through your mind. She also have the confidence given the confession Liv and Mia made earlier.

“Let me take you home and I will show you” 

At this point Alexia pulls away to get a better look at you and to see if your being serious but with the hold you have on her you are able to pull her back towards you. 

“Not to interrupt your moment” Luuk says apologetically

“Again” Jordi adds earning a slap from you.

His words gain the attention of the others. No doubt them all wondering what he meant by again.

“You know the rules Y/N. The children have to stay till 11 then we are free to go” 

“2 hours” Alexia says after looking at her watch.

“Me and Jordi normally leave earlier than that and leave Luuk to deal with mum” 

You and Jordi share a look. He may technically be older but the two of you are like twins and your mother knows best than to force to be somewhere you don’t want to be. She did it before and you both caused havoc which lead to you father kicking you out of the event.

“Give it an hour then we will sneak out” 

Alexia nods her head wondering whether or not the next hour will pass by quickly or if it will drag. It wasn’t a thought that lasted long because you pulled her to the dance floor. It wasn’t like a dance floor at a club but the Cruyffs knew how to have a good time so there were plenty of guests dancing the night away. It meant you and her were able to blend in without bringing too much attention.

The idea of dancing came from an innocent place, well a mostly innocent place. You wanted to find a way to pass time but the intention soon changed when you found yourself dancing against Alexia and felt her hand on your lower abdomen. It wasn’t dirty dancing but it was enough to flood your mind with less than innocent thoughts. 

“Stop” you lean back so Alexia can hear you.

“I’m not doing anything” 

Whilst she was right, she also couldn’t be more wrong.

You could feel her breath on your neck, it was overwhelming. 

“We’re leaving. Now” you grab her hand pulling her towards the exit. You couldn’t care less what you mother would say about your early departure. The only thing you cared about was the Catalonian beauty you were about to take home.

The car ride was filled with anticipation. Very few words were exchanged and truth be told neither of you had a lot to say. Enough had been said and from the words that had been spoken, you and Alexia were able to read between the lines.

You grab Alexia’s hand the moment you are through the door as you lead her upstairs to your bedroom, to the room the two of you were to share for night. 

This wasn’t you first time nor was it Alexia’s but you weren’t in any rush.

“Will you help me, porfa?” Alexia asks. 

The brunette turns around and pulls her hair to the side to give you better access to the zip of her dress. Given that she had already taken off her heels, you k=now had the height advantage. You stood behind her but instead of undoing her dress like Alexia asked, you rest you hands on her hips and place a soft kiss to the side of her neck. 

“Don’t tease” Alexia makes no effort to move, instead relishing in the feeling that is your lips against her skin.

“As you wish” with one last kiss you turn you attention back to the zip making sure to take your time. Once you are done you tap Alexia on her hip assuming that she plans on going to the bathroom to take it off only that isn’t her plan.

“Take it off” Alexia turns to face you. 

Her eyes are dark and you see the lust growing within them. She wants what you want yet you find yourself hesitating. You hand sits on her shoulder, on the top of the material of her dress but you make no move to rid her of it. 

“What are you waiting for? Is something wrong?” 

“I’m taking in the moment in case it never happens again” 

It took a second for Alexia to recognise the look in your eye. It was a mixture of uncertainty and insecurity. She wasn’t sure if you would believe her words so she showed you how much the moment meant to her. The brunette leans forward and gently placed her lips on your own. There is no hunger or desperation. The kiss slow but filled with more passion than either of you had ever experienced before. 

With a new found confidence and a focus on the present you pull the straps down exposing her perfect body. Once the dress is on the ground you take her hand and help her out of it. 

She stands in front of you in nothing but a black lace matching set. 

“You. Are. Beautiful” you tell her, each word followed by a kiss to her lips. 

“Can I?” Alexia asks as she plays with the fabric on the front of your dress. 

It seemed only fair that you let her undress you so you nod in agreement and before you know you are both standing in nothing but your underwear. 

“I want you Y/N. I have since the first night I met you. I only wish I would have told you sooner” 

“I’m right here and I’m all yours” no words had ever been more true than these in this very moment. 

Hearing you say those words was like music to Alexia’s ears. It was a sweet melody at the beginning on the song that would be your first night together.

This woman who you had known for less than a year knew your body as if it was her own. Each movement made you want more. Every touch set your body on fire and every kiss make you believe that the love you saw in movies was possible. She knew just what to do for you to reach a new climatic height and you in suit showed her just how much you worshipped her body.

Your bodies collapsed on the bed a couple of hours later and it seemed to be perfect timing because just as Alexia laid her head on your chest, you heard the rest of the family come through the front door. Knowing that they wouldn’t come in, you made no effort to move and you tightened your hold on Alexia so that she didn’t move either.

 As you lay there the silence caused your mind to wander and to no surprise of your own it goes back over the intimacy you and Alexia had just shared.

Alexia felt the hitch in your breath. She adjusts her position and sees you staring deeply at the ceiling. 

“Hola, what’s going on in the beautiful head of yours?” 

You didn’t feel her move but you certainly wasn’t complaining about the closeness that Alexia was currently in.

“Did that—does this—“ You didn’t want to finish either sentence because you knew that there was a chance Alexia would answer in the worst way possible.

“You told me you’re mine and now I’m telling you that I’m yours Y/N, there is nobody else out there for me. That much I know is true”

“I was hoping you’d say something like that” 

The woman laid back down in your arms and remained quiet. It took a couple of minutes for you to realise it was because she had fallen asleep, clearly exhausted by the nights events.

The smile that tugs on your lips is out of your control. It seemed to be a theme with Alexia. She had all the control, all the power and held all the cards. You didn’t have a choice in falling for her, nor did you have a choice when she became the highlight of your day. Her company is the one your crave for. For Alexia you let your heart lead and it lead you to her.

[vodika-vibes]

True Love

Summary: Fives is a man on a mission. His mission? Remind his riduur that she’s the only one for him.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x F!Reader

Word Count: 828

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, full disclosure, this was supposed to be the event request for @l0nesome-dreams but I only read the first part of the request and went, yes, ideas, and only realized I went off the rails when I finished writing it, lol. SO. That will be properly written at a later point in time. So, uh, have a random Fives story?

The worst part of having a secret wife, is the fact that he can’t be as blunt to the people flirting with him as he’d prefer. The second worst thing is the fact that his brothers think that he’s lonely and needs help getting dates.

That leads him to this situation. Where an, admittedly pretty, woman is leaning into his personal space, and his mind is racing for what to say that won’t be too insulting, but also won’t out the fact that he’s a happily married man.

She leans further into his personal space, and Fives takes a half step back, keeping some distance between them. He glances at his chrono and his heart sinks. He’s late. 

His poor riduur is probably wondering where he is.

The woman leans closer to him, and Fives moves quickly to keep her from touching him, “Aww…you’re shy.”

“Look, I’m flattered, but I’m really not interested.” He says.

“Your brothers said that you would say that.” She smiles at him, it’s a pretty smile, but Fives really isn’t interested in her. “I can go as slow as you like.”

“Again,” Fives says slowly, “I’m flattered, but not interested.” He glances at the chrono one more time, maybe, if he’s quick, he can stop at the bakery that his riduur likes so much and get her a lemon bar.

The woman huffs, “Do you have somewhere to be?”

Fives grabs the chance with both hands, “Yes. Actually. And I’m late. If you’ll excuse me.” He almost makes it to the entrance of the Club before Rex flings his arm over his shoulder, “Son of a kriffing-”

“Where are you going, Fives?” Rex asks.

“Cap, Rex, I’m late. I have to go.”

“Oh? Have a hot date?”

Fives doesn’t answer, and he averts his gaze from his brothers, it’s a damned shame he isn’t a better liar, “I just have to pick something up before the store closes.”

“We went through all of this trouble to help you find a date, vod-”

“I’m not interested.” Fives blurts, “Not in her. Not in anyone you’ll ever pick for me. Rex, I have to go. I’m late.”

Rex presses his hand against Fives’ chest plate, “Late for what?”

Fives flounders, and then he sighs, “I was supposed to meet my wife half an hour ago, and if I leave now I can bring her a lemon bar from her favorite bakery to make up for being late. Can I go?”

“You’re married!?”

“REX!”

“Yes! Go.”

Fives pushes past his brother and out of the club.

He’s lucky, the bakery is still open when he arrives, and he’s able to get a whole box of the lemon bars his riduur prefers, before he runs home. He takes the stairs two at a time and impatiently keys in the door code before he stops in the front hallway.

Home smells like her. Like vanilla and flowers and everything good and nice in the galaxy that he never thought that he’d have. Home also smells like stew and fresh baked bread.

Fives quickly pulls his armor off, with one hand, and he heads into the kitchen. His riduur, his perfect beautiful Riduur, is still making dinner.

Thank the Force.

“I’m home,”

She turns and a bright smile crosses her face when she sees him, “Fives, welcome home.” She lays her spoon over the pot and turns to greet him with a hug, “You stopped at the bakery?”

“I know that I’m late-” Fives replies as he sets the box on the table, “So I stopped and got your favorite dessert.”

She giggles and presses a hand to her mouth, “I got a late start too, honestly. I’m sorry dinner isn’t ready.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind.” He settles his hands on her hips and leans in to lightly press his forehead against hers, “Rex and the others dragged me to 79s.” He admits, “They think, thought, that I was lonely.”

“Oh?”

“They set me up on a blind date,” Fives adds.

A glimmer of uncertainty crosses her face, “Was she pretty?”

“I suppose. I wasn’t paying attention.” He brings one hand up to brush her cheek, “I was thinking about you.”

She ducks her head, a blush crossing her face, “You’re a sap.”

“True.” Fives kisses her gently, “I had to tell Rex about you before he’d let me leave.”

“Oh, Fives-”

“It’s okay. I doubt I’ll get into much trouble.” He kisses her one more time, “Don’t you worry about it. You won’t get into trouble, I promise.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“I know. Don’t worry, Rex is reasonable.” He kisses her again and again, “Now, how much still needs to be done for dinner, and how can I help?”

“Um…a lot. How about you go shower and change, and you can help after?”

“Deal.” He catches her lips in one more kiss, “Love you, riduur.”

She sighs, a dreamlike smile on her face, “Love you more.”

[luviwon]

박성훈 – alluring me

word count: 2k

COMING BACK FOR MORE?

It seemed to be a loud night in the usual quiet town. The rain drops were slipping down your window, worsening the view outside. You were not much of a rain person, rather you enjoyed sunny mornings so you can be that "girl" they call. Either way, it wasn't morning in first place, so why would you care?

Oh, maybe because you were supposed to leave your apartment room in the following 20 minutes, your friend almost pulling up to pick you up. Nightclub she said. Now, whether you were going to enjoy it or not, you'll have to see, but one thing is sure: you weren't going to let yourself get drunk and end up in a stranger's bed by next morning.

At least not this way.

You were good to go. Makeup on point, clothes suiting your perfectly, golden jewellery around your neck cause you were expensive. The only thing that was missing was some cash and a hot boyfriend to bring with you. But you can't have everything in the world. At worst, you could ask Lia to lend you some money until next paycheck, so you could enjoy a cheap mocktail.

Making sure to lock the front door, you walked to the parking spot, waiting for your friend to arrive as well. Fortunately, it didn't take her too long, as the dark blue Audi made its way in, stopping in front of you. "Hi babe!" Lia shouted, as the car window went down, revealing a tipsy blondie.

"Are you drunk driving again?" you chuckled and walked around the car, getting the door open and stepping in. "Me? Drunk? Y/N! What are you talking about?" said she, while not being able to hide a hiccup. The two of you just laughed, while Lia drove out of the parking spot, speeding up on the lonely road. There was barely anyone, and most probably, there won't be any interesting person at the club either. It wasn't the biggest town, for sure, so there was no reason in trying to aim highly.

Luckily, the club wasn't so far, which made everything just perfect. Less likely to be engaged in an accident, given Lia's condition. The blondie parked, horribly though, in front of the ordinary looking nightclub, and threw her keys somewhere in the back. "Just in case I feel like car sex later, it's better to leave the car unlocked"

"You are crazy" you said, jokingly pushing her shoudler. Lia chuckled, leaving the car and inhaling the fresh air outside, and you did the same. Not long until your nose will only inhale cigarette smoke, so you may as well take advantage of the situation. The two of you stepped in, looking around for someone familiar. Yet it seemed like there was no one you would know.

You made it to the bar, barely being able to hear each other. The music was deafening, much louder than you've expected. Lia seemed to enjoy, though. Judging by her facial expression, she was going to leave you immediately for that hottie she noticed walking around. Typical. Shouldn't you do the same though?

"Hey, Lia, do you think you can give me some cash until Wednesday? Just so I don't awkwardly beg someone to buy me a drink"

"Oh, babe, I'm so sorry! I don't have anything on me. I'm counting on that sexy lad!" she said, pointing to a blonde guy, accompanied by another blonde person. Or was it the other she pointed at? They looked very similar, so no point in trying to guess. "Ah, thank you anyway" you smiled at her.

And just as thought, Lia slyly disappeared from the picture, seeing her next to the two guys, seductively touching their arms. She was so funny. But you couldn't deny, she was so good at this. Definitely better than you. You turned around to the barman, with doe eyes.

"What can I get you, young lady?"

"Anything on the house, please" you tried to make it less awkward by laughing away, elegantly, but it didn't seem to work. "I'm sorry, darling, drinks cost money. If you lack any, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I can't get you anything"

"Loser," you mumbled.

You walked away in annoyance, fixing your relatively short denim skirt. Maybe not the best cloth choice for a night out, but it was so cute! So was your sleeveless white top, revealing a hot cleavage, put in the light by the delicate necklace.

"You alone, pretty girl?" you heard a sensual voice from your left side, turning your head to witness maybe one of the most beautiful faces you've ever seen before.

The guy was wearing a black button up shirt, with the first 3 unbuttoned, and the sleeves rolled up. His messy dark hair and rosy lips looked so perfect in contrast with his white skin. He was sitting down on a white sofa, resting his back on the piece of furniture, with his legs slightly opened.

"Depends on who asks"

That sounded better in your head, but after you let it aloud, you felt so stupid.

"Mhm," he groaned, looking down and chuckling. "I see, pretty girl"

The dark-haired guy grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer, on the spare seat next to him. He smelt so fucking good. He had this kind of screaming sweet scent mixed with some vanilla. Closer now, you could analyse his face so much better. His dark eyes were shining in the multicolour club lights, and his skin was so smooth, at least it looked like it. You didn't dare to touch it.

"What does the pretty girl like to drink?"

"A mocktail would be perfect for me"

He softly giggled at your answer, as his left hand grabbed your chin and turned you closer to him, making eye contact. There they were again, his blinding eyes. "We both know you will get drunk on me later, so what about you start getting yourself ready with a nice set of shots for an even nicer doll?"

You gulped, taken aback by the tension he created. He was so much for it. And the closer he got, the more you got high on his perfume. It was so addictive. Where the hell did he come from? A fairytale? He was much too perfect for this fucked up world.

"I guess that works too" you answered, pulling your skirt down while not breaking the eye contact.

He looked down, sensing your movement. "Don't worry princess, you are alright" his hand was now touching your bare calf, going up your leg at a slow pace, making his way to your outer thigh. His touch made you tremble, it felt so wrong but so good at the same time. Where was the promise you made before you left? Probably somewhere lost, as the guy's hand went up to invading your personal space way too much now.

"I don't thin-"

"You don't think what?" he interrupted you promptly, his fingers teasing gently against the lingerie material. "Let the thinking to me, dollface. You just be good." Using his index and middle fingers, he kept going in circular motions. Before you knew it, you were on his lap, being aroused by his skillful fingers.

Your faces were so close, but he didn't kiss you. He only stared at your perfect looking face, whilst his fingers slipped under your panties, playfully touching your clit. You bit your lower lip in response, holding your moan back. He noticed that, and came closer to your lips. "You wish I'd kiss you so you could moan into my mouth, don't you?"

You gulped again, feeling his hot breath on your dry lips. He seemed like such a good kisser, but why didn't he want to show it to you? Because he was a tease. And he wanted you to earn in. Or shall you just make the next step? You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down until your lips touched together. Fuck, even for the first second, he tasted so good. What was this man made out of?

You could feel the smile that was born on his face at your action. With his spare hand, the dark-haired guy held your back close to him. His fingers were now exploring more of you, teasing your entrance that was already dripping wet. He was making you so needy, and that was more than obvious. He kissed you hard, devouring your mouth, he seemed so famished, desiring you so much. You felt overwhelmed, and when you expected it least, both of his fingers were sliding inside you, making you whine inside his mouth, just as he previously said.

"Good girl" he tried to say in between kissing, keeping on being so hungry for your taste. His fingers went in and out your pussy, causing you to moan again. The hand that was supposed to hold your back went up to your hair and pulled it down, making you face the ceiling as his lips went down your neck "Now moan aloud too, princess"

Not that anyone could have heard you, the deafening music and the smoke around could barely make out what's going on around. But the simple thought of you getting caught was arousing him. Reason why his fingers moved faster inside you, and deeper, making you bite your lips hard. In response, he bit a tiny part of your neck, and pulled your hair harder. His fingers curled inside you, touching continously your G-spot, finally making you let a loud moan out.

He was so proud.

"Good girl, come for me" he whispered, pushing your head back up and going back to making out with you, while his fingers went back to deep and precise motions. His tongue played with yours in a little battle that he won. All the odds were on his side. He had you coming for him, the dark-haired guy not giving you a break. He needed to stop, you really couldn't handle all that. It was too much for you.

It seemed that he almost read your mind, cause as soon as you thought that, he took his fingers out, cleaning them by your chest, covering it in your liquor. "Tight" he said, biting your lips one more time before backing up. That felt so fucking good. You were so out of breath, leaning on his chest. You thought you shouldn't do this, given that he is not your boyfriend. Isn't it normal to just leave when this finishes?

But he was so warm, and you were so stupid.

"You come here often, darling?" he asked, going back to being a gentleman.

He lit up a cigarette, blowing the smoke on the opposite side of you. He offered you one, but you refused. Not quite your thing. But he looked so sexy smoking that shit. So fine. So perfect. And you wish he could have been yours.

"Not really. But if you do, I will have a change of heart"

He chuckled, taking another smoke from the cigarette. Putting your hair behind your ear, he grabbed your cheek with two fingers and acted just like an old lady seeing her nephews. "You are so cute"

You still couldn't move on from what just happened. And even though he stopped a while ago, you could still feel the pleasure your pussy was in. So fucking good.

"What's your name?" you asked, hopeful.

"Does that change a thing? You don't need these details"

"I need you, though" that made him smile.

He gave you a short kiss, a last one, and got up from the white-leathered sofa. "I'm sorry, pretty girl, but I'd need to have you gone if you knew my name." He fixed his button up shirt, and threw the cigarette in the ashtray. You felt so disappointed. How could you let him go so easily?

"How about next Saturday at the same time, in the same place?" you tried shooting your shot one last time.

He didn't say a word. However, he winked at you and then made his way out. That was all you needed. Now, sitting alone in the lonely club, you were so lost in your thoughts. Wow. Just wow. Lia finally made her way to you, way too drunk, and fell next to you. She didn't say a word, but let a sigh out.

"Can you drive home, Y/N?"

But you couldn't answer. You were only thinking about him. Anyway,

how long until next week?

[snoopyana]

all we do.

“ and she can’t leave me alone ‘cause i drive her body crazy. “

a thrilling night out leads to you in the back of an uber with some guy who may have been following you the whole night. but who cares? you’re drunk and in need of a quick one — and he’s more than willing to give you just that and a little more.

park wonbin. smut. darkish? you’re drunk and there’s a little hesitation.

the cool night air hit your body like a wave as you clung onto some guys arm for dear life. the music from the bar stationed right behind you filling your ears each time the door was abruptly swung open. your head was spinning, breathing sloppy. you were nearly black-out drunk. a few close friends had asked you to come out with them to kick off the long weekend. you, being more than happy to go out, excepted the invite with open arms. spending a few hours to get yourself situated — though, all that hard preparation would be thrown out the window once you had one too many shots.

you had left around 10, your friends saying to meet them at the first bar by 10, making it there a quarter after. it all became a blur afterwards. that’s how you ended up here. standing outside of some club waiting for your uber. but it wasn’t necessarily your uber. it was his. but who was he? as if you knew. all you knew was that he was fine and the alcohol in your system made you feel a certain way about being so close to him. his eyes would dart down to you with every movement you made. you swayed to the side a little? he’d be watching you intensely. trying to regain your balance? he’s now watching and slipping a hand around your waist. as he steadied your body, a black honda would pull up in front of you two, honking its horn to get your attention.

it made your head jolt up, stumbling forward, the man helped you to the vehicle, slipping you into the backseat. “where we headed?” the driver questioned, even though he already knew. he wanted to make sure you knew. looking at the driver with droopy eyes, the guy spoke for you, mumbling out some address that definitely wasn’t yours and a half-assed reason on why you can’t respond at the moment.

the drive was silent and you were fumbling with your phone. finger swiping through the multitude of missed calls and texts. texts of concern, all along the lines of “where’d you go” “who was he?” before you could even think of answering, your phone abruptly turned off. in an attempt to unlock it, the low battery symbol flashed on the screen. a defended sigh slipping past your lips. the vehicle stoped harshly stopping at a red light, giving you a moment to get a good look at the man next to you. “hi.”

confused, he glanced over at you. “hello.” his voice was laced with confusion, as if he didn’t expect you to actually know how to talk. there was silence from you, lips in a straight line as you thought of what to say. “where are we-“ you were stopped as the car jerked and moved again. “where are we going?” you questioned, sounding more aware now. city lights flashed across your face as you awaited an answer.

“remember? you said you wanted to go somewhere a little more private.” no, you didn’t. actually, you more or so said ‘what the fuck do you want.’ but you don’t remember that and you certainly didn’t mind either. a lazy smile spreading on your face as the realization of what he meant by, private, set in. besides, it won’t hurt if you don’t remember it.

humming in response , you surveyed the surroundings once more. laying your head back onto the seat of the car, a ringing filled your ears. god, maybe a chaser would have helped you in the long run. wonbin and the driver would look at you and then at each other, the driver would turn down the radio for your sake.

stopping in front of some apartment complex, wonbin was quick to pay off the driver before getting you out of the car. basically dragging you by your arm to the entrance. god, he had been waiting so long to get you alone. watching as you danced through the crowds of people, naively asking for something stronger each time you’re feet would stumble over to the bar.

finding it insulting when you rudely told him to fuck off when he did as much as attempt to talk to you. but he let it slide since you were still somewhat sober and couldn’t necessarily see him. but once he noticed that cutesy little slur in your words and how your fingers meekly pulled at the hem of your dress, he was sure he could get to you. managing to get you alone, persuade you into going with him. and that’s how you’re here. standing behind the man as he fumbled with his house keys. the fluorescent lights of the hall making your head spin.

pushing the door open, wonbin doesn’t give you even a moment to take in your surroundings. lips quickly colliding with yours, his hands groping and touching whatever he could. causing you to yelp in shock, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue into your agape mouth. his movements were quick, not giving you a single moment to do as much as breathe. your nails found security in his arms, digging into the flesh forming crescents in their wake.

he wouldn’t let up until he couldn’t breathe, finally pulling his face away to catch a glimpse at yours. lips parted, pupils dilated and hands still clawing at his biceps. a dazed expression took over your features and oh did he love it. lowering his head, wonbin was just a few centimeters from your ear. “loosen your grip.” your hands almost instantly falling to your sides, wonbin grasped your wrist. again, dragging you like a ragdoll into the next stop.

his room.

pushing you onto the comforter, it would be a lie to say that he wasn’t getting slightly impatient the more time went on. besides, he wasn’t one for prep anyway. a few kisses were good enough to get him ready for a quick pump and dump.

when your body sunk into the mattress, adding his weight into the equation — there was basically a dip at the edge. your legs dangled over the mattress, his hands working to pull the dress that you dawned, up your thighs and bunched up at your waist. “wait..” hands bolting towards his, your fingers stopped his from pulling off your panties. his gaze flickered up to meet yours — an annoyed huff leaving his mouth. the man rolled his eyes before smacking your hands away. “i don’t have all night.” yanking off the fabric, wonbin didn’t do as much as spare your face another glance. working to get his pants down, your body just barely in his peripheral vision.

the cold air of his room hit his now exposed dick, sending a shiver down his spine. gripping onto the fat of your leg, he slung the limb over his shoulder — desire quickly taking over his body. slipping his cock between your folds before forcing himself inside. his groaning paired with your moans mixed and bounced off the walls. clutching onto your ankle, he raised your leg into the air. his other hand finding a place on your hips. the sound of heavy breathing and skin slapping together filled any empty space in the air.

with your drunken state and this overstimulating feeling already building in between your legs, your body subconsciously started to move away from his grip. “can’t take it!” your hands reached out for whatever you could cling onto. your body was quickly pushed back onto his cock. looking up at him, you were met with a nasty glare. “stop fucking running and take it.” as each of his words rolled off his tongue, they were being backed up by a harsh snap of his hips. a mind numbing sensation running through your body — followed by you spewing out a string of sorrys’.

rutting into your womb, his once brutal pace was faltering. and before either of you knew it, he stilled — balls deep, the males body grew weak while emptying all he had inside of you. and we all know you’re a little dumb and just so happened to forget to take the pill tonight.

better pray it’ll work if you take it after the fact.

pulling out, wonbin quickly cleaned himself up. looking at the mess of his bed. breathing heavy, the ache in between your legs intensified. “i didn’t get to-“ a slap on your thigh quickly shut you up.

“yeah i know, now hurry up and get your shit. your Uber’s outside.”

me when i get carried away and make wonbin a little meaner than intended. guys, i have a problem! born to be a pillow princess that has rough fantasies?? but i hope you guys enjoyed and i hope i can find the same amount of motivation to right a soft fic like how i write these. but happy late wonbin day.

[digitaldiarystuff]

Age Doesn’t Matter (or does it?)

hi it’s me again and I’m soo happy about all the likes my stories have been getting, I would also love some requests maybe if I can picture them in my head like maybe descriptions and players, I actually have an idea in my mind for a long ass angst that deals with cheating but I don’t know who to write it for :( Also, enjoyy!

summary: You meet a boy at a club on a night out but realize he looks younger than he says he is

pairing: Pablo Gavi x Y/N

genre: fluff

————

“Come on Sara, we’re late!” you yell up the stairs while tying your shoes. This is a night out with the girls because the 4 of you are single for the first time and it was Annie’s 24’th birthday.

“Ok ok I’m ready.” she says while putting on her earrings and running down the stairs.

You arrive at the club soon after and pay the taxi. You get in and try to find your friends but soon Sara pulls you to the bar.

“We’ll eventually find them let’s take shots!” she scream and you join laughing.

It is like 5 or 6 shots in at the moment and you don’t even have a good sense of self. You laugh uncontrollably with her and your other friends and have the time of your life until you really have to use the bathroom. You know it’s unsanitary but you can’t care right now.

The line for the women’s bathroom is excruciatingly long and the mens’ is empty and you decide nothing’d happen if you just use that one instead.

You open the door without knocking and shocked to see a guy who is washing his hands looking at you with the same shock.

“Can I help you?” he asks not sure how to feel.

“Um, the line for the women’s is long and I really have to pee.” you admitted not caring if you look desperate, you are.

“Oh, okay let me just step out and you can use it.” he said and left.

You are so intoxicated but you still realize this boy looks incredibly hot, you smile and thank him.

After you’re done and washed your hands, you step out to find him still standing there.

“You didn’t leave?” you ask curiously.

“The door, uhm, it doesn’t lock so I didn’t want someone to walk in on you.” he admitted shyly scratching the back of his head. Before you thought he was cute but after seeing his arm muscles, he was hot and so were you.

“That’s so thoughtful, thank you. I’m Y/N.” you extended your hand and he takes it with a heartbeat.

“I’m Pablo.” he just said.

“So Pablo, it was nice sharing this bathroom story with you but I have to get back to my friends.” you said because every second you were getting more and more aware of your surroundings and wanted to find your friends.

“Oh okay.” he says sounding down. “Let me walk you to them.”

You walked together and he helped you get through sweaty dancing bodies around you. He was a true gentleman but as the lights of the club shined brighter, you saw his features and realized he may even be younger than you expected him to be.

You introduce your friends to him and watch them interact for a moment before he decides to get back to his friends at the booth, he invited you all but you didn’t know him that well to accept this invitation.

“So I guess I should go.” he says but you can tell he doesn’t want to. His arm is around your waist still from walking you. You noticed some girls eyeing you and giving you glares, thinking maybe they also liked Pablo or knew him from somewhere but to be honest, you were too drunk to care.

“Or maybe you could dance with me.” you suggested and even in the club setting, you can see his cheeks heat up.

He smiles and takes you to the dance floor holding you close, you’re both smiling and your arms around his neck. His hands slowly made their way to your hips and your foreheads pressed together, your bodies moving to the rhythm. It’s like electricity’s coursing through your bodies and everything else didn’t matter but as he’s leaning in, you just have a question.

“How old are you?” you ask completely ruining the mood but this was a pet peeve of yours, you don’t date younger guys.

“I’m 22” he says without thinking and since you’re 23, that’s not too bad. He must be one of those guys who’s babyface like JB. You shrugged it off.

“Can I kiss you now?” he asks wanting to create the moment you ruined back.

You smile and he leans in to capture your lips with his, it’s the best kiss you’ve had in a while. He guides you and uses just enough strength, still holding your body slowly dancing. He puts his hand on the hem of your dress slowly inching up and you gasp in surprise, he uses this opportunity to push his tongue inside your mouth and deepen the kiss. Your hands pull on the hairs on his neck as you felt over the moon, Pablo was too good with his hands and lips.

You pulled away after a few minutes, trying to catch your breath as he smiles at you. You smile back hoping this was as good for him as it’s good for you. Just as he’s leaning again and proving it was as good, Sara ran up to you saying she has work tomorrow and she has to leave. You know you can’t leave her alone in this drunken state and considering she’s your roommate why bother with 2 ubers when you can leave together but you weren’t exactly ready to say bye to Pablo.

He looks at you with piercing eyes, trying to read if you’re really leaving but you pout your lips as you explain it to him, he’s not happy but doesn’t do anything to stop you and slowly takes his hands off of you meanwhile the three of you are walking outside.

“Can I at least get your number so we can finish what we started another day?” he asks in a suggestive tone. You look at him and know you’re dying to do it so pick his phone off his hands and write down your number. He smiles and presses one last kiss to your lips before letting you and Sara get in the car and drive off.

You smile to yourself at how everything went down tonight, Pablo is nothing like you’ve ever been with before and he’s so refreshing you hoped he would text you, even if it’s totally sexual. You normally never do this, this is not you but his soft brown hair and those eyes looking into your soul made your knees go weak and you mind go numb. You wanted to see him again.

And your prayers are answered after you go into your room and had a quick shower to wash off the club scent off your body. He texted you.

“Did you make it to home safely?” he just said and you smiled to yourself at how thoughtful he is.

“Hello to you too Pablo, yes don’t worry. What about you?” you asked

“Me too, just in.”

You talked for a few minutes back and forth until his replies stopped and you figure he’s fallen asleep.

You decide to watch some reels before falling asleep yourself, going on insta and while going through some stories, you come across with suggested profiles, including Pablo’s. Your mouth fall to floor as you see his picture with a Barcelona shirt on and click on his profile, discovering he’s a football player for the team and realize what those looks at the club for. They weren’t because those girls wanted him, well maybe it was but it was also because they were shocked to see a footballer with a girl. You never cared about football so it’s natural you didn’t realize he was the Pablo Gavi but he didn’t mention it either.

You decide if he didn’t want you to know, you shouldn’t pry in his life further. Maybe he liked not being recognized so you go to click off his page until you see a birthday post he did in august. You smile at how happy he looks and read the caption about thanking everyone wishing him a happy birthday until you see a hashtag.

#19

You send him a final text before your eyes close and you drift to sleep.

“Really, you’re 19???”

[lunitawrites]

Both Sides of the Moon - part one

pairing: biker!joel miller x fem!reader rating: explicit word count: 2.8k summary: After a troubled childhood you move back to your hometown. You are trying to avoid facing the dark past of your family, but you realize it will be harder than you thought when a mysterious stranger appears in town trying to take revenge. TWs: no-outbreak AU, age gap (reader mid-twenties, Joel is late forties), loss of parents, reference to sex work, reference to foster homes, guns, knife, alcohol consumption, cigarettes, Joel being violent towards reader, petnames, reader has hair long enough that it can be grabbed, otherwise no physical description, no use of y/n a/n: hey! so this is my first attempt at writing, I really hope some of you out there will like it. I am eternally grateful to @papipascalispunk who reviewed and edited my work. Thanks a million to @toxicanonymity and @hier--soir for their suggestions! Shoutout to the other Joel Millers on bikes: a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike, jailbird by @toxicanonymity and little mouse by @katiexpunk & @josephquinnswhore masterlist

You are fidgeting with your nametag in front of the mirror, trying to apply it to your uniform, but you must have bent the needle when you removed it last time because it won't stay up now.

“Don’t worry about it darlin’,” you hear Arlene shout from the kitchen, “It's a small town, everyone knows you by now.”

“I suppose they do,” you mumble and drop the pin to the dresser. She's always been nice to you, almost mothering you, since you started working together in the diner. You take one last look in the mirror, smoothing out your uniform and walking through the kitchen to start your 7 PM shift.

It's a slow start. The townsfolk don't start coming until the sun paints the sky purple and orange, until the dust strats to settle and the cicadas’ song fills up the night. Your shift begins at the bar; whiskey, beer, salted peanuts, a smile or two for better tips. The bar fills up with a subtle buzz, stench of alcohol and anticipation.

Later on in the evening, Sam asks you to wait tables instead. You usually prefer staying behind the bar, but it's Friday night, the dining area will get busy soon. Arlene will need the extra pair of hands taking the orders anyway, so you pick up your notepad and pen and head out to the floor. 

You are always cautious out here, you have to be. The men are not violent, but they always try to take what they think they deserve. A brush of a knuckle on your thighs, eyes lingering on the swell of your breasts, an inappropriate comment disguised as a compliment, fingertips on the curve of your hips as they pass by. Sam, your boss, always makes sure that it’s not more, keeping an eye on you at all times from behind the bar. Sam is one of the few people who knows about your past, who knows that there were times when you were giving a lot more than a smile for some crinkled up bills, who knows that just a few months ago, your uniform was nothing more than a pair of thigh highs and your underwear.

—

You were six when your dad died, and you moved away with your mom right after. You stayed with her for another few months until they diagnosed her. She passed away before the next Christmas. By January, you were in your first foster home. After you got out from your last foster home with nothing more than a few pairs of clothes and the fifty dollar bill that you stole from your foster dad's wallet, you really didn’t see another option for survival. 

It started at a gentlemen's club called Red Rose, just outside of Austin, all neon lights and kitsch, velvet and satin from a decade before. They gave you a room in the motel next to it, but only if you worked the after hours shift, so you agreed. You didn't know what after hours meant at the time, but you would have agreed to almost anything if it meant that you would spend the night in a bed and not somewhere outside.

The after hours, you learned quickly, meant selling your body to anyone who took interest in it during the opening hours of the club. So while you did spend your night in a bed, it was with a truck driver named Dylan, who paid you hundred dollars for an hour of you being a good girl, as he described. Forty of those dollars covered the motel bill and twenty went to the club manager for organizing the deal.

You spent six years working at Red Rose, eventually saving up enough money so you didn't have to stay at the motel. You rented a flat with black mold and sticky linoleum floors, sharing it with three of the other girls from the club. You were driving an old Chevy that one of the girls passed onto you after she moved up north. Six years of Dylans and Bobs and Johns and Joses and Miguels. Six years of sweat and spit and bruises and slaps and come, until you couldn't anymore. 

You moved back to your hometown, although it was never really your home, and while you knew little about the circumstances of your father’s death, you were still afraid to come back, terrified to face the past. But as it turned out, you never had to, as if there was some silent agreement amongst the town that they never spoke of your family. No one gossipped, or if they did, they did so silently that it never reached your ears. They welcomed you into town as if you were a stranger. 

You moved into your old family home at the edge of town. White paint chipped from wooden boards, almost two decades of dust and sorrow covering every inch. You slowly made it your own home, settling into the master bedroom that was once your parents’, but leaving every other room untouched. You have not dared to open the door of your old bedroom yet. 

You still drove the old Chevy when you started working at Sam’s six nights a week, the only diner in town, serving the majority of the people who lived there.

—

It's Friday, which means a good crowd and better tips. Friday means an extra drink for everyone to celebrate yet another week survived in this dusty town in south Texas, just above the border. So you move among the tables with a smile so wide that your face starts to hurt.

It's almost eleven now and most of the tables are occupied; workers for their well-deserved after work drink, youngsters pregaming before driving up to Austin for a night out, some couples leaning over their drinks to be closer to one another, families finishing up their meals, greasy hands stopping you to order another basket of fries. The buzz is loud now, the air in the diner thick and heavy with alcohol and laughter. A usual Friday at Sam’s, until it isn’t.

The door squeaks open, heavy footsteps on the floor, broad shoulders in the doorframe. You really shouldn't be able to hear it over the sound of Friday in the diner, but you do. You lock eyes with deep amber, a pair of sad eyes, searching for a place to sit. Strong arms hidden under a black leather jacket, dark wash jeans, disheveled brown curls, almost halo-like, lit by the street lights behind him. The diner seems to catch up with you, surprised faces turning to the direction of the door, sentences left unfinished, whispers let out, cheeks turned red in surprise, Adam’s apples bobbing up and down. Is it? It can’t be. The sounds of Friday fun turn into whispers, and whispers turn to silence. Fear creeps up in your spine, something primal, something unexplainable.

He walks up to an empty table, heavy boots on sticky floor are the only sound now. The squeal of a chair, denim rubbing against the fake leather of the booth, fingers tapping on the tabletop, an impatient sigh. You move your feet from where they were rooted to the ground just a minute ago. Sweaty hands flipping paper on the notepad. You clear your throat before closing up the space between you and his table.

“What can I get you?”, your voice comes out raspy, almost scared. He looks up at you, a faint smile on his face, eyes not quite meeting yours. Instead, he looks at your lips, gaze burning on your skin, you press your lips together, as if you could hide them entirely. Your eyes flick over to the bar, searching for another pair of brown eyes, searching for comfort. But comfort is not what you find, Sam looks back at you with a wild gaze, almost panic in his eyes.

“Whiskey, neat,” the stranger says, now looking at his hands on the table.

“Coming right up!”, you answer with fake cheerfulness in your voice. Legs heavy as you move, “A whiskey, neat,” you say when you reach the bar, waiting for Sam to prepare the drink. You understand that the questions are not for now, the questions are for later. The people slowly turn their attention back to the drinks in front of them, conversations starting again. But still, the air stays as if it was frozen the minute the stranger came in, Friday never has been so quiet at Sam’s diner..

“There you go”, you say as you place the glass in front of him, voice heavy with the accent you thought you never had.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, not looking up at you this time.

Time feels slow, dragging on every minute, every second of the night. You cannot take being inside anymore. You feel like you are going to suffocate.

“I am going on my break,” you say quickly and don’t wait for anyone to acknowledge, just disappear through the kitchen. 

The muggy evening air hugs your skin as you open the back door of the diner. Being outside is just as suffocating as being inside, but at least it's quieter. You take a cigarette out from the crumpled package in your apron, place it between your lips but don't light it just yet. You should quit. You exhale sharply and put the cigarette back. Istead, you lean your head back to the wall, looking up at the moon. She's in her full glory tonight, casting pale light to the dark forest in front of you.

You are not sure what happened inside. This man who you are sure you have never seen in your life just woke up something deep inside you. You feel like you are drawn to him by a strange force, a force that is so foreign to you. There was a certain kind of sadness in his eyes that you only see when you look into the reflection of your own eyes. Grief. Lost. Denial. Something that balances between madness and sanity. 

You hear the front door open with a squeaking sound. Footsteps, drunk laughter and heavy drawls take over the silence of your break. You are about to go inside when you hear an intoxicated voice call out:

“Where do you think you’re goin´?” the drunk man shouts. “You think you can just walk in here and have a drink like the rest of us? Like you fuckin’ belong here.” he spits. The rest of the men stop talking. Now he is the only voice. “Let me tell you. You don´t. You should not come around anymore. You are not welcome here and you should know that.”

“So what happens if I do  come around?” the stranger's voice is laced with coldness. You slowly start walking to the front. You need to see him again. You need to understand what's happening. You feel yourself shaking, despite the warm humidity of the night. 'You should just stay out of it,' the voice in your head says, but you keep walking.

You peek around the corner of the diner. There he is with six men from the town. They all seem fairly drunk. They seem like they are looking for trouble.

“Well, if you are so fuckin´ sure you gonna come around,” he drawls “we might as well just give you a taste of what we are plannin´ to do with you. Right, boys?” he laughs and the men laugh with him, like a pack of coyotes. They all sound way too drunk to do any real harm, but there are six of them against him.

“Try me” the stranger grits through his teeth. He doesn't seem to be afraid, he seems like he would not care if he lives or dies. He seems like someone who gave up a long time ago.

“That ’s enough!” You shout and start walking up to the crowd. ”Go home or I will call Sam out and we will see who won’t be allowed to come around here anymore”. The loudest one flashes you a drunk grin and says: “That is just fuckin’ hilarious. You wanna protect him?” he asks.

“I am not protecting anyone, it’s my job to keep this place running. So I am doing just exactly that.” you say putting your hands on your waist. “Now, gentlemen, I would appreciate, if you all went home and cared about your wives and kids just as much as you care about your liquor. I reckon you had enough fun for tonight. Go! All of you!” you order them.

You are surprised to see that they do. It might be the mention of their wives and the reminder of how they would react if they saw them coming home drunk and all beaten up. The loudest one turns back for a second and addresses you. “You don’t know what you are doing.”

“I guess not.” you whisper and turn your head to the stranger.

“You didn't need to, darlin’. I can defend myself,” he says, drawl thick as the night above you. 

“Mhm, you seem like the type who can,” you say with a half smile. He laughs at that, but there is no humor in it. It should not be possible for a laugh to sound that sad.

“You new around here?”, he takes a step forward, cornering you to the wall. His eyes are searching for the name tag on your uniform. As he cannot find anything his eyes flick back to your face again. His gaze lights something up in you, deep inside your stomach. Frozen flames licking your insides. You are terrified of it, you are terrified of him.

“You can say that, moved back recently. And you? It seems like everyone knows you around here.” you say, heart pounding in your throat. 

“Wasn't hard to sense that, was it?”, you can feel his breath on your skin. Whiskey, burning on your cheeks.

“No,” you say, casting down your eyes. Somehow his proximity makes you restless. His presence makes the blood rush faster in your body. Your reaction is almost instinctual, you want to rip his flash and sink your teeth into him. To be closer or to get away. You are not sure.

He must sense it, a sly smile across his lips. He lifts his hand, hovers his knuckles over your cheeks tentatively. You are red burning fire. He brushes his knuckles over your left cheek, your chin, the curve of your neck. He rests his palm on your shoulder at last.

“You are shaking,” he murmurs. He takes his hand away. It's almost like you couldn't breathe while he touched you. Lungs filling up with air again. You lock eyes with him. “So what's your..,” he starts but cannot finish, Arlene opens the back door and calls your name. 

“Everything okay here?”, she asks.

His eyes darken. Amber turns black. “It's you,” he says, “I should have fuckin’ known.” One hand grabbing your hair, the other turning you around. Rough denim scratching the back of your thighs as he pushes you up to the wall. Head knocking on wood, you feel dizzy. You hear Arlene’s muffled scream, the door opening again. Cold steel pressed into your throat, you taste your death. “I couldn't have planned this better, could I?”, he whispers into your ear.

“Who the fuck are you? What do you want from me?”, you spit, fear blinding you as you try to grab a hold of him behind you.

“You don't know who I am? That's good. That´s just fuckin’ good”, he laughs, blood freezing in your veins from the sound of it.

You hear footsteps, Arlene’s breathy cry in the background. Boots then. Heavier than she could be. 

“Joel Miller,” Sam says with venom in his voice, “Leave her the fuck alone!”

His gun is pointing to Joel’s temple. Sam takes a step closer, “Get out of here. Right fuckin’ now.” Joel slowly releases the handful of hair he still has in his fist. As he does, a bitter smile spreads on his face.

“Another time then,” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear. He steps back, walks slowly to the parking lot where he swings his leg over a 1990 Harley-Davidson, the exact same model that is in your father's garage. 

You look at Sam, eyes blurred with tears and confusion.You are certain of one thing, and one thing only. Joel Miller wants to kill you.

—

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are much appreciated. Please let me know if you'd like to be on the tag list for the next parts!

[thisismeracing]

#9 with Lewis!

coming right up! ✍🏾🫶🏾

From the Quick Prompt List: 9. “Can you come pick me up?”

word count: 0.5k

pairing: reader (she/her pronouns) x lewis hamilton

warnings: mentions of alcohol, club and a bit of tooth-rotting fluff.

It was past midnight, Yn's friends were somewhere in the middle of the club drinking and dancing, and she was way too tired and tipsy to bother leaving the bar. Her body was achy after working all day and she only agreed to come because it has been forever since they went out together, but right now, Yn was starting to regret not going home.

She watched as the lights flicked again, the neon hurting her eyes and making her dizziness worse. Her phone buzzed with a random notification that lit up her screen and she stared at the picture of her boyfriend and his dog, her favorite picture of them, her lock screen.

Yn didn't think too much before getting up and dialing his number from heart while walking to the back entrance where the sound of the loud music was muffled.

"Hi, Lew, can you come pick me up?" she mumbled pressing the device closer to her ear. It wasn't common for Yn to ask him favors, although Lewis would hardly consider it a favor, but the fact was: Yn did not like to ask Lewis things, she did not like to "be a bother" and it doesn't matter how many times he would tell her that she was not bothering and that he would gladly do anything for her, she still would take forever before giving in. That's why he was confused when she asked him to pick her up, because she was out with friends in a club located 40min from his house.

"Yeah, babe, I'm on my way, but is everything ok?" he asked, already grabbing his keys and wallet.

Yn nodded but then remembered he couldn't see her.

"I'm fine, just not really in the mood to party. I'm too tipsy and there's too much light and too much noise, I just wanna get home to you and Roscoe," she explains.

Lewis stops for a second once again, because that was another first. She was referring to his house as "home" and she wanted to get back to him and Roscoe. His heart pulsed faster.

"Do you want me to stay with you on the line? Are you sure you're safe?" he asked, getting inside his car and starting the engine.

"I am ok, but if you could stay on the line I would appreciate it."

"Anything for you, gorgeous," he answered and she smiled lazily. "I'm making it there in 20 ok?"

"But it's a 40min drive," she stated.

"I'm making it in twenty," he repeated, and sure enough in twenty minutes his park was outside the club. Yn found her friends on the dance floor and bid her goodbye before running to her boyfriend. Lewis was leaning against the car, arms crossed, eyes cast on the door as if waiting for her to show up, and when she did his face lit up in a small grin.

"You're absolutely the best, I am so sorry for-"

"You won't ever bother me, Yn. I would pick you up in hell if you asked me to, I love you," he whispers.

Yn smiles hugging him closer and tighter. She was already home although they were still 40min away from his house.

Hope you guys like it -insert here messsage about liking, reblogging, ranting on my inbox, letting me know your thoughts etc etc etc- byeee *mwah*

[andy-15-07]

A new chapter

masterlist ! pairing: Tom Blyth x reader

SUMMARY : a beautiful morning with the children

GENRE: fluff, loveeee

My life has become better and better since I met my boyfriend, Tom Blyth. We have been together for 6 months, I met Tom at a party.

It was my friend's birthday and she decided to celebrate her birthday in the club, each of them went where they wanted, some went to the bar and the others went dancing with some boys they barely knew I was also left alone, but I went to the bar, not that I wanted to drink alcohol, just to hang out and maybe have someone to talk to.

Then someone approached me, a tall, blue-eyed and very handsome boy, and I remember his words 'What is a beautiful girl like you doing alone in a club?'.

Then we decided to leave the club and go somewhere quiet, he surprised me, he chose to walk around the park, for me it was the most romantic thing. From that moment I realized that it won't be just a friendship but something more.

I'm in front of the door of his apartment, he invited me for the night, when I knock on the door, my boyfriend opens the door, even at this moment I'm not used to Tom being my boyfriend, he steps aside and motions for me to enter the apartment .

"Hey babe" he says and kisses me

"Hello", even though it's been 6 months since we've been together and now I still blush when he kisses me, when he caresses me and when he just looks at me.

"I thought that tonight we will have a movie marathon, we will order food and after we lie down in bed hug, what do you say my dear?"

"I agree with you love, let's make this a wonderful evening." , I tell him and I go closer to him and put my arms around his neck and bring him closer to me and I look into his eyes and see that he is happy, he puts his hands around my waist and comes closer to me to kiss me, I accept his kiss, I feel my dear lover smiling during the kiss.

"Let's go to the bedroom, I've prepared almost everything." he tells me and takes my hand and we head towards his bedroom.

It's not the first time I go to his bedroom, but every time he surprises me. I go in and see that you have prepared the whole bedroom, there were pillows on the bed, he took out that fluffy blanket that he knows I love, but he doesn't know that I don't like the blanket, what I like the most is when I'm in bed with him and we cover ourselves with that blanket.

The light was off, the only source of light was from the television, it was an atmosphere like in the movies, but it was even more beautiful, I am with my boyfriend, what more could I ask for. I feel him go behind me and put his hands around me and rest his head on my shoulder.

"What do you think? I know it's not much but for me it's special and I know you feel the same, I chose your favorite movie, we do everything you want. Because you're special to me." he tells me and these words move me and make me fall in love with him even more.

"I like it, thank you baby!" I say to him and go back into his arms and kiss him.

After some time, when we are in bed, in each other's arms watching the movie, I feel Tom's eyes looking at me and when I lift my head I smile at him and approach him, kissing his jaw.

"Y/n I know we haven't been together for a long time but for the first time when I saw you I realized that you are special and I saw my whole life in your eyes, I want to take the next step. Y/n, love, do you want move in with me?" He tells me and I can tell by the tone of his voice that he is excited.

"Yes, a million times yes. I love you Tom Blyth with all my heart." I tell him and kiss him as if my life depends on the kiss.

"I love you too Y/n L/n" he says and kisses me again, I can feel him smiling throughout the kiss.

It is not a simple relationship, he is my soulmate and I would do anything for him and he would do anything for me.

[slexenskee]

Don't Forget About Us (MDNSY Oneshot)

Makoto spares him an unimpressed look. “You looked like you were going to cry in front of a KFC of all fucking things a couple hours ago— and now you’re the drunkest I’ve seen you in months and seem determined to somehow sing your way out of a crisis.”

For an ask about the new bff learning about the past bff

Read here [link] or below:

“Not here,” Satoru says, which draws her up short.

They’ve just finished up a show at a nearby club, and despite the late hour are utterly ravenous. Kenji and Yui begged off for the night, leaving Makoto alone with her lead singer. Makoto has led them to the nearest appropriately greasy and unhealthy restaurant within eyeshot— a KFC. Not her go-to pick as far as fast food or even fried chicken is concerned, but beggars can’t be choosers. 

Except they can, apparently, because Satoru seems pretty staunch in his disapproval. 

Makoto stares at him incredulously. “Don’t tell me you’re on a diet,” she laughs, joking.

Her laughter fades as Satoru’s expression remains unchanged. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen that look on him before. Distant and constellated. Even with his glasses off he’s a bit impossible to read. 

“Seriously?” Her look turns skeptical. 

He’s the size of a waif and eats more sugar than should be statistically possible. And a bit of processed fast food is hardly the worst thing he’s done to himself in the time she’s known him. The cigarette dangling from his lips is a sure sign of that. And since when does he have a problem with fast food after a live show? He lives for this shit. 

“I just don’t like fried chicken,” he returns, which is a blatant lie if she ever knew one. He likes fried chicken just fine; he especially likes it at one in the morning, when he’s starving after a setlist. 

She rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, get something else on the menu then.” She’s starving right now, and the tantalizing scent of fried food is only making it worse.

“Anywhere but here,” he says, and this time, she can hear the threadbare shot of panic in the bottom of his voice. 

Does he… Is he being serious right now? Evidently yes. Taking another look at him, he really does look unwell. 

“Okay,” Makoto says, slowly, taking a step back from the well-lit doorway. “We’ll go somewhere else, then.” 

“Preferably with alcohol involved,” Satoru adds, flippantly, and turns on his heel, as if the sight of a single fast food restaurant sign could do more damage to him than the excessive alcohol he’s about to consume. 

Makoto lets it go, for the time being. This weird but shockingly talented bandmate of hers has the strangest hangups sometimes. She’s just learned to accept them, for the most part. And not ask too many questions— he gets real squirrelly with those. And every time she thinks she’s getting closer to the truth of him, he twists the paradigm around with yet another absurd and/or vaguely horrifying revelation.  

Makoto shoves them into the nearest izakaya she can find— ironically a yakitori joint with ample fried chicken on the menu— and immediately orders them a round of beers that Satoru tacks on with a bottle of sochu. Ah. So it’s going to be one of those nights. They order a responsible amount of food with their drinks for the first few rounds, but eventually it just turns into the two of them getting wildly drunk and staggering out of the place draped over each other in search of the nearest karaoke bar. 

Makoto would have thought the guy would have had enough of singing, what with performing a whole setlist just a few hours ago, but drunk!Ru-kun really only has two modes, slutty stripper Ru-kun or karaoke star Ru-kun, and since he’s still hung up over Hawks these days, it looks like they’re shutting down the karaoke bars tonight. 

Not that Makoto minds, necessarily. It’s been ages since they’ve had a night out like this, and she’s got a whole weekend to be miserable and recover from what’s shaping up to be a raging hangover before she has to drag herself to work again. And for whatever reason, she’s sensing Satoru might be in desperate need of a night out himself. 

The place they stumble into is equal parts nightclub and karaoke bar: a large, darkly lit open interior sprawls before them packed to the gills with dancers; disco lights zip across the crowds and the bottle services girls fighting their way to their tables with sparkling champagne thrust into the air like shooting stars; and at the far end an inebriated girl with cat ears is belting out a fairly decent rendition of Mariah Carey’s Shake it Off as she struts across the bar. In short, this is probably exactly the sort of place they were both looking for. 

Makoto swindles them a free table with a bit of flirting with the hostess, and finds herself holding court among a generous crowd of random inebriated strangers thrilled to get drinks off her tab, while Satoru wanders off to find the mic. She loses track of him for a bit, but is unsurprised when he resurfaces wearing someone else’s blonde wig, up on the bar himself singing Baby One More Time as he fumbles his way through the dance routine with the cat-eared girl in tow. Still in his stage outfit from earlier in the night, he honestly looks like someone paid him to be up there, which is probably why the entire bar is clamoring towards him like he’s a celebrity or something. 

He shows up at her table eventually, sprawling himself over her and the booth with his borrowed blonde wig in tangles across his face. She throws it off him as he makes grabby hands for a bottle of champagne on the table. She should probably cut him off at this point, but she’s wasted herself and doesn’t have enough fucks to care anymore, so she just pours them both another glass and clinks their glasses together. 

She has no idea what time it is when she starts to feel hungry again and orders food. They could have been in this place for hours or days, and she wouldn’t be able to tell; it doesn’t seem to be in danger of closing on them any time soon. The crowds come and go, but the place stays packed and the loud music has yet to bother her, so she doesn’t feel inclined to leave. What would be the point? There’s no food at her apartment, and ever since she broke it off with her last fling, no one waiting for her either. From the way Satoru constantly gets his turn at the mic, she doubts he’s in any rush to leave either. 

So maybe they’re both just eager to run away from things. But for his sake, she should probably get him to talk about it. The last time he was having some kind of internal crisis he was trying to drown out with alcohol, he’d ended up sleeping with a Top Three Hero and catching feelings for him.

“Okay, so what the hell brought this on,” she finally corners him, after he’s done with an obnoxiously impressive cover of Despacito for a guy who speaks absolutely no Spanish, and is once again sprawled in the booth with her.  

“What? Nothing.” She supposes she should at least be happy to see him putting orange juice in his champagne, even if he’s yet to touch any of the food. 

Makoto spares him an unimpressed look. “You looked like you were going to cry in front of a KFC of all fucking things a couple hours ago— and now you’re the drunkest I’ve seen you in months and seem determined to somehow sing your way out of a crisis.”

“It’s not my fault everyone keeps shoving the mic at me and picking great songs,” he retorts, stubbornly. 

This probably means she should drop it and just let him run away from his own problems, but beyond just trying to save himself from the worst of his own vices, at this point she’s also just curious. 

“Fine, drink your way out of a crisis,” she amends, then shoves a plate of dosas at him. “And at least eat something if you’re going to do that. I’m not dragging you home if you’re too drunk to walk.”

Satoru pouts ferociously, but nonetheless reaches for a crepe and tears off a bite. “I’m not having a crisis,” this idiot insists, like the emotionally stunted idiot he is. 

“Really? Let’s go to a KFC then, if you’re not having a crisis about it. We’ll bring the whole band.”

“I’m not having a crisis about fucking fried chicken, okay,” Satoru says, expression turning a bit pinched. “I just— it was bad timing, is all. If I hadn’t just gotten done with playing our last setlist I would have been fine to eat there.”

This draws Makoto up a bit short. Her brow creases. “What does the setlist have to do with it?”

Satoru stares at her for a moment, indecipherable. Then he grabs his champagne and downs the whole thing. He sets the empty glass on the table as he says, “I almost had to kill my best friend in front of a KFC, once.”

It’s so unexpected she nearly drops her own drink. “What?” 

No, seriously. What the fuck? 

“He’d gone off the rails and killed a bunch of people,” Satoru continues, only bewildering her further. “I was supposed to put him down, but at the time I just couldn’t do it. I tracked him down, stood outside the store ready to kill him, and I just… I couldn’t do it.” 

Makoto leans back in her seat, reeling. 

She’d call it some bizarre made up bullshit, but sadly, every facet of Satoru’s life sounds like bizarre made up bullshit, so it’s probably the truth. 

She scrambles for a response. “I— when was this?” 

“A while ago,” he answers, clipped. He reaches for the entire bottle of champagne, and this time doesn’t even bother with the glass. She doesn’t stop him. 

She has no idea what she expected from this mysterious and eccentric bandmate of hers, but admitting to attempted murder was really not in her cards for the guy. Then again, what did she expect? She watches him down the entire bottle as she tries, and fails, to get her thoughts together. There’s just so much to infer from this and she doesn’t even know where to start. Just what kind of guy was his best friend, that he’d gone on a killing spree? And why would it ever be Satoru’s responsibility to execute him for his crimes? And what does that have to do with their setlist? 

She at least gets one of the answers she’s searching for.

Satoru wipes at his mouth, looking out into the strobe lights as he says, “He wasn’t a bad person. He just… wanted more than life could ever grant him.” 

Makoto blinks, realization dawning hard and fast. 

(I wanted more than life could ever grant me)

Satoru never talks about how he writes his music. He swears, in fact, that it doesn’t really mean anything to him at all— that he just makes them up off the top of his head. Makoto had never once believed that, and now she has the proof. She’s heard him sing Today is the Greatest hundreds of times at this point, but she’d always thought it was about himself. The more she learns about him, the more she realizes some of those lines align a little too closely to his own experiences to be anything but personal. But she supposes two things can be true at once; that song can be about him, but still remind him of a friend he’d lost. 

She almost doesn’t want to ask, but… “What happened to him?”

Even the stifling, crowded warmth of the nightclub plunges into ice as he says, without looking at her, “I can only hope he found more peace in death than he did in life.” 

Makoto startles at the implication. 

But at the time, I just couldn’t do it. 

So he managed it, in the end? 

Before she can even fathom up a response, the cat-eared girl is leaping over the booth to wrap her arms around Satoru, begging him to get up and help her duet yet another Mariah Carey song. 

“Make it Don’t Forget About Us and I’ll do it,” he says. 

Without hesitation she agrees, and he grabs his ridiculous wig and jumps over the seat to join her. He’s probably eager to once again run away from his feelings and, this time, she can’t blame him whatsoever. Or on second thought, as they really get into it in the chorus, she has to wonder if this isn’t actually him running from his feelings so much as confronting them head on? "When it’s real, it’s forever" indeed. 

//

She learns a hell of a lot about her ridiculous bandmate over the course of the following months, but she never quite gets a straight answer over his former best friend, and possibly first love, and she never directly asks, either. If he wants to tell her, she’ll listen, but otherwise she’ll let him approach it in his own time. 

But she does make sure he knows she’s around if he ever wants to talk about it. 

They’re at that same R&B karaoke joint, this time enjoying their time in a far more sedate and far less exorbitant manner with drinks at the bar. Satoru has long since lost that blonde wig, but the bartenders have clearly never forgotten ‘Karaoke Queen Ruru’ because they shower them with a generous amount of free shots and make pointed questions about the karaoke queue every time. Satoru waves them off with a laugh though, insisting he’s just here for a quiet night out. 

“You’ve gotten boring ever since you got wifed up,” Makoto denounces as he hedges off yet another turn at the mic.

Satoru’s expression turns a bit pinched— and panicked. “I’m not married,” he hisses, furtively. “And don’t say that so loud! I don’t need the rumors to get any worse.” 

“Not married yet,” Makoto revises, rolling her eyes. “For reasons that still allude me. What are you waiting for, exactly? You can’t ask for a more public or dramatic proposal than the one you already got.”

“It’s not that,” he insists, rolling his glass in his hands. 

Makoto blinks at him. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.”

“I’m not,” Satoru remarks, although he does look a bit shifty-eyed. Makoto squints at him. A bit of dread sinks in her stomach.

“Satoru,” she starts, cautiously. “If you really don’t want this…”

“It’s definitely not that either,” he assures her quickly. His mouth pinches into a tight line. “I know it took me, like, an inconceivably long amount of time to get to the point where I can admit it outside of our various discographies, but I do want Hawks. I don’t have any doubts about it.” 

He stops, the silence holding for a heavy, offbeat moment as he seems to want to say more, but can’t manage to force the words out. Makoto isn’t sure what else to do but wait patiently for him to finish, and when he doesn’t, flag the bartender down for shochu shots. Nothing like a bit of liquid courage to brace yourself for some trauma dumping. 

Satoru huffs out a laugh as she rolls one down the bar towards him, clinking their glasses together. “Thanks,” he says, as they cheers.

“What are friends for?” She counters, tossing the shot back. 

Satoru follows her, then sets the glass back down on the bar as he wipes the salt off his lips. “I don’t have any doubts,” he repeats, after a moment. “I guess I just… need a bit more time to let go.”

Let go? Her brow furrows in confusion. Let go of what? 

Then she remembers the last time they were at this bar. The last time Satoru had run away from his past straight into the arms of excessive alcohol and a cat-eared girl singing R&B classics. Remembers his request for his last song, where he’d stood on top of a filthy bar and belted out, “I’m just speaking from experience, nothing can compare to your first true love” to a packed dance floor all singing along with their hands in the air. 

She sets her own glass down. “Were you and your friend… were you two like that?” She asks, hesitantly. 

Were you lovers, before you killed him? 

She’s a little relieved when he shakes his head. Romantic or not, she’s sure that doesn’t lessen the pain, just makes it a different kind of regret. 

“No. Well— not exactly.” He looks conflicted. “We never… it was never like that. It might have been, but, well…” 

Then he had some kind of psychotic break and turned into a mass murderer, and Satoru had to be the one to put an end to him permanently. Right. What a fucking mess. No wonder this guy has spent most of his life doing his level best to avoid his own past. The more she learns about it, the more depressing it gets. 

She nudges him sympathetically with her knee. “It’s okay to mourn the loss of what could have been,” she says, gently. “It’s not wrong to need time to move on— no matter how much time that is.”

Satoru nods, looking lost in his own thoughts. 

Makoto bites her lip. “... Does Hawks know?” 

He blinks, surfacing from his own head to look at her. “Yeah,” he answers, without hesitation. Then he lets out a sharp, bitter chuckle. “He knows everything, but he sticks around anyway. I don’t really know what I did to deserve him.” 

“And what are the rest of us then, chopped liver?” She kicks him in the shin. “I’m not going anywhere either, you jerk.” 

Satoru’s eyes are very wide as he stares at her. Then he ducks his head, a bit bashful. “Yeah,” he agrees, looking a little wistful. “I got really lucky with all of you, didn’t I?” 

“Damn right you did!” She kicks him again for good measure. “I’m sticking around, no matter how many stupid identity reveals you try to throw at me. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” 

He barks out a laugh, grinning widely. “Good! Mark your words, I’m holding you to that!” 

(And when he confesses his plans for an anime of all fucking things, and reveals an entire past life’s worth of trauma at them, she screams a lot but she does, indeed, stick around to turn it into the best damn anime ever produced.)

--

idk I was listening to a lot of Mariah Carey's 2000's hits and remembered I'd made another Satoru cross-dressing alter-ego specifically to sing R&B karaoke hits so here we are 🤷‍♀️

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[imweirdimjazzy]

Questions of Hell

Pairing: Alastor x GN!Reader

Description: after tiring a day, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea for the radio demon chasing you with questions spending the night, right?

Warnings: mentions of drugs and that’s about it (alastor is prick btw)

Word count: 2104

A/N: hello! This is kinda my first time posting here in tumblr so bear with me on my first post here. Also this isn’t proofread so there could be couple of mistakes here and there so I’m sorry about that. No use of Y/n. But please enjoy it! Btw this fic can be taken as romantic or platonic either could work. Enjoy! :)

For most of my human life I thought death would be simple and morbid. Once life expectancy reaches its limit for how much it can go, the body starts to get tired and the brain will shut, just as the body decomposes.

And just like that you would be dead.

I never tried hard to question the afterlife since it had gave me a headache if I had think too hard about it but I do admit I had a few times where I did think about it too hard.

I just didn’t expect to wind up as a goddamn sinner in a literal pot of hell.

I can admit I wasn’t exactly the most holiest person. I fucked up. Quite a lot of times. And I suppose that life is all about whether you be rewarded to get into heaven or thrown down to hell for punishment.

And for that I now have to deal with the princess of hell and her friends in the Hazbin Hotel.

Charlie was energetic to know that I was another guest at the hotel ready to redeem sinners and probably grab the chance to get to heaven. Seems quite ridiculous once the opportunity was handed to me. Honestly I stayed because I knew nowhere else would let me stay without paying or doing something to repay back.

Yet I got to meet some of the most interesting people. Starting with Angel Dust who was porn star himself and only seems to make it his whole personality but he sure knew how to make a party start going. He also makes anything—and I mean ANYTHING to be dirty.

Vaggie who seems to be strict on everyone and trying her best for all of us to actually have good morals. Sure, we didn’t care but we all understood she wanted for the best of us. Sir Pentious was there to spy on them because of the Vees but then accidentally liked the idea of staying and making a better change of himself.

And there was Nifty who has a certain quirk driven into her personality that was unlike everyone else but she was almost a kid just needed to be protected. Just try not to get stabbed by her. Husk who seems to tell everyone to fuck off even though he’s bartender and you’re sitting at the bar specifically wanting a drink. He acted he hated everyone, but he never really did. He just hated someone who seems to fake who they actually are.

And I’m guessing that’s why he isn’t particularly fond of Alastor.

Alastor is a unique demon. To say in a short sweet way to not say any bad word on his name. Yet it’s hard to say he’s quite a mystery to all of us. Charlie might own the hotel but Alastor is faculty manager of the hotel. He’s always looming somewhere in here and always there with an eye to watch us.

I have to admit I even avoid him. His presence was kind I never had bump into, I rather make it stay that way.

My legs had grown numb and heavier as I kept walking back to the hotel. I was exhausted from Charlie’s shenanigans today. Trying to encourage other sinners out there to come to the hotel and save themselves from the extermination. Failed horribly since how many either attempt to kill us, offer sex, or offer straight up cocaine.

I gave up and had left Charlie with the others to keep going. It was getting late either way and they were planning to go into club.

Didn’t want to get myself into too much trouble anymore either way.

Pushing the doors to let myself in the hotel—I had let out an exhale that I had held all day. My body was slumped and all I could think was my comfy bed.

“My, my, you look quite a mess dear!”

The radio voice had made me slightly jump out of my skin.

To the right of me I could see Alastor sitting on a couch in the lobby. One hand with whiskey in a glass cup and the other with a book. His legs crossed with one leg on top bouncing to the sound of jazz playing background.

“Alastor?”

“Didn’t expect a fellow like me up around this hour, but I couldn’t resist such a great novel here wouldn’t you say?”

He made that little hum that sparked a few radio statics in his voice.

“Look, if you’re here to mock or annoy me today I make sure those antlers of yours are gonna be long gone before you know it.”

Alastor laughed and got up with swift movement with his cane. That smile was almost stitched to his face every glance I took of him. I expect there won’t be a day where I don’t see that venom smile of his.

His hands clasped in front of him as he eyed me down. “Now why would I do that? I merely checking up on is all.”

He said it with such a smirk in his voice.

“Sure, whatever, do what you want I guess,” I grumbled under my breath.

Attempting to head upstairs, Alastor tried to get in my way as he kept reappearing in front of me in every corner I try to go.

“What the—“

“Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you’re going?” A playful tone was layered into his voice. Letting out chuckle as his antlers move just for a second.

He knew it was getting on my nerves.

“To my room. Is there something that you want?”

I was a bit hesitant when I first spoke, especially since Alastor was a type of demon who never necessarily wants nothing out of someone except manipulation.

He makes that same hum again, letting out a sing-song voice. “Well, I’m bored and I’m in the mood of doing something.”

“Okay—kill someone or some deer.”

I tried again walking away but he reappears again in front of me on the steps of the stairs. Keeping his eyes on me as he leaned on the handrail of the stairs. I could tell from his eyes that my annoyance was kicking the roof by now.

“Not really in the mood for that kind of fun tonight dear. I was actually hoping to maybe play some sorts of game with you.”

“A game?” I questioned.

“Yes! Just any sort of ordinary game. A game where I can ask questions about you and you have to answer them.”

I blinked at him for a moment and then narrow my eyes.

“So you’re interrogating me.”

“No, nonsense! Now, come on, sit on the couch and make yourself comfortable.”

Alastor nudge me downstairs and I follow him. I had no choice and I rather didn’t wanna push any limits with radio demon exactly. He wasn’t the type to be messing around.

Suspicion was written all over my face as I sat down.

Alastor offers whiskey in a glass with a smile. “Whiskey, dear?”

“Um—-no, no thank you.”

He sets the glass on the side table along with the book. Peering to my side I notice the book was the classic Dracula book.

Alastor sat on the other end of the couch. A leg propped on the other. Resting his chin on his hand on the arm rest.

“Now, I’ll start of the with an easy question to start off soft,” stated Alastor. “Do I annoy you?”

“Yes. Next question.”

His smirk grew wide yet his eyes narrowed down on me. Letting out a laugh that sounded for sure forced but as well annoyed.

“Okay, let me ask an easier question. What is your favorite color?”

“Oh well um—maroon. Maroon is my favorite color.”

Alastor hummed to himself. “Quite an unique answer. Didn’t take you as the type to like color such as maroon.”

“Red or maroon. I just like good color of red. Next question.”

Alastor tapped his fingers along the arm rest as he thought of another question to ask.

“What’s your favorite time of day?

Looking back at him with a tilted head I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Alastor rolled his eyes jokingly and chuckled, seeming slightly amused of me. “I mean exactly what I said. What is your favorite time of day? Mornings? Afternoons? Nights?”

He lists off with this condescending tone, as if he spoke to me as a child.

“Watch your tone, and watch your ears, deer,” I hissed. But since you’re so damn curious. It’s night. And sometimes late afternoons. Not as much anymore though. I love them more in human life.”

“Human life you say?”

Alastor watches me as I adjust the black turtleneck I wore.

“Next question please.”

Alastor didn’t say anything but made a louder hum as he thought. Still overbearing me with annoyance of course.

“I’m running out of quite a lot of questions here but I suppose I should’ve asked this first, how are you liking this hotel so far?”

The tone switches and audibly notices it. Turning into this nonchalant tone. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to be curious or crack me under pressure with his eyes seeming to only stare at me.

With a sharp inhale I spoke direct.

“Annoying as fuck. I never was too fond of the idea of redeeming since it was hard to wrap my head around the fact that sinners here can even get the chance to go up to heaven with the rest of angels.”

He kept silent with his smile but I kept continuing.

“I didn’t think it would work. And I still have mixed feelings about it but…I do have to admit I kinda like the friends I made here.”

His eyebrow raised and he tilted his head almsot intrigued of what I had said. “I see. And these friends you’ve made here..”

His smile twisted into a smirk as he leaned forward slightly, his elbows on his knees.

“Any particular ones you admire the most?”

It was a question that had me actually thinking this time around and I knew it was a way for Alastor to get to me, and I didn’t want him too.

“Well, each person has their own unique thing to admire.”

He tweaks his head to the side and only narrows his eyes. Still with smile.

“Charlie can be a lot and maybe too hyper, but she’s willing to give people a chance. Vaggie pushes everyone and is harsh but does it for us to get better.. Sir Pentious is someone willing to give up villainous tendencies. Angel is…well Angel but he is a friend that is loyal and would do anything to back up friend.

Husker and Nifty are the same as well. All of them have everything to admire about.”

Alastor listened intently on how I spoke each of the hotel residents living here

“Interesting. Very interesting.”

He sat back once again, his legs still crossed and his hands back in his lap. Alastor chuckled again, looking at me for a moment.

“And what about me? Is there anything you admire about me?”

I scoffed and smirk a little.

“A bit full of yourself are you?”

His eye twitched a little and seemed ready to respond, but I quickly added on.

“You always stay in control. Even if you aren’t or you’re not wanting to, you always are. You piece of shit who certainly earn a spot living here. I’ll give you that, but even I can admit that you’re intelligent in what you do. Even how manic and evil it can be.”

Alastor chuckled again. He was quite amused by my words. That wasn’t what he was expecting, but he was satisfied by it. He leaned forward a bit again, resting his arms on his legs. His elbows on his knees once again as he stared right into your eyes with his permanent smirk.

“How observant you are my dear. I thought you’d think of me as a annoying bastard”

“No, I also think that too.”

A smile spread on my lips as genuine the pit of fire in hell and before another word had slipped out of Alastors mouth, a rush of familiar friends came through the door.

“I need fucking a drink what the hell was that!?” Angel's voice rang through the hotel and same with others.

I laughed and got distracted by them as soon they called for me but Alastor sat on the couch there observing the others.

Asking himself many questions of himself now.

For how much this sinner might’ve made him rethink his plan.