#our drink driving ads are brutal

[s0fter-sin]

sometimes i remember our official government funded anti drink driving campaign motto is “drink driving? selfish prick”

[miamochi-writes]

Treading Carefully

a/n: Hi everyone! This was a request from one of my friends who also loves Vash! Let me know what you think :) 

You were a mercenary just living day by day to get by. You learned how cruel it was to live and survive in No Man’s Land when the cops robbed your family of their basic necessities. In order to help out, you traveled to each city hoping to raid or steal a couple of supplies from people who were well off. Because of that, you racked up a high bounty on your head from previous cities you’ve visited. Thankfully, you weren’t on the bounty list yet. 

You ended up in Jeneora where the heat was brutal and slowed you down to your destination as you were slightly dragging your black combat boots. You got a tip from someone that the next town over had some homes that the rich weren’t occupying at the moment. You might as well raid it if no one was there right?  You could tell Jeneora was suffering just from looking at the water they offered you with your beer. From the way you walked in everyone was looking at you. 

You didn’t blame them since you dressed pretty differently in your forest green and white jacket that trailed down your thighs that hid your dark attire. You looked at the bartender and even she was pregnant and running the place herself. You looked at some of the kids and pitied them, no kid should have to struggle like this.

“So what brings someone like you here?” the bartender asked.

“Just doing some sightseeing before I see my family. I would have continued, but this heat is insane,” you replied. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but you couldn’t give away too much info.

“Yeah, that’s Jeneora for you. Sorry about the water. Our plant is busted somehow, so we’re stuck trying to buy water at the next town over,” she apologized as she cleaned some of the glasses.

You felt for her as you took a sip of your beer. 

“How far along are you?” you asked looking at her swollen abdomen.

“Just a few more months until the baby arrives,” she replied rubbing her belly.

You thought about it and figured you might as well get some extra items once you make it to the next city.

Just then you heard a couple of men yelling from outside and sounded like it was coming closer. Three cops busted into the bar as you sighed. So much for the peace and quiet.

“Anyone seen the Humanoid Typhoon? If so start talking!” one of the guys shouted as the other guy held up a Wanted poster. You heard about Vash the Stampede and the rumors about him causing chaos in cities. You’ve seen that poster before, but honestly something felt off about it. You couldn’t place your finger on it, but as long as he didn’t get in your way you didn’t make a big deal out of it.

“Hey lady!” you heard someone shout by your ear.

You rolled your eyes before you turned around to see the cop was standing next to you with the wanted poster.

“Yes officer?” you asked.

“Have you seen him or not?” he asked.

“Hm maybe buy me a drink first and I might answer,” you replied getting closer to him as you put your hand on top of his hand that held the poster so he lowered it. That slightly caught him off guard as you made your next move.

“After all, someone as hard working as you must be tired after searching high and low in this hot weather. Why don’t you relax?” you added as you moved your hand to his back to move him closer to you. The guy was practically caught off guard as you took the chance to pick pocket him.

“You drive a hard bargain young lady,” he commented as you felt some double dollars in his pocket.

“Hey! Get a move on officer!” one of the men yelled as you retracted your hand.

“Maybe next time, but since you’re interested I might have seen him outside the city limit in the desert not too long ago. Saw that hairstyle and can’t mistake it,” you answered with a small smirk.

“Boss! We got a lead!” the guy said as he went back to the group and left.

You turned around to see the bartender looking at you with wide eyes.

“I honestly don’t know, I just made it up on the fly,” you told her as you finished your beer. You then flashed her some money that you stole from the officer.

“Courtesy of the loud mouth himself. Hopefully this helps with the water issue,” you mentioned as you took your leave.

Once you stepped out from the bar, you bumped into someone as you landed on the ground from the impact.

“Hey are you okay? I didn’t see you there!” you heard a panicked voice. You were annoyed with how your day was going, first a cop and now you got knocked to the ground without seeing it coming? You looked to see it was the wanted man himself. You couldn’t mistake that face anywhere , except you noticed how vibrant his blue eyes were even with his orange spectacles. He was tall as he loomed over you with his figure and his bright red jacket. You knew he was good looking, but the wanted poster didn’t do him justice when you were looking at him in person. He was way too beautiful to be a criminal.

He extended his prosthetic hand to you for grab as you looked at him. You grabbed his hand and felt how warm it was as he lifted you up.

“Are you hurt? Any bruises? Scratches?” he asked looking you up and down.  You dusted yourself off and checked your arms.

“No I’m okay, but watch where you’re going next time. You might bump into the wrong person,” you warned still keeping your guard up.

“Ahaha sorry about that. I was in a bit of hurry. But I’m glad you’re okay! The name is Vash,” he introduced himself with a smile. This guy was way too kind, and he seemed genuine when asking you those questions. Was he really that bad of a criminal? You were a bit hesitant to answer but you trusted your gut.

“The name is y/n, but it’s best you keep that information to yourself,” you replied. He gave you a confused look with his eye furrowing.

“I’ve got my reasons, but just a heads up. Some cops came by earlier here looking for you. I told them you went outside the city limits so best to stay away from that direction and hang low,” you told him as you put your hands in your pocket as you walked past him.

“Wait really? Thanks a bunch! I appreciate it y/n! I owe you!” he replied walking up to you with his face close to yours. You were startled by him and took a few steps back as your heart started racing.

“Oh, sorry about that! Force of habit,” he apologized as he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. What an interesting guy.

“It’s nothing, but if you really want to treat me, do it the next time we meet,” you said half jokingly as you started walking away from him.

“Oh why not now?” he asked.

“I have some business I need to take care of outside of here. Can’t be late if I stay here any longer,” you mentioned as you looked back at him.

“Okay, well next I see you, dinner is on me!” he yelled while waving. You couldn’t help but chuckle at him.

“What makes you think we’ll meet again?” you ask.

“It’s a gut feeling!” he answered with a warm smile. You waved back and made your way to the next town over. There was no way he was worth that much or causes that much trouble with how much of goofball he was from that interaction you had. As you walked, you kept thinking about him and wondering if you would ever meet again.

~*~

You made it to the next city and found a few of the homes you targeted by nightfall with the help of a Thomas. You slipped into two homes and stole the necessities for your family, for some people at Jeneora, and a little for yourself. You were about to raid a third house until you heard the cops were nearby. You high tailed it out of the city making sure you weren’t being followed. You rode your Thomas to the desert and hid near one of the dunes despite the cold. You couldn’t risk staying in the city with how much stuff you took and with how you stood out from the crowd in your outerwear. You laid low and took a few detours just to be sure you were in the clear and that no one was tracking you. 

Eventually you were able to see the outskirts of Jeneora as dawn broke. Finally some civilization and a place to rest instead of the endless sand. You placed your Thomas at a resting station, and made your way into the inner heart of the town.

“Hey! Have you seen this lady? She was in this city last time we saw her,” you heard someone call out. You looked to see the same group of officers interrogating the townspeople.

“She stole from the law and she’s wanted alive. If you know anything there’s a nice reward waiting for you,” the officer continued as the townsfolk studied the paper.

You cursed internally as you quietly jogged to some of the homes. You hoped to stay hidden long enough for them to leave. You could tell that they were searching and questioning everybody in the town. You kept running until you made eye contact with one of the city men. You were so screwed, you couldn’t take any chances as you ran as fast as possible. This was not how you wanted to go down as you looked for other hiding spots. Your mind was racing, how could you have been this sloppy with your work? As you ran, you felt someone grab your hand as you panicked.

“No! Let me-” before you could finish you were pulled inside a building and found your mouth being covered. You looked to see Vash was covering your mouth and gestured you to keep quiet as he peaked outside. You were so confused, you didn’t think this was how you meet with him again. You looked inside to see you were in the bar and found the bartender stepping outside not looking at both of you. Your heart was practically beating against your chest as you felt Vash pull you to his side while he kept your mouth covered. You squirmed, but Vash kept you in his hold as you were panicking internally. You didn’t know what was going to happen to you as you felt so helpless.

“Officer! I saw her ride a Thomas that way. You better hurry before you lose her again,” the bartender said as you heard the officers run away from the bar. Then, it was silent until you heard footsteps walk back into the bar. It was the lady as she smiled at you both.

“Coast is clear, we sent a pack of Thomas the other direction so they should be following that for awhile,” she told you as Vash let go of you with a sigh of relief. Your eyes widened as you slid down to the floor. Your breath was ragged, your mind was spinning, and your legs felt numb from the adrenaline. What in the world just happened? You thought

“Hey! Are you okay? Follow my breathing,” Vash asked as he grabbed both of your shoulders. He then started breathing slowly as you followed him with his inhales and exhales.

“Why did you help me? I'm a wanted criminal,” you finally spoke looking at him.

“You helped me remember? And you helped Rosa last time you were here,” Vash pointed as she came up to you.

“Anyone that’s a friend of Vash is a friend of mine that I can trust. Plus, that money helped with the water. We heard the commotion earlier, and Vash and I wanted to repay the favor,” she explained with a soft smile.

You looked at Vash as he was smiling at you.

“Can you stand?” he asked as you shook your head.

“I’m a little out of breath from running and everything else,” you explained as he grabbed your waist while you held onto his shoulder for support. He then led you to a table with a couple of seats for you to sit in. He gently sat you down as you thanked him.

“Well aren’t you both lifesavers, I really thought it was the end for me. I guess we’re even now,” you explained with a sigh of relief.

“Not exactly, I still gotta treat you to dinner, remember?” Vash mentioned.

“You still remember that? I was kinda joking about the whole owing me,” You asked and looked at him a bit taken a back. 

“Well I meant what I said. I would treat you the next time I see you. I saw you earlier, and here we are,” Vash explained as he flashed you that toothy smile of his.

You stifled a chuckle as you looked away slightly.

“Okay then, a deal is a deal. Besides how can I turn down that offer when you saved me in a pinch,” you said and scooted closer to him.

“Great, because I’d like to know more about the person who helped me out earlier,” Vash said as he got comfortable to look at you.

“Good because I’d like to know more about the real Vash, not what the cops or rumors say about you,” you replied feeling safe around him

You didn’t think helping the most wanted man would lead to this, but now you were especially grateful to have bumped into him and earn a tasty meal out of it. You could afford to take a little detour before returning home anyway if it meant spending time with someone cute right?

[thesolemnhour]

Ten songs, ten people

Thank you so much for the tag @cassynite!! @amatres tagged me a little while ago for a three song meme, so I'm counting that as a tag too lol!

Agria:

Coolest fucking bitch in town by Haley Blais

I want my therapist to think I'm cool I call you from the office phone to ask you to come drive me home Okay I'm just a liar I never went [...] But if you see me out Know I'm the coolest fucking bitch in town You want to drink a drink that's watered down It'll just take you longer

2. INDUSTRY BABY by Lil Nas X

I told you long ago, on the road I got what they waitin' for

3. Emily I'm Sorry by boygenius

Emily, I'm sorry I just Make it up as I go along And I can feel myself becoming Someone only you could want

4. Nothing New by Taylor Swift

Lord, what will become of me Once I've lost my novelty? [...] How can a person know everythin' at eighteen But nothin' at twenty-two? And will you still want me When I'm nothing new?

5. Seventeen Going Under by Sam Fender

I was far too scared to hit him But I would hit him in a heartbeat now That's the thing with anger It begs to stick around

6. Free by Florence and the Machine

But there's nothing else that I know how to do But to open up my arms and give it all to you

7. Soft Targets by The Mountain Goats

Something is wrong with my brain And the ghost of our future's awake in the attic He moans and he wails as he rattles his chain We embrace on the floor in the kitchen Emissaries from neighboring lands When I hunt down the vampire that did this to us I will rip out his heart with my hands

8. A Better Son/Daughter by Rilo Kiley

And sometimes when you're on, you're really fucking on And your friends they sing along and they love you But the lows are so extreme, that the good seems fucking cheap And it teases you for weeks in its absence

9. brutal by Olivia Rodrigo

And they'd all be so disappointed 'Cause who am I, if not exploited?

10. Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers

No longer a danger to herself or others She made up her mind and laced up her shoes Yelled down the hall but nobody answered So she walked outside without an excuse She could do anything she wants to She could do whatever she wants to do She could go home, but she's not going to

No pressure tagging: @offsidekineticist @morelikewrathofthebighteous @minthy-fresh @starlightcleric and @tenmillionbees if it looks fun!!

Edit: adding @arrow90-quiver and @galfrey bc this was pretty fun everyone should enjoy!!

[mcl38]

new lando article just dropped! its fun that hes not following a strict schedule, writing (or dictating - jury’s still out) this column before the singapore gp means this is less of a race report and more of a fun update of his life. it also means that he spends a decent portion of it talking about pissing his pants (hypothetical, never happened). make of that what you will. anyways as always i am reminding you not to subscribe to the telegraph or even give them ad money by visiting their website, because i will be posting every single article in full as soon as it drops. u can find them all under the hashtag ‘lando’s columns’. this one (as always) will be under the cut, enjoy the read!

[photo of lando looking at some telemetry, jose and will blurry on either side of him. he’s wearing the black singapore fireproofs] 

Imagine a street circuit like Monaco where one little mistake can put you in the wall. Now add speed. Marina Bay may not be the fastest street circuit in the world. But it’s bumpy. And hot – 30C plus and over 90 per cent humidity, meaning a tropical downpour is never far from turning the track into an ice rink.

Yep, for overall toll on the body and all-round intensity, I would say Singapore is right up there as the toughest race on the calendar. It’s not as hard on your neck or your core as, say, Miami. But it’s just so energy-sapping. So intense under those lights.

I have actually only ever raced here once, in my rookie season back in 2019. So I’m by no means an expert. But I well remember just how draining it was. Literally. You have to drink so much before the race that you begin it 2 per cent heavier than normal. Then you sweat so much during the race you not only lose that 2 per cent but at least another 2 per cent on top of that.

It’s brutal. Taking on so much fluid, and constantly topping up the levels, leads me to a question we’re sometimes asked as F1 drivers: do we ever pee in our race suits?

I can honestly tell you I never have. I love my race crew too much to do that to them! I wouldn’t be surprised if it has happened in the past, though. 

[photo of the special livery MCL36 looking soooo sexy in pink guys i love this car so much u dont get it]

Sometimes, particularly in a race which involves a safety car, we can be out there for well over two hours. I was absolutely desperate for a wee at the end of the last race at Monza for instance. But I haven’t yet been so desperate that I’ve just gone in my race suit.

Most of the time, you are so focused on the race itself you don’t actually notice that you need to go. It’s only when you finish, or like I say, when a safety car comes out, that you sometimes realise how desperate you are.

To be honest, in Singapore pretty much all of the fluid you take on is secreted out through sweat. It is so hot inside your suit and helmet that one driver said he used to put a woman's sanitary towel inside his helmet to try to soak up the sweat while he was racing, so that it wouldn’t drip into his eyes.

I have never gone that far, but I do prepare a little differently for the race at Marina Bay. I train on an indoor bike wearing extra layers of clothes: a hoodie, a jacket, a hat. It’s horrible but it makes a big difference when you come here. I even have a couple of electric heaters which I put in the room with me while I’m cycling to try to get me really cooking.

The other thing I’m going to do this weekend, and which I don’t do anywhere else, is drive with a drinks bottle. 

Generally I don’t tend to drink during a race. It’s just not something I’ve ever felt the need to do. I think Barcelona in May this year, when I had tonsillitis and needed to keep drinking on every lap to stop myself from going downhill, was the only other occasion I’ve needed a drinks bottle. But as I say, taking on fluids in Singapore is just a non-negotiable so I have asked my mechanics to put one in the car for me. 

I’m looking forward to the weekend though. I’m feeling good and ready to go. I arrived out here quite early this week and I feel as if I’ve acclimatised pretty well. I’m a night-owl anyway so staying on European time is not a problem for me. It’s what I would choose to do. I’ve also had a lot of fun this week with my new toy: a digital camera which I bought out here on the recommendation of my photographer (who is now very jealous of it).

[photo of beloved with his face covered by a digital camera. this camera has been the bane of my existence and also a source of constant entertainment, much like this column. much like lando himself]

I’ve had a lot of fun exploring Singapore and experimenting with what it can do. I’m not very good with it yet, but I’m really enjoying it.

I just love documenting my life to be honest. I’d have someone with me documenting it all if I could stand for that person to be following me around all the time. Which I cannot. Hence why I’ve got myself a camera I suppose! I just like to look back and record cool things. My summer golf trip for instance. It would have been really cool to have a digital record of that. I like to throw myself into new things generally. 

You might notice that I’m wearing a slightly different helmet this weekend. It’s actually one inspired by Master Chief’s helmet from the Halo games to celebrate my esports team announcing we’re joining the Halo Championship Series [HSC] partner programme.  Quadrant, my team, is something I’m very excited about. So far Halo is our only esports title, but we have big plans to grow the Quadrant brand and expand into other titles. Watch this space! 

For the next few weeks, all my focus is on Formula One. I finished P7 here in 2019. I’d love to go better this weekend. It will not be easy at the toughest race in the world. But we’ll give it everything. Now, where’s my drinks bottle?

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#196

“Put everything in. Good boy. Don’t look back. Get over here and kneel in front of me. Yeah I know it’s cold and you are naked. But I’m warm and that’s all that matters. But, if you want to warm up, take my cock out and stick it in your mouth. No, don’t suck. Drink. I was going to save my load of piss for your ass, but this will also do. Just swallow as fast as it comes. Tastes nasty huh? You’ll get used to it. You’ll crave it. If not, well, then it sucks to be you. By you putting the rest of your belongings in that dumpster, you really are giving up everything to become my property to do with as I see....

“No more connection to your family that kicked you out. No more of your daddy treating you like the shit you are. No more of your cousin raping and breeding your ass. Now I get the privilege of doing all that. You knew that treatment was a small part what I offered when you answered my ad looking for property.

“Becoming my toilet was always a part of that. Today we start with your urinal training. Full toilet training will come later, and don’t ever think that it won’t. Good boy, other that some dribble on the outside of your mouth. Normally that would be cause for immediate punishment, but hey it’s your 18th birthday today and you are also pledging your existence to me, so I’ll cut you some slack. When I picked you up at our meeting place just after midnight last night, you accepted that I would be controlling every aspect of your life. By putting everything you left home with in that dumpster just now, there’s no turning around.

“Now it’s the morning, and I can inspect you properly. In the morning sun, I can see you did a good job shaving. Other than your eyebrows, no other hair on your body. You seem to take to the role of property quite naturally. The collar I have on you seems to fit right. After you fully earn my trust, we’ll swap out the shock collar for a regular one. One thing about being naked out in this cool morning weather, is that you get severe shrinkage. Your pecker was small to begin with. But look at it now, it’s non-existent. Stand up. This is your chastity cage. I told you last night to jerk off before midnight, as it will be your last for a long while. This is to ensure that you don’t. With your pecker shrunk, it goes on real easy. Damn, this lock is bigger that the pecker it locks up. Your balls remain exposed for further use and abuse. From this point on, you are never stand to piss like a real man. You will always squat down, or if you do need a toilet, you will sit. And for god sake, don’t ever sit on the toilet seat, the cold porcelain is good enough for you.

“Now turn around and bend over. Last night’s fuck was a struggle for you. I know my cock is quite thick. This fuck is going to be even more brutal; it needs to be. Hands on the asphalt and cunt hole up high. One glob of spit is all the lube you will get. Feel how heavy my cock is. It’s going right to the root… now. Holy shit you are tight. That’s it scream mother fucker. Keep screaming, it’s only making me harder. Too bad you don’t have your cherry. I would have smashed that fucker right. You will eventually be able to take this daily.

“And right on time, look up, we have a semi coming in. Don’t you fucking move. They are going to see you naked bent over on all fours; they need to hear you screaming. And my cock is still going to split you in two as they drive up. Don’t worry bitch boy, these are two of my friends. Focus your attention on my cock and be the hole you are. Me fucking you in front of others is what I want; it’s usually what really gets me off.

“Wait. That felt good. Do that again, clamp down on my cock just like what you did. So you like to be used in front of others? A simple ‘Yes SIR’ will do…. I don’t know what your cousin did to train you right, but he did it right. Hey they are getting out and making their way over here, so stop the screaming….

“Dave, Chris, what’s going on?… I’m just enjoying my new pussy. I claimed her last night at midnight. She just now threw out her shit and took my collar…. No, not a real pussy, she’s a fag. She’s been contacting me for a few months begging me to take her and own her when her dad kicked her out on her 18th birthday. This is her birthday fuck. I was about to nut when you guys pulled in. You two interested in using her?… I figured you would. Times haven’t changed. Dave shove your cock into her mouth. Fuck yeah. Make her take it all. I’m getting close. Fuck yeah. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh yes. Fuck.

“Whew!… Pussy, your cunt is gold! I need some rest. These men are going to be using you for a bit. They are going to be rough on you. That’s what I want. This is your life now. I hope you have the stamina…. Guys, she’s all yours. I plan on heading out in about three hours. When you are done make sure she finds her way back to my cab…. Sure you can abuse her in your cab. Yeah it’s cold. I have no idea how she stands the cold out here. Hey pussy, make me proud.”

[keltonwrites]

Where no one knows your name

How many times is a person meant to make new friends? When I moved into an apartment in DC with an absolutely iconic girl from Craigslist, I wrote in my journal, “you never know when you’ll meet your next bridesmaid.” Charmingly juvenile, as I was 24 years old. Ironic, as I never had any bridesmaids. And embarrassing, knowing I wrote something that’s surely been embroidered on a bachelorette party t-shirt by now. My point was: you can meet people you fall in love with anywhere, anytime, assuming your heart (and calendar) are open. Now my heart and calendar are open and I am one of Elizabeth Bennet’s sad sisters, cloying and desperate for attention while everyone at the ball ignores me. Meeting people here is unnerving and hapless and eye-clawingly vulnerable. My first new friend told me she was moving away in a few months. Do you invest deeply in hopes of another faraway friendship? Do you just go back to waving as you pass on the street? I like this girl! What an embarrassing thing to have to say to someone! Do you just invite people to every and anything like a lunatic? I can’t even remember to call the people I am forever-and-ever in cahoots with. I’m also deeply bound by what I’ll call the Movie Trap: say it’s 3pm during not-a-pandemic, and you get the urge to see a movie. You look at the showings, and there’s one you really want to see at 7:15. You think to yourself, “I should make an effort,” and you text a friend. “Hey, you wanna go see This Cool Movie at 7:15 tonight?” No one ever says yes. Don’t give me an example of when someone has, because it’s always one of these answers:

“Oooh, I’m actually seeing it with Kate tomorrow - wanna come?”

“Can we go to the 9pm showing? Stuck at work.”

“Yeah but let’s see Movie You’ll Fucking Hate instead.”

Now maybe I’m just lighting flares guiding you to the worst parts of my personality, but this drives me nuts. No, Liz, I don’t want to go tomorrow. I want to go tonight. At 7:15. So I can be in bed by 10. And you’d have to drag my dead body and prop open my eyes to get me to see something like Marriage Story in theaters. The Movie Trap is a big reason I usually hang out by myself, or I make plans weeks in advance. (Don't I sound like a blast.) Just the idea of being like, “I like you! Wanna hang out in October?” makes me want to collapse into a puddle of sad adulthood. Which is why on Friday at 4:30pm, when a girl I’d met a week prior asked if I wanted to grab a drink, I just said yes. I put on a pretty dress, did my makeup, put stuff in a purse, and drove the 25 minutes to town. It was really fun! And how novel to have new contacts in my phone like “Maggie blue house” and “Jess concert friend” — a throwback to the days of “Greg guy on L train” and “Devon ad party.” The very concept of not knowing someone’s last name or even needing it, and a year from now updating their contact info and smiling at your origin story. But for the most part, no one is in our phones. In terms of phone numbers collected, here is the list:

Two friends we knew prior who thank god you guys exist.

New friend who is moving away.

New friend who is game to drink tequila and ride mountain bikes.

Neighbor-not-yet-friend who I really fucking like and am not sure how to cross hang-out threshold with.

​Not to say there aren’t any other prospects or people I’m platonically gaga over, but I don’t have their phone numbers. There are honestly a lot of people like this because when you live in a small town (and you’re from the Midwest) you say “oop, sorry” to every person/object you bump into, and you say “hi :)” to every person you see. These are the rules. If I drive by you and don’t wave, it’s because I was so deep in a daydream I probably shouldn’t have been driving in the first place. This isn’t acceptable, because in our urgency to tattoo our vaccination status on our foreheads so we can make friends, it turns out just driving by someone can be a viable strategy. A few days ago, a man was driving by our kitchen window and then our driveway, and then he reversed back up to the kitchen window and started waving. Ben went outside — it was that kind of wave. The man had seen from his car a smokejumper emblem on the back of a truck in our driveway. “Hey, are you a smokejumper?” We aren’t. But my dad was, and he was in town visiting, accompanied by the emblem on the back of his truck. The guy said we should drink sometime. Numbers were not exchanged. We’ll call that a node, because it’s not quite a connection. And it’s mainly nodes, waiting to be connected, to have relevance. But first, no matter who you’re trying to befriend, you have to answer everyone else’s Do I Care Quiz. The quiz is employed by 93% of locals to determine how they feel about you existing within their personal 50-mile radius. The first question is non negotiable:

1) Are you visiting?

Variations on this question include “how long are you in town?” or “what brings y’all to town?” or my least favorite and most insulting, “did you just finish Jeeping?” I know I have blonde hair and say y’all, but how dare you. (Also, to be clear, you can own a Jeep, customize your Jeep, mod out your Jeep, and love your Jeep, but you’re not Jeeping until you drive too fast through a tiny town so you can hurl your Jeep over a mountain pass without ever getting out of it.) So the answer to “are you visiting” is “no, I live here.” Which brings us to the next question, my favorite for how loaded the gun, kneeling in the grass, scope on, target locked it is.

2) Are you part-time or full-time?

The first time I answered this question, I didn’t realize it was essentially like asking how someone voted in the 2020 election. The judgment was cocked and ready and the palpable relief/joy/or at the very least, tolerance, exuded by answering “full-time” was like when the sun comes out from behind the clouds on a 40 degree day. I was fine, but wow that does feel better. The third question though does not have a standard hoped-for answer. This is where nodes turn to connections turn to phone numbers.

3) What brings you here?

It seems like the best possible answer would be saying you work in town, and you’re going to begin construction on displaced-worker housing to ensure the people who run this town can actually live in it. We’d have everyone’s phone number. Saying you’re a writer who works remotely and bought a house from a legendary and beloved local who could no longer afford it is really something you keep to yourself. But in the interest of making friends, I just word vomit my entire history. We might as well find out at the onset if I make your eyes roll back into your skull. Not at all threatening that all it takes is a single social signal misinterpreted to be the absolute death knell of my ability to make friends in a town of some 1400 adults. In fact, I’ll share one such interaction. I was hiking with Cooper, about 5 miles by foot away from my house. I was on a trail, crossing a sloped meadow, and a group was traversing up the hillside to the trail. I said hi, where y’all coming from. One girl answered and we talked about the trail. She eyed me up and down. “Did you just move here?” “I did!” “I served your family last week,” she said. “Oh,” that phrasing. “Must have been my in-laws.” “Heard you bought Jack’s house. Such a bummer when locals like that are forced out.” “We didn’t even know about his house,” I said. “We were looking at another house and he asked his realtor if he could get us to come see his house. We just loved it, and him!” She had no emotional reaction to this. “You moved from California?” she asked. (Dangerous question.) “Yeah, got these sea level lungs, haha,” attempting to disarm with humor was a failure, “but couldn’t be happier to be out of California.” “It’s not like this all year. Winter’s really hard here, you’re in for a rude awakening.” “Well California’s the last place I lived, but I’m not from there. I’ve lived in brutal winters. At least Colorado gets sun!” I laugh with cloaked loathing. “It’s different when you live at altitude,” she said, like no human aside from her had ever been literally anywhere. “Are you trying to go around?” She indicated the path behind her. “No, y’all go ahead, just gonna wait to give you your space. I’m sure you’re faster than me.” “K, good luck making it to the lake." Maybe she was thirsty. Maybe she was hungover. Maybe she just has vicious delivery, but it felt like every blade of grass was leaning against the wind to listen. She was with four other people and not one of them said a word. I left that interaction not wanting to see another human ever again. But that interaction, and her intimate knowledge of exactly which house I lived in, made me want to decorate like we lived in a gingerbread house, all candy canes and plum drops, screaming to any passerby that we’re friendly. One of the mayor’s first questions to me was “what are you going to do to the house?” There are rules here about what your house can look like, and I kept emphasizing we bought the house because we loved it, not because we wanted to change everything about it. And now, instead of wanting to decorate the interior, I want to put up shades so we don’t contribute to light pollution, I want to hang a sign by the water spigot saying “grab some if you need” for hikers and mountain bikers, I want to paint a sign for the wild mint by our door that says, “I mint to tell you to take some,” because our neighbors were openly panicked they wouldn’t be able to just grab mint from the cabin’s garden anymore. Without question, COVID makes things harder. Dinner parties feel like dares. Dropping cookies off at someone’s house feels invasive. Grabbing a drink feels like the ultimate sign of trust. But at least we have nodes who can connect who can think to invite us and who can see that despite having lived in California, we’re not all that bad. In the meantime, I’ll be painting signs about water and mint, hoping to garner the benefit of the doubt from the so beautifully, earnestly, and waiting-to-see-if-you’re-worth-it doubtful.

Subscribe to the newsletter at tinyletter.com/keltonwrites — high altitude relocation and renovation in a tiny mountain town.

[aficwhore]

Truth Is

Chapter 1: A Night Many Months Ago

Frankie "Catfish" Morales x F!reader

Summary: When reuniting for the mission in Colombia, Frankie and the reader (nicknamed "Chipmunk"), bicker due to their rocky past. After some angry exchanges, a few truths come out, changing both of their perspectives. Will the relationship be mended? Or once this is over, will they go back to the way things were before?

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: explicit language, blood, violence, guns/weapons, lots of angst and emotions, infidelity, talk of sex and sexual encounters, drinking, mentions of drugs, talk of death, and talk of mental health(PTSD, depression).

A/N: This was inspired by the song "Truth Is" by Sabrina Claudio. I want to make this a series (my first series ever), but it's still being decided, so please let me know if you want this to be continued! And I am still taking requests and prompts! Thanks Lovelies <3

"Cmon, please Chip, we can't do this without you." Santiago begged, his hands clasped together in front of him to show his desperation as he stood before me in my small apartment kitchen. I sighed, glancing around our surroundings. He had come to ask about joining one last escapade, one last job and we'd all be set for the rest of our lives.

Finally breaking the silence and meeting his weary gaze, "Who all have you rounded up? If Will or Benny said no, there's no way I'm doing it without them." I took another deep breath, turning to continue the dishes I had been doing when Pope showed up.

Santi's face began to light up, his stance growing slightly as he grinned, "Great! They both wanted in, so did Tom." Seeming relieved he leaned against the counter next to the sink and crossed his arms.

"And F-Fish?" I hesitated, pausing the scrubbing on the porcelain dish in my hand. It felt like the air in my lungs no longer existed. My heart began to pound it's way up my throat and into my ears.

His head dipped down, feeling the concern laced in my voice. Clearing his voice, he quietly explained "Haven't asked him yet, he was last on my list."

I silently placed the last dish onto the rack near the sink and wiped my wet hands on my jeans, looking down and watching the wet marks gradually making themselves known. No longer forcing myself to make eye contact, I nodded at the ground.

"Look, querida, if you two just talked I'm sure it would work out." He pushed himself off the counter and stepped towards me, reaching a hand out and gently rubbing my shoulder to console me. "But don't let this change your mind, we really do need you."

"When are you going to mention it to him?" I breathed out, wanting to keep any and all emotions at bay. His hand on my arm squeezed, as if he was trying to give me some courage.

"Tonight, at Benny's fight, I thought his spirits would be up enough to persuade him." He chuckled lightly, knowing his plan was to take a little bit of advantage of Frankie's mood.

I laughed softly, "Definitely sounds like a Santi move if you ask me."

He smirked and shook his head "I know, shame on me." As he dropped his hand back to his side he quirked, "You should come tonight, we can go out for drinks after the fight, relax a little before we leave tomorrow."

It took me a second to register what he said, but when I did I burst out "wait what?! Tomorrow? Santi, why didn't you tell me that? You forgot the biggest detail!"

He cowered down slightly, rubbing the back of his neck "Because I knew you'd yell at me, it was worth a shot putting off the anger a little longer." He smiled coyly.

Rolling my eyes I couldn't help but forgive his dumb smile. "Well it starts soon, why don't I get my things real quick and we can head to the arena together?"

His smile widened, "Of course!" I grabbed my purse and keys, making sure to turn off the lights and lock the door behind me. As we made our way down the elevator and out to his car, Santi told me a few details about the missions and the plan. But once we got into his rinky dink ford truck, I turned to him.

"About Frankie, I'm sure one of the boys told you, but just in case; his license was revoked." Santi's face contorted with confusion.

"What? How? Did he crash or hurt somebody?" He questioned quickly.

After taking a breath of courage I spoke, "No Pope. He-He was caught with coke."

Santi stayed quiet, turning the engine on. "I don't get it" A sad expression plastered on his face.

With a furrow in my brow I spoke again, "What don't you get? He was doing drugs, hardcore ones at that". I began to ramble more, "For what reason, I'm not sure, maybe the PTSD and depression. Maybe he felt he had no one to go to-"

"Stop. I know." He cut me off while finally shifting the gear into drive and moving up forward. "You can't blame anyone for this. All we can do is move on and help him. He's our friend, okay? But I know he's still the same Fish, just a little turned around."

"I know, okay. I can't help it. From what the boys told me, he seems to be a lot better." I added, stirring in my seat. "Anyways, it's been awhile since all of us have been back together. It's exciting."

Santi snickered, "But didn't you all hang out while I've been out of the U.S.?"

Seeing that we're close to the arena's parking garage I explained, "I mean, yea, but only me, Ironhead, Benny and Fish. I haven't talked to Redfly in months, we all had a fallout with him. Especially me."

"Tom didn't say anything when I talked to him, Do you wanna fill me in?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Huffing, I turn to face him, telling him the events of that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The four of us, the Millers, Frankie and I sat on my couch, watching TV and talking, when we hear a bang at the door. I got up to open it and find Tom slumped on the doorway. He looked rough and smelled like he had been drinking the past several days. "Woah, Tom, you're really drunk, and you drove here?"

He snapped, beginning to yell, "Who are you to judge me? Huh? My wife left me, this is how I cope." He angrily pushed his way past me and tumbled into the living room. He was greeted with the boys standing around him with concerned faces.

"What the hell were you thinking? You know how dangerous that is? You know you could've called and we would've been there for you!" I raised my voice back, causing Tom to swing around to face me.

He laughed darkly, "Oh shut up 'Miss Perfect,' just like you did for Fish? When he was nose deep in coke? Or are you too self obsessed? Or do you just have favorites!"

"Hey man, that's not cool." Will interrupted and tried to get a handle on Tom. Frankie lowered his head in embarrassment. Will reached forward and placed a hand on his back, but things escalated more.

"Oh okay, yea protect the whore, we all know she's there for you guys more than just talking. I wouldn't doubt it if you all fucked her too. But me? Nah, you leave me out of everything." Tom howled, yanking away from Will and slurring his words and no longer making sense.

Anger becoming more prominent, I spoke, "Seriously?! Whore?! How is it my fault that you push us away and don't let us help? We include you in everything, but you have your head so far stuck up your ass you never show up!" I've come face to face with him, my hot breath and voice blowing into his face above me. "And another thing, I'm not a whore, you asshole, I'm with Frankie!"

He leaned closer to me, his breath reeking of alcohol, "Just him? Does he know where you're at everyday Monday and Wednesday at 1?! I doubt it!"

Frankie speaks up, "What? What is he talking about?" A devilish smirk makes its way to Tom's face.

"Nothing, I swear it's nothing." I try to explain, making eye contact with my partially hurt lover.

"Tell him, tell him you've been seeing a 'Dr. Philips.' Go on, do it." He rubs it in.

Looking behind Tom, I saw Frankie looking like his world had just shattered. "You've been seeing someone?!"

Panicking, I speak, "Yes, but it's not what you think, I promise!"

"Then what is it?" Tom adds, stumbling back a foot and crossing his arms contently at the damage he just caused.

Benny spoke up, knowing the truth about who I was "seeing." "You need to leave man, you have no right to say shit like that. You don't know the real situation"

Tom burst, yelling "I want her to admit it! I want her to admit that she isn't the perfect bitch she makes herself out to be!"

"Fuck you! Get the hell out of my house!" I scream, tears slightly welling in my eyes. "Frankie-" I turn to him, but to find him grabbing his things. "Baby please, let me explain."

"Explain what? You've been cheating on me?" his voice is loud, and cracks slightly.

A tear breaks its way down my cheek, "I haven't, Frankie, please believe me." I grab his hand, trying to stall his movements, but he pulls away.

"You just admitted it!" He frowns and yanks his hand away and heads for the door.

"That's right Fishie boy! Leave her, she's no good anyway!" Tom squawks as Benny grabs a hold of him and shoves him to the door, Will right behind to help.

"You bastard!" I lunged forward and swung my hand, landing right on the side of his face with a loud crack. Frankie spun around, startled at my actions.

The action only fueled Tom's anger because he ripped away from Benny's grip and grabbed me. I didn't back down and started to shove him and swing my arms, hitting him in the face and chest as he fought back.

But just as quickly as the fight started, it ended. Frankie tore me off of Tom, pinning me to his chest and stopping my brutal hits. Will and Benny wrested Tom into submission and dragged him out of the front door as he yelled slurs at me, and dumped him outside with a battered face.

While the brothers were dealing with a drunk Redfly, Frankie scolded and verbally fought with me.

"Just tell me! Who is Dr. Philips!" He questioned, slightly shaking me by the shoulders.

With many emotions running through my head, I couldn't process what was going on. "I-I can't, Frankie, I can't even admit it to myself." Tears streaming down my face I brought my hands up to the sides of his face. "But you have to believe me, por favor (please)."

Francisco looked like he was fighting an emotional battle in his mind. He finally spoke, "Either you tell me, or I leave, I can't do this, not if you keep things from me."

Feeling my heart break, I whispered "Please, mi amor (my love), don't make me. I'm not strong enough." My eyes now running like an open faucet and my hands tightly pressed to his cheeks.

He blinks away tears, reaching his hands up to grab mine and pull them away from his face, "Then I have to go." He drops my hands and turns to leave.

"Por favor no me dejes! (Please don't leave me)" I call after him, watching as he heads out of the door and into the night, leaving me alone. I drop to the floor, tears blurring my vision and all that can be heard are my sobs.

After what feels like hours, Will and Benny return, picking me up off the floor and taking me to my bed. They lay me down, attempting to help my emotional breakdown. They pick up whatever mess that was left after the event of that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And after that night, Tom was no longer invited anywhere with us. Frankie distanced himself and refused to talk to me. But Will and Benny did their best to be there for me in any way they could. They did the same for Frankie. But as for Tom, they casted him out, because he changed, badly." I finished covering the story of that night, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. "And the Dr. Philips I was seeing, was my therapist. I didn't want anyone to know I wasn't okay mentally. I was embarrassed and part of me didn't want to admit I needed help. The lives we chose aren't easy."

Santi parked, and seemed shocked, "I'm sorry love, I knew you split with Fish, but didn't know any details or about Tom." He reached over and patted my thigh sympathetically. "I really am sorry that you went through all of that because Tom was an asshole. You really don't have to do this-"

"No I want to, I'm in a better place, so is everyone else." I smiled shyly, wanting to lift the spirits. "So what do you say? Let's go wrangle up our boys and get rich?"

Pope smiled brightly, "Hell yes!" We both got out of the car, and headed to the back of the arena and knocked, hoping Will was there to open it like he told Santi he would. Much to our luck, the door swung open to reveal a tall, smiling, blonde Miller brother.

"Brother!" Santi chuckled as he pulled the eldest Miller into a hug, clapping each other on the back. They pulled away as Pope headed inside to find the others.

"Hey pretty girl, long time no see." Will joked, hugging me tightly.

I scoffed, "Will, you were just at my house last night." We both laughed and he led me into a rank smelling locker room, which I assumed was for Benny to get ready. As we rounded the corner, I saw Benny and Tom chatting on one of the benches between the lockers.

"Chipmunk!" Benny roared as he ran over, picked me up and spun me around. "I missed you! I'm so glad you could make it!" He sat me back down and stepped back to sit on the bench again.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss you getting your ass beat for the world!" I giggled as I winked at him, showing the younger of us a bit of love.

He shook his head with a grin. As my eyes left him, they met with the eyes of Tom. He seemed to have a look of regret, trying to give me a sad smile.

I walked over to him, reaching my hand in a fist forward, lightly tapping his shoulder, "Hey fly, how you been?"

A small wave of relief washed over him as he responded "I'm good Chip, how are you? And look I'm really sorry, I wasn't in a good place and I regret-"

"Its okay Tom, really, it is. I'm just glad you're better. It's water under the bridge." I sit next to him and pat his back, showing that all, or at least most, is forgiven.

He nods slowly, "Thank you, it means a lot that you're here."

"Oh cmon you have to admit it, you couldn't do it without me, the best there is." I pretend to act over confident and burst into laughter. And Tom joins in.

As Tom and I begin to catch up, talking about what we've missed these past several months, I overhear a conversation.

"Hermano (brother)! How are you?" Santi greets Frankie, I assume, he was the last of us, who wasn't already here. When I realize that it is him, my heart begins to race. My skin starts to burn and get hot, my palms becoming sweaty.

"Pope! Benny! Ironhead! What is this, a reunion?" Frankie's voice echoes as they come closer. As the three round the corner, "All we need is Redfly and Chip-" Frankie stops as we become revealed to him. Tom gets up immediately and struts over to give Fish a hug. Frankie's face lights up with glee and hugs him back. When they step away from each other, I wearily stand up and all he does is give an awkward smile and nods in my direction.

Benny attempts to whisper to Santi, "Ouch, that's cold." And Santi jabs him in the stomach with his elbow, causing him to double over and make a "hmf" sound.

Being slightly hurt, I break the uneasy tension by opening an invitation, "Alright well I'm gonna go get a beer and find us some good seats, it's close to showtime!" Faking a smile I continue, "Who's coming?"

"Me, I can't be in here with this doofus anymore." Will chuckle as he ruffles Ben's hair and follows right behind me.

When we make it to the concession stand and order beers, Will taps my arm, "How are you feeling?"

With a sigh, "Honestly I expected that, but it hurt more when it actually happened. But what can I say." I grab out drinks from the concession worker and thank her and turn on my heels to find a seat. "I love him, and if that means waiting to mend things, it worth it, even if it means waiting forever."

Will offers a sympathetic grin. "It'll work, just watch. Oh! Over there! Perfect seats!" He points as his attention was caught by an opening near the rink. He pursues it as I follow behind.

While we sit, we joke around, waiting for the rest of the gang to come sit and watch Benny get thrown around. Finally the last three show up and sit with us, Tom sat on Will's right side, me on his other side, Santi on my left, but when Frankie walks up, he bends down and whispers to Santi, causing him to scoot further away from me and leaving room for Frankie to slot himself between us. Which took me by surprise. Once he was seated, he glanced over to me and gave me a genuine smile.

We don't say a word as the lights begin to dim and the announcer's voice breaks through the speaks, introducing our dear Benny and his opponent.

Our small group starts to cheer and scream Benny's name, to show him support. As he enters the rink, he searches for us, and when he finds us, he smiles big.

In the midst of all the commotion, Frankie leans over and whispers to me, "I missed you, cariño (sweetheart)."

My face whips around to meet a very close Fish, who is smiling. "I missed you too." I give a small smile and lean to my side to shoulder bump him, as he places a hand on my knee.

[animalkingdom-an0nymous]

False God- Sean Wallace

Disclaimer: No gifs or photos are mine unless stated otherwise.

Warning: A violent, smutty NSFW Sean Wallace fic. What if that last day ended differently? What if Sean made it out with his wounds? And what if there was someone from his childhood who haunted him just as much as he haunted her?

Subject: Sean X Y/N

Growing up, Sean Wallace and I were one in the same. We liked the same jokes, ate our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut the same way- in triangles- and our only real difference was that I was an American. Our fathers, both legendary crime bosses in their own right, were great business partners and made each other filthy rich. We were dangerously similar.

Until we weren’t.

I’d been in America when Finn Wallace was murdered, and I’d stayed in America during the aftermath. My father had cared deeply for Finn, but the world we lived in was fucking brutal, cold, and my dad would never risk my well being by allowing me to go to the UK to be with Sean.

Hearing about all of it had been a nightmare, though. Hearing about murders and the carnage, communities and families wiped out when Sean locked the city down. My heart ached for the boy I once knew and feared for the man that was, and then, just as quickly as it all blew up, the flames went out. All was quiet.

Sean Wallace was dead.

Or so the world thought. My father, who had an in with Billy and Jac, knew the truth. The Wallace family had connections within the police force- cliché, right?- and when a few of their own found him lying in a pool of his own blood, bleeding out from his fucking face, they quickly pronounced him dead at the scene. I didn’t know the ins and outs, didn’t care to, because the life I lived now was so far from the life I was forced to live as a child. All I knew was they got him out of there and Sean Wallace, as London knew him, was dead.

I needed him to stay that way.

It had been nearly a year since then, nearly a year since I last had the nerve to ask my dad about him. I think he knew how I felt, knew I had gone to great lengths to distance myself from him and my mother and the hellish, brutal life they created. But that didn’t mean my dad didn’t love me. I knew he did in his own, twisted way, and I knew he caught on to the hurt I felt whenever Sean’s name was mentioned.

So he stopped mentioning it.

Billy and Jac were stateside and living under different names, that much I knew. I had yet to see them, but I knew they were close enough to drive to because my mother had made sure to mention in her last email that their “home was beautiful and they think it was quite rude of you not to come around and visit, Y/N.”

It was bullshit. Billy and Jac didn’t feel any type of way about me, we were never close. That was reserved specifically for Sean and me. And look how well that turned out.

I was haunted by the ghost of a man I didn’t even know anymore.

He was labeled as a terrorist and maybe that’s what hurt more than anything. I could never scream from the rooftops how much I fucking loved him because that’s crazy. Because who could love a terrorist? Who could love a man that had murdered, cheated, stolen to get his way? And if I did love him, what kind of woman did that make me?

It was a thought that had been in my mind on replay all day long, the musings drifting into the night as I drove towards my childhood home. I had made the agreement with my parents- namely my father- that once a month I would return home for dinner. It was nearly a two hour drive but one that I committed to because if I didn’t I knew they would show up at my apartment. And what twenty-something year old woman wants her parents showing up at her apartment unannounced?

The gravel ground under my tires as I pulled my all black BMW into the driveway. It was already dark and I knew my mother would have something to say about me showing up late, but at least I showed up. Sure, I was still wearing the navy blue pantsuit I’d worn at work all day and I usually changed whenever I had dinner with them, but my mind was occupied tonight. By thoughts of Sean. By thoughts of Sean getting his face blown off. Did it hurt? Did he remember? Would I ever know?

My father met me at the door. Six foot three and wide like a linebacker, the man was not to be messed with. He was no nonsense and the only people he smiled at were me and the people he was going to shoot right before he shot them. You can do what you want with that information.

“My little angel,” he said and reached for me, taking both my hands in his and bringing them to his lips. It was a simple gesture but one he did every single time. It was the one constant my dad ever provided me. “How was the drive up?”

“Traffic wasn’t too bad tonight, but I ended up getting out a bit later than I thought I would.”

He swung an arm around me as we made our way through the marble foyer, my heels clacking against the floor. “My art gallery owner. Your mother and I are so proud of you.”

I raised my eyebrows. He was feeding me bullshit, both he and my mom wanted me in the family business more than anything, but from the time I could voice my opinion I let them know. No. I would be taking no part in the family business.

Not that I didn’t know my shit. I knew my way around a gun shop and had a better shot than half the men my dad hired to protect us. I hit harder than my first two boyfriends and let everyone know that my last name was still my last name and not to fuck with me. I knew I was untouchable.

That didn’t mean I was embracing the lifestyle.

“Yeah, business is going great, I even hired someone part-time to help out.”

“Background check?”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Of course.”

“Family ties?”

“Her name is Mindy and she’s from a farm in rural Kansas.”

He paused and raised his eyebrows, one of the rare times my father ever looked shocked. “She doesn’t even know what our last name holds, does she?”

I shook my head. “Not a clue.”

He laughed his hearty, deep chuckle and stopped us at the bar cart outside of the dining room. As always, he grabbed two tumblers and threw a handful of ice in each before adding to fingers of whiskey. Our favorite. One of our few commonalities. “Proud of you, kid.”

“Thanks, dad.”

I was about to ask him how his week was when my mother’s voice drifted in from the balcony. She liked to drink her wine out there at night, before dinner. Just one glass, but it was a ritual she followed religiously. Her voice was somewhat raspy, a little cold, and I could hear her laughter as though it was wrapping around me like a vine.

But that was the thing; my mother drank her wine outside alone. That was her time. So who was she laughing at?

I glanced over my shoulder at my father to find him looking as though he was at a loss for words. It was so rare that he was speechless, a man of his stature always held a level of composure that was sometimes shocking. But not this time.

“Dad, wha-“

“You’re going to want to finish that drink, angel.”

My blood ran cold at his words. His tone was low, suddenly serious. The lighthearted moment from before was gone, something dark and heavy in its place.

I should have listened to him and finished the drink because as soon as I turned around I was met with the coldest, most pristine set of blue eyes I’d ever seen. Eyes that I once swore I would drown in someday.

Sean Wallace was standing eight feet in front of me. It was the first time we had seen each other in years, the first time I’d seen him since he was… dead.

His face was… fucked. Marred by the bullet that ripped through his left cheek on that fateful day. The skin was raised, almost burn-like, and left a medium sized indent in what would otherwise be a perfectly symmetrical face. His left eyelid held a little lower and it looked like he tried to cover up the other, minor scars with the facial hair that littered his jaw and around his mouth.

But even with the new, broken face, Sean Wallace was still the most breathtaking man in the room. His suit was impeccable and fit him like a glove, the stormy gray matching the storm that seemed to be raging in his eyes. His tie was a navy that matched my own suit and it felt like the universe was pointing at me and laughing. It felt like that bitch was having the time of her life watching me suffer.

“I…” I started, unsure of how to finish.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I know this” he held a hand up to his face “is a lot to take in.”

I already shook my head, my stomach turning at the thought of him thinking he was ugly. “No! No, I… I, I’m, I wasn’t-“

“Best private schools in the state and she still has that damn stutter.” My mother’s cutting voice ceased my own and I bit at the inside of my cheek. She came around the corner in all her glory, designer dress, perfect manicure and not a hair out of place.

She made me fucking sick.

“It’s nice to see you.” I finally managed to get the words out, although I didn’t know if I was talking to Sean or my mom.

“Jesus, Y/N, you couldn’t even change first?”

“I think she looks great.” Sean’s voice caught everyone off guard and even my mom turned to look at him. “Beautiful, really. You always looked great in a suit.”

I knew he was referring to my high school graduation. Sean was two years older and had flown in to see me graduate. My mom, ever the lady, was determined to force me into a nightmare of a ball gown while I wanted a simple, chic suit. Sean had been there for the entire screaming match, laughing at my mother as she tripped over the dress she had been hellbent on making me wear.

I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged my lips and nodded at him. “Thank you.”

He nodded in return and said nothing else.

“Let’s eat, shall we?” I felt my dad’s hand on my back as he ushered me into the dining room. My feet felt like stone blocks were attached to them as I walked, feeling Sean directly behind me with his eyes burning holes into my suit jacket.

We all sat in silence with the ghost of my past sitting directly across from me. Sean made no secret that he was staring at me and it reminded me of the ignorant young boy I once knew. Sean knew he was handsome, powerful, and could easily get his way. He held himself with the confidence of a man who had everything and it seemed a gunshot to the face didn’t change that.

“You’ve managed to stay under the radar.” I noted as one of the maids poured red wine into my glass.

“Y/N!” my mother scolded.

I raised my eyebrows and didn’t glance in her direction, my eyes holding Sean’s. “What? Are we supposed to sit here and pretend everything is normal? You want me to ask him about the weather?”

“Y/N…” my father’s tone held a warning in it.

“No, she’s right.” Sean spoke up as I took a hearty gulp of wine. “Facial reconstruction had me laid up for a bit. Reconstructing an entire cheekbone can be tricky. And expensive.”

I nodded. “Especially when the entire cheekbone belongs to a dead man.”

The room fell quiet with even the staff scurrying to disappear. My mother was glaring at me and I was sure my father was too, but I didn’t care. I’d spent my entire childhood and teen years caring about and loving Sean only for him to cut me off when he became Finn’s minion and then fake his own fucking death a few years after. He got so caught up in the Wallace life, in the life I thought we both hated, that he forgot about me. And I was angry about it.

“I deserve that.” His accent was the same as always. Smooth. Elegant. The best that private school could buy. “I should have reached out sooner as I knew my siblings were in touch.”

My mother, the martyr, was quick to reassure him. “Sweetheart, you don’t owe us anything. We’re just so happy you’re alright.”

She was so warm with him, a complete contrast to how she acted with me. It was a constant reminder that she always wanted a son and ended up with me instead.

My father opened his mouth to speak when his right hand, Marcus, walked in with a phone in his hand. His face looked pinched, stressed, and my father immediately stood. “Excuse me.”

Sean nodded politely and turned to my mother, but she was already standing and following behind dad, sensing his stress.

“Should we be concerned?”

I shook my head, my eyes still trained in the doorway. “I doubt it.”

Things were quiet then. Too fucking quiet. So quiet I felt like I was suffocating. I took a sip of wine. Then another. Another until my glass was empty and the bottle was taunting me from the center of the table.

“You have every right to be angry.”

“I’m not angry.” I was instantly defensive.

His smile was small, but it was there. “You always were a shit liar.”

“You were always a good one.”

His smile disappeared then and I was soon sitting across from the gangster that was always lurking underneath. Sean could do cool, calm, and collected. But he could only hide the angry, arrogant Wallace traits for so long. 

“I… can’t remember the last time we were face to face.”

I shrugged my shoulders, suddenly uncomfortable. “Christmas. Six years ago. Kingston.”

His smile- God, that fucking smile- reappeared. “You threw a drink in my face.”

“You called me a spoiled fucking twat.”

“You were acting like one.”

Now it was my turn to smile. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help it. My early twenties were filled with vodka soda fueled arguments and boyfriends that my family- and Sean- hated. I was so different, that girl doesn’t even seem real anymore.

I was about to respond when I heard shouting coming from down the hall. My father’s office.

Sean and I stood at the same time, both of us sensing a certain level of danger. My father rarely ever shouted, it had to be something catastrophic for him to raise his voice like that.

Entering the hall, I quickly grabbed my bag next to the bar cart and produced my glock before tucking it into my waistband. Sean watched me silently the entire time. He was getting a little too comfortable with staring at me.

“Always prepared.”

“Family business, right?” I shot back at him over my shoulder as we neared my father’s study.

“No, no, fucking No! What do you mean they’re all dead? An entire fucking warehouse of people and they’re all fucking dead?”

My heart stopped in my chest. That was… impossible. The warehouses were untouchable, no one knew where they were unless they were part of our inner circle. Our microscopic inner circle. Which could only mean one thing…

It was an inside job.

“Fuck.” I spat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Y/N, something’s happened.” My mother appeared in the doorway as we approached.

“Who did it?” I asked, getting straight to the point. “Any ideas?”

My dad was seated behind his wooden desk, a desk so large it was fit for a king. When I was a child I would spend hours in there reading on the stuffed leather couch while he worked silently. It was one of the few places I felt “safe” growing up.

“Kensington’s dead.” Our eyes met.

Rodger Kensington was my father’s longtime business partner and someone who was like an uncle to me. He’d been there at my prom, my graduation, and when I took my first steps. He was… family.

“Shit.” Sean’s word was quick and quiet, but then I remembered he knew Rodger too, and he knew what this meant.

“What about Sherry? The kids?” I was desperate to make sure their little ones were alright, they were all so young.

“They’re fine. They weren’t home, they-“

My father never got the words out as one of the staff walked in. I had turned at the sound of him entering the room, just barely meeting his eye as he raised his arm, a small handgun pointed directly at the man whose home we were in.

“Y/N!” My mother screaming my name like that would haunt my nightmares for months after.

A single shot rang out and my ears rang, a gasp leaving my lips as I reached for the gun in my waistband. But it wasn’t there.

The man was dead, a gunshot to the temple with crimson blood spilling all over the Italian wood floors. And then there was Sean, standing at my side with my gun pointed straight ahead, a dead look in his eyes.

It was all dangerously quiet and I could hear my own heartbeat, but only for a moment. Because as soon as I took a single breath, shit hit the fan.

My mother released a blood curdling scream, Marcus rushing to her side and grabbing her as she collapsed. My father, stoic, stood and walked over to the wardrobe near the window, swiftly pulling out guns and rounds of ammo. More security rushed in and I stood next to Sean, everything moving in slow motion. I could hear voices, hear my dad barking commands at his security who acted like his soldiers.

“There’s blood on my shoes.”

“What?”

What? Did I just say there was blood on my shoes? But it was true. My expensive cream suede shoes had blood splatter on them and I was ninety percent sure there was bone fragment near my heel.

“Blood. On my shoes.” My voice sounded far away.

Sean was suddenly in front of me and tucking my gun back into my waist while everyone shouted around us. “I’ll buy you a new pair. Bought them at the store on fifth, yeah?”

“How the fuck did you-“ I stopped, putting two and two together. “Have you been watching me?”

Sean’s face changed then and he straightened his shoulders. Our height nearly matched but only because of my heels, and I knew his gesture was dominant, authoritative. “I promise we can talk about that later, but-“

I pushed past him and walked towards my father who was barking orders into a phone. “Did you have Sean keep tabs on me?”

“Y/N, this isn’t the time for you to complain about your independence.”

I slammed my hand down on the wooden desk the same way I had watched him do it so. Many. Times. “Answer me!”

My father, all six foot three of him, stood tall and looked over me even with a desk separating us. “Watch yourself, young lady.”

“What the fuck is going on that you hired someone to watch me? That you hired Sean to watch me? What aren’t you telling me?”

He paused for the briefest of moments while everyone moved around us. I could hear safeties being turned off, my mom screaming down the hallway, and feel Sean standing close enough that I could smell his cologne.

“I’ve known for a bit that someone on the inside was giving information to Merkov brothers. Rodger and I spent months sifting through the weeds trying to figure out who it was. We had a break last night, I was going to tell you everything-“

“Four black SUV’s were spotted five miles from the property. Moving quickly. We need to go.” Marcus had appeared in the doorway sans my mother, his face wiped of anything sort of emotion. In fact, Marcus may have been the most emotionless man I had ever come into contact with. I would even venture to call him heartless.

“Shit.” My dad scrubbed a hand over his face. “I promise I will tell you everything, angel.” He looked at me, the desk separating us. “But right now you need to go and it can’t be back to your apartment.”

“Dad, I…” I had no idea what to say. I couldn’t go back to my apartment in the city, there was most definitely a hit out on my family, including myself, and Sean Wallace was back from the fucking dead. My day was going from bad to worse, my life blowing up in a twenty minute time span.

But I knew my last name, knew the weight it carried. I knew I had a certain responsibility to handle my shit and handle it well, with my shoulders back and my chin up.

“Where am I going?”

He was already on the move and I was on his heels, following him down the winding hallways of the home I grew up in. It was the same house that was sure to be shot to shit as soon as those SUV’s showed up.

“Harbor House.” He barked over his shoulder. “You can drive down there in the charger. Tinted windows. Marcus, have Anthony load a bag into the car. Ammo, guns, everything she’ll need.”

“No one knows where Harbor House is except us.” I reminded him. His business partners may have known about the warehouses and my father’s permanent residence, but Harbor House was for family and family alone.

“I’m not taking any chances, Y/N, not with you. Sean will accompany you and you’ll stay there until you hear from me. I’ll call-“

“What?” I cut him off. “Sean’s not coming with me.”

“I’m not taking any chances with you.” He repeated.

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

Sean cleared his throat behind me and I refused to look at him. I knew he was offended by what I’d said, but quite honestly I was offended by everything he had done since stepping foot in my parents’ home that day.

“This isn’t about what you need or want, Y/N. He’s going with you.”

I was about to fully lose my temper when shots rang out through the house. I reached for my glock and turned the safety off, immediately ducking behind a marble pillar with Sean’s hand on my elbow, holding me still.

There was yelling and gunshots, some of the housekeepers screaming bloody murder from the second and third floors. There was no way those SUV’s were already on the property, no way. It had to be someone else.

Someone had burned our entire fucking family.

“Dad!” I yelled as a bullet whirred past my head.

“Y/N, go! Now!” I could hear him but I couldn’t fucking see him. Marco was beating the shit out of a man dressed all in black, ripping his gun away and firing off a round into his chest. The smell of blood and gunpowder burned my nostrils and I winced.

“I’m not leaving you!” I screamed so loud my voice cracked.

“Sean!” My father shouted. “Get her the fuck out of here! Get her out now, kid! Now!”

I glanced over at Sean, warning him with my eyes not to touch me, but it was too late. He ripped the gun from my hand and wrapped an arm around my waist, tugging me backwards.

“Sean, no!” I screamed, trying to pull away.

“We have to go, Y/N.” He dragged me down the hall while I fought him the whole way , dragging my feet and scratching at the suit clad arm wrapped around my waist. He finally stopped at the side door at the end of the hall and yanked it open before tossing me in.

I stumbled across the cold concrete of the garage and caught myself against the car I was supposed to be leaving in.

Sean locked the door behind him and turned to me, my gun still in his hand. “In.” He motioned to the car.

Still the same, bossy man he always was. Without responding, I turned and made my way across the expansive garage, shoving a table out of the way and yanking open the drawers of a metal cabinet.

“Y/N!” Sean was losing his temper and we were losing time.

“You took my gun!” I finally screamed back, practically growling at him as I picked up twin Berettas and tucked them into the back of my waistband. I grabbed a rifle to throw into the backseat, and one more Glock since Sean had unceremoniously stolen mine and left me empty handed.

He was staring at me as I made my way back to the car, his chest heaving. God, he still looked good. A gunshot to the face only amplified how rough and beautiful he was. Dumb fucking asshole and his dumb fucking face.

I grabbed the keys from the wall and tossed them to Sean who caught them with one hand.

Show off, I thought to myself sullenly as I got into the passenger side, my heart leaping out of my chest. I was about to leave my parents to potentially die. My childhood home was being torn apart, half the staff that knew me since I was a child were now lying dead in the same house they’d dedicated their lives to. It made me sick.

“Just focus on driving.” I told him as the garage door began to rise. I could already see the shadows of feet on the concrete leaned halfway out the window, my nine millimeter raised. One shot to the knee and a man fell, a second shot between the eyes and he was done.

The second man was smart, moved off to the side and just out of aim, and Sean floored the gas pedal while I kept watch.

“Your left.” I said quietly and pointed the gun in front of him, sending shots flying out of the driver’s side door, taking out the second man who had been waiting for us.

“Three of them in front of the gate.” Sean nodded towards the gate at the side of the property, all of them holding assault rifles and aiming at us. “Duck.” he commanded with the car still in reverse.

“What?”

“Duck.” I felt his hand grab at the back of my head he shoved me down, my forehead nearly knocking against my knee as he picked up speed. A loud blast blew out the back windshield and then there was a loud, violent thunk.

His wide palm was still resting on the back of my head, grip so tight it made my scalp prickle in a way that annoyed me. My body had no business getting turned on while in the midst of this shit.

When the tires squealed against the gravel and we went surging forward, I sat back up. I could see smoke coming out of the windows, bullet holes in the brick and mortar. It was a fucking war zone and we were on our way out, leaving behind my family and any shred of sanity I had left.

Fuck.

* * * * * *

The ride to Harbor House was almost completely silent. Sean, ever the Brit, would curse out other drivers every now and then even though ninety percent of the mistakes were his own. Maybe I should have insisted on driving, but at the time the only thing I could think about was whether or not my parents got out.

Although we were never close, I didn’t wish death on my parents. Sure, I resented them for bringing me up in a life of chaos and violence and I’m well aware they caused me a lifetime of trauma, but that didn’t mean I wanted them dead. Definitely not murdered.

It was nearly midnight by the time we arrived. Harbor House was in an exclusive neighborhood and every home had a gate. It had been years since I was last at the house, but it held the only fond memories from my childhood. Harbor House and the Wallace house always felt like home to me. Strange that I was sitting next to a Wallace and not a single shred of me felt comfortable or at home. It was strange, when we were kids he was always my safe space.

I punched in the code and black iron gates opened up, promptly closing with a loud clang behind us. The property itself was a sprawling estate with a two floor home as well as a large yard, pool, and separate guest house. It was on the edge of a cliff and overlooked the Atlantic. Isolated. Safe. Private. The kind of place my family relied on to keep us safe.

“Pull the car into the garage, we’ll get a rental tomorrow.” My voice was monotonous. I felt so drained of every emotion other than pure exhaustion. I was covered in blood, my clothes smelled like gunpowder and sweat, I needed a hot shower.

Sean silently pulled into the garage and killed the engine. We sat there quietly for a moment, so quiet I couldn’t even hear him breathing. If he had any blood on him, I couldn’t tell. From this angle he looked every bit the GQ model. It was only when he turned his face to look at me that I got a glimpse of the mauled left half and got angry all over again.

I was angry at my parents for birthing me into this.

I was angry at whoever burned us.

I was angry at Sean for disappearing from my life in favor of violence. But I was so fucking angry that he had let it go so far that the world thought he was dead.

I almost wished he was.

“There’s five bedrooms. I trust that you’ll find one far away from me?” I phrased it like a question but we both knew it wasn’t.

He gave a curt nod.

The house was exactly as I remembered it. It even smelled the same. Hardwood floors, light walls, French doors leading to a beautiful deck. A kitchen so modern it would make Gordon Ramsey cream his pants. It was the homiest home my family had. It was my haven.

Only now Sean was here to cast a shadow over it.

“There’s plenty of clothes in all the guest bedrooms. My parents like to be prepared for every emergency, you know that.”

Sean nodded as he closed the door that connected to the garage. He locked it and was quick to set the code. The code that he definitely shouldn’t have had.

“How did you-“

“Your father.”

I raised my eyebrows incredulously. “My father gave you the codes to Harbor House?”

He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, eyes narrowing. “He gave me the code for the gate too, but I was polite enough to let you do it. That’s something, innit?”

He was being a smart ass, pushing my buttons on purpose simply because he could. Or because he’d had enough of my attitude. Either way, I wasn’t having it.

“You must be so fuckin’ proud of yourself. You still have an in with my father even after the shit you pulled in London. My father, Sean, not me. You don’t have shit with me and you made that perfectly clear.”

He squared his shoulders and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I sat on the edge of a beautiful cream colored sofa. I couldn’t wait to sink into it tomorrow with a good book.

I quickly fingered at the straps on my heels and kicked them off while mentally preparing for whatever speech he was about to throw my way.

“I’ve really had enough of you talking to me like I’m some shit person. Enough, Y/N.”

I stood back up, hating that I was smaller than him now as I turned on my heel and headed up the stairs. “If you hate my attitude so much then leave me the fuck alone and let me take a shower in peace.”

* * * * *

My shower was hot and relaxing and everything I needed. As soon as the steam surrounded me, I was able to calm down a bit, and once the hot water hit my skin I was able to sigh in relief. Washing off the blood and grime left me feeling like a whole new woman.

So new, in fact, I briefly forgot about the bane of my existence showering down the hall.

Sean. Showering. Sean in the shower with water dripping down his chest and into that perfect V of his hips. Sean’s hot, wet body pressed against mine. Sean’s-

“Can you not?” I said to my reflection as I ran a brush through my hair. Even when I was angry at him, violently angry, it was impossible to deny that he was attractive.

We never hooked up, not even when we were young. But there was always something there. We flirted. We toyed with each other. We got into nasty arguments. People noticed, my friends made comments. I always ignored them and played it off and said it was because we knew each other forever and just connected that way. They all argued that it was more.

I ignored them.

After changing into a comfortable pair of loose cotton pants and a long sleeved shirt, I made my way downstairs. The windows were open and I could hear the waves crashing against the cliff side. My favorite sound. It gave me peace. It soothed me.

The kitchen was empty and I grabbed a bottle of red wine with every intention of drinking the entire bottle. After pouring a rather large amount into the pristine crystal stemware my mother bought, I threw my head back and took a long, large sip.

Ugh. That’s better. I closed my eyes and took another sip, getting lost in the sound of the waves and the dark, cherry taste of the wine. A moment of peace after all the bullshit I had to endure tonight.

It was only when Sean cleared his throat that I realized I wasn’t alone. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs wearing black sweats and a white t-shirt. Simple. Clean. Comfortable. If this had been a few years ago I would have been aching to curl up against him.

“Kitchen’s all yours,” I said as I grabbed my glass and bottle, preparing to go out back.

“You told me you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.” His words cut like a knife to my retreating back and it made me pause, not yet turning around. “You fucking told me you were done.”

I knew what he was referring to. The last time we spoke had been over the phone, maybe four years ago. It had been a normal night with normal conversation and normal “I miss yous”. Sean had truly been one of my best friends and closest confidants. And then the conversation turned ugly when he informed me his father was sending him out on a seriously violent, potentially fatal, mission. Our argument had gotten vile and I said horrible things. He did too, including telling me to “stop acting like a girlfriend because you’re so fucking lonely”.

That had been my breaking point. He reminded me so much of Finn then. He dressed like him, spoke like him, became a carbon copy of him, and I was having none of it. So I had told him to fuck off and lose my number, to never call me again, to pretend I was dead.

It was the one time Sean listened to me and the one time I wished he hadn’t.

To this day, I got embarrassed when I thought about what he had said to me. The way he screamed and the way he humiliated me. Maybe I was lonely, maybe it came off as clingy, but my intentions were always good and I never thought I was a burden to him. But after that last conversation I spent years telling myself that’s exactly what I was. A burden. I checked in too much, my double texting him probably got on his nerves. Constantly complaining about our families when I knew how fortunate I was to live such a lavish life made me sound spoiled, he got tired of it. I spent years convincing myself there was no possible way he missed me and I didn’t miss him either.

“Do you even remember our last conversation?” I turned slowly to face him. “Do you remember what you said?”

He took a step forward and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Of course I do. I’ve had plenty of time to think about it- you. I’d been out drinking with my father-“

“And then turned into him?”

“Oh, fuck off then.” He shook his head, his frustration evident as he rounded the marble island in the kitchen. An expert, he seemed to know where everything was. The glasses. The whiskey.

“I’m not wrong.” I defended myself.

Sean laughed and the sound was hollow, sarcastic. He took a sip of whiskey before turning to me with a cold look in his eyes. “And I wasn’t wrong that day either. Was I?”

I scowled at him to mask the absolute hurt I was experiencing. My heart ached. He’d known he was hurting me. He didn’t care. He remembered and he didn’t care.

“Oh, fuck you, Sean.” I whispered before quickly pushing through the french doors and stepping onto the deck.

“Oi!” Sean shouted as I slammed the doors behind me, taking off down the steps, wine glass in hand.

“I’m not done talking to you.” Sean was hot on my heels.

“The conversation is over.”

“Like hell it is.” I felt long, thick fingers curl around my elbow and then he was hauling me back against him. “You say what you want to say and then think we’re done. We’re not.”

I ripped my arm back and shoved my finger in his face. “I’ve waited four years to say this shit to you!”

“So have I!” He shouted back, the vein in his neck becoming prominent. The female part of my brain wondered what it would feel like to run my tongue along that vein, feel it pulse against my mouth.

Wrong time, I thought to myself and shook my head. “You fucked off for four years, faked your own death, and now I found out my father has had you following me. I don’t know what kind of weird, stalker fetish you’ve developed, but it’s really not doing anything for me.”

Okay, maybe that last part was flat out bitchy, but at that point I didn’t care.

I drained my wine glass while I waited for his response.

“Would you like to tell me about your fetishes?”

“Sure, they all involve watching you bleed out.”

“Should have been there a year ago then, yeah?”

I didn’t have a response for that. I zeroed in on the left half of his face, the scar on his cheek. His cheekbone curved differently, probably because it was handmade, and his scar disappeared into his stubble. He looked so vastly different from the Sean I used to know. He was hardened by life, by Finn’s life. Thirty and angry and alone and legally dead.

I ached for the Sean I once knew, but this wasn’t him.

“How long have you been watching me?”

“A little more than three months.”

“Three months?” I was shocked. I’d had a tail for three months and I didn’t even know it? How embarrassing.

“You wouldn’t have known.” It was as though he could read my mind. “I’ve always been better at it than you.”

“You’re so fucking cocky.” I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or slap him, so instead I walked past him and back up the stairs, making my way back into the house to refill my glass. I knew he was following me, knew that the alcohol in my bloodstream was making me feel bold, more bold than I was sober.

Sean closed the French doors, the lock clicking with a tone of finality. I was too aware of it.

“You were shit as hide and seek when we were kids.”

“So that makes you a better spy?”

His tone was serious when he responded. “I was never spying on you. I didn’t have access to your flat. I didn’t follow you around with that ugly wanker with gray hair.”

“Leave Beckett out of this.”

“Beckett?” It was the first time his face had resembled something other than anger. He looked amused. “You’re dating a man named Beckett?”

I cocked my head to the side, narrowing my eyes. “We actually aren’t discussing my dating life, we’re talking about my stalker.”

“Stop saying that. It was to and from work. Only when you were out in public.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!” I finally shouted. None of what happened today was okay. Sean, my dad, the shootout. None of it was okay. “You don’t get to keep up with my fucking life when I have to pretend you’re dead!”

“Lower your voice.” Sean took a step forward.

“Fuck off!” I shouted even louder than before. “You don’t get to just come back and bark orders at me. This isn’t London, Sean!”

“Enough.” He took another step forward and I backed up, reaching for my wine glass.

He was so calm, so fucking collected while I was beginning to fall apart. I hated him for it. Fuck Sean Wallace, I wanted him to hurt the way I did. So, without thinking twice, I hurled my glass at him. Sean barely dodged it, whipping his head to the side as it soared past him and landed on the floor in a million little pieces.

He was a blur as he flew across the kitchen, growling as he slammed my back up against the wall. I cried out as searing pain sent shock waves down my back, but I was too angry to focus on it. My hands instantly went into fight mode and my fingers caught the tip of his nose as I swiped at him, but he pulled his head back, out of my reach.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” He roared in my face. “Are you bloody mental?” His hands circled my wrists and he pinned them at my sides, effectively halting my movements.

Stuck between Sean and the wall, I suddenly couldn’t breathe. “Let me go.”

“The fuck I will.” He squeezed my wrists harder.

“Sean.” I shoved myself against him and he did the same thing, his face even closer than before. I could smell the whiskey on his breath, see the smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. God, he was a sight. “Fuck. Off.”

His eyes zeroed in on my mouth as I enunciated the words, nostrils flaring slightly. My breasts were pressed against his chest and I couldn’t move even if I wanted to, because suddenly we were staring each other eye to eye and I couldn’t look anywhere else. I was drowning the way I always imagine I would except this time I didn’t want it. I wanted no part of it.

“Don’t even think about it.” I whispered softly.

“Or what?” Sean’s remark felt snide and childish, something I would have happily said to him had he not leaned down and slid his lips over mine. It was a light touch, so soft I barely felt it. But I still gasped because it was Sean’s lips touching mine and I hated that I liked it so much.

At the sound of my sharp intake of breath, he smirked. “I fucking knew it.” And then he smashed his lips against mine, not letting up on the grip he had on my wrists.

Sean’s tongue pushed past my lips and slid against mine, weakening my reserve just a bit. He tasted good, his scruff scratched against the edges of my mouth and I reveled in it, loving how rough he felt.

He fucking engulfed my mouth, taking complete control of the kiss and demanding that I give him more. Forgetting the position we were in, he let go of my wrists in favor of cupping my face, wide palms against my cheeks.

I should have pushed him away, should have told him to leave, but the simple truth was that Sean Wallace knew how to kiss. He kissed like a man, held my face, stroked rough thumbs over my cheekbones, and swallowed my moans. He crowded me, stood so close our torsos were touching while we made out against the kitchen wall. Our tongues touched, teeth clashed, and when I sucked Sean’s bottom lip into my mouth the groan he let out was guttural. Animalistic.

But the noise was enough to bring me back to reality and I shoved my hands against his chest, pushing him away from me as hard as I could.

Sean stumbled back and caught himself on the counter. He was just as caught up as I was, his eyes wild, cheeks flushed red.

“You’ve got some nerve.” I cleared my throat and wiped my mouth, still tasting him on my tongue.

“Me?” He had the audacity to smile, still clearly fired up. “You were the one sucking my lip like it was my cock.”

My cheeks felt hot. The way he said cock with the accent and the smirk… it murdered me on the inside. It absolutely killed me how good it sounded. “You wish.”

“Every fucking night.” Sean stepped forward again. “I think about you sucking my cock every. Fucking. Night.”

His admission left me breathless. It felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. The thought of Sean laying in bed at night and thinking about my mouth wrapped around his dick lit me up. I was hot everywhere.

“Sean-“

“Shut the fuck up.” He crowded me again, this time wrapping one arm around my back and pulling me against him. “For once in your life, please, Y/N, shut the fuck up.”

Cupping the back of my head, Sean kissed me again. I wanted to fight him, wanted to tell him to fuck off, but that would only prove him right. I really did have a problem with shutting the fuck up.

So, I kissed him back. I gave it my all, twining my arms around his neck and leaning against him. Sean tongue fucked my mouth as though he’d been dying to for years, and after his admission I wondered if he had. His body felt warm against mine and feeling his fingertips glide along the exposed area of my lower back made my knees nearly buckle.

He smiled against my mouth and before I knew it, Sean was sliding both hands down, gripping my hips and hoisting me in the air. My legs locked around his waist instantly, ankles crossing at the small of his back while he carried me through the kitchen.

Our mouths never stopped touching. I’d been waiting years to kiss Sean. I’d been waiting years to slap the fuck out of him as well, but right now the only thing I cared about was keeping our mouths fused together for as long as humanly possible. I felt drunk on him, on the taste of whiskey on his tongue.

I didn’t realize we were in the living room until Sean sat down on the couch with me straddling his lap. I took the opportunity to pull back slightly, his lips chasing my own, and I smiled at the way he leaned forward. I cupped the right side of his face, loving the way his scruff felt against my soft palm. He truly was beautiful, the red-brown hair and beard, the plump mouth that spent more time scowling than smiling. His freckles, God, when we were young I could have spent hours counting them.

And then there was that scar. That brutal, obvious scar. The trauma his body must have gone through made me sick and when I reached up to run my fingers over the jagged, raised skin, Sean was quick to grab my wrist in a bruising grip.

“Don’t touch me there.”

But I wanted to. So badly. But it was clear in his reaction, in the stiffness of his body, that he was serious. Of all the limits Sean DIDN’T have, touching the left side of his face was one of them and I had no choice but to respect it.

“Fine, how about you touch me then?”

It was all the incentive Sean needed and he flipped me onto my back, hovering over me with one hand braces on the back of the couch. Our eyes held as I slid my hands down his chest, his heartbeat pulsing under my hand as I slid lower, lower still until I gripped the hem of his shirt and yanked it up. He leaned back, only for a moment to rip the shirt off his head and send it flying.

Fair skinned with broad shoulders and a tapered waist, I itched to lick the V that disappeared into his waistband. He may have been injured, but he hasn’t been resting this last year. Sean didn’t have the body of a man who rested, he had the Jody of a man who was constantly pushing himself. He was strong in every sense of the word and it made me pathetically, desperately wet for him.

“Your turn,” he said against my lips, fingers playing under my shirt and sliding along my ribs. “You’re so fucking soft.” He whispered against the skin of my cheek.

Unable to help myself, I reached down to cup him through his sweats. Jesus… Christ. “You’re so fucking not.”

Sean laughed then, but I was dead serious. Either Sean was hiding a gun in his pants or his cock was just that fucking solid. And… thick. Even through his pants I could tell. I squeezed once and he let out a guttural groan, the sound sending shock waves between my legs. I wanted that sound on a loop for the rest of my life.

He pushed my shirt up and over my head, eyes zeroing in on my breasts. “Fuck me…” He trailed off, cupping one in his hand and giving a firm squeeze as he settled his eight between my legs. I could feel him against my clit even with barriers of clothing separating us.

“I always wondered what your nipples looked like.” He licked one gently and my back arched hard, my whole body tightening. “They’re so much better than my imagination.”

Sean fastened his mouth against my nipple and he sucked, flicking his tongue against the sensitive bud while I writhed underneath him. My nails scraped through his shirt hair, digging into his scalp and holding him against me. He said he had wondered what they would look like, but I spent the better part of a decade wondering what this would feel like.

Fuck, it felt good.

Sean’s hips ground against mine as he moved to my other nipple, hands roaming felt over my body, gripping my clothes thighs and sliding up my sides. Tracing along my collarbone, fingers tugging at the nipple that wasn’t getting any attention.

I felt like a horny teenager, aching to have him inside me as fast as humanly possible. My nails raked over his shoulders and he gave a delicious growl in return, leaning up and hovering over me again. 

“I’ve thought about your mouth on my cock for ages, but right now the only thing I want is to be buried inside you. That okay?”

I was modding before he even finished speaking. Fuck a blowjob, fuck foreplay. I didn’t need that with Sean, not now. Right now I just needed… connection. I was almost desperate for it and it fucking terrified me.

Sean leaned back on his knees and hooked his fingers into my pants, tugging them down in one swift move and leaving me completely naked and sprawled out in front of him. His eyes raked over me and my breath hitched in my throat. He could see… everything.

“Fuck me… this body was fucking made for me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, wiggling my brows. “A bit cocky, yeah?”

“No.” His face was serious, eyes focused as they raked over my breasts, my hips, my legs, zeroing in on the spot between my thighs. Sean slid one long, thick finger over my slit and I cried out, my body stiffening. “I knew you’d be bald here.” He repeated the motion. “Been dying to see that tattoo on your thigh for ages.”

I’d gotten the tattoo when I was 20 and officially moved out of my parents house. It was one of those stupid young decisions, but I didn’t regret it. It was a snake that wrapped all the way around my right thigh, the snake’s tongue permanently engraved on my inner thigh like an invitation. Or a warning.

“And?” I asked inquisitively, rubbing a hand absentmindedly down my stomach.

“And I think this body was fucking made for me.”

His lips came crashing down on mine again and I wrapped my bare legs around his waist, loving the way his hip bones pressed into my thighs. He littered kisses over my cheekbone, an oddly sweet gesture, and then absolutely assaulted my neck, licking and biting and nipping at my collarbone until I cried out.

I reached down, yanking at his sweats and pushing them down his thighs with my heels. I was fucking dying for Sean Wallace to be inside of me, I couldn’t even breathe because I wanted him so badly. Needed him, needed to know what it was like to feel him.

“Sean.” I gasped as he braced one hand above my head, the other one gripping his cock and lining it up at my entrance. I gripped his bicep when he pushed the tip in, my nails digging half crescents into his skin.

“Sean.” I repeated his name, this time somewhat panicked because what the fuck was I doing? Was I really about to fuck him?

“Remember when I told you to shut the fuck up?” Sean’s eyes met mine and he gave one sharp, hard thrust and was suddenly inside me so deep I swore I could feel him in my cervix.

I didn’t even have time to gasp, my mouth fell open in a silent scream and Sean’s groan was something I’d think about for months. He was so deep I felt as though I couldn’t breathe, looking up at him completely frozen.

“Oh, fuck.” He finally breathed out. “That’s right, so good you can’t even speak.”

“I… hate you.” I finally managed, leaning up and catching his bottom lip between my teeth, tugging so hard he let out a groan of pain.

“You don’t hate me.” Sean pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back inside me, giving me no warning or time to breathe. But the yelp I let out was enough to make him smirk.

Cocky bastard.

Fine, I could play. Tightening my legs around his waist, I raked my nails down his back and watched his face change, jaw clenching tight. I licked his collarbone before sucking the skin there. I sucked hard and didn’t stop until I felt his fingers tangle in my hair and yank me back, forcing me to look at him.

“You’re not the fucking boss right now.” He practically growled the words, not letting up on the grip on my hair. He pumped in and out of me, my scalp pricking with a weird, pleasurable pain that left me moaning for more.

Sean’s thrusts got harder and I cried out when he hit that spot, so deep I could feel him everywhere. “Sean!” I cried his name, my breath hitching in my throat.

He let my hair go in favor of those perfect ducking fingers wrapping around my throat. His thumb pressed firmly under my jaw, I had no other choice but to look at him as he fucked me into oblivion.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He groaned, pressure on my throat tightening just a bit. “Thought about you every fucking day.”

I was instantly thrown back into reality. Everything that happened that day. The shooting. Sean coming back from the dead, all of it.

“Nope, stay with me.” Sean commanded, sensing my disconnect. He slowed his thrusts leaning down to lick at my lips lightly. It was oddly erotic and I found myself whimpering for more. “That’s it, relax for me.”

“I…” I started desperately. “I can’t. Sean-“

He squeezed my throat harder and I suddenly gasped, my air being cut off. “Relax.” His voice was oddly soothing. “You can still breathe.”

I shook my head.

He paused his thrusts, once again settling deep inside me with my legs splayed. “Yes, you can. I’m not squeezing that hard. Breathe.”

I took in a breath. It was shallow, but it was there. Letting it out slowly, I repeated the motion, Sean catching on and thrusting every time I exhaled. It all felt different like this, barely able to breathe and dripping wet onto the couch. I’d never wanted someone more and I was terrified, I’d never been “handled” the way he was handling me, treating me like I was his.

“Been waiting years to feel you come on my cock.” He groaned when he released my throat, leaning back on his heels and looking down at where we were connected. “God, you’re soaked. Made a proper mess all over me.”

I moaned because at that point words were not possible. My stomach felt tight, I felt like I was going to cry or laugh or scream. I felt like I was going crazy.

And then Sean rubbed his thumb over my clit, watching me jerk, and I knew I was done for. He did it again and again, giving me shallow strokes while he rubbed the little bundle of nerves that were certainly going to send me into a tailspin.

“Sean, please.” My back arched and I shouted, so fucking close, teetering on the edge.

“Come all over my cock so I can watch you lick it off after.”

My mouth fell open and I screamed his name, my orgasm hitting me like a ton of bricks. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling Sean lean over me and wrap an arm around my back.

He picked up the pace while I clung to him, whispering in my ear about how he’d wanted it forever, how this was his, how I was his. It was overwhelming, yet I couldn’t bring myself to do anything other than rake my nails through his hair and whisper his name over and over again in his ear.

“Fuck.” Sean’s groan was long and low, stroking into me one, two, three more times before holding himself still, his climax hitting him as hard as mine hit me. 

His arms shook as he held himself over me, eventually collapsing onto my chest in a huff. We sat there silently, the sound of the waves crashing against the cliff side lulling us. Sean’s right cheek was pressed against my breast and his dick was still inside me. He was as close as he could possibly be but I somehow wanted him closer. I wanted to fucking absorb him into my body, keep him there forever and enjoy the weight of him on me.

“Sean?” I whispered, wondering if he was still awake.

“Hm?”

I ran my fingers lightly over the back of his neck and delighted in his shiver. “I’m really glad you’re not dead.”

He lifted his head then, searching my face for some sort of emotion, but I forced myself to remain stoic. It took Sean fucking my brains out for me to realize how much I missed him. How much I fucking loved him. But I couldn’t tell him that, I couldn’t give him that much power over me.

“Today was the first time in a year that I was thankful that bullet didn’t kill me.” Sean’s words were honest, quiet.

We didn’t say anything after that, we didn’t really need to. In that moment we were safe, together after years of being apart, and now all we had to do was wait for word from my father. Until then, I was going to enjoy whatever time I had with Sean and I prayed I would never have to pretend he was dead again.

[unsettlingconclusions]

Piano Sonata n08

Pairing: Hana Lee x MC (Riley) Summary:  Riley was no expert in classical music but she easily sensed the tempo was increasing erratically, notes were missing and some of them sounded just downright wrong. It was unlike Hana to play carelessly, disregarding rhythm and accuracy. It could only mean one thing, Hana was furious. Set during TRH3. Genre: Hurt/comfort. Angst? Rating: T Word Count: 1600+ Notes: In honor of the CG of Hana crying </3  This was sitting around my filled with spider’s webs AO3 profile. Written while listening to  Mussorgsky's "A Night on Bald Mountain" if anyone is interested in feeling the pure rage. Fic title refers to Beethoven's Piano Sonata no 8, the 1st movement. The last piece mentioned is Hungarian Rhapsody no 02, by Liszt. Riley stands at the threshold of the music room. The heavy sounds of agitated music pierce the air, filling it with something... intense. Yes, intense would be an appropriate way to describe it. The stiffness in her stance, the way Hana's body moved, her tense expression... all of it screamed rage.

Although Riley was no expert in classical music, she easily sensed the tempo was increasing erratically, notes were missing and some of them sounded just downright wrong. It was unlike Hana to play carelessly, disregarding rhythm and accuracy. It could only mean one thing, Hana was furious.

She had to be. A few hours ago, Barthelemy had just walked out the door of their home carrying away their daughter and there was nothing they could do to stop it. It enraged Riley as well, made her blood boil with fury, her skin burn a thousand degrees. She wanted badly to just bolt and take her family with her, go wherever. But she knew this cluster would follow her anywhere. They needed to take Barthelemy down for good.

So she and Hana devised a plan alongside their friends to do so through Godfrey and everyone would leave for Auvernal in the morning. After that was settled, the heaviness of the day they just had started to take its toll and make way for exhaustion. Once Riley and Hana helped their friends settle in for the night, Hana excused herself claiming she was too agitated to go to sleep yet. She might not have said it with words but Riley was perceptive enough to notice Hana meant she needed a moment to herself.

That was something she could understand. Hana had an overall sweet and kind disposition, but that was not to say those were the only emotions she was familiar with. However, her upbringing did not allow her to properly know how to express anything else and she had a tendency to either shut down or deal with it all by herself, often involving quiet, solitary brooding, and an over rationalizing attitude.

Out of respect for her, Riley gave her space. And a few minutes soon turned hours, prompting Riley to go looking out after her wife; she was not about to let the woman she loved dive into misery land. She took a wild guess Hana would either be by the lake or the piano room, and soon enough the sound of a haunting melody pierced through her ears.

Usually, when Riley would find Hana playing, she'd inconspicuously move closer and quietly sit nearby, enjoying the feeling of being let in into something so intimately Hana's. But tonight she was not seeing beauty or contemplation, she wasn't feeling closer to Hana... She was seeing madness, and one that imposed high mountains surrounding her wife.

The hell they had to face ahead of them was brutal, vicious and cruel. This was no time for madness. Madness wouldn't solve the issue, if anything it would make them reckless, and that would mean playing the part Barthelemy expected them to play. No, there could be absolutely no madness!

"Hana", Riley calls out to her once, then twice, to no avail. "Hana!" She calls again, more forcefully this time, but her pleas were still met with no response. "Hana, snap out of it!" Riley nearly screams this time, smashing her own hands against the piano keys, her body trembling with indignation.

"WHAT?" Hana halts abruptly, shooting an angry glare at Riley. “What do you want, Riley? What could you possibly want that I could possibly do right now?” She goes back to playing a little less erratically this time, her eyes focusing on the piano keys, and Riley could feel her still reeling of anger. “I couldn’t protect our daughter, what’s left for me to do?”

“We get her back, Hana. I need you to work with me on this. Fight with me.” Riley replies, awkwardly leaning over the piano trying to block Hana away from the keys.

It’s Hana’s turn to smash her hands against the piano keys now, pushing the bench forcefully back while abruptly getting up. “I’m enraged, Riley, I want his head served to me with his blood. I want to tear it off myself!” She paces back and forth across the length of the piano room, every inch of her body trembling, her hands picking nervously at the sides of her head. “I want to feast on his flesh and throw him to lions!”

Riley steps up, blocking Hana’s path as she grabs both Hana’s wrists with her own hands, trying to calm her wife down at the same time as trying to tame her own anger. “What do you think I want?” She barks, narrowing her eyes and forcing Hana to look at her. “Do you think I’m not pissed off myself? I’m furious, Hana.”

Hana struggles to get out of Riley’s grasp, but Riley wouldn’t budge. “Let go of me, Riley.” Hana says as she continues struggling. “Please.”

“No.”

“Just let me go!”

“No! I won’t leave you, Hana.”

The anger in Hana’s eyes starts to slowly subside as it gives way to frustration and exasperation. After a few more failed attempts at releasing herself, Hana’s whole demeanor changes and what Riley sees instead is even worse. It’s... despondency. Riley lets go of Hana’s wrists and engulfs her in a crushing hug.

“I love you, Hana. We will get her back, ok? I promise you, I promise you we’ll get her back.” Riley says over and over again, instilling hope or whatever she could in her wife. Hana responds by holding onto Riley for dear life, her body shaking as she starts sobbing. The force with which Hana’s fingers is digging into her skin is verging on painful, but Riley endures it. It can’t be more painful than the ache Hana was feeling inside, then what she herself was feeling inside.

“I can’t imagine not raising her, not seeing her every day, not being there for all her milestones, to sooth her when she cries.” Hana rubs one of her hands in her eyes, fighting back her tears and not entirely releasing her hold on her wife. “What are we gonna do without her, Riley? How are we supposed to do this?”

“It’s not going to happen, Hana. We will get her back.”

“She must be so afraid, Riley, so scared. Just thinking about it is driving me insane.”

Riley couldn’t go there. The thought was unbearable. It was bad enough that someone took away their child, but adding in that he was a traitor and a murderer was too much to handle. She couldn’t allow herself to despair thinking of how scared Aurora was. No, she had to fight, and she needed Hana to fight as well. She grabs both Hana’s arms and search for her wife’s eyes. “Hey, look at me.” Hana doesn’t move. “Baby, look at me. Look at me, Hana,” Riley insists.

Hana raises her chin so as to stare into Riley’s eyes, her own moist with all the crying. Riley moves her hands to both Hana’s cheeks, brushing her thumbs just below Hana’s eyes, wiping away the tears and the pain. She holds Hana’s head in place, trying to convey everything she felt with her gaze.

“Do you remember Olivia’s training?” Hana nods affirmatively. “We use our anger in our favor. We let our love for her drive us.” Riley brushes a stray of hair out of Hana’s face and brings their foreheads together. “We are forged in fire! The higher the flames, the greater our strength. We’ll come out of it stronger. We will make Barthelemy regret the day he decided to mess with our family and we will make him pay! For Aurora and for Queen Eleanor, we will bring him to justice!” Riley said, pouring her heart out with every single word that comes out of her mouth.

Several minutes pass in which they stand in silence, taking comfort in each other’s embrace and drinking in each other’s presence. Eventually Hana sighs deeply, shaking her head as if coming out of a haze. “I’m sorry I got a little lost there. It just felt so overwhelming for a moment.”

“It’s ok, love. You’re allowed to be upset. Just let me in and I promise I’ll always be here for you if you need me dragging you back.” Riley said calmly, keeping to herself the relief she felt in seeing a resemblance of the Hana she knew. She can’t say she ever saw Hana so angry before.

“I love you and I love our daughter. I’m ready to fight for our family with you.” Hana tries a shy smile that ends up looking more a grimace than anything else, but at least the sentiment was there.

“There she is, there’s the woman I married.”

Riley reaches out for Hana again, planting a kiss on Hana’s forehead. She then rests her chin on top of Hana’s head while encircling her on a loose hug.

“You know, when all of this is over, I will have someone make me a life-sized piñata with Barthelemy’s face and we’ll have so much fun trashing it to pieces.” Riley offers, her voice the most relaxed it has been for the past minutes. “I’ll make an event out of it, a holiday even! The trashing scumbags festival. What do you think?”

Hana manages a real if weak smile this time. “It has a nice ring to it, although we can work on that name.”

“I’m thinking hiring an orchestra, go on full pomp and circumstance mode. And I know just the piece the orchestra could play, you know that one from the cat concert on Tom and Jerry.”

Hana makes a face, completely lost as to what Riley was talking about.

“You know, the one tada tadadada dada dada...” Riley goes on making weird noises, mimicking the melody of Hungarian Rhapsody n 2 by Liszt. She knows how Hana enjoys when she goes classical.

And true to form, Hana’s smile goes a bit truer now. “I can agree to that.”

“That would make it very solemn, it’ll be the event of the year.” Riley finishes the thought, grinning slightly.

“Thank you, darling. For making me feel better."

Riley places a quick but meaningful kiss on Hana's lips and grabs her hand, leading them towards the door.

“Come on, let’s get some sleep. We’re gonna need our strength tomorrow.”

[everybodyscupoftea]

finally free

ole miss rafe x reader

rafe is tired, you try and help, and eventually the two of you get to drink

two in one day baby (almost?)

(warnings: cursing, drinking, hardly edited)

Rafe had been exhausted lately, cancelling dates to do homework and pulling at least one all-nighter a week. He’d decided to TA his first semester in the program, and while you were happy he got the subject of his choice, you were worried he was running himself too ragged.

It’s not like you had much room to talk, Vet School had been brutal, and the amount of work was what you expected, but weren’t exactly prepared for. A lot of the time you’d spent together starting mid-semester was takeout and homework in one of your apartments.

Your semester came to an end before Rafe’s by two weeks, and you spent the first week catching up on sleep, working out, and making actual home cooked meals for Rafe. You’d been practically living at his apartment, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Babe,” you called one morning, walking out of his room around 10:30.

He was sitting at the dining room table, and looked up at you, glasses perched on the edge of his nose, “What’s up?”

“About to head to the gym, want some breakfast before I go?”

“Had a bagel, thanks though.”

You nodded and kissed his forehead before heading toward the door, “Gonna get some groceries while I’m out and probably Strange Brew. Text me if you decide you want me to pick something up.”

He smiled at you tiredly, and you could see the bags under his eyes from across the room, “Thanks, sweetheart, I think I’m good though. Going to work for a few hours and then take a nap.”

“Please take a nap, you need it. How many days do you have left?”

“Three and then next week is finals. So I’ll have tests and papers to grade. Plus my schoolwork.”

“Are the tests multiple choice?”

“Yeah.”

“I can do those. So you can focus on your own shit and the papers.”

You couldn’t be sure, but it looked like his eyes filled up and the lines on his face softened, “That would be fantastic.”

“Alrighty then, sounds like a plan. I’ll see you in a few, you’d better be asleep when I get back.”

Rafe grinned and sent you a salute, “Yes ma’am.”

-

He had clearly just laid down by the time you got back, and when you walked in, arms full of grocery bags. Laid on the couch, he jolted, eyes snapping open. You winced, “Sorry, babe.”

Putting away the groceries, you went over the couch and knelt down before running your fingers through his hair. He hummed, leaning into your hand, “Not asleep like you told me to, sorry.”

You smiled softly, “S’okay, you almost were, I woke you up.”

“Groceries put away?” he asked suddenly.

“Mhmm.”

Without saying anything else, he lifted the edge of the blanket closest to you, a clear invitation for you to slide in next to him. Huffing out a laugh, you kicked your shoes off and laid down, half on top of Rafe.

Rafe wrapped a leg and both arms around you, adjusting the blanket until he was happy, and then promptly fell asleep. You smiled and rested your forehead on his collarbone, content to lay in silence with him for a little while.

It couldn’t have been more than two hours before an alarm on his phone under the throw pillow started going off, startling you out of the half asleep state you’d fallen into and waking him up completely.

“Fuck,” he slurred, “don’t wanna get up.”

“Sleep more,” you told him, voice just as quiet.

“Can’t. Got a paper on the Black Plague due in a few days, don’t have enough sources yet.”

“Baby,” you muttered, “you’re running yourself ragged. If you don’t sleep your paper won’t be good anyway.”

Rafe shut his eyes tightly, “I know. But I just can’t.”

“Is there something I can do for you.”

“I-” he paused, one hand coming up to rub his eyes, “you aren’t my mom, I hope you know I really don’t see you that way. I don’t want to treat you like that, you need to know that you’re my equal and that you don’t have to take care of me, that I’m capable of it.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I know. Where’s this coming from?”

“Can you,” Rafe sighed, clenching his eyes shut for a second, “would you mind taking care of my laundry? It’s been a few weeks and I’m almost out of underwear.”

“Yeah, of course. I need to do mine too.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I did offer.”

“Yeah, but I’ve seen my friends act like children, treat their girlfriend like a glorified mother. I don’t want to be like that.”

“You aren’t,” you reassured, “I promise.”

He smiled wryly, “Let me know if I am, yeah?”

“I will, don’t worry.”

-

A week later found you and Rafe sitting on the floor, side by side, backs leaning against the couch. He had a key spread out between the two of you, and you had a stack of exams handed in by two sections of the class. He had an even thicker stack of essays in one hand, and a blue pen in the other. 

“Why blue?” you asked, twirling your own black pen in your fingers.

“Hmm?” he mumbled, looking over at you.

“Blue pen instead of black or red, why?” you asked again.

“Oh,” he smirked, “Ole Miss blue.”

“You,” your jaw dropped, “I hate you.”

“You so don’t. I’d even go as far to say you love me.”

“You know I do, please don’t act slick. You’re an MSU student now.”

“Uh huh, only two years compared to five at Ole Miss.”

“Grade your essays, I don’t want to talk to you,” you huffed, faking annoyance, and turned up the quiet music playing through the speaker.

He dropped his head back against the couch and whined, “These papers are so bad though. Like they barely even tried.”

“I’m sure they did, babe, but you’re used to graduate level writing now.”

“No,” he shoved one in your face, a strand of hair falling over his furrowed brow, “read this.”

Grabbing his wrist, you pulled it a few inches from your face to read. He stared at you as you scanned, and made a triumphant noise when you squinted,

“There are a few mistakes,” you mumbled.

“Generous,” he added, sounding smug.

“Don’t make fun of kids, they’re barely 18.”

“They’re assholes,” he corrected you, “like I knew it was a mostly freshman class, but goddamn. I hope I wasn’t this annoying back then.”

“You probably were. I mean, you were barely tolerable when you and I met.”

“No, I was relatively mature, I just didn’t know how to express emotion in a normal way.”

You put a hand on his shoulder and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, “You’ve come a long way.”

Rafe’s cheeks went a little red, and you cooed at him. He pushed your face away from his and muttered, “Grade the exams. You’re a menace.”

-

“Hey, sweetheart,” Rafe asked three nights before his last exam.

“Mhmm?” you answered, half asleep.

“Do we have Christmas plans this year?”

“Don’t think so, why?”

“I wasn’t sure if we were going to your parents’ house.”

“Haven’t talked to my mom in a while,” you frowned, “you think I should call her?”

“Up to you.”

“No, you’re part of this decision too. I know you’re exhausted, so if you don’t want to travel, we won’t.”

He frowned, “You can still go.”

“And leave you alone on Christmas?” He shrugged, not meeting your eye, and you pushed yourself up, staring down at him, “Rafe, you know I wouldn’t, right?”

“I mean, we’ve only been together for a year,” he mumbled.

“Not quite yet,” you corrected, absentmindedly, “but still, you’re important to me.”

“Well, in that case, call your mom, we’ll make the trip.”

“Are you sure? Why don’t you take a few days to think it over. I know you’ve never met them in person before. Doing it on a holiday would be a bit overwhelming.”

He laughed, “Yeah, I guess it would.”

“Sleep now, get back to me.”

“Fine.”

-

The afternoon of Rafe’s last final, you walked into his apartment to hear Christmas music blasting. Your boyfriend was sprawled out on the couch surrounded by beer bottles, and he gave you a lazy wave, “Sup, mamas.”

“Hey, Rafe. How’d the test go?”

“Excellent. Now I’m celebrating.”

“I see that.”

“It’s Christmas season now.”

“Now, huh?”

“Well the tree has been decorated for two weeks now, so I could argue that your logic is flawed.”

“No no,” he held his hand up, “it’s only Christmas now that I can focus on it.”

“You given any thought to Christmas plans?” you asked.

Rafe sat up suddenly, “Yes,” he pointed at you, “what if we FaceTime your parents instead of making the long ass drive.”

“Fine with me. I talked to my mom the other day and she told us that she’d put our presents in the mail anyway. They expected this.”

He frowned, “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Great, sounds great.”

“Great,” you joked in response. 

Rafe rolled his eyes and shoved your shoulder, “Drink with me.”

“I will. Picked some stuff up this afternoon for spiked eggnog, by the way.”

“Oh fuck yes. Homemade eggnog?”

“Of course.”

He followed you to the kitchen, so close he was almost tripping over your heels, and you huffed, coming to a stop. Rafe ran into your back before stepping back, a sheepish grin on his face, “Sorry.”

“Can I trust you to help me or are you too gone right now?”

“I can help,” he nodded, doing his best to look sober.

“Fine, you’ll stir, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He stood by the stove, wooden spoon in hand, feet spread further than shoulder width apart, dropping down to your height. You measured out the milk and cream and turned the heat up, giving him a weird look, “Why are you standing like that?”

“You were humming that song that’s like do you see what I see and I don’t, so I was curious.”

“It’s a song? You don’t have to take it literally.”

“Hmm, braincells gone. Everything is literal unless specified.”

You snorted, “Stir, dumbass,” before starting to separate the egg whites from the yolks. Keeping an eye on him, you started to whisk the egg yolks, pausing to help him add in the sugar, vanilla and nutmeg when the milk started bubbling.

“Smells good,” he told you, sniffing the mixture.

“It does. You ready to whisk it in?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Rafe very carefully poured and you whisked before pouring it back into the saucepan.

“You got a thermometer?” you asked him, flipping the heat back on.

He pulled open a drawer and brandished one eagerly, clearly proud of himself for being prepared, “Fuck yeah I do.”

“Put it in, tell me when it hits 160.”

Rafe stared, eyebrows furrowed, fully focused on the number. When he told you, you flipped the heat off again and poured in the rum and brandy. Making it a bit stronger than you normally would.

“Bro,” he said, taking a spoonful, “this is incredible.”

“Thanks, bro,” you answered, bumping your hip into his.

“Oh, hip check,” he bumped back, twice as hard, knocking you off balance.

“Rafe,” you glared, stepping away to pour two glasses, “don’t make me spill or you can make another batch on your own.”

“No,” he pouted, “I could never.”

“You couldn’t, no.”

You watched, appalled, as Rafe chugged his first glass, slamming it down and wiping his mouth with the back of his other hand.

“Shit’s good,” he told you earnestly.

“We’re not at a bar, Rafe. Take it easy.”

“Nope, blackout remember?”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, rubbing a hand over your forehead, “pour yourself another I guess.”

Rafe leaned in for a kiss, missing your mouth and landing on your chin, but it was like he didn’t even realize before he was moving around you back to the pitcher you’d poured it in.

It didn’t take many more cups for Rafe to be totally gone, curled up with you on the couch while the live action Grinch played in the background, eyes fluttering shut every few seconds.

“Tired?” you finally whispered, when you were pretty sure there was drool on your shirt.

“Huh?” he asked, blinking rapidly, “No.”

“Sure,” you responded, amused, “let’s go get ready for bed, huh?”

You put the empty cups in the dishwasher before guiding Rafe to the bathroom to make him brush his teeth and get undressed. 

“Tryna get me naked?” he asked, swaying in place as he pushed his shirt over his head lazily.

“Yeah,” you answered, rubbing moisturizer in.

Rafe followed you to bed, falling in after you, mostly on top of you, knocking the breath out of your chest.

“Jesus, Cameron,” you wheezed.

“Rafe is fine,” he mumbled into your neck, and was out like a light a few seconds later.

You sighed, squirming under him to try and get comfortable before falling asleep yourself.

~

day 7 of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: spiked eggnog or cider

[miss-dr-reid]

Another Gubler Story... #3

Not too long later, we were on our way. The radio playing softly, provided background noise for our conversations. We spoke about our days of work, and I filled him in about how brutal customers can be sometimes.

"I'm sorry you had a bad day at work." he pouted, tapping his hand on my thigh before resting his elbow ion the center console, continuing to drive with one hand.

"It's okay! George brought doughnuts and then you called, and now here we are!" I cheered.

"Is George your secret boyfriend?" Matthew joked, bumping me with his hand, a smile across his lips.

And while, I wanted to answer, I knew there was no point, instead changing the subject. We ended up talking about old friends, family and childhood memories. Matthew was so easy to talk to. He was always listening to every word I spoke.

We finally arrived, pulling into the car park of a park/playground. and Matthew selected a park closer to the playground. I reached for my door handle, but Matthew's hand on my shoulder caught my attention. I looked over at him, and he shook his head at me, climbing out and opening the back door. He pulled out something, it looked like a picnic basket, stood back and closed both doors. He made his way around to my door, opening for it and standing back allowing me to get out.

Shutting the door and linking his arm with mine, we made our way over to an open area of grass where Matthew unlinked our arms. he put the basket on the ground, opening it and pulling out a blanket, spreading it over the ground. He sat down on the blanket, bringing the basket onto the end of it and looked up at me.

His eyes glistened behind his glasses which were lit up by some light posts surrounding the playground. The Spring breeze was soft, fresh and fragrant, blowing the loose curls of Matthew's hair. I took Matthew's hand as he held it out to me, helping me to the ground. The blanket was cool from the slowly dampening ground. The sun was almost setting, oranges and purples filling the sky. I sat down on a lean, sitting almost on my hip, facing Matthew who mirrored me.

He leaned over to the basket, where he pulled out a bottle of bubbly white and two glasses. Placing the glasses between us, he opened the bottle and poured some wine in each glass. He put the lid back on the bottle, laying it on the ground against the basket.

"To new beginnings and fun risks!" He toasted, lifting his glass up in the air. I returned the gesture, clinking our glasses together.

We each took sips of our drinks before placing them down onto the blanket in front of us. He went back for the basket, shifting himself into his knees. He pulled out a loaf of bread, setting it next to the bottle of wine. He then started pulling out small containers, placing them around the loaf of bread.

I sat up fully, curious to see what he was doing. I lifted one container, inspecting it to see what was inside, surprised to find sliced tomato. He continued to pull out a few other small containers and finally a plastic packet, which he handed to me seeing how intrigued I had become. A packet of sliced ham is what he gave me. I put it all together, seeing all the ingredients laid out and figured we'd be making our own sandwiches.

"I didn't know what you liked, so, I picked something that you could make your own!" Matthew said, finally sitting back, gesturing over the spread. He handed me a plastic plate, holding onto when I tried to take it. I looked up into his eyes, wondering why he didn't let go. He smiled at me softly as his eyes wandered my face before finally letting go.

"Help yourself and let me know if there's anything missing." He pointed to the food.

"Thank you, Matthew." I grinned before turning to the food. I laid my plate down, reaching for the bread, my eyes scanning over the now open containers, seeing what options I had.

On one slice of bread, I layered, ham, cucumber, lettuce, tomato and finally another slice of ham before another slice of bread.

I sat back, allowing Matthew to make his own. I watched him make his sandwich as I had felt him doing to me. He glanced back a few times, at my sandwich before adding another topping. I noted that he was copying the layers of my sandwich.

"Why?" I asked, cocking my head to the side slightly.

"Why what? Why the same layers? You looked like you knew what you were doing. I trust you." He said, answering his own question. The reply took me by surprise as he added the last slice of bread. He lifted his plate and sat back, facing me with his legs crossed. I laughed as he sat his plate in my lap, copying me.

I picked up my sandwich, securing the back of it. I took a big bite, bigger than I had intended, the smell of the salads caused me to realise how hungry I actually was. I hummed a moan at the flavour, and Matthew did, too. I could tell that he was genuinely enjoying the sandwich, and not just copying me anymore, the expression on his face as his eyes rolled back were all tell tale signs. We sat there, not saying a word, only eating our sandwiches. Small moans and the occasional sounds of chewing filling the air between us.

The sun setting, caused the whole scene to become even more romantic as the moon gently lit up our figures and glistened on the dewy ground. We both finished eating and Matthew collected our plates, stacking them to the side as he packed up the containers, putting them away into the basket, setting the stacked plates on top. He took my now empty glass and set it next to the wine bottle along with his own. He turned around, looking at me and stood up.

"Come." the word simple, effective, but gentle. His hands were pointed out toward me and I took them. My own hands becoming nearly entirely enveloped inside his.

His arms draped over my shoulders, his hands resting on my lower back, pulling me flush against him. My head resting on his chest, his heart beating in my ear. My own arms wrapped around his waist, my hands reaching as far around to the opposite sides as possible. I felt his chin rest on my head for a moment. He lifted his chine off, replacing it with a kiss, his heartbeat in my ear speeding up as he did so. I gave him a squeeze in response, the smile on my face growing bigger.

His arms lifted from me, his hands grabbing my shoulders as he pulled me back slightly. I looked up into his eyes, his glasses has fallen down slightly so I pushed them back up, allowing my fingers to trail gently over his lips and jaw before returning it back to it's spot around his waist. We stood there in silence for a moment, staring into each others eyes, smiling at each other.

Matthew finally pulled away, the warmth of hi body being replace by the cool night air and goosebumps formed over my skin. He had caught one of my hands in the midst of pulling away, leading me over to the playground. We walked to the swing set, where he released my hand and sat on one of the swings, an empty one next to him. I followed his actions, sitting on the free one, seeing how happy he was, swinging with anticipation.

We both started swinging, keeping in time for a bit until Matthew decided to go higher. I took that as a challenge, and tried to go even higher. Eventually, we were both swinging so high, the chains slacked as we reached our peak height before we were caught with a jolt at the bottom. We were both laughing from just how silly we were being, and soon I started to slow myself. I stopped swinging my legs and soon the swing calmed. I jumped off the swing, landing in on the barks chunks with a small 'crunch', I posed while saying "Ta-Da!".

I turned around to look at Matthew, who was mid-air jumping from his own swing. I started clapping, doing small jumps in excitement. My eyes closed for a brief moment, Matthew taking this opportunity to run to me. His footsteps quick, reaching me before I knew what was going on. My heart leapt from my chest as I was lifted into the air, holding on for dear life for a moment, my eyes squeezed shut, until Matthew said,

"You're beautiful." The words took me by surprise. I looked down at him from my place in his arms, the biggest goofiest smile on his lips.

"You are!" I replied, booping his nose with me own, pulling back to look at him. My face turned hot from the feelings rushing around inside me, butterflies in my stomach.

We were caught in that moment, staring into each others eyes. I couldn't help it when my eyes wandered onto his lips, my face being drawn towards his. Matthew had been glancing at my lips, too, licking his own lips once before his own face was drifting forward. With one final look at each other's lips we-

*FLASH*

We snapped away from each other, looking in the direction the flash had come from. Soon, there was another and Matthew put me down, telling me to stay put. He headed in the direction of the small group of trees where the flash had come from. The person who was hiding there ran off before Matthew had the chance to say anything and he headed back to me.

Reaching me, he cupped my face in his hands, looking deep into my eyes,

"Let's get out of here." was all he said. The words simple, but effective and we headed back to the picnic.

We packed up the rest of the picnic and I folded the blanket as neatly as possible. Matthew carried the basket and we walked to the car. We got in, throwing the stuff we were carrying into the back. The car started and Matthew drove out of the carpark without saying a word.

"Where are we going?" I asked him, breaking the silence.

"To my place." he said, and kept driving, his eyes on the road.

<3

[obxcunt]

Love bites || (1)

pairing: jj maybank x reader [eventually] || rafe cameron x reader [currently]

warnings: smut, death, cursing, drugs, alcohol, typos.

summary: it was supposed to be a good summer for you, the last one in the obx before going to college, the last one with your friends and family. Unfortunately, a sudden and mysterious death is about to completely change your life, pushing you directly into a brand new world and into a very sexy vampire’s arms.

A/N: i’ve been obsessed with vampires for a while, also started rewatching buffy recently. I really wanted to give you guys some vampire shit since i was in the mood for it. This is part one of my new series, let me know what you think, all characters are 18+.

masterlist || part two

“Today, we are still looking for the animal who brutally killed a teenage boy on Friday night, around midnight. The police department is asking our citizens to be extremely vigilant. A curfew might be installed for the next few days, until the end of the police’s researches—"

“Jesus…” Your mother murmured, turning off the tv. “This is scary, how are we supposed to feel safe right now?” You sighed, looking at the delicious meal in front of you, your fork wandering through it. “This thing, could be anywhere—” She paused. “Well, probably not on Figure Eight. I feel so bad for this family, maybe we should do something for them—”

“Like, what?” Your father asked, frowning. “Are you going to make them a cake with: I’m genuinely sorry about your son’s death?” He grabbed the wine, again. “Leave them alone, we already have someone to handle here.”

You rolled your eyes, taking the hint. “Alright, can you guys stop doing this?” You asked, dropping your utensils, the sounds making your mother jump. “I’m literally sitting next to you.” You father sighed, drinking and looking away. “I’m fine.”

“Well, you won't leave this goddamn house until they catched that thing.” Your father stated. “It's too dangerous.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, what?” You laughed nervously, glancing back and forth between your parents. “You can't be serious! I— I’m not gonna stay here all summer. I have plans, with my friends and—” You turned to your mother, seeking support. “Mom, please!”

She sighed, looking down. “It's only for the nights, sweetheart.” You father groaned, focusing on his meal. “Come on, it's her last summer before going to college.”

“But, wait!” You said, realization hitting you. “I won't be able to party with my friends then—” You father laughed, pointing at you with the knife he had in hand. “That's not fair—”

“That's right, no more parties for you.” He said. “I’d love to know what you were doing on The Cut, the other night. Since when is my daughter hanging out with Pogues?” You sighed, throwing the napkin before leaving the table.“Where do you think you're going?”

“In my room!” You shouted, walking towards the door. “Is it good enough for you? It's on Figure Eight, after all.” You turned around, crossing your arms. “I’m old enough to choose my friends, aren't you tired of judging them?” He rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed. “I wasn't even hanging out with Pogues on Friday night. I was with Rafe, Topper and… Kelce.”

“Right.” He said, wiping his mouth. “Then tell me, what were you doing? If you were hanging out with them, how did you not see—”

“I already told you!” You shouted, losing your composure. “I was with Rafe, we were walking back to his car, we both wanted to leave.” Your mother sighed, drinking. “Whatever, you guys never believe me anyway.”

“Y/N…” Your mother trailed off.

“Probably because you're constantly lying and hiding things!” Your father added, and at this point you knew it was better for you to leave the room.

“I learned from the master himself.” You said, before exiting the kitchen, ignoring him. “Cheating asshole...” You murmured on your way to your bedroom.

It’s true, you were supposedly going to leave with Rafe that night, when you both left the boneyard. However, as soon as you both entered the truck: you magically ended up riding the Kook boy, under the influence.

“Shit-” He moaned, his hands slightly bruising your hips as you bounced on his dick, holding on his shoulders for dear life. “Fuck, Rafe!” You cried, bare chest pressed against his, moaning close to his ear: the sound driving him crazy. His hands moved, caressing your body, his eyes shutting down in a soft whine. You moaned loudly, head falling backwards, giving him enough space to kiss your chest. “Fuck— You feel so good, Y/N.” He said, pounding into you harder, the movement making you fall on him again. You smiled against his neck, ready to answer him before hearing a scream, the sound ruining the moment. “Wait, wait, wait—” You said, panic taking over you. You moved, your back hitting the steering wheel, making Rafe laugh. “What's wrong, Y/N?” He asked, the both of you panting as your hands moved along his toned chest. “You heard that, right?” You asked, the moonlight barely lighting his features through the fogged windows. “Well, of course.” He said, smirking. “I think everyone heard you.” You sighed, smacking his sweaty skin. “I’m serious, Rafe! Someone bloody screamed outside.” He nodded, kissing your forehead. “Relax, baby. It's probably just people messing around.” You weren't convinced by that. “Hey, i’m gonna check, okay?” He said, feeling bad as soon as you started biting your nails. You nodded, moving back to the passenger seat, putting your clothes on. “I’m coming with you.” You opened the door, quickly running to him. “I don't think it's a good—” You held his hand, shutting him off. You both walked around the deserted place, approaching the woods, searching through the darkness, the cold air and a bunch of noises giving you goosebumps. “Wait, what's that?” Rafe asked, stopping along the way to the beach, noticing a body laying on the ground. “Rafe—” You felt your heartbeat increasing, letting go of his hand. “Stay behind me, Y/N.” He said, swallowing hard and approaching it. “Holy shit.” You murmured, covering your mouth as tears emerged from the corner of your eyes, recognizing Kelce’s face, strange marks covering his neck. “Call the cops, Y/N.” Rafe murmured, panic slowly invading him as well. “Go back to the fucking car and call someone, Y/N!” He shouted, kneeling down next to his friend’s body. You walked backwards, almost tripping over something before running back to his truck. You opened the door in a rush, searching for a cellphone. “Shit—” You murmured, shaking as you composed the number. “911, what's your emergency?” A woman asked. “I— My name is Y/N/ L/N, we need an ambulance or the cops, anyone—” You paused, breathless. “Okay, slow down, can you explain to me, what's going on?” “We found a dead body, on our way to the beach, it's our friend—” You suddenly paused, hearing a noise behind you, the sound making you turn around in a silent scream, your eyes scanning the environment in panic, heart pounding against your chest. “Ma'am, are you okay? Can you hear me?” The woman asked, still waiting on the phone. “Shit, I—” You breathed in and out, trying to contain the urge to cry. “We need help, right now, please!”

You turned on the lights, entering your bedroom and closing the door behind you, laying against it in a sigh. You looked over the window, familiar sounds catching your attention: a few knocks, followed by whispers. You moved towards it, a bit anxious as you pulled up the curtains: relaxing as soon as you recognized Rafe’s face.

“What are you doing here, Rafe?” You asked, opening the window and watching the tall boy coming inside. “I’m pretty sure we still have a front door.” You added, closing it.

“You're not answering my calls or texts—” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “I was worried.”

“I’m really sorry, Rafe.” You simply replied. “I— I wasn't in the mood to talk. Things have been pretty crazy lately, especially since—” You sighed, crossing your arms. “Kelce's death and the funeral.”

“I missed you, a lot.” He admitted, surprising you. “I know we are not dating or anything but—” You looked down for a second, a bit embarrassed. “We are still friends, right? I missed my friend.” He cleared his throat, fleeing your gaze. “Anyway, we are having lunch at my house tomorrow, everyone is going to be there. It's for Kelce, do you—”

“I’ll come, of course.” You cut him off, giving him a tiny smile.

“Promise me to be careful, out there.” He said, hands cupping your cheeks. “I already lost one of my best friends.” He tried to kiss you, craving your softness but you moved, making this awkward. “Wow, okay...” He said, laughing nervously.

“Fuck, Rafe—” You sighed, rubbing your face. “I— I can't do this right now. It's too much. My parents are on my back constantly, you probably should leave before they—”

“Your parents love me, Y/N!” He said, sighing as you refused to match his enthusiasm. “Okay, it's fine. I can’t stay any longer, Topper is parked in the street, waiting for me. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“That's very sweet.” You said, pushing up on your toes and kissing his cheek, the action making him blush right away. “Be careful, alright? Stay on Figure Eight, it's safer apparently.” He nodded, opening the window himself.

You watched him leave, closing the window behind him as he walked back to Topper’s jeep. Once they were gone, you looked down, noticing a silhouette standing in front of your house, the darkness hiding his identity.

“What the fuck—” You murmured, turning off the lights and shutting down the curtains. A few seconds later, you lifted the curtains a bit, (curiousty teasing you) searching for the stranger’s presence but there was nothing: they were gone.

———————————————————————

A/N: I’m so excited about this series, comment if you want to be add to the tag-list! I’ll post the next part this week!

[guardianofrivendell]

Guarding Your Heart - Chapter 2 {TEASER}

Summary: Lucy is a smart, independent woman who’s getting dragged into her father’s past against her will. Fíli, who is working for the family’s security agency, receives his next assignment: guarding Lucy. On one side someone who doesn’t want to be a ‘babysitter’ and on the other side someone who will do anything to get rid of her ‘bodyguard’, you know this will turn into chaos. Interesting chaos, but still chaos. Until things start to get serious and they have to work together to stay alive.

Chapter 2 moodboard by @laurfilijames

Chapter 2 will be there this Friday, 5 pm CET! 

We’ll try to work towards weekly updates but since we’re both adults with our own families and jobs, don’t shoot us if we can’t keep up with that schedule.

Thank you to everyone who commented and reblogged on chapter 1, we’re excited to take you all with us on Lucy and Fíli’s adventure! 

Every chapter will be preceded by a teaser posted on Wednesdays.

If you missed chapter 1, you can read it here.

If you don’t want to miss any updates, you can ask to be added to the series taglist!

GUARDING YOUR HEART MASTERLIST

Teaser below the ‘read more’ cut

Warnings: mentions of drinking and abduction. Trigger warning for abduction! Please do not read if this is in any way triggering for you!

Jars clinked together in the refrigerator door as she whipped it open, reaching for a perfectly chilled bottle of champagne.

Lucy stood on her tiptoes to reach a flute, and slammed the glass down on the counter a little harder than she intended, but it thankfully didn’t break.

With a ‘pop’ the cork was freed from the bottle, leaving whispers of fizzy smoke trailing in the air. Her hands trembled again as she poured it carefully into the glass, not wanting to give away her nerves to Fíli who was now leaning on the doorframe and watching her like a hawk. 

“I don’t know if this is an appropriate time for bubbles,” he said, his voice full of judgement. “It’s not even noon yet.”

Lucy spun to face him and placed the rim of the glass to her lips, staring him down fiercely as she emptied its contents in one go, not stopping despite the burning sensation it created down her throat. 

All she could think about was how much she wanted him gone.

“Maybe I’m mourning the death of what used to be my life!” 

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” Fili smirked, biting the side of his bottom lip. “People are simply trying to keep you alive and the only thing you can worry about is your running schedule.”

Lucy slammed her glass on the counter again and braced both arms against the edge to fake some courage. 

“It’s not just my running schedule! It’s everything! My studies, my future career, my boyfriend! All turned upside down and tossed to the side because of my father, who I haven’t seen or heard of for the past seven years by the way. So forgive me for being a little bitter.” 

She refilled her glass, the first one was not enough to take the edge off the terrible way she was feeling. Lucy could see Fili shaking his head from side to side in her periphery and she nearly lost it when she heard him chuckle. 

“You’re getting a kick out of this aren’t you? You’re watching my life crumble apart before me and I bet you find it incredibly entertaining!” 

“Oh don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. I’m equally as offended and inconvenienced by this whole thing as you are.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ceiling, not liking where this conversation was headed. 

“You can leave at any time!” she snapped, pointing her finger at him. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself!”

“Would you like to try?” he challenged her, raising his eyebrow in question. 

“Try what?”

“Looking after yourself. Should we see what happens?” 

“This entire thing is being blown out of proportion! Nothing is going to happen! Nothing ever happens!” 

He took a few steps towards Lucy until his face was only inches away from hers. If he wanted her to cooperate, he needed to be brutally honest with her. She’d probably hate him after this, but she could use the wake up call.

He took the champagne glass out of her hand and placed it back on the counter, not breaking eye contact.

“Really? So the chances of someone breaking into your house in the middle of the night is, what? One in a million?” he started. “Someone gagging you and tying you up, then tossing you in the back of a vehicle and driving you somewhere, anywhere, where no one is able to find you, not even me? Them doing  unspeakable things to your mind, your body, ...You really think that could never happen in your privileged little life? Think again, sweetheart. Your dad messed around with some nasty people and they will not hesitate to use you to get what they want.” 

He watched as fear spread across her features, and he knew he’d done his job in scaring her. The furrow of her brows relaxed slightly with every description he made of what would most likely happen to her if he wasn’t there to protect her. 

“God, you’re a prick!” her voice shook slightly and she bumped his shoulder harshly when she stormed out of the kitchen to the living room. 

- Full Chapter 2 will be there this Friday, 5 pm CET! - 

Guarding Your Heart taglist: @cassiabaggins @enchantzz @the-poldarkian​ @linasofia​ @magravenwrites​ @classyhorseeclipseduck​ @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse​ @fizzyxcustard​ @elvish-sky​ @anjhope1​ @justfollowtheroad​

[rubixfox-fanblog]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: General audience

Fandom: Apex Legends

Characters: Seer, Octane and Mirage. (and other legends.)

Additional tags: Seer Out of character

Words: 2864

Summary: Octane accidentally revives Seer with stim, instead of the regular syringes they normally use, and Mirage has to deal with both of them.

Notes: finally managed to finished my fanfic and gathered the courage to post it.... Enjoy!

Tumblr note: I got my inspiration from @sweetsoftandscared. You should definitely check them out!

"This is one of the worst ideas you had since the start of this match, Silva."

"Come on Amigo, that entire sneaky stuff got me bored. Even perfect boy here almost fell asleep. We all need some action."

"Speak for yourself, I was having the time of my life!"

~~~

Seer, Octane and Mirage ended up together as a squad in the dropship. Heaven knows why. It's a squad based on the amount of disaster, instead of skill, these three would bring. Especially octane and Seer, those two definitely had a history together. But no one knows (yet) why, Well Rampart definitely knew but she wouldn't tell anyone about them.

Their battle location this time was in Olympus and their dropship flew in at the Bonsai Plasa. Seer was the one who took the lead as jumpmaster and made sure he landed at the Oasis. Everyone else already jumped earlier or later so they got all of the world to loot or observe the area.

That's where it all went wrong.

After a few minutes of gathering guns and supplies, Octane got bored (like always.) and decided to take his own lead, running off to the place where small houses gathered, the place called estates.

Seer tried to stop him, because he noticed the heartbeats of at least 3 other legends. But Octane being octane, he didn't listen at all. Throwing his jump pad in front of the other two legends, who were chasing him, launching them both,unexpectedly, in the middle of a heated battle.

Two squads

Two whole squads.... Well basically one and a half, since there was only one of the three left. So that makes one and a third. I wait, one squad. (they downed the last one while they landed)

The three legends of the remaining squad seemed to be Revenant, Wraith and Loba. Who Already noticed them as they landed on top of the middle building.

~~~

"How about you two just quit whining and just go for it already, if we keep standing still we'll be dead in no time!" Octane responded as he bounces up and down.

A deep, disappointed, sigh escaped Seer's mouth as he pulled out his gun.

"I stay here. Mirage, create distraction but watch out for Revenant. Octane, do what you want." Seer didn't seem to try to give Octane instructions, he just let him wreck havoc so he could focus on his enemy's in front of him.

As they both took off and followed orders, Seer released his tactical called: focus of attention. The micro stones formed a tunnel straight into the building in front of him, revealing two of the three enemies they're about to fight.

Wait, two?

His slight distraction caused his downfall as he didn't notice that Loba used her jump drive. Her bracelet flew straight above his head and ended up behind him.

"I'm sorry, my love. But I really need to win this match. That tin Demon out there promised me that I could kick off his head if we win." Loba said and the moment Seer tried to turn around she already shot him a few times in the chest.

But Loba's action didn't go unnoticed because as soon as she downed Seer, she received a few bullets as well from Mirage, standing on top of the roof from the other building Seer focused his attention on.

"You're welcome." Mirage yelled.

"I downed Wraith, she was too slow for me to escape." Octane cackled as he returned from god knows where.

Revenant was the only one left.

Seer made his way down towards the ground, hoping Mirage would pick him up but at that very moment, Revenant's Tactical landed exactly where Seer ended up, underneath the stacked buildings.

Also Mirage apparently got hit as they heard the cracking sound.

"You gotta help him, Octane. I'll cause a distraction.". irage announced. He didn't get hit by the tactical bomb yet so his abilities still worked. Making sure Revenant would focus on him and his 7 other decoys.

Octane didn't hesitate and quickly grabbed one of his revive needles and stabbed directly into Seer's chest.

Wait a second.

Why did that needle say Simulacrum? Did he accidentally swapped the needles this morning? Was that the reason why Lifeline said he looked Healthier than before? So many questions, such a little time.

"I could use a little help here!" Mirage cried out, who's struggling not to get hit by Revenant's Longbow. Who's hiding in one of the houses behind them.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm com....."

Boom

A clean shot between the eyes ending Revenant's life in an instant.

"What in the name of..."

Did another squad that joined the fight? No, nobody was there except the three of them.

"What's wrong?" Seer said, holding a 301 assault rifle in his right hand, without a scope nonetheless while his left hand still got a hold of one of Octane's hands, pulling the downed man back on his feet.

"Did you just shoot him?" Mirage said.

"Why, yes. You needed some help right? So I provided that help."

Octane tried to pry Seer's hand open, but the taller man was holding it fiercely for somehow no reason.

"Amigo, please, let go of my hand. I don't think Che would be happy if I lost my hand as well. " He said, not paying attention to the kill at all.

Seer spaced out for a few seconds, staring directly at Mirage. Poor Eliot started to back up in response as he felt really uncomfortable right now.

Until he suddenly snapped back to reality and pulled away from Octane's hand. Then he decided to turn around and just started to run?

"The next ring is not far." Seer started. "Come, let's go."

Octane caressed his hand like it's been stuck in a bear trap and raised an eyebrow, underneath his goggles of course, as he watched his teammate run forward. Did the stim give him super sight? Or did it give him super focus? Whatever it was, Octane became jealous.

"What did you do?" Mirage suddenly asked , like he could see Octane's expression under his mask. "There's no way a normal human being could hit someone at that distance."

"I guess it's just luck, Amigo. Something you could use as well." Octavio clearly avoided the question. "Like he said, The ring's coming, try to keep up as well, 'kay?" He said and the another jump pad to catch up with Seer

"Wait, what?" Mirage said confused as he turned around and noticed the red wall of death coming up to him very quickly.

"Don't go without me!"

They finally managed to catch up with Seer, who stopped moving for a second, close at the Hammond labs. He rubbed his temple as he looked at Octane.

"You used the wrong syringe, did you now?" He suddenly said.

"Are you alright, Amigo?"

Seer didn't hesitate for a second and pointed his R301 directly at Mirage, who ducked away in an instant, just to shoot a legend who sneaked up behind him.

"I'm fine, totally. Nothing wrong with me at all." he quickly added and refused to continue at what he just asked. He didn't have the concentration at all to be mad at Octane right now.

"Dude! Watch out where you point that thing!" Mirage said, almost screaming as he panicked. "don't ever do that..."

Seer pushed his index fingers to his lips as an indication for Mirage to shut up.

"The two remaining legends are still on the other side of the wall. I'm going in." The taller Brown man didn't even wait for one then to make the first move, he just took off.... Again.

"phew." Octane let out a relieved sigh. Ignoring Mirage, who clearly looked at him like he saw water burning. "Let's go, we can't let him die alone."

By the time they catch up again, Seer was kneeling down by one the deathboxes, looting some ammo. Two innocent legends, slaughtered brutally by the new guy on drugs. Sounds like headline for the Outlands newspaper

"How even.... We weren't even gone for at least 5 minutes." Mirage said. "Octane, what did you do?"

"It was an accident, Amigo. Are you happy now? Lifeline and I had a drink together yesterday, probably one too much. I accidentally swapped the syringes this morning cause I couldn't think right." He finally confessed because he couldn't handle Mirage's annoying attitude anymore.

"Are there any side effects?"

"depends, want to hear the bad or the worst once?"

"The good once please"

"Side effects aren't really good at all, Compadre. It'll wear off after a while. Probably gonna take a few days but the most common side effect is not being able to sleep or concentrate, cause you know,.. It makes you feel energetic." Octane looked at Seer who's been looking at them both for a while now, moving his fingers rapidly up and down.

-The poor guy won't be able to sleep for the upcoming days.- Octane wanted to say, but he didn't because he knew Mirage probably wouldn't be able to stop talking if he had an antidote for the poison Octane pumped in the always so calm and concentrated Seer.

"Are you both good? There are 10 squad left. Let's go." Seer couldn't even think right at this very moment as the

stim probably reached its peak at this point.

"c'mon, we need to go. Before it wears off, better take the advance now we still can." Octane said.

"Does that mean I can get a kill too?"

"If you're fast enough, Amigo!" Octane said and took the lead this time. Mirage sighed, if only he was as fast as them. His legs were making him tired, trying to keep up with those two junkies.

-This feels wrong.- That's all Mirage could think of right now.

The ring chased them all the way back to the rift. The third round had been announced and the timer went down rapidly, close to round 4. On their way to the ring they took another squad down, but none of them seemed to be the kill leader. Somehow....

Seer got the most kills, logical right? He took down thirteen people. Octane got second place with 8 and mirage.... Yeah, he didn't even bother trying to keep up with those two anymore. He didn't even take the Stim, but he was already worn out mainly because of the constant sprinting. He even burned his butt on the ring because Seer and Octane pushed a squad on the edge of the closing ring.

"Only 2 enemy squads left.... Victory is nearly ours." Seer said as Octane used his Jump Pad to take both Mirage and Seer to the upper parts of the Rift. Being this high gave them the advantage to examine their upcoming enemies.

Besides Mirage acquired a fully upgraded Longbow, so he could see their enemies from at least 300 meters away. But the main reason he was using the Longbow, is because he could still keep an eye on both of his Teammates without moving a lot.

The drugs enhanced Seer's abilities greatly. His ears picked up the sounds of heartbeats even faster and his micro drones reached a distance even further than before. It almost felt like cheating. (Well it definitely was though, none of the legends were allowed to take any drugs, except for Octane, because you know, it's Octane.)

"6 enemies, North, not too far away, currently fighting each other." Mirage said as he loaded the Longbow, ready to Shoot one of them, while standing on top of the building.

Seer peaked through the scope of his R-301, Following the movement of what it seemed to be, Fuse. Who launched his knuckle cluster at one of the other legends he's been fighting.

"Let's go! It's not like they're going to commit suicide!" Octane exclaimed, injecting himself with the 40st syringe of Stim today. He threw his jump pad down in front of himself and used it to launch himself into battle.

4 legends closer to victory. Mirage wanted this to be over, this entire match pushed him to his limits. He doesn't care that he only had 2 kills, well of course he did, but he pushed that away for now.

Seer released his micro drones mid air, after he also used Octane's jump pad of course, to reveal the remaining enemies. Just before he landed, Octane already downed the last one of the other squad Fuse and his team were fighting.

"Knuckle cluster f'ring."

It struck Octane from behind and it stuck long enough to break Octane's shield.

"Shit." Octane growled. Seer heard his teammate being in trouble and quickly focused his attention on Fuse, who seemed to be amused and proud by his actions.

While Octane was trying to recharge his shield behind a MRVN, currently at top on one of the buildings from the Rift, Mirage noticed one of Fuse's teammates, down at the ground, tried to flank Octane.

Bloodhound, Mirage noticed, they only have to scan their area and they would be faster at Octane than mirage ever would be. So the man sighed and decided to take a gamble. First he shot Bloodhound, clearly cracking their shield, and after that he jumped in as well.

Bloodhound quickly turned around, trying to find the one responsible for their cracked shield. But before they took action, Mirage landed behind them. Not exactly behind but 50 meter away.

He tried to regain his balance, but....

"Alfather, give me sight! " Bloodhound suddenly said and turned around to notice Mirage's clumsy landing. Their eyes glowing red and quickly started shooting at the poor soul.

Mirage whimpered, trying to remain his cool, but he couldn't, every bullet he fired ended up in the gutter. But Bloodhound's bullets hit him one for one, almost knocking him. Luckily Octane finally finished up charging his shield and attacked Bloodhound upstairs. Delivering the final blow.

"Be careful where you walk, Amigo!" Octane yelled and threw a Phoenix kit towards the older man.

Seer seemed to have a hard time against Fuse. His quick reflexes suddenly turned slow and he barely found the energy to keep himself on his feet. Fuse took advantage of that, he swiftly moved out of the cover and readied an Arc star on his robot arm. Ready to shoot, but Seer just got enough power to release, his fast loading tactical and the micro drives escaped out of his chest device once again, canceling fuse abilities for a few seconds. Confusing the older men for a second as his arm wouldn't work

Seer's bullet struck Fuse right at his chest , to end the longest battle he had today. Then he collapsed.

"Is he dead?" Mirage boldly asked.

"Of course not, are you crazy, Compadre. " Octane muttered. "He probably fell asleep or something...."

"We have our Champion's!"

It seemed that Fuse and Bloodhound lost a teammate before the last ring closed, so they were unable to revive him or her.

"This was the weirdest match ever. I'm glad it's over..." Mirage sounded worried, and he has enough reasons to be worried. This was Obi's second match in the Apex game and recovering would surely be a drag.

"Come on Compadre, we won! Be happy!" Octane howled and quickly started to jump around.

--------

"So, Silva caused all of this, Huh. It was mu'h fault, i should've keep an better eye on him." Che rubbed her temple as she plays with a pen in her other hand.

After the games ended, Lifeline got called in to pick up Obi's lifeless body and brought him to the hospice on the drop ship.

"It isn't your fault, Aya. I was with him at the match, I should have stopped him earlier. Obi's going to be alright, right?* Mirage replied, standing next to Lifeline, who's scribbling some notes on her note pad about Seer's condition.

"He's going to f'ne. The only problem is that it would take weeks for him to r'cover. I mean, he can easily compete to the games again in just a f'w days. Stim is one h'll of a drug, if you ain't used to it, the side effects of it are terrible. He would still feel energetic but his stamina won't be able to deal with it, think of headaches, being tired all of the time, that surt stuff. He won't be happy when he wakes up."

"I see..." Elliot mumbled.

"Silva is at the Paradise lounge. Yuh should go there as well. Celebrating yuh win and all." Lifeline added. "I can't come, I need to keep an eye on the artist, yuh know."

Mirage wanted to ask if Che was coming too but she already answered his thoughts.

"Are you sure?" He asked to make sure he understood it right.

"Definitely! Now go, Witt. Obi will be alright as long he's in muh hands."

And so Mirage did. Without a doubt lifeline's care was the best of the outlands and Seer will recover as fast as possible. Ready to Lecture Octane about his wrongdoings. (or to kick his ass, just to show how disappointed he was.)

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Styles. || 16

Yellow

The journey to LA was far from easy, and it was more than Jamie and I both expected to the point I had to convince Jamie not to back out on the plans and ideas. LA was a learning curve for both of us, and it was exhausting in every way possible. I did not expect things to be easy, but I don't think Jamie suspected the events to be as hard as they were. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. From our hotel being overbooked and having to find a new hotel to our clients signing the false documents. Everything with the entire trip went wrong from the beginning.

My phone vibrates against my desk. At first, I ignore it, but I glance over to glimpse at the caller ID-- A photo of Elise and me lights up the screen. I'm surprised to observe Elise calling at this hour. I slide across and answer my phone, "Hey, love," I greet, uncertain of why Elise is calling me at ten at night. I spoke to her earlier while she was walking to class. We had agreed to see each other tomorrow since I just got off my flight this morning. I place my papers in a file to keep private as I lean back in my chair.

"Harry," Elise attempts to keep her voice steady, but I can tell something is wrong.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"Small problem," Elise sniffles, "My car broke down, my phone is almost dead, and my essay is due in an hour. I am soaked because I am locked out of my car, too," Elise informs me, on the verge of tears as she explains the events that have caused her to call me. "And it is pouring, and I'm in a white blouse," Elise whimpers, unmistakably sobbing. I hear thunder crack on the other end of the phone, and my office lights up while lightning intensifies the darkened sky.

"Send me your location. I am on the way."

"I'm right near my uncle's office."

"I'm coming down, don't move," I instruct, "Stay on the phone with me until it dies," I add, clutching my wallet and keys before walking to the door of my office and grabbing an umbrella. Elise grows withdrawn for a moment before she starts apologising to me for bothering me at this hour to come to get her. I shake my head and tell her to stop. It is my honour to find her in the middle of storms and help her out. It is what I am for. I hurry down the stairs and to the building's lobby, watching as the storm causes the lights to flicker on and off for a brief moment. The doorman glances at me and frowns but doesn't question me when I walk out of the door and hurry to my car.

The rain hits my windshield heavily, tapping furiously as if to make the point mother nature is pissed. I can hardly see as I begin to drive, following the location on my phone to get to Elise. Lightning illuminates the sky every few moments, and I swear the thunder shakes my car brutally. I tap my fingers against the steering wheel, anxiously attempting to locate Elise. Tonight wasn't the best time for Elise's car to break down. The raging storm is horrible. The trees are swaying side to side, the streets lights continue flickering, and the repercussions of thunder rock the earth.

I discover Elise's silhouette standing to the side under a slight covering. I park behind her car and put my hazards on, hopping out of my car instantly and hurrying towards her. "Hey," I greet, kissing her damp cheek and handing her the umbrella as I notice the small covering not doing much to keep her dry. Elise attempts to deliver me a humble smile, but she fails. I waste no time shrugging my suit jacket off my shoulders and sliding it up her arms, giving her something dry to help keep her warm, "Christ, you're freezing," I sigh, eschewing the fact she is wet head to toe. "Where are your keys?"

Elise holds her hand up and hands me her keys, "How are you locked out?" I ask, unsure how she has managed to lock herself out of her car on this awful evening.

"The car shut down, Harry. The locks won't work either. And I am in a white shirt."

It looks like someone has had a shit day.

Elise begins to sob while I place her car keys in my pocket.

I open my arms and bring her in for a hug. I press her against me for a moment and kiss the top of her head, "I think the white blouse is lovely," I chuckle, endeavouring to make light out of the situation.

"The doorman will get a good look at my bra." Elise cries into me.

"Could be worse, darling," I chuckle, "I have my laptop. You can send your work in once we get back to the office. It will all be okay, come on," I gesture my hand towards my car. "Get in the car where it's warm," I instruct, walking her to my car.

I hurry to the driver's side and sit in the car for a moment, adjusting the heat for Elise. "Thank you for coming." Elise breathes out.

"That's what boyfriends are for," I respond, beginning to drive while the heat is on full force.

I am not sure how Elise got so lucky to have her car break down and lock her out in the middle of a storm, but everything happens for a reason. There would be no way I could leave her out here in the middle of a storm.

❈ ❈ ❈

I close the blinds to the office and unbutton my shirt, "Here," I slide my navy shirt down my arms and hand it to her, "I have a white one over there," I gesture towards where Jamie left me a spare shirt the other evening in case I had a spare of the moment meeting. "I think it might be best if you wear the darker shirt," I smile, being considerate of the fact that I am sure she does not want everyone else seeing a wet, white shirt. Elise takes the shirt and looks around.

"Can anyone see?"

"No," I shake my head, "Door is locked, and blinds are closed," I assure her, stepping towards my spare shirt and grabbing it with my hand before wasting no time with sliding it up my arms and buttoning the shirt up.

Elise hurriedly peels off her blouse before pulling my shirt over her and buttoning it up, "What are you working on?" Elise softly asks.

"I am working on an ad-hoc analysis to make investment decisions for my client."

Elise nods her head and unlocks the door before she opens up my laptop just as my office door opens. Jamie marches in and steps towards me, handing me a file and setting a cup of coffee on my desk before glancing towards Elise, "What is my niece doing here? You both know I do not condone shacking up at work, right?" Jamie chuckles, and Elise shakes her head, bowing her head.

"Uh…" I trail off, "Not shacking up, her car broke down, and it has been downhill from there," I softly explain, unsure of whether Jamie disapproves of Elise remaining in my office.

"Elle," Jamie turns to face Elise, "What's wrong? What can I do?"

It is unusual to observe Jamie seem caring. In all honesty, most of the time, he seems cold. I still have no clue whether he is married or has kids. He is CEO to the max.

Elise shakes her head, "I am fine, Harry gave me a dry shirt, and I am trying to get my essay done," Elise gestures towards the laptop, "Will you tell Dad my car has stopped working? My phone is dead, and Harry is busy."

Jamie laughs, "And I am not busy? You know I run the business Harry works for, right?" Jamie continues to chuckle, "I will call my brother. If you need anything, just come to my office."

"Told you I am the favourite niece," Elise giggles as she wipes another tear away from her cheek.

I know she has to be overwhelmed and fatigued, hence the reason for her emotions and tears. "You're the more tolerable niece," Jamie corrects Elise, "Your sister is… She is a pain."

"Try growing up with her," Elise mutters.

"Mhm, anyway, I will leave you two alone. Harry, once you're done, you can leave. Take her home." Jamie gestures towards Elise, and I nod my head.

Jamie strolls out, and I stare back towards Elise, "Elle, are you okay?"

Elise glances up at shrugs her shoulders, not giving me anything to work with. I remain in silence for a moment, unsure of what to do or say. I cock my head to the side and watch Elise particularly. Her head is down, her hands are gradually typing at the laptop, and every few moments, she sniffles and wipes away a few tears.

I leave my side of the desk and shuffle over to her, "Elle," I demand her attention, politely taking my laptop and sliding it across my desk. I place my hand on her cheek and force her to look at me, "What's going on?" I softly request, wiping away a few of her tears and shifting her hair behind her ear.

Elise lifts her shoulders into another shrug, "I don't know. It is school, and Dad wants me to go into business and forces me to make investments I do not understand."

"What's going on with school?"

"It is kicking my ass already, and I hate my business classes."

It is a surprise to me that Elise is having difficulties. It appeared to me she was holding it all together and doing well. I guess I haven't paid as much attention as I should have. "I don't even know the basis of this essay, I am talking bullshit, and I have a test tomorrow. How the fuck do you do it?"

"Breathe," I instruct, "I'll help."

"You have enough to worry about."

"Is that why you haven't said anything until now?"

Elise nods her head, "Yeah, that is why Dad is on my ass. I have been asking him for help, and it is not working well. He is not of the teaching kind. Then, of course, I have my sister blowing me up, my roommate sucks, and life just isn't working in my favour right now. My car broke down, and I am sitting here crying in my boyfriend's office."… "It has been a bad day, Harry."

"It sounds like it. I'll help. Wipe the tears away and take a few drinks of my coffee to warm you up a bit, and we can work on your essay."

"But you're busy," Elise laments.

"Don't worry about me. Whenever you need help, just ask. I can work and help at the same time," I assure her, sliding my laptop back towards Elise and glancing at her screen. "Oh, you have Hargis. He's tough but not impossible. Have confidence in yourself. You have a great topic," I assure Elise, quickly reading the first few sentences to see what she's doing.

"I just don't understand any of it for my test."

"What is Computing the intrinsic or fundamental value of an asset?"

Elise heavily sighs, "Harry. I do not know."

She looks like she is about to start crying again. Fuck. "Basically, it's a fundamental price," I respond, kissing her cheek, "Takes time, baby. You'll get the hang of it."

"Mhm," Elise hums, not thrilled at all, "Can't I drop business?"

"Sure, I'll support you no matter what you choose."

I will support Elise in all decisions she makes. I may not always agree with them, but I will support her and be her number one fan. I want Elise to succeed and be happy. I want her to grow into the woman she has the power to be. I will never hold her back; instead, I will hold her up and hold her head above water to stop her from drowning.

"I'm sure my father will not."

"Business isn't for everybody. If it isn't what you want to do, don't do it." I respond.

Elise has the potential to do whatever she wants with her life. I know she will succeed at anything she puts her mind to. Business is something you are either born for or you're not. It doesn't come easy, and it isn't for everybody. I have been reading stocks and reading about the business world since I could read. It was my thing. It was what intrigued me.

"I don't know," Elise shrugs, starting to type away before I travel back to my side of my desk to do my work.

"You need a break."

"Oh, how the tables have turned," Elise sniffles, again wiping away a few tears. "What is the former? This makes no sense," Elise shakes her head, brushing a few more tears from her eyes.

"The former is known as a systematic or rule-based approach and the latter as a discretionary approach,"

"And they are usually associated with passive and active investing, right?" Elise softly asks.

I smile and nod my head, "See, you do know what you're doing, baby," I assure her. "Nevertheless, discretionary and systematic approaches are subtly different concepts. You need a break."

"Oh, how the tables have officially turned."

"They have," I nod, "I have to go up to Cheshire. How about we leave in the morning?" I suggest, "I know we both need to study, but I think it will be good to have the weekend off. We can still study."

"What about work?" Elise asks.

"Jamie gave me the weekend for working in LA all fucking week." I respond, more than happy to have a few days off, even if it means I have to devote it to studying.

❈ ❈ ❈

Elise accompanied the dreaded drive to my mother's, but even so, still, I was not too fond of every minute of the drive. This town always leaves me feeling cold and bitter. The memories I have of the place are not peaceful. My mother's house is still warm and comforting to a certain extent, but I can't help but feel an ache in the pit of my stomach every time I have to walk past the damn chair my father used to recline in. I clear my throat as my sister rocks back and forth in the damn chair, a white blanket draped over her as she taps her fingers against a wine glass. I tap my foot anxiously, my jaw clenching with every passing moment. She resembles my father in ways I can't stand. She is not the girl I once knew, the girl who would sit in the closet with me when our parents were fighting, the sister who held me and made sure that I knew we would be okay. At one point, she was my rock, now the tables have turned, and it seems like I am the one who needs to coddle her and protect her. Sadly, I do not know how to protect her and fix her. My father has destroyed both of us in many ways, but that cannot define us. I am not defined by the trauma my father has instilled in me. I can't use my father as an excuse for everything, and neither can my sister.

I shake my head and stand up, unable to control myself, "Gemma, get up," I instruct, taking her wine glass and placing it on the coffee table before my sister huffs and stands to her feet.

"What?" She mutters, not too pleased with me. We have not been speaking much since her antics when she went on an alcoholic rampage. It isn't that I hold it against her. It's that I know she can do better, and she hates authority. She hates that I am right about her.

"Jus' move, please," I instruct, gesturing for her to take a seat anywhere else in the house. My sister cocks her head to the side and stares at me, not moving out of the way. "Okay, since you won't move, help me pick this up. Grab the other end." I gesture towards the old chair that I want to douse in gasoline.

"You have lost your marbles. Mum will kill you."

"This chair is going to kill my sanity; let's go," I mutter, reaching down and picking up half the recliner, eyeing my sister to pick up her end.

My sister complies and lifts her end, most of the weight on my end.

I catch Elise in the corner of my eye, observing as she drinks her tea, but she doesn't say anything; instead, she moves to open the front door.

I carry the chair out and place it down by my car before walking back inside, not saying a word as Elise continues to sip her tea while she studies.

Carrying the damn couch was like taking a burden out of the house— it felt magnificent. My mother will more than possibly kill me for getting rid of the chair, it is one of the only pieces she has left, but it is a burden. Whenever I see it, I remember my father, who isn't worth the memory. Observing my sister rocking back and forth in the chair with a glass of wine was my tipping point. I do not want to see my sister turn into my father. Right now, she is on the same path as he is. She is slowly becoming a person I don't recognise, a person who doesn't do anything but drink and make life worse. I don't want this life for my sister. My sister has potential. She is a fantastic writer and could go far with her writing if she would apply herself and stop drinking.

"Why is my furniture outside?" My mum's voice distracts my thoughts, her voice4 travelling from the front door.

Uh oh.

I don't respond; instead, I wait for my mother to make her way to the living room, her hands full of paper bags filled with groceries. My mother raises a brow, and I make an effort to take the bags from her, wasting no time placing the groceries on the kitchen countertops. "Anyone care to answer my question?" My mother repeats her question.

I don't have the heart to tell her the reason why my impulse forced me to throw parts of her furniture outside. "Ah, Mum, I uh—" I trail off, reaching into one of the bags and taking out some of the groceries.

"I think what Harry means to say is that he is replacing the furniture."

"He is?"

"I am?" I look towards Elise with wide eyes before I clear my throat, "I am," I change my voice, sounding more convincing.

I don't think I can afford to buy a whole new living room set for my mother, who deserves it, but I guess I may as well add it to the list of things that I need to work on.

Maybe when I get my full pay from Jamie, I will buy my mother new furniture and fix up parts of her house. I know she needs some renovations, but she can't afford it, and I hate to see my mother without the best of the best.

"Harry, you don't need to do that."

"You deserve it," I shake my head, opening my arm and hugging my mother as she leans into me. My mother is an angel. She deserves the world— and I wish I could give her everything she deserves.

My mother gave up so much for my sister and me. She worked night and day to provide for us. She put us through school, raised us and made sure we had everything we ever needed. We may not have been rich with materialistic things, but we were rich in love. My mother loved and still loves my sister and me more than anything. She would walk to the ends of the earth for us. My mother is a saint after everything she has been through. My father was a horrible man and is still a horrendous man. To this day, my mother doesn't let that define her or allow it to be an excuse. My mother has raised above all challenges, and if buying her new furniture puts her at ease, I will do it.

I step towards the doors that lead to the back porch, and Elise instantly follows me. I close the door behind us, and Elise wraps her cardigan around the front of her body, the wind chill brushing past us. "Before you get mad and stress, hear me out," Elise instantly presses.

I shake my head, "I am not mad," I assure her. I have no reason to be mad with her. "I just can't afford it right now. Jamie doesn't pay me the big lump sum for another few weeks."

"Harry, I have it covered."

"What?" I question, unsure of how or why Elise has the living room furniture covered.

Elise steps closer to me and offers me a smile, "I noticed some of the couches were ripped and needed replacing, so I have been looking at furniture."

"That's nice, but I can't afford it."

"Great," Elise smiles, "I will pay for it."

"Elle," I shake my head, but she doesn't let me continue speaking.

Elise swiftly cuts me off, "Harry, it's one less thing for you to worry about. You won't let me help pay for the mortgage or anything. Let me do this. It can be an early Christmas present."

"I'm too tired even to fight it. I will pay you back," I assure Elise.

It isn't Elise's responsibility to pay for anything of my family. "Mhm, I don't want the money back."

"We shall see about that," I smile, leaning down and kissing her sweetly. "I do appreciate what you do and for being so understanding."… "Hopefully, this is temporary. I hope with my work starting that things will settle financially."

"I am sure it will," Elise nods, "Don't stress it," Elise offers me that sweet, addicting smile of hers that I adore so much.

I go to speak, but I stop when I see my mother at the door, gesturing for us to come inside.

❈ ❈ ❈

I feel myself in and out of sleep, a warm hand to my back, the tender touch causing a small smile to form on my lips. I have been having some restless nights lately in London. I had hoped that being out here in the countryside, I would sleep a little better, but that is far from the case. I have been in and out of sleep for the last few hours, my thoughts crowded with work and school. I will be glad when school is over and when things work in my favour. I just need to get through my masters, and it will all work out. If everything goes to plan, I will start my own business and have my masters in the next year or two. I will have to start from the bottom with my business, but I will get to the top. I will one day control my hours and be the CEO. Right now, it all seems so far fetched, but one day it will happen.

I lay awake noiselessly. Elise's delicate touch woke me a few moments ago, but I haven't moved; instead, I allow her to continue drawing on my back. This is the first time I have woken up to her awake and drawing soothing nothings on my back at an ungodly hour. I could get used to this. It's soothing.

She draws aimless circles on my back before she starts to trace a specific pattern. I follow the pattern, drowsily coming to terms with what is being written on my back. It takes me by surprise to understand what she is tracing over and over again. I didn't expect the words to come from her. Elise continues to trace "I love you" on my back.

I told Elise I loved her a few weeks ago, she never said it back, but I knew it would take time. I didn't expect nor want Elise to say it because she felt like she had to. I wanted her to say it on her terms and to mean it. I am not sure why Elise is tracing it on my back and not expressing it in person. I contemplate whether to say anything or not. I don't want to make her uncomfortable. I am not sure how she feels about things. If she wanted me to know, she would tell me verbally. Or perhaps this is the only way she knows how to express her feelings. I am not sure what goes through her mind when it comes to emotions and relationships.

Once Elise stops drawing sweet nothings on my back, I wait a few moments before I carefully roll over and wrap my arms around her. Elise nestles into me and gets comfortable. "I love you, too," I whisper, breaking the silence.

I love this woman more than I had intended. I know it sounds awful, but I hadn't meant to fall in love so quickly and easily. I thought it would take a lot more time than it has. On rare occasions, I get time to myself and don't have to study or work; I have realised that I'm already at the point of wanting her to move in with me full time, but I don't think my apartment is sufficient. If all goes as planned with my clients and Jamie's offers to keep me working with him, my salary will be enough to get a decent house for the two of us if I get a mortgage; however, I'm scared to jinx things.

What if we move in, and it all goes downhill?

What if she realises he hates the way I fold my towels?

As stupid as they may be, I have many what-ifs, but I love her and want a life with her. I don't want a half-life, and I don't want to live this separate life of barely seeing each other because our schedules don't add up and because I work all hours. I know we are young, but she's the one. I may not be anywhere near close to marrying her, but she's my other half. She's the woman my mother used to tell me about when she'd say to me, "you'll know when you find the right one; you'll just know."

Elise is like a breath of fresh air. She's what gives me that extra bit of hope when it comes to life. She's my constant. With everything I've been through growing up, with everything my father has put me through and my half brother roaming the town, she is the only constant thing that makes me feel at home. She's my safe haven. She isn't the reason why I wake up every morning, that's cliche, but she is the reason why I go to bed knowing the woman of my dreams has finally found me— she's finally mine. I couldn't have asked for anyone better.

When I glance at Elise, I don't just observe a beautiful woman. I see someone ready to take on the world. I see a strong, opinionated and intelligent woman who will challenge me in every way possible. I see a woman who will call me out when I'm an asshole and put me in line, a woman who will love me and stand by my side through thick and thin. When I look at Elise, I see a woman who will probably cause me to want to pull my hair out at some points, a woman who will raise children to be just as bold, independent and as loving as she is— and most of all— I see a woman who will go to the ends of the earth to greet me with a smile.

Everything she does turns into something beautiful. She's the sunshine on the gloomiest of days, she makes everything warm, she is the hope in my eyes when I wake up each morning— she’s yellow.

"You're awake?" Elise whispers, settling space between us so she can move from her position and gaze at me.

"Yeah," I softly respond, "Want me to pretend to be asleep so you can take back your 'I love you?" I extend a slight chuckle, referencing the night I told her I loved her, and she asked me if I wanted to take it back. I do regret blurting it out in the middle of an argument. But oh well.

"No," Elise responds.

I hope I haven't ruined things. I know she may not have been ready for me to know I was awake. Perhaps she was tracing it in confidence that I was asleep.

Elise grows quiet for a moment before she smiles and pushes a few strands of her behind her ear, "Guess the cat's out of the bag, huh?"

I chuckle and lift my shoulders into a shrug, "Guess so. But if you aren't ready to admit it, I can pretend I have been asleep?" I offer with a cheeky grin. I can't help but feel giddy inside. I feel like a kid in a candy shop told they could pick any candy they want—the butterflies and happiness hum through my veins at the realisation that she loves me too.

"I love you," Elise whispers.

"I love you, too, darling," I respond as she rests back down on me and gets comfortable.

As Elise lays on my chest, my arms are wrapped around her while the rain starts to set outside. "Ever wonder what happiness is?" Elise murmurs drowsily, sounding as though she is ready to fall asleep.

For most of my life, I have wondered what happiness is.

Is it truly a feeling?

Is it an emotion?

They say that happiness is an emotional state characterised by sensations of delight, satisfaction, contentment, and fulfilment. While happiness has numerous definitions, it is frequently described as involving positive emotions and life satisfaction.

I am not quite sure what happiness truly is.

Have I felt it? Have I felt true happiness, or is it an illusion?

It's a question I may never know the true answer to. Happiness comes and goes in waves. One minute it feels as though it washes over me and cleanses my soul, but other times it appears as though it has deserted me. Happiness is like a heartbeat monitor; it goes up, it goes down, and when it looks like it is a steady, straight-line— it's probably dead— happiness is not constant. If it were constant, we would never welcome other emotions that are essential for life.

When happiness is not present, I discover myself learning some of the best life lessons. If it weren't for the bitter feelings, I wouldn't have the energetic drive to succeed in the business world. My sentiments towards my father, the hatred and resentment, give me the fire in my soul to become everything he wasn't. I don't want to ever be like him, and I want more for myself. I want more out of life than alcohol and anger.

I may never know what happiness truly is— I may never have my answer for what happiness is— but one day, I hope to have an understanding of it.

"It's you," Elise softly whispers, her body getting heavier on my chest as she falls closer and closer to falling asleep.

I smile to myself and run my fingers through her hair. It is an honour to be her happiness, but deep down, I have the feeling that she is my definition of happiness, and if she isn't the definition, she is the source.

When we are born, they say we are born with all the universe's wisdom and the answers to everything, but we forget it by the time we can talk. If I could talk back then, I wonder what wisdom I would have known— I wonder what knowledge I would have to offer someone— for now, I will settle with knowing that my happiness begins with myself and ends with Elise. To be happy with her, I have to be satisfied with myself. I may not be the best man; I am not a saint, but I do my best to grow each day. That is all I can do— it is all anyone can do.

[vanityeols]

Dangerous Ride 》 Jungkook F1 Pilot AU

PART 1.

After your boss gave you the hard task to interview the most famous, hot and womanizer F1 pilot Jeon Jungkook, you considered yourself the luckiest columnist in Celebrity Magazine. C'mon, have you seen him? And he is single, for God sake...

"Bring me a good article. I need juicy news about him. Write a front page deserving article or don't even bother coming back young lady." Your boss's voice echoed in your head the whole flight.

You settled down in the hotel in Monaco after your flight from New York, and you are now near the bar area, preparing for the interview. When you turn around, you drop your notebook on the ground and when you are about to catch it...

Oh, god! It's Jeon Jungkook. Just the man I was looking for.

He beats you to it, and hands you your book.

"I think you dropped this."

He looks amazing. White shirt, black suit, messed black hair. What a man...

"Thank you."

Jungkook stares at you with a seductive smirk on his lips and takes a seat next to you. Please greek God, if you come any closer I won't be able to keep my hands to myself.

"A water please". He orders and turns to face you. "Do you want something?".

"I'm already served..." you smile politely.

"I'm too late as it appears." He smiles back.

You can't help but notice his perfect features, his magnetic aura. He is incredibly good-looking. Jungkook catches your gaze and smiles.

You are about to introduce yourself, but he and his husky voice beat you to it.

"I'm Jeon Jungkook".

"Yeah, I know. I'm Y/N."

You stare over the crowd of reporters with a few racing drivers giving press conferences. "Aren't you supposed to be there?"

He nodded, looking back at them. "Yeah I should, but I'm not a big fan of the media."

Which makes my task so hard to complete.

"Oh let me guess. You are a fan of privacy."

He smirks and leans closer to you. "How did you know?" Ok, too close loverboy.

You shrugged and looked down to your water cup. "Gossip flies around."

He nodded and licked his juicy lips. "So will you be watching the race tomorrow? I suppose you're here for that?".

"Indeed I will. In fact I came here just to see you.." you told him, tucking your hair behind your ear, in a innocent but at the same time flirty way.

He eyed you from head to toe with an arrogant smile playing on his face. "Then, I better take the pole position".

"Oh, someone is being confident."

"I'm being realistic."

You're impressed by how easy it is to have a conversation with him. Rumors say he is not nice to interviewers. But they also say he loves to play around women so you must be one more easy target to him.

He leans toward you, his woody scent galvanizing your senses. Keep your cool Y/N, keep your cool. A ghost of a smile spreads on his face when he notices your breath fastening by the sudden proximity.

"I better go, I don't do social appearences too long." He whispered in your ear, before pulling away subtly.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Jungkook."

"Likewise, beautiful. Will I see you tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night?" I asked, confused.

"At the after race party. I would love to see you there."

OK Y/N AM I DREAMING?

"Maybe, who knows."

He smiles before brushing his hand behind your back. "I don't accept no's or maybe's lady Y/N. I will be waiting for you tomorrow night."

And with this, he leaves. And there you are trying to hide your blush. Damn is he hitting on me?

You go back to your room and text your bestfriend and colleague, Hanna, who's a huge fan of Jeon Jungkook.

"I just ran into Jeon Jungkook in the hotel bar."

"LUCKY BITCH!!!! I'm so jealous right now. What happened?"

"Well...he wants to meet me tomorrow after de race."

"Is it a date?"

"Of course not! I still need to interview him."

"But you know he is single, right? But as your bestfriend and a huge fan of him, I need to warn you. He is never serious about relationships. He never goes out with the same woman twice. In fact we never heard of him having a girlfriend officially, but he is a playboy. Believe me, I know a looot about him."

"Interesting. A man like him doesn't scream engagement, I know. But it's not like I want to have something with him. I just need a few answers to my juicy questions, that's all."

"But Jungkook wasn't like that two years ago. Something must have happened. My theory is that a woman screwed him over. That's why he is single for so long. You should try your luck. The bad boy falling for the cute and petite interviewer."

"Hanna, that's ridiculous."

"You two are very alike, trust me. But at least he enjoys the pleasures of life."

"Ok, I got it Hanna. I'm not here for this. Anyway, I got to go."

"Good luck babe, you got this."

The next day you are getting ready to watch the qualification race, and even though you brought the best of your clothes with you, seems like you got nothing fancy enought to wear. I'm meeting Jungkook tonight, I should dress up well, it's an exclusive party invitation only.

You pick a tight black dress a little above the knees with long sleeves and a heart shape cleavage. To finish the look you added a beautiful gold necklace, black high heels and a black purse. Your hair was perfectly straight, falling down your back. To finish the look, you added a red lipstick to your lips and voi la.

A few minutes later, you are watching the qualification race of the Monaco Grand Prix in the VIP area. You spot Jungkook's red car as the crowd cheers for him with thunderous roars.

"And Jeon Jungkook is leading the qualification race! He's bending the track to his own will." You hear the voice of the commentator on the speakers.

In a flash, the drivers pass in front of the crowd, leaving the screaming, brutal sounds of their engines behind them.

"Jeon Jungkook is driving a blistering speed, and Kim Jongin is on his tail. Unbelievable! It's only the qualification race but neither of the two want to slow down. This opening lap will tell us which one of the- OH MY GOD!" The commentator gasps.

Jeon Jungkook tries a dangerous maneuver. He is in a skirmish with Kim Jongin. With all eyes on him, he loses control of the car. Tire squealing. Air hissing and....CRASH.

"AND JUNGKOOK CRASHED".

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest. "Oh my god!"

He slams brutally into the barriers. The audience starts to worry and falls quiet. A minute later, Jungkook gets out of his cockpit and waves at the crowd assuring he's fine.

"Oh no, the judge gave him a black flag...." you mumbled, biting your nails.

"Our favorite, Jeon Jungkook has been disqualified. He won't participate in the Grand Prix. This time his reckless maneuver was penalized!"

You see Jungkook getting out of his car. He smashes his helmet on the ground and strides toward his pit. Man that was intense. It must have been terrible for him.

As much as you wanted to talk to him and see how he was feeling, you didn't get the chance to. Journalists were fast to run to him and all you could see was cameras flashing, and he doesn't really like that, like he told you before.

A few hours later you were at de VIP party. All the elites are there: models, celebrities, racing pilots. E everything was peefectly designed. The decoration was spot on. The atmosphere was magical, glamorous, like a Gatsby's party.

And like all great parties, there is drama...and troublemakers.

This can't be true. What is he doing here?

You spotted Park Jimin, aka your ex boyfriend, dancing with some random supermodel, grinding against her hips. Just the sight of him turns your stomach instantly. And to make the mood even better, he spots you right away, smirking when he caught your eye. I know he is from a very healthy family, but why is he in this after party, in Monaco?

"Well, well, well, Y/N, what are you doing here?" He looks at you from head to toe. "And....so elegant...". He walks towards you and you freeze. That good looking bastard, cheated on me with my at the time best friend. He was the man who broke my heart, made me feel worthless, destroyed my vision of true love. Now thanks to him I never believe anyone who tries to get close to me.

"You can stop right there. I appreciate the compliment. Now if you excuse me..." you gave him your best fake smile and rush towards the bar area, as far from him as possible. You call out a bartender, determined to drown your misery and the terrible memories you have of Jimin. "Give me something strong...".

"Coming right up lady." The bartender winked at you and disappeared to get your drink.

You looked around. Your ex having the time of his live. Couples kissing, others flirting...

And here I am, feeling miserable. Not being brave enough to talk to men. Too much of a good girl to be risky and flirty with someone. You shake your head, biting your bottom lip.

Shot after shot, you forgot why you were here in the first place. Anger is getting the best of you. You were about to ask for another shot, when a strong hand grabbed the cup from your hand and pushed it aside.

"Apparently misery does love company?" Jungkook smiled, genuinely, before taking a seat next to you.

Finally someone to make my night, a better night. Hi eye candy.

"Do you need some help? I mean, seems like you have a lot going on in here." He points to his head.

You rolled your eyes at him. "You crashed your car earlier. It seems like you have your own problems to solve."

"Ouch" he placed a hand on top his chest with a hurt (playful) expression. "Ok I probably deserved that one. But what happened to you today?".

You took a deep breath and looked right at him, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. "I ran into my ex boyfriend. Yeah, bad luck. I found that douchebag in Monaco. What a coincidence. Of all the places he could go, he is here. In this party. Almost having sex on the dance floor with some supemodel. You grabbed your drink and took it down with one gulp.

Jungkook blinked and looked around. "Where is he?"

"You see the guy with the white shirt wearing black pants? The one next to the blonde supermodel? That's him."

Jungkook nodded. "What a bad haircut. And to be honest he looks like a robot trying to dance. If you ask me, you are way out of his league." And when he said that, his hand rested on your thigh. "Way too attractive miss Y/N..."

You looked down at his hand and then back at him. A playful grin on your face. "Mr.Jeon Jungkook, are you flirting with me?"

You both laughed. Jungkook bites his bottom lip, something he seems to do a lot to his own good, and pulled you closer.

"Why don't we make this night better for both of us?" His breath mixed with mint and alcohol is sending shivers down your spine. His hand is now down your back. You drank way too much already and it's not helping.

You remember what your bestfriend Hanna told you about him being a womanizer and only doing one night stands kind of things. But you were tired of being the good girl. Tired of not having adventurous memories because you were too good for your own good and ttonight.Damn tonight, a hell of a man was in front of you. Wanting you as much as you want him and even if it's one night only, the present is what counts.

I wanna live this moment.

You look at his perfect lips, wondering how it would feel like to kiss Jeon Jungkook.

And just like you, Jungkook is staring back at your lips, waiting for you to do the first move.

"Like what you see?" You asked, feeling daring.

He smirked. "Oh, I'm definitively enjoying the view."

You licked your lips, tracing your fingers down his arm. "You must know I'm here for business."

Jungkook nodded "is that so?"

"I'm a columnist."

He shrugged. "And?"

You remember your boss's words. "Interview Jeon Jungkook, give me juicy news, write a front page deserving article or don't even bother coming back young lady."

"...and I'm here to interview you. I've been trying to do it all day..."

His expression changes. As if he was...mad.

I know he hates the media, but I would hate to be fired.

"It's for a women's magazine. You sure know you have a huge feminine fanbase who would love to know more about you...."

Jungkook gives a deep breath and nods. "I see..but what about you? Not the Y/N columnist, but the real Y/N...."

You raised an eyebrow, obviously confused.

"What about me?"

He wrapped an hand around your wrist and pulled you close to him, his grip gentle, his lips brushing your earlobe.

"Would you like to know me?"