#red bank road

[blackpoolhistory]

Queen's Mansions at the junction of Red Bank Road and the Promenade in Bispham from 1938.

[rabbitcruiser]

Clouds (No. 950)

Hwy 128 Colorado River Scenic Byway, UT

[lionheartlr]

Discovering Bhutan: The Last Shangri-La

Nestled in the Eastern Himalayas, Bhutan, known as the “Land of the Thunder Dragon,” is a country that beckons travelers with its pristine landscapes, vibrant culture, and profound spirituality. As one of the world’s last remaining Buddhist kingdoms, Bhutan offers a unique blend of ancient traditions and modern sensibilities. In this travel guide, we’ll explore Bhutan’s history, political…

[fangirl-dot-com]

🚕Accidentally Kidnapping a Mafia Boss

*part of the reverse tropes series*

Pairing: MafiaBoss!Max Verstappen x UberDriver!Reader Genre: Crack/Humor/Fluff? Summary: Uber seemed like a brilliant plan to get money to buy a new car. However, a mistake has you picking up the wrong passenger. Pretty blue eyes turn dangerous when you notice the gun in his belt.

*this was actually so much fun to write! this is in no way dark whatsoever. it's super funny and the reader is pretty ditzy but it's all in good fun! hope you like it!*

TAG LIST CLOSED

You hummed to whatever tune was playing on your half-broken radio. Most of the lyrics came out as muffled voices, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Because like the radio, your car was almost dead. 

Key word being almost. 

You had bought the car at the beginning of your high school career and refused to give it up. But, your father had finally convinced you to buy a new one. However, buying a new car was expensive, hence why you were driving around town at 7 p.m. on a Friday night trying to find someone who needed an Uber. 

Your family had mentioned how dangerous it was to drive for the “taxi” company, but no one else was hiring at this time. 

“It’s an easy way to make bank,” you had told your very confused parents. 

Your hand came up and smacked the top of the dash, causing the radio to spam for a moment before finally, clear voices played out. However, your eyebrows furrowed once you could actually listen to the song. 

“This is not my playlist,” you muttered while trying to get your Bluetooth to come back on. Once your fingers reached the dials, your phone lit up with an Uber notification. 

“Finally.”

You quickly put in the address and drove down the street. Your humming resumed, playlist reaching out through the speaker. You hadn’t even glanced at where the location was, or you would have realized that you were going in the wrong direction. 

When you were supposed to be going further into the town, you were headed for the city. The only place your parents refused to let you drive. 

It might have to do with the local mafia war that was going on. Something about track limits or whatnot. However, that was not going to stop you from getting paid that night. 

You finally came to a stop at the corner of what you thought to be Fifth and Main, like your phone said to stop at. The actual corner was Fourth and Main, but you couldn’t tell because half of the word “fourth” was smudged with some type of brown substance. 

Your shoulders raised in a shrug while your gaze landed back on your phone. At least you were supposed to be picking up a nice older looking lady. That’s what your Uber app said anyway. You leaned forward in the driver’s seat, making the entire car squeak. Before you knew it, your fingers had started to tap along to the song that was still playing. 

The sound of the door opening and slamming shut caught your attention. 

“Drive!” you heard from behind you. 

Your entire body turned in the seat as you looked to the back row of your car. 

That was not a nice looking old lady. 

The man that now resided on the back road had a mean glare as his eyebrows cocked. Sea blue eyes met your own as the man leaned forward and pointed out the window. 

“I said drive, let’s go!” the accented voice yelled.  

If you had taken a moment to actually look at the man, you would have noticed his roughed up suit, along with the bright red splatters along his white dress shirt. And on his belt line, a gun seemed to be tucked. 

But you hadn’t noticed. 

“Yes sir!” you cheerfully said, putting the car into drive. A loud boom sounded outside the car, but your radio had decided to turn up full blast, masking the sound. Your car squeaked as it started to move away from the corner and farther along the road. 

The man in the back seat seemed agitated, but slowly relaxed the farther away you got on the highway. He had leaned back against the window and rubbed his eyes. You wanted to keep glancing back at him, but you needed to drive. When you noticed that the Uber app had not updated with his next location, you gathered the courage to speak. However, he beat you to it. 

“Is this your first time?” 

You sheepishly grinned back at him. “Yes, sir. Sorry, is it that noticeable?” 

A grunt escaped his lips. 

“The damn Get Away Car sticker on the back is not very inconspicuous. You need to get rid of it.” 

“Oh! So you don’t like Taylor Swift that much?” 

The man glared at you through the rearview mirror, before he shut his eyes. His hand waved at you through the gap between the front seats. 

“Just don’t miss the exit.” 

“Sir, you’ll need to put in your location first.” 

His eyes shot open. “I guess this is your first day. How did you ever get through training?” 

You glanced back. “Training? It was all online?” 

A huff only answered as he reached for what you hoped was a phone in his pocket. 

“I’ll have to let Lando know that online training will not work.” 

You let out a nervous giggle, noting that there was no “Lando” in the Uber training video. But, once again, the money promised kept you going down the highway. You kept glancing at your phone, hoping that the guy would just put his address in. Now you were getting annoyed.

“Sir, I really need the address or I’ll have to make you get out.” 

A click near your ear made you freeze. 

“Who do you think you are? Giving orders to de Leeuw.” 

You had definitely picked up the wrong person. You wanted to start explaining yourself, but the gun near your head made the words die out in your throat. You could feel his breath on your ear as he spoke. This would be hot, if you weren’t scared to lose your life. 

“Now, you’re going to tell me who you are and why you don’t know where the right exit is. Are you working for Hamilton? Vettel? Alonso?” 

You were so caught up in not wanting to die that you missed the car in front of you slamming on your breaks. You were thankful for your fast reflexes as your foot pressed down on the left pedal, making your car lurch to a halt. A thump on the back of your seat had you reeling around to see what had happened to the blond man. 

You were surprised to see him now sprawled on the back seats, eyes closed and gun now on the floor. Your hands were shaking as you were now able to take a random exit. When you got to a random parking lot, your head hit the steering wheel. 

“I have de Leeuw in my back seat.” 

Your breathing started to grow ragged. 

“I have  de Leeuw in my back seat!” 

You were now panicking. 

“I HAVE AN FUCKING UNCONSCIOUS MAFIA BOSS IN MY BACK SEAT!” 

Charles’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Max’s tracker come to a stop in a parking lot. The Dutchman was supposed to come back right away after a swift deal with Gasly on the other side of town. But, Charles’s heart had dropped when the car, that Max was supposedly in, turned at an exit too soon. He took off his headset and rolled his chair over a bit. 

“Lando, who was picking Max up today after the deal? Was it Carlos?” 

The curly-haired Briton spun in his seat to look at his fellow mafia worker. 

“Uh, Carlos called in sick. I thought it was Oscar’s turn?” 

Something felt weird in Charles’s stomach. 

“No, Oscar is on that mission? Daniel was then after Oscar.” 

Lando’s eyes widened with fear. “Daniel is out of the country.” 

The Monegasque turned back to his computer screen. All vitals for Max were still good, but he had yet to leave the location. His finger pointed and pressed against the screen. 

“Then . . . who has Max?” 

Back in the parking lot, you had gotten out of the car and were currently rocking back and forth in the fetal position. 

“This is not happening. Why did this happen to me? I only needed some money. Why did I get stuck with a mafia boss. I want to live. I need to get back home to my plant and cat.” 

Last time you checked, de Leeuw was still out cold. You had taken the gun just in case he woke up in a panic and started to shoot at stuff. That would not end well for you. You grabbed your phone and pushed a button. 

“Yes? Hi? Hello, I am calling about what to do if I picked up the wrong passenger. Uh-huh. Yes. I didn’t have his address. Well, no. He’s unconscious. I can’t call the police, he probably owns them. What? Ok. No? The hospital is under the law as well? Yep. I can’t just take him back! No, wait. Don’t hang up. Uhg.” 

So much for customer service. 

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket. Your feet took you over to your car, and you opened the back seat. The blond man was still looked like he was asleep. Your face got closer to his. 

Hm. Up close he was quite handsome. The freckle on his lip really added bonus points. You were so engrossed with the small dot that you missed the twitch of his eyes under his eyelids. When you looked back up, your eyes met blue, which made you shriek and fall back on your butt. 

Max was a bit out of it when he was trying to wake up. What he wasn’t expecting was a face to be so close to his when his eyes finally opened. He would laugh if he had the strength as he watched you fall onto the concrete. His hand immediately went to his belt, but his heart dropped when he didn’t feel his gun. 

“Looking for this?” you asked, gun outstretched at the man in your back seat. Max’s eyes widened at the gun pointed to his head. It took all of his strength to put his hands up. 

“You don’t want to do this,” is the first calm thing that the man said to you. You, however, kept the gun pointed directly at him. 

“You’re right, I don’t. But I can’t have you freak out on me and shoot my face. Who would take care of my cat back home? My cousin Lan could, but he kills everything.” 

Max registered the slight hitch in your voice. While his hands were still up, he took a moment to look around the parking lot. In the depths of his mind, he was hoping that Lando or at least Charles were on their way to come get him. Yet, his heart rate rose as he saw a few familiar things surrounding him. 

He turned back to you. “Ok, you need to listen to me. We are in Rosberg territory right now. And he’s not going to like us on his property. So, you need to give me the gun and get back into the car.” 

Your eyes flickered around, and caught some movement to the left and then to the right. You slowly inched the gun down as you walked closer. When you were right in front of the Dutchman, you quickly handed him the gun as you rounded the car to the drivers seat. 

Max quickly reloaded the unloaded gun with a smirk on his face. You couldn’t have shot him if you tried. It took a bit for him to do it, but when the magazine fit back in the gun, he was wondering why you hadn’t taken off yet. 

“We have to go, now,” he said sternly. 

You turned around. “But I need to find a good get-away-song.” 

Max could count the pout on your lips as adorable, if it weren’t for the fact that Rosberg’s men were quickly making their way to the car. 

“You’re going to have to pick a good funeral song if you don’t hit the gas pedal.” 

“Aha!” 

The music blared out of the broken speaker as you finally put the car into drive. You heard metal hit metal and prayed that you still could trade your car out for another (even with a few bullet holes). 

Max had pressed himself up against the back seat, gun cocked and ready. 

“You better not shoot out my back window. I have to trade this car for a new one.” 

Max muttered, “You won’t trade anything if you’re dead.” 

“I heard that!” 

The mafia boss ignored you as he kept watch. When a few cars started to gain, that’s when he leaned back and aimed the gun, firing shots through your back windshield, shattering the glass. 

“Do you listen to anyone? Or is my voice just static in your brain?” you asked as you swerved onto the highway. When Max didn’t answer, you huffed. You steadily drove your car down the big roads as Max tried his best to keep the cars at bay. 

“How far am I driving?” 

Max grunted as he ducked from a bullet. “Just until exit 7. That’s my track.” 

You wanted to hit your head on the steering wheel once again. “You’re telling me that if I just kept driving, I wouldn’t be in this situation?” 

When he didn’t answer, you swerved a bit to knock him off balance. Your chuckles hit Max’s ear, pissing him off even more. 

“And to think, I was going to replace this utter junk if you made it out alive.” 

“We’re not done yet mister.” 

There was still a bit of road to go, and you were hoping that Max would try to shoot out one of their tyres, instead of trying to shoot at their drivers. He was about reload when he heard a clicking sound. Max really wanted to through himself out the door. 

“Is your blinker seriously on right now?” 

Your fully turned around to glare. 

“Yes.” 

You jerked the wheel as you got onto exit 7, making the cars behind slowly back away and continue on the highway. You wiggled in your seat as you did a little celebration. When some familiar houses came into sight, you gasped. 

“My cousin lives around here!” 

Max was out of breath as he was flabbergasted by your upbeat spirit. “Cousin?” 

“Yeah! He has this like high tech job and stuff. I come over to swim in the summer.” 

He had no words as you pulled up to a familiar house. You scrambled out the door and fell face flat on the asphalt. 

“Sweet mother, thank you, thank you.” 

You could kiss the ground, but that would be super unsanitary. When the garage creaked, you quickly got up and scrambled behind Max, who raised his gun out of instinct. However, he wanted to laugh when he saw his two best friends in full oversized gear. 

The two friends froze at the sight of their boss and, well, Lando’s cousin. 

“Y/n?” the Briton questioned, pulling the visor on the oversized helmet up. 

Your sprung in your place. 

“Lando!” 

“Max?” 

“Charles?”

Lando squinted at you. 

“Y/n?” 

A nervous giggle escaped your lips. 

“Lando?” 

The curly-haired man rushed at you, making you dodge around Max. Which, that resulted in Lando chasing you around the yard. 

“You kidnapped my friend?” 

“Why are you friends with de Leeuw and apparently Il Predestinato? I’m telling Aunt Cisca!”

“Not if I tell your mum that you Ubered in the city!” 

Max and Charles watched as the two of you ran after each other, hurling insults and threats. The two jumped when they heard a loud creak behind them and then a crash. When they looked, your car was down to the ground, wheels askew. 

“My car! De Leeuw, you’re paying for that!”  

uber_y/n has posted

uber_y/n new baby from my new baby 🖤

liked by bestie, land0, max_v, and 204 others

bestie um excuse me ma'am 🤨 what happened to bessie? 😭

uber_y/n someone (not saying any names [max] ) SHATTERED HER BACK WINDOW

max_v I hope you like bessie 2.0 schatje

uber_y/n I dooooooo(not)

max_v woman 🙄

land0 you just had to go for my cousin 😐😑😐

uber_y/n he was very charismatic, unlike you noRIZZ 🫵💀

sharl_lec pls, for the love of everything good in this world, quit uber

uber_y/n NOPE on my way to pick up someone named...lewis?

max_v oh no

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[extervus]

Having a phenomenal mental map + mental compass is good for many reasons but specifically rn it was very useful in losing a car that was following me in a neighborhood I've never driven thru before 🤙

[littlechivalry]

I love the idea of our Hawkins teens going to a showing of a Rocky Horror so much so please join me in this:

Eddie's driving. He's excited, loves that he gets to 'pop their cherry.' He pulls up to Harrington house expecting to see Steve and Robin posted up outside in full Brad and Janet regalia.

Eddie of course is dressed as Eddie and of course he thought about Frank but that might be too much. Steve is cool but is he cool? Eddie hopes but he's not an idiot.

Instead of proper Midwestern church clothes he finds Robin standing out front in a raggedy black suit, her hair greased down while Vicki (and yes Eddie had had his suspicions) is next to her dressed as a maid with her own bright red hair teased out to heaven.

"Riff Raff? Magenta? I didn't expect to see you two here."

Vicki laughs but Robin gives him a look that makes a shiver run up his back.

"So where's Steve? Decided to stay home?"

The last syllable barely leaves his lips when the door opens and - - -

LEGS. Fishnet stocking LEGS. Tap pants and a bustier and a shining tail coat and a top hat and a blinding grin and LEGS.

"Columbia?"

Steve laughs and dances down the steps and he's wearing tap shoes too? Eddie may not survive this.

Robin laughs at him but Vicki pats his shoulder in commiseration.

The drive to Indy is filled with jokes and conversation and music and Eddie is paying attention to the conversation. And he is paying attention to the road. But

LEGS

They get to the theater and get their props and their seats. A few songs in Steve begs off to go to the bathroom. Does Eddie watch him go? Of course. Can he actually see him very well in the darkened theater? No. But it's the principle of the thing.

Then the music starts up for the Time Warp and Eddie is on his feet along with everyone else in the theater. There are performers on stage dancing along with the movie, a long line of tuxedo clad strangers when suddenly a figure goes flying across the stage and Eddie can hear Robin and Vicki whooping but he is frozen.

It's Steve. Tapping. It's a perfect recreation of Columbia's dance routine and when the other boy finally comes to a stop, gasping, on a chair at the corner of the stage Eddie finds his voice screaming louder than he has at any concert he's ever been to.

A few minutes later Steve makes his way back to his seat and Robin lunges past Eddie to throw herself at him. Eddie can make out that she's talking but not what she's saying.

They make it through the rest of the show and it's amazing. Eddie's second favorite moment may be when Steve and Robin wrapped their arms around him during "Eddie" wailing out fake sobs.

They sing and shout themselves hoarse. The ride home is quiet but in the best possible way. Robin and Vicki are as good as sleeping in the back of the van and Steve is leaning against the window, humming along with the radio.

"Hey," Eddie says softly. "Where did you learn to dance like that?"

Steve smiles but it's barely a shadow of his usual smile and it fades fast. "When I was little my mom still gave half a shit about being seen as a good mother so she put me in dance classes. It didn't last too long. My dad didn't like it and after a while it became more important for her to be seen as a good wife so I was taken out and put into every sport."

Eddie doesn't say anything. Can't say anything.

"I really liked it though? I can't play music and I'm not much of a singer but I really like dancing. Robin had to put up with me practicing this almost constantly for the past few weeks. I thought she was gonna kill me."

"So you learned this for tonight?"

Steve turned to face Eddie and smiles. "I learned it for you, man. Thought you would get a kick out of it."

The small ember of Eddie's crush on Steve had initially been lit years ago in high school. He had banked it carefully, couldn't bear to let it go cold but too worried about losing Steve as a friend to let it flare bright.

"You learned it for me?" Eddie's stomach feels warm

"Yeah," Steve says, smiling. "Every Eddie needs a Columbia, right?"

Steve is laughing at him and that only makes Eddie feel warmer. Steve. His crush, Steve. Steve did this for him.

"Yeah," Eddie says. "Yeah, he does."

"Thought so," Steve says, turning back to the window.

Eddie drives them back to Hawkins in a silence full of potential.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Peter Anderson: Hi, my name is Peter Anderson. I'm from Peter Anderson Studio and we created the title sequence to Good Omens Season Two. So this scene is quite literally a continuation from Season One.

An interesting detail with this scene is the fly. The fly is significant because it stores Gabriel's memory.

Gabriel is hidden in every scene. This is the first time we see it.

This goat is half bird, half goat, representing a mistake in a moment of transformation.

In the pickled herring barrel, we have literally red herrings sticking out.

A lot of the gravestones have hidden engravings, easter eggs, all written by Neil.

[This one says: HERE LIES THE FORMER SHELL OF BEELZEBUB referncing Beelzebub having a new face in S2 :), another ones are: EVERYDAY, JANE AUSTEN, Here lies ADAM (the Adam from Adam and Eve is meant)]

Another hidden Gabriel.

Our same character that was trying to escape Hell in Season One titles is also trying to escape here, moving in the opposite direction to the rest of the procession. Except this time he's apprehended and dragged back into the procession.

Our Hell spider from episode four makes a little appearance in the background here.

Can you tell where the bus is going? Director Douglas McKinnon selected Powell and Pressburger's Stairway to Heaven to put on the billboard.

Another thing to note here is the type is all handmade specifically for Good Omens. The Alphabet only exists within the show.

The big floating turnip is a nod to Azirafel's magic tricks.

The Ladies of Camelot poster we pulled from the show.

We added plaques to the back of the chairs and Neil chose who to honour.

[There are: A TALE OF TWO CITIES by CHARLES DICKENS, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE by JANE AUSTEN, THE CROW ROAD by IAIN BANKS (twice!) and GOOD OMENS by TERRY PRATCHETT (Neil missing for some reason :) <3)]

Saraqael made an appearance from Heaven.

Our Space is back from Season One. Aziraphale and Crowley are having a little dance here. A moment of flirtation. There's a tiny planet in the middle that comes into existence at this moment.

Our Scottish tartan hills make an appearance here.

The aeroplane and the airline is a little bit of a clue here.

[THY KINGDOM AIRWAYS 👀]

It's raining love hearts in reference to Aziraphale's attempt at making Maggie and Nina fall in love.

Here are elevators to Heaven and Hell. A wee thing to spot. Here is Gabriel in the lift arriving from Heaven.

We've updated our flags to reference some of the plotlines in Season Two. For example, The Second Coming.

The movie poster artwork changes every week, representing the episode plotlines and the minisodes. We made the posters to look like the time period and in this case we've got a Good Omens version of Buddy Holly.

[The posters are:]

In the snack bar some of our popcorn is actually communion wafers.

There are specific characters from Season One in the boxes watching the movie as the procession goes by. This includes some of our original concept art from Season One.

The duck playing the accordion is from a newspaper headline that someone is reading in The Dirty Donkey from one of the episodes.

[this is also from the Good Omens book :): "Daily Mail. 'Letter From America.' Um, August the third," said Newt. "Just after the story about the woman in Worms, Nebraska, who taught her duck to play the accordion."]

Each episode is showing a new movie on the screen, each one selected by Douglas, and has clues about what's to come.

The season one phone box tumbles in the background.

The big mountain is made of all the ingredients from Season Two and a couple of remnants from Season One. We are heading towards the biggest Easter Egg, which is the lift. We're heading towards the Second Coming..

[rafeandonlyrafe]

taken care of

words: 2.2k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, established relationship, exhibitionism, VERY BARRY HEAVY FIC!, fishing and like description of cooking fish??? does that need a warning lol, mention of drugs, rafe and barry are drug dealers in this but its very brief, drinking, female receiving oral, sharing is caring lol?, p in v sex, male masturbation, voyeurism

“you don't wanna get out?” rafe asks, his hands petting over your thighs.

“im happy watching from here.” you hum, leaning forward to give him a kiss.

“okay.” rafe sighs, digging in his pocket for his keys, placing them in your awaiting palm. “you can keep the ac and radio on if you want.”

“you know me so well.” you coo, giving rafe another peck on the lips as he goes to the back of his truck, pulling out his tackle box and fishing pole. you keep the door open until you reach over from your passenger seat and turn the truck on, allowing you to roll down the window.

you wave at barry when he notices you in the backseat. “brought sweetheart fishing?” he questions, making rafe let out a grunt, while you just giggle.

barry loves to flirt with you in front of rafe, because he gets pissed and you get so shy, always ducking your head or hiding behind rafe.

“just watching.” you shrug, adjusting yourself so you're comfortable, glad the side of the road is so close to the river bank, letting you stay in the truck but still be close enough to listen to rafe and barry as they chat.

“fish on.” rafe calls out, huffing as he begins to reel. you sit up a little bit, trying to spot the fish in the water before it breaks the surface. your boyfriend hauls it out, a large fish but not a kind he usually keeps.

“wanna hold it?” rafe asks, looking to you.

“no.” you shake your head, hand coming to the lock button on the truck just in case he tries to get closer. “but ill take your picture with it.”

you raise your phone, snapping a picture of rafe with his fish before he undoes the hook from its mouth. he tosses it back into the river, the fish quickly retreating into deeper water.

you send the picture to rafe, knowing the grin on his face is only because of you. he doesn't even bother to check when his phone buzzes in his pocket. all notifications are silenced except for yours, even barrys texts being delivered without notification, only his emergency calls making the phone ring.

you don't even realize that you've fallen asleep leaned against the seatbelt, the warm sun on your face and calming sounds of the river flowing. you only blink your eyes open when the drivers door closes. you rub your eyes and look over to rafe, a gentle smile on his face. “sorry i woke you up.”

“it's okay.” you hum, leaning over the center console, arms circling around rafes shoulders, just wanting to cuddle up to him now that you're awake. “did you catch some more?”

“yeah, some nice bass. put a couple in the cooler if you're feeling up for fish tonight.”

“you wanna know what i want?” you tilt your head to the side, pulling back to look at rafe.

“what?” he hums out, eyes glancing between your lips and meeting your gaze.

“you.” you say before leaning in and capturing his mouth in a kiss, frowning when rafe doesn't reciprocate the way you want him to.

you pull away with an intense pout. “rafeyyy.” you whine out.

“uh, babe-” rafe chuckles, a look of mischief in his eye. you hear someone clear their throat in the back seat. your eyes widen, turning to see barry sitting there with a smirk on his face.

“oh my god!” you squeal, turning forward so the seat blocks your view of barrys goofy grin, covering your red face with your hands. “rafe cameron, why didn’t you say something earlier?” you shout, reaching over to slap him on the arm as he laughs.

“you kissed me before i could say anything!” rafe argues back, still laughing as you turn back to barry and apologize. “hes coming over for dinner.” “okay.” you whisper. you know barry is a drug dealer, and you know rafe is part of it too, but he keeps you as far away as he can from the life of crime, insisting that hes being as safe as possible, only dealing to kooks at parties.

rafe and barry chat, with occasional interjections from you, as rafe drives the truck towards your shared house. you don’t even bother going inside as you all head towards the backyard where rafe has a fish preparing station as well as a full outdoor kitchen with an expensive grill that was your birthday gift to him last year. sure, you paid for it with his credit card, but its the thought that counts.

“gonna take a leak, back in a minute.” barry heads towards the renovated pool house instead of the main home as rafe swings the heavy cooler up onto the counter. “is he staying the night?” you ask. barry always stays in the pool house when he ends up sleeping over, usually because hes too drunk to get himself home. 

“why? afraid you’re not gonna be able to be loud?” the only negative is the pool house is not too far from the glass sliding doors that lead into your bedroom with a view of the backyard and then ocean just beyond the fence you insisted get put up to keep anything from getting in your pool.

“stop it.” you whine, propping yourself up onto a clean spot on the counter. “i want you so bad.”

“well, im making you dinner right now.” rafe shrugs. “you’ll have to be patient.”

“but you promise to fuck me tonight? come on, i don’t know how long i can wait and i don’t want you getting too drunk with barry to fuck.” you complain, feet swinging.

“promise you’ll get off.” rafe says, noting that his words don’t seem to truly please you as you continue to have a scowl on your face. he knows how quickly your attitude turns when you get too needy for him.

“what you want to drink, pretty mama?” barry asks as he emerges from the pool house. 

“hard lemonade.” you bat your eyelashes at barry, moving from your spot on the counter as rafe gets out the fish to prepare it. you hate seeing him cutting into it, so you move to sit on the outdoor sofa instead.

“will never understand how you guys can drink those.” you turn your nose up at the beer barry brings for himself, handing one to rafe.

“jeez, whats gotten into you?” barry lets out a stark laugh, cracking open his beer with his keys before doing the same with your hard lemonade, handing it to you. even with the alcohol diluted, you still don't like the taste as your nose scrunches.

“shes horny.” rafe simply says, not turning away from his preparation.

“rafe, oh my god!” you shout. 

“oh.” barry just smiles at you, inching closer. “she gets bratty when shes horny?” he questions, not even talking to you despite his eyes glazing down your body.

“yeah. feel free to eat her out, man. itll get rid of her attitude while i finish grilling.” rafe says it so nonchalantly it takes both of you a second to realize he’s serious.

“really rafe?” you question. hes usually the most protective guy there is, always reacting badly when barry flirts with you.

rafe turns to look at the two of you on the couch. “why not? you’re just getting your cunt licked so you can stop being all pissy.”

“maybe because she’s your girl?” barry is just as surprised, though clearly eager from the way he keeps glancing between your thighs, now pressed tighter together.

“you’re not gonna fuck her. she’s not gonna touch your dick. you’re just eating her out.” rafe shrugs. “it’ll be doing me a favor, keeping her busy while i finish our dinner.” “well, i aint gonna argue. what you think sweetheart?” barry turns to you. you glance between him and rafe, only nodding when rafe gives you an encouraging nod. 

“perfect, now take those shorts off, let me see that pussy.” barry grins, gold tooth on display. 

you look to rafe as you stand up, surprised to see him already turned back to gutting his fish. you push your shorts and underwear down with a quick motion. he glances over his shoulder, simply smirking.

“i can’t believe he’s actually okay with this.” you mutter as you sit down, keeping your thighs pushed together as barry moves to his knees.

“just taking care of his girl for him. like how i take care of his drugs or people who fuck with him.” barrys hands come to your thighs, rubbing gently.

“you don’t have to do this though if you don’t want to-” barry can’t even finish his sentence as your legs spread open, revealing a sticky wet mess.

“i-um…” you blush. “i really am horny.” “i see that.” barry clears his throat, his eyes on your pussy. “now, lemme taste that.”

he leans in slowly, giving you a last chance to change your mind before his tongue swipes through your folds, making you shout out. you lean your head against the back of the couch as barry continues dragging his tongue around your cunt, purposely missing the areas you want him most.

“fuck, that’s good.” you moan, watching as rafe moves the prepared fish to the grill, looking over the way barry is hunched on the ground, knees digging into the pavement, his face surprisingly blank of jealousy.

“not as good as your boy though, right?” barry chuckles, hands coming to your cunt, pulling your folds apart to give him a view of your spread hole. 

“no.” you shake your head. it’s true, while barry feels good, he’s nothing compared to rafe. “sorry, bears.” you use the nickname for him reserved for moments when he lets his sweet side show. not often, but you occasionally get it.

“its alright, mamas.” barry shakes his head, eyes glossing over with lust as he sees the way your hole clenches around nothing, begging to be filled. “i know im just getting to eat you out this one time, i’m not gonna waste it.”

he leans in, done teasing as his tongue pushes into your entrance. you let out a moan, reaching down to grip onto barrys hair, undoing his ponytail so it falls into your fists. you hold his face closer as his tongue pushes in and out.

“god, you’re even tight around my tongue.” he groans, switching between kissing your entrance and fucking it with his tongue.

“and you’ll never get to experience it beyond this.” rafe smirks, knowing he’s the only one who gets to fuck you, your first and only. he flips the fish over on the grill, knowing by the look on your face that you’ll  cum by the time its done cooking.

“like having dessert before dinner.” barry slurps at your juices, tongue traveling up to your clit. 

“isnt she the sweetest?” rafe smiles at you, closing the lid of the grill as he gets the table ready, plates and silverware as well as a prepared salad.

“like candy.” barry murmurs, sucking your clit into his mouth, making your back arch as you let out a squeal.

“keep doing that!” you shout out, not caring that your neighbors may hear the way you’re screaming for him. at least the tall wooden fence blocks any view of your exposed sopping wet cunt.

“cum for him.” rafe commands. “dinner is almost ready.”

barry works his hardest, sucking your clit while his tongue simultaneously flicks over it. you try to hold on for a moment longer before your orgasm rips through your body, hips pushing up as you cum with a squeal.

barry switches to gentle licks as your clit pulses, working you through your high until you let go of his hair, pushing his head away as you pant, chest moving rapidly up and down.

“god, that was good.” barry pulls away, wiping his mouth against his sleeve as he stands, looking down at you as he squeezes his clearly hard length through his cargo shorts. 

barry grabs his beer off the table, moving over to take his seat at the outdoor table. you’re surprised how quickly he’s able to return to normal, as if he wasn’t just eating his friends girlfriend out.

“come on, princess.” rafe grabs your shorts, helping you slide them back up your legs. “fish is ready.” he presses a kiss to your forehead, then cheek, then finally against your lips.

“yeah.” you nod, standing and wobbling slightly, rafe wrapping his arm around your waist to guide you to the table until you’re in your seat.

“feeling better?” rafe questions, preparing your plate for you, seeing you still need a moment to recover.

“way better, actually.” you hum, no longer desperate for an orgasm. “thanks barry.”

“just helping my friends out.” he shrugs, lips still slightly glossy.

--

“leave it open.” rafe says as your hand moves to close the large curtain that covers the sliding glass doors. your eyebrows raise as you turn to rafe. 

“barry did you a favor earlier, might as well give him a view.” he smirks, pulling his shirt off.

you glance towards the pool house, rafe of course keeping him supplied with plenty of beers, enough that he was too tipsy to go home. he’s sitting on the bed, eyes meeting yours as the blinds have been left open.

it doesn’t take much longer for rafe to have you kneeling on the bed, tits bouncing as he plunges into you from behind, hands tight on your waist, holding you up on display for barry, stroking himself, his cock just in view through the window.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @folklorsweet @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout

[babygorewhore]

•Motives are incidental•

Your obsession with the Ghostface killer is almost as strong as your crush on Rafe Cameron. But your careless disregard for safety gets you into trouble one night.

Warnings! Ghostface!Rafe! Dub con! Primal! Praise! Degrading! Breeding kink! Unprotected sex! Knife play! Carving! Blood! Hints of stalking at the end! W.C less than 1.5K

Requested by my baby girl @sturnioloshacker I hope you enjoy, mama ;)

Being obsessed with the outer banks killer was stupid. You knew that. It was especially idiotic how you spent hours online studying victims, movie comparisons and possible motives behind these murders. It wasn’t that you were glamorizing crimes. It was more about wanting to protect yourself.

And your crush. Rafe Cameron.

You were head over heels with the successful businessman. You were a little younger than him but you shared a brief time in college together before he graduated. He was…decent to you at best. Rafe didn’t speak to you a lot. Mostly a passing hello or a head nod if he was speed walking to his next class.

It was embarrassing. The way you pined over him pathetically in your bedroom at night. Scrolling your phone and stalking his social media. Driving past the building he worked on your way to your own job.

The Ghostface killer distracted you briefly during the day from your crush. The nickname was released to the media last week as your frantic parents warned you about staying out at night or walking alone over the phone.

You came home and showered after your shift at the restaurant. A close friend of yours invited you to a party. It wasn’t something you did often, usually remaining here and indulging in your studies. But she begged you to take a night away from your personal investigation.

The party was fine. Nothing spectacular as you clicked your shoes together and waited for an Uber home. The nighttime sky loitered with stars winked above you. You didn’t fit in at the gathering away. With your pink ribbon laced boots. Dark clothes and your heart not in it.

You pulled out your phone, unable to help yourself and checked Rafe’s instagram story. He posted a picture of his work desk. His long thick fingers on the keyboard and you bit your lip. You wished you could feel his hand on your skin.

The Uber was ten minutes away when you felt the hairs on your neck raise.

You jerked your head around, swearing you felt someone watching you but all you saw were bushes moving around. Frowning, you stepped forward closer to the road. You were still close enough to civilization if you made a run for it or at worst, screamed for help.

A crunch sounded behind you and you whipped around. Your eyes were wide as you searched for any sign of someone near you. “If you’re out there, come out now.” You commanded and tried not to give away fear.

You didn’t see anything but you knew someone was there. Every single thing you knew about horror movies fueled you to start moving towards the house you came from. The faster you walked, the closer the sounds crept.

You started jogging but you felt a hand graze your back. You shrieked and kept going. Then you heard a laugh. A deep, slightly altered voice following you.

“You should know…I love it when they run.”

Oh fuck. You feel an arm wrap around your waist, lifting you into the air and you kick your legs in protest. “No!” You look down to see a black sleeve holding your torso in a vice grip.

You crane your head to see a white mask. An all too familiar sight. It was Ghostface. Whoever it was, his tall and strong body dragged you away from the yard with ease. Despite your efforts to get away. A red light flashed underneath the mask. You were the next victim. That’s what you get for being too careless with safety.

You drive your elbow into his stomach and he grunts. Easing his arm around your waist, you take the opportunity to throw your head back and headbutt him like a soccer player.

“Fuck!” He yells but he doesn’t stop. He pushes you to the ground, your limbs sprawl and you’re looking up at the famous killer. His mask is crooked, robe slightly shifted from your fight but he presses his boot against your chest.

“Stay. Still.” He grounds out, disguised voice in a growl. You claw at his shoe but he only applies more pressure and you wince.

“Oh? Still not giving up huh?” He taunts and leans down, pulling out a long hunters knife. You tremble as he traces it along your cheek, jaw and finally settles it against your throat.

“What if…I make you a deal?” Ghostface hovers above your face, the nose of the mask nudging against your hairline. “I won’t kill you…if you play a little game with me.”

You seize the opportunity and rip the mask off. All the blood drains from your face as you stare into the eyes of the last man you expected to see.

Rafe Cameron.

His stormy blue eyes bore into yours as an unreadable expression crosses his features. Rafe’s knee shifts and cages you in. Instead of lashing out, he gives you a sly, evil smirk. “Mama’s a fighter. Love to see it. Deal still stands. I won’t kill you. If you agree to my terms of the game.”

You nod rapidly and Rafe grins. He removes the knife from your neck but aims it at your heart. “You run. I catch you. And you let me carve something into that pretty skin of yours. I want everyone to see exactly who you belong to.”

Tears rush to your eyes as his gaze lingers on your mouth. “You’ll let me go if I say yes?” You whimper and he nods.

“Yes, princess. I’m a man of my word. You have…ten seconds. Starting now.” He pulls up and you scramble to your feet.

It was sick the way your pussy dampened as you made a run for it. You heaved out a breath as you opened your mouth to let out a scream for help but Rafe’s gloved hand covered your lips.

“If only you could see how pretty you look.” He whispered in your ear. Rafe tossed you back on the ground, ripping off your pants. He groans thickly at the sight of your soaked underwear.

“That’s it, Angel. You’re so wet for me. Such a good slut, huh?” You freeze as he flips the knife between his fingers, you hadn’t noticed him removing his gloves.

“Are you going to be a good girl and take my dick?” He questions and you whine as Rafe taps the knife against your pussy.

“I asked you a fucking question, mama. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Yes! I’m gonna be a good girl.” Your bottom lip quivers in anticipation as he peels off your sticky panties, shoving them into his pocket. He tilts his head in admiration as he separates your cunt with two thick fingers.

You gasped as he kicks off his pants underneath the robe, his thick cock slapping against his thigh and your mouth waters. “Please…fuck me…” All your fear morphs into overwhelming arousal as Rafe slams into you.

You shout, clawing at his back as he thrusts into you. Rafe moans as he fucks you to the brim, your brain turning off as you forget you’re having sex with a serial killer. You’re fucking a long time crush. He reaches down and massages your clit with his thumb as you squelch and squeeze his dick. You let silent groans of pleasure as he pulls out only to shove back into your cunt.

It was perverted. Anyone could pass by and see him fucking you but you didn’t care.

Rafe latched his lips to your neck, sucking harshly enough to leave marks as he nipped and bit your skin. You mewled and spread your legs wider as he peppered kisses to soothe the pain.

“That’s my good girl. You’re my little whore. Letting me split you in half. Fuck, you’re so tight. Gonna breed this pretty pussy.” He promises and you throw your head back as your belly uncoils. You cum all over his cock, the sticky fluid giving him more lube as he follows suit. Emptying his seed into you.

“God damn, mama. Knew you were into me but Jesus. Letting a masked killer fuck you like this? You’re even more of a slut than I thought.” His degrading words harmonize with your cries as Rafe pulls out.

He grabs the blade, digging the tip into your plush thigh. You wince at the sting but only watch in a daze as he carves, “Owned by R.C.” He removes the knife, bringing it to his mouth and he licks it off.

Rafe pulls out his phone, the camera flashing and he pulls up your pants once he finishes. “You’re gonna go home now, princess. Leave that window unlocked. I’m not fucking done with you. I want you to prove exactly how obsessed you are with me.”

Tagging a few moots. @marchsfreakshow @xxbimbobunnyxx @starkeysprincess @oceandriveab @oceanblvd111 @redhead1180 @rafescurtainbangz @drudyslut @gri959 @nemesyaaa @rafesthroatbaby @rafeinterlude @loserboysandlithium @usergeta @annoyingassleo

[pucksandpower]

Fit for a Queen

Stand-alone Charles Leclerc x Reader / Lewis Hamilton x Reader / Toto Wolff x Reader / Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: all the ways that you partner loves to spoil you (a compilation of unrelated stories)

Charles Leclerc: His and Hers

You’re parked by the side of a winding road, smoke pouring out from the hood of your old car. As you curse the bad timing, your phone lights up. It’s a call from your boyfriend.

“Hey mon ange, I saw on the tracker that you’ve stopped. Everything alright?”

You sigh, “Not really. My car has decided to give up on life. I’m stranded.”

There’s a brief pause. “Where are you?”

“I was driving back from that little cafe we love in Nice.”

“I’m on my way. Wait for me,” Charles says and before you can protest the line goes dead.

True to his word, in less than twenty minutes, a sleek black Ferrari pulls up in front of you. The window rolls down to reveal Charles’ concerned face. “Need a ride?” He teases.

You laugh, your worries momentarily forgotten. “Always showing off, aren’t you?”

He grins, “Get in.”

Over the next few days, he insists you borrow his Ferrari. “It suits you,” he often remarks with a wink. Every morning, you’re met with the thrill of driving that beast, the roar of the engine, the luxury of the leather seats, the admiring and envious looks from strangers.

It’s heady.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you return home to find Charles waiting for you in the garage. Parked next to his car is a red Ferrari 488 Pista, a striking stripe in the colors of your home country’s flag running down the middle.

“What’s this?” You ask, your heart racing.

“For you,” he replies with a smile. “Figured you needed an upgrade.”

You’re stunned. “Charles ... this is too much.”

He steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Nothing is too much for you. I love seeing the way your eyes light up when you drive. I wanted to give you that every day.”

Your eyes tear up, overwhelmed. “Thank you, mon amour.”

He pulls you in, his lips capturing yours as he presses you against the Ferrari. “How about we take it for a spin?” He murmurs against your lips. “And maybe ... christen the new car?”

A playful smirk tugs at your lips as you nod in agreement, “I can think of a few ways to show you how much I appreciate the gift.”

Lewis Hamilton: Knight in Shining Armor

“What do you mean they’re foreclosing?” Your voice trembles as you pace the living room of your boyfriend’s penthouse.

“I’m so sorry, my darling. We tried to keep up with the payments but after your father’s medical bills ... it just became too much.” Your mother’s voice is heavy with guilt and despair.

Tears sting your eyes. “We’ll figure something out. I promise.” You end the call, sliding down the wall to sit on the marble floor, overwhelmed.

A discreet cough interrupts your thoughts and you glance up to find Lewis standing in the doorway, looking concerned. You didn’t even see him come in. How much did he hear?

“Babe, are you okay?” He asks softly, approaching you.

You wipe away your tears, attempting to put on a brave face. “It’s just family stuff. I’ll handle it.”

Lewis crouches down in front of you, his fingers gently tilting your chin up. “Talk to me.”

Taking a deep breath, you explain, “My family’s house ... the bank is foreclosing on it. It’s the home I grew up in, Lew. All those memories ...”

He pulls you into his arms as you break down again despite your best efforts, “I’m so sorry.”

A few days pass and you’re doing your best to focus on finding a solution when Lewis calls you into his office. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlook Port Hercules but you barely notice, still lost in your churning thoughts. A series of documents are spread out on the desk.

“What’s all this?” You ask, curiosity piqued.

“Just take a look,” Lewis urges with a gentle smile.

You start reading and realization hits. The paperwork states that the mortgage on your family’s home has been fully paid off. You look up at Lewis, incredulous. “Did you ...”

He shrugs modestly, “I overheard your phone call. How could I not help? That house means the world to you. And all it took was a few phone calls to make sure your family could keep it.”

You’re speechless, tears of gratitude spilling over. “Lew, this is ... I can’t believe you did this for me.”

He reaches out, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “I love spoiling you but it’s not just about luxury trips or designer clothes. It’s about making sure you and your family are safe and happy. Knowing I’m the reason for the smile on your face … that’s the best gift I could ever ask for in return.”

You hug him tight, overwhelmed by his gesture, and bury your face in his neck. “Thank you. This means more than words can express.”

He kisses your forehead. “Anything for you, love.”

Toto Wolff: Still Bejeweled

The ornate chandeliers of the luxurious Parisian boutique cast reflections from the exquisite jewelry on display. Toto’s hand rests lightly on the small of your back as you peruse the selection, clearly lost in the artistry of each piece.

“That will look stunning on you,” Toto observes as you admire a necklace with delicate diamonds cascading down, each gleaming brighter than the last.

You laugh, “I haven’t even tried it on yet.”

His confident smirk remains. “Doesn’t matter. I can tell.”

On impulse, you ask the sales associate to let you try it on. As it settles around your neck, you can’t help but be mesmerized by its beauty.

Toto steps closer, appreciating the way it lays against your skin. “It’s perfect. Let’s take it.”

You feel a flutter of excitement but reality sets in. “How much is it?”

Toto immediately interjects, “It doesn't matter, we’ll—”

“€290,000. From the Pluie de Cartier collection,” the sales associate replies with a practiced smile.

Your heart sinks. It’s astronomical. You gently take the necklace off. “It’s beautiful but not for me.”

Toto looks at you, eyes filled with an earnest plea. “Let me get it for you.”

You shake your head firmly, “No, Toto. It’s too way much.”

He sighs, a mix of frustration and understanding. “You’re worth every penny and more.”

You smile, touched by his words. “I appreciate it but I’m just not comfortable with you spending that much money on me.”

He nods, respecting your wishes, but the disappointment in his eyes is evident. After browsing a bit more, the two of you make your way out of the store, the necklace you both fell in love with left behind.

Life with Toto is a whirlwind of races, galas, and stolen intimate moments. The necklace, though unforgettable, fades to the back of your mind.

One evening, after a particularly lovely dinner, Toto guides you to the master bedroom you both share. The city lights outside cast a gentle glow and at the foot of your bed is a small red box.

Curious, you open the embellished leather to find the same necklace you had admired weeks ago. Tears spring to your eyes as you spin around to face your partner.

“You didn’t …”

Toto kneels before you as your shaky legs collapse backwards to sit on the bed. “I know you said you didn’t want it. But every time I saw it, I imagined it on you. I saw the glimmer in your eyes when you tried it on. It’s where it belongs.”

You shiver as he takes the necklace from your hands and gently puts it around your neck, his fingers tracing your skin as he locks the clasps together. “Toto, I ... thank you.”

He smiles, placing a tender kiss on your lips. “I just want you to have everything your heart desires.”

You lean into his embrace, the feeling of truly being cherished sending warmth through your whole body. “I already do.”

Max Verstappen: Jet Setters

You’re reclined on the couch, leafing through a magazine with one hand while petting Sassy with the other, when a sudden craving strikes. That gelato from Milan, the one you have whenever you are there with Max for the Italian Grand Prix. The mere thought has your mouth watering.

Seeing your restless expression, Max puts down his tablet and raises an eyebrow. “You alright, schatje?”

You sigh dramatically, cradling your pregnant belly. “I’m craving that gelato we had in Milan. Nothing else will do.”

He chuckles, “Are you serious?”

You nod, trying to suppress a smile. “Very.”

Without missing a beat, Max picks up his phone. “Alright. Milan it is, then.”

You laugh, thinking he’s joking, but within hours, you’re aboard a private jet, Milan-bound. The luxurious interior, plush seats, and array of gourmet snacks would be the highlight for most but your mind is firmly stuck on that gelato.

As the jet descends, the sprawling Lombard countryside greets you. Max holds your hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin. “Anything for my girls,” he promises, placing a kiss on your forehead and then your belly.

The car waiting for you outside speeds through the crowded streets, bringing you to the familiar storefront in Centro Storico. The owner, recognizing you both, greets you with a wide smile and hands over multiple coolers filled with your favorite flavor that Max called ahead for.

Back on the jet, Milan a fading dot in the distance, you sit contentedly savoring each spoonful as Max watches with a tender smile on his face.

“You could have had any gelato in the world and you chose this one,” he teases.

You grin, “Just like I chose you.”

He leans in, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. “And I would fly with you to the ends of the earth just to keep that smile on your face.”

[rileyslibrary]

The Log Cabin: Hurt

Synopsis: You and Ghost are on your way towards your shared vacation in Scotland.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Notes:

This is the second part of the story. Here’s Part 1 if you’re interested.

Hurt/comfort.

Render by @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot.

No warnings. Lots of emotions towards the end, though.

———————————————————————

“You sure?” You ask as you approach a red light.

Ghost closes his eyes and leans back in his seat. He lets out a long and loud sigh behind his mask.

“This is the fifth time you’ve asked if I’m sure,” he protests. “Ask me again, and I will throw you out of the bloody car.”

He won’t do it. He used the exact same threat when you voiced your concerns the third time. You understand him, though; you’re not even on the highway yet, and you’ve been bugging him with your insecurities.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper and lower your head to the water bottle you’ve secured between your thighs.

He turns to look at you, then shifts his focus back to the road as the traffic light turns orange.

“I don’t do charity work when it comes to vacations,” he reassures you and changes gears. “I’m absolutely certain of my decision.”

You drive through the city streets, trying to reach the highway. You look out the car’s window; there are curious glances directed at you from the outside. People look alarmed, old ladies clutch their purses tighter, and fathers hold their children closer.

You can’t blame them; they’re looking at two masked figures in a car filled with tools and gear in the backseats.

“We look like we’re about to rob a bank, don’t you think?” You ask, concerned, as you observe a woman ushering her son into a store upon spotting you.

“Don’t take it off yet,” he warns you. “Wait till we get to the highway.”

He’s right. His face is unknown in the city, whereas yours is, and any identification could link him to you. That’s why he handed you a plain black balaclava before you left the base, ensuring your mutual anonymity. It’s a small city, after all.

“What if we get stopped by the police?” you ask. “Someone might have alerted them.”

He shakes his head. “Unlikely,” he replies. “The police is familiar with me and my car. Many soldiers keep their identities concealed due to the base. Civilians aren’t accustomed to it, that’s all.”

He stops at a zebra crossing and motions with his hand at the people waiting, giving them permission to cross the road.

“Look at them,” he whispers as he watches them successfully reaching the other side of the pavement. “So eager to display their faces, like they’ve never done anything sinister in their lives.”

You look at him from the corner of your eye, wondering if his words hide a twinge of guilt or envy—a yearning for freedom, just like those civilians crossing the street. They are free to walk as they please, while he is doomed to wear a cloth on his face until he’s away from anything human.

You tug at your mask. “It’s getting quite stuffy in here; mind if I...” you say and motion towards the car’s A/C controls.

He shrugs. That’s your “go ahead” sign.

You enter the highway, and he removes his mask. He reaches into the back pocket of his seat and tugs his balaclava there. He scratches his left cheek.

You follow his lead but tuck yours into your door’s side pocket. Now that your mouth is free from obstructions, you can drink water. You open the bottle and drive it into your mouth.

“Easy with the water,” Ghost advises. “We won’t find any stops for the next three hours.”

“Three hours?!” You ask.

He nods, his eyes still fixed on the road, indifferent to your shocked reaction. He reaches into the side pocket of his door and pulls a pair of sunglasses out. He secures them on his face.

“I have never seen you with sunglasses before.” You comment.

He smirks. He looks very handsome when he does that. Not conventionally attractive, though. He has a very rugged, almost weird, to point out beauty. Like those second-hand objects you find in an antique shop; they are bizarre to look at, but you can’t shift your eyes away from them. You want to study and analyse them as closely as possible.

You stare at his profile and notice him looking back at you. He still has that smirk on his face. You divert your attention back to the road.

“Sorry.” You murmur.

He looks ahead and his smile widens.

After some time, you reach your first stop; a service station with a convenience store, and fast food joint. Ghost asks if you want to grab a bite, and you shake your head. In response, he motions towards the side of the gas station.

“Loo’s over there. I’ll refuel the car.”

You hurry to the restroom; the last thing you want is to hinder his program. You better be as fast and efficient as possible.

When you return, Ghost is already in the driver’s seat. You settle into your seat beside him, apologising for your delay. He clicks his tongue.

“You went to the restroom; no need to fret.” He says as he hands you a few snacks he bought from the convenience store.

“For me?” you ask, surprised.

“For you,” he confirms and starts up the engine. “So you don’t start whining that you’re hungry when we are in the middle of nowhere.”

The rest of the trip is beautiful. The landscape shifts profoundly, from the mundane colours of the city to the towering trees that grow denser, with hues of green more vibrant than any photo could capture. The radio plays some mainstream pop music, which doesn’t suit the scenery but makes everything less awkward between you.

Occasionally, you spot a flock of sheep and comment. Ghost doesn’t respond but shifts his gaze from the road to where you’re pointing so he can give you his full attention. He smiles every time, and you wonder whether he’s genuinely happy or just trying to act friendly. Then again, when did Ghost ever try to act friendly? He’s enjoying it as well.

You must have reached the outskirts of civilisation now since the radio has started to make white noise. He switches it off.

Silence. Awkward silence.

“Sorry.” He says, which is very ironic since he was the one who lectured you a few hours ago to stop apologising for things you can’t control. “I don’t have any CDs.”

An arrogant chuckle escapes you. You didn’t mean to come across that way, but there’s no need for CDs; although the car isn’t new, it has built-in Bluetooth. You wonder if he knows it.

“Do you mind?” You ask, showing him your phone.

He looks at it, raising an eyebrow from behind his sunglasses. He must be thinking you’re asking for permission to call someone.

You connect your phone to the car’s Bluetooth and launch Spotify. Music starts playing again. His attention alternates between the radio and your phone.

“Why don’t you look at that!” He remarks. “I knew you could do that; I just never bothered to figure out how.”

“I’ll show you later.” You reply.

“Do you take requests?”

You nod and smile. “What’s your poison, Lieutenant?”

“Johnny Cash.” He replies. “Hurt.”

You nod again, search for the song and press play. You try to enjoy the scenery, focusing on the trees and farms passing by, but Simon’s choice of song wraps around you.

“I hurt myself today

To see if I still feel

I focus on the pain

The only thing that’s real.”

You turn to look at him. He holds the wheel with one hand, his other resting on the car’s window. He leans against it, his face propped on his hand.

“And you could have it all

My empire of dirt

I will let you down

I will make you hurt.”

You want to comment on the song, but your throat feels tight like something’s choking you. You swallow hard.

“What have I become?

My sweetest friend

Everyone I know goes away

In the end.”

Tears fill your eyes, threatening to escape. You don’t have sunglasses like Ghost does. It’s a matter of time until he notices.

“If I could start again

A million miles away

I would keep myself

I would find a way.”

It’s sadness, melancholy—that's what you’re feeling. But is it for Ghost and his poor song choice? Or is it for you?

For your family, your friends, and the vacation you won’t get to enjoy with them? Who are you mourning exactly? He seems to be at peace with his choices. When will this bliss come to you?

Will it ever come to you?

“Hey,” he calls out, and you turn to look at him.

Too late; he already noticed.

“It’s okay,” he soothes you. “Let it out.”

As if you wanted his permission, you begin to cry uncontrollably. You gasp for air. Ghost presses a button on his door which forces your window to open slightly. The crisp air slaps your face, but you focus on the pain, just like the song says. Your nails bite into your palms as you squeeze your fists, and that water bottle falls from your legs onto the car’s floor.

Ghost reaches over, turning the volume higher as if he’s permitting you to cry as much as you want and scream as loud as you please. You turn your head to the side, looking through blurred vision at the colours of green blending together.

He clasps your fist in his hand. You refuse to relax it.

“It’s okay.” He repeats as you pass the blue sign marked with a white ‘X’ that welcomes you to Scotland. “It’s going to be okay.”

Your first unclenches and you open your hand.

———————————————————————

Part 3 (final) this way ->

[blackpoolhistory]

A 1938 view up Red Bank Road, Bispham, looking towards the Promenade.

[rabbitcruiser]

Hwy 128 Colorado River Scenic Byway, UT (No. 6)

An agreement was reached in 1984 between the Grand County Commission and the Utah Department of Transportation (UDOT) to balance the conflicting public demands to retire and preserve the aging bridge. As part of this agreement, UDOT would commission a new bridge and once finished, transfer ownership of the original bridge back to Grand County. Grand County agreed to petition to have the bridge be included in the National Register of Historic Places, assume maintenance and guarantee the bridge would be preserved. The nomination was approved and the bridge was added to the National Register of Historic Places on July 12, 1984. In 1988, the replacement bridge was completed, and the title deed to the Dewey Bridge was handed over to the county in 1989. Grand County completed a restoration project in 2000.

After being replaced for automobile use, the Dewey Bridge was used by the Kokopelli trail, a bicycle trail, and a pedestrian trail. The east approach to the bridge features an abandoned gas station and the ghost town of Dewey. The west approach has been converted to a rest area and park.

On April 6, 2008, a seven-year-old boy accidentally started a fire in a nearby campground while playing with matches. The fire moved up the riverbank and destroyed the bridge's wooden deck and rails. The county funded a study to determine the feasibility and cost of reconstructing the bridge. The engineers determined that the steel cables and towers most likely did not suffer structural damage and could be reused. The study estimated reconstruction costs at $850,000. The engineers determined the original blueprints, preserved in a museum, were of sufficient quality that only minimal engineering work would be required. The county agreed to direct the effort, but will not fund it with taxpayer money, and no progress has occurred. As replicas do not qualify for historical status, historians are debating if using the original towers and cable is enough for the structure to qualify as historical.

Though the Colorado River runs for over 400 miles (640 km) in Utah, there are only three sites with bridges to cross it. One is the Dewey Bridge site where SR-128 traverses the waterway; the other two are an unnamed bridge that carries US-191 (built in 1911, replaced in 1955 and again in 2010) and the Hite Crossing Bridge (built in 1966) used by SR-95.

Source: Wikipedia

[soliloquent-stark]

hey liv!! do u have any stevetony fic recs??

hi!! thank you for asking me this!

because — do i have stevetony fic recs?... OH DO I?!?

i had to really hold back A LOT because i have hundreds of recommendations in my bookmarks, but here are some of my favourites. this post would be insanely long if i included tags, warnings, or summaries, so i hope the categories help a bit but make sure to only read what you're comfortable with as there are plenty of angsty and smutty fics :)

thank you to all of the authors for your wonderful work; you're so appreciated!

it's a bit arbitrary but i considered 'long' anything over 15k

stevetony fic recs masterpost!

short fics — gen/teen

this is our place, we make the rules by @areiton

Forgive The Winters, Keep No Records by @carsonian 

May This Be Love by lellabeth

i would always be yours by @tinystark616 

One Final Surprise by @carsonian

i'll be by your side (when you cry, cry, cry). by frostfall

don't dream it's over by @robertdowneyjjr

submerge me in your will by captainstars (@capnstars)

Paper planes are meant to fly by masterlokisev159

Motherlode by nanasekei

the perfect blend by @downeylove, @robertdowneyjjr

for better or for worse by @earliebirb

the depths of some divine despair by @meidui

Atlas by nanasekei

There he was, like double cherry pie by Wolfsheart (@mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea)

short fics — explicit/mature

The Longing and Yearning by @sineala

always winter, always spring by Mizzy

there are still beautiful things by @meidui

and so begins by romanoff

this love came back to me by @meidui

love can do some damage by parkrstark

my pain fits in the palm of your hand by @meidui

Patriarch by spqr 

In This Valley of Strange Humors by jellybeanforest 

seven years in heaven by @meidui

long fics — gen/teen

Paved With Good Intentions (I'm on the road to hell) by itsallAvengers (@intelligentbees)

the things we invent when we are scared by nanasekei 

Clouds Over A Century Sky by @suitofhumour

Taking the Plunge, a Stitch at a Time by janonny

Nobody Panic, Everything's Fine by itsallAvengers (@intelligentbees)

long fics — explicit/mature

you'll remember me by @areiton

almeno tu nell'universo by @silkspectred

Slipping off the Page into Your Hands by @sineala

All of Your Lonely Sieges by whenasinsilks

Where Our Restless Monsters Sleep by Mizzy

Drawn to You by jellybeanforest

do you fondue? by calciseptine

The Devil in Us All by @sineala

Keep Boredom at Bay by @kandisheek

Of things lost in time by erde (orphan_account) 

The Northern Cascades by @resurrectedhippo

Only Natural to Harden Up by @carsonian

Operation Spank Bank by @fohatic

don't know why it took me so long to see by goodmorningbeloved (3799steps)

the girl with the modern face by @isozyme

I Wanted It To Be You by complicationstoo (@ifmywishescametrue)

Falling For You (Hook, Line, and Sinker) by @festiveferret

Last Stop Before Malibu by justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday) (@therollingstonys)

Under God by @isozyme

Thrust Issues by @sineala

Indulgence by @festiveferret, One and Five Nines (Obani)

A Guiding Hand by @kandisheek

down the rabbit hole by @starvels (dinosaur)

There's an App for That by Annie D (scaramouche) (@no-gorms)

(what is hate) but jilted love by LemonGrenade

He Knows More Than You Do by @chibisquirt

with a decent happiness by torigates

Throw a Little Hot Rod Red in There by @festiveferret, SirSapling

seaside lovers by @areiton

[phoward89]

Masterlist

Stepcest, Stepson!Coryo x Stepmother!Reader, Sub!Coriolanus, Switch!Reader, Crassus Snow x Younger!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Crassus Snow is a cold hearted asshole, but he's a hot asshole... Stepcest, older man/younger woman, arranged marriage, cheating, affairs, secrets, cussing, secret love child, Coryo is a bit selfish and too ambitious, Crassus decides to try and be a better husband/father, breakups

Part 8:

The backseat of the car feels like it's closing in on you as Alexios, your driver, pulls away from the curb. Your chest tightens and you feel so overwhelmed. Your emotions are getting the better of you and before you can stop it, you break down in tears. Sobs violently wrack your body as your mind keeps thinking about being betrayed by Coriolanus.

Your loud cries have a negative effect on your son, Cassian. The baby starts crying as a result of hearing your loud sobs. Cassian's wails get louder and louder as the chauffeur steers the car out of the high-end shopping district of Capitol City.

Alexios looks back at you and the baby via the rearview mirror and he can't help, but to be concerned. You're both crying and he’s not sure what to do. Should he keep driving? Should he ask if you're okay? Nothing happened that he's aware of to trigger off your crying jag. Your driver/bodyguard is inwardly panicking because he has no idea why you're having a meltdown in the back of the car. A meltdown that's causing your baby to fuss loudly as well.

Looking between the road and the rearview mirror, the driver hesitantly asks, “Mrs. Snow, are you alright?”

Hearing your baby's wailing paired with the driver's inquiry of your well being snaps you out of your tears. Your son needs you to calm him down; to soothe him, so you quickly take a deep breath and wipe the tears from your eyes. “I'm fine, Alexios. Just a bit tired and overwhelmed from shopping with the baby.” You lie to your driver while moving a shaky hand to comfort your crying son.

Alexios nods, only to assure you, “We'll be at the penthouse in a few minutes.”

You thank him while soothing your son. The rest of the ride home didn't take long; you managed to comfort Cassian and get him to calm down before the car even pulled up to the curb of your building.

“Ma’am, where would you like me to place your shopping bags?” Alexios asks while helping you and your son out of the car.

“You can put them in the master bedroom.” You told your driver as he shut the car door and popped the trunk.

Pulling Cassian's pram out of the trunk, your chauffeur told you, “I'd be more comfortable placing the bags in the foyer or the main room, Mrs. Snow.” Unfolding the pram and gesturing for you to place the baby in it, Alexios proclaimed, “The master bedroom is your husband's domain as a man, not mine.”

“Okay, then place the bags in the foyer and I'll bring them into the master bedroom once I'm done putting Cassian down for his nap.” You tell the driver while placing your son into his pram.

Once your son's settled in the pram, you wheel him over to the large double doors of your building’s lobby. The driver's right behind you, only to hold the door open for you to walk inside. As you head towards the elevator bank, Alexios goes to retrieve your endless number of shopping bags from the trunk of the car.

You feel a bit tense as you wait for the elevator to arrive. You know that you have to keep it together for your son; that you can't have another breakdown like the one you succumbed to in the car, but it's easier said than done. You feel so heartbroken, helpless, and lost. Coriolanus made you out to be a fool. He played you like a fiddle, making you believe every word he said.

But now…

Well…

Now that you caught him red handed with another woman (Livia Cardew of all people!) you know that things are over between the two of you. You can't carry on with him; put your own rocky marriage in jeopardy when Coryo doesn't truly value you or your love.

The ding of the elevator doors sliding open breaks you from your mental musings. Quickly, you wheel Cassian's pram into the elevator. And much to your surprise, your driver's right behind you with an ungodly amount of bags hanging from his limbs. In fact, he's carrying so many shopping bags that he looks like a Christmas tree covered in ornaments, garland, and tinsel.

“Are those all of my bags?” You ask, taken aback on the amount of bags being toted by Alexios.

“Yes, Mrs. Snow, these are all of your bags.” Alexios confirms while you press the buttons to close the door and for the 12th floor.

Grandma'am was still taking her afternoon nap whenever you entered the penthouse. You also realized that you're alone; that Coriolanus was still out- most likely with that Cardew shrew. Good, not like you're in the mood to deal with him right now anyways.

You parked the pram in the foyer and took Cassian out of it, all the while Alexios was setting down a pile of bags by the front door of the penthouse. You thanked your driver for his help before bringing Cassian to his nursery for a feeding and his late afternoon nap.

Cassian has a hearty appetite, so you didn't have any problems nursing him. In fact, the baby ate eagerly. He also went to sleep almost instantly after his meal. For being a couple of weeks old he truly was a good baby. Didn't fuss too much; was easy to tend to.

Once the baby was down, you brought all of the shopping bags to your master bedroom. Somehow, while unpacking the bags, you managed to hold it together. Well, you're still an emotional wreck while hanging up the clothes you bought, but at least you're not crying your eyes out anymore.

But you can't afford another crying jag, you have a baby depending on you to take care of him. You have to be strong and push your feelings of hurt and betrayal aside in order to be the best possible mother you can be to Cassian.

And when you brought the few bags full of Cassian's items to the nursery to put them away, you're tense.

Very tense.

You manage to put all of Cassian's new outfits and toys up without shedding a single tear. But, you're wound tighter than an 8 day clock tho. You're very on edge, all because of what you accidently discovered this afternoon at the coffee shop.

You can't help, but to wonder if you did something wrong to make Coriolanus seek out that bitch, Livia Cardew. Maybe you should've pushed aside your emotional discomfort and just given him a couple of blowjobs? Then maybe he'd still be faithful to you. But, if not being able to fuck fo 6 weeks is the reason why he's cheating then maybe the relationship’s fickle; wasn't as strong and loving on his end- like he claims it to be.

You're broken out of your thoughts by Grandma'am’s voice echoing out in the penthouse with the simple question of, “Y/N, dear, are you home?”

“Yes, Grandma'am, I'm home. I'm just finishing up putting Cassian's things away.” You call back, assuring your mother-in-law that you're fine.

“I'll be waiting for you in the main room, dear.” Grandma'am told you, so you wouldn't be searching the entire house for her.

And a few minutes later you walk into the main room with a hatbox in your hands. “I got you something, Grandma'am.” You announce, coming up to the elderly woman that's become more of a mother to you then your own mother.

“Oh, Y/N, you didn't have to do that.” Grandma'am lightly protested with a soft smile as you placed the hatbox onto her lap.

Taking a seat next to her, you explain, “I know, but I wanted to get you something as a thank you for being supportive during my pregnancy and baby blues.”

Nodding, she lifts the lid of the box. She lets out a tiny gasp upon seeing a gold satin turban with a gold and diamond sun broach in the middle twisted part. Pulling the beautiful turban out of the box, she gratefully smiles, “Thank you, dear. It's beautiful and I can't wait to wear it.”

“I was hoping that you'd like it.” You admitted to Grandma'am as she placed the turban back in the box; setting it aside.

“Did you get something for Crassus?”

Of course she'd ask you that…

With a sigh, you shake your head and admit, “No, I didn't know what to get him.”

Grandma'am pats your hand while assuring you, “Next time we'll go shopping together; find something real nice for that son of mine you call your husband.”

You smile and nod, silently thanking her.

Crassus came home about 15 minutes before dinner, as was his routine now, and took a seat in the living room with you. Grandma'am, like she does every night, excused herself to go inquire about dinner from the cook. She did that every night when Crassus arrived in order to give you, him, and the baby some family time.

Coriolanus came home about an hour earlier and went straight to his room after giving both you and Grandma'am a curt greeting. In fact, you're dreading having to eat dinner with him tonight. A part of you wishes that he didn't come home at all, that he stayed out. But, of course, that wish went unfulfilled.

Anyways, once Crassus was sitting with you in the main room he went about the routine he created for the two of you. He asked about your day while watching Cassian nearby in his baby swing. And, of course, you told your husband about your shopping trip with the baby. But you left out the part about running into Coriolanus at the coffee shop, he didn't need to know about that.

Crassus thought that an afternoon shopping would've made you a bit happier than you were. He noticed that you're a bit tense; it's concerning because you seemed to be in a good mood lately. He decides that he'll ask your driver if you ran into anyone or if anything happened while on your shopping trip.

“Perhaps next time you go shopping mother can go with you?” Crassus suggested while subtly eying the clock to see if it was close to dinner time yet.

“Oh, I already talked to her about it and we agreed that we'll go shopping together with Cassian next time.” You tell Crassus, earning an approving smile from him.

“I’m glad that you're getting along with mother, Petal.” Crassus admitted right as Coriolanus walked out of the hallway and into the main room with a pissy look painted on his face.

“Is dinner ready yet?” Coriolanus asked, his eyes narrowed at how close you're sitting with his father. Hmm…seems like he's jealous? But he doesn't have a right to be since he has Livia now.

“Grandma'am went to check a few moments ago.” You told your once lover, tone a bit tight.

“Sit down and wait, Coriolanus. It won't be much longer now.” Crassus ordered his firstborn.

“It better not be, father. I have a study group to attend in half an hour.” Coriolanus grumbled while taking a seat. One as far away from you and his father as he could be.

“Isn't that a bit late for a study group, son?” Crassus asked, his blonde brow arched up.

Yes, wasn't it? Well, the study group was actually a meet up with Festus and Hilarious at Pluribus’ club, but Crassus and you didn't need to know that. Coriolanus feels that you two thinking he's at a study group makes himself look better and more mature. That if you knew he had time for the club and not for you, well…But you can't blame him, he's a young man with needs. Needs that you're not fulfilling at the moment.

Coriolanus never was a choirboy and is only loyal to one person, himself.

“I'm meeting up with Festus and Hilarious to study for our finals. We decided to meet up after dinner since everyone has different schedules.”

“Ah…” Crassus nods. “Since when do the three of you have such taxing schedules?” Your husband countered your stepson, causing the younger blonde to look like he's about to swallow his teeth.

But before Coriolanus could reply, Grandma'am strolls into the room with the announcement of, “The cook’s ready to serve dinner.”

Well, looks like dinner saved Coriolanus from having to pull a believable lie out of his ass.

Dinner was quiet, but tense. Crassus picked it up right away that you seem upset about something. Also, the way that Coriolanus keeps giving you hard glances here and there makes him believe that something's wrong. That something happened.

The war hero truly believes that something transpired between you and his son. Why else would Coriolanus be eying you with a hardness in his baby blues? Any other time his son's giving you pathetic puppy dog eyes. But not tonight.

Grandma'am’s eating her roasted chicken while ignoring the awkward silence in the dining room. You don't get to be her age without learning to ignore a thing or two, including awkwardness at meals. As long as the uncomfortable silence doesn't turn into an argument that'll ruin her dinner, Grandma'am is totally fine with eating and ignoring the big elephant in the room.

Crassus on the other hand isn't the type to ignore the big elephant in the room. Unlike his mother, he's not putting a doily on the elephant in the room’s butt and acting like it's not there. No, the general's going to approach it.

Turning his attention to you, Crassus asks, “Is something wrong, Petal? You seem a bit tense.”

“Oh, nothing's wrong. Really, I'm fine, just a bit tired from shopping this afternoon.” You lie because you can't tell your husband the truth. No, he'd never understand that you're tense and agitated because you caught his son, who you've been having an affair with, cheating on you while out at a coffee shop. Yea…that'd go over like a lead balloon…

“Alright, as long as you're fine I won't pry.” Crassus told you despite every fiber of his being begging him to pry.

But he'll drop the matter for now, only because he senses that you're not comfortable speaking about it- or should he say around his son. Crassus decides that he'll ask your driver, Alexios, about your outting tomorrow. Surely your driver/bodyguard has an insight on what's troubling you. And if not, well…he doesn't want to think about that possibility.

Coriolanus' icy eyes dart over to your form, gazing at you harshly. Almost as if he's silently daring you to bring up the subject of him being rather cozy with Livia Cardew in the local coffee shop. It's as if he wants you to acknowledge your pain, your broken heart at seeing him with somebody else, at the dinner table; in front of his father, Crassus. But you won't give him the satisfaction. In fact, you refuse to meet his gaze and opt to stare down at your plate instead.

Crassus noticed how his son's hard glances at you are making you nervous; are causing you to stare at your plate while picking at your food with your tightly clenched fork. He doesn't like what these tiny details are implying. How they're making light of a pressing suspicion he's had about Coriolanus and you for a while now.

Looking at his gold Rolex on his wrist, Crassus pretends to be concerned about his son's plans. “Coriolanus, shouldn't you be going soon?” Looking at his younger doppelganger, he says, “You don't want to be late for your study group, do you?”

Looking down at his own wrist watch, Coriolanus nods. “Yes, I should get going.” Putting his fork down, he apologizes properly for his sudden departure with a charming, “I'm so sorry to be rushing off in the middle of our meal, but I have a study group with Festus Creed and Hilarious Heavensbee that's due to start soon and I don't want to be late.”

“Oh, Coriolanus, don't you worry. You go on and tend to your studies.” Grandma'am said in a tone that showed she was proud of her grandson's studious nature. If only she knew the truth about his ‘study group'.

“Don't stay out too late studying, Coriolanus.” Crassus told his son as the younger blonde stood from the table. It was evident in the stern, deep tone of his voice that Crassus' remark had a double meaning to it.

Coriolanus clearly picked up on the double edged sword that was his father's words. So much so, that he just nodded as scurried off. Secretly, Coriolanus feared that his father had figured out that he was hanging out at the club; would tell you about it. That's the last thing he wants you to know. It's bad enough that you accidentally stumbled upon him and Livia on a coffee date, but if you found out about his clubbing…well…

Coriolanus fears that he won't be able to successfully lie his way out of that. No, not with you acting all out of sorts lately.

But does that slight fear stop him from taking off to meet up with Festus and Hilarious? No, no it doesn't.

While Coriolanus was living it up at the club with his friends, Festus and Hilarious, you were at home spending a quiet evening with Grandma'am, Crassus, and Cassian. You played a couple hands of gin rummy with Grandma'am before going to the nursery to check on the baby. And once Grandma'am retired to bed, you spent some time with your husband.

It wasn't much, just watching some talent show on CapitolTV and then the news before heading to bed. The atmosphere was quiet, but heavy between you and Crassus as you got ready for bed. He didn't bring it up, knowing you'd probably wave off his inquiry, but it did bother him.

Crassus thought that he was making progress with you; that he was making you happy. But now…well…he's not sure anymore. You seem to be tense and weighed down by something. Something that wasn't bothering you before and he doesn't like it.

He walks out of the large walk-in closet, donning his navy silk pajamas, and makes his way to your shared bed. He gets into it only to wait for you to emerge from your side of the closet. And when you do walk out of it, Crassus can't help, but to notice how motherhood has matured you- has given you softer curves and fuller breasts. He notices that, although you're so much younger then him, you have a womanly glow about you as your silky nightgown hugs your body in all the right places.

How has he never noticed this before? Was he truly so wrapped up in work, stuck in his own head, that he never noticed the beauty that you, his wife, truly is? Crassus prides himself on being a calculated and tactful man, but it seems when it comes to you he's anything but.

You don't notice your husband's icy blue eyes melting as they follow your every move while you cross the room, taking your silk robe that matches your nightgown to drape over your vanity bench- something you do every night in order to easily grab it whenever you need to leave the room to check on the baby, etc. But why would you notice the way Crassus is looking at you; that it's different then every other night? Softness isn't something that's easily found between you and your husband. The fact that he's starting to feel something for you doesn't register to you, but why would it? It's not like he's ever made any intentions of wanting more than a surface level marriage.

“Come to bed, Petal.” Crassus orders, folding over your side of the duvet for you.

Turning away from your vanity, you simply tell him, “I'll be right there, Crassus.”

Your husband watches you as you make your way over to bed. His eyes roam over your body as the bed dips slightly while you get into it. As he does every night, he gives you a lingering peck on the lips while saying, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Crassus.” You reply, as soon as the kiss ends, before laying down and pulling the duvet up around your shoulders.

You feel your husband settle next to you, only for him to switch off the lamp on his bedside table; engulfing the room in darkness. You stare at the wall in the dark, listening to your husband's breathing grow shallow as he falls asleep. Crassus is a light sleeper, but he usually falls asleep rather quickly.

You're secretly waiting for the sound of the front door opening paired with the faint echo of Coriolanus’ Florsheims clunking against the floor because you need to confront him about what you saw in the coffee shop this afternoon. You can't let it go. You need to tell him how you feel. You need…closure.

You're not sure how long you've been staring at the wall in the dark for whenever you finally hear Coryo get in. Your breath hitches and your heart seizes tightly in your chest. It's finally time to confront your stepson.

You gingerly pull aside your blanket and slowly rise from the bed, careful not to wake your husband. You look over your shoulder, seeing that Crassus is still asleep, before rushing to grab your rob from your vanity bench. Quickly, you toss it on and leave your master bedroom.

Your bare feet patter against the marble floor as you make your way down the hallway towards Coriolanus' room. When you reach it, you don't even knock- just open the door and walk right in.

You're met with the sight of a disheveled Coriolanus. His button up shirt's a bit wrinkled, fly of his pants is undone, his pale skin’s flushed, platinum blonde curls are messy, and his baby blues slightly glassy. Clearly, he wasn't out studying. The faint smell of liquor, posca to be precise, emitting from his pores is proof that he was out at the club with Festus and Hilarious instead of at a study group with the boys.

Seeing you standing before him in his room in your robe and nightgown brings a cocky, lustful grin to his face. Coriolanus feels like the cat that got the cream, seeing you enter his room right after he got home proves to him that you've been up all night waiting for him. That you still want him; need him.

But Coriolanus is wrong about that. So very very wrong.

You keep a considerable distance between you and the younger Snow while announcing, “We need to talk, Coriolanus.”

“Oh, mommy, we both know you didn't come here just to ‘talk’.” Coriolanus coos, moving to close the distance between you.

You back away from him before his outstretched hand can touch you, causing a frown to form on his face. But before he can ask what's wrong, you bombard him with the reason why you came. The million dollar question of, “How long have you been cheating on me with Livia Cardew for, Coriolanus?”

Coriolanus blanched, as if you just threw a pot of boiling hot water in his face. How dare you ask him that? He's declared his love for you, hasn't he? Cemented it by giving you his child, right? So, shouldn't you be lovingly opening your arms for him; taking care of his needs? You shouldn't be asking him about Livia Cardew, it's not your place to ask.

Oh, and he's going to let you know that too.

Coriolanus’ brows furrow deeply as he sharply tells you, “Don't worry about Livia Cardew, she's nothing to you, mommy.”

“I'm not stupid, Coriolanus. I have eyeballs, I saw you two pawing all over each other at Sweet Brew.”

“We weren't pawing all over each other, we were studying for a class.”

“Oh, so is that what you call your dates and outings these days? Studying?” You sarcastically asked him. Shaking your head, you scoff, “I heard what you said to her, Coriolanus. You called her ‘my darling’.”

“Y/N, I think you're overreacting-” Coriolanus began to say, only for you to cut him off with a frantic, “I'm not overreacting. You're cheating on me and I'm done.”, while angrily waving your hands in the air.

A scowl crossed the blonde's face. “What do you mean you're done?”

Did he really just ask you that?

Folding your arms over your chest, you give him the answer of, “You're cheating on me with that bitch, Livia, so we're over.”

“Livia means nothing to me, but you do, mommy. We can't be over.”

“We're over and done, Coriolanus.”

“And what? You think my father suddenly cares about you-” Flinging his arm in the general direction of the nursery, Coriolanus barks, “about Cassian?” His cerulean eyes turned into dark soulless stones as he snarled, “My father will never care about, let alone love you and the baby. He's just bored; amusing himself by toying with you. But he'll grow tired of it; go back to ignoring you.” His lush lips curled up cruelly as he added in, “And he'll do it to our son too.”

Coriolanus' words cut deep. They also wound your already fragile soul. But if that wasn't enough, the final blow to your shattered heart was when he told you in a sickeningly sweet, syrupy tone, “When my father tosses you aside like trash you'll be crawling back to me on your knees, begging me for a crumb of attention.” His face, once so angelic, morphs into an unreadable mask as he taunts, “But I don't know if I'll take pity on you, the mother of my child: my son, when that day comes.” A dark chuckle sounds deep in the back of his throat. “You say you're done with me because of what you think you saw between Livia Cardew and I, so I'm not sure if I'll be able to be a fool in love for you once again when the time comes that you realize your mistake in choosing my father over me.”

Hot, salty tears are rolling down your cheeks profusely. His cruel words has you crying so badly that your vision's blurry. How can Coriolanus claim to love you, but turn around and act like this? Say such hurtful things?

“Stop crying, Y/N.” Coriolanus snaps out in frustration. “All you ever do anymore is cry. I'm quite sick of it.”

Hastily wiping your tears away with your hands, you tell him, “I'm sorry you're sick of my crying, but I can't help it.” You feel as if you need to leave, as if you'll suffocate if you stay in the room with him any longer. Taking a few calming breaths, you say, “I'm done, Coriolanus. I hope you treat Livia better than me.”, before rushing out of the room.

You're lucky that the argument between you and Coriolanus didn't echo throughout the hallway, waking Crassus and Cassian- who are both light sleepers. But, when you return to your master bedroom and get back into bed, your movements stir your husband. He groggily asks about the baby and you assure him that everything’s fine; to go back to sleep.

But everything's not fine. No, right now you're suffering from a broken heart. First love and first heartbreaks sure do have a way of draining the life out of somebody's soul, that's for sure.

Your husband doesn't need to know that though. The less Crassus knows of your shame the better.

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[best-overplayed-song]

fun facts

about "Old Town Road", Lil Nas X said: "with a lot of my music before “Old Town Road,” I was just trying to make music I thought everybody wanted. I changed the meaning of it later on down the road from a runaways type of story to Old Town Road being a symbol for a path of success, where you’re just staying on it. The horse, me not having too much to work with, but getting to where you’re trying to go. It’s like, “I’m gonna take my horse to the old town road.” In the first verse, you’re getting everything packed up and ready to go. In the second verse, you’re in that lane now where everything’s going right. In the chorus, “Can’t nobody tell me nothin,” it was like a jab to my parents in a way. Wanting me to not really stop doing music, but to get back into school.”

According to Dolly Parton, "Jolene" was inspired by a red-headed bank clerk who flirted with her husband Carl Dean at his local bank branch around the time they were newly married.

Jolene’s name is based on that of a young fan who came on stage for her autograph: "I said, ‘You’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen. What is your name?’ And she said, ‘Jolene.’…I said, ‘That’s the prettiest name I’ve ever heard. I’m going to write a song about you'"

listen i know that the only thing these songs have in common is they're both country but after matching up all the other songs these were the last two without a good match so i had to put them together. sorry