#directional signs in Atlanta
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Interesting Facts I Bet You Never Knew About Directional Signs
Making sure customers have a pleasant experience in your store or office is important for running a successful business. Having loyal customers means having a steady stream of business and profit. So, how does one build a positive customer experience?
Customer Service Through Wayfinding Signs
Wayfinding or directional signs are one of the best ways to ensure customers are at ease when they are in your space. These signs are used to make it easy for customers to find their way to your facility. They help customers avoid getting lost and upset while doing business with you.
Overall, these signs allow for a more seamless and efficient customer experience
Benefits of Custom Directional Signs
Wayfinding signs do not only function to ensure customers don’t feel lost when they visit your store or office. Let’s take a look at the many ways these can benefit your business in Atlanta, GA:
Easy Directions
Wayfinding custom signs primarily function as a way to help customers find their way inside your space. This makes them save time running around in circles trying to find their way, especially if they are first-time visitors.
2. Site Marker
One of the other functions of wayfinding signage is marking the location of a certain part of your store or office. An example is hanging signs that show where the produce section or check out counters are inside a supermarket. This makes it easy for customers to know where to go when they see the sign.
3. Flow of Traffic
Shopping centers or large buildings that are often busy or have high-volume foot traffic benefit from custom directional signs. These signs allow for a more organized flow of traffic within your space.
This promotes a more efficient and comfortable experience for both customers and employees alike.
4. Customer Safety
One value of directional signage is marking emergency routes in and around your facility. Properly marked exits and signs that let customers know where to go in an emergency is essential. This facilitates a more organized and safe way to exit your building.
5. Branding
Directional custom signs can also add value to your business by enhancing your brand. Instead of generic signs, customize your signs to reflect your brand theme or color schemes.
Seeing your brand consistently around your store or office encourages recall that can be helpful to your business in the long run.
6. Excellent Customer Service
Adding wayfinding signage is a very subtle way to provide excellent customer service. It gets rid of the hassle of having to keep asking someone for assistance.
This promotes a more efficient and seamless experience that customers will definitely appreciate.
The Best Sign Partner in Atlanta, GA
Whether you are a small business or large industry, wayfinding custom signs are essential to your business. If you need a full-service company that can deliver high-quality signage for you, our team at BlackFire Signs is here to help.
We want to help you build a more positive customer experience through directional signage! Contact us today for a free quote.
Source: https://www.blackfiresigns.com/6-reasons-why-every-business-needs-directional-signs/
#directional signs#wayfinding signage#arrow signs#wayfinding signs#custom directional signs#directional signs for business#directional signs in Atlanta
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twitter thread by Mouin Rabbani
March 14, 2024
Who was there first? The short answer is that the question is irrelevant. Claims of ancient title (“This land is ours because we were here several thousand years ago”) have no standing or validity under international law.
For good reason, because such claims also defy elementary common sense. Neither I nor anyone reading this post can convincingly substantiate the geographical location of their direct ancestors ten or five or even two thousand years ago.
If we could, the successful completion of the exercise would confer exactly zero property, territorial, or sovereign rights.
As a thought experiment, let’s go back only a few centuries rather than multiple millennia. Do South Africa’s Afrikaners have the right to claim The Netherlands as their homeland, or even qualify for Dutch citizenship, on the basis of their lineage?
Do the descendants of African-Americans who were forcibly removed from West Africa have the right to board a flight in Atlanta, Port-au-Prince, or São Paolo and reclaim their ancestral villages from the current inhabitants, who in all probability arrived only after – perhaps long after – the previous inhabitants were abducted and sold into slavery half a world away?
Do Australians who can trace their roots to convicts who were involuntarily transported Down Under by the British government have a right to return to Britain or Ireland and repossess homes from the present inhabitants even if, with the help of court records, they can identify the exact address inhabited by their forebears? Of course not.
In sharp contrast to, for example, Native Americans or the Maori of New Zealand, none of the above can demonstrate a living connection with the lands to which they would lay claim.
To put it crudely, neither nostalgic attachment nor ancestry, in and of themselves, confer rights of any sort, particularly where such rights have not been asserted over the course of hundreds or thousands of years.
If they did, American English would be the predominant language in large parts of Europe, and Spain would once again be speaking Arabic.
Nevertheless, the claim of ancient title has been and remains central to Zionist assertions of not only Jewish rights in Palestine, but of an exclusive Jewish right to Palestine.
For the sake of argument, let’s examine it. If we put aside religious mythology, the origin of the ancient Israelites is indeed local.
In ancient times it was not unusual for those in conflict with authority or marginalized by it to take to the more secure environment of surrounding hills or mountains, conquer existing settlements or establish new ones, and in the ultimate sign of independence adopt distinct religious practices and generate their own rulers. That the Israelites originated as indigenous Canaanite tribes rather than as fully-fledged monotheistic immigrants or conquerors is more or less the scholarly consensus, buttressed by archeological and other evidence. And buttressed by the absence of evidence for the origin stories more familiar to us.
It is also the scholarly consensus that the Israelites established two kingdoms, Judah and Israel, the former landlocked and covering Jerusalem and regions to the south, the latter (also known as the Northern Kingdom or Samaria) encompassing points north, the Galilee, and parts of contemporary Jordan. Whether these entities were preceded by a United Kingdom that subsequently fractured remains the subject of fierce debate.
What is certain is that the ancient Israelites were never a significant regional power, let alone the superpower of the modern imagination.
There is a reason the great empires of the Middle East emerged in Egypt, Mesopotamia, Persia, and Anatolia – or from outside the region altogether – but never in Palestine.
It simply lacked the population and resource base for power projection. Jerusalem may be the holiest of cities on earth, but for almost the entirety of its existence, including the period in question, it existed as a village, provincial town or small city rather than metropolis.
Judah and Israel, like the neighboring Canaanite and Philistine entities during this period, were for most of their existence vassal states, their fealty and tribute fought over by rival empires – Egyptians, Assyrians, Babylonians, etc. – rather than extracted from others.
Indeed, Israel was destroyed during the eighth century BCE by the Assyrians, who for good measured subordinated Judah to their authority, until it was in the sixth century BCE eliminated by the Babylonians, who had earlier overtaken the Assyrians in a regional power struggle.
The Babylonian Exile was not a wholesale deportation, but rather affected primarily Judah’s elites and their kin. Nor was there a collective return to the homeland when the opportunity arose several decades later after Cyrus the Great defeated Babylon and re-established a smaller Judah as a province of the Persian Achaemenid empire. Indeed, Mesopotamia would remain a key center of Jewish religion and culture for centuries afterwards.
Zionist claims of ancient title conveniently erase the reality that the ancient Israelites were hardly the only inhabitants of ancient Palestine, but rather shared it with Canaanites, Philistines, and others.
The second part of the claim, that the Jewish population was forcibly expelled by the Romans and has for 2,000 years been consumed with the desire to return, is equally problematic.
By the time the Romans conquered Jerusalem during the first century BCE, established Jewish communities were already to be found throughout the Mediterranean world and Middle East – to the extent that a number of scholars have concluded that a majority of Jews already lived in the diaspora by the time the first Roman soldier set foot in Jerusalem.
These communities held a deep attachment to Jerusalem, its Temple, and the lands recounted in the Bible. They identified as diasporic communities, and in many cases may additionally have been able to trace their origins to this or that town or village in the extinguished kingdoms of Israel and Judah. But there is no indication those born and bred in the diaspora across multiple generations considered themselves to be living in temporary exile or considered the territory of the former Israelite kingdoms rather than their lands of birth and residence their natural homeland, any more than Irish-Americans today feel they properly belong in Ireland rather than the United States.
Unlike those taken in captivity to Babylon centuries earlier, there was no impediment to their relocation to or from their ancestral lands, although economic factors appear to have played an important role in the growth of the diaspora.
By contrast, those traveling in the opposite direction appear to have done so, more often than not, for religious reasons, or to be buried in Jerusalem’s sacred soil.
Nations and nationalism did not exist 2,000 years ago.
Nor Zionist propagandists in New York, Paris, and London incessantly proclaiming that for two millennia Jews everywhere have wanted nothing more than to return their homeland, and invariably driving home rather than taking the next flight to Tel Aviv.
Nor insufferably loud Americans declaring, without a hint of irony or self-awareness, the right of the Jewish people to Palestine “because they were there first”.
Back to the Romans, about a century after their arrival a series of Jewish rebellions over the course of several decades, coupled with internecine warfare between various Jewish factions, produced devastating results.
A large proportion of the Jewish population was killed in battle, massacred, sold into slavery, or exiled. Many towns and villages were ransacked, the Temple in Jerusalem destroyed, and Jews barred from entering the city for all but one day a year.
Although a significant Jewish presence remained, primarily in the Galilee, the killings, associated deaths from disease and destitution, and expulsions during the Roman-Jewish wars exacted a calamitous toll.
With the destruction of the Temple Jerusalem became an increasingly spiritual rather than physical center of Jewish life. Jews neither formed a demographic majority in Palestine, nor were the majority of Jews to be found there.
Many of those who remained would in subsequent centuries convert to Christianity or Islam, succumb to massacres during the Crusades, or join the diaspora. On the eve of Zionist colonization locally-born Jews constituted less than five per cent of the total population.
As for the burning desire to return to Zion, there is precious little evidence to substantiate it. There is, for example, no evidence that upon their expulsion from Spain during the late fifteenth century, the Sephardic Jewish community, many of whom were given refuge by the Ottoman Empire that ruled Palestine, made concerted efforts to head for Jerusalem. Rather, most opted for Istanbul and Greece.
Similarly, during the massive migration of Jews fleeing persecution and poverty in Eastern Europe during the nineteenth century, the destinations of choice were the United States and United Kingdom.
Even after the Zionist movement began a concerted campaign to encourage Jewish emigration to Palestine, less than five per cent took up the offer. And while the British are to this day condemned for limiting Jewish immigration to Palestine during the late 1930s, the more pertinent reality is that the vast majority of those fleeing the Nazi menace once again preferred to relocate to the US and UK, but were deprived of these havens because Washington and London firmly slammed their doors shut.
Tellingly, the Jewish Agency for Israel in 2023 reported that of the world’s 15.7 million Jews, 7.2 million – less than half – reside in Israel and the occupied Palestinian territories.
According to the Agency, “The Jewish population numbers refer to persons who define themselves as Jews by religion or otherwise and who do not practice another religion”.
It further notes that if instead of religion one were to apply Israel’s Law of Return, under which any individual with one or more Jewish grandparent is entitled to Israeli citizenship, only 7.2 of 25.5 million eligible individuals (28 per cent) have opted for Zion.
In other words, “Next Year in Jerusalem” was, and largely remains, an aspirational religious incantation rather than political program. For religious Jews, furthermore, it was to result from divine rather than human intervention.
For this reason, many equated Zionism with blasphemy, and until quite recently most Orthodox Jews were either non-Zionist or rejected the ideology altogether.
Returning to the irrelevant issue of ancestry, if there is one population group that can lay a viable claim of direct descent from the ancient Israelites it would be the Samaritans, who have inhabited the area around Mount Gerizim, near the West Bank city of Nablus, without interruption since ancient times.
Palestinian Jews would be next in line, although unlike the Samaritans they interacted more regularly with both other Jewish communities and their gentile neighbors.
Claims of Israelite descent made on behalf of Jewish diaspora communities are much more difficult to sustain. Conversions to and from Judaism, intermarriage with gentiles, absorption in multiple foreign societies, and related phenomena over the course of several thousand years make it a virtual certainty that the vast majority of Jews who arrived in Palestine during the late 19th and first half of the 20th century to reclaim their ancient homeland were in fact the first of their lineage to ever set foot in it.
By way of an admittedly imperfect analogy, most Levantines, Egyptians, Sudanese, and North Africans identify as Arabs, yet the percentage of those who can trace their roots to the tribes of the Arabian Peninsula that conquered their lands during the seventh and eighth centuries is at best rather small.
Ironically, a contemporary Palestinian, particularly in the West Bank and Galilee, is likely to have more Israelite ancestry than a contemporary diaspora Jew.
The Palestinians take their name from the Philistines, one of the so-called Sea Peoples who arrived on the southern coast of Canaan from the Aegean islands, probably Crete, during the late second millennium BCE.
They formed a number of city states, including Gaza, Ashdod, and Ashkelon. Like Judah and Israel they existed primarily as vassals of regional powers, and like them were eventually destroyed by more powerful states as well.
With no record of their extermination or expulsion, the Philistines are presumed to have been absorbed by the Canaanites and thereafter disappear from the historical record.
Sitting at the crossroads between Asia, Africa, and Europe, Palestine was over the centuries repeatedly conquered by empires near and far, absorbing a constant flow of human and cultural influences throughout.
Given its religious significance, pilgrims from around the globe also contributed to making the Palestinian people what they are today.
A common myth is that the Palestinian origin story dates from the Arab-Muslim conquests of the seventh century. In point of fact, the Arabs neither exterminated nor expelled the existing population, and the new rulers never formed a majority of the population.
Rather, and over the course of several centuries, the local population was gradually Arabized, and to a large extent Islamized as well.
So the question as to who was there first can be answered in several ways: “both” and “irrelevant” are equally correct.
Indisputably, the Zionist movement had no right to establish a sovereign state in Palestine on the basis of claims of ancient title, which was and remains its primary justification for doing so.
That it established an exclusivist state that not only rejected any rights for the existing Palestinian population but was from the very outset determined to displace and replace this population was and remains a historical travesty.
That it as a matter of legislation confers automatic citizenship on millions who have no existing connection with the land but denies it to those who were born there and expelled from it, solely on the basis of their identity, would appear to be the very definition of apartheid.
The above notwithstanding, and while the Zionist claim of exclusive Israeli sovereignty in Palestine remains illegitimate, there are today several million Israelis who cannot be simply wished away.
A path to co-existence will need to be found, even as the genocidal nature of the Israeli state, and increasingly of Israeli society as well, makes the endeavor increasingly complicated.
The question, thrown into sharp relief by Israel’s genocidal onslaught on the Palestinian population of the Gaza Strip, is whether co-existence with Israeli society can be achieved without first dismantling the Israeli state and its ruling institutions.
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Valor - (Chapter 1)
Pairing: Jake x Reader, Daniel x Reader
Word Count: 17.1k
Warnings: Cursin', Smokin', Drinkin', Allusions to Drug Use. Angst: Struggle and Poverty, Emotional Manipulation, Cheating, Abandonment, Jealousy, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Mentions of Death, Allusions to Suicide, Allusions to Shady Activities. Smut: Kissing, Allusions to Sex.
Valor Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify
A new project in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.
HER POV
You could hardly see out the back window, your entire life piled up to the roof of the car. You were thankful on days like today, that you had a car big enough to fit it all. Your every worldly possession, reduced down to a handful of boxes and trash bags, now occupying your backseat. You shifted into reverse and turned your body to look out the back window of your old ‘73 Scout. Your eyes peeked through the visible sliver of the rear window, but not before catching sight of the dress you were slated to wear just 3 months from now. That, however, was the reason you were packed into this car in the first place.
‘Go ahead and try to leave. You’ll be back when you realize I’m as good as it gets for you.’ his words still echoing through your head as if they were being played through a loudspeaker. ‘You need me. You have nothing without me. You’ll never make it on your own.’ And that’s exactly what he wanted you to believe. He’d told you that so often you wondered if it was himself he was trying to convince instead of you.
You were set to marry Peter the second week of July. The plans were made, invitations sent. But as you stopped by his office to deliver his plate lunch, what you’d walked in on was not the scene of a man ready to be greeted by his soon to be wife. No, it was a very different scene, straight from one of those Playboy magazines you could buy at the Quik-Stop on Douglas.
You can still hear the sound of the ceramic plate shattering against the terrazzo floors. The gasp of air that left the lips of his new bookkeeper, sprawled out across his desk. You can remember the way the peas scattered across the floor in every direction and the way they felt smashing under your shoes as you fled his office.
You waited for him to come home that night. Your things were already packed away in bags and boxes by the time he finally meandered through the front door of the apartment. Then came the excuses. The begging and pleading that quickly turned vicious and accusatory. The ‘maybe if you put out more, I wouldn’t have had to look elsewhere’ lines, that you knew to be a load of shit. You knew Peter wasn’t one to shy away from clearing his conscience at someone else's expense. Your mind was made up before he ever came home. You knew you couldn’t stay here, not with him. Not after this.
You aren’t sure why you brought the dress with you. You could have easily left it at your mothers, letting it hang in her guest room closet to collect dust and rot until the end of time. But you didn’t, you knew that bringing it would give you that reminder of why you were leaving. So with fifteen dollars of gas in the tank, and your Bruce Springsteen 8-track, you and your things began the trek towards Atlanta, ready to start again. Ready to live a life uninhibited. Ready to find an adventure.
—
The chorus of ‘State Trooper’ played through the fuzzy car speakers as you popped a cinnamon hard candy into your mouth. Your eyes caught sight of the welcome sign as you crossed the Iowa-Missouri border in a blur. It had been quite a few years since you’d been back to Missouri. Actually, you hadn’t visited since your family moved in the third grade. It was an abrupt move, your parents pulling you from school midway through the year with little to no explanation. You were placed in the back of your parents' Taurus and the life that you had known flashed by in a matter of the five minutes it took to make your way from one side of town to the other. You liked Iowa though. You made friends there, had a life and were active in school extracurriculars. It’s where you met Peter, and fell in love, though now that part didn’t exactly fit the narrative of your happy story.
As the song began to fade out into the next track, you heard it. The metallic grinding beneath the hood. The hell is that? You spun the volume knob down to zero, listening again for the noise, wondering if maybe you had just run over something on the freeway. As you passed mile marker 22 you heard it again, louder. Whatever it was had your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t know the first thing about cars, definitely not enough to fix anything. Then it became more frequent. Persistent. Something was really wrong.
In a panic you pulled off the road into the overgrown grass of the shoulder, pulling out your roadmap and unfolding it across the steering wheel. You tried to get a sense of your surroundings, knowing you’d crossed the border not too long ago. You pinpoint your location in search of the next town you’d come across in what you knew to be a collection of nearly abandoned mining towns. A bead of sweat collected on your forehead, the wind dying down as the sun began to set. The impending darkness adds another factor of stress to an already stressful situation. As your finger traced a line up the interstate, you saw the familiar name. The place just on your mind mere minutes ago. You don’t remember too much about Joslyn, but what you do remember of it, is that there was an auto repair shop, and you were in desperate need if you were going to make it to Atlanta. With an estimated thirty miles to Joslyn from your current spot, you started your car back up, and pulled back out onto the road, praying you would make it there without doing anymore damage.
The metallic noise seemed to stay consistent, but with every mile that passed you knew the dollar signs were adding up. Of course you took the money stashed away for the wedding, he didn’t get to keep that. Why should he? Consider it severance. However, car repairs was not how you wanted to spend that money. You planned to use it for a deposit and first month's rent on an apartment, hoping it would be enough to tide you over until you found a job.
You knew you had plenty of useful skills, you were near the top of your class in school. You planned to work with Peter at the accounting firm after you married, and you hoped you’d be able to find a similar position in your new city. You were snapped from your daydreams as you saw the sign welcoming you to Joslyn, however, the old decrepit sign, about twenty years past needing to be replaced, sent a cold chill down your spine. The way it barely hung on to the wooden stakes made you feel anything but welcome, and your instincts told you to turn back. As you limped your car further into town, you realized that the vibrant city you left all those years ago had been in steady decline ever since. Homes abandoned and pillaged, with broken windows and spray painted siding. Cars sat deteriorating in driveways that were barely visibly under the overgrown grass and trees. You had no sense of ‘home’ despite this being the town you were born in. You barely recognized it, until you saw Louie’s.
Knowing you would find answers there, you pulled into an empty parking space, almost afraid to pull the key from the ignition, wondering if it would turn on again when you got back inside. You grabbed your fringed purse from the passenger seat, and pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head as you jumped down from the driver's seat. The gravel crunched beneath your feet as you walked towards the front door of the diner, seeing a few older patrons lining the bartop and scattered through a few booths through the large windows.
The bell rang as you pulled the door open, alerting everyone of your presence. Ten heads turned to look at you all at once, and suddenly you felt like a spectacle as you stood there in your halter top and waist hugging jeans.
“Take a seat anywhere ya’d like, hun.” a lady in a pink apron called out from across the room. Her voice was gruff and far deeper than it should be for a lady, you thought. You made your way towards an empty bar stool, leaving a space between you and an older man in a newsboy cap, sliding his fork through a piece of cherry pie. You gave him a curt smile as you settled on the stool and placed your bag on the counter. It smelled good, and you felt a small rumble in your stomach as you watched plates being sent to the window. If you’d had more time you’d probably enjoy a late lunch, but you didn’t, so you couldn’t.
The same woman approached you, handing you a laminated menu and gesturing a coffee cup towards you in silent question. You nodded your head and smiled, placing the menu down on the counter.
“What’ll ya have, sugar…” she asked, pouring coffee into your mug from the yellow stained carafe.
“Oh, I’m great with just the coffee for now, thank you.” you responded, seeing her eyes rake over you with curiosity.
“Just passin’ through?” she asks, placing the carafe back on the counter.
“Sort of. I’m on my way to Georgia, but I think I need a mechanic to look at my car. Started knocking when I hit the border. This was the first town I thought might have one.” you answer.
The lady’s eyes flash over to the man next to you. He looks over at you and looks back at her giving her a slight nod. “Yeah we got one.” he says, twisting his stool to face you. “You’ll have to try and get it down to Ace’s, well Jake’s now I reckon. But he should be able to get ya fixed up.”
“Would you be able to give me directions?” you ask, digging into your purse in search of a pen. You grab a paper napkin from the dispenser, and click the end of your pen on the countertop as he nods his head.
“Yeah, so you’re gonna take a left out of the lot here, go down ‘bout 2 miles ‘er so, you’ll see a Church of the Nazarene and take that left there. Go up that hill ‘bouta ‘nother mile and you’ll see a dirt road on your right. His shops’ at the end of the drive there. Can tell him Bubba sent ‘cha, and he’ll help out a pretty lady I’m sure of it.”
You quickly scribble down his directions, and toss the napkin and pen into your bag. “Thank you. I–I really should be going, It’ll be dark soon and I–”
“Should finish your cup there at least.” the lady says, leaning onto the counter. “You sure you’re not from ‘round here, honey? You look awful familiar.”
“Not exactly.” you say, cutting the conversation short. You place a few dollars on the counter and grab your bag, “Thank you. For the directions. I appreciate it.” you say, watching the man tip his hat to you as you make your way out of the diner and back to your car. Jumping into the front seat you send up a quick prayer that she’ll start and as you twist the key you hear the engine roar to life.
With the napkin sitting on your leg, you pulled out of the parking space heading further into town. The clock on the dash read 4:43, and you hoped you’d catch them before they closed up for the night. You saw the church he spoke of up in the distance, what was probably once a pristine white building, was now showing wear and tear with no one to fix it up. You took the left, the metallic clicking beneath the hood growing louder as you pressed forward on the gas pedal to climb the hill. With the windows down the sound was deafening, the cool breeze blowing through the window alleviated the sweat forming on your neck. In the dissipating sunlight you saw the orange dirt road and hesitantly turned to travel down its short path. A multitude of old abandoned cars littered the premises, and you wondered if that was a good sign or a bad one. You slowed your speed to a crawl, the clicking from your engine announcing your presence as you pulled closer towards the building.
Your headlights lit up the front of the building, an old gray sheet metal building, flash rust covering most of the sign that read ‘Ace’s Garage’. Two men in old rotted patio chairs stood slowly as you put the car in park. You shut off the engine and took a deep breath as you jumped out onto the dusty dirt road.
“Hi, I’m sorry, am I too late? I know it’s close to closing.” you murmured, stepping around to the front of the car. They both just stood there in their faded blue coveralls that looked like they hadn’t had a washing in some time. The taller man had his unzipped and the sleeves tied around his waist. A dirty white t-shirt beneath concealed what seemed to be a plethora of ink adorning his body. Neither of them jumped to respond to you, and your eyes searched theirs for any sort of answer as the shorter man begrudgingly flicked his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with his dirty boot. “Closed at 4:30.” he says.
“Shut up Jake. No. We heard you coming ‘bout a mile away.” the other, taller man said with a curt smile. His dark disheveled curls were tied up in a messy bun that hadn’t been touched since he put it there this morning. Wisps of hair surrounded his head in a halo of sweaty dark strands. “Doesn’t sound too good. Sounds like you’ve got something going on under the hood.”
“It just started doing it about an hour or so ago. Right after I crossed the border. Never heard it before, and I have a long trip ahead of me so I figured I should probably get it checked out.” you reply, twisting your hands around the strap of your purse.
“Could be a number of things…” he pauses, stepping over towards your car. He places a grease covered hand on the hood of your baby blue Scout and turns to look at you. “These Scouts are pretty good little cars, but they are notorious for having engine issues. Afraid to say you might be a victim of that. Though, maybe it’s just a bad wheel bearing.”
“Nah.” the other man, who you now know as Jake, says suddenly, stepping forward slowly with his arms crossed across his chest. He doesn’t say much, just places his hand under the hood and opens the latch. He steps up on the front bumper, and takes a look into the engine compartment, resting his tattoo covered hands on either side of the frame. After a few quiet minutes he steps down, and closes the hood staring at the taller man. “Collapsed lifter, but that’s the least of her issues. Camshaft is fucked.”
“When did you say it started doing this?” the curly haired man asks.
“About an hour ago. I know it’s bad but, what’s that mean?” you ask nervously.
“Means you better call your husband to come pick you up.” Jake said, looking out towards the field in the distance.
“Husband?” you question, seeing his eyes travel to the diamond on your left finger. You quickly flip it around and look back to him. “Oh, I’m not married. I don’t have a husband. I don’t live here. I was just passing through.”
“Shit place to get stranded.” he quips, turning on his heel and making his way towards the door of the car. He spits towards the ground as he pulls the door open and climbs inside.
“Stranded?” you blurt out, catching the eyes of the taller man.
“Daniel, get her out of the fuckin’ way.” Jake says calmly, leaning his head out the window as he starts your car.
He grabs your arm and ushers you out of the way as Jake pulls your car forward into the empty bay beneath the buzzing fluorescent lights. He nods, motioning for you to follow him towards the garage, the air dusty as your tires kicked up dirt. The car shuts off and he jumps out, his boots making a loud thud as they land on the dirty concrete floors. As you follow Daniel into the garage he stops, placing his hands on his hips as he watches Jake lift the hood once more. This time, he grabs a ladder and a work light, hanging it from the inside of the hood. You look around at the garage, noticing the side you occupied was slightly more messy than the bay on the opposite side. Tools scattered about but in a way that you could tell they were exactly where they were supposed to be.
As you turned further you noticed a tan cover hanging loosely over a car parked between the two bays, you didn’t pay much mind to it, as your brain was bouncing from object to object. Your eyes caught Jake’s as he peered up from the engine compartment, quickly flicking them back down as he examined the condition of your motor. You let out a sigh and leaned backwards, resting your weight on the covered car. Daniel snapped his head in your direction seeing you before looking over at Jake. He quickly turned back to you, and pulled your arm to stand up again. “Probably don’t want to lean on that one. Here, let’s go find you somewhere to sit.” he said, walking you further into the garage. You looked over to Jake again, seeing him concentrated on his task, a single strand of brown hair hanging long in his face.
You followed Daniel as he led you to a plaid nylon folding chair, similar to the ones they arose from earlier. The once white fabric was now a dingy, dirty gray, stained with oil and grease. He offered you a sorrowful smile as he gestured for you to sit. “Thanks.” you squeaked, checking your wristwatch for the time.
Daniel walked back over towards the car, peering in as Jake inspected the damage. You watched his back muscles flex as he placed his hands on the open hood, his white t-shirt pulling tightly against his back. You could see the shadow of a dark image through the white cotton of his shirt, a large tattoo must be under there and you couldn’t help but wonder what it was. It was almost as if he could feel your eyes on him as he turned around to meet your gaze as he continued talking to Jake. Jake turned around too, catching your sight and you knew that the news they were about to deliver was probably not what you wanted to hear.
Jake unhooked the work light, and closed the hood, stepping down off the ladder and wiping his hands on his coveralls. He used the back of his arm to wipe the sweat from his brow as he looked over towards you again. They both began walking over towards you, stopping short as they reached you. You stood to meet them, watching as Jake shoved his hands in his pockets.
He was the first to speak, “I can fix it, but I will have to order the parts. Don’t see too many of these come ‘round here.”
“Oh, so it’s an easy fix? Good, maybe I won’t be here too long.” you said cheerfully.
“No. I didn’t say that.” he bites back. “I said, I can fix it.”
You furrow your brow at his harshness and turn to Daniel.
He rolls his eyes and looks at you, “What he is trying to say is that you need some major work done. We don’t have the parts we need– he needs, to be able to do it, so he will have to order them. Only problem is that the delivery truck only runs on the 15th of the month.”
You look down at your watch seeing the tiny ‘2’ in the window. “And today is the second…”
“Right.” he says, kicking his shoe against the floor.
“I can call and order the parts tomorrow when the supplier opens, can give you a proper estimate then, but I’m gonna warn you that this ain’t no cheap fix.” Jake says, flicking his eyes up to yours. There is a smudge of grease on his cheek that catches the light. Your eyes travel down his face seeing a scattering of tattoos that decorate the side of his neck, disappearing down into the zipped coveralls.
“I have the money.” you sigh, fiddling with the strings on your purse.
Jake nods his head, “Right, well, see you tomorrow.” he says, turning to head towards a set of stairs at the side of the garage.
“Jake. The fuck…” Daniel shouts, causing Jake to stop and turn around.
“What.” he answers, slowly walking back towards you.
“What do you mean, what? You’re gonna have to drive her down to Wanda’s.” he says, “I can’t take her on the bike.”
“No.” he says, far too quickly.
“Jake, what else is she supposed to do?” he says, throwing his hands into the air.
“Dunno. Figure it out I guess.” he scoffs, trying to retreat again, before Daniel grabs his arm.
“It’s Wanda’s or here. Make your choice.” Daniel growls.
“Why do you care?” Jake barks back.
“How about you quit being a prick for a minute? You’re going to take this nice, paying customer down to the Motel, so that tomorrow she can come back and pay for those parts, and you can fix her car, hm?” he seethes into his ear.
Jake rips his arm from his grip, and walks over to the dirty, stained wall, snatching a set of keys from a hook. “Fine. Let’s go.”
You scurry over to your car, attempting to grab the few things you’ll need for a few nights stay at a motel, before quickly jumping down and looking around for Jake. You hear an engine roar to life outside the shop, seeing Danny pointing towards an old, Green Ford truck. His headlights flash on, practically blinding you as you start to walk towards them, turning to thank Daniel for his kindness as you run off towards your ride.
—
The ride to the motel was silent for the most part, the sound of the static coming across the radio the only noise filling the cab of the truck. You sat shotgun while Jake rested his wrist on the steering wheel of the old Ford, the sullied fingertips of his opposite hand rubbing across his unkempt mustache as he slowly made his way back through town.
“You can ask me.” He finally spoke, his eyes dashing quickly back and forth from the rear view mirror and the road.
You cleared your throat, suddenly surprised he spoke. “Ask you what?”
“Where you know me from. I can tell you wanna ask.” He answered, his voice only a tiny bit louder than the rumbling engine.
Damn, he was right. He did look familiar to you, and so did Daniel. But your mind was so frenzied with the anticipation of finding out what was wrong with your car, and then the news that the damage was far worse than you thought, that you pushed the thought far from your mind.
“I mean, you do kind of seem…”
“…familiar? Yeah. I remember you.” He mumbled, his eyes still never traveling your way. “You went to St. James Elementary, right?”
“Yes…”
“So did we. Probably why you recognize us.” Jake turned the wheel a hard right, forgoing a blinker as he flicked his eyes to the rear view again.
Ah, that makes sense. You had started the first grade here many years ago, and made it to the third before your parents ripped you away and set off toward Iowa. But the more you thought about it, the more you remembered them. Both of them. But that was over twenty years ago, how the hell did he remember you now?
“Shit, that’s right.” You glanced to the floor, trying like hell to stretch your mind back to the tiny hallways lined with lockers, and the playground out back where many of your earliest memories were made. “I remember now, you were what, a year older than me?”
“Yeah. Danny’s a few years behind me.” Jake reached in his front pocket and pulled out his half-empty pack of Lucky Strikes, patting the box on the heel of his hand before he pushed the lighter into the dash, waiting for it to heat.
“So wait, you were the one that climbed to the top of that old Sycamore that day at recess…couldn’t get back down when the bell rang so you jumped down and broke your arm…” your memory probably didn’t serve you all the way right, but you couldn’t have made up the tall-tale.
The lighter finally popped free, and Jake raised his left knee to steer the truck while he grabbed the handle, shielding the wind to light the butt of his cigarette. You watched as he inhaled, then cranked the window the rest of the way down to let the smoke filter through.
“I didn’t climb all the way up. Just halfway. And I didn’t jump, I fell.” He tapped his cigarette in the tray of the dash, not caring one bit that the residual ashes fell into the floorboard. You watched them flutter down before fizzling out completely.
You laughed at the memory, finding it hard to believe that you’d found yourself here again, remembering things about your childhood that you hadn’t even come close to thinking about in years.
“It wasn’t funny.” Jake said stoically, puffing the cigarette again.
“Sorry. No, it wasn’t. But, I remember being glad you didn’t get hurt worse than you did.” You replied, hoping to warm up his ice-cold composure.
“This is you.” He mumbled as he pulled into the lot of the old motel, the truck lurching forward as he put it into park. You popped the door open and slid out of the old bench seat, slamming the door behind you as you rounded the side of the truck to grab your suitcase from the bed. Jake didn’t get out of the truck or offer to help you with your bags, but after his less-than-happy attempt at making cordial conversation, you didn’t expect anything less.
You perked back up to the open passenger window, seeing that Jake’s eyes were still darting from side to side out the windows. Why was he so paranoid?
“Thank you for the ride, I really appreciate it. You’ll let me know when the parts get ordered, and I can give you the cash?” You asked, really not knowing any other way to go about this.
He nodded his head, biting his cheeks in.
“Okay, let me go check in, and I’ll come back and tell you my room number so you can phone me.” You said, walking toward the check-in office.
“I’ll just call and ask for your room.” He muttered, throwing the gear shift into reverse.
“But, you never even asked me my–”
“I remember your name, Y/N.” He spat, spinning his head around to check his surroundings before he whipped the truck from the parking spot, kicking up dust as he flew back down the road.
——
Upon entering the check-in office, your eyes had to do little to adjust, as there were barely any lights on at all. The stench of the room itself was like must and rotting wood, with just a hint of Borax and lemon-scented cleaner. You glanced to the large counter that spanned the room, leaving your suitcase behind while you approached it. After a minute or two of waiting, you let your palm gently tap on the bell that sat on the desk, ‘Ring for Service’ written on an old note underneath it.
“Hi, hello. Could I get a single room for the next week, please?” You asked the gruff woman that finally limped her way from the back room.
“HUH?” She all but yelled, squinting her eyes as she held her hand up to her ear. She must be hard of hearing.
You cleared your throat to speak a bit louder. “I’d like a room for the next seven nights, please.” You spoke loudly, mouthing the words clearly as you watched her read your lips.
“Only room I got’s a double efficiency.” She barked, grabbing a pen as she lifted the glasses that hung from a chain around her neck to rest on her nose. You snarled your nose up in confusion, remembering that you only saw another one or two cars in the lot.
“I don’t need something that large, it’s just me, if you want to put me in something smalle–”
“Double efficiency.” She said, writing down some number into her oversized ledger book. “It’s $35 a night. I take cash upfront for the whole stay. Fresh linens every other day.”
“Thirty-five a night? Ma’am, isn’t that a bit high?” Your voice was raised on its own now, out of pure surprise at the price.
“Either that or you ride down to the new Ramada an hour and a half South, and seein’ as how Jake brought you here, it’s lookin’ like the double efficiency for yeh.”
You seethed as she scribbled the math into her book, her jaws gnawing together as she chewed on nothing. “Two forty-five rate plus sixty-seven tax gives us…” she tapped away loudly at her printing calculator. “Three hundred twelve for the week.”
You felt like throwing up. That took a good chunk from the cash you brought along, but thankfully didn’t drain you completely. Luckily, the money you’d saved up for the wedding was well above what you’d need to survive on, so it didn’t hurt too badly as you begrudgingly counted out the bills from your wallet.
“Write your name and date here, signature here.” She pointed in her book for you to sign next to room number 7. She smiled a large grin as you laid out the bills for her, her mouth showing no more than a few teeth. As she gave you her best fake smile, you noticed her right eye was almost completely glossed over with a blue sheen. “Need a receipt?”
“No, thank you.” You chirped, wanting to get the hell away from this eerie woman and into your double efficiency as quickly as possible.
“I’ll bring fresh linens day after. No guests. Here’s your key, don’t lose it, I only got the one. Shower takes a good five minutes to heat, and don’t be smokin’ none of that grass in the room. Stinks up the place.” She said at a high volume while she wagged her finger toward your face.
You raised your eyebrows at the irony of the smell of the place, nodding her way as you grabbed the key from the countertop. She turned away, taking your wad of cash with her back to the room she came from. “Name’s Wanda if you need anything.”
It was getting to be dark outside now, the dull streetlights barely illuminating the sidewalk enough for you to see the room numbers on the front of the doors as you passed.
“Five…six…seven.” You whispered to yourself as you dropped the heavy suitcase beside you to fish the key from your pocket. As you slid the key into the slot and twisted the old knob, you were immediately met with the same stench as you were in the lobby. Old and grimey.
You brought your bag inside and quickly turned to lock the door behind you, sliding the hanging chain into place. You inspected the room, seeing the two beds with old brown comforters laid across them, a nightstand in between, and a single TV on the chest of drawers in the corner. It’ll do. The bathroom wasn’t much better, and it looked as though the calcium and lime deposits on the shower head could kill a man.
You sighed a deep sigh as you listened to your stomach rumble, your decision to forgo a late lunch at the diner earlier now seeming like a bad idea. The apple you had stashed away in your bag would have to suffice.
After unpacking a little bit of your clothing from your suitcase and hanging a few things in the closet, you decided to turn on the television and tuck in early for the night. You twisted the knob, watching as the light on the screen came to life, the high-pitched squeal of the staticy screen making your skin crawl. You adjusted the antenna, trying your best to get a better picture of what looked to be the evening news, but it was no use. But, some sound was better than no sound.
You slipped your top and jeans off and folded them neatly over the bed, planning on wearing them again tomorrow to save on any kind of laundry you’d end up needing to do. An old t-shirt from an old high-school boyfriend would have to be your choice of pajamas for the night. You flicked off the light, and climbed into the starchy sheets, the pillow feeling rock hard under your head. You shook your head as you looked at the ceiling, wondering how in the hell you got yourself into this mess.
This was supposed to be an adventure. A period of regrowth. A time to just live, find yourself again. Maybe join up with a new tribe of people, try new things, see where the wind would blow you…
But no. You’re here in your old hometown in a sticky motel, with a broken-down car, and no dinner. On the first day of your escape. You crossed your arms across your chest, allowing yourself a second to pout. For a split second, you contemplated going back to Iowa, back to your mother’s, back to the comforts of home, but you’d never return to Peter. Not in a million years, the scumbag.
You twisted up your nose as your legs rubbed across the hard mattress and scratchy sheets, wondering who the hell the last people to sleep here were, or worse, if Wanda had actually even washed them when they left.
—
The sound of three quick knocks on your door awoke you from what must have been a light sleep, the noise making your heart immediately pound. You hopped up, snaking across the floor quietly and peeking out of the peephole. You half expected to see a murderer standing at the door, but then, why would they have knocked?
Must be Wanda.
No, she doesn’t care about anyone but herself, apparently.
You squinted your eye to see a ruffle of dark curls in the pale light, standing and swaying back and forth while he waited for you to open the door.
“Daniel?” You whispered, pulling the door open wide enough that the chain lock pulled taut. “What are you doing?” You pulled the chain free, opening the door all the way.
His eyes popped out of his head as he took in a quick breath, the look on his face completely surprised, and a little embarrassed.
“Hey, um…I’m sorry, I…” he muttered, pulling his arm behind his head.
“No, it’s fine, you just surprised me, that’s all. Is everything…” you pause, noticing he wasn’t shying away from his awkward stance. You suddenly felt the breeze blow across your almost completely uncovered lower-half.
“Shit!” You yelped, pulling your t-shirt down as far as it would go over your legs. You bounced back into the room, pulling the comforter from the bed to cover yourself. “I’m sorry, I completely didn’t even…”
“No no, I’m sorry.” Danny admitted from the open doorway. “I just came to…”
You wrapped the linen around yourself, a complete cocoon now as you waddled like a mummy back over to him with a shy smile on your face.
He laughed, his bright white teeth a contrast to the dark complexion of his skin. You felt the pit of your stomach fall at the sight.
“I just came to see if you wanted to grab a late dinner with me, seeing as how you can’t drive to get anything, and there’s no such thing as room service in a place like this.” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Oh, no, Daniel, that’s awful sweet of you to offer. But, I had an apple, so I’m…all set…” you admitted, the pit of hunger in your stomach getting bigger as the minutes ticked on.
He furrowed his brow. “You can…call me Danny, if you want. We aren’t complete strangers.”
You felt your eyes sparkle at him. Stop it, Y/N.
You swallowed. “Okay, Danny…”
“An apple? That’s all you’ve had all day?”
“Yeah. And well, a few sips of coffee earlier…” you admitted, waving him off. “Truly, I’m just fine.”
He stood and stared at you a few seconds longer, his eyes slipping past you and into the empty room behind you. The light of the static-snowed screen reflected off his features, accentuating his face, his jawline, his lips…the tattoos that crawled up his neck…
“Okay, well. I’ll see you around then?” He stated more than asked, before turning on his heels and disappearing down the sidewalk.
Shit. You were starving. And bored. And not sleepy anymore. And, after letting your eyes wander a little too long on him…you felt…
“Danny!” You called back, seeing him turn with anticipation. “Let me put some pants on?”
He grinned again, and began making his way back toward your door as you popped back inside to re-dress yourself. You quickly pulled your jeans and halter on, and took a second to fluff your hair without him seeing. You grabbed a light jacket and pulled it over your arms, and made sure to slip your room key into your purse before throwing it over your shoulder.
You stepped back outside the door, catching Danny leaning against the wall smoking. “That was quick.” He said, blowing smoke into the air. You noticed it smelled different than what Jake smoked, it was sweeter and not as rancid.
“Did you walk here?” You asked him as you locked the door, noticing that there were no new vehicles in the parking lot.
“Hell no.” He chuckled. “I brought Ruby.”
“Who?”
As you rounded the edge of the building, you saw what he was referring to. An early model motorcycle, a little rusted and definitely dirty, but you could see the red paint peeking out from underneath the dust.
You watched as he lifted his leg and straddled the seat, pulling his weight over to kick the stand up. He turned the key and revved the engine, walking it forward just a bit as you watched. He motioned with his head for you to hop on, of which you quickly denied.
“No no, I’ll walk, it’s fine.” You muttered, the engine drowning out the sound of your voice. You backed away, crossing your arms nervously. No way you were going to hop on the back of a motorcycle with a man you hardly knew. In the dark in a strange town, much less.
“Ah come on, it’ll take you twenty minutes to walk there.” He yelled over the purring, again tilting his head back for you to climb in behind him. He slowly pulled the tie from his hair, letting his elbow-length waves fall before re-gathering it, and twisting at his neck again. He gave you another side smile, raising his eyebrows as he playfully revved the engine again.
Fuck it.
You bashfully stepped forward, hiking your leg up over the seat to fit right in behind him, the seat forcing you to press against his back a little more closely than you were comfortable with. And to make things even more awkward, you weren’t sure what to do with your hands. You let them drop to your thighs as he walked the bike forward a little again, turning it before he caught pavement and took off down the road without warning.
You squealed loudly, your unfamiliarity with riding on the back of a motorcycle startling you completely. Without hesitation and in fear of falling off, your hands wrapped around Danny’s torso, and your feet fell in behind his on the racks.
“Oh shit!” You yelled as he took off down the road, your arms gripping him tighter as you tried to get your balance. You were positive if you let go for even the tiniest second, you were going to eat rocks.
“You alright back there?” He asked, turning his head slightly.
“No, not really! I feel like I’m gonna fall!” You admitted, the wind whipping your hair in all directions.
“You won’t fall, I won’t let you.” His left hand came down to grasp your fists gathered across his chest, and slowly pushed them downward toward his stomach, instantly making you feel leveled out, and a ton more balanced. He patted your hands there, telling you to leave them.
Then his hand found your thigh, running his hand along the outside seam of your jeans from your knee to right below your asscheek. What the fuck? Before you could slap the hell out of him, he gripped up under your leg, jerking your forward on the seat to press your chest hard against his back.
Instantly more centered.
“Is that better? Still feel like you’re gonna fall?” He asked through the wind.
You gulped, the rush of the past 13 seconds making your head spin. But he was right, you no longer felt like you were going to topple over.
“No, yes…it’s better…” you choked out as he began to pick up speed.
“Good. Hang on.” He ordered, speeding up significantly as you barreled down the dusty pavement. And hang on you did. The wind across your face was literally taking your breath away, and making your eyes water. You blinked away the tears as you focused, truly getting your bearings and relaxing your body against Danny’s to get a feel for the bike beneath you. You took a breath and let your body fall into his back a bit more, the motions of his flexing back muscles pressed up against you as he lifted his foot to switch gears.
What the hell are you doing? What is happening?
After a whirlwind two or three minutes, you were slowing down and pulling into the parking lot of Louie’s, the same diner you had stopped into earlier for directions. Danny slowed the bike to a crawl and walked it forward before lowering the kickstand. You instinctively pulled your feet to the ground too, only the tips of your toes reaching the dirt below them.
“Don’t tell me that was your first motorcycle ride…” he said as he leaned his body weight to one side, standing all the way up on solid ground. You followed his action, letting your shaky legs hop off the bike with the help of Danny’s strong hand.
“Yeah, uh. It was.” You tried to sound nonchalant, like it was no big deal, while on the inside, your body was screaming with nervous adrenaline. You patted your hands over your hair to calm your flyaways, trying your best to keep your cool girl composure.
“No shit? Well, if I’d have known that I wouldn’t have taken off so quick. You felt like a natural once you got your balance…” he flitted his eyes your way as you began to make your way to the door.
You gave him a shy smile back. “Are they um. Are they still open? It’s getting late…” you glanced at your watch, finding it to be 9:20pm.
Danny swung the glass door open, frowning as you walked inside before him. “Oh, yeah. They’re open ‘til midnight. And it’s pork chop night, I never miss pork chop night.”
You walked inside the now neon-lit diner, finding many of the same shady-looking characters as you had seen earlier in the day. You nodded toward the man who gave you the directions to Jake’s, of which he returned with a curt smile.
“Bubba!” Danny exclaimed, forcefully throwing two hands to the back of the man’s shoulders, startling him from his coffee. “Save any pork chops for me?”
“They’s a few back there, I’m sure. Ain’t too many people in today.” He answered, turning back to his coffee. “Geraldine! Danny’s here for his special!” The man yelled across the bar, moving sideways to see if he could see in through the opening in the wall to the kitchen.
Just then the same woman in the pink apron waltzed through the double-swinging saloon doors, putting on a giant smile as soon as she saw you and Danny. She made her way around the bar, taking Danny’s face between her hands and squeezing his cheeks. “Evenin’, honey.” Her gruff voice said as she swatted his face.
“Evenin’, Geraldine.” He answered, obviously this was a woman he respected. She turned and found her place again behind the bar, reaching into her apron pocket for her pen and order pad. You and Danny walked to a booth in the middle of the restaurant, and you moved to sit down before he stopped you.
“Hmm-mm, let me sit there. Wanna see the door.” He said, grabbing your shoulders to scoot you sideways to the opposite booth.
“Okay…what for?” You questioned.
“I recognize this one from earlier today, hardly touched her coffee. You make it to Ace’s, honey?” Geraldine interrupted without making eye contact with you as she scribbled something down on her order pad.
Danny cleared his throat and looked to you, raising his eyebrows.
“Oh! Me! Yes ma’am, I barely made it, but uh. Got it there before it could die on me. They’re going to fix it right up.” You answered, feeling silly for having to practically yell your business across the diner to answer her. You watched the man you now knew as Bubba turn in his stool, holding the same flat smile as he did when you first came inside.
“The normal, Danny?” Geraldine asked.
“Yes please, thanks.” He replied, poking his wrapped silverware onto the tabletop.
“And for the lady?” She went on.
You looked down to see no menu in front of you, so you decided to go with your gut. “Um, I’ll have what he’s having?” Your tone was questioning.
Geraldine smiled. “Pork chop in gravy, mashed potatoes, carrots, and peas, sweetie.”
“Oh, perfect. All but the peas, please.” You replied, watching as Geraldine nodded and made her way back into the kitchen.
“Why don’t you like peas? They’re good for you.” Danny said, stretching his arm across the back of the booth behind him. You swallowed hard, recalling the memory of the peas rolling across the floor of Peter’s office. The smell of them smashed against your shoes, still fresh in your mind, and easily makes your stomach turn just from the thought.
“Never been a fan.” You answered, resting your chin in your hand.
Danny pursed his lips together, leaning in now across the table toward you. You watched as a tiny strand of hair fell in front of his eye, his tongue stuck to the back of his teeth as he inhaled. “I would’ve eaten your peas, Y/N. Tsk tsk.”
You looked at him in amused confusion, unsure of what his angle really was. After being around him only a grand total of maybe an hour the entire day, you gathered that you could hardly tell if he was joking or serious at any given time. But his overall demeanor was kind, and playful, and he had invited you here tonight, so you intended on learning him better.
Just while you were here, of course.
Suddenly two steaming black coffees were placed in front of you, the aroma bringing your senses back to life again. “Cream, sweetie?” Geraldine asked, placing a tiny metal pitcher full of the milky liquid in front of you and turning away before you could answer.
You poured the cream in, stirring it together until it was mixed, and you blew on it before you took a slow sip, Danny watching your every move intently.
“Something I can help you with?” You asked him, commenting on his unwelcome stare.
He snarled his top lip as he shook his head and readjusted in his seat. You took a second to look at him, hoping to maybe intimidate him right back. His dark waves still balled up at his neck, the loose strands falling as curls in front of his face and behind his ears. His tightened jaw and cocked eyebrow letting you know he was still sizing you up. His old black Ford Motors t-shirt stretched tightly across his buff chest and arms, the worn holes around the collar letting you know it was well-loved and worn-in.
“So. Elementary school. You were there…” he finally spoke up, lighting another sweet-smelling smoke.
“St. James, yeah. I think you were a couple of years behind me.” You answered, sipping your coffee.
“Mhmm.” He hummed, taking a puff. “You left in the middle of the year.”
“How do you remember that?” You asked, realizing he would have only been in the first grade when you left.
“Because suddenly we didn’t have enough people to have even teams for kickball. You left and we were a man short. Had to ask Willie Addams to play and he couldn’t run for shit. Had the coordination of a fuckin’ baby giraffe.”
You giggled at him, almost spitting out your coffee. “Ok, how do you remember that?” You pressed. “You were like 6.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Jake says I have the memory of an elephant, whatever the fuck that means. Anyway, enough talk about zoo animals. Where were you really headed, Y/N? Before you got stuck here with us…” He leaned again, and you noticed his eyes began anxiously darting around, just like Jake’s had done earlier.
You purposely waited for him to make eye contact with you again, finding it rude that he was looking everywhere but at your face after asking you a question. When he finally did, you answered.
“I was heading to Atlanta. From Salvation, Iowa.” You replied honestly. “Why?”
“People don’t normally just casually cruise back through their hometown unless they’re looking for something.” He said dryly, taking a sip of his coffee. The white ceramic mug looked tiny in his giant inked hand.
“Well I’m not people. I wasn’t looking for anything, I just—”
“So you were running.” He raised his eyebrows again, knowing he had struck some type of gold from the obviously surprised look on your face.
You stayed silent for a beat. He laughed through his nose.
“I wasn’t running, I was…just, getting away. It’s different.” You tried to dismiss his prying questions, wanting nothing more than for Geraldine to bring you a heaping pile of mashed potatoes so you wouldn’t have to go on about your wasted adventure with a man you hardly knew from Adam.
“But you left home for a reason, right?” He went on. “If people plan to move, they usually bring along more than a couple suitcases and their old wedding dress, Y/N. You’re telling me you left your makeup vanity and trunk and sofa at home?”
Fuck. You didn’t wanna talk about this.
When you stayed silent again, he laughed in satisfaction. “You were running.”
You leaned in close. “Look, if you want to know every detail of my life, you’re gonna have to do a little more than invite me to dinner, Daniel.” You spat.
“What if I already planned to do a little more?” He inferred, sitting back against the booth and running his hand along his slicked-back hair.
You choked back. “That’s an awfully forward thing to say to someone you just met.”
“I didn’t just meet you. I knew you in the first grade. And I know I was upset when you weren’t there to play kickball any more.” His eyes began scanning the windows again, jumping back and forth as he spoke. Your heart began racing at his words.
“Why do you care, Danny? About what I’m doing here?” You asked, truly wanting to know.
He shrugged, taking another draw of his smoke. “You seem like a fun little challenge. I like challenges. Mysteries. Cracking codes…”
You scoffed. “Well, you sure as hell ain’t cracking anything of mine.”
“Yeah? We’ll see about that one.” The side of his lips curled up as you caught onto his flirtation. Danny let his smoke hang between his lips as he rubbed his hands together, his fingernails still dirty from the workday.
You were simultaneously turned off and turned on by his strange way of coming on to you; you knew that was what he was doing, but in some odd way, it was charming. You felt safe with him, even if his way of flirting was nothing like anything you’d ever seen before.
In the nick of time, Geraldine brought your plates over, setting them in front of you with harsh thuds. “Alright one sans peas, one extra peas. Refill of coffee, and I’ll be back in a bit to check on ya.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Danny muttered.
You held his deep gaze as you unrolled your silverware from the tight napkin, and dug directly in to the mashed potatoes without hesitation. He licked his tongue across his teeth as he followed your motions. The two of you ate in silence, and you let yourself enjoy the hot meal in front of you, wondering if Danny would let you forgo the motorcycle ride, and just walk home.
After a basically wordless and slightly awkward meal, Danny sat and watched as you finished off your coffee, still pushing a pea around the plate with the end of his fork.
“Good pork chops, right?” He finally asked.
“Might be the best ones I’ve ever had.” You replied honestly. But you had been so hungry, you might’ve thought shoe leather sounded appetizing had you waited any longer. That apple was long gone.
“I wouldn’t steer you wrong.” He growled, another sly smile creeping to his face. He stretched his neck, the thin lines of the spider web tattoo bulging over his artery. “What are your plans for the night?”
You placed your napkin and silverware on top of the empty plate, pushing it back a bit to fold your arms across the table. “Sleep.”
“Well that doesn’t sound like any fun.” He laughed, and if you didn’t know him any better, you would’ve thought he really didn’t believe you.
“What? That’s really all I’m doing…what else would I do?” You asked sternly. “I don’t know anyone, I don’t have a car, this podunk town doesn’t have much to offer, Danny.”
He sighed as he put his elbows on the table, the sleeves of the tight shirt pulling against his biceps. You took a second to glance at his arms, tanned and bronze from the sun. The black-lined and barely-colored tattoos that covered his arms instantly piqued your interest, but you couldn’t let him know you were looking. In your three-second glance, you noticed the set of dice on the inside of his wrist, some type of messy writing along the inside of his forearm, and a tiger’s face peeking out from under the short sleeve of his shirt. And that was only the few your mind comprehended.
“You’re right. Ain’t much here. But it can be a good time if you know what you’re looking for.” He raised his eyebrow in question.
You shook your head. “Not me, thanks. I’d rather not have my face hanging on missing posters around town next week.”
“Why would you say that?” He was taken back.
“Because you haven’t stopped darting your eyes to the door and out the windows since we got here. Your body language is forcibly relaxed, you’re a little on edge, and I think you’re kind of paranoid. I don’t know why, but you don’t seem like you feel safe in your own town, Danny.”
He huffed an exasperated laugh. “Of course I feel safe here, why would I live here if I didn’t?” He said defensively.
“How did you know what room I was in?” You asked, craning your neck sideways. “Jake left before I checked in today. Did you ask Wanda so you could keep tabs on me?”
You clicked your tongue as his eyes bulged from his head at your words. “That’s what I thought. Oh, and you have a switchblade knife stuffed in your boot.”
“How do you know that?” He muttered.
“Saw it when your pants hiked up when you got off the motorcycle.” You pushed the plate a little further back on the table, and grabbed your purse to make your way to the cash register. You pulled a few crumpled dollars from your wallet and tossed them onto the table. You stood and came to the edge of the booth, leaning down close to Danny’s face to whisper. “If I didn’t know any better, it’d seem that you’re the one who’s running, Danny.”
You gave him a displeased look and turned, snaking your way through the empty tables to pay Geraldine for your suppers. “Thank you, sweetie. Y’all have a good rest of your evenin…” Geraldine said as the cash register dinged closed. You gave Bubba another nod before making your way to the door. You glanced back to Danny, who was still sitting stunned in the wooden booth.
“You takin’ me back to the motel, or what?”
——
This time, finding your balance on the motorcycle was easy, like you’d been doing it for a hundred years. Danny hadn’t said a word since you left the diner, only offering Bubba and Geraldine a quiet “goodnight”. You pressed your front against Danny’s back, leaning into him as you wrapped your hands around his lower abdomen and sturdied your feet behind his. You let the shyness from earlier drift away, feeling more confident now that you’d spoken your piece to Danny.
As he picked up speed down the busted pavement, you let your mind wander a bit.
Ha, he thought he had you pegged. Thought you were another dumb female he could trick into his bed. Pshh. Asking you your plans for the night… please. Though going back to your room alone sounded less than exciting now that your stomach was full. And you were more awake than ever…and he had kind of offered…
No. No way. You didn’t know Danny.
‘It can be a good time if you know what you’re looking for…’
No. Horrible idea. Sleep.
Shower, and sleep.
Just as you made your mind up, you felt Danny’s hand run along the outside of your leg again. What is he doing? He wasn’t cautious, he was confident. Like the motion was the most natural thing he’d ever done. You could feel the heat from his hand radiating through the denim of your jeans, and though his touch was unwelcome, you let it happen. Why were you letting it happen?
He didn’t need to pull you forward into him like he had earlier, you were already pressed against him as far as you could get. You watched as his shoulder flexed as his arm reached back and down to your leg, his fingers gliding lightly over your thigh while he steered with his other hand. Shit, the heat of his touch…
You let your chest press into him just a little closer, and the contact made your nipples instantly stand at attention. Your choice to not wear a bra tonight was silently working against you. But damn, you couldn’t deny…this man was attractive. Very attractive. And you already couldn’t deny the physical chemistry between you, his hand so nonchalantly petting your thigh while his other gripped the handlebar.
You felt him take a deep breath, his grip tightening on your leg muscle. You realized your other hand had been resting gently on his stomach, holding on tightly as he navigated the bumpy streets. In an act of pure confidence, you let your thumb drift a few inches down, and loop into the hem of his jeans, your other fingers gripping onto his leather belt. With your motion, his hand tightened again, his thumb swiping back and forth as he let his hand drift further back.
Your mind was frenzied, suddenly your stomach felt tightly wound with an unknown and unwarranted anticipation. Danny removed his hand from your thigh, and kicked his right foot a couple times to shift the bike down. He gripped the bars and turned, and suddenly you were in front of your motel room door. Damn, you hadn’t even noticed you were here already.
He pulled the kickstand down as he shut off the bike, and you quickly pulled your hand from the way-too-intimate place near his groin. He stood and stepped off the bike, and you followed behind. You cleared your throat as you resituated your purse on your shoulder, suddenly feeling exposed. You pulled your jacket over your chest, and reached into your bag to find the room key.
“Thanks for the ride.” You purred.
“Thanks for dinner, I was supposed to pay, you know. I invited you out…”
“No, no. It’s my pleasure, seeing as how you thought of me, and all.” You answered, making your way to unlock the old doorknob. You felt Danny follow behind, walking you to the door. He had shoved his hands in his pockets, and his closed-off demeanor returned, quite the opposite of the confidence he dripped on the bike.
You unlocked the door and pushed it open, flicking on the light inside. Danny stood in the threshold as you dispensed your purse on the table.
“You were right. I did ask Wanda what room you were in. And before you get freaked out, it wasn’t because I was trying to keep tabs on you. Not in the way you’re thinking, at least.” He said, glancing side to side down either way of the sidewalk before he stepped inside the room just a little. “Y/N, look. You’re right. This town can be dangerous. It ain’t a five-star city. There is a lot that goes on behind closed doors here. So yes, I wanted to know where you were because—”
“You want to keep an eye on me. I get it. I owe you and Jake money, still.” You quipped, unsure of how to feel about that.
He nodded slowly, leaning his shoulder on the doorframe as he crossed his flexed arms. “Well, yes, but…It’s more for your well-being, Y/N. That’s all. There are some…shady creatures here.” He mumbled, stepping a little further inside.
You slowly sat down on the bed, feeling the stiff mattress squeak beneath you. His steps were heavy as he came further inside, slowly, his eye contact making you feel like you were going to forget how to breathe. You leaned back on your arms, the gritty brown comforter rough under your fingertips. “Are you one of those…shady creatures?” You asked, barely above a whisper as you found him standing almost directly between your legs.
He lifted his almost completely-inked hand and pushed away a tiny strand of hair that had fallen across your forehead, brushing it back to join the rest of your hair. Your heart rate picked up at his subtle touch, his calloused and dirty fingertips just barely grazing the side of your face. “Guess it depends on who you ask…” his words were slow, his bottom lip biting slowly into his mouth as he spoke.
Your breath caught in your throat, and you instantly felt the same chemistry as earlier begin to ravage your body again. He was towering over you so close, your legs pressed apart by the outsides of his. His knees touched the edge of the bed, and you could tell his hands were arguing with his brain about touching you again. Somewhere. Anywhere.
He pushed your hair back again, drifting his hand down your cheek and finally to your chin, his thumb and pointer working as a team to slowly crane your neck up to look him in the eyes. Your hands were begging you to rake your nails up underneath his tight t-shirt, just to get a feel of what was beneath it. But you didn’t.
“You’re different, aren’t you, Y/N?” He finally whispered.
“Mmm, what do you mean?”
He furrowed his brow as he lightly squeezed your chin between his fingers, his eyes studying every detail of your face.
“I dunno…you just have something about you. Can’t quite put my finger on it yet.” He bit his lip again. You felt a ragged breath escape your lungs, and you hoped to god your body language wasn’t reflecting how you felt right now.
“But, I intend on figuring you out.” His thumb drifted up a bit, barely ghosting over your bottom lip. It took everything in you to not pull it into your mouth, reach your tongue out and taste him, but you stopped yourself. Can’t go there tonight, as much as you really wanted to.
Against every coherent thought, your knees pressed in toward each other, searching for some type of relief, causing Danny’s body to move in a bit closer to you. A low laugh left his chest as he continued to brush his thumb over your lip, pressing a little harder when you made him fall into you. “A fuckin’ gem, aren’t you?”
You swallowed, unsure how to answer. Or how to think, for that matter. This gorgeous man standing between your legs in your hotel room, you barely know him at all…but already you felt like you could grip the soft cotton of his t-shirt and yank him down into the bed beside you, and have your way with him until the sun came up. Because, what do you have to lose?
“Will have a ride for you tomorrow. Get some sleep.” He muttered, his eyelids hooded over his deep brown eyes as he peered down to you. You watched his Adams apple jerk as he swallowed, regaining the same composure you were begging yourself to find. He stepped back and turned to exit through the still-open door. “Lock this behind me.”
And before you could gather even the simplest thought, he was gone.
—
You stood naked in front of the scratched and lopsided hanging mirror in the bathroom, waiting the long five minutes for the shower to heat, just as Wanda had said. Your skin was still flushed from the close intensity from Danny just a few short minutes ago, and your heart rate was just now slowing from the interaction.
Shit. You aren’t supposed to feel these things…you just left Peter. You were on the search to enrich your life, go wild, not add drama and danger to it…
But, you had set out in search of an adventure, could this be it? Could this strange, gritty, already confusing mechanic be your ticket to letting loose? You’d never had those young years to explore yourself and sow your oats; Peter was one of your very first serious boyfriends ever, and one of only a handful of partners you’d had before that. Half of your mind was terrified from Danny’s words of warning, and the other half of you said fuck it, chase it. Why not? What do you honestly have to lose at this point?
You stepped into the now steaming shower and began to suds up the plain white bar of soap that was wrapped up on the countertop. You let the hot streams of water calm your muscles and your nerves as you ran over the events of your crazy day.
‘Will have a ride for you tomorrow…’
What did that mean? You chalked it up to he would probably be picking you up again in the morning to go back to the garage to give a down payment, or something. Either way, you’d wake up to a new day, and you were already hoping it’d be just as eventful as today.
——
The growling sound of an engine outside the motel startled you from your daydream as you watched the picture on the television blur and scatter back and forth. A glance at your watch told you it was 10am exactly, and you walked to the peephole to see who had pulled up.
It wasn’t the person you expected to see. You unlocked the door and swung it open, the still misty morning air chilling your face.
“Jake, morning. What are you—”
“You ready to sign your quote? I’m ordering the parts today.” He interrupted as he slammed his truck door shut.
“Yeah, yeah. Just let me grab my bag.” You stepped back inside, slightly confused; you fully expected to see Danny pull up on his motorcycle to whisk you away again.
You stepped outside and locked the door behind you, and you and Jake both hopped up into the truck. Jake was silent again, and you were coming to realize he didn’t speak unless it was completely necessary, or unless spoken to. He was a man of few words, but you gathered that he probably wasn’t being outwardly rude, just was his nature to be quiet. You hoped, at least.
He reached down and cranked his window, the air blowing his freshly-showered scent around in the cab of the truck. The scent of Brut after-shave tingled in your nose; you’d know that smell anywhere. It made you look his way, seeing that his skin was actually visible now that he wasn’t covered in grease and dirt. His hand gripped the tree, shifting it to third as his speed leveled out on the road.
His hands were completely covered in tattoos just like Danny’s were, and they crawled up his wrist and forearm, all the way to his shoulder and into his neck. His cutoff t-shirt exposed his chest and side, also covered in a swirling piece of art that was laced with deep reds and blues. There were hundreds of them. And you were willing to bargain that each and every one had a story.
His ever-present cigarette hung between his lips as he stayed focused on the road, his shoulder length locks whipping around in the wind. You hadn’t seen him like this yet…clean, natural, and normal. His demeanor was the same as it was yesterday, straightforward and no-nonsense.
“That’s yours, if you want it.” He gestured between you on the bench seat, pointing to a large biscuit wrapped up in wax paper. “I couldn’t eat two.”
“Oh, that’s nice of you. Thanks.” You began to unwrap it and tear off little pieces, bringing them shyly to your mouth. “Didn't poison it, did you?”
He huffed what you think was a laugh through his nose. “No. If you died I’d have to steal the part money from your purse, and I don’t want to do that.” Was that his attempt at a joke?
You giggled, again unsure how to take him.
“Where’s Danny? I figured he’d be the one scooping me up after last night.” You asked, taking another bite of biscuit.
His head shot your way, his eyes narrowed. “Last night?”
“Yeah, he picked me up on his bike, we got some food at Louie’s. Said he’d be back today.” Now that you thought about it, he never actually said he would be the one picking you up, just that there would be a ride for you here today.
“Ah, so he took you on a date.” Jake muttered, his voice low again over the radio.
“No, it wasn’t a date. He just invited me to eat with him. Knew I shouldn’t walk through town to get food by myself. He was being thoughtful.” You suddenly felt defensive of Danny.
“Thoughtful. So, a date.” Jake responded, blowing smoke out the window before flicking the cigarette onto the road.
“So what if it was?” You decided to play along. “What would it matter?”
He shook his head with a mock laugh. “Danny is a nice guy, but he doesn’t take women on dates. That I can assure you.”
You felt offended. “So, what, just a one night stand kind of guy?”
Jake let a one-syllable laugh fall from his lips as he raised his eyebrows, shifting back down to make the tight turn up the hill to the shop. “Guess you could say that.”
Why was he always so vague?
Just as you were nearing the shop, Jake reached his arm across the bench seat and across your lap, leaning almost all the way onto you to crank the window all the way down. He rolled the handle quickly, his bicep muscle flexing hard right in front of your eyes.
“Oh, sorry, I could have done that–” you sputtered.
“It’s a son of a bitch to roll, requires a little bit of elbow grease.” He said before throwing the truck in park and shutting off the engine. “I’ve got your paperwork ready, all you have to do is sign for the total and put half down. Rest will be due when it’s fixed.”
He was halfway out of the truck and still talking, so you clambered your way out, too, to make sure you caught the tail end of what he was saying. The two of you walked into the shop, vehicles already pulled into the bay with the hoods popped. Loud music was coming from an old radio on a high shelf, an old Johnny Cash song bouncing off the walls.
“Daniel, can you please turn that fucking shit down? Jesus Christ!” Jake yelled.
You watched as Danny’s curls emerged out from underneath an old Cadillac, his feet pushing him out as he laid on a creeper. He gave you a quick tiny smile when you made upside-down eye contact.
“When you open the shop on time and get in here when you’re fuckin’ supposed to, maybe I’ll consider your goddamn propositions, Jake. I mean shit, we live here.” He rolled all the way out and stood from the creeper, watching as Jake slowly ascended the old metal stairs on the side of the building. “I’ve been the only one here since fuckin’ 7:00. Why the fuck would I turn my music down if I’m the only one getting my fuckin’ hands dirty?” Danny spat.
You looked up onto the lofted area of the shop, watching as Jake topped the steps and walked across, flipping Danny the bird from above before looking to you and switching his middle finger to his pointer, signaling for you to ‘come here’, and follow him up the stairs.
You hopped into action, making your way to the staircase to follow Jake to the top. When you got up there, you looked around to find this was the office area. Tons and tons of old papers stacked away in messy piles, collecting dust and dirt. Boxes that held forgotten parts, shelves filled to the brim with old 3-ring binders, dusty photos on the wall, and in the center of it all, an old wooden desk with a chair that had seen better days. You watched as Jake pulled the string hanging from a single fluorescent light, plopping into the chair as the light buzzed to life.
He pulled on a pair of thin wired readers, peering down to a ledger that looked similar to the one Wanda took your room reservation in. He was fingering through a parts manual and double checking his work on a calculator, so you took a second to look at a few of the black and white photos hanging framed on the wall.
One, a larger photo, hung right in the middle of the rest. It was a man in a white tank top, dirty as can be, a pair of old slacks pulled up to his belly button. He was leaned with his back against an old black Chevelle, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He wasn’t smiling, just standing stoically with his arms crossed across his chest. He looked strikingly exactly like Jake, except the photo must have been taken when the man was a bit older than Jake is now.
“Jake, this man looks just like you…is he—”
“Was. My father, yes.” He said, voice flat.
“Handsome…” you muttered. “Was this his shop before it was yours?”
He nodded, still looking to his ledger. “Yeah. Ace.”
You pulled your eyes from the photo, walking slowly back to the desk. “Ace…Ace’s garage. How long has he…been gone?” You wanted to put the words right back into your mouth as soon as they left it. It wasn’t any of your business.
“He died the day before my eighteenth birthday. You wanna come sign here?” Jake said, extending a pen out for you.
Damn, Jake. That’s heavy.
You walked over to take a look at the estimate, seeing that the price was actually not as much as you thought it would be. “So half now, half when it’s done?” You reiterated, signing your name across the slip of paper.
“Yep.” He responded shortly.
You reached into your purse and pulled out the white envelope of your cash, counting it out in hundreds and fifties. As you slowly counted out loud, you took special care to run your fingers over the stiff new bills, making sure none stuck together. In the middle of them all was an old fifty dollar bill, a giant red “X” drawn across the President’s face.
“Someone didn’t like Grant, I guess.” You laughed, trying to break the awkward silence as he watched you count.
When you were finally finished, you gathered the bills up and handed them to Jake in a nice neat stack. “Thanks.” He said, taking the cash and stuffing it in a till box before shoving it in a safe.
“Thank you. Hey, think I could use your restroom really quickly?” You asked, feeling like your bladder was about to burst with shitty motel room coffee.
He threw his glasses down onto the table and pulled the light off, giving you a funny look before leading you back toward the stairs again. “Only bathroom here is mine and Danny’s, probably ain’t the cleanest.” He said as he quickly jumped down the steps.
“It’s no problem.” You answered. How bad could it be?
He led you underneath the loft and through a door, into a dark hallway with multiple doors. “Last one on the left.” Jake hit the wall with his palm before walking back into the bay.
This must be the part they live in. As you passed by the other doors, one was closed, and the other was cracked open to reveal what looked to be a messy bedroom. A mattress on the floor covered in disheveled blankets, liquor bottles on the makeshift nightstand, and clothes strewn about.
When you finally reached the bathroom door, what you found inside was nothing short of disgusting. Although he had warned you…
One light bulb hanging from the ceiling, the sink full of hair and stained black from the grease off their hands, a completely black toothpaste tube that didn’t have a lid, flattened toothbrushes that were missing half of their bristles…
The list went on as you looked around in utter disgust. Men are so gross. You were positive the place had never been cleaned.
You swallowed and held your breath as you opened the broken toilet lid, finding it less-than-desirable with a ring in the bowl. You shuddered at what you were about to do, but if you didn’t pee right now you were going to have to resort to the woods out back. Would probably be cleaner out there, actually…but at least there is toilet paper.
You tried not to think too hard about it as you quickly relieved yourself, using a small piece of toilet paper to touch the lever handle to flush.
“Ew ew ew ew.” You mumbled, deciding to not even wash your hands at the risk of dirtying them further. But even if you had, your drying options were toilet paper or their stained to hell bath towels hanging over the rod.
You were entirely grossed out, and decided to get back out to the bay as soon as you could. You flicked the light switch and reentered the hallway, noticing that the closed door across the way was opening at the same time.
To your surprise, a woman emerged from the room, slowly closing the door behind her. She had to be about ten years your senior, at least.
“Hey, Sug.” She murmured, rubbing sleep from her eyes. When she turned to face you, you noticed what she was wearing.
Danny’s black Ford Motors t-shirt he had on last night.
Your stomach dropped, suddenly it hit you exactly why he wasn’t the one picking you up this morning.
You gave her a tight smile and a simple “Good morning” as her keys jingled in her hand. Her makeup was definitely left over from last night, and she was carrying a pair of red high heels.
“I haven’t seen you ‘round here before…” she said, her voice still raspy with sleep.
“Oh, I’m…I’m a customer. They’re fixing my car. Just was…using the restroom.” You explained.
“Oh honey, no one’s ever just a customer…” She winked, before leading the two of you back out into the bay.
Whose room did she just come from?
—
JAKE POV
Fuck this god damn piece of shit Chevrolet.
Two weeks you’ve been working on this fuckin’ truck, and in those two weeks you had gotten barely anything accomplished with rebuilding the motor. And now you had another to do on top of it.
Isn’t it supposed to be Fords that have engine trouble? American muscle my ass. They’re all shit.
You stepped up onto the step ladder and peered back down into the belly of your newest arch-nemesis, cursing at its guts with every turn of your wrench. You look down to the floor spitting before turning your attention back under the hood.
Come on Ace. What is wrong with this son of a bitch? Help me out…
You glanced over to Danny, watching as he walked outside to empty his stomach again after the late night he’d had. Out all night drinking with his latest piece, stumbling back into the shop at 3am. Then he was back up at 7? You weren’t sure where he got his stamina…maybe he just didn’t sleep at all.
As you compiled the list of parts you’d need for Y/N’s engine last night, Danny swung by your office to tell you he was leaving, only to peer over your shoulder and see her name at the top of the Quote sheet.
“She’s a fuckin’ smokeshow…”
“Can you please try not to sleep with this one? She seems like a decent human being… You don’t have to sleep with all of them you know.” you’d joked.
“Jesus, Jake. I’m not that bad of a person. Cut me some slack. Just cause you haven’t gotten laid in few months doesn’t mean you have to shit on me…”
You’d pushed up from your chair and slammed your hands into his shoulders, pushing him back against the wall behind you, but his height was no match for you.
“Fuck you, Daniel. Just…listen to me. I saw her making eyes at you…Don’t fuck this up for us.” you said.
“Did you really?” You’d watched as his gears began to turn. “What was her room number?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know, Danny. You’re not going to her motel. Just leave her be.” You tried your best to warn him nicely. “Like you told me, she’s a paying customer. We need her to pay us…”
He sighed when he realized. “Shit. You’re right, damnit. Okay, okay. I won’t go.”
But, from the conversation you had with Y/N on the ride in this morning, you realized the fucker lied to you. He went anyway and she was clearly all about it.
You wanted to warn her. You tried to tell her that Danny was a one night stand type, that he didn’t wine and dine like the regular guy would, but apparently she didn’t listen, either.
As a bolt finally popped loose, it fell into the engine, tipping you over the edge of insanity.
Fuck! This! Truck!
You jumped off of the ladder and went over to the fridge under the loft, grabbing a cold Budweiser from the dirty shelf. You held the neck of the amber bottle on the edge of your toolbox, smashing your fist down on the lid, effectively popping it off. You tilted it back, letting the cold beverage run down your throat as you swallowed. Nothing like a breakfast beer.
Just then, you heard the shop door close and two sets of footsteps making their way out. All you could do was watch as the perfect storm brewed right in front of your eyes. How the fuck was he gonna explain this one... Y/N, Danny, and whoever his woman of the night was, all waltzing into the middle of the bay at the exact same time. As you caught sight of the woman you let out a scoff.
Fuck, Danny.
Tanya. The woman that lived in that house down on Robertson, hardly any personality at all, great tits, and apparently she was a panther in bed. Or so you’d heard. She was nice enough, and Danny always ended up bringing her around every couple of months. You didn’t dislike her, but you sure as hell didn’t want to be her friend, either. You didn’t trust her as far as you could throw her, and last you heard, she was involved with some folks you didn’t need to be associating with.
You paused with your beer in hand, sticking the other in your pocket as you watched the scene unfold. Your fingers twirled around a lug nut as your eyes followed Tanya, walking directly up to Daniel, wrapping her long skinny arms around his neck, and pulling him in for one last long, and especially involved, goodbye kiss. This wasn’t her typical goodbye, and you knew she was marking her territory in front of Y/N. Which is why you laughed, knowing that she wouldn’t hear from Daniel for at least a month. However, it wasn’t lost on you, the tense nature of Daniel’s body as she kissed him. His eyes open wide and looking across the bay towards Y/N.
Your eyes drifted directly to Y/N, watching as her face fell into utter disbelief. Her jaw fell slack for a second before she clamped it shut again, obviously feeling something unexpected from the sight in front of her. Whatever little daydream she had dreamed up between the two of them had all just come crashing down.
You noticed she suddenly felt out of place, bringing her embarrassed eyes to meet yours in question. You smirked, raising an eyebrow as you sipped your beer as smugly as you could. You shrugged your shoulders and raised your beer bottle in the air towards her as you watched her face flame red.
Hate to say I told ya so, baby.
—
HER POV
You have got to get out of here.
But where the hell are you gonna go?
You let your feet carry you out the bay garage door out into the heat of the day, wanting to be anywhere but inside that damn building right now. Why did it matter? Why did you care?
The moment you and Danny shared last night was anything but fantastic, but it was still there. It was intimate, though he had done nothing but skim his fingertips across your face.
You didn’t care. It’s no big deal.
But why did he look at you while he kissed her? And why was Jake so amused by it?
You stomped across the dirt parking lot to your Scout, flinging the door open to dig around and find anything that could offer up a distraction. You unzipped a suitcase, finding all of your clothing still neatly folded and tucked away. Underneath a pair of old ratted bell bottoms, you pulled out your ticket to diversion from Danny for the rest of the day: Maya Angelou’s complete collection of poems.
Perfect.
The book was worn around the edges, you had read it so much as a kid. You practically had every poem memorized.
After replacing your folded clothing neatly back in the suitcase, you decided you had to make your way back inside at some point…you knew they had a full workday ahead, and it would be rude to ask for a ride back to the motel at this point.
You slammed the door shut, shielding your eyes from the bright sun directly above. The shadowy silhouette of Tanya was walking toward you as you walked toward the building, still barefoot and wobbly as she crept across the dirt and gravel toward the road. You swallowed hard, knowing an interaction was unavoidable at this point.
“Catch ya around, sweetcheeks.” She said as your paths crossed. She let her body come close to yours, her shoulder bumping into your chest as she stumbled. “And just so ya know, the tall, dark, and handsome one?” She pointed her finger tip into her own chest. “Mine. Got it, Iowa?”
You snarled your nose up to her at her display; you could still smell the liquor on her breath from last night. Her eyes were hazed and obviously still high on whatever it was she was doing the night before.
“No worries on my end.” You said blankly, wanting to get the hell away from her while simultaneously wanting to punch her in the face for assuming you wanted Danny.
You kept walking past her back into the shop, walking on the other side of the truck Jake was working on to stay as far away from Danny as you could. You didn’t want to risk him noticing that you even cared.
You sat down in one of the ratty, dirty lawn chairs alongside the wall where Jake was working, getting as comfortable as you could before opening your book. You wanted to get lost in the words, letting them bring you back down to earth in a way only poetry could.
You glanced to Danny as he stepped up on the wall of shelves on his side of the bay, reaching high above his head to turn the knob on his radio up to a higher volume. He hopped down, a giant cheesing smile across his face as ‘Fortunate Son’ blared from the speaker. Jake slowly raised his head from under the hood of the truck, shaking it from side to side as he stared Danny down. You realized then that’s why Danny put his stereo up so high, so that Jake physically couldn’t reach it.
You flipped the pages of your book for the next half hour or so, letting Maya’s words take you to another planet entirely. You listened to the sounds of their socket wrenches and power tools as they worked away, providing a surprisingly relaxing background sound.
“Whatcha reading?” Jake’s voice was barely audible over the loud noises around you. You closed the book cover, holding your fingers between the pages to keep your spot.
“Maya Angelou’s poems. Kinda corny, I know. But–”
“The caged bird sings with fearful trill
of the things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.”
Your jaw fell open as Jake finished reciting Maya’s most famous poem to a tee, not faltering over any word and pausing at the most perfect times for the poem to hold its structure.
He hadn’t pulled his focus away from what he was doing until he realized you didn’t respond, then grinned a smile so big it made your heart stop.
“How did you…? You know Ms. Angelou?”
“My mom loved her. Read me her poems as a kid before I could even walk. I don’t remember the sound of my mom’s voice, but those words stuck with me.” He said, only glancing up to you every few words as he kept focused.
You were floored. This was not something you expected from Jake, let alone for him to open up about his explanation as to why he knew of her work. You felt a warmth in your stomach…maybe there was something sweet under his tough exterior after all.
After a bit, the shop telephone started ringing. You looked to both of the guys as they worked, realizing neither of them even noticed it was ringing. Maybe the phone doesn’t work? A couple minutes later, it started again, ringing and ringing off the hook for so long the shrillness started to irritate your ears.
“Do you want me to go get that, or what?” You asked. Jake scoffed an exasperated sigh, hopping backwards off his step stool as he pulled his red towel from his back pocket of his coveralls. He wiped his hands as best he could as he rushed up the steps to answer it.
You glanced to Danny, watching as he leaned over the hood of the car he was working on, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his arm. You hadn’t made eye contact or spoken since Tanya left a while ago, and you had to admit, it pissed you off a little. After last night’s…moment… he at least owed you something, right?
Once he noticed Jake was all the way upstairs, he confidently walked over your way, twirling his own towel in his hands. “You gonna let me buy you lunch today?” He asked.
“Why should I do that?” You answered blankly, not looking up from your book.
“Because I’m hungry, I know you’re hungry, and you bought dinner. It’s only fair.” He was so matter of fact.
“Are you not meeting back up with Miss Red High Heels for lunch today?” Shit. Your attitude ended up getting the better of you.
“Who, Tanya?” He asked, pointing his thumb behind him. “Fuck, no. She’s just–”
“A good lay?” You inquired, pulling your eyes up to him finally, flicking your eyelashes in the most sarcastic way you could.
He let his arms fall to his sides in defeat. “Listen, Y/N. Just let me take you to lunch, please? I promise I’ll be the perfect gentleman.” He finished the end of his sentence with a smirk and a wink, instantly making your insides swirl. What the hell is he doing to you?
“Alright, I guess. But only because I’m hungry, not because I want to hang out with you.” You gave him a side smile as you agreed.
You watched as he leaned his elbows down on the side panel of the truck Jake was working on, resting his chin in his hand.
“Mmm, I bet you do want to hang out with me though, especially if you let me a little further into your motel room after…”
“We gotta close up.” Suddenly Jake was bounding down the stairs, his steps heavy as he barrelled toward you and Danny. “Close it up, let’s go.” He slammed the hood of the truck down as soon as Danny had backed off of it enough.
You stood from your chair in surprise. “Why, what’s wrong?”
You watched as Danny shoved his towel into his pocket, his expression immediately turning into alarm.
“Fuck, was it Teddy on the phone?” He asked Jake as he ran around, closing the lid on his tool box and wheeling it under the loft.
“Yeah, it was fuckin’ Teddy. Hurry up.” Jake hastily walked to the bay door, pulling on the long chain to lower the large garage doors down to the ground with a slam.
“What’s going on? Who is Teddy?” You asked in a panic as they ran around you like chickens with their heads cut off.
Danny closed all the doors on the vehicles in the bay, and threw a large black tarp over the motorcycle he had propped up on a block. They tossed all the rogue tools into the appropriate boxes, shutting the lids as they did so.
What the fuck is going on?!
Anxiety began to creep into your chest as you watched them rush around in a panic.
After a few minutes of fury, they met in the middle of the bay, in a fit of panted exhaustion and sweaty skin. They stood with their hands on their hips, looking around the shop. Jake pulled his Lucky Strikes from his pocket, nervously lighting one up with a zippo he pulled from his pocket.
“Fuck!” He muttered as the smoke left his lungs. “Did we miss anything?” He asked Danny rhetorically.
“No, how long do we have? Do they want a game?”
“Yeah, they want a fuckin’ game. They’ll be here at sunset. Shit.” Jake answered, both of their eyes still darting around in shifted motions.
Finally, at the same time, their eyes landed on you standing before them in complete and utter shock.
“Have her help you set up, then take her back to my bedroom. Lock the door.” Jake finally commanded Danny.
“No, are you fuckin’ stupid? I’m taking her back to the motel, she’ll be safe there.” Danny argued.
“No, god damnit! She’s staying here where we can keep an eye on her, the last thing we need is fucking free collateral, Danny. She stays here and hides.”
“Hides?! Wait, what the fuck–” your heart began pounding.
“If she’s here, they’ll know we’re hiding something, Jake! They aren’t stupid! If she’s back at the motel at least she’s far enough away—” Danny was raising his voice to Jake now in opposition, their chests almost touching as they spat in each other’s faces.
“Daniel, are you fuckin’ mental? You know Wanda isn’t trustworthy anymore. And Tanya was just here! You know Bubba found out who she’s been hanging around. And she saw Y/N! You think it’s a coincidence that two hours later, we get a call from Teddy?! Are you fuckin’ stupid?” Jake slammed a screwdriver across the floor, letting it bounce and glide across the concrete until it hit the wall. He stepped away from Danny, walking toward the back of the bay to continue what he was doing.
“I told you to stay away from that fucking crowd, and what did you do? Bring one of them back with you to fuck into the mattress all night.” Jake yelled, and you watched as Danny lurched his way toward him.
But before Danny could make it, Jake turned and held his elbow out, catching Danny’s body across the chest. “Don’t fucking come up on me like that Daniel, I swear to god. Go set up the fucking table, or get the fuck out of my shop. Take your pick.” Jake spat into his face.
Danny begrudgingly backed away, his hands balled into fists. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”
Jake’s demeanor instantly softened. “You better fucking not.” He mumbled, licking his lips. Jake motioned with his eyes for Danny to retreat to the back, just like he had asked.
Danny breezed past you as he walked, catching your arm and pulling you along as he did so.
“Come on, need your help.” He muttered.
You ripped your arm from his grasp, flinging it away with as much force as you could muster.
“Danny! Tell me what the hell is going on or I am leaving!” You yelled in his face, purely enraged that they were leaving you 100% out of the picture, while deciding what to do with you.
He sighed, eyes darting around again. “I promise you, I will explain everything soon. And I promise, I will take you on that lunch date.” His hand came up and brushed your elbow, while the other pulled your hair away from your face. His touch was so gentle, while he had just been seconds away from a brawl with Jake. His eyes bored deep into yours, somehow soft while yours were filled with fear.
“We’re gonna keep you safe. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, you hear me?” He was gripping hard at your shoulders now, talking like he was hyping himself up instead of you. “I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?”
“Danny… I–I don’t even know you…” you mumbled, your fight or flight beginning to kick in as the sounds of Jake banging loud things together in the bay echoed off the walls.
“Yeah you do, you know me. You knew me a long time ago.” His eyes shot to Jake again, still loudly throwing tools into containers. Suddenly his face was close to yours, his grip on your arms now almost an embrace.
“I’m not a bad guy, Y/N. I swear I’m not. I’m just…” he winced as he searched for the words. “Listen, I like you, and even though you’ve only been around a day or two, you’ve been the only thing on my mind since the minute you pulled up at the shop, okay? You...you make me nervous. And people don’t make me nervous.” He licked his lips as his hands gripped the sides of your head. “But right now, I’m asking you to trust me. If not completely, just until tomorrow, okay? Please?” He pleaded.
Fuck, did you have a choice?
You threw all caution to the wind as your mind fought against every red flag presenting itself. You nodded quickly. “Okay. Okay, shit.” you finally agreed.
Danny’s expression fell straight to relief as he gripped his large, grease-covered hands over yours, pulling you back to their living quarters in a hurry.
“Then let’s go. We don’t have much time.”
.
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✨ Cruel Summer ✨
pairing: Solo Sikoa x reader, Jey Uso x reader (briefly)
AN: Literally making this for myself, so if I do ever end up publishing - enjoy I guess? 🤪
w/c: 1198
⚠️ Warnings: 18+ , swearing, violence (this is the WWE after all) slight smut, infidelity(if you squint), jealous Jey, toxic behaviour, bad/embarrassing writing ⚠️
doesn’t follow a specific timeline however it is more recent, total divas making a return.
✨ I love you ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard - he looks up grinning like the devil ✨
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“I dunno Trin, the thought of being recorded for 12 hours of the day, like, I enjoy my privacy”.
“Think about it as an opportunity, having the fans see a different side of you. Showing them how hard you work your ass off.”
Trinity is my best friend, she helped me out so much when I joined the WWE 6 years ago. She and her husband Jon took me into their family and helped me adapt into the crazy world of being a WWE superstar.
“Just think about it is all I’m saying. It’ll be fun” trin says nudging me.
Ever since I moved here, we have had a weekly tradition of Wednesday Girls Night, its just snacks, Chinese takeout, and movies, it’s just time for us to catch up and wind down from the gruelling travel schedule.
Right on queue at exactly 11:30pm Jon walks in the door.
“Times up ladies” he says, which is swiftly followed by two pillows being thrown at his head.
“Come on uce, you know better than to interrupt gIrLs NiGhT”
The couch beside me dipped and once again I felt the heat from the body of Josh Fatu, my one weakness. His hand falls to his side and creeps closer to me caressing the side of my bare thigh. You see what people don’t know is Josh and I have an ‘agreement’ - no feelings, just sex and friendship, and it was going great until it wasn’t, feeling were caught, specifically by me and I’m stuck between a rock and hard place as I’m falling hard for him, but I cant let this agreement end because I would rather have him this way than not have him at all.
“Spoke with Joe today, Hunter is bringing him up to the main roster, can’t wait to have my other younger brother fighting by my side”. A third pillow is thrown at Jon from the direction of Josh.
“We are twins, and you are only older by 8 minutes”.
Never a dull moment where the Fatu boys are concerned.
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First day of filming (TD Interview Segment)
Okay, so lets start with a basic intro okay? Ready, go!
The room falls silent the light shines bright on me, I have at least 6 pair of eyes on me, goading me into starting. Gosh why did I sign up to do this!!!
Hi there, my names yn, I am currently on the Smackdown roster and I am the current WWE Women’s Champion.
I’ve been with the WWE for 6 years now and I wouldn’t have survived if it wasn’t for my adoptive sister Trinity, she took me under her wing and I’ve been there ever since. As you guys know – and if you didn't know, the accent should be a huge giveaway, I’m originally from the United Kingdom, I came to the states with a dream in hand and no one there to help me through this bumpy ride. I can never repay her or Jon for the way they have accepted and welcomed me into their little dynamic. Although, travelling the world with Jon and Josh is hard work, they boys are chaotic, I don't know how Trin managed to do it herself for so long!
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Friday Night Smackdown, Atlanta Georgia, 8 weeks before Survivor Series
Walking into the arena for Smackdown I get a message from Hunter asking to meet him in his office. A mixture of anxiety and curiosity fill in the pit of my stomach. In his office I’m met with the familiar faces of Jon, Josh, and Joseph, smiling I look over to Hunter who invites me to sit.
“I got your message, what’s up?
“We have been toying with the idea of a cross brand rivalry - for Survivor Series. Now that Joe has come up to the main roster, we think the Usos and Solo v The Judgement Day would pique interest from the WWE universe.”
“So why am I here?”
“Demi is the Women’s World Champion and part of Judgment Day; it would only seem right that she faces the Women’s Champion”.
Without hesitation I accept. Hunter debriefs us on how it’s going to play out over the next few weeks. We will have to be on both RAW and Smackdown over the next few weeks, so looks like it will be me and the brothers travelling together since Trin is exclusive to Smackdown!
Gorilla, few hours later (TD segment)
Tonight, I have a singles match, however Demi has to interfere and cost me the match – thus starting our road to Survivor Series.
I see Hunter in his usual place over at the screens with his headset on talking to Randy Orton, Randy spots me and immediately comes over to me.
“There’s my favourite girl.”
“I wouldn’t let your wife hear you say that Randy”.
Randy Orton, he is exactly how you would imagine him to be, a cocky little shit, flirtatious as hell, a menace but he has a heart of gold. Many nights we would hit the gym together and training with him before his injury really improved my in-ring ability. He is another one I would call my family away from family.
A familiar scent fills my nostrils, Josh. He stands next to me wrapping his arm around me pulling me closer, as if to stake his claim in me.
“I’ve been looking for you, come on let’s go”.
I smile apologetically at Randy, he just waves me off laughing, as much as I say people don’t know anything about me and Josh, it’s not to say there isn’t rumours flying around, people have their own take on it, and that’s okay, we just laugh it off.
Trin and Jon (TD Interview segment)
“You see yn and josh think they are so slick hiding their little late-night rendezvous” says Jon
Trin sighing, “I just wish they would bang their heads together and realise they are meant to be. Think of the double dates we could finally have Jon.”
Jon’s laugh fills the small interview room, “yeah it would be sweet, and yn is already like family, it would be an easy transition.”
Away from the cameras
“What were you talking to Randy about?” Josh quizzes
“Nothing, you came in and ushered me away before I could say anything.”
“Good, I don’t like it when you get attention from other guys, just me, okay?”
“I think you’ll find Josh that I can speak to who I like”. I say frustrated with his behaviour.
You see as much as I love Josh, this, this right here the way he wants to have his cake and eat it too drives me insane. I so much as look at another guy and he is right there to remind me I’m his, yet he can look at and speak to as many girls and I can’t say shit.
“I’ve got a match to get to, I’ll see you later J.”
“Goodluck out there baby girl, not that you need it.” Before he can come any closer to me, I slip out the room and let my frustrated sigh out. How much longer am I going to keep torturing myself.
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#solo sikoa smut#solo sikoa#solo sikoa x reader#solo silos x yn#solo sikoa x you#jey uso x reader#jey uso#wwe fanfiction#wwe#fan fiction#jey uso smut#wweedit#the usos#total divas#solo sikoa fan fiction#jey uso fan fiction#Fatu#josh Fatu#Joseph Fatu#wwe x reader
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𝐈 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ❛𝐓𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞
Summary ➳ Daryl has many regrets and he carries them everyday and everywhere but this is one that’s going to stick with him for many lifetimes.
(A/n) ➳ Inspired by “Blue Jeans” by Lana Del Rey. So… What do you guys think? P.S, I did change the title, I didn’t think it fit.
Word Count ➳ 1k
Content Warnings ➳ Female Reader/No use of (Y/n), typical TWD violence, blood, death, swearing, injuries, HEAVY ANGST, mentions of hunting animals, murder, no happy ending oops…
The last time Daryl remembered crying like he did when carrying your corpse was when he saw Merle as a Walker.
During the start of the outbreak, Daryl wanted to find you, he was willing to use all resources available for you. Merle had to stop him, reminding him that looking for you was a lost cause, but Merle praised you for your skills. You weren’t a good tracker but damn did you know how to put up a fight.
And so, every time Daryl got the chance to explore the abandoned city of Atlanta or any place, he would look for you even if it was just a sign. He refused to believe what anyone said about you and or mostly likely demise.
With an extra map that he stole, he would map out the possible courses that would direct them to you. Even if he was wrong in all of them, he was able to find one thing.
It was blue.
It was a crossbow arrow with blue fletching, ones he got for you. Each one of them was carved with both of your initials. It was a couple of weeks before the outbreak when Daryl decided to teach you how to hunt and he was surprised at how terrible you were. He took every opportunity to laugh at your horrible aim and how you scared every animal away.
“Yer gonna die if some shit happens!” Daryl snickered at you, grabbing your hands to lower your aim.
“I’m tryin’ dammit!”
“One more- Don’t start givin’ up on me.”
It was only when you started learning when the outbreak happened, that you were lost in the panic, unable to use any phones. And when you went back to the cabin Daryl shared with Merle, it was empty, cleaned out.
But you were determined to make it out and get back to him, even if you had to lose a couple of limbs. You didn’t have time to grow trust, it was do or die, and you didn’t want to die. You stuck around for the first group and stayed with the second—a big mistake.
Daryl kept the arrows close, nearly refusing to use them unless he was sure he was going to get them back. His pattern continued, map and search, search and map.
He reached another deserted city, he didn’t bother to look at names anymore. First, he scavenged for supplies, maybe food until he caught the color blue in the corner of his eye.
He saw another arrow. He confirmed it was yours by the carving, but then he saw another and then another and another…
Some were etched into the walls of the building, laid on the ground, and deep into the dead Walkers. He followed the trail, his crossbow high, he didn’t want to take any chances.
He could hear panting, he could see their shadows scurrying around the room. Hell, they were even laughing. He was caught off guard until one of them came at him from around the corner, he shot with ease, and the arrow lodged into the attacker’s thigh. He hurled it over in pain, clutching it.
“The hell’s the matter with you?!” The attacker shouted.
Daryl only rolled his eyes and shook his head, ready to turn a blind eye until he saw the assailant carrying a crossbow as well and-
Your arrows. Each caving on display.
Daryl dropped his, grabbing the man by his shirt. “Where the hell did ya get these?” He demanded to know. “How?!”
A woman suddenly gripped his arms, beginning to cry. “Please! Let us go!” She begged. “We’re jus’ tryin’ to survive! Look for our families!”
“Ya wanna live another day?” Daryl grabbed his pocket knife, bringing it to his throat. “Y’all gon tell me how ya got these.”
It was like some horrific joke.
“W-We jus’ wanted ‘er help! But she refused us!”
“And where is she?!”
“The cunt’s dead! Like the rest of ‘em!”
You were right where he said you’d be.
You were propped up against the wall. You took an arrow to your calf, arm, and your neck. The blood leaking out of your mouth was starting to dry. You must’ve bled out while they were taking your things, leaving you for dead.
And you were.
Daryl sobbed, his whole body shaking as he fell to the ground. He reached to touch your face, just barely warm. Your eyes no longer held any life in them. He sounded as if he was in pain, his chest turned as he whispered your name, practically begging for you to come back to him.
He cradled your corpse in his arms, something he wanted to do for some time but he was too chicken to even ask. He was too late.
He could no longer ask you to hunt with him, go on a midnight bike ride, take a smoke with him, or let him pour his heart out for you.
The bastards’ bodies were enough for him, even when he did finish the job on both. It wasn’t enough.
He collected your arrows first, took your body into his arms, and brought you to the rooftop of the highest building to lay your body. He remembered vividly how you loved the night sky, he didn’t understand it but that night, he did.
He took in every detail, how every start shined and glimmered. He only wished he could get your input.
But when the sun started to come up, he took your body back down and made a pyre to burn your body. But before he did, he placed a kiss on your lips, whispering words into your ear before he lit the match.
“I love you.”
And as long as he was alive, his love for you wasn’t going anywhere. He would walk this world with regret and guilt until his time was up.
Maybe in the next lifetime, he will have the courage to say those words. But it ain’t gonna be in this one.
© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.
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Tomorrow's promise
Pairing: Daryl Dixon × OC, Rick Grimes × sister OC
Warnings: Swearing
Chapter: 3.09
While ducking behind a crate of wood, you use the scope on your rifle. You keep watch for any signs of an attack while waiting on your brothers, Daryl and Hershel, returning to the prison. Somehow Andrea had managed to arrange a sit-down between the governor and Rick, something you were highly against.
“Any sign of my brother yet?”
Hearing Merle’s voice, you roll your eyes and say, “No, not yet.”
“Hmm.” He leans against the fence, making himself an easy target. “Listen, girly, what happened before—kidnapping you and all—it was strictly business.”
“What’s done is done.”
“You’re a lot more snapper than Rick; anybody ever tell you that? I bet Shane did. Yeah, I remember that judgmental deputy well. I never would have pictured you two together. Oh well, at least we are all one big happy family now, right?”
You glance up at him, and it annoys you how amused he is. You got the impression that Merle thrived on chaos and was just trying to get under your skin. “You know, if my brother hadn’t gone back looking for you in Atlanta, I would never have found him again. I guess I’m lucky T-dog dropped the keys.”
“You really are something else.” Merle snorts out a laugh. “I noticed you’re the only one who didn’t protest about me staying. I guess that means all is forgiven.”
“No, I still think you’re an asshole, but Daryl wouldn’t leave you behind.” You go back to looking through the scope for any movements, “but for this to work, we all need to be singing from the same hymn sheet.”
“I’m on whatever side my baby brother is, and fortunately for you, it’s Rick’s side. You didn’t seem surprised when we swooped in and saved your brother's ass from walkers.”
“I knew Daryl would come back because he’s one of us.”
“Yeah, I see that.”
A few beats of silence pass before you speak again. Merle had already gotten into a few altercations with Glenn. “You do anything that hurts.“
“Yeah, yeah,” he says sarcastically. “If I hurt your brother, son, or precious little friends, you’ll point that rifle right at me.”
“You do anything to hurt Daryl, and I’ll pull the trigger.”
“Well, ain’t I glad to know my brother has a guard dog?”
“Shh!” Seeing a vehicle approaching, you point your gun in its direction, ready to fire if it’s an enemy, but thankfully, it’s your people returning. “They’re back.”
—
Something was going on between Rick, Daryl, and Hershel; they were keeping a secret from the rest of you. Your issue wasn’t with being kept out of the loop per se, but you didn’t like the atmosphere it was causing. Both Daryl and Rick were avoiding you, and Hershel constantly looks like he’s about to start crying.
Rick told you the governor was gearing up for war, but you knew he was holding back.
“You want to go for a nap?” You kiss Jace’s cheek multiple times before placing him in the travel cot. Michonne, Carl, and Rick got on their last run. “Sleep tight, baby.”
Having a cot meant you got to sleep better during the night; instead of worrying, he’d somehow crawl out of the cell. They had also brought back a few toys and clothes for him and Judith to share. Knowing he had something other kids had before the world went to shit made you feel better, more hopeful that one day he would have a better chance.
You go to the cellblock where all the supplies are kept and start separating ammunition into different piles. Glenn has come up with the idea of hiding a few boxes of bullets outside, so if anyone got pinned down, they wouldn’t run low. You lift your head and smile when Daryl walks into the room and says, “Hey.”
“Hi.”
It gnaws on you that Daryl avoids making eye contact with him. “Did you do it?”
He looks almost alarmed by the question, “W-what?”
“Michonne’s idea? Putting down barbed wire will slow down any vehicle. I’ve got a few ideas I want to pick her brain about later.”
Daryl gulps it down nervously.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah… no.” He finally lifts his head to look up at you, and he seems to be torn. “I… fuck, I’m not supposed to talk about it.”
“Is this about the governor?"
Sighing, he sits down beside you and holds his head with his hand. “The governor offered to make a deal with Rick; we hand over Michonne, and he’ll leave us alone.”
“But my brother wouldn’t do that,” you say, looking over Daryl’s shoulder at the doorway at the same time Rick walks in. “Tell him you wouldn’t do that.”
“Lily.”
Your stomach drops upon seeing the look on your brother's face; he had actually considered it. “Tell him, Rick, tell me you wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t hand a woman over to that man!”
“Keep your voice down.”
“There is no difference between Merle snatching me and Glenn off the street and handing us over to the governor than there is you doing it. Is this what the three of you have been whispering about? Trying to figure out the best way to do it without the rest of us noticing? That man terrorized me and Glenn.”
You glare at your brother as he comes and sits down on the opposite side of you. “I’m not going to do it... I did consider it. But we can't, and I can’t. It’s not who we are.”
You shake your head in disgust. Rick knew exactly what the governor had done to you, and whatever he had planned for Michonne would be a thousand times worse. Tears of anger begin to form.
“Don’t, don’t do that,” Rick sighs. “I’m going to tell Michonne the truth. About the deal, about... how I thought about it.”
“How could you even think about it?” The difference between people like us and people like them is that we protect our own.”
“That’s exactly what I was trying to do. If I had to choose between saving a person I barely know and my family, I’d always choose my family.”
“Siblings, huh? I can’t live with them; I can’t live without them. But at the end of the day, you’d do anything for them.”
Daryl shakes his head when his brother sits at the table with a smug look on his face. “Shut up, Merle,” you say. “I’m going to check on Judith.”
—
Looking around the prison yard, panic starts to set in. You notice your brother and run to him. “Rick, Rick!”
Seeing you panicked, he runs over and meets you halfway. “What’s going on?”
“Somethings wrong; I can’t find Michonne or Daryl.”
“I know,” he says, looking down at the ground. “Merle went through with it; he took Michonne, and Daryl’s gone after him to bring her back.”
“He’s gone out there alone.”
He nods.
You rub at your face and say, “Damn it. If the governor finds them, he will kill all three of them.”
“Daryl is a survivor. He and Michonne will be coming back through those gates in no time.”
Tears start to build up. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely, both of them have better chances of surviving out there than either of us.” Rick was right; they would be fine. “I just want to say, before... I wasn’t thinking clearly. I would never have turned her over. I was just grasping at any chance I could to try and save the lives of my people, but you’re right, Michonne is one of us now.”
“I shouldn’t be so quick to judge when it’s not me in the position to make that choice. Hell, I’ve done a lot of questionable things.”
Rick hugs you tightly, and you squeal a little when you feel the pressure against the flesh that had been grazed by the bullet. “From now on, there is only one secret we keep: that night on the farm, and that’s it.”
“Agreed.”
When you start to walk back towards the prison, a hint of a smirk appears on Rick’s face. He puts his arm around your shoulder and says, “I need to ask you something, and I need a completely honest answer.”
“Okay?”
“For a while there, I was hearing things and seeing things that weren’t there. So I need you to tell me, did I really see you kissing Daryl with a dead possum at your feet, or did I imagine that?”
“Let’s go find the others.”
—
Your brother stands in front of the remaining members of your group in the courtyard while you sit around a picnic table. He looks stressed, scared of how the others will react. Admittedly, you were horrified when Daryl told you, but you don’t believe him; Rick or Hershel would have actually gone through with it.
“When I met with the governor, he offered me a deal. He said he would leave us alone if I gave him Michonne.” Rick’s jaw wobbles slightly as he talks; he was struggling to hold it together. “And I was going to do that... to keep us safe. I changed my mind. But now Merle took Michonne to fulfill the deal, and Daryl went to stop him, but I don’t know if it’s too late. I was wrong not to tell you. And I’m sorry. What I said last year—that first night after the farm—it can’t be like that. It can’t. What we do, what we’re willing to do, who we are—it’s not my call. It can’t be. I couldn’t sacrifice one of us for the greater good because we are the greater good. We’re the reason we’re still here—not me, all of us. How we live, how we die—it ain’t up to me. I ain’t your governor. We chose to go. We chose to stay. We stick together.”
Nobody knows what to say.
“We vote. We can stay or fight, or we pack up stuff and leave.”
“I’m proud of you, Rick.”
#the walking dead#daryl dixon x female oc#daryl dixon x original character#daryl dixon/you#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x oc#tomorrow’s promise#tomorrow’s promise 3.09#daryl dixon fanfic#twd fanfiction#the walking dead fanfic#daryl dixon fic#Daryl Dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixion x reader
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by Ryan Zickgraf
I witnessed All One Thingism in the flesh in Atlanta while reporting on the “Stop Cop City” saga. What began as a very specific protest against the construction of an expensive new public safety facility in a Georgia forest by environmentalists, police, and prison abolitionists got subsumed into “Free Palestine.” After October 7, anarchists marching in the streets of Atlanta increasingly donned keffiyehs, waved Palestinian flags, and held signs that said: “From Atlanta to Palestine” (which I believe is a fairly big 6,400-mile line).
There’s no better embodiment of this trend than James “Fergie” Chambers, the wealthy tattooed Left-wing heir in Atlanta. Last summer, Chambers helped bankroll the Stop Cop City movement with millions from his Cox family fortune and attended protests in person. Then, in December, he announced he was converting to Islam. He’s currently living in Tunisia and directing his big bucks into anti-Zionism causes.
And lest you think it’s just blue-haired college baristas with these views, consider the author with the worst book title of all time who recently posted among the most despicable Tweets of all time. That would be courtesy of Malcolm Harris, the author of S--- Is F---ed Up and Bulls--- and veritable Napoleon Dynamite of communist writers.
Earlier this month on X, Harris responded to CNN’s Jake Tapper’s report that the Pennsylvania synagogue he had bar mitzphaed at had been vandalised with a swastika. Harris didn’t condemn the anti-Semitic graffiti but indirectly praised it. The meaning of the Nazi symbol had been reversed from bad to good, Harris said, “from a Nazi threat to a condemnation of genocide.”
America is evil, Hamas is good, and swastikas are now woke. This is your brain on All One Thingism.
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The tree cutting has started
How to help:
Support the work of the Forest Justice Defense Fund a broad coalition dedicated to saving the Atlanta Forest by donating here
The Atlanta Solidarity Fund bails out activists who are arrested for participating in social justice movements, and helps them get access to lawyers. Donate here
You can donate to the lawsuit challenging the Dekalb County movie studio land swap here
Call Brasfield & Gorrie (678.581.6400), the Atlanta Police Foundation (770.354.3392), and the City of Atlanta (404.330.6100) and ask them to cancel the project and to remain peaceful with tree-sitters and other on-the-ground protesters
You can organize protests, send phone calls or emails, or help with direct actions of different kinds to encourage contractors of the various projects to stop the destruction. You can find some of the contractors here: stopreevesyoung.com
You can form an Action Group in your community, neighborhood, town, city, college, or scene. Together, you can host information nights, movie screenings, potluck dinners, and protests at the offices of contractors, at the homes of the board members, on campus, or elsewhere. You can post and pass out fliers at public places and shows, knock on doors to talk to neighbors and sign them up for text alerts, fundraisers, or actions, or you can innovate new activities altogether.
If you want to protest like the French NOW is the time to show that you will support and protect people on the Frontline!!
These protesters are protecting ALL of us after all! Cop city will be a training ground for police across the USA.
Let's show them our gratitude and give them that spark of morale that solidarity and support brings.
#cop city#defend weelaunee#Atlanta forest#atlanta#acab#police brutality#leftist#anarchist#communist#climate change#global warming#mutual aid#direct action#lgbt#capitalism#biden#indigenous#native#forest defenders#forest defense#ecopunk#ecosystems#eco friendly#eco warriors#bail fund#solidarity#legal fund#stop cop city#liberal#blm
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Also just as a PS, when I made my post about the Kendrick/Drake beef last week, like five or six people jumped on it to accuse Kendrick Lamar of being antisemitic for calling Drake a colonizer - because Drake is half-Jewish, he's apparently been very clear about his Jewish roots and he's the most prominent Jewish rapper in the game, and Kendrick calling him a colonizer is him denying Jewish people from yet another avenue of culture that they exist in and which they deserve to have a place in via the use of antisemitic dogwhistling.
And I couldn't bring myself to poke at the wound and stretch it into an argument, because frankly I just wanted to revel in the way that Drake himself was getting battered during the beef due to his years of rampant misogyny and general dickishness. I've said it before and I'll say it again; I don't like Drake, and I haven't liked Drake for the past ten years for his lacking musical output and general shittiness as a person. His culture and roots have nothing to do with that - and honest to god, I had no idea he had Jewish heritage until these charges came up. My investment in hating Drake is that he's just generally a massive dickhead who represents himself very poorly, as as long as I've seen him in the public eye, that's exactly how he's carried himself as a person.
But what I will say to that specific charge of antisemitism against Kendrick is that the bars about Drake being a colonizer are a direct reference to insults Drake made about the music that Kendrick makes, and him saying that Kendrick's activism is performative (Always rappin' like you 'bout to get the slaves freed / You just actin' like an activist, it's make-believe / Don't even go back to your hood and plant no money trees). Everything Kendrick says is a direct refutation of this argument brought forward by Drake.
Side-stepping the fact that the lattermost accusation has been debunked, Kendrick responded in Not Like Us by intentionally going into a brief discussion about Atlanta's role in the slave trade - playing into Drake's criticism that he raps about slavery and makes music with the intention of making a socially conscious point - and making a point of saying that a handful of people profited off of the townspeople to make their money selling human beings - all to jump into a criticism of Drake's presence in the Atlanta rap game, flying in from Toronto and acting as a figurehead of the scene who got the co-sign from half a dozen other rappers - the "townspeople" in this analogy - to legitimise himself and appear authentic enough to run the scene and benefit from his image.
Kendrick calls Drake a colonizer in the sense that he is an outsider to the Atlanta scene who - loosely paraphrased from the actual song - got the co-sign from Future when he wasn't cutting it by himself, who got the lingo from Lil Baby, who generally got by from being hyped up by - and legitimised from - the aggrandization from other rappers like 21 Savage, Quavo, Young Thug and 2 Chainz who claimed him as an Atlanta native.
Drake being a colonizer in the context of the song is steeped in so many relevant factors to the songs preceding Not Like Us, to factors in Drake's career and his place in the rap game, that ANYBODY LISTENING TO THE SONGS and paying attention to the words could piece together the point of Kendrick's criticism of Drake as a colonizer.
And people decided that it must have been an antisemitic slur at the height of people's criticism of Israel's occupation of Palestine, because he's calling a man with Jewish heritage a colonizer. Throwing out all that context to go "actually Kendrick Lamar is trying to dogwhistle to bigots and other antisemites to reject Drake on the basis of his Jewish heritage".
When the charges against Drake are:
Being a sexual predator
Enabling child abusers and sexual predators in his immediate sphere of influence
Being a misogynist
Engaging in the trafficking and exploitation of women
Being a culture vulture who moved to a new place, picked up the culture and lingo and whose character in the rap game is performative and inauthentic while he pushes out other rappers coming up in the same scene by throwing his weight around
But that last point became boiled down to "calling a Jewish man 'colonizer' is an intentional antisemitic dogwhistle by Kendrick to discredit a Jewish man in the rap scene based on his heritage", instead of the CLEARLY DOCUMENTED REASONS KENDRICK WAS COMPARING DRAKE'S BEHAVIOR TO COLONIZATION. Instead of seeing the jab as a CLEAR RESPONSE to Drake criticizing Kendrick's music and activism as Kendrick "rapping like he's about to free the slaves", and explicitly criticizing Drake's personal actions over the course of his entire career in the music industry.
And I think of that whenever I see a post that's asking people to consider a whole world outside of the current pop scene, addressing people who are commenting on the Kendrick/Drake beef as people who talk non-stop about Taylor Swift being a Secret Queer Icon and about how they think Harry Styles is actually wearing a toupee. Trying to get through to people who don't actually care or know anything about what's happening or what's being said about the situation, except to go "slay 💅💅💅💅💅 #whitegirlwednesdays" or whatever the fuck. Because if I ran into people who didn't give a donkey's dick about the context behind Kendrick criticizing Drake's actions in the rap game and choosing to characterise Kendrick as a bigot and antisemite for his criticisms, I can't fucking IMAGINE how badly it's going in other corners of the internet.
#Kendrick Lamar#drake#antisemitism tw#this is a post that I will actually tag because I have something relevant to say about the specific beef#rather than solely speculating on the way that people have just sort of flooded into the discourse with shallow ice-cold takes
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Knowing Enough for Her
Daryl Dixon [PLATONIC] • She/Her Pronouns • Dixon’s Little Sister!Reader / Mute!Reader • Hints of Caryl • If you asked Merle, he thinks you’re mute because of the shit you witness your dad do to your brothers. Daryl thinks you’ve always been that way, which is correct. Honestly, you didn’t mind it. Even in the end of the world…but some moments made you wish you could just scream off the top of your lungs your frustrations • ANGST/SFW • TW: Injuries / Canon Violence / Anxiety Attacks / Abuse
Requested by: Anon
NEXT
“The cop is gettin’ frustrated with y’all” Merle makes the comment quick to draw his siblings’ attentions toward Shane who was arguing with Dale about letting them into their group.
“You sure it ain’t your bitchass?” Daryl snaps at Merle who gave him an eye roll as a response. He felt Y/N tug on his shirt for his attention as she started to sign toward him.
Shane scoffs pinching the bridge of his nose. “If she’s deaf, she can cause problems. Kill herself maybe”
“Shane I wouldn’t—-“
“What? Bring a bunch of rednecks and a disable into our group?” Shane turned toward the group once again but up close was Y/N as she suddenly socks the cop in the face knocking him on the ground.
The cop stumbles to the ground making the man he was talking to step back. Dale quickly looks at Y/N seeing the rage radiate off of her person as he held his hands up in surrender.
“Okay. Not deaf. I’m just gonna assume and say mute?” He tilts his head with a questioning look waiting for Y/N to inevitably nod as her tense composure relaxed. “Alright. Now that that’s clarified, we’d love to have yea. Uhm. Just…leave him down there” he states directing them toward their camp as Merle approaches the cop who was stunned on the ground while his siblings went head.
“I wouldn’t fuck with my sis, pig” Merle laughs picking up the pace to catch up with them.
So you’re gonna go on this dangerous run into the town? Could it be a ploy to get rid of you? Y/N frowns signing to Merle as he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him to that last part.
“They wouldn’t survive if they tried to kill me”
“Can’t hold it against them” Daryl scoffs. “Watch your back, man. We may hate you too but—“ Y/N smacked Daryl in the chest. “Your family. We want yea back in one piece”
I can go with him Y/N states to Daryl as he shakes his head. He’ll be safer with another one of us
I don’t give a flying fuck. Merle is a big boy he’ll be fine Daryl frowns signing to his sister who grew frustrated instantly. “You’re staying here”
“Y’all know I know sign right?”
Everyone is listening Y/N points with her eyes to the few that would watch them talk with sign language and when they got noticed, they’d turn away. This shit isn’t foreign.
Don’t get feisty. I will be fine, kid Merle scoffs, still awful with his signing but it was enough for Y/N to understand. “Yer gonna go on the hunt with Daryl. I’m going on the Atlanta run. Nothing can go wrong”
Then of course, Merle didn’t come back. But another cop did.
Y/N watches her brother go off on the poor guy after he had just reunited with his wife and son. She watches as Shane turns toward her looking for her to stop Daryl’s outburst toward his best friend Rick. But if she could speak, she’d expose what she sees in the trees.
“Stop your brother!”
The youngest Dixon met him with silence but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a plan.
Shane groans as the situation started to escalate and before either cops could get a hand on Daryl. Y/N suddenly came forward and pinched a nerve to make her brother instantly drop to avoid him landing a shot with his knife.
“Thank you” Rick thanks Y/N as she nods before going to Dale writing in the air knowing that would tell him to get her something to write with.
It took some time to get Daryl to calm down as he was now mad at his sister for what she did. Y/N wrote on the pad of paper with Rick and Shane on either side of her.
Is Merle dead?
“No, just chained to a roof”
Is it easy to get there?
“Also no, Atlanta is infested with the dead that we can’t risk going back in there”
“But I can find us a way” Glenn chimes in getting two concerning looks and Y/N’s curious one. “We have to plan this out though.”
“If that’s the case we can also grab the weapons I left behind” Rick adds only for Lori to protest the possibility of actually losing her husband.
Daryl finally calmed down enough to join the planning process as Y/N taps him giving him a concerning look.
If they won’t help us, we’ll do this ourselves Y/N signs but Daryl’s facial expression gave away to the rest of what she told him.
“What’d she say?”
“I’ll agree with her. We’ll take care of it ourselves if yea don’t—-“
“Nah. We ain’t risking lives. If there’s a way? We’ll do it.” Rick insisted and left to talk to Lori about such.
Once it came time to preparing to leave, Y/N got in the hull of the truck with Daryl as she had her axe strapped to her back watching Rick and Shane talk.
You think he’ll tell his friend?
“Nah. Hell I wouldn’t if I did” Daryl scoffs only for his sister to smack him. Why do you care?
We act on emotions. No one really uses their brain anymore. Y/N frowns. Merle must’ve asked for a death wish. Dumb bitch acts more than thinks
He better be okay Daryl frowns signing that last bit as Y/N takes his hand into hers.
But not finding Merle was just the start. Then the outbreak in the camp. And it continued going down hill…
After helping her drunk brother to their room, Y/N went back to the common room of the CDC hearing Shane’s voice and the heat in such toward who she can only assume to be Lori. Even if the girl had no booze in her system, she had to help a friend out.
Before Shane could even lay a hand on Lori is when the door suddenly flew open and Y/N stumbles forward to the couch. She gave out short laughs or what sounds like puffs of air that could mimic such.
“She had a bit too much” Shane rolls his eyes as Lori shoved him away from her before helping Y/N by wrapping her arm around her shoulders. “We were talking”
“I’m taking care of her” Lori’s glares shot like daggers through his chest as she directs Y/N out of the room.
Once the two were alone in the hallway for a short moment, Y/N straightens herself out which confused Lori but she watches her face grow in concern resting a hand on her arm.
“Am I okay?” Lori asks watching her nod as she couldn’t be happier that she had someone who cared for her, even without knowing everything in its entirety. “I’m good. Thanks to you”
Y/N smiles warmly. Good she signs seeing the confusion grow but given what Lori just said.
“Good?” Lori smiles as she nods happily before making sure she got back to her room with her family.
When the CDC was a blow, literally, and the group was a back on the road. Y/N was in the car with Lori, Carl, Carol, and Sophia as she started to teach the kids a few signs with the same pad and pen given to her from Dale. The four started to get the hang of it, the moms more than the kids.
Especially when Y/N signed to Carol that she was going to go look for her daughter. Even if she ended up finding her brother injured along the way. To add more to his state, the two standing close to one another looking like undead blobs in a crosshair to an idiot who’s never shot a hunting rifle before.
“Y/N, we’ve got him” Rick reassures holding him up gesturing for Shane to help hold him up on the other side in place of Y/N.
Clearly the guys helping never “heard” a mute person before but still felt awful listening to Y/N’s crying as it sounded more painful than a regular cry.
“He’ll be okay” Glenn reassures hugging the girl as she watches Dale and Andrea run over to the group which lead to him getting pushed and Y/N rushing Andrea.
“Jesus Christ!” Dale freaks out when Y/N tackled Andrea down to the dirt, pinning her down and not taking any hits on the woman. “Y/N she didn’t mean to”
Y/N just stared at Andrea ignoring Dale and given the ones not carrying Daryl weren’t breaking the two up. They knew she was trying to teach Andrea something but it was never going to get through to her.
A few hours went by and Carol came into the room Daryl was resting in with dinner for him and to thank him for looking for her daughter. But to add…
“Your sister went back out there. Followed your footsteps…more carefully…to figure out more. But given you found something of Sophia’s. You both are doing so much for me that I don’t want you to risk yourself”
“No one should feel that pain of losing somebody…”
“Then don’t let Y/N feel such. I like her” Carol smiles kissing the archer’s temple before leaving the room.
Everything seems to escalate in the apocalypse. Sophia had met her fate too soon, Carol was heartbroken and Daryl was frustrated. Y/N knew not to get in the middle of Daryl’s outburst but he knew that she’d give him a new one to hurt a grieving mother’s feelings even further.
But his frustration turned when Hershel went missing, because so did Y/N.
The Dixon brothers can be idiots for acting on their emotions before even thinking. But their sister knows to think ahead.
Ahead being the attack on the bar that held Rick, Hershel, and Glenn. When Glenn went ahead and Rick thought he was shot, he quickly ran to his friend finding Y/N had pulled him out of the way just in time.
“How did we not see hear you coming?” Rick laughs relieved as she shrugs with a smile before pointing in the direction she was going to help give them a window of escape.
That act lead to Rick and Glenn finally gaining an interest in learning to sign. But that had to wait for their return with a hostage that didn’t really give anything useful except reveal that Shane was more psycho then they thought. And the farm was just as temporary as the CDC.
House hopping gave them time to learn more signing and for Y/N to grow close with everyone left. So the pain she endured when Lori died broke Daryl watching her sob. He didn’t hesitate to help in that split second as he and Maggie left to get formula and other necessities that’ll benefit the baby that was later named Judith.
“You stick close”
You be safe
Daryl nods continuing to follow the group into Woodbury with Y/N covering their backs. Saving Glenn and Maggie lead to be difficult especially when the one that hurt Glenn was their own blood.
Y/N had managed to get out of getting caught up in the trouble her brothers were now facing. But she helped Maggie and Rick get them out of there, even if the two were only trying to get Daryl out of there.
We can’t have him come back with us
He risked himself to help Daryl. Merle isn’t the same man you met back at Atlanta Y/N sighs at Rick who wasn’t going to have someone who worked for the enemy in their space.
Y/N. Think about the baby. We can’t have the Governor knocking on our door Rick frowns signing back as he really didn’t want to argue with Y/N about this.
He also knows what we are signing. Y/N crosses her arms as Rick turns to Merle who was only growing more annoyed. Ain’t good at it. But still. Regardless. He’s family
“HE CAN GET US KILLED” Rick suddenly yells at Y/N shocking all of them and without a second she shouted back. Sounding strangulated but it made it clear that he made a mistake yelling at her.
“Holy shit” Merle scoffs surprised that even came out of Y/N and in regards for him in that matter. “Look. I can help y’all take down Woodbury if shit ever hit the fan. Hell I can even be chained outside like a dog if it means—-“
“We don’t want you there” Glenn frowns still frustrated with what Merle did. Maggie held his arm keeping close and still worried about his injuries.
“Then…we’ll leave” Daryl states not letting any protests from the others who don’t want the good Dixons to leave.
Yet that didn’t last long and Merle could’ve seen it coming a mile away…but part of him was relieved they didn’t stick with him and he wasn’t going to let his family get hurt.
Even though the world keeps taking and Daryl came back to the prison with dried tears and horrible news to Y/N who could already know by the look in his eyes. She turned to Rick with tears in her eyes as she couldn’t even think of the words to say before looking at her feet then signing.
He has to pay.
And he did. The prison then got an infusion of the Woodbury folk and they started to make the place more of a home.
“I’m gonna go huntin’, wanna come or busy?” Daryl knew she was busy given his sister was currently holding baby Judith and listening to her soft coos that she happily expressed.
Don’t forget to check the snares Y/N signs with her focus still on the little baby but before he left her cell she tapped the metal bars to get his attention. Ask Carol to join you she signs with a smirk that was met with a scoff from her older brother.
“Your sister is in love with that baby”
“She’s always wanted to be a mom” Daryl lead the way to track down the rabbit he spotted tracks for with Carol happily joining him.
“But she doesn’t cuz she’s mute? That stops someone?”
“Stops her but Judith fills that void and I ain’t taking that away from her” Daryl knelt down by a snare handing Carol his crossbow for a second to untie the rabbit that was caught. “Make that stew of yours?”
“Let’s find another and then I’ll make your favorite” Carol smiles watching the heat meet the tip of his ears. “I’ll make it for you regardless of how many you get me”
“Hey uh” Daryl straightens up putting the rabbit in the bag. “Maybe we can do the late watch together instead of switchin’ off?”
Carol couldn’t help the excitement to rise in her chest as she nods with that signature smile of hers.
“Then hurry up Pookie.”
The good days were limited, when Carol disappeared and the illness took out a good handful of people with it’s hell and the undead’s involvement. Daryl knew Y/N took care of herself and was taking care of Judith, Carl, and Beth when the illness came through. Protecting them. Even if she didn’t get sick, she was the first person he had to check on once the medicine got into their people.
Carol will come back Y/N reassures with a smile as Daryl brought his arm around her shoulders bringing her in.
“Can I be honest?” Daryl frowns as she nods. “I don’t have a good feeling…”
There seems to be a pattern. The good then bad then good again. But next was bad and the Governor’s comeback was that.
As Daryl got Beth out of the prison hoping Y/N made it out safe, his anxiety was relieved when she ran into the two right before Beth was taken. Y/N felt awful as if everything happening to them was her fault…guess she shares that with Daryl. The silence between the two grew worse when they came in contact with the Claimers. Y/N didn’t want to sign in case any of them knew but by the looks of them, she really could’ve whenever she had a suspicion. But she thought Shane was insensitive toward her…this group was worse
Daryl woke one night with the Claimers to hear Y/N struggling. He was about to get up and knock the lights out of the guy when he was stopped. No leader in sight meant, they were going against his agreement of not laying a hand on her if he did whatever was asked.
“Stop! You’re hurting her”
“Just trying to get words outta her man” One of them laughs crushing her hand which only resulted in more screaming. “Wow she’s real good with no begging to stop”
“Yknow” Len, the one giving Daryl the most trouble, approaches and took her other hand into his. “We gotta go hard” then suddenly a loud crack was audible as he broke not one, but two of her fingers. Making Daryl break loose from one’s grasp and shoving the other into the guy to avoid being grabbed again as he grabbed Len.
Len was instantly tossed to the ground right as Daryl socked the other Claimer in the face finally letting go of Y/N as she knelt to the ground feeling her hands shake trying to get a look through the blur that her tears caused. But all she saw was bent out of place blobs and felt all the unbearable pain that made her scream for the rest of the night.
Which lead to Len’s death the next morning, done by Joe without a second thought. Daryl, bloody and bruised, took the tape he had to buddy tape her broken fingers after snapping them into place as it only brought more pain. He got a good look of the other hand as they were more of the cutting and brushing type with the other. Daryl watched as her hands shake but he couldn’t hold them to comfort her…that would only cause more pain. He took his rag out wrapping the other hand the best he could even if her tears continued to fall.
“They’ll pay” Daryl whispers only for Y/N to bonk her head against his causing a wince from him and his eyes to lock onto hers. “We gotta find the others quick”
Quick came but lead to another fight and Rick killing the one threatening him and the one trying to have his way with Carl. While Michonne takes out her handler and Y/N held her axe with the one hand with no broken fingers, taking out the one that dared lay a finger on her brother then the siblings took out the last two.
As morning came and Rick was talking about going to this Terminus to see if it’s actually safe or not what it is. He was going to ask Y/N if she’s seen any of their own before meeting with Daryl when he noticed what the Claimers had done.
“Fuckers…”
“You’re just gonna have to do all the talking” Daryl states, checking how bad the bruising was on her arms after taking a few hits during their fight on the road. “It’s a safe bet headin’ to this sanctuary”
“Maybe we’ll find the others”
Hopefully Y/N thought blinking away more tears as she sat on the ground for a bit given they’ve all been through hell. A few more minutes didn’t hurt anyone.
The group got to following the tracks to this Terminus and Daryl couldn’t help but check in on his sister even if it was met with tired and pained expressions. He knew what she meant by them.
When they reached Terminus, Daryl instructed Y/N to keep an eye out in case anything goes south. He doesn’t want to risk her life in there. But she was going to anyway.
Y/N heard the gun shots and right as she was about to head inside, the relief that washed over her when Carol met up with her. She couldn’t be happier to devise something to help get their family out of there.
“Who the fuck are—-“ the gunshot cut the guy off as did Rick stabbing the drift wood in the neck of the other one.
Rick sighs thankful seeing Y/N helping them get out of there as she helped let loose the others with her knife. Daryl instantly brought her face into his hands making sure they didn’t lay a hand on her but she smiled in that second to reassure him.
Finally their group got outside of that hell, with new members as well. Daryl didn’t hesitate to hug Carol when they spotted the other in the woods. Y/N watches the two smiling warmly.
Soon the group was pieced together…with a few missing pieces along the way…the good. Then the bad…this should be the good part now?
“Y/N”
Y/N looks up at her brother confused seeing his usual worried expression burden him.
“Please. Please give me somethin’ that’ll confirm this will be alright”
The youngest Dixon knew the words wouldn’t come out in any way to communicate to him, so all she did was take his hand squeezing it with the strength she had left.
Then the gates opened to Alexandria…
The good.
#cultofdixon#the walking dead#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#PLATONIC#caryl#hints of it at least#daryl dixon fanfiction
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Amazon MGM Studios has rounded out the cast of Oh. What. Fun., its all-star holiday comedy being directed by Michael Showalter, who is coming off the record-breaking success of the streamer’s romantic drama The Idea of You.
Jason Schwartzman, Eva Longoria, Joan Chen, Devery Jacobs, Havana Rose Liu and Maude Apatow have been added to the call sheet while Danielle Brooks has signed on for a cameo in the feature, which is currently shooting in Atlanta.
Michelle Pfeiffer is leading the ensemble that already include Felicity Jones, Chloë Grace Moretz, Denis Leary and The Holdovers breakout Dominic Sessa.
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Blind Date
Summary: You’re an up-and-coming influencer that is trying to grow your small, but loyal fanbase. You decide to do a blind date game on a popular YouTube channel only to find out that your date is Jack Harlow.
Warnings: Fem!reader, Influencer!reader, kissing, fluff, suggestive towards the end
A/N: This has been in my drafts for MONTHS but I am releasing it now kinda as a farewell since I’m really out of it. I don’t feel as into writing and I need a proper break. But I didn’t want to just disappear again so, here’s a parting gift. Till next time ❤️
You slowly removed the satin blindfold from around your eyes. The fabric was long and slippery making it difficult to handle. You found yourself entangling your fingers in the red ribbon the faster you tried to remove it. Succeeding at last, you wrapped it around your wrist and opened your eyes to look at your mystery date. Your mouth fell open, the edges curving into a smile.
“Jack?!” You laughed softly.
“Y/n?” Jack asked, he was still removing his black satin blindfold, but he recognized your voice instantly.
There was some shuffling and murmurs from the production crew coming from the far right of where you two were sitting. The producer who was off-camera and cinematically shrouded in darkness cleared their throat before asking,
“Wait...you two know each other?”
Jack chuckled, placing the ribbon in his lap and turned toward the producer. “Yeah, one of her friends is dating mine. We actually run in the same circle when she’s in Atlanta or I’m in LA.”
“Uh, well...” The producer stammered. “The whole concept of this is supposed to be influencers going on blind dates with celebrities. I didn’t know you both actually knew each other. Who set this up?”
The last question was more of a whisper and directed at their production assistant. Nervousness began to bubble in your stomach as you could see the dark figures of the staff members buzzing around.
“Is this going to be a problem?” You asked, trying not to look disappointed. You had seen versions of this show before and the questions were juicy. You couldn’t believe Jack would sign up for something like this. You had no reputation to uphold, but he was very particular about interviews and statements. This felt like a once in a lifetime opportunity to see Jack thinking of his feet in person. You didn’t want to lose it.
The producer froze for a moment. There was some whispering from the producer’s assistant which made your cheeks warm. You heard the producer softly respond with a high-pitched, “Oh.” Jack glanced your way at the sound and gave you the quickest, tiniest wink. You were pretty sure only you could have seen it. It made you stare at him for a moment and really take him in.
Jack was going for a different kind of look today. He was wearing a black leather jacket, a tight white t-shirt that seemed to be holding on for dear life as it clung to his chest and dark jeans that fit him loose at the waist. His curls were styled to give him that boy next door look, but no one could mistake that icy blue gaze and devilish smirk for anything, but the player Jack Harlow was.
Your attention was grasped by the producer announcing that you would continue with the interview. You smiled, already knowing what the assistant had whispered to the producer without having to ask. The producer was probably one of the few people who didn’t know that you and Jack Harlow were a hot topic these days.
A couple of weeks earlier, a picture was snapped of you waiting for Jack after one of his concerts during a festival. The image that went viral was of you wearing one of Jack’s merch t-shirts that was a little too small and Jack hugging you tightly with his hands pressing into your lower back.
The background of the picture was that you had a wardrobe malfunction. The strappy purple two piece you were wearing from a sponsor turned out to be as sturdy as a house of made straw. Running the risk of flashing everyone, you messaged a group chat with all your friends to send an SOS. To your surprise, it was Jack’s brother, Clay, who had saved the day with a merch shirt.
It was a little small, but it was much better than the ripped outfit you had been holding to your chest. To thank Clay, you decided to help him out by selling merch and doing a few other odd tasks. One of those tasks was taking a case of water to Jack’s stage for Jack and the Homies to drink after their set. The day was hot and long which meant all the boys were extremely thirsty. When you handed Jack a frosty ice cold bottle of water, he hugged you tightly without hesitation.
Of course, that’s when a fan took a picture and the image started a bunch of rumors and shipping wars. Even if the producer didn’t know this was a setup, you were 100% sure that was the reason you were currently sitting across from Jack.
You just weren’t sure who orchestrated it. And, more importantly, how they convinced Jack “I Like to Keep My Life Private” Harlow to do this. However, you wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Shall we get started then?” Jack asked, shifting in his seat so, he could face you.
“Do you want to go first?” You asked.
“No please, ladies first.” Jack insisted, smirking at you. “I’m a gentleman, after all.”
You shook your head with a slight eye roll. You picked up the first card from the deck. You scanned it quickly, your eyebrows raising as you let out a laugh. You looked toward the script writers and producers that were sitting in a line. Only their silhouettes visible from where you sat.
“Oh damn, we’re coming in hot.” You remarked, mostly hamming it up for the camera. If you wanted to grow your fanbase, you needed to be engaging.
You glanced at Jack who’s lips were twitching into a smile. You saw his right leg bouncing up and down in anticipation. You glanced back down at the card and read it out loud. “Truth: When was your last date and how did it go?”
Jack closed his eyes for a second too long for it to be considered a blink. You knew he was debating whether or not he should reveal something about himself so, you quickly added, “Tell the truth.” You turned the card around and pointed at the word Truth to emphasize your point.
“Well, technically right now I am on a date.” A smirk spread on Jack’s lips as he saw the annoyance in your eyes. “So, five seconds ago.”
“No, no no.” You shook your finger at him. “This date doesn’t count.”
“It’s a real date though.” Jack said, adjusting his jacket by pulling it closer to him. “I’m actually trying to impress right now.”
“Okay fine...” You chose your words carefully. “When was your last date with someone other than me and how did it go?”
Jack bit his lower lip. You could see in his eyes that he realized you wouldn’t let it go. He had to answer so, he figured he would just tell the truth.
“Six months ago.” Jack sighed. “It uh, didn’t go super well. We had zero things to talk about and she spent half the time on her phone. I’m really into eye contact so, that was a big no for me.”
Jack held your gaze as if highlighting the fact that you were great at meeting his eyes. You smiled a bit, letting your follow up question roll off your tongue with ease, not even thinking of the implications behind it.
“You still smashed though, right?”
“Yeah...” Jack said a little too quickly before following up with, “Hell yeah.”
Your laughs harmonized loudly and obnoxiously. You high fived each other before you placed the card face down next to the pile to create a stack of discarded cards. For a second, you forgot that you were doing a video and there was a room full of people watching you. This was the kind of dumb conversation you and Jack would have while sitting on someone’s couch, chopping it up over a plate of food.
Jack leaned over and grabbed the next card. He nodded a bit, grinning while looking up at you. “I always wondered this.”
“Oh no...” You looked at the camera with wide eyes, remembering your audience this time.
“Truth: How would you rate me on a scale of 1 to 10?”
“What am I rating?” You asked, buying time because you didn’t know what to say.
Jack looked at you like you were an idiot. He leaned in closer as if your misunderstanding was because you were hard of hearing. “Me, dummy. How do you rate me?”
“Like for what? Looks, personality, compatibility...” You chewed on your lip as you tried to think of a number for each of the categories you were listing. Was there even a difference?
“Everything!” Jack shrugged. “The whole package, how do you rate me?”
“That’s hard...” You groaned, shaking your head from side to side.
Jack rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine...how would you rate me as a potential boyfriend, how’s that?”
You blushed a bit, not expecting such a forward question. You hesitated and Jack let out another sigh.
He broke the silence by saying, “Okay, how about this? I’ll rate you as how good of a girlfriend you would be and you rate me. We’ll say it at the same time. Okay? 1...2...3...”
“8.5!” You shouted.
“10.” Jack shouted at the same time.
“10?” You said, the word coming out breathy. “You think I’m a 10? That’s like perfect right?! No one is perfect, Jack.”
“I’m not saying you’re perfect,” Jack smirked. “I’m just saying you could be perfect for me. I mean we vibe together. We have a lot of the same friends. You’re pretty cute.”
“I make eye contact.” You added in a teasing voice.
“Exactly!” Jack smirked. He blinked a couple times. He smacked his lips together and gave you a slow nod. “So, I’m an 8.5 huh?”
You covered your face with your hands. “I feel like a jerk now.”
“Why not a 10? You don’t think I’m cute or something?” Jack asked, tapping the card on the table. He was enjoying being on this side where he got to ask the questions instead of answering them. He also loved teasing you. It was so easy: just pursuing his lips or giving a long stare would make you cover your face in embarrassment. He was having the time of his life now.
You shook your head. “You’re very cute. And tall. And talented. I just don’t think you’re at the stage of your life where you want to settle down, you know? I’m starting in my career so, I need consistency. Not flings.”
Jack let out a low whistle. Your cheeks heatedz a little realizing how serious your answer was. You felt silly and worried that he would read more into it than you intended. You just let it slip off your tongue without thinking. You had been doing that a lot today.
“Damn...you’re probably right.” Jack nodded in agreement. “I mean I can’t argue with that. But, you should give me some time then. Maybe I’ll show you that I can be that guy.”
You nodded and gave him a toothy grin. Jack seemed pleased with the response so he put the card in a discard pile of his own. You picked up the next card and chuckled softly.
“Ooooh, you’re gonna get in trouble.” You teased. “Dare: Let me see the last picture you saved of somebody else.”
Jack’s eyes widened as he let out a dry cough. “Uhm...I think my phone died.”
“Liar!” You yelled, tossing the card at him. “Don’t chicken out, Harlow. Gimme.”
You extended a hand toward him and clenched it a couple times to signal that you wanted it. Jack groaned loudly and dug into his back pocket. He pulled out the phone and unlocked it. He opened the photos app and smiled a bit before handing it to you.
“Okay, it’s a good one.” Jack said, almost sounding relieved.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” You took the phone and couldn’t contain your smile. “Aww, it’s his mommy. Oh she looks stunning.”
“She was going to a wedding with my dad and she dressed up for it. I figured I would use it for her Mother’s Day post this year.”
“That’s really sweet, Jack. I won’t spoil it then.” You clutched the phone to your chest and smiled at the camera. “You’ll have to follow him on Instagram to see it on Mother’s Day. But, now, you have to post it.”
You said the last sentence to Jack as you handed him back his phone. Jack tucked it away quickly into his back pocket making you laugh. You were going to make a joke about the speed of his actions, but he moved on the next card before you could.
“Ah, pay back is so sweet.” Jack grinned. “Dare: Let me see the last picture you saved of yourself. Booty shots and all.”
“It does not say that last part.” You said, reaching over to grab the card. Jack held it to his chest, leaning back so you couldn’t take it from him. You sat back in your seat and then dug in your pocket for your phone. You were moving slowly as you tried to remember the last photo you had taken. Of course, all the risqué photos were coming to mind, but you couldn’t remember when they were captured. You checked your photos app and gasped when you saw your most recent photo.
“Uh, uh. NO.” You said, going to delete it.
“No cheating!” Jack said. He leveraged his long arms to pluck the phone from your fingers and look at the picture. He laughed loudly, his head falling back. “Oh this is precious. It’s a photo of her at her desk with a mountain of snacks everywhere.”
“It’s not precious. I look gross.” You tried to take your phone back, but Jack pivoted so he could keep it away from you while still holding it to his eye level.
“You do not. You look adorable. A little tired though.” There was some concern in his voice that made your heart skip a beat.
“It was after an all-nighter. I didn’t leave the room for anything, but bathroom breaks. We were launching a new project and it was all hands on deck. I don’t have a big team, so I still do 70% of the work load.” You explained.
Jack shook his head. “You should take better care of yourself, Y/n. It’s not good for you, mamas.”
You blushed softly at the tenderness in his tone. He seemed legitimately worried. You smiled, taking your phone back from him. This time less forcefully. Jack handed it back to you with ease. You put your phone away and then reached for the next card. You turned your head toward the staff, mouth hanging open.
“Okay, now y’all are getting wild.” You said. “Can we refuse to do these?”
There was some silence and Jack looked between you and the staff patiently. The producer then said, “Of course, but you have to read it out loud first.”
“I don’t think he’s going to want to do it.” You commented, not able to look at Jack. You stared at the card and then read it out loud, “Dare: Kiss your date.”
Jack’s eyes went wide. It was the first time you got a big reaction out of him all night. His mouth opened and closed several times, trying to read your face. You, on the other hand, revealed nothing on your features and waited for him to respond. A part of you wanted to kiss him, but another part of you worried that he didn’t want to which would result in you getting rejected in front of millions of people.
“I’m down if you’re down.” Jack said, finally. “Just a little peck, right?”
“Yeah...” You swallowed. “I’m down.”
Jack leaned forward over the table just as you stood up. “Oh.” You both said in unison. You walked around to stand next to his chair. Jack looked up at you, a grin appearing instantly on his face.
“I’m not going to stand and kiss you.” Jack gestured to the cameras behind you. “It’s going to looked weird since the cameras were set for us sitting.”
“I’m not going to point my butt at the camera, Jack!” You said, turning back to see where it was angled. “You have to stand up because I’m not bending over.”
Jack shrugged. “You don’t have a choice. The camera is going to cut off our heads and everyone is going to say it’s fake. Go back to your seat and lean over the table like a normal blind date.”
“But, it’s uncomfortable...” You groaned.
Jack rolled his eyes. “What are you gonna do then?”
Before you could think twice, you sat down on his lap. Jack’s hands instinctually wrapped around your waist, staying firm by your stomach. Your feet were dangling and positioned along with your chest toward the camera while your face was turned toward Jack. He was looking down at you through his lashes and you were looking up at him through yours. You closed the space between you two and met his lips in a soft, sensual peck. You let your lips gently press and pull his bottom lip, the tiniest groan leaving Jack in response. He froze, just staring at you, his eyes clouded with lust and wanting more. You laughed nervously, turning at the camera. Your smile was getting wider with embarrassment. You could feel Jack’s gaze still fixated on your side profile and it made goose bumps tickle the back of your neck.
“Well then...” You said, motioned to get off his lap. Jack held you into place, leaning forward to grab the next card. You frowned at him. “I can’t stay here for the rest of the game.”
“Why not?” Jack asked bringing the card closer to his face for him to read. “Truth:...”
“Jack!” You admonished him slapping the arm that crossed in front of your stomach.
“Are you not comfortable right now?” Jack asked. Your silence said more than you ever could. Jack smirked, looking down at you again even though you continued to stare forward into nothingness, feeling bashful. He then continued. “That’s what I thought. As I was saying...Truth:...”
There were only a couple more questions after that. You wrapped up the set quickly and you both gave each other a tight hug. You then individually went around the room to thank the staff. You were both then escorted back to your private dressing rooms to tidy up before the final interview. You thought about what you were going to say when they asked if you would like to see Jack again for a second date. You couldn’t tell the truth, but you also didn’t want to make it seem like you didn’t like Jack. In the end you settled for:
“I had a great time today with Jack. It was a little weird at first because we’re friends. It’s also not a typical first date, by any standards. I’m sure I’ll see him again since we all hangout together. And hey, he did say he was going to become better for me so, who knows?”
You closed off with a wink and then waved to everyone before you went back to your hotel.
You were exhausted when you entered your hotel room. The hotel was gorgeous and way out of your price range. You were very glad that you were able to split the cost. You were surprised to see the lights already on when you walked into the room. You slipped off your shoes, talking to the figure who you could see laying face up on the bed.
“How did you get here before me?” You asked. “I was in and out pretty quickly.”
Jack sat up on his forearms. He had discarded his leather jacket on a nearby chair and now you could see clearly how the t-shirt hugged his biceps. Deliciously, his t-shirt hugged them deliciously.
“First time I ever finished faster than you.” Jack teased.
You walked toward him, reaching under your crop top to unloosen your bra. You pulled one arm out of your sleeve to let the bra strap fall before doing the same with the other. You tossed your bra on the chair with Jack’s jacket before jumping on the bed and straddling him.
“I don’t think that’s true.” You said, grinding your hips against his.
“Wanna bet?” Jack leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss.
The kiss was much more fiery than the one you shared in the studio. It was the way you were used to kissing each other this past month since you moved from friends to a secret couple. You had been officially dating for three months. The festival incident was the first time you both messed up in public, but your agents saw it as an opportunity to slowly get people used to the idea of you two together.
Jack slid his hands up your skirt to massage your ass gently. You tangled your fingers in his hair, giving it a little tug. He rewarded you by deepening the kiss with a moan and more tongue. Between breathy kisses you managed to ask,
“You set that up, didn’t you?” The thought had been lingering in your mind since the moment you took off the blindfold.
Jack gave you another sloppy kiss before responding. His eyes were filled with lust and you could tell he was more interesting in doing than talking. “It didn’t sit right with me that you were still doing that show even though we got together.”
“We secretly got together.” You reminded him. You brushed your thumbs on his cheeks, lightly ruffling his beard as you cupped his face. You pecked his lips. “It would have been weird to cancel after that picture of the festival went viral. It’s also a huge opportunity to get my name out there. Besides, I wouldn’t have kissed anyone else on there. You know I’m not like that.”
“I know, baby.” Jack said, giving your butt another squeeze. “I just...couldn’t help myself. The thought of another guy even thinking he had a chance with you makes me sick. Especially dressed like this. ”
“You’re so possessive...” You teased him bending down to give him another kiss. You let your hands travel down his jaw to his neck to his chest, loving the soft material that covered his hard muscles underneath.
Jack reciprocated by slipping his hands underneath your shirt and caressing your breasts. “You’re one to talk. Sitting on my lap like that. Kissing me like that. I should’ve bent you over the table right there.”
You laughed. “You were the one being awkward about it. I had to do something.”
“Yeah, well I gotta do something now.” Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out the black satin blindfold. You gasped softly before it turned into a giggle. He waved at you. “What do you say?”
You nodded and Jack surprised you by not wrapping it around your eyes, but around your wrists instead. Jack let one hand fall back to your behind, this time letting a finger hook on your underwear. He gave a sharp tug at the thing piece of your thong and snapping it causing you to moan softly.
“Get in position, baby...” He cooed.
You climbed off of him and let your knees sink deeper into the bed. You bent forward so your butt was in the air and your face was pressing into the comforter. You felt Jack’s hand run against your wrists checking the tie before letting them slip under your skirt and message the skin there. You closed your eyes, relaxing into his touch. All night you were waiting for this moment and you knew Jack was going to deliver.
~
Dating Jack was probably your worst kept secret. From the festival to the interview to the way you were screaming his name in that hotel room, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you both had to go public. It wouldn’t be until a couple weeks later, when the blind date video aired, that you would realize Jack was ready for that a bit earlier than you thought. His final remarks about the date were a lot more clear than yours and they gave you butterflies when you saw them.
“As I said, Y/n, is the perfect partner for me. Smart, ambitious, beautiful, independent, supportive --it’s all the qualities that make her a good friend that would make her the best girlfriend. I know she thinks I’m not ready to settle down, but I’ve been single for too long. I’m hoping to get that second date and maybe a third and a fourth... you know until we can’t even keep count.” Jack let out a laugh and a shake of his head. And a teeny tiny wink, so small that you could’ve missed. But you didn’t, because you knew it was for you.
____
A/N: This has been in my drafts since Valentine’s Day!! I didn’t like it because it was slightly different from my usual style since it has a lot of dialogue. But I re-read it recently and thought, eh, why not? Plus I remembered really liking the secret relationship plot twist.
I hope y’all liked it! Thank you for a great year (and then some!). Hopefully I can come back in a better headspace and write with you all again soon. Till then, be well 💕
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Chapter 15 of 21 Questions
better interface on wattpad + chapter updated till 27
ORLANDO VERSUS TOUR SHOW
Fucking nine in the morning, I am being woken up at nine in the morning to go I don’t even know where. To say Alex was confused was an understatement. Lily had randomly woken Alex up to announce to her that they were going on a road trip for a couple of days. Nothing too extravagant according to Lily, but Alex was still sceptical – and tired. She was definitely too tired to think about the why and how so she simply decided to accept it. Alex knew anyways that once she was up, she was unable to go back to sleep so she just got up and dressed with an outfit prepared by Lily. The girls’ suitcases had also been packed beforehand but Alex wasn’t allowed to look at what was inside as Lily didn’t want her friend to recognise almost all of the clothes they had packed a few days prior when they went to Atlanta.
“You can get ready in the car,” Lily suggested. “It’s quite a long drive.”
“M’kay, I’ll forget how suspicious all of this is right now. You’re lucky to have chosen my favourite hoodie.”
The piece of clothing in question was a GAP orange hoodie that Alex had been over the moon to find as it was exactly the same one owned by none other than Chris Sturniolo, which Lily knew perfectly. As Lily had chosen for Alex to support Chris’s team again – he did win last time, she had decided to wear a fully blue outfit in honour Matt’s request at the Atlanta show.
“Can I trust you not to look at your location on your phone?” Lily asked Alex once they were in the car and ready to leave.
“Yeah, I promise to keep our destination a surprise because I trust you,” Alex replied with a playful tone.
~~~
Almost two hours later, the girls were nearing Orlando. As Alex had tried to not pay attention to the road signs and given her poor sense of direction, she had no idea where they were going until the huge ORLANDO: NEXT EXIT sign appeared above the road.
“Wait a damn minute– are we going to Orlando for the reason I think we’re going to Orlando for?” Alex turned to Lily as she was getting hopeful.
“Well, I don’t know…” Lily couldn’t resist a smile. “What are you imagining?”
“Lilyyy”, Alex dragged out the last vowel. “Please tell me we’re going to see the triplets again?”
Alex’s voice was almost pitiful as she was now a hundred percent sure that they were there for them. As Lily told Alex to open her most recent conversation on Instagram, the blonde started reading the messages and almost screamed from pure joy as she now had the confirmation that they had tickets to the Orlando show of the Versus Tour.
“You cannot know how I would be ready to marry you right now for this”, Alex said as she just wanted to hug her best friend.
“I mean– we can always ask the venue if they do weddings”, Lily laughed at her own comment which in turn made Alex laugh as well.
Alex was over the moon and couldn’t stop thanking Lily until they arrived at their hotel’s parking lot. They checked in their rooms and began to get changed as Alex discovered what was in her suitcase.
“I understand now why I’m wearing my Chris hoodie, but what was the point of packing so many clothes?”
“You don’t expect us to wear the exact same thing two shows in a row, don’t you?”
“What–” Alex was really confused as she wasn’t even wearing anything that she wore in Atlanta. Once again, she got hit with a wave of hope as she thought she was getting it. “I swear to God if you mean a third show, I’m buying rings right now and asking Nick to marry us today.”
Lily simply handed four pieces of paper to Alex and let her read them. The first two were for the show of today in Orlando while the other two had TAMPA written on them. Alex couldn’t believe that it was more than simply being at the shows. Indeed, they were going to be able to take pictures again with the triplets and even have the opportunity to talk to them before the show the next day.
“So, what are you waiting for?” Lily teased. “Don’t forget I only wear silver, just like our tickets for today.”
Alex hugged her friend to thank her for everything she did and couldn’t wait to experience another show of the Versus Tour. She knew that it would mostly be the same thing over again as the games didn’t change, but it would still be a special day to remember for years.
~~
Alex and Lily were now at the venue, ready to queue before getting their picture taken. Although they wished to be able to take pictures after the show when one of the triplet would wear the crown, getting their pictures before meant that they could come back early to their hotel and get enough rest before driving to Tampa the next morning.
Per Matt’s request, Lily was wearing a blue flannel with a black tank top underneath along with her blue flared jeans and her boots. She had asked Alex to draw sharks on her cheeks, the same way she had had the bats in Atlanta. Alex had kept her orange hoodie on and had simply put on black sweatpants with her white sneakers, which was a very “Chris outfit” according to her.
While queueing, the girls had been able to take pictures with funny sunglasses and get friendship bracelets which they thought made the experience even better. Meeting people you didn’t know ten minutes before but forming a bond due to common interests was beautiful, even if you might never see that person again.
Way less nervous than in Atlanta, the girls were simply excited to see the triplets again as it was almost their turn to get their pictures taken. They had chosen again to be together in the two photos and so they both went in front of the camera.
“Hey, you changed teams!” Nick exclaimed as soon as he saw Lily’s makeup before hugging her.
“Hi! Oops, sorry.”
While Lily was bonding with Nick for the second time, Matt couldn’t help but look at her even though he was hugging Alex. He had quite a good memory with faces and immediately recognised the bubbly girl he had met a few days ago.
“Hi, glad you could make it.” Matt said, almost relieved that she was here.
“Heyy, yep and I’m betting on you today.” Lily smiled at Matt.
As Lily was about to hug Chris next, she and the two other triplets noticed that he was frozen smiling in front of Alex. The reason why? They were wearing matching hoodies and Chris couldn’t believe his eyes. He didn’t care if they were going to hold the line and piss off the cameraman as well as security, he had to make everyone notice.
“This is the best thing to happen today”, Chris happily said as he dapped up Alex – no worries, she did get a hug before Chris realised they were matching. “Guys, have you seen that?”
The three people next to him had no choice but to nod as obviously, they could see the two bright orange hoodies from a mile away. Even the people waiting in line found it extremely funny as they were trying to record the moment which was very much giving that one Spiderman meme.
After noticing that they weren’t supposed to take this long for the group pictures, Nick suggested they take them quickly as to not “fuck up the tight schedule”. Therefore, they took two pictures with Matt on Lily’s side, Chris on Alex’s once again and Nick in the middle. In both pictures, Chris and Alex had decided to point at each other as none of them could get over this coincidence.
After thanking the triplets and saying goodbye, the girls left the photography area to start walking towards the pit. What they couldn’t see behind them was Chris nodding to his brothers and giving a sort of hand signal to their manager Laura who was standing a few metres away from everyone. She understood immediately and began to follow the two girls in order to stop them before they could reach the crowd.
Alex and Lily were definitely confused as to why they were being pulled aside by Laura but their expression rapidly morphed into one of surprise as she explained what would happen to Alex if she wanted to: getting on stage during today’s show and playing the games on Chris’s team. Although it wasn’t even addressed to her, Lily agreed on behalf of her friend who was too stunned to speak but eventually nodded once her brain had processed the proposal. This is how Alex thus found herself backstage waiting with two other girls – one was wearing a shark onesie while the second was dressed in purple with Nick’s team’s name written on her top.
While the three girls were waiting to go on stage, the triplets had come to see them and explain the structure of the show before they left to announce the popular vote – which Matt won once again. Then, Nick introduced each teammate and it was finally time for the girls to appear. As Alex walked on stage towards Chris, she tried to find Lily in the crows as a way to get some moral support. The blonde quickly found her best friend who gave her the biggest smile ever, which Alex reciprocated with a wave. Now that everyone was on stage, Nick explained the rule of the first activity:
“So here’s what we’re gonna do. Every teammate is gonna paint their triplet, no matter if it’s us right now or last week or whenever, you just gotta make it look like us.”
Alex and the two other girls agreed, then got ready as they would try to paint the triplet they were with during the next two minutes.
“I hope you make me look good, I saw what you can paint”. Chris said to Alex as he believed in her.
“Brooo, so much pressure right now.” Alex tried to focus on the canva in front of her. “What I painted for you guys was me alone in a room for hours so I won’t do as good.”
“It’s okay, I’ll be proud no matter the result don’t worry!”
Alex was feeling more relaxed as Chris was very supportive, which increased her motivation to win this round. She had decided to paint Chris as he currently was: wearing the crown and the orange hoodie. It seems that Chris was right to believe in her skills because she enabled their team to get the most cheers and therefore win the painting activity – which led to Lily screaming the loudest she could for her best friend. Chris and Matt were now tied with one point each as the game of trivia was about to start.
Tools were brought on stage and each team sat down with a small whiteboard.
“You got this babe!” Lily shamelessly shouted as there was a brief silence.
Alex chuckled and thanked Lily with a huge smile as she waved back at her.
“Damn, you’re not supposed to support them when you’re wearing my colour.” Matt chimed in as he recognised Alex’s friend.
This small exchange led to everyone in the venue laughing until Nick tried to shush the crowd before giving the signal for the questions to start being asked. From the origin of Halloween to the weight of the world’s biggest pumpkin, Chris and Alex were doing pretty good as they had gained three points thanks to the girl. Indeed, the blonde had based half of their answer on Lily, which had made Chris laugh every time – “Lily has a white car so it must be the answer” and “Lily has brown eyes so she proves our point”. Not that he was mocking Alex, but he was admirative of their bond and the support the girls gave each other.
It was now time for the last question as they were asked for the numbers of stars on the Walk of Fame.
“Eh, how would I know?” Alex wondered out loud.
“Don’t you have an idea? A rough number at least?” Chris asked the girl as he didn’t have any.
“Bro, I live on the other side of the country like– I don’t know but a lot I guess…”
“Hmm”, Chris tried to think. “How do we feel about a thousand?”
“Let’s go with that, should be kinda close I hope.” Alex agreed with her teammate.
As the timer stopped, Matt said five hundred stars, Nick said seven hundreds and sixty while Chris said a thousand. Turns out that even a thousand was not “kinda close” as there are actually two thousand seven hundred and fifty-two stars on the Walk of Fame. The trivia activity had now come to an end and it was time to play basketball.
“So glad to be on your team because I know we’re def winning,” Alex claimed.
“I know I’m the best but I’m still counting on you.” Chris’s ego was absolutely boosted by the girl.
“Yeah, no worries. I should be able to get at least one, I hope…”
True to her words, Alex did manage to get the ball in and at the end of the game, her and Chris managed to stay in the lead with nine points. As Nick had seven and Matt five, it meant that the game of Jenga was going to determine everything. Right before the last activity began, Alex’s eyes seeked Lily once again and were met with the purest expression of love as Lily was capturing her best friend’s happiness with her camera. Knowing that Lily was watching her, Alex was ready to give her best and not knock the tower down.
While it would be the triplets’ turn to play, Alex and the two other girls would talk with each other, thus deepening the bond between them as something more than just being competitors. Indeed, they were here due to the same love for Nick, Matt and Chris.
Thanks to the platform on her sneakers, Alex was almost as tall as Chris and was able to keep playing while the tower kept getting higher. Chris had just managed to prevent it from falling as it was looking very much like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Then, like lots of previous shows, Matt eventually failed and was the one to lose the game of Jenga. While the middle triplet was in despair, Chris went to high five and hug Alex as they were therefore the winners of the Orlando show. Alex was absolutely overjoyed: not only did she go on stage with her favourite YouTubers, she helped bring victory to her team. As Alex went to hug everyone on stage, Lily was still taking pictures of her friend. She never wanted to forget Alex’s expression on that day and wished to cherish it forever. Alex’s joy was to be remembered and appreciated as she deserved what was happening to her.
Then followed the crowning ceremony when each time took pictures before taking one with the triplets and their teammates. Nick, Matt and Chris thanked the crowd and the fans on stage with them before going backstage as Tril was going to perform again.
“Thank you so much for this wonderful experience”, Alex said to the triplets when they left the stage.
The other girls agreed and thanked the triplets as well, before getting guided back to the main area of the venue.
“I’m glad you guys all enjoyed it. It was so nice having you with us, and we’ll maybe see you again one day!” Nick told the girls before bidding them goodbye.
Alex and the two other fans left the triplets and went back to the pit while Tril was still performing. They spent the rest of the mini concert together and each joined their friends after exchanging their socials to keep in touch.
“ALEX!!” Lily ran to hug her best friend as they were together for the first time since a couple of hours.
“LILY!! Oh my God, this was the best day ever!!”
“I. Am. So. Happy that you got to live this babe, this is amazing!! I have so many good pics, I need to show them all to you tonight.” Lily was ecstatic regarding what Alex experienced.
“Yay, I wanna see them all and I absolutely want to post some.” Alex hugged Lily and held her tight. “Thank you so much for capturing those moments for me, I love you.”
“Love you too.”
The two girls kept fangirling about today’s show on the way back to their hotel. They had the same routine as in Atlanta as Alex showered first while Lily took her camera and laptop to actually edit her pictures. She was choosing her favourites – those who were truly highlighting Alex’s happiness and some of the triplets that she thought looked good. Lily was realising that she had unconsciously taken many pictures of Matt – not as many as photos of Alex obviously – and couldn’t help but admire them for a bit until her friend got back in the room.
“Hey, if you wanna look at my pics from today and download your favourites. Go ahead and see if you like some.”
Alex thanked Lily before going to sit on the bed and skim through the brunette’s pictures. She selected some of her on stage and a couple of the triplets. She knew that Lily didn’t really like to have her face on social media so Alex didn’t include their group pictures in her Instagram post. She still decided to tag Lily’s photography account as she was the one who had taken the pictures and figured she would also tag sutrnioloteam in case the triplets would check their most famous fan account.
As Lily returned from her shower, she got her laptop back from Alex and started looking at the pictures she had taken of Atlanta and Orlando, but only of the city and its landscapes. She thought that after being in Tampa, she would post a small dump of their trip.
When the two girls had eventually each seen hundreds of photos, they began to feel tired and went to sleep as they would have a long drive tomorrow to reach Tampa for their third show of the Versus Tour. They knew that today being a Wednesday, it meant that a new video would come out but they chose to watch it the next day as they had planned to leave early and get some rest before the show.
“Good night Lily, thanks for being the best friend ever and gifting me with such wonderful memories.”
“Good night Alex, I’ll always do my best to make you happy.”
Thank you for reading. Votes and comments are always appreciated if you like this story :) The story is co-written w @/little_grapejuice on wattpad
#chris#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matt#nick stuniolo fanfic#nick stuniolo#nick sturniolo#nick#the sturniolos#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic
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The RESTRICT Act, Jim Crow laws, police brutality directed towards bipoc communities, ICWA, train derailment with chemicals poisoning major water sources, anti-Trans laws, controlling education, active hate groups, militarized police force, extremist values in government....the list goes on. Does anyone else see the parallels to how fascism rose in 1930s Nazi Germany? I feel it would be wise to know what exactly we are fighting for and against at this point. It's not just individual issues. This has been planned for years. It comes after marginalized communities first. Now it's big enough that it's noticeable almost at a glance. Keep on being loud. It doesn't have to be protest, it can be emails, petitions, it can be building your local community and then when the day comes that we have no more options, we band together. Silence and compliance is where fascism gains ground and thrives. Stay strong everyone! 🤝 🩷💜💙 I will continue to add links and resources in the comments when I come across them. https://www.house.gov/representatives/find-your-representative <----- email, call your representative. Find their socials and leak all their secrets
https://www.opensecrets.org/ <------ find out where to hit them where it hurts! This website has all the information on where politicians spend money.
Petition to stop cop city which will create a training grounds for cops to learn military techniques on how to kill a protest
ICWA petition
https://www.pointofpride.org/ <----- Resources for Trans people
https://www.desireebstephens.com/ <----- resource to understand how white supremacy works and how to de-colonize
#blacklivesmatter#internet censorship#net neutrality#s.686#us politics#activism#reproductive rights#protect icwa#transrightarehumanrights#indigenous rights#antifascism#attack on titan#last of us#human rights#people power#i believe in you#unity
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Right my wrongs
Traveling around the world with Jack this summer was one of the best and worse things that’s ever happened to you. It’s been one of the best things that’s happened to you since you got to make many memories with him and explore the word together but at the same time you were missing out on your life, you put your life and career on pause to be with Jack. You weren’t happy with how things are and Jack could see that.
“Can we just talk about this later Y/N I really don’t want to hear it right now.” You huffed and shook your head at Jack, you were both currently in Atlanta for one of his shows tonight. After his show he was going to fly you and Neelam out to New York for his next show the following day.
“What do you mean you don’t wanna talk about it Jack? I’m not even going to see you for two days. Honestly I’m really tired of this I’m not happy here Jack.”
That last sentence caught him off guard he knew you’ve been off these last few days but never really payed much attention to it just taking it as a sign you were tired, but hearing that you weren’t happy made him worry.
“Not happy with me or with my schedule. Baby I never want you to feel like you can’t tell me how you feel if you’re not happy I’ll drop everything right now and cancel the show tonight for you.” You didn’t want him to cancel his show for you because he worked hard for this lifestyle and this career maybe it was selfish of you.
You made your way towards Jack and sat on his lap fiddling with his Kentucky chain while he gripped your thighs pulling you closer into him.
“Don’t cancel your show tonight your fans love you and I don’t wanna ruin their night because of my selfish ways, I just it’s just touring and everything and going from city to city was fun at first but I feel like I have nothing for myself, I wanted to go to college and get a career I need something for myself.. being known as Jack Harlow’s girlfriend isn’t enough for me.”
Jack hated that you felt this way it was never his intention for you to feel this way. He knew he had to change his ways or something or else he’d lose you. You both wanted one another but life was forcing the two of you into different directions and different paths.
“I promise things are gonna get better baby just hold on a bit longer for me love.” You nodded before standing up seeming as it was about to be show time in a few minutes and Jack had to finish getting ready.
You watched as Jack performed on stage as he did every night you admired him in awe at how well he clicked with his fans and how they all adored and loved him and matched his energy, but this wasn’t your scene anymore you wanted to be happy you wanted to be able to do things that made you happy. It’s why you messaged your friend Naomi to meet you at the airport so she could take you back to her home instead of flying out to New York with Neelam.
“Jack’s gonna meet to two of you in New York tomorrow, you wanna say bye to him before we go Y/N?” Jack’s security asked you but you shook your head no you knew he’d get the letter you left in his dressing room so saying goodbye would be even harder to do.
As you were walking down the hallways to leave the building you passed Jack in one of the rooms and you spotted your letter he had in his hands, it wasn’t opening meaning by the time you reach the airport he would’ve already read it. Your felt the tears starting to brim your eyes but you knew this was for the best.
Once you arrive in the suv the drive to the airport was silent till your phone started buzzing due to Naomi texting you. Neelam side-eyed you curious as to who you’d be texting this late at night. You knew she was watching you she probably thought you were cheating on Jack.
“Ladies we’re here.” The drive told you which brought you out of your daydream you smiled once he opened the door for you and helped you out of the car before handing you all your luggage.
Neelam was walking ahead of you so she didn’t see you walk in the opposite direction till she no longer heard your footsteps that’s when she turned around and saw you speeding walking over towards Naomi with all your belongings.
“Y/N? What are you doing where are you going the planes this way.” Neelam approached you and saw the tears streaming down your face.
“This isn’t for me anymore Neelam I can’t keep doing this I need to find myself and do what makes me happy, this makes Jack happy not me I just.. I can’t anymore.” Neelam smiled sadly at you before pulling you into a hug and waving at Naomi.
“Just know you can always call me or text me don’t be a stranger.” Neelam threatened making you laugh before going back to the car with Naomi.
Jack was freaking out he had just read your letter he knew he had lost you for good he texted and called you but it all went to voicemail or all his texts he sent through went green.
He finally called Neelam and she picked up right away.
“She’s gone Jack I’m sorry honey.” Jack had no idea what to say or do he lost his girl and honestly he believed there was no way he could write his wrongs. No song or rap could ever bring you back.
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You’ve Got Me Hooked - Chapter 6
Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Riley McKenzie)
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Sex work, Stripper, OnlyFans, Strip Club, Lap dance, Alcohol
Catch up: Series Masterlist
Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @marytudorbrandon@foxyjwls007 @peaches1958 @identity2212 @summersong69 @liecastillo @islacharlotte @enchantedbytomandhenry
A/N: If you want to be added or removed from my taglist, let me know!
Masterlist
Sy
It was a really long fucking week so when one of the guys suggested going out and getting drinks on Friday night, I immediately said yes. I do regret not asking more questions as soon as I pull up in the parking lot an hour later.
Luke suggested we go to a place in Atlanta since it’s his cousin’s birthday. He promised good booze and plenty of women which I now understand was code for strippers. I should have checked what this place was before mindlessly punching the address in my GPS.
I shake my head to myself but walk in anyway, following the muffled sound of music down the dark hallway that leads into the club. I’ve already made the drive over, the least my friend can do is buy me a beer for the trouble. A bouncer in a suit checks my ID — something I don’t remember happening since I turned sixteen, grew a beard and shot up six inches.
The main room is dimly lit with colored LED lights outlining the various stages around the room. There are two bars, one on each side of the club. A series of open booths line the wall furthest from the big stage while smaller tables are spread around. There is an area towards the back that has a row of seats with dividers on either side for lap dances as well as a curtain that has a neon VIP sign hung above it. It’s easy to spot the guys and I make my way to an empty spot by the edge of the bench.
“Sy! Glad you made it.” By the slurring of his words, I gather that Luke has already indulged in his fair share of drinks.
Jared meets my gaze with a look that matches my level of annoyance. His car wasn’t in the parking lot so he probably caught a ride with one of the others, thereby remaining completely in the dark as to where they were headed. I’ll offer him a ride back to town after we finish our drinks.
A girl wearing a low cut top and barely there shorts approaches us to clear the empty shot glasses from the table and takes my drink order. There are a few girls around the room with the same outfit while most of the others wear some type of lingerie.
When the waitress returns with my beer, I wrap an arm around Luke’s shoulder and lean into his ear. “You’re buying me this drink as your punishment for making me drive all the way out here.”
“I’ll do you one better, I’ll buy you a dance.” His arm is already in the air, flagging down a woman walking in our direction.
The girl is beautiful — they all are — but I have no interest in having her grind on me when I barely have enough room to sip my drink without brushing Luke’s arm and I tell him as much.
“Fine, VIP it is,” he answers, handing the blond a bill.
“Wait, that was not the poi—” My argument is cut off by the cheers coming from the rest of the booth. I sigh, getting to my feet and letting the woman lead me away. She pauses next to the security guard and turns back to me.
“I’m just waiting for the song to end so you get your full time.” I couldn’t care less about getting a full three minutes. She smiles and bats her thick eyelashes at me then takes my hand when the song slowly fades. Once we are in the room, I stiffen at the sight of the bed. I desperately try to remember how much Luke handed this woman when requesting the dance because the sight makes me wonder if this is the type of place that offers extra services but the blond answers for me.
“Some guys prefer to lay down for these dances. Your friend paid enough if that’s what you want.”
“The only reason I followed ya back here was so he wouldn’t argue when I tell him I’m goin’ home early,” I grunt. “The chair will do just fine.”
“Oh so you’re one of those, huh?” I’m not sure if it’s an insult or just her thinking out loud. She takes my hand again and ushers me to sit in one of the chairs positioned in front of a small stage with a pole. “Would you prefer if I danced on the stage rather than on you?”
It’s not often that I’m completely uncomfortable in a situation. I can remain cool as a cucumber while dodging bullets for fuck’s sake but paying a half naked woman to dance on my lap has me completely at a loss.
“Yeah, thanks.”
This is what Riley does for a living. Literally. She dances for whoever is capable of shelling out the cash just to survive. I’ve never been a fan of strippers — as my entertainment not as human beings — and just picturing my beautiful, timid Riley in this room causes my blood to boil. I really gotta stop goin’ all possessive alpha at the mere mention of her name.
“It’s no problem, I’m here to cater to your preferences.”
I snort, “Sure but don’t people usually ask for more, not less?” Talking is good, I need to keep her talking. If I’m going to spend the next few minutes in the same room as this woman, I would much prefer not doing so in uncomfortable silence which she seems to have picked up on already.
“Yeah, I suppose but a lot of the times the requests are really harmless.” The blond does a few spins around the pole, slowly moving her hips.
“What kind of requests?” I never gave much thought to what strippers do while they are with customers but I can’t help but ask. Clearly I’m a masochist because I suddenly want to know exactly what Riley goes through on a day to day basis.
“Some guys want you to pull their hair, ask for a back rub — no not a euphemism, they just want a shoulder massage — some want you to talk dirty to them. I’ve had a regular try to introduce me to his mom. She ended up tipping me more than her son ever did because she found my pole skills impressive.”
I burst out laughing at that comment. “You’re shittin’ me?” I can’t imagine my mama in a place like this. She’d have turned bright red just at the name.
“Nope, here I’ll show you what I did.” She proceeds to do a series of ridiculously complicated jumps and spins at a breakneck speed that has me fearing for her safety until both of her heeled feet are back safely on the ground which coincides with the end of the song.
After we leave the VIP area, she takes hold of my wrist a few feet away from the booth.
“One of your buddies bought a birthday dance on stage so if you want a good laugh at their expense I suggest you stick around for another half hour or so.”
I don’t have time to ask for clarifications before she walks off to a man by the main stage who she greets by name.
When I return to the booth, I sit next to Jared, ignoring the two strippers dancing on the men across from us. There are seven of us crammed into the booth. I recognize Seth thanks to the family resemblance — he and Luke both share a bit of a dumb fratboy face — and I assume the others must be his friends. I’m surprised Sam didn’t come out tonight but he’s probably at home with his girl watching videos of Riley. Sometimes I hear the notifications on his phone from Riley’s live streams where she invites viewers to visit her at a certain club. It makes my teeth grind every time.
“I say that in half an hour, you fake an emergency from your wife so we can go back to mine and order a pizza.”
Jared perks up at the promise of escape. “I’m all for fakin’ an emergency but when I get outta her I’m gonna have a lot of grovelin’ to do if I don’t wanna sleep on the couch.”
“Hey, I did that for weeks, it’s not so bad.”
Jared punches me in the shoulder but he doesn’t bother hiding the smile from on face. We busy ourselves with talking about some of the renovations we are planning on doing at his place while politely declining anytime one of the girls offers a dance which, unfortunately for us, happens a lot.
The blond who took me to VIP, and who has since introduced herself as Kira, says it’s because the dancers think I’m hot and would enjoy the opportunity to give me a dance. I’m not sure if it’s the truth or if she’s just trying to sweet talk me into another dance. She came back to me while I was chatting with Jer, asking if she could sit on my lap and rest her feet. I agreed because, well, what else was I supposed to say. I ignore Jared’s raised eyebrow and the jealous glances from Seth and his boys.
The DJ eventually lowers the music, announcing that it’s time for a special performance. Luke looks at his cousin and a few of the others clap him on the shoulder. Kira turns in my lap to face the stage and looks over her shoulder at Jared.
“I hope you boys enjoy the show. It’s the first time Sugar does one of these, I’m curious to see how she’s gonna do.”
Pink lights flash across the stage and three girls come out from behind a curtain. Seth doesn’t wait for the DJ to finish calling his name before practically running to the stage where a black-haired girl has set up a chair on which he happily settles. There is a busty blond on his right and further behind is a girl with curly pink hair.
It takes a moment but as the woman moves closer to Seth, I realize just who it is that I am looking at. She has dark purple — nearly black — lipstick and thick eyeliner. It pairs well with her black leather corset and matching thigh-high boots which mostly cover the fishnets she wears below them. I see a dark triangle over her pubic bone but other than that, she may as well not be wearing underwear. Dear lord, give me strength.
“Sy, that’s…” Jared sounds as panicked as I feel.
“I know Jer.”
“We should go.”
I stop hearing my best friend's voice after the spotlight lands on Riley. She holds a belt in her hands which she wraps around Seth’s neck, taking him by surprise.
“The scary dominatrix is Razzy. The blond is Sugar and the black-haired girl is Snow. Like Snow White.”
Snow straddles Seth’s lap and whispers something in his ear that makes him smirk then lift his chin defiantly.
“The boys always act all tough when they get up there,” Kira says, shaking her head.
Snow stands and Sugar pushes Seth off the chair, sending him down onto his hands and knees. Riley then uses the belt as a leash and has Seth crawl around the stage like a dog. She shows off her pet to the cheering patrons while Sugar takes his spot on the chair and Snow dances on her lap instead.
Riley brings Seth back to the center of the stage and has him sit on his haunches, watching the show the girls are putting on. She kneels down and it is her turn to whisper in Seth’s ear. When it elicits an enthusiastic nod, followed by him unfastening his jeans, she tugs on the belt and Seth obediently sprawls out with his stomach to the ground.
At some point the girls stopped feeling each other up and Sugar retrieved a second belt. Snow pulls on Seth’s pants until his bare ass is exposed then moves around to hold his hands out in front of his body.
“Wait, what are they—” Jared’s question is answered when Sugar whips Seth across the ass with her belt.
Riley frowns and says something to Sugar. She nods at whatever is said and issues a second strike which only deepens Riley’s frown. She hands the belt she is holding to Sugar who swaps it for her own.
“Oops, Sugar just got in trouble with the Queen.”
Somehow I forgot that there is still a stripper seated on my lap. All of my attention is focused on Riley.
The next time the belt comes down on Seth, there is no holding back. The difference in strength echoes through the room with a loud crack. Sugar’s eyes go wide but Riley isn’t phased at all. She whips him three more times in quick succession then pauses, looking over the crowd then nods to the DJ.
“Alright everyone, if Seth can withstand ten spanks, he gets rewarded with a dance from each one of our three girls. Let’s help him count them so he doesn’t lose track.”
Riley delivers the strikes, not stopping even as Seth’s skin turns bright red. When everyone finishes counting in unison, he is released and the girls drop their weapons. It was about time that Riley stopped because Seth is writhing on the ground, his grunts audible even from where we are sitting. His ass is going to look like a bunch of train tracks tomorrow.
“Well, thanks for the seat but if I want to make rent I need to take advantage of the fact that every man in this room got hard at that little show.”
Kira kisses my cheek then leaves just as Seth returns with Sugar, Snow and Riley hot on his heels. Riley’s gaze meets mine and if I hadn’t been watching her so intently, I might have missed the look of betrayal that flashes in her eyes before she returns her face to a carefully neutral expression.
Jared sets his hand on my shoulder, pulling my attention away. “Sy, let’s go.”
I let Jared pull me to my feet and shove me towards the exit but Luke catches up to us before we make a clean getaway.
“Sy, hey.” He takes hold of my wrist but I shove him away.
“What the fuck were you trying to prove?”
Luke lifts his hands in a show of submission. He probably thinks I’m going to punch him, which is a fair concern at the moment.
“Sy, I swear I didn’t know ‘till she got on the stage. I wouldn’t set you up like that.”
“It doesn’t matter now, anyway.” I don’t look back as Luke calls after me.
“Sy! Come on, man, I’m sorry!”
Chapter 7
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