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gretavangroupie · 6 months

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Valor (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jake x Reader, Daniel x Reader

Word Count: 13.4k

Warnings: Cursin', Smokin', Drinkin', Allusions to Drug Use. Angst: Struggle and Poverty, Emotional Manipulation, Abandonment, Jealousy, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Fighting, Blood, Mentions of Death, Mention of Suicide, Suicidal Actions, Crying, Heavy Angst, Allusions to Shady Activities, Coercion, Gambling, Betting. Smut: Kissing, Heavy Petting, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Penetrative Sex.

Valor Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

A new project in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

HER POV

“I want details.” You demanded, determined to understand at least why they were keeping you so involved.

They both gave you almost the exact same look, half-agitated and half-understanding they had to at least give you something. Jake cleared his throat first.

“My dad…passed away seven years ago, and when he did, he left behind more than this shop.” Jake drew on his cigarette, readjusting in his seat as he talked. “Ace had a bad gambling problem, so bad that it put him in more debt and more depression than I really ever knew about. He used to hold these poker games for fun, until he started losin’ money, and started making more enemies than he did friends. Shit started to go south really quick. Honestly, it was a lot worse then, than it is now. The law was involved, dirty cops were playin’ cards one night and harassing my dad the next, drifters started to come around and threaten him while he was working…it was an overall unsafe environment for me and Danny.” He went on.

“Wait.” You interrupted, trying to grasp everything. “Danny, you were always here?”

He nodded. “Yup, I uh, I started off in foster care, but…no one ever wanted to keep me. I was always getting into trouble and fightin’ in school… Jake was my best friend. I stayed here more than I stayed at home…most of the time my foster parents never even knew where I was. But Ace took care of me, when he could hardly even take care of Jake. So one day, it was Thanksgiving, I think. I just…never left. I was still just a kid. Started watching every move Ace made mechanicin’. Taught myself how to fix shit.” He ended the story with a harsh swallow. You knew that was something he didn’t share often.

You couldn’t help but smile, realizing a little bit more how close these two actually really were. Raised as brothers.

“So anyway, after my dad died, I was left with all this shit…all the money he owed to people fell into my lap. Not to mention all the other bullshit…the bills, the overdue payments, taxes…he was drowning then, and we’re drowning now.”

“And Teddy, he’s been playing cards here since I can remember.” Danny explained.

“Teddy…” you repeated.

“Yeah. He’s the one that called yesterday, he arranges the games. My dad owed him so much money, we’re still paying it back. We have to listen to him when he calls, we don’t have a choice. Every time we have a game and either of us wins, we give him the money. Right off the bat. It’s fuckin' horrible.”

“Well how long until he’s paid off?” You asked.

“We’ve barely even made a dent, unfortunately.” Jake said, tamping his cigarette out on the floor between his boots. “It’s rare that either of us win.”

“Okay, well things are making a little more sense, I guess…” you could tell they were holding back on all the details, probably sparing you from knowing too much at one time. “So where do I come in, why are you hiding me?”

Jake took a deep breath, and leaned his elbows down on his knees, looking you directly in the eyes. “You’re collateral. You’re fresh meat. They know that if…they can get to you, they can use you.”

You felt your stomach drop to the floor. “Use me for what?”

Jake cocked an eyebrow. “To get to me.”

You looked back at Jake, staring each other down as you let it sink in. To get to me… You shook your head. “But that…doesn’t make any sense. Why would they think I mattered to you, at all?”

You watched a tiny grin form on both of their faces. “They know we’re protective. They know you’ve been hanging around us…and honestly, I bet they know you have money.” Danny chimed in. “Y/N, how much are you payin’ for your motel room?”

“Uh, thirty-five a night, why?” You answered.

“Are you fuckin' kidding me?!” Jake sat back in his seat as he and Danny exchanged knowing looks of ‘thought so.’

“Wanda.” Danny said, his voice seething.

“I thought it was steep, but she didn’t give me a choice in the room, said it was all she had—”

“I bet she watched you pull your cold hard cash from your wallet, too, didn’t she?” Danny asked. “Watched you count it out?”

“Y-yeah…so?”

“So,” Jake tried to explain. “Wanda is friends with Teddy’s crew. Christ…She fuckin' told them you had money…they sent Tanya down here to get concrete evidence you were with us…that’s why he called the poker game. They want your money, Y/N. On top of our money. And they know that they can get paid a whole lot quicker if they get a hold of you…they know we would pay up if it was you on the line…”

Your eyes were stuck open at all of the information, trying to soak everything in as it was fed to you.

“Me on the line…so, so you’re saying they might try to…to kidnap me? Hold me for ransom or something?” You could hardly get the words out.

Danny nodded slowly while Jake massaged his palms. “Or worse.”

“Worse? What the fuck could be worse?!” You yelled, leaning off of the countertop. Danny stood from the chair, walking over to calm the storm he knew was brewing inside you. You felt him wrap his arms slowly around your neck, in a completely non-sexual way, knowing that if you needed to feel anything right now, it was comfort.

“We don’t intend on letting you find out. And we don’t intend on giving them the satisfaction of winning like that.” He said, his voice laced with promise. You opened your eyes and peered over Danny’s shoulder, locking eyes with Jake as he nodded his head in agreement.

“I’ve only been here for like two days, guys…you don’t owe me anything, I just want to get the hell out of here, I never wanted to bring all this trouble…” you felt like you were on the verge of tears, feeling guilty that you inadvertently made their situation worse.

“You didn’t bring any trouble, Y/N. They’re bad men with bad reputations and shit lives. Teddy’s going to die wanting to bring me strife. It’s like he gets off on the shit…” Jake said, his voice trailing off as he looked at the wall behind you. Danny let go of your shoulders.

“What, Jake? What is it?” His eyes were glued to the calendar that hung on the wall behind you.

“Nothing. Today Saturday?” His face had gone completely white, stark as the smoke that bellowed from his cigarette.

“Yeah, it is…” Danny took your hands in his. “I know it’s fucked, Y/N. It’s so fucked. And I’m so sorry you got dragged into this mess. I know you want to leave, but don’t you agree that the best place for you right now is with us? We can protect you…we know how their minds work…I’d feel so much better if you just, didn’t go back to the motel…”

He was pleading with you, and honestly at this point, you’d be terrified to be alone in that motel after learning everything you learned tonight, especially that Wanda had been snitching on your every fucking move. Bitch.

You nodded, agreeing with Danny. As pissed off, insulted, and sick as it made you, you felt like you had no choice but to agree. “Alright. If it’s for my safety…I’ll stay here. But I’m not going to like it.” You were going to love it, as fucked as it was. “But honestly, how long? You’ve already been paying him off for 7 years…”

“Just until we figure something out. Until we fix your car, then you can disappear and let the wind carry you away, straight to Atlanta.” Danny answered with a true and genuine frown. He didn’t want you to leave.

“Okay. But I have a couple conditions.”

They both looked at you with puzzled expressions. “You clean your disgusting, repulsive bathroom, and you both wash your sheets. Please. For the love of god.”

Sweet, sexy laughs escaped them both as they conceded, relaxing back in their chairs. “Yeah, okay. Point taken.” Danny said, holding his hand out to shake yours. “It’s a deal, Miss Thing.”

“Good. Thank you. I’ll even make dinner tonight, for your troubles.” You offered, knowing there wasn’t much in the cabinets, but you were confident you could whip something up.

Jake stood from his chair, still looking a little pekid from whatever he noticed about the calendar earlier. He held his hand out to shake yours, too. “One clean bathroom, coming up.”

You began searching through the cabinets and refrigerator, finding a few potatoes and some bologna. Hmm, when all else fails, fry it.

You pulled some oil from the cabinet, and laid out six pieces of the almost-expired bread hidden away on the counter. This will have to do.

You’d come into this shop two and a half days ago, feeling uneasy, anxious, and unsure…and now you sat here with two of your oldest classmates as they transformed their home and business into a fortress for you to stay in, using themselves as a protective shield from the bad guys who were vying for you.

But it didn’t feel wrong staying with Danny…you liked him. You liked him a lot. And with Jake…you felt…drawn to him. Both of them. But there was something about Danny’s touch that made you crave him; him leaving you hanging in the motel room earlier was enough to make you so sexually frustrated that you resented him for a second.

The image of him lying on top of you under the covers was all you could think about, and you were absolutely dying to get him back in bed. The way his long, dark locks laid across his shoulders and reached all the way down to past the middle of his back, his defined features and strong jawline…the way his nose scrunched up when he smiled… all of it was stuck in your brain, burning little images that replayed over and over.

He felt different than Peter, that much you could tell even after just the brief encounter you’d had. Like he would let you be in charge instead of only trying to appease his every little fantasy.

And his lips on yours? Like the buzzing end of an electric wire, you could physically feel them still when he parted from you. The way his tongue felt in your mouth, his hands gripping your hips… yeah. It was decided. You wouldn’t be joining Jake in his bed again tonight.

—

JAKE POV

The smell was familiar. One you recognized deep down in your bones. A smell that transported you back in time. You pulled your sheets from the washing machine, the lid black and dirty which was kind of ironic. You tossed them into the dryer, starting it up as the smell lured you into the kitchen. You can’t remember the last time someone that wasn’t you made a meal in this kitchen.

You wiped your bleach-scented hands across your pants, the smell of lemon bathroom cleaner and Comet stuck in your nose. You realized your hands were cleaner than they’d been in probably years, after scrubbing away at the black ring in the bathtub. You could actually see the whiteness of your fingernails.

As you rested your hands on a kitchen chair, you peered over to the stove watching Y/N finish frying up a pan of diced potatoes. Your stomach growled and your mouth watered as you watched her, completely unknowing you were standing behind her.

Danny steps out of the hallway and into the kitchen, his voice startling both of you. “Damn, it smells good in here. I’m starving.” He walks up behind Y/N, peeking over her shoulder as his hand squeezes her hip. He turns to grab a few paper plates, placing them on the counter for her before taking a seat in the old wooden chair.

You swung around and sat yourself in your own chair, once again letting your eyes drift over to the calendar on the wall. Seven years today. Seven years, Ace. You lean on your fist, twirling the worn metal zippo between your fingers. Rubbing your thumb over the engravings, hand carved by the man himself. It was all you really had left of him, taking it from his pocket that day, giving it a home in yours ever since. Your heart sank the more you thought about it, which is why you didn’t ever let yourself. You always did everything in your power to forget this day, never give it the chance to crush you like this, but this year, lucky number seven… It got you.

“Alright, it’s ready!” she said, spinning around with two paper plates filled with fried potatoes and fried bologna sandwiches. That was it. That was the smell. Fried bologna. Your dad’s fucking favorite. Of course, today of all days.

“Shit this looks good, haven't had fried bologna in forever!” Danny says, grabbing the sandwich and taking a bite. She grabs her own plate and sits between the two of you, stabbing her fork into a potato as you just stare down at the plate in front of you. You’re stuck. Frozen. Your stomach telling you to eat but your mind suddenly rushing with memories you’d pushed down for years. It hurt. They hurt.

Not wanting to draw attention to yourself you picked up the sandwich, and held it to your mouth, slowly taking a bite as Y/N and Danny chatted about nothing. You wished you could turn off the instant replay in your mind of the last time you sat at this table eating with your dad. It hit you like a ton of bricks that now felt as if they settled in the pit of your stomach.

The thing about Ace though, was that he never really told you how to live your life. He just let you live it watching him, and hoping you’d learn from his mistakes. What you didn’t expect, was that his mistakes would in turn become your own burden. You hated him for what he did. You hated that he left you to clean up his mess. You hated that you no longer had a family of your own. Just Daniel, and Daniel, you. That was okay though, the two of you had each other and that was better than nothing. You weren’t sure you’d ever forgive Ace, not for leaving you, but for letting your mother leave you before you ever even got a chance to know her. That was unforgivable.

You finished the last bite of your sandwich, completely spaced out as you stared off at the wall, just letting the memories ravage your consciousness, when suddenly it all just felt like too much. You started to feel suffocated by the thoughts, the room you were in suddenly feeling too hot, and too small. Your chest started to tighten and your throat felt small. You pushed your chair back and snatched your plate from the table, tossing it in the trash can as you offered a quick ‘thank you’ to Y/N. Your feet carried you out into the garage, as your hands found the light switch.

The buzzing of the fluorescent lights calmed you a bit. Your eyes caught sight of Valor, and huff of air left your chest. A pristine 1968 Chevrolet Chevelle SS. Hardtop, Tuxedo Black with a standard 396 Horsepower engine, all hidden under a dusty beige colored canvas tarp.

Just keep your mind busy. Do what you know. You walked over to the covered car, letting your hand hover over the cover, grabbing a fist full of the fabric and yanking it off with a scream. Your eyes took her in, she was pretty, you’d give her that, but hell, maybe you would be too if someone spent all their time fixing you up. Ace sure did. Throw the football? ‘No son, we have to get Valor running. Don’t you want to hear her purr?’ You can still hear his voice perfectly, as he says it.

You slip your hand into the polished chrome handle, pulling the door open and sliding into the white vinyl bucket seat. It hugged you in just the right way, making the driver feel like they were part of the car. One with it. You grabbed the keys from the center console, sticking them into the ignition and twisting. The engine roared to life. He’d at least gotten that far, and he was right, she sure did sound pretty when she purred. But the problem is that she wouldn’t stay running. She’d run for a little while, and out of nowhere, she’d die. And that’s where he left her, sitting right here in the middle of this garage, covered and ashamed. You could barely look at it most days, leaving the cover on for months at a time until the feeling struck, and you needed to get your anger out. You’d completely tear apart the front end, combing through every single piece searching for something, anything that could be wrong, but every time you came up empty.

Like clockwork, she died. The smell of the carpet and old vinyl filling your senses the way it always had. A suffocating blend of raw gasoline and rich exhaust, with overtones of hot Castrol. You lived for it, in fact it was all you ever really knew. It brought you to life most days, the process of working on cars satisfying your need to fix. To tinker. To solve. You ripped the keys from the ignition and slammed the door shut behind you. The black paint was so perfectly shiny you could see your own reflection. You tossed the keys into your pocket and let your legs carry you up the metal steps to your desk, opening the till, and fingering through the stacks of cash.

You instinctively grab for a twenty, knowing it’s more than enough to cover your usual selection but shit, tonight was a celebration right? You’re getting the good shit tonight. Just for you Ace. Just like you’d do, right? You snatch a fifty from the register, slamming it shut with a ding as your feet stomp down the metal stairs and back through the house. As you cross through the kitchen you grab your keys from the counter, with the fifty still in hand, receiving puzzled looks from Y/N and Daniel.

You meet her eyes as you watch hers drift down to the cash in your hand, an instant look of confusion crossing her face. You crumpled it up in your hand as soon as you knew she saw it, stuffing the bill in your jeans pocket.

You know what Daniel wants to say, but you know he’s not stupid enough to say it. Her though, she has no idea, and you know she’s not afraid to speak her mind. Your eyes meet hers again for the briefest second and you wonder if she can see the pain in your eyes before you look away and head for the front door.

—

It’s not long until you’re pulling up at the QuikStop, pulling the barred door open as the bell chimes overhead. “Well then, what’ve we got here Jacob?” old man Johnson says, taking in your appearance. “Need you a top off tonight, son?” he snickers. You tip your chin in acknowledgement as you make your way to the back wall lined with a small assortment of different liquors. Your eyes scan over the offerings, stopping short when you catch sight of the good stuff. You grab the red waxed neck of the Maker’s Mark, and make your way to the counter to purchase your poison of the evening. You were typically a Seagram’s 7 man, but tonight you were pretty much feeling like a Maker’s man, considering your body was about to filled to the brim with it. fucking anything to stop the noise in your head.

“My my, this’s not ‘chur usual, son.” he grins, knowing you’re about to fork out a pretty penny.

“Should get the job done, you think?” you remark, pulling the fifty from your jeans pocket.

“Mighty fine this one is. Quell yer troubles, it sure will.” he says, taking it from your fingers. He gives you back a few small bills and loose coins that you shove into your pants pocket, snatching the bottle from the counter before he even has a chance to place it in a paper bag. “You have yeh’s a good night Jacob.” he calls out as your foot steps out the door into the thick humid air.

—

HER POV

“Thank you for dinner.” You felt Danny’s breath on the back of your neck as you scrubbed the frying pan. “Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve had a cooked meal in this place?”

His lips were trailing soft kisses down your neck onto your shoulder, making your neck crane sideways. “S’hardly a meal, Danny. Just thought you might’ve wanted somethin’ hot for a change.”

You turned to face him, scratching your nails up his pecs before wrapping your arms around his neck, hands still wet from the sink. “Mmm, I do want somethin’ hot.” His hands were under your thighs, fingertips burying in before lifting you up to sit on the countertop. He was just the right height to pull you forward a little, pressing himself directly against your core. Just that feeling alone made you weak, and hearing his harsh inhale from the contact spurred you on even more.

You kissed him, hard, feeling that want from earlier come crashing back into you again. His hands stayed on your thighs, his finger span covering almost the entirety of your skin. You both allowed yourselves time to explore again, letting things heat up like they had before. His hand moved up to grip your hair, pulling it backwards as he trailed his mouth down your throat, nipping and biting tiny marks as he did so.

Suddenly the temperature of the room increased tenfold and you felt your body begging you to do something, make another move. You maneuvered your hips to press yourself against him, his length feeling hard and stiff against you now. The guttural moan that escaped him sounded so carnal you could’ve taken him right then and there, but the risk of being caught was still heavy in your mind.

“Wait… Jake could be back any minute…” you choked out, glancing to the metal door.

“Guess we better fuckin' get to it, then.” He buried his face in your neck as he lifted you from the counter, carrying you through the kitchen and to his bedroom with ease. He kicked the door closed behind him as he drifted slowly to his bed, your mouths and hands still ripping at each other.

His knee hit the mattress and he lowered you down with a bounce, immediately reaching for the hem of your shirt before pulling it over your head. Without disconnecting your mouths, your hands anxiously fumbled around at his zipper, unbuttoning his jeans. It was like all shyness had left your body as you felt no shame in letting your hand grip his shaft, your hands burning to know what he felt like without the barrier of his boxers.

“Fuck Y/N…I want you so bad…” he almost laughed at himself, pushing your shoulder back into the pillows.

“Mmm, I can tell.” You grinned as your hand moved up and down his length, growing harder by the second. He rolled over and pulled his jeans off before towering over you again, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra in one swift motion. Your hand found him again, and this time you noticed just how much you were about to be dealing with. You weren’t sure your ever had someone his size before, and it made you fuckin' excited.

Your mouths were connected in such a way that you felt like you’d never separate; both of you completely taken with the way the other tasted. Your hands came up to grip his face, running your fingers over his cheeks. “Can you please take that fuckin' ring off your finger? If I’m gonna fuck you I don’t want to be thinkin’ about you and another man.”

Shit. You’d completely forgotten you even had it on. You hesitated a second, knowing that it didn’t mean shit to you anymore, but something told you not to throw it away. You slid it off and placed it on the nightstand, out of sight and definitely out of mind.

“Thank you. Now…let me see your body again, baby…” he mumbled, sitting back on his knees to pull your jeans and panties off. “You’re fuckin' stacked, you know that?”

Your mouth contorted into a devious grin, having never heard a man talk about you like this before. Peter never praised you, never complimented you or your looks, only took what he could get then fell asleep.

Danny made you feel beautiful, made you feel empowered…his eyes stayed bewitched as he scanned from your thighs to your tits, all the way to your face again before leaning his mouth down, licking directly over your mound and up your stomach.

His hands gripped around your hips, his fingertips gripping your asscheeks while his thumbs reached all the way to your groin…his hands were massive. He tilted his hands so that you were forced to arch, inadvertently spreading your legs apart a little as he did so. Just that movement alone made you feel used and in charge at the same time; just the sight of your body was sending him over the edge with want for you, and you liked it.

His eyes met yours again, rushed and frenzied as he silently asked permission. You nodded a little, halfway unsure of what he was asking.

“You taste as good as you look, baby?” He began to lay his body flat on his stomach between your legs, his hands pressing your muscles in that special way again, to make the display all the more visual for him. “You’re fuckin' soaked, god I bet you’re so sweet…” he muttered, running his tongue up and down the insides of your legs.

You held back a little. You were absolutely dying for him to bury his face in you, but again, this was something that Peter had only done once or twice for you, and that was only because you’d asked him to. Essentially, this was new territory. A brand new experience, really. Coming from someone who actually wanted to do it.

His tongue was traveling around still, teasing…exploring. “Can I taste you?” He asked, his deep brown eyes flickering up to yours as you anxiously let a hand down to grip in his hair. You nodded quickly, a barely audible ‘yes’ slipping from your lips. “Please.”

When his tongue finally buried in between your folds, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced in your life…obviously Peter had been doing it all wrong. His tongue buried, his lips enclosed around you…hitting all the right spots with such precision you felt like you were in the clouds. The burning, fiery, thunder-storming clouds. Your hand gripped his hair tighter as he pushed inside you, lapping his tongue side to side and up and down and pulling out again, then working tiny circles around your clit.

You realized you’d been holding your breath the second Danny popped up, laughing a little bit. “Breathe, baby.” You could feel the peach fuzz around his mouth scratching against you as he smiled through his words, but it felt good. An added bonus, the slightly painful irritation making it feel even better as he glided side to side.

You listened to his instruction as you let yourself inhale, his low growl giggle vibrating through your body. “God damnit, Danny…what the…” your knees came up around his ears, your thighs squeezing him together as you neared that sweet feeling beginning to take over your entire body. His hands were still gripped tightly around your hips and ass, holding you steadily exactly where he wanted you.

Fuck, you loved feeling out of control.

But then, suddenly, you wanted more. Needed more. He began to bring his hand around to add his fingers, lightly toying at your entrance with his fingertips.

“No, no.” You commanded, stopping him in his tracks.

“What’s wrong, you okay?” He perked up.

You pulled him up by his hair, urging him to kiss you again. “Yes I’m fine. Didn’t want you to do that, yet. I wanna feel you. It ruins the surprise.” You muttered through exhausted pants, kissing away the wetness that covered his face.

His eyebrows raised in surprise, an impressed look of intrigue flowing over him. “Oh, fuck…alright then.”

You pushed him off you to lie flat on his back, completely caught off guard by the switch. “Take them off.” You demanded, but also reaching for the hem of his boxers yourself, to speed up the process.

Once they were in a pile beside you, you hopped to all fours and placed one hand on either side of his head as his hands drifted from your back to your hips again. He was fighting himself, bucking his hips up into you as he tried to make contact.

“Let me do it. Wanna feel every inch.” You spoke again, letting him know you were on top, you were calling the shots. His facial expression was already fucked out, still shining with the wetness from your arousal…you could tell you had him right where you wanted him. You reached between you, gripping his considerable length in your hand again as he tossed his head back with a groan. Your eyes caught the way the ink danced across his neck as it pulled tight. The spider web that stretched across his throat was so intricate, you felt caught in the web yourself. He clenched his jaw together when he finally looked at you, reaching a hand up to grip your hair back away from falling in his face.

“Wanna see your face, baby. Do it, please, fuck…” he was writhing beneath you, and you could already tell he was going to be the lay of a lifetime. You teased your own entrance with his tip, tracing your wetness all around. When you finally lined up, you prepared yourself to take him in, knowing it had been a while, and this was going to be a stretch.

You went slowly, feeling every centimeter enter you, the pain so sweet and so engulfing. When you finally bottomed out, he choked out a huffed sound so beautiful you wished you had it on film, the feeling of him all the way inside you so snug, he felt like he belonged there.

“Jesus Christ Y/N…my god…” he purred, his tongue sticking out to wet his lips as you sat back up, slowly beginning a pace that you knew was going to absolutely kill you. He was unlike anything you had ever felt before, the perfect size, attached to the perfect body…his eyes finally looked up at you long enough to share a moment. His abdomen crunched in on itself when you bottomed out again, the top of his head resting on your shoulder as his hands guided you up and down.

You finally let yourself find a rhythm, leaning into him and flicking your hips back as you sped up. You let your cries fill the room; suddenly you couldn’t care less if Jake walked in on you right now. It was heavenly, perfect in every sense of the word, and your insides were swirling and begging you to never let yourself stop.

“God, please don’t stop, Y/N…right there…” he purred again, gripping your hair back as you rode him into oblivion. You leaned back a little, resting one hand on his thigh behind you while the other one balanced on his sternum. Your fingers danced dangerously close to another tattoo, one you hadn’t seen before. A scattering of words in German sat delicately over his heart. You wanted to ask him what it said, but you were scared to know, based on the location.

You felt him deep inside, simply rolling your hips forward and back as you let him take a look at the show. You felt him hitting you deeper this way, eliciting a whine from you that you were borderline embarrassed about. His hand shot to your core, his thumb rubbing over your clit as he bucked up again. “So fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N…I swear…”

His praises tightened the knot that was already building inside you, the sound of him coming apart beneath you was enough to get you off by itself. Just as you were about to let it all go, you leaned down over him again, your mouth burying in his neck, biting into him as your sounds became more and more strangled, the overwhelming feeling of pure pleasure ripping through your body.

The buildup was insane, it felt like it lasted for hours. You guessed he could tell that you were close as he began thrusting up into you, too. “Yeah baby…go for it…let me have it…”

The white light that encompassed your entire being came flashing before your eyes, your teeth clenching into the skin of his pec as you came undone, shaking with what had to have been the most intense orgasm you had ever had. You wanted to say his name, scream it into the air, let him know how good he felt inside you, but you couldn’t form a coherent word even if you wanted to. Everything went numb and dull for a split second as you came down, panting and crying out choked sounds as you relaxed. You continued riding him, though…wanting to bring him to his delicious climax too.

“I’m close baby please, please don’t stop…” he begged, and suddenly his stomach was clenching, his dick twitching deep inside you still as he pulled you up off of him, grabbing himself in his hand to let his release flow over his hand and onto your stomach. You watched as his hand worked over his length, his eyes fixed on you as he came down, and slowed his hand.

His eyebrows shot together as his facial expression showed you how good it felt, how pretty you looked with his cum on you… it wasn’t something you had ever let a man do before, but you swore in that second that if he made you feel that way for the rest of forever, you’d let him do just about whatever he damn well pleased.

When you finally caught your breath, you smiled at one another, laughing and completely out of breath.

“Christ, you were even better than I imagined, baby…” he huffed, letting his hands fly to either side of his body, careful not to drop the mess that was in his right hand. You laughed as you plopped down beside him, grinning from ear to ear as you left the afterglow set in.

“I’ve never had a man make me feel so good in my life, Danny. I swear.” You admitted.

“Really? Even when you did that to them?” He perked up in disbelief.

You nodded. “Yeah, really. There were a couple of firsts in there.”

His eyebrows raised up. “Fuck… Well, I’m telling you, I never would’ve guessed that, baby. You are spectacular. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop wanting you like that.” He brought his face close to yours to lay a sweet, passionate kiss to your lips.

You smiled sweetly back as he pulled away, looking back at you with the sweetest smirk as he made his way to the bathroom, and you suddenly found yourself completely unable to pull your lust filled eyes away from the perfect roundness of his ass.

——

“This one okay?” You asked Danny, pulling an oversized t-shirt from his drawer. It was a dingy white and filled with holes and rips, but the fabric felt soft and comfortable.

“Whatever you want, baby.” He smirked, laid out across his bed in nothing but his loose-fitting gray boxers, strumming away on a black acoustic guitar. His eyes had been transfixed on the wall across from you before you interrupted him…his fingers mindlessly crawling across the 6-string, plucking out a solemn little tune that wasn’t familiar.

You crawled back up next to him on the bed, reaching across him to his nightstand to grab his box of smokes. “What are these, anyway?” You asked, opening the top flap.

“…Not what the box says they are.” He let out a sweet laugh. “I roll my own. I blend together a few different types of tobacco to get the flavor I want.”

“Hm. That’s why yours always smell so much better than Jake’s, then?” You asked, pulling one out and running it underneath your nose. “They smell sweet…”

“Mmhm. Taste good too. Try it.” He let go of the neck of the guitar for a second, reaching to his table to grab his lighter. He flicked the ignitor and produced a flame for you, watching you intently as you brought the end of the cigarette to it, inhaling the sweet aroma into your lungs. Damn, he was right.

“That’s really tasty…” you licked your lips together. “Even the paper is kinda sweet.” You hit it again before passing it back to him.

“Yeah. Took me a while to get it just right. Came from stealin’ Ace’s half empty bags mostly.” He laughed at the memory.

You tucked a pillow up under your arm as he began to play again, the cigarette hanging from his lips as the ash grew longer. His inked hands looked sinful dancing across the strings, and he was so natural at it. You caught a glimpse of the red and black triple’s 7’s tattooed on the inside of his pointer finger, and for some reason, you were sure you’d not seen it before.

“Triple 7’s, huh?” You thought you had a pretty good idea of what it symbolized, but you wanted to see what his reasoning was.

“Yeah, symbolizes good fortune and luck.” He pulled the smoke from his lips, tamping it out on the ashtray on the table. “Doesn’t really seem to be doin’ the job too well, does it?” He ended his sentence with a wink. “Not til’ you waltzed through the door at least.”

You began fingering with a loose string on his boxers. “I thought it meant the Holy Trinity...”

“Means that too, I guess. But I stopped bein’ religious a long time ago.”

The two of you were quiet a while, just the occasional sound of Jake banging around in the shop mixed with Danny’s tune to fill the air.

“How long you been playin’?” You asked.

His voice was getting groggy, sleep threatening him as the minutes ticked by. “Since I was 5 or 6 I guess, one of my foster families had one and I remember realizing it made a really pretty noise… I’d pick it up and run to my room and strum away on it to drown out the sound of them fighting. Seemed to help me not hear it. Then I started to actually like the way it felt in my hands…”

You were quiet for a second. “That why you play your music so loud now?”

His fingers stopped altogether as his eyes met yours. His face slowly contorted into a million different emotions at once before he looked back to the wall again, gently picking up where he left off.

“Fuck, yeah…I guess it is…”

“Jake play guitar too?” You tried to change the subject once you realized you had maybe hit a little too close to home with your question.

He shook his head. “No, he plays harmonica like the damned devil, though. Only does it every once in a while, but shit…he’s good at it. Every now and then we’ll get on a good drunk and play together to a big audience of ourselves.” He smiled sideways as he turned to look at you.

“Maybe y'all can play for me sometime.” Your fingertips were sliding along the hem of his boxers.

He sucked his bottom lip in through his teeth. “We’d love to play for you…” his eyes had started bouncing around each feature on your face, taking you in again as he moved himself closer. He pressed his lips into yours again, sweet and soft and mellow. “You know I’m gonna be thinking of you on top of me all the time now…gonna want it all the time…” he groaned through broken kisses. “Fuck… I don’t think you even know how gorgeous you looked…”

You pressed your tongue between his lips again, the sudden new movements hitting the strings of the guitar causing them to make a crazy scratching noise. “I’ll ride you whenever the hell you want, Danny…” you breathed, huffing a breath into his mouth. And you meant it, too.

Just as things started to get heated again, you heard Danny’s radio in the bay shoot up to 11. It was followed by a loud metallic bang, and the sound of a loud engine starting up. It startled you, and you sat up to look at the door.

“Fuck.” Danny said shortly, rubbing his hands through his hair.

“What was that? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, no. No, he’s not. But, we’ve just gotta—” he sputtered. You slid yourself across the bed, moving toward the door as you heard another loud thud echo through the bay.

“What is he doing?!” you urge.

“He’s drunk. He’s trying to fix Valor.” He explained, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Valor? The fuck is Valor?” you ask.

“The fuckin' car his dad left em.” he answers. “Only touches it when he's wasted.”

“How do you know, does he do this often?” You stood at the foot of Danny’s bed, throwing your hip out as you crossed your arms. Suddenly you heard Jake’s loud voice yelling along to the first verse of ‘Turn the Page’ by Bob Seger. “My god, is he singing?!”

Danny sat up and crawled to sit on the edge of the bed. “Y/N, listen. Every so often, Jake will go on a bender, and when he does it, he does it right. It was Ace’s dying wish for Jake to fix that car, and the only way he can bring himself to touch it, is if he’s out of his mind intoxicated. So, we just gotta let him do it. He’ll be fine, just gotta get it out of his system.”

Wait. “So he has to be fucked up before he can even pop the hood?” This wasn’t making sense.

Danny nodded. “Yeah, he’ll be fine, this is just how he works through it.”

“Danny, that is an extremely unhealthy way for him to be dealin’ with this…” you said quietly. He shrugged his shoulders and huffed out a breath, his expressions saying nothing more than it is what it is.

Another bang and more loud sing-shouting bellowed off the walls again, and you decided you’d had it. You yanked the door open, and made your way out into the shop, seeing Jake looking a complete and total mess as he dipped his head low inside the belly of Valor. A cigarette rested between his lips as both of his hands disappeared deep down in the engine.

“Ain’t it unsafe to have an open flame that close to motor oil?!” You yelled, grabbing his attention. He perked up, his eyes a deep dark black that you hadn’t seen before. There was a scowl on his face and his nostrils flared when he looked at you, absolutely absorbed in the hatred and madness he must be currently full of. “Why are you out here makin’ all this racket?” You yelled over the music.

He pulled the cigarette from his mouth, throwing it to the floor and stomping it out as the smoke drifted from his lips. “None of your fuckin' business.” You watched as his eyes glanced toward Danny’s room. “Get back in there and let your boyfriend serenade you to sleep.” He slurred, pulling a socket wrench from his kit.

“Agh!” You had a knee-jerk reaction to his words. “He’s not my boyfriend…” you crossed your arms across your chest. Who the fuck does he think he is?

Jake raised his hands into the air. “Whatever! Don’t care!” He shoo’d you away with a flick of his wrist, and buried his face back into the engine, screaming the words loudly again. “Here I gooooo, on the road again!”

You decided that seeing him like this, for the reason he was like this, wasn’t going to fly if you had anything to do with it. You stomped over to the other side of the hood, standing until he felt you watching.

“God damnit!” He yelled, dropping the tool to the floor beneath the car. When he stood back up he met your eyes again. He reached down beside his foot, pulling up a large glass bottle of liquor, taking it straight to the head.

A handle of Maker’s. He had gone to the liquor store earlier…but where did he get the cash for something like that…?

Oh, fuck. The fifty you saw him shove in his pocket. With the red X over Grant.

“You used my goddamn money to buy that, didn’t you?” You spat as he swallowed, wiping the excess drips from his chin with the back of his dirty hand. “The fifty you had earlier, you took it and spent it on this?!” You were enraged. He was supposed to be using that to buy your parts.

“Again, it’s none of your fuckin' business, Y/N!” He was spitting and slurring his words, his face red with anger and drunkenness.

“No, it is my business! That’s my money you’re drinking away right now! That’s so fucked, Jake!” You were yelling at him now. “What do you think, I’m just gonna slide you an extra fifty for your trouble?!”

He snarled his nose up, taking another swig. “Screw you, Y/N. Get the fuck out of my face.”

You stepped toward him now, your entire body raging with madness that you just couldn’t qualm. “Why don’t you yell at me, Jake. Huh? Yell at me. Take it out on me, instead of the void. You want something to be mad at? Try me…” you hit yourself in the chest a couple times, trying to get him to have the reaction you were hoping for, probably looking mighty intimidating standing there barefoot in nothing but Danny’s t-shirt.

He stepped back away from you. “What? Why…”

“Jake, almost half of the bottle is gone. Did you go somewhere and drink before you came back? Why are you—“

“Y/N, nobody fuckin' asked for the twenty questions. Can you go the fuck back to Daniel and let me do this?! Please.” He ignored you again, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he had tears welling in his eyes. There was a long pause in the conversation. He just needed to talk…

“What if I don’t want to?” You said, your voice as meek as possible over the volume of the radio.

That confused him. “What if I want to stay here and help you?”

“You can’t help me, Y/N.” His face fell as he slammed a wrench back into the top drawer of the kit. “Nobody can.”

“Can you let me try?” You pleaded.

He looked directly at you, and you watched as his face softened a bit. He shrugged his shoulders and let them fall again before taking another big swig of the liquor. You leaned in, yanking the bottle from his hand, tilting it back and taking a long shot, yourself. You winced as the hot liquor went down your throat before leaning your elbows down on the panel of the car, looking down inside it at what he was working on. Thankfully a slower, quieter song had come across the radio.

“Now, what are we dealing with, here?” You asked, hoping he’d catch the double entendre. “Tell me all about it…”

He replaced his dirty hands back down into the front end, twisting something loose as he cleared his scratchy throat.

“It’s been seven years. Seven years today.” He said quietly as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Seven years since…?”

“Since my dad…died.” He was biting his cheeks in over and over.

“What happened, Jake?” You leaned in a little closer, brushing some dust off the top of the engine.

Jake leaned back, reached into his pocket and pulled out a few sheets of folded up notebook paper, dirty and torn from being in the hands and pocket of a mechanic. You took it gently from his hand, and slowly opened it.

‘April 22, 1975’. You read to yourself before scanning the rest of the hand-written note. You felt your heart sink as the words clicked in your mind.

“Jake, is this?”

“My dad’s suicide note. Yeah. Wrote it seven years ago today.” He replied, turning a socket wrench over and over as he avoided eye contact with you. “Left it for me on my nightstand while I was asleep.”

Your heart began pounding in your chest. Fuck. You hadn’t realized that was how he passed. You swallowed hard before even trying to speak again. “So you…you found him?”

Jake brought the bottle to his lips again, swallowing it down before passing it to you. You tilted it up, and did the same. He nodded, barely any movement in his body now. “Yeah.” His eyes were blank as they stared at the block in front of him.

You took a chopped breath. Maybe…maybe he just needs to get it out…hell. You were no psychologist.

Finally you spoke barely above a whisper. “Where was he?”

Jake was biting the sides of his cheeks in hard, his gaunt face pulled into itself as the dark circles shadowed even more in the dim light. His eyes looked dead into yours, deep and blank, before flicking up to the ceiling behind you, then back to yours.

You turned around slowly following his line of vision, seeing the high exposed rafter in the lofted ceiling.

Fucking hell.

You turned back, your eyes closed as your hands found your face, tears fighting to spring out as the image of the rafter sat burned in your brain. Jesus.

“Jake, I-I’m so…I didn’t mean for you to have to think about that again, that must have been…” you could hardly find the words to apologize, to empathize with him, with what he must have gone through that day, finding his dad like that. Gone through every day since. There were no words. There never would be any words. “I’m so sorry, Jake. Truly.”

“S’okay. In the past, now. What’s done is done.” He shrugged, nipping the bottle again.

“But you were just a kid, Jake…”

“Yeah, I was. Not a damn clue in the world. Had to do the growin’ up a man does in twenty years that very day.” You watched as a tiny tear escaped the outside corner of his eye, and he quickly wiped it away. “Left me with absolutely fuckin' nothin except a couple thousand dollars, that note, this fuckin' shit hole building, and every bad debt he ever had. But I had Danny with me. And Bubba. Danny was only…only fourteen.”

You felt your heart physically breaking into a million pieces for him, for both of them, thinking back to them being young teenagers and having to deal with that basically on their own…

“I’m glad you had them with you.” You agreed.

He nodded, his eyes turning red. “Don’t know what I would’ve done if Danny wasn’t here. Hell, his voice had barely even changed and he was helping me plan our dad’s funeral after he got home from school. But you know, he never even faltered. Kid took care of me better than I took care of myself those few weeks after. Forced me to eat, kept my mind busy…” you watched as he replayed the memories, probably running through them all in his head like watching them on an old projector screen.

“He basically kept the shop running while I stayed away from the world in my bedroom. I don’t even…” he shook his head as he collected himself. “People brought us food, Bubba was here every single day making sure we were okay…but Danny did it all. I don’t even know how he did it, he was a baby. Fuckin' workhorse…always has been.”

He took a second to rub his dirty hands over his tired eyes. “I don’t…we don’t have anybody, Y/N. No family at all.”

You reached out and cupped your hand over his, squeezing it hard as you let him talk. “Danny’s your brother.”

“In everything but blood.” He licked his lips, turning his hand over to hold yours back. You smiled, letting him know you were still here to listen, if he wanted to continue…even if it was just the whiskey giving him confidence.

“So you basically raised Danny, after that…” you relented.

He shrugged his shoulders in agreement. “Yeah, I guess, kinda. I dropped out of school right before graduation, but. Made sure he made it through senior year and all that. Honestly he raised me more than I did him, if I think about it.” He smirked a little. “We learned it all together.”

His eyes completely closed and he leaned his entire body weight down on his elbows. “Teddy…Teddy was uh, in love with my mom…before I was born.” His eyebrows raised and he laid more information out on the table for you.

“What?!”

He swigged the bottle again. “Yup. S’why he hated my dad so much. They were both vying for her at the same time…guess Ace swept her off her feet somehow.”

“Is that why he hates you so badly?” You were starting to put the pieces together. “He sees your mom in you?”

He nodded again. “Exactly. He’s still punishing me for what my dad did to him. Or my mom, whatever. I never asked for details. That’s why he’s still after me for my dad’s money. Still heartbroken and fucked up over somethin’ that went down before I was even born. The son of a bitch.”

“That’s not fuckin' fair, Jake.”

“Preachin’ to the choir, babe.” He clicked his tongue and sent you a wink.

He squeezed your hand a few times before releasing it, and walked over to plop himself down in one of the dirty lawn chairs against the wall of the shop. You followed suit, sitting beside him in the other chair as you curled your legs up and pulled Danny’s shirt over your knees.

“Tell me about Ace. Was he a funny guy?” You asked, trying to get him through his anguish. He grinned a little, hastily wiping his eyes again.

“Yeah, when he wanted to be. He was always full of dumb jokes and one-liners. But he stayed quiet most of the time, buried himself in his work. Till things went south with my mom, they got into drugs for a little bit. Nothing too serious but enough to count. My dad stepped away from it but mom didn’t. Then she just…disappeared. Before I was even out of diapers. Haven’t heard from her since.”

“What’s her name?”

“Stella.”

He took a deep breath. “You don’t have to sit out here and talk to me, ya know. I’m a fuckin' drunk mess. And I ain’t real sorry about it.”

You smirked. “Hey, just keepin’ you company.” You tilted the bottle back again, almost choking on it when it hit you. “Oh my god, Jake…the other day you said Ace died the day before your eighteenth birthday, that means…tomorrow is your birthday…?”

He nodded. “Yep. The big 2-6, I guess.”

Fuck. Now you understand why. His rage makes sense…

“Well that means we gotta have you a party!” You squealed, standing from the chair.

“No no no, it’s just another day. I don’t need no party.” You grabbed his filthy hands, standing to your feet and bringing him with you.

“Birthdays are the most important day of the year, silly!” You started dancing around to ’Cinnamon Girl’ as it blared from Danny’s speaker high on the shelf, holding Jake’s hands as you spun yourself around. “I saw your Neil Young poster on the wall, I know you love him. Come on, dance with me, birthday boy!” You couldn’t help but to try and act and candidly as you could, anything to try and make him feel just a little bit better on the anniversary of the worst day of his life. Even if it was just making him smile for a second.

“You see us together, chasing the moonlight, my cinnamon girlllllll.” You sang out loud.

Which you did, kind of. He grinned a bit and rolled his eyes at you, his sticky hands gripping just the very ends of your fingertips. You didn’t know if Danny knew what you were doing out here, but you didn’t really care if he did. It was his best friend’s birthday, for Christ sake. And no one even cared.

Jake was stumbling around, his eyes heavily hooded and red. You realized maybe the alcohol had hit him when you stood him up so fast. He stepped his feet around a little bit, hardly much of a dance at all while you swung his arms around. It did manage to bring a little bit of a smile to his face, though.

“I do love Neil Young, you’re right. And I’m impressed you know this song.” He chuckled. “Hmm, I’m fuckin' drunk though, too. Sleepy.” He said as you dropped his hands back to his sides. “Think I’m gonna go crash out.” He looked at you through one eye, and you realized how drunk he really was.

“Shit, are you gonna be sick?” You asked.

“No no, just sleep. Wan’ ma bed.” He mumbled, walking over to the shop sink to wash his dirty hands.

“Okay, let me walk you.” You offered as he finished, walking backwards as you pulled him along toward his bedroom.

When you got inside you flicked the light on, watching as Jake kicked his coveralls, jeans, and boots off as he waddled through the room. My god, his thigh tattoo, you hadn’t seen it up close, fuck…it was a dragon. Big and black and blue with fire coming from its mouth leading directly to…

He threw himself onto the mattress, his pile of freshly-washed sheets still laying a mess on top.

“Mmm, they smell so good I just wanna…” he curled his arms and legs up in them, wrapping up like a cocoon as he buried himself in them.

You laughed. “Is this what having clean sheets does to a man?!”

“They’re still kinda warm from the dryer, Y/N! Come feel, come here…” he reached his hand out, pulling you down into the bed with him. You bounced a couple times from the force, but you landed directly in his arms, face to face as you ended up tangled in the sheets with him.

“See? Still warm, aren’t they?!” He was like a giddy school kid, but what he didn’t notice was how close your faces were. You could smell the heavy liquor emanating through his pores, on his breath, and swirling through the air, but his hand that pulled you down never let go. It gripped hard on yours as you laid beside him, both of you staring at each other, feeling each other’s chests rise and fall as your heart rate skyrocketed.

Suddenly you felt the light touch of his other hand barely grazing across your back. “Are you still scared of me?” He asked, his voice hollow and needy.

You thought a second, realizing that if you were truly scared of him, you wouldn’t have faced the monster he was, head-on earlier. By yourself in your panties, at that.

“No.” You said simply, and that was the truth.

The corners of his lips tilted up just slightly as he whispered. “Good.”

You got ahold of yourself, turning your face away as you fought the demons that began circling in your mind, being this close to him.

“I know what I want for my birthday.” He slurred, rolling his head into his pillow.

“What’s that?”

“You ta’ read me more Maya poems.” His eyes were already closing as his words barely slipped out. You knew it wouldn’t be long. You were getting tired, yourself. You reached to his nightstand where your book still sat, opening to a passage of one of your favorites.

You began reading out loud, just louder than a whisper, watching as his eyes drifted closed, his pink lips mouthing the words right along with you.

And without even knowing it you fell asleep there, curled up in his pile of sheets, one hand on your book, and the other wrapped up in Jake’s.

—

JAKE POV

Even through your drunken slumber you could hear the pounding on the door. Your eyes blinked open, trying to register if it was really happening or if you were dreaming. Surely you had to be as you looked over and saw Y/N asleep next to you. She was here, in your bed, with you. Your hand rested on the skin of her stomach and you could hardly tear your eyes away from her as you took in the way she felt beneath your hand. You wanted to pull her close, smell her hair, let your fingers glide over her skin, but instead you heard the knocking on the front door continue. She began to stir from the noise, rolling to face you as you realized you needed to get up.

You pulled the blankets off of your body, your eyes searching furiously for where your gun ended up, finally catching sight of it on the dresser. You grabbed it, and bolted through your bedroom door to find out who the fuck was knocking on your door at four in the morning. You cocked your gun, and held it behind your back as you unlocked the front door, pulling it open slightly to see who it was. Bubba? The fuck?

You pulled the door open more, “What’s wrong?” you asked in a panic. This was unlike him. He never showed up like this unless something was wrong. Your eyes glanced behind him, scanning for anything out of the ordinary.

“You got that girl here, son?” he asks, raising a brow.

You furrow your brows and shift your weight into your hip, “Yeah, she’s here.”

“Good. Keep ‘er here. Don’t let ‘er outta your sight. Ain’t safe for ‘er.” he warns, quietly.

“Joey was sniffin’ around up here earlier today, askin’ questions and shit. Asked where she was, so we went and got her from the motel. She’s not goin’ back. I knew he was up to some shit.” you answer, setting your gun down on the table by the door.

“I don’t know what exactly is goin’ down over at Teddy’s but, might be best for her to just lay low here for a while. You boys don’t let them snatch that girl, whatever you do, you hear?” he says, crossing his arms. “That’s not why I’m here though.”

“Alright, why are you here…” you ask, wondering what couldn’t wait until the morning.

“Got a meeting set up for you two, ‘round 3 o’clock tomorrow. Down at the old sawmill.” he answers with a gleam in his eye.

“A meeting? The fuck kind of meeting Bubba?” you ask defensively. “Three’s in the middle of the work day, I don–”

“Yer gonna wanna take this meeting, son, promise yeh.” he nods. “Just trust me. You and Daniel better go. Don’t make me look bad, boy.”

“What should we expect?” You asked.

Bubba stepped forward, placing his hand directly on your shoulder. “Just trust me.”

“Shit, alright.” you say, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Thanks.”

“Get you some rest.” he says, tipping his chin and heading back to his car.

The hell…

You shut the door and lock it behind you, grabbing your gun from the table, and heading towards Daniel’s room. You rap your knuckles against the door, before twisting the handle, but as you push the door, he pulls it open. “Who the fuck was that?” he asks, a slight panic in his voice.

“Bubba.”

“The fuck does he want at four in the morning?” he questions, resting his hands on the door frame.

“He set up a meeting for us tomorrow out behind the old Willits Sawmill. No fuckin' idea what for, but said we need to be there. 3 o’clock.” you answer.

“A meeting?”

“S’what he said. I don’t fuckin' know…” you quip.

“Whatever, we can deal with it in the morning. Where’s Y/N?” he asks, looking down the hallway.

You run your tongue over your teeth as you huff out an answer, “My bed.”

He raises his eyebrows, “In your bed…” he pauses, hardening his jaw, “Why’s that…”

You shake your head, and look past him for a second, before letting your eyes meet his, “Why don’t you let her tell you in the morning. Get some sleep, sounds like we’ve got a long day tomorrow.” you say, clapping your hand against his back with a smug grin.

He narrows his eyes at you, and shuts his door as you step across the hallway to your room. As you open the door you see her sitting on the edge of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest as she picks the skin on her thumb. “What’s going on? What’s happening?” she asks nervously.

You step into the room, shutting the door behind you before placing your gun on your nightstand. She just stares at you waiting for you to answer as you let out a deep sigh. You motion for her to get back into the bed, watching as she scoots back over to the other side, letting you slide back in where you were. You pull the clean smelling blankets back up around your shoulders before grabbing her waist and pulling her close to you. You settle your head on your pillow, finally able to breathe in the scent of her hair as the words fall out of your lips in a quiet whisper, “Nothing you need to worry about tonight…”

Her body relaxes beneath your arm, and you let your eyes close, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours. Maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all.

—

DANNY POV

You rolled the creeper from beneath the old GMC as you heard the garage door shut and two pairs of feet shuffling across the bay. “Well, here we are again…Like deja vu.” you quip, cutting your eyes to Y/N, as she approaches.

You pull yourself up to meet her as Jake opens his tool kit across the bay. You let your eyes linger on him for a minute before flicking them back to Y/N. “Thought you’d be back last night…”

She drops her shoulders and lets out a defeated sigh, “I know. I know, I was trying, I swear, but…” she pauses, looking over her shoulder at Jake, who was now in his own little world beneath the hood of the Chevy. “I went out to talk to him last night, right? Well he kinda…opened up to me a little bit, told me about his dad… about his mom…” she says, a slight lilt in her voice. “He was so drunk Danny, he even cried a little bit.” she said, almost a whisper.

“I know. I peeked out and saw the two of you talking. Talking more than he’s talked in years. Figured I'd let him get it out. Think he needed it.” you answer truthfully.

“You saw?” she asks, and you nod your head in response.

“Anyways, I just wanted to make sure he made it to his bed, that’s all. Asked me to just stay and talk a little more and I fell asleep. I had no idea it was the anniversary of his dad’s death. No wonder he was so messed up. Oh– and it’s his birthday today. Did you know that?” she asks.

Oh shit, you forgot. “Oh, um, yeah I guess you’re right it is. Usually we don’t do anything. Kinda just another day around here.”

“Just another day?” she asks, face painted with shock. “Danny that’s so…That’s so sad. I wish there was something I could do…” she says with sad eyes.

Your eyes flicked over to Jake and you caught him, seeing him flick his head up in acknowledgement, a small smile on his face. You look back at her, resting your hand on her small shoulder, “Baby, I think you did...” both of you turning to see him gently singing along with the music playing through the speakers.

—

“So this meeting…” you start, leaning on the frame of the Chevy. Jake turns to you, setting down his tools. “Yeah, at three.”

“I was thinking, we can’t leave her here, right? Like, what if this is just a set up to get her alone?” you ask, picking the dirt from under your nails.

“Yeah I considered that. Think we’ll have to bring her with just to be safe. She can wait in the truck.” he says, pushing off the frame of the car. You follow him through the bay as he rifles through his kit in search of another tool.

“I can take the bike, you two take the truck. Do we even know what this meeting is about?” you ask.

“Nah, Bubba didn’t say, but I trust ‘em. S’only got our best interest, ya know.” he replies, snatching the tool from the box and walking back over to the truck.

“I think we need to be prepared for any scenario…” you say with the raise of your eyebrows.

“Well fuckin' obviously. No clue what we’re gonna tell Y/N though.”

“Shit, hopefully this isn’t some stupid fuckin' setup. What we got like an hour?” you ask.

“Yeah. About. Think we should clean up, or…” he asks, turning to you.

“I mean, we could, but s’not really us, huh?” you laugh, placing your hand on his shoulder, “Hey, happy birthday brother.”

He tightens his lips and nods his head as he looks to the floor, “Ahh, thanks man. Twenty-six. Seems old.” he laughs.

“Nah, not really, we still got a lot of livin’ left to do.” you smile, watching as he nods his head and his eyes flick over to Y/N who is lounging in a folding chair out front.

“She was worried ‘bout you last night.” you press, hoping to hear his thoughts.

“Yeah, came out here guns a-blazin’ and didn’t falter for a second. Talked for a bit, drank too fuckin’ much. Woke up and she was in my bed.” he says, and you feel a little relieved.

You smirk and raise an eyebrow, “She’s a sweet lil thing.”

He scoffs a laugh at you. “Guess you got to find that out for sure when I left last night, huh? Had yourselves a good ol’ time in my absence…saw your shirt must’ve been the closest thing she could grab when I got home.”

You bit your lips in, nodding as you went. “She’s fuckin’ phenomenal, man. Like, I didn’t expect that…”

He laughed again, blushing a little. “No, she seems like a good girl. Feel like shit for all the hell we’re puttin’ her through.” he admits, wiping his hand on the rag in his back pocket.

“You order those parts?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Yeah, should be here in a week or two.” he nods, leaning on the frame of the truck.

“Make any headway with Val?” you wonder, seeing it still sitting uncovered. He shakes his head, “Nah, the old bitch still givin’ me a run for my money.”

“One of these days we’ll crack ‘er.” you say, giving him one last pat on the shoulder before returning to your side of the garage.

—

You stand in the doorway of the truck, watching her buckle her seatbelt as Jake slides into the driver’s seat. “Listen, we aren’t really sure what’s about to go down, but just stay in the truck, lay low, and if shit goes south, get on the floorboard. Alright?” you ask, letting your thumb swipe over her cheek. She nods her head and you tip your chin, turning to head towards your bike.

The door shuts behind you and Jake pulls out of the driveway in a cloud of dust. You quickly jump on your bike, starting it with a roar, before following closely behind them. Your heart is pounding a little extra hard as you make your way to the old abandoned sawmill, completely unsure of what or who will be waiting there for you.

His truck slows as he pulls into the cracked and pot hot riddled lot, seeing a single car parked at the far end. It’s not a car you recognize from around here and that puts you on high alert. The hair on the back of your neck stands tall as Jake parks the truck, letting you pull up next to him.

Y/N slinks down in the seat, trying her best to stay out of sight, as Jake steps out of his truck, slamming his door shut. You lean your bike on the kickstand and walk towards him, both of you sending each other a concerned look. “Recognize it?” you murmur under your breath.

“Nah.” he says, reaching back into his belt to cock his gun. You do the same, hoping it won’t come to that, but around here it wouldn’t be unheard of.

The two of you walk through the crunching pavement over towards the dark green GMC Sprint, seeing a man resting against the driver’s door. He hears you approaching and pushes off the car turning to face you. The sun is in your eyes as you catch sight of his face, distorting his features until you get a little closer. You notice the car is still running, despite him not occupying it, and that too, makes you uneasy.

“Was at the poker game.” you whisper.

“Sure was.” Jake replies, stepping up to the man.

“Hello fellas.” the man says with a smirk. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yep, what uh– what can we do for ya?” Jake asks, with his hands on his hips.

“Well boys, to be frank with you, I’d like to make a proposition to you.”

“You were at the game the other night. Haven’t seen you ‘round here before.” You say, crossing your arms against your chest.

“You’re right, I was. Names Oscar, but you can call me Oz.” he says, extending his hand to shake. You stare at it for a minute in contemplation before reaching towards him and shaking his hand. Jake follows, introducing himself.

“Oh I know who you boys are. Heard all about yehs.” he smiles.

“Heard about what?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

“Heard you two were some fighters.” he says, tipping his head.

“Fighters?” Jake asks, shaking his head.

“S’what word on the street is. Figured I’d stop in to see for myself. Talked to some folks ‘round town, told me ‘bout your little poker games, and wouldn’t you know I got what I asked for. Saw the two of yeh’s on the side of the house.” he says, tightening his lips.

“So what, doesn’t mean we’re fighters or whatever the fuck.” Jake quips, standing firm.

“No son, I think that’s exactly what you are.” he retorts. “That’s why I asked your friend Bubba to arrange this little meetin’. Thought this could be beneficial for both of us.”

“You gonna get to the point?” you ask, trying to hurry things along.

He laughs a little under his breath, “I want you two come fight for me. You win, you get a portion of the winnins’.” he says, placing his hand in his pocket. He pulls out a stack of cash, easily five-hundred bucks. “Pay off that debt of yers real quick like.”

“Fight for you? The fuck does that mean?” Jake asks, staring at the money in his hand.

“You ever heard of Vale Tudo?” he asks, both of you shaking your heads, a little unsure of this man's motives.

“Alright, how ‘bout… No Holds Barred fightin’?”

“Yeah.” you answer quickly, earning you a nod from him. Of course you’d heard of it, you were practically raised on it.

“Well, somethin’ like that. Real private, underground type of settin’. Think up in those there bigger cities the folks call it ‘MMA’. Got people buyin’ in, bettin’ on these fights. We ain’t talkin’ no small buy in’s neither. This is big cash. Life changin’ money.” he says, raising a brow.

“Been lookin’ for myself a few boys to travel ‘round.” he pauses. “I think you two got the grit, and the need.”

“The need…” Jake presses.

“I know that Teddy character, he ain’t never gonna let you get ahead. But son, this is yer chance.”

“So, you want me and Jake to come…fight, and if we win said fights we get paid?” you ask, genuinely trying to piece this together.

“Exactly. We can work out the details, but roughly, you travel ‘round to these hosted fights, you fight favorably, we both walk home with our pockets lined.” he says.

“And how do we know, you’re trustworthy?” Jake asks. “I’ve got a life and a livin’ to make here. Bills lined up till kingdom come and they don’t pay themselves.”

“It’d be a fight here and there, every week or two with a rest period to recover yer health and bodies. Yeh’d have time at yer shop, so it’d be unsuspectin’. That’s the point son. Don’t want the heat findin’ out ‘bout it.” he says, and you start to feel uneasy.

“Seems…I don’t know. Why us? There’s gotta be people better suited than us…” you barter.

“Well truthfully Daniel, I’ve had my eye on you since you was ‘bout 17. Heard ‘bout the fightin’ from some folks, kept an eye on yeh. And Jacob, I know you learned from ‘em. Watched yeh myself just the other night. Ye’ve got somethin’, and I’m willin’ to take a chance on you boys if you’re willin’ to take a chance on me. If it doesn’t work out, well, hell we tried, still let you two walk away with a few hundred each for yer troubles.”

You see Jake’s brow furrow, and you know he’s considering it. You know this debt is crippling the shop, the two of you barely scraping by every week. You know this could be your chance. The only other thing you’ve ever been good at. “We gotta decide right now?” you ask, sending him a questioning look.

“No’sir. I’ll be in town ‘nother few days, got some outstanding business. First fight ain't for another week ‘er so over in Kirksville.” he says, reaching into his pocket again, pulling out a paper business card. Jake takes it from his fingers, reading over it before handing it to you.

“Now, you fellas think this over, give me a call once you’ve come to a decision.” he says, tipping his head. “Oh, and, for what it’s worth…” he pauses, “These buy in’s… is in the thousands range. My last fighter took home 4 grand in one night, for 5 minutes effort. Just somethin’ to consider.” and with that he slides into his idling car.

As the car pulls off in a cloud of exhaust Jake turns to you, his jaw slack and his face riddled with shock and question. “What the fuck…What was that? Wh–What do we do?”

You turn to look at him, shoving your hands in your pockets, and sucking your teeth, “Sounds like we fight.”

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fuwushiguro · 1 year

Text

Call Me If You Get Lost

part seventeen | masterlist | part nineteen

Yuuji Itadori x f!reader x Megumi Fushiguro

Genre: Smut & Angst Notes: University AU, all characters aged up. The reader is getting on my nerves a lil oops<;3 Warnings: 18+, pet names, cheating, family drama, smokin' weed!!, depression, blowjob, fingering, clit kissing, tit sucking, degradation, pining, lmk if i missed any! Words: 6.9k

Synopsis: You’ve been dating Yuuji Itadori for nine months. He’s the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, he cares for you deeply and he’s amazing in the sack. When new boy Megumi moves to town and joins your art course, you are shocked to discover he isn’t the quiet introvert you suspected him to be.

You don’t think highly of yourself anymore. There was a time you thought you were a good person, at least a better person than your parents, but that time is a mere memory. There couldn’t possibly be a more perfect person, a perfect boyfriend, a perfect lover, than Yuuji Itadori. But somehow you found a way to fuck it up.

The fucking Fushiguro’s.

“You think you’re fucking smart, kid, but you aren’t as smart as you think.” Toji tells his son. The statement is met with nothing but a huff and an eyeroll. He knows what he did was wrong, it wasn’t meant to pan out the way it did, he even apologised. Isn’t that enough? “I don’t believe for a single fuckin’ second that you didn’t tell him to come so you could fuck with her head.”

Megumi sighs, again, not even bothering to hold eye contact anymore. Instead, he’s staring pitifully at the ground.

“Got nothing to say for yourself, you little shit?”

“What do you want me to say? I said I was sorry!” he tries to defend himself, knowing it’s futile. He is completely in the wrong, there is nothing he can say to justify what he did. “You’re so fucking obsessed with her, it’s weird. It’s sick, actually.”

“Jealous? Fuckin’ sounds like jealousy to me.”

“I’m not fucking jealous of you! You’re a fucking—!”

“Woah… dad? Megumi? I could hear you yelling from outside… I got some extra groceries for our guest staying, where is she?” Tsumiki questions, carrying the bags filled with food and toiletries to the kitchen before approaching her family.

“Probably fucking fingering herself ready to bounce on this old pervert.” Megumi crudely announces to the room. Tsumiki gasps, astounded that her precious little brother could be so vulgar about someone she thought to be a friend of his.

“You better watch your fucking mouth. I’m sick of you, I’m really fucking sick of you talking to me like I’m dirt on the bottom of your shoes, same for her. She’s done nothing to you, and you know that!”

“I- I’m gonna be late for work… try and keep the noise down, please.” Tsumiki requests, picking up her car keys and heading for the exit.

Toji sits down on the nearest sofa, crouching forward and interlocking his fingers to rest his chin on as he thinks. There’s a black spot on the wall that he can’t tear his gaze from. Looks like one of Megumi’s art supplies found its way onto the alabaster wall in the kitchen. It is such a perfect stain, he thinks. The way it is so obscene and bold in contrast to the white wall it is infecting.

He can’t think about it anymore, though, Megumi is pacing back and forth in front of him. His eyes are red, bloodshot, and puffy. He’s raking his fingers through his hair, messing it up so much he almost looks like Toji’s doppelgänger.

“You know what your problem is, kid?”

“Oh, please, enlighten me. There is an abundance of things wrong with me for you to pick from.” He doesn’t stop pacing, still a ball of nervous energy as he tries to find the simplest spot to simply exist in his own home.

Toji rises from his feet, grabbing his son by his shirt and throwing him down into the nearby armchair. He lords above him, green eyes fighting each other intensely, both of them refusing to look away or even blink to seem weak. Whoever blinks first loses, they both think.

And of course, Megumi blinks first.

“You’re always coked up to your fucking eyeballs. I thought you only did it now and then, are you addicted?” Toji questions. Megumi tries to push him away, but he can’t. “Answer me, if you need professional help I’ll—”

“Stop. Just fucking stop.”

“I’m trying to help you!”

“Throwing money at my problems isn’t gonna fucking fix me, okay?!” Megumi yells. “I’m not addicted, I’m not stupid. It’s just… It’s just fun, alright? Makes everything… fun.”

Toji laughs, though it’s more like a scoff. He moves away from Megumi, allowing him to leave if he wishes. But his son seems paralysed, afraid to make a wrong move in case Toji yells at him again. Something he said has earned a disapproving laugh, but he isn’t sure what he said that’s so funny.

“You sound like… me.” Toji sighs, covering his eyes with one hand as he furrows his brows and massages his temples. “When your mother died, you’re acting how I did. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I taught you that this is okay.”

Megumi is quiet, unable to answer. It sounds genuine, a real apology. But is it real? Or is it just a trap to get him to submit?

“I don’t know how to be a good dad, or any kind of dad. I’m shit, I know that. But I swear everything I’m doing is for you. I’m trying for ya, kid.” Toji tells him, honestly.

Neither of them has heard you come out of your room, eavesdropping on their private conversation. You’re sitting at the top of the stairs, doing your best to be as quiet as possible. You feel bad for Toji, and Megumi, too, in a way. They don’t know how to be around each other properly. To be a real father and son. But you can tell how hard Toji is trying to make an effort. It’s all down to Megumi, you think. Whether or not they can move forward in their relationship is up to Megumi.

“I— I know…” Megumi sighs. “Thanks… I’ll try too.”

“Can you lay off the coke?”

“Yeah, I mean… I’ll try.”

Toji ruffles his hair and pulls him into his arms. Megumi doesn’t expect it, his eyes almost bulging out of his head at the embrace, they gloss over completely with tears when he feels his dad kiss the crown of his head.

“I love ya, Megs, I love you.” Toji tells him.

Megumi’s eyes begin to vibrate, unsure of where to look. He clears his throat and decides to close his eyes to prevent any tears from spilling over, he allows himself to be held by his father, embracing the warmth of his body.

“T-Thanks, dad.”

You’ve been locked in Toji’s room almost all day, only leaving for a trip to the bathroom. It’s been nice to spend some time with yourself. Playing your favourite music and doodling in your sketchbook. You have some solid plans sketched out, and part of you is excited to go to class again and start painting.

“O’Keeffe?” Megumi speaks after a quiet knock on the door, but you don’t hear. Your music is playing full blast in your ears and the only thing on your mind is your art. He assumes you don’t want to be disturbed; but his curiosity gets the better of him.

You still don’t notice him when the door begins to open, due to your back facing it. He can hear your music playing now; and it makes sense why you hadn’t told him to go away. His conscience is chiming in, telling him to turn around and leave you alone.

But that isn’t Megumi’s style.

Instead, he throws a piece of gum over your head and on the mattress in front of you. It startles you, and you pick it up to examine it. And when you turn around and see him standing in the doorway, he can’t help but snicker at the sight of you jumping.

“What do you want?” you ask him, pausing your music.

“I came to say sorry, again, I wasn’t thinking straight.” he tells you. His eyes almost glitter and his cheeks redden as he awaits your response.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay. I’m busy right now so… leave, please.”

His head tilts and he can see a little bit of the sketch in your hand. “Can I see?” he wonders. You quickly close the book and tuck it under your pillow. “Okay, sorry, I get it.” he nods.

“Megumi… I’m tired. You are draining me. Is there anything else you wanted to say?” you ask him again. He shakes his head. “Okay then. Goodnight, Megumi.” you stand up, hoping to incentivise him to walk away. But he stays put, holding the door against the wall so that you can’t close it.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go somewhere… with me.” he tells you, and it knocks you slightly. You’re taken aback, unable to move an inch. All you can do is stare at him.

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

“You can’t drive, it’s late… were you going to ask your dad to drop us off somewhere and pick us up later?” you query. It comes out meaner than intended, and you can tell the comment has annoyed him from the way his jaw is clenching. But you’re surprised that he manages to hold his tongue.

“No.” he pulls a joint from behind his ear. “I was thinking we could go for a walk and smoke.” he informs you.

“You know I don’t do drugs; I’ve never smoked before.” you remind him. “And I don’t think it’s a good idea to walk around with that in public… it reeks… I can smell it from here.”

He sighs, but isn’t afraid to keep eye contact with you. “Is the issue smoking? Or going outside?”

“You’re the issue, Megumi.” you tell him sternly. “You know what happened last time, I don’t want to do that again.”

“Tsumiki doesn’t like it when I smoke in the house, but she’s asleep and we can open a window… weed always makes me feel creative. We can draw together, if you like. It was fun when we were colouring on the bus.” he smiles, thinking fondly of the memory.

You can’t help yourself from smiling, too. “Yeah… it was fun.” you nod, agreeing. “Fine, hurry up before your dad hears you. Don’t make me regret this.” you whisper to him. You don’t notice it, but the subtle change in his expression is Megumi doing his best to contain his excitement.

Before he returns, you quickly throw one of your boyfriend’s hoodies on over your pyjama shirt. Not that you looked particularly provocative, you just want to make sure you don’t give him the wrong idea.

He returns, his sketchbook in hand and an additional three spliffs.

“Open the window and pick some good music.” he smirks.

Your back is against the wall, as well as the crown of your head. There is a glass ashtray in your hand, tilting between your crossed legs. Megumi keeps glancing at it, making sure he gives himself time to grab it in case you get ash all over Toji’s duvet.

“I feel like I’m better than everyone else right now.” you tell him, wistfully.

“Huh?” he smiles, “What do you mean?”

“You too, we’re both better than everyone else. Aren’t you feeling this?” you giggle, “I feel like we’ve done this thing, and we’re better now. Like… I feel like a higher being.” you tell him.

“Are you high?” he bursts out laughing, he begins to cough on the imaginary smoke in his throat.

A whine that turns into a whimper traverses through you. “I was supposed to be sketching!” you almost yell, earning a hush from Megumi, encouraging you to lower your volume. “I feel too tingly and tired to do anymore drawing.” you explain, adjusting your head so you can look into Megumi’s eyes.

“Tingly, huh?”

“Mhmm, tingly.” you pout.

He puts down his ashtray and leaves his joint inside of it, uncrossing his legs from his seat on the ground before standing up. His eyes resume observing yours as he gets closer and closer to you. Your heart is pounding, and you instinctively begin to close your eyes the nearer he is.

And there he is.

You can practically feel his nose touching yours. His breath on your lips. And you hope he can’t hear the way your heart is racing because of him. Your lips start to purse, and you can’t undo it because everything within you right now is screaming that you can’t. He’s going to kiss you again, and your mind doesn’t want that.

But your body does.

“Y-Yuu—”

You can’t say anymore, the end of a blunt between your lips and a clicking sound reigniting it.

“Breath in, O’Keeffe, don’t fall behind.” he smirks, watching as you do your best to obey him despite being so under the influence. With that cute smile on your face you’ve had all night, it makes you look like you’re on another planet. “Can I draw you?” he whispers, the vibrations of his voice rushing straight to your clit. And you gulp; you can’t help but gulp as you see the real depth of his intense stare.

“Okay.” you nod.

He helps you get the ashtray comfortably on your thigh so you don’t have to think about it anymore. Megumi’s hand takes one of yours so that you can hold the blunt on your own. You feel the breeze of him moving away from you as he moves quite quickly. You’re so worked up; you can feel your heart still pounding and you begin to worry that something is very wrong.

“M-Megumi? My heart hurts.” you tell him, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“Guess how many girls I’ve sketched.” he demands, barely looking at you before scribbling in his book again.

“W-Wha? Um… uhh… two hundred?” you wonder.

“Tch,” he chuckles. “You think I know two hundred people? Let alone two hundred girls.” he tells you, giving you the slightest hint.

“Half of that?” you furrow your brows.

“Less, O’Keeffe, way less.”

“Don’t tell me… ‘I’m your first?’” you put on a brooding, disgruntled Megumi impression as you ask him the question. His nostrils flare, with an almost unperceivable smile. But again, he shakes his head. “Fine, you win, I give up.” you sigh, a little peeved that you couldn’t figure it out.

“You’re my second.” he smirks as he does an impression of your impression. He turns the sketchbook so that you can see his quick drawing. It’s rough, really rough, barely even looking like you at all. It could be any girl in the world with the addition of some devil horns coming out of your forehead.

“You’re such a dick.” you can’t help but laugh at the poor drawing. “Will you draw me, for real?” you ask, and he nods. You can’t stop yourself from smiling, again. Realising he was trying to distract you from thinking there was something wrong with your heart. Just your mind playing tricks on you.

He changes his seating position as he finds a more optimal way to draw you.

“Megumi?”

“Mhmm?”

“I did have phone sex with Yuuji.” why the fuck did you say that? This is the longest time you’ve managed to spend alone with him without arguing or hooking up. You close your eyes, hoping somehow that will make it so he didn’t hear what you said.

He did hear, obviously, each word felt like a pinprick against his skin. But he didn’t let it deter him from sketching. Holding the façade that it doesn’t bother him. He’s never liked sketching women. He never truly learnt how.

He thinks they can’t stay still for long enough.

“Why are you telling me about that, O’Keeffe?”

“Do you hate me, again?” you pout, opening your eyes.

“No, I don’t hate you.”

“I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t? Doesn’t what I just said make you hate me?” you ask, genuinely curious as to what he will say. It doesn’t sound right; it doesn’t sound like the Megumi you’ve come to know. Especially after how furious he was when he suspected it before.

“Why do you care if I hate what you do with your boyfriend in your personal life, O’Keeffe?”

His question stumps you and you have no idea what to say. Is there a reason? There’s something deep down that’s screaming at you that there is. But you can’t acknowledge it, not really. You can’t begin to let yourself believe what you’re feeling deep down. There has to be another reason. There needs to be something else that you can say.

“Well… I need to know what about me makes you so angry. What things I say might make you hate me.” you tell him, your head lolling a little as you let yourself relax.

“I’m just a bully, O’Keeffe, mean ol’ Megs. Right?” he grins, still sketching. You don’t answer him, unsure of what to say. All you can do is stare and wait until he decides to continue. “Keep your head up f’me, princess.” he demands, and you respond perfectly for him. “Me being a dick to you isn’t… your fault. It’s mine.” he tries to assure you, though you aren’t sure if you believe him.

“Are we friends? Will we ever be friends?” you question him.

“You want to be friends with me?”

“That’s all I ever wanted, from the very start.” you try to remind him. “Knowing that you and Yuuji were best friends made me want to be friends with you. I tried to be kind to you, and you were just…”

“I know.”

You have no idea how angry he is. With you. With himself. But mostly Yuuji Itadori. His own heart is thumping, now, knowing the hatred he feels is down to plain simple jealousy. He can’t stop thinking about his night out with Gojo. He can’t actually believe he told Satoru that he loves you.

Maybe he just likes you a lot, as a friend.

It’s not like he’s in love with you.

You can love your friends, right?

“I’d like to be friends, Megumi… I like being around you when you’re like this. A-And on the trip, you bought me my plushie… you were so sweet to me at times.” you tell him, each word you speak laced with longing. It’s emotional enough to make your eyes leak, a detail he wastes no time in drawing onto your portrait.

“Let’s be friends, then.”

The sky is black and so is the room that you’re in. Neither of you have the energy to turn on a light, and it would only attract the insects from outside in here anyway. The music stopped a while ago. There are only two sounds filling the room right now.

Your breathing.

Megumi’s breathing.

“I’m cold.” you confess. “I think I’m gonna sleep now…”

Megumi doesn’t say a word, instead, his breathing becomes heavier for a beat. Like he’s trying to inhale a feeling of vigour so he can leave you in peace. But he can’t. He begins rubbing his eyes and making them even heavier than they already were.

“You can’t stay here, Megumi, you have to go to your own room.” you whisper, fluffing your pillow before resting your cheek down onto it.

“I know.”

“I don’t want your dad to find you in here and—”

“I know, O’Keeffe.” he grunts, picking up his things and resting them in his lap as he tries once again to summon the energy to stand up. “I’m fucking exhausted.” he groans.

“Me too…” you agree. “Can… Can I see?”

“The drawing?”

“Y-Yeah… before you leave.”

And suddenly, a wave of stamina courses through him. The strength to stand enters him and soon enough he’s turning on the bedroom light.

“Megumi, the bugs will come in…”

“I’ll kill them for you.”

He sits beside you on the bed, flipping slowly through the pages of his book. There are so many drawings and paintings of his dad. You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye, but you rest your head on his shoulder as he turns over each and every page. He really is so ridiculously talented. And you can see how much he loves his dad from all of this artwork alone. Toji is his muse, you suppose. Each and every piece is so eerily beautiful but also… sad.

“Has Toji seen these?” you speak softly. He just shakes his head. Your question makes him flip through the pages faster. You feel sad, sad that he doesn’t want to open up and guilty for hitting a nerve with him. “You should show him.”

“He doesn’t like art.”

“But he loves you. And he loves himself.” you giggle, “I think you should show him.”

He smiles at your joke but doesn’t answer you with words. Instead, he keeps going through the book until he finds your portrait with the horns that took him a few minutes. It makes you laugh again, and he can’t help but laugh too when you call him a dick for the millionth time.

He turns the page once more, showing you the sketch that he spent the entire night on.

“Sorry it’s… I don’t know. I’m not used to feminine faces.” he tells you modestly.

Your eyes begin to shimmer as you look at it. He is majorly downplaying how amazing this sketch is. It’s so detailed. So realistic.

It’s so you.

“Is this how I look to you? W-When I cry?” you can’t help but look at him now. Forcing his face to turn and face you while you look into his eyes. “You’ve made me look beautiful, Megumi. Really beautiful.”

“That’s… that’s just how you looked in the moment. I just drew what I saw.” he can’t hold eye contact with you. An overwhelming sense of shame and embarrassment rising from his toes to the tips of his ears. He can only pray that he doesn’t blush again, it’s so fucking humiliating how bashful he’s been around you lately. “It’s no big deal, keep it if you want.”

“Megumi…” you sigh, looking out of the window and then at the light switch in the room. “Can you shut off the light, please?” you request.

He grins, finally standing up to actually leave the room. “Goodnight, O’Keeffe.” he tells you quietly after turning the light off. The room is plunged into silence and darkness again. And he’s sure that he can genuinely hear how hard your heart is pounding.

“S-Stay.” your voice squeaks. “Stay here, with me.”

Megumi is frozen for what feels like a lifetime. All he can see in the darkness is your silhouette. The way you’re sitting upright and resting your body weight on one arm as you are assumedly staring at him. Waiting patiently for him to come to you and be with you.

“For how long?” he gruffly speaks.

“All night.”

“What about Toji?”

“I— we’ll wake up early so you can sneak back to your room.” you suggest. It hurts, a little. Thinking that you’re ashamed of him and you don’t want his dad to know. But the reality is that it makes perfect sense. He’d probably give you both an earful. He’d get the wrong idea. Jump to conclusions that aren’t even there.

He doesn’t say another word as he approaches you. Megumi sits next to you again; and even in the dark you can see the glittering of his emerald eyes.

“Come here.” he instructs as he gets into a comfier position. His head resting comfortably in the pillows as he lies flat on his back. He welcomes you into his arms, your head settling on his chest. You can hear his heart.

It’s electric.

Neither of you say anything, nothing of value, anyway. Both of you have your eyes closed. All either of you can hear is the sounds of life outside of the window, your breathing, and your hearts.

“Why did you tell me about you and Yuuji?” his voice sounding close to a hum as he plays with your hair. He needs to know why you brought it up. He needs to know why you wanted him to know, the real reason.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

“No… ‘m not lying, Megumi. I— maybe I just wanted you to know how much I love Yuuji. How serious we are. How much I miss him.” you answer wistfully, you feel his body tense under you and it makes you panic. “F-Friends talk about this kind of stuff.” you inform him.

“About their sex life, you mean?”

“Mhmm…” you nod against his chest. “But we haven’t been friends for long, have we? Maybe that kind of conversation is something we should build up to.”

“Do you want to tell me about your sex life with Itadori? What you did on the phone? Would you like me to tell you about other girls I’ve fucked?” he asks all of these questions incredibly calmly. It’s a little worrying, you’ve never known him to be as relaxed as this before. It’s weird. Because the words he’s saying seem like they should be sarcastic. But the way he’s saying them… it’s like he truly wants to know.

“Do you want to know about it?” is all you can think to ask him. He isn’t sure. The idea of you being so in love with Yuuji that you had phone sex to quench your thirst is pissing him off immeasurably. And yet, he can’t deny how much he needs to know the details.

What gets you off?

“Yes.”

“It was… romantic. He asked to see my whole body… ‘n he asked me to use my toys.” you start.

“You have toys?”

“Yes.”

“Did you bring them here?” he wonders, excitedly.

“No.” you shake your head.

“What toys did he ask you to use?” he decides to be his final question, and he is met with nothing but annoyance when you hide your face in his chest and begin to giggle shyly. “Tell me, O’Keeffe.” he demands.

“A dildo… a-and a vibrator.” you admit. The idea of seeing you splayed out on your bed as you fuck yourself makes his cock twitch. He can’t think about it anymore or he’ll lose his mind. But he can’t help it. He can’t get it out of his fucking mind. He already knows how unbelievable you look as you cum. He can only imagine the difference with a multitude of toys pleasuring you.

“Okay.” he practically chokes out. “Let’s… we should sleep now.” he closes his eyes again, unable to stop himself from playing with your hair.

“A-Are you hard?” you ask him. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. Your hand is splayed across his chest, his heart is battering against it. He does all he can to keep himself composed as the sensation of your fingertips gliding down his body drives him to the brink of insanity. And the little gasp you emit as your hand finds his cock. When you feel how fucking hard you’ve made him. “Because of me?” you finish questioning.

“Yes.” he replies, bluntly.

“I’m wet…” you mutter. His ears prick and his eyes shoot open as he looks down at your head on his chest. Did he hear you right? You aren’t saying anything else. It’s definitely possible he could have misheard you. But it definitely sounded like he heard you correctly. “Thought you were going to kiss me earlier… and I got wet.”

His snickers, chuckling quietly to himself as he thinks back to earlier. He knew he’d riled you up. He knew exactly what he was doing, but he hadn’t expected you to confess it to him so confidently.

“Princess… can I touch you?” he asks, no trace of a whisper in his voice. He speaks proudly, but quietly as not to wake his family. “I wanna finger you.”

Your mind, again, is screaming no. But your body… your stupid worked up body is crying for his touch. You’re not even sure if you’re high anymore, you don’t think so. But you’re wriggling around, and it isn’t subtle enough for Megumi to ignore how riled up you are for him. You can’t do this again, can you? You can’t cheat on Yuuji again. You’ve already done this with Megumi. And you kissed his fucking dad last night. You need to stop.

This time you need to stop.

“Yes.” you whisper, your heartbeat echoing off the walls in the room and into both of your ears.

You’re staring at each other like you’re mythical beings. Are you really here? Is this really going to happen a second time? If you do this, you know there’s no going back. Yuuji is kind-hearted enough that he might forgive only one indiscretion. But there’s no fucking way he can get over two of them.

“I need you.” you confess, a trembling breath carries your voice to him, and you can’t stop looking at each other’s eyes.

Your lips.

And he can’t help but to succumb. His lips crash against yours as soon as he registers your willingness. You hook a leg over his hip, immediately grinding yourself into his thigh as his lips travel to your neck.

And he sucks.

He sucks between shaky moans, his breath drying where his mouth had dampened.

“Fuck,” he pants, “I need you, I need to fuck you.” he admits, still aiming to bruise your neck to sign his name. And you can’t help but to let him.

“C-Can’t, you can’t.” you tell him. There is a small, ignorant part of you that thinks you and Yuuji can move past this. But to go all the way and sleep with Megumi? That is the ultimate red line.

“I know.” he responds. Because he does know. He knows what you’re thinking, and he hates that you might be right. Even after this, all of this, he still might forgive you. “I just wanna finger you.”

You nod again, looking up above at his lustful face. His body feels scorching in comparison to yours. You’re still cold, afraid maybe. Scared of what this momentary submission to temptation will lead to.

But you spread your legs for him like a whore.

But to him, they’re spreading like an angel’s wings.

He’s seen you before. Your bare-naked self. And it’s so beautiful. So wonderful. What resides at the apex of gorgeous, silky legs is your vulnerable petalled flesh. He feels it under his thumb, beneath your cotton sleep shorts.

“Your shorts are so thin… your pretty pussy drenched ‘em.” he coos, kissing the shell of your ear. And you mewl for him like the perfect girl you are.

His thumb slowly circles your cotton-clad clit. It’s so slippery and swollen.

“M-Megumi, kiss me.” you plead. He responds favourably, bending down to kiss you as he carries on teasing your clit. He loves the way you moan into his mouth when you kiss. Even when you pull away to moan with your lips barely touching. He thinks every time you do it you add another century to his life span.

“You’re such a good girl. My perfect fuckin’ girl.” he praises you, kissing down your neck and between your chest. You feel him move your shorts into the crease of your thigh, but he hasn’t attempted to touch your slick folds.

A sharp gasp leaves you as you feel him kiss your clit. Your legs quickly shut, clamping around his head.

“Open your fucking legs right now.” he demands, twinkling jade eyes staring up at you. And you do as he says, once again, slowly opening your legs for him as your body breaks out into goosebumps. He pushes two fingers inside of you with ease, your drooling cunt making it easier. His thumb returns to massaging your swollen clit.

“I— I wanna cum.” you lie. It feels amazing, and you’re sure it won’t take you long. But hearing him talk down to you like that has made you discover something you didn’t know about yourself.

“Already?” he questions, sounding disgruntled. “This slutty little cunt wants to cum f’me already?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Knew you were a slut. Guessed it the second I saw you.” he reminds you of the first day you met. He’s telling the truth, he really has thought that about you since then.

He picks you up like you’re weightless. He’s sitting on his knees and he positions you so that you’re straddling his thighs. He pulls your silk top apart so hard the buttons scatter across the wood floor. Not a single second is wasted, once your chest is revealed to him he fixates his eyes on yours as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

The way you throw your head back is involuntary. His fingers are still pummelling your insides in the best way possible. His thumb is massaging your clit just right and now he’s suckling your tits perfectly. You really are gonna cum.

You fucking are.

“Megumi—!” your voice cracks, you’re breathless as you look down at him. He doesn’t let up on your tits until you start clenching around him. His neck cranes back so that he’s looking up at you, and you kiss him as best you can. Moaning against him as you ride his fingers until you’re shuddering against him.

“Fuck… You are so—”

“Can I blow you?” you are practically fluttering your lashes in hopes he’ll say yes. He wasn’t sure what he was about to say. Something embarrassing, probably, he’s thankful you interrupted.

He’s shocked, stunned, even. He hadn’t expected you to be the type to enjoy giving head. Truthfully, he expected you to be nothing more than a pillow princess he could easily influence.

“I don’t do it much; I think I’m good at it though.”

“Are you asking me to decide whether you’re a good little cock sucker, princess?” he patronisingly speaks. It makes your pussy throb to hear him talking to you like this. A little mean, but with the slightest praise to balance it out. You hadn’t realised how much you liked being degraded. Is that why you keep forgiving him every time he picks on you?

“Yes.” you nod, kissing him again.

“Off the bed, on your knees.” he breaks the kiss to tell you. “Now.”

He leans over to grab a pillow as you slide off the bed and onto the ground. The wood flooring feels awful on your knees, but you soon understand that’s what the pillow is for. He drops it between his feet and instructs you to rest your knees on it.

“Will you kiss me?” you meekly ask, and it’s so pathetic. How desperate you sound and how shy you are about it. Just fucking kiss him if you want to kiss him, don’t ask. Don’t give him the satisfaction of turning you into his quiet little door mat.

“So fuckin’ needy.” he chuckles and makes out with you messily. His tongue begins exploring the inside of your mouth, and you’re a puddle at his feet. He’s so fucking sexy it’s driving you insane. You still can’t believe how ripped he is as he throws his t-shirt to one side. He grabs a fistful of your hair and forces you to kiss him again, and you’re more than happy to.

He pulls down his sweats just enough to free his cock, still kissing you as he jerks himself off. You want to please him, desperately. But his fingers are laced through your hair to keep you in place as you struggle to breathe between sloppy kisses.

However he grants your wish, yanking you away from him and pushing your head towards his length.

“Suck.” he orders.

Your jaw drops for him as you let him slot himself inside of your welcoming mouth. Immediately you begin to gag, unable to cope with his monstrous length and the way he’s pushing your head onto it.

“Thought you said you were good at this? C’mon, you can do better f’me. Suck like a good girl, breathe through your nose.” he patronises you. His sultry voice rushes straight to your cunt, and your willingness to obey overcomes you as you begin to breathe heavily through your noise. “Thaaaat’s it, fuckin’ perfect, baby.” he praises you.

Perfect? Really?

You aren’t so sure, but hearing Megumi say it encourages you to live up to his expectation. It’s in this very moment you realise how much you’ve let yourself go. Usually painted nails are now stress bitten and stubby. You’re glad the lights are out so that he can’t see them. Something is telling you that he’d be disappointed with how your hand looks as you wrap your hands around his cock, twisting them while you lick and suck his blushing tip.

“F-Fuck, jus’ like that baby. Such a good slut f’me…” he moans, his breath shaking. You can feel his body tensing beneath you, his fingers tugging your hair at the roots. “Pretty little cocksucker, aren’tcha?”

“Mhmmpf…” you answer him as best you can as he fills your mouth. He’s leaking uncontrollably, the tangy taste overwhelming your tongue.

You can’t get enough.

You do all you can do give him the best head of his life. Bobbing your head quickly and gripping his cock just harshly enough to drain him of his pre. He practically yells when you lick it up, your tongue swiping over his slit. He grits his teeth and hisses as you lick up and down the underside. His eyes almost roll out of his head when you alternate between sucking each of his balls while jerking him off with the perfect grip.

“Shit, baby, ‘m gonna cum. I’m f-fucking—”

You giggle as you take him back into your mouth, doing your best to take him as far down your throat as you can. He moans loudly, biting his lip to stop himself from waking anyone as his seed spurts down your throat. You moan, too, as the taste of him floods your senses. But like the good girl you are, you swallow every single drop.

He pulls you up from the ground once he’s completely finished, letting you straddle him again. His arms fully wrap around your back and he kisses you deeply, allowing himself to lie back on the bed as you do.

“M-Most guys don’t like kissing after head.” you whisper. He silences you with another kiss.

“I’m not a fuckin’ pussy,” he tells you, kissing you again. “You did so fucking good, princess, course I want to kiss you.”

He tickles your back delicately as he holds you, still kissing you the whole time.

You don’t even remember falling asleep.

But you did, together. You’re still in Megumi’s arms as the daylight breaking into the room starts to wake you up. And once you begin to stir, he starts to wake up too. He kisses your exposed shoulder, and then your neck again, admiring the deep purple bruise that’s etched into your skin.

“Good morning.” he mumbles against your pulse point.

You giggle, “Good morning, Megumi.” you begin to squirm as he lets his hand wander to your protruding, exposed nipple. He can’t decide where to touch you, his fingers roaming your entire body as he leaves soft kisses on your shoulder.

“W-We can’t,” you laugh a little, “We have classes.” you remind him.

“Don’t care, we have time.” he mutters. You try to object, but can’t as his touches become more and more arousing. You’re losing yourself to him again. And for whatever reason, you can’t find it in yourself to care. “Turn onto your stomach and lift your ass a little for me.” he tells you. He gives you the space to do what he asked.

“F-Fuck,” you gasp as he slots a single finger inside of you again.

“Still so wet.” he teases you. He pushes your shirt upwards so he can kiss along your spine while he fingers you.

You’re moaning into the pillow, unable to control yourself so early in the morning.

“Megumi!”

You both freeze, paralysed by fear. What time is it?

You pick up your phone to check.

“We forgot to set a fucking alarm!” you tell him, completely panic stricken.

You hear the sound of Toji opening Megumi’s bedroom door, assuming he’s sleeping in. But not long after it slams again, the two of you begin to scramble.

“Pillow! Pillow!” he whisper shouts at you. You throw one to him. “Pretend you’re asleep!” he commands. You tuck yourself beneath the duvet to hide your body. There is not a single reasonable explanation to tell Toji about why you’re practically naked whilst in the same room with his delinquent son.

Megumi throws the pillow onto the ground and lies on the floor uncomfortably to make it look like he dozed off there.

And the door swings open.

Your heart is pounding, adrenaline through the roof and into space as you can feel Toji’s presence in the doorway. You can hear the sound of his nostrils sniffing. And you can only hope to whoever is listening that he isn’t picking up on the all too recognisable smell of sex. But he looks down at Megumi, unable to believe that you have both managed to spend extended time in a room together without screaming.

“What the fuck, Megs?”

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original-character-championship · 1 year

Text

Bracket A Round 1

Poll 11

Amedeo Kenzie (@arcaneyouth) vs. Sister Virtue - Theophania (@sistervirtue)

Amadeo Kenzie

He/him or it/its

Amedeo is a fucked up lil guy who has so many problems disorders. He loves love so much but never learned how love works so most people find him to be incredibly annoying! He's manipulated into hurting his friends by someone who told him she would help him with his friendship problems, but it only drove them away more, so much that he snapped and physically hurt some of them. So they left him. This made him useless to the person manipulating him, so she turned him into a demon, a mindless creature, and made him kill. He got better tho. He still has many problems disorders but he's getting therapy about it and is so sweet and kind now. I think he should win because he gives me massive gender envy and he's just like me fr fr. He's stupid as hell, he's slutty, he has committed atrocities, he gets beat up by a 7 year old, he's pathetic, he is a catboy, he's lovecore, he's my babygirl, he has a satisfying redemption arc but still he remains silly, every time people ask me about him I am typing for 2 hours, what else do you want

Sister Virtue - Theophania

she/her

She's a fallen angel who committed the ultimate blasphemy out of a deep love for all of humanity and who just wants to protect them but is also a smokin' truckin' fuckin' freak who fixes cars and uses Dr Bronners' 18-in-1. She's a milf she's an uncle she's a nun and most importantly she's an inverted Christ allegory. A nun who isn't rally a nun at all, with black hair that will perpetually suffer from looking like she cut it herself, one eye with eye bags for two, and a gauntness that makes her all angles. She's got a lined face and pale skin that discolors unevenly from all her time in the sun when she's not in uniform. Her fingernails are made of gold but the rest of her is just fleshy enough.

#oc championship #bracket a #round 1 #tournament poll #21 Amadeo Kenzie #22 Sister Virtue - Theophania

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yacinthemorning · 2 months

Text

Birdsongs

Chapter 6

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Summary: The Life Pilgrimage is the biggest music festival of the century, set to take place all across the continent. Small-time rock band, GIST, and the up-and-coming alternative band, Empire, are both lucky to be among the hundreds set to make appearances, but there's just one problem. Neither can afford the travel expenses on their own. For better or worse, they're stuck with each other for the next five weeks as they try to make their dreams come true.

And, perhaps, among the chaos and music, two unsuspecting souls find one another...

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (slow burn romantic), Joel/Lizzie (romantic), Jimmy & Scott (platonic)

Warnings: Alcohol, drugs, peer pressure, mild homophobia, bar fight, life crisis, anxiety, dancing

It was just after seven that they all walked down to The Mineshaft Pub, the favoured locale for dancing according to a woman in town. The decor was western, with the walls covered in historical pictures of the old miners that used to frequent it. Not the place to find anything fancier than a rum and coke.

It was surprisingly packed for a week night, though half the patrons were vaguely familiar. The second they entered the bar there was a shout in their direction, and Scott’s face lit up. A large woman pushed through the crowd, a lanky man on her tail, in neon everything like they expected a rave rather than Tim McGraw. “Scott, dear! You made it!”

“Cleo! Joe! I thought we were ahead of you.” He laughed, happily accepting a hug which quickly continued on to Pearl. Scott vaguely turned to the rest of them. “This is my band. Lizzie, Joel, Jimmy, this is Cleo and Joe from HHH.”

“And those are my guys,” Pearl threw her thumb over her shoulder to the rest, “Gem, Impulse, Skizz, and Tango.”

“A Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Joe bowed like he was in a medieval court, which contrasted greatly with his thick southern accent. Gem giggled. “I didn’t happen to catch your bands playing a the last venue, but I hope fate is kinder to us at the next.”

“I think I heard a bit of you guys!” Intruded Skizz, pushing past Scott in his excitement. “You guys have crazy range, real interesting mix of folk and disco you got going! Especially with your poetry.”

It sounded like a horrendous mash-up to Jimmy, not even able to picture how it came together in his mind. Until he heard it himself, he’d just have to trust the event organizers’ tastes. The three groups exchanged a few more pleasantries, Scott and Pearl slowly drifting to Cleo’s side. Then, both were being beckoned away with promise of free food and dancing. “Watch your drinking, Jim. You know how you get.” Scott called before they disappeared into the crowd.

Jimmy huffed. Well, that was two less people to pay for, at least. Fwhip shrugged, and waved down a waitress as they found a pair of tables, “We’ll see them later. For now, lets get some wings and beer.”

“I think I’ll just have a coke.” Jimmy murmured while he slipped his guitar onto the back of his chair. He read through the tiny menu, only for it to be snatched away from him. “Hey!”

“Nuh-uh. C’mon, Jim, you’re a big boy now. We ain’t smokin’, it’s just a drink.” His manager insisted, ordering full pitchers of whatever beer was on tap for the whole table immediately along with the wings platter. “Joel can be our good little sober boy today.”

The man’s head shot up off the table immediately, “Uh, excuse me? I need at least two mugs of pisswater before I’m touching that dance floor, and Lizzie isn’t gonna let me not dance.”

“It’s fine, Fwhip, really.” Jimmy tried to insist. Some of GIST were looking at their table with concern. Tango’s brow knit behind his bright red sunglasses. He could feel his ears get hot, shrinking in on himself. “I’d rather do it then risk no one.”

Fwhip wasn’t going to take no for an answer, though. Not tonight. “You’re only saying that cause you’re still embarrassed about how you acted at Sausage Fest after downing those seven mojitos.” He teased, and god were those memories Jimmy would rather forget.

A mug slammed down in front of him, and the biggest pitcher Jimmy had ever seen saddled up beside it, Fwhip’s shit-eating grin distorted through the ruddy liquid. Jimmy glared right back, but eventually he gave in. If only to stop a scene. “Just one glass.”

“Hell yeah!” Fwhip cheered, stealing the pitcher away to fill all their glasses before holding his own up in cheer. “Grown ups table only today, men- and lady,” He winked at Lizzie, who stuck her tongue out. “Here’s to that amazing performance, and all the amazing performances to come!” Their glasses clinked, separating for Joel and Fwhip to almost instantly chug half their glasses. Lizzie took a much more modest sip. Jimmy swirled the glass for a moment, bringing it to his lips when Fwhip and Joel put their glasses down. He’s not sure he got more than a taste of the foam, but he pulled the same sour face the rest of his band did.

“I didn’t mean literal pisswater, jeez.” Joel coughed, but took another swig anyways. It certainly smelled bad enough to be true. There was probably nothing fruity on the menu to mask the alcohol in a bar like this.

Skizz held up his glass, shouting over almost the whole bar, “That’s the taste of freedom, my friend!”

“From what? Regulation?” Tango snickered.

“From modernity! Civility! Authority!”

Gem rolled her eyes. “Sooo, yes.”

“Hey! This is a sacred place of debauchery and hedonism! Feast upon the grapes of whatever and dance till the sun rises upon us! Let us make our great father Dionysus proud!”

Both tables clapped, GIST shaking their head in amusement. Wings soon arrived, though, and they all dug in. Jimmy nursed his drink at a snail’s pace, hoping Fwhip would simply think he was hungrier than he was thirsty. It got a bit more difficult when Lizzie dragged Joel to the dance floor when a song she like came on, dinner be damned.

There was a few minutes when a man, another band’s manager apparently, passed by, and Fwhip spun around to chatter with the man. Someone tapped on his shoulder at that moment. Jimmy spun around to see Tango holding out his mug, near empty except the foam slowly sliding to pool at the bottom. It took him a moment before he realized what was happening, and grabbed his own mug. The transfer was far from smooth, slopping onto the floor a bit. When Jimmy’s mug was mostly empty Tango pulled it back with a mischievous grin and a wink before bringing the mug up to his own lips. Jimmy returned it with the same smile and turned back to his table. Behind him, he heard Tango wretch. He tried not to laugh.

It was a little over an hour into the night. Most tables were cleared of real food, replaced with glasses of various substances, and the air had become thick despite the no smoking signs. Tango was having a lovely time shouting with his friends when one song ended and a mic came on. Gem shrieked with glee, “Oh my god, guys! Come one, come on!” She dragged Impulse out of his chair, abandoning their table for the dance floor while one of the bar tenders tried to get the place pumped up for a line dance.

They nearly crashed into Scott and Pearl, who were already rosy-cheeked and giggling nonstop alongside Cleo. The three were linked hand-in-hand, pushing to the front of the group at Pearl’s insistence. It’d been a while since Tango had seen her let go and have fun. Not that she wasn’t always a joy, but... Well. Tango was still convinced waking up at five am to work for a band that had never once taken the gig seriously was crazy people actions.

He knew in the grand scheme of things it was for her career. GIST was her first foray into management and they weren’t going to be around much longer. Pearl was destined to move on to bigger and brighter bands, and he had all the confidence in the world she would with how brilliant and hard working she was. He just wished she took the chance to let loose while she still could. And the fact Scott and this Cleo person were able to get her to was enough to put them in Tango’s good books.

Joel and Lizzie were at the far end where they were previously dancing alone, and Fwhip dragged Jimmy into line right behind GIST despite his protests of leaving his guitar alone. The bar tender was up on a small stage, and began demonstrating the moves. Half of them hadn’t realized they were starting already, causing gem and Skizz to smack into the other two. Eventually after many bumps and giggles the whole crowd was on the same page doing the cupid shuffle. Skizz was the first to wrap his arms around Tango and Gem’s shoulders, until all four were linked, at least until they were asked to turn. It switched up to the cha cha slide, at which point Tango lost all coordination, much to his band’s amusement and their neighbour’s bemusement.

By the end they were all cheering and out of breath, Impulse being the first to retreat back to their table, Fwhip not far behind. Skizz swept Gem back over to the dance floor where Lizzie was happily dragging around Joel. Cleo, Pearl, and Scott tried to navigate into the crowd but nearly fell into a cackling heap with how drunk they’d gotten, and chose to bow out for the time being. Tango was in the middle of contemplating whether to do the same when a bright eyed face invaded his vision.

“You’re not throwing in the towel already are you?” He said with amusement.

It was almost wrong, to see Jimmy sans guitar on his back. His face was flush, not drunk on alcohol but some sort of adrenaline. His hair had fallen out of how he’d had it styled, sticking slightly to his forehead and up where a hand had been run through it. The sweetest smile stretched across his face, a hint of mischief in his dark eyes. There was a stain on his cream button up, presumably from the hot wings, which Tango desperately wanted to point out just to say something instead of staring like a brainless goldfish. Before he could have the chance to say anything he was being pulled over to the centre of the dance floor.

“You know how to dance without instructions, I hope.” Jimmy laughed as they came to a halt.

Tango crashed right into him. Taking a moment for his brain to restart he put on the cockiest grin he could muster and confidently informed the men, “Pssh, I’ll have you know I’m an expert.”

“Oh yeah?” They’d began to sway with the crowd, nothing specific.

“In fact I’ve take a whole half a dance class before.” He did an awkward exaggerated jig for emphasis, which got a laugh.

“Oh, please tell me it was-”

“The tango? How’d you know?”

Jimmy cackle-cheered so hard he had to stop dancing for a moment to recover. When he calmed he reached out for Tango’s hands and they turned with the rest of the crowd, finally adding a few little cowboy steps to their swaying.

In truth, the sum total of Tango’s former dance experience mostly involved swaying cross-legged in the mud high out of his mind, headbanging in in a pit, and the macarena at a wedding. That hardly mattered now, especially when Jimmy just as uncoordinated. Whatever dance they were doing involved at lease one person’s foot on the others with each step and a lot of giggling. Tango was beginning to wonder if Jimmy had slipped away to grab his own drink at some point or inhaled a bit too much of the smoke, but his eyes were too focused for that. No, he really was just absolutely delighted to be moving around in the crowd, singing suspiciously well alongside Shania Twain. It was absolutely...

Well, Tango tried not to think too hard about what it was. Especially not when his gaze momentarily slipped away to avoid going blind and instead landed on Lizzie, who was giving him a knowing look. He couldn’t tell what emotion it was on her face, only able to presume she was still mad at him. A suggestion was on the tip of his tongue as the last stomping beat of Any Man of Mine played. Out of guilt or nerves. But he felt Jimmy back away with another airy sort of sound and he was dragged back in. He beamed, “Wanna go sit and grab a drink?”

They wound up at the bar rather than with their friends, where Jimmy could order a coke in peace while Tango could grab a nice whisky instead of more Molson. Jimmy was still giddy, his heel bouncing on the stool as he smiled down into his drink. He glanced over, though, to Tango’s glass. “Can I try?”

Tango slid it over, “S’bout as good as reasonably priced whisky gets.”

Jimmy rolled it a bit, took a sniff, then a sip. His nose wrinkled a bit before he passed it back. “Yeah think I’ll stick with mine.”

“Not for everyone.” Tango concedes.

“I just don’t like the taste much, or the feeling.” He brushes his chest, chewing on his lip and side eyeing Tango. “Just not...”

Ah. He shrugged, trying to act as casual as possible. “You don’t have to explain yourself, partner.”

“No, I guess I don’t. Not to you.” Jimmy smiled, then took a sip of his coke.

“So, you like to dance?” Tango said, approximately as smooth as a cactus made of sandpaper covered in barnacles.

Jimmy by some miracle didn’t notice, and lit up once more as he went on a tale of childhood fairs and forced square dancing lessons and learning that dancing could actually be fun after years of spiteful refusal to ever perform again. It devolved into another story, and another. The bar tender was happy to slip yet another glass in front of Tango after each one.

Their chatter was only interrupted by Joel, who practically screeched across the bar from the stage, calling for his ‘babe’ which was apparently not Lizzie. Jimmy laughed and screeched back, back to full energy, and darted away back to his table to grab his guitar. They quickly took over the bar’s attention as they both began wailing away with the song, Jimmy strumming scratchy notes on his guitar. Some shouted, some cheered. Tango watched with great amusement, entirely missing when the seat next to him became reoccupied.

“Having fun?”

Tango’s head spun around. Lizzie was staring into Jimmy’s empty glass. He cleared his throat and swivelled back around. “Think so. You?”

“Of course.”

An awkward silence befell them, a not very silent one given the screaming and music and thudding and clinking. It all sounded like a distant whisper right now.

Lizzie huffed, and looked up, “Look, Tango. I’m not sorry about earlier.”

“Oookay.” He quirked an eyebrow. He hadn’t thought she was, but it seemed rude to come and say to his face.

“I’m not.” She insisted looking frustrated. “But I guess I can’t exactly tell you to not speak to my brother when he’s the one speaking to you. So, I’ve decided to call truce.”

“Thanks? I think.”

The silence was back. Lizzie chose to ignore it this time, flagging down the bar tender to get her own drink. Tango continued to sip his own.

He cleared his throat. “I liked your set.” Wow, way to go. Might as well call myself a climate-denyer with all this ice I’m not breaking.

That of all things got her undivided and startled attention. “Really?”

“I mean, yeah. You guys got some serious talent. I don’t think I saw anyone with as much range.”

“Well, I’m glad.” She said, stuck between wanting to be mad and soaking in the praise. “I’ve been working for this almost my whole life, you know. Since I was eight.”

Tango whistled, genuinely impressed. “Ain’t that the sorta dedication and ambition we all wished we had. Definitely shows. You’ll have to show me how you did that one bit in... What was it called? The one that was all-” He squinted in frustration, drawing shapes in the air to hopelessly illustrate his point.

Lizzie blinked, then clapped happily, “Oh! Destiny?” She beamed, and that was the first time Tango had been sure she and Jimmy were siblings. “Yes, well, it only really works with my keyboard specifically...” She descended into a rant, explaining what she had done with modes and foot pedals, completely forgetting to actually tell Tango what model she used in the first place. He could ask later. For now he nodded along, making mental notes. Now and then he asked questions, the conversation on the brink but never quite fully petering out to chase away the awkward silence. Tango wasn’t even sure it would still be there if it ended, but he much preferred happy Lizzie elaborating on how she played the keyboard over grumpy Lizzie ready to punch him in the throat.

Jimmy’s voice carried over the crowd, who roared to life as he started singing along with Dolly Parton. Tango took the briefest moment to watch, smiling to himself.

“Suppose...” Lizzie began, the words dying momentarily before she took in a new breath. “Suppose I was wrong.”

“About?” Tango tilted his head in confusion.

“Someone Jimmy met.” Her gaze was permanently fixed on her drink, obscuring whatever complicated emotions were passing over her face. “Suppose I was distracted with my own relationships and dreams. Suppose I was bias cause I knew them, and too young and stupid to notice it just wasn’t right for him until I had to forever hold my peace.” Fingers tightened around her glass. Tango worried it might shatter. “Suppose afterwards I had to help him unpack everything I helped him pack up before. Comforted him when he cried then go comfort the person who made him cry when they cried too, and couldn’t tell which was wrong, if either was. Suppose even after it was over it still wasn’t, and I couldn’t stop thinking it was for my sake it wasn’t.”

Her eyes were glossy when she timidly looked back up, threatening her perfectly done eyeliner. “Is there something wrong with trying to protect him from something like that happening again?”

And Tango couldn’t say no. He knew what it was like to be on both sides half a dozen times over. Maybe not the exact scenario she was alluding to, but ones similar enough. Hesitantly he reached out, and when she only shrugged he place his hands gently on her shoulder, giving her a comforting rub. “I think the only person who can answer that for you, is Jimmy.”

“And what am I supposed to do if he doesn’t want help?”

“I dunno, be there for him in other ways? You’re both adults, you’ll figure it out.” He snorted, his own bittersweet memories playing out in the back of his mind. Mostly of himself. “Some people just need to make their own mistakes to learn, even if you can tell them exactly what will happen if they do. It’s a lot better than feeling like you aren’t allowed to make mistakes at all, I can tell you that.”

“He’d make so many.” Her laugh was humourless. “And don’t think I don’t know what you stand to gain from this.”

Did he? Tango glanced over his shoulder to where Jimmy was, laughing and leaning over Joel as they belted along with the song. The guitarist paused, their eyes meeting, and an enormous grin stretched across his face as he waved to Tango. Tango waved back and turned away. He supposed he did. Was he just being biased? He hoped not. It was hard to think clearly through the buzz. “Well, you could always just beat the crap outta me. He can’t do much about that, can he?”

That got a real laugh, so he turned back to her. Her eyes were still wet, but there was determination there now. “Don’t think I won’t!”

“I ain’t gonna defend myself!” He threw up his hands in concession. “Seriously, though. Jimmy never has nothin’ but good things to say about you. I think he really admires you, y’know? Just my two cents. You should just talk to him yourself, can’t imagine he’ll be rude about it.”

“He wouldn’t.” She agreed, shaking her head. “It’s just hard to have some conversations with younger siblings. Hard to see them as grown up when it feels like they were shoving crayons up their nose just yesterday.”

That was where Tango’s expertise ended, as an only child, so he shrugged. “When I was a kid we just ate them.”

“Oh, that was Joel’s thing. I was the smart one, you see. The only one who knew to draw with them.” She turned up her nose, dramatically sweeping her bubblegum pink locks back.

“... Sooo, on the walls?”

“It was a big canvas!”

Their conversation was cut short by a crash and commotion in the crowd. It didn’t take much else than spotting the mop of teal poking a few inches above the rest of the crowd to send both racing over.

There was a shit-faced cowboy, oddly familiar but Tango wasn’t sure from where, in a soaked flannel, flanked by two similarly dressed friends. In front of him stood Scott stuck somewhere between ‘ready to fall over and puke’ and somehow still high and mighty sass. There was an upside down cup in his hand, barely held there by three fingers. Tango didn’t need to see the pool of ice on the floor to put the pieces together. Especially not with Pearl huddled behind him in Cleo’s arms as she too glared daggers into the strangers.

The rest of their group quickly showed up, Jimmy and Joel shoving their way through the opposite side of the forming circle while the rest appeared beside Tango and Lizzie. Gem’s eyes narrowed as she snarled, “It’s that creep!” It took all of them to hold her back from marching into the conflict.

A fist wrapped around the front of Scott’s shirt and dragged him down to eye level with the cowboy, “The fuck’s your problem?” He snapped. Behind him his buddies jeered.

It took Scott’s alcohol addled mind a visible moment to register what just happened. His nose wrinkled, turning his face away. “Not my fault you can’t take a hint. Or a shower.”

There was a chorus of laughs, mostly from his own bandmates and Gem. All except Lizzie, who was giving Jimmy and Joel a nervous frown. The two weren’t paying attention, looking far too amused by Scott’s antics. Joel whispered something into Jimmy’s ear and Tango could only guess it was another one of their bets.

The cowboy spluttered, entire face red at this point, and shoved Scott back. His glass crashed to the ground. “Ain’t none of your business sniffing me, fairy boy!”

Scott’s eyebrows went up. Behind him, Pearl tried to whisper something to him, but it went ignored. Then he laughed, throwing his hip dramatically and leaning in. “Flattery won’t get you on this dick, princess.”

Then his fist connected with the stranger’s jaw.

“Jesus Christ, Scott!” Pearl shrieked, her and Cleo dragging him back as the cowboy went down.

Completely chaos broke loose. Gem ran free with a battle cry and launched herself onto the back of one of the cowboys just before he swung for Scott, her brother not far behind. Others broke through the crowd, friends or just rowdy patrons. It took Scott only a moment to get back into the fight, Jimmy and Joel cheering the three on. Joe jumped up on the bar with the mic, attempting to implore the crowd to calm down, but someone snatched his ankle and he quickly went down. Skizz shouted, though it was so incoherent Tango wasn’t sure if it was for peace or war. A plate smashed against a post. Both Tango and Lizzie shrieked as they ducked behind Impulse.

“Oh- those-” Lizzie blabbered while the three backed out of the main conflict. Her eyes suddenly went wide. “Jimmy, Joel! No!”

Tango turned just in time to watch the blond slam his guitar case into a guy who’d latched onto Gem’s pigtails. It was swiftly retaliated with a kick to his gut. He dominoed into a small crowd, from which Joel slipped passed and decked the offending cowboy in Jimmy’s stead.

People began pouring out of the bar, some fleeing and others fighting. “You two grab your boys before they get their teeth knocked in.” Impulse directed. “I’ll find Pearl and we’ll grab the rest when it’s safe.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Tango cleared a path behind the main brawl, Lizzie close on his tail. By the time they reached Jimmy and Joel they sported matching dark bruises on their cheeks, and there was blood dripping from Jimmy’s nose. That’d been enough to get them to bow out, but not to back off as they egged on their bandmates. Lizzie wasn’t having any off it, grabbing the strap of Jimmy’s guitar and the scruff of Joel’s shirt. Tango squeaked as Jimmy was practically tossed into his arms. “Let’s go!” She shouted.

All four stumbled out into the cool night air. They didn’t stop moving, not until they were halfway down the street and wheezing. “Oh my gosh!” Jimmy gasped for his life while Joel doubled over beside him. There was still adrenaline pumping wildly through Tango’s whole body, giving him the shakes.

Lizzie took just a moment to lean against a stop sign before her face twisted with rage and marched over to the two, shoving her finger into each’s chest. “What’d the matter with you two?” She screeched. “You could have gotten killed or arrested or- or- Gyahh!”

“Never been to jail.” Jimmy mused, which was the wrong answer. Despite Lizzie berating, the two devolved into giggles and bolted on ahead towards the campsite.

Lizzie was absolutely furious, read to chase after them if not for Tango’s hand on her shoulder. “Let ‘em run it off, Jimmy’ll make sure they don’t get far.” He assured. Jimmy may be high on the excitement of it all, but he was still sober. Just as he thought so the man in question nearly face-planted into the gravel road, saved only by his guitar case hitting it first. Joel paused to laugh at him before dragging him back to his feet and running once more.

“you see what I deal with?” She said, shrill and throwing her hands out towards her husband and brother, before they flopped to her sides. Tango couldn’t hold back a small giggle. “Well at least they weren’t stupid enough to throw the first punch.”

They jumped at the sudden tone of Tango’s blackberry going off. It took the man a moment fiddling in his jeans’ pockets to find the thing, then nearly dropped it. A small reminder of his own numerous drinks that night. “Hello?” He answered. Lizzie leaned in.

“Tango! Are you guys okay?” Pearl’s frantic voice shouted over the sounds of a crowd. “We can’t see you, Impulse said-”

“We’re fine, Pearlie-pop, don’t worry.” Tango hastily assured, double checking that the other two hadn’t passed out on the road ahead or something. “Got out of there, heading back to the campsite right now.”

“Oh, thank god. Listen, everyone here’s mostly okay, but I think Scott, Joe, and Fwhip need a couple stitches. So Impulse is gonna bring Gem and Skizz back and steal the van from you to take us to the hospital.”

He nodded, smiling at Lizzie who visibly deflated with relief. “Roger dodger, boss-lady. We’ll get everyone tucked into bed, don’t you worry.”

The walk back was quiet, only a few bats and an owl filling the crisp night air. Tango had to pull out the flashlight on his keychain as they turned down the dirt path that took them directly to their end of the campsite. Despite their earlier stress they couldn’t help giggle as they found Joel passed out against the running kitchen sink, a sticky note stuck to his sleeping face telling them Jimmy went to see if the store was still open. Tango wished he stayed long enough for someone else to check out his nose, but he was ready to crash.

“Do you mind-?” Lizzie began, practically collapsing onto her bed after she dragged Joel over.

Tango smiled, “You go to sleep, I’ll wait for everyone.”

She nodded, that being all she needed to roll over and get comfy. There was a brief moment, in which Tango nearly left before she called out, “Tango?”

“Hm?” He leaned back inside.

There was a strained smile on her face, “I am sorry about earlier.”

He let out an airy noise, and waved her off. “Don’t be, I was an ass. Wish I had a big sister like you. He’s lucky.”

“I don’t think anyone would accuse Jimmy of being lucky. But thank you. It means a lot.”

“You just worry about getting some sleep for Hangover Road Trip Electric Boogaloo tomorrow.”

There was a groan of realization, which finally got her to nod and roll over.

Tango closed the door as quietly as possible, and sat down on the steps to wait. He hadn’t realized how out of it he was, not until there was some sort of strange sound that knocked him back into the world of the waking. When had he even nodded off in the first place? There was the sound once more, though. Tango stood up, eyebrow and flashlight raised. “Hello?”

There was a rustle from the other side of the trailer, and a screech. Jimmy’s head popped out from between the bushes they were pushed up against. He had leaves stuck in his hair, and the buse on his cheek had become yellow and purple. Another was forming on his chin along with a half dozen on his arms. But the blood from his nose was wiped away or dried and it didn’t seem to be broken. “Um, hi.”

“Jim? What are you doing?”

“Uh, nothing!” He squeaked, and stumbled out. The top of his case smacked against the back of his head, getting a wince from Tango. “Just got- got lost in the dark. The store was closed.”

“Closes at dinner time.” Tango pointed out.

Jimmy’s face went red, looking away. “Yeah... Sorry.” He eyed the trailer warily. “Is she mad?”

“Don’t think so.” Both moved to the picnic table. For once Tango thought he must look more tired than Jimmy. Something had torn open one of their chip bags while they were gone, the crumbs strewn about. Jimmy paused to wipe out towards the bushes, then plopped down with his arms slung over his guitar case.

“Do you wanna set up the tent?”

“Mmm, too much work now.” Tango would much prefer the air mattress to the table, but he was drunk and it was almost midnight.

There was a moment where Jimmy leaned back, puttering a three note beat against his case. “She yell at you? She said she was gonna go yell at you.”

A noise escaped Tango, too much of a reaction to deny it.

“Sorry for whatever she said. She likes playing big sister, all brave and smart. Forgets she fell from the same tree.”

“Nah, I ran my stupid mouth, I probably deserved it.” Tango shook his head, also leaning back.

There was a shift, and Tango felt the guitar bump his hand. “You know I was hanging out with Skizz today.”

“Yeah?”

“Made me think.” He hummed, not continuing until Tango nudged him back. “I know why we’re here. To make Lizzie and Scott famous. But... I don’t know why you guys are here.”

Tango blinked. He turned to look at the other man, who’s face darkened as he realized what he said. “Not like- I mean- Not that you don’t deserve it or anything-”

“No, I get what you mean.” He snorted, a bit lost in memories. Old ones from when they first met in college, new ones of Zed leaving and the girls joining. Promises they made to Pearl as they worked up professional contracts for the first time in their so-called career and sombre conversations between just him, Impulse and Skizz.

“You can’t say this to Gem.” Is all he asked, tone a bit desperate. Jimmy made a small noise, an agreement. Tango sighed. “Truth is, this is probably our last gig.”

Jimmy didn’t seem surprised.

“Dunno what we’re gonna do after this. Maybe we’ll make one last album, maybe we’ll leave how it is. Depends on how we feel I guess. Been living our whole lives doing this first and everything second. And not that I ain’t thankful for every minute of it, but, y’know. We ain’t rockstars. Got bills to pay and jobs to start taking seriously. Impy and Skizz do, at least. And if I can’t play with them I ain’t sure I wanna.”

He shifted his position, pulling his legs up to chest to rest his chin on them. “Honestly, we were thinking about it a few years back, after Zed left for his career. Then we met Gem, though, and- well, you met her. Shines like the sun. Something about her. She’s gonna be a star, we all knew it.” A smile sneaked onto his face, remembering the first time they heard her sing. “Never had big dreams like you guys, but we loved what we did and she loved playing with us. It was different, but it was like the good old days where it mattered. But life’s been catching up. I guess we just wanted to do one last big show together, something to remember. Y’know?”

It seemed like Jimmy did. At least, that’s what Tango hoped his sleepy smile meant.

Tango relaxed himself running a hand down his face to try and keep himself awake until their bandmates got back. “Told Pearl already, back when we signed her on. Don’t expect this too last too long. But we’re still trying to find a way to break it to Gem. Think she suspects it, but it’s still hard.”

“What about you?” Jimmy asked. Had he always been sitting that close, or had one of them scooched over in the breeze?

“Hm?”

“You said, Impulse and Skizz have plans. But what about you?”

There he was, a fish drowning in the sea. The question he’d not even realized he’d been avoiding. Imp and Skizz had full time jobs and family and homes, Gem and Pearl had their whole careers ahead of them, and he had- what? “That’s the question, ain’t it.” He murmured, suddenly feeling quite lost as he stared up at the night sky through the trees.

It wasn’t as though he’d taken their band any more serious than the rest of them, but somewhere along the way they’d all managed to build their own lives between the margins. Probably while he was passed out after playing roller coast tycoon all night or doing one of his other dozen going-nowhere hobbies.

A hesitant hand slipped onto his shoulder, massaging comfortingly. It brought Tango back down from wherever he was floating off to a lot easier than he’d ever like to admit. Jimmy didn’t bother to say anything. Not that he didn’t seem to want to. Nothing ever quite made it out until his mouth snapped back shut into a sympathetic smile. He didn’t have to. For once Tango thought he could understand. He really hoped it wouldn’t be the only time. It felt good.

Leaves ruffled and there was a loud, familiar whining. Both men stood up in time to watch Impulse drag Gem and Skizz under each arm into camp. “Almost there, guys.” He announced, shoulders falling as he spotted Tango and Jimmy.

They put the new pair to bed first against their whining and waved Impulse off. The little sleep demon in Tango’s mind screamed to finally get into bed. He heard Jimmy’s laugh when they both collapsed, creating a bounce back that shook the whole trailer and the pullout off the ground. “You’re makin’ breakfast, by the way.” Tango grumbled, already curling up against his cuddle buddy.

“Not fair!”

“Shh.”

Just as he drifted Tango heard a strange little whistle. Please birds, let me get at least a few hours of sleep, was his last thought as he drifted off.

#jimmy solidarity #tangotek #team rancher #rancher duo #solidaritek #trafficshipping #traffic series #hermitpires #mcyt #fanfiction #fanfic #modern au #hurt/comfort

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akxrra · 3 months

Text

❝ smokin' out the window. ❞

bruno mars, silk sonic.

────────────────────

synopsis: smoking with your loved one, in the dead of night. what more could anyone ask for? featured: rosaria, fade x fem!reader contains: 2nd pov, smoking, established relationship (rosaria), hurt w/ comfort if you squint (fade), not proofread links: masterlist | introductory post and rules a/n: i love them both

★

"what are you doing here?"

you always knew of rosaria's errands every night. your girlfriend would sneak out of the house late at night, and your curiosity would make you follow her as discreetly as possible. out of fear, you'd never tell the cold nun that you caught her 'cleaning' up monstadt, but you felt bold this night.

"sorry," you reply, a sheepish smile on your face. "i just... wanted to be with you."

rosaria stays silent for a moment, the cigarette in between her index and middle finger letting out its smoke. she's dumbfounded—scared, even. scared that you'll run away at the sight of her bloodstained cheek and dagger.

until you walk to her side.

"got an extra?" you smile. "you smoke?" "ehhh, not really. teach me."

the nun chuckles at your statement, mumbling out the words 'how silly' under her breath. she reaches to the pockets of her belt, taking out a cigarette and lighting it up. "here. put it on your mouth and inhale slowly."

rosaria rarely shows any sign of joy, but when you follow her instructions and cough, she couldn't help but let a smile break out. you're adorable in her eyes, so sweet and gentle. her fears are put to sleep as your hand slowly wraps around the nun's, and rosaria laughs.

"what are you laughing for~?"

she inhales the fumes of her cigarette before blowing smoke on your face.

"nothing."

☆

"you're crying."

it's hard being an agent for valorant. you're aware that it's all for a good cause, but sometimes, you just wished that you stayed at the comfort of your home. you miss your family, you miss your friends, you miss your old life.

every night, 3 am, you'd cry in the range. it's so dark, and you feel so alone, yet it's a great place to weep quietly. it's solemn and serene, and you've lost count on how many times you went here to let your tears fall. you're sad, yet you're in peace.

until fade suddenly showed up.

"f-fade?!" you exclaim, quickly attempting to wipe off the never-ending tears on your cheeks. "w-why're you here? it's so late."

"doesn't matter," fade narrows her eyes, kneeling down in front of you. her dark, heterochromatic eyes never failed to send shivers down your eyes. "why are you crying?"

you didn't want to answer. who would want to answer that kind of question? your throat clogs up as you refuse to say anything, but you knew that the fellow agent could just force the words out of you.

"so? do i need to use my powers to get my answer?" "no..." "then tell me." you sniffle, "why do you wanna know?" "because i care for you. now, tell me."

your eyes widen before slowly softening. fade hums before reaching to her pocket and taking out two cigarettes.

"you smoke, right? tell me all your problems."

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#fanfic #wlw #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #valorant #valorant x reader #rosaria genshin impact #rosaria x reader #fade valorant #fade x reader #genshxn.works #valorrant.works #trrxgerr.works #all.works

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amyylinchen · 2 years

Text

youtube

New day, New song 🥰

#chillmode #chilltime #at home #spotify #youtube #music #new song #chrispyD #smokin problems away

0 notes

our-asexual-experience · 2 months

Note

Idgaf, let's vibe.

This time around I'll never get bit Though you really wanna fix me This time around you're making me sick Though you really wanna get me Somebody's out Somebody's out to get me They really wanna fix me, hit me But this time around I'm taking no shit Though you really wanna get me You really wanna get me He really thought he really had Had a hold on me He really thought he really had They thought they really had control of me He really thought he really had Control of me He really thought he really had They thought they really could control me This time around I'll never get bit Though you really wanna get me This time around I'm taking no shit Though you really wanna fix me Somebody's out Somebody's out to use me They really want to use me And then falsely accuse me This time around They'll take it like spit 'Cause you really can't control me You know you can't control me He really thought he really had Had a hold on me He really thought he really had They thought they really had control of me He really thought he really had A hold on me He really thought he really had They thought they really had control of me He really thought he really had Had a hold on me He really thought he really had They thought they really had control of me He really thought he really had A hold on me He really thought he really had They thought they really had control of me Listen, I've got problems of my own Flashin' cameras, taps on my phone Even in my home I ain't safe as I should be Things always missin' Maybe it could be my friends They ain't friends if they robbin' me Stoppin' me from makin' a profit, see Apology shallow like the ocean I guess I'll resort to gun totin' If I was dead broke and smokin' I'd probably be by my lonesome I'm a killer nigga I ain't jokin' Endo smoke got me choked and I'm hopin' The fool comes slippin' So I could blow'em open This time around I changed up my flow Got rid of the rocks Got pits by the door I've raised other peoples to watch my back Stay away from strangers So I won't slack And I know my nigga Mike like that baby This time around yeah... He really thought he really had Control of me He really thought he really had They thought they really had control of me He really thought he really had A hold on me He really thought he really had They thought they really had control of me He really thought he really had Had a hold on me He really thought he really had They thought they really had control of me He really thought he really had Control of me He really thought he really had They thought they really had control of me He really thought he really had A hold on me He really thought he really had They thought they really had control of me This time around yeah He really thought

This is a song, I presume? Who’s it by and what’s it called?

#asexual #ace #our asexual experience #lgbtqia

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helloaugustmoon · 2 months

Note

great song! ♡

#anon

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hymemena · 1 year

Text

100 Gecs (2023 Album) 10,000 Gecs Sentence Starters

Feel free to change pronouns as necessary, and remember to specify muse for multimuse blogs.

CW: Drug use, drugs, death, religious themes, smoking, mental health, food, sensory problems, guns, weapons, threats, death threats, stalking, murder, abuse, injury, violence, insomnia, cursing

—

Dumbest Girl Alive

"If you think I'm stupid now, you should see me when I'm high."

"I'm smarter than I look."

"I'm the dumbest girl alive."

"Never ask me what I think."

"Money coming from my eyes."

"I'm so happy I could die!"

"Put emojis on my grave."

"Yeah, I'll fuckin' text you back."

757

"Yeah, I'll never go to Heaven."

"I've been smokin' since eleven."

"I got problems with my spending."

"Doing eight in a thirty."

"I'm never in a hurry."

"Everybody wanna party!"

"Wish that I was more discerning."

"Where's the water?"

"Today I'm feeling pitiful."

"I'm taking things too literal when it was hypothetical."

"Now, I'm whining over nothing."

Hollywood Baby

"What you crying about, Baby?"

"Did you get the payment?"

"We had an arrangement."

"Do you wanna party?"

"So go pitch your fit, no one gives a shit."

"I'm going crazy."

"Do you buckle under pressure?"

"You'll never make it in Hollywood, Baby."

Frog On The Floor

"Where'd he come from?"

"Nobody knows."

"He's been chillin' in the basement for a minute."

"It's time we move into the kitchen."

"Make him feel safe."

"Frog on the floor."

"Hey, yeah, I heard you met my friend the other weekend."

"He got on his front legs and did a keg stand."

"The party got real."

"He was chasing flies around."

"Give him some space, he's still workin' it out."

"He doesn't know what people think about."

"He gets the party jumping."

Doritos & Fritos

"Okay, I went to France."

"I went to Greece to get something to eat."

"I'm hard to please."

"Okay, I saw the beach."

"It's one hundred degrees."

"I'll swim in the ocean."

"The TV's tuned to cable."

"I'm sleeping when I'm able."

"The TV's on so loud it hurts my brain."

"I'm eating burritos."

"Jeez Louise, I'm weak in the knees."

"I'm joining the circus."

"I'm lying to strangers."

"I'm looking for danger!"

Billy Knows Jamie

"-Muse- got a gun."

"-Muse-'s gonna kill me, think I need to run."

"-Muse- is kinda scary when he's lookin' at you."

"Run!"

"I've heard it all before."

"He's like a movie star."

"They say he's so deranged."

"Bought mace to keep me safe."

"It's not enough to stay away."

"He knows my house and he knows my name."

"I'm in the closet scared."

"He's kicking down the door."

One Million Dollars

"One million dollars."

"I'm a marijuana addict."

"Fuck you!"

The Most Wanted Person In The United States

"I turned on the news."

"I turned on the news and it said that I was the number one most wanted person in the United States."

"Yeah, I'm a real killer."

"I just killed -muse- and then I ate his dinner."

"I took his car."

"I took his car and I crashed it in the river."

"I was born in the winter."

"Hot like the summer."

"Don't cry to me."

"Don't cry to me, I'm not your mother."

"Everybody shuts the fuck up when I'm passing."

"I'm laughing 'cause shit's so funny."

"Oh, is it hot like that?"

"Yeah, it's hot like that."

"Don't need to ask me."

I Got My Tooth Removed

"You were tough."

"You were unforgiving."

"Made me cry all the time."

"You were mean, such an asshole."

"I had to say goodbye."

"I don't wanna talk about it ever again."

"My head's like a ton of bricks."

"This dumb bitch still learns new tricks."

"I woke up and was down horrendous."

"I think I need to see a dentist."

"Praying to a fuckin' God I'll never be."

"If it's gonna fix itself, I guess it's just as well."

"It doesn't hurt me every day so I just let it get away."

"I'll deal with it another day."

"I guess that day just never came."

"I don't know what to do."

"My cheek swelled up twice its size."

"Playing Operation with a safety pin."

"Looking up home remedies."

"I'm staring at the ceiling, counting seconds 'til I get to sleep."

"That shit didn't work."

"I promised you, honest, tried my hardest."

mememe

"Back once again."

"You'll never really know."

"You'll never really know anything about me."

"No, you'll never really know anything."

"When we were together I tried to tell you."

"I used to tap dance when I was in choir."

"I broke my arm when my -parent- crashed a go-kart."

"I tried on your lipstick, I thought I looked pretty."

"You're always so busy."

"You're always so busy so you never hear me."

"Do I sound like a joke when I'm talking to you?"

"I take it back."

"You say so many things."

"I'll laugh too fucking hard."

"You probably think I'm so mean."

"I don't even know you."

"I guess it's such an easy game."

"Could you explain it all away?"

"OK, bet, I forget."

"I don't think I'll pretend it's cool."

#lyric starters #lyric prompts #lyric meme #lyric rp meme #lyric rp starter #lyric writing prompts #music prompts #music meme #music rp meme #roleplay memes #roleplay starters #writing prompts #writing prompt #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay prompts #rp prompts #rp resources #roleplay resources

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crazy-bi-btch · 2 years

Text

Wonder’s of You (Part I)

Summary: Y/N going through the trials and tribulations of moving and starting a new life in Wyoming.

Warning: ANGSTT, future smut, Mention of addiction, mention of car crash, legal terms, mentions of guns, Rhetts smokin hot ass, Mean!Y/N

WC: 2.9k

a/n: I was not kidding when I said I would start a fic about our fine ass Rhett Abbott😌 Part II will be out soonnnnn enjoyyy

Y/N was born and raised in Santa Ana, California. Daughter to the family of Paloma Hacienda that was built from scratch by her Grandfather and her father. Immigrants running from the dangers of the drug war in Sonora, Mexico. Selling everything they owned, picking up every last penny they hid from the money hungry drug lords.

Her grandfather made the riskiest call the night before. Using the payphone early in the morning, he rang Richard Olivares, a long time friend of his, who as well fled somewhere in the United States. During that call, The Olivares sent help for his family to cross to the United States. The Olivares resided in Wyoming, unfortunately land was not up for sale. Taking the loan from him, The Gonzalez owed $30,000 dollars to the Olivares, land in Santa Ana, California was soon awaiting them.

Y/N’s father was a mere 9 year old who feared for his family, and crossing the border into California was nothing compared to the constant fear they faced back in their small ranch in Sonora. In Santa Ana, that’s were Paloma Hacienda was born.

Y/N was born into the country life, and her younger sister, Alma along with her 2 male cousins, Eduardo and Ricky. Herding cattle, feeding the animals, riding the horses and waking up at 5:30 am was second nature.

Grandpa Ricky was tremendously proud of how dedicated his family to maintain the Hacienda. It was around that time when Y/N had turned 18 and decided on majoring in agriculture, since being the oldest of her sibling and family, she was fearful of leaving her family and home behind. Her grandfather had pushed her to not be fearful, that her cousin’s would do just fine. That’s what she feared the most, growing up she constantly had to defy the stereotype of a female being in charge of the land. Her family had beliefs that were set on the males of the family to take care of the land and the females with the housework.

That all changed for her grandfather when Y/N was born, her personality outshined everyone and was fierce enough to take on the responsibility of becoming the future landowner of Hacienda Paloma. She made sure to make that known with her male family members. She was strong, and rough when in charge. For her, the pressure was immense, one slip up and she believed they would replace her with her second oldest cousin Eduardo. She constantly had to prove herself, trying to perfectly master each farm task while working the land and taking care of the cattle.

Her father helped but mainly focused on the financial aspect of the ranch. Her mother was a Texan cowgirl with indigenous decent that enriched the already aztec culture she was raised in.

She left for college and during her visits back, she realized that her absence had become known on the ranch. Her horse Chester was slender than usual, the sheep had become lazy, and the crops wilted more and more as time passed. This stressed her, she wanted to drop everything and run back home but she knew it would disappoint her family. Especially her grandfather, who looked older and sicker each time she came back. Her stress and worry while she was away made her rely on the only thing she knew. Alcohol.

She found herself drinking every other day, ‘releasing stress’. She made friends in her classes, go out to the cantinas with her peers, drinking away there worries. She hadn’t realized that it was a problem till she was blackout drunk near the entrance of her dorm room. It was a pity of a scene. No matter what disciplinary act the university had against Y/N, alcohol was never out of the picture.

The week of her graduation, she got the call Grandpa Ricky was too sick to travel to her graduation. She decided to drown her sorrow in the nearest cantina where she later had a drunk driving incident that left her traumatized and in legal trouble.

Her first DUI. Luckily, no one was hurt, her car was totaled, but she was forced to seek treatment in order for the court to not suspend her FOID card and License.

Explaining to her parents on the day of her graduation on how her car was demolished and why she needed to go to AA meetings was enough to shock them. They looked disappointed but most of all worried.

“ Don’t worry I got it handled.” She would note to them, her dad shook her head.

“ You better!”

“ Honey, we are so proud of you, you will get through this just- don’t tell anyone. Especially your grandfather.” A pang of hurt rang through Y/N body. Her image for the family was worth more than her mental and substance abuse. So she did what she always did, nod and smile.

Eduardo, was not pleased with Y/N coming back. He was a pretty lousy caretaker of the Hacienda. He was annoyed of always hearing people complain about his ways of handling the land. Especially when his grandfather would compare him with her.

After settling back into her old role on the ranch, Grandpa Ricky became ill once again. Losing Grandpa Ricky would change everything. Absolutely everything.

The night before Grandpa Ricky died, he called for Y/N to his room. As she arrived her father had walked out, pale and fear written all over his face. Y/N figured she would ask him later after talking with her grandfather.

“ Hi tito, how are you.” She would ask with a small smile as she removed her western hat down, sitting next to the bed he laid comfortably in. She was trying so hard to be strong, for the family, and hell even for grandpa. He laughed softly, “ I remember when you started calling me tito.”

“ Abuelito, was a hard word for me.” She teased as she took his soft, weak hand.

“ Y/N, you have done so much for this family. Our land. I am extremely proud of you.” Y/N fought back tears as she heard her grandfather huff out, his breathing became heavy.

“ Tito..” She croaked out. He put his hand up to stop her.

“ You are responsible now. Do not be afraid of change. Remember that.” He sternly remarked. Y/N only could give a small nod with tears streaming down. She didn’t know if she was more worried about become the primary landowner or of losing her grandfather. The next morning, Grandpa Ricky had passed away in his sleep, holding the picture of his wife, who passed when Y/N was recently born.

The days only got worse, an estate lawyer called the family into the office in the Hacienda where he stated from grandpa’s will :

“The Olivares and Gonzalez where partnered ever since the purchase of the ranch. With my absence, Hacienda Paloma shall be sold- in return, debt will be repaid to The Olivares. 5% of earnings of the sold property shall be kept by The Gonzalez to relocated to the property I bought in Wyoming….”

Y/N’s family was shocked and saddened to learn about their unexpected move to a state they only acquainted with once.

Y/N life was moving way too fast, it nearly pushed her to the brink to drown in a must needed drink. The thing that stopped her from drinking- the anger she felt towards the Olivares.

After leaving the empty structure and land behind in Santa Ana, California, Y/N suppressed her sadness and lead her family to their new home. In every truck her family member owned, they carried every horse, sheep, and cattle they owned. Y/N had brought along the 5 horses she and her dad owned. At night during the rest stops, Y/N made sure to check in every carrier to sooth and feed the scared animals. She could hear her family softly snore in their trucks as she cried softly on her horse Chester.

“ Oh Chester… I don’t know what to do.” Y/N sniffled as she let her forehead rest on his nose. He huffed softly and licked her salty tears.

As they entered through the town that led to the ranch in Wyoming, she could see the folks turn and stare at the loud and new coming family. Y/N rolled her eyes, she just wanted to get to this damn place she had to call home. Most importantly to find the Olivares and spit in their face.

We stood outside the 200 acres of land that looked seemingly abandoned. The mountains gave the ranch home enough of a great view. The home consisted of only 4 rooms. Seeing as the family was built of 8 members, people would have to sleep in the living room, for the meantime. That day consisted of Y/N ordering her family to unload and move belongings into the house before heading over to the abandoned barn that would hold the animals for the meantime.

“ This is a fucking mess.” Eduardo grumbled as he opened the barn and stared at the rundown stables. Y/N sighed and nodded, “ Grandpa really fucked us over.”

Y/N smacked his head in anger, “ At least be grateful, son.” He flinched and rolled his eyes as he held his head. “ It could be worse- we could be homeless.”

“ If you say so boss.” Eduardo taunted as he made his way to help and somehow make the stables work for the animals.

The next morning, with no sleep under her belt, Y/N stood up before anyone. Setting Chester up, they trotted around the property scoping the land. It wasn’t California anymore.

Once Chester and her were back, her father was awaiting her, his grey western hat in hand.“ Before we go into town, we need to drop this off, Darlin’.” He pulled the check from his back pocket. She huffed in anger, nodding and handing Chester to Eduardo.

“ Let’s go.” She spat as she fixed her brown hat that had tilted down.

“ We are sorry for your loss, but business is business. If you need anything-” Mr. Olivares said as he smugly took the check from her father. They currently sat in his home office, his daughter Maria sitting silently to the side of his study.

“ We don’t need nothin from you, sir.” Y/n spat glaring at both Maria and Mr. Olivares.

“ Y/N-” Her father ordered, she stood up walking up to his desk where he sat, narrowing his eyes at Y/N’s anger demeanor.

“ Your family took almost everything from us. I hope this will be enough for y’all to stay the fuck away from us.” Tears of anger pooled under her eyes as she exited the home of the Olivares. Her father calling for her as she waited for him in the truck. The lecture her father gifted her lasted enough till they were in town.

“ I told the true, papa.” She huffed in annoyance as she slammed the car door, without noticing she had ran into a man, it nearly knocked her off her boots. Her hands held on to the broad shoulders and arms of the stranger. Her western hat flying to the ground, she looked up and found the most beautiful pair of blue eyes, tan skin, an afternoon shadow around his jaw, and dirty brown short hair that curled at the ends behind his ears. His cowboy hat slightly titled up enough to see his brows and forehead.

“ ’M sorry Darlin’.” The man spoke with a deep soft voice, she realized she was still holding on to him. She coughed and pulled away from him and reached for her hat, settling it on her on Y/H/C head. She saw her father run to her side asking if everything was alright. She brushed off her flannel, to play off their awfully intimate encounter that made her cheeks burn.

“ ‘m fine… ‘scuse me.” Y/N stumbled over her words as she glanced at the grinning man, moving past him.

Even throughout the day, she would catch herself thinking about the man. His eyes, his voice-

“ Earth to Y/N?!” Alma, her sister, waved in front of her zoned out sister. They were in their new shared room, Alma was rambling about how graduating early only would make it boring for her, and that she would have to work on the ranch now that she doesn’t have school.

“ Sorry, got lot goin’ on right now.” Alma smiled softly and sat next to her sister.

“ Don’t worry too much! We’ll be fine, without you this whole plan would have gone south a long time ago.” The sisters laughed and held each other in a comforting embrace Y/N needed.

The next morning, the family was up ready to start the fixing the barn and fencing the ranch much needed. Alma had decided to help that morning, wearing her boots and wearing her father’s black western hat to protect her from the Wyoming sun. Y/N made sure to saddle up Chester to make her daily trot around the land, she was determined to memorize the land like the back of her hand.

Y/N could see her family from afar fixing and building up the barn. Alma was helping her uncle unload the hay off the truck. Soon material ran out and Alma decided to head into town with her cousin Ricky.

As the family took a break before heading back to work, Y/N hopped off Chester to go inside the shared home.

“Mama?”

“ In here!” Y/N found her mama brewing coffee in the kitchen, her aunt cooking up a storm for the hungry fellows that were soon to storm in. She smiled at her tired daughter, opening her arms from an embrace. She gladly took the opportunity.

“ How’s it going out there hun’.” She questioned before heading back to organizing the cabinets with the remaining dishes in the moving boxes. Y/N pinched her nose and closed her eyes in exhaustion.

“ Mama we are more busy than a dog with fleas.” The expression had her mama chuckle.

“ Child, y’all are given it you’re all,” her southern accent rang softly as she crossed her arms to stare at her oldest daughter.

Y/N sighed, “ I know mama…. It’s just-” Her mother walked over to hold her hand.

“Baby… we’ve sacrificed so much. Do the Gonzalez’s ever give up on a challenge?” Y/N cracked with a smile and playfully rolled her eyes. “ A’right off you go!” Her mother playful pushed her out the door back to help her family.

It didn’t take long before Eduardo’s truck was dusting up the trail towards the entrance of the ranch. Y/N and Chester galloped towards the entrance of the ranch. The sun beaming down as she saw Alma jump out the bed of the truck. Her eyes gleamed and cheeks red, ‘He is soooo hot!’ she mouthed and before Y/N could react, he stepped out the truck. The man from back in town.

“ Folks we got ‘nother pair of helpin’ hands!” Ricky cheered as he hopped out the driving side, pointing to the man. He wore dark washed jeans, dark blue short-sleeve shirt, enough to show his strong arms, white western hat.

Alma charmingly walked over to him who had meet eyes with Y/N instantly recognizing her.

“ Don’t worry, we don’t bite.” She giggled, her hand lacing around his.

“ Alma, get inside the house.” Alma pouted, letting go of his arm. “Now.” Alma scoffed.

“ I’ll be back.” She whispered to the man, who smiled back to her and then back to Y/N.

“ Ricky, c’mere.” Y/N hopped of Chester and handed him to Ricky. Y/N couldn’t help her heart flutter in anticipation. Who are you?

“ She’s 17 ya know.” Y/N spat at the man as she walked towards him, he frowned at her comment and before he could respond Y/N cut him off. “ Who are you and why are you on my property?” Y/N maintained a stoic expression as she eyed the man.

He smirked, “ The name’s Rhett. Rhett Abbott. Apologizes if their was some kinda’ misunderstanding with your-”

“ Sister.”

“ Right.” He chuckled lightly, she striped off her heavy duty gloves, trying not to focus so much on how his muscles flexed for no insignificant reason. “ The Olivares sent me to help. More like lookin’ for a job.”

Y/N eyes narrowed, her blood ran cold at the sound of their name. “ We ain’t hiring.” She spat in annoyance. Of course, she thought, they sending over spies now. Rhett could tell her discontent with his response.

“ I know how to fix stuff- well, fencing, I can start there.” He signaled to the lack of fencing wire around the land. Y/N’s anger fueled by the minute he spoke, the attraction she felt toward Rhett soon flew out the window.

“ We ain’t looking for no help. You can tell your boss that.” Y/N exclaimed, crossing her arms, making sure to stand her ground. Rhett sighed and looked down at his boots.

“ Ma’am I assure-” Y/N walked up to to Rhett hand up to stop him from him continuing.

“ Next time I see you step on my property. I will not hesitated to shot you. Got it, sunshine.” Y/N threatened, a menacing smile lingering in her pink lips. Rhett just stood there, mouth dry and deeply aroused by Y/N response, his mind dizzy as he got a whiff of her scent. Her shirt tight around her chest as it rose up and down with each deep breath.

“ Ricky,” She walked away from the stunned man, “ Give him a ride won’t ya.” On the way back to town he knew damn well what he needed to do. He needed to do whatever it took to win Y/N over.

#rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott #outer range #maria olivares #lewis pullman #rhett abbott smut

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