#and I’m not even to season 2 yet; I JUST got to The Return

[indecisivemuch]

Lovesick & Lovelorn

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You thought that Luke Castellan, your best friend, did not reciprocate your feelings for him. To cope, you wrote letters addressed to him and kept them in a box. What happens when one of your sisters finds it? Inspired by 'To All the Boys I've Loved Before' (fluff, best friends to lovers; you thought it was unreciprocated feelings, happy ending).

Note: Ahh, I'm so happy the show got renewed for season 2.

Word count: 3.3k

You were deeply convinced your fate was tied to one with eternal lovelorn. 

Three years ago, you arrived at Camp Half-Blood and settled into the Hermes cabin before you were claimed by your Godly parent. It was there that you met Luke Castellan - one of your soon-to-be best friends. Though, you knew you were doomed from your first glance into his eyes. Then came his friendly smile and an offer of a handshake, where his hand engulfed yours.

At first, you thought that silly little crush would dissipate. But over time, as you became close friends with the Hermes cabin counselor, you were almost convinced he was faultless. You seemed to adore every little thing about him. Along with the fondness that grew in your heart was also self-pity. At one point, even looking at him hurt because you knew he did not return your feelings.

Hence, the letters.

In between your memories of Luke were letters you wrote throughout those years just to cope with the unreciprocated feeling. It was painful, but what else could you do? You truly believed confessing would put your friendship at risk. Neither did you feel like dealing with the heartache of a rejection. So you never uttered any of your feelings to him, continuing to imprint it on lined papers instead.

You scowled as the pen you were using ran out of ink, leaving the latest edition of unspoken words unfinished. Wordlessly, you fold the incomplete letter into an envelope and shove it into the turquoise box you bought while returning from a quest once. You neatly put the box under your bed.

“Y/N, it’s time to head out,” one of your sisters repeated. Two minutes ago, people were starting to leave, so those on cleaning duties could clean up your cabin. Since you were mid-writing, you hastily asked for a few more seconds. Now, you were the only one left besides two of your sisters.

“Yes, sorry,” you quickly muttered, exiting the cabin and almost immediately bumped into Luke. “Hey, what are you doing here?” you asked.

“I’m here for you. I thought we should hang out,” Luke answered ever so casually. Yet, your heart swelled at the thought that he was there for you. Before you could reply, you two were interrupted by another camper, who told you that one of your other best friends needed you and that it was an emergency.

“I’m so sorry, we’re gonna have to take a rain check on that hangout,” you informed Luke. You slowly started walking backward and away from him. “I’ll see you later, though?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Come find me whenever you’re done, yeah?” Luke requested, hoping to spend time with you later. His soft look made you pause mid-step, almost as if your foot had been cemented to the stones beneath. You nodded absentmindedly before snapping out of that state to comfort your friend.

After two hours of listening to your friend and comforting them, you finally left their cabin to search for Luke, who previously told you to find him after. However, around half an hour later, you slowly gave up at the thought of doing so, feeling almost defeated.

As you turned to head back to your cabin, you spotted the Hermes counselor exiting his. You called out his name, watching his back stiffen before he turned to you. You ignored the odd behavior and recalled, “I’m free now if you’re down to hang out.”

“I’m so sorry, but I’m really busy right now.”

“Uhm, well, I guess I’ll just meet you at our spot whenever you’re done then?” you suggested. You and Luke fell into a routine of star-gazing every night.

Laying under the dark sky that painted your whole horizon often made you feel small. But something about that was so calming, especially considering most of the time, you were suffocated by the weight and duties of being a Demigod. You wondered if it was the moment or if it was Luke’ presence that aided your momentary peace.

“I really, really can’t tonight, I have a lot of things to do.”

“Oh… that’s okay. I’ll see you around?” you replied, watching as Luke fidgeted and gulped while attempting to look normal. It was futile, really, because being best friends meant you could sense when the slightest thing was even off. He nodded, and you retreated to your cabin with thoughts swirling in your head.

Then came the next few torturous and confusing days. For the last two years, Luke would always approach you - almost daily, and vice versa. Being best friends with Luke has been wonderful. Every day together felt like a blessing.

Now, it seemed almost like he was avoiding you. He would find a new excuse whenever you approached. He wouldn’t even look in your direction. Yesterday, you made eye contact with him, and he turned away abruptly, facing his back towards you.

You had enough after day three. You went to your cabin after dinner and reached under your bed with one hand. You did not want to, but this would perhaps be your first-ever letter of anguish about Luke Castellan.

The box…where is the box?

You peered under your bed, mouth hanging open when your eyes could not spot it either. You looked up and around, hoping maybe you had misplaced it somewhere, even though part of you knew you had put it under your bed. You have always done so.

“Hey, have you seen a turquoise box?” you asked your sister as she walked by.

“Oh, the rectangle one, about this big?” your sister reconfirmed, using her hand to show you the size she indicated.

“Yes, that one.”

“Oh, I gave it to Luke.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I was cleaning the cabin three days ago, accidentally knocked it over and saw letters addressed to him. He was right by the door, so I thought maybe I should just deliver them to him.”

Blood drained from your face, and your heart plummeted. Anything else your sister seemed to be talking about started sounding like murmurs, and you could not focus on a word she was saying. Your worst nightmare seemed to have arrived. Somehow, your friendship with him had ended without you knowing. No wonder he has been avoiding you these past few days. He has read them all.

“I need to go,” you quickly muttered, storming out of your cabin. You could feel your body slightly shaking from the panic. No amount of Demigod training had prepared you for moments like these. Then you saw Luke walking over you…with the box in his hands. You took a deep breath and practically forced your voice box to work.

“Listen, Luke—”

“I didn’t think you’d buy birthday gifts that early, Y/N,” he interrupted.

“What?” you questioned and observed the sweet smile gracing his Adonis-like face.

“This?” he gestured to the box. “Your sister gave it to me and said it was from you. Though I thought I should give it back ‘cause it’s not my birthday yet, you might have wanted to give it to me yourself.”

“Oh…” it was the only thing you could utter as it dawned on you what he had perceived the situation as. “Wait, so you haven’t opened it?” you clarified.

“Nope.”

“...So we’re ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” your mouth hung slightly agape at his words. As you scrunch your eyebrows, you could see how his fingers fidget somewhat, almost as if he could tell you would bring his odd behavior up.

“You’ve been acting really odd the last few days, Luke. It had me worried. I thought I did something wrong. It seems like you were avoiding me.”

“I was just really busy with counselor duties,” he dismissed it. However, something about it made you a bit hesitant to believe his words. You did it anyway, nevertheless. You blamed it on your stupid heart.

“Yeah, but—” you stopped, not wanting to stir anything. “Ok then, I’m going to put this away, but I’ll see you later, yeah? Maybe we can finally not rain check again?” You hated how hopeful you sounded. You’re glad that the sun had set a few minutes ago, blessing you with enough degree of darkness to hide your facial expressions from being as evident as they would be in daylight.

“Of course, I’ll see you later, Y/N,” despite the dark and only dim lights from nearby, you noticed there was something different about him. Luke was wearing a nervous smile, almost sheepish like a schoolboy. There was a glimmer of amazement in his eyes like he was in disbelief. Though it was definitely overpowered by a glaring degree of warmth. He was looking at you like all those writers have written down in the books you have read before - something along the lines of adoration and love.

You shook those thoughts away again, refusing to somehow fool yourself into believing he could reciprocate those feelings.

“Yeah, see you,” you muttered, hand gripping tightly on the box as you took it from his hold. As soon as you reached your cabin, you opened the box to peer inside. You immediately sighed in relief upon seeing the copious amount of letters with your handwriting on them, all with Luke’s name on the front.

However, your eyes landed on one unfamiliar one. It had your name on it, written in a familiar wonky handwriting that you have always found endearing.

You sat on your bed, taking the letter out delicately, almost in disbelief. Then, dread overtook any other emotion. Was this Luke’s way of letting you down easy? By pretending to not have read any of your letters and rejecting you through the form that you express your love to him? — you had to physically shake your head at that thought.

You took the letter out of its envelope and started reading: 

‘Dear Y/N,

This is probably the 40th time I tried writing this letter. It feels impossible to try and convey everything onto one piece of paper.

You deserve someone to at least view you as their muse rather than always being the writer. 

Hence why, for the past few days, I had to physically drag myself away from you every time you tried approaching me because I knew if I didn’t, I would just end up spilling my feelings out right then. I knew if I even looked at you, I would have just abandoned this letter idea and run to you. You should have seen me yesterday. When we made eye contact, I had to turn away from you because having the knowledge of you liking me back was enough to knock all the air out of my lungs. I was a flustered mess from just that eye contact.

I doubt my words could rival what you have written about me. You once wrote how it hurts to love someone this much and to always be the poet but never the poem. Well, I’d like to thank you for making me your poems. However, now it is your turn. Allow me to be your poet.

You occupy my mind like it’s your castle. If I had to name everything I love about you, this letter would never end. But for starters, here are some of the first times:

The first time Chiron introduced you to the Hermes cabin, I could not take my eyes off you. Chris had to nudge me away. Just from that alone, a part of me knew I was in trouble. I think I came to the conclusion that I did not want to hold anybody else’s hand after just shaking yours.

2.5 years back during a campfire in June, even when the fire had died and the air grew cold, our voices still filled the air. Conversations just flow when I am with you. I remember never wanting that moment to end. Then you started talking about constellations and told me about the ones above us. Right there and then was the first time I had the urge to kiss you, and to show you that I was just as obsessed with you as you were with stars.

The first time I realized I was in love with you was while coming back from a quest 2 years ago. I remember feeling so numb coming back. The world almost seemed monotone, and I wondered for a second, what if I had made one wrong move? Just as I returned to camp, you bolted and hugged me. Somehow, it felt like I had just taken my first bit of fresh air after drowning for so long. I vividly recall shutting my eyes as I hugged you back because I felt like I was finally home. I remember never wanting to be away or out of your hold as others approached and rushed to get me into the infirmary for checkups.

It was only when I was lying on the infirmary bed that it hit me like a train that lost control. A large proportion of why I fought so hard was to come back to you. You’re my best friend, Y/N, and my place of solace and peace. Then came the realization that I was in love with you. I remember everybody else’s voice drowning out as I focused on that thought. It was strangely calming, as if my heart had known all along but was waiting for my head to catch up. Then I remember just smiling as I looked at the ceiling, unafraid of the new feeling.

Last year, the day we went on a quest together lapsed with Valentine’s Day. Every moment felt extra sweet. Us sitting on the train, staring outside the window together like a couple going on a trip. My mind savoured the small things like you falling asleep on my shoulder with my coat around you and us holding hands as we walked through the crowd to not get lost among couples - which I like to imagine that others had thought we were one as well. It was the first time I allowed myself to pretend this is how it would feel like if you were mine and how our lives together would be if we were not Demigods.

I thought for sure you would have realized something by the way I was staring and acting around you that I was irrevocably in love with you. After reading your letters, I realized that you did see it. But you refused to believe that I could ever be in love with you. Well, I hope my letters will reverse all your doubts, because Y/N, it is so easy to fall in love with you. 

In fact, the world I built up in my head during last year’s quest had consumed my thoughts enough to make me frown at the idea of returning to camp, where it would not just be the two of us anymore. Loving you has never been something I was afraid of. Loving you has been an honour every single day, even if you never knew of it. 

It’s also somewhat funny that I was heavily lovesick while you were lovelorn. But I promise, Y/N, that from this second on, I intend to make you know that you are loved and that I am so deeply in love with you.

Again, I never intended for you to wait for three days, but I ended up throwing away every letter I started because I felt like none had suffice. I didn’t want to mess it up and give you something less than you deserved. I wanted to do something nice for you. I promise I’ll make it up for those three days if you allow me to. But one chance is all I need.

If you are willing to give me that chance, you know where to find me.

Sincerely,

Luke Castellan’

Upon reading his last words, you immediately left your cabin with the letter in hand. You jogged to the spot where the two of you would always meet to stargaze together. Almost instantly, you saw his tall figure under the moonlight. As if he could sense your presence, the Hermes boy turned around and gave you a sweet smile.

“You meant it?” you asked as you raised the letter up, slowly approaching him.

“Every single word, including all the unspoken ones I intend on telling you from now on,” the way he said it felt like he was swearing it on his own heart. “In fact, I would have written more down, but I knew I was keeping you waiting for too long,” he explained as you stopped right before him.

Something about this moment felt cathartic. Three years of dancing around unspoken words and yearning led to this moment. Luke grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over your knuckle. You peered up at him, and it was then that you finally accepted what his looks meant: he was in love with you, and there was no doubt about that. There was no more denial on your end that Luke Castellan was enamored with you.

“Will you let me be your poet, Y/N?” he breathlessly referenced the words you and him had both previously written like he had been waiting for this for a lifetime.

“Of course,” you answered almost without hesitation, watching his eyes soften even more, if possible.

“Is it ok if I ask you another question?” he asked again, his other hand caressing your cheek.

“Yeah?” Your face flushed as you saw his brown eyes dart to your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

This time, you didn’t say anything. You’ve written down way too many words in the past three years. You decided actions would speak louder in this case. So you pulled Luke down by his camp necklace, hands gripping the beads on it as you tiptoed up to reach his lips. 

Luke physically melted as he brought one hand to your waist to hold you up as he leaned down from the height difference. Everything Luke had imagined before could not match the kiss he was finally sharing with you - the kiss that seemed to seal his lips into a spell that would forever leave them unable to belong to anyone else. It felt like heaven and hell combined because he knew that this was going to ruin him forever, and every second he spent with his eyes shut would be one where he had this feeling and moment sown behind his eyelids. 

You had the same line of thoughts. The wait was long, but you felt like it was worth it. Under the stars, you may feel small. But standing there next to Luke, you finally realize it doesn’t matter. Because he was holding you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You were his sun, moon, and everything in between - no constellations could ever measure to you.

--------------------

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[prettymonegasque]

not acceptable

Charles Leclerc x fem!driver! reader

Summary: Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do when your pretty boyfriend is a lil dumb

Warnings: Excessive cursing, Lando slander, grown men sharing a single brain cell, fluff?

Word Count: 1.3k

Based on my favourite scene in Schitt’s Creek

In all the two years you’ve been in Ferrari, the speculations and rumours of you dating Charles were non-stop. Neither of you paid much attention to it. You were both in happy relationships. However, that changed in the summer of ‘22 when you broke up with your partner. It wasn’t messy and you both agreed it was for the better. You focused on the rest of the season. 

Fast forward to the summer of ‘23, you and Charles were both single. You decided to give in to the speculations and give the relationship a real shot. You went on a few dates, each one being more fun than the previous one. Yet neither of you took the leap to become exclusive. You both liked each other but it wasn’t said out loud as much as you would’ve wanted to. So when Charles invited you to a game night with his friends, you thought it would be the one where he introduced you as his girlfriend. 

You knocked on his apartment door at 7 pm. You had brought a charcuterie board because you panicked and the first thing your mind thought was cheese. 

“Y/N! Come in.” Charles opened the door and hugged you. You tried your best to return while managing the charcuterie board. He laughed at your struggle, took the board from your hand and led you in. You spotted some familiar faces in the room. “Hey, guys. This is Y/N. My teammate as you know.” To risk being dramatic, the only description for what you felt was “death by a thousand cuts”. You still forced a smile and greeted everyone. You took a seat on the sofa next to Charles. “You brought a charcuterie board?” Pierre asked puzzled. “Dibs on gouda.” Yelled a familiar Brit.

**************

For the next few hours, you forced yourself to forget about your “teammate” and focus on the game instead. To everyone’s surprise, you were very good at Monopoly. You had already collected over $7000 worth of assets. You were more than happy to win by default. Arthur suggested Uno and everyone complied. You had never played it before which made the group very happy. 

When you got your cards you leaned over to Charles and whispered “What the fuck should I do now? ” Charles peeked at your cards and by instinct you shied them away from him. “You have to show me the cards so I can tell you what to do.” He laughed. You rolled your eyes and showed him the cards. “How the hell did you get 3 +4 cards?” “Why? Is that bad?” “No no. It is very good and I am very grateful my turn is before you.” “I am gonna crush these motherfuckers” You silently giggled.

“Y/N your turn,” Andrea called out. You placed the +4 card on the table. “Seriously?” Lando sighed and took 4 cards from the deck. “I thought you'd never played this before.” “I haven’t. I’m just that good, Norris.” “You know you could put all the +4 cards at once? ” Charles whispered in your ear. When your turn came again you placed both your +4 cards down. “Oh come on. You’re an absolute ass.” Lando exclaimed. “You just got destroyed by a UNO rookie, Lando” Pierre doubled over in laughter. “Also you have only one card left. You can call out UNO” Arthur nudged you. “UNO!” You yelled. “Well, I guess we have a winner. ” Lorenzo sighed and folded.

You started feeling a little guilty. Your winning spree kept cutting the game short. It didn’t look like anyone was having any fun. Even if Charles isn’t going to introduce you as his girlfriend, you still want his friends and brothers to like you as Charles’ girl. Charles brought in Scrabble as his last resort. He wasn’t expecting to go through 2 games so quickly. You were chosen as the judge. You promised yourself to go easy on everyone. You weren’t sure if you were making a good impression on everyone but boy did your ego love this. 

**************

“What do you mean ‘rizz’ isn’t accepted?” Arthur yelled. “Mate it isn’t in the dictionary.” “Then why does everyone call Lando ‘NoRIZZ’?” “Hey!” “I consider it as an acceptable word. We know the meaning. It exists. It’s a word.” You chimed in. “Thank you!” Arthur smiled and added 13 points to himself. The game continued and you limited yourself to simple words. And you accepted every word regardless of how ridiculous it was. 

“Yes Pierre ‘Fuck’ is a word.” 

“I mean we all know what ‘OMG’ is”

“Sure, Charles. You can make Frenglish words.” 

You could physically feel the pain from the insanity of some words but you were on a mission. You nodded and smiled and carried on. The words became chaotic by the minute. Your last straw was when Lando argued that “Skibidi” should be accepted. 

“That’s it. I can’t take this shit anymore. I respect the game too much to put up with this. You are way too old to use the word ‘Skibidi’, Lando.” “Yeah so wrong, Lando” Pierre fakes disappointment. “You! Fuck is not acceptable.” “Not acceptable. Yes sorry, Y/N” He bites back a laugh. “OMG!? Are you kidding me?” “I wasn’t.” Lorenzo shakes his head. “And my boyfriend sits there looking pretty and wanting to make up Frenglish words. THAT’S NOT EVEN A LANGUAGE. NOT ACCEPTABLE!” 

“I’m sorry. What did you just say?” Charles looked up at you. “I said Lando is old.” You tried to shift the conversation. “Why the fuck am I getting slandered?” “No. I think it was something about your boyfriend being pretty and making up words.” Charles redirects you. “Um... I don’t remember saying that.” You mumbled. “Yeah no. That’s what we heard. Right Arthur?” Pierre snickered. 

“Hey if my girlfriend says Frenglish isn’t acceptable then it isn’t, guys” Charles smirked. “Or it is. I don’t remember saying it.” You shrugged. “So you can do whatever you like.” The ceiling looked much more interesting than the gorgeous green eyes looking at you. “I think our work is done here. Let’s go guys.” Lando stood up. “And what exactly was that work, Norizz?” You called out as everyone was walking out the door chattering. Lando just smiled at you and closed the door. 

You and Charles remained quiet and just looked at each other for a long moment. “I don’t k-” “Do you r-” You both spoke at the same time. Gentle giggles echoed in the silence. “I was gonna ask if you regretted it?” Charles looked at you with a hopeful glint in his eyes. “No. God no. Charles, I don’t regret it at all. But to be honest, I kinda thought you hosted this game night to introduce me as your girlfriend. It sucked ass when you called me your teammate.” You looked down at your feet. You contemplated if sitting down would make this whole shebang less awkward. But Charles quietened your thoughts by standing up and taking your hands in his.

 “Cherie, seconds before you knocked, I was having a full-blown panic attack. I really really like you and I wanted us to be official but I didn’t know what you felt. The guys were there for emotional support because I do not trust myself with any high-risk situation.”

“You drive a car at 300 km/hr almost every weekend.” 

“Please. That is nothing compared to you. Every time I get in the cockpit, I’m more worried about your safety than mine. I was going to introduce you as my girlfriend. Trust me the word was on the tip of my tongue but I was being a pussy and chickened out. I’m so glad you did it tho.” His smile made those adorable dimples pop as he hugged you. “I’m so glad I did it too.” Your voice came out muffled with your cheek pressed against his chest. 

“And I’m so glad you called me pretty.”   

[ivoyzzz]

Match Point - kang saebyeok

synopsis: you and saebyeok are both beloved tennis players and have your long-awaited game. after the game, the unspoken tension become too much and finally she snaps.

warnings: fluff, tension!!

a/n: wait i love this, thank you for almost 60 followers oh em gee. this blog isn’t even 2 weeks old and i’ve recived so much love!! xoxo ivy

Saebyeok stepped onto the court, the scorching sun against her skin as the crowd erupted in applause. Every single eye in the stadium seemed to be drawn to her, captivated by the effortless way she carried herself. Saebyeok seemed to have this ability to command attention without even trying, her presence alone enough to make a whole room stop.

This was the biggest game of her season, and for good reason. This one held something extra. It was against you, her biggest competitor, the one competitor who could keep up with her. Fans adored both of you, drawn to your opposite styles—her quiet confidence and fluid movement, your sharp movements and lively personality.

Though you two couldn’t be more different, when you played together, the two of you fit together somehow. It wasn’t just a game to decide who was the best—it was the comparison on who was better, of personalities, of worlds colliding in front of an audience who couldn’t tear their eyes away.

Saebyeok’s eyes followed your every movement as you walked onto the court-waving at the fans that adored you. Then, you looked over at Saebyeok, giving her a smile. She wasn’t sure if it was a, “good luck” or a “I think i’m going to win” smile. Either way, it irritated her.

Saebyeok tuned out the fans, only hearing the bouncing of the tennis ball. When Saebyeok hit it back at you, you hit it back every time, no matter the power she put into it. “Someone looks tense, this is just warmup.” You remarked , tone friendly enough that it seemed playful. She just gripped her racket harder, she wasn’t going to even spare you a word.

When the game had started, you served first. Your serve was just as powerful and precise as Saebyeok remembered. Saebyeok wasn’t worried, even if you had beat her before, she’d beat you more. So, she returned every hit, and you returned all of hers. The game was long, intense, and passionate. Everyone one's eyes were glued to either you or Saebyeok, the game forgotten in their eyes. Then, Saebyeok won the set, she had beat you. It was fair anyways, you beat her last season, it was her turn.

When Saebyeok went to pack up her things, she couldn’t stop her eyes drifting to you-where you were looking up at the stands with fans, signing things. That stupid smile still on your face, even after you lost. When you turned around, Saebyeok’s eyes met yours for just a second, then they moved back down to her bag.

Saebyeok practically stormed out of there, ignoring her coach congratulating her. How was it that she won, but you still had something over her? Saebyeok got into a cab, going to the only place she would find comfort.

As she stepped out onto the court, she felt an emotion she couldn’t quite place, not yet anyway. The ball machine shot balls straight at her, almost the way you hit them at her. Saebyeok let her frustrations out through her swings, why couldn’t she stop thinking about you. What broke her out of her overwhelming thoughts, was your voice. This had to be a joke.

“You're really practicing? You should be celebrating.” You said, with a teasing smile. Saebyeok’s head spun towards you, confusion written all over her face. “Well, you're here too aren’t you?” Saebyeok retorted back sharply, the sound of her voice catching you by surprise. Of course, you had heard her talk, just not to you.

“I didn’t win though.” You smiled, tilting your head. Saebyeok just let out a soft hum, her gaze moving down you then returning to your eyes. Your eyes widening slightly, did she really just check you out? Kang Saebyeok, your competitor, just checked you out-and she wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Saebyeok watched as all your playful teasing and confidence left, a smirk making its way onto her face. Now, she finally held the upper hand, she was in control. “You going to stand there or come play?” Saebyeok said, her tone taunting. You cleared your throat, giving her a small nod, walking to the other side of the net. She almost wanted to laugh, where was the girl whom she played earlier?

As Saebyeok hit the ball, you hit it back. But, your hits were lacking the sharpness from earlier, you almost looked distracted. “Don’t tell me you're letting me win?” Saebyeok smirked, twisting her racket in her hand.

“No, i’m just tired from earlier.” You huffed, lying through your teeth. The truth was, you were distracted. How were you supposed to play, when she was looking at you like that a few minutes ago? It made it impossible to keep your eye on the ball, when all you wanted to do was look at her.

When Saebyeok had won the set, she went up to the net to hand you the tennis balls. As she handed them to you, you could feel her cold fingers against your palm. This was on purpose, she wanted to get you distracted, she wanted you to feel the way her touch lingered. You kept eye contact with her, as she turned around walking back to the line, with that cocky smirk. Saebyeok was enjoying this, she found your one weakness. She found a way to throw you off, just like you had every time you managed to keep your friendly persona, no matter what.

“I need a break.” You announced, sitting on the floor, drinking your water. Pull yourself together, this is the same girl who's supposed to be your competitor. You could feel her taking the seat next to you, her presence alluring and looming. The only sound was both of you trying to catch your breath, her breath hot against the back of your neck. “Come on, we barely got started. Don’t tell me your tired already?” Saebyeok said, looking at you from the corner of her eye. This time she one hundred percent, was taunting you.

“I told you, i’m tired from our game earlier.” You finally looked up at her, rolling your eyes. When your eyes met hers, you realized just how close the two of you were sitting.

“Really? It seems to me, like you're distracted. Are you distracted?” Saebyeok smirked, her voice so intimate and quiet.

You couldn’t do anything but let out a shaky sigh. Then, you watched her eyes flick from your eyes, to your lips. Saebyeok was unapologetically staring at your lips, and you didn’t even mind. The tension was thick and you swear she could feel your heart race.

“It’s nice, hearing you so quiet. You talk too much, you should be like this more often.” Saebyeok muttered, the pad of her thumb tracing your jawline. You couldn’t form a coherent sentense, it was all too much. Where had this side of her come from? Not that you were complaining.

The game and both of your rackets, were long forgotten. Saebyeok was enjoying watching you squirm. “What would all your fans think? Seeing their star like this, with me?” Her smirk growing more, eyes locked on yours. You had no words to say, no thoughts but her. So, doing what any sane person would do in this situation, having this attractive girl in front of you, you kissed her. Your hands gripped her shirt, trying to pull her impossible closer. Saebyeok didn’t miss a beat, one hand on the back of your hand and the other on your waist.

All the pent up frustration against each other and all the tension, was being released into the kiss. You could still feel her smirk against your lips, she would’ve done this sooner if this was all it took to get the upper hand.

Saebyeok broke the kiss, tracing her thumb over your bottom lip. Without another word, she stood up walking away with her stuff. So, you sat there, confused and flustered. Did that really just happen? You kissed your biggest rival, on the court?

When you got home that night, you weren’t expecting a follow and a message from Saebyeok. “See you next game.” She might have won that time, but you always had next game.

[voxslays]

“Howdy, Striker!”

Featuring >>> Striker x Reader; In which, Reader catches Striker in the middle of a murder, and things escalate from there.

Warnings; Smut, Possibly Dub-Con, Striker is Striker.

A/N: Sorry for posting my latest part of Haztober so late, here is a special little gift for being so patient with me. I just watched episodes 3-7 of season 2…but 4 and 6…STRIKER!

It was a fine fall day out in the wrath ring. Still very hot, but starting to cool down as it got later into October. You were visiting for the Harvest Moon Festival, hoping to see one of your close friends compete. You were taking a shortcut by walking down an alleyway when suddenly you saw two imps fighting. As you got closer you realized who one of them was—Striker—A famous assassin and cowboy among wrath. “Give up vermin.” He growled at the other demon as he dealt one last blow to the head with his angelic knife. He watched as the imp bled, then turned towards you. “Hello there little one..” Striker grinned, showing his gold tooth. You quickly backed up. “Woah, Woah, Woah there cowboy…I was just leaving-!” You say, clearly panicking. Striker's grin widens, a dark amusement playing in his eyes. He takes a step closer, his heavy boots thudding against the ground. "Going so soon? You just got here. Besides, I haven't even had a chance to,” He pauses as he looks you up and down. He reaches out, his large, calloused hand wrapping around your wrist. His grip is firm, unyielding. He pulls you closer, his breath hot against your face. "…Ask you your name." He purrs, his voice low and menacing.

Your breathing grows heavier. ​​"Now, now, why are you breathing like that? Am I that intimidating, hmm?" He chuckles, his gold tooth glinting in the dim light. "Relax, I don't bite...Hard." He grins, his eyes glinting with a wicked amusement. He leans in closer, his nose brushing against your neck. He inhales deeply, his voice rumbling against your skin. "You smell... different.” He says, his southern accent ringing through the air. “Like flowers, not like the usual stench of this place. Intriguing..." He pulls back, his gaze meeting yours.

“I'm not from here.” You say as your breath hitches. "Clearly." He smirks, his thumb tracing circles on your wrist. "And what brings a sweet little thing like you to this godforsaken place, hmm?"  His eyes narrow slightly, suspicion flickering in them. “I’m just here to watch one of my friends compete in the festival.” Striker laughs. "The Harvest Moon Festival, eh?" He releases your wrist, taking a step back. "Well, ain't that just precious. Coming all this way to watch your little friend play pretend." He shakes his head, another harsh laugh escaping his lips. "You know, I was invited too. But me? In a festival? Might as well invite a wolf to a lamb convention." He chuckles darkly, his gaze returning to you. "But now that you're here, maybe my time won't be entirely wasted." He says, his voice filled with lust. 

You suddenly feel a deep blush coat your already rosy red cheeks. "Mmm, you're blushing. Cute." He grins, taking a step closer. His hand reaches up, his calloused fingers gently caressing your cheek. "Look at me like that again and I might just take you right here." Your blush deepens. His eyes darken with desire as he notices your even redder cheeks and quickened breath. In one swift motion, he pushes you against the nearest wall, his muscular body pinning you in place. His other hand grips your hip possessively.

You gasp in surprise, feeling an army of butterflies in your stomach. *His face hovers inches from yours, his hot breath mingling with yours. "Shh, just breathe," he whispers, his voice laced with dominant undertones. "I promise, I won't bite...yet." His hands begin to explore your body, slowly, tauntingly. His touch is firm, yet gentle, contradictions that send shivers down your spine. His voice drops to a low purr. "You're so responsive... It's intoxicating..." His southern drawl becoming more evident. His hands slip under your shirt, his calloused palms brushing against your bare skin. You can feel his erection pressing against you, a testament to his arousal. "See what you do to me?" he growls, nuzzling your neck.

His kisses become more urgent as you let out a few gasps and moans, his hands tightening on your hips. He grinds against you, a low growl rumbling in his throat. "You taste like honey," he murmurs, his voice hoarse with desire. "I bet you'd taste even sweeter elsewhere." His strong hands hoist you up, carrying you over to a nearby abandoned shack. He kicks the door open, carrying you inside. He lays you down on a pile of hay in the corner.  His eyes glint wickedly as he looks down at you.  "Now, where was I?"

He crawls over you, his hands pushing your skirt up. His fingers brush against your thighs, slowly parting them. "So innocent..." He kneels down between your parted thighs, his broad shoulders pushing them further apart. He flashes you a roguish grin before lowering his head, his warm breath tickling your core. "I think I'll start here." 

His tongue flicks out, tasting you. He growls in approval, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them open. He buries his face between your thighs, feasting on you like a man starved. His touch is rough, intense, mirroring his personality. "So good..." You cry out in pleasure. He doubles his efforts at your cry, his tongue delving deeper, lapping at your essence. His fingers dig into your soft flesh as he holds you in place, not letting you escape his relentless assault on your senses. He suckles your sensitive bud, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. 

He laps at you more insistently, drinking in your essence. His tongue delves deep inside, stroking your walls. He sucks hard on your clit, determined to make you fall apart. "That's it, scream for me," he growls against your sensitive flesh. He continues his onslaught, drawing out your release. As you come down from your high, he straightens up. His face is glistening with your juices, his eyes wild. He quickly begins to unbuckle his belt, his eyes never leaving yours. The leather hisses as it's pulled through the loops of his pants. He doubles it over, the ends dangling ominously. "You've been a good girl so far... But maybe it's time for a little..."

He leans down, his hands gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head. He wraps the belt around your wrists, securing you to the wooden beam above. He smirks at you, his face a mask of dark intent. "Now, where were we?" He drops to his knees, burying his face once more between your thighs. He ravishes you with his mouth, his tongue plunging deep inside. But this time, he brings his hand into play, his fingers joining his tongue. He pumps them in and out, scissoring them to stretch you. ​​He continues his relentless assault on your most intimate area. His fingers curl inside you, stroking your G-spot as his tongue lashes your clit. He can feel you tightening around him. Knowing you're close, he doubles his efforts, determined to push you over the edge into ecstasy. 

He feels your walls clenching around his fingers, your body trembling on the edge. He doubles his efforts, sucking your clit hard as he curls his fingers to stroke that special spot inside. He wants to feel you come undone, to hear you scream his name as pleasure overtakes you. He feels your body convulse, your inner walls gripping his fingers like a vice as you come undone. He doesn't let up, continuing his relentless assault until he's wrung every last drop of pleasure from you. Only then does he slowly withdraw, licking his lips with a satisfied grin. “Stiker!” You scream out. 

He stands up, his eyes burning with a dark hunger. He reaches for the belt still binding your wrists, undoing it and tossing it aside. He lifts you up, his strong arms supporting your weight. He carries you over to the table, setting you down on the surface with a thud. He steps between your legs, forcing them apart. His hands grip your backside, lifting you up and pulling you forward. He grinds against you, his hardness rubbing against your slick folds. "Look at me," he demands, his voice gruff with desire. You immediately look into his golden eyes. 

His eyes bore into yours, his gaze intense and possessive. He reaches down and spreads your lips open, revealing your dripping wet pussy to his hungry gaze. "So fuckin’ pretty," He growls, his voice now filled with lust and his classic southern accent. He lines himself up, the head of his dick pressing against your entrance. He slowly pushes inside, his eyes never leaving yours. He wants you to see who's taking you, possessing you completely. He grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he starts to move. He pulls out slowly, only to thrust back in harder, setting a steady, powerful rhythm.

His thrusts become more forceful, almost violent in their intensity. The table creaks beneath you as he pounds into you. "Take it," He snarls, his voice strained with pleasure. "Take every fuckin’ inch of my cock." He leans down, his chest pressing against yours as he continues to pound into you. He captures your lips in a rough, dominating kiss. His tongue forces its way into your mouth, claiming you utterly. He swallows your moans and cries, drinking in your pleasure like a true cowboy. He breaks the kiss, panting harshly. His hips never stop moving, driving into you with increasing force and speed. The room fills with the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and your moans. "Take it," He snarls greedily. 

He lifts you up, holding you aloft as he drives into you from below. He grins wickedly as he watches his length disappear inside you, over and over. He leans back slightly, changing the angle and making you gasp. "Oh, you like that? Good." He slams into you, finding that spot inside that makes your vision whiten. He sets a brutal pace, driving into you deep and hard. He watches where he's joined to you, his eyes glued to the point where he disappears into your heat. "You feel so good~” His face contorts with pleasure and concentration as he chases his release. His arms tighten around you, his hands clutching your bottom possessively. His breathing grows heavier, his movements more erratic. He's close. He leans forward, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. He bites down, the sharp pain pushing you both over the edge. He roars his release, burying his face against your neck as he spurts into you with one final thrust. 

He collapses forward, pinning you beneath his heavy, sweat-slicked body. He pants against your neck, his hips still twitching slightly with the aftershocks. After a long moment, he lifts his head to look at you, his eyes dark and sated. "Mmm..." Striker groans. He slowly pulls out of you, his softening length slipping free with a wet sound. He rolls to the side, pulling you with him so you end up draped across his broad chest. His large hand finds your back, stroking up and down possessively. "You did well.” He smirks cockily. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, an unusual sign of tenderness from him. He wraps both arms around you, his hold tightening protectively. "Rest now," Striker murmurs, his voice low and soothing.

[blorbocedes]

For the trope mash-up: didnt mean to turn you on + innocent physical touch for franco 'milf-hunter' colapinto and checo/lewis

okay hear me out. what if checo was a woman instead 🤭🫣

Checo's had a fucking year.

The car is shit. She's been saying for so long but now they finally believe it as even Redbull’s wunderkind Max struggles in it. Every other interview, news cycle is about her retiring, her being unceremoniously kicked out as drivers salivate for her seat, her middling performance due to early pre-menopausal hormones? Just 2 years ago, she was the Mexican Queen of Defense, and now it's 'is she Redbull’s DEI hire?' The stories have become outlandish, announcing her second pregnancy and retirement at Mexican Grand Prix. That's why after Daniel, who had very clearly been brought in to replace her, was switched mid season she posted the Wolf of Wall Street clip on her instagram to make it clear: I’m not fucking leaving.

So forgive her if she's been seeking a little respite elsewhere.

There's a hot, young Argentine at Williams that's been eyeing her. Checo’s a woman on the F1 grid, she's been eyed like that thousands of times, most of it unwanted. Although, it fell off after she birthed the twins and her tits never returned to their glory days. So it's a little flattering reminder she's still got it. Being able to speak in the same language also helps, not having to translate everything for doublespeak. They have rapport.

“How old are you?” Checo asks at the club. She's not there to celebrate, she just needs a drink. Franco’s at the stage where finishing a race is cause for celebration.

“Twenty five.” Franco replies in her ear entirely too quickly, with a grin.

Checo raised an eyebrow. She didn't keep track of the rookies but she sure as hell knew they weren't doing twenty five year old rookies anymore.

A group of tourists seem to recognize her, probably fans and she's in no autographing mood so she pulls Franco in closer in front of her, to block her five foot four self from the world. He misreads the signal, but is all too happy to step in closer; personal space be damned.

“Okay. I lied. I didn't want to freak you out.” Franco confesses sheepishly.

Checo drinks her whiskey, assessing it. “I was winning karting races while you were in diapers, yes?”

It makes her feel old just saying it. She doesn't know how Fernando does it.

Franco nods, pupils going dark.

“And…” she raises her left hand, eyes pointing to her wedding ring.

Franco smirks. “I don't mind if you don't.” He leans in for the kiss, and Checo leans back denying him. Too public. She's learned from that mistake. She does put her left hand on his nape, stroking it and praising the boldness. It's dangerous, sleeping with another driver. When you're a woman, it gives them too much power. That's why Checo never acted on Max's obvious interest. But Franco doesn't have a seat next year yet... as temporary and harmless to her prospects as it gets.

“Come on,” Franco’s voice betrays the frustration underneath the trying hard to be suave, “I know you're thinking it too. You'd rather be on a boat with me than this totally lame club. And what I might lack in experience, I can make up for in stamina.” He practically purrs in her ear.

“A boat? Williams is not paying you that much.” Checo laughs, even as she entertains the line about stamina. James is a penny pincher to a fault. And Franco might get F1 groupies impressed with that line, but as the primary breadwinner she knows a little better.

Franco’s undeterred. “Your boat then. I can be your yacht boy.”

Now wouldn't Checo love to be sunning on a boat, no kids running around, being waited on hand and foot by an eager, younger man who can go for round two in ten minutes. God, she hasn't been filled up in a satisfying way in so long, her cunt throbs at the fantasy, aided by the tall, warm body in front of her.

Checo bites her lower lip, and looks around. Nobody around them in paying attention to the dark corner they're in anymore. She takes Franco’s hand and places it over her breast, holding his gaze. For all his smooth-talking, Franco seems momentarily stunned, mouth parting in surprise. He has naturally red lips, Checo wants to bite on it. He tentatively squeezes her breast, and after seeing her nod, starts kneading it, thumb trying to find her nipple through the layers of her polo shirt and sports bra.

“Can I please eat you?” Franco’s voice is husky as he begs.

[swirlyyygal]

Beyond My Window

You can’t help but stare at him can you? I mean who wouldn’t. But will he stare back? Not with those damn tinted windows he won’t.

AU!Joel Miller x Neighbor!F!Reader

CW/TAGS: Joel is like 40’s-50’s, reader is early 20’s, no hair length/type mentioned, height diff (ur shorter), reader is in college, pining kinda?, Sarah and Ellie are mentioned but don’t play a major part, no y/n is used, a lot of pet names, SEXXX 🤤🤤🤤, ofc he puts his dih in, fingering, condom is on bc I’m not down with raw yet, dacryfilia if you squint (it’s not in a mean way), reader is not shaved bc I can’t care enough to make them shaved 💔🥀🕊️

A/N!! Hi hi!! I’m Mimi, ofc, and this is one of my first FULLLY DONE AND POSTED FANFICS!!! I had to do Joel Miller of flipping course bc 🤤🤤. Anyway!! I really hope y’all enjoy!! And don’t expect much since I’m still a noob at smut works.. (｡•́︿•̀｡) BTW NOT PROOFREAD BC LMAOOOOOO IM NOT DOING ALLAT

~~~

Early Spring was the best, you loved it, more than you loved any other season. But your Spring would be a bit different this year since a new neighbor had moved into your SoCal suburbs.

It was maybe late December when he decided to show up. The moving van hard to miss after your old ass neighbor moved out and was replaced with a whole HELLL OF A MAN. Scruffy black hair and a beard to match. All wrapped up in a coat as the boxes piled off the truck. You, being nosy, decided to try and look through the front window to spy and that was the first mistake you had EVER MADE. Even just catching a glimpse of him made your heart stop and a deep breath go down your lungs.

You caught what you could from him, no ring thank the heavens. And managed to find out little tidbits from his life when your mom and dad had ever so graciously brought him some leftover treats. He met you on his front door with a small smile on his face. And crows feet, OUGHHHH. His name was Joel Miller, carpenter. He was a single dad with two daughters not much older than you, Sarah and Ellie. They were out on their own though, and he had just moved all the way from Texas.

As well as the fact that he has a little brother and like you had confirmed before, no misses!! The more you found out about him the more you wanted to keep the conversation going. But it was getting late and your parents just decided to hit the hay. You wistfully waved goodbye. As he did the same.

That was 4 months ago. In those 4 months it wasn’t like much had changed, on some mornings you’d see him on his porch while you were about to drive to your classes. “Mornin’ darlin’..” That Southern drawl doing something to you that you never wanted.

Or in late afternoons when you’d return and he’d shoot you a friendly wave. Nothing much. But it wasn’t until 2 months ago when you found out a hack.

You see, your room had a BIGG ass window going straight into his backyard. Windows tinted by your careful parents that didn’t want your previous neighbor accidentally peaking through.

You could see out, while he couldn’t see in, and it was perfect. You viewed him from a distance when he was outside just kinda doing whatever. Mowing his small patch of grass, sunbathing, working on whatever carpentry thing he was doing, or even catching him working out a bit.

And every time you looked outside was another time when you had to bite back a moan and stop yourself from thinking something perverted, still, your thoughts got the better of you always and you would always just have to calm that itch.

Don’t get me wrong! Every time after you felt guilty, but DAMN WAS HE FINE. As you were knuckles deep you couldn’t stop imagining what he would actually be like. Was he one of those rough lovers? Or was he gentle? You couldn’t, and honestly, didn’t wanna know. You basked in the fact that you knew almost nothing about his personal life, and that left an open hole for you to fill.

Now it’s Spring Break, like I said over a dozen times. The breeze was cool and it wasn’t hot, at all, thank the lord. You opened the window to catch it, staring up at the clouds before going right back to scrolling on your phone. The house being a bit quiet since your parents were out on a little getaway while your brother stayed playing games in the room across from yours.

In your little daze you had then heard the sound of a door shutting and a radio being turned on. The song playing was just something old school, you couldn’t really tell, but it was kinda catchy.

Turning your head to the window you then saw him in his backyard. Tight grey t-shirt, a pair of dark denim jeans, and boots? Oh whatever you weren’t gonna judge. Judging no, but staring, yeah. You watched as he sat in an old chair, chiseling away at some wood sculpture he’s got going on.

Every time he chipped down on that thing you just couldn’t rope your eyes away from his fatass forearms and biceps. And that watch on his wrist made you CRAZYYYY.

No more watching, you thought, no more. You needed to talk to him, I mean, you knew he probably wouldn’t think something like that of you but, it was just friendly talk? Right? And you didn’t wanna lose a chance considering how many ladies were after him. I mean, there was no way, all the moms, married and divorced fancied him a bit too much. Even your own mom had said something about his looks.

“Hi Mr. Miller!!”

You yelped from your window, heart racing. He looked around for a minute, wondering where the hell it was coming from before his attention turned to you and he sighed in relief.

“Phew.. Oh hey hon, thought the angels were callin’ me for a minute.. How ‘ya doin’?”

Your heart pumped more than it should.

“Fi-Fine Mr. Miller!! Just wanted to feel the breeze today, I really like the Spring ‘cause of it!!”

Stuttering over your words you itched, hoping you didn’t sound stupid. Thankfully no one else heard around you, just him and you alone, it felt, romantic almost to talk to him from between a window and a brick fence.

“Yeah, yeah the weather is real good ‘round here.. But what’cha doin? Shouldn’t ya be at classes?..”

You shook your head.

“No no, I’m on break!”

You would be out with friends right now, but they were all busy for the first few days so you had a lotta free time. He gave you an ‘aaa’ and nodded, smiling cause he forgot something so obvious. There was a moment of quiet, a moment of just radio silence between you two before you spoke up.

“Would you like a popsicle? We have cherry, blue raspberry, lemon, or grape!!”

Please say yes please say yes…

“Well I wouldn’t mind allat much, come on over.. Oh and, any is fine..”

YESSSSSSSS!!

You nodded and closed your window, quickly grabbing two of them from the fridge before stopping at the door.

“Imma bring the neighbor a snack!! Don’t worry if I’m gone too long!!!”

You yelled to your brother before he dismissed you.

The gate that entered into his backyard was right next to your own front door so it wasn’t hard to get in. Slipping through the opened bars as you placed both treats down on his table.

“Hi Mr. Miller..”

You already said that, stupid. You beat yourself up. He looked you up and down, not judging, just kind of analyzing your look. You weren’t the most dressed if being honest. But like why would you? You were lazing around at home so all you were gonna be wearing was a loose striped tank and lounge shorts. He’s lucky this wasn’t one of those days where you were just in your underwear.

“Hi darlin’”

He smiled before taking one off the table. Unwrapping the white packaging to reveal a grape one. He smiled and licked a line, then took a big chunk outta it. Eugh. I mean, you could get used to it.

He let the stick rest in his hands as he sighed a good relief.

“Shoot.. Didn’t know how much I needed that, thanks sugar..”

He smiled.

Andddddd your panties already wanted to drop to the floor.

“Oh no problem Mr. Miller, I mean, you were all hot so I couldn’t just leave you there.. We have a whole ton, we just kinda don’t get around to eating them all..”

He nodded, watching you as you began to unwrap yours as well. Cherry. And now he knew he had to be subtle with his looks.

Unconsciously you began to suck the popsicle like any normal human being, but something inside you said to make it super extra. And you weren’t gonna stop your mind. So you did, making a bit of extra noise as you engulfed in the cherry flavor. Letting it go with a pop and resting it along your tongue.

Aw man.. It was gonna be harder to hold back than he wanted it to be. Ya see, Joel was an honest and polite man. WHO hadn’t been with a woman in many years. And if being honest, he sorta thought you were cute ever since he moved in. Watching you stand awkwardly next to your welcoming family and toying with the fabric of your hoodie on that cold Winters day. And ever since then he savored every moment he saw you.

On your way to class every morning? He made sure he was up early enough to see it. Coming home in the evening? Finding every excuse to be outside. And by doing so he managed to notice very subtle things about you. He noticed how in the mornings you would stumble on your porch steps going down. And when you’d come back sometimes you forgot to roll up your window.

He got so desperate to see you more that sometimes he’d drop by to ask your mom or dad if they wanted to have a barbecue. But you were always busy with class or friends, your brother the same if not on his computer, and your parents at work. He tried many many times, but every time no luck. So now that he was getting the chance to finally see you after some brief meetings. AND SO CLOSE, AND SUCKING A POPSICLE. Like a dream come true.

Also. Those windows. You see, tinted windows work good, unless there is an inner light source. Usually he couldn’t see in, but when even a lamp was on, he could just barely make out your body. Sneaking glimpses while in his backyard as he watched you change, just barely being able to make out the arch of your back and the plumpness of your boobs. You, of course were completely oblivious because “oh I have tinted windows he can’t see”

He saw you do many things other than change too like: study, draw, dance, take pictures of yourself, normal stuff But what he was super guilty about, he’d caught you masturbating. It was supposed to be a one time thing when he saw you do it, but every single time you did, you kept those curtains open and a lamp on.. And he couldn’t help but he see. He hated that he saw, and he hated how rock hard it got him… He hated how perverted to made him feel, hating how he would have to palm himself in his jeans while inconspicuously staring. Yet, he loved how you looked when you did it.

Back on the popsicle thing, the act in itself wasn’t dirty, but this old man had thoughts and these thoughts were dangerous. His mind wandered to you sucking his dick, he wanted to know what it would feel like for your pouty lips to wrap around the length. Biting his tongue, he took another nibble at his own popsicle, gripping the stick in frustration.

This was gonna be a long talk if he kept imagining you like this, he couldn’t just latch on, no way a girl as pretty as yourself would be down with an old man like him. But, that’s all you wanted. You wanted him as much as he wanted you and that’s what made it awkward.

You kept on with the popsicle, dragging it down your mouth and almost choking on it. When he saw, and heard it, it was almost like his whole world was about to collapse and he could feel his pants get a bit tight. He tried to tuck it under his palm, and even pull his shirt down, but no luck. He knew it was sorta obvious, and he hoped and prayed you didn’t notice. But it was hard. And painful to see and hear you going crazy on that thing. Thank the lord his morals were strong because if they were any weaker, he’d jump all over you and admit his feelings right then and there.

“Well- Why don’t ya come inside?.. I need to go in anyway and grab my sandpaper..”

He needed a distraction so he could get this thing away.

He almost stuttered, and that made him all the more attractive. You liked how real he seemed, he wasn’t all tough and angry and shallow all the time, he was just someone.

And with a quick nod you stepped in through his sliding glass door. Inside was, cute actually. Think of like a house stuck in 2008, that’s what it was. Something of the sort you’d see in a Tuscan style home.

A warm yellow light emitted from the lamp and everything was a bit messy, but it seemed so perfectly messy that you thought it was set up. Lining the walls you saw pictures of him, his daughters, and pictures of them together. Then the trophies they won, it was cute to see all of them in a nice glass display, which mind you, looked freshly dusted so you knew he cared a LOT about those girls.

“I’ll be searchin’ for it, don’t go lookin’ where you shouldn’t alright?..”

He gave you a lopsided smile, you nodded and sat down on his couch. Swaying your feet back and forth to distract from the fact you were IN HIS HOUSE. A glimpse into his more personal life.

As soon as he saw you sit down he ran into his bathroom and locked the door. Taking a few deep breaths, he fumbled with the zipper of his jeans and almost ripped his boxers. Letting his cock out, he leaned back against the cold marble sink. It was wrong. It was dirty to jerk off to the memory of you sucking a popsicle, guilt overwhelmed him, but something else overwhelmed him and that was lust.

He hadn’t been this hard in a longgg time. He forgot how painful the strain was, and he forgot just how sensitive it got. Using his left hand to cover his mouth he gripped the base, jolting before aggressively stroking it. He had a pattern for this kinda thing, and a specific way he did it because he knew it felt good. But not with you, not now. The throbbing hurt so bad that he just HAD to go off the rails. Thrusting his hips into his hand to match the pace.

“You feel too good darlin’..”

His muffled groans not going unnoticed by you. He didn’t realize how loud he was. But they just kind of sounded like frustration from your distance. And they were, but not in the way that you thought. And damn if those noises weren’t making you wet. A small buzz of pleasure roped through your body and into your mind when you heard those groans. Imagining all sorts of dirty things and your daydreams were gonna go CRAZY now that you knew what he could sound like.

Thighs clenching together you fought the urge to touch yourself. That would be gross, your in his living room, on his couch, in his home, listening to some non specific groaning noises. Touching yourself to that would be obscene. But. He was taking a long time, you could just rub yourself over your lounge shorts. Like, he wouldn’t even notice!!

Slowly you looked around and spread your legs. Hands traveling to the thin material outside of the shorts. Your head turned left and right, trying to make sure sure you wouldn’t get caught. Your hands finally reached the apex of your thighs as you rubbed in neat circles, listening to the non discript groaning from down the hall. A twitch shakes your legs before you finally get a pattern going, clockwise and then counter-clockwise.

You’d imagined him on top of you before, it wasn’t a crazy thing to imagine, but something about this was more evil and made you feel even nastier. You were in his house, listening to him. That was crazy, this was crazy in itself but it didn’t seem to matter or care. You used your free hand to grip onto the throw blanket just kind of hanging off the cushions and stabilized yourself.

Meanwhile he was gripping onto his lower jaw to make sure he didn’t let out a moan that could shake the whole house. Precum dripped down from his tip and his breath was heavy and heaving.

“Her lips.. Her lips.. Damnnit why couldn’t she just bring me a soda or something.. Why’d it hafta be a popsicle..”

Mumbling on and on to himself while you were making sure nothing left your mouth. Hoping and praying that the door wouldn’t swing open all of a sudden and that he could see you doing this. The shorts not much more of a layer than your panties, so you pretty much felt it right on you.

You could feel the wetness on your panties stick to your skin. And how the fabric acted as a second skin considering how thin it was. You could even feel the hardness of your clit when you rubbed.

“Mr. Miller…”

A moan escaped your lips.

You heard the groaning stop, the sound of a sink being turned on and off, and the sound of a lock being fumbled with.

AHHHHH

Quickly, faster than you ever had before you jolted upright and threw the blanket to the side. Rubbing your hand on your tank top just incase and flattening your hair down so it didn’t look like you had just been jerking on his couch.

He walked out, disheveled and panting. His pants a bit crinkled, belt gone, and his right hand soaked in water?

“Coul— Couldn’t seem to find the sandpaper.. Any-anyway why’d ya call? Somethin’ happen? Ya see a roach?”

He could have used that to jerk off more, but he knew that it would get way too obvious if he stayed in there so long.

He stared you up and down, raising a brow at your frazzled appearance. As well as the fact that your tank top was bunched up at the bottom, while simultaneously the strap on your left shoulder was falling down and almost revealed your chest.

“You alright?.. You look like you just swam for the Olympics.. And you look a little warm..”

He began to get closer.

“I’m fine.. But.. Why is one of your hands wet..?”

You looked at him with curious eyes, there were two reasonable explaintions. The sandpaper was in a tub of water, or his hand got super dirty while looking so he had to wipe it off. But. Another reason that seemed more likely came to your mind.

No way he was touching himself though? Thats stupid. Why would he? It’s just you and him around.

“Well I asked you first didn’t I? So why? Why ar’ you soundin’ like you just did 20 laps?..”

He was well played. And you had to lie. Something logical.

“Well.. I saw a bug and I ran around trying to avoid it.. Plus it was mad hot..”

He gave you a knowing look.

“The AC is well and on. And I don’t get bugs. Trust me I’d know..”

He got more suspicious now.

He sighed and sat down next to you, leaning back against the fabric and giving you a gentle smile.

“Look if you were snoopin’ and didn’t wanna get caught, I’d rather you just sa—“

“I was touching myself.”

You blurted out.

Silence.

“Haa?”

You weren’t that good at keeping secrets, or lying. It left such a guilty conscience on your mind that you just always HAD to let it out. Popping his ear just to clear.

“Repeat that for me again? Didn’t— AHEM— Didn’t quite hear that..”

He took a deep cough in the middle of his sentence. Hoping and praying what you said was a fluke. But deep down. He wanted it to be true.

“I was.. Touching.. Myself.”

Guilt racked you and made you admit it. He furrowed his brows together in confusion and began to chuckle. Slapping his knee as his cheeks filled with a slight blush. He couldn’t BELIEVE what this girl had just said. And why?!

“FOR WHY?!”

He gave you a smile and was trying not to laugh. But damn was he bad at that. He only laughed because this was so awkward. You were looking down at your thighs in shame and regret. To make sure he didn’t see those tears of embarrassment, and to make sure you didn’t leave a wet stain on his couch.

“I don’t wanna tell.. It’s too embarrassing..”

Majorly strained voice, no higher than a whisper. He patted your back.

“Look I ain’t gonna tell your family, so just spit it out.. Whatever ya say is safe with me, Kay”

His warm look was enough to make you wanna say everything.

“I heard you.. Groaning and when I did I just kinda.. Went from there and.. Maybe it’s cause I always thought you were nice looking, but I couldn’t help myself.”

Oversharing.

“I’m reallll sorry Mr. Miller…”

His look got even more confused when he listened to your explanation. You thought he was ATTRACTIVE?! His heart burst but he had to keep quiet.

Clearing his throat he shook his head.

“Look.. It’s okay.. It’s normal for college kids to have weird crushes like this.. No big deal. I won’t tell nobody just.. Just don’t do something wreckless again like that, a’right? And especially not in their house..”

You nodded. He smiled and you smiled.

“I didn’t cum.. If that makes you feel any better”

He almost died right then and there.

“And why are you tellin’ me that?”

Quiet. This was like some bad porno. To be honest you wanted it to end that way.

“What? You tellin’ me you didn’t cum so I can finish the job?..”

You nodded.

“Maybe..”

His face got even more confused, as well as shocked. WHAT. This was a joke, some sick kinda joke that would end up on the internet.

He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. Giving a lopsided smile he exhaled.

“Oh quit playin’.. This isn’t what you want.. I’m sure there’s some nice, smart, intellectual college boy you’ve got wrapped round ya finger..”

You never found the boys at your college attractive. I mean, some of them were mighty fine. But none of them like him. None of them had that same southern twang, none of them had that muscle to them, none of them had grey around the beard and the scalp.

None of them were him.

“Didn’t wan’ em.. Didn’t fit my criteria, they didn’t look like you..”

He itched at his head. Crouching over and resting his shoulders on his knees. What the hell WHAT THE HELLLLL. This was a test of his morals. Sure they were strong, stronger than anyone you had ever met. But. He was weak when it came to a pretty thing like yourself.

His mind flashed with images of you before this incident. Seeing you walk out the house with a ribbon in your hair and watching it almost fly off in the breeze. The bandana you wore like some kinda farm girl on the way to the store. That gaze you gave him during one of your neighborhood block parties from afar. How you wouldn’t latch your eyes off of him while taking a sip of your soda.

Then it hit him. You were always looking for, or looking at him. Atleast, during the times you came across each other. He remembered it now. 

Your stares when he mowed his lawn. Batting your lashes at him when you came over to borrow some batteries. That extra long look you gave him before getting in your car, taking a rather long time to get into the drivers seat.

And how all those times you bit your lip when you caught him fixing something in his front yard. It wasn’t just his imagination. It was real, a sign almost to OH LORD SHE WANTS ME.

He sat up and sighed, looking at your unsuspecting face just kind of admiring his features.

“Okay, alright.. Tell ya what. I’ll.. Finish you off. But don’t expect it to be good.. I’m all rusty on my skills.. AND. You cannot tell NOBODY.”

You looked even more shocked what he said yes. WHAT. You thought you were gonna get kicked out, or worse, he’d tell your family and they’d totally throw you out. NOT THAT HE WAS GONNA HELP YOU BUST?!

He studied your expression. Waiting for a “yes”, or a “no ew back the hell up old perv”

But the look you gave him was worse. It was needy, a downturned brows kinda look with a pouty lip.

“I don’t expect nothing big.. I just want you.. Please Mr. Miller.. If it’s not too much trouble.. I won’t tell anybody, not anyone at all..”

GRAHHHHH. That look on your face and your tone made him fall all over himself and want to loose it. But he stayed strong.

“Right. Uh.. Shorts off, leave them panties on..”

He got nervous. And you could already tell how tight his jeans were getting.

You nodded, shimmying off that flimsy excuse for shorts and leaving them on his floor. Spreading your legs and sitting. Just waiting.

He knew he had to be gentle. No way someone like you could handle something rough is what ran through his mind.

He got closer. Grabbing you by your waist and settling you on his left leg. He lifted you like you were a vine of grapes. RELEASE MEEE.

Letting his left hand rest on your ass while the other gentle began to itch up your thigh. He noticed the wet stain on your panties. So you weren’t lying.

“You know how these things go right?.. I’d assume so..”

You knew, from fanfiction and the internet of course. And even in real time. You didn’t have many encounters with sex, maybe once or twice, but never had they given you what you wanted.

“Mhm.. I’ll be good..”

Whispering to him. He groaned.

“Jesus you can’t say stuff like that..”

You felt the bulge in his pants. Holy flip.

Well, feel was an overstatement. It was lightly grazing you. But even from that graze you could already tell he was ROCKKKK.

His hand finally stopped roaming up your thigh and slipped to the waistband of your cream colored panties. Pulling them down so they stopped at your knee. He watched as you spread them wider, slightly grinding into the fabric of his jeans and his muscular thigh.

“I’m gonna start now..”

He took a deep breath and brought his middle and pointer finger to your sopping cunt. Not putting them in but just feeling around at your folds.

You gasped, still sensitive from just a few minutes ago. You looked down, watching his move them around and gather up your arousal on his digits. His grip on your ass firm.

He began to lead his fingers round your clit, running circles clockwise, then counterclockwise. It was like your usual pattern, but for some reason, it felt so much more intense. You fought back your moans, trying not to scream out his name just yet.

He noticed this and began to press firmly against your clit, causing a shock to your body that made your jerk.

“Now stop all that.. No one’s home and you’re not gonna be that loud to the point the neighbors are gonna hear.. If you keep holding back those noises I’ll stop right now..”

His voice got gruff. Like his jaw was clenching or something. You gave him a nod and started to let out soft whimpers. Soft whimpering that seemed so loud because you were so damn close. So close that when you leaned back for support he was right there, a strong body for you to rest on while he did the work.

He applied pressure on your clit by pinching your pussy together. Honestly you couldn’t even consider it pinching because it was so gentle. Hips wriggling, it was an involuntary action.

His technique was good, and his calloused fingers added a bit of texture to it too. He wasn’t rusty at all. I mean. He could go pro with it, and that was just from his FINGERS.

Your breathing got heavy and you turned your eyes to the side, pleading with him silently.

He got the message, snaking his fingers down to your hole before he put his middle finger in. So he was the slow type. The type that took his time with ladies. And you lived for that. You lived for a man that could wait. And he was willing to wait all he wanted, just for you to cum.

His middle finger rested there. Setting in between your walls before he moved it out and in inch by inch. He started slow, not moving it out too much, more just shaking it inside. But as he noticed you relax, that’s when he began to really put in the work.

His fingers were thick, like, hella thick. So you already felt pretty full. Hand gripping his grey tee as your mouth fell agape, you couldn’t believe how it felt. It didn’t feel real in all honesty.

“Feels like your bouta’ rip my finger off..”

He looked down at your hands, your fingers not small, but not nearly as big and thick as his. He pitied you for that. He thought, if you had just come to him sooner, he’d help you out. He’d soothe the ache between this poor girls legs.

He laughed, pushing that middle digit in and out. This time, eliciting actual moans from you rather than just whimpers. This was his way of coaxing you into it, opening you up, stretching you out type thing.

“Were you turnin’ that light on and leaving the curtains open on purpose?..”

He instigated, gaining a bit of confidence by the way you were reacting to his consistent pace. You could just HEARRR it in his tone, not cocky, just more self assured in his ways. Slowly but surely he began to tease the second finger around. Not putting it in just yet but waiting for the right moment.

“Well.. Did ya?.. I won’t tell.. Just admit it. You left it open on purpose huh?..”

You couldn’t even register what he was talking about before he slipped the his pointer finger in as well. Now being filled up twice as much as before. You moaned, loud. Loud enough for it to give a small echo.

“I-I didn’t mean to.. I just—-I guess I did want you to see at some point..”

You shamefully admitted. Barely able to speak through that last moan. At some point you did just stop caring if he saw or not. You didn’t mind. You just didn’t expect him to be looking.

He nodded. Then began pumping his fingers inside again. He watched as your eyes glued shut and your mouth stayed open. Letting out terrible noises you would have never thought would come out.

“This fulfill your little nighttime fantasy?.. Your fantasy of getting finger-fucked by your neighbor who’s way too old to be doin’ this? Yeah? That it?”

He started to get really talkative, and the more he talked the more he pumped. The pace was getting fast and it wasn’t painful at all. It felt like heaven. You felt full with just his two fingers deep inside and his coarse palm rubbing against your clit. He would pump, then break to cup your warmth, then keep pumping again. He was even better than you imagined.

“Mhm mhm!!”

You nodded in ecstasy. Your squirming became unbearable and you were unconsciously grinding into his thigh. Leaving a fairly noticeable wet spot on the denim jeans that he would enjoy looking at later.

“Full Mr. Miller…”

Whining out. But that was the opposite. It was too little. You hadn’t even came yet but you knew that when you did, it wouldn’t be enough. His fingers were good, but they could only last you so long before you needed something bigger. You didn’t wanna be greedy though, so you tried to shut your mouth.

“Aww I know I know.. Angel can’t handle it can she?..”

You hadn’t seen this side of him. He wasn’t being mean or condescending. But he was being talkative, and, not all awkward or lonesome. He was good at dirty talk, dangerously good. His fingers began to do a scissoring motion inside of you which made your body tense and shift on his lap.

He kissed your cheek softly. Going from there to down the side of your neck and resting on the back where he left soft pecks and little love bites. He was careful though, careful not to make anything too noticeable.

“Can’t hold it.. Mr. Miller please-“

You pleaded. You had felt your body tighten in a specific way that you knew. Throwing your head back against his shoulder he lifted his head up and nodded.

Chuckling innocently before ramming his fingers in as deep as they could, before pumping them in and out and in and out. He knew and he just wanted to mess with you for a little. Almost immediately after he gave you the go you came undone. Back arching up and body bucking into his palm, throwing your hips in rotation to ride out your orgasm.

And he watched it alll. He knew how you looked when you came, but this was with an added kick because he was right here, and the one doing it. Made him prideful. He waited till you came down back on his thigh again before pulling them out and tapping your wet sex with his palm.

It was between a tap and a slap, not hard, but not soft. It let a few extra jolts to come out of your body and even gave him a couple mewls of pleasure.

You caught your breath, letting yourself go limp against him. Turning your head fully to face him he turned to face you as well.

And you looked a mess.

Frazzled hair, droopy-teary eyes, downturned brows, a line of drool seeping from the side of your lips. All that combined with your heaving chest and dripping slit, he couldn’t have wanted a better sight.

He took his wet fingers and brought them to his lips. Licking them clean.

You always had cringed at the thought of someone doing that, but now you started seeing the appeal..

“You did so good sugar.. Took it so well..”

He patted your stomach.

Smiling.

But..

“Mr. Miller..”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me.”

Your voice way needy, strained, and desperate. As well as coming out of the blue. He gave you wide eyes and a reassuring stare.

“I don’t think you can handle it.. You’re worn out and I don’t want you to over-exhaust yourself.. It might hurt..”

He was so kind, so genuine. But you didn’t care about that right now. Right now, what you needed was to bounce on it crazy style.

“Mr. Miller, please I really need it.. I was good wasn’t I?.. I took it all in without complaining..”

In his eyes, that was a heck of a good argument. He sighed and smiled. Resting you against the couch before standing up, stretching his back like he had strained it or whatever. Old man..

He then walked over to the side table next to the couch, rummaging through before finding a silver packaged condom.

You watched his hands go to the zipper of his pants, unzipping the fly and hopping out of his jeans. Then bringing his boxers down to his knees slowly, his cheeks turning a soft red.

“Been a while since someone’s seen me all nude.. Ain’t nothin’ impressive..”

Nothing impressive was such a fat lie. IT LOOKED LIKE IT WAS HEAVYYYYY. Around 6 inches, but thick in girth, with a vein running up the side.

He didn’t shave, no surprise there. Didn’t really expect him to anyway.

“It’s not gonna fit, no way no way…”

You gasped, he chuckled, blushing even more at almost nothing.

He grabbed the condom again and ripped the packaging with ease, taking it out and slowly putting it on his length. And that thing was SOLID. It scared you a TON. He was hung, and thick, a dangerous combination.

He walked closer towards you, grabbing from under your armpits and lifting you too him.

“Up and at ‘em..”

He smiled, once again lifting you like you didn’t weigh a single pound.

Your head spun when he did, still a bit woozy from just having an orgasm not more than 6 minutes ago. He made you wrap your legs round his waist, one hand holding you by your waist while the other cradled the back of your head in such a doting way.

“I’m bouta put it in.. But slow, can’t have you in pain now can I?”

He leaned over to kiss under your eye.

He slowly began to adjust you to line your hole up with his dick. You whined, even just that small amount of contact made you all sensitive. His smirk got bigger before he slowly placed the tip in.

And when he did, IT HURTTT. Like I said he was girthy, so it already felt like he was splitting you down the middle.

You leaned into him, head burying against his shoulder and nails leaving crescent shaped indents on his back through the shirt. He patted your back, whispering.

“Ya want me to take the time, or just get it all over with?”

“All— All over with.. Pleasth..”

Your words came out in a drunk tone, with most of your pronunciation being slurred through pain and pleasure.

Anxiously, he let both his hands firmly grip your waist, digging his fingers into the soft of your skin.

You heard him mumble to himself “3, 2, 1!..” and as soon as it hit one he pushed it all in. Using his stupidly strong arms to pull you down onto him completely.

It was such a strange feeling, a sharp pain. A full feeling dwelled within you. Your mouth fell agape and bit into his clothed shoulder. A circular spit stain left on the grey color. The crescents on his back got deeper, he felt them prick and just hoped you didn’t knick his skin. Tears fell from the corners of your eyes, slowly making yourself turn your head up to face him with a teary and pained expression.

Now looking at him. And here you were.

Where you had wanted to be for the part 4 months.

He saw the tear and have you a pouty smile, kissing it away before then going to kiss your cheek, then the cheek kiss got lower and fully reached your lips. He pulled you into an intense kiss, tongue wrapping around his as you kissed him back with that same amount of passion.

He could smell your candy scented perfume and you swore he got harder, might’ve been impossible but you swore it happened

He had all the skills for intimacy, but he never got to use it. And now he was finally getting it to good use. The deeper he kissed you the more you felt your eyes roll back, not closed anymore, but barely able to see anything except the ceiling and pure white.

He pulled away from the kiss regretfully, but needing to catch his breath or else he’d suffocate and die.

“How’s it feel? Still hurtin’?”

Taking a hand to place on top of your head, he really was a caring man. And on top of that he was big. Arms big, legs big, cock big, it was all too good to be true.

“A little..”

You winched, it was painful but by the second the pain was slowly melting away the more you got used to be.

“If it’s too much I’ll pull out—“

You shook your head. You both stayed there for a moment. His hands holding you up while your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. Staring into each others soul. His barely hanging on expression while you already looked fucked out. It was peaceful, till he gripped your waist again and shot you a look.

You took the look and understood, giving him the thumbs up before slowly pulling you up. Whining in pain, but the pain was only a little by this time. Now it was just pleasure.

Watching as he began to slowly bounce you up and down, it started small, not pulling you up any much more than an inch. Watching as the veins on his hands begin to pop out as he held himself back and held you up.

He reached the deepest part of your walls, tears spilling from your eyes from the intense warm feeling. He watched them fall.

“Aw it’s okay.. You’re alright baby.. I’m here I’m here..”

He spoke with that reassuring tone that itched the best place inside of you, you didn’t know why. He was so kind in this moment, so different than the people you had previously been with. Maybe this was why people liked older guys? How they knew how to treat a lady, how they knew which spots to hit. Sniffling, you wiped your eyes. It didn’t really stop the water works but it stilled them for a moment.

“Move me more… I wanna move more, more..”

Whiny, needy, and pathetic tone. Wanting to hold onto something, so your hand ran through the back of his hair.

Shaking his head again, like some type of habit he repositioned his hands. Both of them held the area under your knees and gripped to keep it stable. Slowly, he began to bounce you up and down. With every single thrust you felt so incredibly full. Like your walls were molding to fit his.

It was so weird..

To hear the noises, to hear his labored breathing, to hear your own moans. It was so scary when you realized that he was literally actually seriously fucking you. How the hell were you gonna explain this to your family? Friends even..

But that was pushed to the back part of your mind when you felt his pace quicken a bit inside of you. You didn’t know how he could do that, I mean, you were airborne, and he was able to bounce you crazy. Something about you made his stamina grow back x20. He did watch porn on the occasion, but got tired of it real fast. It was so fake, so stupid, but you. You were real. You were able to give him that crazy hard on from just a gaze.

“That fast enough for ya doll?.. Yeah, ain’t it?..”

A deep chuckle came from his throat. This is what he needed. Sure he wasn’t that guy that only chased after girls below his age, and when he first began to realize how cute you were he was completely wracked with anguish. Now that was all down the drain with your pussy wrapped round his cock, begging and crying for him.

You could barely respond to his question, if you did open your mouth all you’d do was moan. So you lazily nodded as he bucked his hips into your own. The hair above his cock and his happy trail rubbing against your clit every time he bounced you up and down. It added an extra sensation that warmed your nerves.

You were slick, messy, dirty, your tank top barely hanging on with every last string of fabric. And he was no better. He was even worse if you could go that far.

His pace relentless. Upper arms tightening and veins popping out every single time. His shirt sleeves almost ripping. You felt like a ragdoll the way he was moving you. And worst of all, you liked feeling like a ragdoll.

Suddenly you felt your back get a bit warm, his ac was on, so what was that about? Then you noticed the light reflecting off his skin that wasn’t covered by you. In fear you turned your head around to see the window WIDE OPEN NO CURTAINS WHATSOEVER.

It was on the side of his house so you didn’t have to worry too much about that, but something else wracked you. Heart dropping when you realized his living room window faced almost directly across from your brothers bedroom window. He noticed your expression and turned to see it too.

But. He didn’t stop…

Infact his grip got even worse to the point where you thought red hand marks were gonna be left under your legs.

“Ahh he ain’t gonna notice.. Too busy on the game..”

You protested, well, almost protested before he clicked his tongue. Taking his left and gripping your lower jaw to turn his face towards him. The grip was firm but not painful, just very stern. He wanted you to look at him, and he wanted you to look at him real good. To distract you from everything else and to only look at him. I mean. He was the one inside of you.

The risk of getting caught only heightened the experience. Teary eyes staining his grey fabric and hands. He continued to pound into you like a man starved, cause he was. The sound of wet skin slapping filled his living room and the smell of both your signature scents were a nice mix to eachother. But you could barely breathe so how were you gonna be able to tell?

“Should’a made a move on me angel.. You can’t even imagine how cute you are to me..”

Feverish tone, with every pump elicited a guttural moan. Globs of spit oozed from the side of your mouth and your hair bounced with every thrust. Tears couldn’t falling. It was so intimate. You felt the insides of your body tighten and a familiar hot feeling take over your body.

That same feeling you felt when you were just about done touching yourself. But this time it felt more intense, like it hurt.

Your pussy tightened around his twitching length as your gaze tried to focus on his.

“Gonnacumgonnacumgonnacum pleasepleasepleaseplease…”

You begged quicker than you ever had before in your life. Even though you were majorly out of breath, and your vision blurred, you knew you had to hold on to make sure this orgasm really counted.

“You can you can.. I’m right here so cum..”

He used that warm tone and reached a hand down in between your legs, careful not to lose his balance with one hand and drop you. His fingers began to move back and forth around your clit while the pace got heavy and fast.

He was evil for that, evil for his fingers on your clit and evil for the pace change. And then it hit.

This was unlike any kind of orgasm you had ever done to yourself before. Not like the ones with your vibrator, not like the ones with your finger, and not like the ones with your previous relationships. This was something entirely and completely strange, more intense.

The wave of pleasure hit you like a ton of bricks. Your mouth fell open and your eyes rolled to the very back of your head. You could swear you saw stars. Body twitching, hands gripping tightly to his shirt, and toes curling. You couldn’t stop twitching for what felt like hours, but in reality it was probably just a few seconds. A stifled moan left your mouth that was silent, loud moan, silence, and then a loud moan again. Like your voice was scratchy.

He stared at you when you came, and he thought you were the prettiest thing of them all. Even with red eyes and saliva dribbling down your chin. He couldn’t tear his eyes off the glossy sheen in your pupils. The tear drops staining your half fallen tank top, his hands, your legs, and his own t shirt. A bead of sweat dripped down your forehead, shining on your skin. You couldn’t stop crying. Not because of pain, but pleasure, overwhelming, aching pleasure.

The intense emotions too. You had just come on your neighbors dick? The neighbor you wanted but thought you could never have.

You regained most of your sight as you latched yourself into his body, skin to skin as he was almost pushed back onto his sofa. But he stood his ground, letting you wrap your arms around him as he did the same. Didn’t stop him from rutting into you though.

“Ya done good girl..”

He spoke in a gruff way before his thrusts got incredibly sloppy. Overall stopping when his full length was completely wrapped around your body. He felt his own orgasm shiver every last nerve. Something about the way you clung into him after you had just came made him cum even faster. If he really wanted to, he could have gone for hours without cumming but he knew that would be selfish and he didn’t want you to wait it out for that long.

When his breath stilled and your breathing was just about controlled. He stumbled back and sat on his cushions. Not worrying how his bare skin was against it. He’d worry about that next time.

“I’m gonna pull out-“

He mumbled. When you did your grip on his body only got stronger and he laughed. Doing that stupid shaking head habit before realizing you were ATTACHED to him. He slowly began to move you up. Body limp so it was easier to move you.

Groaning and trying not to get hard again he did it slowly, you couldn’t help but moan and whine. You could have stayed with it inside you forever, but you knew it was better. He watched himself finally be released from your walls and he took off the latex condom. Tying it tightly and putting it somewhere on the floor. Not bothering it leave it anywhere else, because it sure as hell wasn’t gonna go on any kind of surface.

You both sat there. Tops on but bottoms off. You clingy closely to him while crying into his broad shoulder.

“Awh now why’re ya still cryin’? I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

He joked, but it was laced with worry, patting your back to calm you.

You shook your head.

“Mm mm.. Jus’.. Dunno..”

You didn’t know why you got so quiet, or why you couldn’t stop crying. You weren’t sad or nothing.

“Than’ yu…”

Words slurred and the aftershocks barely hit you. He stayed right there, still tapping your back. One because no way he was gonna get you off of him, but also because he wanted to be there. He wanted you to cling to him. He liked the feeling of your body on his.

“Your welcome lil’ lady…”

Still catching his breath. He used his free palm to press against his forehead.

“Ya gonna keep that window open from now on.. ‘Kay?.. Ya got that?..”

You nodded.

“Mhm.. I will.. I will…”

“Right on, angel.”

E.N: Holy flip this took me 20 trillion years. I LAUV JOEL MILLER I LAUV JOEL MILLER I LAUV JOEL MILLER. Let’s just sayyyyy I’m gonna lock in and keep writing. Next topic; GETO 🤤🤤. Also ignore how freaking chopped and rushed the ending is like I just didn’t know how to end it 💔💔💔💔💔🥀🥀🥀🥀

[jakevwebber]

we know better - rigel wilde x fem reader

october 22nd

halloween party

tonight was the halloween party this was the biggest party of the year , everybody enjoyed halloween over any season so we always went out for this party.

only tonight the year above us were coming meaning 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙚𝙡 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙚 would be there , to sum up about rigel he never dated anybody ever always kept to himself but i began to 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 him the more i saw him around school and decided to let him know that so when he finally realised he decided to keep us a secret .

we aren’t dating nor do we have feelings for each other we just like to fuck on the odd occasion nobody knows right now except for us and it will hopefully be kept that way.

but he’s the year above and we have never been near each other like this outside of school infront of people so hopefully both of us can contain ourselves otherwise the secrets out when we know better.

7:46 pm

i finished getting ready putting on my red lipstick smudging the corner a little bit grabbing my jacket a bat and my bag with random bits.

i called an uber and sat on my front porch waiting for the uber to arrive , while waiting i went on my going onto snapchat snapping all my friends back a picture of me posing .

my best friend fiorélla messaged me asking how long i was going to be and what my outfit turned out like so i messaged back saying i’d be around 20 minutes and then sent her a snap.

my uber finally pulled up and i got inside closing the door and the man set off.

8:11pm

fiorélla was waiting for me on the sidewalk of the house , i got out the uber going up to her hugging her and giving her a kiss telling her how sexy she looked she returned the favour

we walked inside and the music was incredibly loud loads of people dancing by themselves or on each other and drinks in their hand , firoélla was holding my hand to drag me through the crowd to get to the kitchen .

we got to the kitchen i grabbed a red cup for me and her fi added vodka to our cups and i added red bull as a mixer and fi added coca cola.

“have you spotted fuck face yet?” fi asks

my heart dropped

“w-what?”

“fuck face ?” she looks at me confused

my heart gains consciousness again

“ohhhh stella no no i haven’t thank god i don’t want to” i laugh

“who did you think i was on about”

“idk that’s why i was confused”

she nodded and kissed my cheek and walked into the dining room after spotting her boyfriend zacheyo .

i continued finishing my drink and then pouring myself another and walking into the main room where everybody was dancing.

i joined in with the dancing after spotting my two friends vico and aria , whole i was dancing and moving around the round i made eye contact with rigel i didn’t even know he was here yet

i paused for a second then carried on dancing making sure nobody notices i didn’t see directly but i could feel him just staring at me .

i walked away from the dancing to get another drink i walked the other way so i didn’t have to walk past him but he obviously followed me and ended up standing infront of me with the counter in the way.

i got the vodka and cranberry mixing it together and then finally looking at him while i take a sip

then i realise what he’s wearing .

he’s gone as the joker and i’m harley this can’t be a coincidence no way

“how did u know i was harley” i asked

“i didn’t” he said with a smirk

“you must have heard me talk about it because why would u come as joker you don’t even like dressing up unless it’s a masquerade ball we’re it’s only a mask”

“i love that you know so much about me” he smiled

“i’m really not trying to make this obvious because your the one that would get backlash for being with me or fucking me so if you don’t want anybody to know shut up and stop” i say

he walked round the counter to stand closer to me “i don’t really care anymore , i’d been thinking about it and i don’t care”

i looked up at him in shock

“what?” i did a small shocked giggle

“you heard me” he smirked

10:26pm

i was so drunk it was unbelievable fi went home with her boyfriend because she wasn’t well and made sure aria would take me home so i was safe even tho i was gonna be safe either way.

the whole night rigel would go back and forth from the sofa to the kitchen to then dancing with me , to be honest i don’t think anybody noticed me and rigel everyone was probably too drunk.

rigel was now dancing with me and the song hell is round the corner came on.

i immediately looked at rigel laughing and smiling him doing the same , this song would come on slot when we would be having sex which made us now dancing very intimate.

his hands were trailing up and down my waist as my back was leaning against his chest.

he couldn’t hold himself back so he grabbed my hand took me upstairs to an empty room with a lock immediately pushing me onto the bed and then locking to door and then began taking his jacket off and mine.

my back played against the mattress with rigel above me kissing me deeply

he continued the kisses from my mouth to my neck and carried on till he reached my shorts

“can i take these off?” he asked

i nodded and he took my shorts and thong off leaving my bottom half bare

he moved his body back up to near me and took his shirt off and then took mine off throwing both to the floor

rigel made his way up to my bra unhooking the clip at the back revealing my boobs he eagerly moved his hands straight to them kissing them

"rigel please i need you"

"using your words good girl"

he began kissing up my thighs until he reached my clit starting to pleasure me by kissing my clit licking the folds up and down i was out of breath moaning quietly

he stopped kissing me and brought two fingers near my mouth then making me suck on them and bringing them down near my hole teasing me slightly just rubbing them around my hole touching each fold

"plea-se"

"what was that?"

"rigel please i need you”

he shoved his fingers straight into my hole curling his fingers inside then bringing them in and out

my moans were so loud it was echoing through the walls

"words."

"faster rigel"

he somehow got faster making me moan i covered my mouth arching my back

"im gon-gonna cum"

"not yet sexy"

"please"

he wriggled his fingers inside of me curling them again hitting my g-spot making me edge when he realised he took his fingers out of me leaving me empty.

he sat on his knees in between my legs starting to unbuckle his belt , take his jeans off then his boxers his cock sprung up after he brought his boxers down and he began to rub his thumb over his tip before leaning over me he kissed me again

"are u sure you want to carry on baby?"

"yes" i say out of breath

he was looking down at his cock holding onto it before positioning it at my folds sliding in slowly gripping one side of my waist bringing me down onto him faster

"omg ri-rigel"

he was moving faster and faster but it was incredible he moved his hand from my waist to my boob griping onto it squeezing it roughly

"rigel faster please"

"on it baby"

he kept slamming into me making me scream and moan in pleasure and pain

he turned me over so i was now on top of him while he was still inside of me and i began riding him , he was holding both sides of my waist lightly as i was doing the work i was moving backwards and forwards placing my hands on his chest with my boobs in his face

"i can't do it"

"i'll take over don't worry"

he was now gripping my waist slamming me on him going up and down throwing his head back moaning loudly digging his nails into my sides

"y/n please"

i was so close and so was he but he kept going as fast as he could he quickly grabbed both my boobs hoping it would help keep me up right

"i'm gonna cum" he groaned

"let's together"

i started to ride him again and he moved me up and down then we both moaned loudly and finished together.

“that was good” i said out of breath getting off him

“yeah it was , we should keep doing it with no distractions” while saying this he was putting his boxers back on sat on the edge of the bed and me sat the other side putting my panties and bra on

“what does that mean ?”

“i want to be with you , like properly , let everyone know becuase i don’t care anymore and i know you never did” he said smiling at me

“really?”

“yeah”

i walk over to him sitting on his lap my arms around his neck and began kissing him again

“i’ll be your girlfriend then but you have to ask me out properly”

“who said i wasn’t going to do it properly?” he laughed kissing my cheek

————————————————

so sorry guys for how long this took but please give this as much attention as you can !! thank you all for make sure to remind em all the time love you ❤️

i have also not checked this so if there’s a spelling mistake i apologise i do hope you enjoy this 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏼

tag list 🏷️:

@druigss @asunshine15 @langdons-slut @inlovewithscream @alifeinspiredd @fratbrrygf @estr3lladyox1de @xxshadowxxs-blog @venomsvl @sparksthemarauder @theoslove

[littlemisssquiggles]

Alright, I need to gush about Dandadan for a hot minute…

So this squiggle meister has hopped onto the Dandadan hype train. Ever since its anime adaptation release last year, I’ve been riding the high of my newest anime craze.

Not only am I all caught up on the anime (eagerly awaiting season 2 coming out this year) but I’ve also taken to following the manga; which I’m all caught up on too.

Speaking of which, the newest chapter of Dandadan dropped today - Chapter 181- and I’ve got some things to say about:

Firstly, the return of Unji Zuma. It’s nice to see that the Danmanru Arc wasn’t the last time we’ve seen our Umbrella King.

Zuma’s a cool character. I basically see him as a male Momo since the two share the same stubborn, headstrong yet surprisingly compassionate and loyal personality traits that make them really fun characters to watch further develop. In this squiggle meister’s eyes, Zuma is as much as cool older brother character to Momo as Jiji is.

However, judging by Zuma’s new look in the upcoming arc, I have a sinking feeling the manga is setting us up again for yet another wrench in the ongoing development of the Okarun and Momo love story.

I already made this point over over Twitter but ---

It CANNOT be a coincidence that Zuma, who was described as “Momo’s ideal type” cause he bares a resemblance to her celebrity crush Ken Takakura, now with his hair grown out and sporting a pair of glasses looks like a punk tough guy version of Okarun.

That can't be a coincidence, no? Like I said, I think the manga is setting us up yet again for another fake red herring love triangle and misunderstanding to further push the Momokarun ship into official couple status.

After all, we’re already half way there with Okarun’s recent confession.

Not to mention that last time, during the Space Globalist Arc, after the whole misunderstanding with Vamola, the first time Okarun actually admits to being in love with Momo is while “rejecting” Vamola.

I feel like Zuma is being set up to be Momo’s Vamola, y’know what I mean? I don’t know if Zuma is going to be confirmed to secretly like Momo.

I mean I hope not cause like I said, they have way more sibling energy to me than that of Momo and Jiji and Jiji is literally her childhood best friend and first crush).

But I do hope that Zuma’s presence will provide the catalyst to Momo professing her love for Okarun.

I mean, Zuma did over hear Momo whispering “tell me you love me” in her sleep and he gave her a look.

Surely, that’s got to come back sometime later just as how Momo’s “Lova Ya” note to Okarun came back, right?

While I doubt this will mean that Zuma will develop a romantic interest in Momo, if so is the case then I hope it will lead into Momo turning him down cause she will FINALLY admit that she’s already in love with Okarun.

THIS HAS TO BE WHY ZUMA IS BACK!

Outside of him bringing in a new arc, Zuma is here to be the FINAL PUSH for Momo to admit she loves Okarun. He has to be!

Zuma is literally the embodiment of everything Momo wants in a potential boyfriend. He looks like Ken Takakura. Underneath his tough exterior, he is genuinely courageous and has a benevolent spirit that drives him to go above and beyond for others in his care. Zuma is such a “good guy” that he got a whole school gang of delinquents to rally behind him. He is such a “good guy” that he’s even willing to help the poor Daiki kid with his curse.

I mean Zuma is just a really cool character.

And him being around again rocking dem big glasses and fluffy hair like Okarun is definitely gonna be confusing for Momo. At least that’s what I think.

Either way, I stand by what I said.

I think we’re entering the home stretch to Momo x Okarun being official.

I don’t know how many more arcs and chapters again it will take to get us there but we are getting there.

Zuma is the key.

If he isn’t gonna be yet another lying ass fake "potential love interest" like Aira, Jiji and Vamola all were then at least let him be a “real bro” to Momo.

I know he kinda blind right now but please let Zuma have the emotional wisdom to see through Momo’s BS of stalling her confession to Okarun and give her a firm kick in the ass with dem big Geta sandals he’s got on to get her to FINALLY return her feelings.

Bruh, we are almost to 200 chapters.

We need to see Momokarun canon before Luffy finds the One Piece. While we’re still young and our shipping hearts are still beating.

- LMS (2025)

[bonesmithsstuff]

Carmen Berzatto - Unspoken

Warnings: End of season 2, swearing - let me know if I forgot something ;). Angst.

Masterlist |

── .✦

" Let it rip. "

No one in the family would have expected it, yet no one was dreaming it. The figure that had just entered the restaurant had drawn eyes like a magnet. They hadn’t seen her in months —not since “The Beef” had closed for good and she had left without a word, without saying goodbye. Only informing them when the transfer was already complete, once her new job was accepted, ensuring they’d never be able to convince her to stay.

That night, it was Nat who welcomed her, greeting her with a huge smile and a warm embrace. Finally, she could see the girl again —her friend, the woman she’d grown up with and learned to love like the sister she never had. Richie soon followed, enveloping her in an embrace that lifted her a few inches off of the ground. Seeing them again had brought T/n one of those smiles she could only share with the family. Meanwhile the cousin watched her, happiness squeezed his heart and he thought of Carmy. Bear hadn’t been himself since T/n left, and even the blonde hadn’t noticed —though Richie had.

«Richie. I leave you alone for just a few weeks and look at you: all polished up in an elegant suit? I’ve got to say it: you’re looking damn fine.» A smug expression flashed across the man’s face as he straightened the collar of his jacket with his hands. The woman took the opportunity to glance around. The dining room seemed calm, yet she could perfectly imagine the extremely tense, focused, and worried look Carmy must have had in the kitchen. «How’s the evening going, folks?»

Nat ran a hand over her face and the other over her pregnant belly, Richie moved away after grabbing a little note passed to him by Fak. «I think it’s a fucking mess —we’re behind schedule and we almost had the bathroom flooded. I don’t know how much time we have left before we’re in complete chaos.»

The newly arrived woman took a deep breath, then looked around to study the expressions of the diners. No one seemed particularly irritated at the moment, assuming it was an evening meant for friends and family. Richie called her attention from the kitchen, and T/n excused herself from the blonde before joining him. Goodbyes were exchanged in the room above the commotion; Tina, Marcus, and the other guys quickly hugged the woman before returning to their stations.

Chaos reigned supreme —dirty pots, cold dishes, confusion at every station. As the arguments resumed and voices were raised, Sydney tried to quiet everyone down in vain.

T/n stepped in with a raised eyebrow and arms crossed over her chest. It came naturally, as if muscle memory had prompted her before she even had a chance to think. «What the fuck is going on here?»

«Carmy got stuck in the fridge and the dishes are taking too long. We’re fucking behind, damn it —we need to work faster.»

In an instant, everyone started arguing again; Carmen began pounding on the cell door, and Sydney started yelling at Marcus over some personal matter.

«Hey!» T/n called for attention, clapping her hands. «First off, let’s lower our voices —we don’t want to put on a show, do we? Everyone, get back to your stations, immediately. Richie, go to the dining room and do your job; I’ll take the damn orders, and you damn cooks, do your damn jobs, alright? I don’t want to hear anything other than ‘Okay’ and ‘Chef.’ In five minutes, we need to have most of these dishes out. Thanks, Chefs.»

Her tone was decisive and precise, calculated, as sharp as the knives on the counters, as if she’d done that a thousand times before. She left no room for arguments and, for some reason, even though some of them didn’t even know her, they all obeyed, and everyone resumed their tasks. «Chef Tina, would you kindly tell Carmy that if he doesn’t stop punching on that fucking door I’m gonna kick his ass? Thanks.»

Within ten minutes, the situation finally cooled down, and the air in the room became noticeably more relaxed and breathable. For the rest of the service, everything went smoothly, until none other than Claire Bear entered the kitchen: the tables were probably emptying out. She leaned in on to the fridge, and T/n watched her intently. Claire had been Carmy’s crush for as long as she’d known him, ever since she had her earliest memories of the man. She couldn’t even recall how many times her and Michael had teased him about it, how many quips they’d thrown his way over the years. And yet, knowing that he and Claire had grown close again hadn’t stirred any joy in her. She couldn’t be happy for him; she couldn’t stop feeling jealous.

Claire left in tears, fleeing the restaurant without looking at anyone. T/n and Richie exchanged confused looks and shrugged at one another. It wasn’t long before the man began arguing with the cousin through the fridge.

── ── ──

The door creaked open, its shrill sound shattering the silence of the kitchen. Perhaps the man fiddling with the door had finally decided to get moving just as T/n poured herself the third glass of wine. It wasn’t dawn yet, but the night was steadily drawing on. The clock read two in the morning, and the restaurant was now empty. Sydney had gone off to see her father, and Nat had gone home with the rest of the staff —exhausted after a long evening and ready to enjoy a well-deserved rest.

T/n remained, all alone. Certainly not by accident. She had returned to Chicago only for him, and she wouldn’t leave without seeing him.

When she finally saw him emerge from the walk-in freezer, her breath caught in her lungs for a moment: he looked exhausted. His blond hair was disheveled, his features etched with tension, and his blue eyes —which usually shone with determination—appeared dull, distant, lost in an undefined gaze. The chef’s body seemed to bear the weight of a day too long, of months that had dragged on for too long.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. T/n stared at him in silence, trying to gauge just how much he had let himself go. On the other hand, he could hardly believe that she was there —but slowly, a fleeting shadow of a smile crossed his face.

«Hey» A murmur, almost a whisper. His voice was low and husky.

T/n felt something tighten in her chest. He had always been skilled at hiding behind that calm tone, behind the silence, behind those hands that always moved frantically to avoid stopping to think. But she knew him all too well, and she didn’t give him time to say anything more or to think.

She took a step forward, then another. In an instant, she was right there with him, wrapping him in an embrace without hesitation. Her arms encircled his torso, and her face sank into his chest. She felt him tense for a second, as if he weren’t used to that contact anymore, but soon he relaxed. Carmy took a deep breath, his hands, tentative at first, brushed over her back before tightening their hold.

The Chef lost himself in that familiar scent and embrace. It was just as he remembered —perhaps even better. He couldn’t recall when he had started living for moments like that, when his every breath was measured between one greeting and the next, between one hug and the one that followed. How could so many days have passed without seeing her and without driving him mad?

She was his sharp needle, the one that brought him back to reality when he was lost. She had always done that. Her and Michael.

On the other hand, to T/n, his scent was equally familiar —a blend of spices, of exertion, and of something that smelled inexplicably hers.

«What are you doing, Carm?» The young woman whispered against the fabric of his T-shirt. He closed his eyes, and after a moment, slowly moved away.

He took a step back, letting her go. «I don’t know.» Leaning against one of the kitchen shelves, he ran a hand over his face. The dim light illuminated only half of his expression, leaving the other half in shadow.

He had always been like that —divided between two opposing aspects: the need to have someone by his side and the fear of truly letting them close. «You don’t have to do everything yourself.» She said firmly. «And neither does Nat. If you need help, delegate. You’re the boss, Carm, but you’re wearing yourself out like this.»

He lowered his head, running his hands through his hair as if trying to tear something out of his mind.

«I know.»

«Then do as I said.»

Silence fell.

She looked at him, arms crossed, face serious.

Carmen knew all too well that the woman wouldn’t let him off with a mere reprimand. She always wanted all the answers.

«And what about Claire?» She asked, looking up sharply as if struck by something. A confused expression flitted across his face, and the young woman sighed in exasperation. «Claire Bear, wake up. Come back to reality. She left in tears. What’s her deal? Is she your girlfriend or what?» A flash of irritation crossed her gaze, and her tone came out more annoyed than necessary. If he noticed, he didn’t say it.

«Fuck, I’ve made a mess.» He detached himself from the counter with a jerk, beginning to pace back and forth in the kitchen, restless. «It was the opening of my restaurant, and I ended up locked in that fucking freezer because I couldn’t hear the damn phone in the kitchen to call the repairman. Fuck, what else do you want me to say?» He suddenly stopped and looked at her. «And no, Claire is not my girlfriend.»

T/n took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving him. Moments of silence passed. «Carm?»

«What now?»

She took a step forward. «I missed you.»

Carmen shivered. Her tone was soft and velvety. He felt the weight of those words passing through him, melting along his skin. His gaze slowly lowered, moving up from the hem of her dress to meet her eyes. That dress —she had worn it for his night. For him. She had returned to Chicago for him. The mere thought awakened all those emotions he had desperately tried to erase, in vain. His eyes grew darker, as if those three words had stirred something too deep and too buried to be brought back to the surface.

She never looked away. «Mickey would be fucking proud of you.» She whispered, taking another step forward. «I am so fucking proud of you.»

He shook his head. «Don’t do this to me.»

«Do… what?»

Carmy’s breathing became erratic, and his heart pounded like a drum against his chest. «Don’t be here for me.» This time, the young Berzatto stepped toward the woman —a precise, calculated stride. «You can’t.» Another step. «I don’t deserve it.»

Then he took her. His hands closed around her waist with a force that made her flinch. He pushed her against the kitchen counter, their bodies clinging together, drawn like a magnet. T/n’s heart raced as she gripped the counter, trying to anchor herself to something.

Their eyes met, and in that instant, Carmy —who never had been much for words— spoke volumes with the way he held her. The way his eyes devoured her, as if he could no longer hold back. And he no longer wanted to. «You look fucking beautiful in this dress.»

His fingers tightened on her waist. «I can’t think of anything but you ever since you left.» His lips brushed her neck, and T/n closed her eyes. The warmth of his breath against her skin made her shiver. «And fuck, everyone knows —except you.»

His fingers trailed up her back, sinking into her hair. «Michael knew it.» A kiss, just below her ear, made her stifle a moan. «Now Claire knows it too.» Another kiss, slower, more intense. He tasted her as if she were the most exquisite of his dishes, leaving nothing for anyone else.

T/n pulled back imperceptibly; shaken, confused, troubled. Carmy raised his head and fixed his gaze on her, waiting. «Michael was my best friend. He would have told me.» She looked away, but the man was quick to grasp her chin, forcing their eyes to meet. He wanted her to see the passion burning within him, to feel it. «It was always Claire. We’ve always teased you about how much you liked her.»

Carmy’s fingers caressed her jaw, and a slight smile curved his lips. When their hips met while he pressed on her, T/n could feel the truth of those words against her leg. She held her breath. «And without you, Michael always teased me about how much I fucking adore you.» His tone was low and husky.

A second later, his lips found hers.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss but one born of desperation and fury, born within everything they’d kept inside for far too long. T/n’s hands clutched his T-shirt, gripping the fabric as if she wanted to pull him even closer, as if she wanted to imprint him onto her skin. Carmy groaned against her warm lips, the taste of wine lingering on his tongue as he overwhelmed her, his fingers gliding over her body while their breaths mingled.

Carmy could only imagine what his brother’s face would have been if he’d known, if he’d seen them at that moment.

Michael had caught him staring at her ass so many times he’d lost count. He’d witnessed Carm’s expression harden every time he heard her mention men other than the Berzattos. He hadn’t known at the time, but Mickey did. He had told him years later —about how he noticed Carmy’s eyes following her every move, about how he sought physical contact with her and only her, about how T/n always asked him about the blond one and how red her cheeks got the few times she’d seen him shirtless.

After those words from his brother —before he left to chase his dream of becoming a chef— Carmy never got her out of his head, never. How could he? She was Michael’s best friend and had always been part of his family; He probably knew her before he even learned to walk. He had memorised the foods she loved —making them the firsts he ever tried to cook. He knew by heart the tone of her voice when she was angry, the way she frowned, and he remembered perfectly the sound of her laughter.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads brushed. He was breathless. His voice was low, almost broken. «Stay. Stay in Chicago.»

T/n looked at him, helpless. No more words were needed —she was there for that. For him to ask her to stay.

Their lips met again.

And that time, they didn’t stop.

── .✦

Let me know what do you think!

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: A New World {2}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Unexpected allies and strange changes are happening both on and off the track. Warnings: 18+ only, mature content, we got another period WC: 2.4k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three

Round One - Bahrain 2023 “Nice work out there,” Lance said as he clapped you on the back as you began your return to the motorhome smelling like champagne. 

“You too, not a bad start at all,” you said with a grin. It was the first race and already you had scored a podium for Aston Martin, albeit behind both Red Bulls. 

“Not sure your boyfriends would agree. Have you seen them yet?”

You sighed and shook your head. Charles had out-qualified you, both Ferrari’s starting a row ahead, but in the end he hadn’t been able to finish the race. Lando wasn’t much better, coming in last with who remained in the race. 

“I’ll hunt them down after I find my mum. She’s probably lost and confused by now.” 

“She’ll get used to the paddock soon enough. It must be good to have her finally come to your races.”

“I’m not sure she would say the same thing,” you chuckled. “Did you see how nervous she was at testing last week? Thought she was going to have an aneurysm when she heard my top speed.”

“Dad was like that when I started too.” Lance opened the door for you to the Aston Martin motorhome and grinned at the cheer that erupted. The race had only finished an hour ago and already the motorhome was being dismantled to move on to the next destination.

“One more race like that and we’ll already have more points than we had all of last year,” Lawrence said as he threw his arms around both you and his son. “Sensational! That’ll show the bastards at Red Bull they have a competition on their hands this year.”

“Can’t wait,” you smirked at the idea.

Lawrence squeezed your shoulder. “Show them what a mistake they made, alright?”

“With pleasure. Thank you for giving me the chance.”

Lawrence sighed and took a seat at an empty table, pointing you to the one opposite and he sent Lance off to get changed. “You’re a great driver, there’s no disputing that, so I’m happy to have you on the team - especially if you keep performing like you did out there. You could have an entire harem for all I care.”

“I’m happy with two, thanks,” you said with a laugh. “It does suck not being able to go out and celebrate though.” 

You had received a warning letter before the season began with an outline on which countries you would be arrested in for showing any PDA, same with Lando and Charles. Bahrain was one and the next stop in Saudi Arabia was another. Lewis had tried to speak up but his influence couldn't change the laws that were going to be upheld and there would be no leniency. 

“I’d rather not have to bail you out of jail so early in the season.”

“I can cover bail, just don’t rip up my contract,” you joked. “Please.”

“That wasn’t right. I have a daughter so I know full well the different treatment you ladies get no matter what you do.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice as he jutted a thumb over his shoulder, “They don’t even seem to remember Checo’s scandal in Monaco last year. It just goes to show that it wasn't because their ‘core values’ were breached. Red Bull is led by misogynists. End of.”

“Well don’t hold back, Mr Stroll.” You grinned at your boss and sat back in your seat feeling even more comfortable with your choice in employer. You had offers from Williams and Alfa Romeo, as well as a reserve driver for Mercedes, but you were glad you took the Aston Martin seat, even if green wasn’t your best colour. “I feel like I should set you up on a soap box outside their garage.”

“I’ve found they don’t pay much attention to words, we’ll just have to beat them instead,” he said as he rose from the table and wrapped his knuckles on the wooden top. “Have yourself a good evening.”

“You too, boss.”

After showering and searching the motorhome and failing to find your mum, you went in search through the paddock, finally locating her in McLaren’s hospitality. 

“One race and you ditched me already,” you said to her as you stole one of their bottles of water from the fridge. 

“I knew you were fine, so I thought I would check in on sweet Lando,” she said with a sad smile. “He’s not too happy with his result.”

You snorted a laugh and she slapped your arm as she shhh’d you. “What? No one jumps for joy at last place. It’s kind of obvious.”

“Just go and check on him okay? I’ll see you all for dinner later.”

You watched her navigate her way out and trusted that she could find her way back to Astin Martin. Kristian was staying in the same hotel so she was going to get a ride back with him while you rode with Lando and Charles after finishing the debrief and interviews. She had the endless patience of a saint, except when it came to the media.

You rapped your knuckles on the door before opening it and found Lando pacing the narrow space, his phone to his ear. “-least yours was a mechanical failure, my car is just shit. Oh, she just got here. We’ll see you soon. Love you.”

He tossed his phone onto the table and opened his arms, welcoming a warm embrace after the terrible performance he had endured. His chest was still damp from the shower and he smelt edible like a key lime pie when you kissed his collar bone. 

“Proud of you,” he murmured into your neck where he buried his face and inhaled your body wash too. 

“Proud of you too.” 

He pulled back and shook his head like he didn’t believe you and you caught his face in your hands, forcing him to face you. “I am proud of you, baby. What you did today was much harder than me…the fact you still finished the race and held your head high shows how resilient you are. I probably would have done a Kimi and just fucked off mid-race.”

His chest bounced with a small laugh because you both knew it was true. 

“You are going to be a world champion one day, I know it,” you swore as you pressed your forehead to his and felt him shake his head. “You don’t have to believe me, Lando. I believe in you. You deserve it, you have the raw talent - and one day you will have the car to match. Then you will be unstoppable.”

The door swung open as Charles let himself in and you delighted in the way his face lit up upon seeing you both opening your arms for him to join. “Mmmm,” he sighed as he closed his eyes and tipped his head onto Lando’s shoulder. “What a fucking day…Can we go home yet?”

Round Four - Baku 2023 You were a shoo-in for a podium place. It was in reach for the fourth race in a row, until the pain began. Sudden and strong, you nearly missed the corner as the ache in your abdomen grew to a point you couldn’t ignore it. You felt even bump in the road, every force of the turns, the pressure from your harness.

“Fuck,” you growled through gritted teeth. “How many laps left?”

“Five, why? Woah, your heart rate is through the roof,” Chris exclaimed, not nearly as calm as Nicholas would have been.

“Yeah, kind of happens when I’m in pain,” you retorted as you thought you could probably handle five more laps. There wasn’t another option anyway. 

By the penultimate lap Charles had overtaken you and you saw his helmet turn your way ever so slightly, like time slowed as he passed. There was no way to see under his visor but you knew there would have been a look of concern on his face.

“Try to at least maintain your pace, Sainz is currently gaining.”

“I’m fucking trying alright.”

You managed to remain in fourth position as you crossed the finish line and then returned to the pits to see Charles’ Ferrari taking the last podium parking spot. You would have liked to have parked there but if it had to go to someone else you were glad it was him. 

“Where’s Lando?”

“Ninth.”

You laughed happily at the news that he had also made it to the points again and turned off your engine to start unstrapping yourself. You reached between your legs for the buckle and swore under your breath as you felt the sticky residue on your race suit that was definitely not sweat.

Charles had been celebrating with his team before the final weigh in but when he returned to take a drink of water he noticed you still hadn’t climbed out of yours. He could see Lando’s car a few behind as he arrived but even he was touching down on the tarmac and pushing his steering console back into place.

“Charles, you’re up,” Max interrupted the step he took towards you. “What’s she doing? She’s not crying because she lost, right?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered half distracted before realising what Max had said and rolled his eyes. “She’s not crying.”

He seemed proven wrong when you pulled your helmet off your head and he saw tears streaming down your face. Max turned to Sergio and pointed to the interviewer waiting by the Sky News cameras. “Mate, can you go first?” They didn’t wait for an answer as your face contorted with pain and your head fell forward. 

“Baby, you alright?” Lando asked as he reached you first, reaching in and taking your steering wheel out for you as you shook your head. “Here, let me help you out.”

“I can’t get out of the car,” you admitted as tears of embarrassment wet your hot cheeks. 

“That's okay, I can carry you,” he murmured as he reached for you but you slapped his hands away. 

“I can’t get out of the fucking car!” you snapped, immediately getting the attention of Charles and Max who had arrived too, only increasing the anxiety that you were feeling. “Please, just get my pit crew to jack up the car and wheel me to the garage.”

“Why?” Max asked as he crossed his arms, but then they dropped as he barked a laugh. “Did you pee in the car?”

“Fuck off, twat,” you grunted as Charles hit him on the shoulder with a, “Mate, it happens, leave her alone.”

You hunched over and clutched your abdomen as a cramp wracked your body and a pained groan slipped out. “Oh, oh shit,” Lando reacted first, knowing exactly what was happening after surviving three of your menstrual cycles over the winter break. 

“Charles, Max, interview time.” 

They both glared at the FIA official but Lando nodded his head. “Go, I’ll take care of her.”

Three Days Later Your knee nervously bounced as you sat in the doctor's room. “I never get periods during the racing season, something must be wrong.”

“Well, your test results were all normal.” She pushed her glasses back up her nose as she changed the folders she was looking at. “Are you feeling stressed?”

You pondered the question for a moment, not really having realised how different life was in Aston Martin and not having to hide your relationship. “Not really, no.”

“But you used to be,” she noted as she read through her past comments on your file. “Stress, as you know, can upset your hormonal balance quite significantly.”

“So I’m getting my period again because I’m not as stressed? That’s inconvenient.”

“It’s how your body should function.”

“I need it to stop.”

Reaching into her drawer, she grabbed a few pamphlets and laid them across her desk. “There’s certainly options, but they could have other side effects.”

You left the office with a prescription in hand but you weren’t sure how your boyfriends were going to take the news. They were always concerned about your health and wellbeing that it could go one of two ways.

“I thought the hormones would mess with you,” Lando said as he shook the box and heard the rattle of the foil trays inside.

“They are messing with me now.” You dropped down onto the couch as he passed the box over to Charles to read. “Who knew Red Bull could be so stressful?” you mused.

“Pierre, Albono, Kvyat,” Lando listed with a smirk. 

“I think you should take them, if you think it will help,” Charles decided as he placed the box back in your hand.

“There’s only one way to find out,” you shrugged, cracking the foil seal on the first tablet. “Plus, we’ll save a fortune not having to buy condoms.”

“Wait, what?” Lando’s face lit up like a kid at Christmas. “I thought this was to stop your period.”

“I mean, it stops them, as well as having babies, like a two-for-one deal.”

“I could get on board that.” His lips curled up into a sexy smirk as he dropped into the space beside you and draped his arm across your shoulders. His body was already stirring at the idea and he looked up at Charles who had gone to get a glass of water for you. “Tell me you haven’t dreamt of this day.”

Charles rolled his eyes but didn’t refute him as he handed the glass over and watched you swallow the little pill. “Of course I have, mon cher.”

“Sorry, boys, it takes seven days to work. You’ll still have to wrap it if you want to tap it.”

It was mean but you took some pleasure in the collective groan they made.

“Block out your calendar,” Charles chuckled as he bent down and kissed you. “Seven days and we plan to absolutely ruin you.”

You squirmed at the thought, imagining the feel of their cum dripping from you after they filled you and it drove you feral. You grabbed Charles and pulled him onto the couch as he laughed at the sudden urge you had to feel his body on yours. 

“Tell us what you need, chérie,” he teased while Lando’s lips found your racing pulse.

Your core clenched and reminded you of the emptiness within. “You,” you begged as your hands disappeared up their shirts and felt the hard muscles beneath your palms. “I need you to ruin me.”

Click here for part three.

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[whateverisbeautiful]

OK. What do you think...a season 2 for TOWL? Or maybe just a Richonne cameo or two to liven up those other boring ass spinoffs? Orrrrrr do you think they'll do an Avengers type thing where they close out the OG franchise with the whole Family reunited? I feel like they keep giving us a lot of mixed signals, keeping us on edge about the possibility of another season. They hint at it then deny it then tease it again....I just wann know!

Oh my gosh I really want to know too! Where before I had my doubts about if we’d see Richonne again, the way all 3 members of ‘the band’ have responded to questions about a return has led me to feel pretty confident there’s already something concretely in the works for Rick and Michonne to make another appearance. I ended up having all these thoughts to write out on this lol. But their comments, especially from Gimple recently, have made my usually cautiously-optimistic self quite hopeful about Richonne’s return:

I think about so many other shows that formally end and the way the actors talk after is usually very final as they bid farewell to characters they’ve played for years. Andy & Danai keeping their answers open-ended after TOWL S1 makes me think they know they aren’t entirely done with these characters just yet. Because if TOWL S1 was the end of their journey playing Rick and Michonne, I think they’d have just outright confirmed that and spoken of the closure they feel putting those characters officially to rest.

I’m usually so hesitant to get my hopes up and I do believe things shouldn’t just go on forever and ever, but after Gimple, Andy, & Danai’s responses, it’s changed from an “if” to a “when” regarding us getting Richonne back on our screens. It’s just a matter of which format. And as much as I’m so content with TOWL season one’s end and will be fully satisfied if that’s the final conclusion to their story, I admit I want the format of their return to be in a season 2 of TOWL so bad. 🤞🏽Just one more season - that’s even advertised clear-cut as the official undeniable final chapter for Richonne.

I appreciate that Andy & Danai only want to come back if the story feels right, necessary, and of quality. That's the only way I'd want them to return too. And I believe there’s totally potential for a final season of TOWL to have a fresh compelling story. I think there’s a way for it to still importantly center around Richonne and their Grimes family while organically incorporating familiar faces from the TWD cast. And I’d love if they got to come back for something that is definitively final so that they and us can have that official no-speculation-of-more-needed farewell. (But not because either of them dies. I only want them to come back if Richonne still gets to live long lives and have a happy ending. “Definitive closure” to me is more like they end with an epilogue of Richonne having grown old together as happily married grandparents)

A TOWL Season 2 is the most ideal route to me (and would probably perform best for AMC) over cameos in other spin-offs or an Avengers-type TWD Season 12, which might evoke a more fatigued response rather than excitement from me and the general public. At the same time, I think it’s probably more likely that Rick and Michonne return for a briefer appearance in one of the other spin-offs that I don’t watch rather than doing a whole new season.

I’d be happy to see Richonne one more time in any capacity tho. Again, so long as they still live long lives with a happy ending. Even tho I personally won’t be tuning into those other spinoffs while waiting for Richonne, I think AMC probably doesn’t mind stretching that question of “will we see Rick and Michonne again and will they reunite with core cast members?” for awhile so that it can add intrigue to their other twdu projects.

So who knows how long it’ll be or how it’ll go, but I do think we at least haven’t seen the last of Rick and Michonne Grimes. 👌🏽

[cwritesforfun]

Jake Ballard x Fem!Reader: Stay Forever?

The lack of fics is criminal - this is loosely based on Season 3 * I do not own Scandal characters or plot * Y/N = Your Name

Masterlist

Your POV

Dating was for losers. That’s what you tell yourself as you drink your favorite alcoholic drink at the bar around the corner from work. But really, you had an intense relationship with Jake Ballard who you loved until he broke up with you. He claimed that it would be better this way and that he couldn’t have a girlfriend right now.

The day after he broke up with you, your boss fired you.

The day after that, your cat died. You raised her from kitten to a fully grown cat.

Now, 2 weeks later, you’re sitting in the bar drinking a drink after job searching. You finally feel tipsy and decide to call it a night. You order a cab and take it to your apartment. Outside of your apartment door is Jake in a suit. He never used to wear a suit. What happened to him?

You exclaim, “Hi Jake.” He says, “Hey Y/N. Where have you been? I tried calling you tonight and you didn't pick up.” You answer, “I was out at a bar drinking. I’m home and here now. What’s wrong?” He replies “I shouldn't have come. I don't know why I did.” You reply, “No, you shouldn’t have. It’ll just make me more miserable. Goodbye.”

You open your front door and slam it in his face.

You start crying and you go shower.

The next day, you feel yourself being followed after you leave work. You know what Jake did for a living so you would know if it was someone sent by him. He would’ve told you. This makes you feel uneasy.

You can’t sleep.

You check your mail and find photos of you with Jake that say to stay away. You’re worried for him.

You can barely focus at work.

You drive to Jake’s place after work and use your spare key to open the door. You’re lucky that he never asked for it back. You sigh once you’re safe in his place.

You then see Jake with a gun in his hand aiming at you and he asks, “Y/N? What are you doing here?” You hold your hands up and answer, “Someone was following me. Did you send them?” He lowers his gun and answers, “No I didn’t… Y/N, tell me everything you remember.” So you sit across from him on the couch and tell him every detail you remember. You’re lucky for your photographic memory on this day. You even show him the file of photos.

After you say everything, Jake goes off to make a call. You sit on the couch and realize you could’ve died today. You feel tears drop from your eyes and you feel a sob escape from your mouth. Jake returns and says, “Okay. Put your head right here.” You see him patting his chest and you move closer to him. You put your head on his chest and he wraps you up tightly. He says, “You’re not alone. I’m alive. Everything will be okay.” He holds you as you cry. You pull away from him slightly and exclaim, “I can’t lose you, Jake. I know you wanted to not date me, but I can’t lose you. You still matter to me even if we don't talk.” He replies, “You won’t lose me. I love you and … I regret breaking up with you. I shouldn’t have done it. I got a promotion at work and it stressed me out. I knew my hours at work would keep me there longer days and I didn’t want to worry you.” You reply, “You should’ve talked to me.” He replies, “Yeah. I should have.”

Jake gets another call and he answers it. You watch him nod and finally, he ends the call. Jake exclaims, “They found the person stalking you and are interrogating them now. We'll find out why you were targeted and You did the right thing coming to me.” You reply, “Okay, good. Well, I should probably leave you to it.”

He grabs your wrist and says, “The safest place for you is here for now. Don't contact anyone either. I need you to stay alive and the way I can do that is to have you here so I can watch you.” You reply, “Fine… um, do you have anything to eat? I drove here straight after work and I didn’t have dinner yet.” He smiles and says, “Let’s go see. I think I do have food.” You follow Jake to the kitchen and he shows you his fridge. You make scrambled eggs, some veggies, and toast.

You sit next to him and eat dinner. You notice him watching you. You ask, “Why do you keep staring at me?” Jake shrugs and answers, “I just can’t believe you’re here.” You ask, “Are you glad?” He answers, “I don’t like that someone is stalking you to get to me, but I do like that you’re here. I missed you. I don’t think I said that yet, but I missed you.” You reply, "Well I missed you too... how is your new job?" He answers, "Lonely and stressful. It feels like the world is dependent on me and it's terrifying. I also don't like coming home to an empty place. I miss having you here. You were my friend before we dated and the only person who I had to confide in." He looks like he's about to cry and you reach out to him. He hugs me tightly and says, "Please stay forever." You reply, "Ok."

It was as simple as that.

Jake hunted down the people stalking you and put an end to it. You didn't want to know the details, but you trusted him.

You moved out of your old place and into his place permanently. Then you went back to work.

You see Jake every night and you both debrief your days no matter how late it is. You also cuddle every night and he holds you so close.

Masterlist

[skyfallslayer]

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Epilogue 1

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: Although they’re both recovering slowly, they’re both experiencing it in different ways -- Will can’t stop seeing himself in the Upside Down and tries to drown it out with his family’s love, while Steph is plagued by nightmares and memory loss, she tries making a new friend.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 4,633

🎲Date: 4/25/25

🎲Warnings: Angst; Heavy Language & Dialogue; Implied Bullying; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Implied Mental Health Issues; Mentioning of Death/Dying; Mention of the Afterlife; Implied Drug Use; Smoking; Mention of Life Threatening Injuries; Scars; Nightmares; Implied Child Abuse; The Harrington's A+ Parenting; Stephanie & Will Deserved All The Love. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: Whoo! This was an interesting one to write. And it's only been beta once, so hopefully everything makes sense 😅 (I'll double check it later, I swear). So this is it. The last part of Season 1. A little short story to tease what is yet to come in Season 2. Enjoy!

For Will Byers returning to school wasn’t as bad as he thought. The teachers were being extra nice, his bullies Troy and James couldn’t dare look him in the eye (Thanks, Eleven), and his friends made sure he was up to date with homework and studies. Everything seemed nice, but he knows that there are still some stares. There was whispering and looks he couldn’t miss, and even though some students he barely knew were trying to be nice and welcome his return, he could tell they thought of him as a freak. Frankly, he couldn’t really blame them for thinking that. To all of them he was dead, had a funeral and a memorial at the school, only to be found alive days later and told a crazy, but believable, story by the town’s Police Chief.

The word ‘Freak’ has been told to him several times in the past, but in the present it hits different. He tries not to show it, but it’s hard not to when you’re as sensitive as he is. He just wonders if anyone has noticed yet…

“Will!” His mom’s voice calls out while he’s in the bathroom.

“Yeah?” 

“Ball’s dropping in fifteen. And the cookies are done if you want any.”

“Okay. I’ll be out in a minute!” He says, zipping up his pants. He could smell the cookies she mentioned from here, and wonders if that’ll calm his jitters. I just need to relax. It’s almost the new year. 84’ is going to be a lot better.

That’s what he’s been telling himself since Christmas, since Thanksgiving if he’s being honest. Everything’s going to get better soon. The school semester will be done in a few months, Summer will soon follow, and then he moves on to another round of Middle School. He gets to do all this with his friends. What more could he ask for?

As he turned the faucet off that’s when he felt like he might have to eat his own words. Will froze as everything got dark and soon basked in that blue hue that was still embedded in his brain; The vines trickled out of the walls and crawled everywhere; The white substance fluttered around like the snow outside. He felt throat get tight as he grip the sides of the sink. 

No. He tells himself, shutting his eyes and drowning this place out. No. No. No. I’m not there. I’m not there. I’m not there. I’m not there. I’m not–

Someone shouts his name, making his eyes shoot back open to reveal that the Upside Down was gone. He looks around with caution, before a little blissful sigh leaves his lips. 

Everything’s okay. I’m okay. He makes sure his heart’s not racing before leaving the bathroom for his living room. He sees his family waiting around the TV for the New Year’s Eve Ball to drop.

“Everything okay?” Jonathan asks, scooting over for his brother to sit.

“Yeah. I was just… daydreaming.” Will replies, as his mother hands him a plate of cookies -- oatmeal raisin, his favorites. 

“Well, don’t daydream too much, or you’ll miss the drop.”

“Unless you’re daydreaming about your New Year’s resolutions?” Joyce said, taking a bite of the treat. “Do you have any this year, sweetie?”

Will ponders for a moment. “I haven’t really thought about it much.”

“Well, I’m hoping I get that promotion at work.” She smiles. “Those extra bucks could help us a lot. Maybe we can finally take that trip to the southern beaches like we wanted.”

“That’ll be awesome, Mom.”

“I’m hoping I can get a job somewhere for my photography.” Jonathan says, thinking. “That, or maybe I can try to at least work at the school paper.”

“See? That’s a good goal.” Joyce said, all proud. “You should go for it. Those papers always need a photographer.” Her son blushes at the comment just as they heard those magic words on the TV. “Oh! It’s starting.”

The Byers Family chanted the countdown, cheering when the screen flash 1984. Their cheering abruptly stopped when they heard a loud bang outside, followed by many more.

“And there he goes.” She said, amused.

“Good ol’, Bob. Right on time as always.” Jonathan said, talking about their neighbour. He shifts his weight towards his little brother. “Do you want to go watch?”

“Yes!” Will said, eagerly nodding.

“Hey, Hey. Boys, make sure you put shoes on and a coat.” Their mother urges, as they head for the front door.

“We got it, Mom.” 

Will slips on what he needs and opens the door, a few big leaps until he’s off the porch and on the snow. He stares upwards at the midnight sky that’s starting to get bathed in all the colors of the rainbow. He hears his family standing behind him, silently watching them too as he couldn’t help but smile at this peaceful moment.

Yeah. The single word was filled with hope and pride. 84’ is going to be a good year.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

.

.

.

Steph opens her eyes slowly, the room lighting up in front of her. Moving without thinking, her bare feet crossed the white bricks, the path getting brighter and brighter with each step. She passed some people lingering around, their presence not really a bother until someone was standing in her path. She slows her pace, pale features turning into confusion. 

“Grandma?” She said, the older woman was just as surprised to see her as she was.

“Oh, Stephanie. I didn’t expect to see you here so soon.” Her grandma frowns with pity. “I honestly thought I’d see your mother here first.”

Stephanie felt herself tense up. “Oh. Am I…?” She trailed off when she realized she really did succumb to those bats. “Oh, yeah. I guess I’m dead.”

“You were always so selfless. Of course you being here is because you saved a little boy.” Her Grandmother’s statement made her smile.

“Well, the little boy was one of Dustin’s friends.”

“Oh, Dusty-bun. I miss that kid. I wish I could have seen him grown like I did you.” The woman holds out her arm. “Come. I’ll show you to the end.”

Steph slung her arm around hers, and they began walking the path again. The closer they got towards the end, the warmer and more welcoming the light became. “Wow.” She says, memorized. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” Grandma says, smiling and locking eyes with her grandchild. “Would you like me to go over with you?”

“That’ll be great. I really want–” When Steph broke eye contact to look ahead, everything went dark. She stops, confused about where everything just went. “Grandma, what just happened?” She blinks. “Grandma?”

The teenager turned on her heels, her family member was gone and so was everyone else -- the white bricks and light trickled to the darkness as well. It took her a minute to realize what was going on, and scoffed while shaking her head.

“No… No, not again.” She grits her teeth and makes fists with her hands. “You’re not doing this to me again! DO YOU HEAR ME?! I WANT TO FUCKING REMEMBER!!”

Her words echoed in the abyss, her quiet panting turning into a loud groan of frustration. Why can’t she remember anything past this? What was causing her not to? Where was the block? And how can she undo it?

A chill ran up her spine at the sound of whispering, as she frantically looked around. The chatter was getting louder and louder by the second that it was driving her more mad than not getting an answer. 

“Jesus Fucking Christ. Whatever you are, just shut the HELL UP!!” She shouts, turning around again only to be met with a screaming Demogorgon. She finds her screaming too…

.

.

.

The screaming stopped as soon as she was awake, but her bedroom in a split second changed to the one in the Upside Down. She laid in bed, staring up at the icky ceiling as all the air in her lungs left her. She finds herself not being able to breath, and starts to choke -- her hands clawing at her throat, irritating her scars. She felt her eyes starting to sting at the lack of oxygen–

Then it all hit at once when her bedroom returned normal.

She shakingly takes in the cool air, one of her hands resting over her beating heart, waiting for herself to feel normal.

“It’s j-just a dream, it’s just a– fuck.” Steph whispers, using the bit of strength she had left to push herself to sit up. She brings her knees to her chest, giving herself another moment to process. But when she hears the sound of fireworks going off in the distance, she is forced to look at the alarm clock.

1:02 am. 

Thirty minutes. I got thirty minutes of sleep. Fuck. Her eyes trail to the sleep medicine next to it and picks it up. “This shit’s not helping.” She says, and throws the bottle across the room somewhere in frustration. It’s been the same shit every night since then. Every time she closes her eyes for sleep she knows she won’t get a lot. It’s…

Fucking exhausting.

Literally.

She sighs out loud, her reaction getting someone’s attention. Steph peeks to the floor, noticing a certain animal’s orange tail sticking out from under her bed. 

“Oh.” Steph reaches down and carefully picks up a frightened Mews. “Hey, there, Kitty. I forgot you don’t like the light show outside.” She holds the cat close, feeling him melt into her embrace as she lays against the headrest. “I guess you and I won’t be getting much sleep tonight.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Was this a bad idea? Probably. 

Would her mother kill her if she found out? Probably.

The idea just came to her around 4 this morning, and for some reason couldn’t shake it away or come up with an excuse on why she shouldn’t do it. She knows she shouldn’t go down this path, but she desperately needed a good eight hours (or more) worth of sleep undisturbed.

So here she was in her kitchen, throwing down the yellow pages onto the counter a lot harder than anticipated. She took a deep breath and started flipping through the phone book quickly. 

“Munson, Munson, Munson, where are you?” She whispers, blue eyes trailing up and down the pages for ‘M’. “Where is… oh.”

She spots a name that says Wayne Munson, and raises an eyebrow. Is that his dad? Or some kind of relative that has direct contact with Eddie? 

She’s hoping it’s one of the two, or it’s going to get really awkward fast. She leans forward to grab the phone off the hook, eyes darting back and forth as she types in the number. She anxiously taps her fingers against the countertop, the constant ringing making her stomach turn as her mind races with the idea of backing out. But then– 

[ ‘Munson residence.’ ]

The girl froze at the older man’s voice, lost for words on the spot.

[ ‘Um, hello? Who–’ ]

Fuck! She mentally slaps herself and says, “Um, h-hi! Uh, is Eddie Munson home?”

She heard the man briefly pause to process her question (or maybe he was reluctant to answer?).

[ ‘Who’s asking?’ ]

“Oh, s-sorry I should have started with that. Um, my name’s Stephanie Henderson, and uh, your… son has been–”

[ ‘He’s my Nephew.’ ]

“Nephew. Okay. Yeah, uh, anyway, he helped me with some school work I missed since, uh…” She swallows. “You probably saw the news? T-The kidnapping, uh–”

[ ‘Oh, yeah. Hard to forget that.’ ]

“I… guess so…”

[ ‘I’m sorry.’ ]

“Uh, don’t be. It’s… f-fine.” She moves her hand dismissively like he could see it. “Any who, Eddie left some of things behind and I’ve been meaning to give it back to him. But I seemed to keep missing him these last few days. I was wondering if he’s home so I could drop by and give it to him?”

She heard him go quiet again, making the knot recoil again. I am literally the worst liar in the world. Has he figured it out yet?

“Um, hello–”

[ ‘He’s not here right now. He’s out with his friends practicing their music. I can give you the address they’re at, if you like?’ ]

Steph smiles, and quietly sighs with relief. “Oh, yes. That’ll be wonderful. Thank you, Mr. Munson.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Stephanie pulls her car up a few houses down from the correct spot. She could see Gareth Brooks’ garage was open, and she occasionally saw the group of boys moving around (Seriously, how do they have that open during winter?). Her scarred hands fidgeted against the steering before tugging on her parka collar, too nervous and uncomfortable at the situation. Should she back down? Should she wait until they start leaving? Or what if they’re staying the night? Then what? She’ll just look like a creep to the whole block. 

She takes a deep breath, fixing her beanie one last time before exiting the vehicle. She carefully maneuvers herself across the icy road, soon shifting on the snow covered sidewalk. She could hear laughter and chattered as soon as she got onto the driveway. Steph hesitated when she got close to the top, a split second away from running back to her car when she saw that they noticed her. The teenagers all stopped immediately upon seeing her, a mixture of confusion and surprise was on their faces that made her get second hand embarrassment. 

She clears her throat, nervously twitching her hands in her pockets. “Hi, uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt. Um…” Her tired blue orbs shift over to the ring leader. “Your Uncle Wayne gave me this address. Um, I… I heard you… sell stuff?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Eddie slides the van’s side door open, crawling inside before allowing her in. “Sorry for the mess.” He says, closing the door. “I didn’t expect company any time soon.”

“Sorry for crashing.” Steph says, sitting down in a clutter free spot. “And, uh, sorry in advance, I… might have lied to your Uncle about why I wanted to meet up with you.”

“Oh.” He says, intrigued as he sits on his knees catty corner from her (Giving his girl guest an appropriate amount of personal space). “How so?”

“Um…” She sighs. “I told him that you had helped with something in school and you left something behind. I told him I’ve been trying to return your stuff to you for a while. He seemed to have bought it. Hopefully...”

He snorts. “Well, my Uncle Wayne can go both ways. He’s either very perceptive or very naive.” He watches her chuckle quietly at his comment, before noticing she was playing with her hands.

A nervous tick? Possibly? He clears his throat. “Sooooo, what are you looking for?”

“Um….” She looks at her feet. “Do you have anything that could help me sleep? Or feel drowsy enough to doze off?” She shrugs. “I-I know that sounds really stupid, and you probably don’t carry stuff like that. B-But I thought I’d… st-still ask. So… yeah.”

She could feel him looking at her from head to toe before replying, “I don’t think I have anything like that. I mean, I got weed, but that’s more of a relaxer and not something to knock you out.”

Steph nods. “I… thought so.” She bites her lip as her eyes trail across the floor, coming across something that piqued her interest. “Can I have one of those?”

Eddie follows her gaze to a half a pack of cigarettes on the floor. “Uh, sure.” He quickly finds a lighter for her as she grabs a white stick after shedding her gloves off (His gaze noticing the small scars on her back hands). He waits patiently for her to take a few inhales before saying, “Don’t take this the wrong way, Henderson, but you don’t look so hot.”

She blows smoke with another nod, knowing how shitty she must look to an outsider. “I know. That’s why I need sleep. I haven’t slept since…” She tries not to shutter. “I got back.”

His brows push together. “Back? Back from where?”

“Back from the… kidnapping.”

His face falls. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” She sighs for the millionth time today. “I keep… seeing things, and it wakes me up, and I’ve only had an hour of sleep. Maybe less. I’m like barely hanging on.” She locks her tired eyes with his, making sure he understands her next words. “And… I’m trying not to take stuff every night because I don’t want to become addicted, or accidentally OD or something, but… I need sleep. Badly.” Another sigh and a long swig. “Or, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”

Or, maybe I already have lost my mind. Stephanie was expecting him to look at her like she was crazy, not to be looking at her with some major concern. We don’t even know each other that well, why is he–

“Have you tried talking to someone about it?” He asks, after finding the right words to say. “Or, are you… not doing that?”

She breaks eye contact briefly, replying, “Will, the boy that was with me, and I both agreed not to talk about it. Not unless it’s been us, and us only.” She bites her lip. “The things we saw, the things we did, no one should go through that. And…” How does she explain it? “And I thought by… accepting what happened was the key to stopping all this, but… I think it’s not working because I’m missing something in my memory.”

She shakingly sighs again, finishing with, “So, I’m either torn between getting a good night’s sleep is the key to get out of this, or if remembering the missing puzzle piece is what would finally stop these nightmares. So… yeah.”

Steph takes another long drag while Eddie is processing all the information (And how does he respond to all this trauma dumping?). “So, it was… that bad, huh?” He says, as she nods.

“Yep.” She pops the ‘p’. “It was the longest week of my life. I’ve never been so exhausted, hungry, angry, and upset like I was there.” She chuckles dryly. “I mean, I don’t regret driving him, driving Will, I… I’m glad I was there with him. I’m a big sister, so it’s in my nature to protect. I mean I lost a lot sleep, I got hurt physically and emotional a lot, I even died once and–”

“Wait, wait, wait, Henderson. Back up.” Eddie says, trying to wrap his head around again at all this info. “You died?”

The color drains from her face. “Shit. I was supposed to say that.”

“So, it’s true?” He says, panicking in his tone and face. “You actually fucking died? For real? Like, not when they said that you and Byers drowned in the Quarry?”

“Y-Yes. Exactly. For real, and not in the Quarry.”

“W-Wha…”

“I was protecting Will, so…” 

Eddie took yet another moment to take everything in before mumbling, “Jesus Christ…”

“Look, Munson–” Steph locks eyes with him. “You cannot tell anyone I said that. Especially to my brother or my mom. I-I can’t…” She swallows. “That’s… that’s what I keep seeing in my dreams, and… it wasn’t exactly kid-friendly.”

“Okay.” He holds his hands up in defense. “Okay. I won’t. But, Jesus, Henderson, are you sure you don’t want to talk to someone?”

She smacks her lips and takes another puff. “No therapist can help me with what I saw. If I talk, they might send me to fucking Pennhurst.” She laughs a little louder this time. “I can see the goddamn headline now. ‘Stephanie ‘The Freak’ Henderson, who believes in other worlds, is being sent for serious treatment at Pennhurst Mental Institution’. I’m sure everyone in fucking school would love that.”

He frowns, worried again. “You’re not a Freak.”

“Oh, I am. I’ve heard ‘Freak’ plenty of times growing up.” Steph flashes him a bittersweet smile. “All because I’m not a ‘girly-girl’. I love grudge and metal music; Most days I wear all black, fishnet with some big ol’ combat boots. I rather go hunting with guns than trying out for the cheer squad or theater. I’m the complete opposite of what girls should say, do, or look in High School.”

She groans, and continues, “I have been called a lot of things over the years, and most of the time I can ignore it, but as the grades go up in school, so do the insults.” She frowns. “I even got a new one when I returned back to my classes. ‘Zombie Girl’. Now, it’s understandable, yet new. But it still… sucks. I think it only hurts worse because I know they’re calling Will, ‘Zombie Boy’, too.”

“That is worse because he’s a kid.” Eddie pointed out bitterly. “He’s twelve.”

“And bullying comes in all ages.” She quips back. “There’s nothing we can do about it. I mean, the whole town thought we drowned. Our families had funerals, the school held their own memorials, and then they come to find out days later that we’re actually alive.” She frowns. “I’m surprised you’re not staring at me like I’m a freak.”

“I don’t know if you recall, but ‘The Freak’ is literally my middle name at this point.” He says, crossing his arms. “And yeah, maybe me and the boys were kind of staring at you like that when you walked into Gareth’s garage, and I’m sorry about that, but if anyone in the school knows what you’re going through, is us.” He flashes a warm smile, which she returns. “And us Freaks gotta stick together sometimes.”

“Thanks, Eddie.” She replies, truthfully. “Honestly, I’ve just been hanging out with my brother and his friends for lunch. It’s kind of sad, and I hate that I keep crashing their party.” 

“Well, you could always hang out with us, if you like? We don’t mind.”

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother. I just–” She pauses when she notices something peeking out of his heavy jacket. “Is that a D&D reference on your shirt?”

“Huh?” He looks down and pulls his jacket open for her to see his club T-Shirt. “Oh, yeah. Made it myself for our club.” He tilts his head out of curiosity. “You play D&D?”

She holds her hand up at his excitement. “Hold your horses, I’m still pretty new. Will kind of chatted to me about it when it was just the two of us. Then when we’re in the hospital, his friends brought the game over. I’ve only played two– no, three games– sorry, campaigns.”

“Well, that’s still pretty cool.” He grins. “What’s your character?”

“A Ranger. I mostly did it to spite Lucas who says they’re boring, so…”

“You got a name?”

“Steph the Courageous. Will gave it to me.”

“How’d you earn that?”

Steph smirks proudly. “I killed the Demogorgon. First try.”

He laughs. “Well ain’t that something.” He says, popping up to his feet. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to the gang.”

“Sure you want me to crash your guys’ little hangout?” She asks, as he offers his hand to help her up.

“I insist.” Eddie says, pulling her to her feet and cracking the door back open. “Besides, I think we could use a little… ‘feminine’ energy.”

Steph scoffs once outside, facing him and gesturing to herself. “Might want to keep looking. Have you seen the way I dress?” Her response gets another laugh out of him. “What are you guys playing? An original?”

“Nah, today we’re kind of just messing around. We’re playing some Dío today.”

She perks up at the news. “I love Dío.”

“Really?” He says, as they start walking. 

“Yeah. I love that type of music.”

“You know, that would explain why you were at our show. Harrington mentioned you went to our Lover’s Lake concert.” Eddie says, getting her to shrug. 

“Yeah, I did. It was raining cats and dogs out there, but I still enjoyed it.” She takes one last puff of the cigarette before putting it on the ground. “You guys have a very… Metallica and Van Halen kind of sound.” She pauses. “If that makes sense.”

“Well, that’s quite the compliment.” His grin grows. “Did you know I was actually named after Eddie Van Halen?”

“Shut up. Really?” She says, as he nods eagerly. “That explains the hair now.”

He laughs again and fiddles with the ends of his chocolate locks. “Oh, yeah. Gotta keep up with my name sake.”

“I kind of wish I was named after an idol like that.” Steph admits, forgetting how exhausted she was just moments ago (I guess talking to someone does help). “I’m glad we have a lot in common. Are we sure we’re not related, Munson?”

“Maybe.” He hums. “My Dad’s Alan. You?”

“Walter. Your Mom?”

“Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth?” Steph says, surprised. “That’s my middle name.”

“Really?” He asks, in the same tone as her. 

“Yeah.” She replies, smiling. “What a small world. I just found out I have a doppelgänger in Hawkins.”

He snorts, excitement growing at her words. “Doppelgänger. I like it! Hey, guys!” He called out as they got closer to the garage. “I found my doppelgänger!” Steph finds herself laughing now, as he suddenly slings his arm around her shoulder like she was one of the guys. “Welcome to Hellfire, Steph The Courageous.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve tugged on his sweater as he slipped out the back door of his home, his parents screaming becoming muffled when he closed it. The cut on his lip and forehead stung at the cold air, the twitching under his eye indicated that a bruise was going to form anytime soon if he didn’t apply ice. But, tending to his injuries was the least of his worries right now. They told him that they wanted him out of the house as soon as possible, and frankly he didn’t want to stick around long enough for them to decide to change their crazy minds.

He already stuffed a few of his valuables in his car, and all he needed was a box or a suitcase of some sort to put a good portion of his clothes in. Hence why he’s outside wandering around the covered pool and towards the shed, his icy hands fiddling with the combination on the pad lock. 

Once inside he flips the switch on over head, squinting in the terrible lighting as he tries to find something. He’s ninety-nine percent sure that his grandpa’s suitcase is in here somewhere. It might be the most busted up thing he’s ever seen, hell, not even the wheels or one of the handles work properly, but hey, he’ll take what he can get.

He shifts a few things around, almost grabbing an empty tote when his hopes started to fade, but there it was. Tucked in a far corner and underneath a few other things he finally finds the suitcase. He sighs with relief, his breath seen in the air as he pulls it out and holds it close. He back tracks out, and locks the shed, bracing himself to go back inside the madhouse.

I just need to get in and get out while they’re arguing. Do it quickly before they decide they change their mind and give me another black eye. He starts stepping back on the concrete around the pool–

.

*CRACK!!*

.

Steve froze at the sound of the tree branch, carefully turning around to see what it was. There in the fading sunlight was the familiar bald headed girl still dressed in the outfit she had on when he left her in that gym that fateful day. 

His eyes widened in shock, completely lost for words until he said, “Holy shit…”

(TBC)

A/N: See you Season 2!

-Taglist is Open-

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@mirkwoodshewolf @sadbitchfangirl @olivewisp

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[bluedalahorse]

This is a Sara and August Appreciation Post (Favorite Non-Wilmon Overall Ship)

A post written for YRFavesFest2024, graciously hosted by @youngroyals-events. This is in response to prompt #6.

They’re so awkward. I love them.

If I learned anything from the historical example of Vasa, it’s that some ships are destined to sink. But lo, they sink so majestically that you must cherish them and build an entire museum dedicated to their cultural significance.

Such are my feelings for Sara and August. They have been my two very favorite characters in Young Royals from day one, and also they are in love? They’re both so deeply flawed, with so much chemistry, and they’re both so very lonely, that you can see why they’re drawn to one another like magnets.

Truly, I could honor saraugust in any number of ways, but I realized looking back that they were above all extremely fun to write about. So in this post, I’ve put together snippets from fics I’ve written about Sara and August, both finished/published and unfinished/unpublished, that showcase all the fun I’ve had with their dynamic over the years.

I’m going to put the fic snippets below a cut, as this post will be as long as Malte is tall. Also, as a heads up, there will be some excerpts that trend a bit naughty, but never anything explicit. Enjoy!

Terrain Boundaries Territory was the first fic I wrote for them in summer of 2021. I went into a two-week fugue state and forgot to do anything else while I worked out the story.

In TBT, Sara decides she’s going to get revenge on August for how he treated Simon. She decides she’s going to do that by dating him, finding out all his secrets, and ruining him somehow. Of course, as Sara and August get closer and more entangled, things get more complicated between them.

I used this fic to discover characterizations for Sara and August, mostly, and figured out what made them tick. It really helped me to bond with them as characters. I feel like my Simon is reasonably characterized, but the other secondary characters need… a lot of work. At this point the show was new, I was lurking, and I couldn’t even keep the character names straight. It showed.

I wrote TBT right when I got into verse novels, so it’s in verse. I also decided I was going to write Sara’s POV as a second person narrator, to put the reader uncomfortably close to what she’s thinking and feeling. These things are fun to play with in an MFA program, but they’re a bit risky for fanfiction, where a lot of fans prefer familiar tropes and writing styles. I still love that this fic reignited my passion for writing fanfiction in general.

Also there’s a Fleabag reference that no reader has found yet. Beat you to the punch, Lisa.

An excerpt:

There is a floorboard in the hallway where August’s step hesitates, a door on his left like a gap between fangs. In the evening, now sober, you return without him— stand in the threshold of the door and sniff each layer of dust, catalogue the shrouded furniture, the landscapes painted in storms of oils, the one tall harp, out of tune. Footsteps, doubling back. His shadow touches your shoulders and, This is where we found my Pappa dead. Like he didn’t mean to say it out loud. Did he know he was being too honest? You know what that’s like.

Next excerpt comes from an unfinished, August-POV sequel to Terrain Boundaries Territory I was writing in Fall and Winter of 2021. After TBT, I was asking myself: well, how did August manage to fall in love with Sara? I could feel, instinctively, that he was going to fall in love with her, whenever season 2 of YR came around. I just wanted to work out what it would look like. I started to play with the idea that maybe he dates her to deflect any suspicion about the video, but starts to soften toward her as he realizes they have a lot of loneliness and grief in common.

In this scene, Sara’s just had a meltdown during a clash between Marieberg and Hillerska students. Sara and August are just starting to date publicly, and everyone has thoughts, including Sara’s old bullies. They’re nasty to her, and Rosh (who happens to be both Present and Intimidating) tells them off. Sara runs away, and August goes to find her.

They talk:

“So you have some friends at Marieberg.” “They’re Simon’s friends. They only like me because of Simon.” Oh. Shit. If August were a good boyfriend (which, he isn’t) and this were a real relationship (it’s not, they just need one another for appearances) he’d tell Sara I like you because of you. Maybe also I’ll always put you first. They’ve only been official for a short while, but guys have whispered bolder lies into a new girlfriend’s hair. That’s sort of how relationships work, isn’t it? Always moving too fast and lying. August wants to say that because Sara’s brushed aside the graveyard dirt that covers up an old memory: his first parents’ weekend, back when he was a gangly kid with no muscle definition and no idea how to dress himself, when he told his mamma people only like me because Erik makes them. That put a shocked expression on Mamma’s face. Then she forgot just ten minutes later, when she told August she was seeing people again. Three years and becoming prefect should have dulled August’s memories of that weekend, but now unearthed, the memories only make the present feel fake. Sara’s closed in on herself—head bowed, eyes on the ground, now ungloved hands clutching at her elbows. Inside Sara must feel cold, raw, bruised, inert. Like forgotten meat at the back of a freezer. It’s not fair that she should feel that. Not when she’s smart and detail-oriented and secretly daring. Not when she’s the sort of girl who becomes a social media heroine for rescuing cats. August is too scared of saying I like you, even as he’s counting all the reasons people should like Sara. So instead he asks, “Do you want me to hold you?” Sara nods. August follows the advice of football scarf girl and hugs Sara tight. She doesn’t tense up—it’s the first time he’s felt her relax, actually. That he’s noticed. If he’s going to pull off this fake boyfriend thing, maybe he should notice more. “You asked,” says Sara. “You’ve never asked before.” Talking into his coat, she adds, “I need somewhere to rest.” “I told you, you can always use my room.” “Somewhere to actually rest.” “I know. I understand. Come on.” He takes her hand and leads her back to the dorms.

Next, in early 2022, @heliza24 and I began publishing Heart and Homeland, our ensemble regency AU. I think to this day, we’re one of the few true ensemble fics in YR fandom that gives all five main characters roughly equal POV time, but I could be wrong about that. I intend to finish the epilogue chapters in 2025.

Anyway, I felt like I had a solid grasp on Sara and August at this point, and also I love period dramas. Do you know how exciting it was for me to write them in a troubled gothic romance situation? Sara’s the governess for Felice’s younger sisters, and August is attending Hillerska with Simon and Wilhelm while also being engaged to Felice. Felice breaks off her engagement to August though, and then after a Series Of Dramatic Events, Sara and August run off together.

The first twentysome chapters of the fic were written before season 2, and I think I did a reasonably good job predicting Sara and August’s dynamic. Also, they hooked up in a moving carriage, so I may have predicted a Bridgerton season as well, oops. Anyway, here’s a scene from the morning after that hookup, and if you’ve read far enough into the story, you know this will have tragic resonance later on:

Sara tugged the dressing gown tighter around her shoulders. August sat beside her on the bed, careful not to upset his mug. An aroma from Sara’s childhood filled the air, and she remembered how Pappa, in his better moods, used to let her grind coffee beans when he came back from his voyages. Preparing coffee for Pappa and Mamma helped Sara to feel useful, even though she had not been allowed to drink it herself. “That’s coffee, isn’t it?” Sara asked. The smell never bothered her the way it did Simon, after Pappa was arrested for smuggling it. “It is,” said August. “Her Majesty’s ban doesn’t really apply here with us. It is really only for the general public’s benefit, to help them moderate their vices.” Vices. Sara felt she had not indulged hers enough. “May I have some coffee?” “You may.” August handed Sara the mug, and Sara drank as he drawled on. “Speaking of Her Majesty, she is in good health, although of course it distressed her to learn of last night’s events. I am glad I was the one to bring her the news and reassure her of His Highness’s well-being. One needs the support of family at such dire times.” He was showing off now, speaking breezily about his connections to the monarchy, as if Sara herself hadn’t danced with the prince earlier. “Her Majesty has already implied that I should stay in town for the coming days so that I can assist Wille as he returns to the palace. I will be back and forth between here and there. You must promise not to fret too much when I’m out.” “I am capable of occupying myself, and you are quite committed to serving the realm. We will manage a few hours apart,” said Sara. A moment later she realized that he probably wanted her to say something else. Felice had explained once that boys sometimes expressed such sentiments so that girls could reassure them of their devotion. “Of course in practice, I am sure I will miss you, and that you will miss me.” Things were moving fast. Sara took a final long sip of coffee before handing the mug back to August. “Here you are.” August looked down into the mug. “You drank all of it.” “You will have to bring me more, then.” Sara smiled.

Now that we’ve had Sara and August in the historical past, let’s move on to some fic where they find one another again in the future! While I am very satisfied with their breakup at the end of season 3, and think it’s what was right for them, I sometimes imagine a possible future where they can try again and things work out for them. Why? Because I like seeing them kiss. It’s really not that deep.

Here’s something unfinished I wrote after season 3, where the Swedish people are about to vote on a referendum about whether or not they want to end the monarchy. August (who has been through a lot of character development and worked to make things up with Simon) just assumes everyone is going to vote to end the monarchy, so he’s doing everything he can to make sure the transition goes smoothly and that they can give the monarchy a good “funeral” and such. Meanwhile, Sara is working a toxic nonprofit job that takes advantage of her passion to make the world a better place. And wouldn’t you know it? They’re crossing paths:

August nods and exits out through the double doors, and just like that, Sara becomes a royal guest. Perhaps one of the last royal guests ever, if last week’s polling data means anything. She hopes no one will interview her for a documentary about it in the future. There’s a farcical moment two minutes afterward where August sticks his head back in and says he’s forgotten his sunscreen, and Sara hands him the bottle before he goes out again. It’s a brand she’s never seen before—something ridiculously expensive and high SPF. Fragrance free, too. Sara can’t help watching through the windows as August rubs the sunscreen onto the back of his neck and onto his exposed forearms. Can’t help wondering if she’d have rubbed it in for him, admonishing him like you know you burn so easily, if they’d had their summer weekends in Bjärstad during his military service like he’d wanted. Still, Sara hadn’t wanted it, then, and that thought should be enough to push herself back into fifteen minute stretches of newsletter edits and donor emails. Sara reminds herself of her bosses’ talking points: that PuzzleChildrens’ oldest donors appreciate the paper copies of the newsletter they receive each month, that the personal stories of lost children remind them where their money is going, that Sara is doing so well at communicating with people and that she shouldn’t worry too much about creating a perfect product, only one that reaches people’s hearts. She opens up a colleague’s story about a pitiable single mother in Luleå called Maja, whose eleven-year-old daughter Saga has been “stolen” by a serious disease. The colleague is older and touchy, so Sara phrases all her line edits delicately. What she really wants to type is: Don’t call meltdowns “tantrums.” Of course Saga has empathy, she loves her dog and she probably feels that very deeply. And for fuck’s sake arm flapping isn’t a “babyish gesture.” But no. She can’t respond like that. Not with the amount of money these newsletters raise, not when her older colleagues don’t know things, and she was the one hired to educate them. Sara thinks that maybe, the cotton of her sundress would be better if it were rougher. If she could run the nail of her index finger across her hip and it would hurt just enough to remind her how to communicate with people at work so they don’t think she’s a freak. Eventually Sara’s phone buzzes with an incoming text, pulling her out of her thoughts. Do you want something to drink? It’s from August. Sara looks up, and he’s still outdoors on the balcony. He glances in Sara’s direction and offers her a stiff—but not unfriendly—wave. The glass between them is impossibly clean, probably scrubbed this morning by the staff at Solliden. Sara texts back. I don’t want to trouble you too much. Are you having something? Seltzer. There’s a local brand that just launched, they do one with an elderflower and pear infusion. August makes a face at his phone (Sara’s still watching him, it’s that twisting expression his mouth sometimes makes when he’s embarrassed himself, like he’s gotten an unexpected taste of sour candy) and types a follow up. It’s less pretentious than it sounds. You can have what you want though. We’re well-stocked here. Seltzer sounds good, Sara responds. I’ll have that, thanks.

Do I have other future scenarios? Yes. One of them involves Sara and August on a road trip back to Sweden (they can’t do air travel because of a volcanic explosion in Iceland) so they can get to Wilhelm and Simon’s engagement party in time. This is a future set after August leaves the monarchy behind, but hasn’t explained to anyone why and it’s a bit of an incident. Sara is working a shitty nonprofit job in this story idea, too, since the road trip idea was sort of a 2.0 iteration of what you see above.

Anyway, when I think about them as adults, I enjoy letting them be a little bit kinky. Mostly because they both seem to have intense sensory needs and would also like figuring out the power exchanges, and also because you can have a scenario where Sara’s tried more kinks than August has, and it reverses the experience dynamic they have as teenagers. Like this:

Sara presses the brush bristles down onto August’s open palm. It’s only a little bit of extra pressure, spread out over multiple prickling points, but it sends a current up his arm and through his chest. August draws in a sharp breath. He and Sara meet eyes. They’re studying one another now, like they’ve both been hit by the realization that it’s been over ten years and they’ve tried other things with other partners. “So.” Sara smiles out of one corner of her mouth. “You like a little bit of pain?” “Maybe,” says August. “I mean, life at the palace was pretty conservative, so I didn’t get to explore much—” “Please.” Sara is the one laughing now, and there’s a mixture of affection and disdain in it that makes something in August’s stomach curl. “Royals get away with doing all kinds of kinky shit.” “Not me,” says August. “I was working all the time.” His face flushes as he realizes how embarrassing it sounds—Sara’s giving him an are you kidding me look—but there’s also something hot about it at the same time. About wanting to squirm under her gaze. “We could try something tonight,” says Sara. “if you want.” “We promised ourselves we wouldn’t.” “We said we wouldn’t touch each other. And we won’t. I’m only going to touch you with the brush. Do you want me to explain?”

Sara domming is fantastic, but I also kind of imagine saraugust as a couple with with swtichy vibes. Which is why in L��escarpolette, twentysomething Sara has a surreal sex dream about getting tied up on a swing while she’s wearing her Valentine’s ball clothes:

August kneels, and that’s when Sara knows she has him where she wants him. Or, he has her where he wants her. Whichever is the truth. August reaches for Sara’s foot—the one that hasn’t lost its ballet flat—and his eyes meet Sara’s as he slides the shoe off and sets it aside. He bends down further to kiss her ankle. A current of electricity travels up Sara’s leg. The sensation leaves Sara twitching and ticklish. August seizes the hem of her skirts and lifts. Out of the corner of Sara’s eye she glimpses the firelight down at the bottom of the hill, where the mysterious eighteenth century party frolics on. Perhaps sparks of that light glint in people’s eyes or in the lenses of their opera glasses as they swivel their gaze toward the hill… Sara’s balance falters. She tips backward. “Wait wait wait.” August lets go of Sara’s skirts and claps his hands back around her waist, steadying her before she can hit the ground. “I want to make sure you don’t fall.” He’s so earnest, and Sara still feels ticklish. She giggles, and August joins her, and for a moment they are consumed by the giddiness that comes with carrying out an odd and daring experiment in the night. But how to avoid falling? Sara follows the line of the swing’s ropes upward. Oh. Those flowering vines hanging down from the tree branches. They’re waving ever so slightly in the breeze, as if they’re trying to get her attention in secret. In her waking life, Sara sometimes imagines what it would be like to tie up a lover. Or what it would be like to ask a lover to tie her up. She’s never felt like she could ask anyone. Maybe here…

To finish off this post, let’s talk canon divergences. I once had a commenter on one of my fics say that they saw Sara and August as a case of Right Person, Wrong Timing. I can get behind this idea myself, and it’s always made me wonder what their relationship would be like when they met earlier, when August is raw from grief in his first year at Hillerska, and Sara is still experiencing bullying in public school. I’ve started a fic along those lines, and I’m hoping to finish it soon for events in January or February.

Looks like Sara and August are going to have to escape a situation together:

The boy in the closet with her is pale and slim. He twitches and groans softly. Something pinches inside Sara’s chest. Sympathy? He looks as trapped here as she is, and Sara wants to trust him. Just so she isn’t alone. She crawls over to the boy and kneels at his side. She keeps a house key in her palm just in case. His eyes flutter open halfway. “You’re awake,” Sara says. “Fuck.” He blinks. “You’re… Sara?” “Yes,” she says. It’s a relief to hear someone say her name aloud, even though he’s a stranger. “Did you hit your head when you fell?” Haltingly, the boy pushes himself up to a sitting position. “I’m… not sure.” “You should check.” He’s quite tall, Sara notices. And he’s sitting still, not checking his head like she told him to. Sara can’t tell from looking at him if he has any lumps on his head; he has thick, dark curls that hide that. She’d have to run her fingers through his hair if she was going to help him check. Will she have to? The boy hasn’t moved yet. It’s like he’s in a daze.  Sara’s fingers twitch. She’s impatient. Before she can raise her hands and look the boy over, to make sure that he’s safe, he finally shakes himself alert and moves his hands to his hair. “No lumps,” the boy says. “So I’m alright.” His eyes land on Sara. “Are you…” Sara replies with the truth. “They locked me in here for hours. We need to get out.”

Anyway. Do you see how much these two fuel me? Do you see The Vision? More fic to come on a tumblr near you!

[leosficlist]

POST S-4 Getting Together

These fics are about their relationship Post Season 4, which could include apologies and fix-its, or simply fics which acknowledged the events of S4!

Post S4 pt2, Post S4 pt3

Bridges by sussexbound 🔒6.6k words

The silence between them is deafening, interrupted only by the hum of the traffic outside, and the soft click-clunk of the plastic cups Rosie is playing with on the floor beside them. It is the first time they have been alone together, since Sherlock’s birthday. It’s only been two days, but it feels huge, important, like there is a precarious bridge stretched out before them both that they need to at least attempt to traverse.

Nocturne by Atiki 6.6k words

All the most important conversations happen at night.

holding steady by darcylindbergh 12.7k words

“Sitting on a thick wool blanket at the end of a rickety dock side-by-side, legs dangling over the edge, a styrofoam container of wet, dark dirt between them, they’re fishing.”

John knows what this is about. This is about finally figuring it out.

notes: post-everything, no eurus mention, getting away for the weekend

Finally Home by LondonSpirit 🔒 3.5k words

“After the final problem is solved, after everything's resolved, and Sherlock and John have returned to a more or less ordinary life, there's only one ting left to do.

But can they eventually admit what everyone else already knew for a long time, or are they still too blind to see?”

Sehnsucht by unicornpoe 14.7k

Sehnsucht: longing, pining, yearning, craving, intensely missing. An individual’s search for happiness while coping with the reality of unattainable wishes.

John is here now, yes, yes he is. He and Rosie are back home in 221B with Sherlock, safe where they belong... but why is there still a hole deep inside Sherlock, wide and gaping and consuming? Does John feel it too? And what will it take to fill it?

Alternative Facts by SwissMiss 🔒10k words

It was so nice to see they'd finally got things sorted. After all they'd been through, they deserved to be happy. (Or: Five times people imagined what John and Sherlock get up to in the bedroom, and one time we see what they really get up to.)

Six Dates by AvaWtsn 7.4k

A rather accidental 5+1 written for the prompt "is this a date?" Hint: it is.

notes: the first 6 fridays after John moves back in

Whisper To Me by Chrysanthemumsies 20.7k words

Sherlock picks up playing the guitar. John falls more and more in love with every passing day.

notes: John struggling with his feelings, slowly creeping together

Questions and Answers by Pipmer 3.1k

It was useless. What was the point? No amount of talking was ever going to change that John wasn’t interested, and never would be. The only way he would be tempted to pull up house again would be if the practical advantages were enormous, and they just weren’t. Why else would he even consider it?

notes: Sherlock wants John & Rosie to move back in

Once Upon A Time by darcylindbergh 6.5k

It starts with a wish.

In the beginning, John comes home.

notes: fluffy soft warm

Getting On With It by StarlightandFireflies 8k words

“What is it?” Sherlock finally asked, staring into his tea. “Nothing,” John said quickly. After all, he could hardly just come out and say the truth: It’s just hit me again, all this. I’ve realized I’m here, and you’re here, and for some reason you don’t hate me, and yet I’ve got no bloody idea where to go from here.  I want to do right by you but it’s hitting me as if for the first time that I’ve no clue how to do that, even though it’s what you deserve. Rated M for chapter 2

notes: "your heart's always been in the right place" "for you John, yes"

Negative Space by Standbygo 8.8k words

John takes a drawing class, but drawing Sherlock has unexpected results.

notes: John’s in therapy, Sherlock goes to John’s art show

Home by liriodendron 2.9k words

Sherlock opens his mouth to ask how he can make the pain go away, but he realizes halfway through that he doesn't know how one asks such a thing, so the only word that escapes his lips is, "John..."

There is a sharp intake of breath at his name, and then John says in a voice like a broken radio, "Take me home, Sherlock."

notes: sex for comfort post-mary's death

Out Of The Woods by SilentAuror

Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

notes: pining Sherlock, miscommunications, then oodles of fluff, love confessions, virginlock, john plots a romantic date

[ecargmura]

Dandadan Episode 12 Review + Final Thoughts - You're Ending It Like That?

The way this ended was absolutely FOUL! What do you mean I have to wait until July for season 2? Like you can’t just end it there and say “See you in about seven months!” What a way to get people hyped for the next cour yet so evil too.

Basically, the finale is about the aftermath of the Taro and Hana situation with the kids prostrating to Seiko to allow Hana to stay in the Ayase residence. That way, Taro can sneak out at night and visit his love. The way he does it is so hilarious because he just runs even when there are students in sight; the sight of him taking the train got me chuckling. He was able to make it back despite getting dissembled due to a truck that did not isekai him. It also turns out that the shining ‘ball’ on Taro wasn’t Okarun’s ball but a Christmas ornament. This part was hilarious but it’s cute to see how devoted Taro is to Hana. I’ve also noticed that these minor spirits like the Mantis Shrimp play some sort of role later on, so I get this feeling that the same might apply to Taro and/or Hana.

The episode then transitions to Okarun, Momo and Jiji going to Jiji’s house to see what the source of the curse is. Also, I’m convinced that Jiji’s energy is a mix of being an extrovert and also sleep deprivation because that guy cannot sleep properly and is probably trying to fight it off by being as silly as possible so no one would worry. Regardless, Jiji and Okarun actually do get along well as Jiji is open-minded and accepting. This makes Okarun feel more insecure because his love rival is a good guy and it would make it harder for him to win Momo’s affections. 

To be honest, I think their friendship and rivalry is adorable. Okarun doesn’t have male friends because of the constant bullying he got from other boys in school, so it would be nice if Jiji becomes his first friend. Momo is so nice for wanting them to get along hence why she left so the two can bond. I don’t remember the last time I saw two guys childishly fight over a girl they both like. Usually, male rivalries are full of silence, but it’s nice to see them express their mutual love for Momo and be petty about it too. Like I said before, it’s like a gender-bent version of two girls realizing they both like the same guy and fighting over it.

Before moving to the Ayase’s, Jiji used to live in a small town in the mountains. His father is a researcher who studies volcanoes and works at a nearby university before his hospitalization. Jiji’s energy makes so much sense given that mountainous areas are steep, so you have to be athletic or full of stamina to survive. Jiji has the energy and the stamina to climb three flight of stairs while Momo becomes exhausted and Okarun just dies. Though, the townspeople are creepy, especially the ones spying on the kids. The men are especially creepy with how they get into the same bath as Momo and are trying to assault her. *sigh* Momo has terrible luck when it comes to creeps…

But yeah, I do wonder what that weird foyer’s deal is…and that answer will have to wait until Summer. Did you know that in Western countries, fall is considered spooky season while Asian countries consider summer to be spooky season? Ghost stories are often exchanged or told in the summer, which makes absolute sense why Dandadan, a paranormal and supernatural show would return for the summer—it’s to fulfill the spooky vibes.

Final Thoughts

Dandadan was definitely the hit show for this season. Everyone keeps talking about it whether it be positively or negatively. I can see why it’s so popular. Not only is it a Jump title, but it has the ‘anime’ feel to it as it mixes action and zaniness in one. It’s not realistic and it doesn’t have to be—it’s just something fun to look at and enjoy.

I like the unique batch of characters this story has. What I like most is that they’re essentially gender reversed versions of the shounen character tropes. While Momo and Okarun share the role as co-protagonists, both are written in a way that they have traits that are normally reserved for characters of the opposite gender. Momo is blunt, abrasive and has a rude way of speaking, which is normally seen in male shounen MCs, but she also has a heart of gold and that is what attracts people to her. Okarun is a shrinking violet who Momo helps out one day and they become fast friends despite their differences in beliefs. Okarun would be the quintessential shy love interest who develops a crush on the MC and makes it their entire personality, but he does have a personality outside of Momo, which is a good thing, and his crush is used to help him grow and develop. Aira, Jiji and Seiko are unique too! However, I also like that they give personality to the supernatural creatures they encounter like Turbo Granny, Acrobatic Silky, etc. Usually, these sorts of villains would just be textbook evil for the heck of it or just throwaways, but the story does take time to let the readers know what sort of people they are underneath. Turbo Granny protects the souls of girls who died tragically in the tunnel; Acrobatic Silky was once a mom who had a daughter but failed to protect her; Mantis Shrimp was only a villain because he needed to help his son Chiquitita.

The voice acting is really good! Dandadan is one of those Jump titles that uses little new faces and more veterans. The only new face in the cast is Shion Wakayama, technically. Yet, she nails Momo so hard that it’s hard to believe that she started off voicing quiet, shy girls. Everyone else does a splendid job as to be expected of professionals. The English dub also does a spectacular job. I still can’t believe they got Kari Wahlgren and Barbara Goodson to return to anime dubbing. It’s amazing what a good production can do!

Though, I do like the animation and music the most when it comes to this anime. The animation is just so fluid and I really like how Science Saru takes time to give movement to each shot. I also like the music too! The piano score from Episode 7 really gets to me. Whoever did the music needs a raise, ASAP.

I guess a few gripes I have is that Dandadan is aggressively the most Japanese show I’ve seen this season. What I mean by that is that Dandadan does fall victim to the usual anime cliches at times, but it’s not an entirely bad thing. I just feel like some things in it are typical of animes like the unsightly scenes of the first and final episodes to action-packed scenes reminiscent of classic anime shows. People on social media do like to say that there are other cultural influences in Dandadan, but I disagree. Dandadan is very, VERY Japanese from the talk about supernatural powers to Japanese people’s views on aliens. I won’t get into too much detail as I am not Japanese myself, but it is one of those shows that could work in a Western setting, but it wouldn’t have the same flair.

Overall, Dandadan is a show I would recommend to people if they want something fun to watch without thinking too much into it. My brother is always telling me to read the manga as he says it’s better, so I might check out the manga if I get the chance. Let me know your thoughts on the finale and the anime as a whole!