#and at the time an acquaintance of mine looked over my shoulder and said “why does he look like the disney version of a pedo”

[captain-crowfish]

I drew this years ago and I'm still not sure what I was on about

[blakeswritingimagines]

She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy

Summary: Going out to the country to spend the summer with your grandparents wasn't ever new to you... but the new cute ranch hand is.

Warnings: Pining, Slight use of Y/N, Blowjob, Outside sex, Protected sex, Some dirty talk, Talk of round two.

Word count: 4.2k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire characters nor do I claim to own them.

He crossed his arms standing across from you, his muscles flexing softly under the sunlight as he looked you up and down, he smirked a little as his eyes landed on your figure again. He took his time checking you out as you arrived to stay with your grandparents for the summer, he had a pronounced southern accent, and he was handsome, not to mention his southern charm. He moved closer to you as he slowly spoke again. “ain’t seen you here before, sugar.”

You felt his gaze running over your body like a caress, sending a shiver down your spine. His southern accent was both charming and captivating, and his muscular frame seemed to radiate masculinity. You tried to keep your cool as you looked up at him, but you couldn’t help the way your heart raced in your chest. “Yeah, I’m just here for the summer, visiting my grandparents,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “And how about you?” "Visiting family, huh?" Zack asked, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Well, ain't that somethin'. It's mighty fine to have some fresh blood 'round these parts." He stepped even closer, invading your personal space just a bit. The heat of his body was palpable, and you could smell the musky scent of his cologne mixed with the earthy aroma of horses and leather. "I'm Benji," he said, extending a large, calloused hand towards you. "Benjicot Blackwood. Pleased to make your acquaintance, miss…" He trailed off, waiting for you to supply your name. His eyes sparkled with mischief and something else - a primal intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

Your heart skipped a beat as he approached, invading your personal space with his imposing presence. The scent of his cologne and the smell of the outdoors on his skin was overpoweringly masculine, and it made you feel both excited and slightly intimidated. You took his hand in yours, shivering at the texture of his calloused skin against your own smooth fingers. "It's nice to meet you, Benji," you said, your voice coming out a little breathless as if actually looking forward to the summer for the first time since you were a kid. "I'm Y/N." The corners of his mouth twitched into a grin as he shook your hand firmly, holding onto it longer than necessary. "Pleasure's all mine, Darlin," he drawled, "I hope you're planning on stickin' around for a while. This ol' town sure could use someone as pretty as you to liven things up." He winked at you playfully, the sparkle in his eye undeniable. Benji said, grinning widely as he let go of your hand. "I reckon we'll be seein' more of each other around these parts." He winked at you playfully before turning to leave, leaving you alone once again. As he walked away, he threw one last comment over his shoulder at you. "Don't forget now, Y/N, these parts aren't best known for its nightlife, so best be careful where you venture off to this summer."

You grew flustered at his compliment, and you couldn't help but feel a little flustered as he held onto your hand for longer than necessary. You tried to keep your composure as he smiled at you, but your heart was racing inside. What was it about this man that made you feel so off balance? You watched him walk away, your eyes lingering on his muscular form, before he turned to throw one last comment over his shoulder. You didn't know why, but his words only intrigued you.

Every day, that encounter with Benji played in the back of your mind. You couldn't shake the memory of his smile, his scent, his intense gaze. And now, as you walked through town, you found yourself looking for him, unconsciously hoping to run into him again. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw him walking towards you on the sidewalk. He was wearing a tight shirt that hugged his muscular torso and a pair of jeans that hugged his hips in the best way possible. As soon as he spotted you, Benji's grin widened even further. He tipped his hat in greeting and sauntered over to you, his boots clicking against the pavement. "Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," he teased lightly, his voice deep and warm. "Thought maybe I'd see ya wanderin' 'round town today." He leaned casually against the wall beside you, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "What brings you out and about? Plannin' on causin' trouble already?"

You tried to keep the grin off your face but failed miserably. You couldn't help it; there was something about this man that made you smile. "Just enjoying the summer breeze," you said, trying to sound nonchalant. "And no, I don't plan on causing trouble. At least, not too much trouble." You glanced over at him, taking in the way his shirt hugged his muscular body. It was hard to ignore how attractive he was. "Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that," Benji drawled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He pushed himself off the wall and stood towering over you, making you acutely aware of your own smaller stature. "Trouble has a way of findin' people who don't expect it." He tilted his head slightly, studying your face with interest. "So, tell me, Darlin, what do you enjoy doin' when you're not causin' trouble?" You swallowed hard as he stepped closer to you, his tall frame towering over you and making you feel small. You tried to keep your cool, but your heart was beating faster than normal. "Well," you began, trying to sound as casual as possible, "I like to read, hike, that sort of thing." You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "And you? When you're not busy ranching or chasing trouble, that is."

"Ranchin', ridin' bulls, fixin' things," Benji listed off, shrugging his shoulders. "The usual stuff. Nothin' too excitin'." He paused for a moment, his gaze drifting over your face. "But I gotta say, spendin' time with pretty ladies like yourself is always a nice change of pace." He flashed you another wink before pushing himself off the wall completely and straightening up to his full height. "Anyway, I best get goin'. Got some chores waitin' for me back home. But I hope to see you 'round these parts again real soon, Y/N." With that, he touched the brim of his hat in farewell and strode off down the street, leaving you watching after him with a fluttering stomach and a racing pulse. You watched as he walked off, his tall, muscular frame striding away with ease. Your heart was racing in your chest, and you found yourself staring after him long after he had disappeared from sight. You tried to shake off the feeling, reminding yourself that he was just a charming cowboy who probably said those kinds of things to a lot of girls. But still, you couldn't deny the effect he had on you. You knew you'd be seeing more of him soon, and that thought both thrilled and unnerved you.

As the days went by, you found yourself thinking about Benji more and more. You kept your guard up, trying to convince yourself that it was just a simple crush, nothing serious. But with each passing day, you found yourself growing more and more infatuated with him. You tried to push him out of your mind, but he was like a stubborn weed, refusing to be uprooted from your thoughts. The more you tried to avoid him, the more you found yourself in places where you might run into him. It was as if your own subconscious was betraying you. As the days passed, Benji couldn't help but notice the way you would glance his way whenever you happened to cross paths. There was something different about you, something more than just a simple crush. He wondered if you felt the same pull towards him as he did towards you. One afternoon, while he was working in the barn, he caught sight of you strolling past, your hair blowing gently in the wind. He watched you for a moment, admiring the sway of your hips and the curve of your waist. Then, without thinking, he called out to you.

You were walking past the barn, lost in your own thoughts when the sound of your name being called broke you out of your reverie. You looked up to see Benji standing outside the barn, his lean, muscular form illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the doors. Your heart skipped a beat. You quickly composed yourself and walked over to where he was standing. "Hey," you said breathlessly. Benji grinned as you approached, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Afternoon, Darlin'," he drawled, tipping his hat to you. "Been thinkin' about you lately." He leaned against the barn doorframe, his biceps flexing beneath the sleeves of his shirt. "Wonderin' if you might wanna take a ride with me sometime. Out to the river, maybe. It's a mighty fine spot for picnics and such." He winked at you suggestively, his meaning clear. "Whaddya say? Wanna spend some time with me this weekend?" Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you tried to maintain your composure. Spending time alone with Benji, out in the wilderness, just the two of you? The idea was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. But you couldn't deny that you were attracted to him, and the thought of spending a day in his company was very tempting. "Umm, yeah, sure," you said, trying to sound casual. "I mean, that sounds nice."

Benji's grin widened at your acceptance, and he clapped you on the shoulder, his touch firm and reassuring. "That's the spirit, Darlin'," he said, his voice low and encouraging. "Saturday mornin', meet me at the stable by nine. We'll saddle up and head on out." He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before stepping back, his eyes never leaving yours. "Looking forward to it," he added, before turning and disappearing back into the barn, leaving you standing there, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness wash over you. You stood there for a moment, the warmth of his hand still lingering on your shoulder, as you watched him disappear into the barn. Your heart was racing in your chest as you replayed his words in your head. A day alone with him, out by the river… It sounded both exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. You smiled to yourself, your mind already imagining what the day might hold. You'd have to prepare, and make sure you had everything ready for the ride. And most importantly, try to calm down your nerves before the big day.

The next few days passed quickly, filled with preparations and anticipation. You packed a small picnic basket with sandwiches, fruit, and a couple of bottles of water, and made sure you had everything you needed for a day out in the sun. The night before the ride, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your mind racing with thoughts of what the next day might bring. You tried to calm yourself, to remind yourself that it was just a casual outing with a handsome cowboy, nothing more. But despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake the anxious flutter in your stomach. Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, the sun shining down on the ranch with its usual vigor. Benji was already waiting for you at the stables when you arrived, his horse saddled and ready to go. He greeted you with a wide smile and a tip of his hat, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Mornin', Darlin'," he drawled, his voice warm and inviting. "Ready for our little adventure?" He held out a hand to help you mount your horse, his fingers brushing against yours and sending a shiver down your spine. Once you were settled in the saddle, he swung himself up onto his own horse with practiced ease, and together, you set off across the open plains, the wind whipping through your hair and the sun warming your skin.

You felt a thrill of excitement and nerves as Benji helped you mount your horse, the brush of his fingers against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. The ride through the open plains was a thrill, the wind whipping through your hair and the sun warming your skin. You chanced a glance at Benji as you rode, taking in his lean, muscular frame, the way his hips moved with the rhythm of the horse's gait. You tried to ignore the fluttering in your stomach and focus on the beauty of the landscape, but it was hard not to feel the pull of his presence beside you. As you rode, Benji pointed out various landmarks and shared stories about the land and its history. His deep, resonant voice washed over you, and you found yourself hanging on his every word. The miles seemed to melt away under the horses' hooves, and before long, you reached the riverbank. Benji dismounted first, then turned to help you down from your horse. He led you to a shaded spot near the water's edge, where a large oak tree provided welcome relief from the sun. "Here we are," he said, spreading out the blanket he'd brought along. "Ain't she a beaut?" The river sparkled in the sunlight, its waters crystal clear and inviting. Benji gestured for you to sit down, and you graciously accepted, settling in for a relaxing afternoon by the river.

You felt a sense of peace wash over you as you took in the beauty of the river, its waters sparkling in the sunlight. You sat down on the blanket, your skin prickling with anticipation at the thought of spending the afternoon alone with Benji. He settled down beside you, his body close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. The two of you ate your picnic lunch, chatting and laughing, sharing stories and jokes. The hours seemed to fly by in a blur, and before you knew it, the sun was beginning to sink low in the sky. Benji became increasingly attentive, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. His presence was comforting, and you found yourself drawn to him even more. As the afternoon wore on, the heat of the day began to wane, replaced by a cool breeze that carried the scent of wildflowers and grass. Benji stretched out beside you on the blanket, propping himself up on an elbow to watch you. "You're doin' real good, Darlin'," he said, his voice low and appreciative. "Real good." He reached out, tracing a finger lightly down the side of your arm, sending another jolt of electricity through your system. You swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how close you were sitting to him, how easily he could reach out and touch you.

You felt your breath catch in your chest as his finger traced down your arm, sending a shock of electricity crackling through your body. His words washed over you, leaving you feeling both vulnerable and exposed. You tried to keep your cool, but it was hard not to notice the way he was looking at you, his gaze intense and full of desire. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling out of control. The tension between you was palpable, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore. Benji watched you closely, his eyes reflecting a smoldering intensity. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "You know, I've been wantin' to get my hands on you since the moment I laid eyes on ya." His voice was low and husky, sending a ripple of desire coursing through your veins. He placed a hand on your thigh, his grip firm yet gentle, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just above your knee. "How 'bout we make the most of this beautiful day?"

Your heart fluttered in your chest as he leaned in close, his voice sending shivers down your spine. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the strength of his hand on your thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. Your mind was racing, torn between the thrill of his touch and the knowledge of what might happen if you let yourself go. You took a shaky breath, trying to find your voice. "What did you have in mind?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Benji's lips curved into a wicked smile, his eyes darkening with lustful intent. "Well, for starters," he murmured, his voice dropping even lower, "how 'bout we lose these clothes?" He tugged gently at the hem of your shirt, his fingers deftly working their way up to your shoulders. "Seems like a shame to waste such a lovely day all covered up." His touch was light, teasing, promising more than just a simple undressing. The sensation of his fingers on your skin was intoxicating, making you forget everything else except the desire burning within you. You nodded slowly, unable to resist the urge to give in to his touch. "Okay," you breathed out, your voice laced with longing. You lifted your arms, allowing him to peel your shirt off, exposing your bare torso to the warm afternoon air. The sight of his hands on you, the look in his eyes, it was all too much, and you found yourself leaning in closer, craving the contact.

Benji's hands moved with purpose, peeling off your shirt and tossing it aside. His eyes roamed over your exposed flesh, drinking in the sight of the curves of your body. He let out a low growl of approval, his hands moving to the waistband of your pants, unfastening them with a swift motion. "You're gorgeous," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. He pushed your pants down, along with your underwear, revealing the rest of your body to his hungry gaze. You felt a rush of heat flood through you as he stripped you bare, his eyes raking over your naked form with undisguised hunger. The cool air kissed your skin, making you shiver with anticipation. You reached out tentatively, running your hands over the broad expanse of his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. "Your turn," you murmured, tugging at the hem of his shirt. You wanted to see him, to feel his skin against yours, to lose yourself in the heat of his body.

Benji stood up, shedding his shirt with a fluid motion, revealing his muscular torso to your eager gaze. He looked down at you, his expression filled with raw desire. "Like what you see?" he teased, his voice rough with arousal. He kicked off his boots and stepped out of his pants, standing before you completely nude. His member stood erect, throbbing with need, a clear indication of his desire for you. The sight of him, so powerful and virile, sent a wave of desire crashing over you. You reached out, tracing a finger down the length of his cock, feeling it twitch under your touch. "I can't deny it," you admitted your voice a mix of awe and lust. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his chest, tasting the salt of his skin. Your tongue darted out, flicking over a hardened nipple, savoring the sharp intake of his breath. Benji groaned softly, his hands finding their way to your head, threading through your hair. "That feels damn good," he breathed out, his voice strained with pleasure. He guided your head, urging you to take more of him into your mouth, to taste the essence of his manhood. His hips bucked slightly, pushing his cock deeper into your warm, wet mouth.

The sound of his pleasure fueled your own, driving you to take him deeper, to explore every inch of him with your mouth. You sucked gently, swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, savoring the salty tang of his pre-cum. Your hands wandered down his body, gripping his ass firmly, pulling him closer to your eager mouth. Benji's grip on your hair tightened as he lost himself in the sensations of your skilled mouth. "Fuck, yeah…just like that," he ground out, his hips rolling in rhythm with your movements. He could feel the heat building, his climax approaching rapidly. With a guttural moan, he pulled back, his cock glistening with your saliva. "Gonna flip you over now," he rasped, his eyes blazing with lust. "Want to be inside you when I come." The thought of him taking you from behind, filling you completely, sent a surge of excitement through your body. You nodded eagerly, turning onto your stomach, and presenting yourself to him. You glanced back over your shoulder, watching as he positioned himself behind you, his cock brushing against your slick entrance.

Benji's eyes met yours, a flash of false concern crossing his face before a sly grin spread across his lips. "Don't worry, darlin'," he purred, reaching over to grab a condom from his discarded jeans. He tore open the packet with his teeth and rolled the latex over his throbbing erection. "Now, where were we?" He gripped your hips, guiding his cock to your entrance, teasing you with the tip before finally thrusting deep inside you in one smooth motion. The sensation of being filled so completely made you gasp, your body arching back against him. You could feel every ridge and vein of his cock stretching you, claiming you as his own. You clenched around him instinctively, your inner walls clamping down on him, desperate for more. "Oh god…" you moaned, the pleasure almost too intense to bear. Benji began to move, setting a steady pace, each thrust driving deeper into your welcoming warmth. His hands explored your body, squeezing your ass cheeks, digging into your flesh as he fucked you relentlessly. "Damn, you're tight," he grunted, his strokes becoming more forceful, more urgent. He leaned over you, his chest pressed against your back, his breath hot against your neck.

You could feel his heartbeat pounding against your back, syncopated with the rhythm of his thrusts. The sensation of his hard body against yours, the way he filled you so perfectly, was overwhelming. You pushed back against him, meeting his strokes, increasing the intensity of the encounter. "Harder," you begged, your voice a needy whimper. "Please, fuck me harder." A feral growl escaped Benji's throat at your plea, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. He pounded into you mercilessly, the sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. One hand slid up your body, cupping your breast, kneading the soft flesh roughly. "You want it harder, baby? Want me to fuck this sweet little cunt until you scream my name?" His words were filthy, his tone commanding, demanding. He pinched your nipple, twisting the sensitive bud, sending jolts of pain-pleasure straight to your core. The combination of pain and pleasure was too much, pushing you closer to the edge. You cried out, your voice ringing with both agony and ecstasy. "Yes! Fuck yes!" You rocked back against him, desperate for more, for everything he had to offer. Your orgasm built rapidly, coiling tightly within you, ready to explode at any moment.

Benji could feel your body tensing, and hear the desperation in your cries. He knew you were close, teetering on the brink of release. He redoubled his efforts, slamming into you with abandon, chasing his own impending climax. "Come for me, baby," he urged, his voice strained with exertion. "Let go, I've got you." His thumb found your clit, rubbing the swollen nub in tight circles, pushing you over the precipice. "That's it, fucking come on my cock." His words were punctuated by a particularly deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside you. The sensation of your walls clamping down on him, milking his cock, was enough to send him careening over the edge. He came with a roar, his hips jerking erratically as he spilled himself inside you. The sensation of his cum filling you, marking you as his, was all it took to push you into oblivion. You screamed his name, your entire body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You could barely stand, your legs trembling uncontrollably, but he held you up, keeping you anchored to reality even as you spiraled into bliss.

Benji collapsed atop you, his heavy breathing mingling with your own ragged gasps. He remained buried inside you, his cock throbbing with aftershocks of pleasure. Slowly, he withdrew, his spent member sliding free with a slick pop. He turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours, seeking confirmation of what had just happened between them. "Was that okay?" he asked, his voice husky with satisfaction. You smiled weakly, still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. "It was incredible," you murmured, your voice a whisper. You reached up, running your fingers through his sweat-drenched hair, pulling him down for a gentle kiss. The taste of him on your lips, the memory of his touch, was enough to make your heart flutter. Benji kissed you back tenderly, his lips moving against yours with a rare gentleness. He pulled away slowly, his gaze lingering on your flushed features. "I'd say we're even now," he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He stood, offering you a hand to help you up. "But I'm thinking we might need another round to really settle things."

[justhotfantasies]

My friend Clara and my husband don’t get on. I guess that’s why I haven’t seen her as much as I would have liked over the last twenty years and I’m pretty sure that’s why I got an invitation to her son’s wedding and he didn’t. Whatever the case I was booked into the Golden Lion hotel where the reception was taking place and I was decked out in what I thought was my classiest outfit: a red satin dress that clung a little more tightly to my middle-aged body than it had when I bought it,  and I’d put on party make up for the first time in ages.

It was getting late. I’d had a few drinks. I’d chatted to a few old acquaintances and had a few laughs and was thinking about going to bed when a voice said, “Hold still.” A good-looking young man of about twenty-one that I recognised as the best man was holding up his phone and pointing it at me. “For the record” he said as I smiled and he took my picture. A moment later he was standing close to me showing it to me. “I’ll be back in a few minutes for a dance, OK?” he said with youthful enthusiasm.

I’ll be honest, I felt a small thrill of excitement at the thought. But I’m forty-five and married so didn’t think much more of it until he reappeared holding out his hand and saying “Now. That dance.” A little flattered and very surprised I took his hand and he led me onto the dance floor. It was a slow number and I became aware as we danced that I was becoming aroused by this young man’s hands on my body and his breath in my ear; by the movement of his chest against my breasts and his groin against my stomach.

The next few minutes are a blur. One moment we were on that dance floor. The next we were in the lift heading for the third floor and our lips were pressed together, our tongues were lashing at each other and our hands were exploring each other’s bodies. The next moment we were in my room pulling at each other’s clothes and all thoughts of my husband had vanished from my head as this young man, young enough to be my son, and I tumbled onto the bed.

His thigh ground against my pussy as my tongue danced with his. His hand explored my full mature tits as mine clutched at his tight young arse. His cock grew hard against my soft middle-aged stomach and a part of me - a part perhaps that recalled the freedom I had at his age - yearned to feel it inside me; yearned for a simple, primal, uncomplicated, undomesticated fuck.

I rolled onto my back and spread my legs. Nestled between them I felt his slim hips against my thighs as his cock moved against my wet pussy and then I gasped as he entered me, stretching me inside and sending waves of pleasure out through my body. I clutched at his strong young shoulders as he thrust deep inside me and my hips rose to meet him. Wrapping my legs around him I urged him on as he began to fuck me with a youthful vigour and urgency I’d long forgotten.

As if in a haze, at a distance, I could hear myself moaning, panting, urging him on as with thrust after thrust shock after shock of sensual joy surged through me; building, surging, rising to a crescendo until, clutching at him, the sheets, the bed, anything I could get my hands on, I came. My whole body shook as I pulled him to me and, a few moments later, I felt him swell inside me and, with a few deep determined thrusts he flooded my mature married pussy. 

He rolled off and we lay panting for a while. Me more than him - I hadn’t had that much exercise for quite some time. Eventually he got dressed and went to his room and I had the best night’s sleep I’d had in some time

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 7

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, serial killer, mentions of cartels, grief, smut

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: The chapter where we find out why Ted is on Beau's punch list aka The One With Ted... 😂

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 7: Storm Coming

May 2021

“I sold the house,” you said, your voice ripping through the quiet of the car during another starry stake-out night.

“So you’re homeless now?” Beau joked and peeled his eyes away from the front window view and glanced at you from the driver’s seat, his hand resting on the steering wheel, the other one in his lap.

You chuckled. “Yup, but I got a hot plate now in my motel room and one of those Italian moka pots. So, you know, some would say I’m living the dream.”

Beau snorted in amusement before he pensively rubbed his mouth with two fingers. “You didn’t have to sell the house, you know?”

You heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I kinda did, though… I didn’t like staying in there anymore. It’s just… too many memories, I guess? ‘Sides, I’m always down here anyways. Actually considering moving here.”

Beau frowned at you, his nose scrunching. “What, to Mexico? Are you nuts? Over my dead body are you doin’ that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a say in it,” you retorted rather playfully and put a shocked palm on your chest in mock.

“Damn right, I do,” Beau scoffed his reply with a teasing grin. “Who do you think is lookin’ out for ya, huh?”

“Wait, you think you are? That’s what you believe?” You snorted a laugh, entering banter territory with him.

It was usually how you passed your time during most of these stake-outs – laughing, teasing, and the occasional talking about your problems. You’d never known Beau like this before. He was your husband’s best friend, but he had been more of an acquaintance to you. Now, after months of spending close to every day together, it felt like he was your best friend. Since Randy’s death, he’d been there for you, even if it was mostly out of guilt.

“Yeah, what d’you think?” Beau countered challengingly.

“Oh sweetie, you’re not looking after me. I’m looking after you,” you stated confidently. The smile that twitched on his lips seemed to actually agree with you. “Out of the two of us, you’re the way bigger wreck. Some would even think it’s your husband who died, not mine.”

“Are you calling me a girl?”

You coolly shrugged your shoulders. “Either I’m calling you a girl, or I’m calling you gay. I’ll let you pick.”

Laughingly, Beau scoffed and muttered, “You wish I was gay.”

However, you still heard his mumbled reply and responded, “Actually, I wish you were a girl and that I was gay.”

Beau stared at you and leaned back against the door for a better view of you, his brow raised and the corners of his lips drawn slightly upwards in amusement. “What are we even talking about?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted with a shake of your head.

The two of you then burst into loud laughter that filled the entire SUV. For a moment, all your sorrows and hardships seemed to be forgotten, carried away to the desert with the nightly breeze. Then, the familiar and comfortable quiet took over the car again.

“I’m moving out of the house, too,” Beau said, his eyes focusing on the barren landscape and desolate road ahead. “I’m giving it to Carla. I mean, she didn’t ask me to. God knows she can take care of herself… But I want Emily to keep living in the home she grew up in, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. That’s really nice,” you said quietly. Your soft smile then morphed to a grin. “So you’re homeless, too, huh?”

Beau laughed, throwing his head back into the seat. “Yeah, guess I am. Maybe we should live together?” he suggested half-jokingly.

“Like roommates? Ugh, God no!” You scoffed in abhorrence. “We’re way too old for that. You’re over forty, I’m barely in my thirties–”

“You do know I know exactly how old you really are, right?” Beau teased.

You decided to ignore that jab and continued, unbothered. “It would be seriously so sad. The Widow And The Divorcee – sounds like the worst sitcom on the planet. ‘Sides, it’d be super awkward if one of us starts dating again.”

“Fine, maybe you’re right,” Beau relented with a soft chuckle and then glanced at you sideways. His heart gained speed in his chest. “You ever think about it? Dating? Gettin’ out there again? Been nine months.”

You twitched your shoulders, choosing not to look at him. “I don’t know. Is nine months long enough after your husband died?”

Thoughtfully, Beau licked his lips and let out a small sigh. “I don’t think there’s a timeline, or a right and wrong. I just think it’s one of those things that when you’re ready, you’re ready.”
 “Well, consider me not ready then, I guess,” you replied honestly.

“Alright,” Beau accepted, bobbing his head. “But I still think you should try again at some point, you know? You shouldn’t be alone for the rest of your life. First of all, it’d be a total waste, ‘cause, I mean, look at you. And secondly, you’re barely in your thirties, after all,” he repeated your earlier joke with a soft grin.

You felt the heat creep to your cheeks in the moonlight. As you looked at him, you could see his smirk, making you laugh. “Noted,” you replied and were thankful for his pep talk. “I mean, there’ve been offers.”

Beau quirked one eyebrow, a hard lump forming in his throat as his chest tightened. “Offers? Like plural? Who?”

“Well, just some of the guys from our team. Cody, Jordan, Ted…” you named a few. “Also a few locals. Remember those guys we played pool with a few weeks ago? Two of ‘em asked for my number.”

“Huh. That is plural…” Beau pursed his lips and couldn’t keep his brow from wrinkling, his grip on the steering wheel stiffening. “Well, you know, when you’re not ready, you’re not ready. Shouldn’t force anything. No rush, darlin’.”

Smooth, Beau thought wryly with an internal sigh.

“Right, I know,” you agreed. “I do miss sex, though. Getting kinda bored of my vibrator.”

Beau choked on his spit. “Jesus…”

“What? Am I not allowed to talk about it? I thought we were friends. You’re supposed to care about my well-being and happiness,” you argued, frowning.

“I do care. Just… Can we please not talk about that?” he begged and exhaled a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his freckled nose.

“Fine. I miss having women around…” You shrugged and muttered, “Didn’t peg you for a prude.”

“Okay, let’s just get one thing straight – I’m not a prude,” he clarified in defense, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

“Alright, also noted,” you quipped, smirking to yourself. Sometimes you enjoyed making him a little uncomfortable. His blushed cheeks could be quite cute. “What about you? Have you still not talked to Carla? I’m sure you can win her back if you tried. You’re a lot better now.”

“Well, thank you for the, uh, vote of confidence, but it’s really over, I guess. We just talked about all the divorce proceedings last time. I actually think she started datin’ someone recently,” Beau told you.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really? Who?”

“I guess some rich tech guy. I don’t know…”

“And you’re good with that?” you questioned in disbelief.

Beau scoffed a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Ha, no… But what am I gonna do? Kinda shot myself in the leg with that one. I don’t blame her for moving on. It’s been over for months now.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry. I was kinda rooting for you two,” you admitted.

“Well, thanks, but we weren’t you and Randy,” Beau said. It made your brow knit.

“What d’you mean?”

“C’mon, you know what I mean,” Beau replied as if it were obvious, but you still shook your head. He sighed. “You and Randy would’ve never gotten divorced.”

“You don’t know that.” Honestly, you doubted it yourself, but you were too curious to find out what he meant by his statement.

“I do know that,” Beau insisted with certainty. “You guys had that once-in-a-lifetime kinda love. The kind that made other people jealous, you know? Your love made every other relationship pale in comparison. I always figured once the honeymoon phase was over, you’d settle and be less vomit-inducing, but that never happened. Me and Carla were never like that. Not even in the beginning,” he explained, a small, soft smile shaping his mouth. “You guys were special. True love. The stuff folk singers write cheesy songs about.”

“I guess we were,” you mused quietly, the memory of everything Randy was to you causing tears to well in your eyes.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Beau apologized as soon as he noticed the sadness on your face. He reached his hand over to your side and squeezed your thigh gently, just above the knee.

“No, it’s alright,” you brushed him off, swallowing your heartache down. “But hey, if Carla wasn’t your once-in-a-lifetime, maybe she’s still out there. You just haven’t found her yet. I mean, that’s kinda a nice outlook, right?”

Licking his lips, he bobbed his head, his gaze focused on his hand on the steering wheel. “I doubt it.”

“Why? Never say never,” you said encouragingly.

“Well, maybe I already met her, and it’s too late now,” he replied. It sounded more like an actual fact than a hypothetical theory. You found yourself wondering.

“What, did you have like an old college flame? The one that got away?” you teased lightheartedly, but he only grew more serious.

“Somethin’ like that,” he replied vaguely, rubbing his mouth with his fingers.

“Look her up on Facebook. Maybe she’s divorced, too. You could reconnect or something,” you suggested. He nodded but didn’t seem too convinced. You then shot him a hesitant glance from your periphery. “So, now that Carla’s moving on, are you gonna start dating now, too? Jump back into the game?”

“I guess so… Why?” A part of him was curious to hear your response, while another part reminded him that his desired answer was only wishful thinking – and completely insane on top of that.

“That fiery brunette lady at the bar last night seemed really interested in you. Maybe you should hook up with her if she’s there again tomorrow night?” you proposed in earnest.

Wide-eyed, Beau blinked at you in incredulity – like you had lost your goddamn mind. “I’m sorry, what?! Hook up? Who are you right now? Are you tryin’ to set me up?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged simply, not seeing what the big problem was. “Don’t look at me like I’m trying to convince you to get a tramp stamp above your ass with a dirty needle. I’m just trying to be a good wingman… woman. Randy would’ve tried to set you up, right?”

Beau sighed frustratedly. “Yeah, he would’ve,” he admitted in a grumble and then barked, slightly more furious, “But you ain’t him. And I don’t want you to be, so stop it, alright?”

“Geez, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help,” you mumbled defensively and raised your hands in surrender, unsuccessfully hiding your upset over his reaction. He felt guilty when he saw the small pout on your face.

Beau rubbed his forehead before dragging his palm over the rest of his face. “I know. I’m sorry, too,” he said and let out a deep breath through his nose. “I just-… I guess I’m just waiting, okay?”

“Waiting for what?”

Beau squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. For you to be ready, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t very well do that now, could he?

“For Christ’s sake, Y/N…” he breathed exhaustively. That was all he managed to say. With his palm on his mouth, he rested his elbow against the car door, gazing out the window.

“Why are you so upset?” you asked, your brow woven with confusion.

“Switch subjects,” he requested.

It was a phrase the two of you used whenever you didn’t want to talk about something anymore. When someone pushed too much, or the topic got too emotional and you needed a break. The only rule was to always respect the request, so you had no choice but to let it go after that.

“The Texans game sucked last night, huh?”

That elicited a snort from him, and he looked at you with a warm smile. “Yeah, goddamn awful.”

“How many times are you gonna watch those?”

Beau’s question broke your concentration. Your gaze snapped from your laptop screen to his concerned face. You’d been rewatching the victims’ videos for four days straight now, trying to find more clues. Maybe even something that directly led to Diane.

“I keep thinking maybe I’ve missed something,” you mumbled and stared back into the computer, your teeth gnawing on the pen between your lips. “It’s 48 hours each. We have twenty-four victims. I keep watching them sped-up to get through them all, but maybe I should slow ‘em down. I mean, I’ve watched them full-length, normal speed a couple of times before, but maybe I should watch ‘em even slower and really focus, you know? There’s gotta be something there…”

Bobbing his head worriedly, Beau pursed his lips and took a scan of your desk. He counted eight empty cups of coffee and five cans of energy drinks. There were bags under your red eyes and your hands were jittering. He knew you hadn’t slept a lot. He tried to hold you in his arms, but as soon as he dozed off, you snuck out and went back to work.

Beau shut the laptop. “You’re cut off.”

“Hey!”

“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.

“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.

“I need that woman in prison, Beau.”

“You startin’ to sound like Jenny…” Beau quipped under his breath.

“We’re running out of time. There’s only one day left before the next victim drops,” you stated and tried your best to keep your voice steady as it broke off towards the end.

“I know.” Beau clasped your shoulder and squeezed gently. “And we’ll get her. I promise you. But you’re no good to any of us if you’re exhausted and losing it right now.” You nodded and rose from your chair. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him, kissing the top of your head affectionately. “How about some dinner, huh?”

You grinned warmly. “What, like a second date?”

“Exactly like a second date,” Beau said and mirrored your grin. He was making up for lost time as best as he could, even if it meant taking you out every night for the rest of your life.

Your phone buzzed on the table, your brow quirking at the number. Eagerly, you picked up and wound yourself out of Beau’s embrace. “Special Agent Y/L/N… Uh-huh… Great, thank you.”

Beau pursed his lips. “We’re not going out, are we?”

“‘fraid not, Sheriff.” You shook your head and chuckled at his groan. “That was IT. They’re finally done and sending over the IP addresses.”

“Alright, guess I’m gettin’ take out,” Beau announced with a small sigh, knowing the two of you were in for a long night – and not the one he had planned.

You smiled and pecked his lips. “Thank you.”

August 2020

Beau’s heart thudded frantically in his chest as his knuckles tapped your front door in the early evening. The sky was a color spectacle full of azures, indigos, and apricots as the summer sun slowly set. His boots only stood on that same spot not even twenty-four hours ago. It still felt like a surreal nightmare he couldn’t escape, his hope to wake up soon a ceaseless prayer.

He’d stayed with you all night, held you as you cried yourself to sleep. Beau awoke on your couch with your head resting on his thigh and a strange feeling in his gut. He couldn’t help but think you were beautiful, even in a state of utter turmoil, shoving said thought swiftly down into the depths of his darkening soul.

But he’d spent all day thinking of you, plagued by guilt and torn by misplaced feelings. He’d sat through hours of interviews, going over and over the events of last night till his mind spun like a hamster wheel. He was forced to fill out forms, sign documents, and recount each unforgettable step. He’d listened to lectures, sermons, and admonitions. His captain gave him a tongue-lashing that sounded like mere white noise before he was sent home with a suspension – investigation pending.

Only he didn’t go home; he came here.

At home, his wife and daughter were waiting – for a husband, a father, an explanation. None of which he could provide. Beau wanted to wallow in his grief, his guilt, his loss in peace. He lacked the strength to be strong, play pretend, and act above it all. He wanted to be punished, sent to perdition, and held accountable for his lapse of judgment. A suspension wasn’t good enough. It barely patched the abysmal gaps in his heart.

The only suitable punishment was you. Witnessing your suffering was his personally crafted hell. You were the broken remnants of his destruction, the shattered pieces of his idiocy, the explosive fallout of his arrogance.

And you hadn’t answered a single call or text of his. His torturous worry was part of his penalty.

Consecutive rings of the doorbell and incessant knocks remained unanswered. For a moment, Beau rested his forehead on the door. He felt helpless and clueless all the same. You had friends and family to take care of you, probably better suited and closer to you than him, but somehow he felt burdened with the responsibility.

He took the spare key out of the left-side planter and barged inside. The ground floor was deserted. Last night’s uneaten dinner still sat untouched on the table. It felt like a whiplash against his bare back.

Bolting upstairs, he found the door to the main bedroom ajar. He pried it open slowly, the sight of you delivering his second lashing. This time, he felt the sting burning through to his heart.

He found you curled up in bed, on your husband’s side, in your husband’s t-shirt, with your wedding photo album clutched tightly in your arms. His breath halted for a moment; his heart did, too.

Did he do this? Was this all his fault?

“Y/N?” His deep voice was quiet and careful as he spoke. Slowly, he walked over to your side and knelt down in front of you. “Darlin’, hey… You need to get up. Eat somethin’.”

Beau was sure you hadn’t moved all day. He didn’t ask you if you were alright or how you were doing. The question seemed insulting. The answer was obvious. Your phone was lighting up on the nightstand with a million unanswered calls and messages, his own among them. Your beautiful eyes were vacant, red, and empty. You didn’t cry, however, not anymore. You were dehydrated and all out of tears at this point. You never looked at him, not even a glance.

“I want him back,” you whispered, your voice coarse from screaming, crying, cursing.

Beau nodded, licking his lips. Caringly, he caressed your head, brushing a few strands of messy hair out of your face. “I know. I hope you know I’d trade places with him in a heartbeat if I could.”

For the first time your eyes found his. Your gaze was scathing and piercing. “Tell me what happened.”

Beau let out a harrowing sigh. He had rehashed the story all day long. He wasn’t sure if he could do it again, but maybe this version was the most important one. Who deserved the truth more than you?

“Y/N, I don’t think this is such a good idea, darlin’,” Beau tried to reason, mostly for himself. He wanted to hold on a little longer, the idea of you hating him tearing him apart. He wanted to spare himself the additional guilt, the anger, the hurt.

“Tell me or leave.”

Beau closed his eyes and nodded hesitantly. “Okay, alright.” He took a deep breath and settled down on the floor, leaning his back against the wooden bedside table. “We were closing in on that biker gang. Few murders, arms trafficking, drug deals… You know the drill. I’m sure Ra-… he filled you in.”

Not that long ago, Randy had asked you for advise on the case. You gave him your contacts in the DEA and a number to a CI.

“Your DEA guy warned us. Said the gang was working closely with the cartel down in Juárez. But I had my own intel that only a few members were meeting at the Hatcher warehouse in MacGregor. It was supposed to be a small deal. But I figured it could lead to bigger things if we shook ‘em down, you know? But fuckin’ Harper told us no like usual. Refused to give us back-up. Said to pass the case on to the DEA. But Randy and I worked our asses off the last few months to get even this far. We were so close. I didn’t wanna let go… So, I suggested we go in anyways. It was supposed to be only three guys from the gang. I knew if we were smart about it, we could easily take ‘em down, you know?”

You rolled onto your back and propped yourself up on the bed. Shaking your head, you chuckled humorlessly and grabbed the half-empty whiskey bottle from the nightstand. “‘Course you did. It’s not the first time you broke a rule or shit on authority.”

“Yeah, and I was right every single time,” Beau bit. His anger wasn’t geared at you but at himself. He knew he was in the wrong. He flew too close to the sun and got burned. But he still felt the need to defend himself, even if it was unjustified.

His gaze drifted to the dresser and the patch of wall above it, decorated with photographic evidence of yours and his partner’s life together. The wedding, dates, vacations, holidays – it was all there. Beau had watched it all, start to finish. He wished he could rewind the tape and cut off the ending, all so you could have the love of your life back. He didn’t know yet your cassette had a B-side. One that featured him.

“You got fucking lucky, is all,” you scoffed.

“Randy backed me up on it!”

“Of course he did! You’re his fucking partner! He would’ve followed you anywhere if you asked him to,” you snapped, shaking your head. You gulped down some whiskey then and locked your jaw before you met his eyes again with a glare. “And? What happened then, Beau? Was it only three guys?”

“No.” The word was almost inaudible. He shook his head with a harsh swallow. “They were meetin’ with a few cartel members there. My intel never said anything about that. When we were inside and saw what was really going on, it was already too late to get out. They made us, bullets started flyin’… They got a hold of Randy and… shot him.” A tear escaped down his cheek, his throat closing as he tried to choke out the last bit of the story. “I had to leave him there. I barely got out myself. I’m sorry, Y/N. I know this is on me.”

Your lips twitched with a bitter smile. You didn’t look at him, just rubbed your tired eyes. “Damn right it is. Get out.”

“Y/N, please–”

The storm in your eyes made him stop as you met his gaze, his useless apologies becoming stuck in his throat. “I said, get out. I ain’t asking a third time. You’re the reason my husband is dead. You’re the reason I don’t even have a body to bury. So, get the fuck out.” Like a snakebite, your words were targeted, sharp, and venomous.

You finally got out of bed and prodded towards the en-suite bathroom. The truth had been what you needed to switch the fighter inside of you back on. You knew what you wanted to do then and were determined to get it.

“Y/N–”

“Do you know what cartels do to bodies, Beau? To rivals? To law enforcement? ‘Cause I just came back from a job where we found forty-eight decapitated bodies, left to rot inside the walls of a house. Still haven’t found the heads yet. Probably never will,” you told him and stared him dead into his dark green eyes. “Ever seen that before, desperado?”

Beau bit his lips, averting his gaze. “No.”

“Yeah, didn’t think so.” You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “Now, leave. Please. Get the fuck outta my house. I don’t wanna see you anymore,” you spat and slammed the bathroom door shut behind you.

Beau then grabbed the whiskey bottle you’d left and walked out of your home. It was the first of many nights he started to drink himself to sleep, but at least it kept the nightmares temporarily at bay.

“Theodore.” Beau forced a bright smile onto his freckle-dusted face, although the stiff features could barely fool anyone. At least, they wouldn’t have fooled you.

“Beau, good to see you again.” Ted smiled and did a more convincing job of it as he waltzed into Lewis and Clark County’s Sheriff’s Department. It almost seemed like he meant it. “I was surprised when Y/N told me you got a gig as a sheriff here.”

Translation: I was surprised because you were such a fuck-up back in Texas.

Beau feigned a chuckle. “Yeah, I bet you were.”

“Hopefully, you’re givin’ the DAs here less headaches,” Ted jabbed under the disguise of friendly banter. He then turned to Jenny with that same shit-eating grin. “Your sheriff is a little troublemaker.”

Sweet Lord, Beau wanted to whack the bastard.

The blonde deputy coolly brushed the accusation off. She shrugged and playfully nudged Beau’s arm, sending the Texan attorney a smile. “I prefer him that way.”

“Hey, there she is!” Beau smiled with frazzled relief when you finally hurried into the station. A little while longer, and he definitely would’ve thrown a punch.

“Hey, Ted. Thanks for coming. How was your flight?” You greeted him with a warm smile and a quick hug.

“Good, good. Never been to Montana before,” Ted said and then let his eyes wander up and down your body. “Look at you. You look great!”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You subtly cleared your throat. You could physically feel Beau stiffen next to you. In your periphery, you could spy a tightly clenched jaw and a few strained muscles in his neck.

“Mind if Y/N and I borrow your office, Sheriff Arlen?” Ted asked and emphasized his title. “Considering the nature of this case, I’d like to keep it as private as possible. Don’t want anything to reach Ms. Newton’s ears.”

Your hunch had been right. Several IP addresses pointed to Diane, some to public Wi-Fi’s. You and the team still needed to connect her to the other states and find out where she’d been staying there, but you could definitely trace some posts in recent weeks to her home in Montana. It was enough for an arrest warrant, but you still needed more evidence.

Additionally, it had all come together a little too easily. It seemed like a giant trap you were walking into. Diane wanted to be caught. But why?

“Why don’t I just join you? I’m sure Y/N here doesn’t mind,” Beau suggested with a tight smile and then snaked his arm around your middle, pulling you closer. “Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Internally, you sighed a little at his obvious territorial pissing, but you were willing to throw him a bone. You stretched up and claimed his plump lips in a fervent kiss that Beau only all too happily reciprocated.

“Not at all, Sheriff. You know I always appreciate your input,” you replied with a dirty smirk at the double entendre.

As Beau looked down at you, he mouthed ‘God, I love you.’ You grinned in response.

“Happy to give it to you,” he said with another sweet peck of your lips. A triumphant and slightly cocky grin graced his lips as he looked back at Ted.

“Oh, so you two are back together?” Ted realized, his brow rising to his hairline. He’d never seen you two together but certainly had heard the whispers down in Mexico from your old task force. He’d been the DA for those cases as well. You’d never explicitly told him about you and Beau, though, even when he had tried to pry a little on those dates you went on.

“Well, I’m a hard one to quit,” Beau quipped almost proudly, like a peacock showing off his fan of feathers.

“As are cigarettes and many other vices,” Ted shot back with the same stupidly proud grin.

Translation: You’re an ass. And a failure. She deserves so much better. I’m ‘better.’ But maybe that didn't need a translation.

Beau should’ve known it was hard to out-argue a lawyer and ground his jaw. After all, he’d been married to one for many years.

You, on the other hand, shared a wide-eyed and baffled look with Jenny that bordered on amusement. You had almost gasped in shock. You hadn’t expected such a fiery reply, sure the men would stick to their Southern manners. But, oh well, everyone’s packing in fucking Texas…

“Why don’t you two go ahead? I’ll join you in a minute,” you ordered more than you earnestly proposed and shooed the two men down the hallway towards Beau’s office.

“Sure it’s such a good idea to lock those two in a room alone?” Jenny teased, her eyes lingering a little too long on Ted’s perfectly formed ass as he sauntered down the hall.

You couldn’t blame her. You had checked out Beau’s in the same breath.

“It’s only for a short time. They’re not gonna kill each other,” you laughed it off. Jenny arched a doubtful eyebrow at you. “That quickly,” you added a correction. “So, what did I miss here?” you asked and nodded towards the two men, closing the door to Beau’s office behind them. All you heard last was them talking about the recent Texans game.

Ugh, of course, they’d end up by football…

“Dick measuring contest,” Jenny supplied wryly.

“Ah, figured…”

“Well, better them than to lock Agent Y/L/N and the sheriff into the same room,” Poppernak joked with a soft chuckle as he appeared next to you and Jenny, chiming into the conversation.

You gaped at him in mock-shock. “Mo! I can’t believe you just said that,” you chided playfully.

His cheeks turned crimson red. “I’m sorry, Special Agent Y/L/N,” he apologized in a fluster.

“Mo, I told you to call me by my first name,” you reminded him with a smile. “Or I’m gonna have to start giving you silly names like Beau does.”

“Oh, I love Sheriff Arlen’s nicknames,” he quickly defended with a nervous laugh.

“Do you?” Jenny tilted her head with a questioning eyebrow.

He shrugged. “They’re clever.”

August 2020

“Old Fashioned,” you ordered with a look at the bartender, feeling Beau’s confused eyes and crinkled brow wander up to you. “Couldn’t have picked a nicer bar, huh? This place is a dump. You know that, right?”

Beau clicked his tongue and took a sip from his Ranch Water. “What are you doing here? Thought you never wanted to see me again.”

You let out a small sigh but didn’t meet his gaze. “Carla called me. Your family is worried about you.”

“I didn’t tell her where I was. How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. Carla said you haven’t been home in three days. Figured you’d gone on a bender. This is the fifth cop bar I checked out. Finally got lucky,” you said and thanked the bartender as he placed his drink in front of you. You settled down on a barstool next to Beau.

“Quite the effort. Sure I’m worth it?”

Your tongue swept over your lips. “Beau, look at me.” His forest-green eyes found yours upon your soft plea. “I’m sorry I put all that shit on you. It wasn’t fair. It’s not your fault, okay? His death isn’t on you. I know you loved him like a brother.”

“I did.” Beau took another sip of his drink. “But it is my fault. I was reckless and arrogant. We both know it.”

“It was a set-up, alright? I talked to my DEA contact. Cody said your intel was wrong. They knew you and Randy were closing in on them. They wanted to get rid of you,” you explained.

Beau smacked his lips. “I still shoulda known better. I should’ve seen it was a trap.”

“Maybe,” you admitted. You couldn’t say you would’ve done the same thing, but you knew Beau would’ve never purposely put Randy in danger if he had even the faintest idea. “But it could’ve happened to anybody. This was bigger than you knew.”

“It wouldn’t have happened to you,” he stated quietly. You couldn’t argue with that. You were more by-the-book than he was. You would’ve never gone against a superior’s order. You would’ve respected it.

“Look, just go home. Talk to your wife. Get some help,” you said. “You missed your suspension hearing, but I spoke on your behalf. Told them it wasn’t your fault. The DEA backed me. Harper’s gonna reinstate you. Just come back as soon as you’re ready.”

Beau nodded slowly. Even if he didn’t say it, you could tell he was thankful for your efforts. “I can’t go home.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why? I’m sure Carla will understand. You need to talk to someone about this. Go to therapy – and not the alcoholic kind. Losing a partner is not something you get over quickly. You need people in your corner, including your wife.”

“You mean the wife that lets criminals out on the street?” Beau’s gaze was focused on the glass in his hands. The wrinkles on your brow deepened. “The guy that shot him… Carla’s his defense attorney. Was, at least. He was supposed to do time, but two months ago, she got him paroled.” With a dark chuckle, he emptied his glass.

“Beau…” You knew he had always struggled with Carla’s job, making you sometimes wonder about their dinner conversations at home. “It ain’t her fault more than it is yours. She’s just doing her job. You know that. You’ve been together for so long, you’d think you’re used to it by now.”

Beau scoffed a chuckle and gestured to the bartender for a refill. “I was a young cop back then. Wasn’t on the job as long. I didn’t know it would bother me so much. Still lived in that hopeful bubble, I guess.”

You smiled knowingly. “You mean the ‘I didn’t think I’d see as much shit and injustice as I do now’ bubble?”

He snickered softly. “Yep, that one. Just didn’t think it’d be this hard, you know?”

“I get it. I mean, me and Carla butt heads all the time over this stuff. But we do it in a competitive fun way and then get drunk,” you said with a light chuckle. “Guess it’s different when you’re married, though, huh?”

“Yeah, it is…” he sighed.

“Still, go home. Talk to her,” you encouraged but could see your words of wisdom fell on deaf ears. “By the way, the funeral’s on Saturday.”

He turned his gaze away from his glass and found your eyes. “You need any help with that?”

“Maybe you can give a eulogy. You knew him best. I think he would’ve really liked that,” you said with a warm smile. No matter your own feelings, you knew deep down Randy would’ve wanted you to forgive his partner.

“Yeah, I can do that. Anything you need, okay?” Beau clasped your hand that laid on the bar counter and squeezed reassuringly before dropping it again.

You smiled appreciatively and teased, “Maybe show up sober. Or at least close-to.”

Beau chuckled a little. “I promise.”

You stood up from your seat then and put some cash for your drink on the counter. “Alright, I’m heading home. You need me to call you a cab?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just gonna finish this drink, then I’ll head out, too,” he said.

“You sure? Don’t make me come back here,” you threatened playfully.

Beau laughed softly. “I won’t. Thanks for everything, Y/N. I mean it.”

You sent him a smile and gave his shoulder a squeeze on your way out. “You’re welcome. Get home safe, okay?”

However, Beau couldn’t keep any of his promises. He made it home after three more drinks and woke up on the front lawn of his house. Carla wasn’t happy when she found him in the morning as she brought Emily to school. But Beau couldn’t stop. Every time he closed his eyes, the tragic events flashed before him like a horror movie, witnessing Randy’s death in a never-ending loop. He kept seeing his partner get dragged away, heard the shot over and over again like a rain of bullets without a ceasefire.

The guilt was eating him alive. The guilt of getting his partner into this mess in the first place. Of leaving him behind. Of surviving and coming out alive when he didn’t deserve to.

So, Beau kept drinking to forget, even though he knew it was a futile endeavor. The memory would never fade, but at least it was blurred.

Your heavy breaths echoed through the small trailer. His mouth moved down the column of your throat, leaving a wet path of ravenous love bites in its wake.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned wantonly, his grip on your flesh punishing as he kept you pressed flush against him while he devoured you on the little dining table. Your ass sat on the wooden surface, your crossed ankles locked tightly behind his muscular back.

“God, you made me so happy today,” he growled against the shell of your ear, his rising length rubbing against your core through layers of denim.

“I can see that.” You giggled, your hands dangling in his hair. “There’s no need to hate him so much, you know?”

“Says you,” Beau quipped and unzipped your jeans, eagerly pulling them off you as his mouth sucked your clavicle purple and blue. “That slimy coyote always had it out for me.”

Beau removed your panties as well, tossing them behind his shoulder where they landed in the kitchen sink. “Whoops.” He grinned charmingly but was unstoppable, freeing his throbbing dick as he shoved his jeans and boxers barely over his ass. He didn’t bother to slip out of them all the way, too impatient to wait any longer to enter you.

“Still, I’m already yours. I’ve always been yours,” you said and braced yourself on his broad shoulders as one large hand on your back pulled you closer to the edge of the table. His other hand grabbed his cock, twisting his fist along the hard, long shaft a few times before he glided his cockhead through your slick folds.

“Not always.” With one harsh thrust, he pushed inside you, your tight walls fighting to make room for him and adjust to his stretch.

You gasped at the pleasurable burn that coursed through your body and ignited every sizzling nerve. He dropped his head to your shoulder, giving both of you some time to get used to each other. You could tell you were in for a wilder ride tonight. You always loved when he fucked you rough and hard. There was something raw and animalistic about the need in his hypnotizing green eyes.

Beau then claimed your lips with one fervent kiss, enough of a spark to cause a wildfire. He met your gaze, hands gingerly cupping your cheeks. “But I love that you’re mine now. And I’m sure as hell gonna make you mine tonight, darlin’.”

You crashed your lips against his, your kisses frenzied and untamed as his hips began to slam into you. His pounds into your pussy were relentless as you swallowed every inch of him. You gripped him tight, already feeling your first orgasm bloom. It accumulated like dark, violent storm clouds on the horizon, forecasting roaring thunder and heavy rainfall.

“Oh God! Fuck, baby!” You screamed as your climax tore through you like a hurricane, your cunt gushing on his cock and pulsing around him. Your nails dug into his shoulder blades and scratched down his back as you came undone.

Beau groaned into your ear, squeezing his eyes shut as he barely held on himself. But he didn’t let up and kept up his furious pace, not ready to stop yet. “Shit, keep doing that. You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” he grunted against your skin, your sensitive flesh barely withstanding his ruthless pumps. “Want you to come again, darlin’.”

With his declaration, his hand slipped between your sweat-clad bodies. You came close to losing your mind as he thumbed furiously at your clit, the stars already starting to twinkle in front of your eyes. You could feel yourself get shoved to the edge once more, staring down the steep cliffs of white-hot ecstasy.

Your mind was consumed by need, his grip on your hips bruising as you exploded. You cried out raucously, your whole body quaking in his hold upon your eruption, the aftershocks so powerful they could cause cracks in your bones.

Beau spilled his seed deep inside of you, his body stuttering in rhythm with yours as your earthquake took him down with you. Hazy gazes met each other with lazy smiles as ragged breaths mingled.

“Fuck, that was good. I think that one might make it into our Top Ten.” Beau chuckled gravelly and placed a gentle kiss on your temple.

“Hmm, not sure. We have a few greatest hits.” You giggled and bit down on your lower lip with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Can I tell you something?”

Beau cupped your cheeks, thumbs caressing the heated and rosy skin as he lifted your gaze. “Anything.”

“Just between us, you’re the best lover I ever had,” you confessed with a wide grin. The corners of his mouth rose to match yours.

“Well, between us, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. You’re it, darlin’. You know that, right? You’re the love of my life,” Beau revealed, making you smile brighter than you ever had before.

“I’m not sure about the sex, but this moment, right here, is probably gonna make it into the Top Ten,” you said softly as a few tears stung your eyes.

“Good.” Beau smiled and pecked your forehead.

The buzzing of a phone shifted your attention. You recognized it as yours, and Beau was quick to retrieve it from your jeans pocket in the pile of clothes on the floor.

“It’s Jenny,” you told him before picking up. “Hello… What?! Uh-huh, we’ll be right there.”

Beau’s brow furrowed as he watched your features flicker through an array of emotions. “Bad news?”

“Uhm, honestly, I don’t know,” you said and swallowed some of your confusion down, gathering your thoughts. “Jenny said Diane just walked into the station and gave herself up. She is ready to confess but only wants to talk to us.”

“Us? As in us two?” Beau’s eyes narrowed. You nodded. “Well, that doesn’t sound fishy at all,” he commented wryly.

“Yup, I don’t like it.”

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds – JUNE 26

A lot of revelations and foreboding in this one... 👀 Also, I just love having Beau say the word "coyotes" for some reason 😂

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[gretavanlace]

Poppins (part 8)

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: adult themes, illusions to sex, angst, alcohol consumption, etc

*We’re getting down to it, only two (possibly three) more chapters to go ❤️

It feels like the air has been punched clean out of your lungs, but just as quickly, logic takes over and shakes you straight.

Obviously, you’ve misunderstood…and you tell him as much.

“I guess I’m not following you, Josh.” You attempt a casual laugh and nudge his shoulder with your own, scrambling for normalcy. “But, I suppose it really isn’t any of my business, anyway.”

His stare remains locked on Lily, with that proud, faraway look that so often softens his expression when he watches her. “You’re following me just fine, sweetheart. You’re just a little off kilter because I sort of threw it at you. I’m sorry for that.”

Funny, you’ve never actually had an ‘I must be dreaming’ moment…but you’re certainly having one now. That has to be it, you’ve conjured this jumbled up mess inside your head.

You’re at home, still sleeping off the blunt shared with Jake. Right? No, you can feel the warm humidity of the day building in the air, there is the faint knock of a woodpecker lost somewhere in the trees, there is the sound of him breathing, waiting, existing, beside you.

This is no dream - but it’s every bit as confusing as one.

Afraid she might overhear, you pitch your voice less than a whisper, so quiet you almost don’t hear your own question, but Josh does.

“Yes, she’s Jake’s,” a gently possessive edge nips at his tone. “Biologically. It doesn’t matter, that little girl is mine, and I’m her’s. But yeah, that’s what I meant when I said I could never repay him. Look at her…”

A smile breaks across his face, warm, gorgeous, and absolutely beaming with adoration as he studies her pointing something out in the sand. Her buddy leans in closer to inspect her discovery, as they carry on what seems to be a very serious discussion.

“He gave me my favorite girl. My everything. I would’ve died for him before, now I’d do it with a smile just because he asked. How could I ever level the playing field?”

There’s that playing field making its appearance again, albeit for a very different reason this time around.

“I don’t understand.” And you don’t. You’ve never understood anything less in your life. You can’t get a read on how, or why, or if it really even matters. It’s like someone has taken all the facts you’ve ever known to be true and mixed them all up. Nothing makes sense. Nothing fits. The puzzle is jumbled and missing pieces.

“It’s a lot, I know.” He shrugs, already intimately acquainted with the situation that has ripped the rug out from beneath your unsteady feet. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you, but if I’m being honest…which I guess is exactly what we’re doing here…I didn’t want him to beat me to it. I wanted to be the one to tell you. I really don’t even know why, and it sounds stupid now that I’m saying it out loud.”

“He never said a word.” The moment you speak the words, you remember Jake’s, she looks like her dad.

Josh leans back against the weathered wood bench and crosses his ankle over his knee. You’d like to ask him how he’s so casually fucking with your head, but you know this really isn’t about you at all.

“Of course he never said a word. Our stoic mystery man, whom you can’t seem to quit. Just remember, my love, still waters run deep. There are a great many things that Jacob has never said a word about. He would have, though. Eventually. Something about you seems to just drag things to the surface for us. Sorceress.”

He’s only teasing. Likely trying to lighten the heaviness of the conversation, but you blush all the same. As only Josh can, he both grins at the pink in your cheeks, and pretends not to see it, to spare your pride.

The way they speak - so alike in sound, inflection, turns of phrase, poetically laced and lovely - only serves to confuse you further. At times, it's like being with the same man who just happens to have split personalities.

“A great many things Jacob has never said a word about,” You muse,” Bigger than this?” You’re not sure you want to hear the answer.

A laugh, easy and genuine, trips out of him, louder by far than anything that has been murmured thus far, “Fuck, I hope not!”

Lil’s head snaps up, attention hooked; though her friend is more interested in watching her reaction than what she is reacting to. “Daddy said a bad word!” The accusation in her tone makes him sigh, defeatedly.

“No, I didn’t!” Josh holds his hands up in innocence, clearly enamored by her tiny cross examination. “Daddy said truck. We were playing the rhyming game.”

“Like we play in the car on the way to Gramma’s?” She shouts over, with disappointment now coloring her end of the exchange…she delights in catching grown ups misbehaving.

“That’s the one.” He smiles with an exhale of relief, like a little boy who has just successfully evaded punishment. “Never, ever, tell anyone how coolly I just lied to that angelic face.” He adds through his teeth, smiling with a wave in her direction.

“That angelic face can be brutal.” You giggle at his nonsense. “Last week she caught me eating one of those vegetarian sushi rolls you hog for yourself, and milked me for extra goodies at snack time for days in exchange for silence.”

“Jokes on you,” he rolls his big brown eyes as if he can’t believe your behavior. “I count them, and I knew it all along.”

“Yeah, well, you just admitted to counting your sushi rolls, so who should be ashamed of themselves, here? ‘Cause it isn’t me.” You’re joking, but only a little.

After an absurdly easy stretch of silence, he turns serious and quiet again, “Look, I know that I dumped this on you, and I know you’ve probably got a million questions…you deserve answers to every single one of them. Come to mom’s with me, yeah? She’s making a big lunch. Sammy’s bringing the dog. It’ll be fun. We’ll eat, she’ll eventually insist on keeping Lil for the night and we’ll go home. I’ll make you dinner and we can talk.”

“Talk? Is that what the kids are callin’ it these days?” You grin, how is everything always so easy with him? This shouldn’t be so casual. It shouldn’t feel this normal to joke about sleeping with him while grappling with something so monumental.

Incidentally, why are you joking about sleeping with him? Because you want to put it out there, that you’re still thinking about it, that you still want it…that’s why.

How do they do this? Both of them. It hardly seems fair. Or normal, for that matter. And he has the nerve to talk of sorcery?

The wind is fluttering through the leaves, rustling them like a soothing psalm. It causes your thoughts to wander…which seems odd; how could you be thinking about anything but this nuclear bomb he has just detonated inside your head. But somehow, wander they do, your thoughts - and you find yourself eyeing the trees, trying to hone in on the one lucky enough to have earned Jake’s favor.

Like always, Josh seems to know what you’re thinking. “It’s across the park. Over closer to that little pond where Lil likes to feed the ducks.”

“What?” You adopt a puzzled expression, though you cannot for the life of you fathom why. Josh knows. Just like his brother, Josh always knows.

It is a frustrating, exhausting fact, but a fact all the same.

“Jake’s tree.” He clarifies, proving what you already understood to be true…that he can peer inside your head and heart as easily as he could were you made of windows. “It’s over by the pond. Would you like to see it?”

“No.” You brush your hands over your arms as if you’ve caught a chill, though the air borders on muggy.

“Okay,” He nods, completely at ease with this unusual situation you’ve found yourselves in. “Would you like to see him?”

Awkwardly, you watch those leaves as they wave and dance together, anything to save from meeting his eyes.

“Is okay to say yes, love…” he taps your knee, just an innocent ‘hello’, and so different from the last time he touched you. “I’d like to see him too. He’ll undoubtedly be at our mother’s lounging around like he owns the place. Come with us.”

“Do they know?” You venture tentatively, “Your parents?”

Your eyes are on him now as he shakes his head. Sometimes you forget how truly beautiful he really is and then you wonder how you ever could.

“Contrary to popular belief, Jake and I can keep a secret.”

“Not even your mother?” You find this hard to believe, as much as Jake taunts his twin for being a ‘mama’s boy’, he’s just as bad. They trust her with everything.

Josh nods at Lily, who is now flouncing her way over like a fairy who has misplaced her wand…all swishing ponytail and laughing eyes. “Not even her mother.”

The windows for questions has slammed shut, leaving all of yours to slam against the pane of glass like dazed birds.

~

“Rosie, get down!” Sam’s voice barks across the kitchen, startling you out of your thoughts. Rosie, unfazed and standing on her hind legs, continues to peruse the veggie plates and chip bowls Karen has set out on the counter, sniffing out delicious scents and temptations.

“Rosebud, I swear, if you don’t—“

“Samuel,” Karen scolds, snapping at him with the hand towel she’s been toting around. “Get off your ass and get her. Stop acting like an idiot in my kitchen.”

Sammy lopes over and grabs his faithful companion by the collar, lovingly tugging her away. “I don’t come here to be treated like I’m five, ma.” He complains, sweeping open the back door.

“Shut up, and go help your brothers.” She’s turned away from him and smiling, but judging by his returning smile, he has heard the adoration in her admonishing words.

At the table, bathed in the warmth of Karen’s sunny kitchen, you watch Jake and Josh confer near the enormous lilac bush Kelly has insisted be torn out.

“Too close to the septic system.” He’d informed the room when everyone protested ripping such a beauty from the earth, “The roots are gonna screw it all up and not a damn one of you are gonna want to come help clean up the aftermath.”

Of course, the boys have been tapped to help, as Kelly insists there’s no time like the present, and of course, Sammy has been shirking his duties ever since. True to form, rather than joining the twins, he opts for a chair to toss a tennis ball to Rosie from.

Your heart warms watching his honest and open face laugh gleefully as she chases down her bouncing prey. He is the sweetest gem, and you wish you knew him a little better.

But, as it so often does, your attention wanders back over to Josh, in his casual weekend wear, clean and crisp…and Jake, looking gorgeously rumpled and out of place in the domesticity of it all. You know he smells of ember and the Booker’s he is currently nursing out of a plastic tumbler to ensure Lil doesn’t ask questions.

You miss them both. They feel very far away as you watch on, smiling when they raise their arms to point something out to Kelly in perfect, unplanned, synchronicity.

Karen is suddenly beside you, staring out across the deck as well, chomping on a baby carrot. “It’s fun to watch them, isn’t it?”

She offers you a veggie and you take it, nodding in complete agreement around a bite.

“See how they mirror each other?” She marvels softly, wistful for her babies. “They’ve always done it. Even in the hospital, one would move, and there would go the other. Josh had terrible colic - briefly, thank god - and Jake would tense up even before Josh made a peep, like he could feel it coming. They’re each other's keepers.”

Be it motherly intuition, or perhaps just the nostalgia of having all of her boys home at once, she has chosen an ideal time to share. With the men all outside either tending to chores or shirking them, and Lil napping on the couch, you have her, and her memories, all to yourself.

“Tell me more about what they were like.”

If she senses something more behind the question, she doesn’t let on. “They were terrors. Little monsters, just awful. But, gentle angels at the same time. Always quick with a hug or a thoughtful comment. Even when they were just tiny things, they honed in on people and just sank their little teeth into heart after heart.”

“Some things never change then, I guess.” You shouldn’t have said it and long to take it back. They get their empathetic third eye from their mother, and you know she’ll clock the situation for what it is.

But again, she stays mum on the subject of why you seem just as wistful as she.

“They struggled so hard in school,” she finally confides, eyes on them as they begin wrapping ropes around the root of the bush that, evidently, must go. “It was painful. Mostly because they were just so intelligent, but it was all locked away when it came to brick and mortar schooling. They just froze right up behind those little desks.”

You knew this. Josh has explained their plight a hundred times over, wringing his hands with worry that Lily-bit might struggle to overcome the same mountains. Still, it’s so difficult to imagine them, easily two of the most intellectually enriched, well read and spoken human beings you have ever met, grappling with crippling learning disabilities.

“We worked with them endlessly, and hired tutors, and they tried so damn hard.” Her voice wavers a touch, as if she’s swallowing down tears. “When the pieces started falling in place for them, Josh took to reading faster than Jakey. He had these phonics books he liked, and they would hole up in their room for hours while Josh helped him sound the words out. I used to listen at the door. It was like magic…Josh would utilize all the inner workings of that shared mind they can access, and somehow, he’d make it make sense for his brother. He’d remind him to slow down and really see all those turned around letters so kindly it made you want to crumble. Josh was the only one Jake ever went to for help, you couldn’t have paid him to be that vulnerable with anyone else. And Josh just soaked it up, helping Jake connect those dots. He’d grow so ecstatic and proud with each tiny success.”

You both laugh as Josh shoves at Jake’s shoulder, pointing angrily at the lilac and their task, clearly unhappy with something his twin hasn’t executed to his liking.

“That’s when I knew he’d be a teacher.” Her hand, so warm and maternal, pats your shoulder. “Josh, that is. We knew Jake’s fate the minute he was old enough to crawl towards a guitar.”

“The music man,” you watch him nip at his cup, leisurely and mellow, even as his brother barks orders at him.

“The music man.” She concurs, crunching into another carrot. “Always. Have you ever seen him play a song by ear? He’ll listen to it once and just stare off into space like nobody’s home. But really, he’s plucking all those notes out and locking them away. Next thing you know, he’s got it. Just like that. It’s incredible. Kelly and I used to look at each other and think, where in the hell did he come from?”

“Josh, too,” you offer, though of course she knows. “He sings to Lil all the time. Makes up these dumb little songs to make her laugh, or to help her remember something. And he sings in the shower because he seems to think it’s a magical box where no one can hear him.”

“Ah, yes,” she laughs, sliding her plate closer to you, ever the ‘mom’ wanting to nourish anyone who walks through her hallowed halls. “The shower concerts. He used to steal all the hot water constantly. It was worth it, though, to listen. They had a little band for a while. Did you know that?”

In your mind’s eye, the few pictures you’ve seen, pop up to say hello. “Sort of, but Josh kinda blew it off when I asked. Said he just helped Jake out with a few gigs when they were kids.”

A belly laugh, so much like her sons’, trills out of her. “It was way more than that, that liar. Used to have to drag them to all these shitty bars and parties. Samuel played bass. A friend of theirs, the drums…or sometimes Josh. That was always interesting. They were a mess, all over the place, but they had something special. And that’s not just mom talking, everybody said so.”

“So, what happened?”

“They started gaining a little recognition. Started being invited to play at the nicer places around town, and that was the idea all along, we thought. But, suddenly, Jake wanted nothing to do with it.”

Jake calling it quits would have been the absolute last thing you would have deemed to be the nail in the coffin.

She senses your surprise and nods along with it. “He finally told me why one night. Came in after having one too many at one party out in the woods or another. I sat him down at this very table right here and I know he thought I was about to climb up his ass about tapping a keg with his friends or whatever the hell they did that night, but really, I wanted to drag the truth out of him. The truth that mattered.”

“And?”

She leans back in her chair, shaking her head as if she still can’t believe it. On your end, you watch Josh snatch the cup from Jake’s grasp to steal a sip of his own.

“And, it made sense…his reason. Once he said it out loud it made so much sense I still don’t know how I’d missed it. He said things were falling together too cleanly for the band. That he knew they were headed for something that would be too heavy to easily put down, and that he knew it wasn’t what Josh wanted.”

A sigh sounds sad, but her eyes swim with pride for her youngest twin. “I told him he should let his brother make that call, but he’s always been wiser than the rest of us when it comes to Josh, and he said ‘That’s the thing, ma. He’s always gonna choose what I want. He has to think he’s choosing what I want.’”

Your throat feels tight with tears bitten back, “The way they have carried each other all through life is just…” you fall silent, lost for apt words.

“Yeah, well, they used to beat the hell out of each other on a regular basis, too, but that is for another day..” She nods toward the doorway behind you, and you turn to see Lil, rubbing her eye with one fist, and clutching her blanket with the other, as she stumbles nearer to coherency and her grandmother.

Karen scoops her up and whispers in her ear…Lil nods along and nuzzles her blankie, which is actually an old shirt of her daddy’s cut in half. Maroon and decorated with strange, colorful, geometric shapes, it has been her comforting companion for as long as you’ve known them.

“Okay, then…” Karen stands and deposits her favorite person down on her teensy feet. “Time to get this lunch finished up.”

Lily is sent off with a bribery popsicle to play with Rosie and Sam, as the two of you begin preparing to feed the brood.

~

“Why do I always find you up here, poppins?” He’s leaning against the doorframe, like the casually dapper lead in some movie he would never watch.

You turn away from the desk, where you’ve been gingerly touching relics, as though strolling through a particularly lenient museum.

You love this space, and you make no apologies for it. “I like it in here. Comforting chaos is kind of your brand. Both of you. Why do you always seem to be sneaking up on me in here?”

He grins softly as you lob the question back at him. “I suppose I am always sneaking up on you, aren’t I? Looking for you, searching you out, hunting for my girl.”

Hunting for my girl…jesus.

A gentle hum is your only reply as he slips into the room, kicking the door closed with the heel of his boot. He has showered since the lilac bush incident, and stepped into clean clothes that still somehow look disheveled.

His hair is still slightly damp, and you long to bury into it, to breathe in the perfume of fresh shampoo and him.

“You spoiled me last night, you know, babe.” Down he plops on his bed, the crowned royal head draped across his sovereign throne, just as he had been the last time you found yourself in this room with him. “Why don’t you come over here and allow me to indulge a little more, hmm? Can you be quiet, pretty girl?”

“Jake.”

He kisses the air lazily in your direction, folding his hands behind his head against the pillow, like you haven’t spoken his name at all, “C’mon, baby, I haven’t had my dessert yet.”

You want to go to him. God, how you want to go to him. You want to climb on top of him and fuck his beautiful mouth until you fall apart, and then you want to lie with him in this silent world it seems time has forgotten. You want to be his while her face smiles out of all those curling, yellowing, snapshots. She was so beautiful, a stunning package to hide all the ugliness she had in store for his precious heart.

But, you want truth even more.

“Would you have ever told me?” Your question - accusation? - comes a whisper.

He sits up slowly, eyes locked in and narrowed on yours. He knows what you’re asking, but he’s trying to make certain. You let him watch you for the longest stretch, with his pretty face tilted, studying, observing, until you’re fighting to sit still under his white hot scrutiny.

“Yes.” He nods, at last. “I think I probably would have. It’s interesting, isn’t it? The way you coax the truth out of us. Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?”

There they go again, singing different verses of the very same song.

“She’s what you gave up?” You lean forward, hushed and hungry for answers. “Like we talked about?”

He nods again, barely perceptible in the movement. “Like a kidney, right, poppins? Only so, so much worse.”

Questions gridlock inside your head as he shakes his own. “I told you before, it isn’t my story to tell, babe…and that’s just the way this one has to be.”

He closes up shop with a blink and saunters, calm and cool as ever, over to the door. “C’mon then, Mary Poppins, if you aren’t going to allow me to have my way with you, we really should rejoin the others.”

~

“Would you like something light?” Josh peers into his fridge while you watch from your perch on the counter. “I just picked up some strawberries from that little stand around the corner, I could make us a big salad. Fruit, nuts, romaine, a nice vinaigrette?” He holds up the basket of berries proudly. “Look how fat they are. Fucking beautiful.”

“Whatever you want, Josh,” you smile at his enthusiasm, as well as his eagerness to please.

He turns his attention to the pantry, and your pulse picks at the memory it conjures. “Pasta?” He holds up a box of angel hair, shaking it around invitingly. “I could whip up some butter and herbs, get you drunk on carbs.”

“Seriously, whatever you want is fine. Order a pizza for all I care.”

True to his predictions, Lily remained at the Kiszka homestead, and was half asleep in Jake’s arms by the time the two of you took your leave. And now here you sit, aching to blurt out question after question while he forages in his kitchen to put together a meal you couldn’t care less about.

“Alright,” he nods, and back to the fridge he goes, finally turning to face you bearing an untouched container of his beloved veggie sushi rolls. “Pretties for the thief?”

“It was one damn piece, Joshua.” You laugh, rolling your eyes at his ridiculous name calling.

“Grab a white and a couple glasses,” he nods over at the wine rack.

You do as instructed, and join him where he has settled in the living room, placing the stemware carefully on the coffee table before uncorking the bottle of reisling you selected. It should be chilled, but neither of you have ever cared much to begin with.

On his elegant end, he loudly wrenches open the plastic container and slides it over unceremoniously.

Without cheers, he tips his glass and then shrugs, “Okay, sweetheart, this is the story of myself, my Lily, and my idiot brother…”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @jakesgrapejuice @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @gretasmokerising @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty @sunfl0wer-power @sad1lynn @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie

[queen-of-the-misfit-toys]

Eye of the Beholder

Warnings: not much really, talk of sexy times

Word count: 0.7k a little thing

Summary: Sophie soothes Benedict's fears of needing glasses.

I can't resist this man in specs 😍🤓

____________________________________________

Benedict stood in his dressing room frantically rummaging through his waistcoats.

"Sophie, SoPHIEEEEE, I need you, Darling!!

"There's no need to shout, Ben. I was just at my vanity. Now whatever could be the problem?"

"Where the devil is my cornflower blue waistcoat? The one with the cherry and raspberry embroidery. I've looked everywhere for it and it is nowhere to be found!"

Sophie sighed as she walked over to the blue section of the wall. She reached and immediately pulled the much loved garment out of the crush of clothes.

"How? I've been through that section a dozen times! How did I miss it?"

"Darling," Sophie started softly and laid her hand on his arm, "I think it may be time to start considering spectacles. I've noticed that you are squinting a lot and I believe that your eyes may be the cause of your frequent headaches. Kate said Anthony recently received some and they have helped him tremendously."

Benedict blanched.

"Spectacles, Soph? I'm not that damn old yet!

"No one is calling you old, Ben. It's just th…"

"What next? A walking stick and an ear trumpet? Maybe a wheeled chair because I can't dodder around anymore?" His voice was reaching a pitch which Sophie knew her darling, dashing husband was about to lose it.

"Benedict Bridgerton, you are being utterly ridiculous. Needing spectacles does not mean you are old! Gracious, there are children who need them. Our dear Belinda must wear them and Daphne believes Caroline may need them as well. Do you consider your precious nieces old?"

He sat on the edge of their bed, looking chastened and forlorn.

"No, Soph. I do not consider them old," he sighed. " I've just always had perfect eyesight. Even when Colin stuck a spoon in my eye when I was seven, I recovered with seemingly no effects to my vision."

"Colin stuck a spoon in your eye?"

"He was two and I attempted to take a bowl of ice cream from him as I had finished mine. That's when we, well…I, learned how seriously he takes his food. Mother cried but Father joked that I deserved it for stealing Col's dessert."

He sat for a few minutes quietly while his wife rubbed his back.

"I'm not ready to lose my vitality yet. Or my virility, Sophie."

"Why would you think you would lose either, my love? The spectacles do not possess magical powers to suck all of your life-giving energy, Benedict." she teased him. "Only I have that magic power" she giggled into his ear as she palmed him through his breeches.

"Sophie!!

"What, my love? I am your wife. Can I not make advances towards you when the mood strikes?

"Not when I am having a crisis of confidence!"

"Darling Ben, that is quite possibly the most ridiculous thing I have heard come out of your mouth and I have heard many. Your wife, whom you daily heap praise on for being the most gorgeous, most intelligent, most interesting person of your acquaintance, has just propositioned you. One would think your confidence would be soaring."

"You won't be so amorous when you see me in spectacles. I'm sure they will make me look a fright."

Sophie kissed his shoulder.

"Actually, I think you will look very handsome in specs. Very distinguished, worthy of respect and honor. You will make all the ladies of the ton swoon, my love. And I will be first in line at your feet." She nuzzled his neck, inhaling the woodsy, smoky scent of him. " I am your biggest admirer after all."

Benedict groaned at his wife's attentions.

"You are the only person in the world that matters, my Sophie."

He reached around and pulled her into his lap, capturing her lips with his own.

"Then why are you so self-conscious about spectacles?" she mumbled against his mouth. " I've already told you how attractive I believe you will be with them. Sexy even. Very sexy. Have you ever considered making love in just spectacles, dear husband?"

"Sophia Maria, what has gotten into you? Not that I want it to stop, mind you."

He spun them around, laying her flat on the bed while he hovered over her.

"Do you really think I will look sexy in specs?" he asked as he licked along her collarbone.

"I shan't get anything done for lusting after you, my prince."

Benedict laughed heartily.

"I will call for the doctor this very afternoon."

[matcheadz]

HOS/ Host Of Seraphim Update!

Chapter 19 is called, "A Father's Presence."

TW for mention of alcoholism and death by it in the beginning. Mention of torture, but nothing explicit.

Here's a little spoiler-free snippet!:

“Looks like you got your hands full there Ms. Rheese. Eager to sign the adoption papers this early or are we putting them up for auction?” She snorted loudly, pressing her scarf back to her face in embarrassment as she walked up the steps. Dirty ice and vestiges of the light snowfall from the night fell off her boots with each step. “No, no, they’re not mine. Just a field trip. Don’t tempt me though, I might think about it.” She waved her hand sweetly, cupping her gloved hand against the glass and peering in through the front door. Her breath accumulated on the glass as she squinted. Her long, dirty blond hair curled around her ears like natural earmuffs, her hazel eyes jumping between the trio of them and the movement inside. She gave them a smile of intrigue, her hand still resting against the glass. “Popsicles in this weather? You must have a sweet tooth.” Vergil looked down at his popsicle and blinked, but Dante only snickered. “The real question is why the open-air market down the road still sells them.” “Ah, yes, well. The age-old question. No one really knows. I think there might be an old Innocenti out there who takes pity on the young orphans out here. I know I would.” The blond woman rubbed her mittened hands against her arms, calling over her shoulder to what Vergil presumed to be her assistant for the children. The glass door opened just enough for the woman to place her body in between it and the frame. Her face broke into a soft smile, whispering something low and kind to the person behind the door. Dante brushed himself of and made to stand up, but the woman leveled him an apologetic smile and shook her head. “Sorry sir, the schools have early access to government facilities to make sure the students are in order before they open to the public on. Sorry to cut in line, it might be a little while longer.” Dante waved a hand dismissively at her, “No worries missy, my brother here’s got a woman on the inside, apparently. She’ll pick up the degenerate street trash eventually.” Vergil blinked up at her, handing his half-finished popsicle to Dante as he stood up. “I believe she may currently be inside—” The door swung open, and the woman behind the door revealed herself in all her grinning glory. The blonde woman startled back as Allessandra opened her arms to him. “Amico?! I was starting to think you had left without saying goodbye!” Vergil did not get to open his mouth before he was forced into an embrace. Both his shoulders and his hands came up in defense and froze there, a protest dying on his lips. Mortified, he forced himself to pat at her shoulder once or twice, avoiding the suddenly calculating gaze of his new acquaintance and the burning stare at his back. Allessandra pushed away from his stiff form, hands on his shoulders as she grinned. “Oh, you said you’d be sticking around but I didn’t see you for such a long time and—oh! Mi dispiace!” She withdrew her hands, wincing at his strung-out expression and turning back to the blonde woman. The woman herself was now very stiff, her brow furrowed and crossing her arms. Allessandra gripped one of her elbows and stood up on the ends of her toes to give her a small peck on the cheek. The woman’s eyes flicked briefly down to the crowd of approaching children, but otherwise did not stop glaring at him. Vergil suddenly wanted to drown, ignoring his brother as he snorted. “Rheese, this is Vergil! You remember, I told you about him, no? Found him again last week with his son!”

[grey-pastels]

Names

Fandom: Six of Crows

pairing: platonic! Kaz brekker x reader

summary: reader is set on finding out what kaz' name is.

_________________________________________

It was ten bells and the night was just getting started. This might have been a quiet time in any place but not here,not in ketterdam,not in the barrell.

I was currently leading Jesper back to the crow club after having to basically pry the cards from his hands. I had found him in one of the gambling dens,as usual. And he was losing,as usual. Normally I would've just sat next to him,letting him do his thing. But tonight I wasn't in the mood for it. I really didn't want to deal with the speech Kaz would have about him losing all the money again. He would most certainly still hold one but I was just hoping it wouldn't take 10 minutes this time. As we entered the crow club I spotted him sitting in a dark corner,his corner. He glared at us, his usual unamused glare or maybe it was just how his face was stuck by now. When Jesper spotted him he immediately looked away and made a beeline for the bar. I did not. I walked towards him and sat down. I was waiting for him to speak,but of course he didn't. He was waiting for something. Maybe an apology or maybe a simple explanation. I would not give him that,not today. If he wanted it he could ask for it nicely and I might just comply.

"Fancy seeing you here,kazper" I said mockingly.

He was staring at me. He hated it. Ever since I joined the dregs, approximately 3 years ago I had started bothering him with these nicknames. To me it just seemed improbable for someone to name their kid Kaz. I have met jespers and even inejs before. Not many but they existed. So I have made it my goal to get his name. Not for the reason others might want it. I didn't want leverage on him or his past. I just wanted him,to know him. He was a walking mystery to everyone, but not to me. I have tried many names over the years. My personal favourites include kazzie, kazper and kazpian. He didn't show a hint of emotion other than annoyance when I said them so I presumed they weren't right.

He stood up and walked up the stairs. He walked rather fast despite his limp so I had a relatively hard time keeping up. He didn't say anything yet but that didn't stop me. I followed him to his room.  When I closed the door of his office he stood alarmingly close to me. Something Kaz never does. He seemed irritated,by me.

"Why are you so set on knowing my name?"

"Well for starters,kazstration. you know mine. You know me and I know you would never admit to it but i am the closest thing to a friend you have. I am aware inej and jesper are there too but it's different with us. Inej is your faith and jesper your- well actually I am not sure what he is to you"

" You are my crow, an investment. You all are. Not more nor less"

"I don't believe that"

He leaned his head to the side in disbelief. He always hated how stubborn and blunt I can be. I would never change it. It was one of my many talents to help annoy people, annoy him especially. When we first became acquaintances he had said " if you keep that up you won't survive long in the barrel and even shorter in the dregs" I simply smiled at him and continued with my day. Three years later I was still alive and he still disagreed with my ways.

"You are my family,kaz" he almost laughed at that. And  I realised what I had said. It wasnt the fact that I called him my brother, I meant that and I wasn't ashamed of it. But it was the first time I had called him kaz in years. I am not sure why I had done it but it felt right. I needed him to see I was serious and it wasn't another joke.

He kept quiet after that. I didn't expect him to say it back. I didn't need him to. I slightly pressed my palm against his shoulder,shoving him gently out of my way. I could hear his breath hitch for a second but he calmed himself rather fast. I was aware of his aversion to touch and I did my best to avoid physical contact. But now I just needed space and I didn't have the nerve to communicate it. Why would I need to speak my thoughts when he never does? I turned around and opened the door to leave. Before I fully shut it again I spoke up again. "You won't get rid of me, not of my energy either. And one day your gonna have to admit it. Speak the truth. Say that you like me around and perhaps admit it to her aswell,she isn't as patient as me with you and i dont blame her" I didn't need to speak her name, he knew. He always did. " I will see you tomorrow, Kazimir" he made a noise. I shut the door and I was sure I had it. I had his name. I had him.

[thelampisaflashlight]

A Cup of Sugar

[Something, something, Copia and his neighbor have a friendly discussion.]

"When I was in school, studying French, our teacher made us read The Stranger by Albert Camus." Jarno says, the cigarette clasped between his fingers becoming a long line of ash, dropping off onto the stone beneath the railing, "...I was not a particularly good student, my pronunciation was always off, but I did okay with reading, understood grammar and that sort of thing... better on paper than in practice, you know?"

He smiles.

"The book, I couldn't tell you if it was an enjoyable read, but it was a short one, a hundred and twenty-three pages or something of the sort, just one, two, three... I never did bother with it. Reading the book, but the opening line always stuck with me." he continues, finally flicking the ash away, brushing his hand over the railing to clean up the bit that had fallen there, "<<Aujourd'hui Maman est morte.>>"

"Today," he says, "Mother has died."

Jarno snuffs out his cigarette and drops the butt into his empty soda can.

"...I think part of the reason I'm so invested in Lillian Hess' case, is because she was like me." he explains, "A poor student, from a working class family... Going nowhere fast."

He leans against the railing, arms folded.

"We were in the same French class, acquaintances at best, but we talked... And it's funny in the way things are also profoundly... unfunny, but I keep thinking of that line when I think of her."

Jarno inhales slow and deep.

"I did not have a crush or some deep connection to Lillian, she and I spoke maybe once in the entire time we were in school together, but since she disappeared, the casual frankness in which others have spoken of her death hits me so..."

He stands up straight rolling his shoulders.

"Back then, it could have been me, and a sick part of me wonders why it wasn't." he sighs, "We had the same routine, neither of us were particularly fit, easy to pick off, and we were the kind of kids that always seemed to just... run away... but Lillian didn't run away, she was taken. I ran... and wound up back here, in this town."

Copia looks out over the rolling fields beyond the abbey's main walls, at the lake and the forest, "To here."

"To here." he nods, facing the older man now, "They want to blame you -your... disciples- for Lillian's disappearance, for her death, even if they never found more than a finger, they still found it in your woods."

"And what do you think happened to Miss. Hess, Mister Sheers?" the father asks, mismatched eyes aglow, "Do you wish to make any claims of foul play?"

Jarno slides his hands into his pockets.

"I have no interest in any of that."

"Then why have you come?"

He withdraws an object wrapped in a tawny terrycloth, carefully, he unfolds it to reveal a wickedly sharp looking claw.

"I know that whatever killed Lillian was not human, nor a hungry bear." he holds the claw out for Copia to examine, "You and I both know what beast this came from."

Copia's face sours as he takes the claw into his gloved hand.

"One of them has tasted human flesh and blood, they've broken their oath... a feral ghoul, or a free one."

"And you know of the ghouls, how?"

Jarno chuckles.

"I grew up there." he points to the lake, passed the buoys that mark the end of the abbey's property, "...I'm your neighbor."

"Our neighbor..." Copia whispers, thoughtful, "Then you've seen quite a lot, haven't you?"

"Enough. I have seen enough." he says, "Enough to know it would be stupid for me to even dream of trying to extort more from you than a cup of sugar."

"But here you are."

He nods.

"As I said... I am your neighbor." Jarno offers his hand, "Consider this an olive branch; A chance to keep you and yours safe, and protect mine as well. The beast that killed Lillian is likely still among your flock... I wish to cull it before more die unnecessarily."

Copia scoffs, smiling slightly, "So you have no fears of the evil cult living behind your house? No concerns over babes stolen in the night for ritualistic sacrifice?"

"You've not bothered me in all the years I have lived here, and, yes, I considered the possibility that you might be dangerous, but I also know it does you no good to kill me here, on your doorstep, especially when the police are watching you all so closely now."

"Fair enough..." Copia hums, "And if we do hunt down this beast, what then? What do you hope to gain from its death?"

"...The other nine claws."

[pyromaniacbibliophile]

Snakes, Books and Radio; 1919 broadcast {featuring Rosie}

Aziraphale walked into the large entrance room. It was absolutely full of people, all dressed in the latest fashion. Namely, cocktail and flapper dresses, suits and ties. This was 1919 of course, what else would one expect? The war had ended in June, three months ago. He was very glad, it had been nigh impossible to aquire books, even in America as he was.

To celebrate, when one of his acquaintances had invited him to this party, he had said yes. Before, he had planned to return to England and his beloved bookshop , but seeing as this was a time of joy and peace, he thought that he may as well party.

He wore his best outfit, a light beige suit and trousers with a crisp white shirt and blue tie. Accepting a glass of champagne from a waiter, he surveyed the room. For some reason, his eye was drawn to (he presumed) a couple, who were talking languidly in a corner.

The man was quite young, obviously to a semi-immortal angel everyone was young but this man looked young, if he had to guess he would say mid twenties. He had light brown skin, messily styled brown hair, thin glasses balanced on his nose, strangely red eyes and he was wearing a white shirt with a red-brown waistcoat. A red rose was tucked into his pocket.

His partner was shapely and tall, with strawberry blond hair in a bob, dark eyes, pale skin, a lovely pink feathered hat and a light pink blouse with darker accents tucked into a dark pink skirt.

Aziraphale could not understand why he was drawn to them, both were definitely human and didn't look too different from everyone else. Tearing his eyes away, he looked around further and nearly spat out his drink. Crowley was not who he expected to see, and certainly not looking like-like that!

The demon's hair was far longer than usual and fell down his back in g̶o̶r̶g̶e̶o̶u̶s̶ red waves. That was not the only change, if it was the angel probably wouldn't have been so stunned. However, Crowley was wearing a (black) dress. Not only that, but h̶e̶, well, h̶e̶ had a-a bosom! And hips and a waist and-well, all the evidence pointed to the demon being female. It was definitely Crowley, but Aziraphale was fairly confident the last time they had met, Crowley was decidedly male.

Walking over, he tapped the demon on the shoulder. Crowley span around delightedly "Heya Zira, darling" she purred "fancy seeing you here."

Unsure quite how to reply, he was quite relieved when their host, Charles Adrieux, who had been talking to Crowley, exclaimed happily "I say! Mr Fell, I didn't know you and Adeline were acquainted. Magnificent! Now I can seat you two together at lunch."

He darted off before Aziraphale could comment. Turning instead to Crowley, he asked incredulously "Adeline?"

"Why yes, Adeline.J.Crowley, at your service." she curtsied.

"Well-I- That is entirely beside the point. What are you doing here? I'll have you know, Mr Adrieux is a dear friend of mine and" he was interrupted by Crow-Adeline laughing.

"Relax Angel, I'm not here for anything nefarious. Actually, Charles is" and here her eyes sparkled mischievously "as much a dear friend of mine as he is of yours. I'm just here to celebrate! Am I not allowed to have fun? Or is that a privilege taken away when one strolls leisurely downwards, if you catch my drift?"

" I suppose a tiny bit of fun might be permitted.... " He said, hoping it was the safest answer.

"Spectacular! Well Angel, would you do me the honour of being my partner for the evening?"

He must have looked stunned as Adeline added"no need to worry, it's not like any of your lot would ever come down here unless either you were in severe trouble or the world was ending, neither of which is happening so we're fine"

He wanted to protest, after all, despite her change in looks, she was still a demon, the Enemy... But her points did make sense, and one night did not friends make..."Alright then."

Adeline grinned. Just then, a loud voice boomed "Greetings everyone! It is such a pleasure to see all my friends here to celebrate the war's end!" There was a large cheer. "Now, my chefs have prepared a delectable feast, if you would start to enter the dining room, your seating will be assigned." Charles shouted into a megaphone with delight.

"so, how did you meet Charles?" she enquired

"I could ask you the same thing, Ladies first and all. "

"Well played, let me see. I believe we first met in Italy actually, he runs in similar circles as I." Aziraphale was astounded. He knew all about the sort of people Adeline's circles tended to attract, he would never have thought.. "Charles? Really?"

"Really, you wouldn't think so looking at him, would you?"

The Angel replied in the negative , then both quieted as they entered the large dining room. Quickly, they found their seats, flowery script on neat cards next to each other proclaimed

𝓜𝓻 𝓐. 𝓩𝓲𝓻𝓪. 𝓕𝓮𝓵𝓵

𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓐𝓭𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮. 𝓙. 𝓒𝓻𝓸𝔀𝓵𝓮𝔂

Taking their seats, they fell back into conversation, after all, it had been years since their last meeting. About 5 minutes later, they were joined by their seating partners, who were, funnily enough, the couple Aziraphale had been drawn to earlier. The man drew out the chair for the lady and then sat. Looking subtly over, Aziraphale could see their cards read

𝓜𝓻 𝓐𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻.𝓒𝓸𝓻𝓶𝓲𝓮𝓻

𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓛𝓮𝓿𝓲 -𝓥𝓲𝓭𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓮

Adeline, who was seated next to 'Alastor', introduced herself "Hello, I'm Miss Crowley, but please, call me Adeline. May I have the pleasure of your names?"

"A pleasure indeed to meet such a fine lady, my name is Alastor and this is my good friend Rosie." He said smoothly, kissing the back of her hand.

Aziraphale felt suddenly slightly jealous, but couldn't imagine why. The lady, Rosie, then enquired "And who might you be?"

Realising he hadn't introduced himself yet, he spoke"oh, how terribly rude of me, I'm Zira. Adeline and I are old friends."

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet both of you."The four began talking, and soon the conversation turned to their host.

"if you don't mind me asking, how did you two meet our illustrious host?" Zira asked, genuinely curious, the duo didn't seem like the type to know Charles.

"Well, he is an investor in my radio show"

Alastor began before the angel interrupted him "You have a radio show? What's it about?" he said excitedly, he adored listening to radio while reading.

"I'm unsure whether a gentleman of your standard would enjoy it, as it mainly features discussions about crime, mostly violent. Sometimes we interview the victims, if they are still alive of course. I'm afraid I have rather an interest in the criminal mind."

Adeline cocked her head. "That sounds intriguing," she said, interest clear in her tone. "I shall have to listen to it"

Aziraphale was interested as well and said so. Despite being an angel, he did rather enjoy discussions of crime. "In strictest confidence, may I ask what the next broadcast will be about?"

"Oh yes, tell all, Al. I must confess a slight curiously myself" Rosie admitted.

"I trust you all can keep a secret? Very well, it is an exploration into the possible motives of two serial killers. To be more precise, the Smiling Hunter and the Strangling Rose. I didn't particularly want to do it, however the producer insisted."

The names rang a bell, but he wasn't quite sure where from. "Would you be so kind as to refresh my memory of them?" he asked.

Rosie did so. "First, people often accociate the two together because of their victims. Both tend to target r@pists, however the Rose also kills abusive husbands while the Hunter also kills rich white businessmen. Apart from that, no one can find a link between the two so joining them is irrational. "

" Do you have an interest in crime as well?" Adeline asked Rosie.

"Not as such, I merely have a very good memory and Al talks a lot about work."

Alastor aquiesed to this statement with a brief nod. Still curious, Aziraphale queried "Why are they called the Smiling Hunter and the Strangling Rose? There must be a reason?"

"Oh, there is, but it is rather gruesome, I am afraid it isn't quite the topic to discuss over lunch. Perhaps we can continue after food?" Alastor said.

Aziraphale was fairly confident he and Adeline would both be fine, having eaten crepes while watching beheadings of aristocracy and witnessed the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, amongst other things. However neither of them could tell their present company this, so agreed. The first course was served, salmon mousse on sliced rye bread.They began to eat.

Part way through, Rosie laughed and said "do forgive me Zira, but I have been meaning to ask, where are you from? I admit having a slight curiosity"

"Go on Angel" Adeline added when it became apparent he had paused for too long.

"Well, I live in England, but the Fell family come from all over." There. No lie had been told. He was the Fell family, after all, although can it really be called a family if it only has the one member?

"Ah! England would explain your accent, yes. Tell me, what's it like? I've never been."

"it is very nice, I own a bookshop in London, the capital city."

"you own a bookshop?" Alastor said excitedly. The rest of the meal went very quickly, Rosie and Zira swapping seats so they could talk to Adeline and Alastor separately.

The time had passed so quickly, they decided to bid farewell to their host and go to 'a darling little tea shop' recommended by Rosie, to keep talking. Neither Aziraphale or Adeline had enjoyed human company this much for ages.

Strolling out of the dining room, they found Charles and said farewell to him, Alastor promising that this week's broadcast would be better (and bloodier) than ever. As they left the manor, Rosie led them round streets and through a small alley until they came out in front of a lovely, flower decorated, tea shop. Walking in, Alastor and Zira got a few looks, men didn't usually visit tearooms such as these, but soon enough the oddity was forgotten and the customers turned back to their friends.

From behind the counter, an older woman wearing a smart brown blazer and skirt rushed over, embracing Rosie with a delighted cry "Darling! It has been too long, far too long. You have finally come to your Aunt Ophelia's shop yes? Come, sit. Who are your friends?"

The four sat around the prettily decorated table that Ophelia had showed them to. Rosie smiled. "Dearest Aunt, I sincerely apologise for my absence but I have been very busy with things. Everyone, this is my godmother Ophelia. Aunt, you know Alastor,"

"Well of course I do, but I am fairly certain I have never seen these two in my life" while speaking she gestured broadly to Aziraphale and Adeline.

Both Zira and Rosie were rather stunned when Adeline winked roguishly and said"oh yes you have, surely you recall the party in 1905? The one in Lafayette?"

Ophelia looked briefly confused then shocked. "No. Crowley? Ha! You've changed"

"Oh, maybe just a bit. And it's Adeline currently" said demon purred laughingly"

My, my. Well, as it turns out I know three of this illustrious band, so may I enquire whom you may be, Mr..."

Zira started and answered "Fell, Zira Fell. A pleasure to meet you, madam."

" Ooh, no, I am no madam, just plain Ms Blanche. Shall I bring you cake and sandwiches and some iced tea?"

"The iced tea sounds perfect, unfortunately we have just been to lunch at the Adrieux manor, so we will have to decline the food." Alastor said, he adored Ophelia's cakes and was slightly disappointed at being unable to eat them today.

"But of course, no matter, I shall prepare your tea and leave you to your conversation." with that she departed.

"How did you meet my godmother?" Rosie enquired.

Adeline grinned. "It was at a rather excellent party a while back, she's an excellent dancer. Anyway, do spill the tea on these two serial killers, I find myself much intrigued..."

_______________________________________

Hope you enjoyed! There will be more in this series, I have a ✨plan✨now

[annwrites]

—boarding school

come on, everybody to the boarding school. make love with our teachers. — englishteacher!oc x student!oc ; ˗ˏ✎❜❜

You sit quietly at your desk, watching as the teacher scrawls his name in large print across the blackboard—his cursive impeccable.

You wish you had handwriting like that, but the public school system only bothers doing so much.

Maybe you’ll learn it here. You doubt it, however.

Your eyes study his attire. He dons a crisp white button-up shirt and a neutral-colored plaid vest, black dress-slacks, and polished dress shoes. He seems very old-fashioned just from his clothing alone.

Finally, he sets down the chalk, wiping his hands against one another before facing the full, seated class before him.

“My name is Mister Taylor, and you will address me as such.”

He rests his arms behind his back. “You’re all here for various reasons. But I think it suffices to say paramount among them is a need for discipline and structure. My class is only one of multiple that you’ll be taking here to further, and complete your educations. I can’t speak to how others run their classrooms, but in mine, when I give an assignment or instruction, I expect it to be done with your utmost effort, and for said instruction to be followed to the letter. Otherwise,” he says, gesturing to the door, “You’ll find yourselves quite acquainted with the Dean in no time at all. Make no mistake: whatever you were allowed to ‘get away with’ before arriving here—such behavior has reached its end.”

He walks around to the front of his desk, and leans back against it with crossed arms. “Do I have any questions?”

You hear a pair of girls whispering quietly behind you, and then one giggles and she shifts in her seat.

Mister Taylor nods to her. “Yes, Miss…”

“Kenova,” she says sweetly.

He waits for her to continue.

“Are you married?” She asks with an obvious smile to her voice.

He doesn’t shift his stance—does not so much as avert his gaze—when he replies.

“Gather your things, Miss Kenova.”

“W-what? Why?”

“Do as I’ve asked. I won’t repeat myself.”

The room remains silent while she does as he’s told her, sliding a messenger bag onto her shoulder before walking quietly to the front of the room.

Mister Taylor leads her over to the door, and he opens it, then speaks lowly to her as he gestures with his hand.

She nods then, silently stepping out, and he shuts the door behind her, returning to his previous stance.

“Would anyone else like to accompany Miss Kenova to the Dean’s office, or should we begin our class for the day?”

Everyone remains quiet, including you, as you stare at him with wide eyes—somewhat surprised by him not so much as giving the girl a warning. But sending her immediately to the head of the school was clearly meant to be as much for the rest of you.

You’re fortunate that you’re quiet by nature, then. But you wonder if he’s level-headed by any means, or if he merely looks for excuses to go on power trips.

You wish that you’d been assigned to the other English teacher now instead.

“Miss Y/N, I’d like to see you after class to discuss your essay.”

Your eyes flit to Mister Taylor’s—your heart jumping into your throat, terrified you’ve done something wrong and are going to be reprimanded for it, or worse—and you nod in response.

Mister Taylor grabs a spare chair from the back of the classroom, and he carries it up front. He turns it around with the back facing you, straddling it.

You’re surprised that he doesn’t sit behind his desk while he makes you stand before it as he chastises you.

He then rests his arms atop the back of it.

“I wanted to tell you how impressed I was by your essay—rather, story—and I just wanted to sit down with you and ask what was so different about this assignment.”

Your brows furrow, so he explains.

“With your other work that you’ve turned in, there’s a reason why I only granted you Bs and Cs. It’s because, while you were putting your utmost effort into it, and you were completing the assignments and doing so within the appropriate time-frame, you quite clearly weren’t putting yourself into it. You were holding back, and I could tell. But this time something shifted. What you wrote was…extraordinary. It enveloped me within it as if I were there.”

You smile slightly, happy to be receiving praise for your work. To be receiving praise in general.

“Where did you get the idea for it?” He asks.

You fold your hands in your lap, your eyes flitting down to them while you nervously rub them together. “It’s… You’ll think it’s stupid.”

He leans forward and you look at him, watching as he smiles warmly.

You realize then that you’ve not seen him smile even once in class.

“I won’t,” he states quietly. “You’re not the first artist to worry about being judged for their work. But I assure you that you won’t be with me. I’m simply curious.”

You clasp your fingers together, glancing to the window to your left, watching as green trees sway softly from a late summer breeze.  

“It comes from daydreams. A fantasy.”

You look at him once more. “I was sent here because my mother finally got what she always wanted: a wealthy husband to provide for her. And those things he provided included a way to finally be rid of me. And I…”

You smile slightly.

Tears brim in your eyes as you look upwards, before leveling your gaze again.

“I was so afraid, at first, to be sent away to boarding school. But, for the first time in my life, I feel free. Like I can breathe. Like I’m not cutting open my feet on eggshells. This place serves as the very opposite of a punishment for me. It’s an escape—not a cage. Because being here…the door to my own is finally open. So, my story was the place I went, before, when I felt trapped.”

You shrug. “I ran away and joined the circus. I found a new family; made friends for the first time. I had a home that wasn’t sedentary; I saw the country. And I was given a purpose. And it was to bring people joy. Some days, I served as a fortune teller. Some nights, I was an acrobat. Others, a trapeze artist. I went to a place I had never been, and saw such amazing things. And then, inevitably, I always had to return to my real life. And the dream faded away. So, that’s where my idea came from. My hopes and dreams and my head.”

His eyes flit between your own and you lean back, your cheeks heating, feeling mortified for being so personal.

You’d sounded like a child who still plays make-believe and lives in her imagination.

And then he smiles again.

“Hold on to that,” he says quietly. “Hope. Dreams. Because, when you get to be my age, the world bears down on you and destroys them. It doesn’t stop until you’re jaded and empty.”

He rises from his chair. “I expect to see more work written at the caliber you did this story. Do you understand?”

You stand then, as well, and smile. “I do.”

You walk around the side of his desk and he pulls a cookie tin from the side drawer.

Your brows furrow.

“I hope this isn’t… That it doesn’t come off as inappropriate.”

He slides the tin toward you.

“When my maternal grandmother passed, she had a collection of these in her house, and her children, and grandchildren… We divvied them up between us. This was the one I chose. And it’s been sitting in a box collecting dust for years. I just thought, maybe, you’d like to have it. That you could give it a new home.”

You wrap your hands around the cool metal and lift it, a smile spreading across your lips as you look it over.

“It’s a carousel,” you say quietly, turning it around it your hands.

The lid is raised—a gold ball in the middle, with stripes of white and red painted across it, while the tin itself has numerous horses printed and raised along it in various colors.

Your eyes flit to his and you find him smiling softly at you.

“Open it.”

You raise a brow and he grins. “I promise it’s not two decade-old cookies, or sewing supplies.”

You do as he’s asked and find two tickets resting within.

You set the tin down, retrieving them.

“There’s going to be a small circus in town in a few days,” he says. “And I was wondering… You said you’ve never been, but you’ve always wanted to go. We could do so together, if you’d like.”

You smile broadly, while happy tears shimmer in your eyes.

“I’d like that,” you tell him.

The summer before your senior year, your mother finds for herself a new man. One of wealth and prospects. And through him, she finds something further: a way to finally be rid of you. The thing she’s always said was responsible for ruining her life.

So they send you away to boarding school. And it becomes a place of refuge.

And then you meet Mister Taylor, your English teacher, who has a reputation for being even stricter than the Dean himself. You vow to do what you can to stay in his good graces, not wishing to end up like your reprimanded classmates. And then, after writing a story that you pour yourself into, do you gain his attention and find someone to surprisingly confide in.

He shows you a different side of himself—a kinder, more honest one—in particular when he makes your one dream come true of seeing the circus. And that fateful night is when a love story of your very own begins.

headcanons:

the idea for this story actually came from a dream I had. the only thing in said dream was cillian murphy—who was clearly a teacher in it—the cookie tin & the tickets to the circus. i expanded from there.

[gunilslaugh]

I love ur work! Can i ask you a Gaon oneshot where the reader is jooyeon’s bestfriend?

Thank you so much! Here's your request!

Kwak Jiseok

Summary: Jiseok has a hopeless crush on you, Jooyeon’s best friend.

WC:1.8k 

Warning:grammar

photo not mine credits to owner.

Jooyeon is your best friend. The two of you met when you were both fifthteen, at an arcade. You and him ended up playing a two person shooting game together and discovered that you made a great team. Spending the rest of your time at the arcade together and exchanging numbers before parting. It was pretty much history after that, you and Jooyeon would meet up basically every weekend. Prime hangout spot was the arcade, but you also ventured elsewhere together. Like movies, cafes, markets, food parlors, just wandering the streets. 

Once Jooyeon became a trainee, let alone debuted, your hangouts became less, but you understood how busy he was and supported him all the way through. It’s not like the amount of time spent together determines friendship levels.

Over time you have become acquainted with Jooyeon’s members as well. Mostly seeing them via video screen when you and Jooyeon were on a call. You did see them in person too though, you were no stranger to their dorm and occasionally you would all grab a meal together. 

Presently it was one of the times that you saw the members in person. You were briefly stopping by their dorm to meet up with Jooyeon before the two of you went out.

“Well if it isn’t my rival,” you said in a playful tone upon seeing Jiseok after he opened the door for you. Jiseok only laughed at your words, stepping aside to let you in.

“Why is he your rival?” Seungmin asked, after overhearing what you called Jiseok.

“Oh it’s just a joke. Jooyeon said that Jiseok was his best friend out of Xdinary Heroes members, so I started calling Jiseok my rival,” you explained.

“I told you. Jiseok is my best friend in Xdinary Heroes, but you’re my best friend in life,” Jooyeon stated, emerging from his room. 

“Tomato, tomato. A best friend is still a best friend. Are you ready?” you checked. 

“Then we could just be a group of best friends,” Jooyeon slings one arm around your shoulders and the other around Jiseok’s shoulders, pulling the three of you closer together. “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go,” he releases Jiseok, but keeps his hold on you, turning to walk out the door.

“Well looks like your title might change from rival to best friend,” Seungmin jokes. 

“I don’t want to be best friends though I want to be their boyfriend,” Jiseok pined, looking at the door you and Jooyeon just left from.

“How can you be their boyfriend when you hardly talk to them?” Seungmin laughed.

“I-I talk to them. Not frequently, but I talk to them,”Jiseok defended.

“Well if you want to up your title to boyfriend you’ll have to make talking to them a frequent occurrence,” Seungmin noted, before leaving. Jiseok was now alone with his thoughts about how he was supposed to talk with you more. It would be weird if he just randomly started conversations with you right? He thought about asking Jooyeon for your number, but then decided that might also be too weird. What was he supposed to do? Maybe he’ll just hopelessly crush on you forever.

“What if we did hang out with Jiseok?” Jooyeon questioned you as you guys walked around, eating food you bought from a street vendor.

“The three of us?” you asked, turning to look at Jooyeon.

“Yes, the three of us,” he clarified with a small laugh. “I just think that it would be fun. I’m sure you two would get along great. I mean you already talk right?” Jooyeon continued. 

“We don’t really talk frequently, but yeah we’re close enough for me to jokingly call him my rival, so there’s that,” you responded. 

“Exactly, so it would be nice for all of us to hangout together,” Jooyeon claimed.

“You’re really pushing this group of best friends, aren’t you?” you accused him.

“I just think that it would be nice for my two best friends to get to know each other better. Is that so wrong?” Jooyeon said. It wasn’t a lie he didn’t want you and Jiseok to get to know each other better. However it wasn’t because you’re his two best friends. It was because he knew all about Jiseok’s crush on you and he made it his goal to get you two together. He put on his cupid wings and was ready to shoot you with an arrow that had Jiseok’s name on it.

“Fine, let’s all hangout together, the three of us,” you caved. It would be nice to know more about your rival anyway.

“Great! I’ll set it up,” Jooyeon exclaimed happily. You shook your head at how excited he was, not getting how it could be such a big deal.

“You’re going to love me~” Jooyeon sang to Jiseok as he returned to the dorm.

“Why?” Jiseok pondered.

“I convinced y/n that the three of us hanging out together would be fun,” Jooyeon informed, wiggling his eyebrows.

“So what are you saying?” Jiseok asked for clarification. 

“I’m saying we're all going to hang out together, so you can finally spend time with y/n instead of just pining over them. Isn’t that great?” Jooyeon told him.

“You’re right, I do love you!” Jiseok spoke excitedly. Excitement bubbling up inside of him at the thought of spending time with you, being able to have real conversations. 

The day has come. The day where you, Jooyeon and Jiseok are all hanging out together. The three of you met up at a mall, thinking it would be nice to just walk around and do some shopping. 

“See this is nice, just hanging out as the three of us,” Jooyeon stated. Once again one of his arms around each of yours and Jiseok’s shoulder. You were starting to get suspicious as to why Jooyeon wanted you to hang out with Jiseok so much.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Jiseok agreed. The two are now looking over at you waiting for your answer.

“It’s nice,” you agreed too. Jiseok was fun to be around, you understood why Jooyeon called him his best friend in Xdinary Heroes.

Currently you and Jiseok were sitting at a table in the food court while Jooyeon was away getting the food. Again you found it strange how heavily he insisted on being the one to get the food. Maybe he really did just want you and Jiseok to get to know each other better and you had. After spending multiple hours with him, being a group of best friends didn’t sound bad at all. Jooyeon came back with the food, but you were too busy with your conversation with Jiseok to see the teasing look Jooyeon shot at Jiseok. Before going home you and Jiseok exchanged numbers. You saved him as “Rival :)” in your phone. Although he definitely didn’t feel like a rival now. You’re not sure he really ever did though. Thinking about it you can’t actually recall a time he said that Jooyeon was his best friend or a time he ever referred to you as his rival. He usually would just smile a pretty smile or laugh with his happiness inducing laugh whenever you called him the name. 

Time went on and hangouts as a group of three became a regular thing, so did you frequently texting or calling Jiseok. So much so that now Jooyeon would joke about Jiseok being his rival for your spot as best friend. 

“You know I don’t want to be their best friend, so that joke is pointless,” Jiseok argued.

“I know, you want to be their boyfriend, but in order to achieve that you’ll have to confess,” Jooyeon stated.

Unbeknownst to Jiseok, you wanted him to confess too. You didn’t want Jiesok to be your best friend. After spending more time with him and talking, for lord knows how many hours you started to think that the term boyfriend would fit Jiseok better. Yes, you got happy when Jooyeon’s contact name lit up your phone, but your heart didn’t skip a beat like it did with Jiseok’s. Spending time with Jooyeon was always great, but your stomach didn’t swarm with butterflies with your hands brushed or when you sat so close your legs touched. You found that you developed a crush on Jiseok to say the least. 

Today you were doing something you’ve never done before. You were hanging out with Jiseok alone. No Jooyeon, no group of best friends. Just the two of you. 

“Hey,” Jiseok greeted you with a warm smile.

“Hey,” you greeted back, offering a smile too. Both of you then headed inside the cafe you decided to hangout at. Once you received your orders you made your way over to a table, sitting down across from one another. It wasn’t awkward like you thought it might be without Jooyeon there. It was quite enjoyable actually. It was as if the two of you had been hanging out, just the two you, for years. It only made you fall deeper for him as well. 

Proceeding leaving the cafe Jiseok was currently walking you back to your place. Your hands have now accidentally brushed for the fifth time, so you finally just gathered up your courage and grabbed Jiseok’s hand. He looked a little surprised at your action, but held your hand tighter in response. 

“Y/n,” you called you after walking in silence for a while, hands still locked together. 

“Yeah,” you replied, turning your head to face his direction.

“I have something to tell you,” he says, stopping his steps, making you do the same.

“Go ahead,” you told him. Jiseok takes your other hand in his, now holding both of your hands.

“I like you,” he confessed. “I never wanted to be your rival or another best friend. I just wanted to be your boyfriend,” he revealed. A blush creeps its way onto your face, making you look down at your shoes. You took a breath looking back up to Jiseok.

“I want you to be my boyfriend too,” you admitted, swinging your laced hands a bit.

“Really?” he asked, eyes wide, grip on your hand tightening.

“Yes, I like you too, Jiseok. I want you to be my boyfriend,” you tell him.

“Then I am. I’m officially your boyfriend,” Jiseok declares. 

“Perfect. I’ll have to change your contact name now,” you say.

“What is it now?” he asked.

“Rival with a smiley face,” you informed, beginning to walk again.

“You really liked calling me that, didn’t you?” he chuckled

“Yeah, but I like being able to call you boyfriend better,” you said.

“Me too,” he agreed with a blush dusting his cheeks.

“Finally! That took you so long!” Jooyeon booms upon Jiseok telling him that he’s officially your boyfriend now. He’s happy of course because his two best friends make the best couple.

[casp1an-sea]

Darling Requiem Part 1

TW: STALKING AND BLOOD

This is a Horror Romance Story, for my TWST fans out there Judas is inspired by Rook Hunt. Key word is inspired by, he is not Rook!

—————————————————————————

- Supernatural, horror, stalker romance-

Chapter 1:

Boy in the rain

-On the night of the moon-

Boots on pavement. Heavy breaths. Running… running… running. I stop and scan the area around me. The harvest moon’s haunting glow illuminates the sidewalks over the tops of dying trees and closed local shops. My leg is wet. Maybe it was from a puddle I accidentally trampled in? I reached down to wipe the wetness away, but winced in pain when my fingers collided with my clammy skin. Blood. Right. I had cut my leg on broken glass. In the urgency of the situation, I forgot about my own injury. Standing here was doing nothing. I needed to get my senses about myself again. I stepped to the right, pressing my back against the cold brick on the side of an old barbershop. Shielding myself from view, if anyone passed by.

I took a deep breath and whispered, “ OK where are you? Why are you here and what’s going on? Let’s figure this out.” I thought for a moment on how to answer my own questions. My memories were foggy, as if something was holding them back. I remember the tree. A crooked tree behind the school, and a figure looming over me. A Familiar figure. A neighbor? No, a friend. a boy I met at school. I had known him. He was nice, he was… I was… I suddenly remembered something. I had been running from him. Images flashed into my mind, my body lying limp on the crook in the tree, his face looking over mine, a wicked twisted smile plastered from one ear to the other. His looks, almost inhuman. Quickly, I reached for my neck, hitting my elbow against the brick wall in the process, causing my arm to seize up a moment. Once the pain subsided, I brushed my fingers across the side of my throat. If I felt any pain, I was too absorbed in my own thoughts to notice. I pulled my fingers away. I could feel my hand shaking. A dark liquid remained on my fingertips, dripping slowly down into my palm...

-A week Prior-

I sat outside the school on the front steps, looking out into the early morning. “Hi Fabian!” Various friends and acquaintances shouted past as they walked indoors. “Hi!” I said back with false enthusiasm. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to speak to them or that I was in a bad mood, but I had this weird feeling. I just wanted some silence. Which was odd for me but nonetheless, I was happy. Music quietly played through my earbuds, making me feel as if it was a soundtrack to my own personal movie. People passed by, but avoided my spot on the steps, so as not to trip over my things. 

Lunch would be ending soon, but that was OK. I wanted to keep looking at the gray placid sky. It looked as if it could break open any moment. I felt a raindrop on my shoulder. I looked at where it had landed. “It's sprinkling.” I said to no one in particular. I checked the time on my phone. 12:38, that meant I had three minutes left before the bell would ring for my second hour of broadcasting. I looked up and saw something in the distance. A tall lanky boy stood out in the field in front of the school. The rain had gotten considerably heavier now, but I was mostly covered by a metal awning. However, this guy was clearly getting soaked. He danced in circles, smiling and laughing. I could even hear him humming a faint tune despite the heavy downpour he was in the middle of. I stood up, squinting, trying to make out his features, but I couldn’t recognize him.

“That’s odd” I thought. Our school and town for that matter was very close knit and small. It was rare I would find someone I didn’t recognize, and even more rare that someone new would come along. I kept watching him. He was captivating for some reason. His smile just seemed so… so giddy. I felt my mouth open to call out to him, but I stopped myself before any sound came out. Why did I want to speak to this stranger? Lightning flashed overhead, jolting me out of my thoughts.

“Hey, you come inside young man!” I was quickly startled by the administrator's voice. For a moment I thought he was speaking to me, but then I realized he was yelling to the boy in the field, who turned quickly, waved at the both of us, and calmly walked to the front of the school.

“My deepest apologies, seems as though I got carried away.” he smiled as he spoke, nodded to the administrator with respect and walked by with an arrogant yet charming confidence to him. His clothing was soaked, and his chin length black hair was plastered to his cheeks and forehead. Making him seem a bit goofy to be acting in such a manner. He turned to me and Suddenly with an air of friendliness, said. “ I saw you watching me. If you wanted to come dance you could’ve joined.” 

“dance? Oh yeah, right… is that what you were doing?” I answered awkwardly. His eyes were kind and welcoming. They were an odd unique color I had never seen in someone’s gaze before. A misty gray that matched the Hue of the stormy sky. He tilted his head and began laughing.

“Huh? What’s so funny?” I exclaimed, startled.

“You’re staring.”

“I am?! Oh sorry! I just have never seen you before.”

“It’s alright no harm done.”

“Both of you get inside and get to class!” The administrator called exasperated.

“Oh right, the bell did ring, didn’t it?” I said as I checked my phone for the time. 12:41, It had just rung.

“We’ll be fine there’s still five minutes before the tardy bell,” He assured me as he placed his cold wet hand on my shoulder. “Let us head inside. Though I would still enjoy chatting out here with you, I wouldn’t want to upset the faculty on my first day.”

“First day? Oh that explains it.” I noticed him glance at my ID and I quickly moved my jacket over it, as to hide my dead name. “Fabian! It’s Fabian!”

“Oh my apologies, force of habit. What are your pronouns?”

“He/him. Well actually also Ey/Em/Eir/Eirs/Emself, but no one actually remembers to use that.”

“Oh. Do you have a preference then?”

“Uhm no not really, I actually have two preferred names though so you can also call me Frey if you want to. Again no preference.” I looked down, I always found explaining my two names to be awkward and irrationally feared judgment. I quickly changed the subject to mask my discomfort. “What about you?” I asked him, doubts raced through my head… 

“Was my introduction awkward?”

 “It felt awkward…” 

“OH NO IT WAS AWKWARD!”

 “What if he thinks I’m too complicated?”

 “Would it be weird to tell him my gender?”

 “Probably but I don’t wanna be perceived as feminine or gender neutral.”

 “What should I do?”

 “Gosh, why can’t I stop looking at him?”

 “His hand is kind of cold…”

“My name is Judas. He/him pronouns, but I really don’t mind what you use. As you know I am a new student so perhaps you could help me. Do you know where room 315 is?” The number caught my attention. That was the number of the broadcasting room.

I internally sighed with relief though the discomfort had not yet completely faded. “I actually do! That's where I’m heading right now. Broadcasting?”

“Uhm,” He pulled out his schedule to check. “Yes it seems so. What a lovely coincidence.”

“Well In that case follow me.” I walked briskly down the hallway, which was less crowded than usual, as it was later than the time I normally went to class. I took a sharp turn down a short hallway connecting the two main halls and pointed to the first door which was wide open showing a dimly lit computer lab inside. “Come on in,” I told him as I walked through the door.

“It’s Fabian! My best friend Ivy shouted in their overly dramatic way as she saw me enter the room.

“Oh so you leave us friday and you decide to show up late today?” Harper said sarcastically as she filled in a coloring sheet on the recording table. I raised my eyebrows at her and set my bags down as the bell rang.

“Pretty sure that means I’m not late bro.” I nodded towards the hall where the bell was ringing.

“If you get here after Klark you’re late.” She nodded to Klark who was busy doing something on his computer and didn’t even hear his name.

“Okay whatever, I would like you guys to meet Jud-'' My voice trailed off as I turned and saw he was nowhere to be seen.

[bubblepopsims]

R: "Okay so you remember the party correct? yeah well, you also remember how I really DIDN'T want to go? well anyway so we were at the party and everything was fine.. I forced myself to talk with people, laugh, and enjoy the food and drinks as much as i possibly could. I finally got time to just stand by myself and what did i see when I looked over? Tobias laughing with fucking redhead... she was being all flirty and touching his arm and even chest.. it took everything in me not to storm over there and break her fucking hand." J: "Damn ruby..... that's not like you AT ALL!" R: "I FUCKING KNOW... anyway. so I decided I had to take a breather and went out in the hall."

Flashback pt. I

“Ughh what the fuck is he thinking?! “Make friends” my ass! This fucker was blatantly flirting right in my fucking face. Pisses me off! And what most pisses me off about this is the fact I AM pissed!” Ruby groaned and looked up out the window just watching the cars pass by the main road that was behind the house the opening celebration of a new win for her in the ring was held. Usually she didn’t care much for them but this was one of the biggest nights of her life. One of the biggest wins. Ruby became the woman to beat, the woman to strive for in the ring…Including the biggest check. But She wanted to just go home and get into her pjs but Josiah and Tobias insist on her showing face and getting acquainted more with her team that has been working hard for her.

But now she found herself in the hall pouting and pissed off to something that might have not even been what she saw. But yet it boiled her blood to see another woman’s hand on what she believed was hers. “Mine..? What the fuck am I going on about.. no. No. No. Pull it the fuck together Ruby. You do not feel this way remember you don’t fucking care! You don’t-  Her thoughts were interrupted when that familiar voice called out to her.

She sighed  glancing over her shoulder to see Tobias “jesus can’t he just go away?! He is the last person I want to see right now. ESPACIALLy after that bullshit. Stupid fucking redhead. Fucking hate red heads.” and held her posture in the defense. R: “go away Tobias.” T: “woah, what’s with the attitude?”

Ruby groaned and feeling his presence closing in, already able to smell that subtle cologne radiating off of him. “Fuck he smells good….why does he always have to smell so good?!”

R: “I said go away Tobias. Leave me alone.” Tobias’s brows bunched up and crossed his arms across his broad chest. T: “what the fuck is your problem Ruby?” His tone grew stern just like his expression.

Ruby grew frustrated that he just wouldn’t go away and faced him with anger. R: “What fucking part do you not get of me telling you to go. The. Fuck. Away. Tobias. I am fucking exhausted I just went through a whole fight tonight, I didn’t want to come here to begin with but you and my fuck ass of a brother insisted on me showing face. And then I am here and I see you getting fucking chummy right in my fucking face. So please excuse me for wanting you the fuck out of my face.”

Tobias expression only hardened the more Ruby spat her angry words but when it got to the part of him interacting with another woman his brow raised. T: “Read Head?” He thought for a moment while Ruby just chuffed at him “unfuckingbelieble dude” T: “Bailey? married Bailey? who I was talking to about YOU with?.” T: “Is this what this is about? Why you are so fucking annoyed and causing a scene? Because of Bailey?”

Rubys lips parted ready to obliged realizing she read the situation all wrong but she was not going to say that to his face. but Tobias cut her off T: “it is isn’t it? You are fucking jealous. Go ahead fucking lie to me Ruby. Go ahead.” Tobias took his steps closer to her until he stood only a good foot infront of her.

Ruby huffed and tried to laugh it off R: “jealous? Me fucking jealous of what?! That fire hydrant? You have jokes now Tobias.” Tobias flicked her hat off her head and looked at a darting eyed Ruby.

T: “look at me Ruby. Look at me and tell me I am full of shit for thinking that. -he leaned in closer letting his breath tickle her hair, moving his hand to her waist to pull her close to him.- “I dare you. Because by the looks of it you’re jealous Ruby. just admit it.. you want me all to yourself. How selfish of you.”

Ruby felt her words build up in her throat, feeling the heat radiating off of him with that scent “that fucking scent” it was getting hard to think. Instead she kept deflecting. T: “say it…” he whispered into her ear, rubys breath hitched feeling herself falling into him as she felt her hair moved being moved off of her shoulder and lips hover along her skin. “Fuck….. I need to get away from him. Now or I wouldn’t be able to stop myself”

R: “Tobias no. I said leave me alone.” Her hand had moved to his chest pushing him away from her but he wouldn’t move away to far instead he came right back leaning into her lips. T: “you are fucking infuriating. You really have no idea the kind of power you have over me. It’s frustrating how you can torture me so easily, just as easy  it is for you to push me away.” “I.. I torture him?” (<- music for the full effect)

Their lips connected both letting out a needed sigh as if finally they were able to quench their desires. Easily Ruby found herself falling more into that lust that was Tobias. Letting out deep breaths when Tobias pulled away just enough to still feel her breath against his lips.

Previous - next

[kitseddie]

This Must Be The Place

Chapter 6: Life On Mars?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 7

(Eddie Munson X GN!Reader)

Summary: Eddie is a dumb idiot and doesn’t talk about his feelings. He should work on that.

W/C: 3.7K

Warnings: smoking, miscommunication

A/N: Eddie is a jealous baby and Steve is also a himbo who doesn’t connect dots super well. I know in reality that Steve would of probably mentioned a new neighbour to Eddie but I didn’t think about that when I wrote this ❤️ so leave me alone just enjoy the fluff okay????

“Hey honey, why don't you head down to that video store and find us something fun to watch?”. Your mother called from the living room, as you brought her and your stepdad a hot cup of coffee. A sigh escaped you, you wouldn't mind a nice movie night with your family but you didn't really want to run the risk of bumping into Eddie. Despite your short lived night of nostalgia, he’d still continued to be distant for the past week or two and you couldn't figure out why.

“Uh, I don't know if I'm up for driving Mom, I've had a long week”. She sighed looking a little disappointed and you started to feel an ache in your chest. Maybe you could put your insecurities behind you for enough time to rent out a couple of movies, besides you couldn't even be sure that he was working today.

You reached out and picked up your keys, as you watched her eyes light up. “Just a quick drive and no complaining about my picks, alright?”. She nodded and mimicked the zipping of her mouth as you smiled and headed out. The whole drive your legs felt like jello, why were you so damn nervous? You were acting like a child. When you pulled up you let out a deep breath, siking yourself up as you headed inside. The bell rang and you quickly noticed that the place was empty, you silently thanked the gods and started rushing around the family section for something to take home. When you were satisfied with your choices you stacked them on the counter, trying to avoid any small talk or eye contact.

“Oh nice, I actually rented this a couple of-”. You raised your head at the familiar voice, widening your eyes in shock. He paused mid-sentence and smiled at you, equally as surprised.

“Steve? You work here?”. He grinned, scratching the back of his neck, his cheeks blushing a little. He did a pretty good job at keeping that a secret until now.

“Uh yeah, kinda lame I know. But gotta pay for the beemer somehow.” You smirked at his awkwardness, you didn't have any issue about him working here. It was kinda sweet. He continued ringing you up when you chuckled and shook your head.

“I can't believe you never told me! I mean…a friend of mine actually works here too.” He raised his eyebrow, bagging up your videos.

“Oh yeah? Lemme guess, Robin?”. He gestured to the girl whose eyes were glued to the ground as she focused on not dropping the high stack of tapes she was holding. You chuckled, glad for her sake that she didn't notice you.

“No actually it's-”. Right on cue, he appeared. You sighed and relaxed your shoulders, your eyes meeting his. “Eddie.” You almost whispered, Steve was stunned as he turned to his coworker in confusion. Eddie didn't look very happy, but he hid it well enough to fool Steve.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He said weakly, looking between you and Steve. You smiled and stood there awkwardly, struggling to think of something to say. Robin followed the sound of your voices and stumbled out from the back room and onto an awkward interaction.

“I uh, I didn't know you guys worked together. I guess Hawkins is smaller than I thought”. Eddie still looked like he was on edge, walking a little closer to Steve.

“And how did you two get acquainted?”. You could sense the tension and it felt a little familiar, Eddie used to be super protective over guys you were seeing in middle school. He wanted to make sure you were in good hands. But he seemed to be getting it all wrong with Steve.

“He's my neighbour.” His eyes slowly turned back at you, slipping his hand from Steve’s shoulder. Robin was holding her breath, only now connecting the dots.

“Your neighbour”. He repeated, mainly to himself as he looked between you both coming to his own realisation. Steve nodded seemingly on edge, not understanding why Eddie was acting so defensive.

“Eddie, can we talk for a second? I mean, if that’s okay with you guys.” Steve nodded, handing you your tapes as the older boy followed you outside the back door. He immediately reached into his jacket pocket for a cigarette and took a drag. “When we were dropping off Max that night…you saw me, didn’t you?.” He was struggling to make eye contact, taking another long drag before finally looking over at you.

“Yeah, yeah I saw you. Saw you in Harrington's car days after moving here and I just…I don’t know I just got in my head about it.” You didn’t get it, didn’t get why he wouldn’t just speak up so you could talk it out. Why would he bottle up his emotions like this and just push you away? Why not be open and honest about it? What was he so afraid of?

“I get it, you’re protective and you’re worried about me and that’s so sweet Eds but I’m not a little kid anymore, you don’t have to look out for me.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head and rubbing his hand against his face.

“I’m always gonna look out for you, I’m always going to protect you. That’s my job.” God, he was so sweet, even sweeter than you remember. He threw his cigarette butt on the floor and ground it into the sidewalk with his boot. “As charming and deviously handsome as I am…sometimes I get a little…insecure. Totally on me though. Something for a future therapist to charge me $60 to talk about.” You shoved him and he chuckled, what he didn’t know was that this was not just on him. Because it was your job to look after him too.

“Or you could save the $60 and talk to me.” You reached out and grabbed his hand, stroking his knuckles gently as he started to relax. “Or you could just give me the $60, totally your call.” He smirked at that, rolling his eyes as he pulled you into a hug. You closed your eyes and squeezed him tight, you wished it could be like this. Always like this. Robin and Steve peeked their heads around the open door, catching a glimpse of the interaction.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t recognise them from the video store,” Robin muttered, shaking her head at his obliviousness.

“You were in the way!”. She rolled her eyes and stared back at him, her hands on her hips.

“Or in the movie theatre?”. He grew frustrated at the accusations, both you and Eddie watching them both bickering as you chuckled.

“It was dark! Come on, cut me some slack!”. Robin stormed off into the building, Steve following closely behind as you both giggled. He glanced down at you, getting a little lost in your eyes as he patted your shoulder.

“You should probably get home, kid, your mom will wonder where you’ve gotten to.” You nodded as he walked you back inside, you pulled Steve into an awkward hug over the counter and waved goodbye to Robin. He opened up the front door and you grinned, always the gentleman.

“What time do you get off work?”. He seemed surprised by your enthusiasm but glanced down at his watch to check the time.

“Like five. God, you’re not gonna make me study are you? You know Sunday is the day of rest”. You almost snorted, there's that playfulness you'd been missing. That old Munson charm.

“Oh God, no. I just… it's kind of lame but after going back to the trailer park with you, I've been feeling sort of homesick. I thought maybe I could stop by after you're home?”. His brown eyes gleamed against the sunlight, his head nodding gently.

“Stay by the phone, I'll call you when I'm home.” He smirked revealing a movie from behind his back. The Goonies. “On the house. Don’t tell Steve.” He whispered, as you crossed your heart and smirked. There was a small pause as you considered pecking his cheek, but backed out at the last second. Instead, you pulled him into another hug and said your goodbyes before climbing into your car, a smile clinging to your face the whole ride home. You were finally getting Eddie back.

You wandered into your house with a stupid grin on your face, swaying the bag of tapes back and forth and collapsing onto the sofa. Your mom and stepdad shared a knowing look raising their eyebrows at your new sunny disposition, you just glanced over to them and smiled finding it impossible to hide your grin. They didn’t even question it, telling you to pick a movie as you slid in the copy of The Goonies that Eddie had snuck into your hand before you left.

Halfway through the second movie, you heard the phone ring, rushing up to your feet and almost pulling a Robin in the process. With a deep breath and a cough you watched it ring a couple more times before finally picking it up. Can’t be too eager to answe. You muttered a casual hello, pretending you didn’t just almost sprain your ankle rushing to answer as you could almost hear his grin through the receiver.

“Heard this was a number for a good tutor, think you can squeeze me in?”. You snickered and rolled your eyes, he was so cheesy.

“Didn’t anyone tell you? Sunday is the day of rest”. Okay, so maybe cheesy was okay by you. This line earned you a chuckle, filling your chest with a new sense of pride. You heard a small meow coming from the background as you smirked thinking about his ringed fingers scratching behind the ears of the trailer park cats. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you had company”.

He huffed a laugh, clearly not expecting the phone to pick up her demands for food. “Yeah, we’re having dinner if you wanna join, how's dead rat sound?”. You scrunch your face in disgust as a shiver runs down your spine at the thought.

“Ah you know, I actually had dead rat for lunch”. He chuckled and you could sense him shaking his head, sighing dramatically down the line.

“A shame really.” You nervously twirled the chord with your finger waiting for him to invite you over. “I got a better idea for some food, come meet me in the woods by the trailer park.”

“Daunting pickup line, but I have no concern for personal safety so I’m in”. You noticed your mom and stepdad eavesdropping and trying to subtly crank their necks to see what you were up to. “I’ll be there in 5.” Oh right, the movie. Your mother’s eyebrows were cocked at an angle as you sat next to her and held her hand in between yours.

“It’s okay. It’s Eddie again, isn’t it?.” She knew without you even opening your mouth, you just nodded with a shy smile and she waved you off as you rushed upstairs to get changed into something warmer. You threw some essentials in your bag and wandered out to your car, kissing your family goodbye.

God, you were beaming, you didn’t know what the hell had gotten into you. These few weeks of distance and disinterest had been slowly eating away at you. It was becoming strangely clear that Eddie’s company was really important to you. You shook it off and pulled into the spot behind his van, noticing him perched on his doorstep having a smoke and giving chin scratches to his fluffy friend. When he lifted his head to meet your eyes his face morphed into a wide smile, it was comforting to know he was just as happy to see you.

“Didn’t know you had a lady over, hope I’m not interrupting”. You dropped your bag near the steps and sat in the empty spot next to him, watching her rub up against his leg and purr like a chainsaw. “Wow, she really likes you, got catnip in your pocket or something?”. He turned to face you with a look of shock, as you giggled.

“That’s cold. Is my alluring charm and selfless generosity not enough? You have to resort to asking if I have cat drugs in my pocket? I’m hurt.”He slapped a hand over his chest and tilted his head leaning closer as you rolled your eyes and shoved him.

He chuckled and tapped his knees before rising to his feet, offering his hand out to you. Your wide eyes stared up at him and grabbed it as he pulled you to your feet. He picked up your backpack and spun you around, pulling your arms through the straps before throwing his own around his shoulder.

“After you.” He held out his arm and gestured in front of you as you went ahead, trailing towards the woods.

The outstretch of land that started from the edge of the trailer park went on for miles, there were a few paved pathways but it hardly mattered since the ground was mostly flat anyway. It was springtime in Indiana, meaning there was still a touch of frost in the air, especially during the night. It wasn't even seven o’clock when you headed out and it had already started to get a little darker. The moon illuminated the sky through the thin layer of clouds, and the stars twinkled above you both as you shared a grin and headed deeper through the trees. Muddying up your sneakers as you stumbled through the dirt and leaves that stuck to your feet.

Eddie stopped and you almost slammed right into his back, as he rested his palms around his hips and turned around with a grin. It was still pretty dark so you pulled your flashlight from your backpack and shone it over the secluded area. Two large logs sat on each side of a pile of sticks, rocks carefully circling the circumference. Without a word, he laid out a blanket on one of the logs and patted the seat next to him. You sighed and joined him, blowing on your hands and rubbing them together feeling the nip of the crisp air. He pulled his lighter out of his pocket and held the flame to the sticks, watching it slowly start to burn as you smiled.

“This is usually the part of the movie where we get killed by the local legend who lives in the woods”. Eddie chuckled, reaching deeper into his bag and pulling out a cassette player.

“Yeah well, pretty sure bigfoot was last seen in Kentucky, so I think we’re safe.” You laughed but then started to get a little scared, I mean…bigfoot or not, weren't there bears in these woods? You did not come prepared for bears. “Close your eyes”. He demanded as you raised your eyebrows and he stared at you, waiting. You decided it was best not to argue so you did as he said, hearing the sounds of him rummaging through his bag.

“Okay.” He said almost under his breath as you took that as confirmation to open your eyes. “Voila!”. The floor was littered with snacks that upon further inspection happened to be ingredients.

“Marshmallows, chocolate and gram crackers…now if only we had-”. He cut you off, pulling two long wooden sticks from behind his back as you smiled widely. S’mores. “Eddie Munson, you sure know the way to my heart”.

“S’mores are the way to your heart? God, you're a cheap date”. You gasped and barged his shoulder with yours as he chuckled and pressed a marshmallow against the tip of the stick. He snapped a gram cracker in half and piled some chocolate in the middle, trapping the marshmallow in between both halves.

“Hold it at the bottom, alright?”. You nodded and grinned as it started to all melt together, your eyes were glued to the roaring flame as you pulled it back. You placed it on your lap to cool, as you mirrored what Eddie did for you but with his stick as you handed it back to him. He started to hold it over the flames as you pulled his hair over his shoulders so it wasn't close to the fire.

“I missed you.” You blurted, his head snapping back to look at you as he lost his grip and dropped his s’more in the fire. He muttered a ‘shit’ and backed away, watching it slowly melting over the sticks. With a deep sigh, he fell back against the log and held his head in his hands. You nudged him, his eyes glancing over as you handed him half of yours.

“I missed you more.” He smiled, staring back at you as you both took a bite and groaned in approval. Fuck, that was a good s’more. You high-fived and finished up as you noticed a bit of chocolate on Eddie’s cheek, you subconsciously licked your thumb and held his cheek to wipe it off as he immediately pushed you away. “Gross, I don’t want your spit on me! Personal space issues or what, Jesus”. It was a little too dark to see but you swore you saw his cheeks blush red.

You noticed in the corner of your eye the cassette player resting on the other side of him, hooked up to a pair of headphones. Leaning over you grabbed it before he could stop you, you’d got your own at home but you didn’t think to bring it considering only one of you could listen at a time. He watched you intently as you untangled the wire and he moved closer, gently placing the headphones over your ears. You stared back with doe eyes and smiled.

“There’s this song I wanted to show you, it’s not my usual sort of thing but I kinda like it.” He skipped through the mixtape and landed on the one he was looking for. He gently placed the player on your lap and waited to see your reaction. It started with some gentle piano and as soon the vocals kicked in you recognised the artist immediately. Bowie. Eddie likes Bowie. You closed your eyes as it kicked in and the wails of the guitar mixed with his voice made you feel like you were on another plane of existence. And during all this, Eddie was marvelling at you getting lost in the sound and wondering how someone could look so beautiful.

“God that was…awesome.” Your eyes met his, he never looked away not even for a second. He smirked and pulled them off your head, placing them back in his bag and shoving some more marshmallows on your sticks. “Thanks for bringing me out here, Eds. I think I’ve had so much going on with work that I forgot how stressful it is moving cities.”

“Nothing to thank me for sweetheart, like I said before I love hanging out with you. It’s cool to uh, get my best friend back…”. You shared a genuine smile between the two of you, as you just looked into the fire and listened to its faint crackle. As you watched the flames dance and the small remnants of ash float against the wind you started to think back to the memories you shared in these very woods.

You and Eddie were always inseparable, even from a young age. The woods were the perfect place for a couple of kids looking for an adventure, full of small caves made from giant rocks and gentle streams that ran throughout the area. Your family would always give you hell for coming home late, covered head to toe in dirt and bruises. You’d search for the tallest tree you could find and race to the top, picking a solid branch to rest on as you watched the sunset.

“Hey, pack your shit. I got an idea”. A curious look appeared on his face, packing up his bag and following closely behind you. If your memory serves you right, it wouldn’t be too far from here. It took about ten minutes of silent walking, glancing up at the tops of the trees before you found it.

“Where are we-“. Your arm stretched out to stop him in his tracks, staring at the sky and pointing above you. His eyes followed and he almost gasped. “No fucking way”.

Standing before you was a large oak tree, the trunk decorated with a now unstable set of ladders made from cheap pieces of plywood and secured with numerous rusty nails. It leads up to a small treehouse, with a shattered roof and no door, covered in dirt and moss. The wood was damp and split, with regular wear and tear as a result of the Indiana climate over the past decade. But it was once a house built on memories. Of laying against the floor, reading each other your favourite books and laughing at your own stupid jokes.

“I can’t believe it’s still here.” It needed some work, but the fact it was still standing after all this time was a miracle. Eddie went to open his mouth when your wristwatch started beeping, oh yeah, Monday tomorrow. “Fuck, I gotta head back home, up early and all. See at school?”. He nodded, placing a hand on your back before moving forward with you.

“Lemme walk you back, don’t want Bigfoot following you home.” He saw your unamused face and chuckled to himself.

“Not funny.” You threatened, his smile never shifting. And he did just that before you even realised you had circled back to your car. “Tell Wayne I'm sorry I missed him.”

“Don't worry, I'm sure you’ll be back again soon”. Your eyebrows rose at his confidence, squinting back at him as you unlocked your car door.

“That's pretty presumptuous of you, Munson.” He huffed out a laugh and pulled you into him, pressing your body against his chest. It came as sort of a shock, he was never the one to initiate the goodbye hug but it was actually kinda nice. So you relaxed and you hugged him back, holding him tight as the scent of cigarettes and cheap deodorant crept up your nose.

“Call me when you’re home safe, okay?”. He pulled away and held onto your arms until you nodded with a smile, he muttered another “okay?” as you muttered one back. And you felt it again, that weird and strong urge to kiss him goodbye that was met with a stronger feeling of anxiety and dread. So you hopped into the driver's seat and backed out of the trailer park, waving out the back window and watching him through your rearview. You’d be back soon.

Taglist: @honey-eyed-munson

[liminalpebble]

Violet: Chapter 20, The Visitation

Masterlist link

Minors DNI

Chapter 20: The Visitation

The group gathered around the brunch table the next day was a fairly cheerful one, despite a few hangovers, sleepy yawns, and the specter of Luke Garrett's threats. Katherine, the darling matron, declared over her omelet, “oh my goodness, my head! I always forget I'm not some resilient young debutante once the games begin and the punch goes around. I think I had a few too many.”

George Spencer, their guest for the day, regarded Mrs. Ambrose with the sweetest look of concern. He patted her shoulder and slyly passed her a packet of headache power, which she received gratefully, shaking it into her water. Violet chuckled, noticing the exchange.

“Oh George,” Violet said affectionately, “ever the knight in shining armor.”

The young doctor smiled and blushed at his friend's praise. “Just doing my job. It wouldn't do to let our dear Katherine suffer, especially with all the revelry yet ahead. Thank you, by the way, to all of you for your numerous invitations. Are you quite sure you wouldn't prefer it to be only family?”

Charles tutted. “Don't be silly George. You are family! You're always invited.”

“Unlike your housemate,” Jo huffed under her breath.

“Jo!” Will and Charles admonished, simultaneously, forks paused in mid-air. Although they both loathed Luke Garrett, they were sensitive to the fact that airing such grievances in company, to the man he lived with, might be unseemly.

George put up a hand as he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, hurrying to speak. “It's quite alright, Jo! We're all well-acquainted here, and it's no secret that he can be rather...eccentric and difficult.”

You mean 'cruel and abusive', George. When will you see it? And why can't you?, Violet thought to herself, sipping her tea and risking a quick and knowing glance towards Will, thanking him wordlessly for his comfort the night before, in the aftermath of Garrett's harm.

---

Violetta reflected on how she held Will's hand, guiding him to her bed. Even if it was just a few stolen moments, she wanted his offered embrace, his gentle nature, his caring hands cradling her. For his part he desperately craved the soft presence of her in his arms. He needed to smell her sweet violet perfume, feel the warmth of her snuggled against his broad chest.

Will had noticed the red chafing on her cheek, and carefully avoided grazing it as he asked, “What is this? Does it hurt?”

“Garrett grabbed my face and kissed me there, I scrubbed until I could no longer smell his vile stench, but I could swear I still feel it there...his horrible touch.”

Will gasped, “God, how awful! That disgusting man. May I kiss you there? Erase his touch with mine?”

“Please,” she begged in a quite whisper, welcoming his lips against her skin as they caressed the hurt away.

When he traveled back to her lips, she deepened their kisses quickly, hungrily, desperate for the comfort of him. “Remind me that I'm yours...that I'm safe,” she pleaded into his ear.

“My pleasure, darling. If I touch you, can you be quiet for me?'

She nodded, eager to be good for him. “Si, Padre...but I'm so tired. I can't return the favor.”

“It's not a favor, Bella. I want to feel you,” he purred, running his hand up her thigh, grasping between her legs until he was cradling her mound, feeling its warmth and arousal. She pulled his face to hers as he slid his fingers inside of her. Violetta poured her quiet moans into the soft flesh of Will's mouth so he might trap them for himself, within himself. They were his, all his, and the ears of the rest of the world would never hear them. Their richly-laden silence; their secret.

“I love how you feel around me...inviting me inside...so open to me,” he purred out in a breathy growl, as he slid her nightgown down her shoulders, exposing her breasts. He kissed gently down her throat, more cautious this time about leaving marks. The parson closed his eyes; sensing her by scent, by feel, by the warmth and topography of her skin which he was beginning to know so well. He sensed his way to her breast like this, mouthing at it eagerly while her back arched towards him. Beneath the tender flesh he could feel the robust pulse of her heart reaching out to him.

Her breath moved more quickly, beginning to hitch and sigh, playing a melody over the percussion of her heartbeat. He pushed his palm harder against her mound, flicking his wrist to pulse and push deeper where she was warm and thick and sweet like honey swirling around his fingers. She beginning to tremble. As his thumb massaged her clit he clasped his free hand over her mouth, just as he had that first time. The thought made him open his eyes again, desperate to see the masterpiece redrawn, this time in the moonlight; eyelashes flickering, hair strewn and glossy like a cascade of raven feathers, bare shoulders and breasts kissed by the blue glow. “Magnificent” he pronounced, in awe.

As her breathing stilled her eyes grew heavy. She kissed him lazily, savoring the sight and sensation of him in the faint lunar light before the fog of dreams would find her. Will was slow to remove his touch from within her, relishing the feeling of her heartbeat entrusted in the palm of his hand, the all-encompassing intimacy of her offering, her soft submission to him. Reluctantly, he separated from her as she drifted off to sleep, kissing her flushed cheeks and forehead, as he eased off the bed.

In her sleep she whimpered and reached for his hand instinctively. “Stay...” she mumbled. The beckoning graze of her fingers hooking around his was so sweet, so innocently pining, that it melted his heart and left him powerless to resist. Will knew he couldn't stand to leave her yet, so he settled back in. Draping an arm around her waist, he curled her body against his and kept watch over this fierce and wondrous creature in her most vulnerable state.

“Alright darling,” he whispered into her ear as he stroked her tussled hair way from it. “But just for a little while.”

'A little while' became much longer. He lost all sense of time, simply feeling her breathe against him. He couldn't bring himself to go until the approaching hints of morning forced him from her bed to sneak back down the hallway.

---

Will sipped a bit more of his coffee, grinning slightly at the fond remembrance. He would need a few cups today to be of much use to anyone, but a groggy few hours in the daylight were worth the moonlit ones he had with her.

As Violetta busied herself with helping the maids clear the table, the older couple took George aside to inform him of exactly what his friend and colleague had threatened their young charge with. “Can you believe it! Spreading rumors about her medical examination. Saying some woman had covered her with love bites! True or not, it's none of his business to speak of it. Lord knows we were all young once and up to mischief, I certainly was, but that gives him no right! He should lose his practice, George!”

George's face flushed a hot deep pink as skewers of guilt and panic burrowed into him. He felt horrible, realizing that Garrett must have half-heard the part of the exam he had conducted. His guilt turned to irate indignation when he thought of how low his friend...the friend he trusted, the friend he loved...had stooped in his avarice. Spencer's warm hazel eyes darted around in distress as he said, “Par..pardon me. I must see to Violet. Assure her...dear God. What a horrible thing to do!” They nodded as he hurried over, catching Violet as she dried her hands. Will observed warily (though he tried not to eavesdrop) as the three spoke and then as the young doctor set an arm gently on Violet's shoulder guiding her into the library.

He gulped nervously, finally pulling his eyes away from the closed library doorway where they had disappeared. The vicar forced a smile as he turned his attention back to his gleeful grandson, bouncing on his knee. This gave him some comfort, easing the tight cord of anxiety and the cold sting of jealousy. Patience; if God was teaching him any lesson by giving him this beautiful, fraught love, it was patience. Will had always considered himself a patient man, but he was quickly realizing that he barely knew the meaning and extent of the word after the trials of the last few months. He twitched with surprise, summoned out of his rumination by the feeling of Jo's long, cool fingers curling around his hand.

“Papa,” she said, meeting his blue eyes with her identical ones, “it'll be okay.”

“Wh...what do you mean, darling?” he asked, trying to feign ignorance.

Jo offered a gracious, knowing expression, freckled cheeks rising into a grin.

Will slowly exhaled. “Is it that obvious?”

Jo chuckled. “No...no. Not at all. Don't worry. But I can tell.”

“You always were like your mother that way.”

Jo nodded, a bittersweet nostalgia written across her face.

“Are...are you upset with me, Jo?”

She smiled broadly. “Upset? No, Papa! I'm thrilled...well, also surprised, and concerned about the practical side of things. But mostly I'm happy that you're finally happy again. It's nice to see some life in you.”

He smiled. “My sweet daughter, wise and kind as Queen Esther. I'm lucky to have you...but...please...”

“I know. I won't breathe a word.”

“Do you like her?” he asked tentatively.

“I adore her,” she answered sincerely. He released the breath he had been anxiously holding and they both beamed, holding hands.

“So do I,” he admitted with a shy smile.

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