#oh mutuals you know it’s comin

[clingyduoapologist]

Chargin up that super boop like

[formulawolff]

"keep 'em comin'" - m.v.

pairing: girl best friend!reader x max verstappen

word count: 2.3k

warnings: alcohol consumption, light marijuana usage, cussing, max munching on some cooter! (that will come later in the fic), enemies to friends to lovers, typical men behavior (being creepy in a bar), mentions of physical threats, kelly slander, THINGS ARE MESSY BETWEEN KELLY AND MAX (so if y'all don't like light infidelity/gray areas then don't read) yadayadayada (y'all already know the vibes)

a/n: hellllloooo! <3 this is my first time writing for max so if this isn't quite like him, i apologize in advance. this fic is based off of a request and i had to write about it since i've been feral for max (he finally took off that damned cap!) this may end up as a two or three part series. we'll see, we'll see!

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

"i see the decrepit hag decided to let you out of her clutches tonight. congratulations for being able to be out and about in public without her breathing down your neck!"

the figure standing to your left scoffs, muttering a few incoherent words under his breath. he slides into the booth, propping his chin up with a hand. the other finds the glistening glass, a bead of condensation rolling down, pooling onto the rigid table.

"about that."

"what about it?" you arch a brow, lips connecting with the rim of your own drink, "max, did something happen before you left?"

he shrugs, brows pinching together as he sips on his mixed drink, a decadent yet smooth concoction of his favorite liquors blended together, "it's nothing serious."

"max," setting your glass down, you lean forward ever so slightly, his name louder than normal over the overwhelming mixture of voices and volume, "what. happened."

"oh you know," he waves a hand, careful not to meet your piercing gaze, "she's upset that i was going out to see you. that's all."

the moment max mentioned her, you knew exactly who she was.

she was kelly piquet. max verstappen's beloved wag. the woman who scooped him up the moment that clock struck midnight on his eighteenth birthday.

the woman you loathed more than anyone in the world.

but you wouldn't tell max that.

after all, you couldn't. the pair had been dating for quite some time. and although max wouldn't say it outright, you were well aware that she was not going anywhere anytime soon.

no matter how much the two fought. no matter how much she wanted to make your relationship with max as strained as possible.

your friendship with max had a rocky start. tumultuous, even. the two of you met when you were both seventeen, as your parents were mutual friends. since max was involved in racing, and you aimed to pursue professional photography, max's father suggested that the two of you get to know one another.

of course, at that time, the last thing teenage max wanted was some nerdy girl following him around. especially when there were other teenage boys involved. cool teenage boys who enjoyed to fuck around with fast machinery.

he teased you relentlessly, tormenting you whenever he could. he ridiculed your photographic abilities, scorning the prints or slideshows you provided. often times, he stated that your pictures were, "absolute shit" and your clip compilations "were not going to get you anywhere in formula one."

of course, you matched his energy. after all, you weren't going to take anyone's shit. you knew you had to advocate for yourself. you weren't going to make it in the industry if you weren't assertive.

eventually, your snapshots landed you a job at red bull. well, max did have a part to play in that.

after a couple of years, the dutch driver apologized for the way he treated you at the time, requesting a truce. the truce would consist of you sticking around as his personal media manager.

in turn, he would promote your work to the world of formula one and assist you in your way up the ladder in any way he could. he would land your sponsorships. he would chip in some cash here and there to get you more advanced software or equipment.

the only stipulation was that you had to follow him.

everywhere and anywhere he went. every event. every interview. every grand prix.

no. matter. what.

of course, with the stakes involved, you knew it was too good of a deal to refuse. with max's rise to prominence in formula one, you knew it was now or never.

so, you accepted his offer.

oh jos verstappen, what a bastard you were.

cause now, here you were in vegas, sitting across from the man you loved. well, the man you were in love with.

hopelessly and utterly in love with.

"that isn't unusual for her," you scoff, hands reaching for your purse, "i do have something that could lighten the mood!"

"and that is?" max's gaze follows your hand, making note of the delicately wrapped joint between your fingers.

"my friend mary jane!"

"you of all people know i shouldn't be smoking," the dutch driver shakes his head, yet proceeds to scoot out of the booth anyway, "i'll still come out there with you. i won't be taking any hits though."

"yeah, yeah," you wave a hand, "that's what they all say."

as you slip out of the booth, you feel max's hand connect with your lower back, almost guiding you through the throng of locals. a few of them chirp greetings to max, others chattering, creating a buzz within the air.

well, there went any sort of anonymity.

so much for keeping a low profile for the weekend.

yet, when in vegas, that was almost impossible to maintain. especially when you were a man of max's caliber.

the two of you manage to slip out, just before fans started asking for autographs. of course, max obliged to a few, signing a cap here and an arm there.

even though it was quickly approaching december, the air was mild, dipping in the low fifties. max hovers to your right, shuddering as a breeze rolls through. you curse as it quenches your flame, motioning for max to stand closer.

"can you shield me for a moment, pretty boy?"

"pretty boy?"

from the way the words tumbled from his mouth, max seemingly was not to keen to the idea of being referred to as pretty boy. yet, he inches even closer to you, providing a barrier as the lighter comes to life, igniting your delicate pre-roll.

"what else should i call you?" shrugging, you exhale, the smoke billowing into the night, "or do you prefer world champion?"

"how much did you have to drink before i got here?" the dutch driver cocks his head, his stare almost picking you apart.

"enough," you respond, lips curling into a devious grin, "don't act like you didn't like that."

"i did," he counters, "that's the issue here."

"and why is that an issue?"

"because we used to fucking despise one another. we used to tear one another apart. and now here i am, going out for drinks with you when i shouldn't be. here i am, looking forward to your texts or your snaps when i know i should be thinking about someone else.

fuck, even when i'm with her, my mind wanders to you. we're together all of the fucking time yet i crave you. i miss you when we're apart. what are you doing to me?"

before your mind can even formulate a coherent response, an individual saunters up to the two of you, drinks in hand.

it's an older man, approximately in his early or mid fifties. he's balding, as a few of the greasy hairs were poorly combed over. he was well dressed, but poorly groomed, as there was quite the scruff plaguing his feautures.

"good evening," his words are directed towards you, yet you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes were fixated on your joint, "i was wondering if the pretty lady could exchange a hit or two for a-"

"she's not accepting shit from you," max's voice is low, the driver taking another half step toward you, almost to shield you even further.

"c'mon man," the man drawls, the words slurred, "i wasn't fucking speakin' to ya. i was talkin' to her."

"and i'm talking to you," max's jaw clenches, "get the fuck out of here."

"and you are?" the man arches a brow, "surely not her boyfriend."

"actually i am," the words are forced through gritted teeth, the driver's fists clenched to his sides, "i'm her fiancé. i suggest you leave before i-"

"got it," the man exhales, rolling his eyes, "it was worth a shot. what the fuck ever man."

as he turns to head back towards the bar, you feel fingers find yours, intertwining together. max squeezes your hand gently, "are you okay?"

"fiancé?" relief ripples as you notice his demeanor crumble, "what was that all about? were you manifesting something or-"

"come on," max tugs at your hand, "let's go to another place. get a few more drinks. keep 'em comin'. keep the alcohol flowin', you know?"

"max," clicking your tongue, you frown as your realize your joint was burnt out, "what is going on between you and kelly?"

"i don't want to talk about her right now," the driver won't even look at you, keeping his focus on the glow and ambiance of the city, "we can talk about anything else but her. please. i don't even want to think about her right now. shouldn't you be relieved? why aren't you relieved?"

"because you look stressed the fuck out!" you retort, "and it stresses me out because i love you and i can't handle seeing you all bummed about some hag who is only using you!"

max freezes, your hand flying up to your mouth. heat floods your cheeks, heart thudding against your rib-cage as you realize what just came pouring from your mouth.

"did you just tell me that you love me?"

his voice is soft. dangerously low. merely a whisper, barely audible over the bustling noise of vegas.

tears well up, shame setting your body ablaze as you nod, biting your lower lip, "y-yeah. and i know i shouldn't-"

"shut the fuck up," hands meet with your cheeks, bringing you in close, "just shut the fuck up and come here."

in that moment, max's mouth finds yours. the kiss is tender, brimmed with nothing but passion, breathing life back into your lungs. it was grounding yet exhilarating, waves of euphoria crashing over.

he pulls away, forehead brushing against yours, "why haven't i done this sooner?"

"because kelly-"

"i don't give a fuck about kelly right now."

"give a fuck about me then," you murmur against his mouth, relishing the way his hands explore, roaming along your back, trailing down to your ass, "you think we should take this somewhere more private? before someone snaps a photo of max verstappen making out with his media manager?"

"that's a good idea," he nods, "i'll arrange an uber."

although it was merely minutes in the time it took between getting into the uber and making it to your hotel room, it felt like an eternity. yet, with the way max's hand gripped your thigh the entire drive, you didn't complain. the other hand held onto yours, pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles.

if only this was your everyday life.

if only things were different.

if only he fell in love with you first.

once the two of you were in the elevator, he maintained his composure, as there were other people stepping in and out. there was even a little boy, in awe that his favorite driver was staying in the same hotel as him. max was kind enough to gift him one of his beaded bracelets, a small memento from a win during the 2022 season.

if only that child knew what his favorite driver was really up to.

once that light on your keypad flashed green, his mouth was on yours, tongue gliding along your lower lip, practically begging for access. his hands were all over, tugging on your clothes, desperate to see what was underneath.

"fuck," there's a rumble in his chest as he lays on you on the bed, pinning you to the mattress.

"what?" you can't help but wriggle a little, slightly flustered by the intensity of his gaze.

"you have no idea how much i've thought about this," a dusty rose hue tinges his cheeks, "i-i almost don't know what to do now. i've thought about it so frequently that i had it down to every little detail. and now i have you here, right where i want you but i feel like i'm going to fuck this up and-"

"max," tender fingers sweep locks of hair from his forehead, "do what you feel is right."

"i just want to show you how much i love you. i need you to know how loved you are."

"i think i have an idea," the tip of your nose brushes against his, "is there anything i can do to help?"

"will you let me taste you?"

instinctively, your hips buck forward, legs spreading so that he can have access. you can feel his cock stiffen in his pants, pressing against your inner thigh, aching for some sort of relief.

"yes," you nod, "you can taste me."

"f-fuck," his jaw nearly goes slack as you guide his hand through the waistband of your panties, the pad of his index finger circling your clit, "you're this wet for me? already? my poor baby. all soaked and desperate for me."

"m-max," the way his name falls from your lips is intoxicating, "i need you."

"are you sure this is okay?" he pauses, eyes meeting with yours, "if at any moment you need me to stop, just tell me."

"you are more than okay. i promise."

fingers delicately unbutton your jeans, rolling them down your legs. in the process, you peel off your hoodie and shirt, tossing them to the floor.

just the mere sight of you half-dressed had him coming undone, his inhibitions slipping away by the second. fuck, you were so stunning. someone who deserved to be worshipped and cherished.

far more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.

situating himself between your legs, max's mouth roams, placing wet kisses all over your inner thighs, hips, and abdomen. his tongue flattens against your heated core, savoring the way you squirmed under his touch.

"you need me to taste you baby?" he coos, cocking his head.

"yes," you plead, skin hot to the touch, your clit engorged, folds slick with juices.

"hmmm," he hums, hands grasping your thighs to spread you open further.

"once i get these off of you, you're all mine. and only mine. got that?"

yet, there was one thing that happened to slip max verstappen's mind that night in vegas.

well, one woman.

the woman he referred to as his girlfriend, but the woman he was not in love with.

kelly piquet.

[madhattervanessa]

Crush

Summary: Your hot neighbor, Simon Riley, has returned from abroad again and this time, you decide to be brave and confess your feelings to him.

Warnings: Porn WITH Plot I guess lmao, some spanking, hair pulling, but nothing actually heavy, mutual masturbation, nipple play, fingering, p in v, creampie

Words: 3698

Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

next Part

-

It’s absolutely stupid.

You twiddle your thumbs before planting both hands on the counter again.

Stupid.

Crushing on your neighbor? Forgivable.

Crushing on a hulking man like that, with those soft brown eyes, his stupidly beautiful blonde lashes around them, his deep baritone, his strong hands-

Totally forgivable.

Crushing on a military man who is barely home and barely talks to you?

That should be where the line starts.

Still.

Your cheeks warm immediately when you hear the familiar heavy footsteps coming down the hall towards your door.

Maybe the note had been stupid.

Oh god.

What if he thought it was stupid?

The knock on your door doesn’t leave you much room to think.

You do know him. So this shouldn’t be too awkward.

It’s just Simon.

So, you open the door, chin already tilted up to adjust to his height.

“Hello, love.”

“Hi”, you breathe out, already nervous.

“You mind if I come in?”

You step aside for him, eyes never leaving him as he gets inside.

He mutters a thanks, slowly making his way inside. When you shut the apartment door, he is already turning towards you.

“I-”, he starts and you look down to the scar splitting his lip when he licks over it. “-I didn’t know you uh-” he furrows his brows before starting over. “I like you like that as well.” He scratches the back of his neck and meets your eyes again. “Bloody childish way to say that, huh?”

You smile at him, suddenly feeling very warm and gooey inside, at the sight of this intimidating man looking like a boy talking to his school crush.

“I did leave a note so- I guess we’re kinda even on that.”

“Right.” He sighs.

“So… Coffee?”

“Yeah, that would be nice, I- I brought those croissants you like.”

“So you were coming to confess anyways?”, you tease. You win a little chuckle.

“Just a thank you for keeping the landlord off my ass, love.”

You hum and watch as he opens the door again.

“You comin’, then?”

“Yeah, just, one second. I got a new roast at the shop that you will like.”

“Alright. I’ll leave the door open.”

“Okay.”

-

He is looming over you as you switch out the beans in his grinder before you pull the espresso shots for your coffees.

“You alright?”, you murmur, not looking up as you fill the metal pitcher with milk.

“Yeah. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“I know you can handle a broken bone with a smile, Simon. The bar is in hell.”

He huffs. You glance at him to find him leaning against the corner of the kitchen counter, still watching you intently.

“So it is.”

You steam the milk for his latte in comfortable silence.

“Why me?”

You smile and set the pitcher down, briefly knocking some air out of the foam before you continue assembling your drinks.

You can hear the rest of the question he has in his head.

It’s not that Simon is a particularly nice man, nor was he in town for long since he had moved into the building 2 years ago.

“I’m pretty self-sufficient, you know.”

You’re met with silence again. He is watching your hands as you pour pretty patterns into the coffee.

“I like spending time with you when you’re here. I miss you when you leave.” You shrug, keeping your question of, is that not enough? to yourself.

“You know I’m not…” A good man. Enough. Loveable. Able to love anyone.

You’d heard the line often, especially on the veteran’s evenings in the small community you had amassed.

You just hum and turn around. You blow over the hot coffee in your hands and take a first sip.

Your eyes meet his again and just like with the grumpy, scared cat in the alley a street over, you blink slowly, trying to communicate that this is enough, it’s okay.

He pushes off the counter and carefully takes the cup out of your hands. He holds onto one of them as he sets the cup down on the counter behind you.

You are holding your breath, startled and hopeful as he stares down at you.

You don’t dare blink as he leans in closer, and just barely tilt your chin up to his. His hand feels clammy as it holds onto yours.

Your eyes close and you wait, your heartbeat quick in your chest as you feel his breath on your mouth.

Soft, dry lips meet yours in a peck, a shy press of lips against lips.

You inhale shakily through your nose and grip his hand harder as you pull back a little. 

You wet your lips and carefully sneak another look.

Simon’s eyes are still closed and you watch, transfixed, as he rolls his lips, as if to taste you again, before he opens his eyes, too.

You grab his shirt and tug, silently demanding another.

He hums and dips his head for another kiss, this one more insistent.

You let your tongue lick over his lip. It makes him grunt and pull at you, forcing you on your tiptoes as you keep kissing, slowly working each other’s mouths open in an unhurried exchange.

When you part, you can feel your heart in your throat.

He’s pretty. 

His thin lips are slick and shiny with your combined spit, his brows slightly furrowed as he looks at you.

“Can we fuck?”

You bite your lip at him, waiting for his answer as you watch the words wash over him. There’s just a minimal pulse of his pupils and a barely-there intake of breath.

“Thought I was going to take you out a few times, first.”

“I think the brunches and buying me coffee counts.”

“Tha’s different, love.”

“Is it?”

You fiddle with the hem of his shirt, still looking at him.

He doesn’t answer, just keeps looking.

“So, that’s a definite no?”, you murmur. He takes a deep breath.

“Let me ease into it.”

You smile at him and nod.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

His gaze lowers to your lips. 

You stop yourself from leaning up towards him, simply tilting your chin up a little. 

You wait for him to close the gap.

You don’t have to wait long.

He bumps into your chest with his, his head tilted as he kisses you again, carefully pecking at your lips with his, once, twice, then three times, before he licks your bottom lip.

The pressure makes you walk back a little until you bump against the kitchen counter.

His hand that has been holding yours moves to hold on to your hip instead. His other is moving your face to his liking. You let yourself be guided, losing yourself in the sensual kiss you share, the movement of your tongues against each other.

You let the hand that was holding on to his shirt wander up, over his hard stomach to his chest, until you reach his neck. You gently hold on to him, struggling to breathe before he finally pulls back again.

You’re panting slightly as you open your eyes again.

He groans, closing his eyes again and pushing his forehead to rest against yours.

“Fuck”, he murmurs, his nose nudging against yours, lips brushing slightly before he puts a little distance between the two of you.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Feels like you’re testing me.”

“I’m not. Just… letting you go as far as you like. I just-” You exhale shakily, looking at him, again. “I just want to be close to you, Simon.”

He nods and bends towards you to kiss you again. His hands wander down to your thighs. You gasp into his mouth as he lifts you onto the counter.

He steps forward, between your legs, before pulling you flush to him. You can feel him straining against his jeans, his hard cock pressing offensively against your sweatpant-covered center.

“Close ‘nough?”, he murmurs against your lips and you hum out a soft sound. You let your feet tangle behind his legs, urging him closer until he presses up hard against your clit.

“Mhm”, you moan. He looks at you, his breath stopped, before kissing you again- this time he’s rougher and the way his hips move up against you has you moaning into his mouth.

“I want you”, he groans, grinding his cock into you a little harder. “Want to do right by you.”

“Shut-”

He kisses you, again, silencing your protests. His hands are holding your hips, helping him grind against you. You are fisting the collar of his shirt, tugging him towards you as you nip at his bottom lip with your teeth.

He grunts and there’s an aborted moan that slips from his mouth into yours.

You grin and go to do it again but he holds you back by your throat, a gentle but warning touch. It makes you look up at him, mouth still open with a smile stretching your cheeks.

“Careful.”

“Or what?”

“You don’t want to get into a game of escalation with me, lovie”, he rumbles, his hand dropping. His thumb rasps over the seam of your pants and you gasp into his mouth.

“Don’t want to escalate just- mhn- just want you to stop treating me like glass, Simon.”

He hums and presses another short kiss to your lips before pushing his thumb down against your clit. 

“‘m treating you like something precious, love, not like glass.” He watches, eyelids low as you strain against him, already dizzy with the pleasure shooting up your spine from watching him rut against your thigh while he slowly pleasures you through your thin sweatpants. 

“I know you’re a tough birdie. Don’t ‘ave to prove it to me.”

“Don’t have to prove anything to me, either”, you challenge. 

He grunts wordlessly before pulling you forward again, your ass almost slipping off of the counter. You hold on to his shoulders in shock as the room spins around you. 

“Bedroom”, he just murmurs and you nod before cradling his head, and kissing him.

He only drops you when you have finally arrived in his bedroom.

It’s an awkward scramble once he has set you down. 

You’ve just flung your panties off when he is on you again, his stubbled face rubbing against your chest. He scratches his teeth over your skin, following it up with a lick over it. He is smearing the width of his tongue up over your breast until he reaches your jaw. The filthy gesture makes you gasp.

He tastes the sound with his mouth, leaning down into you, his hands on the headboard behind you. You have to hook your legs over his thighs to make room for the hulking man.

He blocks out the window behind him and you can’t help but stare at him as he licks his lips before spitting in his hand. You follow his hand down to his cock and swallow hard as you watch him stroke himself, coating himself with spit.

“Want you to touch yourself”, he whispers, so quiet, yoou almost don’t hear him.

He tugs your hand down to his mouth. He doesn’t look away from your eyes as he pushes two of your fingers inside his mouth, then guides them down to lay atop your pussy.

“Show me what you like.”

Your gaze drops down to his cock and you start rubbing your clit without a single thought. He watches intently and you see his hand squeeze a little tighter around his cock.

“Simon.” 

“Yeah?”

“I want you to play with my tits”, you breathe out.

“Fuck.” He stops stroking himself, immediately. “You want me to suck on your pretty tits, love? Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He leans in and licks at your nipple, his other, still slick hand, roughly grabs the other to let your nipple roll under his thumb. Your eyes roll back at the feeling.

It’s perfect. 

You slide two of your fingers inside of your pussy and Simon does something magnificent with his tongue on your breast. It makes you cum- quick and easy. Simon stays right where he is, continuing to lick and suck at your nipples as you whine and ride out your orgasm.

You jump when one of his broad thumbs nudges against your clit.

“Simon-!”

“I want to see you cum again”, he groans. You barely lift your hand away from your pussy when he speaks up again. “Put your fingers back inside your wet little pussy.”

“Si-”

He groans and there’s that glint in his eye, like the one you saw when you bit his lip in the kitchen.

“Simon, I want you to fuck me, please.”

He lifts his thumb to his mouth, sucking your slick off of it.

You reach out to stroke his cock and he makes a small sound as you stroke him with your slick hand.

He presses closer. You guide his cock until the tip of it nudges your pussy.

“Wait, are you- don't we need a condom?”

“I have an IUD and I got tested last month, it’s fine”, you whisper.

You know Simon doesn’t fool around when he is away but he says it anyway.

“I want you to fuck me bare, Simon. Want you to come inside of me”, you add, your hand still stroking him.

He groans again and his hips rock forward. You gasp as he leans forward, covering you with his body. He moves you, angling your hips up before he pushes another inch inside. 

His lips swallow your moan.

He is big- you saw, but now that he is pushing his hard cock inside of you, you feel like he is splitting you apart. 

He stops halfway and you release a breath into the small space between your mouths. He gently strokes your hip and nudges his nose against yours before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Alright?”

“Yeah.”

He rocks his hips back and forth, slowly pushing another few inches into you. It makes you gasp into his ear- the sound results in a strong thrust that rocks you up the mattress.

“Fuck, Simon-”

You look down to where he is fucking into you, hypnotized as he stops about halfway, every time.

He sits back, his eyes trained on you as he fucks into you a little harder. His hands wander over the sides of your body until he stops at your hips. He pulls you into his thrusts, fucking you hard but slow. It makes you mewl and you blush at the unfamiliar sound escaping you.

“Simon”, you whimper and he furrows his brow. “Come here”, you sigh.

He wraps his body around you, using his other arm to pull you closer. It pushes your tits up into reach for his mouth. You whimper and arch into him more as he greedily licks at your nipple again, repeating what he had done earlier.

He folds you up further until your thighs are completely resting on his waist, his legs basically underneath your ass. It makes him stroke against something delicious inside of you. You don’t even get to say anything before you’re already coming again.

And then, he starts to fuck you. It’s a chaotic shift, the way he suddenly starts using his grip on your hips as a counterweight to thrust into you, mercilessly giving you the rest of his cock.

You can hear how wet your pussy is and the way it parts for Simon as he fucks into you. The wet, rhythmic squelch seems embarrassingly loud in the room.

“Fuck, love- feel so good-”

You hear the sounds coming from your mouth as if they weren’t your own- hoarse, high-pitched mewls, breathy uh-uh-uh’s, as he ruts into you. When you clamp down on the meat of his shoulders with your nails, you hear him groan.

“That’s it-”

You’re overstimulated at this point but the friction is making you see stars in the best way. When Simon slows down, you sob with relief.

“Made a right mess, didn’t you, love”, he breathes, his own breathing barely stunted while yours is ragged. When he leans back, you open your eyes only to find your legs shaking without his waist to cling onto.

He ushers you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

You grumble, barely any strength in your body left to keep it tensed enough to follow him.

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, your nose pressed into his neck.

“You need to come-”, you slur.

“‘m letting you catch your breath first. Y’alright?”

“Yeah. Great, actually.”

He hums, obviously not believing you, and the suspicious sound makes you giggle.

You let your hands wander, admiring the broad plane of his chest, the scars crossing it.

He tilts your chin up to his again. His kiss is gentle, barely making your lips part. You can feel one of his hands stroking down your back until he can grasp one of your asscheeks in his hand, kneading the soft skin as he keeps kissing you. You gasp and bite at his bottom lip, smiling as you wait for his reaction- only for a loud smack to reverberate through the room. Your ass burns from his hand and you groan, pushing your forehead against his as you grind your cunt against his cock.

“You like that?”

“Yeah”, you breathe, chest already heaving from the excitement of making Simon use his strength against you. “, do it again.”

He growls and kisses you, his broad palm rubbing over your reddened ass cheek before smacking it again. You gasp into his mouth and lean in closer, rubbing your tits against his chest. Your whole body suddenly feels restless, your cunt rubbing up against his cock while your hands roam over his body, feeling up his arms, his shoulders, his chest.

Simon bodily hauls you up and pushes his cock inside you again. Your legs shake as you try to control how quickly you sink down on him. 

Another smack to your skin makes you whimper and collapse onto him, his cock bottoming out inside of you. He grabs your thighs and you barely manage to lift yourself enough to start to ride his cock.

The sound Simon whimpers into your mouth as you roll your hips is worth ignoring the growing soreness in your muscles. 

“Fuck, that feels good”, he groans. It makes liquid heat shoot through you and you double your efforts, folding your legs over his thighs. Your eyes snap open as he rests his forehead against your collarbone, his hands losing their tight grip on you.

You reach up to cup the back of his head, fisting his hair as you try to concentrate on setting a good rhythm for him. But the way his cock fills you out is starting to make you quiver, the pleasure already mounting up to being overstimulating again.

You’re gasping into each other’s open mouths as you ride him. 

You can feel him tightening his grip on you before he starts to meet your thrusts, effectively bouncing you up and down in his lap. It makes you shake, the angle hitting something disastrous. 

“Fuck, Simon- I can’t- I’m going to cum- a-again”, you whimper. It makes him moan into your mouth and you stutter in your motion as you feel him get even harder, his thrusts short, aborted. You mewl at the feeling and dig your nails into his scalp and his shoulder.

He growls and sinks his teeth into the skin of your breast as he cums. You clench around them and feel a few tears slip over your cheeks as the last few thrusts make you cum one final time.

You collapse into each other and you let your lips brush over his temple before resting your head on his shoulder again.

He is gently stroking your back, not even minding the sweat clinging to your skin.

When he wraps his other arm around your hip and lifts the two of you, you just sigh into his skin. He gently lays you down on his bed.

“Going to be right back, love,” he murmurs before pressing a kiss against your temple. You just sigh and nod.

As soon as he isn’t covering your body anymore, you can feel yourself shivering from the sudden cold. You huff before grabbing the comforter to cover yourself. The faint sound of a window cracking open makes you bury even deeper into the blankets.

“Hey. Eyes open for me”, he grumbles and you startle awake with a confused “huh?”. 

Simon is sitting on the bed, holding out a glass.

“Drink something.”

You groan and bat at his hand but he just wraps it around the cool bottle of water.

“Brat”, he murmurs and you open one eye to glare at him before popping the lid open and gulping down some water. After handing him the leftovers, you watch as he immediately downs it all in one go. He sets the bottle down on the nightstand and just looks at you for a moment.

“Come on. Gotta go shower.”

You close your eye again.

“I’m cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm. Come on. Up.”

You go willingly into his arms.

He is still naked, still warm, and you sigh as you get up into his warm embrace. You stumble towards the shower together. He makes you check the temperature and adjusts it until it’s boiling hot and just to your liking.

When you return from your shower, the afternoon sun bathes the bedroom in warm light.

“You still want your coffee and croissant? Or d’you want to take a nap first, princess?”

You grab the shirt he'd discarded and throw it on before turning towards him.

“Maybe we can… do coffee and croissants on your couch?”

“Yeah, alright. You mind if we catch up on some shows I've missed out on?”

“I’ll probably fall asleep.”

“Alright love”, he murmurs, before pressing another kiss to your temple and wrapping his arm around your waist to lead you towards the couch. Halfway there, he just picks you up bridal style, letting your snuggle into his shoulder while he presses another kiss to your forehead.

-

Thanks for reading!

Requests are open and always appreciated

[babysukiii]

the rooms are all on fire (every time that you walk in)

// melissa has a thing for her new neighbor, but she refuses to let it go too far because of the age difference. though, the redhead might realize how deep her feelings go once it’s too late. //

warnings: insecure!melissa, reader is so painfully in love with melissa it’s hilarious, melissa is an idiot who can’t handle emotions, pining, mutual pining, jealous!reader, jealous!melissa, brief gary x melissa (they go on one date), reader is in her twenties.

melissa knows right away that she doesn’t like you. you’re too young, too loud, too perky, too nice. you had moved in across the hall from her a couple months ago, and had knocked on her door the same day you moved in. you had this big smile on your face, along with this large tupperware of brownies. though, in your defense it had not been a good day for melissa. her ex husband had just revealed he had an affair while they were still married, and even though she no longer loved joe, it still hurt.

“who the hell are you?” she asks, as soon as she swings the door open. your smile doesn’t even falter, and it’s the most annoying thing melissa has ever seen. “i’m y/n! i just moved into the apartment across the hall. i just wanted to introduce myself and give you these.” your western accent indicated you were far from home, and the positive energy radiating off of you only seemed to put melissa in a worse mood than she already was. you hand her the tupperware of brownies, and she scowls.

“we don’t really introduce ourselves to neighbors ‘round here. your lucky you didn’t knock on 402’s door. he’s a creep.” she mutters as she takes the tub of sweets. “oh. thanks for the warning.” you joke, and you tilt your head to side, “i never got your name.” you add and she snorts. “cause i never gave it, kid.” she responds curtly before shutting the door right in your face.

that was your first impression of melissa. it was enough to make any sane person steer clear of her… but you weren’t necessarily a sane woman. you were usually up before eleven every morning to go on a run or do a small workout. one morning you wake up extra early, and catch the redhead in the elevator. you don’t appear to notice the way her eyes roam up your tight leggings, and small zipped up sweater that clung to your body. “good morning, neighbor.” you greet her, and she keeps this stone cold expression etched onto her features.

“morning.” she flatly responds, clearly uninterested. “did you like the brownies?” you inquire curiously, as the elevator door closes behind you. “i’m not a fan of chocolate. i prefer pumpkin or apple.” she bluntly replies, and you don’t let her attitude discourage you. in fact, you visibly pep up at the newly found information. “i love pumpkin cinnamon rolls. next time i make some, i’ll bring some over for you.” you say, as the elevator door opens. “i’ll see ya around, neighbor! have a good day.” you call out as you rush towards the exit of the building. melissa rolls her eyes as the elevator doors close, and she continues her way to the parking garage.

your perkiness in the mornings was something melissa couldn’t adjust to. she didn’t want to. as soon as you realized the redhead was in the elevator every morning at 7:20, you were there as well. it was borderline obsessive in the redheads opinion, and she couldn’t stand that dopey grin on your face whenever you’d see her. it was like clockwork. she’d get in the elevator, click on the floor for the parking garage, and you’d squeeze in before the doors closed. she was beginning to consider taking the stairs.

she wasn’t sure how you knew when she was home, but on friday evening, she was in the middle of making dinner when a knock on the door caused her to knock over an open bottle of water. “shit! fuck— i’m comin’!” she yells out frustratedly as she makes her way to the front door. when she opens it, there you are with that stupid smile on your face. this time you’re holding a plate with a large slice of sweet bread on it, with icing slathered on top. it was saran wrapped cutely on the white plate.

“pumpkin cinnamon bread, with cream cheese icing.” your voice is light, and you’re gazing up at her with these big innocent eyes; just begging for her approval. there’s hopefulness laced into your orbs, and not even melissa has the heart to turn this away. “pumpkin in april… thanks kid.” she mutters, and if she thought your smile was big before… it seems to illuminate with her backhanded compliment. maybe it was the fact that one of her favorite students made her a painting in art class, and she was feeling particularly mushy today.

“you like pasta?” she asks you blandly, still sounding indifferent about your sudden intrusion on her dinner making. you nod eagerly, “yup! i haven’t had it in ages though… i don’t know any good italian spots around here, and i can’t cook to save my life.” you confess sheepishly, and she nods as she turns around and disappears into the apartment. she leaves her door wide open, and you stand there, clearly confused. “well, what ‘re you waiting for? come in, dinners almost ready.” she commands, causing your eyes to widen in shock.

“unless you got somewhere else to be tonight?” she asks, looking over her shoulder to see how shocked you look. you shake your head quickly, “nope! it was just gonna be me and the takeout guy tonight.” you half joke, as you walk in, shutting the door behind you. you go quiet as you stand behind the counter, and melissa wipes up the water she had spilled earlier. she turns her head to see you glancing around the room, clearly nervous. it’s the quietest she’s ever heard you. “what? place not what you expected?” she asks, and your eyes lock with hers.

“i just… i didn’t think i’d get to see the inside of your place before i got to know your name.” you admit, and melissa can feel an uncontrollable smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “my names melissa.” she confesses, and your eyes go all soft at the revelation. “melissa… huh. that’s a pretty name. it suits you.” you blurt aloud, and she turns away to check on the pasta, hiding the blush that coats her cheeks.

melissa learns quite a bit about you after that. you’re twenty-four, you had lived in the west coast all your life, and you spent your teenage years stuck taking care of your grandma and siblings. the more melissa discovers about you, the harder it is for her to hate you. your kindness isn’t fake or falsified like most of the people around here; you speak every word with genuineness and sincerity. a routine seems to progress between the two of you; every friday evening you knock on her door with some new platter of sweets, and melissa proceeds to invite you in for dinner.

every friday turns into every other day, and before she knows it, you two are having dinner together every night. the redhead went from hating you, to enjoying your presence more than anyone else’s. at first, melissa assumed she simply enjoyed your company because she was lonely. but after a few months of you, she quickly realized what the little flutter in her belly meant whenever she’d see you. melissa’s head would grow fuzzy whenever you complimented her, and she turned into a blushing mess. not to mention how she couldn’t necessarily hide how happy she was to see you now.

she’d pick out a bottle of wine, and makes different recipes she thinks you’d like. she finds herself humming along to old italian songs as she cooks, waiting for the gentle knocks on her door.

tonight you brought her new york cheesecake with raspberry filling on top. you greet her as you push past her, placing the cake onto her counter. “i know, cheesecake is so bad for our health, but i had a terrible day.” you tell her, and you begin to ramble about how awful your boss is. though, all melissa can do is take in how absolutely beautiful you are. the way your hair falls, and moves as you talk with the emotions you wear on your face. when you don’t get a response from melissa for awhile, you look over and see her leaning against the door, staring at you with a peculiar expression.

“what? what’s wrong?” you question, she offers you a gentle shake of her head. “you’re really beautiful, you know that?” she blurts out, her entire demeanor changing as soon as she realizes what she just said. her eyes go wide as she stands up straight, instead of looking appalled or surprised, the blood rises to your face. a shy grin plasters itself onto your face, as you push your hair behind your ears before gazing at her like some shy schoolgirl. “you’re calling me beautiful? have you seen yourself?” you ask her, and that’s the moment that seems to solidify it for melissa.

the way her heartbeat picks up as the words leave your lips, and something in the pit of her stomach bursts, as if a million cocoons hatched into butterflies inside of her. she began to feel something she hasn’t felt since before she married joe. she couldn’t believe some western twenty something year old kid was making her feel this way.

you appear to be able to read melissa like an open book. she doesn’t have to tell you how she’s feeling for you to know. you’re the only person who’s ever been able to figure her out, and it’s scary. melissa also wasn’t an idiot. she could tell judging by the gleam of adoration in your eyes, you were growing quite the crush on her. sometimes she wonders why. you’re in your twenties, you’re hot, and you know how to bake a mean banana cream pie… melissa also sees how the doorman and a variety of other men ogle you in the mornings. you could have anyone you want, yet you spend your evenings eating melissa’s various italian recipes.

however, the redhead is very closed off. especially romantically. after joe, she’s dated around but nobody’s ever gotten a second date. she hasn’t been so intimate with someone in so long, even before her divorce, the marriage was falling apart. dinner every night was not an option for her and joe; he always came home late, and by the time he arrived his plate of leftovers were in the microwave. even when he’d be home while she was cooking, he’d eat in the living room in front of the tv. you were so enthralled by melissa, sometimes you could hardly focus on the food with how much attention you paid her.

she tries to hide the way she revels in your attention, and how the glimmer in your eyes directed towards her causes those stupid butterflies inside of her to repopulate. “you do not actually have random baseball bats around your apartment…” you trail off one evening, as you’re both sitting on melissa’s comfortable couch. there’s a glass of wine in each of your hands; you’re both on your second glass, and you’re sure it’s the expensive wine melissa keeps locked away. it makes you feel special when she puts so much thought into the dinners you two share. they mean something to you, and you’re positive they mean something to her as well.

“i do. they’re hidden around.” she explains, taking a sip of her wine. you let out a genuine giggle; your wide eyed gaze is pouring right into her, nobody’s ever looked at her with such reverence. something then flickers in her eyes as she remembers something; “speaking of… i’ve been meaning to give you one. ya look like you can’t swing for shit, but it’s better than ya having nothing to defend yourself with.” melissa rambles as she stands up, disappearing into her bedroom. your brows knit together in slight confusion as you wait for her to return.

when she does, she has a medium sized wooden bat. it was dark wood and looked brand new. “wait, you were serious?” you ask, letting out a breathless little chuckle. “you live on a questionable part of town, by yourself, y/n. you barely even forget to lock your door when you come over.” she scolds, sounding undoubtedly upset by the fact. your baffled features quickly morph into a soft expression, “you worried about me, lissa?” you tauntingly ask, and she lets out this vexed huff, waving the wooden bat closer to you.

“just take the damn thing and keep it by your bed.” she commands, while you gladly accept the strange but thoughtful gift. “it’ll make you feel safer.” she adds, her neck burning as you stare at her with a vulnerable look on your face. “okay. but i’ll have you know i’ve never felt safer than knowing my tough, kick ass neighbor is right across the hall.” you assure her, and something inside of melissa is slipping; whether it’s her resolve or the walls she so desperately tries to keep up. “thanks for worrying about me though. i worry about you too.” you clarify, and melissa would normally scoff at a comment like that.

she’d shake her head and demand for you to know she can take care of herself… but she can’t. as you stare into her eyes with the sole intent of wanting her to understand how much she means to you, melissa finds herself taking a seat beside you again, deciding to let the comment slide. maybe she enjoyed knowing someone as sweet as you cared about her. it’s been so long since anyone’s cared for her in this way; it was sort of foreign to her by now. yet it was also comforting.

though melissa often found herself thinking about what things would be like when you finally met somebody. if you’d opt to spending your evenings with your new girlfriend or boyfriend… if you’d look at them with the same gaze you’d look at her with. some evenings she’d catch herself staring at you, and she’d think of being in the shoes of some younger woman… someone who can give you the start at life that you need. you’re in your early twenties, and there’s no way you’d ever want someone old and used up like melissa.

so naturally, the night you invite melissa to your place for dinner instead of just heading to hers… she feels an odd bundle of nerves knotting up in her stomach. she changes after work; which is something she never does. she puts on that sundress she likes to wear when she’s feeling good about herself. as soon as you open the door, your eyes nearly bug out of your head. you have a grease stain on your cheek, she assumes it’s some kind of cooking oil. the apron you’re wearing is hiding the tight top and jeans you’re wearing underneath, but melissa thinks you’ve never looked more cute.

“you’re early! i— i’m still making dinner, please sit down.” you urge her, and melissa offers you that soft smile that seems to only be reserved for you these days. she looks around your place; taking in the pictures on the walls, and the flatscreen that’s too big in melissa’s opinion. she barely watches tv, and when she does it’s in bed on her phone. “yeah, i left a little early because ava hired some of the teachers some new assistants.” she tells you, and you cock a brow, flashing her an amused grin. “an assistant? how do you like that?” you question curiously, knowing how difficult it was for the redhead to warm up to new people.

she snorts, “the kids fine. she’s a little younger than you. can’t understand a word she says but the kids like her.” she murmurs, shrugging, before she looks over at you. you’re stirring whatever’s in the pot, and she quirks a brow. “you actually might like her.” melissa’s comment rolls off your back easily, you don’t seem to notice the difference in her tone. you laugh lightly, “i doubt that. i’ve never gotten along with girls that well. guys either.” you confess, and melissa snorts. “oh yeah, sure, the girl who makes conversation with the mailman doesn’t have any friends. who do you think you’re lying to here, kid?” she questions, and you frown, rolling your eyes. “i’m not a kid. and just because i know how to make conversation with people, doesn’t mean i have a lot of friends.” your voice is light, and lacks any sort of defense or malice.

melissa sort of envies how easy it is for you to talk about things. “i mean, even in high school i had like three friends. they all still live back home, and we talk from time to time but it’s not like we can just hang out every weekend, you know?” you begin to ramble as you stir the searing food in the pan. “you’re the only person who i hang out with, and i’m lucky you even wanna hang out with me.” you add half jokingly, and you turn to see an inscrutable expression etched onto the older woman’s face.

“anyone would wanna hang out with you… i mean one day you’re gonna find someone who can’t stay away from you.” melissa says in an abnormally gentle way, there’s a hint of sadness in her voice and you cock a brow at the redhead. “does it count if i’ve already found someone i can’t stay away from? i’m literally making beef stroganoff for her, and i almost burned down the kitchen twice just to impress her.” you admit, and on cue whatever is in the pan begins smoking.

melissa’s eyes widen as a blush coats her beautiful face. she rushes over to your side, “jesus, y/n! why didn’t you tell me you wanted beef stroganoff? i could make this in my sleep!” she begins to shoo you away, and you frown, shaking your head stubbornly. “because you always make dinner; i wanted to cook for you.” your fervent voice causes melissa’s heart to lurch in her chest. “i don’t just cook for just anybody, yanno’? i cook for you because i like ya, and don’t know how else to show it. i’m not all sweet like you.” she clarifies, and your heartbeat quickens as her words sink in.

she’s trying her hardest to avoid your eyes, and you can’t help the uncontrollable blush on your cheeks. “you like me?” you ask her, and she rolls her eyes. “like it wasn’t obvious when i cooked mac n cheese as a main dish. seriously, kid, your taste buds are strange.” she mutters, and you bite your lip, trying to contain the grin on your face. “yeah, well, as strange as my palette is, you like me.” you taunt her, and notice the way her focused stirring falters ever so slightly. she scoffs, forcing an exasperated expression on her face.

“don’t make me take it back.” she murmurs, and you can’t seem to stop grinning at her like an idiot.

the seasons change and so do things between you and melissa. it isn’t a significant enough change for you to mention it, but it is enough for you to feel the difference. melissa is so soft, and carefree around you now. before she was so tough and prickly; she’s still a bit prickly but you don’t mind getting poked in order to see her true self every now and then. you two appear to be doing this slow dance around the obvious feelings you have for one another.

melissa is way more reluctant than you are. she hates the way her mind works, but it’s not like she can control it. usually how cute and thoughtful you are washes away any doubts she has about herself, except for one day she runs out parsley, and has to run to the store. of course you offer to come along with her, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater and excitedly trotting by her side.

“you sure you don’t need anything else from here? you’re running out of juice.” you remind her and she mentally scolds herself. “you’re right! thanks hun.” she sweetly thanks you, making your face hot as she reaches for the orange juice. you both make your way to the checkout line, and you aimlessly look around at the chocolates. “y/n! hey!” a familiar voice causes you and melissa to turn around. you eyebrows rises slightly as you run into a woman who you went on a few dates with when you first moved here.

“tracy! hey!” you greet her, and she hugs you before you can even think. melissa is watching the interaction like a hawk, and as soon as the raven haired girl hugs you, there’s a burning sensation of pure rage deep rooted in her belly. her eyes narrow as “tracy” pulls away from you, and looks at you as if she wants to ravish you in the supermarket. “you never called me again! i had a lot of fun mini-golfing with you.” she says, and you sheepishly rub the back of your neck, clearly racking your brain for a flimsy excuse.

that’s when realization hits melissa; you dated this woman! the thought alone nearly makes her scoff. this was your type? mid-twenties, soft skin, hippie wannabe? “i just got really busy adjusting to living here and all that… but how are you?” you try to steer the subject away from the awkward final date you hated. it wasn’t fun for you; you had to force yourself to be some cool girl you clearly weren’t. “i’m good! how are you? what are you up to tonight?” she asks hopefully, and you smile.

“i’m good as well. this is melissa, we’re here picking up some parsley for dinner tonight.” you introduce the redhead, and tracy’s demeanor immediately shifts as she assumes the older woman is your girlfriend. “oh. hi, i’m tracy.” she introduces herself to the grade school teacher, holding out her hand for the second grade teacher to shake. melissa only nods curtly in in tracy’s direction, “hey.” she flatly responds. and you notice the tension in the air right away. “well, it was nice seeing you again, tracy.” you say suggestively, and tracy nods.

“yeah, you too. you should call me sometime.” she squeezes your arm before she leaves, and melissa looks as though she wants to murder you with her eyes. “next.” the checkout clerk calls out, snapping the redhead out of her thoughts. she places the orange juice and parsley down much harder than she intended; it even causes the middle-aged man to jump slightly. “rough day?” he questions with a goofy grin, trying to lighten the mood. melissa shoots daggers at him with her eyes, causing his smile to fall as he clears his throat.

he scans the items quickly, “that’ll be $8.97.” he states; not a single slick remark left in him. melissa inserts her card, finishing the transaction without another word. she storms out of the supermarket with you in tow, trying to catch up to her as you follow her to her car. when you’re both strapped in, the car starts and the ride is quiet for the first minute and a half. you hate awkward silences, especially with her. “i honestly forgot i even tried dating when i first moved here.” you pipe up.

“well maybe now you can give her a call, since you’re no longer busy and adjusting.” she mocks your lame excuse from a few minutes ago, and you frown. “i didn’t— the reason i didn’t call her back wasn’t because i was adjusting—“ you try to explain yourself, but melissa cuts you off. “you don’t have to explain yourself to me. we’re friends, i don’t care who you go on lousy dates with.” her voice is harsh, and it’s a tone you recognize all too well. it’s the same one she uses when she used to have her walls up high, refusing to let you get even a glimpse into her mind.

she doesn’t allow you to tell her it was solely because you didn’t want to call tracy again. the dates were terrible; the entire time you were just pretending to be someone you’re not. you only forced yourself to go because you had been living here for a month, and hadn’t made a single friend. melissa stubbornly cooks dinner, and the conversation through the night is short. you aren’t used to it, and it hurts. but you convince yourself tomorrow she’ll be ready to talk about it.

but the next morning, melissa must’ve left for work earlier than usual because you don’t see her in the elevator. you text her to have a good day, but never get a response. throughout the day you can’t help but think about her, and you wonder why she became so closed off after finding out about your meaningless dates with tracy. you understood she might’ve been a little jealous; sometimes you got jealous whenever she spoke about joe. but she seemed so genuinely upset, all you wanted to do was figure out what was going through her head.

you decide to make her some pumpkin carrot cake before heading to her apartment for dinner. it’s nearly six when you’re finished, and you place it in a tupperware nicely for her. you’re practicing in your head what you want to say to her tonight, and how you should assess the situation. by the time you knock on her door you have a simple smile on your face, and the door swings open, the sight nearly causing your eyes to bug out of their sockets.

melissa was wearing a tight black dress that hugged her body perfectly, and enhanced every single curve. the exposed cleavage caused you to force your eyes on hers in order not to sneak a longer peak. your hopeful smile falls a bit when you notice the hard expression on her face. before she can even ask you anything, you begin blabbering like you usually do. “look, i know you said we’re just friends, but there’s more to us than just that… we both know it. we may not have ever talked about it or what it means, but i haven’t dated anyone since this started…” you ramble, and melissa’s eyes soften for a split second, her hard facade slipping as a wave of panic washes over her.

“y/n—“ she tries, but the voice behind her is interrupting, causing your heart to fall right into your stomach. “everything okay, red?” a deep, unfamiliar voice asks, causing you to freeze. melissa suddenly has this unrecognizable expression of regret on her face. “y-yeah everything’s fine, gar.” she says back, “gary? as in the vending machine guy who’s been flirting with you all year, gary?” you ask in disbelief, and a slight bit of anger is mixed into your voice. she had been so upset about you going on a few dates with tracy before you two were even friends, and now she was here having a romantic dinner with gary. you could even smell the type of food she made him.

“he’s been asking me all year, and i decided since it’s been awhile since i’ve been on a date, i should get back out there.” melissa says the words she’s practiced saying to you in her head. she knew you’d come over today, you always do. she knew you’d see her with gary, and maybe she wanted that. she wanted you to feel how she felt when she saw you and tracy. though as you stare up at her with this kicked puppy-dog expression, she knows you aren’t feeling what she was feeling yesterday. you’re just straight up hurt and it’s written all over your face.

you glance down at the stupid dessert you spent all afternoon perfecting. “well, this is for you, because i wanted to apologize for upsetting you. i can see now you weren’t upset at all.” you have to force yourself to speak, and you surprisingly hold it together as you shove the tupperware in melissa’s hands. you turn to walk back into your apartment, and a wave of regret flashes over the redhead. melissa reaches out for you, “y/n, wait—“ a firm but soft hand wraps around your wrist, but you pull it away from her as you spin around and flash her a dejected look. the sight breaks her heart in two.

“it’s fine. you were right; we’re friends. you don’t have to explain yourself to me. i don’t care who you go on dates with.” you throw the words back in her face, and there’s a flicker of emotions on her face but you turn away and disappear into your apartment. melissa stands there staring at your door; she looks down at the cake in her hands and she hates how tight her chest gets. it’s like her heart might pop in her chest. she doesn’t feel the way she thought she would, and suddenly she mentally curses herself for thinking it’d feel good to hurt you.

melissa is off her game at work the next day. she texts you, and for the first time since you two became friends, you’re the one who doesn’t reply. the redhead realizes she made a mistake. instead of talking about her insecurities or how hurt she was when she saw you and tracy, she ended up jumping the gun and going out with the safest option. gary.

in truth she did like gary; maybe not enough to want to date him, but she found him moderately attractive. she also thought he was pretty funny, and he appears to like her a lot. though none of that was anything compared to what she felt for you. melissa could not stop thinking about you and that hurt face of yours all day. she even decides to cook your favorite food for dinner.

but when six-thirty rolls around, and you still haven’t knocked on her door, there’s a sinking sensation in her stomach. melissa huffs as she looks at the dinner she prepared, and thought of it going to waste angered her. or maybe it was the thought of you just standing her up, even though it’s not like she personally invited you tonight. maybe you think she’s with gary again.

usually melissa is very stubborn, and she would never consider going across the hall and begging you… but she can’t get you out of her damn head. so she takes her ass straight to your door, not even bothering to close hers. she knocks on your door vigorously, not stopping once until the door swings open to reveal you. your hair is damp, and you’re in an old oversized tee shirt; the printing was faded but the hem reached just below your thighs. melissa had to refrain herself from gazing down at your smooth legs.

“i cooked dinner and you’re ready for bed, what gives?” she questions, hating how she sounds like a petulant child. you look a bit surprised to see her, “don’t you have a date with gary and his mustache?” you ask a bit bitterly, and melissa scowls. “it was just dinner, y/n.” the redhead says, and you gaze up into her eyes. “dinner like we have?” you ask, and she huffs in response. “that’s different and you know it! you said it yourself yesterday, there’s more to us than just that.” she reminds you.

“i was clearly wrong.” you sound abnormally stubborn, and melissa sighs in frustration. “i’m not going to see gary again, kid. so just come on over and sit down for dinner.” she commands, and you shake your head defiantly.

“no.” you retort, and she raises a brow, obviously shocked by the disobedience. “no?” she asks you in the warning tone she uses whenever one of her students is testing her. “that’s right, i’m saying no. ever since this started, i’ve always done what you say. i go at your pace, i wake up earlier just to see you, i don’t bake anything with chocolate because you hate chocolate. did you know it’s my favorite? i do whatever you ask to satisfy you. i put my feelings to the side, just to make sure yours are valid. all for my efforts to be outweighed by a guy who restocks the gushers in the vending machine.” you stress, sounding reasonably upset.

“why did you even get so upset about tracy the other day if you were planning on going out with gary? i don’t understand you.” you add, and the dam melissa built to keep her emotions in abruptly bursts. “exactly! you don’t understand me! you’re this young kid who has her whole life to look forward to. this is just a passing moment in your life; this apartment, this city, our dinners, me.” her voice lowers, “you got your whole life ahead of ya, you shouldn’t waste it tryin’ ta’ understand me. you should be dating girls like tracy who are equipped with all sorts of emotions, and able to give you what you need.” she adds, and you frown as she pours her heart out to you. she appears to be full of regret, and vulnerability.

“and what exactly do i need, lissa?” you can’t help but ask, and she runs her fingers through her soft red locks. “you need someone who’ll take care of ya, and show ya how much they care about you. you need someone who isn’t old and afraid of what everyone else thinks. maybe someone who wouldn’t completely embarrass the shit out of ya whenever you decide to take them back to your hometown…” she trails off, now she’s avoiding your eyes and the abnormal, unconfident demeanor causes you to frown. you practically worship the ground melissa walks on; even if she didn’t know it, you were completely enamored by her. it frustrates you to know she doesn’t put herself on a similar pedestal.

“you are the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid eyes on. when i met you, i felt this instant pull that i had never felt before. god, i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone as pretty as you, and it makes me so mad that you don’t think of yourself that way. i love you, you know? everything about you; the crinkles by your eyes whenever you smile, the way you curse when you’re angry, your southern philly accent… that irritated frown on your face whenever you’re upset.” you begin to get lost in your words, the space between you both getting smaller and unnoticed. her heart palpitates as you rave on and on about her with this genuine expression of stringent affection.

“you have all these amazing qualities, and you sell yourself short. you’re the best freakin’ cook in the world; the best and sexiest teacher in the world; you’re tough as nails; you have this energy that follows you, it’s fierce and warm. just like you. and as for your age, it’s hard for me too…” the last comment makes her eyes harden, and you’re quick to add, “… but it’s not because i think you’re old, mel. it’s because sometimes i feel like you don’t think of me as your equal. you just think of me as this young kid who’s a burden. but i know who i am, and what i want. i keep a memory of everything you do in the back of my head, and the space in my mind you take up is only getting bigger and bigger. you’re it for me, i’m positive, because how can i see anyone else when you’re engraved in my mind and heart?” you ask her, pouring your whole heart out to her.

your eyes widen when you see the tears threatening to fall from her delicate green eyes. “that’s— that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me… you— that was more romantic than the vows at my wedding…” melissa’s voice cracks and she tries to put on that stony facade, but it doesn’t work. your words seemed to have broken one of the steel walls she puts up; it’s crumbled into millions of pieces and left her exposed in front of you. her eyes are unguarded and her expression is fragile. she feels so small.

“you can’t just say things like that!” she snaps, her voice higher than usual. you shake your head, “why not? you deserve to hear more good things about yourself, and i can go on all night.” you sheepishly admit, and melissa’s eyes soften when they meet yours. “you really feel that way about me? even though i’m probably older than your mom?” she half jokes, but the self-doubt is leaking through her tone. “you are definitely way hotter than my mother.” you mutter, and melissa gasps but can’t manage to fight to the grin that’s tugging at her lips.

“gee kid, you feel all of that for me and have never even tried ta’ kiss me? what gives?” you can hear the genuine curiosity behind the playful question, and your cheeks turn an embarrassing shade of pink. “i didn’t… i didn’t think you wanted me. i mean, yesterday when i saw you with hulk hogan—“ she cuts in, “gary.” she corrects and you scowl cutely, “whatever. when i saw you with him it kind of reminded me you’re a woman who needs someone to take care of you and i… i’m just a kid.” you look down at your sock covered feet, and before you can even think about anything else, melissa is cupping your face and making you face her.

her lips are on yours in an instant, and the butterflies in your belly begin to repopulate one by one. she pulls away before you can think twice, “you’re not just a kid to me. you’re a good person, y/n. i’m sorry i was so immature about everything.” she sounds ashamed, but the sincerity in her voice makes your heart speed up. your cheeks burn and maybe the kiss sweetened you up a bit. “it’s okay, lissa. i understand… next time just talk to me.” you assure her and she smirks. “or i can just kiss ya again and see where that gets me.” she half jokes, making you grin.

“or that too.”

[ellieslittlewh0re]

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏)

* ೃ⁀➷ part 2 - part 3

pairings - farmers daughter! reader x farmhand! ellie

summary - your dad hires a stranger to help out around the farm

additional tags - inexperienced but flirty reader, shy/loser ellie, cowboy boot wearing ellie, mutual pinning, slight masturbation mention (e!), e! w/ a southern accent??, eventual smut, (nothing too crazy happens in this part it’s mostly just setting vibes lol)

Beads of sweat collected on the bridge of your nose, and your thighs stuck together as you sat on the porch swing, just lazily swinging back and forth, using your tippy toes to keep the momentum going.

You look out over the vast pasture- green as far as the eye can see, with nothing to distract from the country landscape except for some power lines out in the distance.

Even with the sun starting to set- it was still unbelievably hot.

"Keep goin' like that and you're gonna die of a heat stroke."

You yell to your father who was working under the hood of his rusty truck. Usually, he pays no mind to your nagging, but this time it seemed to work- or perhaps he was just finished for the night.

He shuts the hood, slamming it with a metallic thud before wiping his hands on a greasy rag.

His boots rang loudly against the hallow wooden stairs of the porch, looking down at you through bushy eyebrows.

"I don't need your sass, kid."

You roll your eyes at his comment. He's always been stubborn and tough, but in his old age, you can't help but worry. His cheeks have hallowed over the years, sun spots forming from the countless hours working on the farm, and his movements became slowed from the hard work catching up to him.

"I wouldn't sass if you'd just listen. Seriously, it's okay to hire someone to help. no one is gonna shame you for that." You pester affectionately, standing from the swing to open the screen door and enter the house with him following behind.

You follow him to the kitchen, listing all the reasons why he should have help.

One: he's getting old.

Two: his knee has never been the same since he had that operation done 4 years ago.

Three: the farm is too big and demanding to tend to alone.

"Okay- enough.. you sound just like your mother sometimes I swear." He hold a hand up, pausing you mid-ramble, and takes a sip from the glass he filled from the tap.

You pouted, and once again, your suggestions felt shot down.

He finishes the water, wiping his beard with the back of his hand.

"I actually have someone comin' by tomorrow. They were recommended t' me by Phillip at the feed store."

Your eyes lighten up, a smile grows on your face, and you finally feel like you can breathe, knowing that the hardships wouldn't be your dads alone anymore.

You rush around the kitchen island, placing a kiss to your dads cheek and squeezed him tight.

"Thank you! I can't wait- I'll have to bake em' something sweet tonight."

"Alright- settle down-" he pushes you away slightly with a smile on his weathered face. Truly an adoring annoyance that only a parent could love.

Your old man calls it a night, showering and off to bed he went, but you? Oh- you were busy. You tried your hardest to keep the sound down to a minimum, bowls, and kitchen utensils splayed on the counters.

A small apron draped around your waist, flour smudged on your cheekbone as you pulled the blueberry scones out of the oven. A satisfied smile grows on your face as you observe your work and finishing of the pastries with a dusting of powdered sugar.

Maybe, you were going a tad bit overboard, but the truth is, you were painfully lonely. The only time you had any visitors on the farm was when you held pumpkin patches in the fall, but even then, it was always young families that didn't bother to stay around for too long.

You go upstairs, a slight pep in your step as you did so. You showered and put in your favorite pajamas- a short, soft floral patterned dress with bows that secured the straps.

You tossed in bed, sleep not being in favor since your mind was still wide awake. You try to picture what they would look like- what they sounded like.

Was he tall? Around your age, or is he just another old man like your father? Maybe they're not a man at all.

It's best not to get ahead of yourself; whoever this person is, they are coming to work for your dad and not to become your friend.

-

You slept lightly, and your senses became more aware as a muted thud rang outside your second-story bedroom window. You open your eyes slowly, blinking away the sleepy confusion as dust particles dance in the sunbeams of your room.

It took you a few seconds to realize why today was so important, but once you remembered- it had you scattering out of bed to your window, pulling back the sheer laced curtains, and taking a peak outside.

There was a truck you didn't recognize parked in the driveway. It was slightly newer than your dad's, but that's not saying much; a simple 2-door with an extended bed, slightly lifted with sturdy-looking tires.

A slim figure stood next to the driver's side door, hands on their hips as they looked up at the house. To your surprise, it wasn't a man at all.

You squint, trying to get a better look at her without realizing how big of a creep you are being.

Her hair shined a brilliant shade of auburn in the morning light, a brown button up shirt with the sleep rolled up to her elbows, slightly flared and worn denim jeans hugged her hips with brown cowboy boots that seemed to match the leather of her belt.

You caught a glimpse of something on her arm, dark lines that disrupted her pale skin. It was a tattoo, although you could make out the details of the design.

She looked the part of someone who knows how to run a farm, but something about her seemed so out of place- almost like she was too pretty for such a dirty job.

While you were too busy eyeing her up and down, you didn't realize she had caught you. She put her hand up, holding it there for a second before bringing it back down to her side. You wave back, a slight wiggle of you fingertips which made her smile.

You watch her walk out of the frame of your window before sitting on the edge of your bed- your fingers grasping at the embroidered comforter. You had this weird feeling in your tummy; it was something you couldn't explain, almost like nausea but also like when you go on a big rollercoaster.

You felt nervous but excited all at the same time. You figured it was because she was around your age, maybe slightly older- shrugging it off as you got up and got ready for the day.

You brush your hair before tying it into two loose braids, finishing it with light pink ribbons at the ends. You wanted to put a little more effort into your appearance today since you're meeting someone new, and as daddy always said, "First impressions are the most important."

You take a deep breath in the last most of solitude of your room before making your way down the stairs, the conversation between the stranger and your father growing louder and louder from the kitchen as you inched closer.

"There she is-" your dad motions an arm in your direction, the stranger immediacy turning to meet your face.

"Ellie, this is my daughter, y/n, and y/n, this is Ellie."

"It's nice t' meet you, Ellie." You said in your sweetest voice you could muster as you walk towards her, holding a hand out.

"Likewise." She smiles, taking your hand in hers and shakes it firmly. She seemed respectful, maybe even a little flustered- seeing that her cheeks started to turn a deep shade of pink.

Upon seeing her closer, it didn't help settle your nerves. She was gorgeous; freckles adorned her alabaster skin, a scar that ran through her eyebrow and upper lip, and her eyes a mossy shade of green with dark, long lashes framing the shape.

She was honestly the prettiest girl you've ever seen but not in the same way you were often described. There was a boyish charm to her that you had never seen before.

"Well- best we get to it then." Your dad chimes in, causing you to let go of the calloused hand that you hadn't realized you were still holding onto.

"I'll see you around Ellie." You just barely make audible to her, bitting down on your bottom lip before turning on your heel and leaving them to do their jobs.

Ellie was almost speechless upon meeting you. Never in a million years did she ever think a girl like you could live in this small country town, but fuck, leave it to her luck- you were the boss's daughter, which means you were off limits.

You didn't make it easy on her either, prancing around in your little summer dress that flowed with your movements, rising dangerously high when you would turn around, almost giving her a peek of your ass.

Ellie swallowed hard each time, the saliva filling her mouth with all the dirty thoughts she had- which mostly consisted of you underneath her, completely naked and trembling after she forced a 4th orgasm out of you.

-

The sun was starting to set, blanketing the canvas in shades of orange and pink, and to your disappointment- Ellie would be leaving soon.

She was walking towards her truck, slightly dragging her feet from exhaustion, and you're happy she did so. It gave you enough time to run out of the house barefoot, container filled with the homemade goods in your hands.

"Ellie!-" you called out to her which made her turn around, her hand opening the driver side door.

You nearly bump into her, slightly out of breath as you held up the tupperware with both of your hands.

"Sorry- I made them last night, must've forgotten in to give 'em' to you earlier." Again, your voice is so sweet and innocent- like honey coated candies on her tongue.

A smirk grows on her face, taking the gift from you to inspect them.

"That's mighty kind of you.. oh no, are these blueberries?"

Your face contorts to concern, and Ellie can't help but think how fucking cute you look all worried like that.

"Yeah, why? Do you not like 'em?" You pout, almost like you're on the verge of tears

A low chuckle reverberates in her throat, "I'm just messing with you, doll. They look delicious."

"Meanie."

A few seconds of silence go by, and Ellie looks everywhere except your face, and I mean everywhere- including the plushness of your breast that spilled over the top of your dress - she couldn't have you knowing how red her cheeks are right now.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" She said it almost like a question- as if you'd miss out on such an opportunity.

"See you tomorrow, Ellie. Goodnight." You stand on your tippy toes, planting a quick kiss on the rounds of her cheeks, and run back inside, leaving Ellie in full panic mode.

She gets into her truck, taking a moment to herself before turning over the engine. Her fingers tighten around the steering wheel as she replays it in her head. She felt like she could combust, literally and figuratively- her head came down to rest on the wheel, and her cheeks ached from the smile that wouldn't seem to leave her lips.

In fact- she thought about it all night long. When she showered, when she laid in bed trying to sleep, she was tingling, an ache growing inside the depths of her stomach.

I mean, could you blame her? You didn't try to hide how hard you stared or how flirtatious you were towards her.

Maybe you were just like that with everyone.

Still- it didn't stop her. And It didn't stop her hand from slipping into the waistband of her checkered pajama pants, and it definitely didn't stop her from fingering herself to thoughts of you.

She came hard that night, harder than she had before, and she can't help but wonder- if simply her imagines of you felt this good, how would fucking you for real feel?

❥ taglist - @machetegirl109

[toxicanonymity]

Good Morning darling, just wanted to say that you're such a talented writer! <3 these Joel fics are top notch 👌💗 but could you please write Joel miller X f| reader who enjoys spying on Joel while he masturbates she doesn't do it all the time just slips buy her mother's place and she wasn't home that day so the reader sneaks upstairs and just listens to his sultry moans😏thank you!!💗 The amount of support you give me is much appreciated btw!!✨love yah! X

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1.2k, stepdad!Joel x f!reader

Stepdad master list

WARNINGS: I8+ big, girthy legal age gap, stepcest, mutual masturbation.

A/N: Well this exploded out of my fingers. I had to take it a little further than just listening. . .

-

Starts at 18, flashes forward to present day.

Senior year of high school, just after your 18th birthday, your Mom went out of town and left you with your stepdad. They married when you were a teenager, so you always just called him Joel. One night, you heard painful sounds coming from the office. You called out to ask if Joel was okay, but he didn’t answer. When you went to check, the door was open and he was wearing headphones, watching porn on the computer. His arm was moving and there was no mistaking what he was doing.

His grunts and moans made you tingle between the legs, you couldn’t help it. You stood there and watched until he seemed to notice you in the reflection. Then, you quietly disappeared before he could turn around. You lurked in the kitchen and based on what you heard, he didn’t stop. He came loudly soon after you walked away.

You thought about him differently after that. You thought about that night, wondering if he was watching you in the reflection, if he ever would have stopped or turned around or was getting off on the idea of you hearing him. You thought about him sexually. Quite often. A flip switched and he was suddenly so hot to you.

-

Now it’s been years since you lived at home, but you still drop in every once in a while, and every time, you find you’re still attracted to Joel. You’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but your intuition tells you it’s mutual. So when you go by your Mom’s house and she’s not home, you drop in anyway. Joel’s car is there. When you walk in, you call his name, and he doesn’t answer. He's not in the backyard, either. You wonder if he’s out for a run, then you hear him upstairs and the sound takes you right back to that night in high school.

You creep up the stairs, careful to skip the creaky step, and as you get closer to the bedroom, his grunts and heavy breathing send a rush of blood to your loins. You stand where you are and just listen while your panties get wet. Your hand creeps up your shirt, under your bra, and you clench your thighs together. Your need for him bubbles over until it forces your hand into acting.

You step away from the bedroom out of sight, and loudly call “Joel??”

He says “fuck” under his breath, then “just a sec!” You don’t give him too long, just a second or two, then approach the door. He’s flustered, panting, and his face is pink when he says “didn’t know you were comin’, sweetie.” He only turns around half-way and his hand rests in his lap where you see a definite tent in his joggers. He catches you looking, then his eyes scan your body and he wets his lips.

You walk in, take off your shoes, keeping an eye on him. Then you lie down on the bed and face him. The laptop is mostly closed, but even from the bed you recognize your Instagram and a bolt of arousal shoots through you.

"Don't let me interrupt," you say and raise an eyebrow. You take off your cardigan.

"You're not," he says.

"Oh, okay." You come over and put your hands on his shoulders and look down in his lap. Then you lean in and give him a kiss on the cheek. "What are you looking at there?" You nod to his laptop.

He closes it, then turns around to face you, and you go back to the bed. He puts his elbows on his knees and says, "Whatcha doin' here, sweetie? Somethin' you need?" His eyes darken as he scans your body again.

"Somethin' I want," you say and wet your lips.

He takes a deep breath through his nose, then adjusts himself. "And what's that now?"

". . .to watch you finish," you say.

His chest rises and falls and he raises his eyebrows. Then his eyes fall to your chest and he palms himself. God, he's hot. The look on his face makes you even wetter.

You slip your hand into your pants as reassurance that it's not a trick.

He watches you touch yourself for a few seconds, slowly palms himself with his big, masculine hand, then says in a hot, low voice, "This never happened."

You nod. You're throbbing.

He sits back in the rolling chair, facing the bed, and pulls his joggers down, freeing his cock as he wraps one hand around it. It's nice and thick. Already shiny with lube. The hair is neatly trimmed.

"Watch me finish. .. okay." He licks his lips. "Won't take long," he says and starts stroking himself slowly, eating you alive with his eyes.

You rub your clit, massage your breast, and bite your lip as he pumps his rock-hard length while he looks at you. It's less than a minute before his breath becomes labored and he grabs a tissue from the desk. His eyes are glued to you. You're getting close yourself and ask if he can hold off, but he can't. He was almost finished when you got there.

His face screws up and he loudly groans as his cock erupts into the tissue. His head falls back with a look of relief as he finishes. "Sorry, sweetie."

"So what are you gonna do about it," you challenge him as you touch yourself, panting, eyelids heavy.

"Nothin' at all," he says. "Not crossin' that line." He shakes his head and looks like he means it.

You scowl.

"I can tell ya what i'd like to do about it though," he says. "I'd like to come right over there. . . climb on top of ya. . . . Yank those pants off. . .maybe pull down your pretty little panties with my teeth." He licks his teeth.

You can feel your orgasm building.

"Pin your arms above your head so you can't touch yourself. . . That'd be my job," he says, and looks down at his big masculine hand. He flattens three fingers.

You're throbbing madly and feel it coming.

He puts two of those fingers in his mouth and pretends to suck them clean while his horny eyes bore a hole in you.

"Then?" You ask between heavy breaths.

"Well then I've got somethin' else to put between those pretty legs of yours. . ." he says and looks down at his big, veiny hand resting right at his crotch.

You catch yourself holding a breath, then release it. He looks down at himself, then at you, and when he begins to slowly massage his inner thigh, it puts you over the edge.

You moan and your spine lifts off the bed. Your ass digs into the mattress and you're overcome by the most powerful climax you've ever felt and you're shocked to find yourself squirting into your hand. A little smirk creeps up one side of his mouth as he watches you ride your waves. Then, once you catch your breath, he gives you a tissue.

He asks, "Like what you saw?" with a quick raise of his eyebrows. Then the garage opens and you quickly go to your old room.

-

no need to keep track of how many times we force or persuade someone to jerk off around here lmao.

-

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea. @evyiione

[deepestnightcolor]

If you don’t mind me asking, I love your writing and I’d love to see a Sam x quiet/awkward farmer who’s *really* bad at talking to people but he just automatically accepts them. Maybe mutual pining and anything else you’d like!! 🙈💕

☾ ᴘᴀᴘᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀɴᴇꜱ ☽

ᴀ/ɴ: Hello!!~ Thank you so, so much for your request. I certainly had fun writing it. I hope this is what you wanted! ^^ Thanks again for your time and request, I hope you enjoy~

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x GN!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 2271 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: No warnings, just fluff.

Slowly, the pen slipped from your fingers, your eyes wandering over the pages you had just written down your thoughts on. Your journal; a loyal companion. Sometimes, it felt like your best friend, so safe and secure.  It was the only time when you were able to articulate your thoughts and ideas without worrying about the words you chose, without fearing a stutter surfacing. You didn’t have to wonder if you sounded stupid, or your tongue twisting, disarranging your words. Your journal allowed you to share, without judgement, without the twisting in your stomach you often had when talking to people that weren’t part of your closest circle. Without feeling like you needed to run as fast and as far as possible. However, if someone casted a glance over the most recent pages, they would have found that you wanted quite the opposite. That there was a new person you wanted to talk to. That there was a person you wanted to get to know, that you wanted to share with. That there was a person that had caught your interest, and whose attention you wanted. Desperately so, even.

That’s why you took in a deep breath, carefully picking up the cactus fruit that had been sitting on your desk as if to remind you of what you had promised yourself, and you would be damned if you didn’t do it. At least that was what you had thought, up until you saw him. Sam was sitting on the bridge near the museum, picking up small rocks and tossing them in the river idly flowing by. Your heart fluttered in your chest when you heard him chuckle at an especially loud plop. His laugh was cute, you found. It started as a grumble in his chest and then brightened up like the sky after a thunderstorm. In all honesty, though, you found pretty much everything about Sam cute in a way. The blue-green of his eyes that reminded you of a cool lake on a hot summer day, the mess of hair that in all actuality was carefully styled every morning; the small freckles that had darkened over the summer season.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you hadn’t quite realized that you had started to wander towards Sam until he called out for you. “Hey, farmer! Comin’ to spend time with me?” His eyes were sparkling softly, and the smile on his lip was one of such warmth and genuineness that it made your head spin. The words you had oh so carefully sorted out and mulled about were seemingly picked up by their roots, put in a small container, and violently shaken around, just to be lost somewhere in your head, your tongue twisting into several knots all by itself.

You felt your hands getting clammy around the fruit they were holding, your cheeks heating up as an uncomfortable feeling travelled down your spine. You must have looked like an idiot; you sure felt like one. But if you did, Sam didn’t seem to care – quite the opposite. He seemed excited that you were here, inviting, even.   You opened your mouth to tell him something, to at least try to find some words to start a conversation, but it appeared that your tongue took your mouth opening as a sign to twist even more. Panic arose in you, even though the blond’s smile had such a soothing energy that it almost lured you out of your shyness. Almost. Instead of answering him, or even speaking in general, you thrust the cactus fruit in Sam’s lap, turned on your heel, and ran off.

Sam’s head tilted to the side as he watched you run off, eyes slowly falling onto the fruit on his lap. He had been genuinely excited to spend some time with you; the farmer who seemed to ghost around town, the farmer that seemed to never speak; the farmer who was so adorable and cute and sweet that it made his heart swell. The farmer that he had been trying to coax out of their shell but had never succeeded. Or at least that was what he had thought until now. One day he had met you at the beach and, as it was his nature, struck up a conversation with you. Well, in reality, it had been a monologue. You had been digging your feet around the sand and were fiddling with a seashell while he had been talking about pretty much everything that popped into his head. At some point, he had mentioned how much he loved cactus fruits and how he would love to have one again one day. And now it was on his lap, which meant…You hadn’t been uninterested. You had actually been listening. And you cared.  

You also remembered that day at the beach fondly. You had been intrigued by Sam’s ability to talk, by not having to think about his words fifteen times like you did. He made you feel a little easier, even though your body language didn’t show that once. Yet Sam’s attitude towards you didn’t change, he kept up the friendly tone in his voice, the warm smile in your direction. Plus, you were thankful. Thankful that someone other than Robin or Mayor Lewis talked to you; that someone else started a conversation. It had meant something to you, something so sincere that you held it dear.

Really, it wasn’t like you didn’t want social interaction. It just didn’t come naturally to you, and people often didn’t have enough patience to allow you to warm up to them. Sam, however, seemed like he had.

Really, it wasn’t like you didn’t want social interaction. It just didn’t come naturally to you, and people often didn’t have enough patience to allow you to warm up to them. Sam, however, seemed like he did. That was the reason you tried to show him that you were interested. That you did want to get to know him. Yet since you were lacking words, actions needed to suffice.  

The next time you found Sam he was at the beach again, the hot summer sun having reddened his cheeks – or perhaps it was the exhaustion from running after Vincent, who just didn’t seem to be affected by the heat at all. You looked at the blue, cooled-down can in your hand, a smile on your face. You had the feeling your gift would come over well.

Sam had just plopped down on the hot sand, stretching out his aching legs when a shadow suddenly casted over him. His eyes snapped up, and the smile that followed could have definitely been able to compete with the sun. “Hey. Lookin’ very cute today. The sun ain’t gettin’ to you?” An attempt to charm you, a weak one – he didn’t want to scare you away, after all, such a delicate thing like you -, but an attempt, nonetheless. It bared results with you that the sun hadn’t achieved. Your cheeks heated up, some of the redness spreading down to your throat and wrapping around your neck like a warm hand. You gave Sam the only thing you could muster; a smile. You handed the cold can to him, and before there was even a chance to open up the conversation, you were stalking back toward town. “Thanks!” Sam called after you, the smile on his lips still there, only dying down when he realized you wouldn’t come back.

That’s how your game went; you would find Sam and hand him a gift. The blond would smile and thank you, but before he could start talking more, you were gone. Some days you felt more confident than usual, some days you had your words ready again. But his smile? That stunning, pretty, sunshine and moonlight smile? It always made these words tumble down your throat, blocking any sort of noise from ever escaping again. That was the point when you just smiled back at him and vanished, making a beeline for the way you had just come from.

From the outside, it seemed like you kept your cool about this. But your journal held the truth; that you just didn’t know how to talk to him. That you just didn’t know how to overcome this. Whenever when you were close to him, seeing that radiant look on his face, smelling that scent of vanilla and cola, feeling these feelings everything around you seemed to crumble. Everything within you crumbled. The confidence, the intent to really make it happen, to actually talk to him today.  

The only thing that kept you trying was the fact that Sam didn’t appear to lose his patience with you, quite the opposite. He became more open with you, telling you that you looked good, that your smile was pretty today. He tried to talk more to you, telling you that you looked good, that your smile was pretty today, that the crops that came from your farm were delicious – he talked as much as he could before you would plant whatever gift you had brought him in his lap and then wandering off.

And really – Sam did try his best, after all, you were worth it to him. You seemed like a genuinely good person, with eyes so pretty that he got lost in them every time he had been able to catch them. You caring enough about him to find him every day and give him his gifts made him want to try harder, help you feel comfortable enough around him to speak to him.  Sam had simply never been in a situation where someone didn’t talk to him. Usually, he talked long enough and with such an energy that he lulled most people into a conversation, but not with you. Which meant he would need to try a different route.

He had heard you coming before he could have seen you. The smile was already lingering on his lips as he turned to you. You held a cactus fruit in his hand, a look of surprise fleeting over your face. Had he been waiting for you? “Hey. Had a good day today?”  He asked, now turning around completely so he could face you more easily. You gave him a sheepish smile and tried to hand him the cactus fruit, but instead of just taking it, Sam dropped something small in your hand. “Thank you,” he grinned, giving you a wink.

You swallowed thickly, your fist clenching around the object he had given you as you headed back to your farm.

You were panting when you had reached your front porch, but that didn’t mean that your curiosity didn’t get the better of you. Slowly opening your fingers, you saw a rectangle of white. Upon closer inspection, you found that it was a folded piece of paper. Your fingers were trembling as you tried to unwrap it. Was he going to tell you to leave you alone? Had he realized you were weird and wanted you to stay away from him?

The sloppy handwriting that greeted you would have made you chuckle if it hadn’t been for the anxiety cursing through you. But the words were…soothing. Warm- like his smile. “Hey, I realized you don’t like to talk much. So maybe I thought you would like to trade notes while I take you on a date to the beach? I will be there tomorrow at 6.”

Your heart swelled in your chest – maybe there really was someone that would understand you, other than your journal. Someone was willing to give you a chance like this.

The blond of his hair appeared to be of golden colour as the setting sun caught it in its soft embrace. Sam was sitting on a blanket he had spread out in the sand, his face stretched towards the warmth he could still find in the sky, only turning his head when he heard you approach. As you got closer, you could see that Sam had been true to his word; different coloured pieces of paper were sitting on the blanket next to him; he had even brought a pencil case of markers. He gave you a smile and a gentle wave as you sat down next to him.

For a moment, you weren’t sure what to do. Was this a joke? Maybe he would just make fun of you? What if he grew tired of it quickly? A note, folded like an airplane, landed on your lap. The author carried a grin of pride, giving you two thumbs up.

 “So, does a farmer have hobbies? Or are you too busy for them?” A smile folded on your lips, fingers wrapping around a pen, ready to do what you knew you could do; without the twist of tongue, without a stutter, without having to worry your words would get lost on the way.

The stack of paper had become considerably small as you were sitting in silence. The sun had set, and the pale light of the moon illuminating the beach made it hard to write. But it felt comfortable to just sit next to Sam and…exist. Sam had asked you about yourself, and whenever he had read your replies, he had looked at you and nodded, just to go back to reading. His tongue had been sticking out when he wrote, and his eyes had always been gauging your reaction when you read his replies; drinking up each smile, each snort, each giggle, each reaction. But right now, he was content with just being next to you, and not hearing you run away from him.

What he didn’t expect was a small voice next to him, unsure, and yet firm. “Thank you, Sam.”

[rreskk]

COME EARLIER

Summary: You and Trevor had this weekly fling. Though this time, it made him want to see you more. Almost daily.

TW: Smut

Pairings: Fem!reader/Trevor Philips

Word count: 1667

A one-timer turned into a weekly routine of intertwining with this angry dealer who lived a few minutes from your trailer. Though you never mingled with methamphetamine – or any drug in general – you had known him from mutual connections. Everyone in Sandy Shores knows everyone. And you knew of him, meeting him through a small social event in which he lured you by the tip of his finger and proceeded to adventure deep in his truck from dusk till dawn. Until you could barely see.

Then throughout the pleasures of knowing him, you had moved from his truck to his bed, to your bed, to your car, to the yard, to the back of his liquor store; anywhere that provides decent amount of privacy for you both to get down dirty and hard.

You approached his door and heard faint arguing from inside. Occasionally you’d catch him at the wrong moments, which is no biggie since he usually “expressed” this anger through you, and your pussy. So, keeping on that note, you walked in, the smell of his living conditions punching your nose senselessly. No matter the familiarity of his place, the smell always caught you off-guard.

“Are listening to me, Ron?” You heard him shout the moment you stepped foot inside, “Are you hearing me? We got fuckin’ weapons to sell, not pussies to stroke.”

Trevor was leaning against the kitchen cabinet before glancing over to the open door. He made eye-contact with you, his face stoic but his body language changed freely. He stood straight and reached for your wrist. The door closed behind you as he held you to his hip.

“The pay is worth it and your divorce settlements will be covered.” He lastly noted before brushing his hand to your waist.

Ronald looked defeated and accepted the snarky debates ushered by Trevor. He returned to his thoughts, sitting on the rotten sofa with not much else to say. Which was better. Silence greeted the mess of his trailer and Trevor finally traced his focus upon your presence, his arm looping around your hip, fingers resting above your back pockets.

“Didn’t hear you comin’, sugar.” His breath tickled the back of your ear.

“I hope this isn’t the wrong time?” You’d ask, giving Ron a small smile but he was too busy contemplating.

“When is there ever a wrong time?” Trevor said with minor offence as he repositioned you standing in front of him. His eyes were playful yet harsh. He scanned your body then patted your lower back firmly. “Looks like we got some business to attend to.”

Ron’s face lit up at the mention of business and blindly stood to his feet when Trevor raised a hand.

“Not you, Ronnie. We continue our business later. I’ve got an appointment with gorgeous right here.” He snickered while pushing you towards his bedroom.

“Oh, but you said – “

“Save it! I got fuckin’ priorities, Ronald! Have some manners!”

“Right… Right…” Ron muttered in response and watched his boss disappear within the bedroom doorway, cringing when he heard the bed creak. He knew at that moment to leave as he didn’t want to experience another one of your sessions.

Trevor had peeled off your jeans when you fell onto the bed. He was grinning widely and threw them aside before reaching for your top. As per usual, he was desperate and wasted no time. You had grown used to this roughness, hearing slight tears as he tore it from your upper body, the piece of clothing joining with your pair of jeans on the dirty carpeted floor.

“There she is…” He purred once grasping your bare hips with his needy hands.

“Long morning?” You asked, adjusting the panties so it fell to your ankles..

He ignored your question for a good minute as he was too busy rubbing his thumb against your inner thigh. He was inspecting your wetness, grunting when you came prepared already; horny as a skunk and loose to his preference.

“You could say that,” Trevor finally muttered while taking off his own jeans. “You shoulda come earlier. It would’ve saved me from that prick…”

The mention of “that prick” made you realise he had already left. Ron was nowhere to be seen or heard, so you gazed at Trevor with a small smile, watching his skin become completely naked to your liking. His hairy chest and defined waist complimenting the broadness of his strong shoulders. The strength was really prominent when he spread your legs open, pussy exposed and facing his reddened cock – familiar but hungry – as it was already hard. Which wasn’t surprising. Trevor was always turned on.

“I was too busy.” You simply stated.

“Too busy for me?” He pulled you into his cock, the sheets creasing at the violent movements.

Your response was interrupted with a faint moan. Trevor waited until he sat comfortably inside you before kneading your waist and staring ahead for your answer. He didn’t like feeling misplaced.  

“I had things to do.” You’d whisper.

His brows twitched at your excuse. He began thrusting outwards, slamming his hips back into yours. A grunt bellowed before he sneered out of disgust. “What else should be on your agenda today? Is this not good enough?”

“No – “

“Next time…” Trevor leaned forward, his chin resting on your bra as he glared up, “Next time… Come earlier, sugar. Come earlier.” And he thrusted again, still breathing into your chest.

It took all words out of your mouth. As he came back inside you, his breath totalled the sensations. Your breasts swelled with lust, almost begging to be freed so he could treat them as trophies and diamonds. Besides, his mood switched up so fast that you barely found stability, only running on his next unpredictable move. It was enlightening and you expressed that through noises; gasping his name whenever he thrusted in again.

“God… You’re gonna make me cum so easy.” He grunted – blaming you – but almost praising how good you made him feel. His tone was falling, his spitefulness replaced with breathless concentration.

You tried to hold yourself together as he continued fucking you. The mattress holding you both began to shudder and shake. It creaked, the springs working harder to hold your weight with Trevor’s force. It made you feel like you were resting on clouds.

“Ngh! – “ Trevor moaned. His hands moved from your hips to your chest. He gripped them through your bra. Gripping them harshly, needing extra softness while he fucked you.

“Trevor…” You attempted to catch his attention through wary whines. He opened his eyes at your calls. Once catching his attention, you swatted his hands off and shakingly unclipped your bra, the straps falling from your shoulders and gradually exposing your breasts. They were already red from his grabby hands, bouncing with his pace, psychologically calling his name with how vacant they looked without his touch.

He found the sudden momentum to lift one of your legs to his shoulders so he was fully expected inside you. This had utterly destroyed your comfort zone. You moaned his name suddenly and grabbed onto his wrists as he finally reached for your breasts. They were the perfect size for his palm. Trevor grinned animalistically, treating your chest like a stress toy.

“Oh, fuck.” Still, you proceeded to face the unmatched aggression of his fucking. The skin-to-skin affection echoed throughout the trailer. When you were catching your breath, the only noise was his grunting and your hips slapping together in a timely manner.

“Perfect fuckin’ tits…” Trevor mumbled lowly. He enjoyed the feeling of your leg resting against his shoulder while the other wrapped itself around his waist. You were completely infatuated by his deep friction and he loved, loved, LOVED it.

This passed by another minute and the heat was quickly catching up to Trevor. He was getting extra hard and looked at you for support and reassurance since he wasn’t going to last, though he wanted to live in this moment longer. His lips wobbled and his eyes rolled back. Usually this would’ve been an issue – if you weren’t close – but you were. Only rarely you ever shared an orgasm and the pulsing state of your pussy suggests you were edging closer, thanks to his aggressive and deep thrusts.

“Mm… Fuck, Trevor…” Your grip on his wrists tightened.

This was the encouragement he needed. He nodded at your moans, thrusting harder until it became unbearable. Your soaking cunt greeted him freely and he slid right inside, hitting a comfortable position and exhaling sharply. It started dripping, then it grew intensity.

“You’re making me cum.” He whimpered when his cock twitched. The sheets underneath you was already damp by your excessive wetness. You carefully grinded into his hip with the cock resting inside. It triggered another reaction and you gritted your teeth together, the cause of heat building by his orgasm. He winced and spoke to you with broken words. “I – I… God! Fuck! M’love you… I love you – shit…”

“Stay inside.” You begged. You wanted him all inside you.

Trevor nodded his head at your request and collapsed on top of your body. His face fell into your breasts and his hands sprawled out. Now he was embracing his orgasm, the fluid rushing out and inside you as wished.

“I love you.” His voice muffled from your chest but you heard him loud and clear. He had this habit, so you thought nothing of it. Especially after his morning. You could tell his release was more than relieving.

It fell silent after the colliding climax.  

“Come early next time…” He breathed out, again. It wasn’t like you could decline. Not like you wanted to decline. Spending a whole morning rotting away with Trevor was everything you wanted.

“Of course.” You agreed – recovering.

“Whatever fuckin’ time… Just come. I’m always free for a good time…”

“Okay, Trev.”

“Tomorrow?”

You sighed before speaking. “Yes. Okay, Trev.”

[gt-needs]

oh my goodness gracious how I haven’t found your blog sooner BUT WE’RE MOOTS⁉️ SO COOL HSDJSJSH love your stuff bruh your poses are giving me LIFEE 😫

also i see reqs are open,, can I get a uh uh um giant and tiny having a conflict? like pointing fingers or just going down mano y mano if ykwim 👊👊💥 I need some strife tonight haha, but if not all good keep up the great work!! Just comin by to let ya know YOURE GREAT‼️🫵

“ᴵ’ᵛᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᶦᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ⁻ᵎ”

“Up to Huh?!… Up to what!. Say it!!”

((I had a bit of issues capturing the angles in the video so I hope it’s useable. I keep forgetting that G/t exist outside of fluff and I like to tap into slight angst from time to time. But it’s ok they always make up 😅 thank you so much for the encouragement mutual 🥰 challenging but fun! Let me know if you have suggestions/adjustments.))

[takeurexam]

what are we? choi beomgyu x reader

(part two)

part 1 here

tw: fluff, highschool love, mutual pinning, ew people in love, ALOT of talking, part 2 is shorter

<_________________________________________>

"Psst, pssst!" Who was that? Its so early....

"Pssssstttt..." Okay, now they're getting noisy.

You open your eyes which reveals a young man with brown hair and brown eyes with his sweet smile plastered on his face.

"Beomgyu?" You wipe your eyes in disbelief to see if you were still dreaming or not, which in fact, you were not.

"Morning, lazy." You raise a brow as he giggles and steps away from your face; you sit up on your bed and process everything. It was Saturday, June 1, currently seven o'clock in the morning.

His visuals were even better in the morning, what a sight to see Beomgyu with his eyes puffy in the morning. And this made you realize that he did indeed just wake up.

"Why are you here? Wait. How did you get in? My parents are still asleep! What the hell!" You scream but not loud enough for your parents to hear. (you cant risk beomgyu getting kicked out, you dont wsnt him to go away)

"Shhhh, quiet down." He walks closer to you and sits on your bed beside you. You raise a brow at him and he smirks, "I have my ways- OW!" You hit him on his back.

"Im joking, your mom is awake. I already told her yesterday that I would be comin over early. I almost got hold of your house keys.." He chuckles.

It was scary how your mom trusted him so much. She always mentions him whenever she sees another young boy that is also our neighbor. "Thats the son of Mrs. Ha? Eh... Beomgyu's more handsome." Or a "Look at our new neighbor, but dont get too close with him! Dont leave Beomgyu."

"Of course. My mom loves you too much." You sigh and stand up. "Now, why are you here?"

He dosent reply for a little while and just looks at you as he sits on your chair, then speaks up, "Im here because the two of us are going out."

.....

"What?"

"What? Is there a problem?" He smirks, "I can just leave.

"Wait, no! You can stay." You pull his wrist towards you, "I would love to! Super! Oh, I mean, I'm happy, but!-" He cuts you off by closing your mouth (gently) and snickers, "Okay, okay, I get you. Dont be nervous, its just me." He chuckles.

You were flustered as hell right now. The way he was so amused seeing you all shy made you flustered. "Why are you so flustered? Were just going out!" He laughs hard.

"Where do we go?" You ask, as you avoid his question which he raises a brow at before thinking, "I wanna take you to the park." He answers with a grin.

"What a friendly outing." You snicker.

"Hey! Dont run off without me!" You laugh as he shouts at you while you both run across the park. "Your mother will kill me!" He laughs while shouting.

You run away a little more before sitting down on the soft grass, which Beomgyu sees before he dives towards you and locks you in his grasp.

"Gotcha." He giggles as he locks you into a hug as you laugh hard until you cant breathe, "Beomgyu!" Both of you share a good laugh.

"Are you going to let go?" You look up at him as your head lays on his shoulder with his arms around you.

"What do you want me to do?" He asks.

"What you want to do." You shrug as you continue laying on his shoulder, which makes him smile. "I think we both know what we want." He chuckles.

Beomgyu looks at you for a moment- you were a sight for him. You laughing with your teeth showing and your eyes shutting because you laughed so hard made him realize how comfortable you were around him.

He isint a clingy person around his girl friends, but it looks like you were the only exception among all.

"Beomgyu." You look at him.

"Yeah?" He looks back at you, the both of you staring into each others face.

"What exactly are we?" You question.

"What do you want us to be?" Beomgyu brushes away your hair covering your face that was something only he would see- well, your close friends, but mostly him.

You look at him like you were observing something at an museum. You were trying to read his mind or whatever, yet also thinking about how you two look corny as hell in the public park.

"Hey, I like you." You smile, "Im sorry, im not good with confessions." He chuckles at your reaction.

"So you've been telling me all those love lessons with Soobin was useless in the end?" He laughs, "I feel the same way." He smiles widely at you which you replicate.

"Ew. Never ask Soobin for love advice, he cant pull." You say as you share a laugh with Beomgyu.

"Uh huh. Stop slandering your pres, be kinder." He ruffles your hair. "Dont snitch me out." You say to Beomgyu, "I'll choke you." He snickered at your remark.

You both looked stupid laying down in the grass, but neither of you cared. Enjoying moments together was one thing you liked with Beomgyu, because he was such a nice person to be around with.

And you hope your happiness lasts long.

____________________________________________]

a/n: sorry for taking too long to release this from my drafts teehe expect more to come! probably taehyuns gonna be next and gonna be historical (mr queen inspired bc i love mr queen)

[teaberrii]

Chapter 19: Something to Hide

After ending a five-year relationship, you pour all your energy into work. Your latest assignment? Staying at a popular bed-and-breakfast to gather information. It should be a piece of cake... If only the owner isn't the man you scolded on the street.

Jing Yuan/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

“Sounds like now isn’t a good time.”

He must've heard the overlapping conversations. You look over your shoulder where Yanqing is eating with the rest of the kids. You face forward and walk to a quieter part of the yard.

“What do you want?”

"A chat. One that will work to your advantage. I know all about your little detective games, but you should stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. It won't do you any good."

"I don't know how much you know," you say flatly. "But, it sure sounds like you're scared of us finding out more, which means you have a lot to hide, don't you?"

He quietly scoffs. "As I said, let's have a chat… and you'll see why. It's about your dear 'ol Jing Yuan. Tell me... How much has he really told you about himself?"

This man’s bluffing. He’ll say anything and everything just to get the upper hand. You should know after all that you found out.

“You haven’t known each other for very long,” he continues. 

Someone tugs at your shirt, and you look down and see Yanqing.

“...I'll give you until tonight to think about it.”

Then, the line goes dead.

You lift the phone away from your ear, and then Yanqing asks:

“Who was that?”

You give him a small, tight smile as you slip your phone into your pocket. “No one. Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh… Okay. Well, I saved you some food!”

You follow Yanqing back to the table, determined not to let the conversation get the best of you. But you can still hear that man’s voice in the back of your mind:

“...Tell me... How much has he really told you about himself?”

You’re eating the food Yanqing got you when one of the moms comes up beside you. “I’ve never seen you around here before… Where are you from?”

“The city.”

You’re about to take a bite of a mini bread roll when she asks, “Is that where you met Jing Yuan?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Oh, well, it’s just… he met his ex-wife in the city through a mutual friend. I was so shocked it didn’t work out. They were such a loving couple, and—”

“You seem to be very interested in his life.”

"Ah, well…" You know she's uncomfortable when she breaks the awkward eye contact. "He seems like a great guy, and—"

"He is."

"Oh, I didn't mean that he wasn't! We were classmates, you know. We pretty much grew up together. And I just..." She gets the hint when you go back to eating your food without even looking at her anymore. You hear her walk away, and then you take a bite of your food.

“Hey.” Seels walks up to you with a small plate of her own. “Hope you still have some of your sanity left.”

“I’d rather deal with the kids than the parents if I’m being honest,” you mutter.

Seele chuckles. “Pros and cons to both.” She subtly nods at the woman who has just spoken to you. “Was she asking you about Jing Yuan?”

“How did you know?”

"She likes to brag that she was classmates with him. Weird flex, considering he's not a celebrity, and all of us pretty much know him."

“Yeah, well, it’s cause he’s rich.” You turn to the other side and see Bronya sipping orange juice from a wine glass. “Don’t judge.”

“Where can I get one?”

Bronya chuckles. “Comin’ right up.” She puts her glass on the counter.

"I want one, too," Seele says.

Just then, you feel your phone buzz inside your pocket.

General: I’m on my way.

"Jing Yuan's coming?" Seele asks just as Bronya returns with two wine glasses and a tub of orange juice.

“Yeah.”

“Well, the man’s got fifteen minutes before the party’s officially over,” Bronya says, filling the glasses.

Once she passes you a glass, you ask, “Do you mind if I ask how the two of you met?”

"We were at the same orphanage." Well, you aren't expecting that. "We met when we were like… seven in Xianzhou. Got adopted by different families."

"We went our separate ways for years before we somehow ended up working at the same company together," Seele says.

“That definitely sounds like fate,” you say.

“We didn’t know at first,” Bronya says, chuckling. “We even got off on the wrong foot.”

"She accused me of the one stealing snacks from the lounge." Seele rolls her eyes. "Proved my innocence later by presenting evidence."

“How did you two end up back here?”

"We were caught up in the massive layoffs that one year." Bronya finishes her orange juice. "The job market was hell on earth, and after months of looking we just… stopped."

“To clarify, we thought that taking a mental break would help us get our energy back,” Seele says. “So, we came up here for vacation. Loved it. And thought…”

“Hey, why don’t we start a business together?”

“And that’s how we started a mechanic business.”

“Just like that?" you ask. "Wow. What a jump! From corporate to mechanic.”

"I work on the vehicles," Bronya says. Then, she nods toward Seele. "She does all the business and administrative stuff. It really was an interesting jump," Bronya says, "but it was related. Our last job was with a company producing electric cars."

“Still…” You and Bronya turn to Seele who’s looking at the counter. “There are times when I miss the corporate life though.”

“I called her crazy,” Bronya whispers to you. “There’s so much freedom in running your own business and doing your own thing.”

"I never said it was bad," Seele says. "Just… It felt pretty daunting in the beginning. But after things settled down, we adopted Clara, and continued hustling from there."

"Um… How did you cope with that, if I may ask? You know... the insecurity and uncertainty in the beginning?"

Bronya looks at you curiously, but it's Seele who asks, "Is this just out of curiosity or are you looking for advice?"

The sound of the doorbell echoes throughout the house.

"That must be our guest of honour," Bronya says loudly. "Didn't all you people want to see Jing Yuan?"

Some kids and parents follow Seele to the door.

As soon as she opens the door, she says, “Good to see you, Jing Yuan.”

“I hope I’m not too late.” He holds up a small present. “I thought Clara might like this.”

“Dad!”

“Hi, Jing Yuan!”

You watch as some kids surround him like he’s a celebrity. He affectionately ruffles Yanqing's hair and politely greets everyone else before his eyes land on you.

Seele gestures for Clara to come up. "Come look at what Uncle Jing Yuan got you, Clara."

Jing Yuan crouches as Clara shyly walks up to him. “U-Um, hello.”

“Happy birthday, Clara.”

She takes the gift with both hands and says, “T-Thank you.”

"Why are you suddenly so shy?" Seele asks, putting her hand on Clara's shoulder. "You've seen him plenty of times."

Clara looks up at her mom and quietly says, “...But not this close.”

Seele laughs. “And what does he look like up close?”

Clara is looking down when she quietly says, “...Handsome.” Then, she quickly runs off with some of the kids, including Yanqing, running after her.

Jing Yuan stands as Seele says, “Thanks for the gift.” She laughs. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

Everyone else starts walking back into the living room, but Jing Yuan walks with you. You’re itching to bring up what Caelus’s uncle said to you, but now isn’t the time nor the place. So, you do your best to shrug off the thought before it eats you alive.

◆◆◆

“He wouldn’t kill someone.” March scrolls to the next page and continues her dramatic reading of Welt’s manuscript. “I’ve known him far longer than you have, my dear. The detective that you’ve grown to love… Has a dark side eating away at him every. Single. Day…” She looks up. “The periods really give it that extra oomph.”

The trio are sitting in their cabin living room, taking a rest day as it's forecasted to rain. Almost thirty minutes ago, it had been just March and Dan Feng. They were playing a board game as their friends were holed up in their rooms. Welt—with his laptop—was the first to emerge from his den and had asked his friends to read the latest plot twist in his novel.

"So, what comes next?" Dan Feng asks. "Don't tell me our Ms. Femme Fatale is just going to leave our ace detective after all they've been through."

“Yeah, don’t leave us hanging, Welt!”

Welt takes his laptop from March and puts it on the table. “The story will get there.”

Dan Feng has a little smile when he asks, "Is that code for 'Sorry, guys. I have no idea what's next. Still figuring that out?"

“No spoilers.”

"Whatever it is… I just need a happy ending!" Then, March sees Dan Heng coming downstairs. "Look who decided to come out of hibernation. What have you been doing all morning?"

“...Researching schools.”

Welt and March glance at each other before looking at Dan Feng. Ever since lunch with you and Jing Yuan, March hasn’t seen the brothers talk. When Welt noticed something was wrong, March explained what had happened.

"Have you decided on one?" Then, Dan Heng says the name of the most prestigious university in the nation. "Why am I not surprised?" March asks.

“Go big or go home,” Welt adds. “But, they’d be crazy not to take you.”

"I've already started my application," Dan Heng says, opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water. "Hopefully, I can make it for their winter semester."

Dan Heng has just closed the fridge when his brother asks:

"How long is the program?"

Silence.

He looks around the room. "What? Everyone else is allowed to ask questions but me?"

“Two years, part-time. One year, full-time.” Dan Heng walks over. “...Is there a date for your surgery?”

“It’d be around the same time you start your semester… if you get in.”

March sighs. “Why can’t you two just hug it out like real men?”

“Oh, I don’t know, March. Maybe it’s cause my brother has cooties.”

Dan Heng sits next to Welt. “...What’s going on between you two?”

March and Dan Feng look at each other. “What do you mean?” she asks.

Welt closes his laptop. "I sensed it, too. Something seems… different about you two."

“Oh, I get it.” March’s quick laugh turns into a deadpan look. “I might’ve gotten a few wrinkles because this guy”—she hits Dan Feng’s leg—”is like an adult child who can’t take care of himself.”

“Me? Are you sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

Dan Heng sighs. “Why can’t you two just hug it out like a real couple?”

March and Dan Feng turn to him with an appalled look.

“Why is your face turning red, March?” Welt asks.

"It's not!"

Dan Heng and Welt smile at each other.

Then, March quickly stands. "...I'm going out to buy some drinks before it really starts to pour." She walks beside Welt. "Come with me."

“Me? Uh, okay.” Welt stands and looks at the brothers. “Want us to get you anything?”

“Skittles frappucinno.”

March looks slightly disgusted at Dan Feng's request. "What in the world is that? Sounds like diabetes in a cup."

“It’s you if you were a drink.”

“...Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Welt asks quietly.

“Anything for the cooler brother?” March asks, looking at Dan Heng and Dan Feng almost rolls his eyes.

“I’m good.”

“Well, shoot a text if you want us to get you anything.”

Then, Welt and March are out the door.

After a short silence, Dan Heng says, “...I understand why you’re upset. I would be, too, but—”

“I get it.” Dan Feng isn’t looking at his brother. “I’d hate it if you forced yourself to do something you don’t want to do. Everyone suffers that way.” A small pause. “...I’ll cheer you on.”

“...And I’ll do the same for you.”

“Cheer me on for what? Recovery?” Dan Feng waves his hand dismissively. “If you’re going to do that, might as well be my butler while I recover.”

“Are you sure you don’t want that job to go to March?”

“Listen, that girl will probably be flying to a different country this same time next year.”

“...Is that why you want to stay friends with her?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Dan Heng says as his brother looks away. Then, Dan Heng stands. “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”  He walks to the kitchen but stops halfway and looks over his shoulder. “...I know you aren’t looking for advice, but I’m going to say it for March’s sake. Talk to her. At least, there’ll be no misunderstandings.”

Dan Heng knows his brother likes to poke fun at his advice, but this time he remains silent.

◆◆◆

Yanqing is asleep in the backseat when Jing Yuan is driving back to the bed and breakfast.

“...Caelus’s uncle called me today,” you say, after making sure Yanqing’s still asleep.

“What did he want?”

“A chat. He didn’t go into details… No surprise there. But, he mentioned you.” A small pause. “...He asked me how well I really knew you, and how much you told me about yourself.”

You don’t know, but there’s a quiet anger that’s bubbling beneath Jing Yuan’s calm exterior. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised that Caelus’s uncle is trying to interfere with his relationship.

“I obviously know better than to just believe him, but I admit it’s been bothering me and…”

“...It’s what he wants.” Jing Yuan takes your hand that’s resting on your lap. “...And, I think I know what he’s going to say.”

You turn to him, surprised. Hang on. Does this mean there is a secret? Neither of you gets a chance to say anything when Yanqing yawns.

“What did I miss?” he asks sleepily.

“Nothing.”

Yanqing looks from you to Jing Yuan but doesn’t say anything and looks out the window. Then, your phone buzzes, and you pull it out.

Have you decided?

You glance at Jing Yuan, and then another message comes.

Time's ticking.

You had to resist blocking this number.

“This is getting fucking ridiculous,” you mutter.

“What is it?”

Jing Yuan pulls up to the bed and breakfast, and Yanqing asks, “Are we walking Mom back?”

You turn around and put on your best smile. “Shall we go?”

Once Jing Yuan parks the car and all of you step out, Yanqing goes on ahead. You quickly show Jing Yuan the ominous text, and he says:

“...I’m going to call him.”

There’s an anger in his voice that you cannot explain. A lion ready to pounce. A dragon awakening. Whatever it is, it’s reflected in his glare.

It doesn’t take long for the line to go through.

“What’s taking so long?” You quickly walk up to Yanqing, preventing him from getting close enough to hear the heated conversation. “...Why does Dad look so angry?”

You crouch and gently turn Yanqing’s head toward you. “Don’t worry. He’s dealing with a customer.”

“O-Oh…”

“Everything will be fine. Trust Mom, okay?”

Yanqing slowly nods and hugs you.

When you hear footsteps approaching you, you turn and see Jing Yuan. But, another voice comes:

“Yanqing.”

You stand upright as Jing Yuan’s ex and her fianceé walk up to you. Yanqing looks from his birth mother to you and back to her.

Her fianceé looks at Jing Yuan. “...Wasn't expecting to see you here, but thanks for taking care of that problem earlier.”

Problem?

You turn to him, and Jing Yuan says, “A guest was causing issues for everyone else.”

Then, his ex looks at you. “...Has he contacted you yet?”

"So, you were the one who gave him my number," you say flatly. 

“Wow. What’s going on?” March and Welt are walking together, and as they get closer, you see Welt carrying a small bag of drinks. “This can’t be a family outing, right?”

"What did he want with you?" Jing Yuan asks his ex. "...Just her number?"

March and Welt glance at each other, and then she leans over. “Hey, Yanqing, let’s leave them with the boring adult talk.” She reaches into the bag and pulls out a snack. “Let’s eat on our way back.”

Yanqing runs to March and says, “Oh, but I’m not hungry. I just came from a birthday party.” “A birthday party? Whose?”

March and Yanqing start walking ahead, and Welt follows close behind.

Jing Yuan’s ex looks at him. “Yes. That was all he asked about.”

“...Why are you asking?”

Her fianceé had just come out of the bathroom, and he saw her on the phone.

“We’re on the same side,” Caelus’s uncle said.

She knew it was a dumb question, but she still had to ask:

“What are you going to do?”

“Is it just me, or does it sound like you’re worried about your ex’s girlfriend? That’s a rare sight amongst women.” Then, a soft chuckle. “I’m not going to do anything to her if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m going to put an end to this once and for all.”

By turning you against Jing Yuan?

Jing Yuan has the same thoughts when he says, "He's threatening me and aiming to put her in a difficult position." Then, his sharp gaze lands on his ex. “He’s also going to get you involved.”

“Me…? With what? What could he possibly threaten you with? Don’t tell me it has something to do with Yanqing.”

“No.” Jing Yuan looks at her. “And for Yanqing’s sake, you won’t go along with whatever he says because it’ll end up destroying all of us.”

You slide your hand in his, and Jing Yuan turns to you. It’s written all over your face. Worry. Frustration. Confusion. Only he has the answers, and as much as he doesn’t want to hide anything from you, a part of him is afraid of what you will think after he tells you more about his past. Will you blame him just like he once blamed himself? Will you turn your back on him and walk away?

“I heard my name.”

“Geez, Yanqing,” you hear March say as she runs towards the group. “Don’t go running off like that!” Welt is walking behind her.

“They're too slow!” Yanqing turns toward his dad. “What are you talking about?”

You and Jing Yuan glance at each other, and then you say, “We... were talking about how we’re going to take you on vacation with us. March was the one who suggested it.”

March points to herself with mild confusion.

Jing Yuan nods. “It got postponed because Dan Feng went to see Luocha about his shoulder.”

“Ah!" March makes a fist and hits it against her palm. "Yeah, that’s right.”

Yanqing looks from March to Jing Yuan and then to you. “...A vacation? Really?”

“You don’t believe us?” you ask.

“It didn’t sound like you were talking about a vacation.”

The fianceé sighs. “It’s because we wanted to spend time with you.”

You and Jing Yuan turn to him, surprised that he’s playing along.

“...That’s right,” the ex adds. She crouches and puts her hands on her son’s shoulders. “...I miss you, Yanqing. I miss spending time with you.”

He steps back, and the hurt is obvious on her face. But, it’s only for a moment.

“...You're just saying that to get me to go back to the city. But, I don’t want to go back,” he says, not looking at her. “Not forever.”

She exhales softly and asks, “...Are you happy, Yanqing? Are you happy with Jing Yuan and…” She looks at you. “...Her?”

"Yes!" A small pause. “You keep saying that you want to keep me in the city because of my future… but I’m happy right now.”

“...While it’s important to think about the future, it’s just as if not more important to cherish the present.”

March gently nudges Welt. “Stop trynna act all philosophical.”

Jing Yuan’s ex sighs. “...Alright. I understand. But, if you ever change your mind… you know that Mom’s door is always open." A small pause. "Can I get a hug?”

Yanqing takes one step forward, hesitates for a moment, but then walks up and hugs her.

“Is it just me, or did this turn in a direction we never saw coming?” March asks quietly.

“...Just let it be,” you whisper, and Jing Yuan nods.

Eventually, you, Jing Yuan, and Yanqing are walking together towards your cabin. Occasionally, Yanqing runs ahead, leaving you and Jing Yuan at the back.

Jing Yuan’s hand finds yours, and as you turn to him, he says:

“...About what I said earlier, Caelus’s uncle wants you to pick a side."

Your breath gets caught in your throat, and you tighten your grip around his hand. “About that… You said earlier that he’s going to try to put me in a difficult position. What… What did you mean? What’s going on?”

“...Before I left my position as Director, I had a friend interested in taking over my position.”

Jing Yuan and his friend from university were finally catching up on life. His friend had invited him over, and the two men were currently seated adjacent to each other. But what Jing Yuan thought was a reunion between two friends quickly turned into a conversation that would haunt him.

“...So, you’re leaving your company,” he said.

“That’s right.”

His friend cleared his throat. “Have they decided on who’s going to take your place?” He awkwardly scratched his head. " I’m actually looking for another job, and, well…” He didn’t need to go on for Jing Yuan to know where this was going. “...Okay, I’m just going to say it. Could you, well, could you refer and put in a good word for me? That’s allowed, right? Because…”

The rest fell on deaf ears as his friend rambled on and on about how he needed this job, but Jing Yuan didn’t need to hear more because…

“You wouldn’t want to be there.”

His friend stopped talking. “Why not?”

Jing Yuan sighed. “It’s… not as clean as you’d think if you know what I mean.”

“...Are people making up numbers or something?” Then, he lowered his voice. “Is the company losing money? Is that the real reason why you’re leaving?”

“No,” Jing Yuan answered flatly. “There are practices that you wouldn’t want to abide by.”

“...Please, Jing Yuan.” This was a response that Jing Yuan wasn’t expecting. “I… could really use the help.”

Your heart is slowly sinking to your stomach as you listen.

“...I told him the consequences,” Jing Yuan says. “But, he was desperate because of his family’s financial situation.”

“Did you refer him?”

Your phone buzzes. You and Jing Yuan glance at each other before you take out your phone. It buzzes again. Now, you have a message from Kafka and Herta with the same worrying content:

CEO of The Knights B&B accused of ruining a man’s life nearly a decade later

Chapter 20

End notes:

We've finally reached the climax. I was going to end this with a cute little scene where Jing Yuan asks Yanqing if he wants to give you a goodnight kiss. But I decided on this instead.

I think I should just make the grand finalé with someone giving Caelus's uncle a good 'ol punch to the face. Man gets arrested and call it a day LOL

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @immahuman @queencybow @nqctre @grimreapersscythe @winterpein @asakenajustexistshere @sunsethw4

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Where do I begin ?

Songfic!

Alastor x Fem! Reader

Nav !

Note : For context, Alastor & the reader are the same age. Both born 1900. The last two digits of the year is basically their age.

Warnings: Mentions of Racism, Pinning ( mutual ), swearing, 1920’s - 1930’s, Warning: sexual assault, mentions of killing, cannibalism

tags: @littlebatsimagines

Song by : Shirley Bassey

━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━ ( scene changes )

Where do I begin

To tell the story of how great a love can be?

The sweet love story that is older than the sea

The simple truth about the love he brings to me

Where do I start?

1913 : 8th Grade Lunch Date

“ He definitely likes you Y/n.” My friend says as we sit at the table eating our lunch. On one side of the field, are tables for the white kids. On the other side, are little spots of cement where the colored kids sit. In the middle, is a lot of grass, where there’s a large tree in the middle. Under said tree, is Alastor, the schools outcast, but one of the smartest kids out there. Alastor stuck out like a sore thumb, poor thing was never dark enough to sit with the colored kids, but the white kids never wanted anything to do with him because he was mixed.

White father, black mother. It was the talk of the town when his momma was pregnant. When he was born, it was all anyone would do. As time went on, he joined the local school, and studied hard. He didn’t have many friends, and everyone always stood away from him. Regardless, he always wore that lovely smile that his teachers praised him for. He was a good kid, just not with the right crowd.

“ I don’t know. He doesn’t seem like he does.” I said, before my friend rolled her eyes, taking her lunch out of her bag.

“ Well even if he doesn’t, best not talk to ‘em again. Y’know your daddy will have you at it if he finds out you been talking to a colored boy.” My friend says, giving me that ‘ don’t do nothing stupid’ look. At that , I stare over at him, watching him eating his lunch. Around him is a small blanket, napkins and forks and knives being used ad he eats his lunch, and I smile to myself as he enjoys his meal.

“ I know I know. I’ll be fine, and he will too. We just don’t need to talk to each other.” I said, taking a bite of my sandwich.

“ Or you could give that fella a chance.” She said, before nodding her head over to one of the nearby tables.

Tommy, or also known as Thomas Vanguard. One of the richest white kids, despite our economy going down in flames.

“ Uh, I don’t really know.” I said, before she laughed.

“ Well too late, he’s already comin’ over.” She said, before my eyes widened. As I turned, I saw Tommy walking over. Oh please no. I was about to get up and walk away when I felt someone sit across from me on the bench. My friend and I turned in our seats to see who was there, it surely wasn’t Tommy.

Silence. The entire courtyard went silent.

Alastor was sitting at my table. Where all the white kids sat. Where colored kids couldn’t sit.

Until now.

“ AHH! Alastor sat at my table!” My lunch mate yelled, grabbing her lunch and running from our table. All the other kids gave the same reaction, running away to our fancy school building. I sat still, staring at him as everyone else ran away.

“ Hello.” I say, extending my hand out to shake. His eyes brightened, before he shook my hand eagerly. “ Momma says not to let people sit alone. “ I say, as I pick up my sandwich to continue eating.

“ Your momma sounds nice.” Alastor says, fixing his glasses. His skin is a caramel color, his brown hair swooped neatly to the sides and out of his face. His cheeks give a light blush, likely from the Louisiana heat.

“ I like to think she is. She can be mean sometimes though.” I say, chewing my food. Alastor smiles, before he continues his food as well. The lunch period goes smoothly from there out.

Even though the day after all the kids stood away from me because I was ‘dirty.’

Like a summer rain

That cools the pavement with a patent leather shine

He came into my life and made the living fine

And gave a meaning to this empty world of mine

He fills my heart

1915 : Highschool Newspaper

News: Black boys 12 and 13 lynched and hung at local park.

It’s all anyone’s talking about. Mainly because their brother’s been raging to the police since the whole thing happened. My best friend Mandy told me. Of course she would know, she’s his girlfriend. But no one knows.

It technically isn’t even allowed. A white girl with a black boy? It’s completely unheard of. But Mandy keeps it strictly secret. They’re never caught with one another, and even add extra arguments in public here and there to add some belief.

But I know it isn’t true. I also know that Alastor is gonna write an entire report down on it, and talk to me like if he’s one of those big fancy radio hosts I heart Tommy talk about during lunch.

“ My Daddy got my momma this cool radio, and it has this guy talking in it. It’s so cool, he sounds like a yankee.” Is usually what Tommy always says, and then he tells everyone what the radio guy says about the North.

━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━

“ Oh M’ so sorry miss.” I hear, as I bump into someone. I stumble back and blink, pulling myself out of my daze.

“ Oh no no it’s alright. I wasn’t really paying all that attention.” I say, bending down to grab my fallen books. The boy in front of me does the same, to help me.

“ Y/n?” I hear a few feet away from me. I turn my head to find my teacher.

“ Are my cheaters cheatin me or am I seeing a colored boy with one of my students?” She asked, clearly confused. I felt my blood race, before my books were shoved into my hands.

“ I was just going to the principals office miss. Please don’t mind me.” The boy said, before my teacher rolled her eyes at him.

“ If you people would’ve been raised better maybe I wouldn’t have a problem with you.” She said before pulling a cigarette out from her pocket and lighting it. The boy lowered his head before quickly squeezing between the two of us to get by.

“ M’ sorry Misses, really was my mistake.” He said quietly as he left. When he was gone, she blew out the smoke from her cigarette.

“ Now you listen to me girl, and you listen good.” She said, pointing at me. “ Stay away from those colored folk. You never gonna be on their level so don’t try to be. Now get to class.” She said.

Oh how my blood boiled.

He fills my heart with very special things

With angel's songs, with wild imaginings

He fills my soul with so much love

That anywhere I go, I'm never lonely

With him along who could be lonely?

I reach for his hand, it's always there

1917 : High school Dance

I don’t know if this is good enough. More importantly, I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to get into the dance without my parents finding out. Would they even let me into a colored folk dance? I don’t see why not.

“ Y/n are you ready to go?” Mandy asks me from my window. She’s hanging on for dear life while I scramble to find the lipstick I need. The lipstick he likes the most.

“ Yeah just a minute.” I said, going through my vanity as quietly as possible.

“ Aw, trynna get all dolled up for Al~?” She asked, wiggling her brows. I rolled my eyes and almost jumped out of my skin when I found the lipstick I needed.

“ Okay, let’s go.” I said, before she grinned. Off we were to the dance.

“ We made it!” Mandy said as she hugged her boyfriend, who despite having a rough year, was happy to be with her.

“ Thanks for comin’. Sure they won’t have a problem?” He asked Mandy, before she shook her head.

“ No they won’t. Right Y/n?” She asked, before I shrugged, looking around the courtyard for Alastor. The party for the colored kids had been in a more quiet side of town. But that didnt mean it was easy to find someone.

“ des fleurs pour la fille?” I heard, as flowers were placed in front of me. Red roses. Wrapped in a tight red ribbon, with white fabric holding it together.

“ I didn’t know you knew french.” I said, as my eyes widened, gently taking the flowers from his grasp. I was greeted with a kiss to my temple, and his hand resting on my lower back.

“ Of course. It’s in my mothers nature after all. I hope you do enjoy tonight.” Alastor said, before offering me his arm. I took hold of it and we began to walk to the party.

“ I love the flowers by the way, they’re beautifully wrapped.” I said, before he smiled.

“ Perfect. Saved up just enough." Alastor said with a wink.

" How much was it?" I asked, before Alastor laughed, pushing the door open to the run down barn, which was where the dance would be held.

" Oh don't worry about that dear, we're here to have fun not to worry about expenses." He said, before handing our tickets to a teacher, who eyed the both of us curiously.

" Honey you sure you in the right dance?" The woman asked, taking our tickets. I nodded with a smile, before Alastor led me to the dance floor.

It's two in the morning, and the street lights are dim. All the lights on the street are out, everyone's sleeping. The flowers are still in my hand, shoes in my other as Alastor and I walk down the street to my home, the dance ending after hours of fun.

" Did you enjoy yourself?" Alastor asks, before I nod, smiling wide.

" I've never had that much fun in my life. Thank you for letting me go." I say with a smile as we approach my front steps. I walk up the first few, as Alastor stands on the pavement. I turn, waiting for him to follow.

" Can I...?" He asks, gesturing to the steps. I nod, as he steps up to walk with me to my front door.

" I hate that things are like this." I say as we stop at my front door. Alastor smiles, a sad smile, as he fixes my hair.

" Things will get better. Promise." He said, before bending down to kiss my forehead. " I'll get a real fancy job, we'll get a nice house with a pretty little yard, and we can dance as much as you want." He said, smiling. I knew that smile, that smile that he gave when talking as if he was on the radio, or when he was talking about something good that had happened with his mother at work.

" You sure?" I ask, before he nods.

" Of course. We'll get away from here, far away. New Orleans, just us." He says, before he pulls me in for a hug. " Don't ever doubt it." Alastor says, before I hug him back, ignoring the teardrops that fall on my shoulder.

How long does it last? Can love be measured by the hours in a day? I have no answers now, but this much I can say I'm going to need him 'til the stars all burn away And he'll be there

1919: The first bite

Twelve stations. Twelve stations that said no to him. All giving the same answer.

" You think people gonna wanna hear a colored boy on the radio? You best be trynna trick me if you think for a second you comin' in here." Was what they would say, and every time Alastor would come home with that smile on his face, despite the break in his heart.

" Any luck?" I ask, as his mother sets his food on the table, which I hand him his glass of wine.

" No, not today." He says, before he cuts a piece of his steak. His mother and I share a look, pity of course, but she's also hurt.

" Baby those people don't know who they just said no too. You're a man full of talent." His mother says, reaching over to fix his hair. " Now you just keep trying, someone outta give you something." She said, before he just nodded, his smile faltering for a moment before he sighed.

" Thank you for the food.” He said, as he took his napkin and put it around his neck, tucking it into his shirt.

“ Of course honey.” His mother said, before she stood up. “ Oh I almost forgot.” She said, before walking out of the kitchen. I began to eat the food she made, while Alastor stared at the door in confusion.

“ How was work today dear?” Alastor asks, his usually smile appearing again. I smiled to him and took a sip of the wine.

“ It was alright, some people weren’t exactly happy with their food choices.” I said, as Alastor nodded.

“ I found it!” Alastor’s mother says as she comes back into the dining room. She smiles as she sets down a small box in front of Alastor.

“ You might wanna open it.” She said to Alastor, who stared at the box with a confused smile. He lifted the lid to the small box, before his eyes widened.

“ What’s this?” He asked, before she smiled and took her seat.

“ It was your grandmothers. I found it this morning.” She said, before he smiled. Alastor looked up at me, before turning the box to face me. Inside was a ring, a gold ring with a ruby in the middle, surrounded by little diamonds.

“ She took it from a family she was working for. Her contract was up but they hadn’t given her half of what they promised. So she took that as compensation. She really meant to sell it but she liked it so much she kept it.” His mother explained, before Alastor turned the box so he could look at it again. “ Well? What do you think?” His mother asks, before he turns to look at her. The two exchange a look I can’t quite place, but he shuts the box and puts it in his mothers hand.

“ It’s beautiful.” He said, before smiling to her, and then looking at me with a smile.

━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━

“ Y/n, someone’s here to see you.” Mandy called to me, before I took my apron off. Working at the towns diner was not an easy job. But I was finally on my break.

“ Comin’” I said, before I pushed the door that led from the kitchen to the restaurant, walking around tables and people. “ Someone needed me?” I asked, as I approached the front desk, before Mandy pointed to the door. I turned around to see Alastor, standing there with a bouquet of flowers.

“ Oh, Alastor these are beautiful.” I say, walking over to him as he smiled. When I do reach him, he bends down to give me a kiss, before handing me the flowers. There are all sorts of flowers in the bouqet, some Asters, Carnations, Roses of course, Camellia’s, a few Calla Lily’s.

“ I'm taking you out for lunch.” He said, tapping the edge of my nose. Quickly, he helped me put my jacket on, and off we were to have a lovely lunch together, where I later found out, he had finally gotten a shot to have his own radio studio.

1922: Consequences

It all happened so fast. There was nothing I could do to stop him, to stop it from happening. One moment I had been in the bathroom at work and the next I'm on the floor in tears trying to get Tommy off me. Yet nothing worked.

" Mandy I don't feel so good. I'm going home." I say, grabbing as Tommy grins at me from his table with his friends. Mandy looks at me concerned before she just nods silently.

" Feel better Y/n." Mandy says, but it's too late. I'm already pushing the glass doors and out I am onto the sidewalk of the busy street walking myself home as quickly as possible. My legs are shaky, and I can barely breathe as I open my front door, and shut it behind me. I couldn't stop thinking about it, about what he'd done to me. I kick my heels off, sobbing as I throw my jacket to the ground, letting my hair down and making my way towards my bedroom.

How dare he? How dare he do this to me? Why couldn't I stop him? Why didn't I do something? Why didn't I say something? I should've fought back harder, done something, been stronger. I turn and shut the door to my bedroom, before finding a corner near my window to curl up in, hugging my knees to my chest as I feel myself collapse on the ground, the only thing I can think of being Tommy's words.

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( Events before leaving )

" If you were with me, you wouldn't need to work in this shitty diner." Tommy said, before I hear a click. I look up, staring at Tommy in the mirror.

" I actually like working here thank you very much." I say, before I move to dry my hands with a towel from my apron. Quickly, his hand grabs my shoulder to turn me around, before his hand is cupping the bottom of my chin, squeezing the sides of my face. He's angry.

" Don't give me an attitude bitch. Word's been flying 'round you been with that mixed guy. How's he treatin' ya' huh? Bet he beats you,-" Tommy said, before shoving my face to the side so hard I fall to the ground, putting my hands out to support me. No lunch, my wrist breaks. I cry out in pain, before Tommy grabs my hair to pull be up just enough to see my face.

" What? Not used to it? Those colored folk's aint got nothing better to do than beat their women. You ain't nothing special." He said, before he slapped me. I pushed myself up with my other arm, trying to hit him back, before his knee came in contact with my stomach, airing me out. " Now you just sit there and look pretty while I show you how a real man feels. Maybe then you'll get your senses straight, 'stead of bein' dirty." And then it happened. Bottoms torn off my legs, no matter how hard I kicked or tried to hit him, nothing. I couldn't do a damn thing. All while he had his way with me. Stupid son of a bitch.

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( author's POV )

Alastor opens the front door, sighing as he takes a step into his home, finally done with the day he had at work. It only when he steps on Y/n's jacket, that he realizes something is wrong. He takes a moment to stop, staying quiet. He hears something, and when he finally realizes what it is.

He. Is. Livid.

Alastor sets his belongings down on a nearby table, before he makes his way upstairs, as calm as he can possibly be. The closer he gets, the louder Y/n's sobs are.

" Darling? Are you alright?" Alastor asks, approaching their bedroom door. No response. But the sobs don't stop. He frowns, his body beginning to shake, his nerves getting the best of him. " I'm going to open the door." Alastor says, waiting a moment for a response, before he turns the handle to the door. He looks around for a moment, before he spots her sitting near the window, on the floor in the corner. She's holding the curtain in her hand, her face stuffed into it as she sobs. Alastor begins slow, walking towards her, studying her frame. It's only when he notices the harsh color of her wrist that alarms begin to go off in his mind. He kneels down, now in front of Y/n, before he speaks again.

" Y/n?" He asks. No response, just sobs. " Dear what happened?" He asks. At that, Y/n lifts her head to stare at him. It's then Alastor realizes that whatever did happen, was very serious. Alastor doesn't speak as his hands reach for Y/n's arms, slowly pulling her as he stands, before he brings her in for a hug. " Whenever your ready, I'm here to listen." Alastor said, before he felt Y/n's hand hold onto his side.

" It was e-earlier." Y/n said between breaths, obviously struggling to speak. Alastor pulled back and stared down at her, before he saw how red her neck was. Not just red though, there were hickie's. All over her neck, and a large hand print in the middle. Like if she was being choked. The sides of her face were bruised, harsh black and blues appearing on her skin. As Alastor continued to take her state in, he saw bruises on her arms as well.

" Who did this to you?" He asked, stern. She stared, unsure of what to say. There was this look on his face she couldn't describe. His aura grew darker the longer she took to answer, as Alastor began to trace over the marks on her skin with his fingertips lightly. It had taken her a second to register what he was doing.

He was securing it. Like reassuring himself they were real, that this, what was happening, was real.

" Y/n, Dear, who did this to you?" He asked again, losing his patience. His mind was running through all sorts of things, his mind focused on the amount of rage he felt.

" ... Tommy."

That was it. Y/n stood, unsure of what to do as she watched Alastor frame shake, like a shiver. As if he was cold. He wasn't. His skin was burning hot, and as he pulled Y/n into a hug she could feel the anger seeping off of him as she cried into his chest.

" Alastor I'm so so so sorry. I tried to stop him, I really did." She said, before she pulled away from him as Alastor looked down at her, shaking his head.

" Don't be sorry. This isn't your fault. He is disgusting, and you are beautiful. He wanted to ruin you, and you didn't let him." Alastor said, wiping away the tears that continued to fall from her eyes. " How did this happen?" He asks, his tone softer now as he pulled Y/n to sit on the bed as he walked towards their bathroom. Her wrist was swollen, Alastor had pretty much guessed it was either sprained or broken. Either way, Tommy was definitely going to be his next victim.

" Your arm dear." Alastor said, as he sat back down next to Y/n, an ice pack in one hand while wrapping her wrist with the other. " Now, tell me how it started." Alastor said, before Y/n took a deep breath before she began explaining.

" I had went to the restroom at work, some customer had spilled water on me, it was an accident though. I was washing my hands, and when I looked up in the mirror I saw Tommy there. He locked the door to the bathroom and started talking. He said something about me being with him and if I was I wouldn't have to work in that diner." Y/n said, before Alastor let out a 'mhm', signaling her to continue.

" I told him I actually liked working there, and he grabbed my face and told me not to disrespect him. He called me a bitch." Y/n said, before Alastor looked at her, stopping his motions.

".. continue." He said, before moving to press the ice pack to her wrist.

" T-then, he said that word had been goin' 'round that I was with a, as he put it, 'mixed guy', and then asked how that was going for me. Then he said he bets you beat me, and then he pushed me to the floor. That's how I hurt my wrist." She explained, before Alastor nodded at her to continue, moving to check for any cuts he might need to treat on her. " After he did that he was all like, 'What? Not used to it?' and then he said colored folks don't have anything better to do than beat their women. Then he said I wasn't anything special, and he told me to sit there and just look pretty while he showed me what a feels like. He said maybe then I would get my senses straight and stop being dirty..." Y/n said, leaving out the portion of him airing her out, to not get Alastor upset.

Alastor was silent for a moment. His mind mulling over the information he had just been given. Y/n had assumed he'd been calm enough to receive the extra information.

" While I was on the ground, he also hit me, with his knee... in my stomach..." Y/n said, nervous of Alastor's reaction. He didn't say much. He was quiet.

" I'll have a talk with him tomorrow. Take the rest of this week off, I want you here, and if you go out I want you with someone so you aren't alone. You need medical help right now, I'll talk to my mother since she isn't far." Alastor said, as he stood up, quickly putting things away.

" W-wait, can't we talk about this first? I don't want him to get in trouble he might try to hurt you-"

" Y/n, I don't give a damn about what he wants to do to me! It's the fact he's gotten to you, he's hurt you, and I wasn't there to stop him. No one was!" Alastor said, stopping in front of the bed. He was upset, so much so that a tear fell from his eye, before he wiped it away. Y/n stood from the bed, but never moved to Alastor.

" I can heal from this, we can move on. I just don't want this to be a big thing." Y/n said, before Alastor stood quiet.

" It won't be. Just, let me deal with it. Stay here, relax." Alastor said walking over to Y/n to run his hands down the sides of her arms. " I promise I won't make this a big ordeal. My mother should be by shortly after I speak wit her. Until then, get yourself comfortable, be careful with your write, and wait for me to get back, alright?" Alastor asked, before Y/n nodded.

" Alright. I love you." Y/n said, looking up at Alastor, waiting for him to say it back.

" I love you too darling."

1923: Fresh Start in the French Quarter

Tommy had opened his big mouth to the entire town about Alastor and Y/n's relationship. The entire town had shunned the both of them for it, Y/n's parents officially cutting her off for good, their suspicions being correct. After that christmas, Alastor and Y/n had began to take trips to New Orleans regularly, looking for a house to by. Alastor had gotten a better job, with much higher pay. Alastor had let Y/n choose whatever house she wanted, and when she finally settled on one, he also made sure to higher movers, and of course there's the paint job and furniture.

Though the cost was something Alastor would never allow her to see, the house made her happy, and that was more than enough for him. As he had told her, " Whatever my love wants, my love gets."

The neighborhood was nice, a lot of land was also nice too, aside from the grass growing extremely fast, but the man who would mow the lawn every week was nice so there was a plus. Y/n didn't need to work anymore, since Alastor made enough for the both of them to live comfortably. The lifestyle the two had changed over too had went from simple and comfortable, just barely making it by, to lavish and extravagant.

Since moving to New Orleans people had been kinder to the two of you. As well as the two of you getting married. It was a small wedding, consisting of Alastor's mother, Mandy and her husband Clarence. A few coworkers, Alastor's uncle who was just happy to be there. The people from his mother's church who had a great time at the afterparty.

Alastor never did tell you what he did to Tommy, but that was alright. He wasn't your problem anymore.

He fills my heart with very special things With angels' songs, with wild imaginings He fills my soul with so much love That anywhere I go, I'm never lonely With him along, who could be lonely? I reach for his hand, it's always there

1925: the first letter

(Y/n's POV )

" Honey could you get the mail for me? Hand's are all covered in dirt." Alastor said, before I nodded. I had walked to the front of the lawn to open our mailbox, pulling the papers out.

"Hm. Bills, bills, more bills, bills, and, a letter?" I stop. It's addressed to me. But the address is unfamiliar. I take the mail inside and walk to the dining room to open the letter. Alastor is in the mud room, removing the gardening equipment and dirt. I open the letter, before taking the pages out from inside. There's three pages, but all are covered in black ink. Except for the second page, with the words in the middle of the page reading.

Your Husband murdered the love of my life.

Silence. I don't know who this person is. I don't know where this letter is from. I don't know who this letter is from. They must have the wrong house. My husband would never kill anyone. As upset as he gets, he wouldn't hurt a fly.

" I think we can start on dinner now." Alastor said, as I slipped the letter back into the envelope.

" What do you wanna make tonight?" I ask as we both walk into the kitchen. Alastor moves to the freezer to grab out meat while I go through our cabinets to see what we have.

" Hm, what about Chili? Never hurt anyone, haven't had any in a while." He said, before I sighed.

" Chili is the worst thing to make though." I whine, before Alastor chuckles and sets the mean down on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

" Why don't we go out then? I get my chili, you don't need to help make it. How does that sound?" Alastor asks, before I smile.

" We can go see the band right?" I ask, before Alastor nods.

" If that's what you wanna do." He said with a grin, before I smiled and kissed his cheek.

" Get your dancin' shoes. Date night!" I say as I practically sprint out of the kitchen as Alastor laughs from his place in the kitchen.

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2 weeks later : Letter two

This letter is different. The first two pages are covered in black ink, the third page being the only one that has writing. It reads.

" I know you got my last letter. Your husband is a killer. Don't deny the truth." Right in the center of the page. My hands shake as I read it, before I shut the front door, locking it tight. I begin to walk around our house, the house we bought together. The house that we danced in together, cooked together, had gatherings together. Everything.

I came across his study, where I never really entered much, since I allowed it to be just him, his personal space. Like my own study, which was really more like a library since we had shared books in there. I opened the door, but never stepped in, curious as to what he would have hidden away. The door opens fully to reveal a minimalistic room. There are papers on his desk, a desk lamp, newspapers on the side, file cabinets, a radio, a journal. Wait, a journal? I never knew he had a journal.

I step into the room, making my way over to his desk, and reaching for the journal. I flip through the pages, skimming over the words, before something catches my eye.

Tommys name.

I continue to read, reading the journal and the pages that follow up until the very latest entry. I learn all sorts of things after reading this journal, and when I place it back down on the desk I want to run out of his study. But I don't. I put it down, exactly where I found it, and exit the room. Shutting the door tightly, and leaving the house all together. Just to walk. To clear my mind. After reading his journal I learn a number of things.

First, that Tommy is dead. Alastor killed him after Tommy assaulted me at work, and took the liberty of dismembering him and even cooking some of his intestines. Second, the meat that is stored in our freezer, the meat I've been eating for years, is from actual people. Their dead, cut up bodies are the things I've been preparing every night like it's the best thanksgiving turkey anyone's ever gonna eat. Third, his mother has been getting a good portion of his check every month. There isn't a problem with that, she's a lovely woman.

But, it was the most recent entry that made my spine tingle the most.

Alastor and I had never been intimate with one another. We both had our reasons, I had been saving it till marriage, but after Tommy I hadn't been comfortable with anyone ever potentially seeing me like that again, and Alastor had never tried so it just mutually never happened. There wasn’t an easy way to put it really, in some pages of the journal he had stated he wanted to show me how to kill, to take me with him for these murders. That it would get him, excited, to think about.

I guess this is the part where I call the cops. Tell them my husband is a cruel heartless killer, that he stores remains of these dead bodies in our freezer for us to eat.

But I won’t. I can’t. Because despite knowing all this. I still love him.

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That night: Dinner

( Author’s POV )

“ Dinner is served.” Y/n says, placing Alastor’s plate of food in front of him. He smiles as she leans down to kiss him on the cheek, fixing his handkerchief around his neck. She moves to her seat, across from him, and situates herself. Immediately, he begins to dig in, cutting away at the meat with a bloodlust look in his eye she had never noticed up until now.

“ I hope you enjoy it. Took a long time to season it properly.” Y/n said, as she began to eat as well, never once touching the meat on her plate.

“ Really? Did we not have enough spices? I can run out tomorrow and get some more if you need some.” Alastor said, before taking another bite out of his food.

“ No, we had enough spices. I just wanted to season it enough so I’m not distracted by the fact it’s from a human.” Y/n says, before putting a spoonful of food in her mouth. Alastor stops, frozen as if she was crazy. He’s silent, they both are. Alastor sits there tense, expecting police officers to round the corner of his home, he thinks this is it for him.

“ What are you talking about?” Alastor asks, before Y/n looks up at him from her seat.

“ I found your journal.” Y/n says.

“ You went into my study?” Alastor asks, trying hard to mask the annoyance in his voice. He fails.

“ Yes. I’ll tell you why.” Y/n says, before she pulls out two envelopes from behind her, tossing it towards Alastor as it slides across the table to him. He stares at them curiously, before he reaches forward to open it.

“ When did you get these?” Alastor said, losing his usual smile.

“ I got the first letter maybe, two weeks ago.” Y/n says, before Alastor’s eyes flicker to her’s for a second, before back down to the letters. “ I got the second one today. I’m sure there’s going to be a third.” Y/n says, not failing to notice Alastor’s grip on his knife tighten.

“ Why didn’t you tell me about this?” He asks, sternly.

“ I didn’t believe them. There was no reason to tell you if I didn’t believe it.” Y/n said, standing from her seat.

“ Y/n, did you… tell anyone?” Alastor asks, his eyes pleading with her. As if he was sorry. She knew he wasn’t.

“ Don’t look at me like that .” Y/n said, the pain in her voice obvious.

“ Did you?” He asks.

“ No. I didn’t.”

Silence. Neither one of them say a thing. Alastor stands from his seat, putting his knife down.

“ Do you hate me?” Alastor asks, refusing to look at her now. No response.

Y/n isn’t sure what to do. She’d figured he’d kill her by now.

“ Do you still love me?” Alastor asked, and the crack in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Y/n hadn’t even realized she had started crying, and he was too. No response.

Alastor didn’t say anything after that. He left the letters on the table, before he exited the dining room. Y/n sighed, letting the tears fall. Y/n also exited the dining room, not sure where he could have gone. The house was huge, big enough to get lost in. Room by room, Y/n checked for him, now desperately trying to fix her mistake.

When Y/n made it to their bedroom, she found money sitting on their bed, all of his belongings gone. Was he leaving? Now the panic had set in.

“ Alastor!” Y/n called, running through the halls, checking for him where ever she could. practically jumping down the stairs when she saw him at the front door.

“ Alastor where are you going?” Y/n asked, panting wildly. Alastor didn’t answer. “ Alastor please.” Y/n said, before Alastor took his coat off it’s hanger.

“Y/n please, stop.” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses moving upwards slightly.

“ No. Don’t you dare tell me to stop.” Y/n said, before she began to walk down the stairs.

“ Yes dear.” Alastor said, allowing her to continue, because he knew she would.

“ I don’t want your money.” She said, putting it on one of his suitcases. “ I don’t care about that. For Christ’s sake I don’t care about our house, or our cars or anything!” Y/n said, crying again. Alastor frowned.

“ Then what do you care about?” Alastor asked.

“ You! I care about you Alastor! Not the stupid front you put up, no, I care about you! Even if you are a killer, so be it I don’t care!” Y/n said, before she moved closer to him before reaching into his pocket. She was right, there it was. The knife he wrote about. The one he always had with him. She also knew he had one strapped to him under his shirt, on his arm. “ If you think I don’t care then shut me up.” Y/n said, putting the knife between the two of them.

“ Are you asking me to kill you?” Alastor asked, confused.

“ No. I’m telling you if you don’t like what I’m saying, or don’t think it’s real. Shut. Me. Up.” She said, putting the knife to his chest.

“ I thought you didn’t love me anymore.” Alastor said, head hanging low.

“ I do. I do love you.” Y/n said, as the knife fell to the ground. Y/n hugged him, and he hugged her back with just as much force, if not more, than she did. “ I will always love you.” Y/n said, gently running her fingers down his back.

“ You wont tell anyone right?” Alastor asked, before Y/n shook her head.

“ No, not ever. I promise.” Y/n said. “ Thank you.” She told him.

“ For what?” Alastor asked, mind going blank for a moment.

“ Getting rid of Tommy.” She said.

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1932: ‘Till death do we part

She knew she could’ve told the police. She knew she should’ve. But she didn’t have the heart to tell.

Even as she watched every night, accompanied Alastor on his hunts, as he liked to call it, she still loved him.

Even when they were both all bloody, screams of a victim trying to get away, you could still feel the love between them. As odd as it may sound.

But neither one of them cared. Even when Alastor had gotten caught, when he died, she still loved him even in death. Everyone had assumed she’d taken her own life because she was devastes over him being a killer.

Oh no. They couldn’t be more wrong.

She died because she couldn’t live without him. Even in their final moments together, the only thing either cared about, was each other.

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1935: Caught

Despite them both being dead, it was only in 1935 that Y/n had finally been caught as his accomplice. Police had went through their entire house, searching through their personal items, bibles, food. Asking the help of their co-workers, house keepers, friends, family. Anyone, if they had any suspicions.

Now, they’re graves lay near one another, flowers being brought every few weeks by only Alastor’s mother, who still loved them both dearly.

“ I always knew he was a troubled child I just, thought it was because of the kids at school, and the stress of the finances.” Alastor’s mother told the police.

“ What about Y/n?” The officer asked, before his mother shook her head.

“ Oh no. She was always such a sweet girl. I never would’ve thought she would do something like that. I always knew she loved my son, but I never thought they would do that.” His mother confessed.

“ Do you have an idea as to why Alastor took the fall for the whole thing? I mean, he could’ve easily put it on Y/n when he found out the we would be searching for him.” The officer said before Alastor’s mother sighed.

“ Well, my son was in love with her, goodness. That boy would go on and on for hours about her if he could. He probably didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.” His mother said.

“ Do you think if he would have had too, he would’ve sacrificed himself for her?” The officer asked.

“ Oh yes. Of course. He would do anything he needed too to keep her safe. Why do you think he killed Tommy? He beat Y/n.” Alastor’s mother said, before the officer went silent.

“ So your saying, Alastor killed for her?” The officer asked.

“ Well, I don’t know if that’s exactly why. But I could assume so. She knew all the victims, and he’d tell me how much she’d dislike them. He was clearly trying to make her happy.” His mother said. The officer nodded, writing everything down. Now it all made sense.

How long does it last?

Can love be measured by the hours in a day?

I have no answers now, but this much I can say

I'm going to need him 'til the stars all burn away

And he'll be there

[bcolfanfic]

"they like me too? are you sure? is this a prank?" for the mutual crush prompts? feel free to alter it however you want too :)

going oc crazy here bc i haven’t actually written em yet and i wanna lol. so. wyatt and micah <3 young vets au wise that’s nash/helen’s son (ev’s step son) and the bucks son. rachel and i’s rule of thumb for the OC kids age gaps is “whatever serves the story” LMAO. but here wyatt is 22 and micah is 19. meadow and bry are curt/ken's twin girlies.

/ / /

meadow biddick

wyatt told me something super interesting last night (:

Micah rolled his bottom lip inwards, exhaling as he tapped his thumb against his screen. Wyatt had mentioned in passing the other day that the "New York gang" was getting together over the weekend.

Really, he should've known that would only end in someone in his business. And it should've been obvious who that someone would be, but that was here nor there.

He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and looking out the window. Wyoming was home- and didn't think he'd actually like living in a big city all that much anyways. But he'd been home from school for a few days and was already itching to look at flights, just for a weekend. Just for Wyatt.

Which was silly, really. Wyatt was probably glad to have him out of his hair, be back in New York with his family and his city friends.

They were friends- friends that did things as he'd put it trying to explain to Josie when she'd prodded. But it wasn't anything more than that, and never would be. No matter how he felt about it.

meadow biddick

but if you wanna know what you have to venmo me 3 dollars.

micah

no. just tell me.

meadow biddick

he missessss you. was talking about how how he's hoping you guys come up here for new years. i wonder why...

Locking his phone without replying to that, he forced himself out of bed and into the kitchen. Plopping down across from Josie- he didn't think he looked in any sort of mood until caught saw her squinting at him.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"You look mopey, missin' your boyfriend?" She asked with a little laugh under her breath, punctuating it with a kissy sound.

It made him itch in a way only his sister could make him itch.

"He's not my boyfriend." He said inhaling sharply, glancing back down the hallway where he'd heard at least one of their dads getting out of bed a few minutes ago.

He hadn't told his either of them about the turn of events with Wyatt over the semester, and as far as he was concerned Wyatt hadn't told his folks either. Felt more awkward than it was worth when they were just hooking up anyways.

"Hey dad, by the way I started having sex with Blakley's son. Just thought you should know."

Absolutely not.

Josie hummed, bobbing her head from side to side and finishing her bite of Cheerios before she shot back. "Maybe in that delusional little head of yo-"

Micah interrupted her with a groan, pressing the sides of his hands into his eyes and tearing them away abruptly."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"Good morning always works too y'know."

John looked like he was holding back a laugh, ruffling Micah's hair as he reached over him to grab the cereal box. "If you guys are gonna do this all break we're flipping a coin to send one of you to Wisconsin with my ma."

Josie rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed. "If Micah would stop being such a pussy about-"

"Josie STOP."

That seemed to get the message across at least, Micah figuring he looked pretty damn panicked when she mouthed "sorry" at him with what appeared to be a trace of genuine guilt in her eyes.

"New topic." John said, clearing his throat as he set his bowl on the table and sat down. "Been talking to Uncle Curt and the New York gang about comin' up for New Years. You guys interested?"

Micah watched whatever guilt he'd seen in his sister vanish in all of three seconds.

"Oh I think that'd be wonderful." She drawled, and Micah pushed his foot into her ankle under the table. His phone buzzed before he could opine himself, a new text from Meadow waiting when he turned it over from where he'd had it resting in his lap.

meadow biddick

also i was being an asshole but i did get him to say he really likes you. so do with that what you will.

micah

we grew up together, i'd hope he likes me

meadow biddick

that was very obviously not what he meant. bry asked if he had a crushhh and he got all red faced and stupid.

someday, you'll thank me

[cogglebee]

I found a super old portal au in my drafts & decided to share, I don't plan on writing this one, but it's still a fun idea to me (it's so old oh god it's so old) (cotl mutuals if you see this please god just ignore it)

Portal western au

Characters:

Chell is a well known outlaw, infamously tricky to catch.

Glados is the mayor of a town that's been targeted by Chell several times.

Rick/adventure core is the sheriff, he thinks very highly of himself and loves any and all glory he can get.

Wheatley is the former deputy, he doesn't know how he got here.

Space and Fact core are rangers that help Rick out from time to time.

The companion cube is Chells horse.

The story:

An unfortunate slip up caused Chell to finally get caught and arrested. All is not lost for her though, she has a hidden knife or gun that she kept on her. She uses this to threaten the current deputy Wheatley into letting her out. (lets be honest here though, she fully could potentially just have no weapon & Wheatley is just that intimated by her)

They get caught soon after, and Wheatley is forced to go with Chell since he is now an accomplice.

Mayor Glados, furious that this has happened, places a large bounty on Chell’s head. All new wanted posters are made with the new bounty and a mild change, no longer wanted alive or dead, wanted dead and dead only. She wants her GONE.

Sheriff Rick and his two rangers (space and fact) are now after the outlaws. Wheatley learns about how life is like as an outlaw, and maybe it starts to grow on him. Though it's strange hanging around someone that never speaks a word.

(Any of this is subject to change once I actually start writing it :>)

(Future Cog- I will not be writing this, still subject to change though if I decide to go back to it who knows)

Music inspiration for this au:

House Of The Rising Sun, The Animals

Shut Eye, Stealing Sheep

Big Iron, Marty Robbins

Hell's Comin' with Me, Poor Man's Poison

Providence, Poor Man's Poison

The Drunk, Kiltro

No thoughts, only Outlaw Chell..

[thecapricunt1616]

Goddess - Chapter One Steve Harrington

♡ Chapter Inspo: Lyrics - "Lay all your love on me" (ABBA) " It was like shooting a sitting duck. A little small talk, a smile, and baby I was stuck. I still don't know what you've done with me; A grown-up woman should never fall so easily..."

♡ Summary: Steve x Persephone do some heavy flirting, Robin is grossed out, but- She forgives Steve since he picks a movie for the 3 of them containing their mutual favorite - tits.

♡ W/C: 1,816

♡ Posted Date: 03/09/2024

♡ A/N: It's here!!! It's finally here! This is a rewrite of a fic I wrote a few months ago & posted to AO3 - I am such a softie for some Stevey omgg I really love him!! IMO He is one of the most important characters in the entire show, his character growth is beautiful, Genuinely - as a Character Steve Is so complex and wonderful and such a good person, so I had to write for him hehe!

♡ Warnings for BTC: None really! Oh - Robin getting a pack of gum to the face for being a cheeky bitch, and swearing.

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓮𝓹𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓮'𝓼 𝓟.𝓞.𝓥. -

I'm awoken to a sudden rapping on my door, “Persephone!!” Robin said as she flung my bedroom door open, her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. “Dude- you seriously fell back asleep? We need to be leaving in 5 minutes! I am not the person to be timekeeper!” I sit up quickly, fuck- fell back asleep again. 

I jumped up out of bed quickly, my pajamas wrinkled from sleep. “Uh-” I lift my hand quickly, wiping dried drool from the corner of my mouth. “Sorry- sorry,” I stumble past her over tiredly to my dresser, digging out a pair of jeans and a striped blue sweater. 

“Dude- Steve is my friend, but he told me yesterday that if I’m late one more time and he doesn’t write me up, the GM is gonna fire him - Hurry UP!” she said annoyed as she returned to the bathroom. I stripped my pajamas off quickly.

By the time I’d gotten outside and hopped in the driver's seat of my mom’s wood-paneled station wagon that’d been passed down to me when she died, starting it quickly and peeling out of the driveway, we were already a good 5 minutes behind, but I didn’t doubt that I could make it up if I just focused really hard while driving.

 “I don’t know how we haven't gotten in an accident yet” Robin mutters as I slow down briefly at the stop sign to be sure no one is coming before speeding off again.

“If we were in one, Steve would be a real ass to give you a write-up” I teased, earning a giggle from her. 

We got to the video store in one piece thankfully, and pulled into a parking spot. “Comin’ in?” she asked, grabbing her backpack from the back. 

“Yup, wanna pick out a movie for t’night, we're still getting Chinese right?” I questioned. She nods with a smile popping open her door and stepping out.

“Wouldn’t miss it, but please not another romance- I can’t handle your weeping” she teased, I giggled a bit, nudging her with my hip.

“You cried too! The Rachel Papers was fuckin’ amazing! You can’t deny.” I pulled the door open for us and Steve’s head popped up from the paperwork he was looking at on the counter, a stray adorable clump of hair falling over his forehead with the movement, causing him to sweep it back with his hand absentmindedly. 

He glances at the clock on the wall, smiling “15 seconds and you’dve been fired” he jokes, causing Robin to snort a laugh as she walks behind the counter, dropping her backpack in a heap on the floor.

“Sure like you’d lose your best employee right?” she replied, causing him to laugh a bit. 

“What brings you in, goddess? How may I be of service? ” he teased me with that boyish smile of his. I rolled my eyes lightly, biting back an amused grin. 

“You’ll never stop calling me that, mm?” I wandered over to the romance section to which Robin groans. 

“Shes here to torture me. Apparently, a ride to work every day means she always gets to choose the movies we watch, Steve can you puhhhhleeease start bringing me again?” She whined dramatically, causing Steve to chuckle. 

“You like romance, mm?” He follows me into the isle. I felt my heart quicken in my chest, butterflies swarming my stomach. I’d thought Steve was so cute ever since I’d moved here, but I’m far too shy to make a move myself- and he’s one of Robins best friends. It feels like it’s breaking girl code, if not family code to not make a move on one of your cousin's best friends. 

Even if they were as charismatic, and kind, and handsome as Steve Harrington. 

“Mmhmm” I hummed, stopping and picking up a random movie, hoping he was just coming back here to do some work. 

“That one’s no good” he plucked the copy of Love Story out of my hands, looking over the back “Yeah, this one’s a bore. You want somethin’ really steamy?” He takes a movie off the second to top shelf and extends it to me. 

I smile a bit “Manhattan? Really? Didn’t peg you as a Woody Allen guy” I turn it over to read the excerpt. Robin makes a dramatic ‘bleh’ noise causing me to snort. 

“Ew! He seems like a total skeez.” She said and I giggled, looking up at Steve, then over at Robin, before back at him again. 

“I guess it’s a no go…” I said softly, gently offering it to him. 

“Robin!” He looks back at her and she looks up from the stack of movies she was coding into the computer. “There’s boobies.” He stated, raising his eyebrows. 

I laughed, even harder so when Robin sat up at the mention of potentially seeing bare chests. “Deal, she’ll take it.” She nodded, going back to highlighting movies as she punched them in. 

“See she just takes a little convincing” he nudges the tape back towards me with a grin. I smiled, shaking my head amusedly. 

“You are a really good friend to her, you know that right, Harrington?” I said quietly, so only we could hear. His cheeks went pink, the smile on his face growing slightly. 

“I try. She’s not too bad herself.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck lightly. “Uh- I was gonna tell you y’know if she- if she didn’t want to watch it with you, I don’t mind a good romance” 

Now my cheeks were certainly pink. “Oh!” I manage to squeak out, my nails nervously picking at the tattered please rewind sticker on the case of the tape. “Sure- sure, I mean. Yeah! Come- come over, if you want to watch it with us. I’m sure she’s gonna like- pass out. After 20 minutes, you probably know how she is” I swallowed quickly, my mouth suddenly feeling dry and my voice sounding small. 

“Shit I didn’t- sorry I didn’t mean to like…invite myself? I just- I dunno, I hate watching movies alone” he clears his throat awkwardly. I bit the inside of my lip to contain a grin.

Was I making Steve Harrington nervous?

“Please invite yourself over any time, I can only handle her ramblings for so many hours before my head starts to hurt” I said loud enough just to tease her and she sits up. 

“Hey! You said you love when I talk to you about stuff!” She pouts and I giggled. 

“I’m just kidding tweedle-dee. C’mon y’know I love you” I went over to her, planting a large wet smooch on her cheek just to mess with her. 

She groans, pulling away and wiping her cheek. “God I feel bad for any boys you’re sucking face with if that’s how you kiss” she teased. 

Steve came back around the counter, leaning on his elbows and looking at me. 

“Member card please” he said, holding his hand out with a smile. I rolled my eyes slightly, “can’t just use Robins?” I huff, digging around in my purse. 

“That would be against policy, what kind of boss would I be if I broke the rules right Robin?” He looks over to her and she laughs. 

“You are one to talk about rules, mister I-go-over-10-minutes-every-break.” She said and shook her head. “You just have a yucky crush on my cousin and want her to stay longer,” she said causing us both to blush. 

“Dude shut up” he kicks her shin and she groans and winces at the contact.

“OW! You’re a Butthead” she muttered, and I looked up at him with a small smile on my lips.

“And what if I don’t have it?” I asked, resting just in front of him on the counter, leaning on my hand and looking at him with big doe eyes from under my lashes.

One of his famous, half Steve smirks appears on his lips, leaning in, mirroring my position, and looking into my gaze at eye level. 

“Guess you’re real lucky that I’m comin’ over then, I guess I could take responsibility of the movie…since you’re such a loyal customer, and a friend” he said, his eyes flickering to my lips momentarily.

“Wow…Who’d have guessed Steve Harrington is such the gentleman?” I slide the tape towards him, our fingers brushing. 

“Oh gag- Will you two just get a room?!” Robin groans and I raise my eyebrows, looking over at her.

“S’you wouldn’t beeee…” I narrow my eyes, hoping she got the hint.

“EW! You think I care?! Have at it, weirdos” she said, and my eyes flicked back to his hazel ones. 

“Care about what?” he asked, obliviously.

“That I hear her like ‘ohhhh steeeeveee!!’ in the shower at least once a week, she has the total hots for you” she said and I nearly choked on a gasp, chucking the closest thing to me at her head which just so happened to be Steves pack of spearmint gum.

“OW! Will you both stop hitting me?!” she said frustratedly and Steve laughs.

“She's saying what in the shower now?!” he turns towards her, a wide shit eating grin on his face. 

Smug bastard.

I give her the ‘try me, say it again’ eyes and she laughs, trying to play it off.

“Oh - kiddinggg! Just kidding.” she said, shooting me a ‘please, spare me.’ look.

“Girls are weird” he muttered, punching his member ID in from memory, and scanning the movie before handing it to me. “Due in 14 days, don’t be late- I got a stellar record” he smiled a bit. “Do I get one of those kisses you gave Robin? Y’know, for being so lenient” he wiggled his eyebrows and I rolled my eyes, cheeks still bright cherry red from Robin’s slick comments.

I shrug a bit, “Sure, C’mere, pretty-boy” I stood up with a small smile and he came around the counter, hands tucked behind his back and leaning so my lips were perfect height with his cheek. 

“Waiting” he said softly. I snort a laugh, leaning in and pressing my lips to his cheek gently, lingering for a little longer than needed, but neither of us seemed to mind. 

When I pulled away, his eyes were still fluttered shut, his cheeks the same tinge of red that surely matched mine. 

“Totally not at all the kiss I got, but okay” Robin mutters and I turn, sending her a death glare and digging around my purse for something else to throw. She covers her head and face in her hands nervously “Sorry! I can’t help it!” she squeaks.  I look back at Steve. “Handle my light stuff while I’m gone, yeah? See you at 6 Harrington, this movie better be as hot and steamy as you say.” I said next to his ear softly before turning and leaving before he could stutter a reply.

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋘ 𝐖𝐈𝐏 ♡♡♡ ⋙

[disco-tic-wonderland]

Spit flies from your mouth with the force of your words. You’re red in the face. But Kim just stands there, glaring. Mouth set and posture rigid.

“I know.” His voice is unwavering and his eyes are hard. “Officer Vicquemare warned me that you’d do this. Try to push me away. I’m not leaving, *partner.*”

“I don’t fucking want you here!” Liquid sloshes out of the bottle with the force of swinging your arms wide. I don’t want you to see me like this. He already has, your furies supply, and he didn’t turn away.

“That’s too bad, because you need me here to make sure you don’t injure yourself.” A very slight smile. “And I’m nothing if not stubborn.”

“What else do I have to say? How low do you want me to go, Kim, before you just give up?” The thought flashes in your mind, guaranteed ways to hurt him. Oh, you could hurt him so badly now that you know the Lieutenant’s buttons so intimately. The process maps itself out like a tree, how to shatter his heart and make him finally, finally leave you to your misery. Can you do it? Can you be that shitty?

Absolutely. It’s another day in the life of a shitbird like you. You’re practiced, mastered. The poised man before you means everything to you, and he’s standing between you and oblivion.

Just like the others. Hurt him to save him.

From you.

Kim’s eyes widen the moment before it leaves your mouth. He knows. He knows this is your last ditch before resorting to physical violence (he’s prepared for that, which is why he has cuffs in the back pocket of his jeans), but it’s not any less painful to know you could stoop so low.

The words stick in your throat. You made the mistake of looking into his eyes, hoping it would drive the point forward. Instead, it has driven it into the ground. The nasty things caught choking you, half way out and never going back in. You can’t do it. You bury your hands in your greasy hair and pull till the pain squeezes tears from your eyes.

You feel and hear him move closer. You look up, pulse spiking, body preparing for impact that doesn’t come. The Lieutenant’s chest is heaving, hands balled into fists.

“Let me clue you in to a little fact, in case you haven’t been paying attention.” His voice drips with sarcasm, eyes narrowed, finger jabbing at the air between them. He’s furious, but dialed in—nothing exists outside of this argument, the electric live wire between you two. His voice gets quiet, but as firm as any you have ever heard. “When Kim Kitsuragi wants to do something, Kim Kitsuragi goddamn does it. I have already decided to go down with this ship. So the question, Harrier, is whether you want to blaze out in a poetic fireball of mutually assured destruction, or do you want to *fucking save me!*”

Save…him? Your hands go limp at your sides and fizzing liquid seeps into the carpet at your feet. Esprit chirps up in the silence Half-light left behind. He means it. He would follow you into death itself. What is this, if not another danger to your person. He is at your side, now and forever. Are you going to endanger your life partner like that?

You hang your head in shame, too demoralized to hold back the sob that rips from your chest. “I’m sorry.”

Kim places a gentle hand on your cheek. The dearest thing you’ve ever felt.

He raises your chin up to meet his gaze. Tenderly, he says, “I don’t want an apology. I want you to be the Harry I’ve spent the last 6 months with.”

You nod. Day one of sobriety, comin’ right up.