#Doorstep Car Driving Classes

[yanderedrabbles]

Two Faced -Yandere Stalker/Cop

Yandere! Cop who pulls you over for a DUI. You're barely under the legal limit and it's clear you can't hold your liquor in the slightest.

Yandere! Cop who feels his cock twitch when you blow into the breathalyser, your eyes flickering up at him all half lidded like he's just fucked you raw, teasing him that most fellas don't say please as nice as you do officer.

Yandere! Cop who says he'll follow you home, just to make sure you're safe. You don't see anything strange about it, he's a cop after all. But now he knows where you live, he knows what car you drive, he knows that your roommates always leave for school at the same time you do.

Yandere! Cop who looks so damn good in his uniform, who has the muscles to fill it out just right.

Yandere! Cop figures out early on that you're a hard-core party girl. Different guys coming home with you every weekend. He doesn't like it, but he understands. You're probably just lonely - filling your bed with strangers to chase away the cold.

Yandere! Cop aims to fix that.

Yandere! Cop who makes sure he gets the weekend off and who makes sure to run into you at the club. You're totally wasted this time, hanging onto his arm and running your fingers up his biceps, giggling about what big muscles you have officer.

Yandere! Cop who takes you home and just let's you sleep it off in his bed. His cock is raging and he wants to fuck you more than anything, but he's a gentleman and you're hammered.

Yandere! Cop who makes you breakfast and a good ol' fashioned hangover cure all the cops swear by. He drives you home and tilts your chin up to kiss you. "How about a proper date, babydoll?"

You giggle and blush and slip away before he can get an answer.

Yandere! Cop who can never get with you in the daylight. You'll kiss him and grind up against him on the dance floor and warm his bed later that night, but you're almost always gone by morning.

Yandere! Cop who doesn't want you as just a fuck buddy. He wants you as his girlfriend, maybe his wife someday.

Yandere! Cop who'll take what you give him. He'll fuck you screaming and when you leave the next morning, he'll bury his head in your pillow and try to catch the remnants of your scent.

It goes on for months. He's becoming a neglected dog, fed on the scraps of attention you give him. He's starving, he's ravenous, he's slowly going rabbid.

Yandere! Cop who does something he didn't think himself capable of - he starts following you. Just a little at first, just so he can learn more about you. He's curious and you don't talk about yourself so it makes perfect sense, right? It's harmless.

Yandere! Cop who breaks into your apartment when you're in class. Just to make sure everything is safe. And if he jacks off into your used panties, it's just a kind of payment. He's going above and beyond for you, doesn't he deserve a little reward?

Yandere! Cop who sees you kissing another man on the walk back from school. You've got your hands on his chest and you're standing on your tip toes under the magnolia trees, like the poster of a sappy fucking romcom.

Yandere! Cop who's never been more angry in his life. And so he sends you a bloody bullet in the mail, your name carved into the steel.

And it works. You call him, terrified that you pissed off the wrong person somehow.

Yandere! Cop who loves being there to comfort you, who feels so masculine and strong when you cling onto his arm and sob about your big, scary stalker.

Yandere! Cop who takes endless pictures of you going about your day and leaves them on your doorstep.

Yandere! Cop who slowly becomes your boyfriend. Who's there the second your stalker gets too close or frightens you too badly. Who makes you feel so safe in his arms.

Yandere! Cop who carefully suggests you move in with him. He's a cop afterall, and no one would be stupid enough to break into his apartment.

Yandere! Cop who'll do something vicious everytime he feels you straying away from him.

Yandere! Stalker who leaves your pet's head in a box on your porch when you refuse to cut off your male friends.

Yandere! Cop who coos over you when you sob, as though he isn't the one scaring you.

Yandere! Cop who is extra careful with everything he does, so that you never suspect that he and your stalker are one and the same.

He's a cop afterall, and he's just keeping you safe. Even if you don't always see it that way.

[sheep-from-rad]

Note: This is supposed to be a whole headcanon fanfic for everyone but I lost the plot after my brain decided a weird headcanon about Jason.Also I’m eating crackers with leftover pasta sauce because I ran out of spaghetti noodles. Note Note: I’m using motorcycle laws from my country so I don’t know if it fits in your place Masterlist divider by: @strangergraphics and @strangergraphics-archive Also I have a question: If I write a Jason Todd x reader series, would you guys read it?

“This is ridiculous Todd. There is barely any room in this side car” Damian protested, arms crossed with a dark green helmet on. He sat near the sidecar’s mini door, trapping you between him, Jason, Tim and the motorbike’s engine as if fearing that you’ll jump off when on red light. 

You thought that running away from the mansion and starting anew was a power move. Well, it was a power move but you completely disregard the fact that your family is composed of vigilantes with a former MI6 agent as a butler. The moment they learnt that you left was the same moment they got your location and started dropping by like a bunch of stray cats at your doorsteps. 

It started with Jason becoming your roommate (it’s like he knows your rent hiked up and you need a roommate or you’ll be forced to take more shifts), Dick’s patrol change and frequent drop bys to restock the pantry and Tim becoming your classmate (he says the course intrigues him but you know he already had that course learnt before). Your nights aren’t safe as well, if you’re not being followed home and then you’re suddenly waking up in the middle of the night to find yourself being cuddled to sleep by Damian and Bruce. 

And when you thought it can’t get even more ridiculous, this month Jason came back to the apartment with one of his old motorbikes modified with a two-seater sidecar and more helmets. 

“I told you, Gotham laws only allow one backride and you’re a minor. You don’t even have classes today” Jason interjected. He made a quick turn in a safe alleyway to escape the traffic and while doing so his other hand reached to check the seatbelts on the carseat. “You got all your stuff right? I won’t be able to go back and forth now since I have a patrol waiting.” You only answered a lazy ‘yeah’  at his question. Ever since they learnt you leave, they came to your door and started playing siblings and honestly it just feels weird. Sure you pined for that bonding but doing it now when you already have your heart close. 

“Since when did you adhere to the laws and isn’t Drake a minor as well?”, Damian pointed at the sleepy Tim behind Jason’s back. The teen is strapped on Jason’s back with an adult version of a baby leash, drinking coffee and eating donuts you guys got from the drive thru. “Wait, do you even have a driver’s license?” 

“Well, I have Dick’s driver’s license and Tim can reach the foot peg of the bike.”

“(Name)” Jason called, making you stop from walking. Tim stopped as well, opting to wait for you so you two can walk together to class.

“What is it?” 

You turned around to find him pulling a couple of folded hundreds from his pocket and depositing it in your hand. “What is this for?” A bribe? Is he paying you because he wanted a ‘sibling bonding time’ again? 

“This month’s rent. Bruce already bought the apartment buildings so he wants you to have the month’s rent back” 

Well shit.

dang I got so used to writing in headcanons I forgot how to write reader dialogues.

[flemingsfreckles]

Better Boyfriend than Him (18+) pt. 4

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: you and Jessie have your first date

Warnings: some discussion of sex, suggestive, mention on masturbation, some cursing I think

WC: 3.2k (short and sweet)

A/N: this is the most tame chapter so far, it’s also the shortest chapter so far, limited sexual content (sorry to disappoint), more smut is coming in the next part

You were in the middle of getting ready, deciding between shirts when an aggressive knocking came from your door. Checking your phone you saw it was 5:38, you had to leave to pick up Jessie in 7 minutes. You could just ignore whoever was at the door, maybe it was just a solicitor and they’d leave when they decide no one is home. That plan fails as the banging becomes more harsh.

With a frustrated huff you throw on your sleep shirt that was lying on the floor and head toward the front door. You open the door and much to your surprise, Jessie is standing in front of you. It takes a second for you to register that she’s there. She’s wearing a dress shirt and slacks and has a sport jacket in one hand and a large handful of flowers in the other.

“What are you doing here?” You don’t mean to accuse her but you were supposed to be picking her up at 6, and here she was at your doorstep.

“These are for you.” She holds out the bouquet of flowers to you. She has a shy smile on her face, for a second her appearance doesn’t seem to resemble your best friend at all. For one she rarely was dressed up like this, you had maybe seen her in a dress shirt once when she had to give a presentation and she complained about not being able to wear a regular shirt all day. She also looks nervous. Nervous wasn’t a look she expressed often, she usually was oozing with confidence, but here she was shifting her weight from one foot to the other, her hand extended holding the flowers as she looked at you.

“Thanks.” You take the flowers from her and she follows you inside and to the kitchen. You dig around for a vase to put the flowers in and end up just picking a large water bottle, not having a vase as a college student. Before you’re able to scold her for being so early and throwing off your plans Jessie starts to explain herself.

“Sorry I’m early, and I know you were supposed to be picking me up, I just got nervous at home and I panicked and you’re the one I come to when I’m nervous so that’s what I did.” She’s playing with her fingers, cracking her knuckles and picking at her skin on her thumb.

“That’s okay.” You can tell she’s nervous and unsure so you decide against telling her off for messing up your scheduling. “I just need to finish getting ready, I thought I had a few more minutes. Just give me a second, okay?”

“Yeah, sorry again.” Jessie apologies as she moves over to your couch. Giving her one last look with a smile you head back into your bedroom.

Back in your room you rummage through your closet, still not being able to pick out what to wear. If this was any other day and you were unsure of an outfit you’d call Jessie You’d FaceTime her, shower her the options and asking which top you should wear on your date. Only you couldn’t call her now since she was the date. She was waiting in the other room, you couldn’t call her.

Nerves were starting to build in your stomach, maybe this was a bad idea. You take a deep breath, feeling lightheaded suddenly at the realization that you were about to try and date your best friend. Moving across the room, you sit down on your bed. You sit for a minute, trying to not think of all the things that could go wrong, except it seems all you can think of are all the things that could go so very wrong.

If this goes poorly you could never see her again. You’d never be able to text her, you’d never talk with her late into the night. No more coffee runs, no more drives in the car, no more studying and helping her with classes, none of it. She’d no longer be your friend, your friend with benefit, she’d become a stranger. No more passing notes in class when you’re both too bored to pay attention. No more sharing a blanket on the couch where you both fall asleep and you wake up nuzzled into her. No more calling her when you need advice. She’d be gone from your life if these dates fail. Feeling your chest get tight you lay back resting your head on the bed, trying to force air into your lungs as you breathe.

Focusing on breathing, a usual mindless habit, becomes harder than you ever thought it could be. Your small panic attack is interrupted by a soft knock on the door. You don’t say anything and the door handle turns and in walks Jessie.

“Are you alright?” You hadn’t realized how much time had passed, it was nearing ten past six.

You sit up looking at her, you can feel the tears welling in your eyes and you probably have red cheeks from struggling to breathe for the past couple of minutes.

“Hey what’s wrong?” Jessie says seeing your appearance. She moves over to sit next to you, wrapping her arm around your waist. She holds you tight, it relaxes you for a moment. The relaxation is quickly replaced with more nerves when you have the thought that if your date goes poorly, you wouldn’t be able to get this comfort from Jessie anymore. You stand up, out of her grasp and move away from her.

“I just don’t want to ruin this.” You gesture between the two of you. “What if we go on this date and you decide you want nothing to do with me and then we’re not friends anymore. I can’t lose you, you’re everything to me, I can’t lose my best friend.” The tears spill over as you explain yourself to Jessie.

“You’re not going to lose me.” She shakes her head at you.

“You can’t guarantee that.” A bubble of anger builds up inside your chest, she can’t just sit here and claim everything will be fine, that’s impossible for her to know, she can’t just make that false promise to you.

“I can, because I know I’m not walking away from you.” She stands up to move in front of you. “Look, even if this dating idea doesn’t work, I’ll need you in my life too. You don’t think I’m nervous too? Fuck, I’m over here worried that you’ll realize you don’t even want to date another girl.”

“Oh.” You let a small laugh escape from your lips, you hadn’t thought about the fact that Jessie would be the only girl you’ve attempted to date. Listening to her admit her own concerns make yours seem less scary, you both are in this together. Suddenly your fears start to slip away.

“Why are you laughing?” Jessie’s tone seemed upset.

“Just this feels silly, that we’re both nervous, like we already practically act like we’re dating, just without the label. We get dinner together, we hang out everyday, we sleep at each other's houses, and now we have sex. Is it silly that we’re being so nervous?”

“Yeah I guess it is.” She gives you a smile. “Are we still doing this then?”

“Only if you want? Because I do, I want to.” You respond to her.

“I want to too.”

“Okay then get out, let me finally pick a shirt and I’ll be out. Maybe we can pretend this part didn’t happen?” You gently shove her toward the door.

“As a friend, I’d wear the white top.” She adds before she walks out of your room, closing the door behind her. You smile to yourself realizing she knew that your concerns and panic had stemmed from being unable to pick between two shirts, the two shirts had been laying on your bed next to where she had sat. It made you feel reassured, at the base of everything, she was your friend first, your date second.

You move over, throwing the white top on before looking in the mirror fixing your hair and taking a deep breath looking at yourself, the tears that came down your face tried, leaving small streaks. It’s not like you had to hide that you had cried, she was there when the tears came out. You give yourself another look over before walking out and back into the living room where Jessie was standing, pacing across the room.

“Hi.” You get her attention. She turns to look at you and you see her eyes scan up and down your body.

“You look good, especially that top.” She winks at you. Her eyes trailing back down to your shirt.

“Thanks, my best friend helped me pick it. Ready to go?”

“Where are we going?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” You grab her hand and your keys and pull her out the door. What Jessie didn’t know was the second you left her apartment earlier you had called in an order to your favorite local restaurant, ordering a small feast of sandwiches, sides, and desserts for you to pick up.

You walk to the car and Jessie drops your hand running head of you and attempts to open your door for you. She pulls on the handle but the door is locked, you hold her keys up in her direction.

“Unlock it, I’m trying to be romantic and open your door for you.” She complains to you. You unlock the car, letting her open your door. She closes it once you’re in and does a quick run to the passenger side before getting in herself.

You drive to the restaurant, parking and telling Jessie you’ll be right back. You run in and grab the food, coming back to the car and placing it in the trunk where you had already packed drinks and a blanket. You hop back in the driver's seat and start up the car again. It’s quiet between the two of you, not uncomfortable silence but just quiet, the music playing filling the car.

After a few minutes of driving you pull into a vacant parking lot on a golf course situated on the top of a hill.

“You know I play soccer not golf right?” Jessie says, realizing where you were.

“The course is closed anyway, we’re not golfing.” You say to her.

You park and unbuckle before getting out of the car. Jessie meets you at the trunk and helps you carry the food along with the drinks and blanket.

“Go ahead and just put the blanket down over there.” You point at an open patch of grass.

She lays out the blanket and you place the food down before taking off your shoes and climbing onto the blanket.

“Sit.” Patting the space next to you to get her to sit down. She listens and removes her shoes as well before sitting next to you.

“This is my favorite place to watch the sunset.” Telling her why you brought her to the top of an empty golf course. “I figured we could have dinner and watch it.” You gesture to the picnic in front of you.

As time passes you feel yourself relax, feeling like it was less of a date and more just spending time with Jessie. You talk about school for a bit, bringing up the exams you have coming up. The two of you pass food back and forth, sharing nearly everything you had ordered, each having a beer from the pack. Jessie talks about soccer, you both talk about your families, excited to go home and see them at the holiday break. You break open the desserts just as the sun begins to hide. It was easy being with her.

You both watch the sunset, the sun disappearing and leaving behind the cold night. You shiver, without the sun you wish you had brought a jacket. Jessie must have noticed and she’s suddenly removing her sport coat and moving to wrap it around your body.

“Thanks.” She just smiles back at you. When she sits back down she sits closer, your legs touching.

“You know,” you nudge her knee with yours, “for someone who claims they don’t know how to date you sure are doing all the right things.”

“What does that mean?” Jessie can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic with her or serious by your comment.

“You brought flowers, opened the car door, and gave me your jacket. All those things, very chivalrous of you.”

“I’m just trying, is it too much?” You realize maybe your intended compliment has not been received well.

“No, no Jess, I really, it’s been, you’re doing perfect.” You turn to her, putting your hand on her arm to reassure her. She turns and now you’re face to face.

It was funny, as she sits here looking back at you, you suddenly feel the nerves of the first date coming back. It’s as if you had never kissed her before, as if just a couple of hours ago she hadn’t had you bent over naked screaming her name. You were frozen, wanting to lean in and put your lips on hers but feeling unsure of how to. You find your eyes moving between her lips and eyes. Her tongue quickly peaks out, wetting her bottom lip. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you both lean in.

Something about this felt so different, you had kissed Jessie maybe 100 times at this point through the weeks, but there was something so soft and gentle and innocent about the kiss you shared.

Her lips were soft, gently pressed against yours, no intention behind them, no slip of her tongue, no wandering hands, just her lips against yours. Her hand is placed on your cheek, it’s cold from the nighttime air and is a strong contrast from her lips. She pulls away after only a couple of seconds, a smile pulling at her lips.

You don’t say anything, both of you just silently processing your first kiss, not as friends. That’s when you feel the first rain drop. It lands on your nose and then you see one hit her face as well. Within seconds the sky opens up and rain comes falling down.

You both let out a squeal and jump up, grabbing the remains of your picnic as quickly as possible and making a dash to the car. You throw everything into the car, not caring where it ends up before jumping in the front seat slamming the door behind you. Just the sound of you both breathing heavily from running and the initial shock of the rain fills the car.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say this was intentional. You were trying to make me wet.” Jessie gives you a suggestive glance.

“No actually, just forgot to check the weather. Sorry about that.” You peel off the coat she had given you and pass it back to her. You start the car, turning on the heat to warm you both up before you pull out of the parking lot and head in the direction of Jessie’s apartment.

“Let me at least walk you to the door.” You say as you pull in front of her house. You couldn’t lie, you maybe had the intention of walking her to the door, and following her inside and into her bedroom, but you weren’t going to say that out loud. You both get out of the car and make a quick dash out of the rain and toward her door. You follow here and you both squeeze under the small awning above her door. She places her hand on the doorknob and then turns back to you.

“I had a really nice time tonight.” Jessie then laughs at her own sentence. “Sorry that sounded too cliche. But really, I know we hang out all the time anyway but, I enjoy spending time with you, a lot.”

“I like spending time with you too Jessie.” It felt funny to be saying this to her, she obviously knew you liked spending time with her, that’s why you were friends in the first place.

“Can we do this again?” You were a little taken aback by Jessie’s question, sure you figured the date went well but with her history of not dating, you weren’t fully expecting her to initiate further dates.

“Yeah, we can.” A huge smile breaks onto your face as you look at Jessie, this could work.

“I’ll send you details then.” She holds up her phone, giving it a shake before sliding it into her pant pocket.

She takes a step closer to you and her hand finds your chin. She tilts your head up gently and meets your lips with hers in another soft kiss. You try to push her, letting your lips open a bit for her tongue to meet yours, but her lips stay tightly closed against yours.

“I don’t fuck on the first date.” She whispers in your ear as she pulls back from your kiss. The feeling of her breath on your ear has goosebumps trailing across your skin. The words she spoke sounded so innocent and yet so dirty coming from her mouth that it made you want to jump her bones in the hallway of her apartment. You knew she was just throwing your own words about not kissing before the first date back at you so you roll your eyes at her.

“Have a good night.” She gives you one last look, a cocky smirk across her lips before she turns back and opens her apartment door.

“Thanks, you too.” You say before her door finally shuts and you’re face to face with the wood panel. That was definitely not how you had expected the night to end. If you were confident about anything going into the date it was that you were going to end up naked under Jessie with her name falling from your lips at the end of the night. And yet here you stood, alone, fully clothed, with nothing more than a kiss to hold you over until the next date. For some reason you were filled with warmth even though you were going home to sleep in an empty bed, it felt like the opposite of lonely as you walked away from her door.

While you would have loved to be under Jessie at the moment, something felt reassuring that you both hadn’t immediately jumped into bed. She was treating you differently than other girls and she was treating this differently than when the two of you had just been friends with benefits.

You’re only a few steps away from Jessie’s door when she texts you and her cocky personality returns.

Jessie 🦖: feel free to dream about me tonight when you go to sleep

Jessie 🦖: or when you’re touching yourself later, I don’t mind ;)

[clancycatears]

BEFORE HE LEAVES CHAPTER FOUR

You pass your interview and prepare to start your college classes. Kyle has news to share with you, and you struggle with what he tells you.

chapter-specific warnings: humor, gentleman gaz, inaccuracies (military and college), a smidge of angst, anxiety, i hope the timeline so far makes sense.

Settling into the flat—your new life—with Kyle was easier than you thought.

But only for the first week.

It started with returning home to find a giant package on your doorstep. Your mattress. Thank you, Mémé.

It took only a few minutes to set it up in your open room. You had no bed frame, no box spring, and a mere blanket you’d brought to keep yourself warm on the flight to London.

“There’s no way that’d keep you warm!” Kyle had insisted, and with a twirl of his keys, he was out the door. You were left to finish unpacking alone.

Luckily, the bypass closet came with clothes hangers, so you could drape what you had onto a rod that extended throughout the length of the closet. When you took a good look at it afterwards, your heart sank to your stomach.

You really, really didn’t have a lot to your name. A few pairs of shirts and trousers, two cardigans, and a single zip-up hoodie. Okay, not only did you need to go to that interview, but you’d need to repeat outfits for a few days before you could hit up the local thrift store to get a tad more clothing.

Especially since winter was just in a few months.

Before you could sink deeper into thought, Kyle returned. The rattle of the door caught your attention and led you out of your bedroom. He elbowed through the front door with a giant clear bag of bedsheets in his hands.

You cross your arms, watching as he kicks the door shut with his foot, and discards his keys on the kitchen island. “What’s that?”

“Your duvet,” giggles Kyle, setting down the bag beside the sofa and rolling his shoulders. “That mattress was a full size, right? Hope so, ‘cause that’s what I got.”

“You really didn’t have to do that,” you murmur. It had to be the third time since you’ve known him that you’ve said that.

He shrugs, before picking up the bag and marching to your room. “Can’ have you getting much until y'start that job, yeah?”

You follow him in your room, your ears burning. “I could’ve lived without that for a few days.”

“S’okay. Wanna get you as comfy as possible before I gotta go,” he insists, opening up the package before draping your mattress cover on first. “You said that interview was on Sunday?”

“Yes. Can you drive me?” You lean on the threshold to your room.

“Oh!” Kyle perks up, just as he’d started to tuck in the fitted sheet. “That reminds me.”

You raise a brow as he stands up straight, digging into his back pocket. “Catch.” You flinch, cupping your hands out in front of you as he throws you a pair of keys.

“What’s this?” you ask dumbly, jingling the keys between your index and thumb.

“Spare keys for m’car,” he hums, returning to making your bed. “Ordered ‘em yesterday.”

You watch in disbelief as he folds sheet after sheet onto your mattress, keys squeezed under your palm as you let your thoughts wander once more.

Kyle was too trusting—too nice—for a man who was supposed to be a battle-ready Sergeant. Or maybe he could just read you like a book. Read that you were honest and helpless.

Then came Sunday.

Throwing on the most presentable clothes you have, Kyle wishes you a “good luck” from the kitchen as you shuffle out the door.

You don’t know how long you sat in the parking lot, foot tapping against the lower pads of the driver’s seat as you waited for your interview time. You just had to show up fifteen minutes early.

So you pass the time by observing the interior of Kyle’s car. It was neat, tidy. Even the dashboard looked shiny. There was an air freshener—the Little Trees brand—labeled as “Leather”. Didn’t exactly smell of leather, but it still smelled nice regardless.

The windshields were clean, like he’d just washed them. Every window was clear, not a smudge in sight. A few coins of change rested in the center console, along with a pack of gum shoved deeper inside.

Decent mileage on the car, at least for the Mustang. 80,000 miles so far. You feel a little crestfallen, because now that you're using it with him, the miles will rack up faster. You really needed to start saving up for your own beater so you didn't have to dip into your college fund.

The Mustang was a convertible, too. But you assume Kyle didn't use it often, because of how intact the vinyl was. Maybe a small rip or two here and there, but perfectly uncastrated overall. Maybe you could put it to good use when you have your turn with the car.

He took good care of his car, another observation to note.

When the interview with Holly came around, you could tell from her looks alone that she was friendly. Extremely nice, maybe even too nice. Looked to be in her early twenties, dressed professionally, and stacking papers in a café booth when you walked into the establishment.

She gave you a giddy grin, green eyes sparkling with excitement as you took your seat across from her.

The usual questions droned on.

“What are your strengths and weaknesses?” yada-yada-yada.

“Why did you choose us?” yada-yada-yada.

“When can you start?” Bam. Job secured.

Two years of working in a coffee shop in America piqued their interest. You were lucky to have been promoted into a shift manager just before your move, so that likely caught Holly’s attention.

No problem starting from the top again, you’ve done it once, you can do it again.

You left the café with a folded company apron, a short-sleeved shirt to wear under it, and some paperwork to fill out for direct deposits.

Walking through the door with your things, Kyle approaches you with a wide smile. “Ohhh, brilliant! Y'got it?”

“Yes,” you murmur, placing your keys in the dish you set up beside the air fryer. “I start on Wednesday for training.”

“Mm,” he hums, returning to the kitchen to wash a few stray dishes. “Y’get discounts?”

“Is that you asking for free coffee when I work?” You bring your uniform to the washing machine and dryer beside the front door, opening the washer up and shoving your apron inside.

“‘Course I am. Would you?” you can hear the smile on his lips.

You roll your eyes as you cross the kitchen towards your room. “I owe you, anyways. So sure. Pretty sure I could bring plenty home when training starts.”

He bends over to open the dishwasher, filling the racks with the last of the dishes before dropping a packet of detergent into its slot, and starting the cleaning process. “Y’owe me nothin’. Just wan’ some coffee once n’ a while.”

“I can do that.” You return to the washing machine with dirty laundry, adding it to what you’ve already stuffed inside.

Days dragged along, every one giving you a lingering, nervous ache. You were going to pick up where you left off in a new University, but in an entirely new country. New people, new places to see, new teachers and peers, in less than a week.

It was silly, you thought, to be this afraid. On edge. It’s only your third year, then you had just one more until you graduated with a bachelor’s degree.

Something about moving on from your norm, and out of your comfort zone, made you overthink over and over again. How should you act? Should you be yourself? Will the community be ruthless, or welcoming? It’d just have to come with time, the day you start your classes next Monday.

You and Kyle mingled, though not awkwardly in the slightest. He was sweet, gentlemanly, reliable—the perfect roommate, in your eyes.

Tuesday night, after you both cooked up a chicken and homemade macaroni dish together, was where you both got the most free time to actually talk to one another.

Bumping your knee softly under the table, you scrape up a spoonful of your macaroni, your eyes flicking up to find Kyle already looking at you. His cheeks bounced with every chew, his free hand tapping away at the polished wood, before he swallowed and opened his mouth to speak.

“So… about University starting…” he begins, voice low, solemn, like he was about to deliver the worst news of your life.

You gulp down your bite, straightening up in your seat slightly, only worsening the ache in your ass from a lack of cushioning. “What’s up?”

He rubs the back of his neck, pushing his fork into a slice of chicken to hold it in place. “So I'm leaving… gotta go away for a while. Next Tuesday.”

You pause, a spoonful of macaroni stopping midway. You place the utensil back on your plate, resting your elbows on the table to clasp your hands together. “How long?”

He’s quiet for a beat, and you can feel the table rattle as he bumps his knee in a faster tandem than your own. “Few months? Maybe five or fix.”

“Oh,” you utter, keeping your eyes on him, as he does the same with you.

You were aware he was leaving; he's reminded you at least twice. Though you never expected it to be so long. How would you manage without him? You still hardly knew what you were doing. You still found yourself forgetting your house keys or your purse on days where you needed to rush.

Kyle would be the one to blurt, "Oh, forgetting this?" while holding up your lost item. Not an ounce of teasing in his tone, just concern. Admittedly, you were going to miss that.

“But m’sure I c’n get breaks in-between,” he adds quickly, nudging his chicken with his fork. “Jus’ depends how it all goes.”

“You goin’ out of the country?” You scoop your neglected spoonful into your mouth and chew.

Kyle’s eyes cast to the side. “Yes, Herat. Afghanistan.”

You make a small, saddened noise of acknowledgment. You chew slowly, like focusing on the taste of your dinner would soothe the disappointment.

“Rent will pay automatically, don’ worry about that,” he assures, finally shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth. “Pays righ’ f’rm m’bank,” he adds, voice muffled through his chewing.

You nod slowly. “Should I be worried?”

He swallows, perking his head up to you with his brows raised. “‘Course not. Unless there’s a box at th’ door.” His stance hardens as your eyes widen. “Y’don’ have to worry ‘bout that, though. M’good at what I do.”

Your lips twitch into a frown. “Then don’t say it like that.”

“I c’n text, call, when I have time. But thas’ hard t’come by.” His voice pitches, like he’s working to reassure you. “You c’n throw parties, make a mess of th’ place, whatever. As long as it’s still home when I come back.”

Your frown only deepens. “M’not an animal.”

“I know,” he replies hastily, shaking his head and pinching the line between his brows. “Sorry. You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

You release a deep sigh, shoulders sagging as you swipe another bit of food into your maw. “Okay, just… Don’t die on me, yeah?”

He chuckles lightly. “Made it this far, haven’ I?”

Despite his efforts, the worry pooling in your stomach is hard to ignore. It festers—growls—whispers its words of refutation into your ears like it wanted to sit there every single day Kyle was away.

You both finished dinner in silence—and this time, not as peacefully. Kyle looked calm. Of course he did; he's done this for years. Leaves for periods of time and leaves the flat to its own devices.

Though now you're here. You could keep the place tidy, take care of Dodger just fine, and have all of the alone time that you desire.

But you didn't want alone time. The last thing you wanted to be was alone. The last thing you wanted was to barely hear from him while he was away. The last thing you wanted was to juggle school, work, and taking care of the flat by yourself. You wanted him here to show you the ropes—to soothe your nerves with his kindness.

You went to bed that night with your pillow tucked to your chest, heart tight and head pounding with the stress of being the woman of the house. You had to be, though. This flat was his and yours now. You had just as much responsibility over it as him.

You had to get out of your comfort zone.

Think of it like the café. Starting from the top shouldn’t be so bad, especially if you already knew what you were doing.

Wednesday morning is abrupt, the blare of your alarm jolting you from your dreamless slumber. Shoving your bedsheets away from your lap, you throw your feet over the mattress and stand up groggily. With a stretch of your arms, you approach your closet, opening it to find your neatly hung apron.

You stand there for a moment, gaze lingering on the article. Today, you get to know more people—more than just your Mémé and Kyle. You need to make a living. You can't chicken out and leave Kyle to pay the rent by himself.

You need t’meet people.

Tugging your apron free, you get to work, undressing out of your sleepwear and throwing on your uniform. Dodger lies curled up by your pillow, his curious green eyes following your every movement as you pace throughout the bedroom, collecting your belongings and shoving them into a small purse.

Wallet, check. Keys, check. Gum, check. Still, you double-checked.

You leave your room to the soft hum of music coming from the kitchen. Of course, Kyle was awake. He was always awake at least an hour or two before you. Rubbed off from his profession, he'd said once.

You smooth your apron down as you cross the kitchen and head straight to the front door. You don't say a word, but you can feel Kyle's gaze eventually burn into the back of your neck as you're shoving your non-slip sneakers onto your feet.

"Hey, mornin'," he murmurs, and you reply with a quick "morning" before tying your shoes together.

You hear him audibly sigh, and the music turns down a beat. "Mind getting me an espresso?"

"Sure, just text me how you like it," you mumble, scooping up your keys from your purse. "See ya."

As you're wriggling the door open and sliding out, you hear a small "see you" before you promptly shut the door behind you.

< chapter three || table of contents || chapter five >

taglist 🏷️ @santanatenofcups

© clancycatears 2025. do not copy, steal, translate, or feed my works to ai.

[jacaerysgf]

i just found out my boyfriend is a werewolf?!?!

summary: You overhear a super strange conversation between your long term boyfriend and brother.

r.q: hiii :) i LOVE your blog and fics and was wondering if you would consider writing a fic were jace is a werewolf. I don't have any particular trops in mind, ill let your Imagination run free. love you and take care 💞🫶🏻

w.c: 1.5k

cw: modern/supernatural (not the show) au, college cregan and jace, cregan’s twin!reader gn!reader, werewolf! cregan and jace, sort of a crack fic idk but not really, cliche werewolf i didnt try to do anything crazy with it, semi dialogue heavy, idk this ones just a fluff stupid fic

a.n: needed a cleanser from my longer fic so take this !! i tried to have fun with this and didn’t want to take it too seriously so i hope you guys like it!! LOVE UUU

Its been a week since you’ve spoken to your boyfriend. Its not your fault. What are you supposed to do when you overhear a conversation like that?

About a week ago you had gotten out of class early and you knew jacaerys was at your brothers place so you decided to pick up lunch for all three of you to surprise them. You try your best to quietly open the door and step in, opening your mouth to call to them but you shut your mouth quickly hearing your boyfriend Jace.

“You can’t tell them.” This has you curious but more so a little angry. you didn’t peg jacaerys for the type to do shit behind your back but you never really know. So you instead quickly move to stand hidden from view to listen to them.

“You can’t hide this type of thing from them man, what the hell are they gonna think when they find out.”

“they won’t”

You hear your brother let out a big groan, “They needs to know Jace they’re my fucking family im not gonna let you play around with them.”

Jacaerys voice changes and he starts to sound more angry, “You know im completely serious about them cre.”

“Then tell them you're a fucking werewolf.”

*……..*

*……..*

*…….*

*What?*

What the hell we’re they talking about? Werewolves? is this some type of sigma male podcast shit? or is he like into abo? You don’t understand.

“You haven’t told them you're a werewolf either cre.”

*WHAT?*

You almost pop your head around the corner to ask them what the fuck they we’re talking about because you could not wrap your head around what they were talking about? Werewolves aren’t real. Maybe they heard you enter and we’re trying to play a prank on you.

“You know i plan to you piece of shit.”

“Then don’t get on my ass about not telling them yet.”

“fine. but once i tell them you have to tell them man, i don’t like you keeping them in the dark.”

“i will i will i swear. You got a cover for this Friday?”

“Camping trip. Already let them know. Fuck i hate full moons man.” you do remember cregan telling you they we’re planning on going out for the whole weekend on a camping trip. You don’t like camping so you said no when he asked if you wanted to come, you thought he had a weird face on after you said no but now you’re thinking it was a face of relief.

They seemingly switch topic talking about what they were planning on eating and you look back at your car you can see from the window and remember you left the food in there. You can’t just enter now?! you have to leave, so once again you slowly leave the house praying that they had no clue you were there. You get back to your car and take your food from the bag before you walk the takeout bag to the door and leave it at the doorstep before running back to your car and driving off.

You only pull out your phone to text them you left them food but couldn’t stay to eat since you had a project to work on before you throw your phone to the back seat and let out a shaky breath. They had to be fucking kidding right? but for some odd reason it all made sense. Every month, and based on your calendar it always landed on a full moon, your brother and your boyfriend always happened to be busy and couldn’t be around.

Both of them are oddly strong, Your boyfriend often joked that he could smell you from a mile away when you asked why he never jumped when you tried to surprise him. when you went out to dinner with him on your first date you thought he would be a pretentious prick when he ordered a very rare steak but he just laughed it off nervously and told you that's just how he likes it. The more and more you think about him and his odd habits you come to agree with the disturbing realization.

He was a fucking werewolf.

It was easy to avoid the two of them for the first couple days. you had your own apartment so you didn't have any reason to have to go to your brothers but jacaerys was a lot harder to avoid. He would text you all the time asking if you wanted to hang or if you were free to go out with him and you feel really bad whenever you would say no or leave his messages unanswered. It was the worst when yesterday he had come knocking at your door. You didn't open it. Too nervous to face him. Your heart broke when you hear his dejected sigh before he walked away.

Today however he had not texted you at all. you begin to worry. You don’t want to break up with him. You love him, but you're not exactly sure how to approach all this. You can’t just ask reddit, hey, what do i do when i find out my boyfriend of two years is a fucking werewolf??? but you couldn’t sit still during class, Why hadn’t he reached out? he always says good morning but it was well into late afternoon and he still has not said a word to you.

You’re not paying attention when you leave class and end up running into somebody. Apologizing before you take a step back and freeze. “Jace.” He lets out a smile and a nervous breathy laugh, “Hi baby.” You let out a hushed hi and his eyes dart all over your face with nervous. “Come.” You can’t reject him when he’s standing right in front of you, so when he grabs your hand you make no move to protest and let him lead you.

Soon enough your following him to the park and gasp when you see a set up picnic table, he turns to you nervously. “You’ve been busy recently and we haven’t spent a lot of time together-” You cup his cheeks and press a kiss against his lips pulling away and giving him a big smile. All the past days worried washed away from you as you admire you cute boyfriend. “I love it.” He grins and pressed a peck to your lips as leads you two to sit down on the bench side by side, he’s always preferred to sit next to you than across from you.

You can tell that all the food inside the basket is store bought but it doesn’t matter, he’s never been much of a cook anyway. After awhile you had even forgotten why you hadn’t seen him until he quiets down and looks at you. “are we good?”

“are you a fucking werewolf?”

He freezes. You hadn’t meant it for it to come out like that but how else do you word asking him something like this? “its just i heard you and cregan have this really weird convo and i started to think about it and it made sense, i don't know im sorry i just-” he shushes you lightly and cups you cheeks turning your head towards him. “I am. and im sorry i never told you, i should have i know but its a difficult thing to bring up.”

You just nod your head lightly and sigh. “Werewolves are fucking real.” He laughs, “Yes.” “is it like twilight?” “no.” “you didn't put like a mark on me?” “is that a twilight thing?” “Youve never seen it?” “i don’t watch things with wolves in them it gives me the ick.” “we need to watch them.” “are you even listening to me?” “oh oh is it like teen wolf?” “absolutely not.” “ugh wait you’ve seen teen wolf?” “baela forced me to watch it.” “is baela a werewolf?” “no a witch.” “ughh lucky i would love to be a witch.”

“You believe me?” You tilt your head at him, “Why wouldn’t i? don’t tell me your lying to me.” he shakes his head as he smiles at you, “No no its just, i didn’t think this would go over so well.” You give him another peck on the lips, “I just wish you told me sooner, asshole. and i wanna know how all this shit works.” “deal.” You two share another kiss and press your foreheads against each other.

“So if cregans a werewolf then why am i not?”

“Wait you know cregans a werewolf?”

—

a.n i realized its a little weird that they didn’t notice you were there because they have a good sense of smell but im just thinking they were too lost in the conversation or you are over to cregans place often enough that his place smells like you. whatever ! idk!

perm jacaerys taglist: <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife

[p1z-d0n7jud6em3]

THINKING ABOUT…..

Nagi Seishiro with an archer!reader. Warning: mentions of death.

Your eyes pained and so did your head. You couldn’t stay awake. But the only comfort you had was the gravestone of your parents’. You remember it all vividly. Their anniversary party, and then when they said they’ll be going on a long drive. The police had arrived at your grandparents’ doorstep, saying they were no more. At the time, you couldn’t focus at all. You had blurred everything out. You were only twelve at the time. And your sister was ten. So what could you do?

Since your grandparents’ were retired and couldn’t take care of their granddaughters, they had decided to place you and your sister in foster care. You were scared but put on a brave face. Wherever you went. It was a nice place though. Thank God, it wasn’t like what you imagined. You and your sister had made new friends there. But three months later, a woman in her mid-fifties, had picked up you and your sister, and she was your guys’ foster parent.

She lived alone, and was a well-off woman, having money, and providing you and your sister everything you guys’ needed. Except for one thing: love. Love and affection. It’s not like she was abusive or toxic in any way. She was a very chill woman. You and your sister were scared to call her “mom”, and when you guys’ did so, you froze. You had blurted it out. Would she shout at you? Would she hit you? Would she drop you guys back at foster care? But no. She didn’t do any of those things. Instead, she muttered under her breath, “It’s fine to call me that, I really don’t mind it.” You guys were setting up the dinner table by then. You and your sister were grateful for everything. After all, she provided a roof under your guys’ heads, food, education, allowance, paid for your archery classes, and your personal needs. In fact, you and your sister didn’t really mind if she was a cold woman. As long as there was everything and everyone, it was fine. Pretty soon, when you had turned seventeen, you and your sister had moved out of her place and rented your guys’ own. You guys had still stayed in touch with her.

With you participating in the Olympics for archery at nineteen, things started to go uphill. There was money, and you had done what you loved, and would keep doing more. There was a better place and a life, for you and your sister.

Now back to the present.

Your late dad’s black coat was doing anything but helping you stay warm. You felt cold, even with the thick, grey turtleneck top you were wearing. You knew you looked terrible, eyes red and all, but the white-haired guy beside you didn’t mind. You knew your eyelids were swollen, your head hurting, and yet, the grey-eyed guy sitting cross-legged beside you, would still help you.

You were slowly falling asleep. Usually, whenever you would visit your parents’ graves, you would leave before you would break down or drown deep in the memories. But this night, you let yourself do so, as you were leaving the country tomorrow morning for your archery competition. So that is why you had decided to visit your parent’s graves for what seemed like the last time. Maybe.

And as you felt your eyelids slowly close, giving yourself up to sleep, Nagi leaned in, taking a look at your tired, but sleeping face. He then stood up, dusting himself off, then sighed, lifting you up bridal style, walking back to your sleek, black car.

It was never a hassle when he was with you. It was never a hassle when he talked to you. It was never a hassle whenever he watched you practice. And even now, it was never a hassle, you in his arms, and him walking back to your car, placing you in the passenger seat, (but not without a soft kiss on your forehead, and cheeks). Then buckling you up, walking to the driver's seat, and then driving you back home, where you belonged. A home where you could stay and live in peace. It’s never a hassle for him.

Divider by @hyuneskkami

[profoundbondfanfic]

Hey so i was wondering if you had any Kid!Fics that weren’t Mpreg or omega verse more like there is a child and now Dean and Cas are taking care of the child together and fall in love in the process. I love your page thank you

Hey! Glad you're enjoying our blog🩵 Here are a few we could remember:

A Fine Romance by DragonSgotenks (Explicit, 54k words)

Castiel was one of those Parents the other teachers referred to as a "hot mess" but Dean just thought he was hot, even if he did come off as kind of a dick sometimes. When an accident lands him in the ER Dean comes face to face with his biggest crush when he discovers Cas is his nurse. It seems like fate that he manages to strike up a friendship with the father of some of his favorite students. But with Castiel still bitter over the way his ex used him up and then left him with nothing but 3 young kids to raise on his own he may be guarding his heart with too much caution to let someone new in. Dean will have to find a way to thaw the ice around Cas' heart or risk letting his chance at happiness slip through his fingers.

Baby Whispering by EllenOfOz (Mature, 9k words)

When Castiel's babysitter falls through, he has no choice but to take Claire to class with him. But as it turns out, Dr. Winchester isn't so upset about a disruption to his class.

life as we know it by yolock (Explicit, 92k words)

The first time Dean and Castiel ever agree on something happens when when their shared best friend Kelly asks them to be the godparents for her baby. Being a godparent is mostly babysitting occasionally and buying gifts on birthdays, but then Kelly dies on a car accident, leaving her three year old son Jack with no one but his godparents to take care of him. Despite not liking each other at all, the two men take the responsibility left for them on paper, and find themselves on a situation neither of them had prepared for, co-parenting a three year old. As they learn to take care of a toddler together, they learn a lot about themselves and about each other. It's definitely not an easy ride, but it eventually leads to something neither of them saw coming: a family.

let's take a drive by sobsicles (Explicit, 121k words)

Dean takes a really, really long drive to kick fear in the ass. It might just be the best thing he ever decides to do. ~~~ The seat squeaks, and Dean follows the sound, his gaze trailing down. There—where Jack sat moments ago—is a much tinier version of him. He looks mostly the same, just...smaller and more dimply and cuter, if that's possible. His clothes have shrunk to fit him, so he's casually sitting in a t-shirt, jeans, and scuffed tennis shoes. He swings his feet from side-to-side over the edge of Baby's seat the same way Sam used to in the back, and he stares up at Dean with clear eyes.  "Oh," Dean blurts out, eyes bulging, "Cas is going to fucking kill me." 

Light Me Up by tricia_16 (Explicit, 195k words)

Five years after participating in a life-changing threesome with his then-girlfriend and her friend Cas, Dean's single, comfortably bisexual, and has everything he's ever wanted except for that special someone to share his life with. When tragedy strikes, he and Cas are reunited in an unexpected way, and a split-second decision entangles their lives in ways neither of them could have predicted…

Surprises by TessAlyn (Explicit, 32k words)

Castiel and Dean don't have much in common. Dean plays football; Cas watches nature films. Dean wears jeans and flannel; Cas prefers button-ups and waistcoats. Yet somehow, they become friends. And when Cas' brother suddenly leaves an unexpected surprise on their doorstep, the strength of their friendship, and what they mean to each other, is tested like never before.

Swan Upon Leda by kelsstiel (Explicit, 174k words)

Pediatric Surgery Fellow Dean Winchester meets baby Jack Kline and neuropsychologist Castiel Novak his first week on the job. Dean’s been accused a time or two of caring a little too much in the past and it’s hard not to care about the neurotic adoptive father and his medically needy preemie. After a series of run-ins between the pair, Dean and Cas develop a friendship that everyone else around them suspect more from immediately, though it takes them a little longer to get the memo. When Dean struggles with a particularly devastating patient loss, their mutual understanding of loss and love bring them closer in a way that neither of them could have expected.

The guy next door by Castielific (Explicit, 61k words)

When Dean Smith quit his job at Sandover, he had no idea what he was going to do with his life. He definitely didn't plan for his hippie neighbor and his four years old kid to make him question everything he thought he knew about himself. The neighbors to friends to lovers fic you never asked for, along with some cute baby!Jack

The Shawnee Trail by emmbrancsxx0 (Explicit, 166k words)

In 1887, Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak lead a peaceful life in Lawrence, Kansas. Dean and Sam are stagecoach messengers for Wells, Fargo and Castiel is the town doctor. When Castiel's patient, Kelly Kline, knocks on their door one night about to give birth, she asks for the Winchesters and Castiel's help in protecting her son against one of the west's most notorious outlaws. To fulfill that promise, the men set out on a journey full of shootouts, trouble with the law, gambling, and an important discovery: Dean and Castiel really need to define the nature of their relationship.

We Are by lotrspnfangirl (Explicit, 50k words)

When Dean broke things off with Castiel, right after graduation, he hadn’t anticipated the long term effect it would have. He’d done this, he ruined things, and he deserved to be punished. Despite trying to move on, he found himself at the bottom of a bottle more often than not. When Lisa took their son, Ben, away - well, he had nothing to keep him going. Castiel packed his broken heart across the country, swept up with a woman who only loved him for what he could give and another who treated his friendship as gold. When Kelly left him, leaving him broken once more, he threw himself into raising his son, Jack, and letting him know how loved he was. When a broken teenager came into his life, he absorbed Claire into his family and took a chance, moving back home to the small town life, for a better chance for them all.

Also, the Dadstiel Bang starts posting on August 26th, so you might find more fics there. And we also have a "as parents" tag that might interest you.

[thegr33nc0met]

Ooo, hi! Could we get any Yandere Stu Macher headcanons! And also if you do the whole “__ anon” thing, I’d like to be 🐈‍⬛ Anon!

Thank you! And don’t feel the need to rush, whenever ur ready is fine

Yandere Stu Macher Headcanons ♥︎

CONTENT WARNINGS: Yandere behavior, Slight Dub Con, NSFW, GN Reader/Unspecified anatomy, Stu being a perv, mentions of murder, mentions of kidnapping, Pet name (Stu calls reader cutie), I think that’s it??

♥︎ the moment he saw you he was absolutely smitten (I mean how could he not?? look at you you’re gorgeous!!)

maybe he saw you at school talking to Tatum or Sidney, or at the video stare talking with Randy. he came skipping up to the two of you with a huge grin on his face, unable to take his eyes off you. “who’s this cutie?” he’d ask. the way you blushed at him calling you a cutie, oh it was over for you.

♥︎ he’s always looking at you with big heart eyes

♥︎ even before you two become a couple, he’s always in your space. privacy? what’s that?? never heard of her. he’s so clingy once you two get closer. he’s always gotta have an arm wrapped around your shoulder or waist whenever you’re with him (which is basically always). any free time you have will be filled with spending time with him, whether you’re hanging out with the group or it’s just the two of you.

♥︎ Billy immediately catches on to how obsessed Stu is with you, but he doesn’t really care (as long as you don’t get in the way of their plans, who’s he to come between ‘love’ right?). the others think it’s cute how much he likes you, not catching on to the dangerous obsessive side he has.

♥︎ I believe that Stu’s love language is gift-giving and acts of service. you two are at the local strip mall and he sees you eyeing something a little too long?? boom. it’s on your doorstep or in your locker the next day.

♥︎ I don’t see Stu is a very jealous yandere. he sees someone flirting with you, he doesn’t need to worry. you’re his and they don’t stand a chance with you (especially if they’re six feet under).

♥︎ but what happens when you start to like someone else? what happens when he sees you sparing longing looks at someone in your shared history class? when he sees you and that person laughing together in the halls and spending more time together?

♥︎ seeing you look at another person like that… he feels his heart sink. but that sadness and disappointment is quickly pushed to the side by annoyance. he plasters on a fake smile and saunters up to the two of you by your locker, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “hey, cutie.” he greets, looking down at you and not even sparing a glance at the person you were talking to. the person would get uncomfortable and mumble out something like “I’ll see you later…” before walking away.

before you can chastise Stu for being rude, he’s begging you to come over after school. and how could you say no to his big blue pleading puppy dog eyes? he pumps his fist victoriously with a goofy grin before the two of you head to your separate classes.

the drive to his place is… tense. you can sense something’s off with him, despite the smile on his face he’s clearly trying to hide. the car is silent, save for the soft music from the radio, until he speaks up. “so that person you were talking to earlier…” he starts. “you like them?” he asks, his voice neutrally casual.

“I guess…” you respond, shrugging lightly. you notice his knuckles are white from gripping the wheel tightly. neither of you say anything. you feel your heart nervously thump in your chest.

the hang out at his place is normal. you watch a few movies, play a card game, and order a pizza until he decides to take you home.

♥︎ their body was found in the lake the following Sunday.

♥︎ Stu holds you in his arms as you cry after you heard the news (trying to avoid pressing his boner up against you, getting harder from every sob that escapes your mouth. trying to restrain himself from pushing you onto your back and leaving wet kisses all over your pretty face. biting back how badly he wants to tell you how pretty you look when you cry).

♥︎ weeks later, when you seem to have calmed down from the death of your crush, he invites you over again. the credits to Texas Chainsaw Massacre had rolled around, you were leaning on the arm of the couch with your legs laid across his lap. as you silently watch the words scroll by on the screen, he leans down, pressing a kiss to your neck. he pauses when he feels your body jolt beneath him in surprise.

“what are you doing?” you ask. he doesn’t respond, only smirking before pressing a few more kisses to your neck. he experimentally nips at your skin, smirking when he hears your breath hitch. he won’t force himself onto you if you ask him to stop, starting to push at his shoulders in an attempt to push him off.

but he would definitely be disappointed. after all he’s done for you? after all he’s had to sacrifice??

“come on, cutie…” he’d whisper against your neck. “don’t you wanna feel good?” he’d almost giggle at the thought of having you.

♥︎ without any further protest, he’d continue kissing your neck, sucking hickeys onto your flesh for everyone to see who you belong to. he’d rip your pants and underwear off, nearly tearing the fabric in the process (he’d give you a half-assed apology later if he had to). the clothing would barely be at your knees before he’s diving head-first into your crotch, licking and sucking every inch he can, moaning around you whenever your breath hitches and you lightly tug on his hair.

“you like that?” he’d grin devilishly against your sensitive flesh, giggling when you’d jolt and whimper from the intense pleasure. he’d hold your thighs down once you start squirming from over stimulation, and there’s not a snowballs chance in hell you’re breaking loose unless he wants you to because that man is strong. he’d find it cute how you whine and kick you legs as you beg him to stop or slow down. but he doesn’t. because you want to make him happy, right??

♥︎ by the time he finally pulled away from you, he had ripped three orgasms from you, his chin and your thighs covered in your fluids and his spit.

♥︎ but don’t think he’s done!! not one bit. he gave you plenty of pleasure, so it’s only fair you do the same right??

♥︎ he’ll slide himself inside you, not deterred by the pained whines you let out from your oversensitivity. he has a high stamina, and can give you at least three more orgasms before he cums inside of you, moaning into your ear or against your lips.

then he’d cuddle back up next to you once he’s done and fall asleep with you wrapped in his arms<3

♥︎ if you thought he was clingy before you had sex, oh boy you’re in for a treat. autonomy?? never heard of her.

after classes? he’s right outside the door the second the bell rings (because of course he’s memorized your schedule). oh, you need to take a shower? he’s sitting on the toilet lid, waiting for you to finish up while he talks your ear off about anything and everything (on the off chance he doesn’t just join you in the shower, hogging all the water). basically, you’ll never get a moment of privacy.

♥︎ I don’t think he would be the type to kidnap you unless you tried to break up with him. he’s so unserious about it too. like you better be talking about a kitkat bar because he doesn’t know anything about any “breaks.” it’d be easy for him to kidnap you too. he knows everything about you, so he’d know the perfect time and place for it. and it’s not like his parents are ever home. and you’d be happy living with him, right? he’s provided for you and taken care of you so far, right??

i hoped you liked this!! this was my first time writing head canons in this style so i hoped it turned out alright🧍

[crushedsweets]

i'm so obsessed w your blog you really unlocked all the nostalgia that's always waiting under the surface frfr i hope you send me spiraling all the way down again i miss it here so bad. anyway can i ask. what u got on... jane my beloved... sowwy if there's already like. posts abt it i'll go thru your whole blog someday and learn everything like my uni books xx

ok some quick warm up doodles this morning to go with the chat i got... tw for torture, stalking, really sad stuff.

link to my au that has a page with her in it

ok to start off with, jane/liu aren't TOO present in my story because jane and liu live really normal lives. most of their personal story is about recovery and growth, they were victims not aggressors. they're more involved in ninas story, rather than the overarching slender/operator paranormal problems...

jane grew up in an upper middle class household with incredibly loving parents. she was majoring in criminal psychology and lived with her parents, since they were close to the uni. it was during her second year in university that jeff began stalking her. he'd leave dead animals on her doorstep, light fires in her garbage cans, shatter windows without even entering the house, key her car, leave cryptic writings on her car that say stuff like '1f' (1female) to further scare her.

it wasn't that there was anything special about jane, but she had a super easy, very strict schedule to follow. her uni classes were all in the same building at the time, her car had a few cute stickers and decorations on/in her car that made it easy to spot, she only worked sat-mon at a cafe near her university. she was a happy person. easy victim he thought

eventually, while jane was out, he broke into her home and assaulted her parents. whether he used drugs or just stabbed them in the right place to make them immobile idk, but he got them tied up in the kitchen at some point. he was torturing them, doing the typical carved out smile bullshit, and he planned on leaving them for jane to find that night -- but, for the first time, her schedule was different. she came home from work while he was drenching the house in gasoline.

he panicked upon hearing her absolutely gutwrenching scream and quickly lit the trail of gasoline while she was trying to untie her dad (her mom was long gone by this point, her dad was barely managing a few wheezed breathes). he went to go finish jane off. he slashed her face, from her right temple, down her cheek, splitting her mouth in half and getting down to her left jaw. but the fire was spreading way faster than he anticipated, and he already heard sirens, so he bolted.

jane suffered 3rd degree burns covering her entire right leg and arm, it reached up her neck and her face, alongside some other parts of her body. she was pulled out of the fire, rushed to the hospital, and barely managed to survive.

jane had some outside family to support her, but her biggest supporter was her friend from middleschool mary vaugn. she moved into mary's house, took a semester off of school for recovery. the second she felt physically able to, she tried to drive herself right back into school, regardless of her mental condition.

she changed her major to criminal justice. she eventually graduated, fell in love with mary, got married, became a private investigator, etc. she spent a while working on jeff's case, losing sleep and hair over it- she was getting into some sketchy things to try and figure it out, because by this point jeff and ben were friends, and slenderman needs ben's help, so jeff's now protected by slenderman

but jane is one stubborn fucking woman and kept going. instead of sending the proxies to subdue jane, he sent sally.

sally was another poltergeist that kept haunting homes with newborn babies. she was attracting some attention, but slenderman cant physically stop a ghost - so he spent some time talking to sally, connecting with this little ghost girl and convincing her 'you're doing such a great job protecting all these infants, but this one needs you now'

he sent sally off to live with jane. mary's sister was staying with jane/mary after having a baby, so sally agreed to protect the baby. jane quickly welcomed sallys presense, always having believed good things of protective spirits. her mom used to tell her stories of how her grandmother's ghost would always come and soothe jane in her infancy (whether its true or not doesnt matter to jane) .

sally eventually became more than a presence to jane, almost completely integrating herself into her household's daily life. even after mary's sister and her baby left, sally stayed with jane. she felt safe there. (it helped that there were no men in the house too)

jane cares for sally like a daughter for a long time, and begins to redirect her life towards sally, rather than hatred for jeff. she never fully recovers from that night, and she never ever ever ever fucking 'forgives' jeff in any way, but she puts it aside for a while.

but sally is still a spirit, and does her fair share of wandering. she's always landing herself in the cornfields, the forest, etc, and jane goes frantic looking for her -- which is where she eventually bumps into the proxies. it's a huge mess, but she finds out what the fuck slenderman is and whats happening in that forest, but she just . . cant do anything about it. for sallys sake

eventually they get to the point where jane commonly finds herself walking in the forest with sally, or the proxies have to call jane and tell her to 'get her ghost kid' from the forest, etc.

at some point in this she also connects with liu. i don't know who reaches out first, whether it be liu desperately wanting to apologize for everything, or jane trying to figure out anything about jeff she can use to find him. this is how she finds out about nina.

jane smacked the shit out of nina when she first met her, in front of the proxies, who had to pull them apart. (i love nina but she deserved it after idolizing jeff). but nina is really fucking weird and began to idolize jane as well, and sally liked nina, which made it even more complicated, and that's why jane is the first person nina calls after jeff stabbed her ...

by this point janes hoping nina can heal, hoping liu can heal, hoping she herself can heal. ITS VERY HARD. its so unbelievably painful. that's basically where her story is at right now...

on a more positive note, she has a beautiful relationship with mary, and was hugely accepted in mary's family. she does poetry, creative writing, and is passionate about her career. she takes some extra creative writing/art courses at the local community college, just out of pure interest. she does her best to live a peaceful life

a bit off topic, but here's a little thing i copy and pasted from an old hc post too:

i cannot explain how close jane and her parents were. she was an only child in a upper middle class house to a lawyer and a real estate agent so she was always spoiled rotten, taken care of, always told how beautiful and smart she was. hence why losing them is the most fucking detrimental shit to ever happen to her. she literally worhsips her parents. she’s wore mothers wedding dress to her own wedding. her uncle(dads brother) walked her down the aisle holding a framed photo of her dad. she almost refused to walk during her university graduation because her parents couldn’t be there, despite the years worth of hardwork and dedication she put into it.

[definitely-not-outlet]

The Great Experiment - Chapter 2

Chapter Title: Walking the Floor Over You

Norm MacLean x Elodie Brooks (OC) | Pre-War AU

Masterlist | AO3 | <- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

-----

The MacLeans were, apparently, far richer than Elodie remembered.

They used to live in the same neighborhood, a suburban sprawl of ranch style houses and the occasional two-level saltbox. It was a neighborhood of accountants and teachers, of nurses and secretaries. The school was ten blocks away, but best accessed by car. Elodie would get new toys for Christmas, but it was never too frivolous. No one ever had too much, especially not if you wanted to keep your reputation as an upstanding citizen. By all means, though, it was a standard life, even if the impending war only made it feel a tad superficial.

The same war had most definitely helped the eldest MacLean secure a small mansion in the suburbs of Los Angeles, with at least two high-end sports cars in the garage.

She straightened her back as she walked from the driveway, taking a deep breath as she passed elegantly trimmed shrubbery and exotic plants. It wasn’t the most ostentatious place she’d seen in Los Angeles, no. That title was reserved for the estate of actual celebrities, ones she’d seen in passing whilst driving around aimlessly on her first day off.

Those were… something else entirely.

Elodie softly shook her head, dismissing the thought as she climbed the short steps to the front door. The actual house itself was nice, yes, in comparison to the meticulously maintained grounds surrounding it. All she really had to do was knock, but even the act of standing on the doorstep of the MacLeans was intimidating.

Fuck. This shouldn’t be so hard. They were her neighbors for a decade. She used to swim in their pool every day in the summer. Lucy and Norm would come over and hijack her jungle gym. They’d play hide and seek with her sister, Kath, even if she’d cry when she couldn't find anyone. If she remembered correctly, they’d even had group Halloween costumes, mostly chosen by Lucy and forced onto the others. She knew them, technically, but it all felt so different. It was different.

She’d been apart from them for far more years than they were together. They left thirteen years ago. She knew them for eleven.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she took another deep breath, trying to still her racing heart as she reached out and hit the doorbell. Even it felt ridiculously out of her socioeconomic class, the sound echoing around the interior before-

“Miss Brooks,” a Mr. Handy said, pulling the door open. It whirred in front of her, all three eyes lazily pointed her way. “A pleasure. You may come in.”

Elodie’s eyes widened. Most people she interacted with didn’t have a robot manning the door. But, given the rest of the house and grounds, she didn’t know why she was so surprised. Regardless, was the robot actually someone she could listen to? There was a chance that Hank might get mad if she listened to it, said the anxiety flaring in her gut.

“It’s Dr. Brooks actually, but, uh,” she said, peering into the seemingly empty house. “Are you sure?”

“Mister Hank insisted I let you in. He’s upstairs at the moment, and Miss Lucy is getting ready,” the robot explained. “Mister Norman has not yet arrived home from work.”

Elodie nervously inhaled, then nodded. It would be better than standing outside and waiting around, because that would definitely be embarrassing. She’d rather take her chances and blame the robot if anything went south.

“Alright, thank you.”

The inside of the house was surprisingly charming, littered with comfortable rugs and pictures along the walls. It was immaculately clean, though, and Elodie worried she should have taken her shoes off at the door.

Whatever. She could blame the robot for that, too. She just hoped it couldn’t read her thoughts, but with how technology was advancing, there was always that chance.

As the Mr. Handy led her into a living area, Elodie found herself gravitating towards a small curio cabinet, the top of which was littered with random photographs. Most were of the whole family, but none of those were recent. They were all from their house on the East Coast, two doors down from Elodie’s house. There was a singular, individual photo of Rose, flanked by professional graduation photos of Norm and Lucy. Scattered around them, then, were the various family photos.

Now that she thought of it, Hank hadn’t even mentioned that Rose would be here. The Mr. Handy hadn’t mentioned her either. Elodie knew she couldn’t ever ask, but she couldn’t deny that she was curious. If they’d divorced, her photo likely wouldn't be in such an esteemed position. It could be that the kids insisted their mother was there, but…

She could have passed away.

No. That was rude to think.

Elodie turned her attention back to the graduation photographs, analyzing their expressions and facial features. Lucy looked exactly as Elodie remembered, albeit a few years older and presumably taller. She’d graduated with some sort of advanced degree, it seemed, given the regalia on her graduation photo. Norm had the typical baccalaureate attire, and looked similar to how Elodie remembered. If anything, he looked a bit more tired and annoyed.

Her eyes trailed over to the younger photographs. There was a family photo at one of Lucy’s birthday parties. A photo where Norm and Lucy were building a sandcastle. A photo where Norm was standing next to his science fair project, with Rose to one side and…

Wait.

That was Elodie.

She glanced to the side, realizing she’d been left to her own devices. The Mr. Handy had disappeared from the room, and so, the scientist figured it wouldn't hurt to just take a closer look. Gently, her hand pulled the photo from the masses. The little girl there, it had to be her. Pin-straight hair that mostly refused to stay curly, with the exception of its ends, which curled in opposite directions. The worst glasses frames known to man. Her favorite jumper, with pockets likely full of random flowers.

And Norm… she could remember so much more when she saw what he actually looked like back then, not clouded by years of forgetfulness and life. The photo, though, helped in bringing back the faintest memories of drawing those lopsided plants on their poster.

The science fair project was entirely her idea. They grew flowers in different environmental conditions, and even managed to dye a white flower red through soil additives. It was the first real spark in her agricultural passion, and she’d entirely forgotten that he was there with her. It felt silly, to forget such a simple thing as him being there. He was the one who’d insisted on adding a sunflower, since they were her favorite flower. She argued, saying they should add the daisies from the experiment. Rose told them to compromise, and-

“What are you doing?”

The picture frame slipped from her fingers, shattering against the floor with a resounding crash. Her heart dropped to her stomach, and she swore the combined amalgam of organs within her torso almost fell out of her body. It sure felt as if they had, at least, and she’d become a pile of goo on the floor, right with the shards of glass, the splintered pieces of frame, and a still-intact photo.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I was just looking, and, I-I just,” Elodie said, words rushed as her mind began to panic. She bent to the floor, trying to grab the pieces of broken glass that littered the spotless hardwood. She collected a few into her palm before a hand reached out to stop her.

“Stop, I’ll just get the robot to do it.”

The befuddled scientist looked up, locking eyes with the man she’d just seen in all those photos. He looked exactly like the graduation photo, if not a bit more disgruntled.

She had dropped a bunch of glass onto his floor, so it made sense.

“I’m so sorry, I-I don’t want to leave your nice floor a mess.”

“It’s fine. We have a robot for a reason,” he said, sighing. “You’re Elodie, right?”

“I- yeah. Yes,” she said, feeling her face heating up more and more. There were still a few shards of glass cupped in her palm, and he held out his hand to her.

“Come on,” he said, “you need a bandage. I’ll help.”

“No, I-”

Elodie looked down, and sure enough, there was a smear of blood across her pointer finger. The blood beaded up and ran down her skin, barely caught by her other hand. She couldn't bleed on their floors, she’d definitely never be able to forgive herself if they were permanently stained by her own mistake.

“Elodie,” he said, voice a bit softer. “Bandages. I’ll clean that up after.”

She nodded, dropping the rest of the shards and taking his hand in her non-bloodied one. He pulled her to her feet, and she was slightly surprised to see that he was still shorter than her. As a kid, he was always the smaller one, but that really didn’t matter much to her. And it definitely didn't matter now, with the slightest twinge of pain spreading outwards from her finger. He led her to the nearby bathroom, and she leaned against the counter as he rummaged through the medicine cabinet.

“You’re Norman, I assume,” she said, knowing she was stating the obvious.

“Just Norm is fine. But, what gave it away?”

“You look like you. But older,” she snickered a bit to herself, even while she cradled her injured finger to her chest.

“Hm,” he said, pulling a box from a random drawer, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t meant negatively,” she said, holding out her hand.

His hands were surprisingly soft as he patted the area with an alcohol pad. Her eyes were trained onto his fingertips, which deftly pulled open the bandage, and wrapped it around her finger.

“I’m surprised you’re here,” he said. “I didn’t expect it to actually be you.”

“Vault-Tec transferred me out here, and gave me a good position,” she said, sighing. “In all honesty, I didn't expect to find you all here either. I thought you just disappeared into the world, and I’d never see y’all again.”

“We did leave randomly, huh?”

“You did.”

Norm sucked his teeth with a snap.

“My dad got transferred, or something. Then my mom got sick, and the best hospital for her was out here,” he said, sighing. “It’s a long story.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” she said, taking her hand back and flexing it. “You don't have to explain.”

Norm looked up at her, eyes wide and face scrunched up in some sort of unreadable emotion.

“Are you also on the Three Vaults Project?”

She figured he’d change the subject. It was abrupt, but she decided to just go with it. She didn't need to know any more anyways. That had largely answered her question, but she bit back the urge to know more.

“I am,” she said, looking down at her patched-up finger. He’d done a good job with it. “They have me working on the hydroponics set-up. I just started designing the actual system for the atrium, but they haven’t let me in to actually get measurements.”

She needed to stop blabbering about top secret projects, but given that he’s addressed it first, she figured it was probably okay for him to know anyways.

“I’m in IT. I've been setting up the servers for admissions,” he sighed. “It’s boring, since they’re having us use an employee database until we have an actual roster. We’ll have to input it again, but at least we know the system works.”

“Seems like a waste of time. And… weird,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Eh, it’s Vault-Tec, that's what they do best,” he replied, with a second of silence before he continued his train of thought. “When my dad told me you were coming over, I was confused on why your name felt so familiar.”

“Does your dad frequently bring up random people from your past?”

“No. And I didn’t know why you felt familiar until he explained it,” Norm said, chuckling a bit. “But, you felt more recent than that. Turns out, you’re one of the people I had to input. Out of hundreds of other employees, I remembered your name, for some reason.”

“So you remembered me from the database, and not our childhood, or the picture in your living room?”

“I don’t really go in there,” he said, taking a step back from her and moving towards the door frame. “Not my favorite place in the house.”

“What is your favorite place, then?”

“My room,” he said, “because I just broke open my computer to upgrade it.”

“Still a dork, I see.”

“You have a doctorate.”

“How,” she paused, furrowing her brows, “how do you know that?”

“It was on your personal file,” he responded, continuing to walk out of the room.

She followed him, raising an eyebrow as they made their way back to the dining area.

“How do you remember my information, though? Like you said, hundreds of employees.”

“Lucky guess,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets as he strolled through the living room. “My dad told me you were coming over yesterday, so I looked you up to make sure you were actually in the database, and I wasn’t making stuff up. I felt crazy for a bit.”

“What I’m hearing is, you stalked me.”

She giggled, and he didn’t seem amused, with how his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth was pulled into a frown. She’d uncovered something she wasn’t supposed to, it seemed.

“I did not.”

“What other random facts did you memorize?”

“Nothing. Except that you’re born in the same town as me, and your birthday is two weeks after mine.”

Those were a given, but it was always fun to tease him.

“God. Such a creep.”

“Whatever.”

She grinned as they turned the corner, and were face to face with Lucy and Hank, who were chatting with each other about something entirely unintelligible to the scientist. Hank looked at Elodie, and she swore she saw him smirk. Lucy’s face instantly lit up as she rushed over, giving Elodie an impromptu hug, and distracting her from anything else.

“It’s so nice to see you again! Wow, you’re so tall now! You’re as tall as me!”

“Funny how that worked out,” Elodie chuckled a bit, awkwardly smiling as Lucy pulled back.

“Yes. Oh, I’m so excited to catch up. I heard you went to VTU too?”

Elodie nodded, and heard Norm snicker to himself. It didn't matter, though, as she focused on the fact that she actually had people to connect with (or, well, reconnect with) in this city that was far, far more vast than she was used to.

The MacLeans were an interesting bunch to be around, Elodie learned. She followed them into the dining area, where the robotic servant had set the table. It whirred menacingly nearby, and she gave it a nervous glance, half wondering if it would suddenly come forward about a pile of glass in the living room. Luckily, it didn’t, and she took a seat across from Norm, who was quick to slouch against the table.

Hank gently scolded him, and the youngest MacLean groaned in response, leaning back against his chair and rolling his eyes.

“So, Elodie, what’d you do at VTU?”

Lucy’s eyes locked onto hers, filling the scientist’s stomach with a sickening anxiety.

“I… went for Agricultural Engineering,” she said, clearing her throat. “Ah, actually, Agricultural Sciences. My doctoral thesis was on sustaining large-scale plant growth in a vault setting, which…”

She eyed Hank carefully, but he was chatting with the Mr. Handy that’d somehow floated noiselessly to the head of the table. In the back of her mind, she wondered if it was the same one that’d greeted her at the door, or if they had multiple, which seemed entirely plausible at this point.

“I assume that’s what made me stand out.”

“That’s definitely useful,” Lucy said, grinning. “I remember, someone in my program was proposing that all the dwellers eat a nutrient gruel to cut costs. He got… held back a few years.”

“That’d make living in a vault even worse,” Norm said, picking up one of his forks and poking at his empty plate. “Who lets these people make these ideas?”

“Our professors,” Lucy said, looking over at him. “Ah, I forgot you didn’t make a thesis.”

“I almost participated in one,” he replied.

“They always scared me,” Elodie said, trying her best to resist the urge to mimic Norm and fidget with her own utensils. “Living in a vault always scared me.”

“Well, hopefully it never comes to that,” Lucy said, smiling in a way Elodie had seen all throughout VTU. Lucy was, most likely, one of their star pupils, given her entire pre-LA life on the East Coast consisted of endless merit awards. She was probably even valedictorian, if the sheer amount of regalia on her graduation photo was any indication of her accomplishments.

Before anyone could reply, though, a second Mr. Handy brought out a tray of dishes, placing them in front of each person and announcing that tonight’s dinner was freshly made Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes. It was instantly distracting and intoxicating, as Elodie hadn’t realized just how hungry she was until this very moment. The smell alone…

“Thank you for inviting me, Mr. MacLean,” she said, hesitating to eat until he’d started his meal. He looked at her, then smiled.

“No need to thank me at all, Elodie,” he said, picking up a fork and knife, “and, you can just call me Hank. I won’t write you up.”

Norm exhaled air through his nose, but the other MacLeans ignored it.

“S-still, thank you, I really do appreciate it,” she said, “Hank.”

It felt weird to call him that.

He didn’t reply, and neither did anyone else. Norm was already three bites into his meal, and she inadvertently locked eyes with him while trying to find something interesting to set her gaze on. He raised an eyebrow, and, as if on cue…

“Elodie, what happened to your finger?”

Her eyes went wide as she turned to face Lucy, who was cutting up her own meal.

“It’s, ah… I had an accident at work. Rogue piece of paper, y’know? Papercut.”

She looked back at Norm, and he was almost smiling, as if to mock her ineptitude. It wasn’t her fault that his family was made of know-it-alls with far too much perception for their own good.

“Oh, yeah. Hopefully it heals up soon!”

“Hopefully. I use my hands a lot, though, so it’ll take a while.

She turned back to her meal, quickly shoving far too much mashed potatoes into her mouth so that she’d have an excuse not to talk. As she contemplated just how she’d gotten into this situation, and all the ways she could maybe get out of it, Hank started some conversation with Lucy about what they should plant in their gardens. Elodie knew it’d be best to contribute, and it was probably brought up by the eldest MacLean to give her a chance to involve herself, but she couldn’t help the sense of anxiety building in her stomach.

And, for the umpteenth time in the past five minutes, her eyes landed back on Norm. He tilted his head towards his dad, then motioned with his eyelids in tandem.

Talk to them.

She swallowed, clearing her throat as she readied herself.

Yeah. She could do this.

“Y’know, I’d really love to help pick out some flowers, and some harvestable crops. We can start with…”

Norm grinned in genuine enjoyment, and yet, Elodie was none the wiser.

[racinginchid3nt]

I’d Probably Still Adore You | Part One

Y/N x Lance Stroll, Y/N Best Friend x Pierre Gasly

In which a night at the club and a game of never have I ever turns into something new

Inspired by 505 - Arctic Monkeys

Warnings: none yet. so far it’s just build up

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six

————————————————————————

While you weren’t a newbie to watching the races, you’d never done so in person. Work kept you busy and the idea of wasting precious vacation days on a flight to sit in the rain instead of on your couch wasn’t your idea of enjoyment.

Your friend had been dating Pierre for a few months now. Having spent the past week fighting, she forced you to take a weekend off and fly to Belgium with her for the race at Spa. He had surprised her with an extra plane ticket and paddock pass as an apology.

As you had packed the night before, Y/N Best Friend had appeared at your doorstep, arms full of garment bags. As soon as she saw the comfortable, weather appropriate outfits you’d selected, she started ripping through your suitcase and adding in her own picks.

“We’re going to be in the paddock, not the grandstands. We have to look the part Y/N” She’d said.

“Besides, there’s plenty of eye candy and you’re single. Might as well make the trip worthwhile. You know our shared hotel room will basically be yours the entire trip.”

“Honestly Y/N Best Friend, I’m not sure that’s the best idea. I’ve heard enough horror stories about most of the guys to make it clear that I should steer clear.”

“You don’t have to marry him Y/N! I just think it would be more fun if you joined me on these trips more. A girl can dream. Besides, it doesn’t have to be a driver. Some of the mechanics are definitely worth a second look.”

“Screw it. Pack what you want but don’t take anything I packed out” You admitted with defeat. Maybe she had a point. A little harmless flirting never hurt anyone, and how much damage could one weekend do.

The journey to the airport in the hired car was relaxing. And when you boarded into first class and champagne was waiting at your seats, it was a welcome surprise.

The flight from Barcelona has lasted only a few hours and before you knew it you were gathering your purse and carry on to disembark. It was only Wednesday so you were able to relax as you got to the hotel. The suite was beautiful and Pierre had sent flowers to greet his girlfriend. As you unpacked, the two of you began to plan the weekend’s festivities.

Thursday would be filled with media day around the paddock, followed by Friday free practice and qualifying, then Saturday sprint. The race on Sunday would wrap everything up.

————————————————————————

Thursday

Media day started early. The time adjustment was rough but the calm arrival day helped. You were going with Y/N Best Friend and Pierre to the track. He had interviews and Alpine press responsibilities. The two of you would spend the day in hospitality.

Your paddock pass hung around your neck. A tag on a lanyard with your name and face. The drive in was crazy, with fans already lining up to see the drivers. Your best friend waved you ahead so she could help fans get their autographs and you entered security alone.

Seeing the track in person felt surreal. Larger than life, it started to set in that you were actually standing at Spa. You knew the Alpine hospitality would be further down the track. As you started your walk you were amazed by how many journalists were in attendance. As someone with a large camera and a boom mic began filming you, you were thankful you’d taken your friends advice and dressed the part. A simple dress and nice sneakers kept you both presentable and comfortable. You smiled at the camera crew, spotting the netflix logo on their badges, knowing as soon as they discovered your lack of celebrity they’d cut your clips from the show.

You arrived at hospitality, showing your pass at the doors, before sitting down in a small seating area to kill time until Pierre’s media interviews. As the time began to tick closer and closer to round one interview starts, you became nervous that you still hadn’t see Y/N best friend or Pierre.

You tossed your trash and began the walk to the tent. Glancing at your phone trying to decipher what Y/N Best Friend meant by her directions, you decided to head towards the back of hospitality. As you reached the end however, you couldn’t find anything that looked like a media tent. The interviews would be packed and there was no way the space could be small.

You began looking around trying to find someone who could point you in the right direction. The first person you spotted breezed past you, not even acknowledging your question. The second was speaking in what sounded like Italian and had looked at you in confusing, not understanding you. Resigned to wander on your own you picked up your pace and began jogging around the area, peaking your head around corners to see if media was set off to the side.

As you turned sharply after another dead end, you felt yourself bump into someone. Looking up you saw a head of brown hair reaching down to collect their empty cup. Apologizing profusely you reached into your bag to pull out tissues. It wasn’t until you began trying to pat dry the wet spot on the man’s shirt that he actually said anything.

“Fuck sorry. I’m in a rush I didn’t mean to bump you. Are you okay?” He said. The voice sounded familiar but your embarrassment kept your eyes down while you tried to clean the mess.

“Yeah. It was my fault. I’m so sorry about the spill. I’m in a rush too. Could you point me in the direction of the media tent? I’m supposed to be watching the interviews.”

“That’s where I’m going. Just follow me. They won’t let you in if you’re late.”

You looked up for the first time at the Aston Martin driver, realizing why the voice was so familiar.

“Yeah that’s what I was told. Lead the way!”

You followed behind the driver for a few minutes. Flashing your pass to security to enter into the back with just minutes to spare.

He continued on, making his way up to the stage. As he took his seat he began scanning the crowd, trying to determine which media was where and looking for his PR agent. As his gaze made it over to the visitor section he saw you seated with a few of the other girlfriends.

“What kind of guy ditches his girlfriend and doesn’t even tell her how to get to the media tent” he thought. He began eyeing the drivers near him, trying to remember who was and wasn’t single, but his train of thought was cut off as the host started the round.

————————————————————————

A/N: This is my first time doing any kind of fanfic in awhile. So hopefully they improve as they go on. Parts will hopefully be posted 5-6 times a week but we’ll see how it goes. The next post is already done and will be up soon. Im not sure what the final length on this will be but I have a pretty good guideline of the story planned out. There’s not nearly enough lance content IMO so someone has to contribute. There will also be a longer spin off of the Pierre and Best Friend storyline to come

Edit: please fill out the poll when you get a chance

[bloodbruise]

God but jegulus having that old kinda love where james waits at regulus doorstep every Friday with flowers and they’re a new kind every time and they grow old together and are madly in love and they dance to the music playing in the kitchen and they dance in the rain on the street and when they see a car driving james pulls regulus away by the hand so they don’t get ran over and them eating cotton candy together and kissing on the Ferris wheel and having their very own garden in the house they buy when they save up more money and they have their little rescue pitbull and they have two kids and IM SO SINGLE 😭

and regulus presses one flower from each bouquet into his journal. james saves every single little note regulus writes for him in a shoe box in their closet; hearts and "i love you's!" and even the "pick up milk please's". james always takes the dog out first in the morning and regulus always takes him out last at night. they take the dog to the dog park every sunday. they try new recipes and mess them up and end up eating takeout on their floor. they spend rainy days in bed all day and take cooking classes and laugh into their kisses.

it's such a juxtaposition . they just love each other a world-altering amount, but they do it in a way that is so tender.

[mygayshortstories]

This is Part 2 of one of my earliest stories, “Drunk & Disorderly” and I’ve delayed posting it as I wasn’t sure how it might be received. They say that the first rule of counselling is not to get emotionally involved with your client. You certainly don’t go to bed with him! Yes, well……

David comes onto his Counsellor

(my neighbours' young son needs more than a shoulder to cry on....)

Just to remind you – David was 18 and he lived with his younger sister, a smothering mother and a rather authoritarian father in the apartment upstairs. He was about 5’ 8”, slightly built and his eyes, as I recall, were greyish-blue. He was a studious type, bright and articulate and he always had neat, gelled hair – except on the occasion when his mates dumped him, drunk, on my doorstep that night!  But that’s the earlier story. This is some months later.

In the meantime, David and I had become friends. After I gave him refuge on the night of his Birthday, he eventually wheedled out of me what had happened and after overcoming his embarrassment, it seemed to give him the courage to start confiding in me. First, if he passed through the car park when I was cleaning the car, he would hang around, just making conversation. Then he began dropping-in on me in the apartment whenever he could – often late in the evening on his way home from a night out. It was all quite platonic and ‘proper’ and I gave him coffee and we talked about all sorts of stuff. I effectively became a kind of unofficial counsellor for him.

One of the good things that seemed to have come from these chats was his increasing confidence and independence from his overbearing parents. After his Birthday, when he was out all night for the first time in his life (his parents never knew that he spent the night zonked-out out on my bed, thank goodness!) they questioned him less and less about his comings and goings and seemed to give him more freedom to be the young man that he was. And a gorgeous young man he was too!  Every time he came around, I couldn’t stop from remembering my having to pull his trousers off his drunk and sleeping body; and his lovely tight black underpants (the ones with the white trim and piping!) – and all the rest. But I digress……..

I suppose he must have known that I had grown quite fond of him but I couldn’t quite figure-out why he liked spending so much time with me until I got him onto the subject of sex one night. My suspicions proved right. He knew that I was gay right from the outset; so did his parents, because I had been fairly open about my erstwhile partner but it was only now that David admitted that he was gay too. Actually, the words he used were, “I think I might be gay.”  Yeah, well! The trouble was he wasn’t sure because, although he had never had any interest in girls, his only ‘relationship’ was with this other lad, Gavin, who sounded to me pretty messed-up and who was driving David up the wall!

David was besotted with Gavin though. Gavin was ‘Mr Wonderful’, in every respect. He had been his best friend at school and they had spent a lot of time together, in class, at each other’s homes, in each other’s rooms, etc.  They had “messed around”, as David so coyly put it, but had not “done anything serious”.  The reason for that was not because of any reluctance on David’s part but because Gavin wasn’t sure. According to David, Gavin wasn’t sure about himself; he wasn’t sure what he was and he wasn’t sure what he wanted; in fact, although I had never met Gavin, from what David told me about him, there didn’t seem to me to be a whole lot Gavin was sure about!  He wasn’t doing David any good, that’s for sure, but like a good counsellor, I didn’t say this to David. But I did encourage David to keep questioning what he was doing and whether it was getting him anywhere.

Eventually, David resolved to have it out with Gavin (so to speak) and to tell him that he had to make up his mind if he wanted to continue his relationship with David. If so, it was going to have to involve “doing sex properly”, as David so quaintly put it.  David rang me on his mobile earlier in the evening to say he was going over to see Gavin (again) and that he expected tonight to be the dénouement and “can I come round later to tell you how it went?”.

“Of course,” I said.

By 11.30, I figured they were probably “doing sex properly”, to use David’s words, so I went to bed.  The doorbell rang about 11.45 and I threw on my dressing-gown and answered the door to find David standing there, looking forlorn and with blood-shot eyes.  I suspected he’d been crying.

At this point, I should mention that we had not been particularly tactile in our friendship up to now, although he had taken to man-hugging me affectionately each time I answered my front door to him. But that was as far as it had gone. So I was a little taken by surprise when, as soon as the door was closed, he threw his arms around me and burst into tears!

“I’ve lost him!” he sobbed into my dressing-gown, “He’s gone for good now and it’s all my fault! What am I going to do?”

Now, I’m ashamed to say that I already had a hard-on in my pyjama bottoms under my dressing-gown and I was desperate that he shouldn’t find out, so I managed to pull him away from me and I steered him into the bedroom, as the rest of the apartment was in darkness and the heating was off.  I sat him on the bed, gave him a box of tissues and let him calm down enough to start telling me what had happened.  Well yes, I knew what had happened but that’s what you do, don’t you, at times like this!

After he calmed down a bit and the tears began to dry up, I made coffee and we sat on the bed for nearly an hour, with poor David recounting (for the umpteenth time) every detail of his life-story with Gavin, interrupted with bouts of tears and sobbing and more tissues until, when he had just about exhausted his supply of tears, he said,

“Can I stay with you tonight? I can’t go home now and risk waking Mum & Dad. If they see me like this, what would I say?”

What could I say? After all that had passed between us and after what happened that night on his Birthday, I couldn’t turn him out now.  I suppose, what I should have done is let him sleep on the couch but it had not escaped me that he had used the expression, “stay with you tonight” rather than “stay here tonight” and I somehow knew that he needed the physical comfort of a friend beside him and not just a cold couch to doss-down on for the night. So I slipped discreetly back under the covers of the bed and just said, “OK”, patting the top of the duvet beside me.

I pretended not to look as he shyly turned his back to me, taking his shirt and trousers off and laying them over the chair. But even from the back, the view of his slim, young body and his blemish-free skin sent tingles of excitement through me. I saw his lovely pert bum, tonight clad in a rather jazzy pair of pink and yellow briefs, which he left on.  As he climbed into bed on the other side, I found myself saying,

“Do you want to cuddle a while?” and I raised my arm as he quickly rolled across and snuggled up beside me, putting one arm around my middle and resting his head on my chest. His underpant-clad groin was pressed against my thigh and I had an erection again!

Thankfully, I was still wearing my pyjama bottoms but I was still embarrassed that he might discover my erection, so I rolled onto my side facing away from him but still holding him to me. His arm was still clutched around my middle but his face was now buried in the back of my neck and his bulge (which I was rather aware of by this time) was pressing against my backside.

This seemed fine for a while and I thought he was settling-down to doze. But then I felt his arm move and his hand start to stroke my chest, softly and gently at first, exploring and discovering my nipple. I didn’t want his hand ‘wandering’ any further, so I took hold of it with my own and gave it an affectionate squeeze. However, I think he must have taken that as a signal to go further because his hand now pulled away and began ‘wandering’ down across my stomach and my pyjamas. As he did so, I felt his hand brush against my erect organ, unconstrained beneath the loose folds of my pyjama bottoms. Needless to say, my heart was racing, surely loud enough for him to hear it!  His hand came to rest on my erect and sensitive penis and he closed his fingers around it softly.  I tried not to twitch but, you know how it is, you can’t help it; an involuntary spasm occurred in my groin that manifested itself in a twitch in my member – followed by that familiar feeling of a drop of pre-cum oozing into the soft cotton of my pyjamas.

Part of me wanted to stop him now, before it went any further, but I’m sorry to say that I was so excited by this gorgeous young man pressed tightly up against me and with his hand around my organ that I just lay there, allowing him to make the next move.  Which he did.

He deftly slid his hand under the waistband of my pyjama bottoms and began slowly masturbating me, using my own pre-cum as a lube. I’m uncut, and he was gently pulling my foreskin up and down over the moist head of my erect organ and this just encouraged more pre-cum to flow. His fingers seemed to be almost lovingly massaging the now swollen and moist head of my tool. I was so highly aroused by all this – and him especially – that I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold it.  It was just too exciting. Plus, I hadn’t had sex or masturbated in the last three days!

Before I knew it, I felt that familiar aching feeling in my balls; his continued motions up and down with my foreskin, around and around my penis-head, so firmly and yet so gently, soon elicited the inevitable result – and I just came. Just like that. As I climaxed, I gasped in relief as my jism erupted though my tool and into the folds of my pyjamas.  Realising what was happening under the bed-clothes, the motions of his hand became more sweeping; his fingers clasped and enveloped the head of my penis, as I shot 3 or 4 more loads of my sperm into his eager hand and fingers. I was in agony and ecstasy at the same time, as my spasms continued until they subsided in his hand. It was then that he kissed me on the back of my neck. Meanwhile, as I breathed heavily, recovering my composure, I hugged him closer to me, as an unspoken acknowledgement of affection for what he had just done.  I thought that would be it.

We lay there for a few minutes until quietly, he murmured my name and said,

“Will you let me do it to you? You know, put it inside you.”  He said the words with a kind of soft pleading in his voice and I could feel his own erection bulging in his underpants, pressed hard against my buttocks.

“Don’t you want to keep that for someone special?” was all I could think to say.

“But you are someone special,” he replied and I took a deep breath of resignation, as I turned on the light and rolled over to look him in the face.  His lovely blue-grey eyes were still sad and blood-shot from all his crying earlier but his face just looked like a little puppy that wanted to be loved. I couldn’t help it. I put my hand out, pulled his face to me and kissed him warmly on the lips. Such soft, luscious and delicious lips.

I thought that, possibly, I might have shocked him; but no. He simply copied my move and put his hand behind my head, as we both melted into each other in such a loving kiss that, to me, tasted like sweet honey!  My mind raced as I thought of all the rules I had just broken and I realised what thin ice I was on. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if he ended-up being hurt even more by what I had just done but somehow I must have known that he was old enough and sensible enough and that it was all going to be alright.

As he took his underpants off, I also slipped my damp bottoms off.  Then I reached over to the cabinet and got a condom from the drawer. I gave it to him and said,

“I suppose you know what to do with this?”

He looked at me with a sort of sheepish grin that spoke of naughtiness and guilt. He took it from me and began opening it, as I rolled onto my front with a pillow under me. I reached out and passed him the lube, as I felt him climb over, astride and behind me.

I guess it was because it was his first time doing this that he was a bit frantic at first and I had to calm him down.

“Take it slowly - gently. I’m not going anywhere!”  I assured him, as he nervously prodded around for his entry. I reached behind myself with one hand and took hold of his rock-hard erection, now clad in its cover, all slippery with lube, and I guided it to its destination. He pushed into me – a bit too hard and a bit too far really – and I gasped as his tool crashed my outer and inner sphincters in one go.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he said, nervously, “Did I do it wrong?”

“No. No, it’s alright,” I reassured him, “Just hold there a while and let me relax.”  

Good as gold, he waited for me to signal that he could carry on.

Once he began thrusting in and out of me, it didn’t take him long before his motion became more urgent, more frantic, as I felt his solid manhood pushing up, deeply into my insides. I had come already less than half-an-hour ago and yet the excitement of feeling him slapping his groin against my buttocks, his arms astride my body and his organ inside me was getting me aroused again. He didn’t realise it but his hard tool was also rubbing back and forth across my prostate and it was driving me towards another orgasm. But something didn’t feel quite right. Then, during one of his frantic lunges I felt him slip out of me.

“Oh shit,” he uttered at first, then “Oh no! It’s slipped off!  Oh fuck, sorry!”

Oddly enough, I’d never heard him swear before; he was always such a well-spoken young man with me but the frustration had clearly got the better of him. You have to make a snap decision at times like this and on this occasion, I decided the risk factors to both of us were probably minimal. So I said,

“Never mind - don’t worry about it – just carry on without it. It’ll be ok.” And I reached around and grabbed the soggy article, throwing it on the floor beside the bed. Fortunately, he was still hard (not to say slippery!) and I guided his desperate organ back to its target.  He didn’t waste any time either. Perhaps dispensing with the condom made him feel it was even more personal, more intimate this way because within a minute or two, his thrusting became more desperate and forceful again. He started moaning and whimpering, as he made lunge after lunge, hard into me and I felt that tell-tale ache in my groin, as an unwilling second orgasm oozed its juices from my cock into the pillow beneath me. Just at that moment, pushing hard into me, he paused and I felt his organ throbbing and pulsing inside of me as all the pent-up emotions and frustrations of his last year now came surging out of him and into me. Into my body.  He gasped loudly, almost shouting out his relief and then collapsed against my back with his arms clasped tightly around my chest, his face buried in the nape of my neck.  He was crying again, sobbing his heart out, and I realised at that moment that at the height of his climax, he had been imagining that he was at last fulfilling his wish to make love to his beloved Gavin.

We lay there, as his softening cock gently slipped out of me and I let him sob against my neck for a moment or two, his tears and dribble running down the side of my neck and cheek. Then I moved around and rolled over, with him face down beside me, sobbing.

“I’m sorry; I’m so sorry,” he sobbed into the pillow. I gently raised his head from the pillow and looked into his beautiful blue-grey, bloodshot eyes as I gently stroked his hair and comforted him.

“It’s alright, David. Come here,” I said and I drew him to me, as he put his arm across me and placed his face back against my chest.  He knew that I knew – and that I understood.  We both drifted-off to sleep in each other’s arms.

I need not have worried about him. It was me that probably got hurt because we never made love again, although we did become even firmer, deeper friends than before.  He still called around for late night chats but we never talked about that night and soon our conversations would include tales of his latest conquests and then his new “boyfriend”, who he of course brought round to me to approve!  It’s sad really, isn’t it - but in a nice kind of way!

If you liked that story, please let me know - even post a comment under “ask me a question”. Or perhaps you’d just like to read another story?

Here’s an index of my other sordid tales, many of them taken from my own true-life sexual adventures: Erotic Gay Stories Index

[lucie-newman]

Precipitous.

It's a fitting word. It's the cliffs at Black Beach, California where the rocks drop twenty jagged feet into clear blue water. It's her bare wet feet and the balance and the moment she looked over the edge. It's the breath she took before jumping, stretching out all her limbs like a starfish, and dropping. Freefall. Unstoppable.

It's labor.

This isn't written about in advice columns, or played out on screen. Labor doesn't announce itself at the doorstep. The back pain she's struggled with all this last trimester hides a multitude of symptoms; is the symptom. And her water doesn't break right away, her contractions don't build slowly. There are no Braxton Hicks. She's three weeks early, she's alone when it starts, and, as her father would say:

"Give it what you got."

She's out by the old chapel Cage rebuilt taking pictures when it happens. When the back pain she's been rubbing at with increasing annoyance twists suddenly inward and something unspools inside of her and -

Oh!

Oh, fuck!

It's a contraction. It's pain squeezing her tighter and tighter until the camera drops from her hands. And when it loosens, when she can breath again, she thinks: that's fine. Just one. One strong contraction. Nothing to -

And then the second piggybacks the first.

Reception is a little spotty this far off the road. There's a voice in her head that sounds like her father, like her older brothers, like a drop of reason in a bucket of insanity. Not advised. But then, she didn't think she'd go early. When in all her life has she ever even been punctual? It's one day late on car insurance with an apology and a promise. It's two hours late to a party with a smile and a story.

But then, this isn't her entrance.

Panic makes a nest in her chest for a moment, scratches at her heart. She rests back against the bark of a willow tree and lets it play out. There's no use fighting it. The baby's awake, kicking at a rib urgently when a third contraction ripples through her. "Yeah, yeah," she tells them, breathless. She sweeps a hand from breastbone to hip. "I'm afraid too."

Of what's happening, yes. Of motherhood, surely. But of all the rest too. Age and boredom and bills and vulnerability. It's the pulse under her skin that she's been ignoring. The old unspoken fear, rare as it could be, that what happened to her mother could happen to her.

But honestly, fuck that.

She pushes herself from the tree and walks best as she can down the beaten path toward her car. She's left her backpack, her water bottle, and her camera behind clutching only at the phone in her hand and waiting for those signal bars. It's a journey made in broken acts. Halted by the contractions that take hold and squeeze. And damn if those classes don't mean shit. She can breathe. She does breathe. But none of that helps when she's being funneled downward. So she curses. Lot's of fucks and shits and then some more inventive things that would make her grams blush. She kicks at a fallen log, half bent over when one particularly strong one takes her under, and that helps too.

She thinks of birth playlists and the classical music some women luxuriate in - she thinks of epidurals and the sweetness of a warm bath right now. She thinks for one horrible moment that she's not going to make it out of the woods. She trips, cuts her knee open on the bits and brambles of the forest floor, and screams. Frustrated. Primal. Her throat aching from it. If there are hikers up this early, before the forecast showers they'd hear her. But there's no answer except the birds - scared mute for a moment - and then swooping back in to fill the silence. There's no choice though. She pulls herself up and keeps walking.

The hike out to the chapel took thirty minutes, the return trip takes just over an hour. She's coming out to the gravel parking lot when those bars flicker back and she could cry with relief. She's in no state to drive so she dials 911 as she drops onto a large rock near her car. The operator is a sweet, older woman that stays on the line with her for the twenty minutes it takes to get an ambulance out there.

"You got a name, Lucie?" she asks, talking her through a contraction.

"Several." She bites out. "Thinking I got to-" she grunts and the woman waits it out with her, "-see them you know? Got to see if they look like a Piper or a Ziggy."

"It's a good day this one. Great birthday."

"Yeah?"

"National Chocolate and Peanut Butter Day."

It makes her laugh, makes her unclench her fist just a touch. "You look that up?"

"I did. You want to know who they'll be sharing it with?" She does and the woman says "Woody Harrelson."

"Sweet."

"And Kathryn Hahn."

Lou huffs, tips her head back into the sun. "Legend."

The baby twists, moving fast beneath her hand. She almost can read their agitation. Wishes she could tell them it's going to be alright but her water breaks before the ambulance arrives and she starts to hyperventilate.

"It's okay Lucie. They'll be there any minute. Can you hear the sirens?" She does. "Your going to be just fine, mama."

Things move fast after that. She's loaded into the back of the ambulance and strapped to monitoring equipment. She watches the squiggles of her baby's heartbeat to distract from the pain, from the contractions that start piling up one on top of the other. This was supposed to be a long process. Hours upon hours, those were the words. But it's not. She asks is something is wrong, her voice thin with worry. Someone holds her hand. Someone else asks if they should call her partner. She laughs, tells them no, then thinks of her siblings. She pulls up the group chat and shakily types out two words.

Hospital. Now.

It's not eloquent. It's not joking. And she's speeding down the country road she learned to drive on when the urge to push hits. She thinks she should have called Ari. She thinks he should be here. She doesn't want to be alone for this. But then, she isn't really. She hasn't been alone for near on nine months.

In the end, none of her siblings will make it there on time. In the end, she doesn't even make it there on time.

Her son is born pink, angry, and loud two minutes before arriving at the hospital.

[blorbologist]

Caaaan I be cheeky and go Trick Trick Treat (to the beat of Duck Duck Goose) and As Many De Rolos As You Feel Like Including?

Not sure if I quite pulled that off, but that'll be your call to make ;3

--

“Ow! Fuck! What the hell - stop fucking - ow - Ollie!!”

“Language,” Vesper chides, poking at Whitney’s ankles with her cane without breaking her stride. “And stop fucking pulling her hair, Oliver.”

“You swore too! I’m gonna tell mum!” Littlest Cassandra - a knight this year - giggles, tidying Whitney’s fairy pigtails.

Oliver sulks, jack-o-lantern basket swinging as he stomps a few paces ahead. There’s chatter as the three slightly more well behaved kids chatter, discussing classmates’ costumes and candy hauls and optimal routes, before Oliver eventually can’t resist and slows to join them.

Julius is perfectly content to let his sister handle the siblings. He and Vesper are definitely too old for trick-or-treating, but once the littles are tuckered out, they can drop them on the doorstep and take off to the nearest Halloween rager. Not like he hasn’t been pregaming it - his jack-o-lantern has a smile of brown glass and slooshes like it’s about to vomit. 

Oh, he could be there now - already - swimming in a sea of sexy nurses and sexy lady CEOs and sexy sexy sexy, while Vesper and her friends binged old Halloween classics. If not for his wonderful middle brother.

Percival ‘too old for Halloween’ de Rolo got to skip out on this delight of being an older sibling by citing a project due tomorrow in his morning class. For the record, the nerd never leaves anything to the last minute. It was deliberate, Julius would swear on it.

Vesper thwacks his ankle. Julius glances up - it didn’t hurt thanks to the fireman boots - to see her frowning. 

“Where are we?”

A quick glance at the streetsigns answers him - though understandable Vesper can’t read them with her black shades. It’s getting awfully dark, and more lamps are unlit than not for the Halloween atmosphere. “Academy Lane? The Soltryce is at the one end. Dad has a lot of friends that live here.”

It’s definitely the sort of neighborhood Julius is familiar with - gated snaking driveways, walls mimicking castle architecture, the self-importance of the nouveau-riche. 

Nothing can beat an actual fucking castle, though.

Vesper frowns, adjusts her tie. “Mhm. I don’t see many pumpkins out. We should turn back.”

“One more and we’ll get to the car,” Julius promises. Cass is flagging anyways, not helped by all that aluminum platemail. She’ll be begging for bedtime soon. 

But there is a pumpkin on this porch - two, actually, a horribly ugly pair - so Julius ducks past the toothy open gate and keeps an eye on the hooligans. At least they’re having fun.

Never would he admit it, but Vesper has a bit of a point. It’s creepy - the tamed and trimmed trees look like manicured hands, backlit by faint light from the road and sick pale gold from the mansion. Despite how well-kept the place is, it’s crawling with vines. Trying to pick a late-season flower from one is a mistake - Vesper turns when he yelps.

“Just a thorn,” says Julius. When she’s not looking he presses his thumb to his lips, to swipe off the blood.

He and Vesper pause two-thirds the way to the house just as Cass reaches the front steps, Ludwig hushing the twins so she can catch up and be ready to yell with them. Whitney insists on ringing the bell - echoed down the drive, the sound makes Julius shiver. It’s getting cold.

The door swings open, delighted to see them, and the children just as delighted.

“Trick or treat!” hollers the host of little monsters. Everything looks less scary by the light: Cass is a little knight, and the imposing owners of the home are familiar faces with candy at hand.

“Oh, Lady Briarwood!” Julius calls, relieved. “What a surprise!” 

Her smile glows just as the jack-o-lantern’s does. “What a pleasant surprise indeed.”

🎃Trick or Treat! Send me an ask and you'll get a trick (angst) or treat (fluff) ficlet in return! 🎃

[h0llywoodsbleeding]

chapter one

Mair never thought she’d move to Utah. Utah wasn’t home. Chicago was. Madison was, too, in a way. But Utah? That had never been in the plan.

But moving in with Austin—that had always been part of the plan.

They had talked about it for years, dreaming up what their life together would look like once the distance was finally behind them. It had always been when, not if. When she graduated, she’d pack up her life in Wisconsin and move in with him. No more counting down days until the next visit, no more FaceTime calls that stretched into the early hours of the morning because neither of them wanted to hang up. It was supposed to be their fresh start.

Long distance had never been easy, but they had made it work.

She had been his constant through everything—every high, every low. Even when he was a world away, chasing his dream in LA, and she was drowning in schoolwork in Madison, she had been there for him. When his first big single dropped, she was the first person he called. When he questioned if he was good enough, if the industry was going to chew him up and spit him out, she was the one who reminded him who he was.

She had been there before the fame, before the sold-out shows and screaming fans, before the world saw him as a superstar. To her, he had always just been Austin. The same boy who had made her laugh until she couldn’t breathe, who had scribbled lyrics in the margins of his school notebooks, who had kissed her in the backseat of his car when they were 17 and made her feel like the only girl in the universe.

She had never doubted that they would make it.

Then the world shut down, and everything changed.

The University of Wisconsin sent out the email in early March—campus closed, classes moving online, graduation ceremonies canceled. She hadn’t even packed up her apartment yet when Austin called her.

“Just come here,” he said. “You don’t have to wait until you graduate. You’re not gonna sit alone in Madison doing Zoom classes when you could be here with me.”

She huffed, kicking her feet up on the couch. “Well, I wasn’t planning on being alone. I was gonna go back home to my parents.”

He scoffed. “Why wouldn’t you just come here?”

She smirked, twirling a loose thread on her sweatshirt. “I don’t know. Maybe you’ll just have to come home too and drag me out to Utah.”

Austin let out an exaggerated groan. “Mair. Don’t make me get on a flight.”

She laughed, but the thought of him showing up at her doorstep to haul her across the country was so him that she could picture it perfectly. “I dunno. Could be fun. You, standing outside my house, begging me to come with you like some grand romantic gesture.”

“You want me to hold a boombox over my head, too?”

“Obviously. Bare minimum effort, Austin.”

He snorted. “You’re impossible. Just come here.”

She didn’t. Not right away, at least.

Instead, she went back to Chicago. It was the longest stretch of time she had spent at home since she left for college, and to her surprise, it was exactly what she needed. For a few months, everything felt easy again. Austin came home too, and suddenly, it was like they were teenagers again—him over all the time, her parents yelling at them to keep the door open, late-night drives blasting old playlists from high school. They had spent so many years apart, always looking ahead to the next visit, the next chance to be together, that being in the same place with nowhere to go felt like a gift.

It was normal, something they hadn’t had in years.

They spent lazy mornings in her parents’ kitchen, Austin stealing bites of her breakfast until she smacked his hand away. Afternoons were filled with movies on the couch, tangled up in each other, no pressure, no schedules. At night, they snuck out to sit on the roof of his car, passing a bottle of whatever they could find in her dad’s liquor cabinet, talking about everything and nothing.

For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like she was in a long-distance relationship.

For years, Mair had assumed she’d be moving to LA after she graduated. That had always been the unspoken plan. He was there, his career was there, and after years of long-distance, it only made sense.

But last year, Austin told her he didn’t want to stay in LA. He wanted space. Quiet. A place to breathe. He wanted to move to Utah.

And she had said okay.

It wasn’t a hard decision—not really. As much as she had pictured LA, she had never been tied to it. She had spent weekends and breaks in Utah over the past year, enough to know the house, the mountains, the way Austin seemed lighter there. But visiting was different from living there. And now, it wasn’t just some place she spent a few days at a time. It was going to be home.

When airports reopened, they flew to Utah together.

It was the first time she had been on a plane in months, and the whole experience felt surreal. The world was still settling into its new normal, masks and distance and the lingering weight of uncertainty. But for Mair, everything felt different for another reason entirely.

She wasn’t going back to school. She wasn’t visiting Austin for a weekend. She was leaving one life behind and stepping into another.

When they landed, Austin laced his fingers through hers as they made their way through the near-empty terminal. “You good?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

The drive up to the house was quiet. The mountains stretched out around them, the sun low in the sky, painting everything in gold. Austin’s hand rested on her thigh as he hummed along to the music, completely at ease.

When they finally pulled up, Mair exhaled slowly, taking in the house that she had been in and out of for the past year. It was beautiful—warm wood and stone, tucked away in the hills, with a ridiculous view that Austin never stopped talking about. She had slept here before, had woken up to the morning sun spilling through the massive windows, but it had always been temporary.

Now, it was hers too.

Austin cut the engine and turned to her. “Welcome home, baby.”

Her stomach flipped, but she smiled. “Home, huh?”

He reached over, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. Home.”

The first few weeks felt like a honeymoon phase. Waking up to him every morning, no more calls or flights or countdowns—it was everything they had been waiting for. They spent lazy mornings tangled in bed, made breakfast together, spent entire days in the studio where she stretched out on the couch while he worked. At night, they sat out on the porch, watching the stars, talking about nothing and everything.

But then the industry started moving again. Touring schedules started forming. Calls from his team increased. And she had to get comfortable being alone more and more.

Mair knew things would change once Austin started working again. She didn’t blame him for it. Music was his passion, and as much as she had loved their quiet, self-contained world in lockdown, she knew it couldn’t last forever. The moment studios reopened, he had thrown himself back into work—writing, recording, flying people out for sessions. It wasn’t long before he started talking about touring again.

She understood. Of course, she did. She had always known this was his life, had supported him through every late-night call, every canceled plan, every month spent apart. But it was different now. Before, she had always had her own life too—school, friends, things that grounded her. Now, in Utah, she had nothing but time.

At first, she tried to make the most of it. She explored, went on walks, and found a coffee shop in town that made a decent cappuccino. She read books and did all the little house projects Austin had talked about but never got around to. She reorganized the kitchen, set up the guest rooms, and even helped him go through stacks of old notebooks in the studio.

But eventually, the novelty of playing house wore off.

Utah was beautiful, but it wasn’t hers yet.

The people were polite but distant, and while she had met a few of Austin’s friends, they were his friends. He had roots here now—she didn’t. And the days were long when he was in the studio or on calls, and she was left alone in that big, beautiful house with nothing to do.

For the first time in her life, she felt untethered.

She missed routine and having a purpose. She had a degree in political science and law & policy and she needed to put it in use.

The search wasn’t easy. Most companies were still figuring out their footing during COVID, and there weren’t a lot of opportunities in the immediate area. The idea of working remotely didn’t appeal to her—she needed people, a reason to get out of the house.

It took weeks, but eventually, she found an HR job in Salt Lake City and it was perfect. She wanted this to work, wanted Utah to feel like home, and this was the first step.

The days felt fuller now. She woke up early, had coffee on the drive into the city, spent the day tackling payroll issues, helping new hires, and navigating office politics.

She was building something for herself. And just when she finally felt like she belonged there, everything came crashing down.