#I NEVER LEAVE PENNSYLVANIA

[wyatt-the-undescript-large-bug]

[freebooter4ever]

She wimped out on not saying goodbye. She left a note for fucks sake! Thats not how you dont say goodbye.

[gracexthoughts]

Seven

jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!aunt!oc

content/warnings; canon typical incest, slight talk of death/violence, Alicent being rude, angst and fluff

summary; Jacaerys and Aelyria were childhood bestfriends, inseparable and mischievous, until the princess Rhaenyra moved her family to Dragonstone, leaving her youngest half sister without her closest companion. Nearly a decade later, King Viserys has decided the feud within his family too far gone and declared the betrothal of Prince Jacaerys to his youngest daughter to help heal the rift. 

a/n; inspired by seven by taylor swift and jace’s talk with baela about fathers. I know this pairing has been done a lot but I really love it and hope I did it justice. about 4k words. 

Please picture me In the trees I hit my peak at seven feet In the swing Over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things?

“Aely!” The young prince Jacaerys called after the princess as she sprinted off into the woods. “Slow down!” Even though he was taller, she was quick and had run off before he could even get ready. Her laugh rings out over the grass as she darts into the woods, Jacaerys on her heels. 

The entirety of the royal family, accompanied by many lords and ladies, had traveled to the Kingswood for a royal hunt in celebration of the Prince Jacaerys' 10th name day. As he is the future heir to the Iron Throne, the crown had spared no expense for the celebration. Jacaerys himself, however, was not at present interested in whatever creature was being tracked down in his name, his sights set on adventure with the young Princess Aelyria, the King and Queen’s youngest child. Having been born mere months apart, they had grown to be quite close; they trained with their dragons together in the Dragonpit, had discovered and begun exploring the passageways in the Red Keep, and Aelyria had taken to sneaking into the princes’ training sessions in her own desire to learn to fight along with her favorite nephew. And when she would inevitably get dragged away by her mother or the septa, Jace would sneak into her chambers later that evening with two training blades in hand to teach her what he had learned that day. 

As Jacaerys breaks through the treeline, he runs straight into Aelyria, who had stopped suddenly in the woods, sending the pair tumbling forward in a heap of limbs. “Jace!” the princess cried, a laugh in her voice as they disentangled themselves and their cloaks. 

“You’re the one who stopped!” Jace laughs in his defense. “Why did you? I thought we were racing to the creek,” he wonders, standing and extending his hand down to help up the princess, a princely boy even at his young age. 

“I thought I saw something but we must have scared it off now,” she says, taking his hand and standing, not bothering to brush the dirt off her skirts. The princess’ lilac eyes flicker with mischief as she looks around the woods surrounding them, her eyes settling on a nearby tree with low branches fit for climbing. “C’mon!” 

Before Jacaerys can respond, the princess is pulling herself up to the lowest branch, swinging her legs over with ease, not a care in the world for the preservation of her skirts. She was always quite boyish, never heading her mother’s lessons of ladylike manners and behaviors. The young prince has never minded though, enjoying her wildness and sense of adventure. A day with her was never boring. 

Soon the young royals were high in the treeline, standing on either side of the large trunk balanced on branches as they took in the view around them. Their breaths were labored from the climb, their cheeks flushed and smiles wide. The ruckus of the hunt was left far behind and below them, not able to reach them in the trees. “I wish we could stay here forever,” the princess sighs, sitting down on her branch, her legs swinging. 

“Why?” the prince asks, watching her curiously. 

“It’s quiet,” she says softly, looking up at the still standing prince. “And beautiful and here my mother can’t yell at me to be more ladylike.” She rolls her eyes and mimics her mother’s intonation. Jacaerys laughs, climbing over and sitting next to the princess on her branch. 

“When we are older, I’ll be King and I’ll command your mother to leave you be.” 

“Will you let me be a knight?” the princess asks, excitement in her voice. 

“If you’d like!” Jacaerys laughs. “You could be my sworn protector.” 

“I’d be a brilliant knight.” the princess declares, straightening her back and puffing out her chest and the pair fall into giggles. 

“Well I promise then, once I’m King I’ll make sure your mother can never tell you to be ladylike again!” Jacaerys declares, holding out his pinky to the girl, who smiles and links hers with his, thankful for him. 

Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you

Jacaerys makes his way through the dark halls of Dragonstone, his footsteps echoing through the hall as he makes his way to the Great Hall. Nearing his destination, the voices of his mother and stepfather leak out through the ajar door. He pauses for a moment, not wishing to walk in on an intimate moment. 

“He says he wishes for it in the hope it will heal the rift between our families,” his mother says, her voice smooth and calm. 

“So he may fall prey to their vicious children? How do we know this isn’t a Hightower scheme?” Daemon challenges with clear disdain in his voice. 

“I cannot believe this idea came from Alicent nor Otto,” the princess responds. 

“Does not mean she won’t take advantage of it. She may be instructing Aelyn on how to best manipulate him at this moment.” 

“Her name is Aelyria, Daemon,” Rhaenyra corrects, peaking Jacareys’ interest further. His mother’s youngest half-sister was not a common topic of conversation in their home, even if she far preferred her half-sisters to her half- brothers. “They were friends when they were children; Jace doted on her even. It may prove to be a good match.” 

Daemon opens his mouth to respond but stops when he sees Jacaerys entering the room with a questioning look on his face. 

“Jace,” his mother says happily, smiling at him and motioning for him to come in. He obliges, his long stride carrying him through the room quickly to stand at the Painted Table with his mother and stepfather. “Apt timing. We just received word from your grandsire the King, he has suggested a match for you.” 

“A match? Who?” the young prince inquires, his gaze darting between Rhaenyra and Daemon, acting as if he had not been eavesdropping. 

“The Princess Aelyria. You are the same age, both unwed, and the King remembers how close you were as children,” his mother states, setting down the scroll of parchment in her hand on the table. “He thinks you would make a fine pair, and she a good Queen to have by your side.” Daemon scoffs slightly to her left, walking away to lean against the mantle above the hearth. Jacaerys stays silent for a moment. Marriage was something he knew would be coming but in truth, he hadn’t given it much thought. The princess he remembered was a small, spirited little girl with a quick wit and even quicker temper. She often snuck out of her own lessons to join the princes in their trainings, and trained in the Dragonpit alongside them for many years. He’d certainly held a boyhood crush on her then but Jacaeyrs struggles to imagine who she has grown into.

“What say you, Mother?” he asks finally, looking up from the Painted Table to meet her eyes. 

“I quite agree with my father,” she says after a moment. “It would do well to have our line of succession shored up, and the princess would make a fine match. While she has a reputation for being a little wild, I also hear that she has a good heart and a kind reputation among the smallfolk that would strengthen your reign when the time comes,” She says, moving closer to her son, “But it is your opinion that matters most in this.” 

“And of the Hightowers?” Daemon interjects from his place at the hearth, his eyes fixed on the flames. 

“Even they are not above the will of the King,” Rhaenyra responds, “We would have to go to King’s Landing for the wedding, but we needn’t stay.” Jacaerys holds his mother’s gaze for a long moment, mulling the idea of marriage, to someone he hardly knows any longer, over in his mind. “So?” 

“Yes, I accept,” he says with a nod, attempting to look more sure of himself than he feels. His mother smiles, raising his confidence slightly, and nods. 

“Then I shall write to my father,” she says, and kisses Jacaerys’ forehead before retrieving the scroll from the table and retreating from the room. Jacaerys lingers for a moment, watching Daemon whose eyes are trained on his wife’s retreating figure.

“The Hightowers are scheming and dangerous. You should watch this girl carefully,” he says to the young prince finally. 

“She’s not a Hightower, she’s a Targaryen,” Jacaerys responds quickly, already feeling protective over his betrothed. 

“Same thing for that lot,” Daemon responds darkly before grabbing his sword from the table and following after the princess. 

Your braids like a pattern Love you to the moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

The Prince grunts slightly as his feet hit the solid ground after lowering himself from Vermax’s back, stiff from the long ride. He and his mother have come to King’s Landing for the first time in many years so he and the princess can be reacquainted before their wedding in a moon. The rest of their family will come for the wedding but Rhaenyra wanted to avoid any repeat of the last time they were all together. 

Jacaerys would never reveal this secret but he was quite nervous. He could barely remember the face of the princess, let alone what she could look like or what her personality was now. Was she still as wild and rebellious and boyish as she was or has she relented to her mother’s will and become a lady? Jacaerys watches quietly as his mother speaks with the guards, requesting a carriage be brought to take them back to the castle, and as the Dragonkeepers escort Vermax and Syrax into the Dragonpit. Jacaerys wonders if Vermax remembers his first home still, the place they first bonded. He is quickly torn from his thoughts as a shadow passes over them and looking up, he sees a beautiful white and golden dragon making its descent to the ground.

The dragon and her rider’s backs are facing the prince once they land but the woman in front of him was undoubtedly the princess, for he’d recognize her dragon, Starfyre, anywhere. He watches as the princess pats her dragon on the neck, before leaping from the saddle and landing easily on the ground. She faces away from him still, speaking to the Dragonkeeper in High Valyrian but the prince finds himself taking in every detail he can. Her silver gold hair is intricately braided to hang down to the small of her back, her legs are long and wrapped in trousers made for riding, and a black riding coat accentuates her curves and hangs to her knees, her voice is melodic and sure in her High Valyrian. She nods to the Dragonkeeper and turns, pulling her riding gloves off with her teeth before her lilac eyes find Jacaerys and Rhaenyra. 

“Jace?” she calls, stepping away from her dragon and closer to him. She has the wide doe eyes of her mother still but everything else of her is Targaryen through and through, sharp features and high cheekbones, and her smile more beautiful than Jacaerys remembers it. 

“Aely,” he responds with a smile, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword, unsure of where else to put them. 

“I didn’t think you were arriving until later this evening,” the princess says, her eyes scanning the prince. Like Jacaerys, she has spent much time wondering how the boy she knew has changed into the man she’s been betrothed to and she is stunned at what she finds. His face is angular and handsome framed by long dark curls. He is tall and lean while still appearing strong, his warm brown eyes the exact same as she recalls. 

“We got an earlier start than expected,” Rhaenyra steps forward, “How are you, sister?” 

“I am well, and you?” Aelyria nods. Rhaenyra has always been her favorite sibling, even if they weren’t close. She looked up to the women as a child, and her mother’s distaste towards the princess made Aelyria feel a certain kinship with her half sister. 

“We are well. Are you headed back to the Keep?” 

“I am, would you ride back with me?” she offers, motioning to the carriage pulling up to the gates of the Dragonpit. 

“That is kind, thank you,” Rhaenyra says with a smile, and a wink for her son, and moves toward the carriage but Aelyria hangs back, her eyes trailing over her betrothed again. 

“You are much changed since I last saw you,” the prince says, stepping forward. 

“I can say the same for you, nephew,” she says, failing to keep her mischievous smile from her face. Jace had always hated when she called him that as children, but he can’t find the annoyance in him at the moment, too entranced by the sound of her voice. Instead he laughs and shakes his head, holding his arm out to escort the princess to the carriage so they can make their way back to the Red Keep. 

And I've been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted Your dad is always mad and that must be why And I think you should come live with Me and we can be pirates Then you won't have to cry Or hide in the closet And just like a folk song Our love will be passed on

Jacareys wanders through the halls of the Red Keep, familiarity and strangeness battling in his mind. The castle has changed much in the near decade of his absence and yet, he could see it as it was in his youth: the halls the same he and his brother ran through, the Dragonpit the same as it was the first day he rode Vermax, the secret passages the same as when he and Aelyria discovered them as children. Jacareys found himself mindlessly making his way to the training yard, allured by the sound of steel against steel. 

Jacareys steps into the training yard to find Princess Aelyria and Prince Aemond sparing in the center. He remembers well how she would watch the princes in training, even picking up a sword and practicing herself before being run off by Ser Cristen or her mother or the septa. She’s grown much in the years since he last saw her, her skills far outpacing that of which he had imagined. Jacareys watches as she circles Aemond, striking, blocking and dodging with surprising speed and accuracy. Jacareys finds his gaze drawn to her legs, unhidden by skirts as she stands in trousers, the riding coat she favors tossed over a training dummy. 

Princess Aelyria’s laughter echoes off the walls of the yard as she stands up from her dodge of her brother’s blunted sword, having ducked and rolled under the blade to recover behind him. Aemond turns around in frustration, swinging again with his blade as Aelyria reaches up to block his attack before stepping under his reach and elbowing the prince in the side. With her small stature and lesser strength, the princess had learned that speed and agility were her friends in bouts and quickly excelled in her capabilities. Aemond grunts from the blow to his side, his steps staggering slightly as his sister circles him, waiting for her to recover. 

“Ready to yield, brother?” she taunts, her lips turned up in a smirk. 

“You’re the one running,” he bemoans, righting himself and raising his sword, readying to strike again but lowers his blade, his eyes fixed over Aelyria’s shoulder with a sly smile. “Come to train, nephew?” The princess turns, her eyes finding Jacaerys pushing off the wall, his brown eyes trained on the prince. 

“To speak with my betrothed,” he answers, his gaze shifting to Aelyria and softening for her. Aemond eyes narrow, upset at the match as much as his mother, leveling a menacing glare at his nephew before taking his leave without another word. “He doesn’t like me,” Jacaerys states, as the door to the yard slams, and turns back to Aelyria who chuckles. 

“Aemond likes no one,” she responds, leaning on the training blade, "He merely tolerates me as he has no one else to spar with save Cole."

“It may be,” the prince says, suddenly feeling uneasy under her gaze. “When did the Queen surrender to your training?” 

“Soon after your leave, if I remember correctly. They grew weary of disciplining me with no effect,” the princess smirks. 

“As you always hoped,” they chuckle, a hint of their old familiarity returning. The prince glances at the table of training weapons. “Care for another round?” 

“If you can keep up,” she smirks, tossing him the blade Aemond had left in his wake. Aelyria makes the first move, but Jacaerys quickly counters. He holds back at first, unsure of fighting with a woman, but he quickly learns that Aelyria is quite capable and a formidable opponent and he begins to let loose. They are well matched, meeting blow for blow until both of them are sweaty and panting. 

“You fight well,” the prince compliments, his chest rising and falling quickly and a curl sticking to his damp forehead. 

“Thank you, you do as well. Much better than when you would teach me in my chambers,” Aelyria laughs, wiping at her hairline where baby hairs stick to her skin. 

“You make it sound quite scandalous,” Jacaerys jests, setting aside the training blades. 

“It was to us then,” the princess points out, remembering how careful they were to not get caught. 

“True enough,” he laughs, his eyes lost in hers, the soft lilac of her irises beautiful and intriguing to him as ever. “You know, I’ve missed you, in truth. I never had as much fun alone as with you here,” the prince says softly, stepping forward and brushing a stray hair from the princess’ brow. The air becomes thick between them, their eyes locked together. 

“I missed you too, my brothers are poor company compared to you-” 

“Aelyria!” The voice of the Queen rings out over the courtyard, startling the Jacaerys and Aelryia who back away from each other quickly. The queen stalks over to her daughter, grabbing her arm roughly. Aelyria’s face sours and she yanks her arm from her mother’s grip, leveling her with a hard stare. “You have a dress fitting you are currently missing and you look a mess. I thought you could put away this foolishness for one hour. You would think this is my wedding for as much as you seem to care about it!” 

“Mother, I-”  

“I apologize, your Grace. The princess had finished near an hour ago but I stepped in. I don’t have many sparring partners save my brothers on Dragonstone. The fault is mine,” Jacaerys steps in, unable to ignore the anger bubbling in his stomach at the queen’s treatment of her daughter. 

“Price Jacaerys, it is good to see you again. I am afraid I cannot stay, but I hope you are settling back in well,” Alicent says to the prince, her face barely masking her distaste of him, before she turns back to her daughter. “Come, Aelyria.” Jacaerys watches as the princess takes a deep breath and, flashing him an apologetic smile, turns to follow her mother back into the castle. 

Please picture me In the weeds Before I learned civility I used to scream ferociously Any time I wanted

“Come in,” Aelyria calls softly at the knock on her door. Jacaerys steps into her chambers at her permission and smiles as he closes the door. “Hi.” 

 “Hi,” the prince says softly, moving to sit next to Aelyria at the table in the center of her room. “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I did not mean to keep you and I regret that I did.” 

“I do not. I could have been bathed and early and perfectly excited and she still would have found something wrong. The fault is not yours,” the princess assures, placing a hand over his and squeezing gently. Before she can pull her hand back, Jacaerys clasps his hand to hers, relishing the feeling.  

“I’m sure it is hard for girls and their mothers as it is with boys and fathers,” the prince says sympathetically. 

“Is it hard, with you and your stepfather?” The princess asks, her eyes on their hands. 

“Sometimes, it was strange at first but he’s been my father almost as long as my actual father was,” Jacaerys shrugs. 

“You know, I don’t think I ever got to tell you how sorry I was for you when your father passed,” Aelyria says softly.

“Oh,” the prince says, surprised by her and shakes his head. “Seems so long ago now but I was glad he passed on Driftmark, I know he missed it while away.” 

“That’s not who I meant,” the princess says, and Jacaerys, on instinct stiffens at the realization she means Ser Hardin Strong, and not Leanor Velaryon from whom Jace received his name. “I don’t hold it against you like my mother and brothers do. Seems a silly thing for them to care so much about,” Aelryia adds quickly, sensing his unease. 

“Really?” Jacaerys eyes find hers, shock shining in the dark brown of them. 

“You wouldn’t be you if you had another father and I’ve always quite liked you as you are,” the princess smiles, her thumb grazing against the back of Jacaerys’ hand as a slight blush colors his cheeks. “What was he like?” She asks after a moment. 

“He was gentle, and fierce… They called him Breakbones,” Jacaerys smiles, Aelyria along with him, but there’s a sadness in his eyes still. “He loved us, I think.” 

“Of course he did. Otherwise he would not have defended you so fiercely against Cole.” 

“You remember that?” 

“I do,” Aelyria nods, leaning back in her chair. “It was the first time I saw a true fight. I remember thinking that I had to learn how to fight like that. It felt so necessary, like it was all I wanted… Your father gave me that.” Jacaerys blinks at her for a moment, a strange smile on his lips. “What?” He shakes his head slightly. 

“No one ever calls him my father, not even my mother,” he says after a moment, looking down to where their hands are intertwined on the table. “It’s nice,” he adds after a breath. 

“He’d be proud of you, of who you’ve become,” Aelyria says suddenly, sitting forward and using her free hand to lift Jacaerys’ chin. 

“He’d be happy we’re betrothed,” Jacaerys smiles, leaning closer to the princess. 

“Really?” 

“Yes,” he nods, “I remember one time, he happened to be watching training and you had just gotten dragged away by the Queen but you had put up a good fight before you left and he said, ‘There’s a warrior if I’ve ever seen one.’ I remember looking up at him and he just winked at me, almost like he knew.”

“I wish I had known him better,” Aelyria says softly after a moment and  Jacaerys nods, squeezing her hand. 

“Me too…” Jacaerys nods. For a moment, the pair sit in a comfortable silence, gazing at each other, taking in the fact that they’re together again after all this time. “Do you remember that hunt we had on my tenth nameday? When we ran off into the woods, hiding in the trees?” Aelyria laughs, the memory washing over her at his question and nods. 

“Yes, I do. Oh, what fun we had that day. We only got found because we could not stop laughing as they rode underneath us. Mother was so angry I ruined that dress,” they laugh at the memory together. Even though it had ended in a scolding for each of them, neither ever regretted that day. 

“I remember what I promised that day, and I swear I’ll keep it. Now that we’re betrothed, you are mine, and I am yours and once we’re wed, I’ll make sure you never have to heed your mother unless you wish to,” Jacaerys leans forward, intensity in his gaze as he makes this promise to Aelyria. “I quite like you as you are, and I won’t have her try to change you.” 

Aelyria smiles gratefully, wondering how she got so lucky as to be marrying this man; the boy she grew up with and loved as a girl, and the man sitting in front of her, with all his fierceness and devotion. Aelyria, too moved to speak, leans forward instead, pressing their lips together softly in thanks. Jacaerys doesn’t miss a beat, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek as he kisses her back. Her hand winds in his hair and their hands hold to each other tighter on the table between them. As their lips part, they don’t move away, instead connecting their brows together. They smile at each other, giddy in their love, hearts beating rapidly as one, as they always have and always will.  I, I Sweet tea in the summer Cross my heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you Pack your dolls and a sweater We'll move to India forever Passed down like folk songs Our love lasts so long

[messylxve]

old flame | aaron hotchner x reader

part two

content warning: angst, yearning, sad hotch, tension is THICC, mentions of abduction, guns, pregnant character, angry cops

pt1 pt3

Aaron still thinks about you most days. There was not much he clung onto from his years before, but you were one of the few he couldn’t let go of.

He supposed it was because you were one of the few things he never got closure for. You had just disappeared one day, completely untraceable as if you never wanted to be seen by him again.

And he didn’t know why.

It was a rather quiet day in the BAU. Morgan and Prentiss goofed off while Reid rambled on about…something. Aaron stuck it out in his office per usual.

He should have been doing paperwork, but his mind wandered elsewhere. It wandered to the picture in his wallet. He gazed at it sadly, wondering when it all went wrong.

The picture was of you and him: a selfie taken on a camera from when the two of you went to a store late at night and decided to cart each other around in the shopping carts.

Strange how some of the happy memories he had left, were of you.

“Hotch.”

He flipped his wallet shut, his attention now on JJ as she stood at the doorway of his office. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “What do you have?”

“Multiple abductions in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Two girls, a woman, and a boy. All ranging in ages, but all related to officers under the police force.”

“What’s the time difference between each?”

JJ shook her head, flipping through one of the folders. “Three days.”

Hotch quickly pocketed his wallet and stood from his desk. “We’ll do the debriefing on the jet, alert the others. Wheels up in 10.”

To say it was chaos in Harrisburg Police precinct was an understatement. Phones rang endlessly, people rushed around and the sound of arguing echoed from the chief’s office.

“It's not usually like this,” one officer greeted. “This has become personal for a few of us and they aren't taking it lightly.”

Hotch scanned over the precinct, the uneasiness in the air radiating out to his team. “I suggest you take those officers off the case. We can't afford any distractions from anyone to interfere with this.”

“That's what were working on,” he nodded over to the office where four uniformed individuals crowded around a desk. “They aren't making it easy.”

Hotch’s frown deepened before looking around. “Do you have a space for my team to set up?”

“Yes, right this way,” he motioned for the group to follow him before turning back to Hotch. “Chief wants you in her office before we begin breaking things down.”

“Thank you.”

Hotch didn't know why he didn’t suspect something when he heard the shouting the first time. Walking closer, he realized he knew that voice. It was the voice that had haunted him for years.

“Do not question my authority again. The four of you are suspended from this case. If I hear another complaint, argument or so much of a whisper about my decision your guns will be confiscated until the case is closed. Am I clear?”

Aaron’s heart stuttered. His hand found the doorframe to grip as he watched in awe.

A small chorus of ‘yes chief’ followed your reprimand from all but one officer.

“Am. I. Clear. Smith?”

The man grit his teeth, staring you dead in the eye. “Yes chief.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Each officer left the room, leaving the two of you alone and suddenly you felt like kids all over again.

“Aaron.”

“y/n,” he breathed out. “I didn’t know—,”

“Neither did I,” you interrupted, knowing exactly what he was talking about. You felt your defenses slip away for the first time in a long time in his presence. You hated to admit it but it felt good. Seeing him again despite all of the years away.

But that look in his eyes, the pain and heartbreak. It took you right back to the day you fucked up.

It was almost as a spell was casted, Aaron saw your walls form again.

You cleared your throat and folded your arms. “There are only so many officers I can have on the field for this, so I thank you and your team for being here.”

“I- of course.”

Aaron had never felt so unsure during a case.

“Agent Smith says he was on the phone with her right before it happened and she hung up quickly,” you mused, standing in the front entryway of the Smith home with Hotch and Morgan. “Jessica Smith was 8 months pregnant when taken…”

“Which means she couldn’t have put up much of a fight,” Hotch finished your thoughts. Your eyes found his for just a moment and your heart stuttered in its chest. Had it been so many years ago, the two of you would have laughed about it, or shouted jinx, but not anymore.

“But she still would have put up some semblance of a struggle. She didn’t fight at all.” You cleared your throat.

Morgan looked oddly between the two of you, crossing his arms. “Right, so is it possible the unsub had a weapon. Threatened her to let him in.”

Hotch shook his head. “I don’t think so, the unsub had to be someone she trusted.”

“But didn’t want around the kids,” you muttered, eyes staring down the entryway.

Morgan furrowed his brows. “What makes you say that.”

Your eyes flickered up to Hotch, that’s where they wanted to go, but you trained them on Morgan instead. “The other kids were home, would’ve ran to the door to see who might be there.”

Hotch watches you carefully as you walk over to the door, your gloved hand closing it. “Mom makes it to the door first, sees the unsub through the peephole and recognizes him, but thinks it might not be a good idea for the husband to know he was there.”

You turn away from the door, facing the men. “She hangs up the phone abruptly, tells the kids to go play and leaves her phone right here on the table before opening up the door.”

You open the door slowly and step outside, noting the mud on the welcome mat leading to the the first few feet of the house.

“The mud from the prints match the ones at the other scenes, but they don’t run through the house…they stop here.”

“She didnt want him far into the house at all,” Hotch finished off again.

“So that means the unsub is someone each family knows and Jessica recognizes, but is a sore subject, not wanting her husband to know he was there,” Morgan theorizes.

“Someone who was fired or discharged,” you realized.

Hotch furrowed his brows. “Have you recently let go of officers.”

You nodded your head. “A few. But there’s no way to go through files like that without getting unneeded attention from other officers.”

Hotch turned to Morgan. “Call Garcia, tell her—,”

“No need,” you interrupted. “I have direct files saved to my personal computer. It’ll be faster.”

Hotch eyes stayed on you, contemplating his choices.

“Morgan, get back to the precinct, update the others. l/n and I will retrieve the files.”

The car ride was…awkward to say the least.

Hotch had a million things he wanted to say, he needed to say. But somewhere between his heart and his voice, it died upon delivery.

“Spit it out,” you blurted out suddenly, forcing his attention to you.

“What?”

“You’re twiddling your thumbs and biting the inside of your cheek. Every time you look at me you take this gasp of air. What do you want to tell me?”

So many years had passed and yet you could still read him like the back of your hand.

“That was impressive back there…” he swallowed hard. “You’d make a good profil—,”

“Please don’t tell me you cooked up all of your guts just to tell me I’d be a good profiler,” you laughed.

It sounded harsh, but there was something in your tone that eased Aaron’s heart. He laughed too for the first time in a long time.

“No I guess not.”

However just as easily as the moment eased up, it easily tensed back into that painful silence.

“Why did you leave,” he blurted out finally.

Your smile dissolved so quickly, it pained Aaron to be the reason it was even there.

“I got an offer from UPenn. Full ride.”

Aaron frowned. “Congratulations.” It was genuine, despite how hollow his voice sounded. “But that’s not the real reason is it.”

Your voice suddenly felt very raw as you attempted to swallow back your emotions, but just as quickly as they left, it came back. “No…”

“Why—,”

“Because,” you burst out. “After that night, when you begged me to…” you couldn’t bear to finish that sentence. “…what we did…I couldn’t go back to what we were. It hurt too much to. I was ready to tell you everything when I saw you again but…you and Haley. She… I couldn’t do that to her.”

You were bearing your emotions out, on the verge of tears releasing every pent up emotion since that night and Aaron never felt more stupid in his life.

They had finally come at a red light when Aaron spoke up. “What night? What did I…what did I ask you to do?”

He was terrified of your answer.

But you. Everything in you stopped. Your heart, your brain, even your breath. Everything was so silent when you turned your head and finally looked him in the eye for the first time in ages.

“You really don’t remember?”

He shook his head. “No.”

No

No

No

His single word reverberated through your bones, sinking deep into your soul. What do you mean no?

You turned to the road, a humorless chuckle falling from your lips. “You don’t even remember.”

“y/n,” Aaron called your name with such desperation. “Please.”

You looked back at him, hearing that tone in his voice. Suddenly you were taken back to that night. Between the pleas in his voice and that depressingly sad look in his eyes, he looked just the way he did all those nights ago.

God how long is this light?

“You were drunk. Haley accused you of being in love with me. You begged me to kiss you to prove it was a lie.”

His heart squeezed in his chest and his lungs felt as if it was wrapped in barbed wire. It hurt.

“Did I?”

Your eyes flickered over to him for just a millisecond.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

part three out now!!

taglist: @mackannkees @gghostwriter

[hellsitegenetics]

I love this gimmick! Please do the lyrics to chattanooga choo choo (chosen because it was the most c/g rich thing i coild think of)

Pardon me boy, is that the Chattanooga Choo Choo?

Track twenty nine, boy you can gimme a shine

I can afford to board a Chattanooga Choo Choo

I've got my fare and just a trifle to spare

You leave the Pennsylvania station 'bout a quarter to four

Read a magazine and then you're in Baltimore

Dinner in the diner, nothing could be finer

Than to have your ham 'n' eggs in Carolina

When you hear the whistle blowin' eight to the bar

Then you know that Tennessee is not very far

Shovel all the coal in, gotta keep it rollin'

Woo, woo, Chattanooga, there you are

There's gonna be a certain party at the station

Satin and lace, I used to call funny face

She's gonna cry until I tell her that I'll never roam

String identified:

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a a aga a t ' at

t , tg c

Ta t a a '' gg Caa

a t t ' gt t t a

T tat T t a

a t ca , gtta t '

, , Cattaga, t a

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Closest match: Hedera helix genome assembly, chromosome: 22 Common name: Common ivy

[luxaofhesperides]

Childhood friends to lovers ; requested by @starlightcat04!

Duke’s grandmother lived in Illinois when he was a kid, years before he and his parents were captured by the Joker and the news of it sent her to a hospital that she didn’t leave until Death arrived for her. But before all that, before his life upended and tore itself to shreds in front of him, Duke used to visit her in the summers.

His parents didn’t want to leave Gotham, but they also didn’t want him to grow up there amid all the crime and rogue attacks. The solution was to drive down to his grandmother’s house, suitcase in the trunk, and stay with him there for a few days before they returned to make sure no one broke into their house. 

She lived in the outskirts of Amity Park, a town smaller than Gotham and much, much quieter. The change in scenery always blew his mind, and he spent most of his childhood summers running around the woods, accidentally scaring hikers. 

There were other kids in Amity, further in towards the suburbs, but he never got along with most of them, too strange, only here for a month or so, and carrying an awareness and sense of danger that all Gothamites had. 

He didn’t really have friends in Amity Park, except for one: Danny Fenton, local outcast due to his scientist parents'… everything. His only friend, a boy named Tucker, would always be gone in the summers as well, visiting family in Chicago and Pennsylvania. 

They gravitated towards each other, as lonely kids tend to do.

Danny helped make those summers fun, full of laughter and skinned knees and smuggled tech from the Fenton household to mess around with. They shared stories of their lives, comparing Amity Park to Gotham, arguing over superheroes and getting distracted each time by how cool heroes were. 

The last summer he ever went to Amity Park, Danny had gotten his first cell phone and eagerly gave Duke his number. Any time they weren’t together, they were texting until they fell asleep, phone still in hand.

The time they spent together was always limited, but Duke could swear that no one in the world knew him as well as Danny did.

He still misses him. 

They still text and call when they can, but it’s gotten hard over the past few years. Duke was caught up in foster care and searching for his parents and being part of the We Are Robin gang and then becoming the Signal. Danny, from what he’s shared with Duke, went through similar things of recovering from a lab accident and then having his town be overrun with ghosts, of all things, which had the government get involved and cause problems.

The few times they were able to find a quiet night where they could just talk and be Duke and Danny again were nights he always treasured, though they left an ache in his chest when it was over. 

It’s just been so long since they’ve seen each other in person. He doesn’t even know what Danny looks like anymore! And, sure, he could always ask for a picture, but it feels awkward. They know what they looked like before. And they’ve heard each other’s voices, know the basics of what’s going on in each other’s lives…

They still know each other, but Duke is all too aware of the distance that’s grown between them.

“Duke, seriously, what’s got you spacing out so much?” Steph asks, pulling him from his thoughts. 

He shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “Just thinking. Sorry about that. What were you saying?”

“I was saying,” she says, “That you should do a road trip. Or just like, travel around. Check out college campuses. Enjoy your last summer vacation of high school! Trust me, you’ll want the break before going into senior year.”

“Just because you’re two years older than me—”

“Excuse me for trying to impart my wisdom! See if I help you again when I’m older and wiser.”

“Sure, Steph,” he says, “Whatever you say.”

She squints at him. “What’s with that tone? I’m being helpful right now!”

“Mhm.”

“Geez. I should have let Dick talk to you. Anyways, I already told Bruce that you wanted to do this, so he’s agreed to fund it.”

Duke jerks upright in his seat, nearly falling out of it. “You did WHAT?!”

“You’re welcome,” Steph grins, unrepentant. 

“Steph, come on. This is unnecessary. Isn’t it better for me to help out more in the summer? Train more, work with the team on stuff, you know, important things?”

“Duke.” Steph’s voice suddenly turns serious and he can’t help but give her all his attention. “Listen to me. Your life is more important. If Gotham survived when Bruce was the only cape around, then it’ll survive while you prioritize your life. And that means touring colleges to figure out where you want to go.”

“I could just stay here and go to GCU.”

Steph just stares at him, unimpressed, and he has to admit, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not gonna do that.”

“Just enjoy traveling around, okay? And if you want someone to go with you…” she nudges him with her shoulder, repeatedly, very clearly hinting at something.

“I’ll be sure to ask Cass,” Duke says, and Steph rolls her eyes, but doesn’t deny that Cass would be a great travel partner. 

Their conversation comes to a halt when an alarm on her phone goes off and she drops her head with a groan. She grabs her bag and takes off with a quick explanation that she has to get to class, one she hates but is determined to ace just to spite the professor, and in no time at all, Duke is alone again. 

Without Steph providing him a distraction, Duke has nothing to do but read through his texts with Danny. It hasn’t been that long since they last talked; four days ago is nothing compared to the months of silence that went between them a few years ago. They’ve gotten better since staying in contact since then, and make sure to text at least once a week. 

It’s not perfect, but it’s better than nothing.

He considers asking Danny where he’s planning to go. Maybe they could go to the same place together, live in the same apartment, be able to finally stick together. Not that it’ll ever happen; the more likely outcome is that they’ll be accepted into different universities, chose places closer to their respective homes, and still be far apart.

An idea begins to form in his mind.

They’ve had summers together before. Maybe they could have one more.

First, he needs to talk to Bruce.

He’s working from home, thankfully, typing away at a laptop in his office when Duke knocks on the door and pokes his head in.

“Duke,” Bruce smiles, pushes his laptop away. “Come in.”

“Hey. Steph said she talked to you about me traveling this summer?”

“Yes. She was very insistent that you go visit any universities that pique your interest. I’ve already agreed to fund everything, and I can take care of plane tickets and hotels as well.” 

Duke nods, trying not to look too nervous. “Yeah, so about that. Could I travel with someone? Would that be cool? Or is this a thing for me only?”

Bruce blinks. “I promise cost is not an issue. Adding another person won’t be a problem. Who is it?”

“Ah, no one you know. He’s a childhood friend of mine who lives in Illinois, and I’d like to spend a summer with him again.”

“Who is it?”

Oh boy. Bruce is definitely going to find everything he can about Danny and his family and start interrogating Duke about him. But if that’s going to let him travel the country with Danny, then he’s more than willing to deal with it.

“Danny Fenton, from Amity Park. The town with the ghost problem.”

Bruce leans back in his chair. “I’ve heard of them. The League discussed investigating it when the news first got out, but Constantine warned us to stay away due to risk of possession. It seems that the local hero, Phantom, has it all in hand.” Bruce nods, already thinking deeply about his next steps. “Alright, I’ll need to do some research. And send me a list of the universities you’d like to visit so I can plan your itinerary.”

“Cool. Thanks, B.”

Duke leaves as quickly as he can after that, letting out a relieved breath  once he’s sure no one is around to hear it. 

Step one is done. 

Now for step two: communication.

duke: hey, are you free for a call anytime soon? danny: yeah! we can call now if u want :)

Well! That was way faster than he was expecting. 

He all but sprints through the halls to get to his room and locks the door behind himself. It won’t do much to stop anyone from actually coming in, but it is a sign that he wants privacy. Once he’s sure no one is going to be listening in and interrupting, Duke pulls up Danny’s contact and hits the call button.

It rings twice before Danny’s picking up, greeting him with a cheerful, “Hey Duke! What’s up?”

“Hey Danny,” he replies, unable to help the way his voice softens with affection. “So, this is totally out of the blue, but if you could spend this summer going around the country with me, would you?”

“I mean, yeah, obviously. You know I’d do anything to spend more time with you! Why?”

Duke grins. While he was sure about what Danny’s answer would be, that didn’t stop him from worrying about a rejection. “Well. Bruce has offered to fund the entire trip and bring someone along.”

“Wait, seriously? You want me to go with you?”

“Who else? Dude, you know I love spending time with you, and I’ve missed you like crazy.”

“Oh my God, you’re serious. Duke! Yes, I want to be your travel buddy! Are you kidding me? In what world would I say no?”

“Hey, man, you can’t blame me for making sure. Are your parents going to be fine with that?”

Danny goes quiet, and Duke feels his heart drop. “Danny? Is something wrong?”

“No,” Danny says, followed by a bitter laugh. “They won’t care. I’ll just tell them I’m going traveling with a friend and that’ll be enough. They’re too busy to care much about what I do, these days. They probably won’t even notice that I’m gone, now that Jazz isn’t here to remind them that I exist.”

“How is Jazz, by the way? We could visit her.”

“She’s doing fine. Really loving Harvard. And I’d love that Duke. You’re the best.”

The mood of the conversation eases and they fall into the usual rhythm of catching each other up, chatting about their lives and any other thought that crosses their minds. It’s easy for the hours to slip away with Danny, and before he knows it, there’s a knock on his door as Alfred calls him for dinner.

He hangs up with a quick goodbye to Danny, along with a promise to send him the itinerary once it’s made. 

Somehow, news of his summer plans get out by the end of the day. Which means Steph blabbed and feels no remorse about it. The next week of Duke’s life is overtaken by nearly every trying to help him plan and prepare for his trip, while lightly interrogating him about Danny. By the time he was heading off to the airport, agreeing to take one of Bruce’s smaller private planes which was piloted by a man who definitely wasn’t Jason going by the name 'Todd Jameson'. Of course not, that would be silly.

(Duke sighed very, very loudly when he saw Jason waving at him from outside the plane. He should have expected the guy to take advantage of Bruce needing a pilot and teasing him about Danny.)

He can’t bring himself to be too bother by it, though, when it means he’ll get to be with Danny again soon. Duke would pay any price to be with him again, so this is hardly anything.

They set off with a wave from Duke and Jason flipping the bird to the rest of the family. And then Jason is up in the cockpit, blasting his playlist of songs from musicals, and Duke is left to wait impatient for the next few hours until they reach Illinois. 

The hours pass far too slow but also much too fast. Duke feels like he barely has time to prepare himself before they’re landing smoothly and Danny texts him to let him know he’s at the airport.

Jason sees him off before heading out to take a call from Roy, telling him to find his own way to his hotel. Duke barely pays him enough mind to say goodbye, grabbing his suitcase and hurrying into the airport, searching for the terminal Danny’s at. 

He doesn’t find Danny first. Danny finds him and slams into him like a freight train. It’s only his training that keeps Duke from toppling over, dropping his suitcase to hold Danny. They cling to each other tightly, as if they might never see each other again. Danny’s got his legs wrapped around Duke’s waist like a koala, and Duke would be happy to carry him forever. 

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” Danny murmurs into his ear. Duke shivers, holding him tighter, and smiles.

“Yeah. I know. Man, you don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

“I think I can take a pretty good guess.”

Danny pulls away, dropping his feet back to the ground. 

Duke is finally able to see Danny for the first time in years, and he’s pretty sure he stops breathing for a solid minute. Danny grew up fine. He’s got the bluest eyes he’s ever seen, and soft black hair that’s a little windswept and messy, and his grin is as bright and beautiful as always. For a moment, Duke wants nothing more than to kiss him.

Then Danny steps back and the thought fades. 

“Ready to go? We’re going to UChicago first, yeah?”

“That’s the plan,” Duke says, falling into step with Danny as they make their way out of the airport. “Then a day just to hang out in Chicago before we head to Harvard.”

“Cool,” Danny grins. “Hotel first, though, right?”

“Yeah, man, catch up time is essential.”

Danny glances over at him, something unreadable in his eyes, but he smiles when he sees that Duke is already looking at him. “Let’s get going, then.”

Danny drives them in a car he apparently made himself, which explains why it’s a model Duke’s never seen before. It drives like a dream and Duke is very tempted to get Danny to make one for the Signal, maybe even wrangle up a contract to have him work with Batman Inc. 

They spend the two hour drive chatting and laughing as if no time has passed at all since they last saw each other in person. All the years seem to fade away and they’re just Duke and Danny again, spending another summer together. 

Check in goes smoothly, and the room Bruce has booked them is large, with two beds, a seating area, and a dining area. A glass door leads to a small balcony with two chairs and a fantastic view of the lake behind the hotel. They set both their suitcases on the luggage rack, and Duke only has time to turn to Danny to ask which bed he wants before he finds himself pressed up against the wall, Danny’s hands on his cheeks.

“Tell me if you don’t want this,” he whispers against Duke’s lips.

Duke doesn’t bother replying. He just leans in, closes the minuscule distance between them, and kisses Danny. It’s soft and sweet and everything he’s ever wanted.

Then Danny makes a small noise in the back of his throat and deepens the kiss. It goes from soft to heated and desperate and all consuming instantly. Duke slides his hands around Danny’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer, and thinks I never want to leave you again.

He’s completely lost track of time when Danny pulls back with gasp. They both take a few seconds to catch their breath, and Duke realizes his cheeks feel cold.

“Sorry,” Danny whispers, pulling his hands away. Duke catches them before they can go too far and holds them together.

“Sorry for what?”

“The frost,” he says, wiggling his fingers lightly. Duke glances down and sees that his fingertips are lightly coated in frost, spilling down his fingers.

“You have powers?”

“Came with the lab accident.”

“Man,” Duke says, “We have got to catch up properly. There’s a ton I haven’t told you.”

Danny laughs lightly, breathlessly. “Oh, for sure. But later. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for years.”

“Danny, baby, you can kiss me all night if you want.”

“I intend to,” he says with a bright grin.

What else could Duke do but lean in and kiss him again?

Nothing else exists in that moment except them. Duke is so, so glad he’s got the rest of summer to spend with Danny. He’s going to take him on dates in every city they visit. 

They’ve gone years without seeing each other. Duke refuses to let it happen again. Whatever future awaits them, he’ll do all he can to keep Danny in it. 

But for now, he’s got his cute childhood friend to kiss and all the privacy a hotel room can offer. He fully intends to make the most of it.

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

[storiesofsvu]

Love You Always

Rafael Barba x reader warnings: language maybe? it's pure fluff y'all. This was a request that I took a little bit of a spin on but the end result is the same and the prompt still fits and works lol Quick reminder: as Barba has over 50 ppl on his taglist and that is tumblr's max, if you do not interact with this/other barba post you will be removed for someone who is on the wait list who actually does want to read and interact.

When you’d made the move from a small town in Pennsylvania out to New York you really had no idea what was in store for you. Getting the opportunity to live in the city was a huge enough thrill on its own, delicious food, incredible night life, easy enough to get around and a plethora of places to meet people. Work was consistent, busy enough to keep you stimulated and making money but never overwhelming, you always had weekends off and were reminded you never had to take work home unless you really wanted to.

The level of freedom you felt was an incredibly good thing, especially considering your boyfriend seemed to never stop working. You were free to swing by on your lunch, making sure he ate something other than chocolate covered espresso beans and would happily be the one to drag him out of the office at the end of a long day. Though you had no complaints about the matter, you loved him no matter what and knew that what he did was important, not to mention incredibly admirable.

The two of you had moved in together a couple of years ago, a nice two bedroom apartment smack in the middle of your commutes. Rafael had turned the second bedroom into a home office but hadn’t completely taken it over, leaving half of it for you to outfit however you’d like. He never wanted it to just be his space, wanted to make sure you always felt welcomed and wanted even if the most you normally did was curl up with a book in the arm chair beside his desk. He utterly adored having you around, the quality time beside another human was more than enough for both of you, you were able to communicate without words by now. There were moments where Rafael wouldn’t even realize he’d been letting his work stress him out until your gentle hands were on his shoulders, massaging out the knots. There were other moments where you were so sucked into your novel you had no idea how much time had gone by until he was pressing a kiss to the top of your head, mentioning you’d both missed dinner.

There had been talks of the future of course, some of them happening before you bought the apartment, making sure you were making the right investment, but there had never really been a talk about marriage. You’d talked about where in the city you wanted to live, decided on kids or no kids, if you wanted to stay in the same career path, what you’d like to do after retiring and while you knew you were in each other’s stories, a ring never came up. You loved your romantic movies and Rafael knew that, often watching them with you, a small smile on his face as you tried to hide your happy tears or blamed your sniffling on allergies. He knew you were a hopeless romantic and did his best on a regular basis to show you how much he loved you, flowers, treats, fancy date nights and the like.

The first time marriage truly came up was when you were out for dinner and witnessed a very public proposal that you immediately turned your nose up at. Rafael raised a brow and you let out a small laugh, explaining that not only were they incredibly tacky, nearly forcing the person answering to say yes, but this one in particular was going to end in a fight once they were home. Never ask a question like that if you don’t know the definite answer. On the other end of the spectrum, the two of you had a fantastic date night and you were certain it ended better than the not so happy couple.

The second time it technically came up Rafael was coming home entirely too late and while you didn’t have particular plans, you had happened to fall asleep on the couch waiting for him. He felt a pang of guilt wash through him when he found you, half full glass of wine on the coffee table with an empty one meant for him. When he woke you up to get you to bed he apologized, promising that it wouldn’t happen again. You let out a soft giggle, still half asleep and mentioned something about it not being a problem, you knew you were his side chick, he was married to his job after all, it was his wife and you were okay with that.

The third time it came up when your cousin’s wedding invitation came in the mail and you asked if he wanted to come with you. He laughed, saying of course he did and pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, he was your plus one forever after all. You returned the laugh, letting him know it was back in Pennsylvania, it would be a minimum of a three day trip out there, you’d have to leave midday Friday and likely return late on Sunday, if not Monday. He simply shrugged, saying he’d make absolutely sure that his schedule was cleared, this was something that was important to you and he didn’t want to miss any of those.

Rafael had been expecting the usual wedding festivities, friends new and old reuniting between a couple of smaller hotels or bars around the town. Some whom had kept in touch, some who hadn’t spoken since graduation. There was plenty of catching up, questions asked and answered about careers, families, kids. He was prepared for all of that, prepared to whisk you away the second anyone started nagging a little too hard about getting married or starting a family of your own. Instead he was met with you laughing, winding your arm in his and saying that the two of you were your own family.

What he definitely wasn’t expecting was to be hit with a brick wall of emotions when the actual wedding started. Everything was so incredibly beautiful, the church lit up perfectly, stunning bridesmaids dresses that correlated with the groomsmen pocket squares, ties and socks. The flower arrangements were gorgeous, the music matched the vibe immaculately, every single detail you could imagine was well thought through and executed amazingly. His hand in yours as the ceremony started, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as the bride stepped into the room and he knew you would be teary eyed in a matter of seconds.

He couldn’t help but watch you throughout the ceremony, a small smile on his face, one that you caught and smiled back to every time you looked over at him. You loved love, and you loved him and that made him feel so incredibly warm inside, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your eyes glistened in the sunlight, a glimmering of happy tears in them as the couple began their vows and it became very obvious you weren’t the only hopeless romantic in the room. They told stories of their childhood, how they’d been best friends at such a young age, how through time they had went their different ways but always seemed to find their way back to each other. How they’d gone to different colleges, lived on opposite sides of the country and even when they didn’t stay in touch, life had a way to keep their invisible string intact. How she’d been smitten from the moment they reconnected, how he surprised her on their first anniversary with a plot of land where she’d always dreamed of living, and how he was going to build their dream home. How much they meant to each other, that they wanted to spend the rest of their days and then some together, how much they believed in destiny and how thankful they were that they were brought back together and realized what true love was because it was so often sitting right in front of your nose.

Rafael didn’t think he was a sap, but the misting in his eyes would prove otherwise.

The way your hand was softly squeezing at his thigh whenever something particularly romantic or emotional certainly wasn’t helping either. And the look of complete love, awe, hope and longing reflecting from your eyes was enough to drive him wild. He found his heart beating faster in his chest, butterflies racing in his stomach, he wanted to be the one on the receiving end of that kind of a look. He was utterly lost in his romantic thoughts until the couple kissed, the church erupting in applause and you were tugging him to stand, cheering to celebrate their new union.

He managed to keep his cool throughout dinner, though he got a little misty eyed when the speeches started. Out of pure instinct you were cuddled into his side, the more intimate and loving the stories and speeches got, the closer the two of you got to each other. There was nothing either of you wanted than to be with each other and this celebration of love was solidifying it.

The two of you were up on the dance floor, encouraging your nieces and nephews to burn off all the sugar from the cake dancing around as wildly as they could before having to leave. A slow song started and you thought for a moment you were leaving the dance floor until Rafael grabbed your hand, a sparkle in his eye as he twirled you under his arm and then his other hand slid around your waist, leading you in a slow rhythm around the dance floor. A blooming of happiness started in your chest as your cheek rested next to his, small smile on both of your cheeks as you danced.

“You’ve been quiet,” you murmured, “not having any fun?”

“Quite the opposite.” He chuckled, his lips brushing your cheek.

“Then what’s going on in that brain of yours, hmm?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” You asked, your head coming to rest on his shoulder.

“You.” He replied, his hand rubbing at the small of your back, “love. This.” You felt his hand come off your back, gesturing to the room, “How beautiful it is. How beautiful you are. How happy I am with you, and that I want that kind of happiness forever. That I want this. With you.”

“Careful Rafael, this is starting to sound like a proposal.” You teased from your spot on his shoulder, feeling his chest rumble as he chuckled.

“Never. That would be incredibly inappropriate, I’m not one to steal someone’s moment.”

“Sure.” You laughed and he playfully rolled your eyes as you lifted your head up. The hand he had holding yours moved to cup your face as you stepped even closer together. His eyes gazed into yours with nothing but absolute adoration.

“But believe me when I say this, I’m going to marry you one day and one day soon.” His thumb brushed over your cheek and you felt a dopey smile take over your lips, “our own special day where I get to tell everyone just how much I love you, how I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, how you deserve the entire world and I got so incredibly lucky because you chose me.”

“And I would a million times over.” Leaning in you pressed your lips to his, a small sigh relaxing both of you into the kiss as you continued to sway. Your cheek came to rest against his once more, his hand briefly cupping the back of your head before moving back to your waist. “Because I love you Rafael, more than anyone in the world. I’m lucky to have you to love.”

“I love you too.”

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, continuing to guide you around the dance floor until the song came to an end. For the third time today he found a misting of happy tears in his eyes, the same ones reflecting in yours except this time it was because of your own love, your own little secret that no one else in the room knew quite yet. That not only did you have a future together but he was going to be able to call you his wife, and that meant the entire world to him.

____________

@fandom-princess-forevermore @bisexualcrowley @detective-giggles @plaidbooks @averyhotchner @beccabarba @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @prurientpuddlejumper @letsdisneythings @neely1177 @mrsrafaelbarba @lv7867 @bisexual-dreamer02 @skittle479 @amelia-song-pond @madamsnape921 @altsvu @svulife-rl @caracalwithchips @mysticfalls01 @ssaic-jareau @barbasbodaciousbeard @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @michael-rooker @rafivadafreddy @darkheart-brightsmile @australiancarisi @tinyboxxtink @ex-uallyactive @lawandorderuswnt @lustvolle-liebe @sia2raw @narvaldetierra @dxtery @lannister-slings-and-arrows @poisonedcrowns @anlin2058 @xoxabs88xox @momlifebehard @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @godard-muse @somethingimaginative17 @alexxavicry @dextur @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @valentinesfrog @silversprings-mp3 @wittygutsy @gamma-rae-bursts @int4n @just-moondust @deanwinchestersgirl87 @bubbleswrld

[mossfrg]

Jersey Gotham

Okay as someone born and raised in Jersey, I feel like we as a fandom are missing out on truly Jersey-ified Gotham. Like, c’mon, Jersey Girl Brucie Wayne??? So here I am to present a list of things I need more of because god damn it make Batfam— mostly Bruce, Jason, Tim, Steph, and Duke— Jersey (all based on my own personal experiences/real things that have happened to me):

Bruce cannot pump his own gas. He just. Doesn’t know how to. It’s not like a rich person thing, he just never learned cause he’s from fucking Jersey and never leaves Gotham. Jason didn’t know how and Talía lost her shit “How??? You are child superhero??? Who died and spontaneously came back??? But you can’t pump gas??” Tim kinda knows cause of Titans but again, he never really had to. (There’s a Twitter threaded dedicated to the Wayne family titled “is this rich or Jersey”). Steph and Duke can but they both pretend not too.

There have been fist fights over whether it’s pork roll or taylor ham. Jason and Bruce are very adamantly pork roll like the good Southern Jersey boys they are— it’s the one thing they can agree in most days— but Tim is taylor ham. Steph and Duke, despite being South Jersey, like to cause chaos and flip sides constantly. Dick, Damian, and Cass couldn’t care less.

The Absolute Hatred of New York/NYC. Doesn’t matter which kid it is, Bruce (and Alfred) got them all on board with this. Don’t even get them started on the Statue of Liberty; it’s a Wayne family tradition to try and buy it from NY because technically it’s more in NJ than NY and it’s closer too. They’ve yet to be successful but Bruce has hope for when it’s Damian’s turn.

And bc of this hatred of NYC comes the support of Philly!! None of them are super big sport fans, but they do cheer for Eagles, 76ers, and Union. Bruce, thanks to Alfred, is a big fan of soccer (“it’s football, master Bruce, I didn’t raise you in a barn”), and is a member of the Sons of Ben. He can be found in the River End of the stadium with Jason cheering for Union at pretty much every home game. There are multiple videos of Brucie Wayne and Jason Wayne screaming at refs, launching fireworks off the roof, and cursing out opposing teams’ players. Duke and Tim can be found 76ers games, while Steph frequents Eagles games.

Accents. Pls for the love of god give those boys (and Steph) accents. They are from New Fucking Jersey. They say “cawfee” and “tawlk.” They pronounce 0% of their t’s in the middle of words— kitten is ki’en, Trenton is tren’in. Jason and Steph drop letters when they gets pissed, Bruce slurs words, Duke and Tim drop passive-aggressive “y’all’s” to piss people off.

Driving. Now it’s not that they’re shit drivers, it’s that everyone else is a shit driver, and it’s not helped that majority of them learned to drive in the Batmobile. Steph has a loudspeaker on her car and frequently yells “fucking Pennsylvania turn your goddamn blinker on!” while driving. Bruce has a room in the manor dedicated to his speeding tickets. Tim as gotten into multiple fists fights at lights because people were driving slow in the fast lane. Jason is infamous for doing the Jersey Slide.

Jason, Tim, and Steph have gotten mugged before. They talked their way out of it and gave tips to the mugger. Bruce has kicked a rabid raccoon while walking home before because what else was he supposed to do? Duke has ordered a “pork roll egg and cheese on an everything” before in Not-Jersey and cried because they don’t have it. Several foreign benefactors of WE have asked for translators at meetings with Brucie cause Brucie’s accent is so thick and exaggerated. IN CONCLUSION: making Batfam (and gotham) Jersey is funny as hell and presents so many good opportunities. Make Batfam Jersey! (again these are all just my personal experiences, big state yada yada, different experiences, blah blah idgaf I jsut need batfam fist fighting over pork roll)

[sl-ut]

you should probably leave

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

description: joel is enamoured by his new neighbour, but old patterns will always be his downfall.

warnings: UNEDITED, slight age gap, slight smut, implied unprotected piv, protected piv, swearing, alcohol consumption, insecurity, angst, reader is given a birthday (she's a sag like me)

words: 10.8K (my longest fic to date)

date posted: 14/03/23

part two

(inspired by you should probably leave by chris stapleton)

OCTOBER 12, 1998

The weather was something that she was unsure if she could ever get used to. For her entire life, she had spent the entirety of the late autumn months dreading the first snowfall of the season before lugging out her extensive collection of knitted sweaters and fur-lined boots. Instead, her little archive of winter clothing was left in a cardboard box in her childhood bedroom, along with the majority of her other belongings that she had not brought with her on her grand adventure–if you could even call it that. 

The University of Texas at Austin had not been her first choice of school, or her second, or third; she actually had never even imagined going to school any further than a few hours from her hometown in Pennsylvania, and yet there she was, standing in front of her brand-new home, sweltering under the harsh Texan sun as she struggled to unload her packed car all on her own. Well, to call it her home would be a pretty tight stretch, as well as to label it as “brand-new.” 

The small bungalow-style house had caught her eye on a flyer in the grocery store, a listing for one female roommate in a cul-de-sac not too far from the city. It wasn’t exactly her dream home by any means, with an ugly yellow exterior and a kitchen that could certainly use an updating, but it she had recently been forced out of her own apartment due to her previous roommate preferring her boyfriend to live their with her instead and it was the nicest of the few places within her price range that would also accommodate the mutt she’d rescued during her first year. All things considered, it was quite literally perfect for her situation–plus her new roommate seemed to have been at least more considerate of her boundaries than the last, which gave her some hope that things might actually work out. 

Y/n grunted at the weight of the box, cursing herself internally for enrolling in school and owning so many textbooks as she lugged it up the front steps, dropping it just inside the door. She couldn’t help but grimace as she glanced up, meeting the watchful gaze of Manny, his furry little head tilting curiously–likely wondering why she was making so much ruckus and interrupting his nap. 

“Lazy ass,” she muttered under her breath at him, kicking the box to the side before trudging back out the door.

The next few boxes were filled with clothes and shoes, fortunately for her spine. She hauled several out, dropping each of them to the pavement of the driveway carelessly as she wiped at her sweaty forehead, apparently too enthralled in the work to notice the beat up truck as it turned into the neighbouring driveway.

“Hey there,” she turned to find a young man, his hair combed back to expose his effortlessly charming face to her, “You need a hand?”

She glanced down at the boxes at her feet, “I wouldn’t wanna bother you.”

A young girl appeared at his side, wide eyes peering over at the older female curiously. The man shrugged, puffing out his broad chest as he moved. Y/n almost laughed at how obvious he was being, only seconds after meeting her. The man gave off the impression that he had always thought fairly highly of himself, probably the quarterback of the high school football team, maybe even involved in the armed forces–the navy, she was betting. He crossed the barrier between the two driveways in two long strides, extending his hand out to her as he came closer. 

“I’m Tommy,” he flashed her a grin, his accent coming out thicker than it probably would have normally. He glanced over his shoulder, motioning for the young girl to follow him into the neighbouring yard, “This is my niece Sarah.”

Y/n smiled politely, shaking his hand lightly, “Hi, I’m Y/n. I guess it’s nice to meet some of my new neighbours.”

“Well, Sarah, here, is your neighbour. Me, I live–”

“What happened to Stephanie?” Sarah interrupted, “I didn’t know she was moving.”

Y/n turned her attention to the young girl, “She isn’t, we’re just living together now.”

Sarah’s mouth formed an ‘o’, the gears visibly turning in her head as she formulated her next question, “Are you guys dating?”

“Sarah!” Tommy choked on his spit, “I’m sorry–”

“It’s okay,” Y/n chuckled at his response before turning back to the young girl, “No, we’re not. I guess she just didn’t wanna be living here all on her own anymore.”

Tommy’s shoulders relaxed, the mortified expression leaving his features in favour of one that she might have even considered relief. He shook his head at his niece, giving her a hard stare, “I’m sorry about her. I figured that she would have some better manners by now–my mistake.”

Sarah swatted at him, a pout appearing on her lips as her brows furrowed. The girl didn’t quite understand how the question may have been taken with offence by some, and was quite miffed by her uncle’s insult. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” Y/n affirmed, “I think it’s actually a good thing that she knows about that kinda stuff.”

Tommy glanced down at the boxes, clear discomfort appearing on his features, “Alrighty then, how about these boxes?”

Y/n gave in, offering Tommy one of the heavier of the three boxes, while shifting the smallest and lightest to the young girl, who had been adamant in helping out. She instructed them to just drop the boxes to the floor by the door, not looking to take up much more of their time. 

A loud gasp escaped Sarah, her wide eyes falling on the mutt, who had appeared to have been equally as excited to see her as he rushed over, tongue lolling out of his mouth and tail flapping wildly. Sarah squealed when he barrelled into her, a fit of giggles leaving her mouth as he brought her to the ground and began to cover her face in slobbery kisses.

“Manny!” Y/n groaned, grasping the dog’s collar and pulling away enough for Sarah to sit up off of the floor, “Sorry, he’s just convinced that everyone wants to be his friend.”

“I’ll be his friend!” Sarah beamed, reaching out and squishing the dog’s face in between her palms, “I mean… Can I?”

Y/n shrugged, “As long as it’s okay with your…” She glanced at Tommy for help, unsure about Sarah’s parentage situation. He’d already made it clear that he did not live next door, but had never explicitly stated who did.

“You’ll have to ask your dad, Sarah,” He chastised her, “Anyway, we should get out of your hair now, let you settle in.”

Y/n nodded, “Yeah, thank you for the help, though.”

“No problem, ma’am,” He winked, southern charm on full display as he stepped out onto the front step, “Anytime for a pretty girl like you. C’mon, Sar.”

Sarah begrudgingly offered the needy pup one more affectionate squeeze before following after her uncle, leaping off of the step and bounding across to her own front yard. Tommy paused, hand resting on the railing of the step and giving it a firm shake. His lips pursed into a line as he let out a small huh as the bannister shifted out of its place, then back in under the pressure. 

“Yeah, Steph said there were all kinds of little things wrong with the place,” Y/n noted, “But hey, if it’s got four walls and a roof, it’s good enough for me.”

He chuckled at her, shaking his head, “You know, my brother and I are contractors, we could come over and help you fix things up if you guys wanted.”

She hummed, “I’ll mention it to Steph. Wouldn’t wanna just start making changes to her house while she’s not here, would I?”

Tommy hummed, “‘Spose that’s true. Anyway, I should go see where she ran off to, but I sure hope I’ll be seeing you around.” He shot her a cheeky wink before jogging back over to the neighbouring yard, leaving her and Manny among the mess of boxes in the entryway. 

Y/n huffed, glancing around at the mess, then at the furry little beast at her feet, who waited patiently for her to begin offering him her love and attention. She rested her hands on her hips, shaking her head softly, “Well, let’s just get this done, boy.”

– – –

Joel grunted as he clambered in through the side door of his home, sighing in relief as he slipped out of his heavy work boots and dropped the armload of groceries onto the kitchen counter. He could hear the TV on in the living room, drowned out by Sarah’s yell of a greeting. He rushed to put away the groceries, sticking the brown paper bags in the recycling before stepping into the dimly lit sitting area. 

Tommy was reclined on the couch, slumped into the worn leather like a pile of mashed potatoes as he balanced his can of Budweiser on his bent knee. He nodded to his brother briefly as he lifted the beer to his lips, hardly taking his eyes off of the football game on the screen as Joel plopped down next to him. The older brother leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to Sarah’s head so as to not disturb her as she worked on her homework on the coffee table in front of the couch before finally copying his brother’s position.

“The hell took you so long? You left the site the same time I did, and I had to go pick this shithead up from school,” he playfully kicked at Sarah’s leg, “plus I helped your new neighbour move in.”

“Supermarket was a zoo,” Joel moaned as he ran his palm flat over his face, then furrowed his brow, “What new neighbour?”

Tommy nodded his head back in the direction of the mustard yellow house, “Chick next door got a new roommate.”

“Uncle Tommy was flirting with her,” Sarah chimed in, not taking her eyes off of the math textbook in front of her.

Joel rolled his eyes, “Now tell me why I’m not surprised.”

Tommy shook his head, taking another large gulp of beer, “I know what you’re thinking, but this girl’s different. She’s not from ‘round here. Not sure where, but she’s got an accent. Canada, maybe.”

“You know what a Canadian accent sounds like?” Joel scoffed, knowing that his brother was prone to drawing his own conclusions. 

“Well, no,” Tommy frowned, “But I imagine it might sound like that. Doesn’t matter, I think I’m gonna ask her out.”

Joel grunted in response, turning his eyes to the game on the screen.

“She wasn’t flirting back,” Sarah grinned up at the two men, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her father’s growing smirk and giggling as his own laughter came tumbling out. Tommy kicked her again, only this time with a little more force, “What? You invited yourself over there and were all,” She puffed her chest out and deepened her voice, “Anything for a pretty girl like you.”

Joel rested a palm on his belly as he shook with laughter, his other hand landing on the top of his daughter’s head affectionately as Tommy crossed his arms, sulking. 

“I think she was flirting back,” he argued.

“She wasn’t,” Sarah reaffirmed.

Tommy leaned forward, “Now how the hell would you know anything about flirting, huh? You been doin’ a lot of it at school?”

Her face burned in embarrassment, sputtering for a response, “No, that’s gross!”

Joel frowned at her, shaking his head in feign sternness, “You better not be. Otherwise I might need to break out grandpa’s old hunting rifle.”

She didn’t utter another word, simply gathering her things in her arms and rushing off to her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her as the laughter of her father and uncle followed her every step.

OCTOBER 17, 1998

Just under a week had passed since he’d first caught wind of his new neighbour, and Joel had yet to even see this woman. He’d noticed the new car in the driveway, and he’d picked up on the presence of the dog fairly quickly, especially after he’d caught Sarah tossing some of the vegetables from her dinner over the fence for him. Joel hadn’t paid it much mind, he was far too busy to be concerned with some young girl who didn’t seem to be causing much issues. 

He’d had words with Stephanie several times in the past; once for blatantly smoking pot on 

her front step when they were heading out for the day, then for leaving her garbage bin too close to his driveway, causing him to back into it and scratch the paint on his truck, and then once more when she’d had a little get together that ended up lasting until 4am, when the police arrived. He would normally have called himself a narc for having the party shut down, but it was keeping Sarah awake and the door had been shut in his face when he went over to ask politely. 

The day had been long, and normally he would have refused Tommy’s invitation to head over to one of the local dive bars, but after dealing with the shit-show that had gone on at the job site that day, he really needed a drink. Sarah was out of the house, anyway, having slept over at a friend’s house, so there was quite literally nothing keeping him away.

“Brother’s night, my ass,” Joel grumbled into his glass, glancing over to the corner booth, where his brother had joined a pretty brunette, leaving Joel to himself at the barside. He waved at the bartender, motioning for another top-up of his whiskey. 

A figure appeared at his side, leaning onto the bartop to call out to the bartender. Joel glanced over, his eyes raking over her radiant side profile in awe. He shot his gaze back to the glass of amber liquid in front of him, then briefly over to the girl once more. His eyes narrowed in on her pursed lips, noting how her brows furrowed in frustration as the bartender migrated to the other side of the bar. She turned to him suddenly, and Joel whipped his head back around to ensure that he wouldn’t appear to be some creep–though he was positive he certainly had been.

“Is it always like this here?” She asked him, tilting her head. “I swear, I’ve gone to three different spots along this bar, and buddy keeps looking in the other direction.”

He cleared his throat, “You not from around here?”

She smiled sheepishly, “Is it that obvious?”

Joel chuckled, “Just a little. You gotta get his attention, be firm. Here,” he tucked his index finger and thumb into his mouth and let out a loud whistle, nodding at the bartender as he rushed over. 

“Two vodka crans, please,” The girl smiled prettily at the bartender, then scoffed as he turned to begin pouring the drinks, “Shit, I guess I could stand to learn a thing or two.”

“It comes with time,” He frowned, realising that he may have implied that he was at the bar every other night, “I mean, not that I’m–”

She touched his arm softly, electricity running through her fingertips and into his bicep, “Hey, I’m not here to judge you if you’re not here to judge me, heh?”

He nodded, opening his mouth to speak once more when another figure appeared at her side. His smile dropped, taking in the sight of his next door neighbour, probably one of the last people he wanted to see on his night off.

“What the fuck is taking you so long–oh,” Stephanie narrowed her eyes at the older man, who simply turned and took another long swig of his whiskey, “Hello, Joel.”

“Stephanie,” he drawled, “How you doin’ tonight?”

She smirked at him maliciously, “Fine. Y/n, this is the guy I was telling you about.”

Oh, this is Y/n, he thought to himself, suddenly understanding Tommy’s instant interest in the girl. 

“All good things, I hope,” he sighed into his glass.

She shook her head, “Oh, just that you’re the neighbour from hell, and that you’re a narc.”

Y/n tucked her bottom lip in between her teeth, visibly uncomfortable at the confrontation. His eyes fell to her mouth at the movement, wondering what it might feel like to take that same lip in between his own teeth. 

“You keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night, Steph,” he huffed, praying to any god that would listen that she hadn’t completely turned Y/n against him.

Stephanie sneered at him, grasping one of the drinks from the bartop and stomping off, leaving a thick tension over the remaining two. Joel met Y/n’s gaze once again, noting the visible embarrassment on her face as she began to laugh slowly.

“Sorry about her,” She laughed nervously, “For the record, I know that she’s a little dramatic.”

“‘T’s fine,” Joel grumbled, swallowing the last gulp of whiskey, “You ain’t gotta apologise for her, she can feel however she wants about me.”

Y/n chuckled, a genuine one this time and Joel couldn’t help but carve the melodious sound into his memory, “I’m Y/n, by the way.”

He nodded, accepting the soft handshake that she offered, “So I’ve heard.” He noticed the slight furrow of her brow before he clarified, “I’m Sarah’s dad.”

Realisation crossed her face, “Oh, Sarah! She’s a real sweetheart.”

“Yeah, she is,” he smiled softly at the complement, “She sure likes you, and I’m assuming that it’s your pup that I’ve caught her feeding her broccoli to?”

Y/n giggled at him, “Huh, I’d noticed that he was especially gassy lately. Here I was thinking it was something in the water.”

Joel let out a loud laugh, then realised that he had not actually introduced himself, “Shit. Sorry, I just–” he coughed, “I’m Joel.”

“So I’ve heard.” She repeated to him, clearing her throat before turning to gaze at him through her lashes with a soft smile, “So Joel, is this seat taken?”

– – –

Y/n had not expected to have enjoyed herself quite so much when Stephanie forced her to go to the grubby little saloon, feeling incredibly out of place among all of the southerners. She had been hesitant to leave Manny on his own so soon after moving in, but the last thing that she had wanted to do was get on Stephanie’s bad side so early on. Then, she’d stumbled upon the devastatingly handsome man sitting all on his own at the bar, and her tune changed drastically. 

She sat on that stool for the better part of two hours after Stephanie had fucked off, leaving them to become acquainted with one another. Joel had offered her another drink, which she accepted under the terms that she would buy the next round, and against his better judgement, he found himself doing a shot of tequila with her as well. She smirked to herself when she took note of the flush that had crawled into his cheeks, and how cheerful his dark chocolate eyes looked under the dim lighting of the bar. 

Y/n had noticed Tommy in the corner booth, and how he had been blatantly pressing his southern charm onto the brunette under his arm in the very same way that he had to her, which made her feel much better knowing that he couldn’t possibly be that upset about her doing the exact same to his brother. 

Her hand had come to rest on his knee, leaning across to invade his personal space animatedly as she spoke, her own cheeks flushing each time that he grinned or laughed at her words, and she had lost count of the amount of times that she had rubbed her thighs together or considered smashing her lips to his. 

Tommy appeared at his side, clutching his shoulder in his firm grasp, “Hey Joel, you think you’re ready–oh, hey, Y/n.” His cheeks had turned red, one hand self-consciously rising to rub at his cheek, where the stark red lipstick stain had once acted as a trophy and was now an admission of guilt. Tommy pursed his lips, “Wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

She shrugged, “Steph forced me out.”

He nodded awkwardly, unsure of how to save himself in this situation. 

Y/n turned her head, catching sight of her roommate’s drunken attempt to seduce the bouncer before turning her attention back to the older of the two brothers, squeezing his knee once before sliding off of the stool, “Speaking of, I should probably leave, she’s gonna get us banned from here any minute now. It’s been nice, talking to you, Joel. See you, Tommy.”

Both men watched as she disappeared into the crowd, eyes trailing after her figure longingly.

Tommy huffed, “You think I still got a chance?”

Joel’s shoulders shook in a drunken fit of giggles, lifting his own hand to proudly show off the nine digits that had been marked into his skin, “Nope.”

Tommy’s jaw dropped, clear disappointment on his features before it was quickly replaced by pride, “Well fuck, brother. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

OCTOBER 31, 1998

Y/n wiped at the sweat on her brow, breathing picking up in delight as she turned the corner and the blinding yellow house came into sight. The sun had already begun to set by the time that she and Manny had set out on their evening walk, now settling low on the horizon and casting a golden hue to the world below it as Manny tugged on his leash, obviously also desperate to escape the heat. 

A loud honk sounded from behind her, muffled slightly by the music playing over her bulky headphones, drawing her attention to the dark pickup truck as it sped past, Sarah hanging out the back window with a grin on her face as she waved dramatically. Y/n chuckled at the young girl, allowing Manny to lead her into a faster pace as they grew closer to their house.

She slid the headphones down to rest around her neck, pressing pause on her walkman as Sarah rushed towards them. The girl paid very little mind to the woman holding the leash, instead dropping to her knees and reaching out for the excited dog’s face, laughing as he began to lick enthusiastically at her cheek. 

“Hi,” her gaze rose to find Joel as he rounded the bed of the truck, hand resting on the top of the tailgate as he tried his best to look casual, “sorry, this one never shuts up about that dog.”

Y/n smiled at him, warmth flooding through her cheeks. She’d only actually spoken to Joel a handful of times since that night at the bar, mostly simple greetings while Sarah occupied herself with Manny. Joel was too awkward of a person to try anything with Sarah present, and Y/n was too compassionate to question him about why he hadn’t bothered to call yet in front of his daughter. 

Y/n shrugged, “To be fair, he never shuts up about her, either.”

“Oh did he tell you that?” The man asked, brows raised playfully, “I didn’t know you spoke dog.”

“There are many things you don’t know about me yet, Joel,” She smirked at him, “Oh, happy Halloween, by the way.”

“Right,” Joel raised one hand to stroke his hairy chin, “Yeah, you too.”

Sarah glanced up from Manny’s pleading brown eyes, “Dad forgot.

Joel sent a sharp glare to his daughter, then smiled sheepishly at her, “Not too concerned about a holiday that’s got nothing to do with me, anyway–this one decided she’s too cool for trick-or-treating with dad this year.”

“Oh don’t feel too discouraged, I gave my dad the boot when I was even younger.”

“See?” Sarah pressed, glancing back at her father, “You don’t even like Halloween, I don’t get why you’re mad.”

Y/n widened her eyes and clutched her chest dramatically, “What do you mean, you don’t like Halloween? It’s like, one of the best holidays!”

Joel rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t tell me you’re one of those people.”

She pursed her lips, “And just when I was starting to like you, Miller.”

His eyes met hers, curiosity pooling into the dark mocha irises as he considered her words. He almost appeared apologetic; could he feel guilty about not calling her? Y/n did her best to not appear too shaken by his lack of contact–she hadn’t expected anything from him the next day, but after two weeks and still no call? She’d taken that as a sign that he’d been a tad too drunk when he had been so shamelessly flirting with her, and that he had no intentions of ever pursuing anything. 

Y/n was thankful when Sarah interrupted the pair, preventing her from spiralling into a nervous breakdown from her own inner monologue, “What are you dressing up as?”

The woman shook her head with a mischievous smirk on her lips, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see when you come knocking at my door, huh?”

“No big plans?” Joel tilted his head, “I figured that roommate of yours would have you out on the town.”

She shrugged, “Steph’s out of town. Something about the drinks and the guys being stronger. Looks like it’s just gonna be me and my little guy here,” she gently clapped a hand against Manny’s side, “Well, us and a selection of horror movies.”

Sarah stood up, leaning into her dad’s side with her elbow, “How convenient, my dad will also be home alone tonight.”

Joel dropped his head in embarrassment–just leave it to Sarah to blatantly play the role of her father’s wingwoman. He refused to meet Y/n’s amused gaze, ears burning as Sarah continued.

“And he totally loves horror movies. He watches them all the time.”

“Oh really?” Y/n did her best not to burst out laughing, enjoying the sight of both Joel’s embarrassment and how confidently Sarah was trying to talk up her own father. She crossed her arms over her chest, doing her best to not make it too obvious how much she actually wanted to invite him to join her, but she didn’t want to display too much interest in him if he genuinely had none in her, “Well then maybe he should head to Blockbuster before all of the good ones are rented.” 

She raised her brow at him, signalling to him that it was his turn to make a move, as she would not be making any more. He nodded at her, red flooding his cheeks as he tried to muster up the courage to discuss the clear tension between them. 

Y/n smiled politely at them both, then glanced down at the heavily panting dog at her feet, “Well, I better get this guy out of this heat. See you guys in a bit, then?” She led the dog past them, glancing back over her shoulder, her lips pursed as she watched Sarah poke at her father’s side sharply. 

The young girl smirked at her dad knowingly, remaining silent, though the expression on her face made her thoughts very clear to the man. She scowled at him, crossing her arms over her chest, “Christina’s sister is so right; all boys are stupid.”

The man scowled at his daughter, watching in silence as she moved around him without another word, disappearing through the front door without so much as another glance. Joel scoffed, shaking his head at her, and wondering how the hell his nine year old could be so goddamn right about the situation. 

– – –

Joel wiped his hands anxiously across the expanse of his thighs, attempting to rid himself of the nervous sweat that had collected in his palms as he stood on Y/n’s front step, mustering up the courage to finally knock. 

“The fuck am I doing,” He cursed to himself, shaking his head as he ran a hand over his face. 

Y/n was younger than him; not by a lot, but they were still in very different stages of their lives. He wasn’t willing to admit that he genuinely did like her, and considering that she was still a young woman and still in college, he wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for with him. Was it just some quick fuck that she wanted? Joel wouldn’t be opposed–hell, he was ashamed that he’d imagined such a thing more than a few times since meeting her–but he wasn’t sure if he could jump into bed with her and then move on with his life, nor could he expect her to be willing to just pick up the role of step-mother to his little girl. 

Joel had woken up on October 17, hungover as hell and struggling to recall any of his memories from the night before. He’d forced himself out of bed much earlier than he would have liked, needing to pick Sarah up before her soccer game. The man had stumbled his way into the shower, blindly going through the motions of bathing himself as the warm water slowly began to remove the fog from his mind. It was then, as he had reached out for his bottle of body wash that he noticed the smudge of blue ink on his skin, and then jumping in surprise at the memory of the beautiful woman who had given him her phone number–the woman who had him laughing like he hadn’t in so long and blushing harder than he thought possible–the woman who he hoped was now lying peacefully in her bed next door, preferably all on her own. 

The few times that he had seen her since then, he had thought about apologising for not calling and telling her the truth of what had happened, despite his embarrassment. He wanted to ask for it again, but every time, Sarah was there, making a fuss over the little pooch that never seemed to leave Y/n’s side. He wished that he were more confident in himself, more willing to speak to other women even if his daughter was there, but he simply would never be able to look at the young girl again if Y/n were to reject him. 

“Shit,” He swore loudly as he turned to rush off of the step, instead booting one of the carefully carved jack-o-lanterns onto the pavement of the driveway and watching in horror as it shattered on impact. 

“Joel?” He froze at the sound of the door creaking open behind him, smiling bashfully at the young woman as he did his best to not appear too guilty. Her eyes fell from his flushed face to the mess of orange at his feet, a surprised chuckle leaving her lips, “Damn, you really do hate Halloween, huh? Enough to come over here and start destroying my decorations, anyway.”

He sputtered for an answer, “I–it was an accident, I just knocked it off by accident on my way out–”

“Your way out?” She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the doorframe, “So what, you were just loitering on my front step?”

He scoffed at her, “I was actually on my way to apologise, but if you’d rather I just get lost…”

Y/n raised a brow inquisitively, “I’m listening.”

“I just–I’m sorry for not calling,” Joel admitted with a sigh, debating whether or not it would be best to explain exactly why, “For what it’s worth, I would have if I hadn’t washed it off by accident.”

An amused expression crossed her features as she mulled over his explanation, “You…washed it off?”

He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, “I did.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, as if she were trying to decipher whether or not he was being truthful, “Okay.”

His gaze shifted from side to side, uncertain as to what she meant, “Okay?”

“Okay,” She affirmed, “So what time did you wanna come over tonight?”

Joel swallowed the lump in his throat, “Tonight?”

Y/n shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the butterflies that slammed at the lining of her stomach and threatened to erupt, “Tonight. You said it yourself, Sarah’s gonna be gone all night, so would  you rather be home alone or come over? Otherwise, I’ll just be here by myself, scared and in need of a devastatingly handsome cowboy to protect me from Michael Myers.”

Blush spread across his cheeks, his hands coming up to rest on his hips, “I don’t know about ‘devastatingly handsome’, but I think I could handle some asshole in a mask.”

She grinned at him wickedly, “That’s what everyone thinks, but I guess we’ll see tonight, around eight?”

“Eight.” He confirmed, then glanced down at the mess at his feet, “And sorry about your pumpkin.”

“It’s alright,” Y/n smirked, “You’ll just have to work extra hard to make it up to me.”

– – –

Joel anxiously adjusted his shirt, frowning at himself in the window of her front door. Despite dismissing Sarah’s teasing by claiming that this was in fact, not a date, he’d taken her advice in showering the moment that he had gotten into the house. 

He was aware that she was flirting with him, but until he had gotten out of the shower, towel sitting low around his waist as he wiped the steam away from the mirror and took in his shaggy appearance, he had not been at all concerned about what activities the night might lead to. Staring at his own reflection, nervousness quickly began to settle into his bones.

He had made quick work with the clipper, shortening the length of his facial hair after several weeks of negligence and leaving his lower face to be covered by a light stubble. He put a little more effort into his hair than usual, running a thin layer of gel through it while noting to himself that it was probably time for a haircut. He even took things a step further, dabbing a few drops of some woodsy cologne onto his skin; the bottle had gone untouched for two years, having been a Christmas present from his mother.

“Are you wearing cologne?” Sarah asked as she appeared at his side, face painted to resemble a circus clown, “I knew this was a date.”

“It’s not a date,” He argued, doing his best not to jump in fright at her appearance, “Shouldn’t you be out on the town by now, Ronald McDonald?”

“You showered, put on cologne, and you’re bringing candy? It’s a date.” Sarah listed, “And I’m Pennywise, by the way. Christina’s sister is coming to pick me up soon. She says that guys always dress up when she goes out with them because they want her–”

Joel grunted, glaring at his daughter, “I want you to stop hanging around Christina’s sister.”

Sarah ignored his comment, “Is that what you’re wearing?”

Joel glanced down at his outfit–a clean pair of jeans and an old t-shirt that he’d probably gotten out of a beer box or something, “What’s wrong with this?”

“What’s right with it?” 

Joel considered his parenting style for a moment, wondering if he would be free of this headache if he had spanked his daughter once or twice in her life. Sometimes he forgot that the girl was only nine years old with how intelligent she was and how much more mature she seemed in comparison to other kids her age. 

“It’s not a date, Sarah.”

She rolled her eyes, “It could be. Come on.”

Sarah rushed past him, leading him into his own bedroom as she began to dig through his closet. She frowned with almost every piece that she picked out, tossing them behind her recklessly and ignoring her father’s scolding for the mess that she had quickly created. 

“Hah!” The girl pulled out an egg-plant button down and shoved it into his grasp, “I knew you had to have something that wasn’t that ugly.”

He grunted at her, but didn’t reply out of respect for her brutal honesty as he quickly shed himself of the worn t-shirt he’d previously been wearing in favour of the one that Sarah had chosen. Now, as he stood at her front door and internally decided for himself that this was a date, he couldn’t help but thank God for his daughter’s awareness.

Finally, after tugging at the hem of his shirt, he raised a fist and knocked heavily on the door. Joel choked on his own saliva when she appeared in the window, smiling sweetly at him when she pulled the door open. She had already changed into a pair of black yoga pants and a sky blue shirt that exposed just a tasteful amount of her midriff. 

“Hi, again,” she breathed, a smile forming on her face, “You look nice, purple is definitely your colour.”

Joel burned, “I–thank you. Sarah picked it out.”

Y/n turned to the girl, who had already ushered the dog up onto the sofa with her, “Well she has a clear eye for style.”

“She definitely thinks so, that girl damn near harrasses me about my clothes everyday.” Y/n laughed out loud, Joel’s ears tingling at the melodious sound, “You look great, too.”

Y/n beamed down at her outfit, shrugging to herself, “Thanks, I thought about keeping my costume on but I wasn’t entirely sure how much you would be into Strawberry Shortcake.”

Joel chuckled at her, glancing down at the object in his hand, “I brought beer, by the way. Wasn’t sure if I should bring anything, or if you even like–”

Y/n reached out, snatching the six pack from his grasp, “Ever the gentleman, cowboy. So, you coming in?”

– – –

The house was filled with laughter, both having nearly finished their first beer as they shared stories freely. Halloween played quietly in the background, though neither of them paid too much attention. Y/n did her best not to physically melt when she felt Joel’s arm drape across the back of the sofa behind her, resisting the urge to tease him for attempting to cover it up by faking a dramatic yawn. 

She brushed her fingers along the top of his thigh, smirking to herself as she watched his leg slowly shift closer to her, though he didn’t address the affectionate touch. He spoke to her softly, and made an effort to hold eye contact with her as he did to–she was starting to feel some guilt about the conclusion that he’d drawn about him after he’d failed to call her. Her own gaze continuously fell to his lips as he spoke, and she was sure that he had noticed by the way that his lips began to curl confidently. Her heart hammered in her chest, wondering how much longer she would need to wait before he finally made a move.

Joel, however, was wondering exactly how he possibly could make a move. While feeling confident around her, there was no way to escape the fact that he hadn’t been on a date in at least a year, and he could count the amount of women he’d slept with since Sarah’s mother on one hand. At various points throughout the night, he had considered leaning in to kiss her, but had successfully siked himself out each time. The first time, he’d been interrupted by the pooch who had been jealous of his owner’s attention being focused elsewhere, though he could only blame every other time on his own insecurity.

“Do you want another beer?” Y/n asked as he swallowed the last gulp out of his can, “Or I have wine and pop?”

“Pop,” he scoffed, chest rumbling with quiet laughter.

She raised her hand and slapped his pec as she stood up from the couch, “Fine, you don’t get anything.”

He laughed, watching as she disappeared into the kitchen and shamelessly admiring the shape of her backside in the darkness of the dimly lit living room. He sat there for a few moments, staring at the movie in discontent, sighing as he ran his hand over his face and murmured a nearly silent fuck it, and following after her. 

“Is it too late to apologise and get that beer?” 

She glanced over her shoulder at him, smirking as she shrugged coyly as she turned and leaned her back against the front of the refrigerator and holding the perspiring can out in front of her, “You’ll have to come get it yourself.”

Joel crossed the small room in two long strides, stopping as the can met his chest, though he paid it little mind as she stepped away from the fridge, pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips. He froze for a second, stomach clenching at the soft touch. 

“Sorry,” Y/n whispered, though her tone betrayed how unapologetic she truly was, “Was that okay?”

He didn’t respond, quickly taking the beer out of her grasp and tossing it onto the counter as he cupped her face, capturing her lips with his and pressing her back against the fridge once more. She smiled against his lips, fingers bunching in the material of his plum coloured shirt and tugging him even closer. 

His lips were chapped against her own, the telltale sign of a busy man who hadn’t been too concerned with his physical appearance up until now, though she could not picture another kiss that she had received in the last several years that would even compare to Joel’s. 

One of his hands fell, fingers splaying around her waist as he pressed even closer, parting his lips as he felt the tip of her tongue prod at the seam and allowing her to seek out his own. He moaned at her taste, fingers wandering to her hip and hesitating, almost as if he had been asking for her permission to move even lower. She grasped his hand, guiding it around to cup her bottom.

Pulling away for air, she giggled softly and fluttered her eyelids open to find him already staring at her with blown pupils. One of her hands slid up his chest, tugging at the collar of his shirt before her fingers trailed over his patchy beard affectionately, “I don’t know if this is too soon, but do you wanna move to my bedroom?”

Joel chuckled at her, squeezing her cheek through her yoga pants, “Lead the way.”

– – –

Joel worried that he might have gone into cardiac arrest as he struggled to catch his breath, back slouched against the headboard as Y/n slumped flush against his chest. The cotton sheets pooled around her hips as she continued to move softly, working them both through the aftershocks of their climaxes. The man sighed in appreciation as her lips continued to slide against his jawline and leave gentle kisses in their wake, her fingers still lost in his dark curls.

Joel’s own hands squeezed her hips as she finally slowed to a stop, helping her slide off of him and smirking to himself at the whine she let out at the loss of contact. She shifted, moving out of his lap and curling into the cool sheets on the bed next to him.

“How was that?” He panted, “Have I done enough to make up for lost time?”

She grinned at him, her own chest rising and falling with her slowing breaths, “I think I recall doing most of the work, actually.”

“Bein’ on top doesn’t mean you were doing any work, sweetheart, I think we both know that.” His eyes fell on the digital alarm clock on her bedside table, grunting to himself as he took note of the late hour, “Shit–how the hell is it ten-thirty already?”

She glanced over to the clock briefly, then back at him, “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

Staring down at her nude form, guilt began to eat away at him as he began to slide off of the mattress and begin gathering his clothes that had been scattered around the room. 

“Are you leaving?” His back was turned to her as he pulled on his jeans, though he could only imagine the look on her face from the emotion that dripped from her voice; she was disappointed, facing the reality that she would be abandoned after doing something so intimate. 

“I mean…” Joel coughed, “Yeah, I should probably leave. Gotta work early tomorrow, and Sarah’s got soccer practice, and–”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest in an attempt to regain her modesty, “I get it.”

Joel couldn’t help but wonder how many times she’d done this. She seemed disheartened, but not entirely surprised at his decision to head out, as if she was expecting this time to be different from the others–as if she was expecting Joel to be any different from the other shitty guys she’d met since moving to Austin.

“Darlin’,” Joel cooed, coming to sit at the edge of the mattress and cupping her face in his large palms, “It’s not like that. I want nothing more than to stay the night, but I know that I won’t sleep a wink tonight if I do.” His thumb stroked her bottom lip as her mouth slanted into a small, saddened smile. He leaned in, pressing three kisses to her lips, each one longer than the last before pulling back, “Can I get your number? I promise I won’t ask for a third time.”

Y/n smiled at him, kissing him once more before snatching a pen off of the bedside table and scribbling on his hand, “You won’t get it if you ask for a third time, Miller.”

MARCH 12, 1999

Y/n sighed blissfully, gnawing at her lip to prevent any moans of pleasure as Joel worked himself into her over and over, his hips meeting hers with slow, meaningful movements as he did his best to keep both of them quiet. Joel wasn’t normally one for booty calls, though he had hardly seen her in the past few days and couldn’t resist when his mind had wandered while in the shower–and for the first time in what felt like decades, he could rely on the help of soft, feminine touches rather than his own fast and rough tugs. 

Her thighs shook, teeth biting into the pillow beneath her face as she pressed her hips back against him and arched her spine in pleasure. She met his thrusts enthusiastically, fingers winding into the sheets tightly. 

“Shit,” She gasped, “Joel, I’m gonna–”

“I know,” He rasped, “Shhh baby. Let go, I’ve got you.”

She didn’t hold back, allowing the white hot pleasure to run through her veins, muffling her cries in the plushness of the pillow. Her walls clenched around him, gripping him for everything that she could manage as he fucked her through it, head rolled back in pleasure as his own orgasm teetered over the edge. His fingers tightened around her hips, hauling her back against him a few more times before his seed painted the inside of the condom. 

His hands slid up from her hips, one pressing on her back to force her to lay flat against the mattress while the other cupped the soft flesh of her belly to roll her over. Joel took in her figure, eyes scanning her face for any signs of discomfort before dropping to her breasts; the man was absolutely entranced by the shape of her breasts, eagerly pawing at them during makeout sessions and suckling at them with the utmost love and desire as he fucked her. She smiled at him tiredly, hooded eyes admiring his own figure as he slipped out of her, sliding off of the bed and disappearing into the ensuite. 

When he returned, he wore a pair of black boxers and carried a maroon washcloth in his hand, carefully parting her legs and sliding the cloth through her folds, puffy and sore from his touch. He whispered an entirely disingenuous apology as he pressed lightly against her abused clit, chuckling to himself as she jumped. Tossing the cloth aside, he settled into the mattress next to her, sliding an arm around her waist and tugging her into his side, sighing in relief at the physical contact. 

The rising sun had slowly begun to peek through the blinds, filling the room with a soft glow in the aftermath of the third round. Y/n glanced at the clock on the far wall, sighing to herself as reality settled into her bones. She hadn’t intended on staying so long, especially after how eagerly the both of them had initiated the first round, having allowed herself to remain at his side until she felt his member begin to grow against her thigh once more. Now, after taking him inside of her three times over the past six hours, she knew that she would eventually need to get up and leave–a habit that they both had and hated when they were finished. 

She pressed careful kisses into his flesh, lips moulding to the sweaty skin of his shoulder and neck affectionately while her palm rubbed circles into his firm chest. Joel nuzzled his head into her hair, his own lips pressing to the crown of her head as he, too, appreciated the afterglow. 

Y/n’s body and heart screamed at her as she finally pulled herself away from him, hopping out of the bed and collecting her clothing from the floor. Joel watched her with sunken eyes, his attempt to remain stoic as he easily recognised what she was doing proving fruitless.

“You don’t–you don’t gotta go just yet,” he called to her, desperation lacing his voice, “Don’t gotta be at the site till eleven tomorrow–”

“Today,” she corrected, “And that’s in seven hours. Besides, I don’t wanna fall asleep and risk having to run into Sarah. I should probably leave.” 

He nodded slowly, continuing to watch her as she dressed and fixed her appearance, preparing herself mentally and physically for her four A.M. walk of shame. Joel wanted to call her back to bed again, to convince her to stay with him and promise breakfast in the morning, but instead watched helplessly as she disappeared into the dark hallway, and closed his eyes disappointedly at the sound of the front door closing behind her.

JUNE 2, 1999

Golden rays of sun peeked through the blinds, trailing up the length of the bed with each passing moment before finally gracing over the soft skin of the woman next to him. Joel laid in his bed as still as possible, one arm around her shoulders to keep her flush against his chest, savouring the intimate, domestic moment before it would eventually come to an end–it always did.

The alarm clock flashed the time tauntingly at him, as if mocking him for wanting to keep her there for much longer than he knew he could. This was undoubtedly the latest she had stayed in his bed; it was nearing six A.M. and she had yet to stir from her deep slumber. 

His eyes trailed the length of her bare back, his fingers pressing gently at the indent of her spine as he pushed her body impossibly closer to her and bathing himself in the feeling of her nude body against his own. Joel resisted the urge to shake the growing ache out of his leg as pins and needles crawled up the length of his limb, too afraid to move and wake her–he knew what would come once her eyes had opened, as she had done it countless times now. 

It was the twitch of her fingers against the soft flesh of his belly that alerted him to her growing consciousness, nails following the pattern of hair that covered his abdomen softly, drawing a quiet moan of delight from the man beneath her. He felt the curve of her lips against his shoulder, turning his head to meet her eyes as they fluttered open.

“Morning, cowboy,” Her throat was dry and her voice was scratchy, but her words still held the power of causing an eruption of butterflies in his gut. 

“Morning,” He leaned closer, the tips of his nose brushing her own before she swatted him away, covering her mouth self-consciously and mumbling something about morning breath. Joel chuckled at her, moving her hand away and planting a soft, closed-mouth kiss against her lips. 

Her smile grew, hazy vision flickering around the sun-lit bedroom as realisation dawned on her, “What time is it?”

Joel’s own smile faltered as he cleared his throat, glancing over at the alarm clock again, “Five-to-six.”

“Shit,” She groaned, a hand settling on her forehead, “I should probably leave. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” 

Joel shook his head at her, “You ain’t got nothing to apologise for. I like having you here.”

She pecked his lips again, fondness creeping through her at the man’s admission, “I like being here. But I should go before Sarah wakes up.”

Joel caught her arm as she moved to crawl out of the bed, “Stay.”

“What?”

“Sarah knows you’ve been coming around and leaving early in the morning.” He told her, thumb smoothing circles against her wrist, “She says she’s happy for me, but she said that she won’t approve until you start bringing that damn dog of yours over here when you come.”

Y/n chuckled, her eyes growing a thin red rim along her waterline, “What are you saying?”

“I’m asking you to stay. Every damn night you spend here, you go rushing out like this is just a quick fuck, but I think we both know that it’s a lot more than that. Just come back to bed, please.”

Y/n shook her head at him, glancing over at the rising sun through the blinds in contemplation before she finally shrugged, crawling back into the bed and settling against his naked form with a sigh, her hand resting on his chest as she massaged small circles into his sweaty flesh. Both of them relaxed into one another, enjoying the silence of the early morning and dreading the unavoidable fate of the alarm going off in the coming hour.

NOVEMBER 27, 1999

Y/n tapped her nails against the hardwood of the tabletop rhythmically, doing her best not to make her dissociation too clear as her friends and family chattered back and forth. Her mother was busy on her left hand side, sharing dozens of her favourite childhood photographs to Y/n’s friends with a fondness that only a mother could have, while the seat to her left was empty. The watch that she’d received as a gift from her parents sat on her wrist, the time ticking away as grief settled in her stomach, the realisation that he simply wasn’t coming eating away at her pride.

Her birthday was not something that she generally liked to celebrate, but knowing that her parents, siblings, and a few members of her extended family had orchestrated a trip to visit and celebrate with her had her counting down the days, especially after she had convinced her unofficial boyfriend to join them for dinner at one of the nicest wallet-friendly restaurants in Austin. Now, as she sat silently and watched as her friends laughed and cooed over possibly the most embarrassing photos of her while picking at their slices of birthday cake, her mind only wandered to where exactly he was, and how much more fun she would be having if she were warding him off of any of those photographs–especially all of the ones from her junior high years. 

She hadn’t had the chance to speak to him at all that day, having woken up after he had already left for work and dropped Sarah off at school. At the time, Y/n had smiled to herself, thanking him mentally for allowing her to sleep in on her birthday, though she was beginning to wonder if she should have taken the lack of birthday wishes as a sign. 

She actively avoided Stephanie’s gaze, wanting to escape the oncoming I told you so, and made as little eye contact as possible with her mother, who watched her sympathetically, and her father, who silently raged over the presence of the empty chair. Y/n now felt embarrassed over how much she’d actually gushed over the man to her family before dinner, wondering if maybe she was more invested in him than he was in her. After all, he had yet to officially ask her to be his girlfriend, despite the fact that she and Manny had taken up residence in his home at least four nights a week and that she had been included in more recent movie nights with him and Sarah. 

Maybe she was reading into it too much–something must have happened. Something happened to Sarah, or maybe Tommy had been locked up again. There was no way that Joel had forgotten her birthday, there was simply no way.

– – –

Joel’s feet ached, crying out in pain with every step and sighing in relief as he finally kicked off his heavy boots. The crew that he’d brought on for his most recent and highest paying job to date had given him hell that day, leaving him aching for nothing more than a hot shower and a peaceful night at home with his best girls. He hated having to tack on extra hours to his day, but not arriving home until after ten was something that he would have to deal with in order to finish the job, and he was hoping to save up to take Y/n and Sarah on a little getaway for a weekend in the near future. 

The kitchen was dim when he stepped in, and he was somewhat surprised when he discovered no plate of food left for him in the microwave, nor was there a pan of leftovers in the fridge. Instead, there was a single empty carton of a microwavable dinner on the counter along with an empty can of Pepsi. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, he shrugged it off, though he had grown accustomed to Y/n bringing dinner over and making sure that it was ready for him on days that he worked late. 

Soft footsteps rushed down the stairs, Sarah rounding the corner with a wide grin on her face as she held a small piece of paper in her hands. 

“Hey babygirl,” Joel kissed her head softly as he moved into the living room, even more confused when he did not find Y/n curled up on the couch with a stack of her textbooks, as she so often did while waiting for him to return. 

“Hi dad,” Sarah’s smile dropped, glancing back into the entryway in confusion, “Where’s Y/n? I made this card at school today but I figured I’d wait until after you guys came back to give it to her.”

The blood in Joel’s veins ran cold, his heart skipping a beat at the sudden realisation of why his house appeared to be so void of his girlfriend, “Fuck.”

“Dad?” Sarah’s wide eyes narrowed, all too used to her father’s undiagnosed case of short-term memory loss, though he had never ever forgotten something like this before.

“Shit,” He swore again, snatching his keys off of the counter and rushing to jam his feet back into his uncomfortable boots, “Sarah, go to bed. I’ll be back later tonight.”

The girl watched helplessly as her father raced out the door, tears welling in her eyes as she stared down at the happy picture she had pasted into the card and frowning as she feared the worst.

– – –

Joel arrived at the restaurant just before eleven. He knew it was a long shot, as the reservation was for seven-thirty, which he had purposefully written down and stuck to the fridge so that he would not forget. The few remaining staff inside shook their heads in pity at the man, quickly coming to understand his situation as he rushed inside, asking about the reservation with a bouquet of flowers in his grasp. 

His shoulders slumped as he parked in his driveway, trudging across the lawn into the neighbouring yard and knocking firmly on the door. He waited a few moments, cursing quietly as he got no response and knocking again. 

His frown deepened when the door swung open, a fuming Stephanie standing in his way. Her face burned scarlet, fists clenched at her side as she took in Joel’s pitiful appearance. She took a step forward, joining Joel on the front step and closing the door behind her. 

“The fuck do you want?” 

“Where’s Y/n?” He asked, ignoring her bluntness.

“She doesn’t wanna talk to you,” the girl sneered at him. “It’s one thing to stand someone up, even to forget their birthday, but to embarrass her like that in front of her family?” She scoffed, “you know, I warned her about you, but I took no pleasure in being right. You should have seen her tonight, barely spoke at all.”

The metaphorical knife in Joel’s gut twisted at her words, the fist clenching the bouquet tightening even further around the stems. He could picture her; all dolled up, chatting with her family as she eagerly awaited his arrival, her pretty smile dampening as time passed and eventual tears in her eyes as she realised the truth–he had forgotten about her. 

“Just let me talk to her,” he begged, “Please.”

Stephanie shook her head, “I think it’s best if you never show your face on my property again, Miller.”

“Joel?” Both of their eyes turned at the sound of Y/n’s voice, finding her peeking around the door curiously. “Steph, can you give us a minute?”

The woman sent Joel one final glare, patting her roommate on the shoulder before slipping back into the house. 

If the knowledge of what he’d done hadn’t been enough, Y/n’s appearance was the final blow to his gut. Her eyes were bloodshot, cheeks swollen and marked with visible remnants of tears. She wrung her fingers together anxiously, keeping her gaze lowered in shame as she closed the door behind her and turned to face him.

“Baby–” 

“Don’t.” Y/n interrupted, “Just explain.”

He sniffled, “I can’t explain it, or excuse it. We got held up at work, and I really need this job to be done and over with already. I’m so sorry, baby.”

She shook her head, lifting her sleeve to wipe at the underside of her nose, “You didn’t even say goodbye before you left this morning. Did you even remember at all?”

Joel bit his lip, “I’m sorry. Let me–”

“Joel,” Her voice cracked, “I love you.” His heart soared as she spoke those words for the first time, then shattered as she continued, “I understand that I’m not your first priority–that’ll always be Sarah and I can’t blame you for that. But, fuck, you suggested the restaurant, Joel. You spoke to my mom over the phone and promised her the best steak in town, and she sure seemed to like it, but you weren’t even there. I won’t ever be your first priority, but I can’t be your last, either.”

“Y/n–”

“I think my cousins liked it, you know.” She continued, wiping at her cheeks, “They’re the type to pray for your downfall, and I’m sure they were loving every second of the dinner once everyone realised that you weren’t coming. Hell, all I did all night was talk about how amazing you were, and then–” Y/n cut herself off with a quiet sob.  “You should probably leave.” 

“Don’t do this,” Joel cupped her face, dropping the flowers to the deck recklessly as he wiped the tears away from her cheeks with his thumbs, “Tell me what to do. Hit me, yell at me, do something, but don’t ask me to walk away.”

She looked into his eyes, and for a moment, Joel felt hopeful that she might actually listen to him, though all hope was quickly diminished as he removed herself from his grasp, reaffirming her statement as she stepped back into the house.

“You should probably leave.”

[tawaifeddiediaz]

you know, after watching day 3 of the democratic national convention, i need to say something, especially to other muslims like me.

most of the muslim communities that i'm a part of have chosen to vote uncommitted, or independent, or sometimes, even trump. they refuse to give their vote to kamala harris and tim walz, because of the way the us has handled the war in gaza, and how they have been careless with acknowledging palestinian lives lost, how it was american bombs and american tax money that went towards funding this genocide. it's fucked up, and it's wrong, and there shouldn't be any debate on that.

and i am 100% in support of that anger. i am 100% in support of forcing america to stop funding this genocide. no one wants to keep seeing palestinian lives suffer. no one is free until we're all free, and i believe that to my very core.

my only concern is that where this anger is being placed, from 1 year to 11 weeks before the presidential election, is so scary. because the reality of the situation is that america has a bipartisan outlook. whoever gets the presidency is either democrat or republican. and every vote that doesn't go towards democracy (i.e. voting for kamala harris) inadvertently goes towards trump's big plan of project 2025, which is basically dictatorship. Even voting uncommitted, even voting independent. we cannot afford to elect trump for a second term, and voting anything other than democrat draws that line way too close, especially in swing states like michigan, pennsylvania, wisconsin, georgia.

yes, there are many issues that we wish joe biden would handle better. there are many ways that the democratic party has fucked up beyond repair. there are many ways the democratic party has refused to acknowledge the pain of people affected by their military people throughout the years, and we've been seeing it for years. this is not a new thing. this did not start on october 7th. we see it during pretty much every administration.

however, voting for your candidate should never be based on a singular issue. no political candidate is ever going to check every single box. and its so unfortunate that we have to always take the "lesser of two evils" approach when nominating our president, but that's the reality of the situation at this very moment. there are many other rights to be considered that are at stake this election, all of which trump is trying to remove. abortion bans, women's rights, healthcare, social security, climate change, to name a few.

(and, somehow, there's a belief that trump will lead to a ceasefire deal where biden-harris didn't? let me tell you that is never going to happen.)

does this mean we just stop protesting or pressuring? absolutely not. you NEVER stop, because if our votes are the ones that put the candidate in their position of power, then we expect results. we expect them to work towards what they promised. and we can't let up on reaching out to our local county offices and our state governors and escalating these issues further until someone takes notice and does something about them. we don't elect them and just leave them to do what they want. we keep them accountable. use that anger i was talking about.

but it also means not having tunnel vision. the election in november could very well mean the end of democracy if kamala harris doesn't win. this post is not me all giggly-happy over the democratic party, because trust me, i have my fair share of issues with them as well. this post isn't to tell you what to do, because i can't force you to vote blue. i can't force the community i'm in to change their minds about toss-up votes. but what i can do is put down plainly what's at stake this election. and that is, very simply, our right to choose everything.

so if you are eligible to vote and haven't registered, please do. if you haven't voted before because "what's the point", please see above what the point is. a handful of votes is enough to flip the outcome of an election, especially with the electoral college.

and if you're still on the fence on whether to vote for kamala or trump, hopefully this post gives a little bit more perspective in the most streamlined way i could manage without bogging you down with statistics and numbers.

the choice is yours.

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Tag, You're It | Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader

Synopsis: Late summer mornings are beautiful and peaceful, but not when you car is a piece of shit. A simple jump will do but, was it smart to flag down the guy in the windowless van?

Warnings: Kidnapping, Dark fic, Oral M!Receiving, Giving Head While Driving (Don't try this at home,) Wicked Banter, Reader is such a smart ass,

Rating: M

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: Requests are officially open! Also this sounded wayyy better in my head - forgive me if this is shit.

Tagging: (If you want to be tagged feel free to let me know!) @babygorewhore @cherryinterlude @rosaleelovesdilfs @prozacwhorehouse @rubyfruitjungle @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @lustskitty69

If you would like to be tagged for my fics, please fill this out

Why did life need to be difficult? Why did it need to throw curveballs you way so outrageous, that it stops your daily routine? That is the one thing that drives you bonkers – having your entire day thrown off. What is the point of it? To make you slow down, take in the sights? To make sure you are never taking a moment for granted. To make sure you’re safe. Yeah, like that is a fucking thing. No, the harsh reality is that life wants to make your day to day so complicated it causes anxiety, dissociation, detachment. It causes you to feel out of line with every timeline, and in return you shut down. At least, that is how it’s feeling now.

It is just another day, but something feels off. It’s too alive outside. The winds are quiet but cool, but there is a thickness to the air. The tingling of sweat cooling on your forearms and face is making everything feel sticky. The whistle coming from God knows what, is driving you up a wall. Everything is too much. Sitting back against the living room couch, you take a deep breath. Today is supposed to be a good day, a great day! You’re supposed to be getting your assignment from your boss – whether you are going to be running the London office all by yourself, or if you are to stay in Pittsburgh. You wanted that escape, needed it in fact. Penn state was bleeding you dry, you needed a change of pace.

All morning you sat by your phone, waiting to see that nine digit life changer pass by your lock screen – signaling that you are worthy of this. Yet, radio silence. You did contemplate calling your boss to see but, would that be too desperate? Would you rethink her decision if it was already made? Does she remember seeing you around the corner when you called you a useless waste of talent? The words still coat your mind, never leaving until you prove it wrong. Today was the day to do that, today you were meant to be seen. With The Butcher’s antics starting up again, you needed to get out of Pennsylvania before you were next. Last October when Cooper Adams was captured, then escaped from police custody you grew cautious. Walking with pepper spray, a taser from Amazon, and a knife always. You adjusted your schedule enough, so you weren’t out past five at night, didn’t dare to leave your doors unlocked or windows open; Suffering in the heat was better than being a statistic. You wanted to live without fear, without the constant thought of what if it’s me next time? You wanted to be unafraid.

Breaking you out of your spiraling thought was the sound of your phone going off, the number you have been waiting for coming across your phone. Vivienne’s number flashed and you felt your heart race, not knowing what could be coming next? What if I just ignore it? Send it to voicemail? Will it show that I am serious or playing hard to get? Will it make her give me the London office sooner? Swallowing down the pride in your throat, you slid your thumb across the call bar – shaking as you heard your bosses angelic voice rain through. “My star investigator – is this a good time?” She sings, sounding a bit jittery on the other end. You nod as if she could see you, sighing out a laugh before speaking. “Sure is.”

“You didn’t get the London office,” she stated bluntly, not giving you a second to speak before maneuvering the conversation. “But, you are going to be staying with me in Pittsburgh! We are taking on the Ladellia case – that’s as exciting as London!” It didn’t hit you immediately but, it was a slow progression forward. First the ache sat within your heart, then your head, leaving your throat for last. You noticed how your TV went from clear to blurry almost instantly. An ache sat at the back of your throat, enough to cause your teeth to ache. You couldn’t control the sob that ripped from your mouth, the tears falling at a quickened pace. “Are you okay, honey?” Vivienne’s sympathetic voice comes through too clear for your liking, as if she was sitting next to you. “I got to go.” You let out without a thought, ending your call and turning your phone off. You stared at your reflection against your phone, noticing the puffiness gaining under your eyes – the glimmer of hope dying with each glance. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you needed to get out of here.

Hyperventilation set in at a rapid pace, causing your body to shake. The speed in which your heart was thumping concerned you, making your eyes waver and head pound. Your blood pressure was skyrocketing to the point where you felt as if you would pass out – everything you worked for, gone in an instant. Without thinking, you jetted off of the couch to the kitchen table, grabbing blindly for your bag and keys – needing an escape from this every-loving nightmare. Without turning around to set your alarm, or put away the dishes on the counter, you pushed yourself out of your home’s front door. The crisp air of late summer kissed your skin – no longer humid like it portrayed earlier. Your car was only a few steps away in your driveway, backed in which meant you could drive right out with no issue. The navy blue of your Mazda glimmered like the night in the late August sun, showcasing the twinkles of blue glitter in the paint. Usually it would bring you ease but, today something felt off. Maybe it was being passed over for the promotion but, it felt like something bigger.

Tossing your bag into the passenger’s seat as you slid into the driver’s side, you felt your hands go up to your steering wheel instinctually – gripping at ten and two. The second your driver’s side door slammed shut, you let out a blood curdling scream, fingers white knuckling the leather wheel. Everything within you shattered; The pain you were experiencing disintegrated with ease. Every octave your voice climbed brought a new wave of anger, rage, and sadness. Why does this always happen to me? Why am I always left out of everything? Every negative message you could possibly muster out was out in full force. You tried to suck in air, but nothing would go, only primal grunts and sobs slipped passed the crack of your lips, eyes full of rage. Though, you felt at peace in a way – knowing that what you needed was a good scream. Nothing mattered anymore, not for you anyway. Come Monday you would quit and disappear somewhere else. Somewhere where you didn’t need to worry about a stupid job or responsibilities, you’d be taken care of. Where that was you didn’t know but, you wouldn’t stop driving until you got there.

Wiping under your nose with the back of your hand, you sniffled softly as you pushed the start button on your car, the key fob sitting in the cup holder. The car rattled as it tried to click over to start, the starter catching on your alternator but never finishing the job. You tried again, and again, and again to get your car to click over – the silence rattled you to the bone. Again, you tried and with that, the car refused to turn over. “Piece of shit!” You screamed aloud, placing your forehead against your steering wheel. Staring at the mat of your floor, you let out a defeated sigh, giving up as your arm dangled. No matter how many times you would try to click your car over, it was toast. Sucking in a deep breath, you closed your eyes for a moment to realign your mood, not wanting to storm out of your car and back into the house. You still wanted to leave but, you would need a jump. You remembered having a set of jumper cables in your emergency trunk pack, now all you would need is the battery source.

Opening the driver’s side door, you caught a glimpse of a white van sitting across the street, the side door opened but seemed to have no one inside. It wasn’t dark enough outside to be pitch black but, enough that you could tell dusk was setting in. Trying not to stare and entice whatever was in the van to come towards you, you looked away as you stepped out, tailing around your car to the trunk. “That clicking doesn’t sound good. You need a jump?” A buttery soft voice called out from your side, from the direction of the van. Slowly you started to spin around and face where the voice was coming from, feeling your pulse quickening as you stared into the darkness. A pair of hands were held up under the streetlights that just came on, face obscured slightly by the brim of a baseball back. “I’m okay, thank you though.” You said matter-of-factly, smiling small as you waved off the stranger. You couldn’t help but find yourself enticed by the mysterious person in the van, their voice like liquid sex. It was husky yet, soft. Raspy yet calming. You wanted to swim in it.

Skirting around the back of your car, you noticed the hatch of your trunk was slightly ajar, leaving you to cock your eyebrow. Grabbing onto the underside of your trunk, you lifted the door up to see that your emergency case was there, in its bright pink glory, yet it looked deflated. Reaching forth you started to unzip the case, noticing your flashlight and tire iron were there perfectly content, but the pink and black cables were gone. What perplexed you the most was that you never used them before and knew when you bought it from Amazon it was in there – to up and walk away was not happening. Your eyes peered forward over the back row of seats, staring intently out your front window. The van was still there with the door opened, hands nowhere to be seen but a darkened figure could be made out. That’s not…no, there isn’t a way it is. He wouldn’t be that stupid to come back here. The lack of sleep was starting to get to you, imaging the worst instead of the best-case scenario. It didn’t mean that man in the van was The Butcher, but the chances were slim to none. Letting out a defeated sigh, you removed yourself from the trunks covering and made your way back to the front of your car. “I’ll take you up on that offer. My cables are not here.” You yelled out enough to be heard. The backdoor did not close but the taillights lit red in the slow darkness of the night. The beeping of the van backing up got closer to you as the driver become more obscured. With the van directly in front of your car, you wrapped you arms around yourself – looking around at your neighbors’ houses. With the free Lady Raven concert down at the stadium, you doubted anyone else was home. “Come grab the cables, I’ll pop the hood.”

Stupidly you made your way over to the van, not putting any caution to the wind with the killer on the loose. Maybe, just maybe you were hoping he took you. Maybe, it’ll help me be set free. Shaking your head of the perverse though, you investigated the dark of the van to still hear it running but, were not met with hands holding jumper cables. Instead, you were met with gloved hands, an obscured face, and thick energy radiating from the opening. Leaning forward to get a better look of this man and grab the cables – you couldn’t have anticipated what would happen next.

Everything happened so quick you didn’t have time to process. Strong hands reach forth to grab you by the front of your shirt, yanking so hard small tears were present on your top. You didn’t even struggle, making your body pliant as he grabbed you. One minute your feet were on the ground, standing in place. The next you were having your back slammed against the cold floor of the van, this man standing over you in the darkness. “Too. Fucking. Easy.” The dark, sadistic tone of the manmade your panties dampen; you never would admit it. Mint and coffee lingered on his breath as he hovered over you, grasping your wrists in his strong hands. “No fight in you? Now where’s the fun in that?” The man pouted as he slammed the door of the van, reaching his hand above himself to turn on the van light. The violent assault of the yellow bulb caused you to squint out of its way, letting your pupils adjust to it before staring ahead. Slowly everything came into view; An orange flyers baseball cap, black sweatshirt and one very handsome face. You thought your eyes were deceiving you for a minute, flashing who you hoped for in front of you – not who you were expecting. In a way you had to know which is why you didn’t put up a fight but – this was just too good. Cooper. Fucking. Adams. Straddling your waist as you laid against the floor, smirking over you the same way he did when he was carted out of his home last year after kidnapping Lady Raven and running rampant on Philadelphia. You were in deep shit.

Due to your ogling of Cooper, he had enough time to bind your wrists together with zip ties, then move himself into the driver’s seat of the van, skirting off of your property before anyone came back from the concert. You were stuck in your position, not even trying to move – not daring to move in case something was to happen. “You know, the whole fun part about this is the struggle. I feel robbed,” Cooper feigned hurt, pouting at you as he turned. Moving yourself up to a seat position, you grabbed with your bound hands against the passenger’s seat, steadying yourself as the van sped off at the green light. “But I’ll be damned if I was going to let you go. You were a hard one to catch, little mouse. Always scurrying away from danger.” He laughed, a twinkle in the ember eyes.

You were too in shock to process that you were kidnapped, by The Butcher, after you lost your job opportunity. It had to be a dream, there was no way in hell this was happening. “Oh, but it is, princess. Better believe it. You’re mine now.” The way he stated it as it was a fact made your thighs clench as you rested your cheek against the chair, watching the town ahead of you turn to bright, pixelated lights. Stating that you were his was not something you would get turned on by, it was fucked to be turned on by him. You didn’t care that you stated it out loud for him to hear, nothing mattered anymore. But he had that early 2000’s heartthrob vibe going on, it was impossible to not be persuaded by him. “So, are we…like enemies to lovers? Is that the trope we are going for?” The way you deal with fearful situations is to joke – this was one of those times.

It may not have seemed like it, but you were shitting bricks internally. Knowing what this man does, who he is and what he is capable of frightened you – as it excited you. It was fucked that you were awestruck by him, a killer. You hated a part of yourself that wanted to see what his hands were capable of. Ever since you saw the police body cam footage of him in his home, shirtless, being tased over three times and pouncing on an officer – you were flustered. “What?” He said with such confusion it made you snap back into reality, forgoing the thought of his body, shirtless, on top of yours. Feeling the heat creep its way along your cheeks, you stared at him – reality finally setting in. His confused look made you realize that this isn’t a simple fantasy you made up in your head, it’s reality.

Anxiety bubbled in your stomach as you sat back on your haunches as he drove, his eyes fixated forward. That feeling of dread sat in your gut like a rock, making you almost physically sick. This wasn’t some story come to life; The Butcher had you – took you away from your home, from your life. His only intention was to see the life drain from your eyes – not be his plaything. Your fingers started to shake around the dull edge of the zip tie, your vision becoming blurry as your head pounded. “This isn’t like you, Cooper!” You screamed as a diversion, thinking if you went all Friday the 13th on him, he would resort to believing you were his mom, or a maternal figure. If it worked in the movies, why not now? What other play did you have? Leave the van? The handle from the inside was removed. Even the interior handle of the passenger’s side door was gone, only his remained and there was no way in hell you were going to make it past him to side out. “You were a good boy!” It was a silent plea, yet no tears or crying came. It was more fight or flight. Though you weren’t making a run for it, you weren’t trying to jet out of the van. Your body and mind were confused, as were you. Trailing up to the stop light, Cooper turns to stare at you, deadpanning with no emotion, a faded smirk on his lips. “That isn’t going to work on me, Lady Raven already tried that last year.”

The way he nonchalantly said that made your body burn hot, causing you to toss yourself into the passenger’s seat. For a serial killer he didn’t have a petition to block the front seat from you – rookie mistake. “Oh, for fucks sake!” You exhaled as you leaned back, huffing with annoyance. You were experiencing the stages of grief, and you had no output on how to handle it. Maybe he wouldn’t end you and chop you to bits like he did everyone else – those were only men, right? Maybe if you went along with him, used your attraction towards him – then maybe you could get off free? It was a dumb thought, pimping yourself out to live but – in a way you were also not complaining. He exuded charisma and daddy energy; you were drunk off of it. Cooper laughed a genuine laugh at your frustration, panning over to roll his eyes in a playful way. “This isn’t the position you want to be in? That is a shame. When I have it my way, I’ll have it be better for you.”

Cooper’s nonchalant attitude was killing you, wanting to do nothing more than just grab him by his face and kiss him. You hated that his perfect face was making you feel this way, it made no sense. “So, what position do you want me in? Face down, ass up?” There you went again with the banter, needing to fill the air with more smart mouthed remarks that were probably going to get you got before you were ready. Talking back wasn’t your strong suit – it isn’t something you did on the daily but, new days – right? If you weren’t going to make it back home, why not have some fun with it? Cooper seemed shocked by what you said, turning his head to face you with a cocked brow – utterly stunned you were so ballsy. To be honest, you felt the same way – you were never this gung ho to talk like this, let alone with your kidnapper. “Is this normal for you? Are you all mouth?” Funnily enough, it wasn’t. This was so out of the normal for you it was mental. You brain was being fried from all angles, you couldn’t tell what was right or left anymore. Something else was taking over, something dark that seemed to have been unlocked when Vivienne called you earlier – something wrong sitting beneath your skin. It was you – the real you, not the plastic naivete you put on for everyone else.

“I’m also tits and ass but, you like my mouth?” You giggle, batting your lashes up at Cooper. Fucking with him was becoming a national treasure for you, seeing both how flustered he got, mixed with annoyed. Something about the tick in his jaw was getting to you, making you squirm in your seat. There was a fifty-fifty chance he would end you now but, it felt like he wanted more. Maybe he didn’t kidnap me for his playbook, maybe he…no, there isn’t a way. Has he been stalking me? Is this…am I? So many questions flooded your head at the realization of what this truly could be. After all being separated from your wife and kids for a year, who want nothing to do with you, can make you a dull boy. Cooper placed a tightened hand against your thigh and squeezed, causing you to grimace a bit. “Stay. Quiet.” You did it, you cracked his armor.

You pulled you lip between your teeth with a silent chuckle, smirking to yourself that you got under his skin. You were right, sexual frustration is a fickle bitch – and you happened to be the best at that game. Pressing your thighs together where his fingers caressed the inner part, you rocked softly against his hand, hoping to whatever God was listening that he wouldn’t pull away. You wanted him to stay right where he is, and let you give him what he needed. Clearing your throat, you saluted him with your bound hands, trying to act serious. “Yes, sir. Or do you like daddy? I feel like you’re into that but won’t admit it.” His grasp got tighter on your leg before pulling it away, causing you to pout. Cooper slammed his hand against the steering wheel with frustration, twitching his nose and lips to try and keep from talking back to you. “Oh, my god. You didn’t seem mouthy when I watched you.”

That was a statement you were not expecting to hear, confused and slightly terrified. “You’ve been watching me?” You ask seriously, feeling your body run hot. That feeling that has been nagging at you for months, was real. Cooper Adams was watching you; That figure you caught outside the bathroom window as you showered, around the living room windows as you cleaned. Hell, outside of your bedroom window and you pleasured yourself – was him all along. Not some ghost or paranoia, it was real – he was real. Cooper froze in place for a moment, contemplating if he wanted to tell the truth or leave it as is. In lieu he chose the latter, opting for silence as he got into the rural part of the state. Pulling over on the side of the dirt farmland, he put the van in park quickly, spinning around to face you at your side.

Reaching between your legs, Cooper roughly maneuvered your calves to get at his bag on the floor, pulling out a piece of cloth, from an old shirt. Grabbing it in his hands, Cooper roughly bound the cloth into a ball, holding it steady as he reached through your hair and to your neck, grabbing at you with precision. “Open up, I’m not dealing with your back talk, or main character dialogue.” The jab made you climb back into yourself, shrinking silently as you wondered if you annoyed him. But it didn’t seem like a jab, no, it seemed more of a control factor. Cooper didn’t – couldn’t handle your smart ass remarks because why? His victims never had the guts too – all they did was beg and plea, and he hated hearing that sometimes. He wanted them to grovel, not whine. “Gagging me, seriously?” You tried your hardest to not sound offended but, alas it came through. You noticed the tick in his under eye, like he was reading you, wondering what your next thought was going to be. He didn’t seem like he wanted to but needed to. It was about keeping him sane; you were making it difficult.

“That mouth will keep running if I don’t. I want peace on this trip, not an ear full from you.” It was a lie, he didn’t want a reason to stuff your mouth full of his cock. You could see it as you glanced down to his lap, the stiffened erection appearing painful in his denim constraints. You cocked your brow with a smirk, biting your bottom lip as you kept yourself in line. Cooper couldn’t tell what you were going to say next but, he knew there would be no coming back from it. Licking your plush lip, you smiled sweetly up to him – holding your wrists out in a silent as of remove these, please? Cooper didn’t blink, didn’t move, only his hands. For they undid the strap of your zip tie with expert precision, making sure to not hurt you. Now free, you could let the fun begin. “I can think of other things to keep my mouth full.” You let out in a sultry whimper, getting closer to Cooper before he could reach.

His ember eyes looked down at your soft, supple lips, licking his own as he raked his nails against the skin of your neck, cupping the side like a lover lost in time. “Drive.” You coaxed out in a raspy tone, wanting to make this memorable for him. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you nodded to Cooper as a way to make him obey. To which he did; His hand retreated from your neck and put the car in drive, moving down the road to the destination without a single word talked back. You leaned over to Cooper and trailed your hot mouth along his clothed arm, hands sitting sweetly on his lower thigh, slowly moving upwards. Each graze of your fingers threw him a curveball, a moan escaping his lips.

You watched intensively Cooper’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, your hand grazing his clothed member through the rough denim. Circling over the hardened flesh you watch how the muscles in his thighs contract sporadically. each little flick of the muscles falling softly against one another; It looked like they were having a party - in which you wanted to join. The faint whimper leaving your mouth to fall into Coop’s ear caused his hands to tighten - white knuckling the steering wheel harder than more. His foot lay flat against the floorboard, yet his foot on the gas was starting to speed up. Nipping lightly at his neck you smirk against his skin, purring softly into his ear; "Sshh, relax...I'll take good care of you."

Moving your hand from his thigh to the ever-growing bulge in his jeans, you bit down a bit harder onto his neck, watching how he eyes falter for a split second. There was a gentle tsk seeping from your mouth, enough to divert his attention back to the road . There was a ball of fear bubbling in your chest, threatening to scream out - but this new, darkened side of you made sure to silence it, licking at the straight jawline of Cooper.

Your fingers work to undo his belt, the clink echoing through the van as you remove his length; cheeks flash hot at the sight of him. He was big, too big for your mouth. Instantly a pool of saliva started to fall into your lower jaw, taking him all in with the minimal light you happened to have. Yet you could see every vein twitch and pull, beckoning you closer - wanting the sopping wet feel of your mouth over the tender, tanned flesh. The swollen, strained head of his cock made your core throb, wondering what it would feel like in your cunt. Maybe if your head game was strong, he could return the favor later on. Groaning at the mental image you created, you knew the real fun was about to begin. Cooper was not a patient man when it came to his large, hardened cock being out. The cold air nipped at the tender flesh - wanting to be enveloped by your mouth.

Leaning forward you press your mouth around his tip, licking softly over the slicked slit of his head, moaning against the reddened skin. The salty taste of his pre-cum caused your eyes to dilate to almost black - seeing nothing but pure passion. Bringing your right-hand up to gently cup his balls - you let your talented tongue slide over just the head, suckling on him gently. What you would give to see the look on Cooper’s face; His slack jaw hanging open, the slants of his eyes showing his lust perfectly. Holy shit, the thought of his hand slamming your head fully down onto his thick length, swallowing around him. The dirty thought caused you to moan against his tip, earning a softened hiss from Cooper’s mouth. You could feel him tossing his head back as you started to bob, eliciting a moan against his cock; "Eyes on the road, be good for me."

Nodding cheekily at your statement Cooper’s eyes focus on the road, while yours focus on his ever-growing cock. With each swipe of your tongue, he seemed to get longer, thicker just in your grasp. You needed to take him now. Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, you slowly started to lower your mouth down, hollowing out your cheeks around him. Each time you sunk down it caused Cooper to grip harder at the wheel, the leather cracking under his touch. It was enough incentive for you to try and take him fully - which you thought you could easily do. As the tip of his thick length brushed against your uvula, you instantly retracted - feeling how the tightening of your throat began - how the gagging commenced. Coop loved it, seeing you wipe yourself out just for his pleasure, it caused him to twitch right against your lip. The salty tang of his head and the mixture of your sweetened spit caused your pussy to throb, fuck you needed him.

Leaning your mouth back down halfway, you created a steady rhythm. Your mouth bobbed with two seconds each pass, your hand working the opposite. With the binaural beats you were creating on Cooper’s cock, his chest heaved erratically. He would not admit this to you, but it had been quite a while since he last got taken care of. Looking down for a split second, Cooper saw how patiently you worked with his length, giving it tender treatment. He loved how your plush lips wrapped around him effortlessly, basking in his musk and taste - giving him the best treatment he could ask for. Though his eyes threatened to watch you, not the road, he did not want to make his girl mad. He wanted to give you the world, to return the deed softly - once you got to his hideout, he was yours for the taking.

The mere thought of it caused his stomach to clench, you could feel it right against your cheek. He was going to cum so soon, and flat-out bricks in your mouth. The thought caused your eyes to widen, your tongue salivating quickly. Working the extra spit your mouth had produced over his member, you felt it start to drip down his length, pooling in the soft tuft of brown hair against the base. It was enough incentive for you to speed up your mouth, your grip getting a bit tighter around the base of his length. Your body worked in tandem with his, with every stroke of your lips and hand, your thighs tightened whilst his vibrated with the sensation. In a 45 zone he was going almost 90, causing the worry to bubble within your chest. Slamming your eyes shut you tried to relax your mouth, slipping down further onto him - feeling how he presses deliciously against the back of your throat. All it took was one little swallow, one little tense up of your throat for Cooper to string out curses.

"B-Baby, fuck...fuck princess!" Cooper yelled, spreading his cum across your tongue. You did not lay off your movements, still going at the same pace while he painted your mouth with his cum. The taste was something you have never taken in before, a sweet tang mixed with salt. It was more than his pre-cum slick could give you, yet no matter how much you moved, the man was never done. Cooper laced his fingers through your hair, balling it into a fist as he moved you languidly up and down. Teasing his balls was something you didn't think would cause him to cum more - but Jesus you were so happy about it. Each gentle roll caused his sack to pull up into himself - spreading more of his delicious seed over your tongue. You could feel his foot release from the gas easily, dropping down to the actual speed limit. Breathless moans cascaded from the opened area above, to the closed quarters below.

With a swift move, Cooper pulled you off of his cock by your hair - not giving you enough time to swallow his seed down. As the van started to slow down even further, you looked Cooper deep within his dark, gorgeous eyes - a sinister smirk playing across your glistening lips. Parting your mouth slightly you have him a first-row seat to the show, peaking your pink tongue through the milky substance. Cooper’s mouth fell completely open in shock, watching how you swallowed it down like it was nothing, moaning at the taste of him sliding down your throat. Small dribbles of his spent ran across your bottom lip, only to be followed up by your thumb, suckling off the excess. Leaning forth you placed a small kiss to Cooper’s cheek as the van stopped at the light. “Was that good, Mr. Butcher, sir?” You teased with a giggle, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

Cooper was dumbfounded, unable to process what had happened and your wording while he was coming down from his high. His now flaccid cock sat against the opening to his jeans, a sheen of sweat crossed his brow bone as his swept back hair was now disheveled. Swallowing down a moan, Cooper ran his long fingers through his hair, pushing it back out of his face. Turning his head against the head rest, he smirked with glee – chuckling as he breathed out. “Oh, I am going to have fun with you.”

[plasticfangtastic]

Dairy Girl-- Part 2

A Homelander x F! Reader fanfic

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to post this and hope the lenght is enough of an apology, yeah this is gonna be liek 4 parts i got too engrossed btw. hope yall like it here's the previous chapter:

Synopsis: In order to provide a constant supply of fresh breastmilk for Vought’s number one hero, Vought has had to get quite nifty in order to prevent this secret desire out the press and the public– you have unfortunately discovered the truth.

Tags: Stockholm Syndrome, abusive dynamic, Homelander being Homelander, dub-con, dark, mild smut, breastfeeding kink, kidnapping, child-death mention tw, cheating tw, set in s4 but canon nothing, slow burn.

word count: 3.4K

Part 2– Calf

As he’d mentioned before the house was an escape proof cage– every window had its hinges super glued or welded shut, glass panels thick enough to prevent shattering but thin enough to allow sound in. That night as he’d left you for the first time you kept your composure, perturbed more by the earlier events that nothing had time to sink in, you venture across the 3 bedroom home, each room old taken straight out from a vintage furniture catalog, the master bedroom smelled just like your grandmother’s, the bathroom walls covered in tacky pink tiles that you told yourself will never get used to.

By the time you explored the whole building you understood the following: The size felt deceiving, without a way to see the outside this building could’ve been 35 floors high and you wouldn’t know, the east-wing of the building at the opposite direction where you’d emerged was cut off from you by a thick metal door, an eye-scan request made its unpickable lock, looking at how it cut on the hardwood floors you’d guess this is where in the kitchen and perhaps the garage and entry hall could be found, this overall felt like an architectural nightmare, the only other oddity of this was the piles and piles of bottled water– Vought branded water… you much rather drink Dasani than this crap… It was by far the worst one in the supermarket.

There were indeed no phones or even ethernet ports on the wall, the TV was bolted in its place and so was the VHS player (and all the furniture too), there were at least 350 titles on the walls (something you bothered to count on day 5), an extremely old vinyl player your only other company... whoever had supposedly lived here was a big fan of Cab Calloway, ABBA and Bruce Springsteen, here you and Bruce could become intimate friends it seems after all you had all his vinyls, alongside an expansive jazz assortment, nothing in this selection went past 1989.

You also learned a very useful fact on day 3 you stared at one of the 18 cameras that you’d found.

“I really want some Mcnuggets! Like just a 12-pack and a large Sprite! Maybe an Oreo Mcflurry too!” You yelled into the camera waving your arms as if the circular lense would reply somehow.

Barely few minutes later the air was filled with the roaring sounds of a bike burning tires seemed the forbidden end faced some road which made you giddy, about 50 minutes later a small door at the door itself opened smoothly where the first strange hand you’ve seen in the last 3 days popped-out leaving a bag with a familiar logo… it wasn’t maccas tho, it was Vought-a-burger which was okay but that wasn’t the point, you picked your meal and your oversize ice-cream and drink and begun connecting lines– Your prison was in Pennsylvania, based on the area code on the phone number on that old pizza box, located close enough from both a pizza chain and on a 15 to 20 minutes drive from a Vought-a-Burger, the library held no maps for you to try to find your location but give or take about an hour or two by foot from any civilization… Yet as you drank the mostly melted caramel churro sundae you smiled thinking of how to steal a bike.

That Night you picked two tapes from the wall not caring one bit about what you were going to see, you stared at the camera.

“Hey can one of you check like an underrated 80s movie list from IMDb ‘cuz I seen a few of these already… at least bring me something new!” 

As always no response was ever given, you dragged your feet towards that ornate bedroom of yours, pink walls, flowery quits, a matching chaise lounge, a hardwood coffee table bolted to the ground and your private TV and VHS player, it took you an hour to remember how to use these thing that second day here. You put on a movie, curling in your bed in the dark, smelling the sweet flowery smell of fabric softener, this didn’t smell like home, pillows too soft, mattress too soft everything here was made to bring you comfort but it was making you feel like a squatter.

The cold light of the screen enveloped every surface and you slowly faded away as ‘Lady in White’ began to wrap up, eyes glued to the screen so firmly you screamed when the faint red light peeked from the corner, clutching the quilt across your body as the red faded away and all you saw was a vaguely illuminated shape.

Blurry colors with no clean shapes, standing facelessly enough blue to let you see it was humanoid, Homelander creeped closer, his body blocking the light and like a shadow he devours everything, he turned around to pause the player, draping his gloves on the dumb box as he turned around once more, your heart caught in your throat, each breath quick and sharp as he took another step closer, hushing softly and he’s there swallowing you whole he kneeled into the bed the mattress squeaked and chimed sinking under his weight pulling you in, only the faint outline of gold eagles and soft blonde locks told you with absolute certainty that he was here… that 3 days ago you indeed met The Homelander, far from the pretty blue-eyed hunk from the movies more ghoul.

You swallowed as his head rested on the pillow next to your hips, his nose burying in the cushioned pillowcase.

“I was busy with work” He mumbles softly, staring at you with the same playfulness of a guilty pet owner who’d ran out of their cat's churu treats– "I promise to visit, I got you something… left it downstairs for you.” 

He stared at your white knuckled hands and without uttering a word you understood his demands, fingers moved by psychic force alone, you welcomed him into your lap as you came undone, burying your digits into his hair, soft like cotton, so smooth you dreamt of cat’s bellies as you scratched him, he took the remote from under you lifting you with so much ease your brain struggled to compute it at first, the movie played and all he wanted was petting.

“Security told me you’ve been good… nothing crazy… am glad, "he said with a tired tone.

“What good would that do me…?” You replied with your eyes focused on the screen.

If you wanted to survive I had to get on his good side, no? you though

“I like it when you people understand your place” He chuckles softly.

‘You people’? You could easily discern the meaning behind his words by tone alone, your finger stopped suddenly, his eyes flaring up immediately.

“I think this would be more productive if you told me exactly what’s going on… I won’t try to run or scream… am just confused and scared…” you spoke bluntly as his gaze met yours in the dark.

“This is my private speakeasy and you’re the bartender… tap too… is hard being on top… and I want some relief… and a sanctum–

“To express your socially unacceptable inclinations/interests? Fair enough I can imagine the press would eat you alive if they found out you liked breastmilk.”

“You’re cute and smart too.” He pushed himself into your stomach, your body sinking to the shape he wanted, holding you tight– I’ll be a good owner and let you asks me absolutely anything you want”

“Why me?”

“Dunno.” His lips tightened into a flat line– the doctors picked you, I asked for a good provider… but all the women downstairs and you did have one thing in common” He sounded awkward as he spoke listening to your increasing heartbeat– you kept producing… I asked to have easy access to my treat but somebody downstairs came out with all of this” his hand lazily gestures around– bit extra I know.”

How simple, he didn’t even care about this to begin with, glaring at him gave you no answers or comfort.

“My family…?”

“They think you killed yourself, I've been told… your ex-hubby been on twitter acting holier than the virgin mary, absolutely devastated for likes” You bit your lips, face scrunching up ready to shout and cry– everybody suspects he murdered you even the cops”

“I'm going to kill him!!” Your tears flowed regardless – god fucking dammit!”

Your whole body rejected the news, twisting your stomach and filling you with needles

“How would you do it?”

“Bash his head in with a hammer…?? I don’t know but fuck him! I wasted 5 years of my life with that bastard!” You cried.

Homelander buried his face into your stomach, hiding the smile on his face. as you cursed outloud for a little bit, he paid no attention to your words.

“Sorry…” You cleaned your tears trying to stop this embarrassing display, the mere thought of him acting like he cared made you sick when he wouldn’t even come to his own son’s funeral– are you gonna hurt me?” you cleaned your nose against the pillow.

He moved so quickly before you knew it he’s face to face and even in this dark room only lit by rolling credits he appeared serene as a painting… It makes your blood run cold.

“Why would I hurt my comforter?”

That night he only slept for a couple hours, never moving from your stomach, holding you regardless, he snored softly, mumbling half-spoken words, lips twitching and brows furrowing, you petted him gently watching his hardened frown melt.

Some days he’d come once, others he’d come five times and then there were the days were you didn’t see him at all, leaving you awkwardly aware about how odd these exchanges felt… for it never felt truly sexual, your fears of molestation and ‘real’ assault dissuaded as you accepted that all this man was doing was come here to whine and bitch about work and suck on your titty– like right now, Homelander has been shouting, talkign so much shit about his coworkers you started to wonder if it was made up for nobody could certainly be that allegedly incompetent, about how stressful it was to do 20 plus media interviews all day, about hoq\w his latest film “Justice Serve” was a fucking nightmare already despite being only half-way thru pre-production.

“Do you even know what it's like to deal with idiots who think they’re better than you because they have an award!?” He put your nipple back in his mouth with a frown– who does Villeneuve think he is” He mumbled into your skin.

Yet he didn’t only bring petty grievances and thirsty lips– he showered you with gifts, perfumes you couldn’t pronounce filled with soft fragrances: sweet but not sugary, warm tones without too much spice. Brought you beauty products to pamper you… to watch you play with from the many cameras in the house, and dressed you like a doll in clothes you honestly wouldn't have bought in the first place, too flowery and tradwifey.

You did so with a fake smile, you’d be pretty for him if you must, keep your tongue in-check and swallow the ever increasing knot in your throat for he at least wasn’t loud towards you, he didn’t yell, he didn’t make scenes… you were just living like his newest pet.

His miniature cow standing in the living room instead of the evergreen pastures outside, VHS tapes and steel food trays made your fence.

You keep busy cleaning this house making stories of who had lived there, Bruce the only one who spoke to you.

Analysing the house inch by inch, there had to have been a spot they’ve missed you kept thinking, you figured that somehow they monitored your sleep cycle, only entering to remove dirty clothes and trash in the death of night, they knew if you were obviously awake, on day 14 you stayed up till around 5 am and not a peep was heard accross the house but as you woke past noon all your trash had been cleaned up, on day 16 you stayed awake all day felt sick passed out and same thing, you would find a way out, you would force them to take you out, all the furniture was glued in its post but if you had to cause a fire you fucking would… as you stared at your clean bedsheets you figure you could force them to come in and drag you outside but as you postulated the possibility of a faux-suicide attempt Homelander’s face flashed accross closed eyes– dare dissapointing him and lose all the goodwill you’d been building, trust, even presents more extravagant than anything your ex ever did.

Had he not kidnapped you, hold you against your will in an underground bunker, used you as a milk fountain and terrified the fuck out of you with his invisible steps in the middle of the night you would had found him charming… endearing even… at least he was still handsome… frightening but handsome.

Day 18-19-20 were the worse so far, days went by and your isolation only grew he had not come by, your meals delivered so quietly you missed them and found them cold, birds either too loud or gone but Homelander never came, every hour the anxiety only grew as you found your throat aching to speak with somebody other than a non-present 80s musician.

You made a stack of the movies you’ve seen yelling to the camera demanding more to watch, abandoning the cause to focus on the obscene collection of Danielle Steel books in the library… at least 30 books, at least it was a distraction as you woke up for the third day in a row without hearing from Homelander. 

You talked to yourself, prettier views didn’t make up for human interaction, you had isolated yourselves before… you didn’t eat, shower, answer calls, simply left yourself to rot in your bed, sinking deeper and deeper into your mattress, the calm heartbeat of the machine keeping you alive until the phone battery died, now here you were curling in the couch feeling that endless void inside you screaming back at you, nothing to distract you from it any longer.

How ironic that those days locked in the basement had been the firsts since the funeral that you’d hadn’t thought about it.

Now every sleep came with dreams of distant cries, empty halls that cooed back, and a sense of urgency as time slipped from underneath you, nothing here smelled like him, yet in your sleep you held your pillow as you once held him, swearing it smelled like him, in the silence the singing birds sound like babies, but there’s nothing but creaking floorboards, old pipes and foreign ghosts in this place.

In this endless silence your mind told you this was limbo, jazz solos disguised the pandemonium of a silent afterlife, but as your heart anguished once again you buried yourself in paltry distractions, reading out loud as to keep your vocal chords warm and delude yourself that there was some company in here, mostly to hide the nonexistent crying.

It took you by surprise when half way thru ‘The Ghost’ you heard the buzzing of the steel door, your ears perked up stretching your neck before falling into the floor, shaky knees picked you up once more with a brave kick, quick steeping into the living room– Homelander stood staring at the messy pile talking to the camera to have this sorted and for the first time since you’d been here you sawn another human, who answered his call almost immediately, a man in kevlar rushed in his gun bouncing on his back alongside a young man dragging an ikea bag.

“Homelander!” Your voice was hoarse but he still turned to smile at you.

“We got you some new movies Ms. L/N” The young man spoke dropping the bag with a heavy thud.

“Watch it!” Homelander growled and you saw a slight stain dribble down his pants– just go wait in the library kitten while these ones sort this out for you.” 

Your feet moved anyways, too excited by the presence of new faces, had he not cleared his throat you would’ve said anything just to make sure this wasn’t a dream, you looked away and that big steel door was wide open, an armed guard by the exit tho… it was an office, painted white with cool fluorescent lights. 

Run, the voices scream.

Run.

For fucks sake run!!\

but...

You stay still.

It’s a test. Run and die, run and he’d snap your spine in thirds before you understand what happened your brain would be separated from your cranium no doubt, you swallow and take a step back, slow heavy agonizing steps lead you to the library.

Homelander’s gaze softens as he watches you sit by the unlit fireplace, he follows you soon after leaving the staff to work behind, you lift your head with a stiff neck, your tongue swollen inside your mouth, he smiles gently dropping to your level, carrying a small box.

The pretty bow doesn’t catch your attention in the least.

Not that dashing smile and ever so blue eyes either.

He tickles your nose without touching.

Chamomile and oat, a pale scent, subtle and clean…

As he scoot closer to you urging you to take the meaningless box held by nude hands, he pets your chin, leaving you to catch nutty tones… his hands smell of almond oil and cream.

He’s talking as he guides your hand into opening the present but you aren’t hearing a single word spoken… all you care about is his aroma…it invides you carving an aching hollow chest, making you dizzy and the world is squeezing your whole body with a thousands of pounds of violent force but you’re still held in one piece, wrapping your neck with the necklace he’d got you, touching every exposed inch leaving traces of sweet almond on you, resting his chin on your stiff shoulder so close whispering sweet nothings to you… hair smells so creamy… milky coconut, it makes you ill– You could name every brand he wore if asked.

“You like it?” He asks into your neck.

‘Like’ what? You guessed he meant the necklace.

“Where have you been?” You asked, wanting to think of anything but that bitter scent.

He pushes you down into the carpet, your hair drapes everywhere so he moves it to give himself no chance to pull it, you can’t even argue but your surprise and discomfort still paints your face, before you can say anything he drops his head on your stomach, nuzzling your dress and pulling your hand towards his head.

“I don’t want to talk about it” his muffle words sound angry, he whined into your stomach a quiet order demanding affection.

Obeying orders before he could whined even more for now you wanted silence again.

Staying like this for as long as he needed, leaving you to speculate what brought him such distress that caused him to abandon you as a result, a part of you stared in awe as you realized you how long this man could stay still without making a sound for.

How long did you lay there in a shared repose that your eyes shut? you wondered as the orange glow of afternoon sun warmed your cheeks, his hand cleaned a falling tear off your face as you woke up with a headache.

“Had a nightmare?”

Your hand unconsciously pulled him close to you, burying his face under your chin he’d awkwardly smiled as he adjusted to your demands, talking to you but it was white noise, your kept him still bridging an arm across his neck locking him in position, your other hand buried in blond, closing your eyes as you got high on shampoo.

In your mind much like your dream you hold him so close, he was plump and giddy, his hair more than a thin tuff, you laughed with him, as you dried his back, you swore to never love the scent of coconut, you held back your pain as you held him with all your might.

“I don’t want to talk about it…”

[puck-luck]

moving along | john marino

warnings: established relationship, general complaints about Jersey, minor brat!reader but it’s not part of the sex, untraditional sex in the sense that they do not have furniture, unprotected p in v, sex as means of resolving an argument i guess?, fingering (fem!receiving) (sometimes i wonder if i need to clarify that because i personally am not into fingering my man’s ass and i doubt it’ll ever make its way into my writing), reference to oral (m!receiving), eating come (so true) pairing: John Marino x fem!reader request: “Could I request John Marino smut where after he’s traded to the Devils from Pittsburgh his girl is upset about the move but when they get to New Jersey he decides the best way to handle the move is for them to christen the new apartment to make it feel like home?  Like literally no furniture has arrived yet and they’re already going at it.” wc: 2570

Pitt had been your home since John first signed his contract with the Penguins in the summer of 2019. You’d moved there with him because he asked, you two had curated a shared apartment space that you loved and considered your first real home as an adult. You were happy in Pittsburgh and John was happy with the Penguins. You hadn’t really known about the trade until it came, just ten days shy of the three year anniversary of Pitt becoming your home base, your foundation.

You knew that the NHL was a fickle business when John first joined. Injuries were abundant, trades happened more often than you thought they would, and at weird times. Hell, people lost their teeth all the time in hockey. It was a weird sport, but for three years you and John had made a place for yourself in Pitt. 

John had just signed a six year contract extension with the Penguins a year and a half ago– so, yeah, you were still in denial about leaving Pittsburgh. It just didn’t make sense and you couldn’t wrap your brain around it.

You had packed up in what seemed like lightning speed, ditched the town that you knew, and now you’re arriving in Jersey. You don’t know anyone or any places except your new apartment complex, your new home. 

You’re cranky because you’ve been in the car for six hours. Not because you hate New Jersey and everyone there for uprooting your life in a mere instant.

Obviously.

John has been a saint about the move and the trade. It’s not his first– since he was originally drafted with the Oilers, he’s been through this process before. The difference, as you’ve reminded him multiple times now, is that he never played with the Oilers. He was picked, but he went to college. Then, he went to Pitt. And Pitt, John, was home. Not New Jersey.

That’s the gist of the same argument you’ve been having with your boyfriend over the past week or so. It’s never escalated because John is patient with you and so great, but you’ve noticed the tick in his jaw when you huff and puff and tense up in his arms. You don’t want to be angry at him, of course you don’t, because you know that it’s not his fault he was traded. It’s just the way the cookie crumbles. However, his presence has been a reminder of the fact that you were so happy in Pennsylvania and you’ve been nothing but bitter about New Jersey.

And now, standing in your empty apartment with a frown on your face, John has reached his limit.

He sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck and one of your hands finds its way to his curls. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” John murmurs into your ear, another kiss adorning your neck.

You scrunch up your nose and side eye him. “Duh,” you reply. John knows that you two have been together long enough that you’d damn near follow him to the ends of the Earth, even if the end of the Earth is in New Jersey. 

Your response causes him to chuckle, kissing you again. He turns you in his arms and smiles down at you. 

You glare, pouting, but John can tell that you’re more upset than angry. It’s been a lot of change over the past few days, and even though you’ve been a little bit of a brat, your behavior has been justified. John’s heart clenches a bit when you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

It’s quite the sight– a sweet, long embrace between partners in their newest home.

At least, it’s sweet until John ruins it.

“I have an idea about how we can make this place feel a little more… homey,” John says. You know the lilt in his voice by heart, having been with him for years. 

Pulling away, you roll your eyes and making sure John sees, knowing exactly where this is headed. You play along anyway. “What’s your idea?”

John grins and whispers conspiratorially, “We need to christen the apartment. It’s not a home until it’s been christened.”

You hold back a laugh, but a smile slips through. “We don’t have a bed yet.”

“We don’t need a bed,” John says. He slides his hands down to your hips and walks forward, only stopping when your back hits the wall and he’s crowded into your space. His head dips down and he mouths over your jawline. “I can fuck you right here, against this wall.”

“Mmm, dreamy,” you quip, your hands smoothing over John’s shoulders. You tilt your head back so he has more access to your neck and he rewards you by sucking a hickey near your pulse point. “You really know how to woo a girl, Johnny.”

John’s hips press against yours and you can already feel him stirring in his pants, growing harder as he continues to suck bruises along your skin. His hands have found your waist and hold onto you desperately. His lips make their way to yours and you share a brief kiss before he pulls away. “Just want to make my girl feel better,” he says, blinking innocently at you with his beautiful brown eyes.

Oh, how you fall for those eyes over and over again.

You draw out a sigh, looking around the apartment. One of your hands returns to John’s curls and pets through them, making him wait for your response. John, patient as always, waits for your response with an attentive smile and a tiny tilt of his head. His eyes rake over your face, taking in all of the details. His thumb comes up to your chin, tilting your head up. He leans in for a kiss.

You offer your lips up willingly, letting him control the pace. When he pulls away, you relent. “I guess we can christen the apartment,” you faux-complain, like it’s a job to keep up with John and his libido. 

John growls, teeth finding your bottom lip. “Let’s see if I can convince you to be a little more enthusiastic,” he teases, sneaking his hands up your shirt and lifting it over your head. He tosses the fabric behind him. Out of sight, out of mind. 

You hadn’t worn a bra today, since all you had done was sit in the car all day, and John reaps the benefits of that fact almost immediately.

He latches onto your chest, licking over one of your nipples and pinching the other. You pull on his hair, arching your back away from the wall. Your mouth opens in a silent moan as you puff out your chest, chasing the sensation of his tongue swirling against the peak of your nipple. He switches sides, looking up at you with hooded eyes.

“Johnny,” you say, and he smiles against your skin. You bring him back up to your lips, groaning when his tongue finds its way into your mouth and makes contact with your own. 

He runs his fingers all over your body, cupping your breasts and tracing your sides. He takes a handful of your ass and squeezes, making you jump against him. His length is fully hard now, still pressing into your hips, and he breathes out a moan when you roll your hips, grinding against him. 

You tug at his t-shirt, a wrinkly old stained thing from college, and he pulls away from you just long enough to get the offending clothing over his head before reconnecting your lips.

Now, your hands are the ones roaming his body, mapping his details through feel alone. He’s always been lean, but his skin is warm against yours and he’s defined in all the right places. He’s also soft and solid and he moves with your hands, making sure you’re always touching him in some way. You place the flat of your palm against his stomach, and the other against his chest, and you can feel John’s heart beating underneath your touch.

John sinks to one knee, pulling your shorts down and kissing over your stomach as he does. He removes your shorts and your panties, leaving you bare against the wall. He holds you steady, completely unnecessarily but sweet nonetheless, helping you step out of the clothing. He kisses his way back up your body.

Pecking your lips, he runs a finger through your folds. “So wet,” he mumbles into your mouth, pride filling his tone. He brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean, then traces his tongue over yours. You can just barely taste yourself and it makes your knees a little weak. 

You lean into him, pulling him close. John works his finger back into you, pumping it slowly into and out of your entrance. It’s barely enough contact, barely fulfillment, and it isn’t long until you beg John to add another finger.

You’re scrambling, holding his bicep with a vice grip as he hikes your leg up onto his hip to give himself more access. You’re fucking against his hand, chasing the feeling of the orgasm that’s just out of reach, and it makes your eyelids flutter shut.

You moan aloud when John crooks his fingers and traces the spongy spot inside of you, teasing it. When you open your eyes, you find his trained on your face, lips parted and eyes wide. He never gets tired of seeing you like this, seeing you come apart on his hand.

“Please,” you breath out, voice cracking. You know you can come anytime, whenever you’re ready, that you don’t need permission, but you need John to give you just a little more.

“Touch your clit for me, baby,” John replies, kissing just under your earlobe.

You reach around and pet over your bundle of nerves, the contact making you clench down on his fingers. John groans at the feeling, sagging against you. You’re trapped between the wall and his warm, solid, strong body. 

“Make yourself come,” John encourages, voice soft. “Wanna see you.”

A wanton whine rips from your throat as your climax overtakes you. You arch into John as much as you can and he brings his mouth to your nipple once again, sucking harshly as the waves of your orgasm overtake you. It elongates it, makes your mind reel with pleasure, and you’re shaking in John’s arms by the time you come down.

He kisses you until you’re on solid ground again, the hand that’s not covered in your come crading your face. The other hand pushes at his shorts until they’re low enough that he can kick them away, then he does the same with his boxers. John grinds against you, his cock twitching against your oversensitive folds, but not breaching your entrance just yet.

He rubs himself against you until you pull away from his kiss and blink up at him, eyes hazy. Both of your hands find his cheeks and you smile at him, a little dopey. He returns the smile, goofy and oh, so pretty before dropping a kiss on your forehead.

“Gonna let me fuck you?” He asks, rolling his hips forward again with a bite to his bottom lip.

You nod, a quiet “please” falling from your lips. Your arms loops around his neck again and John brings his hands to your thighs, lifting you until your legs wrap around his waist.

“I’m gonna fuck you in every room of this apartment,” John promises, lining himself up with your entrance. You sink down on him as much as you can, as soon as his tip pushes into you. “Make you come over and over again, until you love our new home–” He thrusts his hips forward. “Just as much as you love me.”

“Impossible,” you reply. “Love you too much.”

John grins, a hand on your hip and the other bracing himself against the wall. “We’ll see.”

He drills into you, the sound of his hips slapping against yours filling the empty apartment. It seems to echo off the walls, surrounding you. John’s grunts and moans fill your ears, and your whimpers fill his. He bites your neck, then soothes the skin with a pass of his tongue, letting his saliva cool over your throat. It’s almost as satisfying as the weight of his hand would be.

He fills you so well, and he’s pent up, having been waiting to fuck you for hours. His favorite way to satisfy you, to make you content, is to fuck all of the negativity away and make it so your head is full of thoughts about him and the pleasure he’s giving you, nothing more and nothing less. The move was the perfect excuse to fuck you hard and fast and dirty, the way John knows you love.

As evidenced by your walls clenching down around him, the wet slick dripping from your cunt and gathering at the base of his cock. God, if he can get you to come before he does, he’ll have you lick it all off until his come paints the back of your throat.

Just the thought has him fucking you harder, faster. You’re barely able to make any noise because it’s just so good, and John relishes in the feeling of your fingernails digging into his back. Back in its favorite place, one of your hands pulls on his curls, grip so tight that his head has to follow. 

John brings both hands to the globes of your ass, leaning into you so that your back against the wall supports you both. He presses into you, fucking so deep that he swears he can feel the tip of his cock against your cervix with each thrust. 

You cry out, tensing against him as he fucks you through a second orgasm, your legs shaking around him. You’re breathless and despite the overstimulation, you’re still fucking down onto him, rolling your hips to meet every thrust. 

John ditches his other plan on a whim, burying his face in your neck and allowing his hips to stutter, his warm seed shooting off inside of you. You moan aloud at the feeling and John almost buckles, and would have if the wall behind you hadn’t been holding the both of you up. He catches his breath, his thrusts slowing as he continues to fuck his come deep inside of you, feeling the way your walls drag against his shaft. 

“So good,” you sigh as John lowers you to the floor.

He slips out of your warmth with a wince, his cock softening. His mouth waters as he watches the come slide down the inside of your thighs, a milky mixture of both of your releases.

You laugh a little at the feeling, dragging your hand over the skin to stop the flow and licking the liquid off your palm to clean yourself up. 

John groans at the sight. “Fuck, baby, don’t do that,” he complains. “I can’t go again yet.”

“Mmm,” you hum around your fingers, drawing them out of your mouth with a pop that has John wilting. You smile, sickly sweet and teasing. “Just like at home. Nice to see that a change of location doesn’t affect your refractory period.”

[melagnes]

PECSA Weekend: One Bed

Synopsis: You are a teacher at Abbott Elementary and Barb knows Melissa has feelings for you. During PECSA weekend, Barb, being sick of the both of you avoiding your feelings for each other, only booked two hotel rooms, leaving you and Mel to share. It is just your luck that there was only one bed...

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Word Count: 2.8K

It had been a regular day at Abbott Elementary; a lovely blend of chaos, humour, and heartwarming moments. You had gotten to school an hour early that day, which left you with the much-needed time to prep your classroom for your students, and most importantly, brew a cup of coffee.

Upon entering the breakroom, you noticed that you weren't the only one who arrived early–Melissa's gaze turned away from the news on the television and focused on you. "Ey, Good Morning early bird. How's it going?" she greeted.

"It will be much better when I wake up with some caffeine. How about you?" you replied.

"Ah, you know Tesoro, I'm feeling quite good but maybe it's the anticipation of seeing you."

You blushed profusely–Melissa never failed to make you blush. The attraction you had for her was so strong, she was always on your mind. Contrary to your belief, but obvious to every single teacher at Abbott, Melissa felt the same about you. She loved to make you blush every chance she got. However, Mel had no idea you felt the same way about her, so she just playfully flirted with you; she didn't push any further since she didn't want to ruin your existing friendship.

"Mel, you're such a sweetheart. I hate to cut this short, but I need to head back to my class and prepare for my students. I'll catch you later at lunch," you said, as you left the room with the biggest smile and your cheeks still pink and warm.

As the weekend approached, anticipation buzzed through the halls of Abbott Elementary–the excitement for PECSA weekend was immense. The annual Pennsylvania Educational Conference for the Southeast Area was a time for teachers to come together to discuss their teaching, but truly, veteran teachers Barbara and Melissa were looking forward to the Math-a-ritas.

However, this year was different. Barbara knew you and Melissa were both whipped out of your minds for each other, and this predicament was quite frankly getting on her nerves. She knew she needed to intervene since the two of you would not get your heads out of your asses.

In the breakroom, the three of you were sitting in your usual places for lunch; Barb beside Mel, and you next to Mel, naturally.

"Well, is everyone excited for PECSA weekend?" Barb asks, humming in excitement.

"Of course," you state with a smile.

Barbara directed her attention towards you, "Which got me thinking... Maybe you should join us? It would be a shame to miss out on all the fun together."

"Oh, uh, I don't know..." you glance toward Melissa, a hint of uncertainty in your expression.

"I'd love to have you join us, Piccola. It'll be fun," Melissa adds.

"As long as I wouldn't be intruding," you reply hesitantly.

"Oh, trust me, you wouldn't be intruding at all! We'd be thrilled to have you join us. It's gonna be a blast, and the more, the merrier, right?" Barbara reassures you, "Plus, I've got a feeling Melissa would be thrilled to have you there."

As Barbara finished her sentence, Melissa shot her a playful scowl, her cheeks flushing slightly.

You couldn't help but grin at Melissa's reaction, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest at the thought of spending more time with her outside of school. "Well, if Melissa insists, who am I to refuse?" you say with a playful wink.

Melissa rolled her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her true feelings.

Barbara knowingly chuckles at the exchange, pleased with herself for putting the beginning stages of her plan in motion. "Great! It's settled then. PECSA weekend, here we come!"

The weekend has commenced and you found yourself packed and ready to go, excitement bubbling in your chest. When you heard a knock at your front door indicating Melissa's arrival to pick you up, you couldn't shake the nervous anticipation that swirled within you. The prospect of spending the weekend with Melissa was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking.

When you opened the door, your breath caught in your throat, "Hey Mel." It was a reflex; whenever you saw her, her mere presence always left you momentarily speechless.

"Ya ready to hit the road?" she asked, her smile infectious.

"Absolutely, thanks for picking me up," you state gratefully.

After you put your bag in the trunk and crawled into the back seat of the car, your voyage to PECSA commenced. The atmosphere was relaxed as Melissa took the wheel, with Barb in the passenger seat beside her. Without much time at all, the two of them fell into their all too recognizable banter.

Sensing the opportunity, Barbara leaned back in her seat with a glint in her eye. "You know," she began, her voice laced with humour, "I suggest that you all drop your vices and take a hit of my drug of choice — J.E.S.U.S. Street name: Christ" she exclaims.

Melissa raised an eyebrow, feigning offence. "Uh, you've been known to demolish those little bottles of Chardonnay."

"And you snort that liquid marijuana." Barbara countered.

Their teasing sent you into a choke of laughter. Although amusing, their witty remarks settled a familiar ambiance you all appreciated.

As you sank deeper into the back seat, you found yourself stealing glances at Mel in the rearview mirror, unable to resist admiring her effortless beauty. It is unfair that one could look as good as Mel, while simply operating a motor vehicle.

Once you reached the hotel and the car was parked, you and Melissa unloaded the luggage, while Barbara went to the front desk to get your room keys.

When you walk into the hotel, you are met with a concerned-looking Barb, "It seems there's been a mix-up regarding the number of rooms booked, and unfortunately, there are only two rooms available."

In reality, this mix-up was not an accident–it was part of Barb's master plan to push you and Mel beyond the boundary of friendship. "Apologies for the mix-up, everyone. Now, how should we-"

"We can share," Melissa cuts her off while linking arms with you.

You felt your cheeks flush with heat as you exchanged a nervous glance with Melissa. "Yeah, of course."

"Perfect, it's settled then," Barbara handed you the room key and winked knowingly at the two of you before heading off to her room, leaving you and Melissa standing awkwardly in the hallway.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to Melissa with a hesitant smile. "So, I guess we're roommates for the weekend."

Melissa returned your smile, her expression softening. "Yeah, looks like it. Should be interesting."

As your shoulders lightly brushed against each other, you both navigated the hallway, tracing the numbered signs until your room came into view.

As you both stepped into the hotel room, a peculiar realization dawned upon you–there was only one bed. Your heart quickened as your gaze involuntarily shifted towards Melissa.

"So, uh, any preferences on who gets the bed?" you asked, attempting to ease the tension that hung in the air.

Melissa responded with a nonchalant shrug, "Well, there's only one, so I guess we'll have to share. No one wants to sleep on the floor, right?"

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, but you tried to play it cool. "Right, makes sense."

You were doomed.

Melissa broke the silence with a suggestion, "How about we head down to the pool and grab some drinks?"

"I'm in," you replied without hesitation. You knew a drink would be necessary to steady your nerves, especially with the prospect of sharing a bed with the woman you were in love with.

As you descended to the poolside, Barb was already there, greeting you both with a playful smirk adorning her lips. "Well, well, well, look who finally decided to join the party," she teased, raising an eyebrow at the two of you.

After taking a seat beside Barbara, a server approached with a tray of drinks. Melissa swiftly snagged a couple of Math-a-ritas, passing one to you with a wink.

"Here's to PECSA weekend," she declared, raising her glass in a toast.

You clinked your drink against hers, a grin spreading across your face. "To PECSA weekend."

After a couple of drinks in your system, tearing your eyes away from Melissa became an increasingly grueling task. Bathed in the golden hue of the sun, she seemed to exude an otherworldly allure, her features accentuated by the gentle light.

It was as if every glance only served to deepen the spell she unknowingly cast upon you. From the delicate way she brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, to the infectious sound of her laughter, each moment spent in her presence seemed to send you further into the depths of your emotions. Melissa was more than just attractive; she was captivating, a force that left you unable to break free from the mesmerizing hold she had over you.

"Hey, you okay?" Mel asked, shaking you out of your trance with a hint of concern in her voice as she noticed your distant expression. She had caught you staring.

"Yeah, sorry about that," you replied, offering her a sheepish smile. "Just lost in thought for a moment."

Melissa grinned, her eyes laced with amusement. "Must have been some pretty deep thoughts," she teased, giving you a playful nudge.

You chuckled, as you felt a flush of embarrassment creep onto your cheeks. "Just admiring the view," you said, gesturing vaguely to the poolside surroundings.

Her laughter rang out, a melodic sound that filled the air. "Well, I can't say I blame you."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and conversation between the three of you, but eventually, the time came for you and Melissa to retire to your shared room for the evening.

After preparing for bed, you found yourselves lying side by side under the covers, a palpable tension hanging in the air. Despite the deepening connection between you, there was an unspoken understanding that crossing certain boundaries could jeopardize the precious bond you shared.

Something unbeknownst to you, however, beneath Melissa's tough exterior lay a secret longing for intimacy–a desire to break down the barriers between you and bask in the comfort of your embrace.

To your surprise, as you lay there, you felt Melissa's arm snake around your waist. This caused you to immediately tense up, your heart pounding in your ears as conflicting emotions engulfed you. On one hand, you've always wanted this—longed for the closeness and affection that Melissa's touch promised. But on the other hand, her unexpected move left you feeling confused and uncertain.

As Melissa's warmth seeped into your skin, you couldn't help but wonder about the implications of her actions. Was Mel attracted to you? Or was this simply a gesture of platonic affection? The questions floated in your mind, but before you could voice your thoughts, Melissa shifted closer, her breath ghosting over your ear as she whispered softly, "Is this okay?"

Her words send a shiver down your spine, the tenderness in her voice melted away your doubts and fears. With a hesitant nod and a whispered "yes," you surrendered to her embrace, gently placing your hand atop hers, allowing the warmth and intimacy of the moment to envelop you.

As the night wore on, neither of you could sleep, your feelings occupying your minds and you couldn't take it anymore, in a moment of recklessness, you turned towards Mel so your chests were pressed against each other and your eyes locked. Your breath hitched as you lowered your gaze to her lips, savouring the sight of their softness, their allure drawing you in. When your eyes flick back to meet hers, you're met with dilated pupils, a silent invitation that ignited a firestorm of desire within you.

With a trembling hand, you slowly tangled your fingers into her fiery red hair, relishing the silky texture beneath your touch. Your heart pounded in your ears, the anticipation reaching a peak as you guided your mouths together with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

Melissa tensed at the suddenness of your action, and for a split second, you feared you'd made a mistake.

"Mel, I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-" But before you could apologize, she surprised you by pulling you back to her lips with an urgency that matched your own. The kiss was warm and passionate. And as you lost yourself in the intoxicating taste of her lips, you realized that this is where you were always meant to be—wrapped in her arms.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long," Melissa confessed after you broke apart, her voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't help but smile, the weight of her words lifting a burden from your shoulders. "Me too," you admitted, your heart overflowing with emotion.

And as you lay together, wrapped in each other's embrace, you knew that this was just the beginning of a love that would last a lifetime.

The morning light filtered delicately through the curtains, casting a soft glow upon the tangled sheets where you and Melissa lay intertwined. With a contented sigh, you shifted closer to her, savouring the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest against yours. As if stirred by your movement, her eyes fluttered open.

"Good morning," you whispered softly, brushing a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear.

"Morning," Mel murmured, her voice husky with sleep as she tightened her embrace around you.

For a fleeting moment, you lay there basking in the intimacy of the morning, the outside world fading into insignificance.

"I could stay like this forever," Mel confessed softly, her breath warm against your neck.

Your heart fluttered at her words, a blush rising to your cheeks as you pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

"I mean... I wouldn't mind that" you admitted shyly, your lips grazing against her skin. "But we should probably get up soon," you chuckled, the reality of the day's plans creeping back into your consciousness. "Barb will likely be waiting to have breakfast before we head home."

"Yeah, I know," Mel sighed, reluctantly releasing you from her hold.

"But can we stay like this just a little while longer?" she groaned, her voice laden with desire, before drawing you into a kiss that ignited with a slow ecstasy. Your lips traced a path to Mel's neck, planting a series of tender kisses that culminated in a gentle bite, eliciting a whimper from her.

As she trailed kisses down your neck in response, a soft moan escaped your lips prompting her to shift her focus. She captured your mouth with hers, her tongue delving deep into your mouth. Your hand instinctively slid up her back beneath her shirt, caressing and exploring the warmth of her skin. It took every ounce of willpower to pull away from her at that moment. You stare at her, both of your breaths coming ragged as you met Mel's gaze, both of you wide-eyed and flushed with desire.

"Mel... it's time to go to brunch," you managed, your voice strained with longing. "I can guarantee you, there will be more of this later," you added with a suggestive nod toward the tousled sheets.

"Fine," Melissa huffs, playfully rolling her eyes, but a smile still plastered on her lips.

But before she could get out of bed, you grabbed her arm, "I'm glad this happened you know," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've seriously had my eyes on you since I started working at Abbott. I was losing it seeing you come into work every day looking so good and I had to pretend as if I didn't notice."

"Is that so... well, I'll be sure to give you something to notice next time we're at work," Mel smirks at you and smacks your ass as she untangles herself from you in favour of getting dressed.

Later, at brunch, Barbara's eyes widened in surprise as she took in the scene before her. Her gaze flicked between you and Melissa, her lips curling into a mischievous smile as she noticed the telltale marks scattered across both of your necks.

"Looks like someone had a good night," she teased, her tone laced with amusement.

Confusion gave way to recognition as you noticed the purple bruises scattered across Mel's neck, and her eyes widened as she noticed similar marks on yours.

A silent understanding passed between the two of you as Melissa chuckled softly, leaning in closer to you as she reached for her coffee. "We may have gotten a little carried away," she admits with a wink.

Barbara laughed, shaking her head in amusement. "Well, I'm glad to see you two are finally getting your act together," she says, her tone affectionate. "It's about time."

[cissyenthusiast010155]

hi!! i love your fics!

i was wondering whether i can request melissa x reader with prompt 59, please

melissa doesn’t understand how r can find her body attractive so r proceeds to point out reasons why she loves mel and her body

you can choose the direction from there :)

Take My Word, My Word Is Truth ~Top!Melissa Schemmenti xFem Partner!Switch!Reader

Summary— Melissa and Reader go to a Pennsylvania Education Gala. Melissa asks Reader about a compliment, so Reader shows Melissa exactly what she means… Anon Response— Hey heyyy anon!! Thank you for your kind words. I appreciate them as well as your request! I would love to write this for you!! I went with mainly fluff and a little smut at the end. Hope you Enjoy! ♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#59. “You… find this attractive?”

Warnings: NSFW, light smut, mostly fluff, compliments, flustering, implied insecurity, implied self-worth issues, kissing, teasing, marking, light taunting, top/bottom relations, soft dom/sub implications, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

Melissa walked out of her bedroom and down the stairs, waiting by the door.

“Are you ready, ‘hun?” The redhead called out to you in the kitchen.

“Yea coming!!” You called back.

You popped out of the kitchen, finishing putting on your shoes with a smile. Your jaw nearly dropped at the sight of Melissa. She and you were going to a PA education gala. And Melissa was wearing a long, fitting, dark green dress. You gulped and blushed slightly at the sight of the woman, coming up to her ready to go.

“You look… really good…” you breathed out the compliment.

Melissa looked away and blushed lightly.

She never could take a compliment.

“Oh hush now, we’re going to be late…!” The older woman exclaimed, dramatically dragging you out of the house.

The gala itself was a little boring. The only thing redeeming was the free alcohol and getting to see Melissa all dressed up and sexy. The redhead could feel your gaze on you all night.

Later on, as Melissa and you, arms linked were making your rounds to her colleagues. You eventually reached Barbara, one of Melissa’s closest teacher friends.

“Y/N, it is lovely to finally meet you, my dear!” Barbara exclaimed, taking you into a quick embrace, then pulling an older man into the conversation, “Melissa, Y/N, this is my husband.”

You all exchanged pleasantries, before Barbara began asking about you and Melissa.

“Yes, I am so lucky to be able to call this attractive woman my girlfriend…!” You exclaimed, squeezing Melissa’s arm in emphasis.

Melissas entire face practically went red at your comment, and she was quick to grab another drink to hide her reddened face. She cheekily nipped your side in retaliation, making you squeak.

After you and her had made all the rounds, the two of you sat at your table and shared a moment.

“Hey ‘Hun…?” Melissa spoke.

“Yea?” You chirped, looking at your redhead girlfriend.

“You… find this attractive?” She asked, your comment obviously still sticking out in her mind.

You gasped lightly at Melissa’s sudden vulnerable and insecure tone. It sounded like she was about to cry. You immediately took her hand in yours and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Of course I find you attractive, Baby… You are beautiful.” You comfort the woman.

Melissa then looked over to you with slightly watery eyes.

“You really mean that…?” She said in a cracked, wobbly tone.

Your heart nearly broke at the sight. You knew that Melissa hadn’t ever been loved and cared for properly, but it never ceased to make you distraught at how she wasn’t used to love and care and concern.

You took a deep breath and then got up. Melissa looked at you in question and confusion.

“Come on, Let’s go, Mel…” you hum under your breath.

“I… I don’t understand…” Melissa stammered, as you lead her by the hand out of the gala.

“Baby, we said our rounds to everybody, no one will think twice if we leave. And… there’s something I need to do.” You explain, hooking your arm around Melissa’s and leading her out into the cold night.

The drive home was fairly silent, you kept your right hand reassuringly wrapped around Melissa’s hands while you drove. You got home, and you had Melissa come sit with you on the living room couch. You placed a hand on your back and comforted the woman.

“What… what do you need to do…?” Melissa asked, recalling your comment as you had insisted on leaving the gala.

You turned to Melissa with a smile, then getting up and kneeling in front of the woman’s closed legs. Melissa breath caught in her throat, and she looked at you in question.

“I… w-what…?” She stammered, as you took her hands in her lap and comforted her.

You looked up at the woman with love and care in your gaze.

“It has come to my attention that you need to be reminded why you are so beautiful and attractive… and why you deserve to be showered with love.” You hum, bringing her hands to your lips and beginning to kiss each knuckle, one at a time.

Melissa blushed and turned her head to look away. You immediately stopped all your administrations.

“Nuh uh… look at me, amore…” you purr in insistence.

Melissa’s gaze bashfully turned back to you, her face reddened once more.

“Good girl, thank you, baby…” you hummed in praise, kissing her knuckles one by one once more.

Melissa watched your every move with growing and darkening pupils.

“God your hands are perfect…” you purred, as you began to kiss parts of her palms, “Not only do you use them everyday to help and educate your kids at school, but they’re so sexy…” you husked.

Melissa gulped and her mouth partially opened to speak (most likely to refute your compliments), but a firm cock of an eyebrow from you made Melissa sit in her flustered state and accept the praise.

Your kisses migrated to the redheads wrists and lower arms. You took even more time with each affectionate kiss, suck, and bite, leaving a few marks along the way.

“Your arms… are so strong and gorgeous…” you cooed lovingly, slowly moving from her left arm to her right, “You always hold up the weight of the world on them… But sometimes, it’s better to let people help you carry the weight, amore…”

Your kisses moved to her upper arms, and Melissa in response, instinctually opened her legs wide for you. You smirked and slotted yourself still on your knees, in between her legs, so that you were right up against the couch with your chest. Melissa’s heart and cunt flutter in tandem at your closeness.

Once you were satisfied with the arm kisses, you stood up and gave the woman your hand. She took it in curiosity and stood up.

“Your dress… The way it clings to your curves… the way the green accentuates your hair and eyes…” you hum, running your hands up and down the garment and her figure, “You look stunning, baby…”

Shivers run up and down Melissa’s spine. You then gently helped her out for the dress, letting it pool on the ground, before guiding Melissa to sit back on the couch.

You knelt back in between her legs, then proceeding to take her heels off. You kissed her feet, toe by toe, making sure to make eye contact with Melissa after each little suck, nibble, and kiss.

“Your feet… they’ve taken you so far in life… you’ve accomplished so much…” you purr, “And maybe one day, you’ll step on me with them…”

You said that last bit with a wink before moving on to kiss and suck along her legs and up to her knees, one leg at a time. Melissa nearly choked on her own breath from your words and wink. She hated to admit it, but all your praise was melting her heart. And making her wet…

You kissed and marked her legs up to her thighs, now on your standing knees looking up at Melissa.

“Your legs are precious… Also so strong, like the rest of you… They always look so pretty crushing my head…” you cooe cheekily, smirking at the end.

You spread her legs even further, before leaning down and starting to caress and love on her thighs. Melissas eyes fluttered and her mouth went silently open, as your hot mouthed kisses went towards her inner thighs, closer and closer to her core.

“Your thighs… they’re so thick and marvelous… love how they bounce when you walk… love how they suffocate me…” you husk.

Melissa had gotten the message. Her face was burning red and she was riled up enough. One of her hands snaked into your hair and tried to silently guide you or her core, implying how badly she needed you.

But you waved her off with ease, not done making your point. While one hand held her thighs open, your other snaked around the back of her neck. You looked up to the red head, guiding her to lean down toward you with your hand on her neck. You stared at the woman with unadulterated lust in your eyes and parted lips. Her gaze was now unabashedly meeting yours, filled with lust and joy.

You leaned forward and connected your lips to hers. Your lips intermingled with hers in a light, loving, yet passion filled kiss. But you pulled away much too soon to Melissa’s dismay, leaving her whimpering at the loss of contact.

“Your lips are better than perfection… they’re soft and plump… and so delicious…” you cooed lustfully into the redheads ear, “And your voice… God, I think I could cum from it alone…” you groaned out.

“Enough Cucciolina.” Melissa breathed out, her tone low, sultry, and filled with lust.

Your breath hitched at the pet name, and you bit your lip, awaiting the woman’s next words eagerly. Melissa then guided your head back down to her cunt. She gazed down upon you on your knees, her eyes dark and dominating, now believing in her power thanks to your praise and showing her.

“I keep hearing all this talk about how attractive you find me…” she purred, “That’s all talk… Why don’t ya’ show me, Cucciola…?”

Your eyes widened and you blushed slightly. Her hand then urged you face first into her clothed clit and you happily teased the woman through the thin material. You groaned, quickly taking your hand from her neck and scrambling to remove her panties. Melissa shifted her hips upward, and you quickly removed the lousy excuse for underwear, throwing it aside.

“You’re so beautiful…” you groaned, as you caught sight of the woman’s gleaming, slick pussy, before diving into her cunt and making Melissa’s head loll back with a moan.

~~~

Melissa Schemmenti Masterlist

[lambtotheslaughterr]

Conium Maculatum

A Roman Godfrey Oneshot

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 8.6k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

OONA'S MASTERLIST

request for anon

requests are currently CLOSED

all AI images are created from prompts I wrote. they are not real images.

Summary: Reader has spent her whole life treated like an outsider. All she wants is to live & be treated normally. Unfortunately for her, the only person willing to do just that is Hemlock Grove's notorious rich boy Roman Godfrey.

            You felt him before you saw him. He was always watching you. Always curious. A small part of you was amused by his unwavering interest, but for the most part, you wished he would just leave you alone. Like everyone else did. All you wanted was to be treated normally. Not like an outsider.

            Hemlock Grove University was nestled deep in the woods on the north side of town. You were drawn to the small, sleepy town because of their public administration program. You wanted to major in public policy with a focus in agriculture, hearing from your Aunt Lynda that the town & surrounding forest were rich with potential farm growth. It was your dream to advocate for more natural sources of farming & agriculture that weren’t run by corporate leaders but people of the rural community. Plus, it helped that you already had family in the area.

            Lynda & your cousin, Peter, welcomed you to Hemlock Grove with open arms, allowing you to crash on their couch until you could get your on place to rest your head. Not long after you arrived, Peter moved on, wanting to explore north of Pennsylvania. It was a bittersweet goodbye. You were happy for Peter that he was wanting to venture out on his own but his parting left you with an unsettling feeling.

            “People here are not what they seem.” He had told you. At first, you thought it funny, knowing people often said similar things, if not worse things, about you & the people in your community, but Peter wasn’t joking. He warned you to be wary of others, to not be too trustful, & that if you ever felt unsafe to leave the moment you could. You promised him you would. It wouldn’t be the first time you lived somewhere where the locals treated you poorly, but you had never seen Peter concerned like he was. It unnerved you.

            But that was six months ago. And though you weren’t entirely welcomed by the townspeople of Hemlock Grove, they at least left you alone. That was except for the 6’4”, slender young man that rested against the lockers opposite of yours. You had your back turned to him but could feel him observing you.

            “What do you want, Godfrey?” You questioned without looking over your shoulder at him.

            You heard the disbelieving smile in his face, “How do you always know when I’m near?”

            “You’re not exactly subtle.” You pointed out but were smiling, nonetheless.

            Retrieving your textbooks from your locker, you stuffed them into your bag before shutting your locker & facing the wealthiest boy in town. He eyed you up down, admiring your outfit for the day like he often did. Apparently, you didn’t dress ‘normal’. But you had seen plenty of other women in your life dress the same way. They called it boho, you called it contemporary Roma.

            Roman Godfrey was your stereotypical rich boy. You had met, or rather seen, plenty of them in your travels. Yet he was different in one way. He was always alone. He didn’t have a posse following him around like all the rich boys you had seen before nor did he have a different girlfriend every other week. He was always alone all the time. Like you. You thought once before that may have been why he was keen on trying to get to know you: because you were both loners. But something innate told you that that wasn’t the case. So, you kept him at arm’s length.

            Resting against the lockers on your side of the hallway, you peered at him with a soft smile, “Did you need to ask me something?”

            He always had questions.

            “Yes, I do.” He bit his lip through a smile. He pushed himself off the wall to cross the hallway over to you, uncaring about other students trying to pass through. Your eyes never strayed from his startling blue ones. Once he was near you, he leaned his shoulder against the lockers beside you.

            “How’s Peter?”

            “Doing well, I imagine.” You raised your brows. That isn’t what he really wanted to ask, but Roman had a habit of beating around the bush when it came to you for some reason.

            “Oh, right.” He clicked his tongue against his straight teeth, “You Rumancek’s don’t like phones.”

            “It’s not that we don’t like them.” You revealed, “They’re just not necessary. If we want to talk to someone, we go see them.”

            Roman nodded, likely having heard the same explanation from Peter. It came as a little bit of a surprise to you when you learned that Roman & Peter were friends. Peter had never mentioned his name before he left, but during your first week at the university, Roman wasted no time in making your acquaintance & talking animatedly about Peter & how deeply saddened he was to see him go. The ‘deeply saddened’ part you took with a grain of salt.

            “Which is why, I suppose, you’re standing right here.” You added, narrowing your eyes playfully.

            “If you had a phone number I wouldn’t have to seek you out, would I?” He played, his voice lowering flirtatiously.

            “Something tells me that wouldn’t stop you.”

            Roman pursed his lips in knowing at that, “Guess we’ll never know.”

            Shaking your head, you pushed off from the lockers, “This conversation has been…lovely. But I gotta go.”

            “Let me drive you.” Roman rushed out but tried covering it with a sheepish nonchalant smile.

            “Roman…” If you could keep track of how many times he asked to drive you home on one hand, you’d need at least fifty more fingers.

            “It’s going to rain.” Roman stepped forward, his arm swinging over your shoulders as he led you to the doors that went outside. You looked up at the sky, noting the dark heavy rainclouds rolling in.

            “See? I’m not lying.”

            You glanced up at him, “You drive a car with no top. I’ll get soaked anyway.”

            His eyes twinkled perversely at that but he still carried his charming smile, “Not if I speed.”

            You sighed, staring back out at the sky. It was a long walk back to your caravan in the woods, but you always enjoyed the walk. You never took any roads, rather choosing to walk the two miles or so through the woods. But you did want to get started early on an assignment & the rain would only slow you down.

            Swallowing your usual refusal, you licked your lips in trepidation before looking back up at the regrettably handsome young man.

            “Okay.”

            Roman contained his obvious excitement but still clutched the keys in his hand in a closed fist & raised it momentarily in victory.

            “Just this once, Roman.” You warned him, not wanting him to think that it meant anything more.

            “Whatever you say.” He grinned, all his teeth showing.

            Roman led you outside, his hand on your lower back as he brought you to his hot red two seater. While you knew a car like that was sought after by many, it was only an eyesore to you.

            He opened the passenger side door & held your hand gentlemanly as you slipped in. Roman was touchy. You learned that early on in your association with him, but you never minded. To close friends & family, you were rather affectionate, as were they, so physical touch didn’t make you uncomfortable as it likely would any other person. But you did have slight concern in how far Roman would go in touching you if you continued to not say anything.

            Roman sped-walk around the vehicle to his side before practically jumping in. The small car jostled under his weight as he started the engine.

            “Thank you.” You told him.

            “No,” Roman winked at you as he reversed, “thank you.”

            Roman pulled off onto a dirt wood somewhere in the woods. Your caravanwas only a minute or so walk down the narrow foot path. Lynda helped you in purchasing one & finding a decent clearing in the woods for you to call home. But what you didn’t miss was how Roman knew exactly where to drive to drop you off.

            You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress your smile. What Roman didn’t know was that you knew he would sometimes come out here at night & watch your caravan from somewhere in the woods. As you told him, he wasn’t subtle & you could always sense when he was near. It was worrisome the first couple times it happened. After all, you were a young, single woman living on her own in the middle of the woods, but Roman never made himself known. As far as he know. And he never approached. Only watched. You summed it up to be just his curiosity, & perhaps, if your innate sense was wrong, his longing for another friend like Peter.

            Unlatching your belt, you began to get out of the car when suddenly your door was being opened from the other side. You hadn’t even heard Roman get out of the car, let alone race over to your side. You chuckled surprisingly but said nothing. He offered you his hand yet again as you got out. You accepted.

            “Let me walk you to your door.” He suggested.

            You wanted to refuse, but if there was anything you knew about Roman Godfrey, it was that he was one persistent fellow.

            Saying nothing, you began to lead the way. You noted how Roman limited his naturally wide strides, thanks to his long legs, to keep in step with you. He reminded you of a golden retriever: just happy to be there.

            After a minute of silently walking, save for a distant bird song here & there, you finally came to the clearing where your caravan lied in wait.

            “Wow.” Roman feigned shock at seeing your caravan as if it was the first time, “It’s a nice set-up you got here.”

            “Really?” You felt your brows crease as you stared at him with amusement, “Never been here before, is that it?”

            “No.” Roman laughed awkwardly, trying to hide the truth, “I have no reason to come out here.”

            You nodded at him, making it clear that you didn’t believe him but said nothing. He ultimately dropped the façade, looking at you in disbelief, “How’d you know?”

            “Your cologne.” You pointed at his chest, “It’s pungent. Doesn’t mix well with the natural, earthy smells out here.”

            “Bullfuckingshit.” He retorted but appeared mildly impressed, “What are you, a sniffer dog? How the hell can you smell that out here?”

            You giggled softly, shaking your head, “A gift, I guess.”

            “You got a lot of gifts.” Roman commented, “You always know when I’m near before I’m even there, now you can smell in the middle of the woods.”

            “Mm.” You agreed. Turning your back on him, you were assuming he would know that was your good-bye & allow you to disappear into your little abode but the sound of your name on his tongue proved otherwise.

            “Yes, Roman?”

            “Are you, uh, doing anything tonight?” He asked, blinking rapidly. You watched as he reached into the inside pocket of his gray overcoat, pulling out a pack of smokes.

            “Some schoolwork.” You frowned, watching as he produced a cigarette & placed it between his lips. “Please don’t smoke that.”

            Roman paused, looking confused for a second before realizing you were referring to his cigarette.

            “The smell.” You made a dissatisfied face, “Your cologne I tolerate. That, I won’t. If you don’t mind.”

            Roman removed the cigarette from his mouth, putting it back in its pack, “Sorry.”

            “Don’t be.” You mustered a smile, “Anyway. Goodbye, Roman. Thank you, again.”

            “Wait, about tonight?” He rushed out, taking a step forward. You paused just before your door.

            “I’m studying.” You reminded him, not necessarily needing to hear whatever offer he had in mind next.

            “You won’t have to go far.” He raised his hands, gesturing the trees around him.

            “What is it?”

            He smiled at your polite response, “A party. Here. In the woods. Happens every year. It’s the spring equinox party or whatever they call it. All I know is that it always happens on the full moon.”

            You nodded in knowing, “A Worm Moon, yes.”

            “A what?” He chuckled but was entirely lost on what you had just sun.

            “A Worm Moon. It’s what the full moon in the month of March is called. In spiritual terms, it means growth.”

            “Oh, cool.” Roman smirked before moving on, “I was thinking about going, maybe, ya know, I don’t really mingle with the locals.”

            “You are a local.” You pointed out.

            “You know what I mean.” He dismissed sheepishly, “But I thought it’d be weird going by myself, so…I thought maybe.”

            “I’d go with you.” You finished for him. Roman bared his teeth in hope, “What do you think?”

            “I think you don’t like being told ‘no’.” You responded coolly but kindly.

            “I don’t, yeah.” Roman shook his head but laughed lightly.

            “Hmm.” You nodded in thought. He was being…cute. And you hated admitting that, even if it was only to yourself. Roman had a little crush on you, that much had always been obvious, but he was really trying right now. More so, he was trying to be cool about. Not like ‘rich-guy-I’m-so-cool’ cool but a seemingly innocent ‘if-she-says-no-I-just-might-cry-so-I-gotta-be-cool-about-it’ cool. It was endearing.

            “Please.” His voice faltered, “Say yes.”

            Pursing your lips, you finally nodded once, “Yes, Roman, I will go to the spring equinox with you.”

            Much as he did earlier when you accepted his ride, Roman raised both of his fists in victory. But he quickly tried to hide his knee-jerk response by shaking it off, “Great, cool, great.”

            “You said that already.” You teased.

            “Yeah.” He shrugged but his smile was as wide as it could possibly go, “Okay. Well, guess I’ll see you later then.”

            “Okay.” You couldn’t help but smile back. He really was like a golden retriever.

            Roman kissed both his hands before blowing waving them towards you, “You won’t regret it.”

            You said nothing but waved as he walked away back down the footpath. Once he was out of sight, you sighed heavily, resting your head against the door to your abode. Butterflies flapped their wings wildly within your gut. You squeezed your eyes shut, an undeniable smile ripping across your face.

            So, that’s what that felt like.

            There was no mirror placed anywhere within the small confines of your caravan. So, you could only guess you were dressed enough for a party in the woods. It wasn’t that you seriously cared about how you looked but you still had that desire to just be normal. It would be enough that people at the party would likely whisper about you when they saw you, the least you could do to ease your worries was to keep it tame tonight. Whatever that meant.

            You were about finished with getting ready when you paused in what you were doing. You sniffed the air. Cologne.

            Roman.

            And just as you thought his name, your caravan shook with the rapt knocking of his arrival.

            Releasing a breath of air, you approached your door & swung it open, revealing the tall man on the other side. Even standing on the flat earth outside your caravan & he was still taller than you. It was funny.

            “Wow.” He breathed out, his eyes twinkling as he took you in, “You look…”

            “Normal?”

            Roman’s eyes flashed to yours, “No. Better. You look like a woodland creature.”

            You couldn’t help the bewildered giggle you released, “Whatever that means.”

            Turning away from him, you looked for your jacket to throw on. After all, it was only March & the night would only get chillier. After slipping into the sleeves of it, you turned back around to find Roman leaning on the frame of your doorway to peer inside.

            “It’s a lot bigger in here than it looks.” He observed before meeting your eyes, “Think it’d fit in here, too?”

            His mischievous tone caused you to narrow your eyes playfully at him, “We’ll never know.”

            Exiting your caravan, Roman backed up to give you space but again found your fingers as you took the single step down from the wooden platform below your door. You shut the door & faced him, slowly pulling your fingers from his.

            “I figured we could walk. Since it’s close.” Roman suggested. You nodded in response. A night walk in the woods was one of your favorite past times.

            He led the way through the woods & you found comfort in the silence between the two of you. As the two of you walked, enjoying the sound of cicadas trilling, you felt a warm near your pinkie finger. You glanced down, spotting Roman’s hand as his own pinkie intentionally grazed your own.

            “If you’re going to hold my hand, Roman, then hold it.”

            You watched in the corner of your eyes as he looked down to smile at you. Then you felt his hand hesitantly tangle his fingers with your own. It felt nice. Natural. What made it better was that he was being gentle about it. Roman only continued to surprise you. Though you still had your mild reservations about him, he had yet to truly do anything earn your suspicions. For now, you welcomed the warmth his hand brought to yours.

            After about ten minutes or so is when you began to hear the sounds of a party happening. There was music playing & raucous laughter. You felt as Roman’s hand stiffened in your own. You frowned at the action.

            “Are you okay?” You questioned, peering up at him.

            “Mhmm.” He forced a smile, & it was a closed lipped one which was the biggest give-away that he was lying.

            As you two grew closer to the sounds, Roman slowed down. It was a very subtle change in speed but you still noticed it. You stopped to stand in front of him. But he didn’t look at you, his eyes were cast over your head as he stared at the party nearby. You followed his line of sight, noticing how there were quite a lot of people. They were all drinking, running around, just having fun & enjoying their night.

            But you understood Roman’s hesitation. He was an outsider, too. Those people, locals, didn’t entirely welcome the anomalies of society. Facing back towards Roman, you gently ran your fingers on the underside of his wrist in comfort. It was something your mother always did for you when you had bad dreams as a child.

            “Hey.”

            Roman’s wide stare shifted from the party behind you to your face.

            “We’ll be okay.” You assured him.

            “Yeah, I know.” Roman shrugged, his obvious anxiety suddenly disappearing.

            You smiled up at him, “You don’t have to hide it from me.”

            “Hide what?” Roman feigned ignorance. But when you kept your stable stare on his wavering one, he finally dropped the mask, “Thanks for coming with me.”

            “Of course.” You tugged on his hand, moving him with you towards the party, “Thanks for getting me out of my neck of the woods.”

            Roman smiled innocently at that.

            Approaching the party, Roman & you entered the clearing side by side. Most everyone was too busy in their own doings that they didn’t notice either of you. You bit your lip, relieved for both your sakes.

            Beside you, Roman released a breath of air, also noticing that no one really cared or, if they did, they didn’t make it obvious.

            “See?” You bumped your arm into his, “Totally okay.”

            Roman & you found a few chests near a couple tables that had a plethora of drinks on ice. He pulled out a can of beer for himself before offering you one. You accepted before giving it a taste. It wasn’t often that you drank, you had no real reason to, but tonight was a special occasion. However, you didn’t miss the bitter taste of it.

            Roman noticed the look of disgust you made, trying to hide his amusement. You stared wide-eyed at him, “What?”

            “Nothing. I just sometimes forget how pure you are.”

            “Pure?” You laughed awkwardly. Strange word choice.

            “You know what I mean. You’re not…fucking tarnished by modern day society.”

            “Sure, I am.” You disagreed before peering up at him coyly, “I rode in that eyesore you call a car today.”

            Roman’s mouth hung open in shock, “You did not just say that about my baby?”

            A giggle escaped you at his reaction.

            The night continued on quite like that for some time. You & Roman found a couple spots next to a small bonfire, nursing your second & third beers. You watched as the people around you laughed, loved, & lived, happy to just be there to witness it. In the midst of people watching, Roman had at some point placed his hand on your thigh, his fingers long enough to wrap around to the inside of it. It surprised you at first, worried he was going to try to move it close to your private area, but he kept it right where he put it & never moved it. Not even an inch. So, you forgot about it soon enough.

            And then, whether it was the alcohol or just your natural desire to be physically affectionate, you rested your head on Roman’s shoulder. You felt as he inhaled deeply at that, & it made you hide your smile behind your can of beer. The moment was comforting, peaceful, & most importantly, real. It wasn’t forced on your part or an attempt to touch you inappropriately on Roman’s part. It was a genuine connection you were forming with him.

            But the moment was ruined, disastrously so.

            “Look, man.” A voice snickered opposite the fire from where you two sat, “Those two freaks came here together.

            It would have been too good to be true really believing you & Roman could attend a normal social event without being pointed out. You felt as Roman stiffened beside you, having heard the jab as well.

            You raised your head, finding the two guys who were shamelessly looking at the two of you as they laughed to each other. You sighed but didn’t let it bother you. It was nothing new. Roman, on the other hand, was clearly more effected by it than you were.

            “Bet they have some of the freakiest sex you can think of.” The other one sneered.

            Oh, boy.

            Before you could restrain Roman, he shot upwards, his height assisting him as he stared challengingly at the two guys across from you.

            “Roman.” You said his name firmly but he wasn’t listening.

            The two noticed his stance & laughed at him more, one of them hollering, “Oh, what are you gonna do, mama’s boy?”

            “I can bury you alive if you’d like, you stupid fucks.” Roman spit.

            You rose then, your hands gripping one of his wrists to try & calm him down. But the two only spurred him on.

            “Yeah? You & that witch there gonna cast a spell on us?” They both feigned fear, “Please, no, don’t. Our mom’s will actually miss us.”

            “Roman.” You tried to get in front of him, in his line of sight despite him being much taller than you.

            “Fuck you, man.” Roman snarled.

            “Nah, thanks, we’re good.” They laughed childishly.

            “Can you guys just shut up?” You finally snapped, spinning around to face them. They stared at you wide-eyed, in mild shock & amusement at your reaction.

            “She talks!” One slapped the other.

            You rolled your eyes, turning back to face Roman, “Ignore them. They’re just being assholes.”

            “Hey, Godfrey. If she talks then you probably no what she sounds like in bed, huh? Does she chant before she cums?”

            Before you could realize what was happening, Roman knocked you to the side, launching himself over the bonfire, before he latched one of his hands onto the throat of the kid who made the perverse comment.

            “Hey, man, let him go!” The other yelled, trying to rip Roman off his friend.

            You crawled back onto your feet, racing over to the rapidly growing violent interaction.

            Roman had the kid pressed against one of the trees, his thumb digging into the larynx of his throat to keep him from breathing. The kid tried shoving Roman off, but it was clear that he was no match for the gentle giant.

            “Roman!” You yelled, but he wasn’t hearing you.

            He had his deadly sights set solely on the kid before him, “You owe her an apology.”

            The kid struggled in his grasp, desperately opening his mouth to try & get oxygen but he would receive none as long as Roman had him in the death grip.

            “We’re sorry! Fucking let go! You’re killing him!”

            Everyone at the party at that point was focused entirely on Roman & the immature child on the other end of his end.

            “Roman.” You placed your hand on the hand that was holding the kid by the throat.

            It was only then that Roman’s eyes finally fell to yours.

            “That’s enough.” You told him, shaking your head, “Let him go.”

            He frowned at you, his eyes a mixture between rage & hurt.

            “Please.”

            At your plead, Roman finally softened, his hold on the kid loosening. The kid dropped to his butt, choking as air filled his lungs. You gently pushed Roman away from the area, needing to get him as far away as possible.

            “You fucking freaks!” A voice yelled behind the two of you.

            You ignored the slowly gathering voices of anger & name-calling as you led Roman back into the safety of the woods. Once you were a far enough distance, you paused to let Roman lean against a tree. He was staring wide-eyed at the ground, as if he was in a trance. You released a breath of air you hadn’t realized you had been holding as you watched him in concern. But it wasn’t of any concern for him.

            “I’m sorry.” He finally breathed out, his voice soft, “I’m sorry, _____.”

            You stood there with your arms crossed over your chest, staring at indignantly.

            When he finally looked at you, & took in your hostile stance, he moved towards you with his hands outstretched, but you took a step back from him, shaking your head, “Don’t touch me.”

            He blinked rapidly, a forlorn frown crossing his features, “I said I’m sorry.”

            But you only continued shaking your head, “I knew to be wary of you.”

            Roman huffed, biting his lip in frustration, “Why? Because I defended you?”

            “Defending me would’ve been ignoring them & walking away from it. Not nearly killing him.” You kept your voice firm, never having been someone to yell.

            Roman rolled his eyes but continued staring at you solemnly, “They were degrading you. I couldn’t not say anything.”

            “There’s so much anger in you.” You commented saddeningly, “I could always see it but I never knew how deeply rooted it was in you. Now, I’ve seen it firsthand.”

            He licked his lips, that anger you had seen back there returning to his eyes, “So, what? That’s it? I’m not good enough for you anymore.”

            “That’s never what this was about.” You whispered, “The only person you’re not good enough for…is you.”

            Roman softened at that, but his eyes watered. Your words were hurting him, that much you knew, but he needed to hear them. You cared about him enough to tell him the truth. You imagined there weren’t a lot of people in his life who were honest with him.

            “The fuck does that mean?” He questioned, staring at you with his jaw jutted out as he tried to keep himself from losing it again.

            “No one will ever accept you.” You told him, “Not them anyway.” You nodded back towards the party, “But I do, or did. But you want more than that. You want everyone to accept you.”

            “What’s so fuckin’ wrong with that?” He spit harshly.

            “Nothing.” You admitted, “But how do you expect them to accept you if you don’t accept yourself?”

            You could tell that what you were saying was being absorbed by him. And it hurt your heart to see him hurting. But it was the truth. He needed to accept himself.

            “I’m going home.” You told him, “Don’t follow me. Don’t hang around outside anymore. I need my space.”

            “What?” He asked, his emotions highly charged, “You’re cutting me out?”

            “For now.” You frowned at him, “And when I’m ready, if I’m ready, I will come to you.”

            You could tell he wanted to say more but you turned your back on him. Tugging your jacket closer around your middle, you found your way in the darkness. You felt saddened that Roman couldn’t walk your path with you, but he needed to learn to walk his own.

            It had been a week since you last saw Roman. And, to your surprise, he kept to your rules. You never sensed him around while at school, never smelled his cologne when at home. He was giving your space as you asked for. Part of you missed him, missed his always lingering presence & mischievous remarks, but you were still upset with him. You needed time to gather your own thoughts & feelings before you approached him.        

            When you did finally decide that you were ready to speak with him it was on a Saturday. You got dressed for the day, wanting to wear something light & airy for your walk through the woods. Roman’s estate was on the other side of the university, which meant a lengthy walk for you. But you were looking forward to it. It only meant that you would have more time alone with your thoughts as you trekked the three miles to his mansion & being in the midst of mother nature always helped keep you calm & in-tune with your feelings.

            It was early afternoon when you finally made it to the Godfrey estate. Your boots scrunched as they carried you across the expansive front lawn that felt almost larger than any national part in the country. You peered up at the gothic style mansion as it loomed over you. There were no cars in sight, not even Roman’s. Perhaps he wouldn’t even be home. But you still wanted to try.

            Knocking on the front door, you stood there for some time, gathering that no one was home, but just as you were considering leaving, the door opened with a groan, revealing an elder man in a suit.

            “Yes?”

            “Hi.” You smiled kindly, “Is Roman home?”

            The man eyed you curiously, “And who, may I ask, is asking?”

            “_____.” You told him, “A friend.”

            “I’m afraid Mr. Godfrey is out at the moment. If you would like, you may wait in the den here for him to return, though I can’t tell when exactly that’ll be.”

            “Oh. Okay.” It was only the afternoon. You had no obligations to make, & you did just walk three miles. A break would be okay. And if he wasn’t back by the time you thought it appropriate to leave, you would try again tomorrow.

            “Thank you, I’d like that very much.”

            The man nodded once before opening the door wider. You stepped inside & were reminded about just how simply you lived. You had never lived anywhere that had more than just a couple hundred square feet to it. You couldn’t even imagine living somewhere like this.

            “This way, Miss.” He guided you with his arm to a set of double doors off the foyer.

            Once opening them, he gestured for you to take a seat on one of the couches, “My name is Conway. If you have any questions, please, don’t be afraid to ask.”

            “Thank you, Conway.” You smiled up at him.

            “Before I leave, could I interest you in something to drink?”

            “Oh, no, I’m okay, thank you.”

            Conway nodded once before exiting the room, closing the doors behind him. The room was silent, save for the ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner. You sat still, taking in the room around you. It was beautiful, you had admit, what with the high ceiling & intricately detailed molding along the walls. You stared at the heavy looking desk, imagining Roman sitting behind it as he nursed a glass of scotch. You were unsure if that was anything he actually did, but you could see it.

            After a bit longer & with no sign of Roman, you decided to take a closer look. Trailing the length of the room, you eventually found yourself at the desk, overlooking the put-together items atop it. One item stuck out, though. You fingers the frame of the picture, recognizing only one of the faces in the family portrait. Roman was younger in the photo, not much younger than he was now, but still young. He stood behind a regal woman who sat before him, her hair long & dark. She had his same piercing eyes, though hers were dark. And on either side of her were two young girls. One with blonde hair who smiled sweetly, & the other with dark hair who kept her face hidden from the viewer.

            You were lost in thought, not knowing Roman had sisters as he never spoke about them, when you heard the front door to the mansion swing open followed by a resounding slam.

            “Conway!” It was unmistakably Roman’s voice.

            “Mr. Godfrey.” You heard Conway’s softer, more polite one through the wall. “You have a visitor.”

            A pause, then “A visitor?”

            “Yes, a Miss. _____.”

            It was less than a second later when the doors to the den burst open & Roman stood in the doorway, searching the room for you. When his eyes finally landed on yours, his eyes softened.

            “Roman.” You greeted. But he said nothing. He closed the doors behind him before quickly moving towards you. You didn’t have time to think or react before Roman had you gathered in his arms, hugging you close to his chest.

            You gasped softly at the unexpected bout of affection, but couldn’t be surprised at the same time that that was how he greeted you after respecting your boundaries for a week.

            “I missed you.” He breathed softly, his breath brushing the hairs at the top of your head.

            Your heart softened at that, leading you to wrap your own arms around him. It was incredible to you how in such a short amount of time, Roman had become someone you cared deeply about. At first he had been amusing to you, if only slightly annoying, but his persistence to become closer to you eventually won you over.

            He held on to you for some time, acting as if he was fearful of letting you go, that he would never hold you again, but you ran your hands up & down his back in reassurance. You weren’t going anywhere. Not unless he gave you another reason to.

            When he finally pulled away, he stared openly at your face, as if remembering every detail of it to lock & store away in the deepest recesses of his mind.

            “I’ve missed you, too.” You revealed. And you had. You weren’t lying. Couldn’t, honestly, even if you wanted to. You were raised to always be transparent.

            Your admittance sparked that charming smile he usually adorned to cross his handsome European features.

            “Come with me.” He exclaimed like a child excited to open a long-awaited gift.

            Unable to resist his childlike enthusiasm, you allowed him to lead you out of the den & through the many halls & rooms of the estate. You had no time to admire or inspect the details of the rooms before he led you to a set of glass doors. You peered up at him wondrously. He grinned down at you before pulling open both doors & gently pushing you inside.

            An amazed gasp parted your lips at the sight before you. Roman had brought you the estate’s greenhouse, & it was thriving with life. You stepped forward, running your fingers along the many different textures of plants & flowers, inhaling deeply the earthy, floral scent of the space. It was humid, as well, making you grateful you wore light clothing, but it too made you feel grounded.

            You glanced back at Roman, an elated smile on your face. He returned it, his eyes twinkling brightly.

            “It’s beautiful.” You commented.

            “It is.” But his eyes remained on you. You looked away. Roman Godfrey, the only person in existence who made you look away in embarrassment.

            “I’m glad you’re here.” He shared, walking further into the space, “I have something for you. Been wanting to give it to you ever since last week but you wanted your space so.”

            “Thank you, Roman.” You caught his eyes, “For doing that. It really meant a lot.”

            He nodded once, smiling softly.

            Turning away from you he leant over a table, his hands tangling among plants & flowers alike in search of something. You tried to peer around him, curious about what it was he was doing, but his large frame made it nearly impossible. And then he turned around. In his hands, he held the stems of many small, delicate white flowers, smaller than the palm of your hand.

            “It’s—”

            “Hemlock.” You finished for him, staring at the beautiful, yet deadly, plant with admiration.

            “Yeah.” He breathed out, grinning. “I remember you telling me about what the Worm Moon meant & I got to thinking about how all sorts of things could mean lots of things, things normal folk probably don’t even think about.”

            He handed you the hemlock & you accepted it gratefully as he continued, “So, I was doing a lot of reading one night, just reading about plants & whatnot & their meanings & I came across hemlock. I was especially curious about it’s meaning, ya know, considering the town we live in, & I learned that it means, actually, a lot of bad things, I guess you’d say. Stuff like poison, gloom, sorrow. But you know what I learned?”

            You knew what but you wanted to hear it from him, smiling up at him as he stared gleefully down at you, “Resilience. Potential.”

            You felt the butterflies return to your insides, fluttering around madly in there.

            “You were right.” Roman began, his hands cupping yours as you held the hemlock, “I don’t accept who I am. And the people of this town don’t either. Likely never will.” He chuckled lightly before continuing, “I’ve been ridiculed by them my whole life & I let it shape who I am. I let it control me rather than control it myself. But I’ve also survived this long. And…I believe I can be better, do better.”

            His eyes gazed adoringly into your own, “I have potential, _____. And you helped me see that.”

            “I know.” You cupped his cheek lovingly, “I’ve always seen it. It’s always been there.”

            You stared at each other for a moment longer before Roman finally leaned in, his lips capturing yours. You sighed into the kiss, feeling your body relax into his touch. So natural. So right.

            He kissed you for a moment longer, deepening it by cradling the back of your head. You opened yourself up to him, allowing him to feel you, mind & soul.

            Then he parted from you, his forehead resting against your own. You laughed lightly & he joined you. Your sweet, soft laughter filling the space.

            “Have dinner with me.” It wasn’t a question. And it didn’t need to be.

            Dinner was fulfilling. You were filled with good food & good energy. Roman held your hand atop the table the whole time as you ate & drank a few glasses of wine. The wine was far better than the beer you had a week ago. The night was coming to a close though, & you were sad that you would have to leave soon.

            Conway began clearing away your plates as Roman led you from the dining room & into the main corridor. You expected him to lead you to the door, but were surprised when he began leading you up the extravagant staircase.

            “Where are we going?” You asked, his hand gently guiding yours.

            “One more thing before you leave.” He smirked down at you.

            At the top of the landing, Roman led you down another corridor with many doors. You wondered how anyone could need so many rooms & what all they were for exactly. But your curiosity was redirected when Roman brought you to a door near the end of the hallway. He opened it & led you inside.

            You stared in mild awe at the size of the bedroom. And that’s all it was. A bedroom. Roman raised his arm in a grand gesture as you took in the floor-to-ceiling windows & the detailing on the ceiling. It was like a museum. Filled with beautiful, crafted pieces of furniture & the finest fabrics around the world.

            “What do you think?” Roman asked, smiling in anticipation.

            You marveled the room before returning his smile, “Beautiful. Again.”

            “I’m glad you think so.” He bit his lip, “Because it’s yours.”

            That made you stumble where you stood. You eyed him warily, waiting for him to say he was joking & that it was, in fact, his room. But nothing of the sort ever came.

            “What do you mean?”

            Roman gestured to the room again, “It’s your room. Now that we’re a couple, you can stay here. I mean, most nights you’ll probably be with me in my bed,” he chuckled at that, “but ya know, for when you want your own space.”

            Words evaded you. It was dizzying, everything Roman said. He was moving fast, too fast for your mind to keep up.

            “Roman, that’s not…” You frowned, shaking your head.

            He approached you then, gripping your hands in his, “What, what is it?”

            You gazed up at him forlornly, “I don’t need a room here—”

            “Well, that’s okay, you can just stay in my room then, I just thought that you—”

            “No, no, Roman, listen to me.” You stopped him, tightening your hold on his fingers, “I won’t be here that often. And we haven’t even discussed being a couple, I’m not even sure what that means exactly. Look, you’re moving fast. Really fast. Too fast for me. We just made up. And I feel I’m still getting to know you. I don’t, I don’t feel it’s necessary to rush.”

            “But… I love you.” He stared at you, his voice soft & low.

            Those words caused conflicted feelings with you. Love was a strong word. A big word. Not a word to be tossed around so easily. He was getting in over his head, again, & you needed to bring him back down.

            “You don’t love me.” You retorted as gently as you could, “You hardly know me.”

            “Don’t tell me how I feel.” His voice hardened suddenly, along with his eyes as his expression shifted to the one reminiscent of the night he got into that fight.

            “Emotions are high, okay? We don’t have to talk about this right now.”

            “Yes, we do!” He raised his voice, “I love you, _____, & you’re… I don’t know what you’re trying to say but all I hear is you not saying it back.”

            “Okay…” You responded calmly. You attempted to pull your hands from his but as you did he held them tighter. Your eyes flashed to his, “Roman, let me go.”

            “No.” Roman’s lips quivered, his nostrils twitching, “You’re staying.”

            He tugged you closer to him. You felt your body stiffen in response, your fight or flight kicking in.

            “Roman, stop this, now.” You struggled against his hold but he was much too strong for you.

            “Why are you trying to leave? Why are you always trying to get away from me?” His voice shook with that same rage you heard that night.

            “I’m not, Roman, stop! You’re starting to hurt me.” You gritted your teeth as you felt the bones in your fingers begin to grind against one another in his death group.

            “Hurt you?” He asked blasphemously, “What about me?! You’re hurting me!”

            “I’m not meaning to!” You cried out as he crushed your hands against his chest.

            “But you are.” His voice softened as he gazed down at you, “No more. No more hurting. I just want to change. And you’re the only one who can help me with that.”

            “And I will, but first you have to let me go.”

            Roman erupted with a roar as he yanked you forward before you fell to the floor. You managed to catch yourself on your hands but weren’t quick enough to get back on your feet before Roman was on top of you, crushing your front against the hardwood.

            “Roman, stop!” You pleaded with him but your words fell on deaf ears.

            He then kicked your legs apart, forcing one of them to bend upwards as he made room for himself between your legs.

            “I told you!” He yelled, one of his hands on the center of your back, forcing you stay down, “You’re staying!”

            “No, Roman!” Panic gripped your heart & yanked when you felt him gather the hem of your dress & bunch it around your waist.

            This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening! This was Roman! Soft-hearted, charming, & always making the butterflies in your stomach flutter. But they weren’t fluttering anymore. There were snakes in there now, & they were sinking their teeth in.

            You heard the clinking of his belt buckle as he fought to get his pants undone.

            Had you really misjudged his character? You knew he was strange, different, much like you, but you viewed those qualities as endearing. But the signs were all there. The following you around school, staking out in the woods at night as you milled about in your caravan, buttering you up with sweet words that anyone would fall for. Even his touches were gentle.

            You felt a prodding at your entrance, suddenly regretting your choice to never wear underwear, having found bras & underwear a pointless form of clothing. But even if you had, Roman would have surely torn the fabric to pieces.

            Roman wrapped an arm below your chest so he could capture your throat in his hand, stabilizing your struggling movement as he forced himself inside you.

            A pained yelp filled the room as he stretched you beyond comprehension. You had never been intimate with anyone before, taking the idea of having sex for the first time as a serious choice. You wanted to wait until you found someone who it felt natural being with, who you could be yourself with. And up until five minutes ago, Roman was looking to be that person.

But not anymore as he took it by force, causing the most horrid cries to erupt from you.

“I never wanted to hurt you.” He grunted in your ear as his thrusts tore you apart, “Never. I only wanted to make you feel how you make me feel.”

Tears cascaded down your cheeks, the burning of his assault spreading throughout your whole body. Never before had you felt more violated. Humiliated, embarrassed, ashamed, yes, but always from strangers who didn’t know any better or were too ignorant to care. But nothing ever like this. Not from someone who you felt genuine, real feelings toward.

And he was ruining everything.

His moans of pleasure were grating to your ears, a mockery of all the feelings & sensations you were forced to endure. His hold on your throat tightened, your air becoming restricted. You cried out but it was hoarse. You remembered the sounds the kid from last week had made as Roman held him against a tree, & wondered if he was as fearful for his life as you were in that moment.

“Ro—” You attempted to say his name but the lack of air only made it come out as a wheeze.

He continued to assault you, using your body as a means to show to prove to you his own twisted devotion. You felt him everywhere. His hands on your throat & hip, his chest flushed to your back, his thighs pressed harshly against your own. There was nowhere he wasn’t touching you, wasn’t hurting you in some way.

And even when it was over, when he grunted satisfyingly as he stilled above you, he was still hurting you. You knew, deep down, that the pain he caused you that day would never leave you.

When he rolled off you finally, having remained there for some time as you both caught your breath, you felt little comfort. Your world had crashed around you & were lying there in the ruins of it. But you needed to get up. You needed to get as far away from Roman as possible.

You winced quietly as you pushed yourself upwards, your arms shaking beneath you as you did. The pain Roman caused shot through you as you bent your legs, forcing a hiss to form between your teeth. The sound made Roman look in your direction.

He quickly moved towards you, his hand outstretched in concern but as he drew closer you slapped him. Hard. His face whipped to side, your handprint leaving a bright red mark on his cheek.

“Don’t touch me.”

It seemed as if, only then, it dawned on him what had just happened. He remained on his knees as he stared through you, his eyes watering & shaking, “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry.”

His apology meant nothing. Today was the last time you ever looked past his dangerous behavior.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you felt hot liquid ooze down your thighs due to the force of gravity. You didn’t need to look down to know what you would see.

Steeling yourself, you readjusted your dress until it covered your thighs, hiding the evidence of what Roman had done. Swallowing the dinner that threatened to come up, you limped away from Roman.

“_____.” He spoke after you, his voice wavering as he cried silently, “Please don’t leave.”

Ignoring his plea, you exited the room, leaning on the wall for support as you made your way to the stairs. Half-way down the stairs, you heard Roman behind you.

“I’m sorry!” He practically yelled, begging you to stay, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Pausing on the stairs, you turned to face him one last time. You glared hotly at him, fresh tears blurring your vision, “Yes. You did.”

Your claim forced Roman’s own tears to spill down his cheeks.

Turning away from him with finality, you hobbled the rest of the way down. Conway appeared out of nowhere, eyeing you as one normally would until he realized your state.

“Miss?” The concern in his voice almost made you cry again, but you surpassed him, helping yourself to the front door.

“Mr. Godfrey, what happened?” Conway’s voice faded as you left the estate, the door left open behind you.

Gripping your abdomen, you willed yourself to make it all the way. You had to. After all, walking through the trees always brought you peace & that’s what you needed most off, even if your blood seeped from between your thighs & coated the earth.

But as you did, Peter’s parting words rang loud in your ears.

People here are not what they seem.

this is 5/10 requests from my 500 followers celebration request opening!

i am so so so so so so SO happy with this oneshot/request. i fucking LOVE roman & writing for him has been a dream come true. (also, the amount of times i accidentally types rafe instead of roman while writing this was ridiculous so if you spot any sneaky rafe's that i missed, please let me know lmao)

big shout out thank you to the anon who requested. anon, i hope you loved it as much as i did writing it, PLEASE be sure to let me know what you think.

as always, please drop a comment, reblog w reviews, or talk to me in the ask box so i can read your thoughts/feelings. they are my drug.

thank you for reading!

oona<3

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