#i love local girl but its a BIG chapter

[taniushka12]

this run ill try to do room 665/oceanview hotel -> local girl -> the theater murder -> valhalla nursing home instead of the other way around, maybe i can see more parallelisms this way 🤔🤔🤔

[nurse-floyd]

The Right Spot - Chapter 1

Pairings: Bob Floyd x Reader 101 Dalmations AU

Warnings: some cursing and minor mentions of blood.

Taglist: @pretzelcat4-blog @adventuringblind (if you want to be added to my TGM or this masterlist please let me know)

Thank you @vivwritesfics for letting me endlessly bug you with this! As always please send me feedback, it fuels the writing!

Bob was out for his morning job at his local park, a routine he loved before he had to drive to his day job. It also meant he got to spend more time with his girl Sassy, the Dalmation he’d adopted as a puppy. She locally trotted beside him, her shiny spotted coat glistening as the sun began to rise and filter through the trees. The pair certainly stood out, Bob with his big round metal rimmed glasses and her with her spotty coat and shiny red leather collar. The park was quiet at that time of morning, the only sound was their feet against the pavement as they ran through the winding paths and the birds as they began to chirp their morning tunes. There were a few other people, a few joggers crazy enough to be up at this time and a few of the regular dog walkers he usually met on most mornings.

You were there with your dog Jimmy, a beautiful dalmation you’d adopted as a puppy from your colleague; being a vet really was the best job and certainly had its perks. He was playing fetch, sprinting after his tennis ball as you threw it and waited for him to run back and drop it at your feet to go again.

Bob hadn’t noticed the woman throwing the ball, or her matching dog. Sassy however had noticed and was instantly infatuated with the dalmation. Intrigued and wanting to meet the other dog, she suddenly perked up and without warning lunged forward. Before he could react, the lead wrapped around his wrist tugged him forward with such a force he lost his footing, slamming into the ground face first. The lead slipped from his grip and before he could grab it, Sassy was gone.

“Sassy! Wait!” Bob called out with a groan as he got up and ran, well more limped, after her.

On the other side of the park, you were laughing and blissfully unaware of the chaos as you and Jimmy continued to play fetch. Your amusement turned into surprise as you threw the ball once more and a loud bark sounded from behind you. You spun around and found yourself staring at another dalmation; but this wasn’t Jimmy. “Hi, gorgeous. Who’re you?” You asked as you looked at the name tag, “Sassy…that’s a funny name. Where’s your owner, huh?”

You stroked her head and she nuzzled into your hand, she was very affectionate. Just as you were about to spin the tag around to see if there was a number to call, you heard another bark. Your eyes widened in shock as you saw a man you didn’t know trying to wrangle your dog.

“Gotcha, very clever running off like that Sassy,” he grumbled as he grabbed the collar of the dog.

You ran over, Sassy trotting behind you to see what her dad was doing. “Let go of that dog!” You yelled, as the man tried to get control.

“It’s fine ma’am, she’s my dog and just got away from me there for a minute,” Bob explained. He probably looked slightly deranged, glasses crooked and broken, his knees scraped and bleeding as he limped and attempted to wrestle the dog.

“Let go of that dog, or I’ll call the cops!”

“Listen, I’ve not had a great morning and I’m gonna be late for work as is,” he began to explain as he pulled the Dalmation behind him.

“She is a he, and that is my dog. I said let him go or I’ll…I’ll hit you,” you don’t know where that threat came from, call it mothers instincts but you had your backpack raised and ready to follow through with the threat as you moved closer to him.

“Really ma’am it’s fine, she’s-”

Before Bob could say anything else, you smacked your bag hard into his shoulder causing him to lose his balance and fall to the ground. “Now, let go of my dog or I’ll hit you again!”

Now Bob really was confused, “your dog?”

“Yes, that’s my dog, can you please let him go?” You asked once more, the bag still raised.

“He?” Bob looked at her confused before he turned to the dog attached to his lead, “excuse me.” Bob looked down in between the dog's legs, and confirmed in fact, this was not his dog.

“She’s a he?” Now he really was confused, but maybe that was the bump to his head.

You nodded your reply and turned to look at the dalmation that was hiding behind your legs, seeming to know what she’d done.

“Sassy Margaret Floyd, come here,” he grumbled. “I’m really sorry ma’am, it was my mistake,” he apologized, feeling pretty stupid as you knelt down beside him and attached your lead to Pongo’s collar and handed the stranger back his. “What have you got in that bag anyway? Bricks?” He asked, rubbing his shoulder as he got up and went to retrieve his own dalmation.

“Just a few textbooks,” you replied sheepishly, “I’m sorry, when I thought you were stealing my dog, I got a bit protective.”

Bob laughed awkwardly… “No worries, ma’am. Sorry again for the confusion. I’m Bob by the way, you’ve already met Sassy.”

“She is gorgeous, Sassy, that’s a strange name. This is Jimmy, I guess it is easy to confuse two Dalmatians!” you laughed a little, embarrassed about smacking him so hard.

“Shit,” you exclaimed as you got a good look at him. He was handsome, there was no denying that, but what caught your attention was his bloody knees and his cracked glasses. “Do you know your knees are bleeding?” you asked, “and your glasses are broken.” Now you really did feel guilty for hitting him.

“Seems as though Sassy got a bit excited at the thought of meeting another dalmation and dragged me to the floor in a rush to meet him. Hurt my shoulder too, but I think that was more your combat skills than the fall,” he teased.

Your cheeks blushed as you looked away, “I’m really sorry about that…is there anything I can do to help?”

“Uh, no. It’s okay ma’am, really.” He looked at his watch as he realized the time, “Shit, I need to get going. It was really nice to meet you-“ it was then he realized he didn’t even know your name.

“Y/N,” you supplied as you held your hand out for him, “and yours is Robert? I saw it on Sassy’s name tag.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, “well it was lovely being assaulted by you this morning. Hope I didn’t scare you too much, you know, trying to steal your dog and please call my Bob,” he chuckled as he held out his hand to shake yours.

“It’s an honest mistake, really,” you reassured him, “seems as though we both have a certain fondness for Dalmatians.”

You both shared a glance before looking down to Jimmy and Sassy who were curiously sniffing each other and bumping noses, as if they didn’t just get their parents into trouble.

“Well…they seem to have a certain fondness for each other, he mirrored your comment before realizing he really did have to go. “Come on Sass, you’ve gotten me in enough trouble this morning, I can’t be late for work too.” The pair of you untangled your leashes before Bob started walking away.

“It was lovely meeting you Bob.”

“You too,” he called back.

You stared at him, Jimmy barking a few times as Bob and Sassy started off on their run again. “What a nice man, hey Jimmy?” You sighed. You really hoped you’d bump into him again.

With Sassy safe and settled at home, Bob cleaned up his knees and begrudgingly put in his uncomfortable contact lenses, making a note to put in a new prescription for his glasses. He hated wearing them, but on this short notice he had no choice.

The first person he saw was Rooster, checking over his F/A-18E. “Hey Bob, loving the new look,” he called out when he noticed the WSO wasn’t wearing his usual wire rimmed glasses.

Bob made something of a grumble back and continued. He saw Phoenix next, who’d noticed his limp and lack of glasses. “Woah, rough night?”

Bob shot her a look, “rough morning more like.”

She looked at him confused, “what happened?”

He explained about Sassy running off and the fact she’d made him hit the deck so hard his glasses broke and he’d skinned both knees. He also told her about the beautiful woman he met, with her matching dog and the fact she could take him down with just one swing of her bag (he made it known to Phoenix it was totally because he was injured and already off guard).

“Did you get her number?”

“Did I get her number? When do you think would have been a good time, after I nearly stole her dog or after she assaulted me?” He laughed.

She shook her head with a laugh, “do I need to teach you everything?”

He wished he did get your number now. Wished he’d somehow run into you again, hopefully next time without the injuries, almost theft or assault. He went about the rest of his day as usual but he couldn’t help feeling just that little bit disappointed he hadn’t taken a leap and asked you.

[munsonomenon]

⛧☾༺’causal’༻☽⛧

Chapter 1: The prologue

𖤐 paring: rockstar! eddie x fem reader

𖤐 contains: angst, slow burn, love triangle

𖤐 word count: 530

𖤐 warnings: allusions to smut ! mdni !

After all but a few of your friends have moved states to attend prestigious universities and big-time office jobs you decide to take a simpler start to your early twenties. You take on a part-time job at the newly opened record shop in your small hometown of Hawkins, Indiana. You figured your admiration of music and the easy cash would make this chapter of your life a breeze, but you never expected the whirlwind of what was to come- and its name was Eddie Munson.

Eddie was never known for much more than being the local “Freak”—a tagline he had been branded with during his teenage years. Most people were put off by his dark exterior, intense music, and fantasy worlds he often surrounded himself with to avoid his own loneliness. The worst fantasy he had encapsulated himself into was the one and only, Chrissy Cunningham.

You never would’ve thought Eddie was the type to fall victim to the high of the chase for the queen of Hawkins High. It didn’t take long after graduation for him to realize the only string tying the pair together was the cheap deals she could score on whatever substances he had in stock at the time, causing him to revert into his shell of loneliness, avoiding all relationships he had built up until that point. The most fragile one of all being you.

You had eventually accepted that the spark that that had just started to burn between the both of you had completely dwindled out. That was until just days after your first shift at your new job, you turn to greet a familiar curl-topped silhouette. Every nearly buried feeling you had for him quickly rose back up to the surface. Everything soon after was a blur. Most nights were spent entangled in each other’s sheets, or the back of his van.

Eddie was too afraid to admit he was attached to the rekindled flame, while you were already too far gone- completely engulfed in the flames he had ignited in your chest with every moment you spent together. Unexpectedly, with an eerily similar sense of Deja Vu everything you shared came crumbling down again with the overnight success corroded coffin was gifted.

Eddie was completely overwhelmed by the newly acquired popularity that went straight to his ego. Interviews, large crowds of every girl that had ever avoided him in high school, a permanent residency at the hideout, and his most proud achievement- a big-name record label signing his childhood dream into fruition. Eddie decided that it would be best for the two of you to remain casual so he could explore all facets of his new life.

With your ever-growing resentment contained between yourself and your best friend Robin, Eddie finally had everything he had ever wanted, is at least what he thought. Until the night before Halloween in the crowd of one of his shows, Eddie spots you being a little too friendly with the one guy everyone knew was in love with you, except for yourself- Steve Harrington.

You never expected the whirlwind that was Eddie Munson, but you were even less prepared for the consequences of your captivation.

༺ the end.

chapter II: ‘call it what you want’

coming: tomorrow!

authors note: if you’ve made it this far- thank you for reading! this is my first ever published work so please let me know what you think! i have so much planned and i cannot wait to continue to share these two’s very messy love story with you all!

[spicerackofblorbos]

Chapter 1: November

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, eventual smut (these update with every chapter)

☾ Author's note ➼ Hey guys! This is my first time writing fanfiction in a loooooong time, like the last time I wrote was probably in 2011. So with that said please be kind with any feedback or comments. I hope you enjoy! (also I made Hange's pronouns she/her/them/they)

Edit (11/27/2023): Hey guys, welcome to my little world of Unspoken Words. I have quite literally used this story as a way to better myself as a writer. As you read on, you may find that I've progressed (ofc I have a long way to go) but because of that, my first few chapters might be rough. With your patience, you may find a liking to this story as I know I've loved writing every word of it.

☾ word count ➼ ~7.1k

20-something years ago 

You’re not sure how, but you find yourself sitting in the back of a big, white van. Red and blue lights danced in your eyes, and it felt like a thousand people surrounded you. Something plastic is placed on your face then you are instructed to breathe in deeply. You thought it was funny to be told to breathe, like you don’t just do it naturally, but you follow instructions regardless. It’s hard though, every part of your body hurts, chest included. Every breath you take feels like your insides are on fire.  

‘Fire’, you think.  

Everything is on fire.

Present Day

Levi stood blank faced as he meticulously cleaned the blender station for what felt like the 100th time today. The late afternoon rush had just tapered down so he took advantage of the next to empty café to clean as much as he could before closing for the evening.  

“It’s 20 degrees outside, how are people still wanting frozen drinks.” he murmurs to himself, placing the blender back in its spot. Levi turns to the front counter and slings the towel he was using to dry things onto his shoulder.  

His best friend, roommate, and business partner could be seen restocking some books on tall shelves, a gentle smile lighting up his boyish features. It’s been about a year and a half since they started this business venture together and they had no idea at the time how successful their bookstore-café combo would be in this small town.  

Erwin’s thirst for knowledge kept their shelves as variable as ever while Levi’s love for perfecting the art of tea kept the drinks flowing. The problem, however, was Levi’s lack of people skills. He was seldom seen at the register, nor would you ever see him smile or talk to the customers. He often would leave you with a grunt and a swift turn after handing off the drinks.  

No, for that, they had hired a couple of local highschoolers to do the facing work.  

“Mr. Smith, Levi?” a soft voice rang out to the left of him. Levi shifted his attention to a taller girl with shoulder length raven hair standing next to him. Being as Mikasa is his cousin, they found early on how weird it was to be called ‘Mr. Ackerman’ as they shared the same surname. It was this connection too that got them to where they are today.  

“Would it be okay if Eren and I take off a little early tonight? We have some big tests coming up and we’d like to take some extra time to study.” Mikasa shifted her dark eyes to the darkening windows as the sun set just over the horizon. Pinks and oranges flooded the partially clouded skies.  

”Tch.” Levi could not help but roll his eyes. He raised a brow at her and leaned back against the counter behind him for support. “Sure, I guess,” he continues. “But do you really need it or is it for that blockhead?”  

As if summoned by his words, Eren comes up from behind Mikasa and wraps a red scarf around his girlfriend’s neck, both of their jackets hanging off one of his arms. Eren is a good kid, always on time and followed directions, but the amount of sass he held in his body was something else. Levi and Erwin did not mind though, as he added a certain energy in the café that the customers seemed to enjoy. The two men wouldn’t say it out loud, but they really appreciated having them both on the team.  

“Hey, I heard that. And yes, I need to study desperately. Econ is so hard and for what?!” Eren’s teal eyes widened for emphasis. To add to it he even put on a fake pout.  

“I-”  

“Just take the trash with you on the way out and you’re good to go.” Erwin piped up from behind a bookshelf.  

Mikasa nodded in acknowledgement towards the voice, a silent thank you. Like Levi, she was not one for many words. He once thought it was an Ackerman thing but then he thought back to his annoying uncle and changed his mind quickly.  

With that, she and Eren both untangled the aprons from their bodies, grabbed their belongings, and picked up the trash bags that were already taken out of the cans. They opted to leave through the back since the dumpsters were located that way. Again, Levi wouldn’t say it to anyone out loud, but he really did like those kids.  

Erwin could be heard stacking more books into the shelves which left Levi to polish the counters again. It was the last hour before they closed so it stayed quiet for the most part, only interrupted by the sounds of scuffling shoes and books being placed on hard surfaces. Light jazz filled the rest of the silence. Then the bell signifying new customers rang from the front.  

“Levi, can you grab that?”  

The raven-haired man just huffed in response then stepped over to the register. His eyes fell on two figures right in front of him. A frazzled brunette and... you.  

Due to the season, you are bundled up in a thick parka and knitted beanie. A big scarf wraps around your neck and face so that all Levi could see is your flushed cheeks and thick lashed eyes. Truthfully, you reminded him of a marshmallow.  

“What’ll it be?” he asks, deadpan. The brunette is the one to respond, the voice loud enough to make him wince.  

“Hmmm... well one English breakfast tea latte with lots of room for sugar aaaaand I’ll take a peppermint hot chocolate. Oh, and extra whip! We’ll drink it here.” She fished out a card with a dramatic thwip and handed it to Levi’s outstretched hand.  Their café is one of those where if you were to stay, they offered washable cup ware as to keep the prices down on disposable cups. Not to mention the lessened ‘environmental impact’ as Erwin would say.  

Levi glances at you before turning to make both orders. You give a small wave and smile a little, but he was already working quickly on the drinks. 

He went into autopilot as he steeped the tea and steamed the milk. He really appreciated customers that ordered anything outside of coffee, especially when it came to tea. It’s not that he hated coffee, though it’s not like he liked it either, but it just wasn’t his thing. Coffee offered a different kind of bitterness that he wasn’t very fond of. With extra whipped cream in one and extra space in the other, he whirled around to place the drinks on the counter.  

The one with glasses is the one that picks them up and they promptly walk in the direction of where you currently sit, one of the tables in the back corner by the window. You were stripped of your big parka and scarf, though the beanie stayed. Your eyes were wandering around the café in wonder, and Levi was pretty sure this had to be your first time here. But truthfully, he wouldn’t know, he didn’t make it his business to know his customers. That was Erwin’s and the kids’ job. 

“The shelves are full and I’m exhausted.” Erwin came around the counter with a couple of empty boxes in his arms, heading straight for the back to the dumpster. Levi stepped back and leaned against the counter once again, his own black tea that had steeped while making yours cradled in his fingertips. He kept looking at his only customers while he sipped the black liquid. The teacup almost slipped out of his grip as he saw you dumping a large amount of sugar into your cup.  

 There you sit, extremely focused on the cup in front of you and lips pressed together tightly, almost as if you were afraid you’d put in too much. The sight would have been funny if you hadn’t just ruined your entire tea, he thinks to himself. You smile to yourself in satisfaction and put the sugar jar back where it came from. While you stir the sweetener in gently, the brunette in front of you talks animatedly. Hands were flying everywhere, and Levi could practically feel the energy radiating from the corner of the room.  You were doing the same, silently laughing. 

Suddenly the front door flew open, the bell ringing loudly with it. Levi grits his teeth, steeling himself for yet another customer interaction. But his shoulders dropped in relief at the sight of only Carly, Erwin’s girlfriend. She saunters up to the counter with a big smile aimed towards Levi and without even asking she slid behind the bar. Erwin had already made it from the back and was in the process of putting away the leftover ingredients from the day. Carly wraps her arms around her boyfriend and plants a big kiss on his face, to which Levi quickly looks away. It wasn’t weird for her to come in right as they were about to close.  

What was weird, he thought, was the shock that flooded your face as you eyed the very public display of affection. Levi knit his brows in confusion as the brunette pivoted in her seat to see what you were staring at. Their face fell, any evidence of a good time completely erased.  

“Carly?”  

The person in question whipped around so fast at the voice and the panic that exuded from her was palpable. She quickly unwrapped herself from Erwin’s embrace.  

“Hange.”  

If it wasn’t for the jazz in the background, the lengthy silence that followed would have been deathly.  

Carly clears her throat and laughs awkwardly.  

“Uh, why are you here?”  

The person named Hange just lifts their hot chocolate cup awkwardly, not really saying anything. Their eyes shift between Carly and Erwin, clearly understanding what had happened.  

“I-I’m sorry, you guys know each other?” Erwin sounds cautious, like he already knew the answer. Of course, he would, he isn’t dumb. His piercing blue eyes survey the situation, going back and forth between the two.  

“Well, uh. I-” Carly stutters, clearly at a loss of what to say in the predicament she found herself in.  

“She’s my girlfriend.” Hange claims calmly.  

This admission makes Erwin sigh heavily, confirming what he had pieced together. Levi stared at him in bewilderment as the man just chuckled quietly.  

“Well. I suppose that’s it then.” And with that he turns on his heel and stalks off to the back room. 

“Wait, Erwin I can explain!” She follows right on his heels and disappears into the back room as well. A minute later you can hear hysterical crying and calm retorts reverberating from the back. If Levi could shrink into the cabinets to get out of this situation, he would. Instead, he focuses on the other party who were having a very quiet and rushed discussion. Well, a one-sided discussion, as he only heard one voice.  

Levi, realizing it was almost time to close anyways, rushes to close the distance between him and the front door. He really did not want to have to deal with other customers while the drama unfurled. So, he flips the door sign to ‘Closed’ and unplugs the ‘Open’ neon sign hanging in the window. A couple walks by about to open the door, probably out for a café date from the looks of it. But they were only met with a dead stare from the sharpest eyes they’d ever seen. With that, they briskly turned around and left down the sidewalk.  

Levi spins around and from here he gets a better look at the two trapped customers. You were moving your hands all over the place like you were earlier. But with an even closer look he realizes you weren’t just talking animatedly with your hands; you were talking with them. You were signing. 

You reacted to your partner’s conversation just fine, so it was clear you had some sort of hearing. Your scarf now hung loose around your shoulders, and it looked like you had tears brimming in your eyes. Levi swiftly walks back to the counter; this is obviously not a conversation he needed to be a part of.

“Hey, don’t worry about me. It’s only been a couple of months. Really, it’s better to find out now than 3 years from now.” They laughed without humor. You know when Hange was saving face for your sake, she was never as sly as she thought she was.  

‘You don’t need to be strong right now.’ You sign then reach your hand out to touch her cheek softly. Physical touch had become your second language early on, if only to emphasize. Fortunately, Hange was okay with that and often embraced it with open arms.  

“I know, my little strawberry. I just need some time to process everything.” They pat you on the head lightly with a small grin. You swat their hands, blushing at the nickname you were so graciously given so many years ago.  But you nod back, knowing they would not change their mind.  

The tall blonde glides through the back door, alone. His face was grim as he tugged loose the tie around his neck.  

“Hange, was it?” He started walking towards you and your very startled sister.  

“U-uh yeah. That’s my name! Listen I had no idea, I’m so sorry. I would have said something obviously but-”, they take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. What’s your name again?”  

“Erwin Smith. There is nothing to apologize for as I can only assume there’s only one blame to be given. I hate that we must meet under such a circumstance, but it is truly nice to meet you.” He raises a hand waiting for a handshake.  

Hange takes it after a second of processing, shaking the hand vigorously with both hands.  

“Well, unfortunately it is what it is. I’m sure Carly and I will be speaking soon. I’m assuming she’s not just hiding back there.” They flick their gaze to the back door he had just come through.  

“Ah well, yes. Long gone... how long were you two...?”  

“Only like, 3 months or so. You?” 

He flinched at that and murmured, “3 Years.” 

Thinking back to her comment not 10 minutes ago, Hange bit their cheek.  

“Oh man I’m so sorry.”  

“No, please. It’s alright. None of this is yours or my fault. We couldn’t have known, but now we do.” Erwin chuckled to himself. You wonder if he’s trying to save face the way your sister did. His gaze now shifts to you. He is a very handsome man. To your extreme surprise, he starts signing to you. 

‘I'm sorry, who might you be? I noticed you signing earlier. I know a little from the books I have read.’ His crystal blue eyes sparkle at you as he signs. You can’t help but break out into a huge grin. You sign your name back and compliment him on his raw signing form.  

‘I am of hearing, though. So please feel free to talk, and I will sign back.’ You clarify to Erwin, the smile not falling from your face.  

“That sounds like a plan. Levi, stop hiding behind the counter and come say hi.” Erwin calls out, not bothering to look over his shoulder. You hear a grunt in response and not 10 seconds later, the barista stands cross armed next Erwin. He nods a hello to each of you.  

You knew he was shorter than you, at least a couple inches, based off the interaction at the counter earlier. But seeing him side by side with his friend was almost comical. But as short stature as he was, it did not keep him from holding himself with such authority. It made you nervous.  

‘Thank you for the tea, it was very good.’ You sign, your sister translating in real time for you.  

“Tch, are you sure? I saw you dump enough sugar in it to make it syrup.” Levi retorts dryly.  

That makes you smile sheepishly. His fixated stare unnerved you a little, but you stare back regardless. Now that he was closer, a glass case no longer between the both of you, your eyes traveled along his face in close inspection. 

He’s beautiful, you think to yourself. His features are sharp and angled. Steely gray eyes pronounced a permanent exhausted look. It was a shade of gray you’ve never seen before, and they were mesmerizing. As if he could feel you staring holes in his face, he flicks his eyes to the side, clearly uncomfortable. But you can’t help it, because really the most intriguing thing about him was not his metallic eyes. It was the scars that marred his porcelain skin.  

A couple of scars ran down the right side of his face. The prominent of the two trailed from the top right of his forehead all the way down to his chin, cutting into his right eye and both lips. You’re pretty sure his eye was quite damaged due to the slight muted discoloration of the eye color.  

He’s beautiful, you repeat to yourself. You glance over to Hange, and they just look over at you with a knowing look. You know she was just begging to ask Levi too, but she just shakes her head. So, you fold your hands together and pinch your lips together.  

“Well!” Hange yells out, breaking the silence. “This human really needs a drink. Let’s all go! Erwin, I demand you let me treat you to a couple drinks!” She wraps an arm around your shoulders and laughs.  

“A drink sounds fantastic; I will gladly take you up on that offer. Let me just close up rea-” He’s cut off by Levi raising both of his hands up in protest. You notice the two missing fingers on his right hand. The pointer and middle were gone. Whatever this man went through, you just had to know. But you toss those questions onto an ever-growing pile and bite your cheek.  

“Erwin, I can close up. You go ahead.” Your sister just smiles widely and practically jumped up and down. The blonde man just clapped his hand Levi’s shoulder and smiled at him.  

“Thank you. You’ll join us after? The usual place?” Levi just shrugs his shoulders in response.  

Part of you hoped he would. You couldn’t place a singular reason why though.  

.

Fifteen minutes later, the three of you found yourselves in a well-lit and very crowded bar. Somehow Erwin had snagged a table near the back wall. Heavy rock blares loudly from a live band maybe 20 feet away. Overwhelming was an understatement, but you grit your teeth and sit down on one of the stools.  

“Whatcha want, my darlings?!” Hange yells over the music, slapping both hands down on the table and staring at the both of you.  

“Whiskey neat, whatever they offer is fine.”  

You sign the words ‘apple’ and ‘juice’ followed by a ‘thank you’. You’ve never been one for a drink. While it was tolerable to be around, you’d rather not have to taste it if you could help it.  

Looking around, you see all manners of people surrounding you. Something about it makes your stomach turn but you shift in your seat to quell it down. You’re sure it’s only so crowded because of the prospect of a Friday night and the promise of no plans the following day. The town of Jinae was not anything special, but it was quaint. You and your sister found out quickly it was a place where everyone knew mostly everyone. After only settling down here from your hometown 5 months ago, you were still learning of all the local spots.  

From the looks of it, this bar was one of those. “The Scouts” was an inviting place, decorated with dark greens and wood tones. The walls were littered with many frames of a lot of different people. You imagine it might have been local residents in various locations of the town. All of the wood was worn down, so it was clear this place has been in business for a while. A neon sign hangs above the stage where the live band played, something that resembled blue and white wings. It makes you wonder what the significance is.  

Your thoughts are disturbed as a glass is placed in front of you. Realizing the dryness in your throat, you pick up the glass and take a big swig of the amber liquid. You’re met with a burning sensation, and you gag. This alerts Hange of the unfortunate mistake.  

“Ah I’m sorry my little strawberry!! They do look quite similar though, don’t they?” They switch the glasses quickly and laugh. You notice the very noticeable cup size differences between the two and you stare at her quizzically. “I may have taken a shot while at the bar, sorry.” she adds on. It makes you shake your head, but you grab her hand reassuringly and chuckle.  

‘I’m sorry.’ You sign at Erwin, and he just smiles back.  

“Not a problem. But I have to ask, how was it?” A bushy eyebrow raises at you in amusement.  

You just stick your tongue out and make a gagging gesture at him. You laugh though, not really upset.  

Two apple juices in, the live band ends. Hange and Erwin are very deep in conversation, which you suspect might be about Carly. You can’t really hear what’s being said though. With the absence of music, chatter quickly fills the air. Honestly it was really starting to get to you. So, after tapping on the pair’s shoulders and signing where you were going, you find yourself leaning over the guard rail just outside the bar’s door.  

The sun was already far gone. A crescent moon sits high in the sky and a smatter of stars surrounds it. The cold air felt very welcome on your very flushed face. You exhale a big sigh, which garners a puff of steam. It makes you laugh so you do it again. Then you start to wonder how long you might be able to last out here before getting frostbite when suddenly a body starts leaning against the rail next to you.  

With a start, you whip your head to face the newcomer. Instantly you relax at the sight of Erwin’s friend. He was adorned in a big peacoat and his casual slacks. A tan turtleneck sweater peaks out from the jacket’s collar. His face was flushed as well, no doubt from the cold.  

Levi. 

He wasn’t paying you any mind though, instead his gaze laid upon the sky above, at the stars. You wave at him anyways and offer a small smile. He glances at you with a side eye and returns a curt nod.  

Not one for words. 

So, you both stand there in silence, staring up at the twinkling lights above. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. Something about his presence radiated a sort of calm, and you were happy to bask in it.  

After a few minutes, he shifts his weight in your direction, so you face him. He’s staring up at you and it makes you swallow hard. His eyes glowed silver from the moonlight. Truly you have never been this fascinated with a person until now.  

“You like the stars.” It wasn’t a question, more like a statement.  

You nod in agreement, smiling to emphasize your love for them. He purses his lips at that. It seemed as if he wanted to say something else to that, but nothing came out. It just makes you frown a bit. You just have more questions that keep piling up. Everything about him just emanated mystery and it made you want to know all about him.  

‘Are you okay?’ You sign to him, exaggerating your frown to show your concern. You’re only met with a look of confusion. You forget that he does not know much if any sign. And you kick yourself for leaving your communication tools at home. To be fair though, this is not where you expected to be tonight.  

You then get an idea to use your phone to type to him but before you even reach into your pocket, you’re interrupted by a sudden blast of warm air as a couple stumbles out of the bar, both in a giggling fit as they cling to each other. They take off down the road, laughing even harder. The brief warm air makes you shiver, reminding you of the cold outside.  

As if thinking the same thing, Levi catches the door before it closes and holds it open for the both of you. You’re suddenly well aware of the very loud singing happening from within and your eyes widen at the familiarity of one of the voices. You and Levi make your way to the voices and are greeted with the sight of Erwin and Hange duetting a Backstreet Boys song.  

What a sight it was. The tall brunette, face flushed and glasses askew, had their arm around Erwin. He his blonde hair was quite tousled, and he looked like he was having the time of his life. They both swayed together as they belted out the lyrics. As if their smiles were contagious, you felt yourself grin. It was kind of cute. So, you pull out your phone and snap a quick picture, sure to show Hange in the morning. It was a good thing too, because the song ends right as you put your phone away in your bag. Levi clicks his tongue and huffs. You glance over at the noise and notice a small upturn to the corner of his scarred mouth. Noticing your gaze, his face vacates itself from any emotion as he stares back ahead.  

“Oi! Eyebrows!” He calls out to his friend. Levi starts making his way to the stage, walking with a slight limp. Yet another question to add onto the pile. “I’m gone for 45 minutes and you’re already singing.”  

“I’m fine! Just a couple drinks in.”  

You all make your way to the table you had laid claim to earlier. You survey the table and count at least 6 more glasses, not counting your two. It was hard to see who drank what.  

‘Are you okay?’ You sign to your sister, concern etched on your face. They just nod lazily and give a thumbs up with both hands. Levi is regarding you with a look of understanding, and it seems he realized that you had asked him outside.  Music starts playing over the speakers again, and people start making their way to the dance floor. Hange squeals and downs the rest of her drink quickly.  

“Erwin let’s go!” She grabs his arm, not waiting for a response. He gives a mock salute to the two of you and follows without question. Levi just clicks his tongue again and heads to the bar to get himself something. So, you plop yourself down on the stool and stare out into the room. Out of nervous habit you start fidgeting with the napkins in front of you. A moment later, Levi’s hobbling over with a tray of drinks. 

“I got the idiots some water, they look like they need it.” He places the glasses down with a thud, including one of his own housing some sort of caramel liquid. Then he’s sliding something over to you and you’re about to protest that you don’t drink but you realize it’s not a glass. It’s a notepad and pen.  

“If you need something, this might come in handy.” is all he says.  

You’re quick to show your appreciation with a bright smile. You also note to yourself that you could have very well have used your phone to communicate but you were not one to disregard someone’s thoughtfulness. It makes something bloom in your chest, warm and comforting.  

Your many years of not having a phone of course meant writing – a lot. Your handwriting evolved plenty with time so that meant it was extremely neat. It had to have been so that the reader would be able to read it without an issue. 

First you write your name, as you realize no one had really said it out loud while at the teashop. Following that you add ‘I think your shop is wonderful, and I really did enjoy the tea you made.’ You also want to jot down the questions from earlier that were still swimming in your mind, but you hold yourself back. You tell yourself maybe later, granted if there would even be a later.   

When angling the paper so he could see it, his eyes flit across the words quickly and you’re given a grunt in acknowledgement. Pulling back the notepad, you bite the inside of your cheek. While it wasn’t awkward being next to him, he sure made it hard to talk to. His cold demeanor gave you the feeling he wasn’t the type to talk about himself, especially with someone he just met. So, asking questions about him or his life was out the window. Likewise, he did not really seem interested in hearing your life story, not like you were planning to spill it anyways for fear of being met with disdain. You had plenty of experiences with that growing up.  

Tapping the pen against your chin, your eyes drift around the bar room. There a multitude of people lingering about, shouting over each other to be heard. A couple sits in a corner, whispering who knows what to each other. Both of their cheeks are flushed and eyes heavy with lust. A handful of people are on the dance floor grinding away, your sister and new friend sticking out like a sore thumb as they dance with reckless abandon. All of this gave you an idea, remembering something you’ve read before many moons ago. You start scrawling on the paper again.  

‘Are you a gambling man, Levi?’ 

You shift the pad back over to him and he glances down again after taking another sip of his spirit. He was holding his glass in a way you’d never seen before and honestly it was a little weird.  

“Tch, hardly. Why do you ask?” He looks hard at you as you scratch something else down.  

‘I propose a game to pass the time. Let’s make some bets about the random people in this room.’ 

He looks at you incredulously. You stand your ground, not averting your gaze even a little. When you don’t back down, he just scoffs and shakes his head at you.  

“I literally could not care less about these people,” he clicks his tongue. “But I suppose there’s not much else to do so I’ll bite.” Knocking back the rest of his drink, he moves around you to lean back against the wall so that he is facing the rest of the crowd. You shift so that you are doing the same. You don’t overlook the proximity to the shorter man, nor the fact that your arms are almost touching. You start to scribble once more.  

‘Winner gets to ask the loser one question.’ As his eyes fall on your words, he seems a little taken aback. Levi seems to think for a moment, like he’s weighing his pros and cons.  

“One non-personal question.” He amends. You both nod in agreement. So, your eyes travel around the room, looking for your first target. It falls on a group not so far away.  

‘I bet that gaggle of young girls over there are here for a bridal party.’

You point in the direction of the said group. Currently they were taking tequila shots, lime and all. All of them sparkled and were dressed up to the nines, save for the silly little hats adorning their heads. And they were having so much fun.  

“No way,” Levi scoffs, “That has to be a 21st birthday. They all look like babies.”  

Suddenly someone comes through a parting in the crowd with a tray of assorted colorful drinks garnished with cute little accessories. They all yell in excitement at the sight. One of the girls raises her glass and starts shouting.  

“To Estelle! May your married life be full of infinite love, happiness, and orgasms!” They all cheer and take big gulps of their drinks, followed by more giggling.  

Levi glances art you, his gray eyes dull in the dim bar light. An eyebrow lifts at you as well.  

“How did you know?” 

You do a sweeping gesture starting from one shoulder down to the opposite hip. He looks back over to the women and conveniently the soon-to-be-bride had faced your direction. She was indeed wearing a white sash sporting the word ‘BRIDE’ in bright pink letters. He huffs as he rolls his eyes, and you smirk at him in return. You press the pad over to him, already equipped with your question.  

Levi scoffs at your question. As promised, it wasn’t very personal. You figured ice breaker like questions were a good start. But his pause made you question if this was a good idea, you didn’t want to run him off or make him uncomfortable. Then he clicks his tongue, and his face softens ever so slightly.  

“My favorite hobby, huh? It would have to be cleaning.” He simply states. 

Cleaning?  

‘Like mopping, dusting, all that jazz?’  

“Yeah, it brings me peace. I like the control. Plus, I can't stand filthy things, people, or places. It’s repugnant.” He scrunches his nose at the last statement. A laugh bubbles up and you can’t help but let it loose. You’re shot with a glare and a sharp tone.  

“Funny?”  

You shake your head no and smile lightly while your hands move adeptly on the pad.  

‘Not funny, just amusing because it’s not something I would have expected. It’s different. If it makes you happy then it is an admirable hobby.’ 

Levi’s looking away from you now. If it wasn’t so dim, you would have seen there was a light dusting of pink color his cheeks and ears. He clears his throat and scans the room for his victim. His eyes land on the couple in the back corner whispering to each other. He notices their not-so-subtle hand movements as they felt each other up. Nodding in their direction, he looks back over to you, leaning close so you can hear.  

“I bet that couple will get up in the next 3 minutes and excuse themselves to somewhere private.” Your eyes travel in that direction, only to look away hastily at such an intimate scene. You’re not able to think of a counter-bet because honestly, you’re thinking the same thing. Your eyes settle back to his face, but he’s already looking back at the couple. If he noticed you staring, he didn’t say. Suddenly his face is filled with a satisfied look, only to be replaced quickly with a look of horror. You follow his gaze again, afraid of what you might see.

Fortunately, it’s nothing risqué, as you catch the tail end of the couple slipping into one of the public, unmarked restrooms. But the thought of their future actions was enough to gross you out. Looking back at Levi, you scrunch your face up in disgust. He nods in understanding.  

“This is why we don’t use public restrooms, especially in a bar.” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his good hand. “When I said somewhere private, I meant like a residence or something. Filthy animals, unbelievable. They better scrub that bathroom down. Maybe I should tell the bartender when they’re done. Maybe I should help clean.” 

His retorts crack you up, your shoulders bouncing from silent laughter. He just stares at you impassively as he runs his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face.  

“Well, it’s not like we should ruin their fun. Anyways I suppose I won. Let’s see... what’s your favorite color?” 

You part your lips, dumbfounded. This was never an easy question, as you found joy in a lot of different colors. You bite your lip and start writing, but after a couple minutes Levi rips the pad from your hands out of impatience.  

salmon 

turquoise? 

canary yellow! 

orange 

dark forest gre- 

He just looks at you in alarm.  

“Just pick one.” he scolds. 

You snatch the pad back and scribble down, ‘It’s not that simple!’  

“It is to me. White, easy.” You just stare right back at him, not believing what you just heard. Out of all the many shades and hues out there, this man decides the color white.  

‘Why?’ 

“It’s clean.” is the only response you get.  

It makes sense, you think. But seriously, this man was so weird. But like you said earlier, it was different and that made it refreshing to you. You start searching for your next bet.  

As if in a scene from a movie you’ve seen a dozen times came to life, your eyes snap to a lone woman sitting at the bar, nursing a drink and playing on her phone. A couple seats down, you spot a few men chatting. One of the men is staring hard at the very oblivious woman. You nudge Levi with your elbow, not unnoticing the slight flinch from your touch. You point to the scene, and he is quick to understand.  

“I bet when he walks over to her, she’ll get up and leave.” He says confidently.  

Trusting your instincts, you scrawl back quickly as you notice the man started making his way towards the woman. Sticking your tongue out at him, you angle the pad to him so he could see.  

‘Absolutely not. She’ll tell him off right away.’  

To both yours and his surprise, not one moment later she throws the rest of her drink contents onto the man’s head. She gathers her belongings, throws a wad of bills on to the bar, then stomps out of the establishment. The rejected man staggers back to his friends, and they applaud him for his supposed gall. This event left you both stunned. There’s a moment of pause where you and Levi just stare at each other before all hell breaks loose as he starts talking and you start scribbling furiously.  

“She walked away, I win.”  

‘She threw that drink on him, that’s practically telling him off. And that happened before any walking off.’  

“That hardly counts, no words were used.” He scoffs and folds his arms across his chest as he stares hard at you. You weren’t sure if the indignation was real or not, but it was evident in his face.   

‘Words are not always needed to convey intent.’ You shoot back at him, shifting your weight to tap your foot defiantly. You would know this of course.  

This makes Levi pause. He opens his mouth to say something but then Erwin and Hange came crashing into the little bubble you two had made. Suddenly the sounds of clinking glasses and mindless chatter came rushing in and you took a step back.  

“Um, I think Hange might have had a little too much tonight.” Erwin says, to which your attention is drawn to a very drunk Hange. They were a blubbering, sobbing mess. Whining about things that ranged from Carly to her work stress and everything in between. Your sister rarely got this drunk, but you imagine the events from earlier might have been her breaking point. This was a sign to get her home.  

You hastily round the table to wrap her arm around you and prop her up. Then after whipping a $20 out of your purse and throwing it on the table in front of the boys, you give them a grateful smile and sign to Erwin.  

‘Thank you both for tonight. She and I had a lot of fun. But I need to get her home before she gets worse.’ As if on cue, they let out a loud wail and start sobbing into your shoulder. You shift your body to hold them closer so that you don’t drop them. Erwin grabs your $20 and shoves it back in your purse before zipping it up. He had left you no time to protest as he places a large hand on your shoulder and stares intensely at you.  

“Please, let me take care of this. Tell them this was an exceptional time. And to please stop by the café again, we owe each a good, sober talk.” His bright blue eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at you warmly. “It was a pleasure meeting you too. I hope you join Hange on the café visits as well. I think Levi has warmed up to you just nicely.” He wiggles an eyebrow at his friend. Levi just shoves him back and rolls his eyes.  

“Tch, fuck off. She’s alright, I guess.” He’s staring at you now, not as cold as before. “You owe me an answer next time we meet.”  

You purse your lips at him and shake your head in disagreement. 

‘I totally won that, don’t even think otherwise.’ You jot down lazily on the notepad still on the table. It wasn’t as neat, but you were propping up a whole human, you couldn’t help it.   

“Are you sure you’re safe to get home okay? We can he-” You cut Erwin off with a wave of the hand. Their spot of choice was actually very lucky, as you only live a few minutes away. And to be honest, you needed the cold air. So, you sign a quick goodbye to your new friends and make your way out. 

Walking down the snowy sidewalk, you pat Hange’s head as she grumbles about random things. She opted to walk herself, but you kept your hand in theirs to lead them in the right direction. She only stumbled a few times but overall, you were able to keep a steady pace. You note that before you left, her glass of water had been untouched, so you make a mental reminder to hydrate her before throwing her in bed.  

‘Alcohol was not kind to those in their 30s’ you heard their voice say in the back of your mind.  

As your steps left crunching noises in their wake, you peer up at the moon and glittering stars. A certain raven-haired and silver-eyed man etched in your brain. You wonder how soon it will be before seeing him again.  

‘Levi’ you sign to yourself with a free hand. A smile cemented to your face the whole way home.

☾ Next Chapter: December

[lil-spider]

So Damn Pretty

Chapter 10

Part 9 : Part 11

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter X Female Reader

Summary: Johnny is sex starved and you’re very attractive, so attractive that he doesn’t want to kill you. Instead he finds ways to keep you around longer.

Note: The story is coming closer to completion but that’s okey cause I’m gonna be in this fandom forever even if it has died a little lol. I’ve got plenty of Johnny fics planned :3. This chapter is for those who have been so patient! Love you all😘

Warning: This is 18+ and please do not read if your sensitive to heavy descriptions of non/con and violence. Including bondage, blood, gore, assault, objectification and unsafe sex. For those who don’t mind, I hope you enjoy.

I stare vacantly at the couple of eggs on my plate, not feeling hungry for them. I sink further into my seat and take a glance over at Johnny. Its just him and me sitting at the dining table; the rest of the family have already finished up their breakfast, but it seems he has an appetite this morning, digging in his second plate of crispy bacon. I look back at the two eggs; things in pairs have been bothering me lately. It seems my mind still can't get over those two girls. I thought I would be over it; at the time, it didn’t bother me, but the guilt comes in waves. Crashing heavily against my consciousness. I try to keep it down, not letting it depress me. I've gained trust from the family, and I don’t want to ruin it with my emotions. 

 

With their trust comes more leniency. So much so that Drayton brings me along to the gas station, helping him out with whatever he tasks me with. 

 

A surprising amount of locals come by. They didn’t question me; they just went about their own business. I didn't know how to go about it. I guess no one back home really cares that I'm missing. Even though I'm somewhat content with my current situation, I can't help but feel sad. No one bothered at all to look for me. I know I didn't have much family, but Nate and Jessica sure did; both came from big families. There should be people searching for them. 

 

I quickly moved on from those thoughts, especially now that it's too late to go back. It's easier to just focus on other things. Even if there isn't much to focus on,.

 

At least today I can spend the rest of my time with Johnny out in the field. I love keeping him company while he works on the cars, and sometimes I help out by passing him tools or handing him a rag.

I glance over at him again while I smoosh around my runny eggs with my fork. He shoots me a small grin. I was going to smile softly back at him until a sudden shot of nausea hit me. Instead, I must have given him an ugly face because he looked at me with a raised brow. 

 

Salvia starts poring up into my mouth, and with panic, I sit up, making the chair scratch on the floor, and bolt past Johnny to the front door, slamming it open. No longer able to hold it down, I grip the veranda's handrails tightly, lean over, and vomit my breakfast onto the poor bushes below.

 

"Ya' alright, darlin'?" Johnny asks as he walks up behind me, confused. He sees what is happening and places a large hand on my back and rubs it in soft circles while I spew out misery. Thinking I was finished, I turned around to face him, smiling wearily, but a second punch of nausea came flying in, and I turned back to vomit in the bushes again.

 

“I’ll go get Sissy.” He says this, grimacing at the sight of me puking, unsure of what to do.

 

He leaves, and in a quick minute, a concerned Sissy comes with a damp hand towel, and she guides me to take a seat on the white bench, dabbing my forehead while I try not to throw up straight bile.

 

"Oh, pumpkin, this is not good," Sissy worries, still wiping my face. Johnny comes back outside, also looking concerned. 

 

“Take her to the living room, Johnny; she needs to lay down.” Sissy tells him, feeling my forehead and checking for my temperature. I’m not sure if I’m sick; I don’t feel hot. 

 

Johnny, grumbling at being told what to do, still picks me up bridal style, carrying me effortlessly to the living room, and lays me down gently on the cowhide-covered couch.

 

“What’s wrong with her?” Johnny asks, turning to Sissy, wanting an answer to my sudden sickness. She places an old, rusty bucket down next to me, just in case I get sick again. 

 

"Well, she ain’t burnin' up. Maybe it’s something she ate.” She’s replies are also confused about my sudden sickness. 

 

I lay there on the couch, trying to keep whatever wants to come up down while Sissy and Johnny keep me company for a bit. It’s comforting to see how much they seem to care for me. However, after under an hour of resting and sipping on some water, I feel much better.

 

“I'm feeling better.” I said this to both of them, who looked surprised and relieved about my comeback.

 

“Somethin' must've upset ya' then.” She reasons. With that little incident over with, the rest of the day goes by as normal without any sign of sickness. It must have been something I ate. 

 

That’s what I believed until the very next morning, and then the next thing happened on the third day. Sissy keeps my hair away from my face while rubbing my back. 

 

It's another morning, and I'm back outside vomiting; it seems to be my usual puke spot outside on the veranda. 

 

 I know I've made everyone else concerned now. I can hear Nubbins questioning Johnny about why I'm throwing up so much. But he wouldn't get a solid answer from him, as he is just as clueless about my ongoing vomiting. I don’t understand either; at first, I thought I was dying, but what Sissy came up with seemed worse than dying. Her sweet voice contradicts the heavy words coming out of her mouth. I feel like I've been strapped to an anchor, and it's dragging me down, deep below. 

 

 “I think you may be pregnant, sugar; you ain’t got no fever, and sure, dang, know Johnny hasn’t been innocent with you." She explains smoothing my messy hair. 

 

Now I feel like I’m really drowning. Oh, my good I’m pregnant, oh fucking hell. It explains everything: the weight gain, my emotions playing up, and of course the morning sickness. My legs start to wobble. Holy shit, I’m pregnant with Johnny’s baby. 

Sissy notices my shaky form and decides to help me back inside. Holding my arms steady, she shuts the door behind us with her foot while leading me to the sofa. As I sit, she’s skipped off to grab a glass of lemonade while I try to calm down. Just as quickly as she left, she came back with a glass of delicious cold lemonade. Sissy places the drink in my shaky hands as I take a sip. Its sweet yet bitter flavour soothes me. 

 

“When I was in California, some of her sisters from the ranch always threw up every morning when they were pregnant. It's called morning sickness, and it's always a telltale sign that you're going to have a baby.” She explains joyfully, sitting down right next to me and giving me an excited hug. 

 

She then claps her hands together cheerfully. "Oh, how joyous a little baby!" She throws her thin arms around me again in another big hug while I sit frozen, completely gobsmacked by the revelation that I'm pregnant. I guess I must have forgotten how babies were made while I’ve been here; Johnny and I have been going at it enough. There is no denying that.

 

I placed my lemonade down on the coffee table and placed a hand over my belly. Johnny's baby is growing inside me and will later give birth to his baby. 

Sissy stands back up, going over to a sleeping grandpa. I didn't realise he was there. But Sissy, with all her excitement, accidentally woke him up, to which she apologised by telling him about the new member of the family and how he’s going to be a grandpa again. How many generations old is this baby going to make grandpa? I wonder.

Grandpa Sawyer just let out these wistful groans in reply. Sissy explains that he’s excited for a new grandchild. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to understand him. 

Then Johnny comes stomping in, shirtless and sweaty from being outside in the Texas heat. "What’s all the squealing you’re making? I can hear it from outside." He asks, annoyed. 

I would've hoped Sissy would keep my pregnancy to herself until I was ready to tell her, but instead she just blatantly spills out to him that I'm pregnant. 

“Bout’ time.” He says plainly, I gap at his laid-back attitude on this situation. He turns to my surprised face, and he smirks. He inches closer, bending down so his face is in front of mine. 

“I told ya I wanted to be a dad, didn’t I? It’s why I've been working so hard on you.” His smirk widens as my face flushes red in embarrassment. Have I been baby trapped?

The day goes by like usual, even though I'm an emotional, vomiting mess. Now during dinner, and for some odd reason, I never get sick eating supper. The smell of any other food makes me queasy, except cooked meat. My mouth starts to drool when I smell it being cooked. Just barely being able to keep anything else down has made me famished, and tonight, Drayton's chilli has never tasted better. Going in for seconds and now thirds.

“I should've made extra batches just for the way you eat, girl.” Drayton commented, slightly impressed with how much I can put down. 

“It’s just so good.” I moan out with a mouthful of chilli.

“It's better than good; it's the best chilli in the whole damn county.” Cook proudly states, sitting up a bit straighter.

“Oh god, enough of the chilli talk.” Johnny groans out, already frustrated with the conversation.

“Y-yeah enough!” Nubbins joins in, trying to entice a fight. 

"Oh, shut it; look at the girl; she loves it.” He points over to me, still stuffing my face with utter pleasure. 

“No more of this arguing! Y/N is in a delicate situation, and I want none of ya' messing that up!” Sissy puts her bit in, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. Ironically, this is her way of enticing an argument.

“What delicate situation, girl? She's just hungry.” Drayton asks, confused by Sissy’s words. 

“She’s pregnant, and ya' can't do anything about' it.” Sissy again spills the beans on my pregnancy, but now to the rest of the family. 

I look over at Johnny puasing my eating to see his reaction to Sissy not being able to keep anything to herself. “They'll find out sooner or later.” He just sinks further back into the chair, crossing his muscular arms under his chest, waiting for the onslaught of words from Drayton. 

Bubba, who is next to me, is the first to react. He places his large hand on top of his head and pats it, like if I were a puppy. He groans gleefully, I guess, letting me know that he is happy with the new addition. He can be a real gentle giant when there isn't anyone to murder. 

Cook has gone absolutely red as a tomato, while nubbins start snickering. "Oooh, J-Johnny, I-I-is in trouble.” It seems the night has gone his way for wanting drama.

"God, Damnit, boy, I knew this would happen. You can’t control yourself, can you? Always chasing tail, and now a baby.” Drayton stood up at the start of his rant but now has sat down, looking almost deafted.

“Your mother will go ballistic once she finds out.” Drayton points his finger at Johnny, warning him.

“Shut it, old man! You got nothing to worry about; it’s bout time; we’re all getting old, and we gotta keep the family going.” He counters Drayton's words. 

It looked like Nubbins wanted to say more, but with Johnny quickly standing up and leaving, it was pointless. 

Dinner practically finished up after that fight, and I just sat there silently, not sure what to do. I was supposed to help clean up, but I sneakily decided to go find Johnny. Anyway, with all the commotion still going on with Nubbins and Sissy messing with Drayton, it’s best I stay away. 

I check the front veranda; Johnny has a few smoke spots he always goes to: the front, the back garden, and his shed. But luckily, my first guess was right, as I found him sitting on the outdoor bench. While walking to him, he quickly puts on his smoke, squishing it under his boot. “Shouldn’t smoke around you anymore.” He grins at me, and just as I take a seat, he places his warm hand on my stomach. 

“The second I saw you, I knew you were the perfect girl to have my kid. So fucking pretty, I'm going to look after the both of you, I promise.” 

His words send tingles all throughout your body; it’s electrifying. You place your hand over his, smiling back at him.

“Soon you’re going to get real big, darlin’; ya tits are going to get nice and fat too.” He teases with humour, but a familiar, hungry look starts building in his eyes. 

As he inches closer to me, his large hand moves away from mine and glides up, grabbing a breast. He squeezes it firmly before starting to massage it. His warm breath is on my neck as he kisses right below my jaw. Wetness begins to pool in my panties. 

“Run up the stairs to your room and undress before I take you right here.” As much as I wanted to tease him, it’s better to listen, or he really would take me here, in any position too. He gets very creative when he's horny. 

I get up and leave, going to my room just as instructed. I closed the door behind me and set myself on the bed to undress. I wore a blue sundress today, so I just unzipped the side and let it slip right off. Leaving me in my white panties. Even though it didn’t take me long to undress, it wasn't quick enough for Johnny. He was already here, striding in and locking the door behind him, already semi-undressed too.

“Come on, darlin', only your panties left to go; take em off for me.” I happily obliged, hooking my fingers into the side, purposefully bending over, and sliding them down. 

I look back to see the bulge in his jeans while he takes them off. Now he is just as naked as me. I will never get tired of looking at his body. His large muscles, pecs, sprinkled on chest hair leading down to his happy trail—the sight of his scars always makes me throb. Fuck, he is gorgeous.

With my ogling, I fail to notice him getting closer. Wrapping his large arms around me, he whispers into my ear, “I want you to take a seat on my face while keeping your mouth busy with my cock.” He groans before going to lay down on the bed. This is a new position, and with only a little hesation, I gingerly climb over him, placing my legs on the side of his head. Before I sink down, he grabs my hips roughly, bringing my swollen heat to his mouth. 

I gasp as his tongue slides back and forth over my clit. I lean further down, grinding my wetness along his mouth needing more. His impressive cock, comes into view, precum leaking out; it’s red and aching to be sucked. 

I lick his tip timidly before taking his whole length, making a sloppy mess while focusing on his head, I hear him groan as I go deeper. His grunting sends small, delightful vibrations along my clit.

My muffled moans fill the room as he holds me in place, my aching pussy being devoured while I simultaneously suck off Johnny. I hallow out my cheeks, pinch my lips, and let my tongue slide along his shaft. Working extra hard to get him to finish first. 

It's difficult; he knows exactly how to get me off. He knows where I'm most sensitive and what feels best. My plans to make him cum first are starting to falter; I'm struggling to even keep myself steady. I put my tired arms on top of his muscular thighs, giving them a rest. I take a deep breath and continue to encompass his cock, swirling my tongue along the base. I’m a little sloppy with the rhythm now, but I don’t think he cares. 

I can feel my orgasm building as Johnny doesn’t even stop for air, still sucking and licking my clit with undying hunger. His grip on my hips still remains strong, making me unable to pull away. 

My limbs are starting to become sore. Needing him to finish, I start sucking his cock faster, my salvia drenching him, making it easier for it to slide along my tongue. My moans turn to whines as my own orgasm is right on the edge. 

I feel him twitch in my mouth while his groans continue from below. "Fuck, I’m gonna cum." I choked out, stopping to take a deep breath. 

Johnny slides his hands along my thighs as his tongue stays strong, massaging my clit, while keeping a steady pace.

I take his throbbing length back into my mouth right before my orgasm hits. The force of it makes my legs turn to jelly while I moan incoherently around him. I try to move away, my clit becoming increasingly sensative, but his hands grip back to my hips, holding me captive while he moves his hot tongue in my cunt, licking up my juices as he thrusts himself deeper down my throat. Not letting me until he cums. 

I’m a whimpering mess; my thighs squeeze his face while I lick and sucking, getting him closer so my poor pussy can have a break. 

My efforts were deemed successful as his cock started to twitch and stiffen. With my last lick, he spills himself. He groans as his cock pulsates while I swallow his whole load. With revenge, I continue to suck him, knowing he's going sensitive. He hisses and quickly pulls me off.

“Naughty girl,” he chuckles, slapping my ass hard.

I yelp from the harsh slap and roll my body to the side, recovering from the intense orgasm. Johnny, too, lays still panting. I move up and lay my head on his chest. He throws an arm around me as we both relax into each other. 

Before I knew it, I'd fallen asleep on his chest. 

It's in the middle of the night that I wake up to long, thick fingers inside me, thrusting in and out slowly. 

“You awake, baby?” Johnny asks, now teasing my hard clit with his thumb. I moan out in response, gripping the bedsheets.

"Yeah, does that feel good?" His whispers, his face moving into the crook of my neck, his hardness pressing up against me.

"Ah-ah.” I try to say yes, but it’s morphed into moans.

“Fuck, your tight baby girl, gonna' feel so good when I put it in. He groans while I spread my legs further apart from his words. I'm going to cum soon with the way he’s going.

Instead, he pulls his fingers back, slides over on top, and plunges his hard cock inside me. He slips his wet fingers into his mouth, tasting myself, while his cock goes further deep inside. 

I groan out while he stretches me. A mixture of sleepiness and arousal makes me clench around him. Johnny, in turn, pulls out his fingers, replacing them with his tongue and pushing it into my accepting mouth as he starts a fast rhythm, pounding into me.

All noise is blocked out, except for my moans and the slapping sound of his cock fucking in and out of my sopping hole. 

“I'm going to keep you on my cock forever.” He groans into my ear, grabbing onto my swinging chest. Groping the fatty flesh.

I whimper at the thought of being his cock slave, as if I weren’t already. 

He sits up, holding my hips tightly in one hand, and as the other goes to rub my clit, I hold my tits, stopping their swinging from his hard thrusts.

“I'm going to be full of milk soon.” I moan out, teasing him, thrusting back against his cock. I felt his cock twitch as he groans, knowing he's imaging my tits spilling milk. The hand that was squeezing my hip goes to squish a boob, swatting my hand away and pinching the nipple.

I throw my head back in ecstasy and wrap my legs around Johnny’s waist, getting closer to my second orgasm of the night. 

“Ya' gonna' cum on my cock, sweetheart?” He teases, rubbing my clit achingly slow.

I whine as he also starts to stop his thrusting, keeping me on edge. Repeatedly pulling himself fully out of my cunt and slowly pushing back in. 

Not giving in to his teasing, Johnny takes his cock and starts jerking it, leaving me feeling empty and frustrated. 

“Use your words, darlin'.” He groans out, now stopping his rubbing on my clit, only focusing on getting himself off. 

“Please! Please, I want to cum.” I moan wantonly, fucking desperate for him to continue.

It’s not enough; he is still waiting. 

 

“please daddy.” I moan, testing out a new nickname.

It does the trick as he groans deeply, gliding his hardness back inside me and thrusting away.

Relief floods me when his cock goes back into my aching heat. I’m so close to finishing. 

“I-I-I’m cumming!” I cry out as my pussy squeezes him tightly. My orgasm sends Johnny over the edge as he cums just as quickly inside me.

“Fuck yeah, baby, cum on daddy’s cock.” He moans out, shoving himself deeper. 

I whimper from the overly sensative feeling of being filled and having two orgasms in a short amount of time. 

It’s been a few weeks, and my bump has become more visible. It seems each day I just keep getting bigger and bigger. It does help my confidence that Johnny just can’t seem to keep his hands off me since I’ve become pregnant. It’s like the animal inside of him has changed. Becoming more protective and sex-hungry.

I won’t lie. Being pregnant has been a nice change; I’m doing less labour. Sissy considers me too delicate, and she doesn't want to stress the baby. Drayton has even been forcing Nubbins to actually clean up the messes he makes; he didn’t listen until Sissy and Johnny got on his ass about it too. Three against one, it took him to actually listen. It’s mainly bone scraps he leaves around, always making new traps. He even showed me how he makes him; it was impressive, especially how well they worked on the animals nearby. He explains that it was Grandpa who taught him everything he knows, from killing, slicing, and cleaning his blade, "back when Grandpa was still in his killing form." He told me enthusiastically. 

It’s hard to picture Grandpa in his so-called 'killing form', even if it was years ago. He's just so old and motionless, but with the way he enjoys his blood, I can understand that he may have been more ruthless than anyone here. 

Having less work has made me bored, only spending time in the lounge. I’ve been trying to find my stuff to do. I have no more clothes to patch up or anything to make. And I’ve cleaned so much that there is barely anything else to clean. I need to find something to do before I go crazy.

Johnny has noticed me being a little slumped, so he decided to bring inside some dead rabbits and teach me how to skin them. How lovey. Though it did cure my boredom, even if it was gross, and he did a much better job than me, he made it look so effortless. It was like it was his thousandth time doing it. Unfortunately, it probably was. During my time here, I learned that Johnny is an efficient hunter. The skulls of the animals and other people he killed are used as decorations in the house. 

Those rabbits that we skinned went into a crockpot meal with mashed potatoe; Sissy made it with a bunch of herbs and veggies from her greenhouse. You can't get this type of fresh food in the city. Not including people. 

I decided to try and work on my baking skills, asking Drayton if he could bring back some condensed milk so I could try to make some caramel fudge. He agreed; we already have butter and sugar, so it wasn't too much of an ask, and let’s just say my caramel fudge was a hit. Everyone has a surprising sweet tooth. Maybe not too surprising, as the pantry was stocked with tubs of chocolate drink powder. 

So now during the day, to help my boredom, I've been baking treats and deserts, and it's nice that everyone likes my baking. Even Johnny, who seemed like someone who hates sugar, eats up the sweets much like everyone else. Sissy always gets excited to see what I've made for dessert. She tells me it's become her favourite part of the day. 

Time goes by, and so I get even bigger. Including my chest, I think it's doubled in size; it’s embarrassing how big I’m getting. It doesn’t help that Nubbins snickers around me, poking fun at the size of his chest; he called me a cow one day, and sweet Bubba, who would do anything for his family, smacked Nubbins really hard on the back, making the lanky man tumble embarrassingly forward on the ground. which I've believed humbled him, as I got no more teasing after that.

Some of the spare clothes I’ve had that were modest are now very form-fitting and showy, just because of my growing size. Thankfully, there are old male button-up shirts that I can use to give myself some dignity. 

I don't even know why I worry about my dignity when I let Johnny strip me naked and put me in compromising positions. Thanks to my growing breasts, Johnny couldn’t seem to hold himself back, and now we've been fucking everywhere, more than before.

One moment I’m relaxing outside in the middle of the day, the next I’m nude, riding his cock on the old, ripped-out car seats out back near his shed. I have to hold on to his shoulders tightly because he's making me go. Moving me up and down. He does it purposefully because he likes watching my tits bounce. 

Being pregnant has made everything more sensitive. So when he places his mouth over my nipple and pinches the other, I almost cum. At least fucking outside, I get to be loud. I just hope no one is watching. 

But as I get closer to cumming, the less I care if anyone can see. I’m enjoying myself. So I throw my head back, and I grind down on Johnny while I peak. Milking his cock through my orgasm, he squeezes my chest, holds me down tightly, and fills me up with his hot cum.

Just as my chest grows, so does my ass, so a day later I’m on all fours, holding the headboard for dear life, trying to keep my moans low as Johnny slams into me from behind. He smacks my ass as I thrust back onto him. He grips the fat hard. Making sure this time I finish from his cock alone. Just as I came, he pulls out and pumps himself until he shoots his load over my clit  and pussy, making a mess. He reasons that since I'm pregnant, he can decorate me with his cum. He's especially loves shooting his cum over my face and chest. It's nice that he makes sure I have an orgasm right before he does.

Yes, all my assets may be growing; but most importantly, my stomach is too, With the baby getting bigger, Johnny's softer side comes out.

So now he has a pillow under my hips while he slowly ruts his cock while softly sucking my nipple. He slides his hand over my body, feeling all the curves. He slides his hands down and up my leg till he brings it over to my clit, rubbing it in delicate circles. I groan; going slow is new, but fuck, it still feels good to get pampered like this. 

 

“We’re not fucking like this all the time, are we?” I'm still addicted to the hard and fast fucking Johnny is known for. 

"Nah, Darlin, I just like the way you glow tonight and want it slow.” He says this while ironically speeding up, causing me to whimper.

As my orgasm gets closer, I hold his face in my hands and stare into his handsome eyes. “I love you, Johnny.” I pant out as I cum around him.

“I love you too, doll,” he responds, filling me up with his cum and kissing me hard.

[squerlly]

do you possibly maybe JUST MAYBE write Lute x Demon!reader JUST ASKING FOR A FRIEND my friend would love a story of the goobers (I’m the friend)

-🪿anon

I write pretty much anything so I would be happy to do this for you, no specifications on the gender or type of story you want but I will do GN demon reader x lute head cannons SFW and NSWF to add a bit of spice since updates on my blog have been slow, mostly because I have been out sick and just procrastinating but more content is being made as we speak so enjoy!!!

(GN! Demon reader) x Lute -SFW/NSFW-

-SFW-

Lute despises demons naturally but after running into you during extermination day, she made one big exception that might cost her job, but love makes people do crazy things...

with Lute's rough personality, she can be really bad with communication and feelings but always makes an effort to show affection, even in the most strangest ways.

In Lute's mind calling you an idiot is like saying I love you and letting you help preen her wings lets you know she trusts you, after all her wings are sensitive and having you get those hard to reach places makes flying much more comfortable.

when she comes down for secret visits she always brings back little things from heaven that aren't available in hell, who new sweets in heaven taste so good, they even have rainbow sprinkles!

-NSFW-

when Lute sneaks out of heaven to meet up with you, as an exterminator she knows every little hiding spot perfect for some quick fun~

Lute would let you bite and mark all over her, if she can't take you with her, she definitely has something to remember you by.

as someone who doesn't get a lot of credit and recondition for her work Lute doesn't get compliments or praise, so when you whisper sweet nothing in her ear and praise her she will melt into mush and do anything to here you say she's a good girl~

had been trained for battle and endurance, Lute has incredible stamina and can go for hours adding to pleasure of rough handling.

angel blood is not common to come by, and according to the local cannibals', its quite the delicacy. Lute happy to give you a taste, lets you drink as much of her sweet savory blood as you want, leaving you drunk and craving more. the feeling of your tongue lapping the literal liquid gold makes her core heat up, a sensation that leaves her soaked.

IM SO SORRY!!! for leaving you all for almost a whole weak, iv been so tired and sick. I'm also sorry if this request feels lazily written. request and chapters will be coming out a bit slower until I feel a bit better and have more time but I will try to get more content out faster. thank you all for your patients I love you all have a good day/night!!!

-squerlly

@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz

for more content and chapters please click this masterlist

[shrenvents]

Miracle Aligner

Alex Turner Series

Series Masterlist

Summary: Who knew Alex Turner, frontman to one of the greatest bands of this generation had the worst luck in love. As a romantic who's quite familiar with heartbreak, Turner's grown sick of looking for a spark that will eventually burn him. So, while visiting a local pub, how was he supposed to know that a drunken Tuesday night, would change his sombre tune forever?

Inspired by the album Everything You've Come To Expect. Mature content (sexual acts, language) Original character.

Chapter one:

Aviation

Toronto, November 15, 2015

5:57 pm

Alex's POV

"That's enough Turner!" Zach yells over the various clamouring instruments. "You've been working on these songs for weeks and this was the best you got mate?" Jaime continues with a snort. "Yeah?" I huff, rolling my eyes.

Jaime and Zach exchange a knowing look before Zach pipes up again. "You know what Al? Why don't you call it a night, maybe go out, meet a few girls, have fun." He then glances to my right. "Miles you stay and finish your set."

"What's this?" I jest, bewildered by my bandmates.

"Sorry Al, the songs you've been writing these days just aren't the Shadow Puppets brand," Jaime trails off, looking more empathetic than his counterpart. My brows crease further into my eyelids and I dully unclasp the guitar strap from my shoulder. "My songs don't fit the 'brand' of my band?" I glare at them in disbelief as the two share another look.

"Sorry Al, but your material has been all doom and gloom these days." Miles now exclaims while avoiding my troubled expression. He pauses before continuing. "Your greatest hits are love songs, passionate shite." Miles's eyes then connect with my own, and I finally understand what he's implying. "It's been a while mate." His last statement was the final blow.

That's right, I haven't been with anyone for months, romantically, physically, and everybody knows it. These days I just find romance to be tiresome. Even a shag doesn't seem to excite me much anymore. I've simply gone mad, that's what it is.

Though they seem to have me all figured out, I refuse to give in to their remarks. "You lot have lost it. I'll come back when you've come to your senses!" I bark out while snatching up my guitar and jacket. The boy's faint snickers fill the room as I take off towards the door. "Aw c'mon, Al!" Jaime carries out, stifling his laughter. I slam the door behind me with unnecessary force, utterly infuriated.

Instantly after leaving the studio, I feel the blistering Canadian winter encase my narrow frame. "Bugger," I snit before whipping out my phone, in hopes an Uber would usher me away from this frost. To my dismay, because of the excessive snowfall, transport was either delayed or unavailable, and I had no interest in sticking around roadside. So, I switched to searching for a local pub, racing out of the cold.

...

After a numbing 10-minute journey, I reached a pub called Les Cactus and ripped open its wooden entrance, embracing its heat. Whilst I take a seat on the nearest bar stool, a flash of red catches the corner of my eyes. A waitress with her back turned serves drinks to a group of men who gawk at her with an unreserved fancy. Momentarily, I admire her long, fiery hair that flows down her fit backside. Fortunately, the incoming bartender removes me from my fairly pervy thoughts. "What can I get for ya buddy?" The bartender ranks down my features, odd excitement filling his own. "You got any Bulleit?" He smirks.

"Sure thing." He spins away from me, before quickly rotating back and whispering for my ears only, "Big fan by the way." I smile politely with a nod as he disappears into the bar to prepare my drink. My gaze returns to the space where the redhead once stood, which is now vacant. "Here ya go. Let me know if you need anything else!" The bartender ponders shortly before speaking, "My name's Mickey by the way." He places my bourbon down with an oddly suggestive wink.

8:24 pm

"Maybe consider spacing out your next drink Alex. I get you're a millionaire and money ain't a thing," Mickey bobs his head, taking note of appearance, "but you're kinda overdoing it buddy," he finishes. I scoff at his smirk and slap a bill on the countertop. "Another." My face and tone drop in an attempt to be taken seriously, but my drunken command doesn't detour Mickey's delight.

"You're the boss."

"Uh-uh, that's at least his sixth drink this hour M." An unfamiliar feminine voice pitches in. It's husky and demanding, and so, I intend to listen. Curiously turning to look, my vision is consumed by that recognizable carrot-like head. If I was captivated before seeing her face, I was surely a goner now.

Mickey ceases his actions while she stares between us with scrutiny. I'm gobsmacked and she clearly takes my silence as a sort of confirmation. "Right, no more for him. Okay M?" Mickey nods sternly, face falling moderately as her tone leaves no room for opposition. "Alexander!" I practically cry out before Red gets the chance to leave. Smooth Turner.

"Excuse me?"

"I-uh, name's Alex..." Yeah, very smooth.

"Jennie." She states curtly, evidently bemused. She then moves swiftly on her heel towards the kitchen. Straight away I grimace, pulling a hand to my forehead, rubbing its lines harshly. "Not a word." Mickey chuckles quietly and goes back to his work.

9:41 pm

"Still here, Alexander?" My head shoots up, startled by Red. When did I even fall asleep-

"Yes?" She snorts at my jumbled reply.

"Want me to call you a cab? A shrink perhaps?"

"M' sorry?" I question clumsily.

"Oh? I just thought you may need one, after hearing what you told to Mickey." Her sultry voice echoes out her rather devious grin. "God." My eyes widen in horror which aids her impending elation. "What have I said?"

"Nothing really, just that..." She starts counting her digits absentmindedly. "You've got no luck writing your music, no love life. Oh, and you have no sex life!" She proclaims the last part with glee. Jesus, please end this nightmare.

"I did not."

"Did too."

"I've had too much drink."

"Drunken words are sober thoughts." Jennie carries on smiling at my trepidation. Maybe I'd find her charming if her jokes weren't at my expense. "That's it, I'm not tipping." I declare pathetically. Her devilish smirk doesn't falter. "Seriously? Things can't be that bad! Mickey tells me you're actually a successful musician."

"That you've obviously never heard of." I roll my eyes at the absurdity of our conversation. She laughs aloud at my response, which I admit, brought a genuine smile to my face. It really has been a while. Her face then goes blank. "Alexander."

"Alex."

"Alex. You're young." She pauses, her gaze sweeps my shaggy appearance. "Ish"

"Ouch." I flinch jokingly, earning myself another gorgeous laugh and playful swat.

"Hey! And you're good-looking."

"Ish." I interrupt again with a chuckle and her smile grows.

"No!" She more or less shouts, "You have a lot to work with, trust me." Her hands gesture nimbly. "The only thing standing in the way of you getting laid is yourself." A surprise roar of laughter leaves my lips shortly and I shake my head in disbelief.

"You're selling yourself short here Alexander," Red concludes. "Alex-"

"You're wasting your youth-ish," she interrupts me once again and a sliver of silence washes over us. It's as if we're the only ones in this packed pub, eyes locked on one another, communicating beyond words. Her deep hazel orbs focus on my brown ones. "What do you suggest I do then, Jennie?" Lightly raising a brow, my words dare her while her lovely name rolls off my tongue. I can't help but revel in how it sounds. Then something flashes in her fixated stare.

"Let's get out of here."

Chapter two

[thebiggerbear]

The Ghosts Are Coming For You - One - Another One

Pairing: Beau x Female!Reader; Beau x Female!Detective!Reader

A/N: This is my first foray into the character x reader side of writing. I hope it's okay and you guys like it.

To my lovely beta @rieleatiel, you rock girl!

Disclaimer: Let me just say up front, I have never worked in law enforcement so I tried to piece together things I’ve seen and heard in true crime documentaries and podcasts alongside with movies/tv and books. I apologize for any inconsistencies, incorrect information, exaggerations, or complete fallacies. Also, this story is going to take place over a few months. Some things might be delayed or appear illogical to not have been thought of before they take place in the timeline, but it’s purely for story purposes.

Tl;dr: I made shit up.

Warnings: death, graphic descriptions of murder, mention of past sexual assaults, mention of dead body, discussion of dead bodies

Word Count: 7065

Series Masterlist

Series Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @superrey; @fromcaintodean; @stoneyggirl2; @zepskies; @lacilou; @perpetualabsurdity; @deansbbyx; @syrma-sensei; @globetrotter28; @roseblue373; @angelbabyyy99; @hobby27

Beau Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @birdiellie; @illicithallways; @muhahaha303

This chapter was recc'ed by @winchestergirl2 here.

“Got it, Cap. We’re on our way.” 

You made your way over to your partner, Jack Darcy, with your brows raised in question as you handed him his coffee. “New case?”

He gave you an appreciative smile. “Yep. Body found on a property over on Missoula. Cap said we need to get our asses over there asap.”

“Okay,” you sighed, opening the passenger door. 

Once you and Jack were settled inside the car, he turned a smirk on you after pulling away from the curb. “What’s wrong, Y/L/N? Getting tired of Homicide already?”

You shrugged half-heartedly, keeping your eyes on the road. “Just another day, another body.”

“You’ve only been working this beat for four months. It can’t be that bad.”

It was that bad. Transferring to Montana from New York, you prepared yourself for small city life, thinking things would slow down since the local population you’d be protecting and serving had drastically reduced from over a million to thousands. Boy, had you been wrong. 

“Four months and five years,” you corrected. You’d worked your way up to Homicide in Manhattan but once you got there, as good as you were at it, it wasn’t where you wanted to stay. Hence the transfer to Big Sky Country. You had heard Montana was beautiful and not as chaotically complicated as the Big Apple. So far, only one of those things had proven to be true. Something you thought about as you stared out the window at the clear blue sky.

“Yeah, but, you have to admit, things aren’t as crazy here. We’re lucky to get, what, maybe three cases a week?” 

“That’s three too many,” you muttered. In the reflection of your window, you saw Jack roll his eyes but he stayed quiet. In the short time you’d been partnered, he already knew to leave things be when you’d get in this type of mood, which seemed to happen every time you got a new case lately.

The truth was that you were tired — tired of the bodies piling up, tired of the horrors you saw that people could inflict on one another. Not to mention you couldn’t even begin to count how many unsolved homicide cases there were, active and cold. Once you landed here, you noticed the differences right away between your former precinct and your new one, resources and budgets being two of them. Your unit was smaller than your previous one and the bureaucratic bullshit that existed everywhere no matter the location in the country was even different in its own ways. You told yourself that you were making a difference, just like you had back in New York, but lately, that mantra wasn’t cutting it. Unbeknownst to Jack or anyone else in the squad, you were starting to wonder if maybe you should pursue a different path in law enforcement, transfer to a different department. Just like your former partner had urged you to do back when he left. Though, what that could be and if it was even possible, you had no idea, but you were thinking about it.

You opened your window slightly, feeling the crisp air hitting you, and it encouraged you to take a deep breath, ignoring the fact that you were barreling towards yet another murder scene, yet another poor soul that had met with a foul end at someone else’s hand. 

Jack listed off the details he had been told so far about the case that had been dropped in your laps, making your eyes close in pain and had you grabbing at your necklace under your shirt. Memories flashed through your mind of a crying family, a picture of a smiling young girl in her high school graduation cap and gown with her proudly holding up her diploma, and a sinister smile from an older man in an interrogation room as his eyes hungrily roved over pictures of the crime scene he was accused of creating. You shook your head to clear your mind and took another deep breath of the Montana air in order to assist in dispeling the thoughts, helping you keep your feet in the present you found yourself in and serving as a reminder to leave the past behind as you had promised yourself you would when you moved out here.

As horrible as this new case sounded, you hoped it wouldn’t be connected to the string of murders you and Jack had been investigating since your arrival. 

And almost as if your partner had heard your thoughts, he spoke it into existence. “It might not be connected,” he said hopefully, echoing your own wish. “It might be a standalone. Some random.” 

“Could be,” you agreed. “But you know as well as I do that it already sounds like the same MO.”

Jack thought over that for a moment. “We won’t know for sure until we get there and take a look around,” he reminded you. He didn’t want it to be connected anymore than you did.

You nodded and decided to leave it for now, knowing he was right. You needed to get there and start your own investigation; that was the only way to know for certain if this victim would be added to the already sizable file you had sitting on your desk back at the station. 

As Jack sped you both towards the scene, you offered up a silent prayer to whoever was listening that you wouldn’t need to add this person’s name to your growing list, and that you’d find whoever was responsible. While you were at it, you also prayed for the one thing you asked every single day: for people to stop hurting one another. It might be an impossible thought when there were 8 billion people running around the planet but you still asked nonetheless. If it was answered, you’d be out of a job, yet you would never be so happy to have to look for a new line of work. However, until that prayer was answered or until you made the decision to move on from Homicide, you’d still continue to work the cases and do your best to find answers as well as justice for the victims alongside the loved ones left behind to suffer.

Gripping the pendant on your necklace, you took another deep breath and put your game face on when Jack pulled up to the scene swarming with Helena PD officers and yellow crime scene tape, bordered by curious neighbors and local media. The white sheet instantly caught your eye and you turned to Jack, both of you exchanging a nod before getting out of the car to make your way towards the newest crime scene of your case files list.

You were still inspecting the body when you heard Jack mutter, “Aw, hell.” You glanced up, furrowing your brows in question. He inclined his head towards a Bronco that had just pulled up to the scene.

You turned to see a blonde woman and a man with a Stetson on his head exit the vehicle. The glint of a badge caught your eye from the man’s belt when he moved to close the door. Both he and the woman started glancing around, walking up to one of the officers standing sentry at the surrounding crime scene tape and speaking with him. You exchanged a glance with Jack before returning your attention to the body. “Deputies from the Sheriff’s Department?”

Your precinct had clashed with them before, though clashed was a bit of a strong word. Compared to Manhattan, the two departments played better together in their joint sandbox; still, that didn’t mean there wasn’t the occasional pissing match, especially when there was a possibility of jurisdictions overlapping. You had heard all about it from your coworkers but it rarely ever happened when you and Jack caught a case.

“The sheriff,” Jack clarified, making you gape up at him in surprise before turning to look over the man with the hat and beard again with a more discerning eye. 

“He’s…young.” He was definitely not what you expected, and you were even more surprised that he hadn’t driven himself to the scene, idly wondering if his department vehicle was possibly in the shop.

“Youngest they’ve ever had I’ve heard, and a transplant from Texas, too. One of the good ol’ boys.” So, this was the sheriff you’d heard so much about. Who was the blonde then? You watched as the officer the two had been speaking to held up the tape and let them through. 

And as if he could read your mind, Jack then added, inclining his head in the blonde’s direction, “That’s his undersheriff, Jenny Hoyt.” You recognized the name. You’d heard of her as well. A bit of a wildcard, that one, and she didn’t play too well with others at times. “She’s a local. Rumor also has it that she gets plenty under the sheriff.” You glared over at your partner. He laughed and threw his hands up. “Hey, I’m just saying that’s the rumor.”

Rolling your eyes, you went back to your job. You were studying the shallow scrapes on the back of the woman’s wrist when you heard Jack snapping his gloves off and saw him get up out of the corner of your eye.

“Sheriff,” he greeted. “Jack Darcy, Homicide.”

 The man gave him a nod. “Beau Arlen. So, what do we have here?” You could hear the twang coming through. He was from Texas alright.

“37 year old female victim, yet to be identified. Homeowner found her this morning when he was letting his dog out, called us right away.”

“Coroner get a look at her yet?”

“He’s en route. Detective Y/L/N and I are doing the initial workup, we’ll let him take over when he gets here. You know the drill.”

“Oh, I do.”

“Do we have any idea on motive?” Through your peripherals, you saw the undersheriff take off her sunglasses and hold out her hand for gloves. An officer handed her a pair and you could hear the tell-tale snapping.

“None yet. Appears to be a brutal stabbing and her throat was cut. Attack could have happened overnight, while she was walking or waiting for a ride, we’re not sure yet. It’s really too early to tell on motive, but don’t worry, Sheriff, we got it from here.” Jack was giving them just enough info to address what they were seeing while also politely shooing them away. You were grateful for it. You weren’t done examining the body or the scene just yet. 

The sheriff chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m sure you do. We heard the call and we were in the area, so we figured we’d drop by and see if you city boys needed any help.”

You bit your lip to keep the wiseass remark you wanted to make from slipping out of your mouth. Jack was right; he sounded like one of the good ol’ boys. He probably meant well but damn did it irritate you when you heard remarks like that, especially when you were mid-investigation onsite. Neither you nor Jack had time for this. Nevertheless, you swallowed down the retort and instead focused on the scene. You had only been here for four months so you were still new, and if you wanted to make a leap somewhere down the line, you needed to play nice and not cause any waves.

In the corner of your vision, Hoyt had bent down on the opposite side of the body, her fingers inspecting the woman’s neck where the more severe gashes were. “Any initial impression on the actual cause of death?”

Okay, fuck playing nice. You weren’t territorial or easily bothered, but other than Jack, you didn’t remember asking for another partner. Any other case you’d have just rolled your eyes and sat back while she did her own workup, entertained at her thinking she would know better than yours or Jack’s experience in homicide, but not today and definitely not this case. “Well, I’m no M.E. but I’d say the huge knife wound to the heart along with the throat slash are pretty good bets for being the culprit. Though we’d have to rule out strangulation based on the ligature marks on her neck, you know, just to be safe.” 

“Strangulation, too? That’s overkill,” Hoyt murmured, clearly not picking up on your sarcasm. 

“Hence homicide.” You ignored her glare and went back to doing your job. Jack chuckled under his breath at your smartassery.

“Well, we’ll just get out of your way and let you continue playing Coroner then.”

You shrugged, not caring in the least about her attitude. “That’d be great, thanks.” The sooner she cleared out and let you finish doing your job, the better.

She scoffed. “There’s no need to be so—”

“Hoyt,” the sheriff warned. “Play nice. Let’s try and remember we’re all on the same team here.”

You couldn’t help but smirk when the sheriff pulled on her leash. Undersheriff or not, how dare she push her way into your crime scene and start questioning you?

Jack spoke up then. “Sheriff Arlen, Hoyt, this is my partner, Detective Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Pleasure,” you ground out, still staring down at the marks on the victim’s neck and the pattern of bruising that was starting to become eerily familiar.

“Likewise,” the sheriff replied. Hoyt stayed silent, her narrowed eyes trained on you.

Jack exchanged glances with the man before clearing his throat. “Anyway, Sheriff, as you can see, we’ve got things well in hand. We appreciate you stopping by, though.”

Beau shot him an amiable smile. “Of course. We’ll get out of your hair. Come on, Hoyt, let’s leave them to it.”

Hoyt never broke her gaze away from you as she got to her feet, snapping off her gloves. You smirked wider, shaking your head in amusement.

Jack’s phone started ringing and he grabbed it. “Sorry, gotta take this.” At Beau waving him off, he immediately picked up the call. “Yeah, Cap? Ah, we’re still going over it but—yeah she’s looking at the body right now. Looks like the attack didn’t happen onsite but she’s confirming that right—.”

“She wasn’t attacked here,” you confirmed for him, never taking your eyes off of the scene in front of you.

“Sorry, Cap, one sec. What was that, Y/L/N?”

You slowly lifted your eyes to his. “She wasn’t killed onsite.” You saw Jack’s shoulders slump slightly and any hope he had held onto when taking Anderson’s call immediately go right out of him. You both already knew as much, the signs of a body dump surrounding the scene, but Jack didn’t want to be the bearer of that news to your captain.

Jack told Captain Anderson he’d call him right back and promptly hung up. “You’re sure?” He asked, sounding deflated.

You gave him a nod, glancing at him somewhat sympathetically. “Positive.”

Your partner sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit.”

“What makes you so sure?” Hoyt questioned, her arms crossed and scowl trained on you.

So begins the pissing match. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you pointed to the body. “What’s the one thing missing from this scene that should be everywhere?” 

Both the blonde and the sheriff quickly scanned the area. “Blood,” the man answered.

“Blood,” you confirmed. “There are no footprints or drag marks around the body. No ID, barefoot, clothes are slightly torn and oversaturated with blood but otherwise holding up well, blood and mud-stained soles of her feet on a well manicured lawn after a dry evening with no blood drops or trails anywhere, decomp is more advanced than it should be if she died last night…she was dumped here.” You then pointed to the shallow cuts you found near the victim’s hands and wrists. “And she fought like hell.” You let your eyes linger on the victim for a moment, shaking your head sadly, and got up with a sigh. “She was tortured for a while before she was killed.” 

“But why dump the body here? On some random person’s lawn in the middle of the city where the killer could have easily been seen or caught on camera? Why not leave her somewhere she’d never be found, where they wouldn’t have to risk themselves being seen?” 

Your gaze moved over to Jack, both of you already knowing the answer to all of that, and he heaved his own heavy sigh.

“To send a message,” he answered. 

“A message? To whom?” Hoyt asked. 

Your eyes never leaving Jack’s, you snapped your gloves off, both of you opting not to share anything outside of the department. If Hoyt wanted answers, she could call Anderson and he could field that one. “That’s what we’re going to try to find out. Darcy, let’s start sifting through missing person reports from the last few days to see if any match her description.”

“She could have been held longer than that,” Hoyt piped in.

You turned a glare on her. “No, she couldn’t have.” What was with this blonde? Her boss who outranked her already told her to leave it alone. So why couldn’t she just leave you to your crime scene that you clearly knew more about than she did and just be gone already? One glance at the sheriff studying the two of you intently answered that for you. She was trying to show you up in front of him or show off for him, you weren’t quite sure which. 

“What makes you so sure?” Hoyt was outright smirking at you now, content in her attempt to ruffle your feathers. 

“As I said, the clothes are in excellent condition despite being soiled and there’s also the state of decomposition of the body. Had she been held longer than the time frame I just mentioned and say, killed yesterday, the state of the clothes would be much worse and they would have started deteriorating sooner. Not to mention her pedicure was not that old. Cuticles are pressed and intact.”

“She could have touched it up herself before she was taken. Or gotten it done right before.”

“Hoyt.” Beau gave her a look when she turned her smirk on him. “Let it go. They’ve got it.”

“That’s alright.” You took a step closer, staring down Hoyt and smirking right back. “Undersheriff Hoyt, if you would like to take over the investigation, by all means.” You waved a hand at the scene in front of you, ignoring Jack’s wide eyes and the motions he made with his hand to get you to rescind that offer. “If you’d like, I can make sure the State is made aware that you are now heading this case.”

“Wait, State’s involved?” The sheriff asked in surprise that then turned dubious.

“They are,” you answered before Jack could, never looking away from the blonde.

“Already?” Hoyt asked, suspicion clear as day on her face.

“Already,” you confirmed, no hesitation. “So shall I call them and tell them that this is now your case?”

Hoyt’s smirk had dropped long ago and the scowl was back in place. She considered you for a moment and then stuck her nose up in the air, downright glaring at you. But she didn’t say a word.

The sheriff took note of yours and Hoyt’s standoff as well as Jack’s anxious expression, then cleared his throat. “Like I said before, we’ll leave you to it.”

You nodded curtly, more than satisfied at the turn of events, and glanced back at Jack. “Call Anderson and update him. We’re looking at another one.”

He gave you a somber nod and moved away to do just that.

You couldn’t resist turning back to Hoyt with a syrupy sweet smile. “Like I said before, a pleasure.” Your smile faded and your eyes burned into hers as you spun on your heel to walk away, knowing that was the end of that little dick measuring contest and who had won. As entertaining as it had all been, you had work to do.

“Hold up a sec,” the man next to her called out.

You took a deep breath and turned, seeing Hoyt and Sheriff Arlen exchanging a glance. The latter locked eyes with you and put his hands on his hips. “You said it was another one. Just how many victims have you had show up with this MO?”

Hoyt arched her brows expectantly at you, waiting for you to answer.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss any ongoing investigations in the Helena Police Department. If you have any questions, you can direct them to my captain. Jack can give you the number.” You then walked away, heading back to the car, more than eager to take a minute for yourself and collect your thoughts under the guise of needing to make a call. You couldn’t believe you and Jack had yet another victim on your hands this soon. The guy you were after didn’t appear to be slowing down at all; if anything, he was picking up his pace, and that worried you. 

It shouldn’t have surprised you when the sheriff was suddenly next to you, matching your stride. “Bureaucratic bullshit aside, I need to know, are we dealing with something nasty here?”

“Nastier than someone brutally torturing and killing another person, then dumping the body somewhere she’s sure to be found so another person can be terrorized?”

“Good point. But you know what I mean. I saw you and Dorsey back there, I know there’s something you’re not saying. Are we talking about a serial killer or something else?” He shook his head when you didn’t answer him. “Come on, Detective Y/L/N, tell me what we’re dealing with here.”

You let out a breath and stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. “It’s Darcy. And we are not talking about anything or dealing with anything together. As I said, if you have any questions, you can direct them to—”

“Your Captain, yeah, I got it.” He took a deep breath and his hands were back on his belt, green eyes pleading with you though there was a sharp edge to them. “Listen, if there’s something serious going on in my county, I need to know about it. If the shoe was on the other foot, we’d give you the professional courtesy, you know that.” You had to admit that he had a point, though you weren’t exactly sure how he didn’t already know about the growing threat, from local media coverage to small town folks talking. You may have oversold State’s involvement earlier to get Hoyt off of your backs so you could continue to do your jobs without further interference, but nothing could be further from the truth. Captain Anderson as well as the Chief were doing everything they could to keep things tight and close to the vest. A serial killer on the loose in this area wasn’t exactly unheard of; there had been the Bleeding Heart killer that evaded capture for years until recently. However, your bosses were under the strict impression that people didn’t need to worry about another potential problem, possibly breaking through the front doors of their homes, or abducting and killing their neighbors quite so soon. It would look like they couldn’t get a handle on their city, people would be too scared to leave their homes, people would stop coming through here, and Helena would become known as a haven for serial killers. At least that’s all of the bullshit reasoning you’d heard so far.

You personally disagreed with it all; you had learned first hand back in New York how valuable it could be to the investigation to keep the local population on alert, and how it might help reduce the number of victims. It could even provide a break in the case. Out here, in a close knit community such as this one, well, public awareness was not always viewed the same way hence all the bullshit justifications in keeping it quiet. At least as far as you had seen with this particular string of murders, anyway.

But even with your bosses working hard to keep a lid on things, how had this sheriff or his department not somehow become aware of what was going on right under their very noses?

Your gaze flickered back to the scene, seeing Jack talking with Hoyt, most likely in the same position you were in since the sheriff duo obviously decided to try to divide and conquer, before it landed back on the man in front of you. Seeing the concern layering his brow, his expression determined, you decided the hell with it. You’d made the case to Anderson more than once for things to go public, to lean on State more, to compare notes with other law enforcement such as the Sheriff’s Department to see if there were any other patterns or victims you were unaware of, missing or dead, or maybe even reported attempts at abduction or someone seeing something strange that could help turn the tide. Yet each time, you’d been denied and politely warned to keep your mouth shut, your head down, and to focus on your job. Well, you were already thinking of a change; what could it hurt to let this earnest looking sheriff know what was really going on? Perhaps he’d even do something with the limited information you could give him and jurisdiction squabbles aside, would it really be so bad to have another pair of eyes on the lookout for the same things you were? You didn’t think so. “Bureaucratic bullshit aside, nothing has been officially determined yet. For this case or..any others.”

His eyes tightened. “How many are we looking at so far?”

You bit your lip and turned to look at the officers surrounding the area. “Five.”

“And she’s the sixth?”

“If it’s determined that this fits that MO, then yes.”

“Based on your previous cases, does it?”

You gave him a look, staying silent. He knew you couldn’t answer that outright.

The sheriff let out a sigh and dropped his gaze to the ground. “Span of time?”

“Four in the last four months.” His head snapped up, his mouth hanging open. “That’s since I’ve been here. One was found right before I showed up.” 

He nodded and glanced back towards the scene. “Goddamn,” he said under his breath. After a moment, he turned back to you. His features started to relax slightly and the beginning of a smile began to form on his lips. “So, that’s why I haven’t seen you around before. I was wondering. Four months, huh? How’re you liking it so far?”

You glanced back in the direction of the body. “Seriously considering a change of address,” you muttered. “Maybe something tropical. People seem happier near beaches. I’m thinking it’s gotta be the sand, bikinis, and free-flowing booze. That or people are just too exhausted from being in the sun all day. I think that’d suit me just fine.”

A warm laugh escaped him as his bright smile graced you, reaching up to his eyes this time. It made you nearly smile in response, it was that infectious. He was certainly attractive and he had the whole sexy cowboy sheriff vibe working for him, complete with hat. For a split second, you wondered what could have happened had you met him at one of the local bars some night where your introduction to one another would have been vastly different. You tried to picture yourself line dancing at some country bar he might frequent but couldn’t. You’d tried it once but never really cared for it. You were more of a swayer and every so often (with a certain amount of liquid courage or lust coursing through your veins) a grinder. Instead, you might have grabbed his hat off of his head to get his attention and plopped it on yours, uttering the cheesy line of “Save a horse, ride a cowboy” or something to keep his focus squarely on you for the rest of the night. Before you could get too carried away in your thoughts, seeing an officer moving past you reminded you of why you were here. You needed to concentrate and get your head back into the game.     

“Oh, come on,” he urged, thankfully completely oblivious to what you had been thinking. “It’s only been four months! It took me at least six to settle in when I moved up here. You’ve got to give it at least that. I do copy you on the beaches thing, though. Definitely a slower pace.”

“Right? Though it’s gotta be a real pain in the ass to collect evidence in between tourists and the saltwater. You know what? Maybe I should just change careers. I’ll become a lifeguard. Bring some Baywatch to the Bahamas.” Oh no, that sounded flirty, hadn’t it? You hadn’t meant for it to sound flirty. 

His eyes lit up slightly but his amiable smile stayed the same. “I have no doubt in my mind you could.”

You nearly smirked but forced yourself to look disappointed. “But then again, there are sharks in the Bahamas, so maybe my Baywatch lifeguard audition will have to wait until, say, never.”

“Well, that’s a crying shame. Just when I thought I’d finally make the plane ride to the Bahamas.” His voice had dipped in register and his gaze burned into you, making you almost shiver. It was very obvious what he was thinking and you were thankful you were surrounded by several officers, your partner included, because there was no telling what you’d do if it was just the two of you and he looked at you like that. You had a very good idea of what he’d do and you found that you didn’t mind all that much, if you two weren’t on the job and he wasn’t already involved with someone else.

You forced yourself to focus, holding a hand up. “Alright, slow your roll there, Hasselhoff. You want to swim with the sharks, you go right ahead. Me? I’m staying on dry land, thank you very much.” He laughed again and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms, thankful that you had been able to change the course of that conversation. “So, six months, huh? From Texas I take it?”

His smile got brighter if that were even possible. “The accent that obvious?”

“The accent, the hat, the whole cowboy vibe you’ve got going on.” You gestured to him with a hand.

“You got something against cowboys?” He teased.

“Nope. It’s just that we don’t see too many of those in the Big Apple.”

“New York, huh? Should’ve known. You’ve got the whole SVU vibe working for you.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again. Like you hadn’t heard that one before. “Not every female detective from Manhattan is named Olivia Benson and not all of us work out of SVU.”

He held his hands up, still smiling. “I didn’t mean anything by it, darlin’.” At your raised brows, he chuckled. “Just a friendly term where I come from. I didn’t mean anything by that either.”

“Uh huh.” You spun on your heel and continued your trek to the car, nodding your thanks at the officer who lifted the crime scene tape for you to pass under. The sheriff continued to dog your steps which made you smile discreetly. 

“So, tell me, how do people on that tiny island live all squished together like that?” He wondered.

“I don’t know, one and a half million people somehow manage to figure it out every day.”

“One and a half million? Son of a bitch.” You had just reached the vehicle when he turned to you. “Who am I kidding? I come from Houston and we have even more people there. Except we’re spread out and have more room to roam.” He chuckled, expecting you to find that as funny as he did. 

You gave him a polite smile and opened your door, waiting. “Was there anything else you needed, Sheriff?”

“Please, call me Beau. And yeah, there was one more thing.” You arched a brow up at him and his grin melted into a different smile altogether, making something flip inside your stomach. Uh oh. You were back in that murky territory from a moment ago. “I was wondering if you’d let me take you to dinner.”

Your gaze snapped to where Jack was currently talking on his phone. Hoyt wasn’t too far from him, watching your every move, you swung your head back to find the sheriff staring at you expectantly, the same smile from before sitting on his bearded face. You decided not to beat around the bush. “I was under the impression that you were…otherwise engaged.” 

His brows began to furrow in confusion. “How do you mean?”

You inclined your head back in Hoyt’s direction. He quickly glanced over and then back to you. “What, Hoyt? No, we’re just partners. She’s my undersheriff and a friend, nothing more.” You shot him a look and he laughed. “I’m serious, there’s nothing going on. I’m free as a bird. So, how about that date?”

You bit your lip in thought, trying to think of the best way to politely turn him down. You really, really wanted to accept, to see where this might go, even if it was just a one time thing, but the way Hoyt was eyeing him and you right now, there was bound to be trouble there, even if it was only a simple dinner between you and the cowboy. Which, as Beau had said before, was a crying shame. He seemed nice enough but you really couldn’t afford to make waves, not if you planned to secure another transfer after such a short stint up here. You would have to politely decline his invitation. “I’m probably going to be working late, especially with this new case. Thank you for the offer, though.”

He tilted his head, smiling wider at you. “Come on, you gotta eat sometime. Besides, what kind of sheriff would I be if I didn’t show a newcomer such as yourself some of the great things Helena has to offer? Like the steakhouse I’d like to take you to. They have the best ribeye in the whole county, hand to God.”

You could see that he expected that to do the trick. So, you turned the tables on him. You closed the door and crossed your arms. “Texas, didn’t you already pump me for information about this case? I gave you what I could. There’s nothing else I can give you.”

His eyes flashed at your last statement. Uh oh. “I doubt that’s true but be that as it may, I’m not asking you to dinner to talk about work. As a matter of fact, I have a strict policy during dinner: no work-talk. So, what do you say, darlin’? Let me take you out?”

You glared up at him. “Will you drop the darlin’?”

“If you really want me to,” he agreed.

“I really want you to.”

“Consider it done. May I call you by your first name then?”

“I’d prefer it to darlin’.”

“Alright. Y/N. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’ll pick you up at your place, say around…7?”

Shit, were you really going to do this? You could not afford to make waves. There wasn’t really anything stopping you. You two worked for different departments, precincts even. He wasn’t your superior and while he outranked you, you weren’t working with him. He had addressed the Hoyt issue head on, assuring you they weren’t involved. You two were grown adults, able to just have a nice meal together. Besides, you hadn’t had a good steak in a while and what could it hurt? Although, you couldn’t have him come to your house because you were pretty sure you’d never make it past the porch, not with the way he had been eyeing you up earlier, not with how often your thoughts headed in that direction.

You noticed him lick his lips as he waited for your answer. It easily could have been a nervous tic, thinking you’d might turn him down, but your brain zoned in on the action. His smile was warm, infectious, and you hadn’t terribly minded your little banter before. You could probably have a somewhat decent time and get along fairly well. Before you knew it, you were agreeing to let him take you to dinner. “Make it 7:30, outside the precinct. I’ll be done around then.”

When he grinned happily, you felt that same flip-type feeling from earlier. Maybe dinner with someone other than Jack and something other than takeout on the fly wouldn’t be so bad. It’s not like you were promising the man anything other than a meal filled with conversation. And he had been right, you could eat, though you’d never admit it to him. It’s not like you were jumping right into bed with him…hence why you asked him to pick you up at the precinct.

“7:30 it is. I’ll see you then, Y/N.” He flashed you another smile and turned to walk away.

“See you then, Texas.” 

He tipped his hat in your direction, his eyes taking forever to leave you, and headed back over to the scowling blonde. Figures — the first guy to officially ask you out since your move here would be within the vicinity of a crime scene, not to mention the whole little flirtation moment. That was just your luck, wasn’t it? A part of you even wondered if you were normal for accepting his offer at said scene, not knowing a thing about him or once thinking it odd that he chose this to be his moment after seeing a dead woman who had been stabbed repeatedly by some sick bastard.

You shook your head, unsure of what the hell you had just gotten yourself into, thinking your whole life was a weird mess, so what was one more strange thing? You sat inside the passenger seat of the car, laying your head back against the headrest as thoughts of this case ran through your mind. 

Another one. How the hell was that even possible? There were now six victims with the same MO. Knife to the chest, ending in the heart, after their throat had been slashed but before they completely bled out. And this was after they’d been tortured for hours, days even, where they’d been repeatedly strangled to the point of unconsciousness and then brought back so more horrors and pain could be inflicted on them. It reminded you of a series of homicides you’d worked back in Manhattan, with an eerily similar MO; the difference was that those victims were sexually assaulted, asphyxiated with a plastic bag over their heads repeatedly, and their bodies were dropped off at different anchor points, not some random location where the body was guaranteed to be discovered within a short amount of time and it would put the killer at risk to be easily spotted by passersby or security cameras. Not to mention, you had closed the Manhattan case; the bastard was still sitting in jail — you’d checked.

You slipped your necklace from underneath your shirt and began to move the pendant back and forth as you thought it over some more. The victims here in Montana matched one description: a woman in her mid to late 30’s, usually turned out to be single or at the least casually dating, nothing serious. She always had Y/H/C hair, working hard in her chosen career or job, and she appeared to have been a decent dresser while doing the upkeep required for her fingernails and toenails. That was really what prompted your hunch about the pedicure that you couldn’t tell Hoyt, and let’s face it, wouldn’t tell her unless you were forced to. The territorial blonde had definitely left a bitter taste in your mouth.

But the New York victims had been women of various sizes, races, ages, and stations in life. One was a sex worker, one was a single mom, one was a lawyer from the Upper East side, one had been a late teen fresh out of high school… You closed your eyes in pain, gripping your pendant tightly. That had been one of your toughest cases to date. You didn’t like to think about it but that had been the one to light a fire deep within you to do whatever it took to hunt down the sick bastard who had done that to her. You worked tirelessly with your partner, trying to fit the pieces together, and run down the very little clues you had. In the end, it had all paid off. You made sure you were present that day in court for that son of a bitch’s sentencing.  

You opened your eyes and thought back to your current case. Every detail of this scene fit the details of previous scenes to a tee, minus the location where the body had been dumped. But the why of the dumping seemed to fit into a pattern. Something kept prodding at you, pulling at your instincts. Something was off here. You knew you were dealing with a serial but something kept pushing at you about Manhattan… It had to be the similarities. It was only natural for you to recall your experience when you saw similar MO’s in trying to figure out who was behind the killing and what their motivation was. Yes, that was it. 

You were interrupted in your reverie by your cell phone ringing. You answered it on the first ring. “Yeah?”

“I need you up here,” Jack requested.

“On my way.” You hung up and took a deep breath, slipping your necklace back under your shirt, and stepped out of the car, intent on heading back up to where your partner was. You both needed to figure this out and fast. You knew this woman was about to be added to the list of murder victims that had been the work of a serial you were currently tracking down, and based on how frequently he was doing this, he was only just getting started.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this series.

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[schlattsdoll]

fuckboi chapter one: in love with the morning light

minors dni

pairing: fratboy! jschlatt x fem!reader

warnings: drinking mentions, nicknames {pipsqueak} enemies to lovers,

notes: based on an actual mixer i went too yay!

word count:

it was another mundane day at the local college, sorority girls chatting away about what fraternities’ parties they planned on going too, football players talking about the upcoming game, and then there’s you. stuck in the middle with your small group of friends discussing party themes. charlie and ted, brothers of kappa beta, but you couldn’t forget their president, johnathan schlatt. the only member of the small kappa crew you didn’t like. he was attractive, sure, but he knew it, which made him all the more arrogant. all the girls fawned over him, instantly dumbing themselves down for a chance to go home with him. not you though, you saw through his façade and saw him for what he really was; an absolute fuckboy.

he sits down at your table in the common area, next to his vice president. "what's up pipsqueak?" jay addresses you as he pops a chip from ted's bag into his mouth. you groan at the nickname, rolling your eyes at the larger man. a signature smirk finds its way across his face while a hand runs through his chestnut locks, he continues to say something about that weekend's party theme, a KB- well any frat really- classic one at that, "beer olympics man! we haven't had a proper one in so long. c'mon everyone'll love it." ted nods in agreement, "schlatt has a point, it's a great classic theme for a reason, but how many other frats are gonna do that this week?" you chime in with a "make it more fun, make it so you pick partners out of a hat, then you're tied together all night. like literally, have string connecting people at the hip." "y/n, this is why we keep you around!" charlie smiled, rushing to make the flyer for saturday. "who knows, maybe she'll actual meet someone." schlatt chuckled as he drank his soda, leading to a swift kick from under the table from you. "i have class see you guys later." and you ran off to your next class.

you weren't in a sorority, and didn't go out much aside from when ted and charlie begged you to go to a party as it's winding down, or your roommate for that matter too. roxanne, or roxy as she liked to be called, had been your partner in crime since freshman year, and your sole confidant, telling her things not even ted and charlie know. she was a true friend, who pushed you to come out of your shell.

texting her about the party and what schlatt said to you, she quickly responded "i know you hate 'em but jay has a point. you might meet someone if you go when people are actually there." you hated to even hear the name "jay" and "right in the same sentence, but sadly he was, and so was roxy. deciding to put yourself out there, you texted her saying "i hate that you’re right. i'm texting teddy that we're going."

saturday night rolled around, you and roxy getting ready for the big night. she curls her hair while you style yours to perfection, thankful it’s cooperating with you. maybe tonight won’t be such a disaster after all, you think to yourself. as you two dig through your respective closets trying to find appropriate outfits for a frat party, you land on a black cropped cami, a pair of mom jeans and some beat up sneakers you didn’t mind getting dirty. “oh wait let’s match! so if we get paired together we look cute.” roxy said, grabbing the same top as you but in white.

as you made your way to the KB house, your stomach turned. you didn’t go out to large parties very much, and really the only people you knew were ted, charlie and roxy and schlatt unfortunately. you secretly hoped that roxy would be with ted so she can get over her crush on him, but also you wanted a chance to hang out more with your best friend in his natural habitat. walking up to the door, charlie is outside setting up a pong table. “hey! y/n, roxy, good to see you guys finally out!” he smiles kindly and hugs you both, then opens the door for you two. inside you’re greeted by a sea of people you don’t recognize. maybe not a sea, more like a large lake, but still your anxiety shot up.

ted is standing at the door, unattached from his partner who ran off with another brother. “ladies, pick your fate tonight!” he tells you with his usual dramatic flair. roxy pulls out the name and you see a j and hope it’s schlatt, but no, it was jack. “jack is uh, a little busy with kerri, my partner right now. i don’t mind taking his place roxy.” he offers to her. he presents a bit of string and ties it to the belt loop of her jeans. “i hope you’re good at pong.” roxy smiles back and secures herself to ted.

you unravel your paper and see a j as well. as you unfold more of it you see a longer name, oh no.

johnathan.

schlatt approaches you and smirks, that signature smirk you wanna slap right off his face.

“guess you’re stuck with me pipsqueak.” he ties himself to your waist. “gotta say, i’m shocked you came out tonight. don’t worry we’ll have fun.” he winked at you as you got ready for the worst night of your life.

oh how wrong you’d be.

[lisaslosingstreak]

You Can’t Escape Love

A Messy PipWen AU

You can blame this all on @caitlynskitten ok?

Chapter One

With a weary sigh Wednesday eased herself out of bed and allowed her feet to slowly touch the cool wooden floor of her bedroom. The boards let out an ominous creak which made her feel at home a little, but the house itself was a poor substitute for her parent’s mansion In terms of spookiness.

In an effort to escape the devastating end to her relationship with her far-too-short-term girlfriend Enid Sinclair, Wednesday had decided to move across the Atlantic to put as much distance as possible between them. It hasn’t been easy, she probably would never fully get over Enid, but she at least had a new life to keep her occupied.

She had chosen a little sleepy village in England to make her home, her father helping her purchase the old Manor House on the outskirts of the village for her to reside in. It was cold, drafty and gloomy, just as she preferred, but at night the lack of warmth from Enid turned her mood sour every time. Damn that girl for making her yearn for more than her own solitude.

The locals were achingly boring and middle class, but that suited her fine. They didn’t pry into her life and she returned the favour, happy to be the weird young woman rattling around the old manor. She had seen on the local chat groups (thanks to Enid she knew how to access them, at least something a little positive from that relationship) that the villagers were happy that someone new had moved into the old house, and didn’t seem to care about who she was or where she came from.

Wedneday has secured a part time job in the local records office. She didn’t need the money but the free use of civil service records would be very useful for her writing, which was now more thoughtful and introspective than her Viper trilogy. This was adult fiction on a whole new level, and she hoped it would sell well despite being a departure from the style her fans had become used to.

After showering and dressing she went to the kitchen to find the fridge bereft of anything nutritious to eat, which wouldn’t normally bother her, but finding the coffee supplies empty was too much. She would have to go shopping.

It was a warm day as she strolled to the local shop from the manor, the fresh English air scented with freshly mown grass and wildflowers. England was different in so many ways to her home country, but Wednesday would never have guessed that it’s smell would be the one characteristic that she would enjoy so much. It was so relaxing, especially in the morning sun, and it lifted her mood a considerable amount, no mean feat considering she hadn’t consumed her usual quad over ice that morning.

As she stood waiting to cross the road opposite the convenience store she watched the locals walking done the sidewalk - sorry pavement. They all seemed lost in their own worlds and didn’t notice her, the short dark-haired girl dressed in black, her face relaxed into its usual slight scowl.

As the cars drove off Wednesday was about to step off the curb when she was abruptly knocked to one side into the gutter.

“Oooh sorry my dog is pulling so hard I didn’t mean that, are you ok?” a sweet voice blurted out before Wednesday even had a chance to turn round to see her new sure-to-be sworn enemy.

Any insult she had faded away as she looked up into an oddly familiar - yet clearly unknown - pair of intensely blue eyes bracketed by a concerned frown.

“I-I-I am f-fine, th-thankyou” stuttered Wednesday as she stepped back onto the pavement.

“Oh that’s good. Sorry again.” the girl replied, a big grin spreading across her face, her eyes twinkling with delight. She bounced on her toes and thrust a hand towards Wednesday.

“I’m Pip by the way.” she offered.

Wednesday stood perplexed, a weird feeling of deja vu creeping across her thoughts. Pip had a little of Enid’s sunny disposition, and the captivating eyes were familiar, but everything else was different. No layers of makeup, her hair was a deep chestnut wavy shoulder length style instead of bleached and dyed. Pip wore some brown shorts and scruffy sneakers, with a crop top and blue sleeveless jumper on her top half. No bright pink skirts or jackets or crazy jewellery either, just a watch on her left wrist.

She was different.

She was gorgeous.

Wednesday took Pip’s hand and shook it gently, determined to make a good impression.

“Wednesday, Wednesday Addams.”

Chapter 2

[hotcryptidsinyourarea]

Falling for the Frogman of Loveland, Ohio

story synopsis: Molly is a 30-something cookbook editor who has decided to move from New York to Loveland, Ohio after a bad breakup and a desire for a fresh start. She is instantly attracted to her neighbor Jeremiah's midwestern charms, but this local guy is much more than meets the eye...

human (she/her) + interdimensional humanoid frogman (he/him) cw: social anxiety, existential pondering, negative self-talk

Chapter 3

My body and mind are so exhausted, I sleep in an hour later than I usually do. The fact that my new bed is very comfortable also facilitates this late start, but I don’t really have it in me to complain about that. I finally pry myself from between the sheets and get dressed for my first full day in my new home. First thing’s first: coffee. 

I do a quick search for the closest non-chain coffee shop to my place. Part of the appeal of moving to a smaller community is supporting the local business culture. Never again will I spend $10 on a tall, burnt-ass latte from the Bucks. There’s one on Loveland Madeira alongside all the other fast food chains, but I’m going to avoid it like the plague. It’s the weirdest thing in New York: everybody talks about how much they love their neighborhood coffee shops, but no matter when or how you see them in real life, there will always be that ubiquitous siren-logo’d cup planted firmly in hand. It’s like some grand delusion we all pretend we’re not a part of. 

No that I think people in a small town are paragons of virtue or anything. I know there is hypocrisy and assholes everywhere you go. But you spend enough time in one place and eventually you have the right to gripe about it as much as your little black heart desires! Or that’s what I tell myself, I guess. Part of me will always love New York and I truly look forward to going back and visiting. But the agitation I feel at just a passing reminder of the city tells me I made the right move leaving town. I just hope this place ends up being where I’m supposed to be. 

Well, what better way to get a feel for a new town than running a couple of normal, domestic errands? Namely: coffee. Let’s fucking gooooooo!

_____________________________________________________________

I’m loving the decor at the Blue Chip Roasters coffee shop. The amount of hearty wood furnishing and exposed burl fixtures gives it a Twin Peaks vibe without being derivative. It’s warm and homey and the scent of fresh coffee brewing makes my mouth water. There’s a huge wraparound counter that isolates the staff area behind the machines and cash register, which lines up with the doorway so you can walk right up to it. On the other side of the counter are bar stools occupied by various coffee drinkers who are all immersed in their books or laptops. It’s simple but welcoming. A satisfactory first impression, for sure. 

It’s a blessedly simple menu. They only have two types of milk, whole and oat, but I’ve never strayed from the classic whole milk-coffee combination anyways. Full fat means full flavor and that’s what I want. I order a double iced latte and a cinnamon roll for breakfast. As I drop in a dollar for tip, I notice the jar is covered in stickers and such all depicting some artists’ renditions of an anthropomorphic frog. In big block letters it reads: 

>> DON’T FROG-ET TO TIP! - LFM <<

“Who is LFM?” I ask the girl working the register. 

“Oh, it stands for Loveland Frogman. You’ve never heard of it?” 

“I can’t say that I have, but I’m new in town. Like, brand new.” 

“Oh, well it’s just a dumb local legend. Years ago, a couple cops saw a lizard standing on its hind legs and told everyone they saw a Frogman. Locals have kind of taken it on as a mascot of sorts even though it’s fake as fuck.” 

“It’s NOT fake,” says the kid behind the espresso machine pulling shots. “The Frogman is real. That lizard story is a cover-up ordered by the FBI. Ask anyone from around here and they’ll tell you a story about them or someone they know spotting him at some point.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” the cashier rolls her eyes. “The people that claim to see him are just dumbasses lying so they can be the center of attention for a moment. Either that or meth heads.” 

“It wasn’t a frog at all,” says a third worker sweeping something up behind the counter. “It was an alien. A being from another dimension. That’s why the FBI wanted to cover him up. No one cares about some overgrown science project.” 

The local color of it all has me stunned silent. I am not used to talking this much with strangers. Honestly, I felt like I was pushing it by asking the cashier in the first place. I was half expecting a snide fuck-if-I-know dismissal. And now after instigating the conversation, I find myself at a loss for words. Great! I have no idea how to get out of this in the correct, polite way. I’m a decade out of practice. Thankfully, a voice coming from a bar stool in my periphery offers me a blessed interjection to keep me from looking as dumb as I feel.  

“Don’t listen to them. They’re just messing with you because you said you’re new in town. We don’t get a lot of ‘new’ around here often. A lot of the same,” says the guy. I turn to look at him, remembering the most rudimentary of manners, but what I see doesn’t help my muteness because this dude is good looking. 

Very good looking, one might say. 

Ridiculously, if you’re so inclined. 

I get that feeling in my chest that makes me feel like I’m twelve years old again and my friend Jessica’s older brother Adam would walk in the room while we watched TV– like it’s suddenly difficult to to take a full, deep breath and a heat spreads across my shoulders and chest. I can’t remember the last time I felt this way. I am completely flustered. I break eye contact to fumble through my wallet for an extra couple dollars to throw in the tip jar. Fuck! I need to work on my spontaneous conversation skills. I wasn’t expecting to experience culture shock quite to this extent, but I guess even just one state away is a whole other place, isn’t it? 

“Where are you from?” asks the guy. A straightforward question that I am perfectly capable of answering… hopefully. 

“I moved here from New Yor–” I manage to croak out, stumbling over that last syllable. I clear my throat. “York. I moved here from New York.” 

“New York City?” 

“The very one.” 

“Why would you leave New York to come to Loveland of all places?” he asks. “Most people are doing everything in their power to make it out of here.” 

“Oh, you know, sometimes the place a person needs is the last place you’d expect,” I reply. Looking back at the cashier, they have an incredulous look on their face like I’m speaking crazy talk. 

“Whatever you say, lady.” They hand me my coffee, my transaction finally complete. I lift the cup in salute and give a tight mouthed smile to the hot guy at the bar. He lifts his cup in return, a good humored smile plastered on his face. 

As I leave the coffee shop and settle into the driver’s seat of my car, I’m suddenly hit with the realization that I answered that hot guy’s question with the kind of trite bullshit normally reserved for Pinterest quotes. 

“Sometimes the place a person needs is the last place you’d expect,” I repeat back to myself. “What the FUCK does that mean, you dumbass weirdo bitch?” The heat I felt across my chest has definitely spread across my face. Luckily, there’s no cute coffee guy to see my embarrassment as I drive back home. 

_____________________________________________________________

Once I’m back home with my coffee and cinnamon roll, I park it back outside on the iron patio set and enjoy my breakfast. With a little food and caffeine in my system, I realize I may have been overreacting to the little interaction at the coffee shop. It probably wasn’t as bad as it was in my head. I was just hungry and fatigued from moving. No big deal. 

I hear the doorbell and go to let the internet installation technician inside. I’m impressed that he showed up so early in the estimated service window. It wasn’t uncommon for me to wait all day for a tech in New York only for no one to show up when they said they would. The next day or so, I’d often get a call while out and about. 

“Hi ma’am it’s George from Concast. I’m here to install your internet. Can you let me in?” 

“Let you in? You were supposed to come yesterday. I didn’t get any notification that you’d come today– I’m not here.” 

“Well, I need to be let in to install your internet…”

“But I’m not there. We’ll just have to reschedule.” 

“Next availability is in two weeks.” 

“GODDAMMIT. Wait right there– I’ll be back as soon as possible!” 

But none of that rigamarole is happening now. At this moment, I am reading a book on my back patio with an iced coffee and a cinnamon bun while Lyle sets up my fiber internet at the exact time he was scheduled to do it. Life is good. 

Okay, I may be looking at everything with rose colored glasses, but I’ll allow myself to bask in my new home serenity for a little while longer. What can it hurt to take the time to enjoy the fact that things are going smoothly? Back in the city, it felt like I was constantly having to strive for things to work. They rarely did and any hint of them possibly doing so was dashed with such expedience I never allowed myself the luxury of thinking that I possibly deserved for things to be easier. 

There was no way for me to get to that point when stuck in constant survival mode. The city is a beast, constantly growing. So even if you get to a point where you’re realizing some sort of comfort, the beast will continue to expand and shift until your complacency gets you displaced. It’s exhausting! I guess the hustle gives you something to live for– that’s why you see so many 80-year old women wandering around the streets of Manhattan. But they’re a hard eighty. And you can’t help but think they’re not there because they want to bust their asses just to make it through a day, but because they simply don’t even know there are other ways to live. Humans are creatures of habit. We find comfort in conformity. We create these confines and then tell ourselves because we made them, we must also work within them. 

It’s logical: as animals, we are bound by evolutionary instinct to find and keep a lifestyle that enables us to be productive– namely, reproductive– so that drives us to make choices that are safe and keep us connected. But I don’t think it’s extreme to say we as humans can and should continue to evolve past base evolutionary drive. It’s not imperative for all of us to be constantly productive. We have machines and programs that help us do a lot of the heavy lifting so that we may spend more time enjoying the world we’ve been gifted. And just as these advancements further separate us from any quote/unquote “natural way” of existence, we should consider the possibility that breaking free from our patterns and choosing not to conform to the established expectations may serve us positively. 

Of course, it’s that “new is better” mindset that led Mark to breaking up with me. He saw moving in together as conforming to the established expectations of those around us and he couldn’t do it. So perhaps I’m a hypocrite waxing poetic on the evils of conformity. No ideology would’ve stopped me from moving in with him. I was dead set on doing the expected. 

Except, I didn’t see it as settling. I saw it as an exciting new experience that just happened to promise a bit of security alongside the novel. There is adventure to be found alongside someone you can rely on. I guess at the end of the day, we broke up over a difference of perspective. If you’re going to build a life with someone, you should both see your future from the same vantage point. 

_____________________________________________________________

With the internet working and full stomach, I’m ready to continue unpacking. It’s not so much the unboxing that’s taking up my time. But with every essential item I unwrap, I’m reminded of something I’ll need to buy in the process of turning this house into a home. It feels a little consumerist, but I fully intend to take my time in accumulating these items and purchase with quality in mind, so I don’t sweat it.

Well, I don’t sweat the prospective shopping. Unpacking boxes does work up quite the literal sweat, however. It’s almost 6 pm and I am in desperate need of an end-of-the-day shower. Before I hop in, I pull up a food app and find the best rated Thai restaurant in my delivery area. I put in an order for pad thai and spring rolls and receive an hour delivery estimate– plenty of time to get clean before dinner, so I hop in the shower. 

I’m right in the middle of rinsing the conditioner from my hair when I hear the doorbell. An hour was either an incredibly inaccurate delivery estimate or it took me much, much longer to wash my hair than it normally does. 

“WAIT!” I holler towards the door as I wrap myself in my favorite extra large, super fluffy bath towel. “I’M COMING! I’M COMING!” I scurry as fast as I can to the door, probably looking like a drowned rat. 

“I’m so sor–” I halt as soon as I see who’s on the other side of the door. It isn’t my Thai food at all. It’s the guy from the coffee shop– the hot one who rescued me from my social awkwardness. He has that charming smile on his face, but it fades a bit as he gets a good look at me. In a breath of realization, his eyes go up to the sky as a pink blush spreads across his face. It’s kind of adorable, to be honest. 

“I am so sorry,” he says. “I’m your… we’re neigh– I live a couple doors down,” he fumbles through. “I wanted to come over and welcome you to the neighborhood.” 

“We– we met earlier, right? At the coffee shop?” I find myself once again in a situation I haven’t experienced in quite some time. Fourteen years in New York and not once did I have a neighbor come to my door to introduce themselves. I’m not even certain if I’m expected to invite him in. I certainly don’t know how to proceed when I’ve opened the door but a single layer of terrycloth between my nude body and the– admittedly gorgeous– welcome wagon. Thankfully, the wagon in question seems steady on the trail. 

“Yes! Yeah, that was me. Hey– I can, you know, wait here a second if you want to…” he makes a vague gesture towards the towel. 

“Oh! That would be great, yes. But you don’t have to wait outside. Please, come on in.”

He gives me a wary look. “Are you sure? I don’t mind…” 

“Yeah, I guess it’s not exactly best practice to let some guy I just met into my home while I’m changing, huh? I’m sorry, I just don’t want to be rude.” 

“You’re not, I promise. Go ahead, I can wait here. I’m patient.” 

Now I’m the one who’s blushing. Blushing a nude in front of a strange man. Mother would be so proud. I give him a sheepish smile as I close the door then scurry back to my room to throw on the nearest clothes I can get my hands on. I make a pit stop to take a peek in the bathroom mirror, rub the smudged mascara from under my eyes, and run my fingers through my hair. It’s not much, I think looking at my sorry state, but it’s what I got. 

I head back to the front door and take a moment to compose myself to come off with a false air of nonchalance. Fake it til you make it, right? 

I open the door and see him leaning against the wall and looking through his phone casually. I notice for the first time he’s holding a bottle of wine in the other hand. He looks up and catches my eye. A smirk sprawls across his face. 

“Woah– that was quick!” he says. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t have a lot of things unpacked here at the moment, so I don’t have much to sift through. Cuts down on the decision fatigue when choosing what to wear, for sure.” 

His smile brightens and it puts my entire body on high alert. I may not be nearly naked anymore, but looking at this guy makes me feel so exposed, like he’s seeing things about me that I’m not even aware of. I’m a grown ass woman, but this guy has me feeling bashful for the first time in years. 

“Come on in,” I move aside and open the door completely to let him inside the house. “I think you’ve proven you’re trustworthy enough.” 

“Cool, yeah.. I mean, thanks.. Yeah.” His stammering is endearing. There’s something comforting in the shared awkwardness as if the meeting of two awkward nerds cancels us out into being normal. “I’m Jeremiah,” he introduces himself and holds his hand out to shake. 

“Molly,” I grasp his hand in return. “It’s nice to officially meet you.” 

“Yeha! I hope you don’t find this creepy, but earlier I noticed the internet guy in your driveway and realized someone had finally moved into this place. The for sale sign was taken down about a week ago and I was wondering when you’d show up. Then when you said you just moved here at the coffee shop earlier, I thought maybe the new owner could be you.”

“And it is!” I interrupt. “I mean, I am. That is to say… It's kismet.” Jesus Christ. Is that something people say? Can I even define “kismet?”  Am I just embarrassing myself here? 

“Exactly!” His smile breaks my shame spiral. “It’s always worth noting when we get to witness the stars aligning in real time.” He holds the bottle of wine up to eye level for me. “I brought you a housewarming gift. It’s nothing special– I wasn’t even certain if bringing wine to a stranger is appropriate. But it’s a pretty dry red. I thought if you don’t drink, you can use it for cooking.” 

“I do! I mean, I do drink. Thank you, you’re very kind and I feel quite welcome.” I take the bottle and scan the label. It’s a Chianti I’ve never tried before. “This looks beautiful. Would you like to have a glass with me?” 

“Um… sure! That sounds nice. Do you have glasses?” 

“I don’t have stemware, but I have a couple cups that will do. Plus,” I pause to rummage in the drawer where I stashed my well loved wine key the night before, “I have this!” I grab the water glasses I have from the cupboard and start working the corkscrew into the top of the bottle. 

“Please, allow me.” Jeremiah takes the wine and key from me and effortlessly drills deep into the cork, angling the bottle away from him. He looks me directly in the eye as he pushes the lever away from him and removes the cork with an muffled POP.

What in the actual fuck? How was that so… hot? 

He grabs the glasses and distributes even, modest pours in each of them before handing me one. “Cheers,” he says, lifting his own glass, “to your new home.” 

“And new neighbors,” I clink my cup against his, immediately questioning whether that was smooth or just pathetically thirsty. Either way, I take a sip. I notice his eyes darting around, taking in the details of the house. 

“This place is almost the exact same layout as my place, just reversed.” 

“Really?” I ask. “Is that unusual?” 

“Not really, no. These subdivisions are financed and built before they’re ever sold. Developers will have a handful of blueprints and rotate between them while building. I guess keeping everything as uniform as possible allows them to churn out houses quickly and reduces the risk of error. You build the same house over and over again, you can probably throw them up in your sleep.” 

“Or they get so overconfident and cocky, they begin to slack off and make mistakes.” 

“Oof. You’re telling me. Complacency can definitely lead to miscalculations.” He takes another sip before continuing. “Happens in my work all the time.” 

“Oh yeah? What do you do?”

He winces. “It’s kind of hard to explain– not that it’s beyond your understanding,” he reassures me and my heart melts ever so slightly. “But, basically, I track and predict rainfall.” 

“You’re a meteorologist?” 

“No. I don’t really know much about weather in general. It’s more like I use statistics to estimate which places will experience flood or drought in the near future. I then use those estimates to inform the purchase and sale of certain commodities.” 

“Commodities. Like food?” 

“Food is a big part of it, yes. But also a lot of precious metals and whatnot. And oil. There’s always oil.” 

“So you’re a gambler,” I tease. He grins in response. 

“An informed gambler, yes. But, you know– no risk, no reward.” 

“Well it does sound pretty interesting. More so than what I do.” 

“Which is?” 

“I am an editor for a publishing company that specializes in highly stylized cookbooks. A lot of Housewives for housewives kind of content. I basically make sure that what the authors– or, at least, their ghostwriters– put in their drafts all make sense. You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve caught cups– multiple cups– of salt from being added to a dessert recipe.” 

“That sounds interesting to me,” he says, being polite. I appreciate it nonetheless. “So does that mean you know how to cook a lot of different things?” 

I guffaw. “In theory, at least. I’m not a talented chef by any means, but I can make a meal.” I realize that at every chance I get, I’m diminishing myself in this conversation. When did I fall into that little habit? But before I can think much more about it, my doorbell rings. “Speaking of meals, that would be the takeout I thought you were.” I answer the door and thank the delivery person after they hand me my order. When I come back, I see Jeremiah rinsing out his now empty glass of wine before gently placing it in the sink. 

“Well this seems like the perfect opening for me to make a graceful exit. I’ll leave you to enjoy your dinner.” He gives me a genuine smile and reaches out to shake my hand goodbye. “It was really great meeting you. I’m excited to have someone cool in the neighborhood. And if you need anything, anything,” he gives my hand a squeeze on the emphasis and while making some very effective eye contact, “don’t hesitate to ask.” 

Damn. My new neighbor is hot.

[popcornforone]

MAY

From the Marcus Pike Fan Fic Diary

Master list

April

Sorry you were meant to get this a few weeks ago & then I had an idea so delayed this, but the diary is still going strong. This is more about their relationship than the sex, but it’s still there.

Synopsis:- Marcus plays in a band & you always tag along to see them perform at the local bar.

Word count:- 1850

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF TOU ARE UNDER 18! Established relationship, pining, swearing, admiring, anal sex, other sex implied as well, alcohol, being a muse. Yea I think that’s it. If you’ve read any of the 4 chapters before this you will know what this diary is like.

Thanks as always for the read peoples, I hope you enjoy.

I love band night. Our local bar every Wednesday puts one on. We’ve seen loads of acts that have made it big over the years. It was the third night that Marcus & I went to this that he popped to the toilet & left me at the bar. The bartender knew what was about to happen, they winked at me as the mc took the stage & then on walked Marcus & his band “So Selfish”. My jaw hit the floor, my panties damp instantly as he strummed that base guitar. We’d only had sex a few times & I wasn’t sure exactly how I truly felt. Safe to say that night, he strummed me like a man possessed . So in the zone. It was the first time I ever squirted as that thumb & fingers had me quivering in desire.

So last night I knew he was playing. I no longer have to turn up with Marcus when he played. The staff knows when I get here what my drinks order is & where my favourite spot to watch him from is. I want the correct amount of reverb from his voice. I know how he’s gonna sound smooth then rough & then smooth & it’s gonna make me feel all unnecessary when he screams the word “& I know you’ve gone all naughty just for me” I know it’s about me. He is the only man I’ve left fuck my arse & he knows that there’s a huge chance that this happens after band night. I turn into a little groupie for Marcus & he can have a back stage pass.

On he & So Selfish walk. Gone are his agent clothes, replaced by a lose grey tshirt that will stink of sweat by the time I peel it off his body tonight. His jeans dark charcoal & those doc martin boots peek out below them. The hair is ruffled but it’s not quiet bed hair. His belt buckle in silver & black has a snake on it. The eye a red gem. Keeping its eye on the crowd. His arms are bare from just above the elbow, his wrists have bracelets & ties on them. Who’d have ever thought soft little Marcus, the worlds best & most professional agent, would be a rocker like this for peoples enjoyments every couple of months. I notice the brackets & see there is one that’s slightly different, it’s glistening white & blue when the rest are black or red.

“What’s up the jesters” he grabs the mic & says & its meet with a very large cheer. The bar is always packed on Wednesdays for band night. “If you don’t know us by now we are So Selfish we play soft indi rock & for 90mins tonight we are here for your entertainment, so please try not to get drunk until our third half an hour.” It’s met with laughter & Marcus scoffs & he looks up to see me. I do a shy wave. I’m not meaning to match him but I’m in my long floaty grey vest top which has a butterfly embroidered on it. My pale blush wash jeans & my converses can’t be seen bellow the counter I’m leaning on. There’s about 10 rows of people between Marcus & I but I don’t care. I see his little smile. He knows where to look for me & I raise my glass of whisky to him & wink. His eyes dazzle & he smiles. “Right let’s get to this our first song is Ruined” he turns to his band who i know all to well by now & they all nod. The drummer counts in & they begin their first 30mins at 7:30pm.

During their second 30mins a group of girls, very blonde giggly & busty make their way to the front to cry & catch Marcus eye. I’m happy for him to look but I know he’s not gonna touch. On a normal day none of these girls would give my man the time of day. He’s said before he met me, that being the lead singer in a band meant he got attention but they just wanted the fling & he’d always been after the real thing. They might stand inches from my man screaming wanting him to drip sweat on their boobs but they will never get the satisfaction I get from him. I can still smell him from here. His scent is extraordinary anyhow, but when his adrenalin pumps & he’s in the zone, it’s a real turn on. My pheromones go into overdrive & always make me broody. He entertains the girls a few kisses are blown as he sings “but you’re just trouble”.

Before the third & final 30mins he & the guys hit the bar & I order 2 double whiskys, with a dash of water on ice. As they both arrive at where I’m sat, a large firm hand graces my waste.

“Baby”

“Handsome” he nuzzles his head into my neck as he says this & I gasp. His lips pepper me with kisses making me turn red & close my eyes as I start to moan. I flinch when he retracts.

“How’s it going so far?” His large fingers trail around the rim of his glass.

“Phenomenol as usual Marcus”

“Well you always say that”

“It’s the truth”

“Is it or are you just addicted to the lead singer?”

“Maybe” we both take large gulps of our drink. “I mean he’s so sexy, & not just tonight” we both smoulder at each other, our lustful gazes not dropping. Eyes only close when he takes my lips deeply. The way that hand feels against the side of my face & neck. I hear a few people murmur about the kiss but it makes Marcus go deeper. A kiss of lust, sweat, whisky & love connecting two people who feel so alive.

“God I love you” he whispers in my ear.

“Right back at you Marcus” I say & grab his hand, stroking over those fingers. I then feel him shuffle off the new bracelet & slide it onto my wrist.

“Don’t look at that until the time is right baby, you’ll know when” he downs the rest of his whiskey & we kiss once more before he & the band get ready for the third round.

The temptation to look at what he’s put on my wrist is huge. It feels like beads, as I run my hand around it. But I don’t. He always has little Easter eggs in his shows for the select few who know the band. Today is obviously a joke about us.

I sit there in awe during them performing. They don’t want massive fame. They are happy playing a gig every couple of months just here in dc. They are all just good friends who like to play & are decent. I sit there sipping on my next drink & smile at him. He is definitely getting a back stage pass tonight. He sings the song about that & then they pause. He looks at his lead guitarist. The way the sweat drips off his head when he is in side profile is so sexy. I’m so turned on. My man looks so hot, so rough. He’s my sweet little Marcus who calls me his good girl, but tonight he can choke me out & call me a slut.

“Before we do are normal last 3 songs I want us to do a cover song if that’s okay, we only rehearsed this recently but it means a lot to me & someone special in the crowd tonight.” My eyes widen he isn’t is he “so if she looks down at her gift, she will know this song but to the rest of you just enjoy.”

I look down. It’s a blue & white friendship bracelet. A black & a pink heart are on two beads with the letters YOYOK & then blue & white beads. It’s my favourite Taylor Swift song & Marcus has always laughed that I love my rock & proper music & then that I’m a Swiftie. But tonight he’s singing it. The band play it & I try not to cry, stroking the bracket for comfort. My man & his friends are playing something so personal to me & I sit there trying to be calm. Inside my body my heart races. My brain is screaming. Everything is shivering. This is so personal but also so much more than that. I eventually give in & let the tears fall down my face especially when he winks at me. I’m an emotional wreck.

The rest of the gig is a blur I was in a trance, but I remember kissing his lips like I needed it more than water after the show. He squeezed by arse & the way his sweaty hands roamed across me gave me a sensual sensation. I don’t remember the drinks afterwards or the taxi back to our place. The first thing I remember is him sucking my nipples.

“Marcus” I moaned. My own hands inside his boxers getting him harder, precum staining the insides. We didn’t even make it to the bedroom. I was naked & on all fours as he licked away at me & then growled as he eventually rubbed his throbbing head against me.

“Back stage?” He slapped my arse.

“VIP my sexy rock… OOOOOHHH GOD!” I screamed. He’d lubed me up before this but he didn’t go slowly. Marcus was rampant, my arse was filled to the brim as I gripped onto the sofa with all my might, trying to catch my breath.

“Like that baby”

“Fucking love it” I moaned back his base fingers are holding one of my hips while the other strums my clit, I know how fast those fingers go.

“Mmm mmmm Marcus”

“Fuck baby” he has never been so rampant in his life. I didn’t know anal could feel this incredible but it does. He didn’t even tease with his fingers to open me up like he usually does. He’s balls deep pumping away into my arse as I screamed for more.

“Fuck oooh fuck yea baby, it’s so fucking good”

“Fuck oooh fuck, why is this even tighter than your cunt.”

I have no idea how long it lasted but I know that when he’s about to cum he takes his penis out of my arse, slotting it quickly inside my quivering pussy. I’d had multiple orgasms & he knew I wanted the ultimate satisfaction. He then fucked me until we both couldn’t go anymore, in a sexual haze we drifted off.

We both were late to work this morning we’d both passed out after our exertions on the sofa & our phones battery had died. It was a major panic suddenly hear Marcus shaking me going fuck baby it 9:30. There wasn’t even time for a shower for either of us. We had to be out, & at work, but was it worth it for last night with my rockstar & the special treatment we both received? Fuck yes.

June

[sgcstories]

Chapter 1: Whispers in the Magnolia Breeze

_________

Tinsley sat in her dimly lit bedroom, surrounded by vinyl records and old concert posters. The soft crackle of an Elvis Presley song played on her vintage turntable, filling the room with nostalgia. She traced her fingers over the faded cover of ‘All Shook Up”, imagining the King’s voice wrapping around her heart.

It had been years since she’d seen her grandmother’s eyes light up as she recounted stories of attending an Elvis concert. Well, only three years when Elvis was freshly new to the fame, that is. Tinsley’s fascination with the legendary singer had grown into something more—a connection that transcended time and space. She’d written countless fan-fiction stories, weaving romance and magic around Elvis’s iconic persona.

But lately, life had lost its sparkle. Her job at the local library felt mundane, and the Louisiana heat weighed heavily on her shoulders. Tinsley needed a change, a spark to reignite her passion.

She slide to the edge of her bed, the radio crackling with static as she tuned in to the late-night broadcast. The voice of the DJ filled the room, promising a world beyond the cotton fields of Louisiana—a world where music danced like fireflies on a summer night.

“And now,” the DJ drawled, “we’ve got a special treat for y’all. The King himself—Elvis Presley—live from Memphis!”

Tinsley’s heart skipped a beat. She remembered tales of Elvis—the boy who’d risen from poverty to stardom, whose hips swayed like forbidden fruit. Her grandmother had whispered stories of his concerts, the way he’d croon into the microphone, making women swoon and men tap their feet.

“Graceland,” the DJ continued, “where Elvis lives like a king. The gates are open, folks. If you’re ever in Memphis, pay a visit. Maybe you’ll catch a glimpse of the legend.”

Memphis. Graceland. The name hung in the air like a secret promise. Tinsley traced her fingers over the faded map on her bedroom wall. The distance seemed insurmountable, but the pull was undeniable. She’d saved every penny from her job at the library, dreaming of a chance encounter with the King.

“Why not?” she whispered to the moon outside her window. “Why not chase the echoes of a faded melody all the way to Graceland?”

And so, with a worn suitcase and a heart full of longing, Tinsley boarded the Greyhound bus. The engine roared to life, carrying her across state lines, past rolling hills and sleepy towns. She imagined Elvis’s voice in the wind, urging her forward.

The road stretched ahead, promising adventure, romance, and maybe—just maybe—a glimpse of the man who’d stolen her heart through vinyl grooves and late-night broadcasts.

The Greyhound bus rattled to a stop, and Tinsley stepped onto the moon-soaked pavement of Memphis. The air smelled of barbecue and possibility.

She hailed a taxi, her heart racing. “To Graceland, please.”

The driver glanced at her through the rear-view mirror. “Elvis fan?”

Tinsley nodded, gripping her suitcase. The taxi driver’s gruff voice filled the cab as they wound through the streets of Memphis. His eyes met Tinsley’s in the rear-view mirror again, and he smirked.

“Graceland, huh?” he said, his tone dripping with disdain. “Another one of those Elvis fanatics, I suppose.”

Tinsley clenched her fists. She’d expected excitement, camaraderie—even a shared love for the King. Instead, she got this.

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice steady. “Big fan.”

The driver scoffed. “Elvis, the heartthrob. The man who makes all the girls swoon. You know, he ain’t nothin’ special. Just a hillbilly with a guitar.”

Tinsley’s knuckled turned white. She glanced out the window, catching glimpses of neon signs and bustling crowds. The heart of Memphis beckoned, but the taxi driver’s words hung heavy.

“Seen it all,” he continued, eyes fixed on the road. “Women cryin’, faintin’, throwin’ their panties at him. Ridiculous, if you ask me.”

Tinsley’s mind raced. She’d dreamed of this pilgrimage—the chance to stand where Elvis has stood, to feel the music in her bones. But now, doubt crept in. Was she just another starry-eyed girl?

As they pulled up to a hotel, the driver smirked again. “Enjoy your stay, sweetheart. Maybe Elvis himself will serenade you in your dreams.”

Tinsley stepped out of the cab, her resolve firm. She wouldn’t let this driver’s bitterness tarnish her journey. Graceland awaited, and she’d find her own magic amid the echoes of a faded melody.

“Maybe,” she thought, “just maybe.”

As she stepped into the bustling lobby of the hotel, the air crackled with excitement. The walls seemed to pulse with Elvis’s rhythm, and she was no longer alone in her devotion. Fan girls—some in poodle skirts, others with victory rolls in their hair—gathered around a vintage jukebox, their eyes shining like sequins.

They whispered in hushed tones, sharing stories of Elvis sightings and secret rendezvous. One girl clutched a vinyl record, her trembling fingers tracing the grooves as if seeking a connection to the King himself. Another wore heart-shaped sunglasses, swaying to an imaginary beat.

Tinsley’s heart swelled. She’d found her tribe—the dreamers, the romantics, the ones who believed that music could bridge time and space. They exchanged knowing glances, as if they’d all traveled from different corners of the world to be here, united by their love for the man who’d changed the course of rock ‘n’ roll.

The hotel manager, a stout woman with a beehive hairdo, greeted Tinsley. “Welcome, sugar. Room 217, just up the stairs and down the hall. And don’t miss the Elvis-themed karaoke tonight. You might just catch a glimpse of the King himself.”

Tinsley nodded, her eyes scanning the lobby one last time. She imagined Elvis striding through the door, guitar slung over his shoulder, that crooked smiled lighting up the room. Maybe he’d serenade her under the neon glow, and their love story would begin—a melody woven into the fabric of Graceland.

With a flutter of anticipation, Tinsley headed toward her room, leaving behind the fan girls and their shared dreams. The echoes of Elvis followed her up the stairs and down the hallway, promising magic and romance in every note.

Tinsley closed the door to her room, the faded wallpaper whispering secrets of countless guests who’d passed through. The bed sagged under her weight, and she sank onto it, her emotions swirling like a tempest.

The mirror reflected her tired eyes, framed by loose blonde curls that had rebelled against her hairpins during the bus ride. She traced the lines on her face—the laugh lines from summers spent with her grandmother, the worry lines etched by life’s disappointments.

“Why would a man like Elvis fall for a girl like me?” she wondered aloud, her voice swallowed by the room’s silence. “There’s so many beautiful women out there—women who’d make his heart skip a beat, just like his songs do to me.”

Outside, the neon sign blinked, mocking her vulnerability. Tinsley imagined the other guests—the fan girls with their doe eyes and painted lips. They’d swoon, giggle, and maybe even catch a glimpse of the King. But her? She was just a speck in a grand tapestry of Elvis’s legend.

She pulled out her notebook—the love notes she’d written over the years. Each page held a piece of her heart, inked with longing and dreams. But now, doubt crept in. What did she have to offer? A few scribbled words and a heart that beat out of sync with the world.

“Maybe,” she thought aloud, “I should’ve stayed in Louisiana. Kept my fantasies safe within those four walls.”

But then she remembered the radio, the crackling voice of the DJ, and the promise of Graceland. She’d come this far, chasing whispers and melodies. Maybe, just maybe, she could find her own love story—one that defied logic and reason.

As the neon glow seeped through the curtains, Tinsley made a silent vow. She’d step out of her room, face the fan girls, and embrace the magic of Memphis. Because sometimes, even a girl like her deserves a chance at a heartbreakingly beautiful melody. So she wiped away a tear, adjusted her hairpin, and stepped back into the hallway.

The neon glow spilled onto Beale Street, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the cobblestone pavement. Tinsley stepped out of the hotel, her heart racing. The fan girls had dispersed, leaving behind an electric energy—the kind that only Memphis could conjure.

She wandered past blues clubs, their melodies seeping through the open doorways. Musicians strummed guitars, their raspy voices weaving tales of heartache and redemption. Tinsley paused, leaning against a lamp post, her eyes closed. The music wrapped around her like a lover’s embrace.

“Elvis sang here,” she thought. “Maybe he stood on this very spot, his hips swaying, igniting souls.”

As she walked, she encountered characters straight out of a jukebox ballad. A street vendor sold fried catfish, promising it was the secret to eternal love. An old man with silver hair played chess with a ghost—his laughter echoing into the night.

Tinsley’s heart raced even more as she stepped into a dimly lit club on Beale Street. The air smelled of cigarette smoke and bourbon, and the blues band wailed on stage. The crowd swayed, lost in the rhythm.

And then she saw him.

A man at the bar, bathed in neon. His hair—dark and slicked back—caught the light. The collar of his shirt was open, revealing a hint of his chest. He turned, and their eyes locked—a moment that stretched into eternity.

Elvis? Impossible. But the resemblance—the way he moved, the half-smile—sent shivers down Tinsley’s spine. She pushed through the throng, heart pounding. The man had vanished into the shadows, leaving behind an echo of mystery.

“Was it him?” she wondered. “Or just someone who looked like him?”

Tinsley’s heart weighed heavy as she stepped out of the dimly lit bar. The neon glow seemed harsh now, mocking her hopes. The blues music faded into the night, leaving behind an ache that settled deep within her chest.

“Why did I think it was him?” she wondered, her steps sluggish. “Elvis, the King—what chance did I have?”

The streets of Memphis stretched before her, a maze of memories and missed opportunities. She leaned against a lamp post, staring at the moon—a distant witness to her heartache. The river flowed nearby, its current carrying secrets and lost dreams.

“Maybe I’m just another fan girl chasing echoes,” she thought.

But then she remembered the notebook—the love notes she’d penned, the whispers of her soul. Maybe Elvis wasn’t the answer. Maybe the magic lay in her own words, in the melodies she’d woven.

With renewed determination, Tinsley wiped away a tear. She’d keep walking, keep searching. Because sometimes, even when the King remained elusive, the journey itself held its own kind of beauty.

Tinsley retraced her steps back to the hotel. Her heart still carried the weight of missed chances—the glimpse of the man who might have been Elvis, or perhaps just a figment of her longing.

The hotel’s entrance welcomes her—a familiar refuge. The lobby was dimly lit, the blues music now a distant memory. The manager smiled as Tinsley passed by, as if understanding the ache that clung to her.

In her room, she closed the door behind her. The bed seemed softer, the walls more forgiving. She sank onto the edge, staring out the window at Graceland’s distant lights. The notebook lay on the nightstand, its pages filled with love notes and unanswered questions.

“Maybe the magic isn’t in finding Elvis. Maybe it’s in the journey—the echoes, the melodies, and the hope,” she thought aloud.

Tinsley settled into her room. She’d rest, dream, and wake up to a new day—a day where the King might remain elusive, but her heart would keep singing its bittersweet tune.

The room was hushed, the moon peeking through the curtains. Tinsley lay on the bed, her eyes heavy from the evening’s adventures. As she closed her eyes, the blues melody still echoed in her ears. But now, they transformed—shifting into something softer, more intimate. The rhythm of the river became a lullaby.

[chaotic-on-main]

Chapter 1: November

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, eventual smut (these update with every chapter)

☾ Author's note ➼ Hey guys! This is my first time writing fanfiction in a loooooong time, like the last time I wrote was probably in 2011. So with that said please be kind with any feedback or comments. I hope you enjoy! (also I made Hange's pronouns she/her/them/they)

Edit (11/27/2023): Hey guys, welcome to my little world of Unspoken Words. I have quite literally used this story as a way to better myself as a writer. As you read on, you may find that I've progressed (ofc I have a long way to go) but because of that, my first few chapters might be rough. With your patience, you may find a liking to this story as I know I've loved writing every word of it.

☾ word count ➼ ~7.1k

20-something years ago 

You’re not sure how, but you find yourself sitting in the back of a big, white van. Red and blue lights danced in your eyes, and it felt like a thousand people surrounded you. Something plastic is placed on your face then you are instructed to breathe in deeply. You thought it was funny to be told to breathe, like you don’t just do it naturally, but you follow instructions regardless. It’s hard though, every part of your body hurts, chest included. Every breath you take feels like your insides are on fire.  

‘Fire’, you think.  

Everything is on fire.

 ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Present Day

Levi stood blank faced as he meticulously cleaned the blender station for what felt like the 100th time today. The late afternoon rush had just tapered down so he took advantage of the next to empty café to clean as much as he could before closing for the evening.  

“It’s 20 degrees outside, how are people still wanting frozen drinks.” he murmurs to himself, placing the blender back in its spot. Levi turns to the front counter and slings the towel he was using to dry things onto his shoulder.  

His best friend, roommate, and business partner could be seen restocking some books on tall shelves, a gentle smile lighting up his boyish features. It’s been about a year and a half since they started this business venture together and they had no idea at the time how successful their bookstore-café combo would be in this small town.  

Erwin’s thirst for knowledge kept their shelves as variable as ever while Levi’s love for perfecting the art of tea kept the drinks flowing. The problem, however, was Levi’s lack of people skills. He was seldom seen at the register, nor would you ever see him smile or talk to the customers. He often would leave you with a grunt and a swift turn after handing off the drinks.  

No, for that, they had hired a couple of local highschoolers to do the facing work.  

“Mr. Smith, Levi?” a soft voice rang out to the left of him. Levi shifted his attention to a taller girl with shoulder length raven hair standing next to him. Being as Mikasa is his cousin, they found early on how weird it was to be called ‘Mr. Ackerman’ as they shared the same surname. It was this connection too that got them to where they are today.  

“Would it be okay if Eren and I take off a little early tonight? We have some big tests coming up and we’d like to take some extra time to study.” Mikasa shifted her dark eyes to the darkening windows as the sun set just over the horizon. Pinks and oranges flooded the partially clouded skies.  

”Tch.” Levi could not help but roll his eyes. He raised a brow at her and leaned back against the counter behind him for support. “Sure, I guess,” he continues. “But do you really need it or is it for that blockhead?”  

As if summoned by his words, Eren comes up from behind Mikasa and wraps a red scarf around his girlfriend’s neck, both of their jackets hanging off one of his arms. Eren is a good kid, always on time and followed directions, but the amount of sass he held in his body was something else. Levi and Erwin did not mind though, as he added a certain energy in the café that the customers seemed to enjoy. The two men wouldn’t say it out loud, but they really appreciated having them both on the team.  

“Hey, I heard that. And yes, I need to study desperately. Econ is so hard and for what?!” Eren’s teal eyes widened for emphasis. To add to it he even put on a fake pout.  

“I-”  

“Just take the trash with you on the way out and you’re good to go.” Erwin piped up from behind a bookshelf.  

Mikasa nodded in acknowledgement towards the voice, a silent thank you. Like Levi, she was not one for many words. He once thought it was an Ackerman thing but then he thought back to his annoying uncle and changed his mind quickly.  

With that, she and Eren both untangled the aprons from their bodies, grabbed their belongings, and picked up the trash bags that were already taken out of the cans. They opted to leave through the back since the dumpsters were located that way. Again, Levi wouldn’t say it to anyone out loud, but he really did like those kids.  

Erwin could be heard stacking more books into the shelves which left Levi to polish the counters again. It was the last hour before they closed so it stayed quiet for the most part, only interrupted by the sounds of scuffling shoes and books being placed on hard surfaces. Light jazz filled the rest of the silence. Then the bell signifying new customers rang from the front.  

“Levi, can you grab that?”  

The raven-haired man just huffed in response then stepped over to the register. His eyes fell on two figures right in front of him. A frazzled brunette and... you.  

Due to the season, you are bundled up in a thick parka and knitted beanie. A big scarf wraps around your neck and face so that all Levi could see is your flushed cheeks and thick lashed eyes. Truthfully, you reminded him of a marshmallow.  

“What’ll it be?” he asks, deadpan. The brunette is the one to respond, the voice loud enough to make him wince.  

“Hmmm... well one English breakfast tea latte with lots of room for sugar aaaaand I’ll take a peppermint hot chocolate. Oh, and extra whip! We’ll drink it here.” She fished out a card with a dramatic thwip and handed it to Levi’s outstretched hand.  Their café is one of those where if you were to stay, they offered washable cup ware as to keep the prices down on disposable cups. Not to mention the lessened ‘environmental impact’ as Erwin would say.  

Levi glances at you before turning to make both orders. You give a small wave and smile a little, but he was already working quickly on the drinks. 

He went into autopilot as he steeped the tea and steamed the milk. He really appreciated customers that ordered anything outside of coffee, especially when it came to tea. It’s not that he hated coffee, though it’s not like he liked it either, but it just wasn’t his thing. Coffee offered a different kind of bitterness that he wasn’t very fond of. With extra whipped cream in one and extra space in the other, he whirled around to place the drinks on the counter.  

The one with glasses is the one that picks them up and they promptly walk in the direction of where you currently sit, one of the tables in the back corner by the window. You were stripped of your big parka and scarf, though the beanie stayed. Your eyes were wandering around the café in wonder, and Levi was pretty sure this had to be your first time here. But truthfully, he wouldn’t know, he didn’t make it his business to know his customers. That was Erwin’s and the kids’ job. 

“The shelves are full and I’m exhausted.” Erwin came around the counter with a couple of empty boxes in his arms, heading straight for the back to the dumpster. Levi stepped back and leaned against the counter once again, his own black tea that had steeped while making yours cradled in his fingertips. He kept looking at his only customers while he sipped the black liquid. The teacup almost slipped out of his grip as he saw you dumping a large amount of sugar into your cup.  

 There you sit, extremely focused on the cup in front of you and lips pressed together tightly, almost as if you were afraid you’d put in too much. The sight would have been funny if you hadn’t just ruined your entire tea, he thinks to himself. You smile to yourself in satisfaction and put the sugar jar back where it came from. While you stir the sweetener in gently, the brunette in front of you talks animatedly. Hands were flying everywhere, and Levi could practically feel the energy radiating from the corner of the room.  You were doing the same, silently laughing. 

Suddenly the front door flew open, the bell ringing loudly with it. Levi grits his teeth, steeling himself for yet another customer interaction. But his shoulders dropped in relief at the sight of only Carly, Erwin’s girlfriend. She saunters up to the counter with a big smile aimed towards Levi and without even asking she slid behind the bar. Erwin had already made it from the back and was in the process of putting away the leftover ingredients from the day. Carly wraps her arms around her boyfriend and plants a big kiss on his face, to which Levi quickly looks away. It wasn’t weird for her to come in right as they were about to close.  

What was weird, he thought, was the shock that flooded your face as you eyed the very public display of affection. Levi knit his brows in confusion as the brunette pivoted in her seat to see what you were staring at. Their face fell, any evidence of a good time completely erased.  

“Carly?”  

The person in question whipped around so fast at the voice and the panic that exuded from her was palpable. She quickly unwrapped herself from Erwin’s embrace.  

“Hange.”  

If it wasn’t for the jazz in the background, the lengthy silence that followed would have been deathly.  

Carly clears her throat and laughs awkwardly.  

“Uh, why are you here?”  

The person named Hange just lifts their hot chocolate cup awkwardly, not really saying anything. Their eyes shift between Carly and Erwin, clearly understanding what had happened.  

“I-I’m sorry, you guys know each other?” Erwin sounds cautious, like he already knew the answer. Of course, he would, he isn’t dumb. His piercing blue eyes survey the situation, going back and forth between the two.  

“Well, uh. I-” Carly stutters, clearly at a loss of what to say in the predicament she found herself in.  

“She’s my girlfriend.” Hange claims calmly.  

This admission makes Erwin sigh heavily, confirming what he had pieced together. Levi stared at him in bewilderment as the man just chuckled quietly.  

“Well. I suppose that’s it then.” And with that he turns on his heel and stalks off to the back room. 

“Wait, Erwin I can explain!” She follows right on his heels and disappears into the back room as well. A minute later you can hear hysterical crying and calm retorts reverberating from the back. If Levi could shrink into the cabinets to get out of this situation, he would. Instead, he focuses on the other party who were having a very quiet and rushed discussion. Well, a one-sided discussion, as he only heard one voice.  

Levi, realizing it was almost time to close anyways, rushes to close the distance between him and the front door. He really did not want to have to deal with other customers while the drama unfurled. So, he flips the door sign to ‘Closed’ and unplugs the ‘Open’ neon sign hanging in the window. A couple walks by about to open the door, probably out for a café date from the looks of it. But they were only met with a dead stare from the sharpest eyes they’d ever seen. With that, they briskly turned around and left down the sidewalk.  

Levi spins around and from here he gets a better look at the two trapped customers. You were moving your hands all over the place like you were earlier. But with an even closer look he realizes you weren’t just talking animatedly with your hands; you were talking with them. You were signing. 

You reacted to your partner’s conversation just fine, so it was clear you had some sort of hearing. Your scarf now hung loose around your shoulders, and it looked like you had tears brimming in your eyes. Levi swiftly walks back to the counter; this is obviously not a conversation he needed to be a part of.

“Hey, don’t worry about me. It’s only been a couple of months. Really, it’s better to find out now than 3 years from now.” They laughed without humor. You know when Hange was saving face for your sake, she was never as sly as she thought she was.  

‘You don’t need to be strong right now.’ You sign then reach your hand out to touch her cheek softly. Physical touch had become your second language early on, if only to emphasize. Fortunately, Hange was okay with that and often embraced it with open arms.  

“I know, my little strawberry. I just need some time to process everything.” They pat you on the head lightly with a small grin. You swat their hands, blushing at the nickname you were so graciously given so many years ago.  But you nod back, knowing they would not change their mind.  

The tall blonde glides through the back door, alone. His face was grim as he tugged loose the tie around his neck.  

“Hange, was it?” He started walking towards you and your very startled sister.  

“U-uh yeah. That’s my name! Listen I had no idea, I’m so sorry. I would have said something obviously but-”, they take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. What’s your name again?”  

“Erwin Smith. There is nothing to apologize for as I can only assume there’s only one blame to be given. I hate that we must meet under such a circumstance, but it is truly nice to meet you.” He raises a hand waiting for a handshake.  

Hange takes it after a second of processing, shaking the hand vigorously with both hands.  

“Well, unfortunately it is what it is. I’m sure Carly and I will be speaking soon. I’m assuming she’s not just hiding back there.” They flick their gaze to the back door he had just come through.  

“Ah well, yes. Long gone... how long were you two...?”  

“Only like, 3 months or so. You?” 

He flinched at that and murmured, “3 Years.” 

Thinking back to her comment not 10 minutes ago, Hange bit their cheek.  

“Oh man I’m so sorry.”  

“No, please. It’s alright. None of this is yours or my fault. We couldn’t have known, but now we do.” Erwin chuckled to himself. You wonder if he’s trying to save face the way your sister did. His gaze now shifts to you. He is a very handsome man. To your extreme surprise, he starts signing to you. 

‘I'm sorry, who might you be? I noticed you signing earlier. I know a little from the books I have read.’ His crystal blue eyes sparkle at you as he signs. You can’t help but break out into a huge grin. You sign your name back and compliment him on his raw signing form.  

‘I am of hearing, though. So please feel free to talk, and I will sign back.’ You clarify to Erwin, the smile not falling from your face.  

“That sounds like a plan. Levi, stop hiding behind the counter and come say hi.” Erwin calls out, not bothering to look over his shoulder. You hear a grunt in response and not 10 seconds later, the barista stands cross armed next Erwin. He nods a hello to each of you.  

You knew he was shorter than you, at least a couple inches, based off the interaction at the counter earlier. But seeing him side by side with his friend was almost comical. But as short stature as he was, it did not keep him from holding himself with such authority. It made you nervous.  

‘Thank you for the tea, it was very good.’ You sign, your sister translating in real time for you.  

“Tch, are you sure? I saw you dump enough sugar in it to make it syrup.” Levi retorts dryly.  

That makes you smile sheepishly. His fixated stare unnerved you a little, but you stare back regardless. Now that he was closer, a glass case no longer between the both of you, your eyes traveled along his face in close inspection. 

He’s beautiful, you think to yourself. His features are sharp and angled. Steely gray eyes pronounced a permanent exhausted look. It was a shade of gray you’ve never seen before, and they were mesmerizing. As if he could feel you staring holes in his face, he flicks his eyes to the side, clearly uncomfortable. But you can’t help it, because really the most intriguing thing about him was not his metallic eyes. It was the scars that marred his porcelain skin.  

A couple of scars ran down the right side of his face. The prominent of the two trailed from the top right of his forehead all the way down to his chin, cutting into his right eye and both lips. You’re pretty sure his eye was quite damaged due to the slight muted discoloration of the eye color.  

He’s beautiful, you repeat to yourself. You glance over to Hange, and they just look over at you with a knowing look. You know she was just begging to ask Levi too, but she just shakes her head. So, you fold your hands together and pinch your lips together.  

“Well!” Hange yells out, breaking the silence. “This human really needs a drink. Let’s all go! Erwin, I demand you let me treat you to a couple drinks!” She wraps an arm around your shoulders and laughs.  

“A drink sounds fantastic; I will gladly take you up on that offer. Let me just close up rea-” He’s cut off by Levi raising both of his hands up in protest. You notice the two missing fingers on his right hand. The pointer and middle were gone. Whatever this man went through, you just had to know. But you toss those questions onto an ever-growing pile and bite your cheek.  

“Erwin, I can close up. You go ahead.” Your sister just smiles widely and practically jumped up and down. The blonde man just clapped his hand Levi’s shoulder and smiled at him.  

“Thank you. You’ll join us after? The usual place?” Levi just shrugs his shoulders in response.  

Part of you hoped he would. You couldn’t place a singular reason why though.  

.

Fifteen minutes later, the three of you found yourselves in a well-lit and very crowded bar. Somehow Erwin had snagged a table near the back wall. Heavy rock blares loudly from a live band maybe 20 feet away. Overwhelming was an understatement, but you grit your teeth and sit down on one of the stools.  

“Whatcha want, my darlings?!” Hange yells over the music, slapping both hands down on the table and staring at the both of you.  

“Whiskey neat, whatever they offer is fine.”  

You sign the words ‘apple’ and ‘juice’ followed by a ‘thank you’. You’ve never been one for a drink. While it was tolerable to be around, you’d rather not have to taste it if you could help it.  

Looking around, you see all manners of people surrounding you. Something about it makes your stomach turn but you shift in your seat to quell it down. You’re sure it’s only so crowded because of the prospect of a Friday night and the promise of no plans the following day. The town of Jinae was not anything special, but it was quaint. You and your sister found out quickly it was a place where everyone knew mostly everyone. After only settling down here from your hometown 5 months ago, you were still learning of all the local spots.  

From the looks of it, this bar was one of those. “The Scouts” was an inviting place, decorated with dark greens and wood tones. The walls were littered with many frames of a lot of different people. You imagine it might have been local residents in various locations of the town. All of the wood was worn down, so it was clear this place has been in business for a while. A neon sign hangs above the stage where the live band played, something that resembled blue and white wings. It makes you wonder what the significance is.  

Your thoughts are disturbed as a glass is placed in front of you. Realizing the dryness in your throat, you pick up the glass and take a big swig of the amber liquid. You’re met with a burning sensation, and you gag. This alerts Hange of the unfortunate mistake.  

“Ah I’m sorry my little strawberry!! They do look quite similar though, don’t they?” They switch the glasses quickly and laugh. You notice the very noticeable cup size differences between the two and you stare at her quizzically. “I may have taken a shot while at the bar, sorry.” she adds on. It makes you shake your head, but you grab her hand reassuringly and chuckle.  

‘I’m sorry.’ You sign at Erwin, and he just smiles back.  

“Not a problem. But I have to ask, how was it?” A bushy eyebrow raises at you in amusement.  

You just stick your tongue out and make a gagging gesture at him. You laugh though, not really upset.  

Two apple juices in, the live band ends. Hange and Erwin are very deep in conversation, which you suspect might be about Carly. You can’t really hear what’s being said though. With the absence of music, chatter quickly fills the air. Honestly it was really starting to get to you. So, after tapping on the pair’s shoulders and signing where you were going, you find yourself leaning over the guard rail just outside the bar’s door.  

The sun was already far gone. A crescent moon sits high in the sky and a smatter of stars surrounds it. The cold air felt very welcome on your very flushed face. You exhale a big sigh, which garners a puff of steam. It makes you laugh so you do it again. Then you start to wonder how long you might be able to last out here before getting frostbite when suddenly a body starts leaning against the rail next to you.  

With a start, you whip your head to face the newcomer. Instantly you relax at the sight of Erwin’s friend. He was adorned in a big peacoat and his casual slacks. A tan turtleneck sweater peaks out from the jacket’s collar. His face was flushed as well, no doubt from the cold.  

Levi. 

He wasn’t paying you any mind though, instead his gaze laid upon the sky above, at the stars. You wave at him anyways and offer a small smile. He glances at you with a side eye and returns a curt nod.  

Not one for words. 

So, you both stand there in silence, staring up at the twinkling lights above. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. Something about his presence radiated a sort of calm, and you were happy to bask in it.  

After a few minutes, he shifts his weight in your direction, so you face him. He’s staring up at you and it makes you swallow hard. His eyes glowed silver from the moonlight. Truly you have never been this fascinated with a person until now.  

“You like the stars.” It wasn’t a question, more like a statement.  

You nod in agreement, smiling to emphasize your love for them. He purses his lips at that. It seemed as if he wanted to say something else to that, but nothing came out. It just makes you frown a bit. You just have more questions that keep piling up. Everything about him just emanated mystery and it made you want to know all about him.  

‘Are you okay?’ You sign to him, exaggerating your frown to show your concern. You’re only met with a look of confusion. You forget that he does not know much if any sign. And you kick yourself for leaving your communication tools at home. To be fair though, this is not where you expected to be tonight.  

You then get an idea to use your phone to type to him but before you even reach into your pocket, you’re interrupted by a sudden blast of warm air as a couple stumbles out of the bar, both in a giggling fit as they cling to each other. They take off down the road, laughing even harder. The brief warm air makes you shiver, reminding you of the cold outside.  

As if thinking the same thing, Levi catches the door before it closes and holds it open for the both of you. You’re suddenly well aware of the very loud singing happening from within and your eyes widen at the familiarity of one of the voices. You and Levi make your way to the voices and are greeted with the sight of Erwin and Hange duetting a Backstreet Boys song.  

What a sight it was. The tall brunette, face flushed and glasses askew, had their arm around Erwin. He his blonde hair was quite tousled, and he looked like he was having the time of his life. They both swayed together as they belted out the lyrics. As if their smiles were contagious, you felt yourself grin. It was kind of cute. So, you pull out your phone and snap a quick picture, sure to show Hange in the morning. It was a good thing too, because the song ends right as you put your phone away in your bag. Levi clicks his tongue and huffs. You glance over at the noise and notice a small upturn to the corner of his scarred mouth. Noticing your gaze, his face vacates itself from any emotion as he stares back ahead.  

“Oi! Eyebrows!” He calls out to his friend. Levi starts making his way to the stage, walking with a slight limp. Yet another question to add onto the pile. “I’m gone for 45 minutes and you’re already singing.”  

“I’m fine! Just a couple drinks in.”  

You all make your way to the table you had laid claim to earlier. You survey the table and count at least 6 more glasses, not counting your two. It was hard to see who drank what.  

‘Are you okay?’ You sign to your sister, concern etched on your face. They just nod lazily and give a thumbs up with both hands. Levi is regarding you with a look of understanding, and it seems he realized that you had asked him outside.  Music starts playing over the speakers again, and people start making their way to the dance floor. Hange squeals and downs the rest of her drink quickly.  

“Erwin let’s go!” She grabs his arm, not waiting for a response. He gives a mock salute to the two of you and follows without question. Levi just clicks his tongue again and heads to the bar to get himself something. So, you plop yourself down on the stool and stare out into the room. Out of nervous habit you start fidgeting with the napkins in front of you. A moment later, Levi’s hobbling over with a tray of drinks. 

“I got the idiots some water, they look like they need it.” He places the glasses down with a thud, including one of his own housing some sort of caramel liquid. Then he’s sliding something over to you and you’re about to protest that you don’t drink but you realize it’s not a glass. It’s a notepad and pen.  

“If you need something, this might come in handy.” is all he says.  

You’re quick to show your appreciation with a bright smile. You also note to yourself that you could have very well have used your phone to communicate but you were not one to disregard someone’s thoughtfulness. It makes something bloom in your chest, warm and comforting.  

Your many years of not having a phone of course meant writing – a lot. Your handwriting evolved plenty with time so that meant it was extremely neat. It had to have been so that the reader would be able to read it without an issue. 

First you write your name, as you realize no one had really said it out loud while at the teashop. Following that you add ‘I think your shop is wonderful, and I really did enjoy the tea you made.’ You also want to jot down the questions from earlier that were still swimming in your mind, but you hold yourself back. You tell yourself maybe later, granted if there would even be a later.   

When angling the paper so he could see it, his eyes flit across the words quickly and you’re given a grunt in acknowledgement. Pulling back the notepad, you bite the inside of your cheek. While it wasn’t awkward being next to him, he sure made it hard to talk to. His cold demeanor gave you the feeling he wasn’t the type to talk about himself, especially with someone he just met. So, asking questions about him or his life was out the window. Likewise, he did not really seem interested in hearing your life story, not like you were planning to spill it anyways for fear of being met with disdain. You had plenty of experiences with that growing up.  

Tapping the pen against your chin, your eyes drift around the bar room. There a multitude of people lingering about, shouting over each other to be heard. A couple sits in a corner, whispering who knows what to each other. Both of their cheeks are flushed and eyes heavy with lust. A handful of people are on the dance floor grinding away, your sister and new friend sticking out like a sore thumb as they dance with reckless abandon. All of this gave you an idea, remembering something you’ve read before many moons ago. You start scrawling on the paper again.  

‘Are you a gambling man, Levi?’ 

You shift the pad back over to him and he glances down again after taking another sip of his spirit. He was holding his glass in a way you’d never seen before and honestly it was a little weird.  

“Tch, hardly. Why do you ask?” He looks hard at you as you scratch something else down.  

‘I propose a game to pass the time. Let’s make some bets about the random people in this room.’ 

He looks at you incredulously. You stand your ground, not averting your gaze even a little. When you don’t back down, he just scoffs and shakes his head at you.  

“I literally could not care less about these people,” he clicks his tongue. “But I suppose there’s not much else to do so I’ll bite.” Knocking back the rest of his drink, he moves around you to lean back against the wall so that he is facing the rest of the crowd. You shift so that you are doing the same. You don’t overlook the proximity to the shorter man, nor the fact that your arms are almost touching. You start to scribble once more.  

‘Winner gets to ask the loser one question.’ As his eyes fall on your words, he seems a little taken aback. Levi seems to think for a moment, like he’s weighing his pros and cons.  

“One non-personal question.” He amends. You both nod in agreement. So, your eyes travel around the room, looking for your first target. It falls on a group not so far away.  

‘I bet that gaggle of young girls over there are here for a bridal party.’

You point in the direction of the said group. Currently they were taking tequila shots, lime and all. All of them sparkled and were dressed up to the nines, save for the silly little hats adorning their heads. And they were having so much fun.  

“No way,” Levi scoffs, “That has to be a 21st birthday. They all look like babies.”  

Suddenly someone comes through a parting in the crowd with a tray of assorted colorful drinks garnished with cute little accessories. They all yell in excitement at the sight. One of the girls raises her glass and starts shouting.  

“To Estelle! May your married life be full of infinite love, happiness, and orgasms!” They all cheer and take big gulps of their drinks, followed by more giggling.  

Levi glances art you, his gray eyes dull in the dim bar light. An eyebrow lifts at you as well.  

“How did you know?” 

You do a sweeping gesture starting from one shoulder down to the opposite hip. He looks back over to the women and conveniently the soon-to-be-bride had faced your direction. She was indeed wearing a white sash sporting the word ‘BRIDE’ in bright pink letters. He huffs as he rolls his eyes, and you smirk at him in return. You press the pad over to him, already equipped with your question.  

Levi scoffs at your question. As promised, it wasn’t very personal. You figured ice breaker like questions were a good start. But his pause made you question if this was a good idea, you didn’t want to run him off or make him uncomfortable. Then he clicks his tongue, and his face softens ever so slightly.  

“My favorite hobby, huh? It would have to be cleaning.” He simply states. 

Cleaning?  

‘Like mopping, dusting, all that jazz?’  

“Yeah, it brings me peace. I like the control. Plus, I can't stand filthy things, people, or places. It’s repugnant.” He scrunches his nose at the last statement. A laugh bubbles up and you can’t help but let it loose. You’re shot with a glare and a sharp tone.  

“Funny?”  

You shake your head no and smile lightly while your hands move adeptly on the pad.  

‘Not funny, just amusing because it’s not something I would have expected. It’s different. If it makes you happy then it is an admirable hobby.’ 

Levi’s looking away from you now. If it wasn’t so dim, you would have seen there was a light dusting of pink color his cheeks and ears. He clears his throat and scans the room for his victim. His eyes land on the couple in the back corner whispering to each other. He notices their not-so-subtle hand movements as they felt each other up. Nodding in their direction, he looks back over to you, leaning close so you can hear.  

“I bet that couple will get up in the next 3 minutes and excuse themselves to somewhere private.” Your eyes travel in that direction, only to look away hastily at such an intimate scene. You’re not able to think of a counter-bet because honestly, you’re thinking the same thing. Your eyes settle back to his face, but he’s already looking back at the couple. If he noticed you staring, he didn’t say. Suddenly his face is filled with a satisfied look, only to be replaced quickly with a look of horror. You follow his gaze again, afraid of what you might see.

Fortunately, it’s nothing risqué, as you catch the tail end of the couple slipping into one of the public, unmarked restrooms. But the thought of their future actions was enough to gross you out. Looking back at Levi, you scrunch your face up in disgust. He nods in understanding.  

“This is why we don’t use public restrooms, especially in a bar.” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his good hand. “When I said somewhere private, I meant like a residence or something. Filthy animals, unbelievable. They better scrub that bathroom down. Maybe I should tell the bartender when they’re done. Maybe I should help clean.” 

His retorts crack you up, your shoulders bouncing from silent laughter. He just stares at you impassively as he runs his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face.  

“Well, it’s not like we should ruin their fun. Anyways I suppose I won. Let’s see... what’s your favorite color?” 

You part your lips, dumbfounded. This was never an easy question, as you found joy in a lot of different colors. You bite your lip and start writing, but after a couple minutes Levi rips the pad from your hands out of impatience.  

salmon 

turquoise? 

canary yellow! 

orange 

dark forest gre- 

He just looks at you in alarm.  

“Just pick one.” he scolds. 

You snatch the pad back and scribble down, ‘It’s not that simple!’  

“It is to me. White, easy.” You just stare right back at him, not believing what you just heard. Out of all the many shades and hues out there, this man decides the color white.  

‘Why?’ 

“It’s clean.” is the only response you get.  

It makes sense, you think. But seriously, this man was so weird. But like you said earlier, it was different and that made it refreshing to you. You start searching for your next bet.  

As if in a scene from a movie you’ve seen a dozen times came to life, your eyes snap to a lone woman sitting at the bar, nursing a drink and playing on her phone. A couple seats down, you spot a few men chatting. One of the men is staring hard at the very oblivious woman. You nudge Levi with your elbow, not unnoticing the slight flinch from your touch. You point to the scene, and he is quick to understand.  

“I bet when he walks over to her, she’ll get up and leave.” He says confidently.  

Trusting your instincts, you scrawl back quickly as you notice the man started making his way towards the woman. Sticking your tongue out at him, you angle the pad to him so he could see.  

‘Absolutely not. She’ll tell him off right away.’  

To both yours and his surprise, not one moment later she throws the rest of her drink contents onto the man’s head. She gathers her belongings, throws a wad of bills on to the bar, then stomps out of the establishment. The rejected man staggers back to his friends, and they applaud him for his supposed gall. This event left you both stunned. There’s a moment of pause where you and Levi just stare at each other before all hell breaks loose as he starts talking and you start scribbling furiously.  

“She walked away, I win.”  

‘She threw that drink on him, that’s practically telling him off. And that happened before any walking off.’  

“That hardly counts, no words were used.” He scoffs and folds his arms across his chest as he stares hard at you. You weren’t sure if the indignation was real or not, but it was evident in his face.   

‘Words are not always needed to convey intent.’ You shoot back at him, shifting your weight to tap your foot defiantly. You would know this of course.  

This makes Levi pause. He opens his mouth to say something but then Erwin and Hange came crashing into the little bubble you two had made. Suddenly the sounds of clinking glasses and mindless chatter came rushing in and you took a step back.  

“Um, I think Hange might have had a little too much tonight.” Erwin says, to which your attention is drawn to a very drunk Hange. They were a blubbering, sobbing mess. Whining about things that ranged from Carly to her work stress and everything in between. Your sister rarely got this drunk, but you imagine the events from earlier might have been her breaking point. This was a sign to get her home.  

You hastily round the table to wrap her arm around you and prop her up. Then after whipping a $20 out of your purse and throwing it on the table in front of the boys, you give them a grateful smile and sign to Erwin.  

‘Thank you both for tonight. She and I had a lot of fun. But I need to get her home before she gets worse.’ As if on cue, they let out a loud wail and start sobbing into your shoulder. You shift your body to hold them closer so that you don’t drop them. Erwin grabs your $20 and shoves it back in your purse before zipping it up. He had left you no time to protest as he places a large hand on your shoulder and stares intensely at you.  

“Please, let me take care of this. Tell them this was an exceptional time. And to please stop by the café again, we owe each a good, sober talk.” His bright blue eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at you warmly. “It was a pleasure meeting you too. I hope you join Hange on the café visits as well. I think Levi has warmed up to you just nicely.” He wiggles an eyebrow at his friend. Levi just shoves him back and rolls his eyes.  

“Tch, fuck off. She’s alright, I guess.” He’s staring at you now, not as cold as before. “You owe me an answer next time we meet.”  

You purse your lips at him and shake your head in disagreement. 

‘I totally won that, don’t even think otherwise.’ You jot down lazily on the notepad still on the table. It wasn’t as neat, but you were propping up a whole human, you couldn’t help it.   

“Are you sure you’re safe to get home okay? We can he-” You cut Erwin off with a wave of the hand. Their spot of choice was actually very lucky, as you only live a few minutes away. And to be honest, you needed the cold air. So, you sign a quick goodbye to your new friends and make your way out. 

Walking down the snowy sidewalk, you pat Hange’s head as she grumbles about random things. She opted to walk herself, but you kept your hand in theirs to lead them in the right direction. She only stumbled a few times but overall, you were able to keep a steady pace. You note that before you left, her glass of water had been untouched, so you make a mental reminder to hydrate her before throwing her in bed.  

‘Alcohol was not kind to those in their 30s’ you heard their voice say in the back of your mind.  

As your steps left crunching noises in their wake, you peer up at the moon and glittering stars. A certain raven-haired and silver-eyed man etched in your brain. You wonder how soon it will be before seeing him again.  

‘Levi’ you sign to yourself with a free hand. A smile cemented to your face the whole way home.

☾ Next Chapter: December

[avanatural]

That Simple

Part 2

Series summary: Beau goes to Y/N, a new friend of his, for some dating advice. Is the charming new Sheriff gonna get the date that he’s hoping for?

Pairing: Beau Arlen x female Reader

Category: Fluff

Word count: 1.8k

Chapter warnings: Mentions of guns, sexual tension

A/N: This is part two to That Simple. It was originally supposed to be a one shot, but I loved writing it too much to leave it behind just yet. I hope you like it! Send me an ask if you want to be added to my Beau tag list ❤️

Part 1 | Series Masterlist | Beau Arlen Masterlist | Part 3

Main Masterlist

“Like that?” She felt weird, holding the heavy piece of steel in her hand. Perhaps she just wasn’t cut out for this.

Beau smacked his lips and tilted his head to the side. “Not quite. Here, lemme show you.” He stepped behind her. His arms circled around her, mimicking her grip on the gun. He caged her in his embrace. “This okay?”

Y/N smiled to herself. Maybe a date at the shooting range had its perks, after all. “Yeah.”

“A steady grip like this…,” Beau explained as his hands covered hers around the gun. His palms were so big in comparison, easily engulfing hers in his gentle touch. Using his grasp on her, he adjusted both her stance and her hold on the weapon. “… will give you more stability.” By now, his mouth was hovering right next to her ear.

The deep sound of his voice sank right into her soul, seeping into the depths of body. Her lower belly was flooded with butterflies. Y/N felt a chill in her bones, a heat in her chest. 

A tingling sensation shot from the top of her head right down to her toes, making them curl. Beau’s lips next to her ear, his front against her back, his arms around her body, it all made her feel giddy. Ready to implode with longing.

“Now aim…,” he continued, making Y/N wonder if he was actually oblivious to the effect he had on her. Beau used his hands to guide her arms, pointing the barrel of the handgun at the target’s head. “Yeah... Just like that,” he breathed.

This time, she couldn’t contain the shiver that took over her body and made her muscles convulse. She was lucky she didn’t moan right then and there.

“You okay there, Y/N?”, he drawled and she could have sworn she felt him grin against her ear.

What a glorious tease he was. Raw temptation served on a silver platter.

“Yeah.” She tried to laugh off her arousal. “I think I got it from here.”

“Alright.” He released her hands and took a step back. One of his palms wandered to the side of her waist as he encouraged her, “Go on, show him what you’re made of.” He nodded at the target before letting go of Y/N entirely. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he observed her with anticipation.

As a result of losing Beau’s warmth, she felt a breeze of cold air against her back. She took a breath, careful not to change her aim, and pulled the trigger. Her shot shattered the silence and echoed through the building with booming intensity.

Y/N hit the target’s head, dead-on. Once realization kicked in, she lowered the gun with a surprised little chuckle.

“Ha-ha!”, Beau exclaimed and clapped his hands together, “That’s my girl!”

When Y/N turned around, a huge smile was plastered on his face. His pearly white teeth were on full display, and his apple green orbs beamed with pride. Gosh, she wanted to kiss him right on the spot.

“Well done, darlin’,” he praised. The light in his eyes was almost blinding.

“I think that had little to do with me, and much more to do with you.”

“Come on, cut yourself some slack.” Beau smiled and squeezed her upper arm. “I’ve been doin’ this for ages, and you…” His free hand came up to tenderly brush some hair behind her ear. “Are a natural.”

“So, do I get a reward?”, she asked, gazing up at him doe-eyed.

His fingers moved from her ear to her cheek. Subtly, the pad of his thumb swiped along her skin. “Local diner?”, he suggested, “Food’s on me, including a large side of cheese fries.”

“Mhh,” she moaned and leaned into his touch. Little did he know her reaction wasn’t entirely due to the fact that she was starving. 

Beau just had this magnetic force about him. The closer she was to him, the safer she felt. His arms were like a fence, like a shield that protected her from everything unpleasant. 

Beau’s emerald eyes darkened with a playful glimmer. His voice dropped an octave, which only served to intensify the giddy feeling in Y/N’s stomach. “You keep making sounds like that, you’re gonna make me hungry for somethin’ else.”

Yes, please. Batting her eyelashes at him, she placed her hands on his chest. It was solid and warm. So tempting. Judging from his face and the backs of his hands, she was certain his torso was covered in freckles, too. “Would that be so bad?”, she rasped.

Beau’s gaze dropped to her lips. He bent forward, his minty breath fanning against her face. “Oh, quite the opposite,” he husked.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as he closed the distance between them. But just as he was about to press his voluptuous lips to hers, the sounds of footsteps broke the two of them apart.

Beau’s brow knitted against hers. He dragged his bottom lip through his teeth, frustrated. The mood had been killed by three other people entering the shooting range. “Let’s get outta here, yeah?”, he muttered, his voice still heavy with yearning.

For a few more seconds, Y/N reveled in the sensation of breathing his air, of his green gaze boring right into her eyes. She had literally forgotten that they were in a public place. 

Beau could do that to you – beam you into a different reality in which nothing existed except for his beauty, charm, and incredible heart.

“Alright,” she muttered quietly, “I’m starving, anyway.”

Reluctantly, Beau broke away from her and led her outside with his hand on her lower back.

“That was probably the most unique date I’ve ever had,” Y/N said as she stepped up the front porch with Beau next to her. “Why the shooting range?”

He shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. “What, you’re tellin’ me that’s not every woman’s dream?”

The two of them shared a few seconds of laughter and came to a halt in front of her door.

“I just…” Beau shifted on his feet as their laughter died down. “I want you to be able to protect yourself,” he admitted. The strength and cheerfulness that usually laced his voice were stripped away, leaving behind only honest sounds of vulnerability.

Y/N leaned against her front door and tried to read the expression on his face. “Is that why you want our next date to take place at the gym?”

“I just wanna teach you to spar, is all.” Beau pulled his large hands from his pockets and raised them in defense. “Just a couple moves. After that, we’ll do whatever you like. I promise.”

Her lips curved with an affectionate smile. She knocked the tips of her shoes against his boots, just like she had after their very first date. Her fingers came up to cup his cheek. She fondly caressed his stubble and the smooth skin underneath.

“Alright,” she agreed. Y/N wondered if she’d ever met a man as caring as Beau Arlen.

He briefly closed his eyes and nuzzled her hand. “Thank you,” he mumbled, his throaty voice barely audible. Knowing that his treasure would be able to protect herself was going to help him sleep at night.

“As long as you’re not gonna make me go on runs,” Y/N warned.

Beau started to laugh and shook his head. He was grateful that she’d offered him an intro to dive back into more lighthearted waters. “Don’t worry, ain’t gonna happen,” he vowed.

Y/N listened intently as a few more chuckles escaped his lips. She loved his laugh, she really did. When Beau laughed, the whole world instantly seemed a little brighter. A little more colorful. It was that one sound that spoke to her soul the very most.

“Come ‘ere,” he said and pulled her close by the hips. The sweet scent of her perfume put him in a trance, making him bow his head and join their lips in slow motion. Once his lips collided with hers, he made every tilt of his head, every swipe of his tongue count.

Y/N hummed into his kiss and grabbed the lapels of his jacket. She knew she would never get tired of kissing Beau. It felt like an entirely new experience every single time. With those plump, pink lips of his, he could be sweet, slow, sensual, passionate, fiery. And right in that moment, he was offering it all to her at once.

After a few moments of escaping to their very own reality together, they broke apart with one final smacking sound. 

“Wow,” Y/N breathed against his lips, her eyes hooded with lust.

Beau smirked against her mouth. “Can’t wait for Friday.”

“Me neither,” she replied.

“We’re gonna have a good ol’ time. You’ll probably be kickin’ my ass by the end of it.” He stepped backwards and once again held onto Y/N’s hand until the distance became too large between them. “See ya, sweetheart.” His fingers slipped through hers and twitched with an instant need to rejoin them.

“See you.”

With one final, smoldering wink, Beau turned around to stagger back to his car on his gorgeous bowlegs.

Y/N stayed frozen on the spot, staring after her sweet, rugged Sheriff. Was he truly hers, though? 

After five miraculous dates, she found herself wondering time and time again what exactly they were to each other. Her friends kept asking about the mysterious man she was seeing. The mysterious man that made her so happy. She didn’t want him to be a mystery any longer.

“Beau?”, she suddenly blurted.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around with arched brows. “Yeah?”

Y/N held her breath for a second, contemplating her next words. But she needed to know. She needed to know if he preferred to remain a mystery.

“Are we a couple?”, she asked, feeling her cheeks turn red with warmth. Her hands fumbled with her keys as she waited for his response. Was she being too straightforward? Too desperate?

Beau chuckled, looked down at his feet, and met her eyes again. The grin on his face was like a sudden beam of sunlight. “I sure hope so, darlin’.”

Y/N couldn’t contain the bright smile that stretched across her lips. Relief flooded her whole body, making her feel lightheaded for a second. “That simple, huh?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders and cheekily pressed his tongue against his teeth. The grin didn’t leave his face. “That simple.”  

Delighted giggles came out of Y/N’s mouth when he suddenly jogged back up her porch. Her stomach turned with joy, making her feel like she was back at the fair, back on the rollercoaster on their first date. She was on cloud nine.

Beau joined her, hopping onto her candy-coated cloud with so much ease that it made her head spin. He smiled from ear to ear and tugged her back into his sweet embrace.

Part 3

[jeanie-g]

I need more!!!!

'a gold star for me' plz

you ask and i shall deliver!! this is an au where jack is a middle school english teacher who wants to go into sports journalism and nico is the hot, new gym teacher that gets his goat!

also featuring trevor as the science teacher all the 8th grade girls have a crush on and jamie as his teacher's aide (who trevor is desperately trying to woo). also sebastian aho cuz i needed a villain lmao

it's hot, it's funny, it's relatable, and even a bit inspirational at times (i hope). it also might be my longest fic (with, like, actual chapters! wowza!)

here's a couple snippets:

The last essay of the semester, on a handful of Ray Bradbury’s short science fiction stories, was due at the start of last class. Jack had managed a good rate of on-time turn-ins, of varying quality but nonetheless complete, which bodes well for his end-of-semester performance review. Daniel turned his in on Monday, which wasn’t a surprise, and Jack was able to mark it over his evening tea, reading it and giving it its deserved A+ before the kettle even whistled. As for the rest, Jack dedicated a solid two hours to the task last night, breaking out his lucky red pen and using it frequently. Now, Friday morning, he has a stack of graded papers on his desk ready to be handed out before the weekend. Well, except Charlotte’s.

Charlotte was suspiciously absent on Wednesday, which isn’t out of the norm, really—her multiple absences was something he brought up to her mother during their parent-teacher conference last month, though the woman just sighed and said that she got frequent stomach aches (Jack wasn’t about to comment that her ailments had the habit of landing on test days). It’s not that Charlotte isn’t smart—Jack would hate to say she has potential if she only just applied herself—she just doesn’t want to be there. Jack has had more than his fair share of students like that. If it weren’t for their parents’ expectations—and their checkbooks funding their frankly overpriced tuition—kids like Charlotte would flunk out voluntarily. They always seem to get cold feet right before report cards come out, though.

Charlotte continues in her excuse train, and Jack waves a hand for her to stop. He’s heard it all before, and Charlotte is as transparent as a glass door, but Jack knows they’ll both be miserable if he gives her grief for it now. The whole point of getting these all done the night before was to have an easy, stress-free weekend with no homework of his own. All but forcing Charlotte to scribble some half-thought out mess on some looseleaf during her study hall would only stress them both out—Charlotte for obvious reasons, and Jack, because he’d be the one who’d have to actually read it.

and!

“What are you drinking?” Nico asks, and Jack had almost forgotten about the empty glass in front of him. Jack opens his mouth to answer but hesitates.

Part of Jack wants to lengthen this moment between him and Nico, really stretch it out as long as he can make it. Another part wants to nod his head towards the door, grab Nico’s hand, and pull him through it. With the way Nico is looking at him right now, he doesn’t think it’ll be too difficult. He’s certainly spent less time working up the nerve to make the big ask with other men, but something is telling him to let this moment grow—slow down the drive and coast a little.

“Gimlet,” he says, and Nico flags down Ana as she passes to order two for the both of them. Ana nods and grabs the well-loved bottle of Ketel One. He’ll let Nico take the lead and see where he ends up. He seems more than capable.

With Nico sitting down now, Jack can study his arms resting on the bartop, thick and covered in fine, dark hair. His gaze travels up the line of them, and he notices the bulk of his biceps stretched along the fabric of his shirt. “So, you’re new in town, checking out the local scene?”

Nico nods, catching Jack studying him with a cheeky smile. “Yes. I don’t really know anyone in the area yet. This seemed like a good place to start.”

“Well, yeah, Salt Crab’s the best. Isn’t that right, Ana?”

Ana turns around, towel in one hand drying some wine glasses. “Sweet talk’s not gonna make those drinks free, Hughes.”

Jack’s laugh bubbles out of him, and he catches Nico staring at him, like he’s hanging onto his every sound. Nico’s eyes flick to the floor and back up.

“You have a nice laugh,” he says, and Jack has to divert the conversation before he starts blushing like a schoolboy.

thanks for the ask, @solip1386 <333