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thereaperisabitch · 20 hours

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My Joel Miller fic recs Volume 2

I wanted to post this before my birthday, but that was more than a month ago - life happened (SO MANY things happened).

As I said on the first part, 2023 was a very rough year and these stories I’ve read were a great solace for me. Sadly, 2024 it’s still being as rough – so I’m holding on my resolution and being more active on here. My original plan was to make a rec list of the year, but not only it’d be huge but it would be a lot of work, so I’ll be separating in volumes. Last year’s will be considered volume 1, this is volume 2.

I want to thank every author in this list @tieronecrush @atticrissfinch @swiftispunk @the-scandalorian @softlyspector and @toomanystoriessolittletime : thank you so much for taking your time and created amazing stories for me and for all the readers in here, you all are very talented and creative, your hard work in crafting the best reading pieces it's very much appreciated, I wish there's more I could do to express how much I value your writing.

Hot & Heavy (complete)

Summary: 3 years, 3 summers - what happens when you can’t get over your sexy older neighbor? The sexiest and sweetest love affair that could happen – but with a lot more between them.

This one is very dear to me, @tieronecrush is the sweetest person on earth (and I love her even more knowing she's Aries too). Sam’s creativity it’s amazing and at the same time she can balm our hearts with her words, she can squeeze it with our lungs.

I think this was the first story I’ve read of hers and her Javier Peña’s “Only Angel” will appear again when I make a list of rec's of our beloved Peña.

From her Joel Miller stories, I also highly recommend Trick or Treat, Secret Santa and Orange Crush.

Meet Me In The Back (on going)

Summary: after a rough shitty day, you just want your drink, but state’s law is against you, what to do? Sleazy gas station clerk Joel shows you he can bend the rules for different ways to pay 👀

This has become my obsession, consuming my thoughts at the most random times and very oftenly. Joel’s kinda weird in this story, but he gets under your skin, etches in your brain in a way that you accept and love. And because I’m a ~romantic gal~, there’s more than crazy ass good smut in this too and so far, I’m loving the development of this story.

I also HIGHLY recommend In the Next Room, ‘cause @atticrissfinch turned an annoying situation (my aunt struggles with neighbors like this and it’s exhausting my family) into one of the sexiest things ever.

Your Summer Dream (nearly complete)

Summary: after a traumatic breakup, you’re travelling to Costa Rica with your parents and your dad’s best buddy, Joel Miller. You know what they say, the best way to heal a broken heart it’s with a good dick someone new, right? Right.

This is one my favorite dbf!Joel ever! The situation between them it’s the most appealing – hot DILF, friend’s of dad, fresh breakup and SUMMER and BEACH – it’s the perfect recipe for a delicious and thrilling story, but @swiftispunk adds more with her talent, bringing up also the complicate parts of falling in love with your dbf.

I also highly recommend Good to Me, it’s about Joel being a gynecologist – and just that made me BURN, but also he’s a very good and caring gynecologist, which makes everything all better. Say it With Your Hands is set in Jackson Era - Joel Miller in Jackson visits a masseuse and it’s too much body contact for our poor old man. And Snowflakes, a Fireplace, and You it’s a beautiful Christmas tale and it’s also very much sexy and sad, and I foolish hope that next Christmas there’ll be a second part.

Two & Mine

These are one-shots that aren't related.

I love @the-scandalorian and the day I make a rec list for Din Djarin, 90% of it will be all of her pieces. But since Joel’s stills the man of the hour, I recommend both of these one-shots of her. Mine was the first anal fic with Joel that I’ve read in here, and that’s all you need to know to go read it and LOVE it as I do.

Two includes it’s smut with angst, which I LOVE, as well. And it’s perfect smut, in every detail and word choice, because Simone is wonderful and everything she writes it’s perfectly endearing and it touches you in different ways.

If you're also into Din Djarin content, go check her work.

Honeyed (complete)

Summary: the dilemma of someone who can’t stand being touched but finds a connection with the tattooist Joel Miller and his arts.

I’ve used “can’t stand being touched” but you need to know that’s because there’s trauma in the background and @softlyspector explains that in the Warnings. This story it’s very dear to me, I was really involved while reading and Becca builds the perfect relationship of trust between them, while adding some mind-gushing pining.

You know when you read something so good you feel something tingling inside you? That’s how I’ve felt reading Honeyed, that’s how good this story is.

I’ve reread this story before finishing this list and it was a thrill as it was when I've read it for the first time. Becca nailed perfectly with her writing in here and I love it love it love it love it, please go read this and fall in love with this story too.

⚠

🚨WARNING🚨 ⚠ATTENTION⚠ The next story contains beastiality/sexual content with a monster creature. If it’s not your thing or you don’t think you’ll be able to read it, JUST DON’T READ IT. If even you’ve ignored my and author’s warnings and read it still and didn’t like it, keep your opinion to yourself, unless you’ve got some real constructive criticism to share respectfully. Many authors in this place have been migrating or becoming less active in the fandom because of people who think they can say whatever they want without any regards of respect and fuck the receivers of their hate. Don’t make here a worse environment, life outside it’s already awful and unfair as it is. Respect the authors and their work, even if you don't like them.

Claimed

Summary: after being chased by raiders, your savior comes in a form of a strange creature (werewolf). What happens after it’s more than a different way of saying “thank you”.

I’ve felt I needed to add this story here not only because it swept me off my feet and I loved it, but also because this list needs more spice, so thanks @toomanystoriessolittletime for brightening this even more.

Now, if someone asks me if I’m into monster fucking, I’ll say no – but I’d be guilty by this story and other ones (Din Djarin, your time will come). Now that being said, this story it’s HOT, it made me feel hot and I’ve felt good with this story.

I’ve loved the smut, but also how Steph created a perfect atmosphere, I could picture the scene perfectly in my mind. And also Tommy being a werewolf made me hot as well.

That’s it, folks. Next volume probably will come after June. I don’t believe in my promises and neither should you (unless when recommending a fic, then you can trust it’s good).

#Joel Miller fic rec #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #Joel Miller AU #dbf!joel miller x reader #Tattooist!Joel Miller #werewolf!joel miller #pedro pascal Joel Miller #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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puppyeared · 2 months

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Atla live action 😐

#thats my honest reaction 😐#to be fair ive only seen 20 minutes of the s1 finale bc my parents are watching it but. mmmmm kinda mid #like. the casting is definitely an improvement since the last time they tried a live action but it feels like the writing falls flat #or maybe im being harsh bc ive only heard negative criticism on it beforehand. but fr anytime u bring up the original its already #good and not just because its the original. so much fucking detail went into it to the point of someone noticing azula wielding mai's knive #to how well thought out irohs character is used as a way of uniting the cast especially as zukos foil #i heard that sokkas sexism was toned down and i have to agree that feels like a cheap move. like i get WHY they think it would be better #but its not about how that reflects on real world its about how it affects the story. sokka starts out as a misogynistic asshole because #it makes it that much more impactful when he changes. toning that down makes it flatter and makes his character development weak #and someone pointed out they didnt even make him wear the kyoshi warrior uniform and i know it feels like such a small detail but #come on man. they did that in the original because not only does it help him really walk in their shoes - wearing 'feminine' clothing and #makeup and having suki explain its significance but it also ties in with the shows theme of harmony and intersectionality #i was also disappointed when they had the fire sages explain how the water tribe draws power from the moon because in the original it was #IROH who explained it to aang and everyone else BECAUSE we as the audience is under the impression hes with the 'bad guys'#and it builds up to how he learned from the other nations which reconciles his past as a war general and his character overall #AND its an excellent starting point for the cast and audience to understand how the nations arent as closed off as you would think #plus you would think its only fire nation doing propaganda but they expanded on that with earth kingdom censorship and it WORKS #a lot of things in the live action also feel arbitrary like. they gave momo a near death experience for 5 minutes for no reason #im firmly on the stance of bringing back filler moments instead of putting major events right after each other so that u give your #audience a sense of time passing and to really absorb the story. but i think thats more like shock value than filler and yeah its a small #thing to gripe about but those things build up and its really annoying. the thing abt avatar filler moments is that however small #its at least meaningful. hell even the beach episode emphasizes how isolated zuko and his friends are as child soldiers #i also swore to never watch the first live action since it was that bad but i really liked the stylized tattoos they used for aang #anyway. those arejust my thoughts. im not gonna watch the rest because im a ride or die for the original aftr growing up and #rewatching it at least 20 times as a kid. but theres definitely room for improvement and i wish ppl wouldnt take it as 'better' just cuz #netflix is adapting it. i wouldve killed for them to just reanimate the entire avatar series and touch NOTHING ELSE no redub #no changes to the story. just reanimate the thing and leave the rest alone and youd make easy money just the same #ALSO its very jarring not hearing jack desena and dante basco voicing sokka and zuko cause their voices were the most recognizable to me #i get that its because its live action but im allowed to feel a little sad abt that. and uncle irohs accent was really soothing #yapping

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sensitivegoblin · 1 year

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Vent

#i know I’m sensitive…like I fucking know I have about 10 reasons I can site why too #i dunno why he had to do that #i thought I swept all of the stuff he does that annoys the shit out of me under the rug #but I’m just so fucking mad I wanna bite his emotionless head off #one time he was like ‘oh I wonder how you’d survive in our natural animalistic state that’s devoid of emotion’#he’s so fucking stupid I wanna punch his head until it actually works #hes not even like abusive so I just look like a brat if I try to defend my feelings #but my sister does the same things kinda too #i dunno I’m just tired of everyone laughing at me and thinking I’m just a lazy fuck up who’s enjoying diwn time #i never actually get downtime cus I’m fighting sucide thoughts #i don’t wanna be an adult and deal with other adults I’m so overwhelmed #lmao this is why I need a mommy dom so I can be a kid forever and leave society behind #I’m not even suicidal rn i don’t think I’m just so fucking sad and scared and tired #I’m so sad I just wanna be a lil kid forever my heart can’t take all of this anymore #like I only get 400 a month and I gotta make that last for groceries and stuff and my sister + money = stress #when I’m with my dad I don’t have to stress about money we just figure it out #that sounds spoiled but trust me if you read my other vents you’d know that I’m not my old house/my dads house is utter shit #toilet/shower doesn’t work there that’s why I ended up at my sisters #but I feel like my mental health has taken a huge decline #being autistic around neruotypical people is painful #i need a hug but I’m not gonna get one #that’s another thing: my sister doesn’t really do hugs #yeah it was annoying that I had to be the one to initiate hugs with my dad but at least he did #my sister is just so weird #whatever she’s vaild yadda yadda it fucking hurts not getting hugged so I don’t really fucking care about her feelings #she barely ever cares for mine #i LOVE my sister #i cannot live with her

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kk-dirge · 2 years

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walks in 2 months late with a pepsi

hey guys wats up

#i suck ass at balancing socmed and the past 2 months have been kinda nasty to me but im normal now #im on adhd meds that i think are working so thats epic #i wrote like 30k words in 3 days from the inital boost they gave those stories of ppl going silly crazy from adhd meds r true bc i lived it #im also sad that i was inactive for the time of the colress pokemas reveal. you can get i was annoying about thatm #and im also annoying about the official reveal frm yesterday.. 'i hate ghetsis' you say it king so true #otherwise its same old same old for me -explodes-#shut up zin

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rollingpenguin · 1 year

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Watched Wednesday.

I loved it. The parts in which she plays the cello are my absolute favorite thing. You gotta love a possessed-looking musician playing their favorite vibes.

also spoiler in the tags if you haven’t watched it yet

#another thing i liked was that yes #they gave her a love interest #ew right?#i was pretty annoyed at first but they actually worked it in a pleasant way #i kinda liked tyler too ngl #and now for the biggest spoilerous spoiler #im kinda sad he was the hyde #i don't understand if by the end of it all he was genuinely into wednesday or just acting his way through everything #but they were pretty good together #i liked that he was okay with wednesday's times and priorities #and i liked that about enid too #wednesday didn't really change for the sake of making friends #she is still the same at the end but with friends #that understand her likes and dislikes and priorities #she hugs enid not because now wednesday addams can HUG #but because they are both covered in blood and nearly got killed and she somehow understands that yeah this time a hug can be done #the situation is emotional enough to get it done #i liked how tyler also accepted her priorities and set a date in a crypt and picked golden girls as a movie #which was probably not his genre either i think #but he picked figuring she had probably already watched every horror movie #so he thought in reverse #and i want to think he did it on his own #not because he was being manipulated #PLUS #Come on #Wendesday's boyfriend a monster? totally fitting #she dumped him because she felt betrayed not because he was a monster #and maybe because he almost killed eugene too

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princehoseok · 4 months

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#my house is a mess atm #we had an awful time at christmas bc my aunt is annoying and mean so we dont know if were gonna go there on new years #and it fucking sucks because i want to be with my cousins and its not fair that my aunt ruins everything #but at the same time she deserves being told “we dont want to go bc you made us feel like crap on christmas”#but my mom says we cant say that #even tho she was also very upset #my sister is STILL mad af #and of course i am mad and sad and everything too #but we cant decide what to do #i have not felt peace in monthZ!#i had plans to do more things i like and i havent been able to even sit at home on my laptop and use tumblr to relax #i use tumblr at work bc who would say this is when i have more time for it but i dont have photoshop here and i cant do some stuff i want t #my sisters been sad and kinda sick for like 2 years now #and nothing ever is at least 80% okay #there is always something #and im always in the middle #and its not like they listen to me anyway #im so fucking tired and i cant talk to anyone #i basically have 3 friends #one i dont feel very comfortable talking to her about this after a lot of shit that happened between us #the other one im kinda ashamed to talk to her bc i know she has her own problems and i really dont want to bother her #and the other one is my ex so its weird..#im exhausted #not excited for a new year of the same shit thats for sure

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be-good-to-bugs · 6 months

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for once i was gonna go to bed at 9pm like im supposed to but my laundry isnt done till 10pm hell on this miserable world

#the bin #its not done because i waited till 8pm to do it uhh #it only takes 35 minutes to wash but i somehow lost 25 minutes because it was exactly 8pm when i went out to wash it #and it was exactly 9pm when i started the dryer #and drying takes an hour. sad. oh well. qt least ill have clean clothes #i cant stop thinking about coffee also. it actually highley sucks its really annoying my brain keeps replaying the numbers and process #of making stuff. STOP. im not working im not being paid im not getting laid to think abt making lattes so fuck off #well im getting it down at least. my brain will probably stop in 1 week or 2 but it does this with lots of things. makes it hard to play #sudoku or pocross or even solitaire because my brain starts thinking about it all the rest of the time to get my to understand it #by just replaying the same scenarios and info over and over. i blame repetition being the only method of learning i ever had as a child #its useful yes but its also not effective if its the only thing you use. my thinking is very slow and my knowledge of stuff sucks #cause it was mainly memorizing disconnected stuff. well. i shoulr work on that i guess. idk how exactly but ill figure it out one day #i have no idea what ill be doing tomorrow but im kinda hoping ill start with videos tbh. i dont really wanna make coffee tomorrow

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oh-lacy · 1 year

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#shut up sadie <3 #i'm gonna sound super naive and maybe immature and i'm well aware of that so pls just scroll on by #i only have three more months before my sisters leave for college and i'm just kinda :(#like i've been aware that this has been coming for years now but i just keep having those moments where it fully hits me what it means.#like we're never going to live together again (probably)#i'm gonna have basically no one to talk to.#i'm not going to have anyone to back me up when my mom flips out for no reason.#i will have no one to just hang out with and annoy #i feel like i'm struggling extra because i'm *technically* homeschooled so i've always been with them #and i'm just sad.#i have three months and then my life will never be the same and :(#and they're twins so they're leaving at the same time and i've always wanted to grow up faster so i can leave this goddamn #house behind but i'm not ready to let my sisters go.

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toruslvt · 1 month

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i LOVEEEE ur writing !!! can I request a bff gojo x fem reader where gojo starts to get close to another girl n the reader is kinda sad/worried ??? idk i was just thinking about the song dark red by steve lacy and the lyrics “only you my girl,only you babe” IT CAN BE SMUT OR SFW AAA

⋆ slightly angsty but also fluff because of course, we don't believe in sad endings in this house ‹3. jealous reader + oblivious satoru.

⋆ I was hearing that song while writing this and hello?!? it's so good like !!! so bff satoru coded waaaah, also thank you for the compliment, sending you many hugs 🩷

I will work on the bff satoru masterlist soon ^^

there have been moments in Satoru’s life when he felt uneasy, although none of those moments were strong enough to stick for more than a couple of hours, much less for a whole week. but you are a mystery.

he’s not certain why you’ve been refusing his hang out invitations, Satoru senses your coldness even through texts, the usual back and forth teasing no longer there, and replaced by a disgusting ‘k.’

Satoru’s phone bounces on the bed for the fifth time in the night, followed by his palms rubbing on his face and the slight tug on his soft, white hair in sheer frustration, you’re messing with his head, making his chest tug, and palms itch. the phone call goes straight to your voice mail, —most likely filled with his pleading voice. the option of visiting you is always present, but the blue eyed is certain your short, black haired roommate is already sick of him, eyes rolling behind the crystal of her glasses as she speaks in that annoyed tone, “i told you she’s not here”.

it’s all lies, Satoru knows it, he is your best friend and has already memorized your schedule by heart, “can you tell her I seriously need to speak to her?” Satoru responds, eyes filled with worry as he leans on your apartment doorframe, attempting to take a peek into the place, but quickly getting his hopes broken by the door smashing right in front of his face. for the nth time.

walking down the memory line didn’t work either, his focus was on the last time you hung out, on how your mood suddenly shifted after Satoru casually met with one of his new colleagues, who happened to be going in the same direction to you both, and her hand was awkwardly eager to be holding onto the white haired’s bicep. but then again, you were not a jealous person, and Satoru made sure to remind you how he’ll never replace your spot as his best friend.

“are you sure you’re alright, sweetheart?” he had asked that night, watching you mindlessly play with the hem of the blanket draped over your laps as you watched a movie, concern etched on his words.

“mhm, just tired” you mumble back, yet your eyes didn’t sparkle like they should, nor did they miss the way his phone rang with a text from the girl you saw earlier.

we should hang out soon ;)

and Satoru was quick to send a ‘sure!’ completely and utterly oblivious of the girl’s flirting.

“want me to leave? so you can take a nap” he says, brows furrowed and eyes locked on your face from above the rim of his dark glasses, he did not want to leave, but your health was more important; although in your ears his suggestion sounded more like a ‘i’ll leave so I can hang out with that girl’ and that bothered you quite a lot.

“yeah,” you’re quick to reply, standing up abruptly and dragging the blanket with you, “see you another time” and that was another lie, since you did not meet with Satoru in the next 3 days.

“fuck” he mutters, staring at the ceiling, strands of messy hair splayed on the pillow, “you’re not that busy... are you?” Satoru asks himself, about to slam his head against the wall.

it’s Sunday and he’s most likely looking like a stalker right now, pacing back and forth in front of your apartment complex, waiting for anything, until the sign comes, your roommate is quick to leave the building, a gym bag and a strange stick-like tool under her arm, and he knows you’re at home, of course he knows.

Satoru is up in three steps, and two knocks on your door. “Maki, did you forget your keys again?” your voice echoes in the room and his heart skips a beat.

“dunno where are yours but you can ta— Satoru...?” you ask, eyes widened slightly at the imposing form of your best friend towering above you.

“mm, i’m glad you still remember my name” he murmurs, attempting to tease but the sight of your tired face burns in his chest, flicking a single hair strand away from your forehead, “can I come in?”

you swallow, “what are you doing here?”

“pfft, can’t I visit my stunning best friend who has been ignoring my calls?”

“i haven’t...” you murmur, drifting your gaze and stepping back to allow him to get in, it was obvious Satoru were not going to leave any time soon, “i’ve been busy”

he snorts, splaying on the couch in your living room with long legs resting on the coffee table, “you’ve been worse and yet at least answer my texts” he taps the seat next to him, expecting for your thighs to brush like you always sit, but instead, your distance hurts.

“tell me what’s wrong”

“nothing’s wrong!” you say, slightly defensive, “i told you i’m busy”

“you were just fine a week ago, but got mad out of nowhere” Satoru speaks softly, squeezing your knee, not realizing the slight tremor running down your spine, “doll, if you’re jealous of—”

you clasp your hand on his mouth, “don’t finish that sentence” and Satoru’s eyes fill with realization, nodding like an obedient child.

“come on, I told you you’re my only best friend, darling” he whispers, sliding his hand from your knee and up your thigh, across your side until it settles on your nape.

“i don’t think what I feel is simple friendly jealousy.” the grip on the back of your neck tightens as soon as the words leave your mouth, breath hitching and eyes widening slight.

there’s a slight twitch in the corner of his lip at your confession, leaning in just briefly, “yeah?” he mutters, attempting —and failing miserably — at concealing a smirk, “are you in love with me?”

“don’t get too cocky” you mumble back, frowning but unable to tear your gaze away from his lips and eyes.

“you just admitted it” he grins brightly, a slight blush adorning his cheeks, brushing his nose across your jaw, “so that was the problem, hm? you’re so cute when you’re jealous”

“Satoru, i swear...” you start, mixed feelings of embarrassment and longing settling in your chest.

he sighs deeply, breath fanning over your skin where Satoru slides his lips across, inhaling your scent deeply, fuck... how much he missed you, “don’t ignore me again...“ he starts, ghost touches now turning into brief kisses on your jawline, trailing up until his lips press on the corner of your mouth and his thumb slides under your bottom lip, long fingers caging the side of your face, “...i like you too...” he breathes, meeting your gaze and flicking to your lips, “i just want you, only you, my girl”

reblog and/or comment if you want me to write the smut for this 🤭🎤

#𐔌᭥ᩙ༉#gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #satoru fluff #gojo satoru fluff

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coralinnii · 1 year

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❋ Accidentally ignoring him ❋

feat: Floyd ⭑ Vil ⭑ Ace ⭑ Leona genre: fluff, humour note: no pronouns used with reader, established relationships, reader is kinda oblivious and scatterbrained.

Ooff, someone’s gonna get squeezed

Not you…probably. Not until you explain yourself.

Floyd is used to being avoided. He’s tall, strong, and not afraid to give someone a beating should they get too annoying.

You have special privileges, though. Afterall, you’re his Shrimpy. His one and only thing that makes his day better, no matter his mood. A smile or wave from you would send him from 0 to 100 as he rushes to give you a swinging hug.

But that day when he yelled out for you from across the halls, you didn’t even give him a second glance. In fact, you just walked past him as though you didn’t know him. That’s not very nice, you know. Eels are very sensitive.

He came to the most logical conclusion (to him), someone did something to you and you’re too upset to acknowledge anyone, including him. Why else would you ignore Floyd, your lovable eel boyfriend?

Even after threatening questioning everyone who may be close to you, all he got was nothing as everyone said that nothing was out of the ordinary and you were fine when they last saw you. As scared as they were of the tall merman, they were sure that you were the same as always.

But if you were alright…then why did you ignore him?

The crowded hallways suddenly split like the Red Sea, making way for the unhappy sophomore as he made a beeline to where your next class was supposed to be. Sure enough, he saw you making your way there.

“Shrimpy!” He yelled out to you like he did earlier but like deja vu, you didn’t even raise your head or even turn to his direction which irritated Floyd, but he had another emotion, fear. Were you angry with him? So much so that you wouldn’t even look at him.

Getting close to you, he grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to finally make contact with you. If he wasn’t so sad, he would have thought your surprised face was cute.

Before he could question your silent treatment, you beamed with glee with that smile that Floyd loves and his worries dissipated just like that.

He watched you pull out one of your earbuds and greeted him brightly. You instantly wrapped the tall student in your arms, blissfully ignorant of the situation “Floyd, I haven’t seen you all day!”

Apparently, you finally saved enough money to buy a pair of earbuds and have been excitedly using them before and after classes. They work great as you can’t hear anything not coming from your new airbuds.

Floyd didn’t say anything, choosing to instead let his body melt into your hug, arms around you as his head rested atop of you. He’ll be mad at you at a later time but right now he’s letting this sense of relief wash over his previous worries. He’s secretly glad you weren’t mad at him or anything.

“Shrimpy is such a meanie, scarin’ me like that. Don’t do that again or I might just squeeze ya”

Offended.

Him? Vil? Being ignored? And by his beloved of all people? That’s inconceivable. Be it admiration or envy, Vil was always the target of everyone’s attention.

But there you go, hurriedly walking to wherever you need to be and rushing past him. Not even a small hello or a wave, he was absolutely ignored by you.

Vil’s not that petty (pfft!) so he wasn’t gonna make a big deal out of this incident but when he decided to meet you during lunch, Vil was stunned in his spot as you rushed out from the cafeteria the moment you were done with your meal. You didn’t give a passing glance his way as you exited the room.

This beautiful man searched through his memories for any clue to your odd behavior, but he couldn’t think of any reason for this sudden change. He knew your schedule so there weren't any urgent assignments or projects, and as far as he knew there wasn’t anything he did in particular that would make you avoid him like this.

He was aware that to many, his personality can be hard to approach with his unwavering expectations for others and himself. He’s cutthroat with his comments and he’s not afraid to give his truthful opinions of others, be it criticism or praises. Vil thought you were understanding of his critical tendencies, perhaps even appreciative of it. But maybe, he has gone one step too far. Maybe, you’re now afraid of what he might say to you so you’re avoiding him because of it.

However, Vil is not one to leave this to assumptions so he texted you if he could meet you as soon as possible. He’s pleased to hear that you’re willing to invite him over to your dorm that night. At least you’re not absolutely cutting him out.

The blonde senior reached your dorm, standing just outside the front entrance. A rare sensation of nervousness rushed through Vil’s body as he knocked on the door. Would he see you with a sad look on your face or worse, a look of fear as you’re scared of what he’ll say to you. These thoughts left an unpleasant mark in Vil’s mind as he waited for a response. Whatever the truth was, he refused to let this ruin what he has with you. If he wills it, he will make sure that he can work to fix this.

“Come in” he heard you call out which he doesn’t like. Do you not even want to see him until it’s absolutely necessary?

Steeling his emotions, Vil walked through the door with determination to get to the bottom of this, but his indifferent facade broke as he was bombarded with streamers as you screamed out with all your energy

“Congratulations!” You grinned from ear to ear as you were happy to surprise your lover with a surprise party for two. “I heard your recent movie got nominated for a huge award and you’re nominated for ‘Best Supporting Cast’”

You just heard about it from Cater and you wanted to congratulate your boyfriend before he would most likely be busy getting ready for that important award show so you wanted to plan an intimate surprise party as soon as you can. You were rushing all day, using all the free time you had to make all the preparations.

“I’m so happy, Vil. Your hard work is being recognised!” You’re so drunk in your happiness that you didn’t notice the conflicted look on the man of honor.

Vil wanted to pinch you so hard right now. He almost got stress wrinkles because of you and you were clueless on your effect on him. To think, the perfect Vil Schoenheit getting frazzled by this dumb potato.

But the blooming warmth in his heart that replaces the previous feelings of anxiety won as he chose to pat your head affectionately, looking over you with a look of bemusement.

“To think that a little spudling like you could work me up like this. Good grief”

Ace is dumbfounded, flabbergasted even. What could he have possibly done to have gotten the cold shoulder from you?

He texted you as usual, a casual “good morning” to start the day but he never received a text back from you. Though at this point, he shrugged it off thinking maybe you overslept.

This was one of those days where your schedules didn’t match with his so he could only text you before meeting up with you during lunch. But so far, he hasn’t heard a peep from you since that morning.

“What gives, man” the redhead thought as he kept an eye on his phone, hoping for a notification from you, almost getting caught by Professor Trein for using his phone in class. Whoops.

Ace still has a level head at this point so instead of freaking out, he planned on grilling you during lunch about the ghosting. He ignored Deuce as he scanned through the crowd. His spirits lifted when he finally saw you, but that disappeared when you walked out from the cafeteria with Ortho.

Ortho? Why leave your best friend and best boyfriend (both being him) for that tiny robot?? His voice could pass through the loud chatter of the lunch crowd so he tried desperately to text you again…only to be ignored again

Ace is stubborn and unappreciative of being put into the doghouse so he’s quick to visit your dorm the moment school is done. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? Did you find out he ate the last dessert in your fridge? Or maybe you realized he copied off your homework without your permission? Oh, he did accidentally break that nice pen you got…

Ok, maybe he might have done something to deserve this but heck he ain’t going down without a fight anyway.

It was that stubbornness that surprised you when you opened the doors to see a pouty redhead staring at you.

“Why have you been giving me the silent treatment, huh? Isn’t that a little immature?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You haven’t texted me all day!” Wow, now who’s calling who immature?

“That’s because I was getting my phone fixed,” you crossed your arms, annoyed by all this accusatory nonsense, “Remember? When we hung out yesterday and I dropped my phone while trying to run away from Riddle with you?”

Oh.

You went on to explain that your phone got real messed up since that day and you managed to convince Idia to fix it with the help of Ortho.

Ace felt his body hit the floor as a wave of relief hit him like a tsunami. All his bravado was gone just like that and all that was left was the solace he felt knowing you weren’t mad at him at all.

“Man, I thought you found out I ate your last dessert in the fridge”

“That was you?!”

“Sheesh, warn a guy next time would ya? Thought I was in real trouble or something”

Offended part 2.

You got some nerves ignoring him like that. This would be an insult to the Royal family if this were back in his home country.

Usually before the day starts, Leona would wake up from your gentle nagging and on occasion he could convince you to give him a few more minutes before getting up from bed, even longer if he could also convince you to snuggle with him.

But it’s past the typical wake up time and he doesn’t hear or smell you anywhere close to his room. It’s not like you to forget and he doesn’t recall anything unusual that would cause this sudden change in routine.

But Leona is as prideful as well…a lion so he’s not going to be the first to call you to see where you are. Nah, he’s not gonna be the clingy one that needs to know why you’re not here with him right now.

But soon, hours passed and you haven’t visited him or even text him which dampened the prince’s mood significantly. He doesn’t even entertain the idea that you were mad at him or that you were ignoring him. All he’s thinking is that you better have a good reason why you’re not with him right now.

Getting grumpier and hungrier, Leona finally decided to get up and leave his bedroom after taking the hint that you’re probably not gonna be coming in anytime soon. Every Savanaclaw student with half a brain knew to stay clear of their Housewarden as he looked ready to bite someone’s head off.

He would never admit it, but he kept his eyes and ears out for even a glimpse of you as he walked through the hallways, subtly scanning the crowd for your face. He won’t ask if anyone has seen you or act like he was looking for you but even he can’t stop the twitch of his ears anytime he thought he saw you from afar.

He was almost ready to tear into a poor student due to his bad mood until he finally heard you calling for him from across the hall. His mane-like hair whipped in the air as he quickly turned to the direction of your voice.

“Leona, there you are!”

“What, miss me already?” This man with his undeserved smugness.

Ignoring his quip, you hurriedly grabbed your lover’s hand before pulling him into the direction of the headmage’s office, “There are some important figures visiting the campus today and Crowley is calling for all of the Housewardens to meet in his office”

Leona groaned at the idea of meeting some stuck-up geezers but willingly let you pull him around, relishing the feel of your touch he’s been craving since this morning.

In your rush, you pushed some papers into Leona’s free hand, containing short biographies of certain people. “These are some info I found on our visitors today so you’re not going in empty-handed. Seriously, this is why you need a vice Housewarden. This took me all morning to compile”

Well, that explains your absence. The lion beastman would say that’s a justifiable reason for skipping out on him this morning. His bad mood disappeared as though it never was and soon he was replaced with a new sense of pride over you. Seeing you acting all responsible and assisting him with his duties…

Makes him think you would be perfect by his side in the royal family.

“You got some guts makin’ me wait. But I’m in a good mood now, so I guess I won’t eat you this once”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #disney twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #floyd leech #floyd x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #twst vil x reader #ace trappola #twst ace #twst ace x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader

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holllandtrash · 6 months

Text

say don't go | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

based off of taylor swift's 'stay don't go' why'd you have to lead me on? why'd you have to twist the knife? walk away and leave me bleedin'

word count: 5.2k tags/warnings: slight angst, mentions of being disloyal, this is kinda sad, mention of smut i guess but blink and you miss it

You weren’t one to let your past haunt you. It was the past for a reason, it belonged behind you, all you could do was grow into a better version of yourself.

But what the hell were you supposed to do when Charles showed up at your door after six months of silence?

It was a week into December and you were reluctantly putting up Christmas decorations because you were tired of the comments your friends made, telling you to get into the holiday spirit. Now you had the silver tinsel gripped in your hand as Charles stood on your front step, light flurries landing on his coat only to melt immediately after.

It was the middle of the day and you lived in a crowded area, but passersby on the sidewalk and those driving past had no idea there was a Ferrari driver only metres away from them.

But no one would guess that Charles Leclerc would be travelling to Bristol during his holidays.

“What? Were you in the neighbourhood?” You asked, flicking the tinsel off of your hand and shaking off any remnants. You watched it fall to the floor before looking up, “Felt like stopping by?”

“Can I come in?” Charles asked, glancing behind you. Was he looking to see if you had company? If you had moved on? Regardless of what, or who, he was looking for, his shoulders relaxed when he could tell you were alone. All that was behind you was cardboard boxes labelled Christmas.

“Give me three good reasons why I shouldn't shut the door in your face,” your demand was laced with your usual sweet tone, the same one that always intimated Charles because he never knew what to make of it. Never once did you raise your voice, you never yelled, never showed signs of anger. Even when you were annoyed, you always sounded calm.

He sucked in a breath, “Well, it’s cold out.” He chuckled, but when you didn’t see any humour in his words he just nodded and moved on. “I was, in fact, in the neighbourhood- well I was in London, just figured I’d make a quick trip out west.”

Those weren’t good enough reasons and he knew it. You moved to grab the door and Charles reacted by holding his hand out to stop it from shutting, eyes trained on yours.

His cheeks were red, not accustomed to the British winters. He wasn’t wearing mitts and you could see how his hands had responded to the dry air by cracking at the knuckles. His lips trembled, not because he was nervous but because this was probably the coldest his body temperature had dropped to in a long time.

Which had you questioning how long he had been standing outside your door before finally knocking.

“There’s some things I’ve been meaning to say for a while now,” Charles spoke softly and you could see his breath with each word. “And you don’t need to say anything, but I’d love it if you’d listen.”

Maybe you felt bad that he was cold. Maybe you were curious as to what he had to say to you after so long. Maybe part of you still missed him and if these were the last few minutes you’d get with him, you weren’t going to let them pass.

Whatever the reason, you held the door open and he stepped inside. You watched as he ran his fingers through his hair and slid his coat off, hanging it on the empty hook on the wall. Your eyes darted down to the shoes he wore and Charles recognized that look, knowing better than to walk any further with his shoes on. He smiled, sort of, remembering the first time you asked him to take his shoes off when he entered your apartment.

If this was six months ago, you would have had slippers waiting for him to put on, but instead Charles was left to just his socks. You, though, seemed quite cozy. The matching sweats and jumper was only a shade darker than the slippers you wore and Charles almost asked where you purchased the set from, but he held his tongue because now wasn’t the time for casual conversation.

“Tea?” You offered, glancing at the kettle sitting on the stove. It had started whistling only minutes before he showed up but you hadn’t had a second to pour yourself a cup, too caught up in trying to untangle tinsel.

“Don’t want to put you out,” he shook his head, but when you manoeuvred past him to step into the kitchen, he didn’t stop you from grabbing two cups from the cupboard. He watched, standing at a cautious distance, as you made the two drinks the same way you always did.

Charles was brought back to the time he walked into his own flat in Monaco and you were kneeling on the counter, trying to find a suitable cup because all of his mugs were too big and bulky for tea. He held his hand to your back, worried you’d tip backwards, which you didn’t, but you were happy he was there to help you off the counter and greet you with a kiss.

“I’ll invest in new cups,” he said. He never did.

He didn’t like the silence that lingered between you now, probably the first time it ever bothered him, so he cleared his throat, “I like your new place.”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

He glanced around at the decor and spoke up again, “So you’ve been well?”

“You don’t need to pretend to care about how I've been.”

“I do care.”

The slow yet icy stare you gave him as you peered over your shoulder had Charles wondering if showing up here was a good idea. Instead of opening his mouth again, Charles looked at the decorations littered on the floor.

He was drawn towards the open box of ornaments that was placed on the couch. He noticed the tree in the corner, but all you had put up so far was a string of lights. Curious, he looked closer into the box and smiled to himself when he saw a vintage Formula 1 Ferrari, no bigger than the palm of his hand. He also spotted a racing helmet, but couldn’t recognize the driver it belonged to.

It wouldn’t have shocked him if the rest of this box was F1 inspired Christmas ornaments. Either ones you had purchased yourself or ones that were given to you as gifts.

Charles was always amazed at your knowledge of Formula 1. With your father being a retired driver himself, he shouldn’t have been surprised when you swept him under the rug during a trivia night. He admired your passion for the sport and maybe that’s why when he met you in the Ferrari garage, he wasn’t as quick to judge you like he was to everyone else who had purchased VIP passes for the weekend.

You were there for the sport, for the racing, you didn’t care who was driving the car, it wasn’t like you had favorite drivers.

You were raised to appreciate the history of the sport, the roots, the beginnings. Because of that, you were drawn to the older teams, the classics. Williams, McLaren and against your fathers wishes, Ferrari. So of course you wanted to experience the Ferrari hospitality during a race weekend at least once. To see the cars up close, to be in the garage, to see the race from an entirely new perspective.

It was Australia, the third race of the 2023 season. It was a race that Charles tried hard to forget due to his DNF at the first turn, but there were highlights he cherished before the incident.

He remembered standing in the garage before the first practice session and turning his head to flash a smile towards the VIP members standing at the back. He paid no attention to any of them in particular, but you stood out. The way you were so focused on the screen, taking in the Tech Talk segment that was playing on F1TV. You hadn’t even noticed Charles looking.

He saw you again the second day, closer to the front of the group before the start of FP3. You were wearing a white set, arms crossed over your chest with the headphones resting around your neck. You weren’t watching anything this time, instead you were in the middle of a conversation with a few of the mechanics.

At first, Charles thought they were flirting with you. But when you pointed at the rear wing, lines drawn across your forehead and eyebrows pinched together in studious fashion, Charles got the hint that this wasn’t just a casual conversation.

And then you held out your hand to introduce yourself, your once serious expression turning soft. You smiled at the mechanics as you shook both of their hands, seeming truly grateful to have met them.

Naturally, Charles was curious as to what sort of conversation just took place. He waited a few minutes before asking Mark, the one of two mechanics who seemed to be doing most of the talking.

“What was that about?” Charles asked.

Mark looked over his shoulder at you, but you were too engrossed in the screen again to notice the few sets on you.

“You don’t know who she is?” Mark asked.

“Should I?” Charles glanced your way. This time, you caught it.

You were also the first to look away.

“Damon Hill’s daughter,” Mark chuckled, probably in disbelief himself over who he just met. “She’s also got her masters in engineering. You know what she pointed out- the activation time for DRS is delayed compared to everyone else on the grid. I don’t know how she noticed it, but we’ll take a look at the data and if she’s onto something we’ll fix it before qualifying.”

Damon Hill’s daughter. The 1996 world champion. He had made a name for himself, known for being one of Schumacher's rivals during his prime. Charles knew he had kids, but didn’t know who they were.

He wanted to introduce himself, but he waited till after qualifying.

Was he a little taken aback when you seemed to be paying more attention to Carlos’ side of the garage at the end of the day? Maybe, but you had been watching him all weekend so far so he didn’t like the sudden change.

His P7 starting position was nothing to be overly proud of, but the congratulations was the first thing out of your mouth when he approached you.

“Thank you,” he nodded, suddenly feeling a bit more pride now than five minutes ago. He glanced at the car and then back at you, at the VIP lanyard resting over your chest, at your eyes that momentarily had him forgetting why he walked over to you in the first place.

You held your hand in the same polite manner you had with the mechanics and you introduced yourself as Charles shook it slowly.

“Damon Hill’s daughter,” he stated. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

You cocked your head slightly, “Is that a line?”

A blush crept up to his cheeks when he realised how flirtatious he sounded without trying to, “No- I mean,” he licked his lips. “I guess it could be but I wasn’t trying for that.”

“I only just graduated,” you answered his question, which wasn’t really a question. “Figured I’d watch a few races, check out a few teams before I decide if I want to dip my toe in the motorsports field.”

“Driver?” He asked, eyebrows raised even though Mark had told him what you studied. But you laughed and Charles was glad he brought up the idea of you getting behind the wheel. He could get used to your laugh.

“Engineer,” you corrected. “To be honest, I think IndyCar might be more my thing. Plus I know Arrow McLaren is looking to expand, hire a few more performance engineers. Mind if I use you as a reference? I saw those mechanics working on your DRS set up, don’t let them take the credit for catching the activation error.”

It was his turn to laugh. He liked your humour, something else he could get used to.

“Mark mentioned you pointed it out,” Charles nodded, unable to keep from smiling. He liked the way you spoke. Not only did he find your accent endearing, but he liked how sure you were of yourself. You knew your talents, you knew what you were capable of. He admired it.

“Good luck tomorrow,” you said, taking it upon yourself to end the conversation. You adjusted the purse over your shoulder and gave him a soft smile. “It was nice meeting you, Charles.”

And then you walked off, happily letting someone else from the team accompany you, probably an engineer. Probably someone who could match your expertise in a conversation.

Charles didn’t know when he’d see you again, but he took it upon himself to make sure it was sooner than later.

Following Australia, the drivers had a bit of a break. Almost an entire month.

It was only a few days into the break when he asked his manager to get Damon Hill’s contact information.

Confused was an understatement when your dad called you and said ‘Tell me why I just got an unsolicited text from Charles Leclerc asking if he could have your phone number’.

By the end of the week, Charles had flown you from Paris, where you resided at the time, to Nice. He was there at the airport to pick you up and drive you to Monaco.

You spent that entirety of the break together.

Charles was smitten. As were you.

But you were cautious.

You knew first hand that racing was at the top of his priority list. You weren’t about to get your hopes up and think that these few weeks meant anything. He just had time on his hands and you showed interest.

However, it was hard not to fall for Charles. He treated you well when you were together. He was easy to talk to. He made you feel safe, admired, wanted. He asked all the questions he could think of to get to know you. He made you breakfast in the morning, or at least he tried to. The mornings when you woke up to the smell of burnt eggs were just as entertaining. Plus you figured you could get used to the way he wrapped his arm around your waist as you took over. The kisses he peppered on your shoulder that tempted you towards pulling him back to the bedroom.

By the time the season picked up again for round 4 in Baku, you were so used to being around him that you had to tell yourself not to be hurt that he didn't suggest you go with him.

You and Charles did a lot of things during those few weeks, but never once did you label what you were. That conversation never came up. Neither did the exclusivity talk.

He still called. He texted you daily. He treated you like you were special, but racing came before a relationship. Even your dad reminded you of that. He told you not to dwell on it, that Charles would come to his senses when he felt secure with the team, with the season. He didn’t need the support of a girlfriend, he needed the support of his team.

And then Charles informed you he was flying you out to Miami. He wanted you to watch the race again. He wanted you there.

You didn’t accompany him to the track, but he greeted you with wide arms and the brightest grin when you showed up at the Ferrari garage. His hand stayed on your lower back for a bit as he showed you around, giving you a proper tour but when you came across Mark it was almost as if Charles passed you off.

He said ‘Here, chat with Mark for a bit, I’m sure you’ve got some opinions about the car’ and then he walked away.

You tried not to think too much about it, maybe he had obligations, media, signings, something. He wouldn’t fly you out to Miami and abandon you the first chance he got. He was a driver, he had priorities. You weren’t one of them, not yet.

It was a difficult situation to be in. When Charles gave you his attention, he gave you every ounce of it. But when he was gone, he was gone. Distant, on his phone, sometimes he quite literally disappeared like at the end of the day on Saturday and you were left in the Ferrari garage wondering where the hell he got off to.

But then he knocked on your hotel room door at a little after 10 and who were you to turn him away?

Charles pulled you towards the bed, dragging you with him as he laid on the mattress. He asked about your day between the kisses he left down your neck. You answered as best as you could, but when his hands found the button of your trousers, it became a little more difficult to collect your thoughts.

When he gave you his attention, he gave you every ounce of it.

You had forgotten all about his disappearances earlier. They didn’t matter, he was here now. His lips trailing every inch of your skin as your back curved off the bed. You tried to remind him that he had a race tomorrow, that you both could just go to sleep if he wanted but Charles only smirked and raised his face back to yours.

He hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with a ghost of a kiss, “Ma chérie, I’m not going to sleep until I hear you scream my name.”

He kissed the corner of your lips and then trailed down towards your ear, adding a quiet, “At least twice,” to the end of the original statement.

And Charles was true to his word. He had you seeing stars with just his tongue alone in a matter of minutes.

Charles worshipped you, he took care of you. In a short period of time, he came to know your body and how to get the reactions he desired. He loved seeing you come undone, loving being the one to bring you to the edge and watch you spill over.

Maybe it was a pride he was chasing, but you wouldn’t think of that possibility until it was too late.

When he climbed under the covers next to you at the end of the night, you could still make out the shape of his body, his gentle features, even in the dark. Your hand found his chest, sliding upwards until it wrapped around his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to him.

He traced his fingers over your cheek, pushing a strand of hair out of your face as he whispered, “Comment ai-je eu cette chance?” How did I get so lucky?

That did it for you.

You weren’t just smitten anymore. You were in love.

Another impromptu break after Miami meant you had a few more weeks with Charles before he had to give his attention back to racing. You didn’t spend it all in Monaco this time. After about a week, Charles suggested the two of you go back to your home. Back to Paris.

Paris with him was heavenly.

The rest of the world didn’t matter when it was just the two of you together. Your days were spent taking in the city, your evenings were spent in a variety of restaurants, lounges, anywhere he could spoil you, it seemed.

It was nearing your last few days before he had to leave when he suggested you take a midnight stroll. The weather was perfect, the streets wouldn’t be too busy. You had no reason to say no.

And there was something about walking the streets of Paris with Charles at night, holding his hand while he spun you under his arm beneath the glow of a street lamp. The Eiffel Tower was sparkling in the distance. Charles’ eyes lit up brighter than it.

There was something about him. About this moment. About the last few months. All of it led up to standing here with him now.

And you knew better, but that didn’t stop you.

“I love you.”

And just like that, you faded into madness. Slowly, silently, but it was inevitable.

Charles didn’t say anything. His lips parted like he wanted to, like he thought about it, only to ultimately lick his lips and inhale a sharp breath.

By saying I love you, you plunged a knife into your own chest, opening yourself up to vulnerability, but his silence only twisted it in deeper.

You backed up, hand dropping from his. Was that his doing or yours? He whispered your name, but only out of pity. He didn’t love you. He didn’t love you.

Suddenly Paris didn’t seem so heavenly.

Charles left that night. Maybe he thought you were asleep, but you heard the door swing on its hinges. You heard the wheels of his suitcase being dragged out into the hallway. You turned over in bed, despite knowing you’d find his side empty, but you didn’t think it would turn cold so fast.

A few days later, Charles was spotted walking into the paddock of the Monaco Grand Prix, but he wasn’t alone.

Next to him, the stunning Alexandra Saint Mleux. Even her name was beautiful.

You had heard whispers that Charles and her had a history, but you didn’t think anything of it. Why would you worry yourself with speculation when he was putting you on a pedestal when you were together?

He had a way of making you feel wanted, but you weren’t the only one who felt that way.

Did she know you two were together? That he was with you in Paris? Was he seeing both of you or did he run back to her the second you told him something he wasn’t ready to hear?

You tried to move on, really. There was no relationship for you to cling to, Charles never said you were exclusive. He just knew the right words to say to make you feel like you were.

You flew to Indianapolis for the Indy500. A rash decision, but the further away from Monaco the better. Your connections at Arrow McLaren gave you the chance to get a closer look at the inner workings of the team, had you momentarily forgetting about Charles. You wanted to be an engineer, not the girlfriend of a driver. You told yourself to get it together.

But then you returned home and seeing the slippers you had bought for Charles had you wondering why you couldn’t be both. You would have been both if he just said something, if he just told you he loved you.

You should have distanced yourself from Formula 1, at least for a little while. You should have turned down the invitation from a partnering brand of Ferrari, enticing you to come to Spain for the race. You should have flown back to the states, reconnect with Arrow McLaren.

Instead you found yourself in Barcelona. The entire time you were there you knew it was a mistake and if you couldn’t figure that out on your own, seeing Alexandra chat with some Ferrari team members below while you sat up above in the hospitality was a painful reminder.

Part of you considered talking to her. You wanted to know if she was in the same boat you were- and if she was clueless, maybe give her a heads up that Charles was going to say sweet nothings to her at night only to leave her in the dark.

But Alexandra wasn’t the one you needed to talk to.

Between practice and qualifying on Saturday, you made your way to the paddock knowing that’s where Charles would be. You walked past Alexandra chatting to someone a few motorhomes down, so you felt better knowing she wasn’t currently with him.

Luck would have it, you ran into Mark outside of Ferrari. He invited you in of course, always happy to chat about the sport with someone who appreciated it on the same level and you assured him you would, you just had to talk to Charles first.

You knocked on the door of his driver's room, not even sure what you were going to say. You were hurt, you were saddened, you were angry but you hadn't had time to think about what you would say to him when you were finally face to face again.

The door swung open and there he was. Shocked to see you, first of all, but not upset. You stood in the hallway and watched as Charles took a breath of relief, a sliver of a smile creeping up on his lips as he held the door open for you to walk in.

Your heart jolted at the idea that maybe, he still wanted you. The look he gave you was almost enough for you to forget he hadn’t said a word to you since you told him you loved him.

Almost.

You stepped in and leaned against the door after it shut, keeping a safe distance as he stood back against the massage table.

Your lips parted, but before you could get a word out, his phone started to ring. You both glanced at the contact, at who was trying to get a hold of him.

Alexandra.

You swallowed, waiting until he let it go to voicemail before your timid voice filled the room. “You love her?”

Maybe Charles didn’t know how to love anyone. You’d believe it, with the way he tensed the second the word passed through your lips. He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no, either.

“I can’t commit, Y/N.” He tried to say, like that made up for everything. Like that’s the answer you were looking for.

“No, you can, Charles, but not to me.” You stated, keeping your voice calm. You weren’t one to yell. Causing a scene wasn’t your thing. You were always so soft spoken. Soft spoken, but straight to the facts. “Were you seeing both of us at the same time?”

“She knows, if that's what you're wondering." Charles quickly slid that piece of information in there. “She found out- about us. Threatened to leave me if-”

“If you didn’t choose?” You raised your eyebrows. Once again, his silence spoke volume. “So did you make up your mind before or after Paris?”

Charles averted his gaze for a second, “I realised in Paris I couldn’t love you the way you loved me.”

“You probably realised that a lot earlier,” you pointed out.

Charles must have known you adored him. There was no way he didn’t see the way you looked at him, the way you worshipped him. He knew and still strung you along, making you think he could love you back if you were just patient.

“You didn’t need to lead me on as long as you did, Charles.”

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

I didn’t want to lose you, he says. Bringing light to the fact that he had you. You were his, in a sense. Despite never saying the words out loud.

But he was never yours.

“So I was there, for what?” You asked. “As a backup? In case things with Alexandra didn’t work out?”

Charles was intimated by how calm you were. He would have preferred if you yelled at him, if you fought with him. It would make it easier on both ends to put whatever this relationship was to rest. Instead, you were serene. You came here to talk, to get answers, you didn’t come here to form a divide.

Because if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t ready to let go. How could you let go when you hadn’t spoken? He hadn’t given you closure, he didn’t say I don’t love you he just…didn’t say anything.

You weren’t going to beg for him to come back, but in the far corners of your mind you were hoping that your appearance here would make him question his decision. You were banking on the idea that when he saw you, he’d remember what he saw in the first place when you met in Australia.

If he changed his mind right now, you’d put all of this behind you. You’d stay at his side, you’d be there for him, you’d be his for real this time.

If he, once again, said nothing, you’d go. You’d go and you’d stay gone.

“I loved you,” you whispered. The past tense striking Charles more than he thought it would, but he didn’t show it. Loved. You loved him, and you still could.

Thirty seconds passed. Then a minute. Almost two and the only thing that lingered between you was silence. Heavy, loud, painful silence.

You grabbed the handle of the door and decided enough time had gone on. You deserved better than this, than a man who couldn’t make a decision, than someone who played with your feelings because they couldn’t figure out their own.

The second you pulled the door back, your name fell from Charles’ lips. You were one step into the hall, halfway to gone, and he stopped you.

All he had to do was say don’t go. All he had to do was tell you he wanted you.

With your back still to the Ferrari driver, you waited for those next words but they never came. You knew they wouldn’t.

That was the last time you spoke to Charles. You knew how to stay true to your word too.

So why was he suddenly here, six months later, sitting on your couch and looking at you like he was waiting for you to say something first when you made it clear a long time ago if you were gone, you were gone.

Charles only took a sip of his tea before putting it on the coffee table. He then moved the box of Christmas ornaments, not liking the divide it put between you as if he wasn't the one to create the wedge in the first place.

You were stupid, to speak first, but you were tired of the silence. He came here for a reason and if he wasn’t going to tell you why in the next two minutes, you were going to send him back out into the snow.

“How’s Alexandra?” You asked, not that you were interested in knowing if he was happy or thriving in his relationship. You were, however, impressed to see that he could in fact commit, but you were right about that. He just didn’t want to commit to you.

“Do you care?” He asked in return.

You shook your head slightly, “I do not.”

Charles smiled at your honesty. Your gentle tone didn’t match the brutal truth.

“So let’s not talk about her,” Charles said and you nodded in agreement. He shifted in his spot, glancing at the decorations, the tea, really anything but you.

And you weren’t about to wait again, not if this was going to lead to the one thing your silence always led to.

You sucked in a breath, “Charles if you don’t tell me why you’re here…”

He nodded, knowing that this was all on him. He was lucky enough to even be allowed into your home, and he knew you were slowly regretting that decision the longer he just didn’t get to the point.

Charles lifted his head, eyes finally meeting yours. He even flinched, like he was trying to reach for your hand only to decide against it at the last second, relying on just his words for a change.

“I shouldn’t have let you go.”

Part 2 - now that we don’t talk

#charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 one shot #f1 fic #holllandtrash #say dont go #cl16 x reader #cl16

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

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hi!! i’m a big wuss and cry at least twice a week. could i possibly request a ghost x reader where reader is new to the task force and everyone but ghost has warmed up to them and really enjoys their bubbly presence? ghost says something kinda mean, reader cries, and then goes quiet for a few days/a week. everyone notices the change in their personality and gets confused until ghost makes it right <3

Thanks for this request!!🙃🩷 same same tho.

We All Have Our Demons

Simon Riley x Reader

Warnings: mentions of crying, swearing, angst w happy ending

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were recently just introduced to the 141 as the newest member. Your sniper skills were top tier, and Price had jumped at the opportunity to make you a part of his team.

The boys on the team had instantly taken a liking to you. You were a welcome addition to the team, and your presence alone helped shift the mood of the team tremendously.

Everyone on the team had been incredibly welcoming to you, all except Ghost. He'd been standoffish since you'd arrived, only giving you a nod when you'd introduced yourself. You had originally just chalked it up to him being weary if he could trust you. Which you more than understood, so while you kept your distance, you still made it a point to be nice to him.

He was always very curt and professional, never letting you hold a conversation with him, but that did not stop you from trying.

You'd always offer to help with various tasks, picked up coffee for him just the way he liked, and on multiple occasions had tried striking up conversations with him, to no avail.

One night, you'd decided you were going to try and talk with him. You weren't used to someone being so standoffish toward you, and wanted to know what you could've done wrong.

Making your way into the weapons rooms, you popped your head in to address your superior.

"Lieutenant?" You approached him with a wide smile.

He regarded you with clear disinterest and mumbled out a "What is it, Sargeant."

"I just wanted to check in with you, sir. I was wondering if perhaps.. I'd done something wrong?" Your hands started to grow sweaty, and you nervously rubbed them on your thighs.

He turned back to his weapon. "Wrong?"

"You just.. seem to not like me, and I'm not sure what I could've done to offend you."

"Like you? It's not my job to like you, and this isn't the place for annoying shit such as friendships. If that's what you're looking for, perhaps you should've looked to do any other field than this one, Y/N." Ghost sputtered, his eyes narrowing at you as he slammed his gun down in frustration.

Your mouth parted slightly, shock washing over you at his words. You knew he was a tough shell to crack, but you'd never thought he'd be so outwardly mean.

"Of course, sir. Sorry to bother you." You muttered meekly, turning to walk to the door. You blinked away tears, and aggressively wiped them from your eyes, not wanting anyone to see you cry.

For the next few days, you'd been rather quiet and kept to yourself. The boys would constantly come up and ask you to join them at the pub or for spar sessions, but you'd always politely decline.

Ghosts words had sunk deep, creating a wound you weren't sure how to heal. Were you really that annoying? Did everyone on base feel that way about you? The words ate and ate at you, and you'd ultimately decided to keep to yourself so as not to bother anyone around you. Perhaps Ghost was right. You weren't here to make friends.

The boys grew concerned, your normally bubbly attitude was gone, and they were lucky if they could even get a few words out of you.

"Anybody know what's going on with Y/N? They have been unusually quiet lately, and I'm worried about them." Soap had asked, sitting down to eat with Gaz and Ghost.

"I've tried talking to them a few times but can barely hold a conversation. You didn't hear it from me, but it was rumored that they left the weapons room crying Friday night." Gaz spoke, a sad smile forming on his lips.

Ghosts ears perked up at this information. You were with him in the weapons room Friday night. You left crying? Why would you have left- Oh. A wave of guilt came washing over him as he realized what had you so upset.

He truly didn't mean to make you upset. He was so used to keeping himself protected. He was afraid to let anyone else in. Then you came in with your bubbly attitude, and regardless of how much he tried to push you away, you still showed interest in him. He was so scared to open himself up to you, this ray of sunshine, and get himself hurt. He couldn't take more hurt in his life.

Shaking his head of his thoughts, he went to go and find you.

You were sitting in the courtyard watching the night sky. Your mind was racing with negative thoughts that you couldn't seem to push away. Deciding to turn in early for the night, you moved to stand when you heard a voice call your name. You turned around and were met face to face with Ghost.

"Oh, Lieutenant. Didn't know you were out here. Don't mind me, I was just leaving." You nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and made for the entrance.

"Wait." Ghosts voice halted your movements. "I uh, I wanted to talk."

You turned to him, tucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, and nodded your head slowly.

Ghost looked to the ground for a moment before speaking. "I'm.. not exactly a guy known for extending warm welcomes."

You swallowed thickly, expecting him to continue, but he didn't.

"It's alright, sir. I understand." You said softly.

Ghost lifted his eyes from the grass to meet your warm ones. He felt his heart palpitate from the way you were looking at him. You'd looked so innocent to him.

"No. It's not. I don't give my trust out easily, not to anyone. But that's no excuse to treat you as I did." You could tell Simon was doing his best to apologize, in his own way.

"We all have our demons, sir. I can't fault you for protecting yourself and the team. But I assure you I have nothing but good intentions." You assured him, not breaking eye contact.

"I know." He nodded, his eyes shifting back to the ground beneath him. There was something about the way you looked at him. It made him feel things he'd never felt before. You were such a warm person, and he didn't know how to take you.

"Well, if that's all, I'll leave you to your night, Ghost." You turned to make your way out again, stopping when you heard him speak once more.

"Simon."

"Sorry?"

"My name, it's Simon." He lifted his eyes to yours, and held your gaze.

Your eyes lit up from the small bit of information he'd given you. It wasn't much, but it was a sign he was willing to try opening up to you.

"It's nice to meet you, Simon." You giggled, a vibrant smile covering your face.

He nodded, thankful his mask was covering the light pink tint that was forming on his cheeks.

"Theres... there's a coffee shop up the road. Usually, go to it every now and then. Good coffee there." He fumbled out, heart stammering in his chest. "Be my treat. It's the least I can do for being an arse."

"I would love that, Simon." You were practically beaming. You couldn't stop saying his name, and he sure wasn't complaining. He quite liked the way it sounded coming from your lips.

He held out his arm to you, and you gladly linked your arm in his. "Shall we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Wasn't too proud of this one, tbh I rewrote it quite a few times.

Was kind of thinking of making this a 2 parter?

#cod imagine #simon riley imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #simon riley angst #ghost imagine #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you

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lady-ashfade · 4 months

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Yeah, she’s my mom.

Sally Jackson x wife reader x son!percy.

-£ Is this apart of the lore? No. Do I care? Not at all. So forget Gade and have Sally have a good partner. Let Percy have a good step parent. And, because I want her to be my wife.

-£ Warnings: Show and book spoilers, short, “Death”, Demigod luck, everything that happens in the show and the first book but with the reader, my idea of comfort, kinda angst but I’m trying to make this fluffy. Saying this again. Spoilers for the events that will hopefully be in the next two episodes

there was no doubt in his mind that you were meant to be his mom.

when his mother found you he remembered the glow she started to had. you made her so happy and even he could see that at a young age. but the way you cared for him to without a question, letting him cook with you at times and always poke his face with flour. or the time you sat with him when his mom was sick and played with him for hours and you didn’t even bat a eye.

there was always a lovely smell in the air that even he could smell sometimes when he was at school. it was sweet and smelled like every baked good in the world in one place. it brought him comfort. your scent was strong enough to lead monsters away, he didn’t smell like a demigod. the way his mother looked at you, the way you held her and helped out, made him realize that true love existed. and you were meant to be in their lives. to be his mother.

he could remember the first time he actually met you.

“hello there,” you bend down so low to his height, or close to it. the warm smile made him feel welcome, “your mommy says you are special? That’s great, I seem to need a helper in the back. you think you can help?”

he looked up at his mom as he clings to her hand, asking for permission. she gave him a slight nod. he let go and gave you the same look and took your hand. “thanks for letting me borrow your little hero.”

that was the first time and for the rest of the day he didn’t realize his mom was away. the time with you was so special but he quickly needed a nap and he fell asleep on your lap while watching a movie. you were the best babysitter. so every time his mother had somewhere to go he would find himself at your house.

soon after, you moved in with them! It was great since he got to see you all the time now. Then he got enrolled into school and he saw less of you but couldn’t help but count down the second he could see his mom and you.

sally, she was the best lover in the whole world. she was so loving to you. making your heart swell with warmth when you were near her. she had some fire in her and you loved that about her, unless you were on the end of that. there was no life without her.

so you two got married.

years after being sent to school after school, Sally could see how worried you became. and it pained her to never tell you the truth of who Percy was, who his father was, and much more. you constantly looked for schools to fit him and offered to get a extra job just to send him there. but each time she refused because they would be to far away.

but when percy came home. after she got a call from grover. “Dear, I think me and percy need some time to..” she glanced at him as he looked at her confused, “have some time alone.” That’s not how it ever went done. you all did things together.

“Of course.” you just smiled as you always did. understanding. you reached for him and ruffled his hair. “Be good for your mother, got it?” He huffed to fake being annoyed and agreed. he was sad you couldn’t come

if only he knew that would be the last time he saw you for a long time.

the trip to the beach cabin was smooth. him and his mom being normal as always and reconnecting their memories. until the night went south when he started to share his doubts with his mom. that he was broken. he was convinced that everything about him wasn’t normal. it didn’t help when his mom told him the truth of who his father was, and what that made him.

everything was so confusing, Grover turning out to be a goat. Them being chased by a minotaur with underpants, going to a “camp” for half-bloods like him? Yeah, he was probably going crazy.

“Mom!” Percy yelled as he watched his mom reach out to him one last time until she turned to dust in the monster hands. every part of his body boiling with anger that she was taken away. he saw you. how you had just lost your wife too but you had no clue, sitting at home all alone while everything went down.

you didn’t know. that sally was dead, that percy was safe, where he was or his mom. how scared you must be feeling right now. and it took all his willpower to stop himself from buying tickets back home and see you while he was supposed to be looking for the lighting bolt.

when he saw the video of you crying on tv he started to tear up. you defended him from all the accusations that he was involved. saying there was no way your sweet boy would ever hurt his mother.

“If you’re seeing this, come home.”

he almost died so many times. but he had to save his mom, he had to get himself and her back to you.

hades was touched by percy’s actions and released his mother after everything went down. his mom returned. The manhunt for him resolved. But there was a new war coming, and he was betrayed. And even if he needed to stay at camp for the whole year and train. There was only option he could take.

To go back home.

#percy jackson imagine #Sally Jackson x reader #platonic percy jackson #Percy Jackson x reader #fluff #percy jackson and the olympians x reader

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hazelfoureyes · 1 month

Text

A Doe in Fall (part 4)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦

Part 4 Enough

Alastor struggled with the prior expectations others had of him, but you eased them away with gentle hands. And to your great comfort, Tommy’s absence is noticed but not entirely shocking to anyone. With that concern behind him, finally, Alastor gives in to his own selfish wants and asks for your help with his “work.”

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, No smut! No pussy eating! No fingering! It took away from the important events and Alastor’s mental health (I know he’s not real but he’s KINDA REAL?) so I didn’t include it. Next time! , Murder, dead bodies, allusions to bad things by bad men, Alastor has had bad times and will have bad times, bad kind of choking, domestic shit, Detective Brady, Obvious Sin」

You let Alastor start the shower, remembering people often complaining you turned it too hot. Stepping into the tub and drawing the curtain around, you told him to face the water so you could clean his back. It wasn’t dirty, you just wanted an excuse to touch and stare.

A moment of silence, you were a little scared to speak but had a question burning a hole in your pocket, “Do you like sex?” You ran the bar of soap down his back, no wash cloth in sight.

“It’s … pleasurable.”

Your mouth twisted, “I thought maybe…it didn’t work.”

He laughed, “You wouldn’t be the first. Works fine. I just don’t care to use it much. I don’t-“ a pause, he considered how to say it as he had never said it out loud before, “I don’t see the appeal, typically. There’s better ways to enjoy my time and chase pleasures than sweating over a stranger,” The word stranger floated in the air around you. Alastor felt the need to push it away, dispel it as quickly as he could, “Dancing is basically the same thing, which seems to be the issue with current society.”

“I can respect that. Well, I’m relieved you aren’t dependent on murder for an erection because I don’t think I can hide that many bodies.” A chuckle from him, but you grimaced. Not now, don’t joke now. Stop hiding from the uncomfortable vulnerability of blunt honesty. You were glad he couldn’t see your face, resting your head between his shoulder blades as you lazily washed his lower back and down, “Don’t push yourself. I know I’ve been-,”

“Affectionate?”

“Aggressive.” You winced, “your word is better. Just, I wont… I can't enjoy something you don’t want.” Your traced circles onto his skin, “I can't get my rocks off to someone’s bad time.” A smile you couldn’t see, small and warm. “I hope it’s obvious I won’t go anywhere.”

He laughed louder, offending you a little.

“Sorry, it’s just— yes that’s been made clear. I quite literally told you to stop following me and somehow here we are.” He looked over his shoulder at you and gestured for the soap. You shook your head no.

“Turn around.”

He paused.

“Not— not like that. Unless you want me to?” You would drop to your knees so fast you would damage the tub if he said yes.

“I’m good dear, thank you.”

The tub was safe.

You took your time, covering his chest in suds, his arms, his sides. You did get on your knees after all to wash his feet, his calves, his thighs. You stopped short of going any higher.

He looked down right bashful. It was so cute you wanted to shove your face into his crotch and scream.

Alastor wasn’t used to people handling him. Not outside of uncomfortable situations. The order of events typically went as follows:

Date makes a move. Alastor politely redirects. Date gets annoyed because it’s not the first time he’s done this. Alastor offers other ways to please them, be it his hands or his mouth. They either get sad (‘You think I’m repulsive, don’t you?!’) or angry (‘What kind of man are you?’).

If he didn’t find them worth the effort, he would simply end the date then and there. But if he liked them enough, enjoyed their company enough, needed them for some purpose enough, he would acquiesce. They would touch him, and he would react like the touch-me-not plant he used to harass as a child, moving without thought from the stimulation. And he’d think about more engaging things until he got them to finish or he could say he did.

And it would buy a little more time with good enough affection and good enough company and good enough reasons.

Good enough. ‘Enough’ was right there in the phrase.

And then it would repeat until someone gave up.

When he didn’t move or reply as your hands sat where his thighs met his hips, lost in some train of thought, you left it be and stood. Lathering your hands, “One spot left!”

He suddenly looked so tired, eyebrows rising as if to ask you ‘what’s that?’ yet the dullness of his eyes indicated he wasn’t actually asking.

But like a fall from a mildly scary height into the sea, thrilling but safe, he tensed as your hands moved. When you began to wash his face, he hit the water feet first. His shoulders noticeably relaxed, and you thought you saw his chin shake a little, but you let it go to rub circles on his cheeks. You got behind his ears and under his chin. You tried to make a mustache but the soap didn’t lather well enough for that.

“You’re not missing out. I don't look good in facial hair.” He said, and you believed it.

You handed him the soap and let him finish cleaning himself, trying to steal looks without being too obvious. Making a mental note to yourself for every piece of him to compliment later when he was more comfortable.

It tickled when he washed you, those soft fingers making bubbles across your skin. The steam was dampening his hair. Ah, you just noticed he wasn’t wearing glasses.

“Can you see? Without the glasses?” He was down now, cleaning your already clean legs.

“Ah, well, no.”

You held up 7 fingers.

He squinted then made his eyes wide, “Hmm…. Two hands.” You pushed him down with your foot to his chest, him catching himself with his arm. “At least I didn’t say three, dear.”

You play kicked, “Unfunny!”

When he laughed now he looked boyish. His laughter bright as a bell. It was so jarring that it made your subconscious remind you of the dead man lying in the other room. The juxtaposition impossible to ignore.

Alastor noticed the shift in the air, getting up and setting the soap down on the lip of the tub. His hands rubbed your cheeks, your chin, your nose.

“You can leave after you’re all cleaned and dressed.” He was looking at your nose as he spoke.

“I can do anything I damn well want.” Your eyes skirted around his face before making him meet your gaze, “Atleast to the car. Okay?” Suddenly insecure about how aggressive you were, “Please.”

Alastor nodded, could he see your smile? You could see his.

It was unspoken, and somehow equally shocking as the night you grabbed a dead man by the legs, that you dressed each other. Domestic was the only word for it and it was downright frightening for you.

But your body didn’t stop, some magnets in your fingertips drawn to the buttons of his shirt, to the collar you adjusted, to his glasses that you rested on the bridge of his nose.

Alastor hadn’t any idea what he was doing, perhaps his mother had told him to do this and he had long forgotten it. Maybe he saw it in a movie. Or read it in a book. But gingerly, as you sat on a side of the bed away from Tommy, he knelt and rolled up your stockings, watching as you clipped them to the garter belt. He slipped on your shoes and took your hand to help you stand. As you put on your dress his hands took the buttons at the bottom and yours took the top, meeting in the center. His newly clean fingers straightened out the wrinkles.

He avoided looking you in the eyes, something heavy in the space between you two telling him the air might catch fire if he did. He didn’t know what that meant, and he had done enough new things for one evening.

“Can I ask you something?” He took the twine that tied the clothes together and began looping it through eyelets in the canvas.

“Of course.” He could ask you anything, if you answered was still up in the air.

“Why did you work for a man like that?” Continuing to avoid your face, he busied himself with drawing the sides and corners of the canvas up like a giant sachet.

A good question. One you would think he’d have asked before the murder. “He wasn’t like that before. This whole… thing was a recent shift. I know it was gambling but I think he was getting into some hard drugs too. His behavior had just gotten erratic.”

He tied the twine tightly, “It seemed impulse control was an issue for him, given his brief conversation with me. This-,” he pointed at you, suddenly full of passion again, “This is what I meant. I don’t talk to men for long. What a terrible conversation that was.” You fought back a smile. “Was he bragging? You wouldn’t believe the number of men— well I suppose yes you would.” He pushed up his sleeves and held them in place with arm bands, “If that is the typical sexual tendencies of men then I’m glad to see I evolved past it.” Alastor was spewing a stream of consciousness that even you could tell was out of character.

Or perhaps, “I have a feeling you’d be saying all this if I were here or not.” You stared down at the canvas bundle.

That smile again, “Normally it’s under my breath but— they don’t seem to mind!” He gave the bundle a tug, checking for the sturdiness of the twine.“So, usually I do this closer to the car…”

It was unladylike and you loved it, legs open wide as you lifted your half of the bloody package. You lumbered down the tight stairwell as he went backwards, insisting it was the gentlemanly thing to do. There was a moment you were alone at the bottom of the stairs as Alastor brought the car around. You gave the body a little kick, “Why’d you have to go and be such an ass?” Mumbled under your breath like a professional.

As you both stood there, trunk full of Tommy between you, you were unaware of what little wildfires you’d set off in the other.

Alastor felt his stomach flipping, an impulse to grab your face with both hands and kiss you making his fingers tap the roof of the car. He was worried if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop. An issue he had never had before, but it still felt like an issue nonetheless. It was, wasn’t it? An issue?

Something in you felt like the good wife in the doorway, waving your darling off to work in the morning. Wanting to plant a kiss on his cheek and straighten his bow tie. If you’d seen a neighbor do it you’d roll your eyes and fake a gag, but you wanted to give it to him. You wanted to give him consistent adoration he could rely on and that was the only example you could think of. A nervous hand considered clawing the feeling out of your chest entirely.

You both decided to play it cool, Alastor dialling back the urge and planting a single kiss to your nose. You hummed, “If anyone asks…”

“You saw Tommy take the cash and leave.” Alastor said quickly, so confident you could believe maybe you had.

You nodded. Biting your bottom lip you stopped the urge to offer more help. Trust needed to exist that he’d ask for it if he wanted to.

Maybe your face was losing its skill, mask dissolving under the events of the night, because a grin spread across his face, “Baby steps.”

Always scared of letting him slip through your fingers, you tried to hide how badly you needed another date to look forward to. Pursing your lips, “Speaking of, we’ve checked off public acts of indecency, a dance hall romp, and now some gentle sex near a formerly living man. Would you like to get coffee this week?”

“In the daytime?” False incredulity

“Fully clothed.” You added.

If he hadn’t stifled his laughter, it could have been dangerous, “Scandalous.” A small panic, he hadn’t actually agreed yet. An unfamiliar feeling of insecurity came down on you like a mistimed curtain fall.

“I’ll need a few days…Saturday, at ten, the little cafe at the west entrance of our favorite park?”

Our. Your knees buckled a little.

“Sounds positively deviant. I’ll be there with bells on.” Why was your heart pounding now. Why now?

“It’s a date then.” A kiss to your cheek, he tensed, holding back. “Can I drive you home?,” it was spoken into your skin. His lips not leaving your face.

“I have to go back in. Tell everyone how much of an ass Tommy is for leaving me all alone with that wealthy bore.” Your cheek leaned into his kiss. His lips dragged across your skin to find your mouth, still open.

He exhaled, shakey and slow. Your eyes saw something new; dilated pupils staring down at you. A heat was pooling in your lap again, never so receptive to a pair of eyes before.

“Should I come back?” He knew he shouldn’t.

Luckily so did you. “You know I’m not far from here. Just get home, or wherever you're going, safely.” He finally let his mouth capture yours, his hands roaming the soft fabric of your dress. Red, smooth, warm. You broke away, pulling from some well of strength you didn’t know you had, “If the girls see— there’s no motive quite like a jealous man.”

That grin erupted, beaming a toothy smile that warmed you to your core, “Endlessly fascinating.” His fingers lingered on you until they were pulled away by the limits of his reach, him backing up to the car door, “Be safe. Good night.”

Your legs crossed one in front of the other, had a man ever considered your safety enough to say it out loud? Without adding some patronizing addition like “little lady” or “pretty thing” to it that felt more like an admission of intent? “Good night.”

Alastor rode home in silence, sometimes so lost in thought he would snap back to reality and realize he had no idea how long he had been driving. It would take a second but he would confirm he was still on the right path.

It was too soon to bring you to his home. He knew that was a logical statement. However, every other part of him wanted to carry you over his shoulder into his house and show you around, excited to hear your responses to the details of his safe harbor. He could cook for you. You two could push the sofa back and dance in the sitting room. The back porch was lovely for early morning reading.

An incorporeal pain tore through his stomach.

Hands gripping the steering wheel, bright eyes popping up from the tall grass as he rumbled past.

He was getting ahead of himself again. All of the idioms he was taught were going up in flames.

‘Don’t put the cart before the horse.’

Unfortunately he had guilded the cart as well, so weighted with the gold of his hopes he was worried the axis would snap.

‘Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.’

He had saddled you with an entire coop of his joy. Unfair and unwise.

‘Pearls before swine’

He was, like many men, reduced to a greedy mouthed animal at your feet, incapable of appreciating your attention as it should be. But he didn’t want you to stop. Perhaps a pig could learn?

So much for evolved.

As he pulled into the dirt driveway of what was his father’s home, then his mother’s home, now his own, he wondered what your first thoughts would be. Would you like it? Were you expecting something grander? Something shiny and new?

When he was backed up to the greenhouse he rested his head against the steering wheel.

The smell of the soap was heating up with his thoughts, remembering your hands. You smelled the same now tonight, the same soap. What an intimate thing to share. Could he ever hope to share such things with someone, or was it foolish to spend time thinking about it?

Alastor would give nearly anything to share a set of plates with someone gentle, to have a set of hand towels in the bathroom for himself and someone patient, to warm two mugs in the morning with coffee for himself and someone understanding.

A secret little dream he threw away shortly after entering adulthood. Which was fine for him. If having those niceties meant having to fake that a part of himself mattered more than it did, he didn’t want them. Not that much. He was already putting on a show outside, he couldn’t bring the audience into his home. His mother’s home.

As he grappled with Tommy’s impromptu shroud, he considered his outward image.

He was proud of it. He chose to have it, it was a tool that got him far in life and elevated his status. No qualms. Just, when you expect to do something all of your life alone, it’s foundation shaking to learn perhaps you didn’t have to.

He had convinced himself he preferred to be alone. But now it seemed maybe he had been lying to himself. At some point he confused accepting a situation with preferring it.

He stared down at Tommy’s pale face, clothes dirty and body stiffening on the metal work station of the greenhouse. He probably would never have learned about Tommy if not for you. No rumors or whispers or warnings about a theater manager abusing the artists in his employ were floating around.

Again, he felt his chest tightening. It didn’t matter if he had had the man already in his sights or not. He would have killed him. Alastor ran his hands through his hair. Would you have stopped him, would he have let you, if you swore Tommy didn’t deserve to die?

No. A silly rhetorical. Had you begged on your knees with tear stained eyes he’d have kissed your cheeks and said whatever you asked to hear. And then he would wait for Tommy to be alone in a dark place like he did the others. And he would avoid looking you in the eye for as long as he had to, until you forgot about the former employer.

With a single and soft clap of his hands he shut his mind off and went about his work. Now wasn't the time for questions and what-ifs. He needed to make Tommy disappear as soon as possible. He didn’t usually kill so close together in time. A brief thought slipped through the cracks of his walls, This would be easier with help.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

No one noticed Tommy was missing until the following night. But given he’d gotten a considerable payday Monday the staff just assumed he was off snorting his profits.

It wasn’t until Wednesday morning did police come by, Tommy’s mother having called in a missing person’s report.

You heard the girls speaking to the detective outside the dressing room before rehearsals.

“This is typical Tommy.”

“He’s been dabbling into some heavy stuff.”

“You didn’t hear it from me, but! I heard he got,” you couldn’t see what she was doing, “ya know?”

When the detective looked into the dressing room and asked who he hadn’t spoken with, your eyes met in the mirror, recognition painting his face.

“Detective Brady! The assistant manager can talk now.” Someone called from down the hall. You continued covering your bruises, hoping he hadn’t noticed them. With a pat to the door frame, metal ring clinking, he left.

He didn’t have time to speak with all of you before it was doors open and left before the show began. As soon as you got home you fished around in your key bowl for the crinkled card.

You dropped it back in, hands coming to your face. Of course. Why would it be any other man?

Deep breathes. It isn’t strange he ran into you before, you worked and lived in the area. He probably handed that card to every woman he passed at night.

Slow breathes. The girls did the legwork, just follow suit. You were a single woman. No one would suspect you of anything unless they found a smoking gun under your pillow. Even then, if you could bat your eyelashes enough and find a dainty enough cross necklace you could beat any rap.

All you wanted now was to see Alastor and tell him. Three more days.

Surprisingly, the theater ran perfectly smoothly without Tommy. James, the assistant, stepped up and everything carried on as usual. The detective didn’t come back, either. Rumor in the dressing room was that Tommy had been an open-and-close case of bad decisions leading to bad outcomes.

There was a sadness at the theater regardless, no one having heard any news. He had wandered off before but he always returned in time for the big weekend shows. But Friday night came and went and Tommy never showed. Which for you was expected, but the other staff seemed worried. The girls, not so much.

You weren’t as scared as you had thought you’d be. For yourself, atleast. You would rather die than let Alastor be found out because of you. Maybe he would have advice to ease you. Even if he didn’t, you’d be comforted getting him up to speed.

Knowing you’d see Alastor soon was like knowing when the next big rain was coming. You spent all week planning your time around it.

Except for the small detail that you hadn’t actually known where the west entrance was to the park, or even that the gates had names. But you found it easily enough. As you approached you could see him waiting, a blue suit without the jacket, was there a color he wouldn’t look charming in?

No. Silly questions seemed to be in the air lately.

You slowed as you approached, him hearing the click of your shoes and turning before you could gather your thoughts. This was the first time to see him in the daylight.

His mouth was moving but you didn’t hear anything, brain short circuiting. His hair looked so much brighter in the sunlight, sun passing through brown locks. You could see his eyes looking at you, brows rising as he questioned something, but your thoughts were arrested by the color of the gaze you’d spent weeks trying to get into the focus of; a bright honey brown that seemed to shimmer. A little pop of light bounced off a button of his vest, his smile gleamed as he leaned towards you.

Run. You had no business here. A possibly soon-to-be criminalized dancer and him. You should have worn a better dress. Should have gotten your hair done. Should have better.

Alastor couldn’t figure out what your face was saying. He was proficient in reading the expressions of others, in discerning the changes in the air of any given room, but this… he couldn’t place. Your eyes were wide, smile taut and flat as you took a step backward. His hand reached out to stabilize you, your heel catching on the uneven pavement of the lesser cared for wards of the city.

“What’s wrong?” His smile softened.

You spoke without thinking, something you never did, “You’re too beautiful. I should go.” Your attempt to turn away only half in jest. His bright laugh rang out, melting the muscles of your legs.

“That’s a new one.” His fingers lingered on your arm, “You can pick a seat, I’ll grab coffee. No staff on the patio.”

Considering fleeing still, you thought about how sad he would be standing there with two coffees in his hands. The weather was quickly cooling, but in the early sun the outdoor seating was perfect for a coffee date.

Shaking off the nerves, you tried to get a fucking grip. You adored your physical form, you had no issues thinking you deserved whatever you wanted to have. But, well, it was like he was glowing from the inside out. Even his skin seemed to catch the light. There was that quick heart beat again. You looked through the glass front, Alastor in line. If you had gone through with the plan to rob him, and had he returned in the daylight to argue with you… you’d have just handed back his wallet and maybe even your own.

The least attractive thing about him was his money, strange considering it was normally the most important thing a man had in his pocket for you.

Did he know? That you had been-

“Autumn, was it?”

You heard something in your neck pop as your head spun toward the voice. The color left your face, you stood so quickly you almost knocked the chair over.

“Detective! What a blessing!” Your hands were trembling as you reached out for one of his with both of yours, “You’ve been on my mind lately.”

The detective, tall and lean, eyes a striking cool blue and hair the color of wheat, removed his hat. “Oh?”

“Yes. I never got a chance to thank you for saving me last week. That man was just not taking no for an answer.” You took several steps to the left, making his back turn towards the cafe doors.

“I thought maybe you’d been cross with me. You ran off like-.”

“I was just nervous. I didn’t know if you were for real or just another trickster trying to get a lady alone.” You stared at his eyes, trying to keep him focused on you.

“Ah, well, you had good reason to be. Lucky coincidence seeing you here.” He set his hat under his arm, “I was just headed to your manager’s mother’s home.”

Your eyes flitted to the counter, back to Brady. “Oh? Is…is it bad news, sir?”

“Not a trace of the man. But, that isn’t uncommon down here I suppose.” The detective sat down at the table you’d been at….you stayed standing. He motioned for you to take a seat, “That being said, I don’t think Tommy just wandered off with some cash.”

Were you wearing your perspiration pads under your dress? You think you were. If not, maybe you could just spill water on yourself and say it was a stain. Stiff, you took a seat.

“I was hoping to interview the rest of you ladies. I was going to stop by tomorrow but, if you have a moment, what can you tell me about him?” His eyes looked like ice, their effect similar as a chill ran down your spine.

“Well, oh geez… I don’t want to speak ill of anyone, ever.” Your hard learned skills were coming back to you. Your hands came together to shyly fidget with each other.

“Consider it a help to the police, no worries ma’am.”

“Miss.” You corrected, that practiced smile small and chaste, “I’m not married, sir. As you can imagine, in my profession, it is very hard to come by good, honest men.”

A chuckle, he put his hat down on the table. Fuck. Fuck!

“But, uh, yes. I can tell you quite a bit. Tommy was a fine man. For awhile. He was very respectful to us. A clean and tight ship.” You saw the door open behind him, Alastor using his back as his hands were full. “But, the last three months or so, he started getting mean.” You leaned forward, putting your left hand on Brady’s that rested on his hat. Your right hand slipped to the side and under the table, waving frantically to Alastor to turn back around.

Without question he swiveled on his heels, sitting down at another empty table near the cafe doors with his back to you.

You gripped his hand and the hat with one motion, and set it back on his head, “If he saw me talking to a flat foot…it could be a lot of trouble. Maybe we should speak privately.”

Why were you incapable of finding a balance between honey and venom? Your words came out too sweet, voice dipping into the tone you reserved for marks.

“Ah, well…Miss Autumn-,” Brady shifted in his seat.

You stood up, slapping his shoulder, “I meant the theater! Sir!”

He flustered, shaking his head and standing too, “I didn’t say anything!” His nervous laughter eased you, walking further from the table so he would follow. “Well, I’ll be by tomorrow. Maybe we can finish this conversation.“

A nod, not at all intending to tell him you didn’t work Sundays, “That sounds good. Anything I can do to help. But really, I expect Tommy will show up as soon as the cash runs dry.”

With a tip of the hat, he walked off to bring bad news somewhere else.

You waited a moment before moving to the seat across Alastor. You thought your bones had turned to jelly, “Thanks for the rerouting. Was I obviously rattled?” You were mortified.

“No, not at all!” Alastor set the cup in front of you. “A former beau?”

You shook your head, “Worse. Detective Brady back there came by the theater this week, but didn’t have time to speak to me. Just so happened to see me now on his way to Tommy’s mom. Actually, that was something I wanted to tell you. I’ve met him before.”

His brows rose, blowing slightly on the coffee, “Oh? A patron of your theater?”

“No. That night with Legs. He stopped me a quite a few blocks before I found you. Gave me his card and a warning about missing people and something about little ladies being out at night.”

Alastor nodded, unphazed.

“Should I be worried? Because I’m worried.” You couldn’t even touch your drink, stomach in knots. He smiled, breaking the spell Brady had cast over you.

“Without a body there is no proof anyone is dead. That’s all that matters.” Alastor was cocky, leaning back in his chair with a far too relaxed demeanor.

You hadn’t realized your shoulders were so tight, “Sorry for shooing you away. I just got so scared! If he knows I,” You caught yourself, face going red as you corrected, “thought I had a guy, it could put you under a spotlight.”

His hand came over and gently rubbed your open palm with his thumb, “You’re right. That was smart, thank you.” Alastor smiled brighter, “Now! Let’s put that behind us. I don’t have a terribly long time. There’s a couple things to discuss. Most importantly,” he leaned over the table, face serious, “You think I’m beautiful?”

You kicked at his shin under the table, “My heart nearly stopped! I thought it was something important! Unfunny!”

A snicker, “Cruel?”

You nodded, “Very!”

It was by most people standards a normal date. It only strayed from mundane when Alastor walked you home and asked if you had any nightmares about Tommy.

When you told him you hadn’t slept that well in weeks, and thanked him softly for his affection as you felt that had something to do with it, he hummed happily. He offered you his home phone number, you gesturing to the phone box at the corner in return.

The nights were busy, so you often spoke in the mornings before his work. You’d made somewhat of a schedule, waiting in the booth around when you knew he was up and settling with coffee. He’d call, you’d ramble about your evening and what wild thing happened. Luckily the detective never returned after his Sunday visit so your stories were just fun and lighthearted. His laughter sounded so good over the staticy phone line. He would tell you about his work, about the bands he had the pleasure of hearing. New Orleans was the undisputed mother of jazz, and it showed in the fervor of his audience. It wasn’t uncommon he was busy keeping up with demand for more big and new sounds.

While you enjoyed every opportunity to see him, be it coffee at a different cafe than the first or a walk around forested areas you knew were of use to him, the calls were nice. It allowed you to enjoy him without worrying about putting any undue pressure on him. You could twirl your phone cord and bite your lip without concern.

But finally, the moment you’d been waiting for. You called Alastor and he sounded tense, like he hadn’t slept. With a simple “What’s wrong?”, he asked if you’d want to help him with work.

The first one was almost too easy. Alastor had you wait at a bar where a man he clued you in on frequented. A staff member of his station had missed work for several days, supposedly sick. Alastor got the real story from eavesdropping on the ladies at lunch. The man, Mr. A. Wellington, was next. After watching and waiting, Alastor knew the man’s patterns well enough. Including you was a risk, but he had been fighting the urge to ask you for so long now. This one seemed it would be cut and dry.

All it took was a smirk, a well placed hand, a laugh. The man practically pushed you down the back stairs of the bar and out through the doors that led to the service street. So engrossed in ignoring your suggestion of slowing down, he didn’t hear or see Alastor standing feet beside you both.

The look of betrayal on the man’s face as his eyes flew from Alastor back to you increased Alastor’s high was three fold. He asked the man, already too gone to reply, if he remembered his staffer. “You should. She’ll always remember you.”

You leaned against the door that led back to the hotel bar. Your eyes and ears were open for any unwanted company, any possible danger. Other than your own little madman. Alastor took this one personally, you could tell by how much messier he was than the first two.

While he didn’t explicitly state his code of ethics for selecting “victims”, you had picked up on the pattern. A man who assaulted a young woman, a wife beater, a violent segregationist.

Was he really doing bad things? You found it hard to pity any of them.

Once the messy part was done you’d help get the man, as it always had been so far, into the trunk. You’d share a few kisses and clean the scene before being driven home, where you’d share a few more. Your favorite part, by far. And after you waved, he’d drive off to wherever he went with the dead men.

But one night was atypical. One night was downright horrible.

You lured a man into a large park beside the water. A part of you almost felt bad, as he sweetly held your hand. He had been a perfect gentleman, you seducing him at a dance hall. Alastor had warned you he was dangerous, but you wondered for a second if he was Dangerous or dangerous. Like Alastor-dangerous.

You found your answer when the man smiled down at you, telling you how beautiful you looked in the starlight, how you’d stay so beautiful forever, and wrapped his hands around your neck. Capital “D” Dangerous.

The man was knocked off balance by Alastor tackling him from the side. You all three fell into the dirt and grass. The wind was forced out of you from the impact, your hands failing to get traction as you tried to sit up. The ground was slick with mud from recent rains flooding the rivers. Hurricane season was already in full swing.

The man wasn’t huge, but he was larger than Alastor. You watched the men struggle, slippery ground complicating Alastor’s attempts to stay upright as he straddled the man, and he couldn’t get leverage enough to bring down the knife. Horrified, you sat on your legs feeling helpless as the man lifted himself and Alastor off the ground entirely and tossed him onto his back. A small cry, Alastor rolled away revealing a rock where his back had landed.

The man only needed one of his large hands to wrap around Alastor’s throat but he used two for the fun of it. Your shoes slipped off as you struggled to get to your feet like a baby deer newly introduced to the world. Everything was wet and spinning, your lungs were burning.

Alastor didn’t feel scared as his vision went black, just annoyed he had fucked up.

Even that feeling washed away as a grayness flooded into his consciousness. Everything lost color, flavor, texture. All urgency inked out.

Before everything slipped away, before he slipped under, he thought he heard his mother calling his name.

He thought he heard you scream.

Part 5 is halfway done 👌

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove @saccharine-nectarine

@looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith ,

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #human alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #hazbin alastor #fanfiction

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