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[lovethegenuine]

────۶ৎ figs. 18+ ‎ ‎ ⊹　₊ ao3

unmedicated & only motivated through short hyper-fixations but at least i'm an awesome writer!

currently writing for: joel miller (the last of us) and logan howlett (xmen) mr. crawling (homecipher) hector (date everything) protagonist (no i'm not a human)

Masterlist ✿ ׁ ₊

[lovethegenuine]

The Girl by the Door

Chapter One: A Chain Smoker's Oyster

Read it on ao3! (kudos appreciated)

Pairing: semi-canon!protagonist x fem!reader

Summary: You're back in your home country, Russia, in 2002, for certain circumstances. As you adapt to your new life, you'll find that this new year has a lot more in store for you than you're prepared for.

Warnings: Obviously +18, mentions of gore and death. There aren't many warnings to add right now, but do note that this series might have eventual smut and will have mentions of suicide. Not to mention, just heavy topics all around. (Specific warnings added to each chapter.)

Notes: I doubt many will read this. I'm considering this a passion project that I'm willing to publish so if you see this please tell me how it is! This is the first possibly non-smut fanfic I've published (wow,, what? no sex?????? but, lovethegenuine, you're so horned up 247...) shh just read it vro...

Word Count: 3.4k

Additional Notes: Various canon characters will make their appearances in later chapters! This first chapter is protagonist-centered :)

A criminal.

That’s what you were, at least in a different country.

A year ago, in America, you were arrested for shoplifting at your local Walmart. It wasn’t a felony, and you only had to go to court, but the experience was enough to make your parents embarrassed by you. Once you were released, they kicked you out of their home and sent you to live with your grandparents in Russia. You had dual citizenship and were technically an immigrant, so being sent back was no issue—legally, at least. Mentally, it was draining. You watched as clouds zipped past your plane, and soon you were brought to a home that you barely recognized. Your grandma greeted you with a loving scowl, and your grandpa side-smacked your head so hard, your ears rang.

They weren’t happy to see you, and it showed.

You spent your time reading and polishing your Russian. Your grandma sat you down daily to test you over and over. After that, you were expected to clean the house. Even though you were an adult, it felt like you were a kid again. You had nowhere else to go—no connections or money. Forever stuck with your grandparents in their boring ass hometown, in a country that felt like its own jail.

For the first few months, your grandpa refused to speak to you. Maybe it was your elementary-level Russian. Every time you tried to speak to him, you could tell it pissed him off. After seven months of nonstop practice and cleaning, your grandpa spoke to you at breakfast. He asked if you wanted to start exploring the neighborhood more. You said yes, expecting him to scold you for some reason. Instead, he simply nodded and finished his coffee.

That evening, he came home with a bike. It looked slightly dated; maybe it’d seen better days. However, it had a sturdy basket and was a nice baby blue. And now it was yours. You spent the rest of that year riding around the area, exploring and running errands for your grandma. Russia wasn’t too bad, especially now, since it felt like your punishment was over. However, some days it felt too warm. You’d often come home sweating hard, needing to take a cold bath. Your grandpa asked once if you were ok. He told you to wear lighter clothes and take water next time. You could tell that seeing your face red after only a short bike ride made him nervous.

Three days before New Year’s Eve, your grandma sent you out to buy tangerines. Even before getting on your bike, you felt remarkably hot. You could see the heat waves warping the air as you rode to the market. Everyone was sweating just like you, and you could see and smell the sweat of the poor people who had to bake under the sun to make a profit.

But it was December—December in Russia. Why the fuck was it so hot?

After you came home and had a bath, you could hear your grandparents at the kitchen table. They had the radio on, listening to the local news. It was about the weather. You could hear a man on the station talk about the increasing temperature. It sounded like he said it could reach 98°C soon. You became cross.

Around 200°F? That’s like, impossible.

You came out into the kitchen in your pajamas and sat with them. Your grandpa looked at you and then back at your grandma.

“Maybe we should send her back.” He whispered in Russian.

“What? Why?” You blurted in English.

“It is getting too hot.” He replied, looking concerned.

“You think it’s gonna be any better in America?” Your grandma retorted.

“I want my granddaughter here.” She continued.

They looked at each other for a second. The air felt tense to you.

“Don’t you think they’d want their daughter back in a crisis? We should send her back before it gets worse!” He cried.

“So you’re going to bake her in a plane?” She scoffed.

You stood up from your chair and walked to your room as they continued going back and forth, wondering if the planet could really get that hot. You found yourself in the kitchen, an evening later, peeling potatoes for dinner while idly watching what your grandpa had on the TV. It was a Russian crime show called Streets of Broken Lights, or something of the sort. It was quite fun, and you enjoyed finding things you could later bond with your grandpa over. You’d pretty much forgotten about the heat until an alert came blaring over the TV. Your grandpa cursed as he jumped in his seat. It was a warning not to leave your home for any reason during the day. Tomorrow, it was going to be 86°C.

What the actual fuck.

Your grandpa looked at you and then cursed again as he leaped from his seat and ran to the house phone. You stopped peeling and went to find your grandma. Frantically, you ran around the house, calling for her. There was nothing. Your grandma was gone. You started to sob as you ran back to your grandpa. He told you that he was leaving to find her. You panicked as he started grabbing his keys and his gun. You’re not sure why he’d need his gun, but before you could ask, he was halfway out the door while yelling at you, demanding you keep the lights off and the doors locked.

That was the last time you saw both of them.

You spent the rest of that night blocking all the windows. You didn’t know if that would stop the heat, but it was worth a try.

You kept the TV on the entire time, trying to catch any information that might help. While listening to the news at the lowest volume, you heard some other, if not more horrific, news.

Alien-like humans. Monsters. The reporter landed on the word visitors.

Why visitors?

You stayed sat on the couch, waiting for one of your grandparents to come home. Being alone was starting to stress you out. Hours flew past, and soon the adrenaline in your body died down. You fought the sleep as best you could, but suddenly you woke up, not remembering when you had fallen asleep.

You looked at the windows that you’d covered. Through the black fabric, you could see that it was daytime, and nobody had returned.

Every step you took felt heavy, not just from the sweltering heat, but from the mental strain that had you overcome with anxiety. Time felt unbearable to comprehend. The thought of perception or the very action of thinking about anything at all was suddenly too strenuous. Did the heat melt your brain like it was now trying to do with your skin?

You knew this would be survivable. You checked the thermostat, and it was 30°C in the house. It wasn’t the worst you’d been through, but suddenly you felt like you were being hot-boxed—just bathing in your sweat as it cooked you like ham. You kept pressing your finger on the dial until it reached the lowest temperature it could go, praying the heat hadn’t destroyed the AC.

You ran the water in the bathroom, hoping to start a cold bath, but it was already steaming. Even though you wanted to cry, the heat made you too exhausted, and you ended up just turning the water off and whining your way to your bed.

You could only imagine how hot it was out there. If only you could gather yourself enough to take a look outside. Then again, you realized that one look might be enough to burn your retinas permanently.

You only managed to get out of bed once. For a while, you laid on the floor after stripping off your pants. The fabric was damp, and your thighs felt cool from the moisture that had been stuck to your skin. Maybe you were being a little dramatic, but it really felt like it was getting hotter. Being in 30°C weather outside was manageable. When you biked, you had the privilege of feeling the cool air that hit you every time you went downhill. However, there was nothing to cool you off in your tiny room.

You stayed on the floor for hours, eventually falling asleep. Once you woke up, you noticed the air was slightly cooler. You looked at the clock, and it was now 10:36 at night.

You got up to look around for your grandparents. Your back was damp from being on the carpet. After a look around the house, they still hadn’t come home. You decided now would be a good time to peek out your curtains. In hindsight, you truly had no idea what you would’ve seen; if you had the option to know, maybe you would have hesitated.

All across the road were the crisp bodies of those who had cooked in the sun. One of those could have been your grandparents, but it would’ve been hard to tell, since everybody’s skin was practically evaporated in the heat. You could only wonder how bad it smelled out there.

You noticed that people were starting to walk around. Some awkwardly averted their eyes from the bodies. Others looked normal as they continued their daily lives, just at night. You wondered how they could already adapt to such a horrific situation. You took a step back from the window, making sure to pull the curtain back into place. You felt you needed to come up with a plan because you doubted you could stay here forever.

As you stood in place by the window, someone suddenly knocked on the door. You jumped from the sound and, for some reason, didn’t hesitate to make your way to the peephole.

It was a young woman, maybe around your age. She looked eerily normal—nice straight brown hair, clean face, healthy eyes. She smiled through the peephole like she was actually looking at you.

“Hello? I saw your face through the window.” She announced with a clean smile.

What the fuck type of greeting is that?

Her teeth were dramatically white. Like, supermodel white. It made your stomach ache.

You didn’t give her a reply, but instead kept staring at her through the tiny glass. In your head, you wondered where she came from and why she picked your house.

She inched her face towards the peephole and searched through it, all with that same smile.

“I see you!” She cheered.

You shot back from the door in horror. She began knocking violently as you staggered back. Your legs trembled, and with every bit of strength you had left, you hid back in your room, hoping that she would eventually just leave.

Luckily for you, she did.

It became completely silent after an hour of hiding under the covers. You felt like how you did when you were a kid. Just an anxious little girl on the brink of tears, hoping Momma would come soon to wrap you in her warm arms and soothe your fears.

You sobbed again, thinking of your mistakes and how if you hadn’t done what you did, maybe you would’ve been able to hug your mom or at least not be alone.

You knew you couldn’t stay here. Soon, more would come back around and target your house again. But where would you go? It was already almost midnight; you would have about five hours left before you’d start to roast.

I need to find someone to stay with.

You gave it some thought. In reality, there was no way you’d make it out of this situation alive. You would either die here, starving to death, have your house broken into, or die in the daytime trying to make it to shelter. Survival, at that point, was slim. But truthfully, if you had nobody, was there really a point? You had no idea if your parents back home were still alive, and the possibility of them actually being such seemed incredibly low.

You curled your body up more under the blanket, and suddenly, you felt so small and fragile. How could it be that your entire world could collapse in a week? Everything that you’d ever known—jobs you’ve had, mouths you’d kissed, hands you’d held, experiences, good and bad, they would all be discarded soon. There was nowhere to store them; no capsule to put them in. No one to tell all of your experiences to, and hope they keep your memory alive. You’d lived your life, and suddenly you felt that there was nothing to show for it.

Nothing. There would be no proof of your existence except for your charred skeleton. And then where would that skeleton go? Who would know that skeleton’s name?

You cried as you slowly unraveled yourself from your cocoon. You looked around your room, deciding what to take. It was hard to tell which items were which because your tears blurred your vision.

In the end, the only things you packed were clothes, a journal, and a picture of the last family trip you’d taken.

If nobody would remember you, at least you’d die remembering yourself.

You changed and then left for the last time. You wondered whether anyone would cherish this house the way your grandparents did. At some point, it will probably be burned down. It terrified you to think of that.

You looked out every window; there were noticeably fewer people out. The dwindling numbers intimidated you for a minute. Where did most of them go?

You couldn’t sit on it because time was running out. You hadn’t listened to the radio in a while, so you figured that maybe there was a survivor’s camp nearby, and that’s where everybody went. Going out the side door, you picked up your bike and locked the door behind you. The air was incredibly stiff. You felt slightly suffocated as you kicked the break up and began your journey out of the neighborhood.

Not to mention, it smelled horrific.

Your senses made it feel like you were prey. You tried to calm yourself down by telling yourself the worst thing that can happen to you is getting locked out in the sun.

You had no idea what was really out there, because there was so much worse.

There wasn’t a lot outside. For the most part, it was just groups of survivors walking. Some were playing; others were acting pretty normal. It felt like a busy night. One thing you noticed was how many were knocking on doors, asking to be let in. They looked terrified and on guard. You could understand, for the most part. The sun was literally about to come out in a couple of hours. But, they were looking behind themselves, like they were searching for something, or someone.

You continued down the road until it was completely empty. You were on a new path to a neighborhood you hadn’t been to yet. The road was semi-clear, if not for a couple of bodies. You looked out into the field on your right and gazed at the uncut grass, which swayed in the warm breeze.

Your eyes widened.

What the fuck is that.

There was a freakishly tall man in the weeds. He had this thick white smile, almost as white as his entire body, and was looking directly at you. You almost crashed into a body on the road while keeping your eyes on him. You passed with no issue, but it shook you up. You knew he was the person whom the people knocking on those doors were scared of. Suddenly, you didn’t want to be out there any longer.

You kept on and soon entered a new neighborhood. The houses were farther apart, and you could see the residential apartments in the distance. You slowed your bike down as you surveyed each house. There was one in particular that caught your attention. It was a white family home, and by god, you hoped there was a family.

You rolled your bike up to the door, shaking a bit. You looked behind your shoulder. There was no one, but the stretch of land that connected to the field where you saw that man still made you question if there was really nobody in your field of vision.

You parked your bike on the side of the porch. You knew this was probably the last time you’d see it, because unlike your house, this one had nowhere to hide it.

You walked up to the door, and with one shaky breath, you awkwardly knocked. It took you a second to get an answer. You were starting to get a little antsy when a man’s voice spooked you.

“Yea?” He said through the door.

“I’m from two neighborhoods down. I just need somewhere to stay before the sun comes up.” You knew you had more to say, but you kept tripping over your words.

You involuntarily kept looking back. Your heart was beating so fast it almost hurt to breathe.

He said nothing for a beat. At some point, you wondered if he had just left.

Then the door opened.

It was a man who looked to be in his late twenties. He had short brown hair with a high hairline, and he was wearing a blue turtleneck with the sleeves pulled up and grayish slacks.

And he looked annoyed.

I definitely chose the wrong house.

He motioned you in with his fingers, and you hurried in. It felt good to finally be in a home where you weren’t the only one inhabiting it. You closed your eyes and just breathed. It still smelled sour, but now the scent was dulled by the smell of wood and cigarettes. You’d take that any day over dead bodies.

“Show me your teeth.” He suddenly commanded.

You turned back to the man and noticed a rifle in his hands. You started to panic as he came closer. He squinted his eyes at you and made a confused expression.

“Why?” You squeaked.

Was he a serial killer? Did he collect teeth?

He stopped.

“I need to know if you’re a visitor or not.” He replied.

You remembered the news mentioning the visitors, but you couldn’t remember exactly what it said. Was this the ultimate test?

You trembled as you brought your hands to your mouth and pulled your lips apart. Your saliva was warm, and you could taste the salt on your fingers.

He glanced at your teeth for a moment and then scowled.

“Fucking white.” He began to lift his rifle.

You removed your fingers and shielded your face with your hands. He smacked your left hand away. You cried out as the pain stung your knuckles.

“You’re screwed.” The man mumbled as he shoved his rifle in your face.

The grooves of the cool metal sank into your sweaty face as the pressure from his gun forced you against the wall. You could still see his agitated face through your cheek fat now being pressed up against your eye. He was about to blow your head clean off for having white teeth of all things.

“Please. You can’t just…” Your voice began to falter as the fear froze your body.

You felt him reposition his gun in his hands, and instinctually, your hands began searching against the wall for something to hold.

“They’re slightly yellow!” You sobbed.

The tears from your eyes began to soften where the barrel made a suction on your cheek. You felt your body give out. It was like you were a baby bird, desperately scratching at the trunk of a tree, hoping to fly. You began to regret leaving your home. If you knew some freak would’ve pulled a gun on you, you would’ve stayed put under those covers and rotted.

“One chance. Please.” You croaked.

You closed your eyes, ready for the worst, and then he put the gun down.

You looked at his face and knew your reaction had shaken him. You had a feeling that he was going to shoot, but couldn’t find it in himself to pull the trigger. You fell to the floor with your back still against the wall. All of your senses were heightened. You’d nearly died, and now every sight, sound, and smell was about to make you throw up just by how overwhelming it was.

He dropped his gun on the ground abruptly. It made you yelp out. Before you could say anything, he rushed down the hallway and slammed a door.

It was going to be a long night.

[lovethegenuine]

Cut From the Same Cloth.

Art by: urinecrust on tiktok!

Read it on ao3! (kudos appreciated)

pairing: stalker/human!hector x afab/stalker!reader

Summary: An alternate reality where you've taken up stalking your next-door neighbor, Hector, only to find out he has the same sick and filthy obsession for you.

Warnings: Obviously +18, this is literally porn in essay format. non-con voyeurism (hector hides under your bed), oral sex, pnv sex, mutual stalking, biting/marking. Let me know if I missed something!

Notes: I love writing alternate realities, so don't kill me. I wanted to stalk him as much as he did for the player. Hector has me WHIPPEDDDD he's been all over my fyp so I cracked my fingers and got to fucking WORK. Originally, this was gonna be a series, but I already have a series going, and I can't focus on one thing to save the life of me, so one-shot it is! If this gets a good amount of attention, I'll consider turning this into a series. (more notes at the end for no spoilers!)

Word Count: 5.0k

Additional Notes: need that submissive hvac system

You'd always been the obsessive type.

As a kid, you would often become attached to various things, alive or material. It never did get better as you got older. In fact, the right person would consider it worse than before. However, you weren't the right person. If anything, you thought of yourself as charming. Wouldn't it be nice to be worshipped? To be loved beyond comprehension? This was always your way of justifying a lot of your weird behaviors. And it was the same for your new obsession: your next-door neighbor.

You had only seen him once, when you ran into him while leaving your home. You had given him a smile possibly too wide that he returned with a flushed face and pouted lips. That was more than enough for you to fall for him. He avoided you like the plague after, but given that you both lived side by side in an apartment building, you could hear him plenty, and you reveled in this.

All the times he spoke, coughed, or cursed. You heard it. The walls weren't thin enough to distinctly make out words, but you knew what his voice sounded like, and that's what mattered to you. Even on the nights when he moaned out just a bit too loud, you heard and cherished it.

After a month of having your new crush, you had already collected two beloved keepsakes—a recording of his moans and a piece of mail addressed with his full name.

Hector Valentino Airnesto Condicionado.

Sort of a mouthful, not that you minded. But, for the sake of quickened pleasure, you preferred to moan just his first name as you dreamt of all the ways you could confess to him.

Hector, I love you.

Hector, I need you.

Hector, let me be yours as you are mine.

Never mind the fact that you had only witnessed his existence once. Still, you continued to trace the outline of what little memory you had of him in your mind. From his brown skin, curly hair, and bushy eyebrows, to his crooked nose and faded mustache. You didn't care if these were the only traits you could recover. It was a blessing to you, nonetheless, and got you off many times.

You did, however, start to wonder if he was genuinely avoiding you, given that you never saw him again after you'd seen him in the hallway. If it weren't for the occasional sneeze or cough, you would have thought he was dead.

You did attempt to take it upon yourself to perform several wellness checks on Hector, but you could never catch a time when his door wasn't attentively locked.

Were you ugly? Was your smile too tense? Weren't you easy on the eyes? Didn't he want to see you too?

Every time you questioned yourself, it made you hot with anger. Can he see how fucking hopeless it made you to live without him? How crazy you became just at the idea of him? You started to suspect that he'd been depriving you of his presence on purpose.

He liked it—loved it, actually, to see you wallow and sulk around like a lost puppy. It was a test; you were sure of it. A test to see if you needed him as severely as you said you did.

After a whole day of working at your customer service job, you became especially riled up. You passed by his door as you did daily, but this time you stopped. Hector continued to stay hidden in the confinements of his home. Shifting your feet, you placed yourself directly in front of what now looked like the gates of heaven to you. You let one gentle fist raise as you contemplated the idea of giving his door a knock. Would he answer? What would you say if he did? I love you?

You eventually gave up and trailed back home, still yearning for just one interaction.

As you lay awake in your bed that night, you recounted that same series of questions you were forced to ask with no answer to follow. As you stirred in your anger, you slowly let your hand trail down to the waistband of your shorts. You teased yourself, pretending as if Hector was the one controlling the pace. Once you eventually let your hand enter your pants, you danced around the fold of your lips, gently dipping your fingers in and out, not yet probing yourself as you continued with your odd fantasy.

"Please, Hector. Let me feel you." You shuttered.

You hoped for a second that he'd manifest from the darkness of your apartment to take care of you. You wished so badly that he'd sense your pain and ease you with a pleasure only he could provide. If only he'd take control.

What did he smell like? What were his hobbies? Did he think you were pretty? What would he say as he fucked you? Would he be sweet or controlling? Honestly, just getting to know what he felt like would've been a gift alone. Was it bigger in width or length? Did his erection have a curve? What made him hard? What did he prefer in a partner? It didn't matter. You could become anything he wanted you to be at the drop of a hat. You'd do anything.

You eventually became so bothered that you lost control and began penetrating yourself. With two filthy fingers, you found yourself stretched around your digits as you continued to call out for Hector.

That is, until you heard his voice.

It was soft but close enough that you heard exactly what he said.

Your name in a soft whimper.

You thought for a second that you might've been mistaken, considering how close it was. It sounded crystal clear, like he was in the room with you. You put your masturbation on pause as you contemplated your sanity. Were you so pent up with lust that you started to have audible hallucinations?

Then came a soft exhale. It was crisp, not like the muffled quality you were so used to. In fact, you had half a mind to believe it came from under you. In all honesty, if Hector really were under your bed, you would jump for fucking joy. Just the idea made you shiver with delight. So, for fun, you decided to take a look.

You gathered yourself out of bed and bent under to take a peak. Aside from the occasional dust bunnies, the space under your bed was usually clear. On any night, you could look under and see the moonlight reflect off the floor across the other side. However, there was now a black mass in place of the empty space. It took your eyes a second to not only adjust but comprehend what was in front of you. When you eventually did, you were met with the awkward face of,

Hector.

His eyes were wide like a deer in headlights, frozen in place, waiting for your reaction.

You took a short breath, letting your body fall back in disbelief.

He took this as disgust and immediately fumbled awkwardly from under your bed.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll leave. I'm leaving now." He couldn't even look at you as he rambled on, apologizing profusely as he scrambled to fix himself.

He was touching himself. Not just anywhere, but under your bed. It was perverted, disgusting, horrific even. But above all things, it was filthy.

And it was your type.

Just as Hector was about to rush out of your room, you grabbed hold of the cuff of his jeans. It made him trip slightly, but it also got his attention. He looked back at you, angling his head downward to meet your eyes. He'd been so quick with his attempted exit that you hadn't really gotten a chance to look at him. Now that he was out from under the shadows of your bed, you could take in his appearance, just as you did the first day you met him.

His face was flushed, presumably with embarrassment. He looked at you like he was about to pass out. This was accompanied by his ragged breath and shaky legs. It was cute, just as you knew he would be.

"Why are you rushing to leave?" You pleaded.

You'd finally gotten what you had wished for: mutual attraction. Which is what you also assumed he'd hoped for. So you couldn't understand why he would even fathom leaving you again.

"Don't you want me to?" He squeaked.

You furrowed your brows in confusion.

"Did I say that? Come on, don't do this to me, Hector." You begged. It was slightly pathetic, but you were shamelessly desperate, and not an ounce of you could care less.

He raised his eyebrows, obviously surprised. You continued to look up at him, waiting for him to do anything. Letting go of his cuff, you watched the gears seemingly turn in his head. He looked at the exposed window in your room for a breath and then shuffled his feet to face you. You almost lost your breath as he squatted down to your level, his face now inches from yours. You felt your jaw falter as you became lost in his appearance. His mustache was fuller than before, as were his eyebrows. His brown skin was glossed with sweat that you knew would taste just as delicious as it smelled. One more second, and you would've taken your tongue to lick up the sweetness that seeped from his flesh.

He turned away from you with the same pouty lips he had in the hallway.

"Please, don't stare at me. I can't tell if you're disappointed or not." He mumbled.

His voice was meek. You could tell he wasn't much of a stand-up guy, given how hesitant he was in front of you. Was this the test? Was he behaving like this to see if you really were desperate? You finally had him, or would eventually have him. Not only that, but he presented himself to you. How sweet was he to not only return your affection but to stay.

"Disappointed?" You hurriedly closed the gap between you. With one swift motion, you took your tongue and slid it across his shut lips.

This was your way of giving your beloved consent, not that you felt he needed it. If he wanted you, he could've had you.

You leaned away for a moment to catch a glimpse of his reaction. He fell back, unable to handle his weight after your cheeky taste. He then lifted a shaky hand to cover his now immensely flustered expression.

"I've seen you already, haven't I? Hector. Valentino. Airnesto. Condicionado." You made sure to emphasize how well-known he was to you. How much care you had put into getting to know him with what little material he'd given you.

"If I was disappointed, would I be so eager to fuck you?" You leaned back into Hector's bubble, letting your hot whispers caress his slick neck.

You felt him shift under you with one nervous whimper. The faint light from the lamp on your bedside reflected off his sticky neck. Just one more inch and your teeth would collide into his sweet skin, finally getting to know what he tasted like.

"Ah, you, uh, know my full name." He sighed, his voice trembling with every word.

"Is that bad?" You replied without a beat, taking a moment to look at him from under his chin.

He fumbled over his words, taking quick looks at you before averting his eyes with growing embarrassment.

"No. It's just, well." You knew he had more to add to that thought; however, you became too impulsive at the moment.

Letting your greedy mouth take control, you began to suck at the side of Hector's neck. With every suckle, you listened as he attempted to put his thoughts into words rather than gibberish.

"God, I can't, my love, when you, please..." He tried to push you off with one weak hand to no avail.

He tasted rather salty in a way that made sense to you. It was gritty, rich, and a bit sour. Overall, it wasn't a bad taste by any means.

"I can't, I can't meet you like this." He whined.

"I'm sorry for being so desperate. Fuck!" He let out a tiny yelp once you added your teeth.

Once you had finished sucking, you unlatched your teeth from his neck. You looked at the spot you'd been working on to find a dark, purplish hickey in its place. A disgusting grin spread across your lips as you admired your creation.

As if you'd sucked out all of his energy from one kiss, he fell back now with his body entirely on the floor and under you. Seeing him sprawled out on your floor was practically a dream come true. What would you do with him first? Get to know him or get straight to business?

"This isn't how it was supposed to go!" Hector whined again, his body trembling as he attempted to slide out from under you.

"I was supposed to take you out first, get to know you, make your night. I was supposed to court you like a gentleman!" He haphazardly cupped one side of his face with one hand as he moved up.

You countered his attempts by stepping over him with every shuffle backward.

"Please, my love. I can't have you like this." He pleaded with you.

"You're a hypocrite, you know that, Hector?" You chuckled.

"You need to court me? Be a gentleman? Do gentlemen hide under the beds of the people they plan to pursue?"

He'd crawled out to the middle of your living room, making no progress in the sheepish attempt to escape from under you.

"I'm sorry, I truly meant to be patient, but after countless nights of hearing you moan my name, it was hard to stay forbearing." He finally looked up at you, meeting your eyes with a sulking expression.

"I don't need your apologies. Neither do I need you to woo me properly." You knelt your head back down to meet him almost at his lips.

"Wanna know the best way to win me over?" You snarled with bated breath.

Hector eagerly nodded his head.

"With every ounce of my being." He whispered back at you.

You cut the remaining inch between you and planted a gentle kiss on his warm yet dry lips.

"Fuck me." It was rather forward, but there was no other way to say it. You needed him.

He followed your lips as they left his, yearning to meet them again in the middle.

"Ok, I can, I can do that for you." He mumbled, returning the kiss with a more hastened attitude.

You found a comfortable spot on his lap as you finally laid your body onto Hector. With the way that you were positioned, you could feel the outline of his hard-on prodding at your pussy through the fabric of both his and your pants. It was wonderful—this moment of intimacy you could finally behold. You were on top of your cherished next-door neighbor, and kissing him at that.

After a minute of tender kisses, Hector let his hands finally touch you. Your whole body shivered as they began to roam across whatever exposed skin you had. He started at your shoulders, and soon his fingers traced down your arms, then to your back, where he rolled up the bottom of your loose tank to travel up your spine. You had planned to take advantage of the position you were both in by exploring every inch of Hector's skin, but he kept you low to him while slowly working towards eliminating your tank top. You let a series of small moans spill from your lips into the kiss. You felt his lips curl into a cheeky smile before you had to break the contact to finally remove your top.

"Contain yourself, my love. We haven't even started." Hector chuckled, still slightly awkward, but he was beginning to become more charming nonetheless.

Your chest was now exposed to him, given that you weren't ever wearing a bra. He tried to take a good look to marvel at the shape, but soon he became preoccupied again with marrying his lips against yours. So, he left it up to his hands to get to know every inch of them. He fondled your breasts with such a gentle touch that it was almost as if he believed they would shatter if he were to apply any more pressure.

You broke the kiss, which earned you some complaints in the form of whimpers from Hector. While it was cute, you paid no mind to it. Instead, you became concerned with something else: the skin under his shirt. He kept his warm hands on your breasts, groping and pinching at the tips of your nipples while you slid your hands under his top. Your fingers slowly started to become acquainted with the details of his exterior. This was, however, a challenging feat to accomplish because, with every pinch Hector gave your nipples, you tensed up with unfathomable pleasure. You felt your arms stall at his chest hair as you tried to twirl the hairs between your fingers to no avail. You didn't think you would ever be this sensitive, but soon you found yourself trembling from his comforting touch.

"Something wrong?" He cooed.

You could only whimper in response, which was pleasantly pathetic. The palms of his now increasingly hot hands slid off your delicate chest, down the sides of your quivering torso, finally finding themselves at the waistband of your shorts. With one sly finger, he tugged at the fabric, watching—waiting for your reaction.

You didn't realize it, but you'd closed your eyes shut, and it didn't occur to you until you had felt the sensation of his fingers creeping into your pants. You looked at him with eager eyes that he read immediately. Sitting up, Hector shifted his arms to cradle you as he turned the tables on you. You soon found yourself in the position he was in just a moment ago, under you. Your bare back lightly hit the cold floor, and once you were settled, he began to remove not only your shorts but your underwear as well. It was apparent that he was just as anxious to get what he'd wanted, just as you were.

"I do want to apologize for my growing absence, my beauty." He was practically salivating as he knelt down to face the entrance of your aching core.

You tried to keep a keen eye on Hector by elevating your body with your elbows, but you became so nervous that your head fell back, leaving everything he did as a surprise.

He parted your folds with two fingers and began to practically talk into your entrance.

"It was, embarrassing, to even consider showing my face after our premature meeting."

His hot breath played with the sticky skin of your cunt. With every flattering word that hit your filthy flesh, you grew more flushed and impatient. He was just as desirous but enjoyed watching you yearn for whatever—however he planned to please you. He was certainly at your service, but he planned to take his time just relishing in this newfound intimacy. He toyed with the idea of making you beg, but his lust was already unbearable. Besides, he couldn't fathom the thought of your sad puppy dog eyes as you whined for his touch. He didn't need the confirmation. Hector already knew how badly your body craved his. After all, he'd spent nights listening to your desperate yet soft cries of delectation. He couldn't bear to listen to them any longer.

With his searing tongue, Hector began to indulge in your flesh. You both had more to say to each other, but with the growing tension in the air, neither of you could take it. So straight to business it was.

Pleasure took control of you in the form of various sounds and twitches. Your hands attempted to grasp at the solid floor while your toes curled over themselves. As Hector sampled every inch of your cunt, he took one of your legs and put it onto his shoulder. He couldn't determine if he wanted to savor your reaction or taste. For the most part, it was both. While he worshipped you with his tongue, he made sure to revel in every whimper, every moan, and every grunt that made its way from your mouth. It was his work, after all.

Soon, Hector snuck a thick digit into you, which made you yelp in shock. He chuckled while keeping his warm mouth on you. The feeling of his one finger was surprisingly different from your two fingers. Maybe it was because you weren't the one controlling the pace or the pressure. However, giving it some more thought, it was odd. He used his finger as if he were more concerned with finding a specific spot. It soon became frustrating the more he continued.

You finally let your head fall forward to look down at Hector. Once your eyes hit him, you were met with a pair of cunning yet awkward eyes staring back at you. He took his mouth off your clit just enough for you to hear him talk yet also just enough for you to feel the heat of every word.

"Unsatisfying, right?" He snickered.

You furrowed your brow at him, making him laugh harder. He was playing with you, but you couldn't determine his purpose. Frankly, he was fascinated by how you needed him so badly. To say he was aware of your obsession with him would be a significant understatement. The first time he'd heard his own name whimpered through the thin wall of his apartment, he wanted to—well, he didn't really know what he wanted to do. He never thought you would actually take a liking to him ever.

Truth be told, he was the one who liked you first. The day you knocked on his door to introduce yourself after you had moved in, he never answered. But he watched you through the peephole, too nervous to open the door. He saw your sweet, confused face as you left and vowed that one day, he'd work up the courage to ask you out. The only problem for him was his "plain face" and "ugly features". So he kept you waiting for a day when that courage came. If it weren't for how desperate he was to be near you, you would've never seen him again.

"Alright, I'll do it properly." He promised, and soon, his lips found themselves latched onto your now puffy clit while his finger pumped in and out of you at a tantalizing pace.

Once he added a second finger in the mix, it was over. You felt the heat in you boil up as you grew closer and closer to your peak. The way his tongue was shockingly attentive made you eerily jealous. How was he so good? Why was he so good? Was he with others before you? How much practice had he had?

"How are you so good-!" Your growing anger was cut off by pleasure boiling over.

He made you cum. Quicker than you could've ever managed by yourself. It was slightly embarrassing how fast he drew that out of you, but then that shame morphed into agitation as he kept going.

"I came! You can stop, please!" You whined, giving him a tiny slap on the head.

He let out a small grunt but never let up. He helped you ride out your orgasm and then some. You became dizzy and frustrated by the constant feeling of lips licking and lapping at you like a lollipop. Your whines became louder, and the pumping of his fingers grew faster. It wasn't long before he sucked another orgasm out of you. Your body fell back onto the ground as you shivered with overwhelming delight. You almost felt tears collect in the corners of your eyes. It was too much. Thankfully, he finally had his fill after you came a second time.

He crawled up away from your cunt and back up to your rosy face with delicate eyes.

"I'm sorry. It's just that, the way you taste is heavenly. I felt increasingly like a ravenous dog as I ate from your sweet, sweet skin, my love." He shuttered a bit as he whispered close to your face.

You could smell yourself on his breath. It was, enthralling, to say the least. You both stared at each other for a minute, taking in the different details that made up the other person. Hector's eyes practically glowed in the darkness of your living room. He was in love, and it was plastered all over his pussy drunken face. You must've made a particularly needy face because suddenly, he leaned back and began to unbutton his pants. You scooted from under him and sat up, watching as he messed with his pants. It was funny; he was fumbling to button up his jeans just a moment ago. Now, here he was, desperate to do the opposite.

"Do you need me to tie my hair up?" You asked.

He froze and peered up at you in confusion.

"What, what do you mean?"

You froze yourself.

"What do you mean what do I mean?" You questioned. "Don't you want me to suck you off?"

"Oh. Hardly." He remarked like it was the most casual thing you could've asked.

He continued to undo the zipper of his jeans as you sat there in puzzlement.

"...Why?" You finally managed to say.

"Do you think I've been blue balling myself just to finally get a blow job? I'm sure your mouth would be something else, but I've waited too long, my love."

Without a second more, Hector pulled his already erect cock out from his jeans. Finally, you could have multiple answers to the plethora of questions you'd asked yourself plenty of nights. It was just slightly bigger in width than length. The size was quite normal but big enough to where you knew it'd hit all corners. He was also circumcised, and no, he did not have a curved erection.

You stared at his penis for longer than you should've. It was as if you'd found the correct puzzle piece, and now the picture would finally come together.

"And I'm sure you've waited too long, too, no?" He purred before scooting your body closer to his.

Your ass made an embarrassingly loud squeak as it slid across the floor. However, neither of you paid any mind because soon, Hector would be inside of you.

You let your body fall to the floor again as he lined his cock up to the entrance of your slick cunt. Slowly, he began to press it into you while holding your hips. This, of course, drew out a variety of different whimpers and whines. It wasn't entirely painful, but it was vastly different in comparison to just your two fingers. Once he bottomed you out, he looked at you and never let his eyes leave you again. You gazed back at him with a drunken expression and mopey lips. He smiled at you. It wasn't a malicious grin but a smile that matched the same tenderness that had run through him since the beginning. He began to pump in and out of you, watching the dissimilar faces that your features contorted into.

"You have a lovely face when you cum." He whimpered with a very meek voice.

You tried to remark with something but were too lost in the embrace of Hector to even think of what you'd say. This is how it went for the next five minutes. He would feed you sweet nothings, possibly fishing for a slurred yet coherent response, only to be met with a series of loud whines and gibberish. Through the sounds of slaps and your own enjoyment, you could hear Hector's voice begin to crack with every other sentence. Almost as if he was about to finish.

"Did you want to try a different position, my love? Or-!" Before he could conclude whatever he meant to say, he came.

It was fast. Quicker than you thought sex with Hector would be like. You felt his hot semen flood into you as he grunted and whimpered, tightening his grip on your hips as he whined the words, "I'm sorry!"

You watched as he averted his eyes from you with a guilty expression. Shivering, you propped yourself up and out of his lap with your hands. His penis slid out of you as you moved, and soon you felt his sperm do the same. You placed a gentle but shaky hand on his cheek, guiding his face back to yours. The remaining arm holding you up felt like jello. He'd somehow drained every bit of you. If he had came too fast this time, you didn't even want to imagine what sex would be like on his good days. His eyes found your face again, and he placed his now sticky hand atop yours. Another lovely smile painted itself across his lips, and like a disease, his visual delight spread to you. A grin likewise of the same loveliness soon laid itself on your face.

Nothing was said at that moment. The silence between the both of you was enough to say what needed to be said.

"I love you."

Well, maybe a couple of words needed to be spoken.

Regardless of the timing and the duration of what happened between you. It was still bound to be the start of a rather eccentric relationship. You were made for each other, and nothing would be better.

"I love you, too."

End Notes: I was originally going to include a plethora of things. Hector was actually going to drill a hole in your wall, but I didn't know how I'd make that work. I was also going to have you and Hector go a second round, but again, I'm unmedicated, and if I randomly go to TikTok instead of finishing my fanfiction again, I WILL kill myself. ALSOOO i want this blog to be filled with hector for a month so PLEASE if you want anything hector REQUEST IT!

[lovethegenuine]

i took a day to reread this and wtaf was up with me??? this is the worst fanfic ever LMAO i want to write a part two to combat this hot garbage corny ass piece of slop

[lovethegenuine]

cut from the same cloth was so good omfg 😭 i need to eat hector like an apple

dont we all .... 😣

[lovethegenuine]

... ok but WHY is Hector so good at giving oral.... (in reference to your latest fic lol)

actually, i left this up to interpretation for the reader's immersion, as per the plot you are this eccentric delusional neighbor. the point of where he learns this being vague is because it's meant to make you take a mental route. you can choose to be jealous and insecure or delusional. what if he learned his oral skills JUST to impress you? what if he's worshipped others in the past? lots of questions ... (WAYYYY too deep for a fanfic but i love writing :( so let me breathe with my hobby lol)

[lovethegenuine]

Cut From the Same Cloth.

Art by: urinecrust on tiktok!

Read it on ao3! (kudos appreciated)

pairing: stalker/human!hector x afab/stalker!reader

Summary: An alternate reality where you've taken up stalking your next-door neighbor, Hector, only to find out he has the same sick and filthy obsession for you.

Warnings: Obviously +18, this is literally porn in essay format. non-con voyeurism (hector hides under your bed), oral sex, pnv sex, mutual stalking, biting/marking. Let me know if I missed something!

Notes: I love writing alternate realities, so don't kill me. I wanted to stalk him as much as he did for the player. Hector has me WHIPPEDDDD he's been all over my fyp so I cracked my fingers and got to fucking WORK. Originally, this was gonna be a series, but I already have a series going, and I can't focus on one thing to save the life of me, so one-shot it is! If this gets a good amount of attention, I'll consider turning this into a series. (more notes at the end for no spoilers!)

Word Count: 5.0k

Additional Notes: need that submissive hvac system

You'd always been the obsessive type.

As a kid, you would often become attached to various things, alive or material. It never did get better as you got older. In fact, the right person would consider it worse than before. However, you weren't the right person. If anything, you thought of yourself as charming. Wouldn't it be nice to be worshipped? To be loved beyond comprehension? This was always your way of justifying a lot of your weird behaviors. And it was the same for your new obsession: your next-door neighbor.

You had only seen him once, when you ran into him while leaving your home. You had given him a smile possibly too wide that he returned with a flushed face and pouted lips. That was more than enough for you to fall for him. He avoided you like the plague after, but given that you both lived side by side in an apartment building, you could hear him plenty, and you reveled in this.

All the times he spoke, coughed, or cursed. You heard it. The walls weren't thin enough to distinctly make out words, but you knew what his voice sounded like, and that's what mattered to you. Even on the nights when he moaned out just a bit too loud, you heard and cherished it.

After a month of having your new crush, you had already collected two beloved keepsakes—a recording of his moans and a piece of mail addressed with his full name.

Hector Valentino Airnesto Condicionado.

Sort of a mouthful, not that you minded. But, for the sake of quickened pleasure, you preferred to moan just his first name as you dreamt of all the ways you could confess to him.

Hector, I love you.

Hector, I need you.

Hector, let me be yours as you are mine.

Never mind the fact that you had only witnessed his existence once. Still, you continued to trace the outline of what little memory you had of him in your mind. From his brown skin, curly hair, and bushy eyebrows, to his crooked nose and faded mustache. You didn't care if these were the only traits you could recover. It was a blessing to you, nonetheless, and got you off many times.

You did, however, start to wonder if he was genuinely avoiding you, given that you never saw him again after you'd seen him in the hallway. If it weren't for the occasional sneeze or cough, you would have thought he was dead.

You did attempt to take it upon yourself to perform several wellness checks on Hector, but you could never catch a time when his door wasn't attentively locked.

Were you ugly? Was your smile too tense? Weren't you easy on the eyes? Didn't he want to see you too?

Every time you questioned yourself, it made you hot with anger. Can he see how fucking hopeless it made you to live without him? How crazy you became just at the idea of him? You started to suspect that he'd been depriving you of his presence on purpose.

He liked it—loved it, actually, to see you wallow and sulk around like a lost puppy. It was a test; you were sure of it. A test to see if you needed him as severely as you said you did.

After a whole day of working at your customer service job, you became especially riled up. You passed by his door as you did daily, but this time you stopped. Hector continued to stay hidden in the confinements of his home. Shifting your feet, you placed yourself directly in front of what now looked like the gates of heaven to you. You let one gentle fist raise as you contemplated the idea of giving his door a knock. Would he answer? What would you say if he did? I love you?

You eventually gave up and trailed back home, still yearning for just one interaction.

As you lay awake in your bed that night, you recounted that same series of questions you were forced to ask with no answer to follow. As you stirred in your anger, you slowly let your hand trail down to the waistband of your shorts. You teased yourself, pretending as if Hector was the one controlling the pace. Once you eventually let your hand enter your pants, you danced around the fold of your lips, gently dipping your fingers in and out, not yet probing yourself as you continued with your odd fantasy.

"Please, Hector. Let me feel you." You shuttered.

You hoped for a second that he'd manifest from the darkness of your apartment to take care of you. You wished so badly that he'd sense your pain and ease you with a pleasure only he could provide. If only he'd take control.

What did he smell like? What were his hobbies? Did he think you were pretty? What would he say as he fucked you? Would he be sweet or controlling? Honestly, just getting to know what he felt like would've been a gift alone. Was it bigger in width or length? Did his erection have a curve? What made him hard? What did he prefer in a partner? It didn't matter. You could become anything he wanted you to be at the drop of a hat. You'd do anything.

You eventually became so bothered that you lost control and began penetrating yourself. With two filthy fingers, you found yourself stretched around your digits as you continued to call out for Hector.

That is, until you heard his voice.

It was soft but close enough that you heard exactly what he said.

Your name in a soft whimper.

You thought for a second that you might've been mistaken, considering how close it was. It sounded crystal clear, like he was in the room with you. You put your masturbation on pause as you contemplated your sanity. Were you so pent up with lust that you started to have audible hallucinations?

Then came a soft exhale. It was crisp, not like the muffled quality you were so used to. In fact, you had half a mind to believe it came from under you. In all honesty, if Hector really were under your bed, you would jump for fucking joy. Just the idea made you shiver with delight. So, for fun, you decided to take a look.

You gathered yourself out of bed and bent under to take a peak. Aside from the occasional dust bunnies, the space under your bed was usually clear. On any night, you could look under and see the moonlight reflect off the floor across the other side. However, there was now a black mass in place of the empty space. It took your eyes a second to not only adjust but comprehend what was in front of you. When you eventually did, you were met with the awkward face of,

Hector.

His eyes were wide like a deer in headlights, frozen in place, waiting for your reaction.

You took a short breath, letting your body fall back in disbelief.

He took this as disgust and immediately fumbled awkwardly from under your bed.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll leave. I'm leaving now." He couldn't even look at you as he rambled on, apologizing profusely as he scrambled to fix himself.

He was touching himself. Not just anywhere, but under your bed. It was perverted, disgusting, horrific even. But above all things, it was filthy.

And it was your type.

Just as Hector was about to rush out of your room, you grabbed hold of the cuff of his jeans. It made him trip slightly, but it also got his attention. He looked back at you, angling his head downward to meet your eyes. He'd been so quick with his attempted exit that you hadn't really gotten a chance to look at him. Now that he was out from under the shadows of your bed, you could take in his appearance, just as you did the first day you met him.

His face was flushed, presumably with embarrassment. He looked at you like he was about to pass out. This was accompanied by his ragged breath and shaky legs. It was cute, just as you knew he would be.

"Why are you rushing to leave?" You pleaded.

You'd finally gotten what you had wished for: mutual attraction. Which is what you also assumed he'd hoped for. So you couldn't understand why he would even fathom leaving you again.

"Don't you want me to?" He squeaked.

You furrowed your brows in confusion.

"Did I say that? Come on, don't do this to me, Hector." You begged. It was slightly pathetic, but you were shamelessly desperate, and not an ounce of you could care less.

He raised his eyebrows, obviously surprised. You continued to look up at him, waiting for him to do anything. Letting go of his cuff, you watched the gears seemingly turn in his head. He looked at the exposed window in your room for a breath and then shuffled his feet to face you. You almost lost your breath as he squatted down to your level, his face now inches from yours. You felt your jaw falter as you became lost in his appearance. His mustache was fuller than before, as were his eyebrows. His brown skin was glossed with sweat that you knew would taste just as delicious as it smelled. One more second, and you would've taken your tongue to lick up the sweetness that seeped from his flesh.

He turned away from you with the same pouty lips he had in the hallway.

"Please, don't stare at me. I can't tell if you're disappointed or not." He mumbled.

His voice was meek. You could tell he wasn't much of a stand-up guy, given how hesitant he was in front of you. Was this the test? Was he behaving like this to see if you really were desperate? You finally had him, or would eventually have him. Not only that, but he presented himself to you. How sweet was he to not only return your affection but to stay.

"Disappointed?" You hurriedly closed the gap between you. With one swift motion, you took your tongue and slid it across his shut lips.

This was your way of giving your beloved consent, not that you felt he needed it. If he wanted you, he could've had you.

You leaned away for a moment to catch a glimpse of his reaction. He fell back, unable to handle his weight after your cheeky taste. He then lifted a shaky hand to cover his now immensely flustered expression.

"I've seen you already, haven't I? Hector. Valentino. Airnesto. Condicionado." You made sure to emphasize how well-known he was to you. How much care you had put into getting to know him with what little material he'd given you.

"If I was disappointed, would I be so eager to fuck you?" You leaned back into Hector's bubble, letting your hot whispers caress his slick neck.

You felt him shift under you with one nervous whimper. The faint light from the lamp on your bedside reflected off his sticky neck. Just one more inch and your teeth would collide into his sweet skin, finally getting to know what he tasted like.

"Ah, you, uh, know my full name." He sighed, his voice trembling with every word.

"Is that bad?" You replied without a beat, taking a moment to look at him from under his chin.

He fumbled over his words, taking quick looks at you before averting his eyes with growing embarrassment.

"No. It's just, well." You knew he had more to add to that thought; however, you became too impulsive at the moment.

Letting your greedy mouth take control, you began to suck at the side of Hector's neck. With every suckle, you listened as he attempted to put his thoughts into words rather than gibberish.

"God, I can't, my love, when you, please..." He tried to push you off with one weak hand to no avail.

He tasted rather salty in a way that made sense to you. It was gritty, rich, and a bit sour. Overall, it wasn't a bad taste by any means.

"I can't, I can't meet you like this." He whined.

"I'm sorry for being so desperate. Fuck!" He let out a tiny yelp once you added your teeth.

Once you had finished sucking, you unlatched your teeth from his neck. You looked at the spot you'd been working on to find a dark, purplish hickey in its place. A disgusting grin spread across your lips as you admired your creation.

As if you'd sucked out all of his energy from one kiss, he fell back now with his body entirely on the floor and under you. Seeing him sprawled out on your floor was practically a dream come true. What would you do with him first? Get to know him or get straight to business?

"This isn't how it was supposed to go!" Hector whined again, his body trembling as he attempted to slide out from under you.

"I was supposed to take you out first, get to know you, make your night. I was supposed to court you like a gentleman!" He haphazardly cupped one side of his face with one hand as he moved up.

You countered his attempts by stepping over him with every shuffle backward.

"Please, my love. I can't have you like this." He pleaded with you.

"You're a hypocrite, you know that, Hector?" You chuckled.

"You need to court me? Be a gentleman? Do gentlemen hide under the beds of the people they plan to pursue?"

He'd crawled out to the middle of your living room, making no progress in the sheepish attempt to escape from under you.

"I'm sorry, I truly meant to be patient, but after countless nights of hearing you moan my name, it was hard to stay forbearing." He finally looked up at you, meeting your eyes with a sulking expression.

"I don't need your apologies. Neither do I need you to woo me properly." You knelt your head back down to meet him almost at his lips.

"Wanna know the best way to win me over?" You snarled with bated breath.

Hector eagerly nodded his head.

"With every ounce of my being." He whispered back at you.

You cut the remaining inch between you and planted a gentle kiss on his warm yet dry lips.

"Fuck me." It was rather forward, but there was no other way to say it. You needed him.

He followed your lips as they left his, yearning to meet them again in the middle.

"Ok, I can, I can do that for you." He mumbled, returning the kiss with a more hastened attitude.

You found a comfortable spot on his lap as you finally laid your body onto Hector. With the way that you were positioned, you could feel the outline of his hard-on prodding at your pussy through the fabric of both his and your pants. It was wonderful—this moment of intimacy you could finally behold. You were on top of your cherished next-door neighbor, and kissing him at that.

After a minute of tender kisses, Hector let his hands finally touch you. Your whole body shivered as they began to roam across whatever exposed skin you had. He started at your shoulders, and soon his fingers traced down your arms, then to your back, where he rolled up the bottom of your loose tank to travel up your spine. You had planned to take advantage of the position you were both in by exploring every inch of Hector's skin, but he kept you low to him while slowly working towards eliminating your tank top. You let a series of small moans spill from your lips into the kiss. You felt his lips curl into a cheeky smile before you had to break the contact to finally remove your top.

"Contain yourself, my love. We haven't even started." Hector chuckled, still slightly awkward, but he was beginning to become more charming nonetheless.

Your chest was now exposed to him, given that you weren't ever wearing a bra. He tried to take a good look to marvel at the shape, but soon he became preoccupied again with marrying his lips against yours. So, he left it up to his hands to get to know every inch of them. He fondled your breasts with such a gentle touch that it was almost as if he believed they would shatter if he were to apply any more pressure.

You broke the kiss, which earned you some complaints in the form of whimpers from Hector. While it was cute, you paid no mind to it. Instead, you became concerned with something else: the skin under his shirt. He kept his warm hands on your breasts, groping and pinching at the tips of your nipples while you slid your hands under his top. Your fingers slowly started to become acquainted with the details of his exterior. This was, however, a challenging feat to accomplish because, with every pinch Hector gave your nipples, you tensed up with unfathomable pleasure. You felt your arms stall at his chest hair as you tried to twirl the hairs between your fingers to no avail. You didn't think you would ever be this sensitive, but soon you found yourself trembling from his comforting touch.

"Something wrong?" He cooed.

You could only whimper in response, which was pleasantly pathetic. The palms of his now increasingly hot hands slid off your delicate chest, down the sides of your quivering torso, finally finding themselves at the waistband of your shorts. With one sly finger, he tugged at the fabric, watching—waiting for your reaction.

You didn't realize it, but you'd closed your eyes shut, and it didn't occur to you until you had felt the sensation of his fingers creeping into your pants. You looked at him with eager eyes that he read immediately. Sitting up, Hector shifted his arms to cradle you as he turned the tables on you. You soon found yourself in the position he was in just a moment ago, under you. Your bare back lightly hit the cold floor, and once you were settled, he began to remove not only your shorts but your underwear as well. It was apparent that he was just as anxious to get what he'd wanted, just as you were.

"I do want to apologize for my growing absence, my beauty." He was practically salivating as he knelt down to face the entrance of your aching core.

You tried to keep a keen eye on Hector by elevating your body with your elbows, but you became so nervous that your head fell back, leaving everything he did as a surprise.

He parted your folds with two fingers and began to practically talk into your entrance.

"It was, embarrassing, to even consider showing my face after our premature meeting."

His hot breath played with the sticky skin of your cunt. With every flattering word that hit your filthy flesh, you grew more flushed and impatient. He was just as desirous but enjoyed watching you yearn for whatever—however he planned to please you. He was certainly at your service, but he planned to take his time just relishing in this newfound intimacy. He toyed with the idea of making you beg, but his lust was already unbearable. Besides, he couldn't fathom the thought of your sad puppy dog eyes as you whined for his touch. He didn't need the confirmation. Hector already knew how badly your body craved his. After all, he'd spent nights listening to your desperate yet soft cries of delectation. He couldn't bear to listen to them any longer.

With his searing tongue, Hector began to indulge in your flesh. You both had more to say to each other, but with the growing tension in the air, neither of you could take it. So straight to business it was.

Pleasure took control of you in the form of various sounds and twitches. Your hands attempted to grasp at the solid floor while your toes curled over themselves. As Hector sampled every inch of your cunt, he took one of your legs and put it onto his shoulder. He couldn't determine if he wanted to savor your reaction or taste. For the most part, it was both. While he worshipped you with his tongue, he made sure to revel in every whimper, every moan, and every grunt that made its way from your mouth. It was his work, after all.

Soon, Hector snuck a thick digit into you, which made you yelp in shock. He chuckled while keeping his warm mouth on you. The feeling of his one finger was surprisingly different from your two fingers. Maybe it was because you weren't the one controlling the pace or the pressure. However, giving it some more thought, it was odd. He used his finger as if he were more concerned with finding a specific spot. It soon became frustrating the more he continued.

You finally let your head fall forward to look down at Hector. Once your eyes hit him, you were met with a pair of cunning yet awkward eyes staring back at you. He took his mouth off your clit just enough for you to hear him talk yet also just enough for you to feel the heat of every word.

"Unsatisfying, right?" He snickered.

You furrowed your brow at him, making him laugh harder. He was playing with you, but you couldn't determine his purpose. Frankly, he was fascinated by how you needed him so badly. To say he was aware of your obsession with him would be a significant understatement. The first time he'd heard his own name whimpered through the thin wall of his apartment, he wanted to—well, he didn't really know what he wanted to do. He never thought you would actually take a liking to him ever.

Truth be told, he was the one who liked you first. The day you knocked on his door to introduce yourself after you had moved in, he never answered. But he watched you through the peephole, too nervous to open the door. He saw your sweet, confused face as you left and vowed that one day, he'd work up the courage to ask you out. The only problem for him was his "plain face" and "ugly features". So he kept you waiting for a day when that courage came. If it weren't for how desperate he was to be near you, you would've never seen him again.

"Alright, I'll do it properly." He promised, and soon, his lips found themselves latched onto your now puffy clit while his finger pumped in and out of you at a tantalizing pace.

Once he added a second finger in the mix, it was over. You felt the heat in you boil up as you grew closer and closer to your peak. The way his tongue was shockingly attentive made you eerily jealous. How was he so good? Why was he so good? Was he with others before you? How much practice had he had?

"How are you so good-!" Your growing anger was cut off by pleasure boiling over.

He made you cum. Quicker than you could've ever managed by yourself. It was slightly embarrassing how fast he drew that out of you, but then that shame morphed into agitation as he kept going.

"I came! You can stop, please!" You whined, giving him a tiny slap on the head.

He let out a small grunt but never let up. He helped you ride out your orgasm and then some. You became dizzy and frustrated by the constant feeling of lips licking and lapping at you like a lollipop. Your whines became louder, and the pumping of his fingers grew faster. It wasn't long before he sucked another orgasm out of you. Your body fell back onto the ground as you shivered with overwhelming delight. You almost felt tears collect in the corners of your eyes. It was too much. Thankfully, he finally had his fill after you came a second time.

He crawled up away from your cunt and back up to your rosy face with delicate eyes.

"I'm sorry. It's just that, the way you taste is heavenly. I felt increasingly like a ravenous dog as I ate from your sweet, sweet skin, my love." He shuttered a bit as he whispered close to your face.

You could smell yourself on his breath. It was, enthralling, to say the least. You both stared at each other for a minute, taking in the different details that made up the other person. Hector's eyes practically glowed in the darkness of your living room. He was in love, and it was plastered all over his pussy drunken face. You must've made a particularly needy face because suddenly, he leaned back and began to unbutton his pants. You scooted from under him and sat up, watching as he messed with his pants. It was funny; he was fumbling to button up his jeans just a moment ago. Now, here he was, desperate to do the opposite.

"Do you need me to tie my hair up?" You asked.

He froze and peered up at you in confusion.

"What, what do you mean?"

You froze yourself.

"What do you mean what do I mean?" You questioned. "Don't you want me to suck you off?"

"Oh. Hardly." He remarked like it was the most casual thing you could've asked.

He continued to undo the zipper of his jeans as you sat there in puzzlement.

"...Why?" You finally managed to say.

"Do you think I've been blue balling myself just to finally get a blow job? I'm sure your mouth would be something else, but I've waited too long, my love."

Without a second more, Hector pulled his already erect cock out from his jeans. Finally, you could have multiple answers to the plethora of questions you'd asked yourself plenty of nights. It was just slightly bigger in width than length. The size was quite normal but big enough to where you knew it'd hit all corners. He was also circumcised, and no, he did not have a curved erection.

You stared at his penis for longer than you should've. It was as if you'd found the correct puzzle piece, and now the picture would finally come together.

"And I'm sure you've waited too long, too, no?" He purred before scooting your body closer to his.

Your ass made an embarrassingly loud squeak as it slid across the floor. However, neither of you paid any mind because soon, Hector would be inside of you.

You let your body fall to the floor again as he lined his cock up to the entrance of your slick cunt. Slowly, he began to press it into you while holding your hips. This, of course, drew out a variety of different whimpers and whines. It wasn't entirely painful, but it was vastly different in comparison to just your two fingers. Once he bottomed you out, he looked at you and never let his eyes leave you again. You gazed back at him with a drunken expression and mopey lips. He smiled at you. It wasn't a malicious grin but a smile that matched the same tenderness that had run through him since the beginning. He began to pump in and out of you, watching the dissimilar faces that your features contorted into.

"You have a lovely face when you cum." He whimpered with a very meek voice.

You tried to remark with something but were too lost in the embrace of Hector to even think of what you'd say. This is how it went for the next five minutes. He would feed you sweet nothings, possibly fishing for a slurred yet coherent response, only to be met with a series of loud whines and gibberish. Through the sounds of slaps and your own enjoyment, you could hear Hector's voice begin to crack with every other sentence. Almost as if he was about to finish.

"Did you want to try a different position, my love? Or-!" Before he could conclude whatever he meant to say, he came.

It was fast. Quicker than you thought sex with Hector would be like. You felt his hot semen flood into you as he grunted and whimpered, tightening his grip on your hips as he whined the words, "I'm sorry!"

You watched as he averted his eyes from you with a guilty expression. Shivering, you propped yourself up and out of his lap with your hands. His penis slid out of you as you moved, and soon you felt his sperm do the same. You placed a gentle but shaky hand on his cheek, guiding his face back to yours. The remaining arm holding you up felt like jello. He'd somehow drained every bit of you. If he had came too fast this time, you didn't even want to imagine what sex would be like on his good days. His eyes found your face again, and he placed his now sticky hand atop yours. Another lovely smile painted itself across his lips, and like a disease, his visual delight spread to you. A grin likewise of the same loveliness soon laid itself on your face.

Nothing was said at that moment. The silence between the both of you was enough to say what needed to be said.

"I love you."

Well, maybe a couple of words needed to be spoken.

Regardless of the timing and the duration of what happened between you. It was still bound to be the start of a rather eccentric relationship. You were made for each other, and nothing would be better.

"I love you, too."

End Notes: I was originally going to include a plethora of things. Hector was actually going to drill a hole in your wall, but I didn't know how I'd make that work. I was also going to have you and Hector go a second round, but again, I'm unmedicated, and if I randomly go to TikTok instead of finishing my fanfiction again, I WILL kill myself. ALSOOO i want this blog to be filled with hector for a month so PLEASE if you want anything hector REQUEST IT!

[lovethegenuine]

Masterlist! ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⊹　₊

Joel Miller

Heaven Personified (no outbreak!Joel)

You're a newly graduated twenty-two year old that's recently just hauled ass down to southern Louisiana after your sister helped earn you a job offer for the local elementary while you live under her roof. However, the local lone wolf that works for your sister on her ranch and is especially cold towards you for some mysterious reason and you're determined to find out why.

Part 1

One shots for Heaven Personified AU

Coming soon!

Hector Valentino Airnesto Condicionado

One shots!

Cut From the Same Cloth (stalker/human!hector)

An alternate reality where you've taken up stalking your next-door neighbor, Hector, only to find out he has the same sick and filthy obsession for you.

Protagonist (No, I'm Not a Human)

The Girl by the Door (semi-canon!protagonist)

You're back in your home country, Russia, in 2002, for certain circumstances. As you adapt to your new life, you'll find that this new year has a lot more in store for you than you're prepared for.

Part 1

[lovethegenuine]

Heaven Personified.

Chapter One: Uneventful Beginnings.

Pairing: no outbreak/widower!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: You're a newly graduated twenty-two year old that's recently just hauled ass down to southern Louisiana after your sister helped earn you a job offer for the local elementary while you live under her roof. However, the local lone wolf that works for your sister on her ranch and is especially cold towards you for some mysterious reason and you're determined to find out why.

Warnings: +18 (as always) Only thing that really needs a warning as of right now is that there's a twenty two year age gap. Eventual smut is on the way, however!

Notes: mmmmm joel imagery im so horny??? who said that.

Word count: 2.6k

Additional notes: Here's the playlist that goes along with this series! Enjoy :)

Being a brand new college graduate isn't the easiest thing to be when you're an adult. You learned this yourself when you earned your bachelor's degree in English.

You attended college up in Massachusetts near your hometown, where your parents supported you while achieving higher education. However, throughout your time in college, you felt a yearning within yourself grow. It was a distinct emotion you knew was brought on by the desire to escape. You never did enjoy your boring life at home. When your older sister eloped with her wife, you were left alone to live with your parents. Don't get it wrong, you loved your parents, but they weren't the liveliest pair of people. This only became more apparent after you graduated.

After a year of boring nights and odd jobs that weren't even close to your major, your sister called. You'd just gotten home after an uneventful shift at your local grocery store and had almost attempted to ditch the uniform when your ringtone ran out through your quiet home. Your parents had already gone to bed, so you quickly answered just to shut your phone up.

"Hello?" A familiar voice entered your ears as you dropped your keys on the coffee table in the living room.

It wasn't unorthodox for your older sister to call you out of the blue. Even after she'd been gone for nearly seven years, you both still had a good relationship. Sometimes she'd visit, but she preferred not to, given your parents' opinion on her marriage.

"Hey old bastard, what's up?" You responded with a certain sarcastic whimsy that had been carried all throughout your years of being siblings.

"I'll literally make you eat shit if you call me old again." She returned the energy with a flippant threat and a giggle.

After some small chatter about life and the health of your parents, she shot an offer your way, one that made you light up with a curious glow.

"Ah, so, I got an offer for you. They're short-staffed at the elementary here, and I know you've been struggling in the job market, so I told them you'd be perfect for the job as an English teacher."

"So, I'd be, like, a nepo baby?" You remarked.

"Not necessarily, well, listen. You can come live with me and the wife while you work and see if it's a match. I know it's not like you'd prefer it up there with the real old bastards." She was right.

However, the prospect of living down in the rural south sounded like hell. The bugs, the heat, the smell. In that moment, it didn't seem worth it for a job in your field. Before you could even think about a way you'd reject her offer, she spoke up again.

"And, I miss you." The genuine sincerity in your sister's voice made you fold instantly.

You suddenly found yourself putting in your two weeks and packing your things, hauling them into your sister's car. She'd graciously driven all the way out, back to your hometown after over twenty-nine hours and a night at a hotel just to transport you back to her state. If that didn't show how much she loved you, it's uncertain what would've.

"Any, uh, luck in the dating scene?" Your sister asked, her eyes never leaving the road.

You both were on the last leg of the trip, and this was her attempt at not only keeping you awake but also scoping out any personal details you neglected to tell her.

"You know I would've told you already." This was a genuine statement, as you seldom hid stuff from your sister.

Your eyes fluttered as you struggled to stay awake. Both of you booked a hotel in Kentucky for the night, but you didn't get much sleep with how anxious you were. New opportunities made you anxious. You didn't like the idea of starting off fresh, and while you'd done countless training sessions for becoming a teacher, those were all controlled scenarios. You'd now be put to the test with little to no help.

You instinctively frowned as your eyes closed completely while your body sank into the passenger seat. Before your sister could question your grievances, you fell asleep and dreamt up something quite odd.

Visions of various events flashed through your mind as your physical body relaxed into a peaceful state. Most of what you dreamt was anxiety ridden and made no sense, to no surprise. At some point, however, the setting of the dream started to become more stable. You didn't exactly remember how this section of the dream started, but when you looked down, you noticed a long glimmering fabric hugging your body. You were now wearing a dress—a shiny pink one. One that most little girls dream of wearing one day. The details of the dress were dulled from the dream, like how most clothes look when generated from AI, but you didn't feel the need to care. You then angled your head up, noticing how the room morphed into a ballroom balcony. A faint tap on your shoulder alerted you, provoking you to then turn around.

"What a beauty." A soft voice bellowed from the wavering figure in a black tuxedo. Their face was blacked out, or it was possible that you just couldn't remember their features.

Behind them, you could see open doors that led back to a glorious ballroom. The figure shifted closer to you, successfully blocking your view of the room.

"Focus on me, please." They pleaded gently. It wasn't a familiar voice at all, and before you could rack your brain for the real-life source, they spoke again.

"We're almost here." This time, the voice became more distorted as they kept repeating that same sentence.

You awoke rapidly in the passenger seat and bore a confused face as you yelped, "I'm awake!" Which sounded more like a question than an assertion.

"Woah, I'm sure you are, kiddo!" Your sister giggled as she used a gentle hand to guide your body back into your seat.

You let out a groggy sigh as your body relaxed again while your eyes shifted to the passenger side window. You were finally in the countryside, which wasn't exactly your lifelong goal, but it was ten times better than fishy Cape Cod or Nantucket—or maybe it wasn't. You were sure about to find out.

Flashes of green grass, lazy pastures, and quaint homes passed by your eyes as you visualized what your new life would be like. Tranquil? You'd be dealing with kids all day. Clean? Your sister works on a farm. Quiet? That's something you could definitely look forward to on your days off.

"Oh, maybe on your days off, you could help out with the livestock?"

Nevermind.

At least you had your sister, who spoiled you and took care of you for the majority of your life. That's something you knew you'd always look forward to.

"You don't have to, though, so don't feel pressured! I just am always working, and maybe it'd be a good way to bond." Your sister had a sheepish-looking smile when she tried to take back the offer. You could tell she felt a little guilty for that suggestion.

"Well, how else will I earn my keep?" You reassured her.

The tense grip she had on the wheel relaxed, as well as her entire body. Truthfully, it had been a while since you both hung out, not over the phone, so she was trying not to bore you with her lifestyle.

Your eyes glanced to the front of the road as you noticed a lovely ranch in the distance. Taking a small look at the porch, you noticed a cushioned bench, along with tons of different potted plants. It was pretty, not to mention just well-maintained overall.

"Is that yours?" You questioned while pointing to the home.

"That would be it, yes." Your sister affirmed softly.

The car continued to roll down the road until it hit the driveway. Its tires slid across the gravel before coming to a complete stop.

"I believe the wife isn't home, so why don't I give you a tour of the house before we unpack the car?" Your sister suggested while putting the car in park.

You nodded your head in agreement as you began to unbuckle yourself.

"I also think Joel is working on the farm, tending to the horses today too, so you'll be able to meet him."

Your eyebrows instinctively furrowed as you froze before you opened the passenger side door.

Am I just supposed to know who Joel is? You thought to yourself as you angled your head towards your sister, who was already out of the car and headed to your side.

Your eyes continued to follow her as you exited the car as well. Her gentle smile faded as she furrowed her brows as well out of confusion.

"What?" She bluntly questioned, looking around awkwardly.

"Joel?" You remarked, insinuating your puzzlement.

"Oh! Sorry. That's my coworker, or, technically, my employee. He's worked with me since he moved here. Not much of the chatty type, but his work ethic is good." Your sister shrugged as she then waved her hand, signaling you to follow her.

Her house was what you'd expect any ranch to feel like. Open, warm, and comforting. You could tell which interior choices were from the influence of your sister versus her wife. Your sister had always been the rustic type, while her wife was a green thumb. There was a buck deer head mounted on the wall with two horseshoes on either side. It was masculine, much like your sister. On the other hand, the living room floor was lined with an Aztec print rug that fit perfectly under their coffee table, which housed at least three different house plants.

You were able to see the couple's differences in interior decoration displayed in various rooms as your sister showed you around. However, it was refreshing to see how they complemented each other. It made you jealous, and you weren't exactly thrilled at whatever third-wheel shenanigans you'd be put into. Nevertheless, you were happy to finally live with your sister, so you knew any qualms would be worth your while.

You and your sister finally neared the end of her house tour as she led you to the back deck. It was beautifully decorated, and the view was even more stunning. You could see everything from there, like the chicken coop, the cornfield, and the cattle. What was most noticeable to you was the horse stables, specifically the person standing with his back to both of you near the stables.

Your sister was busy showcasing all of the different buildings that were littered around her farm, until her eyes fell on the man as well.

"Oh shit, that's him!" Your sister exclaimed, and without a beat, she called him over.

"Joel!" She shouted with a certain excitement that was tangible to you and presumably the man she'd called out to.

He turned only half of his back to face you and your sister, but that was more than enough. His rugged face was the first thing you noticed. The years that passed by in his life definitely took plenty of time aging him just right. This was apparent by the stern fine lines that had carved themselves into his face. You could tell he'd displayed every emotion one could ever have. In other words, it was easy to gauge his experience through his face. He gave you a stare that you could tell wasn't out of malice, but to make his acute awareness distinguishable. He was taking you in just as you were him. Maybe not in the way you were drinking his appearance like water, but he was reading you nonetheless.

His sleeves were rolled up halfway, exposing the arm hair that hugged his tan skin. His muscles were ever so slightly defined by the casual button-up that was soaked from the sweat that glazed his body. You'd never been the type to gawk at men, especially those twice your age. However, in that moment, you felt rabid. Like you'd been starved all your life, and this man was the only meal that could satiate your hunger. You wanted to kiss the scar that ran slightly under the radix of his nose, to run your fingers through his hair, to caress his scruffy beard. You wanted to take him in physically and also mentally.

Your face felt like it was going to melt as he smiled at your sister. Whether it was more of an appeasement grin or a genuine smile, you couldn't tell. You were just happy to know how his lips looked when curled. You felt a smile of your own creep up on your face, and he began walking up to your sister and you.

"You never told me he was hot." You panicked through your teeth.

"Excuse me?" Your sister yelped while turning to you, appalled.

"Oh, right. You're gay." You shot back without hesitation.

Before your sister could become any more offended, Joel had made his way to you both and spoke.

"Glad to see you back so early. Is that the little sister?" He asked while gently pointing to you.

His voice was low and slightly rough. It's what you'd expect any older man's voice to sound like, but that didn't take away from his charm. He also had an accent, but you couldn't decipher where it was from. Possibly Texas, or maybe Tennessee. Regardless of the location, you still loved it. Maybe a bit too much.

Your sister confirmed his observation and gave him your name. You would have preferred to give him your name yourself and felt a tad moody at the loss of an interaction, but when he turned to you again and repeated your name back to you, it made you go blank. Not to mention the fact that he gave you a grin while taking your hand to shake. It's like he knew what he was doing to you.

He didn't actually. You knew it was formalities, but for the time being, you'd like to believe that he was subtly trying to court you.

You naturally returned his greeting with a sweet face as your sister spoke up.

"Yup. She's gonna be one of the new teachers down at the elementary." She announced proudly while looking honored to be your sibling.

However, upon hearing your new line of work, Joel dropped your hand and his smile. If you hadn't been so enthralled with him, you might not have even noticed his slight shift in behavior, but you did.

"Oh." He flatly remarked while putting his head down while giving you both a now strained smile.

Your sister was about to start bragging about you again until Joel cut her off.

"I really have to get back to my work. Mind if we do this another time?" It was unconvincing to you, but you knew your sister wouldn't push it, and she didn't.

You both watched as he trudged back to his work, leaving both you and her confused.

"Well, I guess that just proves what I said." She shrugged as she waltzed back into the house, leaving you to gaze longingly at Joel, wondering what had changed.

You sighed, a little disappointed that your first encounter was awkward. Especially since you wanted to make a good impression. You eventually left to join your sister inside, but you knew you'd not only be thinking about that interaction, but Joel overall would be stuck on your mind all day.

And that's something you worried about.

[lovethegenuine]

Heaven Personified.

Pairing: no outbreak/widower!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Synopsis: You're a newly graduated twenty-two year old that's recently just hauled ass down to southern Louisiana after your sister helped earn you a job offer for the local elementary while you live under her roof. However, the local lone wolf that works for your sister on her ranch and is especially cold towards you for some mysterious reason. Is romance in the air or is it just the smell of cow shit?

Warning: 18+ (As always) around 20 year age gap (you're 22, he's like 46), oral sex both ways, drunk sex, inexperienced reader, possible daddy kink? more like daddy issues on joel's part, child/spouse loss (this will be sad YES there will be angst)

Notes: I have no idea how many chapters this will have HOWEVER, while this will be kind of a slow burn (cons of pwp) I definitely plan on writing oneshots for this series. As a final word, while I do have alot prewritten, some things will be subject to change! (as in like, adding warnings/subtracting warnings)

First chapter is up now! Chapter one