Kyle Gallner - Tumblr Posts
I’m not even a charli xcx fan but I felt compelled to make this
since i’m starting to post hcs about the passenger, here’s a little intro to the characters!
the main character is randy bradley!! he’s a very quiet, neurotic, and scared man. he’s around 19-22 years old. he’s bullied by people at work and has an overprotective mother who doesn’t leave him alone. he has trauma from his past, especially from an incident in school, that shapes him into who he is. (a gif of him is underneath this)
the second main character is benson! he’s randy’s coworker at the restaurant ‘burgers burgers burgers.’ he’s somewhere between his mid-20s and late-30s (some people say he’s older, some say he’s younger.) he lives with his mom who he has a strained relationship with. he is quite an angry man due to his past and tries to gain some control back in life by taking out his feelings on others. he truly cares for randy but shows it in a very fucked up way. (a gif of him is underneath this)
this is the two of them together!!
randy constantly asks questions to the point that benson has to genuinely tell him to be quiet from time to time.
he used to do it when they worked with one another. he’d ask if he was doing things right, if he could have help with a task, if he could swap places with someone. now that him and benson are on the run together, it’s only gotten worse.
his memory is horrible, especially when he’s anxious, so he says the same things over and over, meaning that benson has to answer him over and over.
when they stop at motels, randy asks if they’ll call the police, if they have bed bugs, and if they’re safe. when they park at gas stations to sleep, he barely rests because he’s constantly wondering if they’ll get towed or get asked to leave. when they’re on the road and randy starts worrying about dumb things, benson just turns up the radio.
listen… he loves randy, he truly does, but he cannot deal with nonstop concern. one time he got mad and compared randy to randy’s mom with her constant honing and panicking. safe to say, they didn’t speak for the rest of the day until benson apologized.
hostage
you hold it, you hold it, you let it go
Would love to see some content for Simon from Dinner in America or Colin Gray, you’re more than welcome to pick the subject matter, preferably female reader
｡ﾟ･ ୨୧ . i owe you a black eye and two kisses.
⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - oh, how he's missed his girl during his time away.
⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - simon / john q x fem!reader
✶ c.w. - nsfw freaky deaky time!! hard?dom simon, sub!reader, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP.), p in v, car sex (in a volkswagen beetle...), public sex, STOMACH BULGE!!! facial, throat fucking-ish, degradation—but also praise, cowgirl position, overstimulation, hair pulling, very cutesy fic... (let me know if i missed anything!)
⊹₊ ⋆ note - back from the dead (laziness) and kicking it!! i hope i did this request justice as i haven’t written in so long… WHOOPS. its been literally ages since i wrote smut so i apologize if i’m rusty as hell doing this… PLEASE FORGIVE ME. anywho… LUSTKILLERS IS SO BACK BABY 🙂↕️
requests are open! <3
THE night was cold and you couldn't be more bored out of your mind. the windows of your red volkswagen beetle were down, the distinguished smell of the car gas filling the air around you. your leg bounced, the keys that consisted of plenty of keychain accessories clinking against each other, and your eyes traced over the rusty, tall fence that you probably counted all the diamond-shaped holes between each steel bar. how long have you been here? an hour? hour too early?
at the rate of biting at your own cheek unconsciously, there was probably a dent that was left inside your cheek from how much you've bit down on it. turning your palms over was a nightmare; your hands glistening with sweat from anticipation. you wanted to look the best. you wanted everything to be perfect.
you couldn't even remember how he ended up here; maybe you blocked it out. slightly tragic on your end, watching as your boyfriend was cuffed and put into the back of a cop car, the last thing you experienced together was your fingers loosely holding a cigarette for him. that feeling left you empty... and a bit sexually frustrated, due to the fact that he had promised to fuck you real good after his performance.
a masculine silhouette stood at the goddamned fence that you loathed, your eyes shooting up at the whirring sound of the mechanical fence sliding to the right, leaving the figure to leave. you let go of the cigarettes that laid in the cupholder, your slippery hands moving to unlock your car.
with a frustrated yell, you quickly wiped your hands on the seats on your car, restoring the dryness that easily helped you unlock your god forsaken car. you opened the door, ducking under the slight top ledge that you've hit your head on plenty of times. you were giddy like a child receiving their gifts on their birthday– squealing as you shut the door behind you and stood in front of the driver's side door, bouncing on the tips of your toes, and a smile spread across your face.
simon had that stupid smirk on his face, scruff all over his face, and his hair slightly grown out from the last time you saw him. he also had the same clothes on from the last time, the green jacket and black pants with the boots. it felt like the first time all over again, and god, that outfit made your pussy throb, and your knees were moments away from bucking and landing onto the dirt ground.
"didn't i tell you to get rid of that goddamn car? looks stupid, the ladybug print and all." simon said gruffly, a slight smirk creeping onto the corners of with lips, his siren-like eyes peering down at you.
you looked up at him with a slight pout and doe eyes, "i think it looks cute." you mumbled in defense. his eyes gleamed with a predatory look on you. cute, he thought. but what left his lips was just a mere scoff, his smirk turning into a smile... which was still somehow intimidating if you think about it.
"looks like a kiddie car, that's what it looks like." he taunted, making you playfully roll your eyes.
you huff, "i'm gonna punch you in the face... leave a black eye while i'm at it." your voice taunting, yet not really sincere. he only chuckled in response, "c'mere." he moved towards you, his lips swinging down to kiss yours, kissing away the pout that now disappeared.
his rough, big hands wandered towards your ass, gripping it with no intent of letting go. simon's kisses were one of a man deprived of lust and yearning, and he wasn't planning to let your breathe for air. his hands roamed around your backside, his feet pushing you back towards the silly-looking car, his right hand pulling at the door handle, swinging the door open.
simon's eyes opened from the kiss, his frustration growing from the lack of the backdoors your car had. he let out a groan, his lips unlatching from yours, his jaw clenching as he softly moved you aside, bringing the drivers seat forward so you two could hop in the back. his pants strained against his bulge, and the whine that left your lips made it even worse.
"give me a moment doll, your car is pissing me off." he grumbled, watching his head as he hopped into the small car, with you behind him, closing the door. he was sitting with his legs spread, you in front of him with little to no space at all, on your knees, which were already feeling rough from the material of the bottom the car.
you and simon made no time to push down your pants, his hands unbuckling the shiny belt that clinked once it unfastened from his waist, and your hands helped slide them down, his thick, long cock springing free, and you could've sworn your eye twitched at the sight. with the way he looked down at you and the non-existent space you left between your face and his cock, the feeling between your thighs released itself like a flood; your thighs pressing together in instinct.
"god, if you don't hurry it up, i might take matters into my own hands." he groaned out, swallowing dryly as his hands gripped at your hair; making you squeak out a quick 'sorry,' and your tongue quickly laid flat against the side of his cock; a hiss escaping simon's pretty lips. "fuck," he groaned.
you worked your way around his cock, your head bobbing up and down, trying your best to keep eye-contact with him as you bobbed. spit drooled down the sides of your mouth; the liquid pooling at the base of his cock, slowly sliding down his strained balls; the sounds of his grunts and low groans filling the small car.
he felt your right hand shift towards your sopping pussy; mewls leaving your lips as you rubbed your clit, heightening your senses, but also making you focus less on working his cock. simon noticed it, his grip on your hair turning into a makeshift lever, the control reeling to him as he started to guide your head up and down, his cock spearing at the back of your throat, hitting past the uvula. the feeling made you gag, spluttering more spit around his cock, the sight being messy as ever. he pulled your head from his cock, your right hand leaving your clit in response, and as your lips left his cock, it making you gasp out in air; your eyes watering from the intense throat-fuck that was definitely going to leave you sore, along with your poor legs that were soon to fall victim to his fucking.
"si, give me a moment–" you squealed, making simon laugh as he pulled you up onto his lap, laughter leaving from both your lips. "tryna get me put in jail again, doll? fuckin' in front of the prison i just got out of?" he smirked, his forehead touching yours.
"not my fault, si– oh!" you hum in response, which quickly turned into a gasp– which finally turned into a moan, his cock knowingly filling your tight walls. his hips piston upwards, his cock hitting the deepest part of your cunt. his hands held at your hips, guiding you up and down on his cock, creating a white, creamy ring around the base.
the car windows immediately fogged up, heat and sweat glistening on both your bodies, the occasional cocky laugh simon let out settled into your ears, making you shiver. your hips worked at a sensual speed, grinding and bouncing, alternating between the two, moans spilling from your lips.
his lips shut your moans up for a bit, before pulling away and murmuring, "so pretty bouncing on my cock, like the slut you are." he smiled against your shoulder, placing a kiss against it as he looked at you, babbling and panting. "feel that?" he whispered, pressing down on the bulge his cock made in your stomach, immediately making you start to crumble.
you looked at him, your hips started to falter and grow slower, your legs tired and your thighs shaking as the pressure built up, waiting to burst out. but you tried to keep your pace going, your hands on his chest as you whimpered.
your lips tried to form a sentence, only letting out broken words. "c–cum... i needa– hmph!" you cry out, feeling the vibrations of simon's chuckle. "can i–?" you whimpered, moments away from crying in frustration.
his lips captured yours once again, making you come undone. you came around his cock, clenching as your thighs tried to close at the feeling; high-pitched moans leaving your lips as you were sent into a fruitful bliss. "haah–! t-thank you, si!" you sigh, your hips stuttering, still lazily grinding, praying to god that simon finds his release, or you'd probably lose it.
simon groaned, nearing his release as he fucks up into you, your overstimulated pussy weeping and soaking. "m'gonna cum," he exhaled, and at his words– he came, but he planned to cum on your face, his hands making quick–but safe work, one shot of cum shooting inside your cunt, and when you blink, you're already on your knees, hot spurts of his warm cum hitting your face, your eyes closing. he let out a hoarse breath, "that was fuckin' tits," he laughed, hunched over. his cock started to soften, his hands making quick work and grabbed the cigarette pack and paper towel that sat inside the cup holder. he ripped a piece of paper towel, wiping your face... decently clean, but it was the effort that counted.
your eyes fluttered open to look at him, a smirk on his face as a lit cigarette hung from his lips, his rough hands cupping your face and stroking his thumb across your fucked-out cheeks. "you're one of a kind, y'know that?" he let out a sigh, fixing your clothes back on you, and pulling you up to straddle him again sharing a kiss, which tasted like cigarettes, but you didn't mind. you never had a problem with him and he never had a problem with you. the world revolved around you both and nobody else. his eyes twinkled at the sight of your eyes, and his face softened.
"ditto." you whispered, smiling.
👁️🗨️😁⚰️ | ‘Smile (2022)’
Dir. Parker Finn
🎙️‘Devon hendryx - neon kitchen’
ib: Supremeculst
ARE YOU FLIRTING?
pairings — simon (dinner in america) x reader
warnings — swearing, simon may get a little mean idk yet, finally not an already established relationship, a little oblivious reader and a pretty blatant simon, tiny bit of projecting (just to say the reader likes riot grrl music), one mention of smoking (and a scene where they do smoke weed i’m sorry it’s a part of his character forgive me please)
summary — working at a record shop was supposed to be fun and relaxed, yet you (specifically you) have a regular customer who sometimes asks for recommendations and seems to have a staring problem.
notes — okay so hey… i watched dinner and america… this is my literal longest thing written sorry
i. the first time you met Simon
━━━━━━━ IT WAS QUIET, the silent hum of music flowing in from the vinyl player. it was connected to speakers, filling what would have been an unbearable silence, which would conjure a consistent ringing in your ears. you didn’t want that.
you were used to the dragging and seemingly endless Mondays at the record shop. most days did seem quiet, minus the days there would be some real shows of people who can’t sell physical copies and people who can’t sing. you hated it, but you loved working with music.
besides, who’d pass up being able to play whatever record they wanted through the entire store?
you wouldn’t.
flipping through a comic you grabbed from the dwindling comic section, the door rang. briefly looking up, a man walked through. he seemed pissed off, but clearly wasn’t mad at you.
you could see the top of his head at the punk rock section, and didn’t let your gaze linger. the comic - what one you chose, you didn’t seem to remember the title of - was somewhat capturing.
you didn’t like the female character, you didn’t like the male character either (you didn’t like any characters), but you had nothing better to do. if you had been in high school still, you’d probably be doing homework hunched over the front counter.
“excuse me?” you looked up, a police officer with his shiny badge was standing in front of you, and you could see the guy crouched on the floor. you’d never lied to an officer of the law, but everyone starts somewhere.
“hey; what’s up? we just got a new order of Metallica, if you’ve got somewhat good music taste.” you grinned. the officer didn’t, and your face fell again.
“i’m lookin’ for this man.” he slapped a flyer poster down, you looked at the page. Simon, whoever he was, was clearly in need of a haircut.
“so’s a haircut.” you scoffed, sliding it forwards and shaking your head, “sorry dude, no Simon’s here.” the officer glared at you and looked to a corner suddenly.
your eyes flashed to who you’d guess to be Simon, crouched behind a rack. hurriedly, you waved for him to lay flat. dropping your hair seconds before the officer saw, he gave you a hard nod and left.
opening the employees only entrance to behind the counter, it wasn’t hard to find him laying on the ground. “i’m guessing you’re Simon?” you hummed, standing over him with your arms crossed over your chest.
“who are you?” he spat. after a brief introduction, you walked away from him. sliding to the riot grrl section, your hands seemed to automatically find a Bikini Kill album. you grinned at walked back behind the counter.
you didn’t see Simon afterwards, he’d left out of the front entrance and walked somewhere. you were reading your comic again.
ii. second time meeting him, and he stays longer.
━━━━━━━ FRIDAYS, the only days that your manager opened the stage in the back of the building for live performances. typically it was packed, and you’d have to remove a few drunk teenagers and break up a few couples from having sex right then and there, but it seemed emptier than before.
you found out that quickly that you’d spoken too soon, as a flood of people came in and the back door bands used buzzed. you groaned internally - and externally - and opened the door. flashing your customer service smile, you pointed them to the back.
there was a small fluster of background noise after everyone went to the back and flooded that area.
you already missed your silence.
“hey, you the worker from Monday?” Simon, familiar in the second cluster of people, asked you when he separated from the hoard. you nodded, biting back a yawn and cracking your back when you finally stood up straight.
“not gonna go listen t’the band?” you slurred as you fought back a yawn again.
“nah, not yet. those assholes don’t know how to play.” Simon scoffed. you grinned tiredly.
“almost every band that plays here doesn’t know how to. i wish we sold alcohol here, i’d love to drink right now.” you hummed, tapping your hand against the table. “or coffee.” you muttered. the muttered phrase was meant for just you, but Simon seemed to have heard.
he didn’t say anything else, spinning around and walking to the back.
iii. meeting after rude customers
━━━━━━━ YOU DIDNT REALLY REMEMBER what day it was. but you were standing behind the same counter like before, as you did nearly every day of the week.
“excuse me?” the woman was blond, wearing high-heel stilettos and a short pink skirt and matching juicy couture top, “you sold my son this, and he is not allowed to listen to whatever soon-to-be-drug-dealer drugs you put in this music. i want a refund.” she annoyingly chewed her gum, loud nails clacking against her glasses when she went to readjust them.
“sorry ma’am, no refunds.” you huffed.
“that’s just… unacceptable! you have to give me a refund.” she exclaimed.
“dude, i literally can’t. im sorry but im not allowed to.” deadpanning her, your eyes - donning a bored look cast through her eyes - met her sunglasses. you could see your expression, uninterested and tired. she lowered them to glare at you.
“i don’t care what the hell your rules say, give me a fucking refund!” she exclaimed.
“dude can you not yell? it’s not in my hands.” you scoffed.
“give me a fucking refund!” she screamed. then the door rang (only you seemed to hear it) and you could hear a slightly familiar thudding footsteps approaching you and this woman and her awkward looking son.
“christ lady, shut the hell up and accept that you aren’t getting a damn refund.” Simon overstepped her, cutting her off and practically forcing her away from you and the counter.
you grinned small, leaning against the back counter. it didn’t take awhile for the woman to give up and walk off. her son silently followed behind her.
a silence followed afterwards, you waited for Simon to say something and you assumed he was waiting for you to say something. neither of you did for a little, and you silently cursed yourself out for not having an album spinning at the moment.
“people do that often?” Simon reached into his pocket, shuffling around in it until he produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. you cringed silently.
“nah, only when i’m super lucky.” you huffed. Simon brought a cigarette to his lips and flicked his lighter on. promptly, he lit the cigarette and took a drag from it.
“call that lucky?” he raised an eyebrow.
“ask a lot of questions?” you retaliated, exiting the front counter and finding yourself in the riot grrl section again. after you found an album, you opened it, prepared it, and put it on the record player.
with music in the background, you let another tsunami of silence flush over the two of you. it wasn’t awkward since you were more focused on unpacking a newer shipment of vinyls.
the store had recent had a flush of customers and bands playing, which helped you get a raise, but didn’t help your slight social awkwardness. you managed to cope by not hanging out with people outside of work anymore.
with your sudden interest switching to the new vinyls, you didn’t notice Simon leaving.
iv. coworkers and being hit on
━━━━━━━ AS MUCH AS IT SEEMED YOU DIDN’T, you did have coworkers. a few high school students and then a few older middle-aged guys. despite that, you didn’t really like most of them.
you liked the peace that came with single-person shifts, which were mostly what was worked, but events that had multiple bands coming up meant there’d be more than one worker.
you didn’t have to go into work until evening.
but that evening, you were displeased to see the most irritating coworker of yours by far. Chase, a middle aged man who still lived with his parents and was “voluntarily celibate”, was consistently hitting on you.
you didn’t like him, and you made it very obvious. sometimes you were so blatant you thought any child could understand you clearly. Chase was worse than a child.
not to mention, you’d grown accustomed to seeing Simon on most of your shifts, and it had been awhile since he’d shown up. you were a little worried, but you didn’t know him all that well regardless.
you still worried.
during the later half of the shift, the one that included the bands showing up and having to spend all your shift breaking up fights, sex, and so much more you never wanted to talk about anymore.
“hey,” Chase said with your name afterwards, “y’know we could go catch a drink after this.” he offered. you stared at him blankly. you clocked in 5 minutes ago.
“no.” you deadpanned, resting your already beginning-to-ache head against the cold counter. Chase was on the other side, but was still talking to you.
when the door opened, and you could hear the familiar stomping of Simon’s boots, you grinned just a little. you could hear him practically storming closer to the front, as Chase continued to blabber on and on about going out with him.
Simon called your name, and you rose your head. “cmon, i wanna talk to you.” he didn’t look at Chase, just at you. you groaned dramatically, going to slam your head down. a hand on the counter where you were gonna let your head thud against stopped it.
Simons hand led to his body, and his eyes were waiting for you to go with him.
so you did.
you had 30 minutes, and this would count for your break instead of you just taking it later on. you’d probably hate yourself for that later on, but now that you weren’t being hit on by Chase and there were no mean customers, you were happy.
“you smoke?” Simon held up a pre-rolled joint.
“no, i haven’t.” you shook your head.
“wanna try?”
“sure.”
twenty minutes later, you were lying on your back on the blanket you laid out to sit on. Simon was beside you, still sitting up. with the affects of the weed passing over you, your sudden need to have your hands on someone else sent your hands to draw shapes on Simon’s back.
he didn’t seem to notice, or care, and let you carry on.
“where have you been lately?” you asked carefully, your words softly spoken with a grin across your face and eyelids drooping to nearly being closed.
“out.” he hummed. you didn’t bring it back up, letting his words be the only explanation. “you got a boyfriend? girlfriend?” he asked. you shook your head, you didn’t have a relationship because most of your time had unfortunately been devoted to the record shop.
“do you?” you asked him right back.
“nah.” Simon mumbled.
“hey, breaks over.” Chase said, his head popped out of the door. you groaned dramatically, letting your body go lax and not moving.
Simon grinned, his head turned to look at you. every other body part was still, except for your hand - which you kept on a consistent movement drawing a star over and over again.
when he stood up, you frowned as your hand dropped. he reached down again, whisking you from the floor and helping you stand.
for the rest of the night, Simon stayed in the shop until you were done with work and about to walk home. without you noticing, he began walking with you and another joint was shared.
once you made it home, you unlocked the door and let you and Simon in. it was an apartment complex, and you led your guest alongside you to the elevators, which you used to find your apartment.
you unlocked that door too, and let Simon in and closed the door behind you both. “y’hungry?” you asked him. he shrugged, which you took as a ‘yes’, so you began making a box of mac ‘n’ cheese.
Simon took it upon himself to explore your apartment in that moment. you didn’t stop him, letting him look around and walk through every room. after some time, you called him back over and handed him the bowl of food, sitting down on the couch.
after eating, you and Simon found yourself basking in the soft glow of the moonlight on your balcony. it was calm, and there wasn’t really anything happening, seeing as it was around 12 a.m. at this point.
you could’ve fallen asleep out there, the guy you brought with you sitting separated from you by the door, a choice he made himself. you didn’t bother telling him he could come closer, if he didn’t want to sit by you originally then he didn’t have to in the end. you were fine with it.
“i’m gonna go, alright?” Simon said after an hour or so of sitting outside with nothing really happening. you nodded, weakly and tiredly waved goodbye.
he was gone after that.
v. record recommendations
━━━━━━━ YOU DIDN’T SEE SIMON FOR a few weeks after that. you didn’t expect to entirely, he was a little flaky like that, but you at least thought he could tolerate you better than dropping from the face of the earth suddenly.
you spent awhile alone at work again, standing behind the register listening to music and doing stupid stuff, it grew more and more boring.
you missed Simon’s presence. it was the one thing that differed from your typical workday which made everything a little more tolerable.
rather than rest on pondering the “what if”s of this whole situation, you’d found a rather interesting pass time. you began listening to more albums in an attempt to expand your music taste.
even that was in vain - it never worked.
after a week, you gave up the final sliver of hope and stopped wishing. you happily grew more adjusted to spending shifts without anyone with you, and it became easier and easier to go to work.
the third day after what you’d dubbed “The Acceptance” (you had nothing better to do, and were now clinging onto anything that could make it all more interesting) the door chimed and you could see the familiar face and hear the familiar stomping.
“hey, welcome in. do you need help finding anything?” if he wanted to be flaky, you could be petty and treat him like a normal customer. you held up a faux smile, throwing on your “customer ready” face.
Simon stared at you, and you patiently waited for him to do something, say something. but he didn’t. he continued to stare, which grew slightly more irritating.
you huffed internally, cussing him out in your mind while you were at it, spinning on your feet and walking to the side where boxes of new shipment lay.
pulling one up to counter, you grabbed the box cutters and opened it. a new set of the most sold album. you didn’t expect these to last awhile.
“excuse me?” a father with his son walked up to the counter closest to where you were opening boxes to restock the inventory.
you looked up, “yeah what’s up?” you set the cutters down and walked to the front counter.
“do you guys have anymore Korn albums? specifically Follow the Leader.” the father asked. you hummed, walking into the back after quickly excusing yourself. walking back out, album in hand, you were surprised to see Simon still standing there.
you gave the father and son the album, checked them out, and sent them out with a smile.
“did you need something, dude?” you finally broke the silence, back turned to Simon as you kept unpacking box after box.
you didn’t hear anything for a minute, and you prepared to say something else. “that genre you like, give me a recommendation for a band.” his voice was rough, and he sounded hesitant.
you turned around again to stare at him, sighing and complying. you gave him a Bikini Kill album (Pussy Whipped, specifically) and checked him out. as you went to say goodbye, he stomped off.
vi. admittance
━━━━━━━ THE NEXT TIME YOU SAW Simon, was a week later. you’d grown even more used to his absence, and no longer felt as bored as you originally did. you felt the same as before Simon showed up.
it’s like he never walked in.
until he did, the first day you met him and now.
“has anyone flirted with you?” he demanded as soon as he got to the counter. you stared at him in mock-awe.
“seriously, Simon? you turn into a disappearing act like you’re goddamn Houdini, but now you can walk in here and use that type of tone?” you rolled your eyes. huffing, you shook your head tiredly.
“has anyone flirted with you?” he repeated his question. your anger subsided into confusion.
“pretty sure, probably not seriously. why?” you hesitated to answer at first, genuine curiosity running through you like your own blood.
“that explains it. when are you off? or going on break?” he asked.
“i get off in an hour, and my break was like twenty minutes ago. why?” you took a step closer to the one thing stopping you from walking straight up to Simon.
he shook is head, “i’ll be back in an hour, then.” he muttered, turning around and stomping out.
the hour that you had left was dragging on suddenly, and your body practically shook with nerves and insecurity and one too many thoughts for the rest of the day.
you tried everything to get rid of it, attempting to listen to music (your thoughts were louder), attempting to read a book (the words moved when you tried focusing, like they were shaking with your nerves), and trying to work on inventory (there was nothing to unbox).
once it was over, and you were clocking out, you were surprised to see Simon driving a blue truck. he waited for you, as you hesitantly approached the car. with a single honk of his car and a mean glare, you got in quickly.
he hardly waited for you to get in before driving off. you didn’t get scared or anything, you just braced yourself and got comfortable in the plush seats.
“who’s truck is this?” you quizzed.
“my friends.” he bluntly spoke, leaving no room for any other conversation.
it didn’t really bother you, the silence was comforting and now that you were with Simon, your previous nerves and feelings had been dropped entirely.
after what seemed to be around an hour, Simon pulled onto a desolate dirt road, that switched to a untouched grassy trail. your relaxation turned into confusion. was he about to kill you? you expected you’d live a few more years, but maybe you were wrong.
he parked near a cliff, and got out. you went to follow him, but he closed your door before you could. you watched him in confusion as he circled the car and opened it for you.
you looked at him, even more confused than before. this was not like the Simon you had been talking to in the past.
“who are you and what have you done with Simon?”
“shut up and come the fuck on.” now it sounded like the Simon you knew, you grinned playfully and got out.
“are you taking me here to kill me?” you questioned carefully.
“why the hell would i do that?” he turned to you, confusion written across his face.
“no clue, not every serial killer needs a motive.” you tapped your temple after saying that, before pointing at him.
“what the fuck.” he muttered.
“you choose to bring me here!” you exclaimed.
“clearly, i made a mistake.” Simon complained, watching as you walked closer to him.
“why did you bring me here?” you finally asked, folding your arms over your chest and patiently waiting for his answer.
“isn’t it obvious?” he scoffed. you shook your head with an eyebrow raised. what was supposed to be obvious? you waited for him to continue.
“jesus christ. i fucking like you, dumbass.” he emphasized the insult at the end. you rolled your eyes before stopping. it was like everything around you practically did the same thing - stopped.
you stared at him long and hard.
“you’re lying, right?” you hesitated to break the seemingly ever-lasting silence, but what was done is done, and Simon was the one rolling his eyes.
“no, i’m not. are you really this dense?” he was getting mad now.
“well, sure.” you shrugged one shoulder, letting your arms unfold and fall to your sides. he scoffed - which seemed to be his favorite thing to do. it didn’t help how awkward you were.
sure you had been mad at him, but now, thinking back, you could feel the undertones of yearning for his care, and yearning for a relationship. you sighed, looking down to regain your confidence before looking back up.
“if it makes you less mad, i like you too.” you hummed with a sly grin.
masterlist — reminder that asks / requests is open!!
they don’t make ‘em like this anymore mane
putting i ❤️ the red and black emo boy archetype on a t-shirt