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#I could talk about the things that didn’t age well for hours
alottiegoingon · 3 days
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who's afraid of virginia woolf?
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jackie taylor x fem!reader
summary: the one where you and jackie secretly love each other while struggling with your sexuality.
warnings: jackie and reader are best friends, everyone is 21+, alcohol, heavy mentions of r and j dealing with their sexuality, homophobia mentions?, lesbians in denial, angst but fluff and happy ending, not proofread, slightly based on good luck, babe by chappell roan!!
making plans of going to college together became a regular thing when you and jackie entered high school. it was only natural that the two of you shared the typical teenager dream of living with your best friend and being roomates in uni, ditching classes and getting drunk instead of studying for exams.
"hey, don't worry." jackie tried to comfort you when you got a terrible score at your finals in senior year. she was fidgeting with the heart necklace she wore on her neck, gently spinning it around between her fingers.
regardless her impressive and actually sad capacity to pretend to be just a silly popular girl with pretty face and shiny hair, jackie was actually smart. you knew that all that effort to act all clueless and giggly around weird teenage boys in high school was fake. you never saw jackie studying during the weekends but, somehow, she would always get the perfect grade but would be the first one to hide it from boys. everyone knew that being too smart was bad. boys would easily get intimidated and that wasn't good for jackie taylor.
"we are gonna get through this together. i promise. i'll help you." jackie gives you that same old sweet looking smile that always get you freaking out inside while putting on your best show to act casual.
one more thing about jackie taylor; she had your heart in the palm of her hands since you two met. you weren't certain about how your friendship actually started, but you were sure that it was almost instantly.
jackie was actually quite popular by the age of eleven. she had the charisma of those late night show hosts you used to watch on tv with your parents, the prettiest and softest hair ever and a sweet perfume that would ling around for days.
jackie was also a natural leader. if any kid needed to complain about a classmate stealing their favorite glitter pen or their favorite sticker, jackie would be in charge of comforting them and helping them with whatever they needed. it wasn't rare for the teachers to have a talk with her after class to compliment her for being such a role model. everyone loved jackie.
you loved jackie, maybe too much.
it didn’t take long for you to realize that. you had the worst time of your life every single day while having lunch in the cafeteria with jackie and other girls from your class. you felt like ripping your ears off when all they could talk about was boys. they weren't even being discreet about it, you thought at yourself as you watched them stare at a couple of losers that were treated like gods with their weird stiff hair full of gel and a mustache that consisted on a tiny clump of facial hair.
while every girl at your table was so mesmerized by them, dreaming about how their lives would be so perfect if they ever liked them back, you were captivated by someone else; jackie.
you could watch her for hours, even if she was too busy looking at boys. you would think that her hazel eyes were even prettier that day, but that was a daily thing. you loved to hear her voice and to see her big beautiful smile adorning her face when she was excited about something and, with her, you didn't mind hearing about boys.
eventually, you and jackie got to live the dream. sharing a small bedroom with your best friend would sound like heaven to any girl but to you, it could be scary as well.
not only you were going to see her face every second at the day but it would also be hard to hear her constant speech about how you had to be more friendly and outgoing and stop studying so much. in another words, she wanted you to date guys.
that was a common debate between you two in high school. her persistent need to find the perfect boyfriend for you even though you were always ready to deny it. maybe she was trying to get rid of you?
"come onnn! all you do is study. remember last year when i had to drag you to mari's birthday party and you spent the whole night hidden in the corner?" jackie made fun of you during your first night together while doing her usual skin care routine.
even with her hair pulled back by a headband and with her face covered in cream, she looked fucking stunning.
"i wasn't hiding! i was just watching everyone from a safe distance..."
"that's actually worse." she giggled. you watch her leave the bathroom with a face mask and wearing nothing but a soft robe that had you on your knees.
“i’m not telling you to go crazy. all i’m saying is that you need to relax, okay?”
you weren’t exactly proud of it but you had to admit that is was too hard to focus on anything else besides her. it was impossible to deny her anything anyway but now? you were in tight shoes.
you could already feel your face heating up while you stood there like a coward with eyes growing wide and fighting for your life to not drool over your straight best friend.
“so? what do you think?” she insists, giving you an impatient glance.
“yes.” you immediately said the first thing that popped into your head.
“what?” you watch jackie’s eyebrows knitting.
“i-i mean, yes! i agree. i should relax more.” you trip over your own words but, thankfully, jackie didn’t seem to notice. maybe you were just stressed with the entire change of routine.
“great! we can start tomorrow!” she clapped her hands excitedly as her smile grew from one ear to another, probably surprised and relieved that you didn’t disagree this time.
[📚]
the first weeks weren’t nearly as good as you thought they would be. you managed to make some friends and actually met nice people, but so did jackie.
every friday night was a new suffocating experience. after a long week, jackie would drag you to the closest bar that most of the students would go to and, for the first half of the night, her duty was to play the matchmaker.
ever since you had agreed with her that night, you would force yourself to look happy in front of jackie at every god damn time she introduced you to a guy.
“i think you have so much in common!” she would say to all of the men before giving you a wink and leaving you two alone in a noisy bar, disappearing into the drunk pool of people.
it was always awkward and uncomfortable, of course. some of the guys ended up being actually acceptable and some were even sweet. but no matter how hard you tried to focus on the conversation, you would eventually find yourself looking for jackie in the crowd just to get your heart shattered by the view of a drunk jackie taylor with her pretty dress, messy hair, and with one of her hands tightly wrapped around the heart shaped necklace, eagerly kissing a stranger.
seeing this at pretty much every friday night didn’t make your daily need to fight against your feelings the easiest. you were drowning so deeply into your own thoughts that, one day, you woke up decided to forget about it.
maybe all of that was just a phase. you didn’t have feelings for your best friend and you definitely didn’t feel like throwing up every time you saw a boy since you were a kid. and, obviously, you wouldn’t fail biology or calculus on purpose just to be tutored by jackie so you could spend even more time with her and listen to her voice.
and absolutely, without a doubt, you weren’t scared of the big bad wolf called truth banging on your door and calling you a wimpy liar.
fuck.
[📚]
everyone know that famous saying “you are what you eat”, but what about you are what you desire?
jackie stopped complaining about you being stuck on your dorm studying on a friday night or during the weekends cause you stopped doing it. now, she wasn’t the only one to frequently visit the closest bar.
most of the time, you were the one to invite her first and at that point, it became a tradition.
you and jackie had different classes during the day and would barely spend any time together until you two met again at night. you, too scared to even look at her, would find an excuse to sleep early or spend the night at some random guy’s dorm that you met the other night. spoiler alert; you didn’t even remember his name.
you noticed the visible disappointment in jackie’s eyes and how deeply hurt she seemed every time you left, too desperate to silence your own thoughts and numb your feelings with good old alcohol.
during the bar nights that you two shared, jackie wasn’t as energetic as before. sometimes, while feeling like you were kissing a fish as your lips awkwardly melded with some other guy’s, you would open your eyes right in the middle of it to find jackie on the other side of the bar, sitting by herself with a filled glass of something strong.
you felt sick to your stomach at the idea of being touched by anyone else except for her, especially a man. but it was worth it if it meant that you could forget her entire existence for the night and wake up at someone else’s bed in the morning (and probably be late for class).
the year was flying by and everything stayed the same, except that the two of you didn’t share a word for the past few months and you avoided each other at all costs.
“i was wondering that, maybe now that finals are over, we could-“
“sorry, i got plans with travis. i’ll see you later!” jackie said while rushing to the door of your shared dormitory. you were a liar but so was she. you knew that “later” was a synonym to “tomorrow if you’re lucky”.
and just like that, everyday was the day to hear a different name. kevin, josh, steve, randy, sam. you even thought about making a list with all those names. you tried to leave the dorm during that nights as well but you were too worried about her safety. it would be much better to just wait for her and pretend to be asleep when the door opens.
you couldn’t blame her, you were the one who started it.
[📚]
in a typical night at the bar, you feel a stranger’s arm wrapped around your waist. you were already dizzy thanks to the couple of shots you took and could barely feel your mouth attached to his. however, you were kind of thankful for that.
jackie wasn’t in a very different situation but she knew how to be pettier than you. she knew you and how you were acting for the past months. how you would look for her with the corner of your eyes just to make sure that she was okay or not too drunk.
you weren’t the most cautious person, jackie perceived your multiple stares and she would make the best of it. while having your attention, she was hiding behind her best mask and flirting with the first man she saw. it was the performance of her life, consisting of a fake smile followed by a loud and high pitched giggle and an exaggerated hair twirling.
you, watching from across the room, felt your blood boil as your hands curl into fists. how dare jackie to do this right in front of you? didn’t she know how badly you wanted her?
retaliating her behavior, you would mimic her actions just to get under her skin. until it worked too well.
you carefully watched jackie leave the bar in quick steps and your first idea was to ignore her. she started the entire jealous thing and she was being childish. but so were you.
you immediately ditched the person who you were talking to and placed the shot glass on the wooden table so you could follow her.
you immediately stopped walking as soon as you put your feet outside, finding her sitting on the sidewalk. you would usually approach her in seconds, ready to go for a hug, but neither of you were in proper speaking terms now.
cautiously, you get closer. she doesn’t look up to meet you but you know that she can feel you there. you sit by her side and hug your legs. the silence gets so loud that you would be able to hear crickets if it wasn’t for the muffled noise coming from the bar.
“what happened to us?” jackie’s breathy and insecure voice finally breaks through the silence after a while.
you finally feel brave enough to look at her. not just look, to see her. to acknowledge her presence. to not ignore her.
“i don’t know.” you whisper. but you did.
“are we even friends?”
“we used to be best friends.” she looks at you and, for the first time in what felt like forever, you could see all of the details in her face again. of course, she was prettier than you could remember.
“you remember when you gave me this?” jackie grabs the shiny heart pendant, rubbing it between her fingertips. there was a small hint of a smile trying to make its way to her lips.
“yeah. you were scared to try for the soccer team.”
“scared? i was terrified.” she adds and you let a whispery chuckle out. “i couldn’t sleep for days, thinking if i would be good enough to even make it to the bench.”
“you gave me this before the first trial and said that if i was feeling too scared, i could squeeze it and it would be just like holding your hand.”
“i guess it worked, right?” you try to lighten the mood, lips curling up into a subtle smirk. jackie ended up being part of the team and, over time, the team captain.
she nods in silence.
“i didn’t even like soccer.”
“what? but you were so good. why did you join the team?” your eyes narrow as you speak and your heart starts to beat faster when jackie takes longer to say something.
“you were part of the team. i wanted to be around you.”
you find yourself looking away from her to hide the sudden heat and the pinkish tone of your cheeks. jackie went through a stressful week that year, practicing and learning the basics without actually liking it just because of you.
the sound of your voices is replaced by a loud nothing once again. the air was growing thicker and even the slightest touch of your shoulders accidentally brushing against each other was a reason to make you unconsciously hold your breath.
“i think i’m a lesbian.” your feel yourself getting struck by a sharp surge of disbelief and in a blink of an eye, she has your attention again. you feel the palm of your hands getting sweaty, going against the cold weather.
“what? why?” you manage to say a few words and, if it wasn’t for the delicate moment, jackie would have laughed at your frantic gaze.
“because.” jackie sighs, not being able to stop playing with the heart hanging on her neck. “i felt absolutely nothing when i had to pretend to care about boys in middle school but i felt the entire world when you were looking at me.”
not only she knew that you were always staring at her in the cafeteria but she liked it. she liked having your attention.
“you were never good at hiding it, by the way.” she snorts but you were sure that she was just as nervous as you.
“i thought i was pretty good…” you whisper, grinning. she was absolutely right, though.
“really? i found a biology test of yours hidden under your bed once. you were even better than me but you said that you were failing it and needed help.” the red color on your face gets more intense as you share a loud laugh. your hands momentarily cover your face.
“i think i just wanted to be around you.” you shrug, defending yourself by echoing her words.
“you still do?” jackie asks and, slowly, the lighthearted smile fades away from your face.
your gaze was lingering on her eyes and wouldn’t dare to leave. not even when you gently leaned closer and your fingers fixed her hair by carefully hiding a small section behind her ear. the entire world felt like it had stopped and you could hear a feather hitting the ground. it was quite adorable how jackie was the one to held her breath now just before swallowing the lump on her throat.
“i think i’ll always want to be around you.” you whisper. there was nothing but love and adoration inside your eyes as you felt completely hypnotized by her. you allowed your gaze to drift down to meet her lips and the hand that was hanging around her ear just a second ago found its way to her face. the palm of your hand fit perfectly on her cheek and you took the opportunity to guide her closer to you.
the first thing you feel the second after closing your eyes is jackie’s soft lips touching yours and how tenderly they were dancing together. it was almost like you and jackie were made of glass and you didn’t want to break each other.
jackie’s hand imitated yours but she used her thumb to caress your cheek. you feel her pulling away from your lips and you feel faint when your eyes open and she is smiling like she had just won the lottery.
“fuck. you are so pretty.” you groan in a dramatic way. with watery eyes and rosy cheeks, jackie nestle her face into your neck and gives your skin a small kiss, causing you to shiver and hug her body tightly, closer to you.
maybe the big bad wolf on your door wasn’t so scary now.
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bellasprettywords · 2 days
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Hey, I love your writing! I was wondering if you’d do a little something based off of the lyrics “Well, every once in awhile, she'll find my number in her phone and we'll talk for hours She'll tell me things I would have never known about when we were together She's saying, "Sorry, it's just such a long walk home" So she's coming over cause it's better than being alone” Spencer Reid x female reader. I was thinking more like a Midwest emo alt type of character, totally not someone you’d expect Spencer to go for?
I think your nose is bleeding (Spencer Reid x Reader)
Thank you very very much for the request!! I hope you like this little one shot, because I didn't know the song, but I hope I could meet your expectations🩷✨
My masterlist
Requests are always open🥰
Warnings: Mmm apart of it being a little messy, I think there's nothing, but it fluff
Word count: 1,232
y/n – your name
Spencer and you were kind of an odd couple, excuse me, a couple of friends for the untrained eye. While he’s a trained scholar with a collection of PhDs on Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering; with an impressive job as a profiler at the FBI, which most of the time had him travelling all around the country, and a shy personality with socially awkward tints, and a genius brain. You are a tattoo artist with a free spirit, a soft spot for poetry, love for sassy comebacks, and a special love for midwest emo music. Once upon a time, almost a year ago, Spencer and you were a couple, but the two of you decided to leave things as friends, because your lifestyles were quite different, which made a relationship considerably difficult for you. However, the two of you decided to stay friends, which seemed kind of easier as you established a set of rules to make sure everything between the two of you could flow naturally.
Even if it was as friends, you knew that the two of you seemed like polar opposites, but the love you shared always made you be better for each other, growing up, learning about the other’s point of view, and becoming empathetic, even if you didn’t see eye to eye under certain circumstances. After your break-up, Spencer and you learned to compromise and commit to make sure the friendship could work, sure, sometimes it was hard considering his packed schedule, and your love for spontaneous adventures.
It was a little later than you would usually close the tattoo studio, so you decided to call Spencer to see what he was up to; you hadn’t talked in a while, so you weren’t even sure if he was in the city, but it was worth it to take the shot.
“Hey, y/n, it’s nice to hear from you” you heard Spencer’s voice through the phone
“How are you, mighty Doctor Reid?” you asked excited because, deep down, you were really longing to hear Spencer’s voice
“I’m… I’m alright, you know, just doing my thing; how are you? It’s been ages” he said trying to hide his own excitement to hear from you. Sure, you were friends, but deep down Spencer hoped that with time and more organization, maybe someday the two of you could rekindle your previous relationship
“It’s only been a couple of weeks, but I know what you mean! I’ve missed you Spence, I hope I’m not interrupting you at work or anything” you said, walking to your car
“No, I’m just home solving a puzzle, and deciding what to order for dinner” he said
“Uh, that’s nice, I was actually thinking about going to Little India to get take out. I’m really craving chicken curry, want anything?” you said jokingly, pretty sure Spencer wouldn’t catch the subtext
“Uh… sure, some chicken tikka masala and flatbread would be pretty amazing, thank you for asking” Spencer said, ensuring you he didn’t catch the joke
“An order or chicken tikka masala, white rice, and flatbread, coming right up” you said getting ready to hang up the call, when Spencer interrupted
“Wait, don’t hang up” he said as you turned on your car engine “I want to go with you, if that’s okay, I mean, if it’s not an imposition” he stuttered this time
“It would be delightful, sure, I love talking to you” you said with a shy smile forming on your lips, “What have you been up to? Any cool cases I can know about?” you asked Spencer
“I flew in today from Atlanta, we went to solve a case there” Spencer stared telling you all about the case, the unsub and how the team managed to save the victims that were abducted, when a car cut you off and honcked at you
“Jerk” you said under your breath
“y/n! are you okay? what was that?” Spencer asked frantically
“I’m okay, I’m okay, it was just some jerk” you said hoping to soothe Spencer’s concern “Did you know I hate driving?” you asked the young doctor
“I didn’t know that” he said sounding quite surprised at your revelation
“I really do! That’s why I’d always ask you if we could carpool when we were together” you confessed
“Hu… That would’ve been useful information back then” he said, making sure of making a mental note about that, to ensure to drive you whenever he could do it
The two of you kept talking, and the 40-minute drive that you needed to get to your favorite Indian restaurant, suddenly felt like a 5-minute stroll with the one you loved. Talking to Spencer like this felt amazing, it was peaceful, it almost felt natural like breathing, he always had the right words for you and even when you paused the conversation for a little while, the silence between the two of you was incredibly comfortable. You arrived at your destination and while you were ordering the food, Spencer stayed on the line with you, speaking about an impressive number of folkloric Indian stories, and facts about the country. You picked up the food and drove to Spencer’s apartment, this time, the drive was quite short, but that didn’t mean it was least pleasant with Spence’s rambling
When you arrived to the apartment building, Spencer was already downstairs waiting for you
“Hey boy-genious, I was at least hoping I could separate the orders before giving them to you” you said, a little butt hurt that apparently, Spencer didn’t even want you on his apartment
“What are you talking about? I’m here to help you carry the bags upstairs” he said a little confused by your comment
“Oh, I thought… Never mind” you said brushing off the butterflies that starter fluttering inside your stomach
“I’m really glad you called, you had no idea how much I missed you” Spencer said as you were entering the apartment building
“I missed you too Spence” you said
The night went amazingly, and the damn butterflies wouldn’t go anywhere. The two of you eat dinner together, and it almost felt as you have never broken up, the conversation flowed, and you could feel how this was one of those moments you’d always treasure in your heart
“I should get going, it’s a really long drive home” you said as soon as the clock struck 12:00 am
“Don’t go, please, just… stay the night” Spencer pleaded with his puppy eyes
“I really shouldn’t” you replied, avoiding eye contact with Spencer. Sure, one would argue that a friend can stay over at another friend’s apartment, but you knew that with Spencer it would be complicated, especially as you weren’t over him yet
“I’m begging you, I may seem alright, but as soon as I go to bed without you I feel so… empty and alone. This apartment is not the same without you, as a matter of fact, my life is not the same without you” Spencer said taking your chin so you could look at him in the eye
“If I stay the night, I may never leave” you said, gifting Spencer a side smile
“Maybe I just don’t want you to leave” Spencer said, leaning forward and starring intensively into your eyes, so you did what any normal person who has the object of his or her desire would’ve done: you leaned forward, and kissed Spencer
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thecatundertheladder · 17 hours
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how about fsm's and lloyds first meeting in the fsm lives au?
First of all thank you so much for asking!!! I had a lot of fun writing this even if took ages. Right so I haven't completely figured out when the ninja actually meet Fsm, but I'll get to that later. I do have a rough timeline so probably in between seasons five and six (Possession will obviously get retconned a lot). Garmadon is alive btw.
Lloyd had never really made the connection between his grandfather and the First Spinjitzu Master. Like sure he knew it logically, but there was a real difference between 'my grandfather is the First Spinjitzu Master' and 'the First Spinjitzu Master is my grandfather'. And besides, the guy was dead, as far as he could tell, so it didn't really matter other than 'hey I inherited cool powers and also his arch nemesis'. Honestly, the only things Lloyd knew about his grandfather were that he invented spinjitzu, used the golden weapons to create Ninjago, fought the Overlord, and he had two kids, who happened to be Lloyd's dad and uncle.
So naturally it was quite a shock when one day at breakfast Wu announced that his father was coming to visit in a few days.
What resulted from that statement was a rather long and, uh, productive (not really) conversation (a very loud debate).
Cole: What?! But he’s supposed to be dead! Kai: No no one of my village elders said he just left this realm and would return when we need him most. Morro: Nah grandpa just does whatever he likes. Though he was in another realm last time I checked, at least that's right. Jay: What the fuck does that even mean?!
That ,of course, sparked a whole other debate about why Morro knew that. It got sorted out in the end, eventually, after a few thrown noodle bowls.
But while the others seemed to calm down after that, Lloyd steadily got more anxious. Because this was his grandfather, the man who had created Ninjago itself, and fought the Overlord the first time. Yes, Lloyd had done that as well, but what if he didn’t met his grandfather's expectations? What if he was disappointed in him?
Morro, on the other hand, was pretty excited to see his grandpa again; it had been two years, and despite Morro taking advantage of Fsm's omniscience to inform him about various coming and goings, he hadn’t had an actual conversation, and he had a lot of things to show him as well. But Lloyd had seemed pretty anxious since Wu’s announcement, so, like any good older cousin, Morro cornered him on the way to breakfast.
Morro: What’s up with you? You’ve been anxious ever since dad told us grandpa was coming here. Lloyd, mumbling: What if I don't live up to his expectations? Morro: Huh? Lloyd, louder: What if he's disapointed in me? Morro: As someone who's actually meet him, his expectations are don't die, and don't kill innocent people. Pretty low expectations if you ask me. You'll be fine.
This makes Lloyd feel a bit better, but he's still anxious, and he refuses to talk to anyone else about it because, to him at least, it seems a bit dumb to be anxious about meeting his grandfather when no else is (they are, Lloyd just hasn't noticed).
Anyway fast forward to The Day of The Arrival. Lloyd gets up earlier than usual in order to mentally prepare himself for meeting God. And, since he's expecting to have a few hours before the First Spinjitzu Master arrives, he doesn't really bother to make himself presentable before making his way to the kitchen.
This was a mistake.
Because when lloyd enters the kitchen there's man(?) sitting at the table wearing a black kimono with gold detailing. And Lloyd's first though is 'fuck, its the First Spinjitzu Master' before he realises that the man (? seriously why is it so hard to tell) is in his late thirties at most. So Lloyd's next thought is 'why is this random person in my kitchen?'
Lloyd, suspicious: Who are you and why are you here? Fsm, smiling: I'm your grandfather, and I'm your grandfather. Lloyd: You can't be my grandfather! You're like thirty! Fsm: I am not thirty, I'm a shapeshifter. Fsm, now vaguely concerned: You didn’t know that? Why didn’t you know that?
So, luckily, Fsm, by being themself, manages to almost completely allay Lloyd’s anxiety by getting up, telling Lloyd to follow him, and going to find both his children so they can smack them on the head because come on you two this is Morro all over again (Fsm can't really talk though, his godly domain should really be 'forgetting to tell people important information'). Because he can understand Morro not knowing that Fsm - and subsequently their descendants - isn’t human, but Lloyd is actually related!
Lloyd, meanwhile, is shocked. God, his grandfather, is in his house, looking all of thirty, and stalking through the monastery all while grumbling under his breath about his kids not telling Lloyd something, all while Lloyd trails behind him like a lost fawn.
It’s then Lloyd remembers his pyjamas and bed hair, and he just, internally cringes. Like, c'mon, this is the First Spinjitzu Master, and here he is looking like he just got out of bed (that he actually did just get out of bed is completely pointless in Lloyd’s mind). But something about this thought process must have shown in his face and body language (never mind that Lloyd is behind his grandfather), because suddenly the First Spinjitzu Master (man Lloyd really has to get his name) is turning around, stopping Lloyd in his tracks.
Fsm: Stop that. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I am 25,000 years old, and I have raised two children, I have seen a lot worse than bed hair.
That makes Lloyd blush, but his grandfather is already on the move again, seeking out his children.
Of course, once Fsm does find their children, Lloyd has the pleasure of finding out that his grandfather his half oni, half dragon (“dragoni”, his father says, “easier on the tongue”).
But once Lloyd processes that he’s not fully human (and, like in the show, he’s pretty calm about because it makes a lot of sense when he actually thinks about) he starts to bond with his grandpa and damn the First Spinjitzu Master is not anything like he expected him to be, but honestly, Lloyd is actually kinda relieved about that. He’s a lot more approachable than Lloyd expected, and it seems he’s where Wu and Garmadon got the more, um, eccentric sides of their personalities. Lloyd is still a bit nervous around him, but that slowly goes away over the few weeks that Fsm is staying for.
Throughout those weeks, Lloyd kinda starts to get comfortable around Fsm. Lloyd shows Fsm a bunch of video games (I've decided this includes Minecraft because, listen, Fsm would be great at Minecraft (specifically creative mode) and you can't tell me otherwise), as well as board games, which leads to the interesting revelation that Mystake (Mystake?! Who runs the tea shop?!) banned Fsm from playing uno a few months after it come out because he tackled someone after he had to pick up 16 cards.
Hope you enjoyed!
But yeah I’ll probably do a separate post for the family bonding.
Also I feel like I need to give fsm a proper name at this point. I’ve been calling them imaragami (ih-ma-rah-gar-mi) since I started thing this whole idea up but tbh it’s just a bunch of random syllables put together (I’m kinda attached to it at this point tho). But anyway what do you think?
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scottpilgrim4everr · 5 months
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I rewatched the Scott Pilgrim movie last night after work and it definitely is a movie that exists.
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ghostiboos · 1 year
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Anti-Capitalism and ChatGPT
(wordcount: 1,177)
Here’s the thing. I’ll be the first to admit that ChatGPT is cool, yeah? And I’m far from ignorant of the wonderful things it’s made possible. But there’s a pretty big problem with its professional usage,
and before you stop reading,
I promise that the point of this post is not "you have to stop using ChatGPT." Just. Stick with me for a minute, cuz contrary to what you might expect, this is not a problem contained to just the normies that don’t use ChatGPT: this is about how ChatGPT will affect you.
I’m about to use some scary words like “scalping” and “exploitation,” but remember I’m not accusing you of anything. In fact, let’s start with the good stuff.
Among other things, it could be argued that ChatGPT actually enhances workplace accessibility by “leveling the playing field,” in a way. Any job candidate can quickly make up for lack of time/skill/ability in one area by using ChatGPT to fill in the gaps, right? An individual’s personal quality of life can improve by “outsourcing” aspects of their work to ChatGPT — they have more free time, and maybe their work quality and pay grade improve too.
But I’d like to point out that this isn’t ChatGPT making life better for employees. This is actually ChatGPT eliminating the entire role of “employee.”
Okay, crazy statement time:
A person using ChatGPT in a professional setting is no longer an employee, but, in practice, actually a corporation.
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Well, in concise terms, ChatGPT catalyzes the exploitation of labor by collecting it all in one place, meaning that the labor of hundreds of people can be scalped and represented as the work of a single entity: the individual using ChatGPT.
This essentially transforms the individual employee into a CEO of their own small corporation, which is being outsourced to larger corporations for work. Our new “CEO” doesn’t even have to pay any “employees,” keeping all of the profit they earned with the labor scalped by ChatGPT. This is why the individual is able to reap so much more profit from using ChatGPT than they ever could from working as a single employee.
You may think I’m trying to frame our new little “CEO” as the villain of this story, but it’s exactly the opposite. They’re just playing by the rules of the system, and within the system, it’s way nicer being a corporation than it is living as an employee. It’s just proof of concept that life on top is exactly as easy as we’ve all been guessing it is, and the only requirement for leveling up is a willingness to exploit labor. ChatGPT is a shiny new miracle tool that makes exploitation easy and accessible to everyone, and it doesn’t even look or feel like exploitation because there are no faces attached.
But that’s where this short-term improvement goes downhill: it’s accessible to everyone, including the actual corporations, who have already amassed the means to exploit labor en masse. If ChatGPT gives individuals a level-up by eliminating the role of employee and allowing them to act as corporations, how does that same level-up work when a corporation uses it? Well, I guess it’s a good thing the role of “employee” has been eliminated, because they aren’t needed anymore lol: not if your goal is to turn a profit, and we all know that’s just how things go.
But hey— galaxy brain here, but couldn’t that be kind of a good thing actually? The current system doesn’t function without people on the bottom who are available for exploitation, so if ChatGPT can automate the exploited parties for us by scalping labor from the past, then doesn’t that mean that the endless work necessitating human employment in the first place is finally… unnecessary? For the first time ever, we could be looking at a society where pretty much all of the labor is already accounted for, meaning all humans are free to pursue any passion they want regardless of their background, regardless of their class, regardless of how much money they- oh, right… Money.
The world I described above either sounds like a utopia to you or a dogshit stupid pipe dream, and unfortunately, both are true.
The problem is,
while technology has advanced to the point where it’s finally ready for automated labor, society has not.
We still live in a system where if you don’t work, you don’t eat, regardless of whether any work actually needs to be done. So… what actually happens in the current system if labor is automated?
Well, I won’t bore you with the typical “THE ROBOTS ARE TAKING ALL OUR JOBS” routine, but like. It’s only half wrong? I mean, we don’t even have the tech to automate all labor anyway, so it’s not like that’s literally what’s happening. But there are still… a lot of jobs that can be automated now, and that puts a lot of people in positions where they have to compete with ChatGPT in order to keep food on the table. It’s already a losing battle for a lot of people.
Using ChatGPT gives you a taste of corporate power, of the ability to exploit if it makes things financially easier for you. And that’s understandable, right? We’re all struggling in a system like this. Just don’t forget that line of reasoning when it comes full circle, where instead of getting to do the exploiting, you’re the one being exploited (again). Don’t forget what it was like to be on top: how normal it felt, reasonable, unremarkable. It didn’t feel like exploitation when you only experienced the profits. That is who owns you now. Let that radicalize you.
So long story short,
the existence and usage of ChatGPT is not the problem. In a better world, you’re right that ChatGPT could be a great ally, but the current structure of the job market has transformed it into a competitor. The human working class and ChatGPT are forced to compete against each other, not because it is rational for us to be enemies, but because the system pits all laborers against each other for the “privilege” of work. People are realizing that they really can’t beat the competition this time, so don’t scold them when they don’t share your enthusiasm. We’re all dogs in this fight, and ChatGPT has fucking lazer eyes.
It’s not the end of the world – the job market has always been prone to fluctuation – but this is different from your average fluctuation. It re-frames so much that used to seem impossible, but if we don’t change the system itself to match this advancement in technology, I guarantee it’s not gonna be the people at the top who pay the price.
The choice is not whether or not to use ChatGPT.
The choice is whether to discontinue ChatGPT so that society can continue with the relative stability it had before, or to embrace ChatGPT as the ally it could be by changing the structures that weaponize it against us.
(Okay I’m getting off my soapbox now, I sure hope nobody else is in this abandoned soapbox factory, can you imagine how embarrassing it would be if anyone actually heard me say all that lol)
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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months
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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)
Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3
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“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 
You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 
You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 
So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 
— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 
He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 
— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 
— Ah…your father is at home? 
You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 
— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 
— You didn’t tell him about me? 
Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 
— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…
An apathetic dad, huh. 
You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 
— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 
He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 
You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 
*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 
König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 
With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 
Scheisse
Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…
The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 
You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 
— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 
You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 
You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 
— Ja. You can have it. 
He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 
— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 
You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 
Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 
— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 
You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 
He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 
— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 
— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 
You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 
— What do you mean by this, sir? 
You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 
Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 
He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 
The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 
König is. 
— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 
You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 
Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 
König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 
Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 
— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 
“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 
You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 
König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 
God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 
He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 
You look like a good candidate. 
— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 
He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 
— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 
You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 
— You want to see the bedroom then?
Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 
— Sir, this is very…
He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 
— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.
You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 
Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 
— I don’t want to break his heart. 
— He doesn’t have one. 
You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…
God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 
Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 
You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 
— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 
“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 
You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 
König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 
— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 
He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 
He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 
He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 
— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 
— N…not a whore, please…
He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 
— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…
— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…
— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.
He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 
It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 
It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…
You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 
Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 
König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 
So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 
— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 
— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 
— I’ll tell him. 
— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 
— I need to return to my dorm. 
— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 
He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 
He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 
Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 
— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 
— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 
You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 
12K notes · View notes
gracieheartspedro · 6 months
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Who We Are
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pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller
description: when your father falls ill, his patrol partner and best friend, joel miller finds a way to aid in his recovery. but this solution is complicated and requires you to take on a week-long hunt for supplies and resources. being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in evenutally.
word count: 17k words. this one is a LONG ONE. get a snack.
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, illness that requires medical intervention, blood, guns, killing of infected, forced proximity, joel is kinda pervy?, talks of loss of family members, joel lies about his past, oral (f receiving), face sitting, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, creampie, after care.
author's note: ... hi folks! this one is a long one, so like I said, grab a snack and get comfy! I was going to make this multiple parts but I'm eager and unhinged. to be honest, this story is better as one big one shot anyway. I had a very intense time editing so I know I probably missed some things. I may write little branch off stories if you guys enjoy it enough. anyway, enjoy! <3 lemme know what you think!
“Didn’t know you were workin’ tonight, darlin’,” Your father’s Southern drawl brings you out of your daze. You had been cleaning glasses for the last hour and a half. Surprisingly, the Tipsy Bison wasn’t busy on a Wednesday night. You had been keeping busy by cleaning and serving two visitors. 
You look up, noticing your father and his patrol partner wander into the bar. They find a seat at the bar, right in front of you as you dry some whiskey glasses. 
“I work every night this week, Pops,” You mutter, turning back to the liquor bottles to grab his favorite bourbon. You knew exactly what he came here for. He wanted to pester you on your shift and watch you write under his partner’s gaze. He thought your little crush was entertaining. You have made comments to your dad in the past about how you thought Joel was nice to look at and your Dad would just laugh. He would jokingly wiggle his finger at you and tell you to find someone your age. 
Little do you and your father know, Joel feels similarly about you. The first moment he saw you, he thought about how if he was a young buck, he’d lock you down as soon as he could. The age held him back initially, never even entertaining your subtle glances or welcoming smiles. Then when he realized who your father was, he immediately shut down all thoughts like that in his head. You were strictly off-limits.
“Well good, keeps you busy.”
You did not enjoy the idea of working every weeknight with a bunch of drunks, but this job was a bit better than constantly shoveling horse shit. Instead, you got to mingle with the locals. Maybe find yourself a man, since you were in your early thirties and unmarried.
Joel loved coming to the Bison when you were here. It meant he got to drink a whiskey neat and watch you twirl and rush around the bar. Tonight was slower, though, so he got the privilege of speaking with you, which was rare. 
You pour your Dad his bourbon, finally glancing up at his partner who’s practically ogling at you. You made a conscious effort to avoid his piercing brown eyes. 
Joel Miller was a dream boat, god damn. Every time he glanced in your direction, you would freeze up and stutter out a very jumbled “hello”. He was quite guarded, never much to talk. When he did finally speak, you found yourself reeling over his deep voice. 
“Whatcha want, Mr. Miller?”
His lips twinged, his eyes flicking up to yours. He loves hearing you say that, he thinks to himself.  You hand off the bourbon to your Dad, waiting for a response. 
“Whatever he’s having is fine, sweetheart,” He says plainly, nodding toward the half-empty bottle. Your knees could buckle at the nickname, but you keep your composure. You can’t crumble that easily. 
You three slide into a conversation about their patrolling, what they found that day, and the game plan for tomorrow. You make a sly comment about how they needed to find some meaning in life other than patrol. Your dad laughs, and Joel just stares blankly at you. You instantly want to take back the comment and never speak again, ever. Instead, you just continue drying the glasses you just washed. 
When your dad finished his bourbon, you noticed his expression change from relaxed to pained. 
“You okay there?” You ask, grabbing his glass and placing it in the sink below the counter. He rubs his chest, letting out a deep guttural cough. Joel looks perplexed while you get closer and notice the blood splattering into your dad’s palm. 
“It’s nothing, just a cough,” He manages to say, his voice hoarse. You scan his face, knowing immediately that he’s lying.
“Bullshit, you’re coughing up blood,” You reach towards some towels, tossing them on the counter in front of him, “You should probably go get checked out, Dad.”
Joel quips, “Yeah, don’t need you getting sick when we are out tomorrow. Why don’t you stop by the infirmary before you go home?”
Your Dad just shakes his head, “You two are being dramatic. It’s nothing, I promise.”
Your Dad was known for downplaying his pain and sicknesses. You remember being a little girl traveling with him across the country and every time he got hurt, he’d just suck it up. He shattered his left pinky years ago and he resolved to just chop it off. So that’s what he did. He was lucky it never got infected. But he was known just to blow off all his ailments, reminding you he’s beat all the other odds. 
So instead of fighting with him, you just nod all the while, stealing a long glance at Joel. He’s finishing his drink and you can’t help but watch his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and you fixate on it for a bit too long. 
You’re brought out of the trance when he slams the glass down, his dark brown eyes drooping. Joel always looked tired, but you knew after the day they had, he was actually tired. 
You had a couple more hours at the Bison before you had to close up, so you bid them a farewell, reminding your Dad that you’d be home before he stumbles off to bed. He never slept much, he would just read in the living room until you got home usually. 
Joel waves you a farewell, thanking you quietly for the drink. 
“Don’t be a stranger,” You say as he turns his back to you to head for the door. He turns a bit, giving you a slight smirk as he reaches for the door. 
You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what it’d be like to be with a man. You spent most of your time in Jackson without giving much of the men your age a thought. More than half were taken, anyway. While you let your mind wander, you realize your imagination is placing Joel in the spot of all the made-up situations with this said man. 
-
You lock the bar door behind you, tugging on it to ensure it’s snug in the latch. The air was shifting, the cool warm summer turning into a slightly chilly fall. You wore a long sleeve today, luckily, or else you’d be shivering on your way home. The walk home wasn’t a long one. 
When you reach your front door, you realize the living room light is on. Dad’s awake.
But as you reach to turn the knob, you hear ghastly breathing from the other side. When you swing the door open, you see your Dad in his recliner, his hand over his chest. He’s dry heaving, trying to get out a cough. 
“Hey, hey,” You quickly race to his side, “Are you okay? What’s happening?”
He breathes in deeply, “I just can’t seem to catch my breath. Something isn’t right.”
You have never seen him so panicked. You nod, understanding that your next step is to get him to the infirmary. He should have gone on his way home. You didn’t know if anyone would be there and you surely didn’t know if they would be able to treat his symptoms. 
“Are you in pain?” You ask, grabbing under his arms to lift him out of his chair. He’s wobbly, so you keep your hand under his armpit and use your other free arm to balance him. He shakes his head. 
“Just weak.”
Your heart sinks. Never in your life has your father admitted to feeling weak or sick. It was like as soon as he got home, his body just gave out. You help him into his shoes and start your trek back towards the middle of town. You wish you didn’t have to walk him so far because it felt like with every 5 feet, his lungs were giving out and sending him into a coughing fit. You probably woke the entire town trudging him through the streets. When you get to the front step of the infirmary, you knock as loud as you can. Usually, they had an overnight shift nurse helping, having them watch over whoever was dragged there during the day. Dispensing medicine if need be. You knew a couple of the nurses, most of them your age or a bit older. 
When a familiar face opens the door, you feel a sense of relief. 
“Hey Sidney,” You greet her, sort of pushing your Dad into the room, still keeping your hands wrapped around his center, “Something’s wrong with Pops.”
She reaches out to help you with him, “Oh no, what’s going on?”
“Can hardly breathe,” Is all he can muster out. You look at Sidney, concern spread across your face. She nods, knowingly. 
Sidney was one of the nurses you trusted the most. She gave you stitches when you sliced your hand open on a glass bottle a couple of weeks ago. She was patient and gentle, always checking to see if you were doing alright as she sewed your skin together. She’s a former Firefly, probably in her 40s. She got trained by some doctors years ago so she knew a decent amount about all sorts of medical treatment. 
She takes hold of the situation completely, grabbing your Dad and walking him to a free bed near the door. She gets him to lie down and she starts scrambling for some supplies to do a quick once over of him. He looks pale and for some reason, very small, in the hospital bed. 
“It’s gonna be alright,” You say, poking his arm. You say it for him, but you mainly say it for yourself. He closes his eyes and nods. 
“Always is, kiddo.”
-
The news was not ideal. After observation and some tests, Sidney decided your father probably has pneumonia. The problem was, that Jackson was low on antibiotics and they would have to decide if your Dad’s case was urgent enough to give him some. 
It pissed you off, but you had to hold back your anger. This situation was out of Sidney’s control, but you knew exactly who to raise your voice to. Sadly, the city council was asleep in their beds, as it was 4 a.m. Sidney reassured you that she would ensure your father was looked after until the morning when they could discuss with everyone if it would be okay to give him some of the highly sought-after antibiotics. 
But for now, you should get some rest. 
Your father fussed at you while he was in and out of sleep, telling you that you needed to go home and sleep. Your body was plagued with exhaustion and your brain was hardly functioning. You would need to plead a good case, so even a couple of hours of sleep would do you good. You ask if you could occupy a bed nearby and Sidney agrees with a sympathetic smile. You curl up, trying to clear your brain of your racing thoughts. 
You can’t lose your father, he’s all you have. 
You need to remind the council of all your father does. 
You need him to get better. 
You need him. 
-
“We only have 4 vials of antibiotics,” Maria states, trying not to look you in the eyes. She feels horrible, but she knows deep down the rest of the council will probably reject your father using any. It was going to be a tough decision like this that made most of the people in the council think they were playing God, but it was real life. Would they give your 60-something-year-old father antibiotics for pneumonia or give it to a young child suffering from an infection? They had to think ahead and supplies were scarce. 
You cross your arms, waiting for the next shoe to drop. “And?”
Tommy stands up, knowing you will not like the next sentence. He practically guards Maria with his broad frame. He resembled Joel, with his dark hair and stern eyes. His were a bit softer. 
“We are low on resources, hun. We need to think ahead and ensure that the pros outweigh the cons of giving him one of those vials. You understand?”
“Why was this not a thought in the summer? When it was a good time to go seek some out? I just don’t under-”
“We had that sickness going around over the summer. Lots of people getting fevers. Before we knew it, Dr. Peters realized we were low. I had intentions to get out and try to find more, and trade with some people, but we just haven’t discussed it all yet. There’s a process. It was in the works.”
Your blood is boiling and your patience running out. Each second of arguing was another second your Dad could be closer to death. 
“Well, it’s a shitty fuckin’ process. Where can I go to get more, then? Is there another community we can trade with? A hospital we can scavenge? You guys can’t expect me to sit around and wait for him to get worse.”
Maria looks to Tommy, trying to wrack her brain for a response. Tommy’s lip twitches, knowing exactly what to say. He did not want you to do it, but he knew how you were. You’d do anything for your family. 
“There’s a hospital in Salt Lake that I’ve heard is practically untouched. Fireflies used to reside there and do tests. They probably left behind some supplies.”
You narrow your eyes, “Salt Lake? Isn’t that a whole week away?” 
You start to pace the room, trying to console yourself. You can’t just leave for that long and assume that everyone will take care of your Dad. Tommy places his hands on his hips, trying to figure out a resolution. He liked your Dad, always going to him if he needed help around the commune. Your Dad is always one to offer a helping hand and give solid advice. He didn’t want to watch him die, either. 
“How about this,” Tommy huffs, “How about we give him one of our vials and you and Joel head out to Salt Lake to scavenge that hospital? If we are right in our assumptions, there’s probably a lot of resources there. And Joel’s been there before.”
“Why are you roping Joel into this?” You press, crossing your arms. 
“Joel knows where to go. He can get you there in one piece.”
“Where am I going,” Joel’s presence takes you by surprise. You turn back at the front door of the infirmary, seeing Joel’s disheveled hair sticking up in every direction. He had red cheeks, probably from the jog he did to get there. As soon as he heard about your father, he booked it from the stables to his side. 
Tommy shoots Joel a knowing look, “You and her are gonna go back to Salt Lake. You think they have antibiotics at that hospital you took Ellie to?”
Joel’s visceral reaction sends you. His heart practically stopped when Tommy brought up the hospital. 
You start to sweat when he does, realizing you would have to travel that far with Joel Miller. 
He swallows, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Probably. Why can’t ya just give him what we have?”
Maria shakes her head at his response, “We have a long winter ahead of us, Joel. We have four vials left. This saves us from a council meeting where they shoot down everything. They won’t approve it. If I reassure them that you are going to get some more, they won’t mind if we give him one.”
He huffs, scratching his chin in contemplation. You knew this would not be ideal for him, but you’re willing to do anything, even if you had to do it alone. The four of you stand in silence while Joel wracks his brain for an excuse to say no. None comes to him. 
It’s not that he did not want to help you, he just does not want to relive some trauma with you by his side. He would have to swallow back all his emotions, all the while you would be posted up right next to him. He does not want you to see him falter under pressure.
“She can’t go alone, Joel,” Tommy quips, gesturing towards you. You were shaking, your body reacting before your brain even could. Your nerves were shot.
He shakes his head, “And if they don’t have the supplies?”
You didn’t even think that far. 
“They will,” Tommy says, matter-of-factly, “It’s our best bet. The Fireflies disbanded, there has to be stuff left behind.”
You don’t know how Tommy knows all this, but he must have good sources to know all these things. Joel nods at him, accepting his response. He looks back at you, trying to figure out how you feel about the proposition by reading your face. 
“Does that work for you?” His deep voice isn’t meant to be intimidating, but you flinch anyway at the question. 
“I don’t have much of a choice. My Dad needs the medicine. If you guys think we can make it there and back in one piece, I’ll do it.”
“We will leave tomorrow morning. In the meantime,” Joel waves over Sidney, who’s still sitting by your sleeping and dazed father, “Give him one of those vials.”
-
Joel sacrificing his time and effort for your father was unfathomable to you. Sure, Joel was a great friend of your Dad’s, but he truly didn’t owe you two anything. It made you enamored with him even more. 
As the day shifted into the evening, you sat by your Dad’s bed and waited for the antibiotics to kick in. His body needed rest, you knew that much because he slept more than he probably ever had in his lifetime. 
He was sweating out a fever, so every so often you’d pat his head with a cold rag. He would mumble a quiet “thank you” and then return to snoring. As the sun sets, you welcome Sidney back for her night shift. She checked your Dad’s vitals, telling you his lungs are already sounding a bit better. You stretch and yawn, cracking every bone in your body while you do. You were stuck in the same position for so long, elbows on your knees, your chin propped up by your hands. 
You had a long trip ahead of you, and you couldn’t lie, you were scared half to death. You did not want to come back and find your father dead. You were also terrified about going back outside of Jackson. You spent most of your last 20 years living in the wild and shitty QZ’s. You were always on edge out there, and then you found Jackson. Ever since then, life has been a little more hopeful. You were able to form relationships and have some simple enjoyment, after all this time. 
Your Dad finally wakes up when you start stirring more. His one eye opens first which makes you crack a smile. 
“Mornin’ Pops,” You joke, grabbing his warm hand, “That antibiotic should start working soon. You’ll be better in no time.”
“Yeah,” He croaks, “But I heard you’re going somewhere.”
You bite your lip, afraid to stress him out. You knew he would worry about you, he always did.  
“Yeah, me and Joel are going to get more supplies. Nothing too drastic,” You lie, brushing your thumb over his scarred knuckles, “You trust Joel enough to take care of me?”
It was the first time he laughed in the last 24 hours, “Course he will. He knows how much you mean to me. If he fucks up, he will get a load of me, that’s for sure.”
His voice was reassuring to hear, especially since he’s joking with you. 
“Okay, I believe you,” You mutter, “We leave tomorrow morning, so I need you to be good and get all the rest you can. I want you up and moving when I get back, you hear me?”
“Roger that, kiddo.”
-
“Mornin’ sunshine,” Your tone is sarcastic and Joel can tell. You did not expect to be stuck with Joel Miller alone for a week, especially outside the walls. 
He clears his throat as he finishes packing up his horse. 
“Mornin’,” He grumbles, patting his horse’s mane, “Let’s get you all set up. You’ll be takin’ your Dad’s horse, Ranger. He is already saddled up, just need to get your stuff on there.”
Luckily, you packed light. You brought a couple of changes of clothes, some food, some camping gear, and of course, your gun. 
Joel helps you tie down your bag and ensures all the straps he just put on are tight enough for you. You just watch him, enjoying how just takes control of the situation. He had the father instinct, always making sure everything would be safe and secure for the girls he loved. Or liked. Whatever.
You thank him, grabbing onto the saddle and flinging yourself up onto the horse. Ranger was truly your favorite horse in all of Jackson. He was the best behaved and the biggest. His mane was long and black and he loved to be brushed. You spent a lot of evenings riding him for fun, just enjoying his company. 
Joel gets on his horse, adjusting how he sits before he takes the reigns and guides you towards the main gates of Jackson. 
“You still sure you’re ready for a run like this?”
He’s giving you a chance to back out. But this was now an obligation. If you didn’t do this, you would indebted to everyone. You would be the person to blame if someone’s loved one died. Not really, but you felt that guilt. 
“Readier than I’ll ever be, Joel.”
-
“How is Ellie doing?”
You were burning to make conversation. You needed to rid your mind of all the anxiety surrounding your own life. Joel was too quiet, it made you feel queasy. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You were about 20 miles outside of Jackson, the sun was coming up through the foliage. 
He inhales sharply, “She’s a teenage girl. She’s grumpy.”
You grip onto the reigns of your horse, your body swaying back and forth with the trot. 
“I remember being that young and being constantly annoyed by my Dad’s nagging,” You chuckle, remembering the days of angst, “Are you annoying her, Joel?”
Joel scrunches his face at such allegations. If anything, Ellie was annoying him. 
“Course I’m not! Just… want to make sure she’s doing good. Which she is. Everyone tells me ‘bout how helpful she is.”
You think back to the last interaction you had with Ellie. She had been helping out at the stables when you were in charge of feeding and cleaning the horses before you got the job at the Tipsy Bison. Ellie wanted to know everything you knew, pestering you with silly questions like what their names were and why they were named what they were. 
“She’s very helpful,” You acknowledge, thinking about how enthusiastic she always was about learning, “You raised her right.”
He huffs, “Was hardly me. She’s just smart and raised herself.”
You did not quite understand the history between Joel and Ellie, but you knew Joel was not her biological father. You had no clue how they found each other or when. But you could see the love Joel had for Ellie. You remember him lighting up when he explained to you and your dad how she was the best shot amongst the recruits. 
Joel will probably never indulge you in the specifics of his relationship with Ellie, simply because it’s complicated. He never felt the need to explain himself to anyone but Tommy. 
“You had a hand in some of it, Joel. Give yourself a little credit.”
But Joel was never good at that. He was hard on himself, weary to accredit any of Ellie’s behavior to himself. 
The rest of the ride was occupied with the sound of leaves rustling. Joel spots a fallen tree that he says would be a good eating spot. You agree, hopping down off your horse with ease. You tie his reins up on a nearby branch and start digging through your saddle bag for the apple you packed for yourself. You were sick with unease all day. With everything going on in your life, the last thing on your mind was hunger. Plus, you were alone with a man that you had to put all your trust in. 
You pop a squat on the chipping bark and get out your pocket knife to start cutting the red fruit. Joel gets out a bag of jerky from his pack and finds a spot next to you. He looks over at you, perplexed at your food choice. 
“Just some fruit?” Joel interrogates, instantly knowing your hunger cannot be satiated by apples. No one can be satisfied with only fruit. 
Your stomach churns at your first bite, “Just not that hungry.”
That’s all the explanation he needs. You watch as he starts to munch on his bagged meat, cringing at the sound of his mouth. You try to block it out, but it’s eating away at your brain. You hated the sound of chewing, it was such a stupid pet peeve, but you couldn’t help yourself. Joel is oblivious, probably not even hearing how loud he’s being. You smack his arm out of instinct, something you did to your dad when he was being too obnoxious. 
He looks down at you with furrowed brows and annoyed eyes. 
“You’re eating too loud,” You say, wanting to smack yourself at how stupid it sounds out loud. 
He looks away, completely flabbergasted at the reaction. “Eating too loud? Really?”
You feel embarrassed for letting your brain get the best of you. So you just cut more of your apple off and slowly crunch on it. You try your best not to hyper-fixate on your chewing. When you’re in a trance, lost in your thoughts, Joel nudges you back. He’s getting you back, now. 
“Now you’re chewing too loud,” He jokes, popping another piece of his jerky in his mouth, “Should probably keep it down. So loud you may attract some infected.”
You can’t help but smile at his stupid rebuttal. You give him props for making you feel less foolish. 
“Sorry,” you mumble, eating another slice intentionally loud, “Can’t help myself. They are just so crunchy.”
You hear him giggle, his smile easing your churning stomach. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll forgive you this one time.”
-
You knew the ride to this hospital would be long, but you didn’t realize how barren the landscape would be. You also didn’t realize how bad your ass would hurt. You and Joel finally pull off into some woods when the sun starts to set. Joel acts like he knows exactly how to navigate the woods, guiding his horse deeper and deeper. In between some large trees, you spot a lake. 
“Wanna go swimming?” You question after hours of no conversation. He glances back at you with a sly smirk on his face. When you look to your right, you notice a small path. Joel clicks his tongue for his horse to follow it. You two trot through the leaves, before coming upon a small decrepted cabin.
“This is us,” He states as he halts his horse. 
He had secretly always pictured taking you out here. He could not help but insert you into his small fantasies. Some nights he would imagine what it would be like to have you stick by his side forever. He always felt guilty afterward. 
You look at the building in wonder, completely speechless. You assumed you would be camping on the forest floor, not in an intimate cabin by a lake. You swing your leg over and slide off your saddle. Joel starts to tie up his horse nearby and you follow suit. You continue to look at the cabin, curious as to who kept up with it. It looked well maintained, besides some cobwebs at the peak of the roof. 
“Is this yours?”
He shakes his head, “No. Technically Tommy’s. He goes this way to get to another settlement about 50 miles south. He found this place on a whim and cleaned it up.”
You look around the area, seeing there’s even a fire pit right by the water. It had chairs and stones to outline the charred wood. You could not help but imagine what this place was before Tommy found it. How many fun nights were probably spent here by the original owner? If you had no one to go back to, you would just live here. But the more you think about that scenario, you think about how lonely you would probably get. Maybe if you had someone to stay with you. 
You finally look back at Joel. He’s standing on the stone path with his eyes locked on you. You get self-conscious for a moment, realizing he probably noticed how entranced you were with the surroundings. 
That’s exactly what he was thinking, too. How beautiful you stood in the shadows of the trees, your eyes curiously glancing around like a kid in a candy shop. You had him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it. 
“You good if we stay here overnight? Get back on the road tomorrow?”
How could you ever say no to an offer like that? 
You nod, swallowing back your insecurity, “Yeah, for sure.”
-
Joel could build a good fire. Watching him gather all the wood and place them into a perfect formation. As soon as he lights it, it builds and builds. When the warmth envelopes you, you start to finally feel at ease. Joel sits down with a stick, nudging the fire every so often.
He felt guilty. He felt like he was betraying your father, a man who was trusting him with his daughter. He should not be imagining how a little life in the woods would look like with you. He should not be picturing how beautiful you would look underneath him. He should not be having these devious thoughts about you. His eyes are trained on the flames as they build, trying to push those daydreams away. 
When his sleeve lifts as he toys with the charred wood, you notice the watch on his wrist. It looks ancient, the face of it shattered. You don’t realize you’re staring at it until he snatches his hand away from your view. 
“Sorry,” You retract, sitting further into the chair, “Your watch is broken.”
He places the stick next to his foot, finally out of his head for a moment, “Yeah, I’m aware.”
You were so stupid. You know not to pry further, knowing there’s probably a story and you don’t feel like you’re at a stage with Joel Miller to dive deeper. He notices how small you making yourself, and it makes him feel bad. He never wants to make you insecure. 
“Your necklace,” He starts, trying to place your mind somewhere else. It was a feature on your body that he noticed ages ago, but he never tried to beg the question, so this seemed like a great time to move the subject along. “Is it a moon?”
You reach up to your throat, feeling for the necklace you never took off. It feels like he almost wants to see if you will spill your story first. He is bad at reading women, sometimes. Most of the time. 
“Yeah, it was my sister’s.”
He feels stupid, instantaneously. As soon as those words fell from your lips, he put his face in his hands. 
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
Your feelings towards what happened 20 years ago were drastically different than how you feel now. You could still feel the horror and the pain you felt, but it wasn’t so gut-wrenching anymore. It honestly doesn’t even feel like it happened to you. 
You drop the crescent moon charm from your hands, “No, it’s okay. She died on outbreak day. She was a bit older than me, her name was Reagan.”
He looks up at you and just nods, taking in the information. You don’t know if it’s a gesture for you to continue to talk, but you take it as just that. 
“Her and my mom were at one of her soccer games when all hell broke loose. From what I heard, she was bit by one of her teammates and when me and my Dad were packing up our things to get out of there, I grabbed some of her stuff. A necklace, a sweatshirt, and her favorite pair of sneakers. I don’t know why. But yeah, this necklace is the only thing that survived 20 years. Sweatshirt got too small, shoes got too torn up.”
You don’t even notice the tears pricking in your eyes until you blink. You don’t even remember what she looks like, her face is kind of jumbled in your memory. You remember her hair though, long and brown and super curly. Joel just listens, his eyes trained on your hands as you nervously rub them together. When you peer up at him, you see the mutual pain written on his face. 
He thinks to his beautiful Sarah. His eyes fall to his broken watch. The pain is still very palpable. 
“‘m glad we have somethin’ from our people. Somethin’ to remember them by, ya’ know?”
You scan his broken watch and nod timidly. “Yeah, something to remember them by.”
-
You stand up after eating some more food you packed, ensuring you’re somewhat nourished before you go to sleep. Joel stares at the fire, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He knows he has to sleep, but he knows you need it more. He’s willing to give up his hours for yours. 
“You want me to do first watch?” You quiz, hoping to get the answer no. Instead, he just shrugs. You cross your arms, a cool shiver going down your back as you step away from the fire. 
“I’ll start first,” He mumbles, grabbing his poking stick, “There’s a bed in there all ready for you. Get some rest, we got a long day tomorrow.”
You respond with a slight wag of your head, “Okay, goodnight, Joel.”
You turn on your heels and head towards the front door of the cabin. You creak the door open. It’s pitch black so you step back onto the small porch to grab the lantern Joel lit a while ago. You slowly creep through the one-room cabin, placing the lantern on the small table by the door. It lit up most of the room so you got a great look at the wooden framed bed, waiting for you to lay upon it. 
You feel a pang of guilt making Joel sit outside to guard you as you slept. You knew you needed rest. You also knew it would start getting colder and colder and that fire would die eventually. 
Joel could handle himself, after all. You would just have to push your worry aside. When you curl up onto the hard mattress, you think back to the last time you were left to trust another man to look after you as you slept. It was a traumatizing night, so instead of worrying yourself, you close your eyes and remind yourself that Joel is safe. Dad trusts Joel. Joel is a good man. 
Sleep eventually takes over, your soft snores rattling off the wooden walls. 
After a couple of hours, the shivering takes over Joel’s body, so he creeps into the cabin. The lantern is dimmer, slowly running out of fuel. He shakes his head, smiling to himself at your disregard for resources. He walks over to the small wood-burning oven, opening the door to it as quietly as he can. You don’t even stir. You’re a deep sleeper, he would remember. 
He starts a fire with the old coals, warming up the small space. Once he stands up from his squat, he hisses at the crack of his knees. He glances over at you, making sure he did not wake you. Nothing. 
You were a peaceful sleeper, your mouth slightly ajar. To Joel, you were always so beautiful. Not even just your looks, but your kind and reserved nature. You always gave him a delighted smile when he looked your way. You were dedicated to always being there for your father, which would always melt his cold heart. He would always watch you with a careful eye, praying that you would somehow get older or him, younger. He hated himself for admiring you so often, especially since he respected your father so much. But you were right there. 
He sat himself in the old recliner chair near the door, peaking out the window every so often. He would always find himself training his eyes back on you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly. 
It takes everything in him not to curl up next to you. 
-
The second day starts off a bit rough. 
When you wake up in the early morning hours, you take notice of a sleeping Joel in the corner of the room. You spring up, loudly rattling the bed frame. It sends Joel jumping out of his skin, his eyes flying open to look at you.
You are panting like you just ran a mile. 
“Jesus Christ, girl,” He barks, his tone tired but also vicious, “Thought someone had you at gunpoint.”
“You were sleeping!”
“Shit, yeah I was, wasn’t I?” His tone is more relaxed, sort of annoyed. He rubs his eyes, glancing outside. Your horses were still there and it doesn’t seem like you guys have been ransacked. 
You clench your fists, “You’re lucky we didn’t get shot in our sleep or something.”
He rolls his eyes, slowly rising from the chair he took over, “That’s a little dramatic, sweetheart. We are fine.”
After that comment, you did not want to talk to Joel Miller. 
You also start to question if you can trust him. He should’ve woken you up to take charge of the watch, but instead, he ignorantly fell asleep and risked your life. 
When you pack up to leave, he realizes how rattled you are. He wants to apologize, but he’s too stubborn to do so. You were being dramatic. But he shouldn’t have said that. He should’ve kept that comment to himself. He was never really good at holding his tongue, always saying the first thing on his mind. 
-
When the sun sets on the second day, Joel promises you two should be in Salt Lake the next afternoon. The whole day pretty much consisted of you two bickering about state capitals. He swears the capital of Pennsylvania is Philadelphia. 
“It’s not, it’s Harrisburg,” You would say. 
You also talked about times before the Infection. He mentions his daughter, Sarah, telling you about how she used to play soccer and she loved going to the Texas State Fair. It makes your heart happy to hear him light up about her, but it makes you want to cry hearing a father talk about his dead child. You can’t imagine that type of pain, and you hope you never do. He doesn’t even know why he’s suddenly baring his soul to you, but he starts to feel like his walls are falling away and he’s comfortable around you. 
He tells you about how he plays the guitar, which you lock onto quickly. 
“You’ll have to show me how good you are,” You smile, imagining Joel Miller strumming along to some folksy song you request. He can only imagine what type of music you would want to hear from him. 
“When we get home,” He mutters, “I'll give you a performance.”
“I cannot wait.”
The conversation with you was easy. You could get anything out of him, pretty much. You were a lot like your father, but softer. He enjoyed your company a bit more. Your laugh was infectious and you were a lot easier on the eyes, of course. When you two stop for a break, he watches as you look for four-leaf clovers on the forest floor. When you find one, you pick it up and bring it over to his hunched-down frame. 
“My mom used to say they were for love and luck,” You explain, “Think you need it for both.”
He knew you were joking by the way you giggle and return to your spot on the ground. He just shakes his head and sticks the clover in his jacket pocket. 
-
He was dreading being back in Salt Lake. He doesn’t want to relive that day when Ellie was practically ripped from him. It sent him spiraling just thinking about all the outcomes that could’ve transpired that day. 
He contemplates telling you for a few brief seconds. 
He wouldn’t have much to lose, especially now that everything is said and done. But then fear takes over and he wonders, would you judge him for it?
He imagines how you would react. How your nose would probably scrunch up, how your disposition towards him would soon contort into horror. You would probably call him a monster. You would probably never look at him the same way, with that beautiful smile and attentive gaze.
“You okay, Joel?”
You two were positioned on the edge of some woods off a dirt road. Joel didn’t want to attract anyone with fire, so you two decided you would just camp on the ground near the highway you would end up following to get into the city. 
“‘M all good,” He practically whispers, “Just tired. You mind gettin’ first watch?”
You just silently nod, watching him rise from his spot and move over to the sleeping bags you two had set up when you arrived. You watch as he awkwardly wiggles his large frame into a small sack. It makes you giggle a bit. He positions himself with his back to you, his front facing into the woods. He can’t spend his time staring at you like he would like to, he needs to sleep. 
You realize he has a leaf stuck on the back of his head. You couldn’t help yourself, it was going to bother you for as long as you were awake. You stand up and slowly creep up to him. 
You squat down and pluck the leaf out of his thick curls. His head snatches back at you, knitting his brows together in confusion. 
Secretly deep down, you just wanted to find a reason to touch him. 
“Can I help you?”
You give him a shit-eating grin, “Yeah, you just got leaves in your hair. It was going to bother me if I didn’t get it out. You’re very, very welcome.”
He rolls his eyes, “Can I sleep now?”
“Don’t know, I’m already getting bored without you glaring at me.”
You were now on a mission to annoy him, he guesses. 
Without thinking, he responds with a comment that would stick with you all night. 
“Yeah, you like it when I look at you, don’t ya?”
-
The homestretch was only about another 20 miles. You and Joel had made good time, only taking about three days to get to the hospital. After the subtle flirting with Joel the night before, you got a little more ambitious with your advances. 
Before you two took off to get to your destination, you asked Joel if you could change your clothes. You had mud all over your jeans and your shirt was reeking of body odor. The natural deodorants that were handmade in Jackson only did so much. 
“Yeah, make it quick,” He orders, pointing to a more private area of the camp, “There’s some bushes over there.”
“I’m not getting dressed in a bush, Joel. Just look away,” You test, already shrugging off your flannel. He notices your bold move, instantly peeling his eyes away from your direction. This can not be happening to him right now. 
“What the hell,” He murmurs, his hands propped up on his hips, “You’re doin’ this on purpose.”
You feel your cheeks heat up, “Doing what on purpose?”
“Testin’ me. Me and my patience.”
You throw your shirt over your head and grab one of your spare ones from your pack, “Well, if it’s a test, you’re passing with flying colors, Miller.”
He glances back at you without even really thinking, spotting you in your bra with a shirt covering your eyes. It’s almost like when you tell a child not to press a button, and it makes them want to do it even more.
He wanted to keep looking. 
“Fuck,” He says under his breath, trying to push those types of thoughts out of his mind. 
You shimmy off your pants, folding them as soon as you get them off your legs. You needed a shower so bad, you felt so filthy. 
“You think we could stop back at the cabin on the way home? I want to bathe.”
Thinking about you naked and taking a bath made his dick hard. 
“Yes,” He manages to say, “Hurry up, please!”
You grin at his frustration, “Fine, fine. I’m almost done.”
-
You and Joel trot along an abandoned highway, cars littering every lane. It was nothing new to you. You have seen plenty of cities in your lifetime. Each time was a bit different, but for the most part, they were all the same. Riddled with infected and bombed to shit. 
You think back to when Tommy said Joel had been here before. Your mind starts to wonder, and being that you still had a couple of hours before you got to see the actual hospital, you decide to speak up and ask. 
“When was the last time you were here?”
He thinks for a second. He was waiting for these questions. 
“Over a year ago.”
You shake your head, “Was there a reason?”
You had no business prying into Joel’s life, but you felt like after spending days with him, there was some kinship. Maybe even a friendship.
“Ellie’s mom was a Firefly. They had a base camp out here,” He explains, but would he go further? Would he spill all the beans?
It’s technically not his story to tell. But then again, Ellie didn’t even have the truth, so it was a story only he knew. 
You wait before responding, “Did you find her?”
“Who?”
“Ellie’s mom,” You press, glancing around some cars. You are trying to act like you didn’t care, but you could tell from the moment you entered the outskirts of the city, Joel was plagued with the weight of the atmosphere. His shoulders got heavier, his eyebrows further knitted together. He was tense. 
“No, she’s dead. So I brought her home,” He says, half-bending the truth. He’s lying, but not really. Ellie’s mom was dead but that was never the reason they came out here. He just wants to say it, but his chest feels like a weight is pushing down, almost cracking his ribs. He swallowed the guilt. 
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
You didn’t have much else to say, letting the silence eat away at the prickle of your arm hairs as they stood up. You try to relax, but now that you are in the city, it feels real. You traveled all this way for medication so Jackson would not shun you. It sounded kind of stupid, coming all this way in hopes of a stocked Firefly hospital. 
You also traveled all this way with Joel Miller. You managed to speak to him without tripping over every word and poking fun at him. You watched him sleep at night, looking so peaceful in the woods surrounding him. You try to think about the last time you saw him smile. You saw him differently, now. He came all this way to help you and your dad. He is risking a lot, disregarding his duties back home, just so he can be with you and protect you. 
You ponder if things will be different when you get home. Maybe he would talk to you more when he came to the Tipsy Bison. Maybe he would wave back at you when you saw him around town. 
You secretly hoped being next to him for so long would change your relationship with him. 
Joel starts to ride next to you, studying your face as you stare forward. 
“What are you thinkin’ bout so hard over there?” He poses, watching your face twist when he speaks up. 
You lick your lips, “Thinking about what it’s gonna be like when I get home.”
“What do ya’ mean?”
You halt your horse to look over at him. He does the same. 
“We came all this way and I am scared when we get back, you won’t want to talk to me anymore.”
He shakes his head, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, “Kiddo, your dad’s my patrol partner. ‘Course, I’ll still talk to you. You’re always around.”
The nickname makes you cringe. You don’t want to be a kid to him. 
“Right, of course.”
-
When you get to the edge of the city, Joel starts explaining the game plan. How you will get to the hospital, do your sweep as quick as you can, and don’t meander around. He also explains how the exit plan is to drop everything, no matter what, and return to the horses. You see someone? Run. 
You want to say you know how to handle yourself, but you resist and just nod in understanding. 
To your surprise, you two do not run into any hoards. You turn a corner and spot a couple of infected twitching near an old school, and you two carefully back up and go up another block to avoid them altogether. You two don’t say anything to each other as you spot the hospital in the distance. Joel just points forward, having you trot at his side. 
You pull out your gun when you start to hear some clicking nearby. Joel gestures to you to be quiet and continues to the front of the hospital. You two ride your horses to the ambulance drop-off, parking them there. When you jump down, you start to grab your pack so you can fill it with whatever supplies you find. Joel does the same, throwing his leather backpack over his shoulder. You check the magazine of your gun and take off the safety. 
“Okay, we stay close to each other,” He explains in a hushed tone, “Grab whatever you think we need.”
You wiggle your head in agreement. He raises his rifle as you two enter the side door. The hospital is quiet besides the wind blowing through some shattered windows. You click on your flashlight that is attached to your backpack, making sure it’s pointed forward. The main corridor leads you down to some triage rooms and nurse's stations. Joel gestures to you to check out some triage rooms. You find some bandages and some tongue presses. You grab the entire box of bandages and stuff them in your bag. When you return to the hall, Joel is stuffing some of his finds in his pack. 
“No meds yet,” He grumbles. You two press forward, keeping your steps silent. You find some lab rooms off the main hallway and you two scope out each room carefully, your guns still drawn and at the ready. You find more items; some gloves, masks, and some scissors. You pick them up, stuffing them in your back. 
You hear movement from behind you and quickly spin. It’s just Joel, holding a couple of vials of medication. You rush towards him, using your light to see what the vials read. 
levofloxacin 
amoxicillin
“Jackpot,” You murmur, “Any more?”
He grabs a baggie sitting on a table nearby, “Not that I saw.”
You continue searching, not finding much of anything in the drawers. A lot of the stuff is picked through. 
You point to a central staircase, “Wanna go up?”
“Yeah, right behind you.”
Joel was reeling, spotting some areas where blood was splattered across the walls as he walked through the hospital. It was terrifying to put himself back in this exact spot. It felt like a fever dream. Now he had you with him, another person he cared too much about to admit to anybody, let alone himself. He cared about you in a whole different way than he cared about Ellie. 
You trail up the stairs, finding some old labs and nurse's stations. All were picked through. You couldn’t help but notice the blood all over the floor in some areas. You try to figure out what could have transpired here, but you don’t even try to beg the question to Joel. With the look on his face, you are afraid to say much of anything. 
Something bad happened here and he was a witness to it. 
It made you want to hurry up and spare his feelings. Instead of taking careful and methodical steps, you run room to room searching drawers and counters for anything of value. You find some alcohol swabs, safety pins, and some wrist splints. When you get to the last room in the hallway you’re in, you hit the jackpot. It’s a cabinet with some vials. 
You start to quietly read them off to Joel who’s standing on the threshold of the room. 
“Grab them all,” He says, pulling his pack off his shoulder so you can put some into his, “We can find use for ‘em.”
You also find some sutures and unopened syringes. You wish you could get down on your knees and thank whatever god is up there for blessing you with everything. You don’t believe in that though, so instead you excitingly grab Joel’s arm and shake it. 
“Let’s get this all home,” You smile, pressing your fingers harder into his bicep, “Maybe celebrate with something strong from the bar.”
Then you hear it. 
Click. Click. Click. 
Joel grabs your arm back, shoving you behind him. He slings his pack over his shoulder and you do the same. You never had many issues with killing infected, but you did not know what you were dealing with. It was dark and all too quiet for too long. Joel creeps forward, his gun drawn forward to peek out the door. When you do the same, he tucks you back behind him. 
Lining the hallway is about 3 clickers. Your stomach drops as they slowly make their way to the sounds you two made seconds ago. Joel glances back at you, his face very serious and stern. 
You can read the look on his face and being that you dealt with these fuckers before, you know that you need to be silent. He looks back down the hall, spotting an exit in a staircase that’s slightly blocked by one of the clickers. He waves you along as he slowly tiptoes down the hallway. You get closer and closer to the first clicker and your gun is trained right at them as you keep your distance. You can tell by the clothing that it was a woman at one time, the infection growing out of every crevice of her body. 
She clicks and clicks, but does not attack you. You and Joel continue, not making a sound as you shuffle past the next one. But once you get close to the one closest to the door, something snaps and it’s like they all realize exactly all at once. One squeals and the others follow suit. Joel yells for you to run, but you don’t budge, emptying your gun into the closest one. It crumbles to the ground. With that one down, Joel grips your wrist tightly and flings you towards the door. You two rush out as Joel lights up the hallway with gunfire. 
You now know that you’re attracting every infected in a mile radius so time is of the essence. You practically fall down the stairs trying to get to the bottom. Joel does not like how fast you moving, pressing you to run faster. You two sprint down the hallway as two runners come full speed at you from an opposing hallway. You try to shoot but your gun is empty. You scream for Joel to do something and he puts them down expertly. He’s spot on even with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You find the door you came in from and quickly make your way to Ranger. He seems sort of spooked so you try to gingerly climb up him, grabbing his reigns from the pole you tied him to. Joel is quick to mount his horse. He pulls his horse back, guiding it to head back the way you guys came. 
You follow suit, hearing stirring from all around you as your hair whips in the wind. You are not worrying about the noise you two are making now, galloping down the once-busy streets of Salt Lake City. 
“Don’t stop til’ I say so!” Joel calls out. You can hardly hear with your heartbeat in your ears and the wind against your ear drum. 
You get to the edge of the city after about 20 minutes of dodging left-behind cars and random barriers. You get to the point where the foliage takes over and the infected taper off. You don’t realize it until you start slowing down and your heart gets back to its normal pace, you’re freezing. 
You yell out for Joel, who’s still going quite fast. He halts completely, letting you catch up with his step. 
“We have to stop, I’m freezing.”
You weren’t wearing all your layers and you knew it would be detrimental if you didn’t stop to wrap up before you two continued your journey. Joel nods, trotting off the main part of the road into some woods. 
When you get off your horse, you can feel Joel’s eyes lock onto your vibrating body. 
“Jesus, girl,” He dismounts, wrapping his reigns around a nearby branch, “The wind do you that much damage?”
You can’t help but laugh as you rifle through your pack to find your extra layers. You can remember packing two thermals, but with the way you’re shaking, you can’t even grip onto the clothes to move them around to search. You don’t even realize Joel has come to your side, you only notice when he nudges your side with his three fingers. You move out of his way so he can look, but you can’t help but feel the warmth his gentle touch gives you on your hip. 
He pulls out a thermal, handing it out to you. 
“Just put it over your other long sleeve,” He instructs, digging for another layer for you. You take his advice and throw it over your head. When your head pops through the neck hole, you spot him smirking at you. 
“If you don’t warm up soon, I may have to share my body heat so we can get back on the road,” Joel jokes, watching you pull your hair out of the back of your long sleeve. You didn’t hate the sound of that, truthfully. 
“Guess I will try my best not to warm up then.”
He shakes his head, grabbing onto your other thermal, “You can’t say stuff like that to me, darling.”
“Why not?”
Joel has slipped up a couple of times already, he wasn’t planning on giving in. But the teasing was fun and light-hearted. He knew in his heart it was not going to turn into anything. 
Right?
“Because I don’t think it’s a very good idea for us to talk like that to one another,” He explains, stepping back as you add the other shirt onto your already warming body, “May lead us somewhere we can’t come back from.”
You swallow, “Maybe I’d like that.”
-
It takes you a day and a half to get back to the cabin. Joel promised that you two could spend a whole day there if need be. You two were physically and mentally exhausted. The horses needed rest too, you could tell Ranger was beat. 
When you arrive on the property, Joel makes sure to scope out a radius before you two settle in. Ever since the sly passes you made at him, he’s been more quiet. You can tell he’s deep in thought. Maybe it wasn’t about you, but he had something on his mind. 
You use the fire stove to warm up some water from the lake to give yourself a quick “bath”. You just used an old rag and some bar soap to scrub your limbs, trying to get off all the caked-on dirt. Joel stayed outside by the fire, cooking up some squirrels he was able to trap. You stood in your undergarments, lathering your skin, watching him from the window as he poked at the fire. 
You felt a bit better once you were clean. The growl in your stomach was dull and kind of painful. You needed to eat, so you got your dirty clothes back on and headed outside to prop yourself up next to Joel. 
When you open the cabin door, his head snaps over to you. 
“Howdy, cowboy,” You gleam, walking down to the stump next to him. You couldn’t help but flirt now. It was funny to watch him squirm, the glint in his eyes not hard to notice. 
“You all clean?”
You nod, giving him a cheeky smile. “Yeah, now you go get yourself all cleaned up.”
He grabs his stick poker, “Don’t got any soap.”
“Use mine.”
Joel stops his motion immediately to train his eyes back on you. “You want me to smell like you?”
“Well, I smell delicious, so why not?”
He scans your body with his eyes, “Cause if we get home and your Dad smells your soap on me, he’ll put it bullet between my eyes.”
You know he’s being dramatic, finding any excuse to opt out of using the soap you just used on your body. 
“So, what you’re saying is,” You clear your throat before continuing, “If my dad wasn’t your friend, you’d lather yourself with my soap?”
He contemplates for a moment, “Yeah, and other things.”
Your heart stops beating for a second. Joel can not help but smirk at your reaction. He was playing with fire, literally and figuratively. The tension between you two was so heavy, that you do not think you could even take a deep breath in. 
He stands up from his spot next to you. “Why don’t ya eat, sweet thing? I have to clean myself up, I guess.”
-
Joel can not do this. 
You were his friend’s daughter. Sure you were grown, beautiful, strong-willed, and everything he could want and more but he could not take advantage of you. The only way he felt this way right now was because tensions were so high back in Salt Lake. You two have spent a lot of time together, the hormones… what the fuck is he thinking?
You sit by the fire, your stomach doing back flips as you think about Joel in the cabin, by himself, practically half naked. 
Why were you doing this to yourself?
Your heart is racing faster than it ever has. No clicker, no stranger, nothing has made you this nervous. Your hand reaches for the door handle, but before you can turn it, Joel rips open the door. 
“What do you think you’re doing?”
You stand there, dumbfounded. “I-I don’t know.”
He’s standing over you, his chest rising faster the more you keep your eyes trained on him. He has a green flannel on, the top couple of buttons undone. You lift your hand to touch the skin peeking through, but he stops your movements before you can make contact. You note the scent of wood burning in the cabin and it’s a lot warmer than you left it. Joel must have started the stove again. 
“We can’t.”
You shake your head, “No, we can’t, can we?”
You two know better. You know better. You know better. 
You are breathing in each other’s spaces. You don’t even want to look him in the eyes. His arm snakes around your midsection, pulling you forward into the cabin. At that moment, you knew that you two didn’t know any better. 
It’s almost like you two silently made the decision. 
“We can’t tell anyone about this, sweet girl,” He whispers, his hands still firmly on your back. You could not resist this temptation anymore. He was right in front of you, wanting you just as badly as you wanted him. 
Your eyes glance up at his dark sultry gaze, “It’s our little secret.”
His hand reaches up, gracing your chin with his touch. When he dips down to meet your height, you finally get bold and extend your hand up and around his neck. Your lips connect and you feel like a million little butterflies explode in your stomach. You had never desired a kiss from anyone as much as you did with Joel. 
He’s eager and impatient, though. He’s not as soft as you imagined for a man who hardly spoke. He just wants to feel you everywhere, all at once. His mouth melts into yours, his tongue exploring every inch of yours. He’s moving you around the room, stumbling over furniture and shoes as he backs you into the large wooden bed frame. 
“So fuckin’ perfect,” He mumbles into your lips as soon as he lifts you up onto the mattress. It catches you by surprise, mainly because you never expected him to manhandle you in this way. He’s hungry for every inch of you. After all these months of secretly pining for him and him not giving you any positive response, you never anticipated something like this happening. Especially at a time like this. 
“Joel,” You whine, pulling him down on top of you as you fall back into the flannel blankets, “I need you everywhere.”
He grins peppering kisses down your neck, “Don’t worry, I will treat you so fuckin’ good. Been wantin’ you for so long.”
It was so filthy and hot. Your dad’s patrol partner, his best friend. Keen to make you feel good? And wanting it for a while? You must be imagining his words because you can’t even comprehend the situation. 
But it’s true. Joel’s secretly been watching you when you’re not looking. When you sling drinks on Friday nights, he watches you from a booth in the corner. Tommy’s caught him a couple of times, smacking him and reminding him that you were off limits. When you came to his house with extra pot pie or soup, he would watch you walk away from his house from his living room window. 
This taboo yearning kept him up at night. But now, he has you alone and he needs a taste. 
He pulls back to look at your face, “Are you sure you want me?”
You can’t help but giggle a bit. 
“Joel, I’ve been wanting you for longer than I would like to admit,” You purse your lips as you bring your hand up to trace his collarbone, “Think about you all the time.”
It was the truth. Your mind was taken up but all his little sly comments. The way he would drop anything to help you or your dad. His beautiful brown eyes didn’t help one bit either.
“My god, girl…Gonna have me cumming in my jeans like a teenager.”
He returns to laying kisses all along your body. It started with wet kisses down your neck, only for it to trail right where your shirt begins, right below your collarbones. You push him back for a moment, taking your shirt off over your head. He watched you carefully, ensuring there was no hesitancy with your actions. He wanted to be absolutely positive that this is what you wanted. 
As soon as you reach for the clasp of your bra, Joel grabs your arms away. 
“Let me,” He mumbles, letting his fingers trace along the seam of the black fabric before using his right hand to undo the back. With him this close to you again, you inhale sharply, catching the scent of your soap. 
“See you took up my offer,” You tease, letting your bra fall down your shoulders, “Did you get clean just for this, Miller?”
He catches a glimpse of you under the bra and his mind goes blank. You notice his change in disposition and decide it’s best to discard every other article of clothing completely. You struggle to get your jeans off, so he helps by practically ripping them off your legs. He can’t help but spot the soak undies attached to your jeans. When you are bare under him, he gawks at you for a moment. 
“A beautiful woman like you,” He shakes his head, biting his lip. He unbuckles his pants before he stands and shoves them down his legs. While he’s making an effort to get as naked as you, you start unbuttoning his flannel. He watches you take your time, thumbing each button slowly. He tilts your head back up, his eyes leering at you for a moment. “And you want someone like me?”
You know he’s probably in his own head, so you feel the need to prove to him, that yes this is what I want. 
You grab onto his neck and pull him back down into a passionate kiss. When you notice him give in, you use all your might to push him sideways and onto his back next to you. You mount his lap immediately, holding him down with your body weight. Your soaked slit trudges over his large hard-on while you dip your head to capture his lips. You feel his hands trail up the sides of your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He finds your boobs, palming them with his warm calloused hands. You were extra sensitive so as soon as his fingers find your nipples, you’re moaning into his mouth. 
When your hips jet forward, his tip slides between your pussy lips. The sensation sends him into overdrive, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He’s so fucking big. 
“No foreplay, you just wanna grind your pussy right onto my cock?” His question sends shockwaves through your body and you raise your hips up off his crotch. You kneel over him, anticipating to rotate your pelvis back onto him, but he has other ideas. 
Because Joel has been thinking about what you taste like for too long. He can’t just fuck you. He lays back, all the while, dragging you up to his chest so your pussy is hovering over his pursed lips. 
“Joel, what are you doing?”
You feel his hot breath huff onto your slick center, “I’m gonna devour this beautiful pussy, first. Need to get you warmed up.”
Without any warning, he wraps his arms around your thighs and pushes your center closer to his outstretched tongue. You gasp when he starts to run his tongue up and down your slit. You can’t help but settle around his face, your knees feeling like they may already give out. 
You’ve never sat on someone’s face and watched them eat you out like a starved man. But Joel is precise with his motions, his mouth wrapping around your clit. When he starts to suck, the suction noise makes you whimper and shake. You have only ever cum by your own hand, so when the familiar heat rises in your stomach, you know instantly this is going to be the best sex you’ve ever had in your life. 
Joel is a very easy man to please. He thoroughly enjoys watching women crumble above him, their orgasms surging through their bodies while his tongue is pressed into them. But with you, he wants to drudge it out of you over and over again. You’re so magnetic on top of him, your head thrown back in pleasure. Your hands rest on your shoulders as you grind down on him, your peak teetering the edge. He shimmies his hand in between your thighs and begins to use his fingers in you, just to drive you crazier. He’s fucking up into you with his pointer and middle fingers, managing to latch onto your clit while he does. 
When you tumble into bliss, Joel moans into you, egging on your spasms. You lurch forward, dragging your center off his drenched lips. Your legs are limp as you try to crawl up the bed. Joel rolls over, creeping up the bed with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up onto some of the pillows. 
“Do you need a break?” He asks, his hands feeling up your bare, still kind of shaking, thighs. You shake your head “yes” and breathe out loudly. Your body is covered in a light sheen, the sweat pooling around your hairline. Joel lets you take a moment, making sure you are completely ready for him. 
When you finally meet his eyes, your stomach fills with butterflies. He’s admiring you from his position, his eyes not finding yours until he’s done checking out your bare chest. You giggle, tugging on his wrists. He takes up your advances, positioning himself above you. He’s caging you in with his tanned strong arms, only allowing you to really move your upper body. You tangle your hands through his messy dark peppered curls, which makes him sigh. He secretly loved it when women felt through his hair. 
“Fuck me,” He groans as he reaches down between you, grabbing ahold of his hard member. You watch as he drags it through your heat, gathering all your wetness before teasing your entrance. 
“Joel, please.”
He smirks, pushing in just his tip, “Please what, baby girl? You want me to give you all of it?”
You are already overstimulated after your last orgasm and you are a bit nervous to imagine what all of it is. You nod, though, because the stretch is already so delicious. 
“Please, Joel, please. I need it,” You whine, knowing how desperate you sound. It’s music to Joel’s ears. 
“Shh, baby,” He eases in further, “I told you I’m gonna treat you real good. Gonna treat this pussy, so fuckin’ good.”
When he’s fully sheathed in you, your nails are digging into his shoulders. When he eases back to pull out some to ensure you can take it, you’re a moaning mess. It only eggs him on, feeling how slick you are and how tight you are around him. 
“That’s right baby, take all of me,” He says as he lifts himself off you. You have nothing to grip onto now, except the sheets that line the queen-sized bed. Joel wants to watch himself slip out of you and go back into you with ease. You love the friction, but you know you need more. 
You don’t know how, but it’s like he reads your mind. He starts to increase his pace, holding onto the back of your thighs as he drills into you. The curvature of his dick hits exactly where no man could ever reach. 
“Oh my god, fuck Joel! Fuck!”
Your words only encourage him to go harder and faster.
“Keep screamin’ my name, baby doll.”
The sweat is dripping down his face with how much effort he’s putting into fucking you. You’re floored at how quickly your orgasm builds again, the sounds of him plowing into you alone sends you into overdrive. 
As soon as you start to vibrate under him, Joel takes that as a great time to start thumbing at your clit. You feel every one of your nerve endings burning with such rapture, that you can’t even say anything. You’re just howling, no coherent words even coming out. Your vision goes white.
The scene is something out of the old pornos Joel used to watch. You’re writhing under him, the orgasm practically sending you cross-eyed. You reach up to anchor yourself down and the only thing you can find to grab is Joel’s forearm. 
“Yes, Joel!”
His hips continue to snap into yours as you squeeze his cock with your gyrating hips. He’s fucking you through it, watching your face contort. Your grip on his arm hurts, but he does not care. It’s unbelievably hot to watch the girl he has adored from afar cumming around him. Over and over. 
The scene is enough to have him chasing down his own high. The feeling of your cunt gripping onto him so tight, while his name is chanted from your lips, the cum practically shoots out of him before he has time to grab his shaft and pull out. He does not empty himself in you though, quickly prying himself out of your weeping hole and spilling out the rest onto your stomach. 
“Shit.”
You don’t even realize what happened, not caring about really anything except for how wonderful and high you feel. Joel tumbles onto his side, half of his body resting on yours. His mouth is close to your ear so he whispers it to you, his voice shaky. 
“I came inside you.”
You lick your lips, trying to regain some saliva in your mouth, “I do not care, Joel.”
He does not prefer that answer, but he accepts it for the time being. You could not feel your face at the moment, you did not have time to worry yourself over Joel cumming inside you. It was not the first time someone did that. 
Joel rolls off the bed, his legs feeling wobbly with his first steps. He’s still half hard and stumbling over to the bowl of water he just used to clean off himself. He grabs a clean rag and soaks it in the soapy water. The least he could do was clean up his mess. 
You watch him trudge over to you, the cum still pooled on your stomach and a bit in your belly button. 
Joel places the warm towel on your lower tummy, wiping up his mess. 
“Thanks,” You manage to say, your post-orgasm haze wearing off a bit. Now you’re just cold and exhausted. You shiver as soon as he removes the towel from your buzzing body. He notes it immediately and grabs the blanket that had been kicked to the floor. He lays it over you, making sure your full nude body is covered by the chilly air. 
“I need to go take a leak, I’ll be right back.”
You try to stay awake. But as soon as he gets some clothes on and heads outside to relieve himself, you’re lulled to sleep by the sounds of the rustling woods that surround the cabin. 
-
When you slowly open your eyes, you instantly notice how dry your mouth is. The itchy fabric of the blanket is tickling your bare limbs as you shift. Joel’s not beside you. 
You sit up, glancing around the cabin. His stuff is still here, but he is not. You keep the scratchy blanket wrapped around you as you plant your bare feet on the wooden floor. As soon as you take your first step forward towards the front door, it slowly swings open. 
Joel stands there, fully clothed, cheeks reddened from the cold outdoors. 
“Mornin’,” He says with a sleepy voice, “Got up early to get the horses fed and saddled up.”
All you remember is him going to pee outside last night, right before you fell asleep. “Did you ever come to bed last night?”
“Yeah, only got a couple of hours of sleep. You took up most of the bed.”
You clear your throat, becoming hyper-aware suddenly that you are very naked under the blanket. Joel tries not to notice your natural sensuality when you wake up. Sleepy eyes, swollen lips, slightly tangled hair. Even if last night never happened, he would be completely enamored by you. 
“Oh, okay,” You mutter, trying to act natural about the fact that you slept with Joel fucking Miller last night. “We all set then?”
He shuts the front door, cutting off any more cold from slipping in. You watch him slowly start to invade your space. He feels pulled towards you, the gravity overcoming every sense he has. He needs to be close to you, touching you, feeling you. 
“Yeah, we are all set.”
Chills run down your spine when his cold hand reaches out and grazes your cheek. You flick your eyelashes towards him, not knowing what to say next. He dips down to your height, kissing your lips carefully. He is nervous you will back away from him, but you don’t. You lean forward into him, the weight of your entire body pressing into him. 
He is the first to pull away, but you swear you could be latched onto him forever. His big brown eyes are lasered in on your eager lips, but in the back of his mind, he knows that you two need to get back home soon. He promised Tommy four days, nothing more. And you needed to get home to your Dad. Fuck. Your Dad. His fuckin’ friend. 
“We have to get home,” Is all he says. 
And then he’s gone. It’s like he blipped out of the room. You blink and the door slams and you are alone again. 
-
You stumble out of the cabin with your backpack on, your eyes adjusting to the sunshine between the falling away leaves. Winter creeps in so quickly in Wyoming, you think to yourself. 
Joel is already posted up on his horse, waiting for you to hurry along and join him. You pet Ranger for a moment before you hop up onto his back. He can’t help but realize how perfect you seemed in the sunlight. Your face hasn’t aged with time like his. It makes sense because you’re so much younger than him. You’ve lived a very full and traumatic life, sure, but you still had a lot more energy to live. He couldn’t picture that you’d want to spend the rest of it with an older guy with maybe 20 more years left in him if you’re lucky. 
The thoughts start to eat away at him as you two make your way through the forest. 
You assume he’s just tired from not getting a lot of sleep, so you just keep your lips sealed until you make it to the main trail back home. 
“So, when we get home,” You break the quietness with your open-ended statement. Joel doesn’t know what you’re insinuating, so he just keeps his head forward. “What happens, then?”
He pulls back his horse's reins to position himself looking directly at you. 
“What do you mean?”
You look at him suspiciously, “Do we tell people?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Joel thinks. 
“Tell them what?”
He has to be messing, right? You think. 
But no, he’s deadly serious. 
“About us,” You remark as Ranger trots a bit closer to Joel. He shakes his head and your heart sinks. He can’t do this, not after you two slept together. 
“There is no us,” He grumbles, unable to look you in the eyes anymore, “We can’t do that. You’re too young.”
If you weren’t on a horse, you would’ve already smacked him. “What the hell, Joel? What if you get in my pants and make me feel special and now we are nothing? Because I’m a little bit younger than you?”
“No, it’s not like that-”
“Well, it seems like it is like that,” You bite the inside of your cheeks, holding back every instinct to burst into tears, “Fuckin’ asshole. I should’ve known better.”
-
When the walls of Jackson come into your line of sight, you could cry with excitement. Your hands were shaking, not only from the cold but the nerves. You had been silent the entire ride back. Your only desire was to get home to your Dad and ignore Joel Miller for the rest of your life. 
You can only hope and pray that your father is on the mend. To keep on track and not let panic take over, you’ve tried to put your mind on other things this whole trip. Most of those things you wish you’d forgotten, already. 
The doors open when you two get close. When the crack is big enough to see through, you spot some familiar faces waiting for you. Tommy, Maria, and even your father. He’s standing up straight, wrapped in layers of jackets and blankets. You tap Ranger with your foot, getting him to speed up. When you reach about 30 feet away, you practically fall off him to get your arms around your father. 
A sense of relief floods your body. A tidal wave of happiness and solace. He’s okay. He’s alive. 
When his scent reaches your nose, it triggers your tear ducts. After years of never having to really worry about him, knowing he can handle himself, you have felt this constant state of uneasiness the last week. 
“My baby is back,” He grumbles into your hair, his arms locking around you, “I knew I could trust that Joel.”
You don’t have time to feel guilt over your actions, you’re just so happy he’s upright. You also don’t want to hear his God-forsaken name from your own Dad. When you pull back to inspect his face, you note the tiredness in his eyes. He looks better, but not his normal. You grab each end of the blanket that’s slowly slipping off his shoulders and bundle him tighter. 
“Let’s get you back in the warm, how ‘bout it?”
You glance back at Joel who just nods, knowingly. You remember that you still have your backpack on, so before you stroll away, you shimmy out of it. Tommy watches you carefully as you hand it off to Joel. 
“Get those meds to the infirmary,” You whisper to no one in particular. Joel studies your face, waiting for you to say something else. You do not. As he grabs your pack, you feel like Maria and Tommy are gawking at you two. Like they know something was left unsaid. 
You two move differently around each other. When you shift one direction, Joel follows suit. 
Joel feels like every eye in Jackson is on him. Tommy’s being the most piercing, watching him like a hawk as he grabs his horse and guides him towards the stables. While you stroll away with Maria and your father, Joel and Tommy bring the horses and supplies to the stables. 
As you walk, you listen to Maria explain your father’s steady recovery. She mentions how Ellie has been keeping a careful eye on him. After she heard you and Joel were going to be gone together, she asked Maria if she could help him somehow. Once your dad got well enough to walk, she got him settled in your house. She’d go over there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, just to help. It makes your heart swell when you hear your dad say how kind and generous she was, just like you. 
-
Joel starts to unpack your bags from your horse first when he gets the horses parked. 
“Somethin’ happen out there?” Tommy presses, noticing how odd you and Joel moved in front of him, “With her?”
“No, nothin’,” He lies, placing your bags on a table near Ranger. When he lifted the first duffle bag, he got a whiff of you and it made his stomach sink. “We just had a rough spot in the hospital. Clickers and shit. Nothin’ too crazy-”
“Joel, I know when you’re lyin’ to me,” His eyes are shooting daggers now. Joel was too old to be pestered by his little brother. He groans in annoyance but Tommy does not give up, “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do nothin’, Tommy.”
“Bullshit,” He grumbles, grabbing one of your bags, “Want me to ask her?”
“You won’t get anythin’ out of her. She’s mad at me, okay? She is pissed I won’t…”
He feels humiliated, his stomach twisting into knots. He would never intentionally hurt you. He just put his foot in his mouth when he realized how much your actions would change everything for him. He could not just be someone you slept with. He could not just leave it. 
“You won’t what, Joel?”
He bites his lip, not wanting to say it out loud. 
“I won’t let her ruin her life for me.”
Tommy’s eyebrows furrow, not completely understanding what he’s droning on about. 
“What?”
“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” Joel wasn’t anticipating a shake-down when he got home. You two really didn’t help with those looks splattered across your faces when you rolled into Jackson.
“You slept with her, didn’t you?”
Joel shakes his head, peeling his eyes away from Tommy. Joel knew nothing could get past him, so he is practically surrendering. Tommy knew then. 
“You dumbass,” He whispers, getting closer to Joel, “You slept with her when her daddy is your patrol partner? After I told you to stay away?”
Joel clenches his teeth, “I don’t need this right now. I’m gettin’ these meds to the infirmary and then I’m takin’ her stuff to her.”
“Joel-”
“Just fuckin’ drop it, Tommy. I ain’t doin’ this.”
-
Your Dad has a nice setup, thanks to Ellie. She has transformed the downstairs guest room into a wonderful stay, with tons of pillows and bedside service. When you get inside the house, Ellie is there. She stands in the corner of the living room, timidly, as you guide your dad back to his warm bed. Maria and her wait for you to handle getting him back to his bedroom. Even though his recovery has been a steady incline, he’s very weak and exhausted all the time. It’s his body’s reaction to fighting a rough illness, but he made sure to reassure you that Sidney told him it’ll be a couple of weeks before he’s 100% back to normal. 
You get him back in bed, his eyes already drooping to find slumber again. You manage to get his shoes off and help him under his covers. Once his head hits the pillow, you stand by the bed for a minute to ensure he’s actually sleeping. You slip out of the room, and the sudden rush of comfort of being home takes over your senses. To hear the crackling of the fireplace, and the smell of your homemade candles. While you enjoyed every moment spent with Joel, there’s nothing like home. 
For a second there, you thought you had that same feeling being next to him in bed. But maybe you were wrong. 
You walk out to where Maria and Ellie stand. They are mumbling to each other while you kick off your boots by the door. 
“Hey, Ellie,” You catch her attention, her freckled face down turning with concern. You smile, trying to ease her, “Thank you for all you’ve done here. I am glad he had someone like you looking after him.”
She nods, her lips twitching, “It’s no problem at all. I know how much you two mean to Joel and I just wanted to do what I could.”
Hearing his name sinks your heart, “We owe ya one.”
Because you did. No matter what would eventually transpire between you and Joel, you owe him your father’s life. His idea saved him. With how sick he was, Joel’s quick plan was enough to bring him home. Then for Ellie to spend her days looking after him while you two were gone? You were forever indebted to them. Sadly. 
“Well, we should leave you to get settled. Let us know if you need anything at all,” Maria gestures to Ellie towards the front door. Their footsteps trail around you, heading to your front door. Before Ellie can reach for the handle, there’s a knock. You nod your head, letting her know it’s okay to open it. 
Joel stands there, your bags in his hands. 
You honestly just left your belongings for him to deal with. Joel looks down at Ellie, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. She’s not as impressed, initially. 
“Hey kiddo,” Joel acknowledges, before spotting Maria, “Mrs. Miller.”
“We were just heading out,” Maria says, pushing the door wider so she and Ellie can slip by his large frame, “Give the girl her things and let her settle back into her life, huh?”
Joel was already annoyed at the narrowed eyes and judgemental jabs. It’s like everyone somehow knew he fucked up. 
You two watch Maria and Ellie leave, their breaths forming clouds in the cold sharp air. Jackson’s weather changed overnight, you think, remembering how it was more tolerable before you left. 
“Can I come in?” Joel ponders, still holding your backpack and duffle. 
It was cold and while you wanted to slam the door on him, you know you can’t. You move away from the threshold, gesturing for him to come in. His footfalls are heavy and drawn out. You shut the door, waving him towards the living room so your voices don’t carry down the hallway to your father’s newly set up bedroom. 
He places your bags on the couch before he stretches his shoulders in discomfort. Your stuff was not that heavy, but Joel could not help but try to draw your attention. He glances around your living room, taking in some of the artwork and photos that line the walls. Some are old photos of you and your father, in which you don’t really resemble him at all. 
“Back to how things were, huh?” You remark, bitterly. You wanted to attack him with every mean thing plaguing your mind, but you don’t. You were tired from all the travels but you were also tired of the idea of fighting for someone who does not care to fight for you back. You had done that for years with pointless boys. 
The whole walk to your house, Joel’s thoughts were moving a million miles a minute. He did not want you to live your life resenting him. He cared for you deeply, but he did not want you to miss out on all the wonders of life. Joel could not give you kids. He could not give you 40 more years of happiness. He would be an elderly man before you could even reach menopause. He does not want you to regret things when you’re old and gray. 
“I don’t want that. You know damn well I don’t want that.”
You could scream. But you stay even, not giving in to the temptation to just rip him a new one. 
“I don’t know what you want, Joel. One minute you’re kissin’ me and begging to be with me, the next you’re telling me you can’t be with me because I’m too young.”
“Baby-”
“No! Don’t you dare? You had no intention of making this a thing, yet you played into it and got exactly what you wanted. I’m just another notch for you, ain’t I?”
Your hands are clenched, waiting for his delayed response. You are embarrassed and humiliated that you were delusional enough to let Joel toy with every one of your emotions. 
“You know that ain’t true, girl. I just don’t want you to live your life regretting that I was a part of it, okay? You want to spend your days with an old man who can’t give you everything you want? ’m not good for you.”
He can’t let you make this mistake. 
But you’re not easing up. 
“What do you think I want? Kids? A simple life? A picket fence? Joel those are things I wanted when I was living in a world that didn’t have a brain-eating infection that’d turn people into zombies,” You’re huffing and puffing, trying to understand why he thinks he can tell you what you need and want. 
“I spent years of my life wishing I could get those things, but I gave up a long ass time ago. I don’t want those things nearly as much as I want you. I fuckin’ want you, okay?”
You realize you’re not being quiet and your Dad could probably hear every word falling from your lips. He can hear you desperately plead with Joel Miller to be with you. 
Joel is shocked you’re laying all this out. He can’t believe his ears when you say you want him. A man like him being wanted is quite unbelievable, especially by a woman like you. 
You could hear a pin drop with how silent your house is. You fold your arms, trying not to give into the nausea you feel from spilling your soul to him. 
“I just…” He fidgets with his hands for a minute before those puppy eyes glance up at you, “I don’t want to ruin your life.”
You step closer to him, your face inches away from him. You train your eyes on his mouth, unsure how to respond to such blasphemy. 
“I have spent so many days thinking about what it’d be like to live in a world where the Joel Miller would even glance in my direction. I imagined what it’d be like to kiss him,” You’re whispering now, making sure this revelation is for his ears only, “I imagined what it’d be like to have a man who’d treat me well and look… Exactly like you. I have dreamed of you.”
Joel would have never guessed such a statement fall from your lips. 
You breathe out, relieved it’s finally off your chest.
“I just don’t want to leave ya worse than I found ya,” His softness instantly makes you crumble into his arms. He holds you tight, before pulling away to search your face. You teeter forward on your toes, pressing a firm but attentive kiss to his lips. 
When you draw back, “I’m not givin’ you up, Joel.”
The tension is shattered when you hear your Dad yell your name from down the hallway. You snap out of your trance of staring at Joel’s beautiful lips and dart toward the voice. 
“Yeah?”
You open the door and see him, his eyes wide open and focused on the door. 
“Who you talking to out there? Is that Joel?”
Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of every word you just said, scared half to death that your Dad would get out of bed and beat some sense into you. Joel follows you down the dimly lit hallway, but you don’t even hear him, too rattled by your father’s question. 
“Yes, it’s me,” Joel speaks up, coming forward to meet your Dad’s confused expression, “How you feelin’, man?”
“I’m feelin’ like I’m hearing some odd things from down the hall. You two fighting?” His voice is breaking a bit. 
The silence after he asks the question is deafening. You glance over to Joel whose mouth is slightly ajar, unable to move with an answer. You bite the inside of your cheek, wishing you could disappear into the wall nearby. 
Joel cannot lie to his friend. He certainly would never do it with you right beside him. 
“Yeah, you uh, heard us?” He barely manages. 
“Yeah, I sure as hell heard my daughter beggin’ you to take her on, is that true?”
“Dad-“
“My daughter wants to date a man that’s 10 years younger than her own father? Kind of twisted.” He snaps, shoving the blankets off his legs. “But, I am gonna be honest… I expected this.”
You can hardly breathe with the tension in the air. 
“Sorry?”
Joel’s tone is dry, and he’s unable to fully form a coherent thought. 
Your dad coughs before he starts, “Well, I could tell by the way you looked at her that you had a thing for her, Miller. Didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to entertain it.”
“Dad, he’s not dum-“
“And I thought you’d get over this little schoolgirl crush, but I was mistaken, I guess.”
You were used to your Dad’s sarcasm and upfront jabs. You spent a lifetime throwing them back at him, but this time you had nothing to say. You watch as he settles back from obnoxiously tearing off his blankets. 
You fiddle with your fingers, trying not to show your internal anxiety-riddled monologue. He thought you’d get over your crush. He always noticed how Joel looked at you. How did he look at you? How did you never notice?
Joel is spiraling, reverting to his original conclusions. He knew this was a horrible idea. He should have never stepped over the line. He’s a horrible man. You don’t deserve someone as awful as him. 
He smacks his lips, making you and Joel come back down to Earth and out of your heads. 
“Whatever is happenin’ between you two, I probably will never fully understand it. But you are adults, you do whatever makes you happy,” He says with both hands up in surrender, “I am too old to bother with my daughter’s love life. She’s a big girl, I trust her. But Miller, if you hurt her-“
“I’m a dead man.”
Your father laughs which in turn makes you smile crookedly. 
“Just one thing,” He points to you, “I don't want to hear or see anythin’-”
You nod, cutting him off immediately, “Deal.”
Joel catches your eye when he smiles in your peripheral vision. You look over at him, a grin plastered to your face. 
You can’t believe you’re actually going to do this. 
And Joel can’t believe your father somewhat agreed to let it happen. He was sure he would have a gun in his face before he could even mutter a word. But instead, your Dad is receptive to him being with you, which is all you can ask for. 
“Well, get along now, I wanna get back to sleep. You two were keepin’ me up,” Your dad grumbles, readjusting his frail frame to get comfortable in bed. You just nod, pointing at the door for Joel to exit. You follow suit, closing the door behind you tightly, making sure it clicks. Joel stands in the darkness of the hallway, waiting. He is in disbelief. 
You just take one of his hands and bring it to your lips, softly pressing a kiss into his knuckles. 
“Let’s go get cleaned up and take a nap,” You murmur, walking him to the end of the hallway to the bottom of the stairs. He accepts the offer, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. 
You were not sure where this was all going to end up. Neither of you did. But you could not wait to carve the way with him, bringing every last one of your daydreams to life.
THE END
or is it? I have started writing snippets to go along with this story- if you want more, here's the link:
No One Fucks With My Baby
3K notes · View notes
cherienymphe · 3 months
Text
Escapism
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Topper Thornton x Reader
Summary: Your brother always stayed up with you whenever you couldn’t sleep and nothing has changed now that his best friend is the reason for your late nights.
warnings: Dub-Con, stepcest, cheating, toxic relationship, semi-public sex, jealousy, secret relationship, side of Rafe x reader, lots of playing in Rafe's face, kook!reader, non canon ages
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
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You were a shitty girlfriend.
Perhaps, in some ways, you were being too harsh on yourself because it wasn’t like Rafe would ever win boyfriend of the year. The blond came with a plethora of issues that could only be fixed with therapy—something you probably wouldn’t even be able to pay him to do—and he chose to handle every single one with one horrible coping mechanism after the next. When it was all said and done though, you really only had yourself to blame.
It wasn’t like you were a stranger to the man before you started dating him.
You knew Rafe well—you’d grown up with him—so was it really his fault that you chose to ignore every single thing you knew about him in the hopes that he would mature and change? Was it his fault that you forgave him time and time again with the hopes that he could still change? Was he the asshole for being him or were you the asshole for going into this with the expectation he’d be something he wasn’t?
“Come on,” Topper would say to you in the dead of night. “You and I both know what he’s like—what he’s always been like.”
It was usually after he’d listen to you cry over Rafe and whatever girl he’d kissed or whatever awful thing he’d said to you, pupils blown and alcohol on his breath. He’d pull you to sit back, hands rubbing over your arms in an attempt to calm you down. It was always well into the night when you both should’ve been asleep, but per your routine as of late, you’d be waiting up for Rafe to call or text or walk through the door.
Anything to let you know he wasn’t passed out drunk in a ditch somewhere.
“Rafe can take care of himself just fine.”
Or some variation of that would reach your ears, and you’d press your hands to your face in exhaustion. You’d never miss the bitterness—borderline malice—in Topper’s voice as he said something like that. You knew it wasn’t directed at you, but more so your relationship with the other blond as a whole and his frustration with it. Topper never wanted you to date Rafe, and you knew he took no pleasure in watching Rafe prove him right.
Rafe may have been his best friend…
…but you were ten and Topper was twelve when his mother married your father. He’d been protective of you since day one, having been an only child before that, and you knew that he hated having to let you make your own choices and mistakes with the guy you’d both once called a friend. If you and Rafe came out of this relationship intact, you doubted you’d ever call him ‘friend’ again.
He’d hurt you too much for that.
You weren’t a bad girlfriend for thinking such thoughts. Nor were you a bad girlfriend for trying to break up with him on several occasions, something Rafe would always talk you out of with promises of remorse and change. You didn’t even think you were a bad girlfriend for venting about your frustration and hurt to his best friend—your stepbrother.
You were a shitty girlfriend for allowing something to continue that should’ve ended years ago.
Fed up with talking about Rafe and how badly he’d hurt your feelings earlier in the day, Topper had pressed his lips to yours, effectively shutting you up with a kiss. A kiss that you returned, shoulders sagging and a weight lifting off of your chest as his arms circled around your waist. Rafe had called you a nag hours before, subsequently telling you he wouldn’t be staying over before hanging up without another word.
It had hurt you, but you were sure Topper was just relieved to have you all to himself.
Or at the very least, wouldn’t be tempted to fuck you anyway—Rafe under the same roof be damned.
You both were quiet in the dark living room—your parents asleep upstairs—and the longer you kissed him, the more you just wanted to forget about Rafe. The t-shirt you wore was bunching up under the blonde’s hands, and you gasped when his mouth trailed down to your neck. You could feel how much he wanted you, and any other night you would’ve loved to drag this out, but much like Topper…
You just wanted to feel him inside of you.
You never wore any underwear to bed, both for convenience and just because. It was something Topper had come to appreciate, and when you helped him pull his shorts down, cock springing free, you couldn’t slide down the couch fast enough. He hooked one hand under your thigh, helping you and dragging you closer, the other squeezing his cock with long strokes.
He rubbed the tip of himself against you a few times, coating the head in your essence, unsurprised at how wet and ready for him you already were. The feel made you bite the inside of your cheek, lifting your hips in an attempt to get him to sink into you even if just a little. You didn’t miss the soft chuckle that rang through the air.
“I’m sorry,” he huskily told you, pushing into you with one slow thrust. “Is that better?”
You hated his mocking tone, but not as much as you loved the feel of him stretching you out. You clawed at him, pulling him closer, sighing into his mouth when he finally kissed you again. The movements of his hips were slow, too afraid to do too much and make too much noise. The pace was enough to make your head spin and was definitely enough to make you squirm beneath him. When you started lifting your hips to meet him halfway, he groaned into the kiss.
Rafe was the furthest thing from your mind.
Sliding your hands up Topper’s frame, you threaded your fingers through his hair, nails lightly dragging along his scalp. By the way he shuddered against you, you knew that he liked that. Every snap of his hips into yours had you swallowing down every noise that threatened to escape. His cock stroked your walls in a way that made you squeeze your eyes shut.
Shifting, you felt his hand slide down to rest on the inside of your thigh, pushing it and spreading it until your leg hung off of the couch. At that, you did gasp, a choaked sound escaping your lips before you snapped them shut. His free hand was beside your head now, forearm resting on the couch cushion. You both were quiet, but your soft labored breathing could still be heard if you listened hard enough.
When you softly moaned his name, he shushed you.
“I want…” you fought to catch your breath enough to speak. “I want you to come inside of me.”
You felt another shiver travel up his spine, head falling into the crook of your neck at that. You knew he wasn’t close, but you felt like making that known. It wasn’t something you both made a habit of, but you loved the feel of Topper spilling into you, cock twitching as he coated your walls in his release. When you pushed against his hand, he got the hint, and you circled his waist with your legs, ankles hooking at the small of his back.
Topper took his time fucking you.
He often did, feeling no need to rush or no fear that you’d get caught. You didn’t know if he was just that confident in how quickly you could pull yourselves together or that it simply wouldn’t happen. Some part of you wondered if maybe he just didn’t care. You knew that couldn’t be true for several reasons, the most pressing being your boyfriend.
It was funny.
Rafe had probably cheated on you more times than you actually knew of, but the minute some other guy looked at you for even just a second too long, he was gearing up for a fight. You didn’t know if he was performative or just that skilled at compartmentalization, but you hated it. What good did it do for him to act so noble and possessive when way too many people knew how much he’d embarrassed you over the past six months?
You didn’t doubt that he’d try to kill Topper in some coked out rage if he ever knew.
Topper’s hand was cupping your breast under your shirt as he pressed kisses to your neck and jaw. He was whispering in your ear, telling you how good you felt and how wet you were, and how much he wanted to feel you coming around him. He knew what to say to send you over the edge, and at the first sound, he covered your mouth in another kiss to swallow your moans.
You squeezed him tight, walls clenching as he fucked you through your climax, cock plunging into your soaking cunt as he chased his own. His thrusts grew sloppy, and they weren’t as languid, and his blond strands kissed your forehead as they grew messy and awkward with sweat. Your legs had long fallen around him, and you pressed your hand against his lower back.
When he came, he buried his face into where your neck and shoulder met, groaning into the skin. You shuddered at the feel of him spilling into you, still clenching around him as remnants of your orgasm finally started to dissipate. His breathing was heavy against your skin before pulling back just enough to touch his forehead to yours.
You could only hear your efforts to catch your breath.
“I love you. You know that, right?”
You nodded, positive he could feel the action against his forehead. You fingered the top of his shorts, and you bit your lip. You didn’t say it back often—something you still had trouble accepting and admitting—but you told him enough so that he’d never doubt it.
“Can I stay in your room tonight?” you quietly asked him. “Rafe probably won’t come over until after noon…if he comes over, at all.”
You tried not to let your voice shrink at the thought, but Topper caught it anyway. Pulling out of you and sitting up, he grabbed your arm and pulled you with him. Righting himself, he pulled you to your feet, his other hand pushing his hair away from his face.
“You know you never have to ask,” he told you.
His hands were comfortably on your waist as he followed behind you, guiding you upstairs.
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“What…? You got a problem or something?”
You knew it was coming when you were the only one who wasn’t laughing, unamused as he recounted his tale of how he’d cornered Pope. You’d never known the other guy to get into any trouble or bother anyone, and while you knew there would never be anything you could do about whatever petty rivalry your brother and your boyfriend and their friends involved themselves in, Pope just seemed like low hanging fruit.
He wasn’t even the type to fight back.
“I just don’t find it funny,” was all you said, squinting under the harsh rays of the sun. “You know Pope’s not even like that. I might’ve laughed if it were JJ or…I don’t know…someone who would actually put up a fight.”
Rafe’s entire demeanor clouded over at that, and you were prepared for whatever was about to come out of his mouth when Topper spoke.
“Rafe,” the other blond warned. “Chill.”
He seemed to anticipate Rafe’s ire just as much as you did, and Rafe paused, glancing at his best friend before huffing. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing you with that cold blue gaze of his. The sun shone off of his dirty blond strands, the tresses curtained along his forehead, and you watched him bring his hand up to rest against his lips before finally settling on a better response than what you both knew you almost got.
“So, what are you trying to say?”
Choosing to end this fight before it even began, you sighed, looking away.
“I’m not saying anything, Rafe. You can do whatever you want,” you murmured. “You always do.”
He heard that loud and clear, and the laugh he let out wasn’t humorous in the slightest. You heard him roughly get up from his seat, chair scraping against the wooden floor. You watched him snatch his glass off the table, mumbling something about needing a refill but not before making a comment to Topper that was solely intended for you.
“Get your sister, Top,” your boyfriend drawled, making you cross your arms over your chest.
You could feel the man in question’s eyes on you, and you avoided his gaze.
“Sometimes I swear you like fighting with him just as much as he does you.”
At that, you scoffed, looking at him in disbelief.
“I didn’t laugh because he beat up Pope Heyward…and that was apparently a problem,” you pointed out to which Topper merely shrugged, unable to disagree. “I apologize for not finding it funny.”
“Babe,” he softly said, reaching out and touching your arm. “He’s a Pogue, and you know how Rafe is.”
His excuse for Rafe’s behavior only made you roll your eyes, and you heard him sigh as you reached for your stuff. He said your name, trying to get you to sit back down, but you were only more determined to leave once you caught sight of Kelce walking up the steps to the restaurant too. Dealing with all three of them at once was enough to give you a coronary.
“Where are you going?”
You didn’t answer Rafe as you passed him on his way back to the table, ignoring Kelce too when he said hey to you. You hated to take it out on him when he didn’t actually do anything this time, but you knew his mindset was just as bad as Rafe’s, and so you figured it was preemptively deserved. You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Rafe was going to talk shit about you the second you were out of sight.
It was one of those days where you really felt emboldened to finally break up with him for good. Rafe hadn’t been good to you nor right for you since the beginning, and you knew that if Topper was a lesser person, he would’ve said ‘I told you so’ a million times by now. You were grateful that he didn’t make you feel worse for being naïve enough to ever believe in Rafe Cameron.
Although, some part of you wondered if having you crawl into his bed night after night was satisfaction enough.
It was hours later when he was softly apologizing for both his and Rafe’s behavior, fingers digging into your waist as you pushed yourself down onto him. Rafe had long fallen asleep, his light snores easing your worry as you’d snuck out of your room. Topper was awake—as you’d hoped—and it was true that you’d only intended to talk. Rafe’s attitude hadn’t been much better when you finally reunited again, something you were sure Topper had overheard.
“You really want to talk about Rafe, right now?” he’d whispered, hand sliding along your thigh.
“Topper,” you’d quietly hissed in warning. “Not…tonight. He’s…”
You didn’t need to finish that sentence, feeling no need to as you gestured towards his door. The blond had fixed you with a look that made your stomach flip, a hint of a smirk dancing along his pink lips as he held your gaze.
“That’s never stopped us before.”
You’d swallowed at that, feeling unsure, but that was a feeling that had never stopped the other man before either. The first time he’d ever kissed you, you’d felt unsure, but Topper hadn’t cared, holding you to him and fingering you on the back deck while his mother threw some grand party downstairs. You still remembered the way you came around his fingers, an admission of insecurities somehow leading to your first ever sexual experience—and with your own stepbrother no less.
“Topper,” you’d quietly warned when he brushed his lips against yours. “Rafe…”
“Do…not…talk about him, right now,” he’d slowly said, fingers grazing along your folds just as slow.
Despite your hand against his shoulder, he’d laid you down, lips finding the skin just under your jaw.
“He’s the last thing I want to talk about, right now.”
…and he’d meant it, curving his fingers into you while pressing open mouthed kisses to your jaw and throat and collarbone. Any protest you had was swallowed down and quickly forgotten at the slick feeling between your legs, Topper’s fingers sinking into your cunt with ease. Your own twisted into the fabric of his shirt, hips lifted towards his hand, fighting to swallow down a whimper each time his thumb circled your clit.
“Fuck,” he’d cursed into your skin. “I love how wet you get for me.”
It wasn’t long after that that he was hurrying to get inside of you, shirts and shorts discarded as he pulled you on top of him. When you sank down onto him, he’d sighed, throwing his head back and lifting his hips. With your hands on his stomach, you’d lifted yourself until the tip of his cock just barely remained inside of you before sliding back down.
You gently bounced on top of him, hyper aware of who was just in the other room. You could tell that Topper wasn’t a huge fan, feeling that you had to pick one between being on top and being gentle, but it couldn’t be both. When his hands slid up your frame, they rested on the sides of your neck before pulling you down. Your eyes fell closed when you kissed him, and you gasped into his mouth when he lifted his hips, driving himself up into you.
You mentally cursed, realizing you’d been tricked.
With his hands quickly sliding down to snake around your waist, Topper wasted no time in lifting his hips to push his cock up into you. The force of his thrusts had you squeezing him in more ways than one, lips parted and eyes tight as he roughly fucked himself up into you. His bed shook under his movements, and you couldn’t stop yourself from whining into his mouth, the sound of him sinking into you reaching your ears.
“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he hummed, one hand coming up to rest on your cheek.
When his bed knocked into the wall, he halted his movements, using the moment to both catch his breath and listen. Your own heart stuttered, digging your nails into his chest because you’d literally told Topper so. Once Rafe was knocked out, it was usually pretty hard to wake him up, but it would be just your luck that this night of all nights he’d be a light sleeper.
You really didn’t want to imagine the chaos if he left your room in search of you only to find his best friend balls deep inside of you.
When no worrying sounds reached your ears, Topper took that as a sign to continue, knees bent as he thrust up into you again. You could tell he was close by the way his cock twitched inside of you, and something nagged in the back of your mind about that. When you attempted to pull yourself off of him, he held you tighter.
“Topper,” you gasped, a warning in your tone. “Don’t-.”
Your words were abruptly swallowed when he rolled you both, pinning you beneath him and jerking his hips into yours. The rough and fast pace had you momentarily forgetting your train of thought, weakly pushing against his stomach. You both knew why you didn’t want him to finish inside of you, but he didn’t seem to care about Rafe possibly sinking into you in the early hours of the morning with his best friend’s cum dried along your folds.
You yelped when you came, a roaring sound in your ears as you felt him do the same, filling you up with a grunt. His hips didn’t stop snapping against yours the entire time, fucking you through it and fucking his cum into you. He had you completely caged beneath him, and all you could do was quietly milk his cock, toes curling as you scratched at his back.
When clarity finally hit, the fog lifting, you roughly pushed him away. You didn’t miss his quiet chuckle, and you didn’t spare him a glance as you reached for your oversized t-shirt—his t-shirt.
“You’re such an asshole,” you mumbled, pulling it over your head and slapping his hand away when he reached down to slide his fingers between your sticky folds.
You didn’t spare Topper another glance before hurrying out of his room.
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You kept your eyes on Rafe as he flew down the road, the loud music making his truck almost vibrate. He was ignoring you, preoccupied with his conversation with Kelce who was in the passenger seat. It was funny because the only one with a right to be mad was you, recalling the fight you’d had on the beach not even an hour ago.
“She was all over you, and you just stood there and let it happen,” you’d yelled at him, feeling humiliated for the umpteenth time.
“I barely remember what that girl even looks like,” was his reply, pupils blown. “It was nothing, baby.”
You had slapped his hand away when he reached for you, unmoved by the way his countenance darkened. The sounds of the party just down the beach only served to remind you how you felt when you walked up on him with his hand on some girl’s waist, her lips trailing kisses along his neck. You could tell she was drunk, and instead of pushing her away, Rafe just entertained it.
Your eyes had only met for half a second before you were turning away.
You didn’t even know why he chased you down the beach, and that was what you’d told him.
“You’re not sorry…you don’t feel bad, and you know what? You’ll probably do worse two weeks from now, so why are you even here?”
You’d shrugged at him, certain your confusion was evident on your face.
“Look, it was nothing,” he’d spat at you. “Once again, you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”
That had actually made you laugh, tears kissing your eyes.
“If you caught me cozying up to any guy with half the effort that she was with you…you would lose your shit, and you know it,” you’d sneered, watching his jaw tick. “I would love to see the look on your face if I fucked someone else.”
He’d gotten in your face, his finger almost touching your eye.
“I was barely touching her-.”
“That wasn’t the case three months ago,” you threw in his face. “…and I can only imagine what I don’t know about.”
Rafe’s nostrils had flared, and for a split second, you swore you saw some shame pass through his blue gaze. It was gone just as quickly as it came though, anger replacing it instead.
“You wouldn’t dare, you wouldn’t fucking dare,” he bit out, invading your personal space. “I said I was sorry, and you said you forgave me, so don’t think you can use that as an excuse to go fuck some asshole who clearly doesn’t value his life.”
His words had only made you angrier, and you had to bite your tongue to keep your face even, recalling the feel of Topper’s cock inside of you just thirty minutes before Rafe came to pick you both up. You and your boyfriend had stared each other down for a few moments more before he spoke again.
“I’d love to see you do that,” he finally said, shrugging. “I would love to see you try when you can’t even stick to staying broken up with me.”
His words had the desired effect, and you’d felt your face fall.
“Now, you’re trying to convince me you’d ever have the nerve to cheat on me?” he’d wondered, fingers grazing his own chest. “Don’t make me laugh.”
He’d left you with a scoff, and you hadn’t been able to stop your tears from spilling over. All you’d ever tried to do was routinely look for and believe in the best in Rafe, and you couldn’t believe that he threw that in your face like some insult. Maybe it was an insult though…because how many times were you going to let him show you exactly who he was? How many times were you going to let him play in your face?
The day after you’d confronted him about sleeping with some girl—only privy to the information because of none other than Topper—you’d cried yourself to sleep. It was always little things before that, but that incident was what broke you, allowing Topper to slip into your room and wrap his arms around you. It was reminiscent of a time where he used to sneak into your room almost every night, your parents none the wiser to what went on underneath their roof. You’d been eighteen then, Topper twenty, and you both mutually agreed to putting a stop to it.
However, that night, his mind had clearly gone to the same place yours had.
When he kissed you, you’d pulled him closer, and two years after you ended your forbidden dalliance, you resumed it again. For a few hours, you’d forgotten all about Rafe and what he did and just basked in the feel of Topper pushing his cock into you, embarrassingly turned on because of how much you’d missed him. You hadn’t paid any mind to the countless phone calls and texts that were blowing up your phone, no one else but Rafe and his vain attempts to fix what he did.
The day you forgave him, you knew you were making a huge mistake.
Rafe throwing the grace you’d shown him in your face had you stomping to his truck. You’d ignored the feel of eyes on you, knowing it wasn’t Rafe, opting to slide in the backseat without acknowledging him. Kelce—ever the standup guy—just pretended not to notice the tension between you and his friend as he slid into the passenger seat. The moment Rafe’s truck was on the road—music blaring through the vehicle—you’d grabbed Topper’s hand.
He didn’t protest at all when you dragged it across your thigh, pushing his fingers between your legs.
…and that was how you found yourself watching Rafe, keeping your eyes on him not because you actually wanted to, but because you didn’t need him looking over his shoulder. Even if he did, it was dark, but still, you weren’t exactly emotionless as Topper slid his fingers in and out of you. Your lips were parted, and your chest was heaving, and even though all that could really be heard was whatever rap song Rafe put on, you were still pulling your lip between your teeth.
You reached out to grip the door handle when Topper added another finger, his hand soaked in you, and you reached down to place your own hand on top of his. You spread your legs a little more, and you couldn’t stop yourself from lifting your hips a bit. You were thankful for the music, certain that if the truck were quieter, they’d be able to hear the wet sounds of his fingers pushing between your folds.
He pulled them in and out of you for the duration of the ride, just slowly stroking you and teasing you. Every time you started to tighten around his fingers, he’d stop, just letting them sit there long enough for you to come down from a high that quite never happened. Like clockwork, he’d start moving his fingers again, and he only fully pulled them out of you—underwear snapping back into place—when Rafe pulled into his driveway.
He'd sucked them clean by the time Rafe and Kelce opened their doors, and when your boyfriend saw that neither of you were moving, he paused. You crossed your arms over your chest when he glanced at you, throwing him a frown.
“I need to talk to Y/N for a minute,” Topper told him, and Rafe only scoffed.
“Please do,” he mockingly said, tone full of arrogance as he wrongly assumed what the conversation would be about. “…because I didn’t do shit, and I’m tired of your sister blowing things out of proportion.”
That last part was aimed at you, and you only coolly met your boyfriend’s gaze before he slammed the door shut.
“He’s such an asshole,” you mumbled, staring at his back as he walked away. “I’m breaking up with him. For good this time.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Topper’s tone was dripping with sarcasm, and you rolled your eyes at him.
“Yeah, we both know how much you’ll hate having me all to yourself again.”
The words were barely out of your mouth before you turned towards him, reaching to slip your hand down his pants the moment Rafe was inside of his house. Wrapping your fingers around Topper’s cock, you slowly stroked him, uncaring as to how risky that was. You were just angrier than you ever were at the realization that Rafe didn’t appreciate how gracious you’d been, and how many other girls would’ve dumped him months ago for everything he’d pulled. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if Rafe respected you less for it.
That realization didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would…because you’d long stopped respecting him in return.
You moved to settle in Topper’s lap, facing away from him as he lifted his hips enough to only just pull his pants down. One hand was pulling at your panties, yanking them aside just in time for you to sink down onto his cock. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he filled you up, throbbing inside of your heat. It was almost too easy, courtesy of his fingers and how wet he’d made you.
You lifted yourself slightly, moving over him and hanging onto the headrest of the driver’s seat while Topper lifted his hips too. His grunts and labored pants were a little loud, but that was only because you were alone. Rafe nor Kelce was going to hear anything from all the way out here in a closed vehicle. You clung to the seat harder as you thought about Rafe’s haughty tone and that challenging look in his blue eyes, so certain that you’d never do to him what he did to you.
So certain that you’d never have the guts.
Speaking of, it felt like you could feel Topper deep in your stomach as you rode him. His hands were tight on your waist as he bounced you on top of him, cheeks grazing his thighs with every movement. One of those hands slid around you, reaching under your dress and resting on you, fingers rubbing over your cunt.
“You’re doing so good, babe,” he whispered in the otherwise quiet truck. “Just like that.”
You knew that this couldn’t take long—and Topper knew it too—and feeling you come around him always sent him over the edge, so your eyes rolled when he started circling and dragging his fingers across your clit. He lightly pinched it, making you jerk, and the fact that you were fucking him in Rafe’s own backseat had you coming hard.
The broken moans that tumbled out of your mouth should have embarrassed you, but you were too concerned with sliding yourself up and down his cock, squeezing him tight and making him come too. Topper wrapped an arm around your neck, pulling you back against him as you came together. Knowing that you’d stayed out here long enough, he was gently pushing you off of him the second he started to soften.
You could feel him dripping out of you, and you hurried to put your underwear back in place.
“Did you talk some sense into her?” was the first thing Rafe greeted you with the moment you both made it back inside.
You ignored him, hearing the tone of Topper’s voice as he said Rafe’s name. You knew that it would just be another useless talk of him almost begging Rafe to do better. The older blond never listened to his friend though, and you knew it didn’t twist Topper up too much, always happy to make you feel better when your boyfriend fucked up.
He took advantage of it every time.
Like now, for example.
Your hands clung to the railing of the back porch, head bowed as Topper drove into you from behind. Rafe was asleep in his own room—Kelce asleep in a guest room—and you couldn’t help yourself. You needed him again, sneaking into his designated guest room and begging him to fuck you. He was never one to protest, pressing his lips to yours and pulling you against him while murmuring something along the lines of ‘not in here’.
There were too many people in the Cameron household for him to touch you on the same floor as everyone else.
You kept pushing yourself to your tippy toes, thighs squeezing together with every slow stroke of his cock. Rafe’s t-shirt was pushed up your back, and the light slap of skin against skin reached your ears as well as the wet sound every time he slid between your folds. When he leaned over you, chest pressed to your back, one arm curled around your waist.
“You love this,” he murmured, nipping at your ear. “You love fucking me right under his nose…especially when he really pisses you off.”
If you’d tried to deny it, the way you tightened around him would’ve exposed the truth anyway. You did. Rafe underestimated you, and you loved proving him wrong, especially with his best friend of all people. You moaned, pushing back against him at that. Topper only chuckled, twisting a hand at your roots and pushing you back down over the railing again.
After coming around him twice, the insides of your thighs were embarrassingly sticky, and when Topper eventually stilled against you, pumping you full of his cum, that only made your predicament worse. When he pulled out of you, you reached down to wipe away some of the mess, fighting to catch your breath and reminding yourself that you’d have to make a stop to the bathroom before rejoining Rafe.
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Topper was silent the entire ride home, and unlike with Rafe, you had no one but yourself to blame in this situation. Whenever you happened to glance over, you’d catch sight of his clenched jaw, cold blue eyes—so much like Rafe’s—focused on the road. His knuckles were white from the strain of his skin pulled taut over them, a death grip on the wheel of his jeep.
You didn’t speak because there wasn’t much you could say.
So fed up with Rafe’s blatant disrespect—and the pitying looks the odd girl threw you at the party as he danced with some stranger—you hadn’t thought of who else you’d be hurting when you grabbed the nearest guy and pressed your lips to his. You were so far gone with the alcohol, and the satisfaction you’d felt only drove you to close your eyes at the feel of his lips moving against yours.
It had also caused you to momentarily forget about your boyfriend, a misstep that was quickly remedied when you found yourself covered in alcohol.
Several of his friends—Kelce included—had been struggling to hold Rafe back as he tried to make his way to you. His angry shouts could be heard over the music, and you suspected that the bloodthirsty glint in his blue eyes was what drove your poor unsuspecting victim to slip away. Watching him get further out of reach only drove Rafe crazy…until his angry gaze landed on you, as if just remembering your presence.
He was screaming at you, calling you every name in the book, and you’d taken a step back as his friends struggled to keep him from getting to you. Only one stood off to the side, and when you remembered Topper’s presence, you hadn’t been able to keep the sheepish look off of your face. Adopting the older brother role, he’d quickly stomped towards you, yanking your arm as he pulled you along and away from your enraged boyfriend.
“I think its time you call it a night,” he’d evenly said.
That was the last thing he’d said to you, holding you as you stumbled to his car.
When his phone rang again, cutting through the silence in the vehicle, he finally answered it.
“Rafe, she’s drunk,” Topper told him the minute he picked it up. “…and you can’t act like you didn’t have this coming a little.”
You shifted in your seat, thinking to yourself that you’d gotten back at Rafe many times over. You didn’t hear what your boyfriend—possibly ex-boyfriend—said on the other line, but it was loud, and you could pick up on his tone. Topper chuckled to himself, and if you hadn’t been looking at his face, you might’ve thought it was genuine. His frustration with both Rafe and you—mostly you at the moment—was all over his face.
“There’s a whole list of shit you’ve done while drunk or high. You can talk to her tomorrow,” he told his best friend, meeting your gaze. “I’m handling it, so if you come over, I’m telling you now I’m not answering the door.”
You looked out the window at that, swallowing at the venom in both his voice and his gaze.
Your parents weren’t home, out of town for the weekend, and you were never more grateful, certain you’d never been this drunk in your life. Topper was still ignoring you as he helped you inside, and when you stumbled away from him, leaning against the table by the entrance, you gave him an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.
Before you could do it, he was dropping to his knees, angrily taking off your shoes. You flinched at the way he threw them across the room, slowly rising and staring you down. The house was quiet—too quiet for comfort—and you licked your lips.
“Topper-.”
“It’s already bad enough seeing you kiss him and be with him and fuck him,” he spat at you, pointing outside. “Even worse when he treats you like shit, and you just won’t leave.”
You frowned at him, tears kissing your eyes.
“I’m…sorry for just hoping he’ll do better…”
“He won’t!”
Topper’s voice bounced off of the walls, and you shrunk away from him as he got in your face.
“How many times does he have to show you that? Why do you still expect better from him, so much so to the point where you’re kissing random guys, now?” he wondered, rearing back away from you with a frown. “Yeah, you wanted to make Rafe angry, but we both know the truth.”
You looked away, pressing your lips together when Topper stepped closer. You could feel his breath on your cheek as he exhaled through his nose, the atmosphere tense.
“Rafe’s mad because you dared to play his own game,” he slowly whispered. “I love you, and we both know it’s me you’re really with, not him, and I’m fucking pissed.”
You swallowed with one look into his eyes, finally finding the strength to face him, and your heart skipped a beat at what you saw there.
Before you could say another word, his lips were on yours, fingers digging into your arms. The sequence of events happened too fast for your drunk brain to catch up with, only gasping when he reached down to press his hand into the small of your back, yanking you closer. If it wasn’t for him holding you, you would’ve tripped over your own feet as he forced you into the living room.
Topper’s teeth nipped at your throat while he pulled at your dress, something Rafe had bought.
“I fucking hate this dress,” he quietly confessed as if reading your mind.
The sound of tearing fabric reached your ears as he forced you to bend back, his arm around you keeping you from collapsing. He kept you against him as he laid you down on the floor, in a hurry to get you at least half naked. His other hand reached behind his head to yank off his shirt, and you only had the sense to hold onto his arms while he kissed along your chest. When his pants were pushed down just enough, he pushed into you with a grunt.
You scratched at his skin at the rough entry, but it took no time for each thrust to become as smooth as they always were whenever he got his hands on you. One of your hands clawed at the rug, and you moaned—loud—when he gripped the hair at the nape of your neck. You suspected that Top had done a line or two tonight, gasping at his uncharacteristically tight grip.
He was fucking you so good that you almost missed the sound of a vehicle in the yard. When you did, your eyes flew open, and you attempted to look around towards the window. You guys were too close to the couch to see over it, and when you whined, pushing against him, Topper only grabbed your hands and pinned them down beside your head.
“Topper, I think…”
You couldn’t get it out, groaning as he curved his hips against yours.
“Fuck him,” he breathed, pounding into you.
The harsh knocks on the door didn’t faze him, and Topper only let one of your hands go to reach down and reach under your thigh. He rested that leg over his shoulder, pushing it towards you as his nose brushed yours, lips parted as he thrust into you. You were dripping around him, teeth sinking into your lip as Rafe knocked on the door again, trying the locked handle. Somewhere, you could hear your phone vibrating…and then Topper’s after a while.
The man on top of you didn’t care, stretching you out, pushing his cock into your tight hole.
“Break up with him, or don’t,” he whispered to you, pressing a kiss to your lips and then your nose. “…but what you pulled tonight is not happening again.”
You drunkenly nodded at him, mewling as he slowed down his thrusts, the sucking sound of his cock plunging into you reaching your ears. You heard your phone vibrate again.
“You know where to find me when he pisses you off.”
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quokkawritesarchive · 4 months
Text
DANCE BETTER — MINHO.
pairing: minho x reader(afab) genre: dancer au!minho, enemies to lovers, smut, NSFW warnings: sub!minho, dom!reader, kinda touch starved minho, oral (f. receiving), handjob, praising, degrading, dirty talk, use of “slut”, “kitten”, “whore”; fingering, cumming untouched, mean minho in the beginning a/n: i decided to expand the scenario that i’ve written for this ask. enjoy!
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dancing has always been a big part of your life. you danced since you could remember and it was the only part of your life that has “always been there” and brought you comfort.
after moving to soul and completing your biggest dream, the first thing that you did was sign up for a dance studio. it looked pretty fun, judging by the text on the brochure. unlike most dance studios in soul, this one had couples dancing. you have never tried this before, so you were very thrilled with the idea of new couples choreo you’d learn.
until you met minho. this guy has been a regular dancer in the studio for quite a long time. you didn’t get along from the beginning. it was honestly still a secret to you why exactly you didn’t get along. he seemed like a pretty chill guy, but with you he always seemed to turn into an asshole.
maybe it was your dancing skills, that finally put him into challenge. he was the best in the group, until you showed up. maybe it was his strategy - to bully you, until you give up and leave. but you were not one of the weak, you were not planning on giving up.
months went by and your dance teacher has acknowledged your skills. to everyone’s surprise, she paired you with minho. your partner at the time was the sweetest guy you’ve ever met. yes, he was a bit slow with learning new choreo and overall he lacked some skill, but honestly, you’d rather be paired with someone who lacks skill than with a man-child.
it quickly evolved into a fight for the title of the best, but now it was inside the pair. you gave your fullest in every practice. you didn’t want to slack off even for one moment. because you knew - the second you relaxed, minho’d leave a harsh comment about your poor dancing skills and that he needed to change his partner immediately.
his verbal bullying evolved as well and turned into putting pranks on you. at his very grown age, he still did some stupid shit, like tying your shoelaces on both sneakers between each other while you were not looking, making you fall afterwards. but you became used to it. you treated it as some sort of challenge that you need to overcome. dancing was no longer there to relieve stress and be your safe space - it became a battleground.
but it wasn’t just minho you were fighting with. your dance teacher didn’t help either. you were used to bullying and you could handle every prank that minho did on you. what you couldn’t handle though, was the sexy choreo that your dance teacher loved to put on. for some reason, she thought that getting random people who interact with each other only during dance practice, to learn the sexiest and most seductive choreography ever was a good idea. every time it became more naughty and awkward for you and minho.
it was your usual thursday after work hours, meaning you were gonna spend time in the company of minho and other people who treat you as an obstacle that needs to be overcome. to be honest with yourself, thoughts about quitting have been coming to you more often these days.
you wouldn’t lie that the new choreo played a big part in your thoughts about quitting. this time it was one particular movement that you refused to do at first. standing in front of your dance partner, you had to roll your hips in circle movement, almost touching your partner’s crotch, while he held you by the waist. awkward? yes. uncomfortable? obviously. too little words to describe your feelings.
you didn’t know, if minho felt the same way, but he never complained once, while you talked to the dance teacher several times about this move. the only response you got was that you need to grow up and it’s just dancing, not fucking. of course.
“one-two-three-four!” dance teacher was counting down, while whole group was repeating that particular part of the choreo once again. “one-two-three-four!”
you circled your hips, feeling minho’s hands on your waist. he didn’t look at you once, while you were repeating this part for the past few minutes - you could see him looking to the side in the mirror.
that’s how he usually behaved - ignored your existence, talked to you only when it was really needed. it was like you were not even there for him.
“good! a couple more times and we’ll move to the next part! let’s repeat that with previous moves and add this at the end! with music now!”
everyone nodded. it was a relief being able to finally go through choreo with music.
following the tempo, you began to do long-learned movements. minho gave you his hand at the right moment, spun you around in place, then turned you to face the mirror, preparing you for the next part of the choreo.
“one-two-three-four!” counting began again, echoing through the walls of the studio.
as always, you put all your passion into the movements. you were precise in the placement of your arms and legs, not wanting to be inferior to minho in anything.
“now the hip part! one-two-three-four!”
you rolled your hips at the count, maybe too passionately, carried on with the thought of beating minho in this unspoken dance battle, cause you forgot that the distance between your ass and minho’s crotch was too little to begin with. it was a soft sigh that reached your ears, causing you to stop your movements.
your eyes widened in surprise. you looked in the mirror, making eye contact with minho, but he broke it almost immediately, looking away, hands still on your waist.
did you really just hear that or was it your imagination?
“cmon, girls! i want you to be passionate about this dance! look at y/n and minho, they always give their best, even if choreography seems “too sexy”, as you all say.”
right. too sexy.
“okay, let’s go through this once again, but now i wanna see a good hip movement, girls!” teacher clapped her hands and put the music back on.
you were trembling, but you couldn’t figure out the source of it - fear or anticipation? because of the constant fighting between the two of you, you’ve never had a change to look at minho in this way. and objectively, he was an attractive guy - veiny hands, big muscular thighs and heart-shaped lips. you bet he had abs too, but you’ve never seen his stomach. for some reason, he hid it and wore only oversized t-shirts.
the thought of touching his crotch with your hips again sent chills down your spine. you had to feel him again.
following the countdown, you let your hips circle a little bit wider, making it seems like an accident again. as soon as you felt your ass slightly brush against minho’s crotch, you heard a quiet whimper. the fact that you could hear it over the blasting music made you aware that minho was not holding back. his grip on your waist tightened, as you saw him close his eyes through the mirror.
oh, he was having a boner for sure.
the realization made your pussy throb. you felt yourself getting wet, panties started to soak with your arousal.
this minho? the same minho who constantly bullied you ever since you took your first step into the studio. the same minho who pulled pranks on you and got on your nerves. the same minho who was currently having a boner, because you rubbed your hips against him.
you thought you were dreaming.
without any thinking, driven by pure lust, you scooted closed to minho and brushed your hips against his bulge, but now with more pressure. the sigh that he let out tightened the knot in your stomach. you had no idea where you were going with this, but the sounds this man was making were driving you crazy. thankfully, the teacher was giving harsh comments to the back line, so you had plenty of time to yourselves.
like a cat in heat, you leaned against minho again, leaving no room between your bodies and pressed your ass right into his boner. he responded so readily, whining out, quietly, brokenly. it sounded so pretty it sent tingles down your spine.
you took a look at his face in the mirror again and smirked. his eyes were shut, eyebrows slightly raised and he looked almost helpless as he breathed heavily. the scene was endearing. you would never have thought that you’d see your main rival in such a state.
his boner was obvious now. you could feel him behind you, throbbing in his sweatpants. but for some unknown reason, he was still not grinding against you. he was not doing nothing to prevent your moves against his boner, but he himself was not moving at all, as a matter of fact. his breathing was becoming heavier with every grind of your hips, little puffs of air hitting the back of your neck, his hands twitching on your waist.
it felt amazing. you’ve got yourself so worked up by just grinding against him. his breathing was tickling your neck and you were biting your lip to hide your own moans.
“alright! back to where we left off!” the voice of your teacher was so sudden it made you jump.
oh, how were you gonna be able to keep dancing like this? your panties were so soaked they were leaking through your sweatpants. minho’s face was slightly red. he probably felt even more uncomfortable than you with a throbbing dick between his legs. this problem needed to be sorted out now.
“sorry! i need a quick bathroom break!” you came up with the dumbest excuse and rushed out of the studio hoping that minho would have enough brain cells to understand and follow you along.
the cold air in the hallway helped you get back to your senses a little. there was a layer of sweat on your forehead and it wasn't because of the dance - minho made you feel this way. so now you were standing in the middle of the hallway with your thighs trembling out of nervousness. what will he do? flip you against the wall and say dirty things in your ear? be rough with you and leave read marks on your ass? you couldn’t keep calm while waiting for him.
seconds passed, but minho didn't show up. you decided to take it as a sign of refusal and were about to return to the studio and continue dancing as if nothing had ever happened. but as soon as you put your hand on the door handle, the door swung open and minho literally flew into you, almost knocking you down.
“oh shit! sorry!” he grabbed you by waist, keeping you in place. your eyes collided.
did he just apologize?
never in your life did you think that you’d be able to hear minho saying these words to you in all seriousness.
“it’s… fine. don’t worry. i thought you weren’t coming, so…” suddenly you felt awkward. you were talking to minho like this? in private?
“ah, she made me show some moves again, cause these idiots still can’t remember shit.” minho chuckled, looking at you searchingly under half-closed eyelids.
sexual tension disappeared, so now it was only two of you in the hallway, looking at each other with questioning looks in the eyes.
he was leaning against the door that went back to the studio, so pinning him right here was not an option - he could have been heard.
you decided to take action slowly, since he was looking at you dumbly, as if he had never touched a woman before. slowly you leaned closer to his lips, brushing yours slightly against his. this simple action made him vocal already.
“shh…” you pulled away, put your fingers on his lips. “if you gonna be so whiny, we have to find another place.”
his nod in response made you chuckle. what happened to the usual asshole that you feared? it seemed like a completely new person was in front of you.
it didn’t take long to find a more private place. locker rooms were free since whole group was currently dancing in the studio.
to your surprise, even now minho continued to act like a shy bitch. his eyes were looking anywhere, but at you. it was honestly adorable and made you horny again.
you took a step closer, pinning him against the wall again as your arms slithered their way to his waist. he gasped when your hips pushed him further against the wall and your knee went between his thighs, parting them apart. a muffled whimper escaped his heart-shaped lips. he couldn’t hold back his low whines, desperation evident through his hard-on that you felt twitch under his pants with each grind of your lower body. you decided not to kiss him yet, even though you craved to feel his soft lips on yours.
instead, you trailed kisses down his neck, while you hand began toying with his crotch. that made minho choke out your name in the most pretty and desperate voice. you hummed against his skin as your lips left slick spots on his neck. minho was already falling apart.
there was not much talking, but you desperately wanted to say something, to degrade him like he did you this whole time.
“so weak for me.” you finally spoke. “what happened to your pride? all gone just because you finally felt some pussy on your dick?”
grin appeared on your face as you heard him moan at your words. his dick was already pulsating in your hand. you could feel it through the fabric. he muttered, trying to get his mind back, which turned blank at your movements.
minho was flustered from head to toe. each rub of your palm was accompanied by a gentle thrust of your hips, and minho couldn't hide the little whimpers that came out of his mouth. you smirked, pressing soft kisses on the corner of his mouth, finally capturing your lips together.
hearing his whimpers against your mouth made you even wetter. his lips were soft as you imagined. he was so cute - falling apart under your touch, but still eager to kiss you, moving his lips along with yours. his legs were trembling in place, still trying to process what was happening.
he made a disgruntled sound, his expression jumped to frustrated when you moved away slightly. feeling the cold surface of the wall against his back was a big contrast to how hot you had made him feel in the blink of an eye.
you had never done anything like this. of course, you had a lot of sex experience, but it was mostly an average sex with some occasional dirty talk from your parter. now it was different. minho made you act like this - so dominating, making him feel like he was yours to touch, and yours only.
feeling the confidence, you slid your hand through his waistband, capturing his throbbing dick in your palm. your quick action made his hips buck up in your fist, eyes widened in surprise.
“looks like someone is about to cum untouched.” you teased, starting to stroke his dick, touching the tip of it with your thumb occasionally.
“please, please, don’t stop-“ he looked at you pleadingly, eyes watering. he needed more.
it struck you how easy it was to get him to beg.
“oh, you look so cute right now.” you cooed at him, freeing his throbbing dick out of his pants. it was swollen and painfully hard, the tip of it red, leaking with precum.
minho was seeing stars already. his body was so sensitive, reacting to your touch in this almost embarrassing way. he had never felt like this before.
“please, don’t tease- just- make me cum-“ his eyes were shut, lips parted, revealing his bunny teeth.
“what makes you think I will make you cum?” you asked him, slowing the pace, but still stroking his hard cock with your hand. 
“b-because I’ve been good-” he stammered hopelessly with his words as he tried not to sound so desperate.
you chuckled. “have you? i only remember you’ve been acting like as asshole to me since the day i saw you.”
“‘m sorry-“ he cried out, soft whimpers leaving his mouth. “‘m so sorry, i will be good now.”
“yeah? is that what you’re saying? that you’ll be a good boy?” 
“yes-s…”
“say it.” you squeezed his dick in your fist, making him choke.
“i’ll be a good boy! i promise! i’ll be good! just please-” oh he was a mess. a whiny, whimpering mess under your touch. your words and your attitude made his dick twitch, which didn’t go unnoticed by you.
“you like it when i say stuff like that? you like it rough?” the grip on his dick tightened with these words. “oh, you are such a slut, minho. who would’ve thought.”
minho groaned, both frustrated and unbelievably turned on. you looked up at his face. eyes shut, pretty flush covering his cheeks and ears. you wanted this face on your pussy.
“get on your knees.” you commanded, feeling more powerful than ever. this man made you act like this and you were enjoying using him however you liked.
minho froze for a second, but still obeyed, slowly sitting down with his face right next to your pussy.
your hands immediately found a place on his head, bringing him closer to your crotch. minho let out a whine, but allowed his face to be dragged, shivering when he realized how compliant he was.
“can you smell it, kitten? how good you making me feel?” you rubbed your hips on his face.
oh he looked so unbelievably hot sitting on his knees with his cock out of the pants, precum dripping on the floor, face buried in your clothed pussy.
“yes-s-“ minho hummed into you, sending vibrations with his voice.
“that’s a good boy.” you praised, pulling minho closer. “now lick.”
there wasn’t much friction with his actions, but the fact that minho was sitting on his knees with his soaking dick in plain sight, licking your pussy through the sweatpants, almost made you cum.
low groans were coming from his mouth and sending vibrations through your cunt, making you even wetter. you had to stop him now, or you were gonna cum without even feeling his lips on your clit.
“enough.” you pulled him away with your hand. “take this off and get to work.”
minho swallowed. the way your voice was saying these things like it was a natural occasion for you two.
he quickly brought his hands to your waistband, sliding everything down in one motion.
it amazed him how wet you were for him. honestly, he still thought that it’s some sort of prank and you were about to show the hidden camera and laugh at him. it couldn’t connect in his mind, that your pussy was clenching around his mouth, while you were desperately trying to mute your moans.
a whimper left your mouth when his tongue started circling around your clit. you honestly thought you’re about to pass out. damn, this man really knew how to eat pussy.
then, you felt the pad of his index and middle finger sliding right into your slit. you were too soaked to make him take his hands away and beg to touch you, so you just let him finger you.
his fingers kept going in and out, while lips were making out with your clit. small little whines were leaving him at your taste. you couldn’t help, but started whining as well, holding onto his head.
he quickly realized that you had nothing to hold onto besides his head and your thighs were starting to tremble.
“i think you should-“ he pulled away for a second to gently tapped you on your thigh, signaling that you should move closer to the wall.
now that you had more support, your self-confidence was back and dirty talked continued. minho didn’t even wait for your order, immediately attaching his lips back to your cunt.
"you are such a slut, aren't you-" you moaned.
his puffy lips wrapped around your swollen clit as he sucked, pushing his nose against your cunt. he desperately tried to take more than he could possibly handle.
for some reason, he knew exactly how to please you, exactly how to lick and suck on your clit to have you gasping out for air. slipping his tongue all along your folds and lapping at you eagerly, he couldn’t get enough of your taste. it was supposed to be a punishment for him so that he could fuck you later, but it turned out to be a reward. who knew that minho loved eating pussy. you've completely flooded his senses. the only thing he could smell, the only thing he could taste on his tongue was your pussy.
“such a good boy you are.” uncontrollable moans left your mouth as you kept riding his face. “or should i say kitten? slut? whor-“
suddenly a warm, white load spilled over your leg, cutting you off. minho’s lips left your clit as he kept cumming over the floor and your leg. and all of that because you used some dirty talk?
the flush on his face deepened. broad chest heaved with every pant.
“come on.” you gave him a minute to restore breathing, then bringing him back to your pussy by the hair again. “i’m not done with you.” 
he was a little shaky and boneless from coming, but still obeyed, latching his pretty lips back on your pussy.
the image of him cumming under you untouched and spilling his cum all over your leg replayed in your head, helping you reach you climax quickly. you held onto his hair harder, bringing him impossibly closer to your throbbing pussy, riding his face through your orgasm.
your legs trembled as you almost fell down on the floor, but minho’s strong hands held you in place, tongue never leaving you as you kept cumming.
“wow…” you breathed out after finally being done with your orgasm.
minho was still sitting between your thighs, looked like he liked it there.
flush was still all over his face. you didn’t know of what exactly he was ashamed of, but you guessed it was all together. you sat down in front of him and cupped his cheeks, leaving a quick peck on his lips.
“i don’t know how you really feel, but i am just gonna say, that i enjoyed it and we can talk about it later, if you are not ready now.” you looked into his eyes, making your words clear. “there is no need to be ashamed of anything.”
minho didn’t have time to reply. the approaching sounds of voices made it clear that the training was over and your group was heading here.
minho panicked. he was still in the women's locker room, on his knees with a dick hanging out of his pants. the puddle of cum was still underneath you.
in a matter of seconds, he shoved his dick back into his pants and ran to the door. but he was not fast enough, colliding with one of the girls in the doorway.
she didn’t say anything. just let him run out of the room and then shot you the dirty glare. well, apparently everyone has already found out.
-> reblog to support me, if you enjoyed reading this and please let me know your thoughts in the comments! ♡
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girlokwhatever · 5 days
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can you do like reader is mad at paige n paige yk the attitude right outta her?
CERTAINLY I CAN!!!!
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⋆·˚ ༘ *𓍢ִ໋₊˚*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆𖡎 are you done yet? ,,
paige bueckers x fem!reader
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you’ve been wanting to leave this club for the past hour.
the crowd was large when you got here, but since then it’s only grown. the air is hot and tacky, causing you to stick to each person you pass. it was nasty really, even worse on the dance floor.
your feet were aching and the lace from your top was scratching against your chest, only adding to your discomfort. a sheen layer of sweat covered your skin from head to toe and it seemed everyone else was experiencing the same thing.
you were just leaving the dance floor, jostling around larger bodies to get to the bar where you last saw your girlfriend. she had been talking to some guy about basketball when you’d left, but now she’s replaced her company for a woman around your age. you were slightly jealous and definitely angry. she had barely paid you any mind within the past hour, constantly occupying herself with other people. even after you tugged on her hand and asked her so nicely if the two of you could just go home.
that was an hour ago though. your desire to leave only grew in the time frame, as well as your annoyance.
you walked straight to paige, trying to find your balance among the numerous bodies. there wasn’t really a chair available, so you opted for leaning against her, one hand at the back of her neck and the other adjusting your top.
“hi baby-“
“can we go?” the abruptness of your question shocked paige. her eyebrows raised and she gave you a ‘really?’ look. you’re deadpanning though, attitude written across your face in neon bold lettering. if she wouldn’t take your hints earlier, you’d stop dropping them.
she’s pulling you between her and the bar and onto her lap. though it relieves the aching in your legs and feet, it’s not really what you wanted. she’s leaning up, lips just behind your ear and muttering a quick “don’t be a brat.”
you roll your eyes at that, finding her antics absolutely ridiculous. you’d been here with her all night, letting her enjoy herself while you suffered. you usually didn’t mind going out and having some fun; the club tonight had been too packed for you though. everywhere you went, every time you turned around, there was someone within whispering distance to you.
at this point, you stop considering the consequences of your actions. you grab her car keys out of her pocket and leave the club. paige is absolutely flabbergasted, excusing herself and following behind you with haste. she feels her body grow hot with anger watching you walk away from her without so much as a look back.
why were you so pissed?
her stride is much longer than yours so she’s catching up to you in no time. she grabs your wrist and her keys simultaneously, turning you around and stopping you in your tracks.
“what the hell is your problem? hm?” she emphasizes her point with the tight grip on hour jaw, staring straight at you. you’re both tipsy, you more so than her, and it throws your usual rationality out the window. you push her away from you, watching with satisfaction as she stumbles back a step.
she makes you so angry but fuck does she look good. you’re scoffing right to her face and doing it loudly. as though her feelings are ludicrous, completely irrelevant and wrong.
“my problem?! you know what- whatever. you stay here if you want. i’ll walk home. need a break from you anyway.”
if you had left the last part off, paige wouldn’t have been as mad as she was. in all honesty, she would’ve just taken you home peacefully after giving you a kiss and apologizing for keeping you here so long. but, you did add the last part. you looked your girlfriend in the face and told her you were tired of her.
“say that again, i dare you.” her tone is taunting and you know it’s a trap, but you do it anyway.
“you’re getting on my nerves and i need a break from you.” you’re punctuating every word, but little do you know it’s only fueling your girlfriend.
as soon as you say it you’re being pushed into the backseat of her car. she’s climbing in after you, closing the door as she tries so desperately to fit her frame into the small space. paige pulls her loose hairs into a bun, leaning over you once she’s finished.
“wanna act so fucking tough and mean- gonna get rid of your attitude baby. till all you can say is my name.”
“i bet you couldn’t.”
oh. challenge accepted.
your skirt is hiked up, panties pulled to the side as paige prods you with her fingers. she notices the way the street lamp makes your cunt shine from your wetness, smirking at your situation. she’s knees deep into the backseat, pushing two fingers into you at once.
you cry out at the new and sudden stretch. she doesn’t give you time before her fingers thrust roughly in and out of you at a brutal pace. they’re curling inside of you, already finding the spot that makes your back arch to heaven.
“you like that?” you say nothing, make no motion of acknowledgement. smoke is blowing from her ears at this point, not able to believe how stubborn you’re being right now, even as she plunges her fingers into your sopping wet cunt. your silence only motivates her to speed up, because sure, you didn’t say any words, but your loud moans spoke for you. your body is so responsive to paige, it always has been. every time she touches you, you lean into it. every time she kisses you, you’re chasing her lips when she pulls away.
just like right now. the way your core tightens and she feels it, moving away and watching your hips follow her fingers when she denies you your orgasm. you’re protesting, begging for her to continue and cryimg out her name like a chant. your hair is already a mess and your girlfriend’s heart pounds, using every bit a restraint to stop herself from giving into your pleas.
“are you done being a brat yet?”
“paige-“
“apologize and i’ll let you cum, how does that sound?” she’s rubbing and kissing your thighs, watching the way you squirm at the proposal.
even from her position between your legs she sees the battle you’re having with yourself. she almost thinks for a moment you’ll brave the storm and say no, but deep down she knows there’s only one option for you. she can tell by the way you push your hips into her face.
“i’m sorry paigey. i was.. fuck- i wasn’t being nice. i’m sorry for being mad and giving you attitude.” your voice is weak and it’s turning her on so much to hear you like this, begging for her completely. she doesn’t know how genuine your apology actually is, but she doesn’t care either.
her tongue twirls your clit, gentle and slow to tease you. it’s excruciating, the feeling making you screw your eyes shut as your mouth falls open. you’re moaning her name out too, just like she said you would be.
she’s sucking on your clit now, toying with it and gauging your different reactions to different movements. she knows what you like already (nearly everything from her) but the look of pure ecstasy on your face will never get old. you grind your hips down onto her face, desperate to find your release. you can feel it tightening in your stomach and making your head spin, but just as quickly as it came, it’s being ripped away from you.
paige is sitting upright now, readjusting your clothes and wiping around her chin where she feels the remains of you. she’s licking her fingers and lips clean, staring at your shocked expression, one singular tear rolling down your cheek.
“what’s wrong baby?”
“you said-“
“should’ve thought about it better honey. i’m jus’ giving you space since you’re so tired of me. just like you wanted right?”
you don’t miss her shit-eating grin as she leaves the backseat. she plops into the driver’s seat, glancing back at you momentarily. she places a hand on your thigh and it makes you jolt at the sensitivity, legs aching more now than they were before.
“i hope it’s everything you wished for and more.”
*♡∞:。.。˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
paige is sassy and mean but what’s new??!
anyways, hope you enjoyed 😘
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imsilay · 6 months
Text
à la folie
“to insanity.”
summary: You shouldn’t have been such a tempting little thing, because he was a jealous man and would want to keep you all for himself :)
not proofread sorry cus i wrote this in 2 hours or something idk. :>
word count: 2.3k (please take this as an apology)
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cr: Dwisesz
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König was thankful, he really was. God blessed him the most beautiful little thing in world. You. And he knew once he had you within his hand there was no going back. At first he tried to resist the temptation. You were just so young and naive. A little adorable thing who get along with everyone. He knew it would be a problem. He knew he would want to lock you in his house, or preferably chained to his bed, and keep you away from those who’d want to steal you from him. He knew his jealousy was not something he could control even if he wanted. Even when he was a little child he’d hide all his toys so other kids wouldn’t steal or break them. He’d keep them to himself and only for his playing. Even at his age he’d keep his weapons to himself, taking care of them well and not letting anyone to touch but him.
So he knew once you were his he’d want to possess every inch of you. He’d want to own every inch, no, every cell of your being. It was just his nature, it was how he grew up. Thus, he couldn’t get you out of his mind since he first felt your hands on his skin. It was a simple touch, you just had to check his wound since there was no medic around to treat that mountain of a man. Your delicate fingers helping him strip from his gear and hold his shirt up. You couldn’t help but admire how broad he was. His abs looked so hard and toned you had to bite inside your cheeks to not test it yourself. You quickly let go of his shirt letting him hold it to his chest as you focused on the task in hand. You chewed the insides of your cheeks to not make any mistakes or anything that would make him know how his body effected you. Oh, he could see that. Your cheeks flushed bright red and your pupils dilated as you try to hide your face from his predatory gaze with letting your hair fall into the sides of your face. Did you really get nervous like that from just seeing his body? Was that why your hands were shaking as you cleaned and covered his wound? It was really adorable to see you stumble and get all bashful when you gave him some aspirin for his pain.
It wasn’t unusual for him to get ladies nervous around him. His height and his body was a great effect on getting everyone scared of him which lead them to be nervous, frightened. Involuntarily intimidating people was something he couldn’t help, but he wasn’t complaining though. It always made things easier for him when he didn’t wanted to talk with anyone. It wasn’t like he didn’t wanted to, his usual behavior was cocky and energetic but only with the people he was comfortable with. And he couldn’t stop thinking about you since. Because why you weren’t scared of him the slightest, yet you were biting your delicious-looking pouty lips whenever you glanced towards him, thinking he wouldn’t notice or care, making him wonder why you were interested in him and not afraid like everyone else. Although he had tried to ignore you, your little temptations, his efforts were in vain. You successfully captured his mind, filling it with you so much that he couldn’t think anything but you.
After a few months of eyeing and sometimes flirting, you managed to break him. One night when you were about to go back to your quarters for a good sleep after your night shift, a large hand grabbed your arms and pulled you into one of the rooms. Another hand covered your mouth when you were about to scream. The room was dark and the scent lingered in was familiar, but you couldn’t make anything of it. Until the man pinned your body against the door and pressed his forehead against yours. It wasn’t because you saw his face, it was because you felt the fabric against your skin. It was Colonel. You stopped squirming once you recognized him. He pressed his lips on your forehead through his mask as he let go of your mouth. “Are you tired, Maus?” he whispered, his lips still on your forehead as he spoke. His voice was hoarse. Your heart was beating like crazy and adrenaline still rushing through your veins since he pulled you in. “Y-yeah, the night was long.” you stuttered with your slightly trembling voice. It was strange that how casual the conversation was despite your position. One of his hands came to rest on the side of your neck as the other still held your arm firmly as if he was afraid you’d leave. “You can rest in my room, i have a nice mattress.” he mumbled as his thumb stroked your pulse, feeling it increase under his touch. And just to feel your reaction to his touch was making him so fucking hard. His intentions were obvious, and he had no worries to hide it anymore. You were the one who started it anyway. You remained silent but he didn’t needed to hear your answer anyway. He already knew what you wanted and he was more than happy to oblige you. His hand on your neck found his mask and pushed it up just enough to reveal his lips. When he pressed his lips against yours he felt like he found his heaven on earth. Oh, how much he craved these delicious-looking lips. His other hand finally let go of your arm and found your hips. He lifted you up with ease and made you wrap your legs around his waist. Your arms wrapped around his neck, desperately trying to pull him more into kiss. He pressed your back against the wall ince again but this time you could feel his hard cock between your legs. When your nails dug into his nape because how feverish he was with his kiss and not letting you take a breath, he groaned into your mouth. Mistaking -actually just ignoring your pathetic attempts to push him because he didn’t wanted to let go of your lips- your action with a sign to continue he pressed his thumb to your chin, making you open your mouth enough for him to discover your sweet mouth with his tongue. The kiss evolved into a sloppy and messy one as he didn’t stop the attacks of his tongue and the grinding of his hips. You were already soaking from having him kiss you breathless and feeling his cock against your aching cunt. So once he run out of breath and let go of your lips, strings of salvia was connecting between your lips. He looked down at you, his hood fell back onto his face and masked his face again. You didn’t knew how he managed to but he found the light switch and turned the lights on, with you still in his arms whining and grinding whenever his crotch pressed against yours. “Don’t be eager, Maus.” he murmured when you whined as he placed you onto his mattress. His bed was big and comfortable fitting the colonel, unlike yours. “You will get enough of me today.” he promised. The thickness in his accent made your stomach tense. He looked like a god as he got on his knees between your legs, his bulky figure forcing your legs to spread open. You looked so tasty when you were sprawled in his bed, but you’d look delicious if you were naked. So his hands did a quick job to remove your top, unfasten your bra and nearly tore your bottoms with how eager he got to see more of you.
And there you were, on display for him and solely him. He drank up the sight in front of him, carefully tracing his fingers on your skin, from your neck to lower. His gaze was so intense and he looked so hungry for you it made you feel like a prey before a predator. So you tried to bring your knees together when his fingers got dangerously close to your crotch. His brows frowned quickly, he clicked his tongue with disapproval. “Nein, Maus. Be a good girl f’me. Keep those pretty legs open.” he stared down at you until you obliged his wish -demand- and spread your legs once again. “Braves Mädchen.” he purred as his fingers continued their path and stopped on your wetness. His thick fingers spread your folds so he could see your throbbing clit and soaking hole. “So fucking pretty.” he hissed as he palmed his cock through the fabric of his cargo pants. You gasped when the pad of his thumb started to draw slow circles on your clit. Your soft mewls only making it harder for him to hold himself back. “Feels good, ja?” he cooed when you got even wetter and whiny. The sight of you squirming just with his fingers made his heart skip a beat. He wondered how messy you’d get when he buried himself balls deep inside you. Oh, he needed that. He needed to be in that pretty cunt, he needed to feel your tight walls milking him, clinging to him for his hot cum. But he was a man aware of his size and he knew it would only hurt you if he put it in now, despite you soaking his sheets with your slick. So he slid his middle finger into your tight hole. You gasped and moaned softly when your cunt greedily sucked his finger in and wrapped around the thick digit like a glove. He could feel your walls clench around his finger and it only mad his cock throb in his pants. So he hurried to add another finger and to his surprise it went in pretty easily. “Does this pussy wants me so much, hm? She opens up for me so easily.” he chuckled lightly when you whined and clenched around his fingers again in response. “Atta girl.” he cooed when he decided you were opened up enough for him. He withdrew his fingers from your wet pussy and pushed them into your mouth so you would whine too loudly to have them back in your greedy cunt. His free hand quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants just enough to sprung his cock free. And god he was big. He sucked a sharp breath when he finally freed himself from the confines of his pants. Your eyes were blown wide with how big he was, not just the length of it- it was also thick. You knew it’d hurt with just the look of it. König realized how you looked at his cock. It pampered his ego, since he was a cocky bastard, and made him chuckle lightly. “Don’t worry Maus, König will make it fit.” he pulled his fingers out of your mouth and with a devilish grin, hidden under his mask, he stoked his rock hard length before lining it to your opening and slowly sinking in. "Scheiße." he hissed when your tight hole struggled to take him in. You sobbed and told him it hurt but he didn’t pulled out. Instead of words he kissed your lips to reassure you and his thumb drew circles on your clit, trying to make you forget about the pain and focus to the pleasure. After a few kisses and massages your muscles relaxed and finally he could slide further into you. Your walls were still tight, wrapping around his cock like a glove but not too tight to resist him. And once he was fully inside he groaned into your lips and dropped his head to your neck. He waited until your soft sobs vanished and replaced with pleas for him to move.
You grounded your hips drawing a deep moan from both of you. “Want me to move?” he whispered into your neck, his strong arms caged you underneath him as he stayed balls deep inside you. “Y-yes please… Move.” and he did. His hips started its movements slowly, still not wanting to hurt you or cause any discomfort. But when you whimpered softly as your nails dug into his back, breaking the skin and drawing some blood something in his mind snapped. His thrusts became stronger, faster, harder. He started to rut into you restlessly until you’re a sobbing and blabbering mess. “Slow- oh my…” you tried to tell him to slow down but go faster. You seemed to can’t think properly with how good he was fucking you. “Such a good pussy.” he growled as he straightened his back and grabbed your hips to fuck you harder. He wanted to ruin you so you couldn’t even walk out of his room without his help. He wanted to make you so dependent on him that you couldn’t even talk with others without him being your side. Or even better, if he was lucky, you wouldn’t get out of his room until he’s with you. He knew his thoughts were caveman like but he couldn’t help it. Just thinking about having you to all himself made his head spin. It was your fault tho. He did his best to ignore you, knowing his nature, but you insisted so there you were, moaning his name as he drew orgasm after orgasm from you. And finally emptying his balls into your wet core and plugging his semen in with his fingers. He made sure to not waste any drop. And when you whine about how rough he was he’d kiss you all over, apologize for everything and promise to not do it again.
And later that night when you tried to get uo for work in the morning he wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you back into bed. “You have to rest.” he pressed tender kisses on your shoulders and promised he’d talk with your uppers himself. So you agreed to stay. But it didn’t stopped with one day. When you tried to leave he’d just get you confused then fuck you good in his bed, and the circle never broke after that day.
“Don’t worry, Maus. I will take good care of you. You’re mine now.”
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a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i love to reply all of them :>
not me starting new series instead of finishing my previous works _φ(・_・
anyway hope you guys liked it!
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strawbeerossi · 6 months
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Sweet Treat
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Penelope gives you aphrodisiac chocolates as a gag gift. Whenever you and Spencer have a movie night, you both don’t realize what sweets you are delving into.
Content/Warnings: Awkward little banter between friends, mutual pining is mentioned, food/eating, aphrodisiacs, unprotected sex
Word Count: 2.4K
Kinktober Day Twenty Three: Aphrodisiacs
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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“Penelope, what the hell is this?” You asked, a laugh leaving your lips as you looked over the container of what looked to be normal chocolate. “Well! I found it online and apparently it’s some of that chocolate that you eat and you just wanna go crazy on the first person you see.” She giggled.
A girls night meant all sorts of things but whenever Penelope pulled out presents, you knew exactly where this was going. You and the girls had met up at her place about an hour ago. After ordering Chinese takeout and having way too much wine, the night had taken a bit of a turn when it came to discussions. Women talk. Sex was a main topic between you and your small friend group.
“So you are giving them to me?! P, I don’t even have a boyfriend.” You laughed. “Who needs a boyfriend whenever you can have fun with anyone in the world. Just keep them.”
And so you did. It was days after the fact whenever you were inviting Spencer over for a marathon of your favorite show. It was going to be fun, you and your best friend from the office watching your favorite show together. He’d offered to pick up food on the way, which he’d stuck with a good Thai place that you both had eaten at numerous times before whenever you got back from a particularly late case.
Spencer was your best friend on the team, the both of you being closer in age compared to the rest of the crew you worked with. Plus you had similar interests when it came to books, movies, among other things. You’d greeted him with a wide smile the minute the door opened. “Hey!” You grinned while moving to hug him. Despite his disdain for hugs or being touched, he’d slowly began to let you in more. He was happy to hug you or have you hold his hand whenever you needed to pull him somewhere else in a crowded room without losing him.
He enjoyed being by your side. Honestly, he was sure he was in love with you because of how caring you were. You listened to his rambles and even asked him further questions. You even laughed at the jokes that were complicated to understand. You were truly a light shining bright on the team. “I hope you have snacks because I didn’t even stop.” Spencer groaned after returning the hug with one arm as his foot kicked the front door shut. “I do. I have a lot in the kitchen.” You assured.
You'd started the new season of your show together and gotten through dinner within a few episodes before Spencer disappeared into the kitchen as you paused the program on tv. “Don’t take too long! I gotta see how this plays out!” You called while leaning back against the couch, pulling the blanket over your body while letting out a soft hum. Spencer had ended up grabbing some chocolate. Which he didn’t read over the label as he grabbed a tab from the container and looked it over. “That’s cute. It’s got little shapes.” He chuckled to himself, breaking one in half as he was moving to take a bite from the rich milk chocolate. It was to die for, so he had to take the other half to you so you could try before you both tore into the bag together.
“Try this. It’s so rich. I actually love it.” He’d commented. You weren’t paying attention to what the chocolate looked like, bringing it up to your nose and smelling it before you were pulling the piece in your mouth. Which it was delicious, your eyebrows raising. “Wow, that really is good.” You laughed, watching as Spencer was sitting down and passing over snacks to you. “We can eat the chocolate later. You know sweet stuff can either send me flying on the walls or I end up feeling bad to do anything.” Fair enough.
It was an hour later when you were on another episode, your body was feeling hot as you shifted uncomfortably on the couch. You wouldn’t like to think that you were attracted to the program, it was a horror series and you were in the middle of a chase scene. So why else were you squirming?
Just as you were going to excuse yourself to take care of the heat in your belly, you noticed Spencer shifting uncomfortably, a pillow resting over his lap. Then you thought about the chocolate, your eyes widening as you were shooting up from the couch and rushing to the kitchen. Spencer watched you, turning slightly on the couch to watch you curiously through the doorway. That’s when you see the box, a soft groan leaving your lips as you lifted up the sex candy while bringing a hand up to rest against your face. ‘
Just great. You knew you should’ve just put it in your room.
“Spencer.” The sound of your voice had him nearly jumping out of his skin as he quickly faced the tv again. “Yeah?” He asked as his hand clutched the pillow harder. Maybe you’d caught him. Even someone who wasn’t a profiler could tell there was something going on, not to mention the growing tension between the both of you.
Mutual pining was normal and you both weren’t exempt from that. Spencer was an awkward rambler but you found it endearing. Just as he found you as equally as endearing even if you were quiet a good majority of the time and relished in his ramblings about whatever was brought up. You both enjoyed each other's presence, the two of you spending time together more often than not.
Those unsaid mutual feelings made this whole situation worse.
You approached the couch again as you slowly sat down beside Spencer again, body leaning back against the couch as you could feel yourself hot, face flushed as you couldn’t sit still to save your life. Spencer had now taken notice, clearing his throat. “I-I uh.. I may need to leave soon. M-mom’s facility called.” A lie but it would be a smooth getaway.
“Oh, yeah. Uh, it might be for the best! I forgot that I have to..” Your eyes glanced around the room. “Reorganize my bookshelf!” Less subtle. “R-right. Uh, This seems weird but can you close your eyes for a minute? I just..” His eyes were glued on the pillow, making you bring your eyes down as well. “O-oh.”
“It’s not because of the show!” He squeaked, face bright red as he was looking back at the screen. “I don’t- I don’t know why but I was looking at you and it just.. I don’t know!” He whined. His awkwardness made it hard for him to admit why there was a pillow on his lap outright, however you had clocked the reasons why.
“You know the chocolate..? Uh, Penelope gave me them the other day as a joke and they are.. They are essentially just sex chocolate.” Your face was hot, chest rising and falling as you were feeling the gush of slick in your panties from the heightened arousal. “Wait. Aphrodisiacs?!” Spencer was looking at you with wide eyes, mouth agape in shock. Well, at least he didn’t feel as bad from getting hard after giving you a few glances. There was a reason behind it.
The both of you stared at one another, faces hot and eyes blown out with lust. “So uh.. How long does this last?” Spencer finally asked, his brain being too clouded over with lust as he stared in your direction. “I-I wouldn’t know.. I never used them.” Your nose crinkled as the both of you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from one another. “I, uh, I lied about my reason to leave.” He stated the obvious while you couldn’t help but let a little laugh escape your lips. “I know..” You admitted, slowly pushing yourself to stand. “I um.. I don’t actually have to reorganize my bookshelf either..” You laughed awkwardly while heading over to stand in front of your best friend, hand moving to gently rest over the pillow. “I don’t want you to go.. Not yet. Can you, um, help me out a little bit? I trust you and you are here.” You rambled on as you put your hands together slowly. Spencer was looking at you with wide eyes as he nodded slowly.
“I’ll help.” You were both a bit awkward at first, the male letting you move the pillow before you were straddling his waist, the show in the background continuing to run as your best friend was blushing nervously. “I gotta admit that I’ve only done this one time before..” He spoke while you offered a smile. “It’s alright.” You whispered as you let your head dip down to connect your lips with his. Your bodies were buzzing with electricity as you were deepening the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair while his hands were gripping your hips.
You never thought you’d be in this position, tongue in your closest friend’s mouth while your hips were grinding down against his. You felt a fire inside of you, your body desperate to be bare and touched. As you pulled out of the kiss much to Spencer’s dismay, you were tugging your shirt over your head before tossing it somewhere else in the room. The sight of your breasts in a white bra had Spencer’s Adams apple bobbing as his eyes were trained on the lace that accentuated your skin. “It’s pretty right? One of my favorites.” You comment while watching his eyes stare at your tits with a new sense of hunger in his eyes.
You took it as a great sign as your hand was reaching behind you, unclasping the top before letting it fall somewhere with your shirt. His hands were quickly coming up to cup your breasts before he was just diving right in, wet kisses being pressed against your skin before his lips were wrapping around your nipple, tongue flicking over the nub as your fingers tangled in his hair. “Fuck.” You cursed while his attention was focused on your chest.
Your body was perfect.
As he had gotten enough though, he was pulling back to examine your chest that was covered in a few hickies and your hardened nipples. “You look so pretty.” It wasn’t akin to being called a whore or a slut but you honestly liked it. The way he complimented your body had your cheeks heating up as you were lifting your hips when he had gained enough confidence to work on your pants. He’d tugged down your pants and panties before working on his own pants.
“Eager?” You commented, a little giggle leaving your lips as Spencer looked at you as if you’d grown another head. “Have you seen yourself?! Of course I’m eager!” He defended himself, causing the both of you to share a laugh. “I hate to rush this but-” He was cut off by a groan as your hand reached between you both to give his leaking cock a few tugs. “I know, me too. You can make up for the lack of foreplay later.” You wiggled your eyebrows as you pressed your lips against his once more, your leaking hole sinking down onto his cock.
The both of you had let out moans muffled in one another’s mouths as your hips rocked slowly, getting adjusted to the man’s thick cock. It was always the awkward nerds who had the best surprises.
Your head was falling on his shoulder as he held your hips with a bruising grip. He wasn’t one to have sex often, not being lucky like Derek in the department of women effortlessly throwing themselves at him. He knew that this scenario was one he never imagined happening, your velvety walls clenching tightly around this bare cock while you essentially used him as a human dildo to get yourself off.
He wasn’t complaining in the slightest, watching your face contort in ecstasy as his hips were thrusting upwards to slam into your leaking cunt, a groan falling from his lips as his head tilted back against the sofa. You were whining and moaning with each thrust that he matched with your movements, eventually pushing the one place you needed most. The impact had your hands clutching tightly to his shoulders as you let your mouth fall open with a soft cry.
“Oh my god, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Your words were slurred, the effects of the aphrodisiacs heightening all of your arousal so you felt like you were going to burst at the seams. Your body was hot, hips surely bruised by Spencer’s rough grip as he slammed into you as well as your legs shaking from their position.
When you did hit your peak, you were tightly grabbing Spencer’s shoulders as your hips slammed down into his lap, ass hitting his thighs at an unsteady rhythm. Spencer however, was quickly flipping you both over, your body sprawled out against your living room couch as he was rolling on top of you.
Taking the opportunity, he wasn’t skipping a beat as his hips slammed into yours, your sensitive cunt contracting around his cock as he was bringing himself to climax. As your moans and whines from overstimulation echoed in the apartment, his own whines of desperation were falling from his lips.
His cock twitched inside of your used pussy, quickly making the effort to pull out of you as he jerked at his leaking cock, a low huff leaving his lips as ropes of cum were now pooling in your stomach, glazing your bare skin as he let out a weak whine. As you lay there covered in his spent, your chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace as you made the effort to catch your breath.
“I think that chocolate needs to be thrown away to avoid incidents like this again,” his voice pulled you out of your post sex haze as you laughed a little. “Are you kidding? I think we need to do this every time we watch our show together.” You teased, making Spencer shake his head with a smile.
“At least hide it for when you have anyone else over. I don’t think I’ll survive if this mix up happens with someone else.”
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swiftlyinlove · 4 months
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Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do
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pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader
summary: You and Spencer are best friends, but there's always been a little spark between you. When he cancels your plans for Christmas, you're determined to prove that you know him better than anyone else.
warnings: idiots in love, christmas fluff, a little angst if you squint??
word count: approximately 4.5k
a/n: Hi! It's been a long time since I wrote much of anything, but writing this for Christmas has been an absolute joy. I love Spencer so much, and this poor boy just suffers... I wanted to give him a happy ending for Christmas - or a happy beginning. I hope you like it.
The first thing you realized after the beep signaled the end of the phone call was how weird Spencer was acting lately.
To be fair, you two had an unconventional friendship. Due to the nature of his job, Spencer was often busy and therefore you couldn’t communicate as much as you'd like to, but you'd set up a base rule to make sure you never lost touch with one another: mandatory Friday night video call.
Every Friday, without fail, you would Facetime. Spencer wasn’t fond of technology, you were aware, but he’d gladly face his prejudice and lack of knowledge of anything digital if it meant talking to you. It didn't matter if he was home or if he was in another state for a case; come nine pm on a Friday, you two would be catching up about your lives.
That, of course, meant that you'd grasp at every opportunity you could to be with each other. He was in town for a case? You would meet up and have dinner if he had time; if he was doing something important and couldn’t finish it in time for dinner, he would drop by your place at the craziest hour in the morning and lie down next to you, gently shaking you awake to reveal he had gotten take out from your favorite restaurant.
Despite being awakened from your slumber, you would greet him with the brightest smile he’s ever seen - well, after letting out a little shriek of surprise, to which Spencer would respond with an “It’s me, little menace” and a chuckle that would make your heart flutter every time. 
The nickname had originated from your childhood. Spencer didn’t have many friends in middle school, and the fact that he was much smarter than kids his age didn’t help. His classmates either made fun of him or avoided him altogether, but you were… different. 
When you first moved into town, you were very nervous for your first day of school. Making friends was never easy for you, as your peers would deem you rather weird for always having your nose stuck in books. However, you quickly realized you had nothing to worry about - it took one look at little Spencer Reid, reading Crime and Punishment at the lunch table, for you to know you had found your place.
You sat next to him, ignoring the snickers from the so-called “popular kids”. He hesitantly lifted his gaze from the wrinkled pages - you reckoned he had probably read that book many times before -, expecting to see someone with a mean scowl ready to taunt him.
Instead, his wide eyes were met with your bright smile, your rosy cheeks, and your adorable ponytails, and he frowned in confusion. “Hello…?”
“Hi. I’m Y/N.” You greeted him excitedly. There was something about him that made you feel confident, so you continued. “I’m new here and I noticed you were sitting alone. And that seems like a really cool book if you don’t mind me saying, and I just thought you-”
You cut yourself off, realizing you were rambling. You could feel your cheeks warming up, and you were sure you looked as flustered as you were feeling. Before you could even dwell on how embarrassed you felt, Spencer’s lips broke into a smile. 
And that was it. From that moment on, you had been inseparable. Well, perhaps not physically; after all, he was academically way ahead of you and everyone else, and he even managed to graduate from high school at only twelve years old. 
That didn’t stop you from hanging out every moment you could, nor from exchanging letters every single day when he went to college. To this day, you still had those letters, safely tucked into a charming wooden box you kept on your bookshelf, but you’d never tell him that (although you were sure he knew, as the great profiler he was).
So, despite being separated due to your busy jobs - his more than yours - and living in different states, it wasn’t a surprise when you started arranging to spend the holidays together.
Since his mother was still institutionalized, Spencer didn't really have anyone to celebrate the holidays with and therefore didn't care much for the traditions. You, on the other hand, loved the holidays, but since your parents had passed away when you were in college, you were also alone during the season.
Thus, you cut a deal. Every year, he would use his extra vacation days to take a week off around Christmas and you would take turns visiting each other. Usually, you were both very excited about this occasion – it was one of the rare opportunities you had to be together in person, and you missed each other terribly.
This year, though... You had just called Spencer to confirm the date so you could book your flight to Quantico, and he had simply managed to say he couldn’t take time off before hanging up on you.
You were confused by this but chalked it up to it being one of those days for him. Working at the BAU, Spencer had to deal with a lot of gruesome cases often and, after a really bad one, he didn't find any energy to do much of anything.
While he'd never avoided you per se, when those days coincided with your phone calls, you would try to comfort him the best you could, and sometimes even managed to cheer him up a little. 
This time, you didn't even have the chance to, and that threw you off. Still, if Spencer was in a bad mood, maybe he just didn't feel like talking. Not even to you.
Deciding to not push it any further, it's only a few days later that you brought up your trip to Quantico, this time via text. You spent the entire day nearly jumping at your phone each time it vibrated, expecting a notification with his name on it.
It was only later that night that you'd get your answer in the form of an ‘I can't this year’. You read the text over and over again, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. Perhaps it had been wishful thinking, but you had hoped that, once he was in a better mood, he would be just as eager as you for your shared holiday season. 
It occurred to you that perhaps something happened, perhaps he couldn't file for a vacation because he had a big case that he couldn't step away from.
But if that were the case, he would've told you so. He would've explained, apologized even, and tried to schedule another date for your trip to make it up to you. So, you concluded, he just didn't want to see you.
That thought haunted you for the entire week.
Finally having enough of feeling blue and not getting any work done, you decided to go straight to the source in search of answers. Well, source adjacent - Spencer was still replying rather coldly to your texts, so you couldn’t ask him directly. Penelope Garcia was the next best thing.
You had met the members of the BAU after a particularly successful case in your city. Their flight would only leave in the morning and Spencer thought he could take the opportunity to take you to the cinema for a late-night movie, just like the good old days of your adolescence.
However, Penelope and Rossi had other plans. To properly celebrate their hard work that led to saving multiple women who had been kidnapped a few weeks prior, they decided to take the team out for dinner in a nice restaurant.
“And it’s mandatory. It’s not like we have anything else to do tonight, so no excuses.” She had warned in a playfully threatening tone. 
Spencer shifted in his spot while putting away his things in his satchel. After all the years he worked at the BAU, he still hadn’t told his coworkers - his found family, really - about you. It was the one thing he kept close to his chest, the one secret he wanted to keep forever.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he brushed his hair behind his ears, not daring to turn and face the team while he spoke. “I sort of already have plans.”
His voice was so quiet that the team wasn’t sure they had heard him correctly. After a moment of silence, Derek’s lips curled into his (in)famous smirk and he gently nudged Spencer’s side, making the lanky boy turn around to face his friends.
Spencer’s cheeks were flushed and he kept his eyes trained on the ground, not wanting to face the curious expressions on their faces. But when Derek nudged him again, asking him “Who’s the girl?” with such a teasing tone, he couldn’t help but look up.
“She’s just a friend.” He blurted out, eyes immediately widening upon the realization of what he admitted.
While the rest of the team just shrugged it off and dived into their conversations, Derek patted him on the back - the force of which sent Spencer stumbling a few feet forward -, and Penelope lit up like he had just told her that he won the lottery.
“You have to bring her!” Penelope begged, grabbing his arm as they walked towards the door of the local precinct they had been working on for the case. “I want to meet this mystery woman.”
Penelope didn’t say it to him then, but she was sure you weren’t ‘just a friend’. She might’ve not been a profiler, but the look in his eyes when he spoke about you and his hesitation to cancel your plans for the sake of the team made her think that perhaps you were much more special to him than he realized.
Her suspicions were, of course, confirmed when he showed up at the restaurant a few hours later with you in his arms, wearing an elegant black dress and a radiant smile on your face as you whispered something to him, immediately breaking into a fit of giggles.
Spencer tried to feign indignation at your comment, but he couldn’t help but smile as he led you to his friends, who were all watching the interaction with surprise and disbelief. Your laughter calmed when you reached the table, but the smile never fell from your face as Spencer introduced you, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. That’s when Penelope knew.
You clicked rather well with his friends. They were, naturally, very curious about you, and you did your best to answer all their questions. Meanwhile, Spencer, who was sitting next to you, placed a hand on your lower back, making sure you didn’t feel overwhelmed under the attentive eyes of his friends.
Penelope and you were a match made in heaven, Spencer reckoned. You quipped back and forth the entire night, even swapping numbers by the end of it, and Spencer even joked that you had found a new favorite FBI agent as you made your way to his car.
Chuckling at his statement, you stopped in your tracks, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to place a tender kiss on his cheek. “You’ll always be my favorite. But she’s a close second.”
Spencer was sure his heart had stopped right then and there and that he had gone to heaven.
Since that night, you frequently called Penelope to talk about numerous things - from the latest TV shows you were both hooked on to recipes for dessert -, but you rarely talked about Spencer. Until today.
“Penny, I need your help.” You blurted out as soon as the blonde answered your call. 
“Woah, woah, calm down my friend,” Penelope answered, amused and slightly worried about the urgency in your tone. “What’s on your pretty little mind?”
All it took for Penelope to know something was wrong was two words. “It’s Spencer.”
“What about boy wonder?” The technical analyst questioned, trying to make sense of what you were saying.
“He’s been acting so cold lately.” You explained, sighing in exhaustion as you plopped down on your couch. “Well, you know how we always arrange to spend the holidays together?”
Penelope hummed in agreement - every year when Spencer would put in a request to take time off during the holidays, she would make sure it was at the top of Strauss’ paperwork, knowing he was doing it for you.
At her approval, you continued. “This year I was supposed to come to Quantico, but every time I try to bring it up, he shuts me down and just says that he can’t. I don’t understand why he’s acting like this and it's been driving me nuts all week.”
The blonde’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at your image on the phone. 
“Are we sure we’re talking about the same person? Because he seemed pretty excited last week. He wouldn’t shut up about how he found the perfect gift for you and how he couldn’t wait to see your face when you opened it.”
This confused you even more, and you frowned as you processed her words. “Yeah, well, this week he can barely text me back. I don’t want anything crazy, Penny, I just want to be with him for Christmas.”
“I don’t know what happened. As far as I can tell, he did put in the request for a vacation.” Penelope replied. Then, her face lit up in realization and she cursed under her breath. “Morgan.”
“Morgan? What does Derek have to do with this?” You asked, more disoriented than ever.
“Wait here,” Penelope said, quickly getting up from her chair and leaving you to stare at her empty office. She returns a few minutes later, looking pretty annoyed, to see you making a cup of coffee in your kitchen.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, sweet cheeks.” The blonde said apologetically, making your gaze return to your phone, forgotten on the counter as you waited for her.
You quickly picked it up, registering her distressed expression. “What happened?”
“I found out why Reid’s acting like an ass to you.” She replied, her voice softening as she saw the glimmer of worry in your eyes. “It seems like Morgan has done quite a number on him.”
“What do you mean Morgan has done a number on him? What did he do?” You questioned, growing irritated by Penelope’s ability to beat around the bush. You loved her, you really did, but you just wanted to know what happened.
“I’m not sure I should be telling you this, but since you’re so upset…” Penelope trailed off, pursing her lips. “Morgan better pay me back.”
“Penelope, just spit it out.” You interrupted, your impatience reflected in your tone.
“Fine. I told you Reid wouldn’t shut up about you, and Morgan may or may not have teased him about his feelings for you and it may or may not have caused Spencer to clam up in his shell.” Penelope rushed through her words and you blinked, unsure you had heard her correctly.
You could feel your heart beating in your ears as you asked her, “Spencer… Has feelings for me?”
Penelope looked reluctant to answer your questions, clearly not wanting to violate Spencer’s privacy. Ever since she met you, she knew you and the resident FBI genius were destined for each other, but she wanted you to discover on your terms.
“Penny, please.” You sounded out of breath, and it cleared any sign of hesitation on Penelope’s mind. 
“Baby girl, I can’t be the one to tell you that. You have to ask him.” She responded, her voice full of empathy. “But between me and you, I’m pretty sure you know what the answer is.”
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Spencer was certain that he was in the 9th circle of hell. 
Ever since Morgan’s comment, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He always knew what you two had was special.  You knew how to make him laugh; Spencer didn’t consider himself to be difficult to entertain, but he could be quite oblivious to his coworkers' jokes sometimes, especially if they were about him. But you? Oh, you managed to make him laugh hysterically with a simple comment, and it endeared him. 
You had been with him through the good and the bad, after all. You were there at his graduation, celebrating his first Ph.D. - and the two that came after that, too - and you were right there by his side when he watched his mother be dragged away to a mental institution, holding his hand in an attempt to comfort him.
That was what he loved most about you. He could always count on you to be there for him. He recalled the first moment he realized you were much more than a friend to him.
It had been after the Tobias Hankel case. Spencer slipped in and out of consciousness as the doctors dragged him through the hospital, murmuring to themselves about testing the drugs in his system and checking his vitals.
His life wasn’t in danger anymore, but he was oh so tired. He had spent days upon days of captivity without a wink of sleep, locked in an empty cabin where he was tortured by two of Tobias’ personalities, and all he could think about between getting tormented and getting drugged was you.
He was sure he was going to die then, and his main concern was that he wouldn’t be able to see your pretty smile again. He would tell you this when you appeared at his bedside a few hours later, claiming that you received a call from the hospital - unsurprisingly, you were each other’s emergency contacts - and had threatened a stewardess to get a ticket to the next plane to Virginia, and you would call him ridiculous for it.
It was only when you were sitting next to him on his hospital bed, his head leaning against your chest as you combed your hands through his hair, that he allowed himself to cry, to reveal how truly scared he had been under Tobias’ hands.
You whispered sweet nothings in his ear as you softly lifted his head, making sure he was looking at you when you softly kissed his tears away. His arms had tightened around you, a silent sign of his gratitude, and he knew then, he knew, you were everything to him.
How could he have not fallen for you after all that? 
But he could never tell you. He had been rejected many times in his life, but if he was to get rejected by you? He was sure his heart wouldn’t be able to take it.
So he tried to bury his feelings deep inside him, keeping you a secret from the people who knew him best and, when the time came, introduced you to them. As a friend. Because that’s all that you were. Friends.
When Morgan teased him about his feelings for you, Spencer entered panic mode. If Morgan could see Spencer was madly in love with you, then you could see it too - you could always read him like a book, after all.
And if you hadn’t brought it up… You didn’t want to. He knew you’d never want to hurt him, so the only logical conclusion he could reach was: you don’t feel the same.
He tried his best to avoid you. Cutting you off whenever you brought up your plans for the holidays, replying to your texts with short answers, and even refraining from watching Doctor Who in his free time, because it only reminded him of how you two used to lie on your couch during summer break and watch it together. 
What he didn’t count on was opening his door in mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve and seeing you standing in front of him, coat covered in the snow that was falling outside the comfort of his building and a small smile on your face.
“Merry Christmas, Spencer.” You said bashfully, not sure how he would react to your presence. 
“Merry Christmas.” He replied, his breath knocked out of his lungs at how beautiful you looked standing there. He might have fallen in love with you all over again. 
After a beat of silence, he wet his lips, looking at you with the same wide-eyed gaze he greeted you with when you were kids. “What... What are you doing here?”
Your lips curled into a sheepish smile. “What, you thought I was gonna miss Christmas?”
Seeing you in front of him, hearing your voice without the faint static of the phone for the first time in a while… it was surreal to him. He couldn’t help but cave in and wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer into a tight hug.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders just as tightly, your body finally relaxing against his. You could feel his nose nuzzled into your neck, and you smiled against his shoulder.
“I missed you.” You whispered, letting your words linger between the two of you.
“I missed you too.” He whispered back, and you knew he was sincere. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”
“I know.” You breathed in his scent, pressing a soft kiss against his shoulder before pulling away. He reluctantly let you go, a remorseful smile on his lips.
Spencer guided you into his apartment, and you took note of how he put up your usual Christmas decorations. “You managed to set up the tree by yourself?” You teased him.
He chuckled, watching as you settled on his couch and patted the space next to you. He promptly followed your lead, sitting down beside you. “Yeah, it was a real challenge.”
Before you could even reply, Spencer reached out to grab your hand, his thumb softly caressing your knuckles to calm his racing mind.
“Look, I’m so sorry. I’ve been stuck in my head lately, and it’s not fair that I treated you like that. We’ve had this tradition forever and I feel like I disrespected it and-” Spencer rambled, and you pressed your lips against his to shut him up.
Your sudden action stunned him, and he couldn’t help but succumb to your spell. Placing his hands on both sides of your face and closing his eyes, he kissed you back as gently and tenderly as he could, feeling you melt against him.
Once you pulled away, his eyes fluttered open, looking at you with a lovestruck, surprised gaze. He seemed to be speechless, which made you giggle.
“I hope that was on your wishlist this Christmas.” You joked, leaning your forehead against his. 
Your gaze softened as you took in his expression. “Penny told me everything. In all seriousness, I understand why you did it.  I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t just tell me.”
He gulped, feeling vulnerable under your loving stare. He always got the impression that you could see right through him.
“I know. It’s just… I’ve been in love with you almost my entire life, and when I finally realized it, I was afraid that if I acted on them, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.” He murmured, his tone growing sadder.
“And when Morgan joked about my feelings for you, I just realized that maybe I hadn’t been as discreet as I thought and perhaps you already knew and didn’t talk about it so you wouldn’t hurt me.” He continued, closing his eyes again as if the mere thought was too painful to bear. 
He took a deep breath, his thumbs starting to slowly brush against your cheekbones. “I didn’t want to face you and find out if it was true, because… Because my heart couldn’t take it.”
You listened quietly to his words, his touch on your skin grounding you and sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It broke your heart to hear him speak like that, as if the mere thought of you feeling the same never crossed his mind, as if it was absurd. 
You knew he had low self-esteem, a permanent scar from all the times he was bullied throughout his life, but his self-deprecating view never ceased to shock you.
“Spencer…” You whispered his name like it was sacred, like he was something to be worshipped, and it made his heart skip a beat. “I know all your favorite songs, how you take your coffee, and your favorite books. In order. I know you. I’d be crazy not to love you.”
You could feel him exhale in relief at your quiet confession, his racing mind finding solace in your words. “Really?”
“Of course.” You replied with a chuckle, leaning forward to press a feather-light peck against his lips. “I’ve been in love with you since we were, like, sixteen. All I ever wanted was to be the one to give you everything you want.”
He smiled as you pulled away once again, thinking about how much time you two had lost while dancing around your feelings. Although, he supposed, it wasn’t lost time - you had spent those years giving each other love, even if it wasn’t necessarily romantic.
“We’re both idiots.” He replied, making you laugh once more. You stood up, grabbing both of his hands and guiding him to the kitchen. He followed you with a bright smile on his face; he would follow you anywhere, he suspected.
“I was thinking I could make those cookies you like and, afterward, we could perhaps… snuggle by the fireplace?” You suggested, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. 
He pretended to think for a moment, before he finally gave in, pressing a delicate kiss against your temple. “Anything you want, little menace.”
Spencer hummed, burying his face further into his neck. “I was thinking of reading a few books. Santa was going to keep me company.”
Later that night, when you were both snuggled up against each other in front of his fireplace while eating the gingerbread cookies you both made, you asked him curiously, “What were you planning to do for Christmas, if I hadn’t shown up?”
You laughed quietly at his admission. “Well, Santa doesn’t know you like I do.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Your genius agreed, peppering little kisses onto your skin. “You’re the best Christmas present ever, do you know that?”
“Yeah? Wait until you see what I actually bought for you.” You replied, a playful smile on your face. “Besides, a little birdie told me you got me the perfect Christmas gift.”
“I’m gonna kill Penelope.” He muttered under his breath, sending you into a fit of laughter. 
Well, maybe this Christmas time
You'll finally realize
That I could be the one
To give you everything you want
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lxclerc · 6 months
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𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 — 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔
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summary... wherein old photos of you and charles resurface and goes viral, forcing you and the man whose heart you broke to cross paths once again request… no faceclaim... christina nadin pairing… charles leclerc x reader warning… none so far
note... this is going to be part of a series that includes both one shots and smau but can be read as a stand alone
series masterlist main masterlist
current part (part one) → part two
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charleslec
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liked by username and others
charleslec fans found an old instagram account allegedly belonging to charles from (what we believe to be) ages 12 - 20. the account is filled of personal pictures consisting of his supposed ex girlfriend, y/n y/l/n with sweet captions. y/n is a well known motorsport podcaster from monaco.
view all comments…
username EXCUSE ME?
username this was not in my 2023 bingo card 😭
username you mean to tell me my girl yn dated shARL
username the way that this is probably why she’s had practically the entire grid as guests in her podcast apart from charles
username this is such an invasion of their privacy though like clearly they both didnt want this to be dug up
⤷ username i mean if they didn’t want anyone to see, they should have deleted the account or at the very least put it on private
username okay but these pictures are so 🥹
username i always thought it was weird the way charles and yn never interacted despite both being from monaco and involved the racing world
charles_lec7
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liked by lorenzotl and others
charles_lec7 Joyeux anniversaire, mon amour. il y a 16 ans, tu es venu au monde et c'est la meilleure chose qui me soit arrivée. je suis toujours là pour t'écouter parler de n'importe quoi pendant des heures en attendant le coucher du soleil, malgré la plainte d'enzo qui ne veut pas nous conduire 🤣🤣
(happy birthday, my love. 16 years ago, you came into this world and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. i’m always here to listen to you talk about whatever for hours while waiting for sunset despite enzo’s complaint against driving us.)
view all messages… July 7, 2013
yourusername Merci beaucoup, mon ange. Je suis tellement reconnaissante d'avoir passé un autre anniversaire avec toi. Je t'aime plus que les mots ❤️❤️ (thank you so much, my angel. i am so grateful to have spent another birthday with you. i love you more than words.)
⤷ charles_lec7 J'ai hâte de vous souhaiter un joyeux anniversaire 70 fois de plus. (looking forward to greeting you happy birthday 70 more times.)
⤷ username he was going to greet her 70 more happy birthdays because he thought they’d spend the rest of their life together 😭😭
⤷ username i only learned about them today but i am a child of divorce and they are my parents
jules_bianchi Joyeux anniversaire, yn!! Je suis toujours là pour veiller sur toi et Charles quand vous avez besoin de moi. (happy birthday, yn!! i’m always here looking out for you and charles whenever you need me.)
⤷ yourusername merci, jules ❤️ nous t'encourageons toujours (thank you, jules. we’re always rooting for you.)
⤷ username oh my god 🥲🥲🥲
username i ran as fast as i could as soon as i saw the posts and oh my god it’s true 😭
username they’ve 😭😭 been 😭 together 😭😭 since 😭😭 they 😭😭 were 16 😭😭
⤷ username if you scroll even further down, he first greeted her on her 13th birthday where he called her the prettiest girl 🥲
⤷ username i’m about to stab myself
username y’all ever thought that the reason why he probably wanted number 7 is because her birthday is july 7 which is 7/7
⤷ username STOP IT RN
⤷ username his username has 7 in it bc it’s her birthday 🥲
⤷ username someone fucking sedate me
charles_lec7
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liked by arthur_leclerc and others
charles_lec7 entrer en 2016 avec la même fille qu'en 2010. mon amour, je te tiendrai la main pour toujours ❤️❤️ (entering 2017 with the same girl from 2010. my love, i’ll hold your hand forever.)
view all comments… January 1, 2016
arthur_leclerc vous êtes tous les deux si ennuyeux 🙄🙄 (you’re both so annoying)
⤷ yourusername arrêtez d'être jaloux (stop being jealous)
lorenzotl Bonne année à vous deux! (happy new year to the both of you!)
⤷ yourusername je t'aime, enzo
yourusername Tu ne m'as pas demandé de sortir avec toi avant 2012 🤔🤔 (you didn’t ask me on a date till 2012 though)
⤷ charles_lec7 Je t'aime depuis bien plus longtemps que tu ne le penses (i love you far longer than you’ve known)
⤷ joris_trouche Malheureusement, je peux le confirmer en tant que personne qui a dû tout écouter. (unfortunately i can confirm this as someone who had to listen to everything)
⤷ yourusername ❤️❤️
yourusername and to many more years to come. Je t'aimerai pour le reste de ma vie (i’ll love you for the rest of my life)
⤷ charles_lec7 as long as i’m with you
username no because they legitimately seem so in love????? like from their words and not just the pictures
⤷ username there’s no way you’re going to tell me that a man who said “i’ve loved you far longer than you’ve known” and a girl who said “i’ll love you for the rest of my life” are no longer in love
username scrolling through this account is like watching their relationship unfold and mature before my eyes
username there’s no way you can tell me that two people so in love, looking forward to the future they plan to have together can just fall out of love and be complete strangers a few years later
⤷ username right!!!! because what do you mean love like this can exist and somehow just fade? what’s the point of love then??????
username the rest of us really be having an existential crisis because of a relationship that ended 6 years ago 😭
charles_lec7
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liked by yourusername and others
charles_lec7 10 years from now, i hope it’s still you by my side
view all comments… November 5, 2017
yourusername félicitations, f2 world champion 🎉🥳 (congratulations)
⤷ charles_lec7 Merci, mon amour, je t'aime tellement. (thank you, my love. i love you so much.)
⤷ yourusername 💕
⤷ username i think this is the end guys 😔
⤷ username her energy is so different here. she literally sounds more like a friend greeting a friend rather than a girlfriend of 6 years by this point
username how did we go from “looking forward to greet you 70 more times) bc they were so sure they’d grow old together to “10 years from now, i hope it’s still you by my side” where he sounds so uncertain if they’re in each other’s futures???????
⤷ username no fuck that because how the fuck did we go from “i love you more than words” and “i’ll love you for the rest of my life” to a “💕” without even an i love you too???????????
username this is his last post of her 🥲🥲🥲
⤷ username she doesn’t even follow this account anymore
⤷ username he abandoned this account after they broke up 😭😭
username no bc he’s f2 champion here and they were still together but he entered formula 1 single??? what the hell happened
yourusername
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liked by lissiemackintosh and others
yourusername in another life
view all comments…
lissiemackintosh gorgeous gorgeous girl
⤷ yourusername no you
madisonbeer 🔥🔥🔥
yourbestfriend un voyage dans le passé ? (a trip down memory lane?)
⤷ yourusername 😵😬
username no bc your love story had me tearing up and now i refresh my feed and see this?
username she wanted to remind charles what he lost 😭
username in another life!!! i would have been your girlllllll
username literally the one that got away
username i simply can’t accept that this is the end of their story like this can’t be it, right?
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taglist: @ncentic @coffeehurricanes @academia-girl00 @nhlfs @livinglifethroughfanfic @sage-butterflyy @chimchimjiminie16 @thatgirlmj @hiraethrhapsody 
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slasherbvnnie · 1 year
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Until We Found You
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Hello! This is my first time ever posting onto here, so please excuse any mistakes or any tags that may be missing. I wanted to write about a poly!ghostface au and age up all the characters and place them into college. I hope this gets at least a few reads!
Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX
Context: Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+
You bit down on the tip of your pencil, chewing the metal part of it as you spaced out for the hundredth time today. A few days ago news broke of one of your best friends being killed, Casey Becker, and like every day since that fateful night, news reporters were swarming the campus. Woodsboro University was famous overnight for it, a crazed killer on the loose in the town and no one knew why Casey and her boyfriend Steve were the victims. What made it truly unnerving was that no one knew if they were going to be the only ones.
It didn’t make you scared, not really at least, you were more intrigued than worried if you were going to be the next person to get a mysterious phone call. No, you spent the next morning with Randy and learned all about what happened. How Steve was found bound to the chair, duct tape and blood practically branded onto him, and how the Beckers found Casey. She was one of your best friends, you couldn’t deny you felt like you needed some therapy for not crying for more than maybe an hour over her, but something in you was more interested in who did it.
That was what was on your mind for the hundredth time today, any of Casey’s boyfriends all the way to fucking pre-k could be a suspect, maybe her family, or maybe it was some random stranger who decided to take their anger out on an unsuspecting teenage girl. Randy and you talked all first period about your suspicions on who it could be, even accusing each other of being the killer, it did fit after all, the two horror buffs who knew every goddamn easter egg in every horror movie there was, it seemed perfect.
“Sidney, can you please tell your friend the answer to at least make it seem like she was listening?” Ms. Crane asked, Sidney nudging you and whispering the answer as the class laughed. “ah, um, phosphorus gas.” You answered, looking at Sidney with wide eyes after you answered. “Phosphine, but I will take that. You guys can pack up, let me take role before you all leave.” Ms. Crane said with a sigh.
“What’s up with you? Are you totally sure you don’t want to go to the grief counselor after school? I mean even Tate went-“ “Sid, I’m fine, seriously. I just, it’s freaky is all. I mean not knowing who did it? What if they have a thing for college chicks, I think we fit into that category very well and-“ “And we will be fine, it was probably just a one-time thing…I mean it's more likely that it is, right?” Sidney asked as she packed her bag, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, if you want you can stay at my place for the week, my dad’s on a trip and I would kinda enjoy the company,” she offered, smiling at you reassuringly. You gave a nod, “yeah, let me just at least spend tonight at my place, my mom will kill me if I miss dinner tonight and take off for a week out of the blue.” “Are you sure you’re really 19 and not 9?” Sidney asked jokingly, earning a laugh from you.
After dinner you had taken a shower, your parents had gone out for the night to take a late-night date- which you theorized was them renting a motel to not risk traumatizing you. You brushed out your hair as you sat down on your vanity chair, putting it into a braid before you went to bed. Your cat was sitting peacefully on your bed, moving every now and then to change her position before darting out of your room. “Irena!” You called after her, scoffing when she didn’t come back to the room. You put your hairbrush down onto your vanity, taking a look in the mirror before getting up from your seat. “I hope you don’t think you are eating even more food, missy, you got fed so much while I was at class today,” you said, acting as if Irena could really understand you. You made your way to your door, nearly walking out before noticing a paper had fallen onto the ground near your desk. You picked it up, reading the headline, Casey Becker and Steve Orth- funerals to be held on Friday the 27th at 9-11 AM. You sighed and set it down on the other papers stacked on your desk.
You walked out of your room, heading downstairs “Irena! Come on, I wanna go to bed,” you whined out, calling the cat to your room. You found her in the living room, hiding under the couch and refusing to come to you. “Fine, I’ll leave you a blanket out and don’t you dare come scratching at my door at 3 AM,” you told her, going to the hallway closet to get a blanket out for her. Once you had gotten one, you spread it out across the couch for her and said goodnight.
You were about halfway to your room when your phone began to buzz, digging it out of your pocket and seeing your mom's number you quickly answered. “Hey, what's up? You guys heading back already,” You asked, continuing up to your room.
“Heading back? Who said I ever left?” A strange voice asked on the other line, making you pause for a moment as you moved to make sure it was your mom. “Listen asshole, I don’t have more than 15 dollars in my bank account so have fun with whatever hot cheetos and mountain dew you can get with that,” you said before hanging up on them, putting your phone back into your pocket. You were up the stairs now, deciding to use the bathroom before you went to bed for the night but before you could open the door your phone rang again. “Didn’t I already say I don’t have money? What the fuck do you want?” You asked angrily, “Irena, right? Like Irena Dubrovna? Who did you prefer, Simone or Natassja?” The same voice asked you, making you look down the stairs. Irena hadn’t moved yet and no one was around her, or at least from what you could see. “If you hurt my fucking cat I will personally cut off your balls and feed them to he-“ A laugh from the caller cut you off, “I don’t have fun with animals. I’m not Bundy or Dahmer, I like to see my victims, human victims…struggle.” You heard your parent's bedroom door open, letting out a scream before running into your room and slamming the door shut, locking it quickly before the person began to bang on it. You looked around, going to your window and trying to lift it open.
The door cracked, it was like the scene from the shining, except this killer bore a white mask, you recognized it from the Halloween store- father death. You struggled with the window again, before giving up and grabbing the lamp from your bedside table and throwing it at them. The killer moved out of the way before they were hit, pushing their body against the door once more and climbing in through the opening. You could see them fiddle with their knife as if they had held it in their hands a hundred times already and were skilled at fidgeting with it.
You grabbed a glass organizer from your desk, taking the scissors from it before chucking the holder at them. The papers you had stacked before scattered from the throw as they fell down. You rushed to the window as they struggled to get up but never heard them stand. When your head whipped around to check if they were behind you, you instead saw them looking at the papers around them.
Masked killer, Casey and Steve headlines, Maureen Prescott, Cotton Weary trials, even the cutouts you had of Sidney from court. You were obsessed. There were drawings, suspects lists, hell all these needed were red kiss marks and ‘please fuck me mr ghostface!’ written in pink glitter pen ink.
You stared wide-eyed at them when you saw their gaze now on you, their head cocked to the side as a laugh sounded from behind the mask. Just then you heard the sound of gravel being crushed around from the driveway, your parent's car was pulling in, you saw them getting out from your window. When you turned back you noticed the person was gone, you ran downstairs and met your parents at the door, crying and beginning to blubber on about what nearly happened. 
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jazzyoranges · 6 months
Text
Harleys in Hawaii
Tara Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: you’re Tara’s older girlfriend
Words: 4.5k
A/n: listen to harleys in hawaii
Warnings: i didn’t feel like editing or spell checking sorry bout that 💀, age gap (Tara is 22/23, you’re 27), drinking, kissing, fade to black sex, R is implied to dress more masculine, also Scream 6 doesn’t exist cause Anika is alive 😇
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Tara has gone through 3 girlfriends and 5 boyfriends in the span of 5 months. Currently, she’s having an intervention on how and why. Well, the core four’s version of an intervention at least
“Dude, you have to teach me how to get a girlfriend” Chad begs, and Mindy laughs
“Why am I even here? You guys suck at interventions. If anything, this is the opposite of one”
This time, her sister chimes in. “We’re here because you’ve been going through partners like pairs of clothes. Why are you dating all these people?”
“I don’t know!” Tara groans “In the beginning it’s to be fun dating someone, but after a week it feels like a chore”
“Wow, never knew you of all people would have the same mindset of a frat boy” This earns Mindy a slap on her shoulder from Anika, who was cuddled into her
“Shut up Mindy.” the younger Carpenter spits out
“So you date people and drop them ‘cause they don’t give you the thrill of being in a relationship?” Chad says and everyone in the room goes silent. Momentarily, he stops throwing his tennis ball up in the air
“…Did I say something wrong?”
“Never knew you could be smart, Chad”
“Sometimes I wish we weren’t related.”
“Is that it, Tara?” Sam asks “You just want the thrill of dating?”
“When you put it that way, I guess? I dunno, I haven’t really met anyone exciting. You’d think there’d be fun people in New York”
“You just haven’t met the right person, Tara. I’m sure there’s someone for you, you just suck at looking”
“Oh, really? Where am I supposed to look, then?”
“I dunno, definitely not where you’re looking right now” Mindy shrugs, and Tara sighs at how helpful her friends are
You meet you coworker’s sister when her and her friends decide to have a study session at the small coffee shop you and Sam work at. You and the older Carpenter instantly clicked as friends. Sam knew you knew about the Woodsboro killings, but you knew not to trust the media entirely. After a few weeks of talking to her, you didn’t understand how Sam could be accused of such disgusting things
Your friendship solidified when you ‘accidentally’ spilled an ice cream sundae on some girl who was being mean to her. Of course you were fired the next day, but Sam left with you, opting to work at a smaller coffee shop run by a nice old man and his lovely wife
Sam considered you a good friend, and she trusted you with being around her sister. Luckily the old couple who ran the shop were kind and trusting, and let Sam’s sister and friends use the coffee shop after hours for late-night studying. It was maybe about 6:30pm when the shop officially closed, and the study session started. Sam insisted she stay by herself, but you didn’t want her to be lonely while watching her kids friends study
Personally, you thought it was far too late to study, but you also hadn’t been to school in 3 years. Soft music was playing while the group studied and you and Sam cleaned up the shop here and there
Tara tried to focus on her work, she really did. After a few glances in your direction and many “sorry, what did you say?”’s later, Mindy finally decided to comment on Tara’s behavior. I mean, could she really be mad? You were breathtaking. Your shirt hugged your arms and torso just the right way, you hand a very pretty face, most of all, you were-
“Alright, what’s up with you? You’ve been distracted this entire time”
“I’m not distracted, I’m listening” Tara lied straight through her teeth, and Mindy just looked at her in suspicion
“You’ve seemed out of it this entire study session, you okay?” Anika reached to rub Tara’s shoulder
“Uh, y-yeah” Tara turned around in her seat looking for you. When she saw you were either in the break room or the bathroom, Tara leaned in closer to the group and so did her friends
“Sam’s friend is really hot.”
“Understandable” Chad nods
“Definitely ask her out”
“Like hell I am, Mindy!” Tara whisper-shouts
You’re about to leave for the night. Gathering your jacket, helmet, and keys from your locker, you barely make it out of the break room before one of Sam’s friends calls you over
“Hey, Sam’s coworker! Are you good at algebra?
“A little above average, why do you ask? You walk over to the booth they’re studying at. You miss the glare the brunette gives to her friend
Mindy motions to Tara “My friend over here is having a little trouble, and we’re all not really good at explaining. Could you help her?”
“Also,” the twin points at each of her friends “Anika, Chad, Tara, and I’m Mindy”
You pull up a chair to sit next to Tara “Y/N, nice to meet all of you. Sam says lots of good things”
“Likewise, Sam told us about what you did for her. We all appreciate it” Anika smiles
“Those girls were assholes,” you shrug “they deserved it.” Now focusing on Tara, you met her eyes while the rest of the group fell into discussion
“So, what exactly do you need help with?”
Tara tries to listen to what you’re saying, but everything is going in one ear and out the other with your proximity to her. You make simple small talk with Tara, and she notes how the corners of your eyes crinkle when you laugh. The brunette learns you’re about the same age as her sister, you have a second job as a mechanic, and you owned a motorcycle (in which her interest was immediately peaked).
A few hours of conversation and studying later, the group decides they’re finished. They pile into Sam’s car to be dropped off at their respective apartments. Unfortunately due to a little clutter, there isn’t enough room for Tara in the car (which is surprising since she’s incredibly small, but you decide to hold your tongue this time)
“Cmon, guys, can’t you make some room?” the brunette groans
“You could ride with Y/n,” Sam suggests “I trust her to get you home”
“Yeah, I got an extra helmet in my locker, I’ll go get it” You jog back to the shop, and you’re back a minute later with a helmet in one hand, and a hoodie in the other. Your hoodie, Tara thinks
“Here, it gets cold. Is this your first time?”
“Yeah, I’ve never been on a motorcycle before…” Tara says nervously, and she has to stop herself from taking a big whiff of your hoodie around her
“No worries! If you get scared just squeeze my thigh and I’ll pull over, okay? Also, make sure to hold on tight” You put the helmet on Tara, inspecting her to make sure it’s on correctly
“Geez, it feels like I’m an astronaut” Tara laughs, flipping up the visor
“Doesn’t it? I always feel like a bobble head or something when I’m in it” You teach Tara how to get on, and soon enough you’re on the road following Sam’s car
Tara’s arms were snugly wrapped around your torso, and she was absolutely having the time of her life. The helmet she was wearing smelled like you and it was absolutely intoxicating. Not to mention how your hoodie sat comfortably on her body — almost like it was meant for her to wear. Deciding to be bold, Tara decides to hug you tighter
When you two eventually stop at a stoplight, you hold out a thumbs up, questioning if Tara is comfortable. The brunette responds with a thumbs up of her own, and the slow circles she’s making with her thumb under your shirt that leave a trail of goosebumps behind
First Sam stops at Mindy and Anika’s, then Chads. Since there’s more room in the car Tara doesn’t actually need to stay with you, but she’s practically glued to your back. The brunette decides to be greedy and hold on
A few minutes later, you two reach Tara and Sam’s apartment complex. When you come to a stop the younger Carpenter gets off first, and you follow after
“So, how was your first time on a motorcycle? Scary?”
“Honestly? Not really. I trust you won’t crash, or else Sam’ll get real mad at you” Taking off her helmet, you get the pleasure of seeing Tara smile again. She starts to take off your hoodie, but you stop her before she does
“Keep it, I already have a bunch of other hoodies and jackets at my place”
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t be saying it if I wasn’t sure, Carpenter”
“You’re an ass” Tara rolls her eyes and playfully hits your arm
“Nice meeting you and your friends, by the way. I’ll see you guys around” After you wave bye and hop back on your motorcycle Tara watches you leave, pulling your hoodie closer to her body
Study sessions at the coffee shop after closing time became more and more regular. Sometimes it’s just Sam closing up, and other times it’s just you. Tara still regrets telling the group about her very tiny minuscule crush on you, since you’re now used as blackmail to get Tara to go anywhere
“Wanna go to the movies?”
“Sorry, I have to finish an essay”
“Y/n’s gonna be there” Mindy says in a sing-song tone
“Fuck you.” Tara groans before grabbing her jacket, fully expecting to be invited for a motorcycle ride from you
At first Tara only saw you during study sessions at the coffee shop. It was the same story almost every time. There wouldn’t be enough room in Sam’s car, you’d drive Tara home, and if she was lucky you’d stop at a 7 Eleven for slushees and a snack
When Sam invites you to a game night with the group, you happily accept the invitation. With a bottle of wine in your left hand, you make some final adjustments to your outfit before knocking. Smoothing out your shirt, you hear a familiar voice behind the door
“So, are you gonna stand there or are you going to knock?” The younger Carpenter teases, and she can practically hear you roll your eyes when you scoff
“I was making myself presentable” You shrug, hearing the click of the door as Tara opens it
“Whatever,” The shorter girl laughs “You’re kinda early so you can wait on the couch or something” She takes the bottle of wine from your hands, setting down on a table
“Geez, don’t people have manners nowadays? I thought it was a given to arrive early”
“I think that’s just you being old”
“You’re mean.” Tara’s face collides with a pillow as she turns around and the brunette can faintly hear you say ‘headshot!’ in an excited voice
“Me? Mean? You just assaulted me!”
“You’ll live. Mario Kart?” You wave a second controller in her direction with the game already booted up, and Tara takes her seat next to you on the floor
The next few minutes are spent casually trash-talking each other. When you get particularly close to winning Tara shoves you to the floor, causing you to lose. A smug grin adorns her face when you throw another pillow at her
“Stop throwing pillows at me!” Tara laughs
“You quite literally shoved me to the floor ‘cause you’re not as good as me”
“Shut up, you’ve have more experience”
“Are you calling me old again?” You say in a dramatic tone, and the door rings a whole 20 minutes after the rest of the group is supposed to show up. Sam lets them in, and you wave hello. Mindy gives Tara a look you don’t recognize, but Chad quickly challenges you to another game of Mario Kart
The twin tried his best, he really did. He took the shortcuts, chose the best character, and even optimized his power-ups. But alas, his efforts were rendered useless as you casually mopped the floor with his ass. The scoreboard with your name at the top is enough for Chad to groan in defeat
“Dude, how are you so good?”
“I guess I just have more experience”
“So you can say it but I can’t?” You end up sticking your tongue out at Tara like a child
“Whatever. You guys got any other games?”
“We have Uno” Sam suggests
Oh how foolish she was.
Arguing, wine, and lots of popcorn later, you’re currently in a battle for 4th place with Tara. Fifteen minutes after Chad won 3rd, both of you insisted a 4th place winner. When you put down a plus four twice in a row, the group only groans
“Please are you two almost done?”
“It’s Uno. How about we play another game?” Chad pleads
“Absolutely not. I refuse to lose to a girl that’s basically half my height.”
“Half your height!? You’ll probably be balding by 30!”
“You take that back!” You slam a hand against the table, and your friends can’t tell if they should intervene or watch the argument play out. They choose the latter
Shallow insults are exchanged between you two and the rest of the group finally understands both of you aren’t serious. They decide to leave you two to pick up some pizza, and you’re far too busy arguing how you’re not going to go bald at 30. Really, whose idea was it to give the most competitive people copious amounts of wine?
Eventually your arguing dies down, leaving you both giggling like middle school kids when they see their crush. The absurdity of the situation paired with the wine you both drank made a very fun combo
“Sorry I said you’d bald by 30” Tara leans onto your shoulder and you lay your head atop hers
“It’s okay. Sorry I said you were half my height… even if it’s true” You smile and Tara hits your arm while suppressing a grin
“You mind if I sleep here tonight? Pretty sure I can’t drive my baby in this state”
“Your baby?”
“My motorcycle. Her name is Elizabeth” You nudge her shoulder
“You named your motorcycle?
“It’s how you create attachment, Tara. You name everything so you care more about it”
“God, you’re a weirdo.” The younger Carpenter leans into you even further
“You never answered my question”
“Hmm… I think Sam wouldn’t mind”
“But would you mind?”
“No, you’re my friend”
A comfortable silence passes between you two. Tara, half asleep on your shoulder; and you, trying to formulate a plan to get Tara in her bed. The only good idea you’ve thought of is carrying her, so that’s what you decide to do
Tara makes a sound then holds onto your shirt as you scoop her up from the couch. There’s a feeling in her stomach she can’t quite place when your arms wrap around her. You’re warm, and Tara only wants to get closer to your body heat
“Tara, honey, where’s your room?” You whisper. The pet name accidentally slips, and you hope the younger girl doesn’t notice.
Oh but she does
Tara notices and opts to bury her head in you chest, pointing in the direction of her room. She can feel her face warm up immediately
You open up the door all the way with your foot, and lay Tara down in her bed. You’re about to leave to probably sleep on the couch, but you feel a hand around your wrist and Tara mumble something sleepily
“You alright, Tar?” You bend down
“Please stay… don’t go.” The younger Carpenter whispers, and you wouldn’t be able to hear her if not your close proximity
“I’ll be in the living room, don’t worry. I don’t drink and drive”
“No, I mean stay here.”
“You… You want me to stay in your room?”
Tara nods.
“I- I don’t know, Tara.” You were hesitant to accept her invitation.
“I won’t be far, I promise”
“I don’t care you’re older than me.”
“W-What?”
“Please, you make me so happy. People my age are so dull…” Tara takes your hand in her own, playing with your fingers
“You don’t mean that, Tar. You’re drunk and tired. How about you get some sleep, hm?” You say in the softest voice you can manage, pushing away the thoughts of how badly you just want to hold Tara in your arms again
“Y/n…” Something in you shifts when the brunette says your name in her sleep-drunk state. You notice the pleading look in her eyes, and it’s difficult to imagine saying no to her
“I can’t say no to you.” You sigh, taking off your jacket before getting in bed. Tara immediately curls up against your chest like it’s the most natural thing ever and you wrap your arms around her waist like it’s second nature
“Thank you. I really like you, Y/n”
“If you end up regretting this I’ll pretend like nothing’s happened if you want”
“No!” Both you and Tara are surprised by her tone
“I- I mean no. I promise I won’t regret this. Regret… you.” She says in a smaller voice
“Do you like me too?” Tara looks up at you with hope in her eyes and your heart melts at the sight
“I don’t know, Tara. Part of me thinks this is wrong, and the other part just wants to spend time with you.”
“Ever since… Amber, you’ve helped me move on” This was the most Tara has opened up about her late girlfriend. Of course the group told you a few tiny things about her here and there, but you hadn’t heard from Tara straight up. You knew this was a very hard and difficult subject even as time continued to pas
“You don’t need to feel like you have to tell me about her, Tara. How about we sleep? You’ll have a clearer mind tomorrow” Pressing a kiss against her forehead, your girlfriend(?) smiles
“…can I wear your shirt?”
“I’m right here, you know”
“I wanna be closer to you”
“Go actually get ready for bed, Tara. I know you don’t wanna sleep with makeup on” The brunette gets up to leave but decides to double back and give you a kiss on the cheek, leaving you a subtle lipstick mark
You hate how she makes you all giddy like a teenager in love.
Getting up to ask Tara if she has an oversized hoodie you could sleep in, you’re caught in the hallway by Sam. You only notice how bad it looks you’re walking out Tara’s room with messy hair, ruffled clothes, and a noticeable kiss on your cheek. You’re quick to wipe it off and smooth out your hair a second later
“Sam, it’s not what it looks like.” You say quickly
“I dunno, it really looks like you’re fucking my sister”
“I-It’s not like that! She- I uh-“
“Listen, I don’t mind you’re dating my sister. Would’ve wished you told me, though”
“That’s the thing! I have no idea what we are” You look behind to look for Tara before turning back to Sam
“She said she really liked me, but then she’s also drunk, but then she also kissed me. What if she doesn’t actually mean it? What if she regrets this? What if-” You’re talking quickly and about to start pacing around before Sam grounds you by holding onto your shoulders
“I trust you, Y/n. You’re my friend. I trust you’ll take good care of my sister”
The older Carpenter gives you a quick hug before leaving to her own room, leaving you staring at nothing as the door to the bathroom clicks open
“Y/n? You alright?” Tara pulls you into a hug, shoving her face in your neck
“Y-Yeah, do you have a hoodie I could sleep in?”
“Mmm… I think I have one in your size” The shorter girl leads you to her closet. A few seconds of searching lands you a hoodie with an album cover you don’t recognize. Tara notices your confusion
“Tyler the creator”
“Is he any good?”
“Well duh, I wouldn’t have him on a hoodie if he wasn’t”
“Okay smart ass, no need to be mean” You feign annoyance and the brunette can only roll her eyes and drag you into bed for the second time this night
Both of you get into position again. Tara’s arms securely wrapped around your torso, and your arms that bring her closer to your neck. You decide it isn’t so bad you’re in love with Tara Carpenter
You and Sam meet the rest of the group at their college. The lovely older couple that ran the coffee shop insisted you two spent time with Tara. They may as well be your parents with how much they treat you and Sam like their own kin. With the rest of the day to spoil Tara, you happily jump onto her with open arms while spewing a slew of praises and compliments
Your girlfriend should probably be embarrassed at how loud your affection is, but it’s New York. Who really cares? When you’re done being yourself, Sam also gives Tara a bear hug
“So, what’re the plans, birthday girl?” Mindy asks
“Honestly? I just wanna spend time with you guys”
“How disgustingly cute. I think that’s a great idea, babe”
“Are you kidding?” Chad speaks up “The last time we all spent time together, you two were fighting for 4th place in Uno. Fourth place!”
“I think you’re being over dramatic, bud”
“You looked like you were about to flip the fucking table when Tara made you draw 12 cards”
“Like I said, stacking is a curse that makes me angry”
“I gotta agree with Chad, here” Sam chimes in “You almost killed Tara because of Jenga”
“It’s not my fault your little sister is a pathological liar and a gaslighter!” The younger Carpenter rolls her eyes
“You’re awfully childish for someone that’s so old” Your girlfriend laughs, making you look away, embarrassed
“It’s not my fault I’m competitive!”
“So, where do you wanna eat out, Tara?” Anika asks “I’ve been starving practically all day”
“Hooters.” The brunette answers almost immediately
“So, birthday girl, what’s it like being 23?”
“A lot like being 22”
“Noting different?”
“Well, this is the first year you’re here to celebrate with me” Tara turns on her side to face you “I guess that’s pretty special”
You copy her actions, now looking at your girlfriend
“Oh yeah? What’s so special about me being here?”
“Please, you really don’t need a bigger ego”
“Aw you’re no fun”
“I’m plenty fun, babe” Tara reaches down to the hem of your shirt, feeling the skin right above your pants
“Mhm, and what type of fun?”
“You’re such a tease.” Your girlfriend rolls her eyes. Both of you are inching closer to each other to close the gap. You blink for half a second, and Tara straddles your lap with a hungry look in her eyes and a smile that highlights her cute dimples
Diving into you, Tara kisses you with fervor and lust. Her kisses are sloppy, but you don’t really care. Currently, the only thing in your mind is Tara’s name on repeat. Both of your clothes are off in only a matter of seconds due to the brunette’s growing eagerness of wanting your fingers inside of her
“A-Are you sure about this?” You mumble in between kisses and pecks
“Absolutely positive, baby.” Your girlfriend’s ever growing wetness smears on the skin of your exposed thigh, making you sigh in delight
“If you don’t want to keep going, just tell me and I’ll-“
“Y/n.” Your head snaps up at the brunette saying your name
“I want this. I want all of you. Drill it into your pretty brain, yeah?” Tara makes an act of lightly drilling her finger into the side of your head, making you laugh
When you kiss Tara for a second time it feels different. Her lips taste sweeter and all you want to do is give her the entire world. Unfortunately you’re only mortal, so you opt to give her a few lot of mind blowing orgasms instead
“So, what’re your plans for the break?”
“We were actually planning a road trip to the beach this weekend to celebrate, and you’re coming”
“No room for debate, huh?” You laugh, swinging an arm over her shoulders “I’ll have to bring my truck, though. Elizabeth is 100% going”
“Sometimes I think you like her more than me”
“You may be my girlfriend, but Elizabeth is my first love” This earns you a punch to the arm via Tara. Although it doesn’t hurt much, you feign a wounded expression and place the back of your hand to your forehead
“Woe is I, for my girlfriend no longer loves me…”
“You’ll be okay” Tara rolls her eyes
“Kiss it better?”
“Please can we have a ride without our helmets?”
“Sam wouldn’t forgive me if we crashed and you weren’t wearing a helmet”
“Please, baby?” Tara uses her best puppy eyes, and she knows they’re working when you look away to resist her charm
“The sunset is beautiful, the back roads are empty, and I want to spend our last moments here on the beach. Don’t you want to see the view, baby?”
You sigh, looking away. This girl was going to be the death of you.
“Well after such a confession, I don’t think I’m able to say anything other than yes” Tara kisses you on the tip of your nose, making it scrunch up just how she liked it
“This is gonna be so aesthetic, babe”
“…Aesthetic?”
“You’re not that old, love”
Before getting on, you take two spare sunglasses from your leather jacket pocket and hold them out for Tara
“Aviator or round?”
“You take the Aviators, I want you to look like one of those guys from Top Gun” Tara takes the sunglasses out of your hand to place them on your face
“Geez, I look more like a biker than a motorcyclist now”
“There’s a difference?”
“I’ll teach you one day. Cmon, the sun’s setting already”
Tara truly believes she’s made it to heaven while you drive. Arms around your waist, the salty breeze, and not to mention the beautiful setting sun. This is what she’s always been craving
Exhilarated is how she’d describe being around you. The simplest touches sent shivers down her spine. The tiniest glances made Tara’s heart giddy with joy. How couldn’t she fall for you? Picture-perfect is what you were. Not boring, not simple, not easy. You were… you
With sand in you hair from previous beach endeavors and a smile wide enough your girlfriend can see just from looking at the back of your head, Tara can’t image herself anywhere but with you
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