#little laurel run

[vandaliatraveler]

Dreary weekend in NC-WV, but once I got over my hangover from the WVU-Texas Tech game this morning, I managed to sneak in a quick fall hike on the Virgin Hemlock Trail in Coopers Rock State Forest. The asters are out in force and quite beautiful this fall. Among them are (from top): purplestem aster (Symphyotrichum puniceum); frost aster (Symphyotrichum pilosum), also known as awl aster; calico aster (Symphyotrichum lateriflorum); and blue wood aster (Symphyotrichum cordifolium).

#appalachia #vandalia #west virginia #wildflowers #flora #fall #coopers rock state forest #virgin hemlock trail #little laurel run #fungi #purplestem aster #purple-stemmed aster #frost aster #awl aster #hairy white oldfield aster #calico aster #blue wood aster #canada goldenrod #partridge berry #partridgeberry #common puffball

[ziracona]

I’ll probably never finish that series but ily Connor you were a real one

#by S5 he’s like the moral backbone of the show even past Oliver it’s fucking insane bc he’s a little bitch (affectionate) when it starts #characters trading ethics in passing. Connor and Asher improving while Wes and Laurel get worse. Michaela is just good out here in her own #corner. we all wanted Bonnie dead for a season but then we forgot bc other stuff happened and everyone kind of just??? forgot? us included? #We just forgave Frank for s1 because everyone else went so fucking ape shit eventually it just wasn’t worse than anything anyone /ELSE/ was #was doing. Annalise is a character of all time. Oliver goes through the weirdest arc for S5. they killed their maybe worst choice for major #character off halfway through rip ✊ — there was that time Wes shot Annalise and everyone ran off and Connor came back and risked everything #keep pressure on her gunshot and she lived because of him even though she’s super mean to Connor and she literally never thanked him rip #Connor I saw; I remembered. Asher gets to do maybe the funniest hit in the whole show like bitch if you said that to a white trust fund boy #alone in a parking garage in a running car literally what did you /think/ was gonna happen?? #Asher goes from someone you want to kill to one of the most likable charcaters in the series??? it’s really. a show #loved the first four ish seasons #how to get away with murder

[shellshocklove]

i wanna be your lover | joel miller

pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader

summary: miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, swearing, misogyny (bc of the times™), accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s, drinking of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes (it’s the 70s alright), mentions of a bad previous sexual encounter and losing your virginity, use of pet names, porn (obviously lmao), sextoys, only one bed, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: i had fun with this one, but it turned out to be longer than i first intended. i hope people will like it still! also big thank you to @dustydaddyyy​, for proofreading this

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

Under a pink and orange Los Angeles sky, your platforms clicked against the sidewalk. Day left an hour ago, dipping behind the green hills of Laurel Canyon. Walking down The Strip, arms linked with your friend Deborah, the street bustled in the awakening night. Music spilled from clubs and bars, seducing the dressed-up crowd passing by this Friday night.

“Do a little dance, make a little love,”

“This,” Deborah emphasized, coming to a stop outside a club, “is exactly what you need tonight to get your mind off everything.”

She clutched your arm tighter to her body, almost like she was afraid you’d run off, and maybe she had good reason to think you would. You weren’t exactly in the right mood to party. Only a few hours ago, you’d gotten fired from your job. Three years as Mr. Cooper’s personal assistant down the drain.

Mr. Cooper was the creative director, and one of the partners at the advertisement agency where you’d worked. He was an important man, and he’d dealt with all kinds of clients on a daily basis. For you, it had been a learning curve of a job. You had no prior experience as a personal assistant, and it had been intimidating.

You’d only just moved to the City of Angels when you’d gotten the job. With next to no money, having left behind your family and your small town, you were desperate for a job. When you’d seen the ad in the newspaper, left behind on the table of a café near your apartment, you’d stepped out on the sidewalk immediately to find a payphone. During the interview Mr. Cooper had looked you up and down and scowled as he’d read your resume. You’d shrank in your seat under his gaze, but even with your lacking resume, Mr. Cooper had hired you on the spot.

Later, during your first full week at your new job, you’d come to discover why Mr. Cooper had hired you so quickly ­– he’d been desperate for a new assistant. Overhearing some of the other ladies whispering to each other during lunch, you’d been able to piece together exactly why. Apparently, Mr. Cooper and his former personal assistant had been having an affair. He’d gotten her pregnant and wanted nothing to do with her or the baby – he was a married man after all. This was where the story had gotten hazy, and the grape vine sang different songs. One version of the story said he’d forced her to get an abortion and riddled with grief over the dead baby and their failing relationship, she’d quit her job and moved back to her parents in Maine. While the other version of the story said that, rightfully angry at Mr. Cooper for not taking any responsibility over their situation, she’d gone to visit his wife at home to tell her about what’s been going on. Which story was the truth, you don’t know. What you did know, was that Mr. Cooper was still married, and his previous assistant was no longer working for him.

Even if the job had been intimidating at first, you’d quickly gotten used to it. You stayed on top of everything: Mr. Copper’s clients, his calls, his schedule. Ordered flowers for his wife, and even sent boxes of chocolates to his various paramours. You’d made sure the bar in his office was always stacked with his favorite bourbon, and most importantly: you’d made sure to be seen and not heard. It’s what he told you, in the job interview, that he wanted.

You had thought you were doing a good job, but clearly, Mr. Cooper had been laboring under a different impression…

Your day had started like every other day – normal. You’d arrived at work fifteen minutes before Mr. Cooper, like always. Dutifully greeting him with a sweet “Good morning, sir!” at your desk, and served him his morning coffee minutes later. The day continued like normal, occupied with calls and speaking to clients, you had no idea what shocking message you’d receive at the end of your day.

Outside the club, you gave Deborah a meek smile which faded when you saw the line snaking its way down the street, “Sure, but… we’ll never get in.”

“Get down tonight, get down tonight,”

The words of KC And The Sunshine Band traveled through the open club door, the music filled the warm summer air.

“Don’t worry, babes!” she beamed, “I know the owner.” With an overdramatic wink and a giggle, she pulled you towards the bouncer.

“Baby, baby, I'll meet you, same place, same time,”

“How exactly do you know the owner of this place?” you queried, as you passed through the door of the club while the music got louder and louder.

“Where we can get together, and ease up our mind,”

“Let’s just say we had a weekend together…,” she giggled, “and I got to know him very… intimately.”

Your eyes widened at her implications, and Deborah giggled even louder.

“Don’t look so surprised!” she laughed, “I’m all about free love,” she joked, putting up a peace sign.

A heat burned your cheeks. Still, after three years in LA you needed to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t in your small rural hometown anymore. No one was going to arrest you for talking about sex. Nevertheless, the habit was hard to shake, and the roots of the rules you’d grown up with – the ones that had taught you to be the perfect student and the perfect daughter – stayed embedded in your mind.

“So…” Deborah started, her back against the bar while she took her first sip of her Apple Martini. She’d ordered you some fruity cocktail you’d never had before that she swore you’d like. “What exactly did that sad excuse of a man say to you when he fired you?”

With a scrunch of your nose, you turned your attention to your drink, taking a sip. It tasted sugary, but fresh, one of those dangerous drinks where you couldn’t taste the alcohol.

“Let’s not talk about it?” you sighed, shooting Deborah another meek smile.

She returned your smile, but it was full of pity. “You’re right! Let’s not– Let’s forget that fucker,” she said, taking a generous sip of her drink, “you’ll easily get a new job! I know it!” she smiled.

Not soon after Deborah had finished her first drink, a man interrupted your conversation. The man was tall, with black wild hair, pork chops and a matching mustache. He was wearing a flower-patterned shirt tucked into a pair of brown bell-bottoms. The top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, revealing dark chest hair and a gold chain. He wasn’t bad looking.

His hand on Deborah’s back didn’t seem to bother her, quite the opposite, she jumped excitedly, throwing her hands around his neck in greeting. You couldn’t hear what he whispered in her ear over the music, but it made her laugh.

“This is Tommy! He owns the club,” Deborah introduced you.

With a friendly smile, you shook Tommy’s hand and introduced yourself. His grip was firm, not like those people that made shaking their hand feel like gripping a dead fish. You decided that it was a good sign.

“So– are ya enjoyin’ yourselves, ladies?” he asked with a charming smile.

“Oh, yes!” Deborah smiled, her painted nails landing on his bicep, “But I think we’d enjoy ourselves even more after another drink.”

With a knowing smile and an easy laugh, Tommy ushered the bartender closer. “’nother round for these two beautiful ladies,” he ordered, “and… they’re drinkin’ on the house for the rest of the night,” he added, sending Deborah a wink.

The bartender served you your second drink just as Tommy convinced Deborah to dance with him. Quickly, she downed her Apple Martini before she turned to you, guilt written all over her face.

“You okay by yourself for a little bit?”

“Yeah– sure!” you nodded, “Go have fun!”

With a sorry smile and a promise to be right back, Deborah left you at the bar, dragged out on the dancefloor by Tommy.

Left to your own devices, you still felt a little awkward. This was supposed to be a girls night. Pushing off the bar, you turned to lean your back against it. You bopped your head to the music, trying to not look so out of place. In your hands, your drink was slippery from the condensation around the glass. Out on the dancefloor, the crowd looked like it moved in slow motion through the blinking lights, bodies twisting their hips and grooving to the beat. You took another sip.

It’s a strange feeling, feeling so alone, while surrounded by a crowd of people. To your, a couple gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes as they passed a cigarette back and forth, a ribbon of smoky white, clouded them in a love fog. They leaned closer, sharing a kiss. You quickly averted your eyes, desperate for something else to rest your eyes on.

Instead, they fell on a man.

You locked eyes with him from across the room. Clad in tight denim he sat casually in a booth in the corner, legs spread slightly. His hand was wrapped around a whisky glass, with a cigarette pinched between his fingers. With a shy smile, you quickly looked away again, eyes back to watching the bodies on the dancefloor. You took another sip of your drink, trying to act casual.

He wasn’t watching you, was he? Why would he? No one usually looked at you twice.

You were no good at this. Flirting. You were painfully awful at it to be completely honest. Too shy to be sexy, and never interesting enough, or pretty enough for a second date.

Your experience with dating didn’t really go further than the few dates you’d gone on with John, from accounting. He’d acted so sweet: opened doors for you, held out your chair, kissed you at your doorstep at the end of the night. He had been a dream. Then on your third date, he’d invited you back to his place for a nightcap. One thing led to another, and soon you were laying under him as he thrusted inside you. It was your first time – and he hadn’t known. It had hurt so much; you’d turned your face away so he wouldn’t see your tears. After, he’d called you a cab, not bothering to even kiss you goodbye. In the office the next day, he’d pretended like you’d never even existed: no more tender kisses, no more door opening, no more smiles. Your dream had turned into a nightmare.

He’d pulled you aside during lunch and told you it wouldn’t work out between the two of you. You were just such different people. You’d deflated like a balloon at his words, sinking into your chair as you watched him walk down the corridor back to his cubicle. To make matters worse you’d overheard him say, to some of his colleges by the watercooler, how awful in bed you’d been. It had been humiliating. And now, every time you as much as attempted to flirt with someone, a bell of shame rang in your ears.

The man couldn’t have looked at you. He’d for sure only looked in the direction of the bar. But something burned your cheek, and you couldn’t fight your eyes from trailing back in his direction.

Dark hair and a tidy mustache. Lips pulled up into a cheeky smile as you locked eyes with him again. He took a drag of his cigarette, and the fire lit up his handsome face. You felt something pool in your stomach. His gaze still on you as he exhaled, challenging you with a raised eyebrow. Again, your cheeks burned, and you had to look away. Suddenly, your own platform shoes looked extremely interesting.

“I remember when rock was young, me and Susie had so much fun,”

The sound of Elton John was the perfect distraction from the alluring stranger. You were sure that if you looked back at him again, you’d only embarrass yourself. You always did. Slurping up the rest of your drink, you pushed off the bar, and headed towards the dancefloor.

“Holding hands and skimming stones. Had an old gold Chevy, and a place of my own,”

Moving your hips to the beat you vanished in the bodies. And soon you were “hopping and bopping” to the Crocodile Rock, singing loudly along with the crowd to “Laa, la-la-la-la-laa”.

The air was clammy and stuffy, and sweat clung to your skin, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. You were here to leave your shitty day behind. To dance it away. You moved through the crowd; a smile bright on your face while your feet couldn’t stay still. The handsome stranger in the booth, already forgotten.

As the song faded out, a new song faded in. It was slower. A slightly erotic, but melodic guitar filled the room, accompanied by a luring salsa rhythm. You slowed down your dancing. It felt like you were threading through water.

“Ain't got nobody that I can depend on. Ain't got nobody that I can depend on,”

A pair of hands landed on your hips, making you jump. Behind you, you heard the deep chuckle of a man.

“Relax, darlin’,” he whispered in your ear, moving your hips in time with his.

You leaned back against his body; head tipped back against his broad chest to get a look at the man. Your stranger from the booth. He wore a cocky smirk, but he didn’t come across as full of himself. He was confident. Confident in the way he held your body – big hands splayed over your hips. Confident in the way he danced, like he knew exactly what he was doing, and he did.

“Ain't got no one (no tengo a nadie). That I know of (no tengo a nadie). That I can depend on (no tengo a nadie),”

You let him move your body, turning you around to take your hand in his, pulling you closer to his chest. He smelled like cigarettes and cologne. He’d been watching you, you realized, not the bar. Interested enough in you to follow you out on the dancefloor. It intimidated you, but under the intimidation it also excited you.

He led your movements. You were no dancer, but he made it so easy, spinning you around with ease before pulling you back towards his body. The eye contact was intense, like he was searching for your soul. Santana’s wailing guitar and the stranger’s hand at your waist was the only thing grounding you to the moment.

“I ain't got nobody, that I can depend on (no tengo a nadie),”

The song reached its climactic end. The man spun you one last time before he pulled you tight against his chest. It was like the song’s ending had broken a spell over the two of you, the air of sensuality was gone, and replaced by his genuine smile and breathy laugh.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked you over the funky bassline of Eagles’ One of These Nights.

Wide-eyed, “Please,” was the only thing you could utter.

With a hand resting at the small of your back he led you through the crowd towards the bar, where he got the bartender’s attention immediately. 

“An Old Fashioned for me Doug, and…” he looked towards you with a smile.

“Um… a Tequila Sunrise?” you said with a shy smile.

“A Tequila Sunrise, for this beautiful lady,” he told the bartender.

Grabbing one of the bar stools he sat down and gestured for you to do the same. You’d just about sat down before he leaned forward, grabbed a hold of your stool, and pulled you closer to him. A squeal escaped you before it turned into a giddy laugh.

“Thank you, Doug!” he told the bartender when he returned with your drinks.

“On a first name basis with the bartender– you here often?” you asked him, taking a sip of your drink.

“Not as often as I’d liked– it’s my lil’ brother’s club,” he told you, taking a sip of his own drink.

“You’re Tommy’s brother?” you wondered with a frown, a little shocked.

“You know Tommy?” he asked, equally shocked.

You shrugged, “Yes– well… not really.”

He took another sip of his drink, eyes urging you to go on.

“I met him earlier– he’s… well,” you didn’t know how to explain it, “I’m here with my friend Deborah, and I guess her and Tommy are…” you trailed off.

“Fuckin’?” he finished for you, grin wide on his face.

You only nodded, swallowing down another sip of your drink.

“Yeah, I’ve heard all about Deborah…” he trailed off with a look on his face like he knew a secret, “… but nothing about her beautiful friend.”

You huffed out a laugh and turned your head, heat traveling up your neck to your cheeks, “I’m not sure there’s much to know.”

“How about your name?” he suggested.

You turned back to look at him, really look at him.

Had Deborah set him up for this?

You wouldn’t put it past her if she had. She was always urging you to go out with her. To clubs, to parties in The Hills, on double dates. You wanted to go, you really did, but a voice in the back of your head always held you back. You’d thought moving to LA would be the remedy. All alone in a big city would surely help you come out of your shell, right? The harsh reality had been that LA hadn’t magically fixed you. You’d thought you’d be a completely different person here, but you’d packed your insecurities in your baggage. The only person who was gonna help you out of your shell, you’d started to realize… was you.

Putting on a brave face, disguised as a friendly smile, you gave him your name. The man was silent for a moment, nodding as he brought his lips to the rim of his glass again, taking another sip of his drink. It made you hold your breath.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said eventually with an easy grin. His compliment sent a warmth to your cheeks, while you fought an urge to squinch your face with embarrassment.

After a second of silence, you raised a brave eyebrow at him, “What about your name? Or shall I just call you Tommy’s brother?”

He chuckled lightly, eyes glinting, before he cleared his throat, “Name’s Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeated with a nod, making his cocky smile wider. Tasting his name on your tongue, you decided it sounded pleasant on your lips.

“So– you’re Deb’s friend?” Joel started, to which you confirmed with a nod. “How come she’s never brought you ‘round before?” he wondered with a sip of his drink.

You gave him a relaxed shrug, “I’m not much of a drinker– if I’m honest.”

He leaned forward, like he was about to whisper a secret to you, “You are aware of the fact that you’re in a club, aren’t you?” he teased.

Your mouth dropped open before you playfully rolled your eyes at him, “Shut up,” you said, “I’m not usually much of a drinker… at least not without good reason.”

“So, what’s the good reason?” Joel asked, raising a single eyebrow, “Boyfriend dumped ya?”

“Boss dumped me, actually…” you corrected, “I got fired.”

Joel sucked some air between his teeth, “Ouch… you better get another drink, then.” He turned his body towards the bar to casually raise a hand, getting the attention of Doug.

You let out a scoffing laugh, shaking your head at his teasing tone, “Maybe I will.”

As you finish your Tequila Sunrise, Joel ordered you another one, and one for himself. You felt hot to the touch. The alcohol coursed through your body like liquid courage, it traveled through your bloodstream, greasing the part of yourself where your confidence laid dormant.

“What did you work as?” he asked, sipping his own Tequila Sunrise.

“I am–was…” you corrected, “a personal assistant.”

“A good one?” Joel wondered.

Taking a large sip of your drink, you tried to swallow down your failure.

“You’d have to ask my boss,” you breathed out.

“The one that fired ya?” he returned with a cocky smile, and you fought an urge to roll your eyes.

Sitting up a little straighter you narrowed your eyes at him, “What do you do, then? If you’re so good at your job?”

“Never said I was good at it,” he shrugged, cocky grin not going anywhere.

“You gonna make me ask you again?” you deadpanned, your shyness shedding with every sip of your drink.

Joel looked amused, like he was in on a secret only he knew. You continued to stare at him, raising a challenging eyebrow at his continued silence.

“I’m an actor,” he confessed.

You couldn’t hide the impressed look that crossed your face. Sure, you’d been in LA for three years, he wasn’t the first actor you’d met, and he for sure wouldn’t be the last, but it was something about the way he said it.

“A good one?” you used his own words against him, making him chuckle.

He took another sip of his drink, “I’d like to think so,” he smiled, looking at you over the rim of his glass.

“Anything I’d know?” you wondered, watching him put his glass down.

The corners of his mouth twitched into what looked like an ironic smirk, “God, I kinda of hope not,” he said, eyes trailing the scratches and dents in the dark wood of the bar.

You both went quiet, as you sipped your drinks. You’d started to wonder if you’d maybe said something wrong, when Joel cleared his throat.

“Not to mix business with pleasure–” he started, turning towards you, mouth twitching again at the innuendo, “but I happen to be looking for an assistant.”

“Oh, really?” you deadpanned, convinced he was pulling your leg.

“You don’t believe me?” he breathed out a chuckle.

“Let’s see: a strange man dances with me in a club,” you held up a finger, “then buys me a drink, then offers me a job? I may not be from around here, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that one.” You laughed with a shake of your head.

As you laughed, it hit you how easily you found it to jest with Joel. Usually, you were the quiet one. The one observing or just listening, always too shy to joke freely, especially with people you didn’t know, but somehow, in this moment you felt free. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was getting fired. Or maybe… it was Joel.

“Well, believe it or not, I ain’t fibbin’… it really depends on how much you need a job,” he took another sip of his drink.

“I just got fired,” you said matter of factly.

Joel gave you an infuriatingly innocent shrug, “Then you better start believing me when I say I’m looking for an assistant.”

You couldn’t do anything other than scoff in disbelief. “So what?” you asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow, “You’re just gonna offer me a job after knowing me for barely an hour? No interview or nothing?”

“Do I need to be interviewin’ ya?” he wondered innocently.

“It’s a job!” you spluttered, “You always interview people before you give them a job!”

He gave you a nonchalant shrug. “Then I guess I will… so what can you tell me about yourself? What makes you a good assistant?” he asked, tone genuine as he placed an elbow on the bar counter and rested his head in his hand.

“I don’t mean now!” you let out in a nervous squeak, and Joel seemed to enjoy the way you shifted nervously in your seat.

He shrugged, “Alright then… you got time for coffee? Say… tomorrow mornin’?”

Ten to ten the next morning you met Joel for coffee.

Wanting to give him a good and professional impression – he could be your new employer after all ­­– you’d worn your brown three pieced suit with a purple paisley shirt under your suit vest. It made you feel strong– well usually, right now you couldn’t seem to shake the pre-interview nerves… Anyway, you were hoping your outfit would make Joel think you had your shit together – at least put together enough for him to hire you.

With eyes scanning the café, you found him at a table by the window, smoking a cigarette. When you approached him, heels clicking against the hardwood floor, he checked his watch.

“Ten minutes early!” he remarked with a grin.

“Reliability and punctuality are good qualities in a new employee, I’ve heard.” You shot him a shy smile before you placed your bag on the floor by your chair.

He hummed, watching you with an easy smile as you sat down opposite him while shedding your jacket. The white smoke danced in front of his face like coiling ribbons. Clad in a striped polo with a Johnny collar he’d tucked into a pair of Levi’s jeans, he relaxed in his chair, shifting slightly, and spreading his legs wider. The movement, like a reflex, drew your eyes to his lower half. His Levi’s were tight, held in place by a big western belt buckle, but it wasn’t his belt buckle that caught your attention.

“So…” he started. His voice startled you, and you flicked your eyes back to his face. His playful smile told you he’s caught you checking him out. Embarrassed, you looked past him, not daring to make eye contact as you fought the urge to cringe.

“How are ya?” he took another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth.

“I’m–I’m good thank you,” you gave him a nervous smile, the confidence from last night gone with the rise of the sun, “how are you?”

“I’m good too, sweetheart,” he nodded, “wanna have this interview…? Or should I just tell you now you’re hired?”

Perplexed, your eyebrows met in a furrow, “What do you mean?”

“Honey, I already decided last night I’d hire you,” he grinned with another drag of his cigarette.

“I–… I mean are you sure?” you stuttered, “I brought my resume and references and everything– don’t you want to take a look at them?” you wondered, a hand dropping to your bag to fish out your newly typed resume and references. You tapped the papers against the table before placing them neatly in front of him.

Retracting your hands, you rested them in your lap, while you watched him. He placed his cigarette in his mouth before he picked up your resume. His eyes scanned the paper, his head nodding slightly.

“Graduated high school in 1970… A year as a cashier at Piggly Wiggly…” he started listing, his cigarette dipping with each word, “A year at Greasy Motors?”.

“Um– yes!” you peeped, “It’s my uncle’s garage shop– I worked as their secretary,” you told him, picking at the skin around your nails.

“You any good with cars?” he asked, one eyebrow raised as he took one last drag of his cigarette.

“No–No not really… I just spoke to the customers, answered the phone and stuff like that.”

You’d wanted to learn some of the basics, but you’d quickly given up. None of the guys had taken you seriously, and they had made sure to let you know where your place was – it was not with your hands deep in an engine.

Joel hummed at your answer and stubbed out his cigarette. “And Mr. Cooper’s the one that fired ya?” he asked.

You gave him a short nod. Your pointer finger burned with pain as you pulled at a piece of skin you’d picked loose around your nail.

“Why?”,

“The honest answer?” you sighed, and he nodded.

“I don’t know,” you told him, “he just called me into his office at the end of the day and told me he was gonna have to let me go– I was honestly too shocked to ask him why.”

“Oof,” Joel frowned.

“Yeah,” you sighed, you didn’t know what else to say.

“Well… you’ve given me a great impression, both last night and right now, so you’ve got the job, sweetheart– if you want it.” He leaned back in his chair, letting your resume fall from his hands.

“It can’t be that easy, can it?” the words fell from your lips before you had time to think. Joel raised a curious eyebrow at you. “I mean what’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch.”

He seemed to think about it for a beat, “Unless there is…” Joel’s lips tugged at the corners as he leaned over the table, “Remember I said I was an actor?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.

You gave him a skeptical nod.

“I’m an adult actor…” he lowered his voice, “You understand?” he asked before he leaned back in his seat again.

An adult actor. Your eyes widened with realization.

“Wait… you mean,” you looked around you before you leaned forward over the table like he’d just done, “you’re a pornstar?” you whispered, feeling your cheeks start to burn with embarrassment.

“Is that a problem for you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Was it? Was it a problem for you?

The question tugged at the back of your neck. Tugged on your childhood, on your upbringing. You’d escaped; had your own apartment now, made your own money. You were trying to come into your own, to finally be your own person.

With teeth digging into your bottom lip, you looked at Joel. He watched you expectantly, head tipping slightly to the right as he studied you. There was no malice in his eyes, and nothing about him seemed grimy or obscene… Nothing about him screamed pornstar. If someone like him could do something so… unusual, for a job, maybe wasn’t so bad.

“No,” you decided, “it’s not a problem.”

“Groovy!” he grinned, “I’ll have my manager draw up a contract for you.”

And just like that you were officially Joel Miller’s, aka the infamous Joel Packer, personal assistant.

Joel sat on the tiled steps outside his house, smoking a cigarette, when you pulled up to the curb. He perked up when he saw you, grabbing his worn leather duffel bag before he waltzed down his driveway.

“Cab for Miller?” you joked through the rolled down window, ducking your head to peek up at him.

He chuckled at your joke, pinching his cigarette between two fingers for one last drag, before putting it out with a twist of his shoe. The smog laid low over LA this morning, like a blanket. It was gonna be a long day, and a long drive.

Letting out a small grunt, Joel got in your car. The smell of cigarettes and cologne – the smell of him – filled the space between you. He twisted around tossing his duffel bag into the backseat, and your eyes couldn’t help but land on his bicep, watching the way his muscles flexed under the weight. You felt a sudden urge to roll down the window a little further.

When he turned back around, the smooth wood of your steering wheel looked extremely interesting.

“Thanks for drivin’, sweetheart. My car’s still in the shop for ‘nother few days.”

The corner of your mouth twisted into a small smile, “No problem, Joel.”

“Are we all set?” he breathed out his question before his hands landed on his thighs with a dull smack!

“Um, yes, it’s just…” you turned to look at him. He was dressed casually in jeans and a Steely Dan concert tee – All-American Tour ’74 – with his yellow tinted pilot sunglasses tucked into his neckline.

“Just what, sweetheart?”,

“I picked up a package for you– it’s in the backseat,” you cocked your head in the direction.

“What is it?” he twisted back around, one hand searching for the cardboard box behind his seat.

Even in the smoldering LA heat, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks heat up. “Um… it’s your package.”

“Yeah, I got that, honey– but what is it?” he asked again, twisting his hand back and placing the cardboard box in his lap.

You let out a small whine, “Don’t make me say it Joel– it’s your package.” You gestured a hand over your nether region.

Joel looked at you with a mischievous smile spreading across his face, “Oh, now I really wanna hear you say it,” he teased, hooking his finger under the tape.

“It’syourdick,” you said quickly, “–the dildo.”

In another step towards furthering Joel Packer’s success, he’d been asked to model for a sextoy. It’s no surprise he’d been asked. With the women’s liberation movement gaining more and more followers every day, more women had been exploring their own sexuality. Joel was popular with both men and women. He was like a chameleon when it came to porn. He knew just what to give, whether that would be hardcore porn, tossing his scene partners around and making them come until they couldn’t anymore; or doing full frontal nudity for a centerfold for Playgirl. 

With a drag of the tape, Joel laughed, his shoulders shaking. “I can’t believe you’re still shy about that stuff, sweetheart. You’ve been workin’ for me for how long now, huh? And you still can’t say dick to my face– what do you say to my business partners? Wiener?”

“I’m not shy,” you denied rather unconvincingly, making him shoot you an unimpressed look making you flutter. “I don’t know… it’s just different saying it to you!”

“Why?” he asked, pulling out the box with the dildo he’d modeled for.

Your eyes followed his hands, running over the pink packaging, the handsome photo they’d used of him on the front.

“I-I don’t know… it just is.”

A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as he hummed – not convinced. Instead, he opened the box, pulling out the sextoy. The company had sent him one before they’d hit the shelves at the end of the month. They were being advertised in Playgirl first – to build up the hype. The sextoy looked exactly like him, and at the same time, nothing like him. The size and shape were true to life (8 inches like they’d advertised on the box), but the color was wrong.

“This is so fuckin’ weird,” he laughed, turning it in his hand, “’s this what I look like?”

“The color looks wrong,” you pointed out. He looked over at you for a beat and then back to the sextoy.

“’s a little… plastic-y,” he commented, “and weird lookin’ without the balls…”

He put the dildo back in the box before he handed it to you. You shook your head and turned the car key, “Just put it back in the backseat.”

“No, ‘s not what I meant,” he nudged your arm with the box, “you have it.”

You were glad the car stood still because the shock of his words would’ve made you get in a car accident.

“Why?” you said, a little flustered.

“Exactly what do women do with a dildo, I wonder?” he teased, nudging your arm again.

“No, Joel, that’s just weird– you’re my boss.” You nudged him back before you put the car in drive.

“You prefer the real thing, then?” a teasing lilt still wrapped around his words.

“Shut up,” you huffed, focusing on driving instead.

“I’m just messin’, sweetheart!” he laughed and threw the box messily behind him.

Leaning forward, Joel pushed the play button on your car radio. The cassette deck whirled before a twangy sound of piano filled your car as you started cruising down the road. A few seconds later Joni Mitchell sang the opening lines of the title track ‘Court and Spark’.

“I need you in charge of the map,” you broke the silence between you after a few minutes, “I don’t know where the house is.”

He opened your glove compartment, pulling out your map of California. You focused on the road while he studied the map.

“Looks like we need to get on the 101– it should take about three hours, Ronald said.”

You hummed. Ronald was Joel’s manager. He’d represented Joel for as long as Joel’s been in porn. Ronald was sleazy, and gross, and you tried to only be in his presence when it was absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, for you, Ronald was a good manager, and the reason why Joel Packer was as popular a pornstar as he was.

“When we get to Pismo Beach we’ll just stop and ask around for the address.” Joel said, folding the map.

Usually, Ronald was the one who came along to set with Joel. His reasoning being that there was business to attend to, and that he was supportive of his client, but you knew the real (pervy) reason. You on the other hand had only come along to set a few times. Quick to embarrassment, you’d quickly hid yourself away in Joel’s dressing room, claiming you had work you’d neglected to do.

This time, Ronald couldn’t make it because of scheduling conflicts. Joel was gonna go alone, but then his car had broken down on the 405. He needed a ride, and who else to ask other than the person he paid to help him out. The shoot was taking place at a beach house somewhere in Pismo Beach. You’d never been to Pismo Beach before, and neither had Joel. The booking agent had told you it was nice enough and secluded. Perfect for shooting a porno without bringing too much attention. 

Three hours later, you and Joel arrived at the shoot. The beach house was busy and filled with people working like ants to get the film set ready. The shoot was scheduled to last for one day, and as the time flew past 10am, you were starting to get short on time.

As soon as you stepped inside, they ushered Joel straight to make-up and wardrobe. Careful not to be in anybody’s way, you took a look around the house. It was beautiful. Newly built, not more than ten years old you guessed, and right on the beach. Warm wood tones lined the walls and floors, and on the ceilings, sturdy beams met in the middle. A leather couch with matching chairs was turned towards the big floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the beach, and a cowhide rug decorated the floor. They’d set up a step ladder by the windows, all ready for the first scene.

You found Joel a moment later in one of the bedrooms sitting, in a chair as he got his make-up done. You noticed he’d already changed into his costume. A pair of overalls with nothing underneath, and a toolbelt hanging from his hips.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he greeted, his eyes trailing your body.

“Hi,” you smiled, “How you feeling? Can I get you anything?”

He looked at you, a pregnant pause passing between the two of you, “No, not right now.”

“Oh, okay!” you nodded, teeth catching your bottom lip, “Just let me know if there’s anything.”

You moved over to the bed where his clothes were spewed across the bedding. Trying to make yourself useful, you picked them up to fold them.

“D’you know if Tess is ready?” you heard him ask.

Tess was Joel’s scene partner for the day, and also his most frequent scene partner. They’d been in more films together over the past years than you could count, their chemistry always electric. Everything they did was just hot, and this time would be no exception. Tess was playing a neglected housewife all alone in her big beach house until carpenter Joel arrived to help her feel less alone with his tool(s).

“Um, no… I haven’t seen her at all– but I can go find out if you want?” you said, placing his folded t-shirt neatly on the bed.

“No, bless your heart, it’s okay,” he spoke slowly, watching the make-up artist pack up her things before telling him he’s all set.

Left alone with Joel he spoke again, “You gonna watch today?”

His question kicked your heart into gear, stuttering along like a teenager who can’t drive stick. “I-I don’t know yet,” you folded his jeans, “… do you want me to?”

You felt him move closer, but he didn’t answer you. Gathering your courage, you met his eyes. He was watching you with a soft look in his eye, a look he’d sent you more and more often lately.

Grabbing your wrist, his calloused fingers like a warm bracelet, he took his jeans from your hand and placed them down next to his t-shirt.

“I’d like that.”

He said it with a smile, and you couldn’t do anything other than nod.

Joel had started to make you feel lots of things lately. Warm fuzzy feelings bubbled under your skin, just like the warmth from his hand on your wrist right now. Joel was a flirt, cocky and confident. Your complete opposite. You weren’t as shy as you’d been at the start of your job, but you couldn’t help but still be shy around Joel sometimes. Especially when he smiled at you the way he was right now, or when you felt his touch on your body.

The first scene they shot was the intro. A cheesy scene where Joel got invited into Tess the housewife’s home. One too many innuendos about ‘tools’ later, you’d slipped away before lunch time to find the catering table, fixing up a plate for Joel and one for yourself. After lunch, the fun began as the director had said. 

“Hey, sweetheart?” Joel’s fingers brushed over the back of your arm, getting your attention. You were about to go sit in his director’s chair, to watch as you’d promised.

“Yeah, Joel?” you looked at him through your lashes, your face curious. You tried very hard to keep them on his face, and not to let them wander to the outline of his hard cock through his overalls.

“Could you go get me some lube?” he asked you, eyes pleading.

“Oh! Um–” you nervously perked up, “Yes, of course,” you nodded, turning around yourself on the spot like you were already on the lookout.

“Thanks!” His hand landed on your shoulder, turning you to focus back on him, fingers rubbed over the material of your shirt. He was smiling at you, a small glint in his eye as he took you in. It made something inside you flutter, your eyes eclipsing over.

“OK guys! Quiet on set!” the director called, pulling you and Joel from your moment. His hand fell from your shoulder, a sorry smile draped across his face.

Slipping away, you went on a hunt for lube. When you came back you were met with the deep grunts of Joel as he got his cock sucked. He was fully naked, standing at the edge of the bed with Tess naked and dutifully on her knees for him – pleasuring him to heaven by the looks of it.

“There you go, baby,” he praised Tess, his big hand entangled in her hair as he pushed himself deeper down her throat. “You like sucking cock, don’t you? Like cheating on your husband like the dirty fuckin’ whore you are, huh?”

You knew he was just reading off his lines, but he said them like he hadn’t practiced at all, it was all so natural. Stumbling backwards towards his director’s chair, you sat down. You felt drawn to the scene before you, caught up in the moment, in the sounds of Joel’s moans and Tess’ spluttering around his cock. Never had you allowed yourself to watch him this openly before – it sent an electric pulse to your core.

Tess gave him head for a few minutes more, filth and praises fell from Joel’s mouth as the cameraman dutifully got every angle. Mesmerized by the scene playing out before you, a small pit started to form in your stomach – a mixture of pleasure and… jealousy. You shifted in the chair at the thought of you on your knees for him instead, pleasuring him and pulling those moans from his lips. Wondering if the praising words he told Tess, would sound different if it was you he told them to instead. You didn’t realize how caught up in the sight in front of you until you heard someone call your name.

It was Joel.

Shaking yourself from your fantasy daydreaming, you pulled yourself together. They’d changed positions while the cameraman changed the film. Joel was now sat on his knees on the bed with his cock standing to attention. On her back, he had Tess’ legs parted and splayed open in front of him.

Why was he talking to you?

He called your name again, figuring you hadn’t heard him over the humming of conversation now filling up the set. You hopped off the chair and nervously scurried over to him.

“What’s up?” you whispered. Your eyes were glued to his face, not daring to glide them even an inch downwards.

He hooked his fingers around your thumb. On his face he was wearing the widest grin, “Could you grab me some water?”

His touch sent your brain into overdrive, your eyes blinking around his question, “Y-yes– I’ll be right back.” His touch fell, and you scurried away to find him some water before they started filming again.

Back, and with a bottle of water in your hand you allowed yourself one quick look at his naked body. His broad chest, the way his muscles moved underneath his tan skin. Your eyes raked over his body, down his stomach, trailing the happy trial down to his impressive cock.

“Okay, everybody– we’re all set!” The loud voice of the director made you jump. Joel handed back the bottled water, a rough hand wiping the corner of his mouth.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

If he’d clocked you checking him out, he didn’t show it. Instead, he got ready while you made your way back to his director’s chair. Tess said something you couldn’t quite catch, but it got his attention. He grinned from ear to ear, a quick look in your direction, before he playfully shook his head at her.

The next scene had you squirming in your seat.

With his head between her legs, Joel used both his mouth and fingers to pleasure her – and Tess was clearly enjoying herself. Her hands were digging into his hair, pushing him greedily down onto her pussy. High pitched, pornographic moans and whimpers escaped her. Joel was clearly enjoying himself too, moaning and groaning into her pussy as he ate her out greedily, making sure to pull every ounce of pleasure from her.

Tess came with a cry, withering breathlessly as she squirmed in Joel’s hold. He held her shaking legs in a tight grip, not letting up his licking and sucking until he’d pulled another orgasm from her. With a breathless laugh she pushed him away, big wide smile spreading as he peppered kisses to the inside of her thigh. You shifted slightly in your seat. An unmistakable wetness had gathered in your panties. You crossed your leg over the other, subtly.

With a tap to her thigh Joel encouraged Tess to turn over. He sat up, resting back on his heels as he stroked his cock languidly. Tess moved onto all fours, arching her back and putting herself on display for him. The camera moved in closer, a watchful eye, as Joel ran a finger through her folds.

“So wet for me, baby,” he said, replacing his fingers with the head of his cock. “This pussy’s been neglected, hasn’t it? ‘s just dying to be fucked.”

He thrusted inside her, burying himself in her pussy, moans and groans falling from both their lips. You felt the air stand still for a beat, before he pulled back and thrusted back inside. They quickly built up a rhythm, skin slap slap slapping, as their moans held the tune. They moved in sync. Joel kept up the pace, hands holding her waist firmly, while Tess met them with a breathy moan. When she gripped the sheets in pleasure, you wondered if it really felt as good as she let on, or if it was all just part of the show.

“Face the camera,” the director interrupted suddenly. He wanted a close up of Tess getting fucked.

Joel slipped out of her, the bright lights catching on his glistening cock. The sight of Tess’ arousal reminded you, and the bottle of lube in your lap, about your insignificancy. Joel quickly slipped back inside Tess, a hand gripping her shoulder as he picked up the pace again.

“Just like that, baby, you feel so fuckin’ good around my cock.”

You felt silly, the reality of what you’d just done settling in. Why on earth would you agree to watch Joel? Pornstar or not, he’s still your boss. Your longing for him to be something else, would never erase that fact.

Disappointment was a heavy rope tying you down. You needed to get out of there before you hurt your own feelings. Sliding out of the chair, you left the bottle of lube. Straightening out your suede skirt, let out a quiet sigh. You didn’t want to look at him, but something drew you to him either way.

You locked eyes immediately, his eyes were dark and intense. He picked up the pace, Tess almost screaming with pleasure underneath him, but his eyes still didn’t leave yours. You couldn’t look away. The world narrowed until the only thing you could see was him.

With a grunt and a firm thrust, Joel came inside her, mouth parted in pleasure and eyes never leaving yours.

Squeezed into a flimsy plastic chair, feet planted steadily in front of him, Joel sat smoking a cigarette by the pool. Ripples of blue swam across his face, before giving way to the soft warmth of the burning cigarette. He looked deep in thought as you got out of your car, a plastic bag of take-out swinging from your hand. You slammed the door shut, jolting Joel from his thoughts. The evening wind softly kissed your bare arms as you walked across the parking lot to the fenced in pool area.

The shoot had run long and by the time it was over, it was late. Joel was tired, and when he’d suggested you stay at a motel for the night, you’d been quick to agree. Watching the darkening sky, you’d started to dread the three-hour drive back to LA – you’d rather wait for daylight.

Situated right off the main road Joel had spotted a Motel 6 with the neon ‘Vacancy’ light humming. With tired steps you’d walked together towards the lobby, and the lady at the desk didn’t look up from her magazine when you and Joel approached. Behind her, coming through the door to the back office, you heard a laugh track.

Joel turned on his southern charm, “’Scuse me, ma’am.”

The receptionist still didn’t look up from her magazine.

“Do y’all have two rooms vacant?”

With a sigh, the woman looked up at him, peering over her glasses. “We only have one Queen left.” She smacked her lips together obnoxiously as she spoke, a piece of gum visible in her teeth.

Joel looked over at you, one eyebrow raised. Crossing your arms over your chest, you didn’t know what to say. If they only had one room, they only had one room. You tapped your foot restlessly, made a face like you were thinking it over before you gave Joel a short but affirmative nod. He watched you for another beat, before he turned back around to say, “We’ll take it.”

The room was nothing much; a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room, two chairs and a table tucked into one corner, and a door leading to a small bathroom. First thing Joel did was find a place to put his bag. You didn’t have a bag, only your handbag, you hadn’t planned on not sleeping in your own bed tonight. Joel, on the other hand, always brought a change of clothes to set. He’d told you once he didn’t like to leave in the same clothes he’d arrived in.

As you closed in on Joel by the pool you realized he was still wearing his clothes from this morning. He’d told you he wanted to shower, so you’d gone out to get you both some dinner to give him some privacy. Now you wondered if he’d even had his shower.

“Hungry?” you asked, putting the plastic bag down on the round table beside him.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette, watching you through a cheeky smile, “Starvin’.”

“The only thing open was the roadside diner, so I’m afraid it’s greasy burgers.” 

Joel gave you a shrug as you sat down, “Works for me.”

You ate in silence – sloshing coming from the pool and the cicadas hiding in the bushes, filled the air instead. When Joel finished his burger, and started on his fries, he looked up at you.

“So, what’d you think?” he asked you. You were silent for a second, before you looked down at the burger in your hand.

“Er...” you hesitated, not sure what he wanted you to say, “It’s not bad... meat’s a little dry, but–”

Joel interrupted your train of thought with a deep chuckle.

“I meant the porno, darlin’,” he said, using one of the napkins to wipe the corners of his mouth, “not the burger.” A smile pulled at his lips.

“Oh,” you said, and felt your cheeks fire up in embarrassment. You swallowed, buying yourself some time before you gave him a shrug.

“Was good,” you said, clearing your throat awkwardly, “I’m sure your fans will love it!”

“I wasn’t askin’ about them,” Joel said. His gaze felt like it was piercing through you, “Was askin’ you, wasn’t I? Did you like it?”

Despite the desperate embarrassment firing through your veins, you raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me about porn over dinner?”

“Fair point,” he said with a nod, “You’re deflecting, though.”

A small chuckle escaped you, a smile tugging on the corner of your mouth as you shook your head and looked away for a second.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked him, looking back at him, “It’s porn, I’m human... of course I liked it.”

Bingo.

You can see from the corners of Joel’s smile that he’s happy with that answer, and he lets out an agreeing hum.

“See?” he said, his tone teasing, “Was that so hard to admit?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you said through a small scoff, pushing your styrofoam container away from you as you fell back in your chair.

“I am–… what was your favorite part?”

He was grinning hard now. He dug a hand in his back pocket, fishing out his packet of cigarettes and his lighter. You watched him with your head tilted, waiting for him to let you off the hook like he usually did. Instead, he grinned even wider, small splutters of breathy giggles making the cigarette dip as he tried to light it.

“Gimmie that!” you commanded, reaching out your hand for his cigarette. With a surprised eyebrow he took a quick drag before he handed it over. He watched you quietly as you took a breath. Savoring the first tar-y breath filling up your lungs.

“I liked the way you…” you took another drag and exhaled through your nose, “I don’t know…” you handed him the cigarette.

“I’m waitin’,” he teased, making you playfully roll your eyes at him.

“Well,” you sighed, “I liked the way you’re so attentive and made sure she’s feeling good even though it’s acting and everything… Even when you’re like throwing her around, all in charge and stuff.” You waved away the words.

“Yeah, well, that is the most important part of sex,” he gave you a look. Suddenly, he was a little serious. “It’s not fun if she’s not havin’ fun.”

“Not every guy thinks like that, you know,” you spoke, “it’s really nice that you do.”

Joel hummed at your words before a comfortable silence fell over you. You listened to the buzzing cicadas and the burning of Joel’s cigarette every time he took a drag.

“And… the dirty talk was hot too– you’re good at that,” you mused after a moment, breaking the silence, feeling comfortable enough with Joel to tell him the truth. He doesn’t judge you about what you think was sexy, and you realized it felt nice to open up to somebody, to let your suffocating shame die.

“Now, darlin’,” you could hear the smile in his voice, “now you’re just strokin’ my ego.”

“I can stroke more than your ego.”

Joel choked on his cigarette, coughing around the smoke before he looked over at you with wide eyes. “Am I goin’ crazy, or did you just tell a dirty joke?”

Your giggle filled the air between you before you leaned forward for his cigarette again. You brought it to your mouth as you impishly shrugged. Inside, you buzzed with a fluttery feeling. 

You smiled at him. “I don’t know– you tell me.”

He playfully narrowed his eyes at you, leaning over the table to get a good look at you, “I’m not sure I’m likin’ this… where’s my sweet girl, huh?”

My sweet girl.

Your heart skipped like stones over water, and you had to look away. A smile blooming across your face. You heard him let out a sweet chuckle before he stood from his chair. The plastic feet scraping ever so slightly against the concrete. You watched him as he stepped before you, squatting down to be at eye level with you, his big hand landing on your exposed knee to steady himself.

“She’s still here,” you whispered after a moment. The cigarette between your fingers was burning out, but your whole body felt like it was on fire, a burning spreading from under his touch.

“I know she is, sweetheart,” he whispered back, his fingers rubbing gently over your skin. Joel looked at you with attentive eyes, “I love how shy you get for me.”

Before you had time to process his words, he pinched the cigarette from your fingers and stood to his feet. “Let’s call it a night?” he asked you, offering up his hand for you to take.

Feeling brave, you took his hand. It dwarfed your own, but it was strong, and warm in your hold. You watched as Joel finished off the cigarette, and stumped it out in the ashtray on the table, before gathering up your trash. You walked back to your room, hands intertwined and swinging between you. You couldn’t shake the thought of how you wished he’d kissed you.

Back inside your room he let you use the bathroom first. It was small, and the air was damp. You could see droplets of water clinging to the shower curtain. Joel did shower after all, he’d rinsed the day off into the drain. With no toiletries, you made do with what the motel offered. A bar of soap was sufficient enough to remove your make-up, but you knew your skin would punish you for it later. After brushing your teeth, you stepped back out where Joel waited for you on the bed.

“I’ve got a spare shirt if you wanna borrow it.” He held up his hand, handing you the clean cotton shirt he’d packed.

“Thanks,” you smiled shyly.

He watched you for a beat, his eyes soft, but tired. “And I’ll sleep in one of the chairs– don’t want ya worryin’ about nothin’.”

Shaking your head, you protested, “No, Joel, you’ve had a long day! I’ll sleep in the chair!”

This time he shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his mouth, “No, darlin’, you’re drivin’ tomorrow, remember? You’ll need your rest.”

Your eyebrows met in a furrow. He was right; you couldn’t do the drive back to LA tomorrow on no sleep, but you couldn’t live with yourself if he didn’t get any sleep either.

“Let’s just…” you trailed off, “You’re tired, I’m tired– let’s both sleep in the bed?” you suggested.

Crawling under the sheets clad in only your underwear and Joel’s t-shirt, you wondered if you were being unprofessional. This was technically a work trip. Joel was still your boss. You looked over at him where he sat on the edge with his back turned, fiddling with the alarm clock. Your eyes trailed over his bare back, tan and strong. You knew you could stare at him all night.

It was official: you’d left professional at the door.

Finally, the alarm clock set for tomorrow morning, Joel put it back on the nightstand. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he caught your eyes on his body. It made him smile.

“Joel? Can I ask you something?”

He got under the sheets, his foot grazing against yours as he got comfortable. “Yeah, sweetheart.”

“Can you turn off the light?”

“You needn’t ask me if you can ask me, to turn off the light,” he laughed, “you can just say ‘Joel, turn off the light’.”

You scrunched your face together. This was coming out all wrong. “No, I mean… I don’t think I can ask you my question with the lights still on.”

He looked you over with a warm smile before he leaned over and turned off the light on his nightstand. “There… what you want to ask me?”

Even bathed in darkness, you hesitated to speak. “Um… I guess…” you started, not knowing how to ask what you wanted to ask. You turned over on your back and stared at the ceiling, cursing the return of your shyness.

Joel waited for you patiently to gather your courage.

“How much… of porn, is fake?” you finally uttered.

Joel turned to his side, facing you, “What do you mean?”

“Like… when– when the girls…” You couldn’t say it.

“Come?”, he helped.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “is that real or… like– do they actually like it?”

“Right…”

Joel thought about your question, “’s hard to say… I mean mostly it’s real– at least in my experience– like I can feel it around my cock or fingers… but everybody has off days, and not everybody can come from penetration.”

Mostly it’s real. You went quiet, silently thinking about his answer as you stared a hole in the ceiling. Not everybody can come from penetration.

“Why you askin’ me this, sweetheart?” He shifted a little closer.

You pulled your hands from under the sheets, resting them over your chest. Your thumb on your right hand found your thumb on the left where it picked at the skin.

“Huh?”

“I­– I don’t know… it’s silly.”

“No, ‘s not– you’re not silly, sweetheart.” He shifted a little closer, a reassuring hand falling over your own and stopping you from picking at your fingers.

You didn’t say anything, and you didn’t look at him either. You felt silly. You’d just complimented him earlier about how attentive he comes across in bed, and now you’re asking him if any of it was even real. 

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Joel asked, breaking the silence between you.

Nodding your head, you hummed.

“Are you a virgin?”

His question almost made you jump. Suddenly, his previously calming hands over yours felt heavy. A fire started in your cheeks. You were mortified, and it felt crazy. If you were back home right now, you’d be mortified to tell anyone you weren’t a virgin seeing as you were unmarried. Now, with Joel, you felt mortified he thought you were one.

“No,” you peeped. It would’ve sounded like a lie if it wasn’t the truth. “W-what makes you say that?” You finally looked at him, your eyes wide as saucers.

Unconvinced, he gave you a lopsided smile, “How many have you slept with?”

“How many have you slept with?” you mumbled.

“Honey, we both know that I’ve slept with way too many to count.” He said it with a teasing lilt to his voice, and a comforting rub of his thumb over the back of your hand. His small touch was enough to relax you, to bring you back from the ledge of mortification. This was Joel for god’s sake. He would never judge you; you knew that.

“One…” you whispered, “Only one person.”

With a hum, Joel shifted over to lay on his back, but his thumb still rubbed circles over your skin. “So– you’re asking me this ‘cause it was bad?” he mused.

“I don’t know… maybe,” you whispered.

“You don’t know if it was bad– or you don’t know why you’re askin’ me if women enjoy sex?”

“The latter,”

“So, it was bad,” he concluded, before he whispered, mostly to himself.

The silence was back, speaking loudly between the two of you as you both processed what the other had just said. After a beat Joel turned back on his side to face you again.

“Tell me– how bad was it?” He said it softly, a tenderness in his voice you hadn’t heard before.

“It just… it hurt.”

You sighed, and for the first time since the light went out you turned your head to look at him. “John–” your face scrunched up in a grimace as you spoke his name, like you couldn’t believe you were telling him this story. “He worked in accounting, and we were going around, you know? Went on a few dates. He was a sweet guy. After the third date we went back to his place, for a drink. He kissed me– and then we were making out, and during everything I just thought ‘This might as well happen’. I thought I wanted to lose my virginity… and I liked John– so why not. But then he just… pulled off my underwear, didn’t even touch me and… went to town.”

Joel sucked a breath through his teeth, his hand gripping yours a little tighter. “Did you– have you ever had an orgasm?”

You shifted uncomfortably under his question and turned your head back towards the ceiling again. “Yes,” you whispered.

Joel moved a little closer, and you felt your body dip towards him from his weight against the mattress. His hand resting over yours traveled down your arm, and under the sheet.

“By your own hand then,” he said it more like a statement than a question.

You felt your heart beat out of your chest, as something in the air between you shifted. Underneath the covers your body burned. Sucking in a breath, you held it for a moment before you nodded.

“Show me.”

His hand grazed over your waist, fingers dancing over the exposed skin between the hem of his t-shirt and the waistband of your panties. You reveled in it, his touch, his proximity, his gentle kiss to your shoulder. You looked at him, searched his face for any indication that he was just messing with you.

“No? Ain’t feelin’ it?” He’d watched you too, you realized.

He withdrew his hand from your waist, and you panicked, “No!”

He stopped, instead hovering his hand over your body. “No, you ain’t feelin’ it, or no, don’t stop?” he asked you.

You panicked again. “Yes!” you said before your eyebrows met in a furrow, “I-I’m sorry, this isn’t very sexy.”

Joel withdrew his hand from your body, and your disappointment sank like a rock in water, but then he cupped your jaw and you forgot to breathe.

“Forget about sexy, sweetheart,” he told you, a calloused thumb rubbing against your skin, “not that you ain’t sexy– you are, but I need you to relax, okay?”

You nodded, and a smile spread wide across his face,

“Good girl.”

You almost mewled at the praise, and he noticed, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

“You liked that, huh?” he teased, rubbing his thumb softly over your lower lip, “Y’like being a good girl for me?”

You found it hard to think with him so close, breathless when he touched you like this. You nodded slowly; moony eyes fixated on him. Like a reflex, your legs rubbed together under the sheets, aching to relieve the pressure building.

“You’re so sweet, baby­– and shy,” his voice was low, like he was afraid someone would hear him. Slowly he leaned closer, pressing the softest kiss to your neck. A quiet whimper fell from your lips.

You felt Joel’s smile against your skin, teeth nipping as he pressed kiss after kiss to your sensitive skin. “You make my cock so fuckin’ hard.”

“Joel,” you finally choked out, a wet patch already soiling your panties.

“Yes?” he took your earlobe in his mouth, gently biting down on it before letting it go. You couldn’t think – at least not about something that wasn’t Joel and his touch.

“P-please kiss me?” you tried, your hand landing on his shoulder.

His breath puffed against your skin in a small chuckle, before he lifted his face from his new home in the crook of your neck. He found your blown out face, watching you with a tenderness in his eye. A beat passed and then he leaned closer, brushing his lips over yours. Your hand on his shoulder followed his neck to cup his face, keeping him close to you. His hand pushed gently at the sheets, revealing your upper body to him. The kiss was tender and slow, your noses pressed together. He pulled you apart and then put you together again. One of his hands trailed along the hem of your – his – t-shirt where he pushed at the fabric, bunching it just below your breasts. You broke apart.

“Was that all you wanted, sweet girl? Just a kiss?” His forehead touched your own, words low and taunting. You slowly shook your head, eyes still locked with Joel’s. His hand moved methodically, trailing down your stomach until it reached…

Your breath hitched in your throat.

“No?” he asked with a teasing grin, “What do you want then, sweetheart?”.

He already knew. His open palm cupped you over your soaked panties, the breadth of it pressing firmly down on your clit. You mewled under him, hips bucking up to meet his hand.

“Nah-ah,” he lifted his head from your forehead, dark eyes boring into yours. “You need to show me.”

Joel had started a dangerous fire inside of you. It lapped at your insides, burned away your insecurities, and replaced them with lust. With a shaky hand, your hand found Joel’s. His eyes were still locked on you ­– his gaze burning your cheek and branding you his.

“There you go,” he praised, letting you guide his hand up and down your clothed cunt, feeling your arousal seep through the fabric, “good girl.”

You guided him to your clit, pressing the pads of his finger down on it in tight circles. You were so sensitive – on edge since you watched him filming earlier – a small moan fell from your lips.

“Feels good doesn’t it, baby, getting your clit rubbed.”

“Yes…” Joel drew another moan from you.

Your grip around his hand loosened, and Joel took over. With a practiced hand he circled his fingers just right. He started with a steady pace and tight circles, before he put more pressure on your aching bud. He was bringing you closer and closer to the edge, coaxing small whimpers and breathy moans from your lips as you got more and more lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

“Have you ever fingered yourself, sweetheart?” he asked you, dipping his hand beneath your panties. A bold finger ran through your folds, a finger teasing at your entrance.

Your front teeth caught your lower lip, and you had to bite down to suppress a moan. It was hard to concentrate on what he was asking you when he was touching you like that.

“Y-yes, but…” you trailed off, feeling his finger, now coated in your arousal, back on your clit. It made your brain go blank.

“But what, sweet girl?” he pulled his hand from your panties, and you whined.

A wet trail followed him up your stomach. When you made no move to answer, a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Leaning closer he pressed a short but tender kiss to your lips; his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow.

“It’s too messy,” you said when he pulled back, shaking your head.

“Yeah? You’ve got a messy pussy, sweetheart?”

Joel leaned down again, pressing soft fluttering kisses down your throat. When he reached the collar of your shirt, he pulled at the fabric, exposing your collarbone to his kisses. Your hands found his hair, tethering you to the moment.

“Yes,” you whispered, heat burning your cheeks at the confession he pulled from you.

With a wide grin, Joel sat up. His fingers found the hem of your shirt. He helped you pull it over your head, exposing your naked chest to him. Not even a second later he was back to kissing his way down your body, worshiping you with every press. You burned under him, every kiss like a small death.

Shifting on the bed, he settled between your legs. His mustache tickled the skin on your tummy, making you giggle. You felt Joel’s smile against your skin, at the sound of your fluttering laugh. He let his lips brush over your skin, trailing downwards to the top of your panties where he pressed a kiss, teeth pulling at the small bow like you were a present to be unwrapped, before his fingers hooked around the elastic. With a lift of your hips, you let him pull off your panties. The wet spot in the center clung to your cunt, as he peeled them off.

“Fuck,” he cursed, “wanna taste you, baby, wanna taste that messy pussy.”

With his fingers back on your cunt, you jumped a little under his touch. The air filled with a slick sound of your arousal as he ran them through your folds, a finger teasing your entrance.

“Relax for me baby,” he soothed, gently pressing kisses to the soft skin of your inner thigh, “I’ll take care of you.”

Looking down at him between your legs, you let yourself go. His eyes bored into yours. Warmth and lust, and nothing but affection behind them.

You nodded, “Please.”

A wide grin blossomed across Joel’s face as he leaned down, hovering just above your clit. He ducked forward, pressing the softest kiss to your clit, taking it slow and easing you into it with slow licks. You couldn’t help the whimpers escaping you, a needy sound desperate for more – more Joel. He pinned you down with his arm splayed over your tummy, keeping you right where he wanted you, turning you into a withering moaning mess under him.

Joel continued exploring you with his tongue. Changing between flicking and lapping at your clit, circling it just right, and wrapping his lips around it, giving it gentle sucks. He lapped at your folds, the hook of his nose catching on your clit as he tasted you properly. You felt yourself pushed closer and closer towards the edge, coxed by Joel.

Two careful fingers spread you apart, gliding up and down, coated in your arousal. He easily found your entrance to push a finger carefully inside. You felt yourself clench down on him; you couldn’t help it. You were so sensitive and so close. Dropping your mouth open, a breathy moan escaped.

“Oh, fuck,”

Joel hummed against your pussy, the vibrations traveling straight to the coil tightening in your tummy. Slowly, he started thrusting his finger inside, rewarded by a slick sound, telling him just how wet and desperate you were for him. With a moan your head rolled back into the pillow – you were so close.

“Joel,” you panted.

His tongue continued his assault on your clit, and you lost yourself in him. You clamped down on his finger with every thrust. You didn’t know how much longer you could take it. Joel was so focused on you, so attentive, so responsive. Between your legs he drank in every twist of pleasure and whimpering moan.

“Joel,” you panted again.

“You’re gonna come for me aren’t you, sweetheart? Be a good girl and make a mess on my face.” he coaxed.

Joel quickly withdrew his finger to slip in another, and the new stretch had your legs shaking. His tongue circled your clit, sucking it with just the right amount of pressure. Underneath him you squirmed, breathy moans hitching in your throat.

“Oh, god,”

You couldn’t answer him. Couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t take it anymore.

With a silent cry, you came. His strong arm over your tummy held you down, as you twitched against the mattress, legs shaking. You’d never felt anything like this before. A pleasure so all-consuming you couldn’t remember your name, or where you were – only Joel. He helped you through it. His fingers kept up their pace, pads brushing right up against that spot of bliss, as you clenched down hard around them. You gripped the sheets, desperate for a lifeline as you came down.

Joel slowed down his fingers, pressing soft kisses to your clit. Your pleasure turning to overstimulation – now you definitely couldn’t take it anymore. Fragile and sensitive, you pushed him away with a shaky hand.

He let you push him around, his lips finding the inside of your thighs instead, where his mustache teased the sensitive skin. With one last kiss, Joel pulled away. You almost didn’t register the dip in the mattress as he laid down beside you. You were somewhere else entirely, floating away on a post-orgasm-cloud.

“Joel, shit, I…” you tried to speak, your voice hoarse with exhaustion.

“I know, sweetheart,” Joel answered. He pulled you closer, wrapping a hand around you. Slowly, you turned to your side, engulfed in Joel’s embrace.

“D-did you want to–”

You could feel the presence of his hard clothed cock pressed against your ass, but his big safe arms around you told you a different story. He nosed at the back of your neck, pressing fluttering kisses to the skin, making goosebumps erupt.

“No, darlin’, not tonight,” his voice was just above a whisper, the bass vibrating against your ear.

“Are you sure­? I-I mean– we can if you want to,” you spluttered. He’d just given you the best orgasm in your life, he shouldn’t have to go to bed without one for himself.

“Not tonight,” he said, pressing a kiss behind your ear, “It’s been a long day– I’m tired, you’re tired­… let’s just sleep, my sweet girl.”

“S-should we talk about this?” you asked, your hand slipping into his, pressing it against your naked chest.

“In the mornin’,” he hummed, voice coated in sleep.

With heavy eyelids, you fell asleep in Joel’s arms. The safety of being wrapped up in him, lulled you into a peaceful slumber. The motel bed was hard and uncomfortable, and the pillow thin and flimsy, but it didn’t matter in Joel’s arms.

Morning came too quickly, and with a screeching sound of an alarm clock that pulled you from heaven. Jolting awake behind you, Joel groaned. His hands slipped from your body; the warmth exchanged with prickling goosebumps. You shifted over on your back, watching as Joel turned off the alarm. The beeping stopped, and with a tired grunt Joel laid down back beside you. When he looked at you – his tired eyes glinting – a sleepy smile pulled at his lips.

“Mornin’,”

“Good morning, Joel” you smiled back.

“It is a good mornin’, isn’t it?” he hummed, turning on his side.

You mirrored him, shifting closer and resting your head on his pillow. He snaked a hand over the dip in your waist, big hand splaying over your naked back.

“It is,” you agreed, locking eyes with him.

Rubbing in slow circles, his hand on your back was soothing. You reveled in it, reveled in Joel, in the bliss of being so close to him. You shifted even closer, resting your forehead to his chest.

“You should probably fire me,” you mumbled into his skin, “I’ve been extremely unprofessional.”

A chuckle came from deep inside Joel, it vibrated through his skin, where you felt it under your fingertips.

“I ain’t firin’ my best employee,” he laughed, placing a dry kiss to the top of your head.

You pulled away with a frown, head back on your own pillow. “This is like the cliché of clichés, Joel– sleeping with your assistant…”

In the bright light of the day, you cursed yourself for your late-night moment of weakness. You’ve never done anything like this before. What if this will be all that Joel wants from you from now on? You don’t think your heart could take it if it was.

Joel’s laugh died in his throat, his eyebrows meeting in a frown. “Who said anything about sleepin’ with my assistant?”

Your eyes widened with mortification. Shit. A hand came up to rub at your face, as you sat up, pulling the sheets around you.

“Hey, no, sweetheart,” Joel grabbed at your hand, stopping you in your tracks.

You couldn’t look at him – afraid tears would push behind your eyes. He’s a pornstar, what were you thinking? You were just a girl. A girl to warm his bed for a night. How could you put your job on the line for something like this?

The sheets rustled as he shifted closer, “Please, lay down, I need to talk to you.”

“Joel, I-I’m sorry– w-we can just forget about it– I’ll quit, don’t worry about it– me, don’t worry about me,” you stuttered out, your back still turned.

“I ain’t forgettin’ about nothin’, sweetheart– shit, d’you think I do this often?”

His question made you turn around. He was propped up on his elbow, carefully watching you.

You nodded, and he sighed.

“It’s been years since I’ve slept with someone outside of work,” he confessed, “Shit, I don’t even seek it out, I ain’t interested in it.”

“I-I’m sorry Joel, I­–” you started, but he cut you off,

 “You’re not listenin’,” he shook his head, “what I’m sayin’ is: I wanna sleep with you.”

Your face scrunched up in a confused frown, “Because I’m someone from work?”

Joel let out a breathless chuckle, “No, sweetheart, ‘s because I think you’re beautiful.”

His words almost didn’t register.

“What?”

This time his laugh is loud and golden, coated in happiness. He pulled at your hand, and you fell, your back hitting the sheets.

“You are…” he emphasized, cupping your cheek, and guiding you back in his embrace. “And you’re a shy little thing, aren’t you? But so smart, and kind, and caring­– someone you can’t help but fall in love with.”

“Fall in love with?” you repeated, you couldn’t believe what he was telling you.

“Yeah, sweet girl,” he smiled at you, all teeth, and crinkles around his eyes in the morning light.

“Oh,”

“Yeah,” he laughed, guiding your face closer to his, his lips brushing over yours, “wanna make you mine, sweetheart.”

His kiss stole your breath and twisted you up inside. He licked at the seam, and you opened yourself to him. He licked into your mouth, one arm snaked around your body, drawing you closer, pulling whine after desperate whine from you and stealing your breath.

Landing on your hip, his hand traveled downwards – over the thick of your thigh, and down the inside in smooth motions. He tugged on your leg, pulling it to rest over his hip, his hard cock rutting into your bare heat. His kiss got more desperate; his tongue melded with yours. It was hot, and dizzying and all-consuming all at the same time.

You grinded against him, feeling his hard cock against you. The fabric of his underwear caught on your clit, rubbing it just right, your arousal darkening the fabric. You moaned into his mouth, a desperate need for Joel building deep in your stomach.

With a rut of his hips, he broke away from your kiss. “You want me to fill up this perfect little pussy, don’t you baby?” His hand on your cheek disappeared between your bodies.

“Yes,” you tried to say, but the words got stuck in your throat when you felt the head of Joel’s cock rub up and down your folds. Your heavy breathing, the slick sound of your arousal the only sound in the room.

“Listen’ baby, y’hear how wet you are for me?” he whispered in awe, the head of his cock caught on your clit. You braced yourself with a hand to his shoulder, breathy pants the only sounds leaving your lips.

“You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” he chuckled. He let go of the grip around his cock, the sound of it slapping against his stomach obscene. A beat later he swiped his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal before drawing tight circles to your clit.

Your face squeezed shut in pleasure, your fingers dug into his shoulder. He eased a finger inside, before he quickly pulled out and added another. The stretch of his fingers was easy, your arousal dripping over his knuckles as he thrusted them inside with ease.

You grinded down on his hand, meeting his thrusts, forcing his fingers deeper inside. Always so attentive, Joel curled his fingers where they hit your spot perfectly, just like he’d done last night. A breathy squeal fell from your lips.

“That’s it, sweetheart, let me hear you,” he egged you on.

“Joel, please,” you panted. Sparks traveled through your body, collecting in a pit in your stomach where it coiled in on itself, aching for release.

He curled his fingers again, and hit your spot – his palm snug against your throbbing clit, “Fuckin’ perfect you are, darlin’, so tight and wet around my fingers.”

“Shit,”

He pushed you straight for the edge, your walls fluttered around his fingers. Your panting got heavier, your eyes squeezed shut, you’re so close. Joel chuckled, his breath puffing your face and he… pulled away.

You whined at the emptiness, opening your eyes to see him staring at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

He cupped your jaw, “Poor baby,” he pouted before he pulled you in for a kiss. You sighed into him, desperate to feel him anyway he wanted.

“Turn around,” he ordered against your lips, his hand letting go of your jaw to tap at the top of your hip.

You did as he told you, turning around in his hold to press your ass against him, feeling his hard cock pressed against you. Behind you, you heard him let out a deep and guttural groan. His hand hooked under your thigh, lifting it to your chest and exposing your wet and desperate cunt for him. You let him manhandle you into the position he wants, trusting him to know what’ll feel the best.

He guided the tip of his cock through your soaked folds coating it in your arousal before grazing it over your throbbing clit.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he whispered in your ear, like a hiss. He lined himself up with your entrance, teasing you, and himself.

“I-I need it, Joel, please,” you begged, a hand clinging to the sheets.

“Yeah? You need it, sweetheart? Need this big cock to fill you up?” he asked, pushing just the tip inside.

“Joel, please, please,” you whimpered, almost a squeak. In one fluid motion he pushed inside, burying himself to the hilt inside you. The stretch of him was overwhelming, but the angle had you seeing stars.

“Ah– fuck,” you cried, your eyes immediately squeezing shut. Your hand searched for his where it held your leg to your chest. You needed to anchor yourself to him, afraid you’d fall apart right there and then.

“You alright sweetheart?” you heard him whisper in your ear, and you nodded slightly, “Feel good?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whimpered, mouth dipping open in pleasure. 

Behind you he groaned into your ear, cursing in hushed whispers. “That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, takin’ all that cock inside,” he pulled out nearly all the way, taking his time with it, moving with practiced motions.

“Shit,” you mewled as he bottomed out inside for the second time. Grinding against your ass, he pushed himself as deep as he possible could – you felt him in your fucking stomach, he was so deep.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” he told you, pulling out and thrusting back inside.

Picking up the pace, Joel started fucking into you deep and hard. With each grind of his hips against your ass, with every thrust, he made sure to bury his thick cock as deep inside as he could, angling his cock expertly so the head rubbed up against your spot. Behind you he grunted and moaned in your ear. It was sweaty and hot, and sticky between your legs.

He let go of your leg, ordering you to press it to your chest, as his hand traveled downwards to brush his fingers over your throbbing clit.

“Joel,” you mewled. He pulled a symphony of whimpers and moans from you with every thrust.

“This pussy’s so fuckin’ tight– shit,” he panted in your ear, “You’re so good for me baby, takin’ that cock so well.”

His fingers pressed down on your clit, drawing tight circles, pushing you towards the edge of bliss. You squirmed against him, hips meeting his with every thrust as you start to chase your fast approaching orgasm.

“Need you to come for me, sweetheart– squeeze that cock like a good girl.”

“Joel,” you cried and let go. Your walls fluttered around his cock as you came, back arching off his chest, as your body squirmed and shook in his arms. Breathy gasps and pathetic whimpers left your lips as he kept up his unrelenting pace, fucking you through it, and prolonging your high.

You were far away. Blissed and fucked out as you came down from your moment of ecstasy. Behind you Joel’s grunts bordered on desperate, as his thrusts started to become sloppy.

“Shit, sweetheart– m’close, so fuckin’ close.”

“Come for me Joel,” you pleaded.

“Fuck,” he grunted as he pulled out.

His hand was on you in an instance, pushing you to your stomach as he turned you around. He knelt over you, fisting his cock desperately. Turning your head, you pushed off the bed to look over your shoulder where you found his eyes, locking them with his. Joel came with a guttural moan, the muscles in his stomach tightening and loosening as he coated your ass in his cum. It was hot and sticky on your back, feeling it drip slowly down the side of your waist.  

“God damn,” he breathed out through a chuckle. His breath was heavy, like he’d just climbed ten stories.

You turned to your side to look up at him properly. He looked beautiful; his hair messy from sleep, broad chest heaving, a content smile pulling at his lips as you gave him a smile.

“Took the words straight out of my mouth.”

i hope you liked this! part two -> here

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #dom!joel miller #the last of us smut #tlou smut #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #inexperienced!reader #70s AU

[mntalbrakdown]

sober thoughts - C. Fisher

masterlist!

mentions of: underage drinking, cussing, fluff, smut. MDNI. piv, unprotected sex, fingering

synopsis: you were once friends with conrad until summer happened and he just stopped talking to you

wc: 5.7k

“don’t ever forget me” your little twelve-year-old self whispered to Conrad who was a year older than you

“never,” he said playing with your hair as you both lay on the grass watching the fireworks on the fourth of July. your head laying on his chest.

“y/n are you almost ready” Belly yelled at you trying to get you to hurry up for the party you were about to go to with her and Taylor

“yes almost,” you say playing with your hair and making sure each strand is not misbehaving

“chill belly being hot takes time,” Taylor says applying more lip gloss

“anyways y/n how are you and Conrad” Taylor puts away her lip gloss in her purse

“he’s an ass and I don’t even talk to him,” you said

“What did you even do,” Belly asked playing with the ends of her hair

“I don’t know we were really close in Cousins and like two years ago in summer I started to get guys' attention and all of a sudden he got distant,” you said reminiscing the best summer of your whole life you told the girls you pulled 6 boys the whole summer but that came at a cost, losing the one guy you loved

“you had a glow-up,” Taylor says looking at you and holding your hand

“yeah, she did” you see Jeremiah at Belly’s door frame which made you smile. they've been flirting back and forth

“are we ready,” Belly asked and you nodded

you all headed downstairs to see Susannah and Laurel in the kitchen probably stoned and said goodbye to them. when you arrived at the car Belly called shotgun which meant you and Taylor would sit in the back of Jeremiah’s Jeep.

“so y/n you're the driver tonight right” Jeremiah looked at you from the rearview mirror

“when am I not” you scoff looking out the window. it wasn’t a rude remark it was a sarcastic one because you don’t really do any substances. so it was common sense that you would drive

everyone in Cousins lived close to one another so it didn’t take long to hear the loud music and the screams coming from a house. the house was already spilling bright colors on the street making you excited. when Jeremiah finally parked he handed you the keys because one time he held onto them and lost them. it was a whole ordeal, you spent an extra hour at the house trying to find them when he had them in a random coat that was hung up by the front door.

“hey Steven is here” Taylor pointed out to his car seeing that they also just got here.

“who’s that next to him,” Belly asks as you were getting out of the car looking at your phone for any new notifications when you accidentally bump into a tall stature

“oh sorry,” you both say looking at each other

"con what is wrong with you" you yelled at him. it was no use when he was in his own world he stayed there for at least a week. usually, you could get him out, but something was different that summer, you couldn't change him

"leave me alone" Conrad yelled at you, he was running up the stairs and the next thing you heard was his door closed shut. it was hard to miss, it echoed all over the house

"I'm so sorry for him," Susannah said.

the plan that day was to go watch a movie that was playing in the drive-in and then play at the beach with the whole group and watch the tide as you and Conrad listened to the music and possibly help you surf. but all that went down the drain and you didn't even know why.

“conrad” you say looking to meet his gaze.

“Conrad is here, y/n let’s go, no,” Taylor says screaming ready for you to get into the car making him laugh which you missed hearing

“Taylor it’s ok,” you say as she is getting out of the car with a stank face already plastered on

“hi Conrad,” she says moving her way in between the two of you and grabbing your hand to drag you to the party

as you were getting dragged into the party you were greeted by a group of people already by the door and a couple making out at the end of the hall

“hey I'm going to go get a drink” Taylor yells at you trying to get her voice to be heard over the music. you on the other hand were ready to go to the living room just to people watch

the thing was when you were at parties you would straight b-line to the living room because although people liked to conversate, that is the last place they would go. You liked to sit there and try to find other drivers there and you would make friends with them. It was hard to talk to a drunk person because they were boring and slur their words together. Today you saw Cameron, he is always there. You grew to like him like it was hard to anyway. He was so nice and you both had things in common.

"hey" you heard his little smile in his voice

"hi cam," you say receiving a bottle of water he got you

"so who are you here tonight with" cam asked you

"Jeremiah, Taylor, and Belly," you say

"so Conrad is still being weird," cam asked

"yeah," you said a bit disappointed. you told Cam everything because he was there and being sober at a party is pretty boring

"that's weird because he is staring at us," Cam says looking over at him; making you follow his gaze. Conrad had this weird look on his face, his eyes were dark, but it wasn't because of the lighting it was something else. hatred? you brushed it off he isn't your problem, never will be.

"y/n want to play uno" Conrad yelled at you from the bottom of the stairs.

Uno was your favorite game to play at Susannah's house in the summer. It was always perfect. The adults were never there so it would make you feel comfortable with everyone else. It was when you would sit next to Conrad before he was unavailable and you two would team up without everyone knowing. In reality, everyone knew. and you both would win. you would take turns on who would win to make it seem "less" suspicious.

"so" cam says snapping you from your haze

"right duh" you laugh grabbing the mini uno you would always carry it around because it helped you make friends with people

"ooo can we play" Some random girls joined in and you said yes because you had no real reason to say no, plus uno is best played with more than two

"I'll join too," Conrad says gripping his beer rather firmly. he sat next to you on the couch ready to get the cards you shuffled.

when the games began you kept beating everyone. the games were simple, leave the best cards until the very end, unless and only if you ever need them, then go for it.

bzzz bzzz

you quickly checked the notification that came from your phone trying to not miss what was going on in the game.

"who is it" conrad asks his jaw clenching

"no one," you say giving him a weak smile, it was also none of his business because he doesn't care about you anymore

"sure" Conrad says putting a plus four that is directed towards you. so this is how he wanted to play the game? you grabbed the four cards, getting nothing that would help you against him. it was Cam's turn and he put reverse to try to protect you from Conrad

"your little boyfriend is now your new buddy," Conrad questioned under his breath

"not like you give a shit" you retort back

"you are so clueless," Conrad says making you the most confused person at the party. you just continued to play after the game ended you decided you wanted a coke. so you got up and told Cam you would be back for another round

you walked through crowded groups and at one point you saw Belly makeout with Jeremiah. taking note of that to bring up later. You than saw Taylor with another man who looked like three years older than her. When you finally got your coke you opened it taking a sip going back to the couch

"oh fuck" you let out spilling some of the coke onto your white tube top.

"sorry" you hear a familiar voice come out it was Conrad.

"we have to stop doing this or else we might actually get hurt," you say smiling at the way Conrad was trying to get napkins to clean the mess up. It was no use. your shirt was ruined.

"it's the universe trying to get us together" Conrad blurted out "I'm drunk" he tried to fix the situation, but he was never drunk, he was only ever tipsy.

"drunk words are just sober thoughts" you say looking down at your shorts to see if they were dirty.

"can we talk" conrad asks looking down at you

"yeah" you smile at him

he grabbed your hand and led you outside to the front yard where there were only a couple of people out. he saw that the stain on your shirt only got worse so he gave you his button-up shirt that he never lets go of.

"what's up," you say to him

"the stars look beautiful don't they" conrad was looking up

as a kid, you were obsessed with the moon and the stars. you had a friend that was the stars to your moon. you missed her, and you kept in touch but if you could you would bring her to Cousins. you would always talk about her to the others, knowing they would love her as well. You also face-timed her all the time. Conrad would get mad, saying that you were his for the summer and that she has you all year round. that she was selfish

"it's my time," Conrad says to your friend who was on your phone screen

"con give me my phone," you say slapping him and tugging at his hand

"it's summer byeee" he says as he pressed the red button on the phone

"i hate you," you say to him

"in your sweet dreams you do," he says cockily

"Conrad I thought this was going to be more of a serious conversation," you say trying to shake the idea of the summers you once had with the man standing in front of you

"I miss you," he says to you. sober thoughts. it took you aback it wasn't something you expected from him

"that isn't my fault," you say back with an attitude

"i know, i just got jealous" he said to you

"jealous of what con" he could have grabbed you and kissed you on the spot. he missed that name from your mouth. he craved it every day to the point he would replay voice memos you would send to him back when you two would speak

"of other guys," he said looking into your eyes to see if he scared you off, but all he saw was your face brightening up

"you were the only person on my mind con," you said to him grabbing his hand. if this was a dream, never wake him up. "you were the only thing coming out of my mouth when I was at school, all the guys that you saw hit me up are left on seen, I wanted you, I want you, I always have" you say looking at his face finally tug at his lips to form a smile

"good because I don't want to share," he says leaning down ready to kiss you. As he did he wrapped one arm around your waist the other in your hair tugging at it as you were smiling through the kiss and your hands on both his cheeks.

"get a room" Steven yelled at you two, leading Conrad to release the hand that was in your hair and flipping him off. making you laugh while you both kissed.

"let's get out of here," Conrad said to you

"i can't," you said, you had a job

"fuck the others Steven can drive them," he said in a way that he just wanted you to be by his side

"but how will they get home" you try to reason

"Steven has his keys c'mon let's go to my house, please" he kisses the top of your forehead.

"fine, but if they complain that is your fault," you say pointing at him

"that is fine by me," he says carrying you to spin you around

as you two were getting in the Jeep you started to fasten your seatbelt as Conrad did the same. He looked over at you, seeing how you adjusted the mirrors to get all the angles.

"I think this is the first time I see you drive," he says admiring you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear

"get used to it con," you say looking at him, melting at his touch

"Oh I will" he whispered

you started the car, you hated driving the Jeep it was so big and excessive. But desperate times call for desperate measures. You played some music in the car for the six-minute car ride. you could feel Conrad's eyes on you the whole time, seeing how you turned and how you checked the mirrors.

as you arrive at their house you park the car and let him get out, you were collecting your things in the car to get out when Conrad opens the door for you.

"thank you" you smile, he closes the door behind you and you lock the car. he holds your hand as he heads over to the front door to open it

"hi conrad" you hear Susannah

"hi y/n nice seeing you two together again," Laurel says from the couch

"glad to be back" you smile at the two adults

"oh you are so beautiful, we missed you," Susannah said

"thank you I missed you too" you smile and let go of Conrad's hand to hug her. She was always so sweet to you

"Mom, she's mine back off, we're going to my room" Conrad says taking your hand again

"bye talk to you guys later" you scream as Conrad is dragging you upstairs

once you got upstairs you see Conrad's door. he opened it with his free hand and led you in. It was still the same. the beach aesthetic and the colors. He had the plush you gave him. it was an orange cat with a pink collar, you named it Lasnaga and you had an orange cat with a blue collar named Garfield. it was funnier when you actually named them.

"oh ignore that" he said looking at the cat

"you still have it" you question, a smile forming on your face

"yeah" it looked like he slept with it and he even still had the perfume you gifted him it was now half empty

"I miss you" you heard from the other line of your phone

"I miss you too," you say back, it was almost Christmas and it was a time when you wished you could go to Cousins, but your mom would say no. "I got you a Christmas present," you say smiling through the camera lens

"yeah, I got it, thank you" One of the gifts was a perfume bottle, it smelled like vanilla and it was your go-to scent "Thank you" Conrad says

"I don't use that scent anymore," you say picking it up

"what" Conrad looked defeated, he was spraying that scent to remember you and you switched scents. he felt betrayed

"I'll get you a new one for Christmas" You smile at him grabbing his hands which made his smile come back

"y/n" he grabbed your attention using his pointer finger to make you look at him

"yes con" one moment you were just staring at his eyes the next thing you knew Conrad was leaning in to kiss you. this kiss was more meaningful as if to pick up from lost time, from the time that was wasted on jealousy and insecurity, because even though it wasn't official that you were Conrad's, you both knew you were meant for one another

Conrad's hands went back to their respective place, one in your hair and the other around your waist. yours were on his cheek and the other in his hair.

"fuck I missed you," he says catching his breath from the kiss

conrad went back but deepened the kiss, it was something that made you happy. You kept smiling through the kiss. you couldn't believe this was happening. Conrad pulled at your hair to make you moan so he could slip his tongue in and fight for dominance, he obviously won; you were still smiling throughout the make out because you couldn’t believe what was happening. Conrad guided you to his bed, he sat on the corner making you straddle his lap.

"are you ok with this," Conrad asked pulling away from the kiss, you could see some of your lipstick on his mouth

"yes, god fuck yes Conrad," you say giggling at the way his face quickly erased his worriedness to pure excitement

Conrad continued his attack, but this time it was on your neck, making sure it would show to others that you were his, that even though people haven't seen you both together for almost two years, you guys are better than ever. Conrad tugged and took off the button-down that he gave you and the dirty tube top. You weren't wearing a bra underneath, and Conrad couldn't be more excited

Conrad carried you off the bed for a second and laid you down on his bed. your hair was perfectly sprawled on the pillow as if it made a halo. Conrad could’ve sworn he saw a little heart that was made from your hair. as you waited for Conrad to take his shirt you got the cat to play around with.

"you're so beautiful," Conrad says going down to kiss you

when he pulls away he takes off your shorts and shoes followed by your socks making you giggle at his fast antics. you were wearing a lace thong that was pink making Conrad smile.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours,” you say reaching for Conrad's face as he melts into your touch, practically purring.

"you, you're all I think about" Conrad says smiling at you his hand traveling down to your thighs removing your panties too, and then he feels how wet you already are. he licked his two fingers as a lubricant and started to finger you. he slipped two fingers in seeing how tight you were and kept pacing in and out. you followed his fingers as they disappeared and reappeared. sucking on your bottom lip to not draw attention to his room. he looked at your face seeing how it contoured to the way the rhythm, then added more stimulation by massaging your clit.

"fuck Conrad, so good," you say almost screaming as you scratch his back with your nails

"shhh, look at me" Conrad says covering your mouth, but he loved the way your eyes looked at him "Sound so pretty but they can't hear you or the fun is over," he says leaning in to kiss you to muffle your screams.

Conrad soon leaves your mouth to go to your tits to suck on as you grab his hair for extra support. you tugged once and heard a yelp, making you want to fuck him already

he continued with his action. adding fingers as he goes. As he did you gasped, you kept your nails on his back almost drawing blood. conrad was circling your clit with his other hand to speed the process up. he needed you.

“god you’re so tight” he says looking at you with lust filled eyes

Conrad added a third finger as he saw you were about to release and reattached his lips onto yours wanting the fun to continue. he saw the way your body arched off the bed and made sure to continue the pace you were on. to make you orgasm

“look so pretty, come for me” he said spurring you on

“fuck conny” you say pulling at his hair to kiss you and something inside you snapped when he kissed you. you were leaking off his finger. when he looked down in between the two of you he saw the mess grabbing some of your liquid and putting it in your mouth

“fuck so hot” he said going in to kiss you tasting you as well

“my turn” you say with your fucked up makeup and some of your cum on the side of your mouth

“no i just really need you right now” conrad says taking his pants and underwear off as well as everything else.

“i want to be on top” you say to him biting the bottom of your lip

“whatever you want pretty girl” he says grabbing you and putting you on top of him

once you were on top of him you saw how big he was. you grabbed his member massaged him than started to glide him into your heat seeing how he threw his head back in pure pleasure

“stop teasing” he said grabbing onto your wrists and leading his length to your heat

“fuck fisher” you said mad he took all the fun out

“i’m trying to” he retorted making you laugh but that made you sink into him and turned into a loud pornagraphic moan making Conrad startled soon hearing footsteps leading to the door and a knock

“conny is everything ok” you could hear Susannah but this made the experience even better you fucked him up and down side to side to try to make it hard for him to answer his mom

“y-yeah everything is good there’s a porn scene on the horror movie we were watching- fuck” he said yelling to his mom

“oh ok” she says retreating backstairs

“you’re so dead” conrad said to you, but he never meant it. you looked so beautiful riding him as your boobs bounced up and down and saw how your hair was messily parted to the side and fell beautifully over your body. he knew you knew you looked great by the way you bit the bottom of your lip

“god you’re so big” you say looking down at him. putting your hand on his chest for extra support

he couldn’t help admire you. how your tits would go up and down and he had to massage them with his hand. the other was on your waist wanting you to go faster, but he just made your body lay against his as he took your lips with his teeth. his hand that was once on your tits went to your hair and tugged on it earning a low moan from you. the other traced his name on your back adding tickles to make you moan and hopefully come close. once he noticed your body become sloppy he held onto your waist and switched positions with him

“holy fuck that was hot” you said out loud to him

“only for you” he says leaning into your neck to suck on your sweet spot making you moan even more

he saw the way your hair fell back on his pillow. the image he once had of you will forever be tainted by this memory. the memory of him fucking you into oblivion. how his penis would go in and out of you seeing his length covered in white paint from the two of you

he didn’t know that you liked the way his hair fell from his forehead and floated in the air as he fucked you. how his arms would be veiny and how you followed them like a dog to bacon. that every time he wanted to show you something you just looked at his hands.

“fuck me harder” you said to Conrad as you dragged his face to yours to go in for a kiss. he took his free hand and started to massage your clit wanting you to come already.

“come for me again, want to see you come on my dick” he said so close to your face that his hair tickled you, his breath as well. “need you to come for me” his blue eyes following yours and how they were sparkling from pure euphoria

with one last thrust you came for him. his lips covering your mouth and when you were done moaning. his mouth was on your chin ready for another hickey. he nibbled at it. when his thrusts started to become sloppy you started to nibble at his ear. moaning in it to spur him on and saying sweet nothings like “god you’re so big” “taking me so good” “fuck me just like that”

“im yours conny, only yours” was the one that made him shoot his load into you

“oh fuck i’m so sorry” he said as he still kept thrusting into you coming down from his high

“don’t worry about it i’m on the pill” you say looking at his fucked out face and tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear

he leaned in to kiss you deepening the kiss he felt the cum that was leaking outside the two of you. when he was ready to let go you bit the bottom of his lip to see what he would do

“god you’re all i need” Conrad said going back to kiss you. when you both got out of breathe he went into his bathroom to get a cloth to clean you up

“you look beautiful from this angle” Conrad looked at you wanting to take a picture of the way your legs were open for him as the liquid oozed out of you

“get used to it” you said to him as he cleaned you up. he smiled at the thought that this wasn’t a one time thing

“oh i will” he says going to your face and peppering your face with kisses all over

he went over to a drawer he had always designated to you. it had some clothes that you left there when you would stay over. he handed you some shorts you always wore when you were here that did nothing but show your ass, but they were cute; they were white with pink polka dots and tossed you a shirt that was Conrad’s but you always used to use it because it was baggy and had your home state with it.

“i don’t want to wear that shirt today” you said

“what why” Conrad asked puzzled he didn’t do anything to that shirt

“you wear it, not in the mood to wear a shirt” you say to him mischievously. he took the hint as he was putting on some shorts and was ready to go under the covers of his bed making you follow behind

“than neither am i” he said kissing your forehead “some makeup wipes are on the nightstand by the way” he says pointing at the drawer next to you

“thank you” you say taking one and wiping your face off when you were done you threw it away in the trash can that was next to you

“so you never forgot me did you” you asked as you were going to cuddle his chest

“no never” he said looking down at you as he was turning the tv on to watch superbad one of your favorites

“and you never forgot about my things did you” you say giddily seeing what he was doing

“nope, i watched this every time i missed you” he said it as a matter of fact

“kiss me” you say out loud. and he did he leaned down to kiss you as you waited for the movie to load in. he was so delicate this time as if what he did was not him and someone else. that he would always be delicate with you

“you’re all i ever wanted” he said whispering it into you making you smile as the movie played.

you both laughed at the scenes. this movie has seen it all: your childhood, Conrad being by himself without you , and the two of you after you fucked each other. when another funny scene happened and you didn’t laugh Conrad looked down to see you asleep in his arms. your boobs were pressed against his chest and he decided it was time for him to go to sleep as well.

in the morning it was Conrad who woke up first from the rays of the sun. he then saw his clock and saw that it was only 9 am. he decided to just look at you sleep. how you would breathe and how you looked in his arms. the little smile on your face as your dream progressed. god he wished that was him making you smile. Conrad reached for his phone to take a picture of you. knowing this would be a perfect wallpaper. the way the hickeys he left on you were now visible. how you had no makeup but your hair was still as perfect as it was last night and this time noticing the locket necklace he got you from when you were kids on your thirteenth birthday

“thank you Conrad” you say hugging him once you finished opening the box that held the necklace. it was a picture of the two of you from when you were younger when you were both about seven and six.

“you’re welcome. you were practically begging for one all year” he said glad you liked his gift and ever since than you never took it off

he was infatuated with you.

“i’ll never forget you” Conrad whispered into your hair kissing the top of your head

“hey” you say in a raspy voice

“morning” he said back with a big grin on his face

“smells good” you could smell the muffins from downstairs. making Conrad laugh. he looked at you for about thirty minutes admiring you and the first thing you think about is food? “you look pretty con” you said kissing his lips. his hair was messy and his eyes were brighter today. he looked happy.

“so do you” he said smiling at you. if only you knew.

“what time is it” you ask finally rubbing your eyes. when you were done Conrad gave you his phone to look at the clock but the first thing you saw was you. the photo he took this morning. “con did you take this right now” you asked looking into his eyes

“yes do you like it” he asked looking to see if you were mad but he only saw a smile form on your face

“it’s cute i need one now too” you say trying to let go of his grip to get up and get a muffin

“no stay” he says grumpy

“i need one of those muffins, i’ll come back” you say prying at his hands

“fine i’ll race you” he says getting up and trying to find a shirt as you do the same when you did. you ran out the door fighting Conrad downstairs almost falling like ten times.

“woah” you here from downstairs

“i thought we were going to go into war right now” Jeremiah joked

“shut up” Conrad said hitting Jeremiah’s chest

“oh hey y/n didn’t know you were still here” Laurel said

“yeah I accidentally fell asleep to superbad” you say which wasn’t a lie. it was hard to lie to Laurel she could smell bullshit from a mile away.

“wait what happened between you guys” Taylor asked looking at your neck making you hide your hickeys with your hair

“nothing, we just made up” you said looking at her and the last muffin

“more like made out” Belly added which made you send her a death stare which caused you to lose the muffin to Conrad

“fuck you” you whisper to him

“oh but you already did” he said with the most shit eating grin you’ve ever seen as he eats the muffin. when you hit his stomach he hands over the muffin with a loud groan

“thank you” you say kissing him

“eww get a room” Jeremiah said

“we just came out of one” Conrad said as quick as the speed of light making you look at him with wide eyes

“I missed this” Susannah said “y’know ever since you left y/n he has never been this chipper”

“is that so” you say looking at Conrad all this time you thought he was fine especially with all the girls he dated

“so true” Steven added

“we missed you” Belly said. she meant it in the way you could finally be in the same room as all of them without having to walk on eggshells “also Cam told me to give you this” it was your uno cards from the other night

“thank you” you smile at her

“give me another bite” Conrad said as he wraps his arms around your waist and you practically feed him “thank you” he said which followed by an mhm coming from your mouth

“want to go to the beach later” you asked looking up at him to see if he would agree or not

“sure” he replied. making you already excited and smiling back at the muffin before taking a bite and feeding another piece to Conrad

“can we go at night” he questioned

“and skinny dip” you whispered for only him to hear which made him already look forward to see the moon.

“this is seriously cute” Taylor says to Belly who nods

“i love you” Conrad said to you kissing the top of your head as he saw how everyone was so welcoming of the new couple

“i love you more” you say looking up at him which made him kiss you

—-

a/n: part two..??

#conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher #belly x conrad #tsitp conrad #team conrad #jeremiah fisher #tsitp jeremiah #team jeremiah #conrad x reader #the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher fanfic #belly conklin #steven conklin #conrad fisher smut #conrad fisher x reader smut #conrad fisher x fem!reader #conrad fisher angst #conrad fisher au

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

can you do a part two to the imagine about conrad bringing his new gf to belly and jeremiah’s wedding??? i’m so curious to see what happens next lol

Request: Can we see more of conrad and his Stanford tutor girlfriend at cousins? Like him showing her around and they run into Nicole and everything. He's just so in love he doesn't notice anything or anyone but her. Maybe we see a family dinner

I had no intentions to, but after the crazy amount of demands for a part 2, I caved in…and here it is

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Conrad didn’t want to deal with everyone’s questions about you right when you got to Cousins, so you snuck out by the beach after dropping your bags in his room. He felt like he was fourteen again, sneaking out to catch the early waves. 

Neither of you had swim clothes on, so you just walked along the sandy shoreline while Conrad shared all sorts of little stories about Cousins.

‘’This is where you learned to surf?’’ you asked, gesturing toward the water.

Conrad hummed, his hand holding yours. ‘’And where I got stung by a jellyfish.’’ 

‘’A jellyfish?’’ you echoed, a touch of concern in your voice. That sounded pretty serious.

‘’Yeah. Steven kept telling Jeremiah that he had to pee on my leg so I wouldn’t need amputation and I did not want that,’’ he recounted with the same disgust as that day. ‘’Never do that, by the way. It can do more harm.’’ 

You nodded, though you doubted you would ever need that piece of information.

You walked and talked some more, until a playful glint of mischief flashed in Conrad’s eye and he turned to you, lifting you over his shoulder and taking you to the water. A squeak left your lips, caught off guard, and then you instinctively clung to his back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he threatened to drop you in the water fully clothed. 

‘’If you drop me, I swear I'll—’’

Conrad cut you off with a mischievous grin, his laughter mixing with the soothing sounds of the ocean. ‘’You’ll what?’’ His voice was filled with playful challenge, and he took a few steps deeper into the water. 

*

When you came back to the summer house, Laurel whisked you away and Conrad went looking for Jeremiah. Unfortunately, someone found him first. 

‘’I don’t want her here.’’ Belly's voice hissed, her eyes glaring at the one she used to call her’s. ‘’This is my wedding, I get to decide who attends.’’ 

Conrad knew this wouldn't be easy for her — seeing him with another girl —, but he didn't expect Belly to behave like a child. She made a choice two years ago, she made a choice weeks ago when she decided to marry Jeremiah. 

‘’If you want her to leave, I’m leaving too,’’ he replied firmly but calmly. ‘’Good luck explaining to Jeremiah why his brother and best man is not at his wedding.’’

Belly sighed, accepting the lost battle. ‘’Fine. She can stay…’’ It didn’t enchant her, but there was no way she was risking Conrad leaving. Jeremiah was so happy when he got his RSVP response. ‘’Did you bring her here just to spite me?’’ she demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.

Conrad couldn't believe her accusation. He took a deep breath, struggling to maintain his composure. ‘’Are you being serious right now? You're getting married, and you still think I came here to get you back? It’s been two years. I moved on, Belly.’’

She met Conrad's gaze with a mixture of frustration and defiance. ‘’I did too. I’m getting married.’’ Belly smiled, the ring on her finger suddenly feeling heavy. 

‘’Then why are you so bothered that I’m dating someone else?’’  

Belly opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. 

‘’How can you do this to Jeremiah?!’’ 

Conrad was exasperated. Him and Jeremiah had tough moments, but he was his little brother and he promised their mom to take care of him. And that included making sure he’s not marrying someone who doesn’t love him the way he deserves. 

‘’He's inside, helping Taylor with the center-tables while his fiancé is having a jealousy fit over her ex boyfriend’s new girlfriend. You can’t have everything, Belly. You picked Jeremiah, you made that choice—’’

‘’And you left!’’ 

‘’Because you picked Jeremiah!’’ Conrad spit back, plunging back into old feelings. ‘’There was nothing left for me here.’’ 

‘’You didn’t show up on the 4th of July. Everyone was there, but you weren’t. How can you miss Susannah’s favorite holiday?’’

‘’How can you announce your engagement on her special day?’’ 

‘’It was Jeremiah’s idea—’’ 

‘’I don’t care! I don’t care whose idea it was,'' Conrad cut. ''Just like I don’t care that you’re jealous I came here with Y/N. You always said you don’t like the attention, but it’s bullshit. You crave attention, but you’re no longer my center of attention and that’s something you have to accept.’’

*

An undeniable tension hung in the air during dinner. Everyone was sitting outside, discussing around a light meal Laurel had prepared — with your offered help. The conversation was mainly around the soon-to-be-weds, but eventually circled back to you and Conrad.  

‘’So, Connie, how long have you been hiding her from us?’’ Laurel asked, a light teasing tone in her voice. 

The attention shifted to you and Conrad, who immediately felt uncomfortable. Unlike some people around the table, he didn’t like being the center of attention. ‘’I haven’t been hiding her,’’ he defended, shaking his head, trying to downplay the situation. 

‘’Then why did you miss the last Christmas?’’ Steven questioned, giving Conrad a knowing smile. 

Conrad glared at him, cursing his big mouth. ‘’Med school is hard, Steven. And Y/N is tutoring outside her classes, so she can’t just leave whenever she decides.’’

‘’What about the skiing pictures I saw? I doubt there’s skiing resorts in Palo Alto.’’ 

‘’It was a last minute thing,’’ you explained, helping Conrad against Steven. ‘’My parents rented a cabin and invited us for a few days. We would have loved to come to Boston for Christmas if we had time.’’

It wasn’t the full truth, but Conrad was grateful for your quick lie. You did go on a ski trip with your parents during winter break, but Conrad had no intention of coming to Boston for the holidays. He didn’t want to spend Christmas at home without his mom. 

‘’Well, I'm glad you both could make it for the wedding,’’ Jeremiah said, smiling warmly at you and Conrad, his gaze lingering on his older brother for a moment. ‘’It means a lot to me — to us. Right Bells?’’ He glanced at his fiancé, who was visibly unhappy about your presence.

She had made no effort to engage conversation with you — nor Conrad — during the whole dinner.  Even her friend Taylor had been whispering in your back with Belly. It was such an unclassy teenager behavior. You personally didn’t care.You weren’t there to make friends, you were Conrad’s guest. 

Belly forced a smile, stabbing at her food with her fork. ‘’Yeah.’’

—

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#conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher x you #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine #tsitp #tsitp imagine #this suck but I can't write anything better I'm sorry

[bonesandchalamet]

predictable - c.fisher

masterlist

requested: y- “Can you do a conrad fisher x reader where the readers family has a house next to theirs so they grew up going to cousins for the summers (cons age), and they are in love w each other but don’t want to admit it and everyone notices it around them/teases them. maybe a flash ward to their wedding in a couple of years and everyone’s speeches are like “yeah i won the bet they would be married by now” or smth like that?“

pairings: conrad fisher x fem!reader

warnings: fluff + jokes

a/n: I hope I did this justice anon! xx there are NO spoilers of book 2 or season 2!

you can hear his voice. it’s muffled, he sounds like he’s in your kitchen, a blessing of having the bedroom right above it, but you can hear him talking to your mother.

you don’t have time to think, you just fling your legs over your mattress and rush down the stairs at an appropriate pace. you’d just woke up, maybe not your best state to be in, but you couldn’t wait to see conrad fisher. the boy next door.

he’d gone to Princeton, smart cookie if you say so yourself, and you hadn’t seen him since last summer. in fact, you only saw him maybe once or twice outside of the neighborhood and that was getting ice cream and groceries. other than that, you live by the fence that separates your yards waiting to hear the laughter and conversations from the Conklin and fisher kids.

“just tomatoes? are you sure? I can go pick out some basil—“

“no, no laurel will kill you if you do any more yard work! I can get it.” you hear conrad protest. the fisher family was used to your parents generosity, the beautiful vegetable garden grew right on the fisher/y/l/n house line, the family was more than welcome to eat and take whatever they wanted, but it didn’t stop them from being kind enough to ask. Susannah raised those boys right.

“are you sure?”

“what’s going on?” you ask, it’s like the words floated out of you when you saw him. his brown hair a little longer than normal, his t-shirt a bit smaller on him, and he’s wearing small navy blue swim trunks. a sight to make any girl swoon for a fisher.

“oh, y/n, do you think you can help conrad get some more tomatoes from the vines? it seems to be the fisher-Conklin clan has run out.” your mother hands you Susannah’s woven basket that conrad was once holding. your mother looks at you with pleading eyes but she knows you’ll do anything that has conrad fisher involved.

“happy to.” you take the basket in your hand and gesture for conrad to follow. he thanks your mother once again and follows along out the back door. you can hear not only just your heartbeat, but the blood rushing to your ears.

being alone with Conrad was sometimes awkward. at least to you it always felt that way, because you never knew how to be around him as yourself. you were so deeply in love with him that just being in his presence was enough to make you fumble over your words.

“here I can get the tomatoes.” conrad pushes past you, his shoulder brushing against your body, you could smell his cologne, the salty ocean in his hair, and the mixture of the laundry detergent Susannah uses. it was an intoxicating smell, one to make your world spin.

“you sure? they are kind of all over the place.” you chuckle setting the basket down into the grass. you start picking the beautiful blush red ones and gently place them in the basket along side the ones conrad was picking. every so often your hands would brush or you’d about pick the same tomato. you both would blush and apologize instantly for the connection.

“would you guys just kiss already! you’re making me nauseous.” Jeremiah calls over the fence line from the pool, he’s watched about every embarrassing second of you and his brothers interactions.

“come on, con!” Steven hollers, it’s loud enough for the neighbors on the other side of their house to snicker at the boys energy for far too early in the morning.

“I don’t know what their problem is.” Conrad says and it’s only for you two to hear. he’s picked up the basket from the grass now, you’re stuck with holding a few more tomatoes that he claims would be more than enough for everyone.

“no seriously, just keep those ones.”

“we have enough inside, just take them—“

“fine,” he huffs out an annoyed sigh and watches you dump them into the basket, “can I at least make you breakfast with them?”

“sounds like a plan to me.”

that day, he made you more than breakfast. he made you feel the most indescribable feeling of love and excitement. he left you walking home as beat red as those tomatoes you picked. you could thank Steven and Jeremiah for their pressure and tease, because conrad fisher did in fact kiss you that morning.

—

FUTURE

“I’m so happy for these guys because today I became twenty dollars richer,” Jeremiah pauses, the laughter of friends and family make you both blush, “so thank you Steven for believing they would never get married. here’s to the bride and the groom!” Jeremiah holds his champagne glass up, others in the room follow.

“you really bet we would get married?” Conrad turns to his brother who passes the microphone to belly before sitting down beside him.

Jeremiah’s hands clap his brothers shoulder, “we also made a bet that you’d kiss her that summer. belly also made a bet that you’d have tomatoes on the menu, looks like you guys are the most predictable couple ever.”

#the summer i turned pretty #tsitp #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #conrad x reader #team conrad #tsitp conrad #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher fic #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher imagine #Conrad fisher imagines #tsitp x oc #tsitp x reader #tsitp x y/n #tsitp fic #tsitp fanfic #tsitp imagines #tsitp imagine #tsitp x you #the summer i turned pretty x reader #the summer i turned pretty fics #the summer i turned pretty fic #the summer I turned pretty fluff #tsitp s2 #tsitp season 2 #steven conklin

[tatoda]

You v’s Me || conrad fisher x fem!reader

!!MINORS DNI!!

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masterlist

summary: you’ve always been in a competition with conrad which grew both of you to hate each other…or maybe it’s love?

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT towards the end but it’s not much, fem receiving, conrad being cocky and hot duh CHARACTERS ARE 18

wc: 1.8k

susannah is not sick in this fic! hope y’all enjoy :)

Ever since you were kids, you and conrad have had competitions every summer. It’s something that was never forgotten and the person who won got bragging rights the whole year until it was summer again. The tradition started when you were 10 and conrad was 11. It started sweet when your families visited the boardwalk but soon enough conrad was the competitive side to you, and he knew he needed to beat you in any game or challenge.

You both were now 18 and 19. You were starting your first year of college and conrad was going into his second year. He bragged in your face for getting into your dream college Brown last year and now this year, you get to brag and tell him you got into pre-med early for Brown during early admissions back in november but couldn’t tell him so you had to wait to see his reaction at dinner.

Everyone saw it but you and conrad. The whole family could see the tension between the two of you guys and your competition. It was declared that conrad had a crush on you the second year you visited cousins, laurel was the first to point it out to susannah, and then the whole family knew by the end of the summer but you and conrad didn’t believe any of it. But you wouldn’t lie, you had a crush on him and were just hoping to hate him to get rid of the schoolgirl crush.

“so y/n,” susannah began “what was the big news you wanted to share with everyone?”

“oh yes.” and put your fork down “i got into Brown pre-med.” you smiled and conrad’s fork froze with his mouth open and all you did was smirk at him “actually susannah, i got in early admissions in november. i’ve just been saving the news up for this very moment.” you gave conrad a tight-lipped smile

“that’s amazing news!” she cheered “we should celebrate with a late movie tonight!”

“a-actually we were gonna head to the country club, they are playing all the avengers movies in order,” jeremiah spoke up stopping his mom from getting too excited

“of course! we can do something tomorrow night.” she gasped “oh gosh connie, that means y/n will be going to school with you!”

“yep.” he moved some food around on his plate not looking up

“don’t sound too excited connie.” you mocked and he rolled his eyes without looking up at you

“yippee, what do you want? a golden star?” he huffed and pushed out his chair before leaving the table

“y/n it’s the first night, lay low.” laurel said from her spot at the table

“you know whoever gets the first point basically wins the summer, it’s guaranteed.”

“you and you’re little competition,” she muttered

After dinner, it was time to head to the country club for the movie. It was only a few people who got invited to the place so you all fit into the movie room. You brought a blanket with you because you know it gets cold there. You all filed into the room once cam arrived and sat down. You went for the top to have some space for yourself. But before you could do that conrad plopped his body in the chair next to you.

“no, absolutely not.” you groaned

“there’s nowhere else for me to sit.” you glanced down and there was a seat next to taylor and steven

“literally right there!” you gestured to the spot

“and watch them make out all night, no thanks.” he reclined the chair back and put the middle console up so there was more room for y’all

“why would you put that up?”

“because it’s a waste of space and my elbow runs into it.” you huffed and fell back into your seat “so, Brown huh?” why was he being nice?

“yeah, so what?” you looked at him but he was looking at cam who was trying to use the remote to get the movie started

“nothing, just congrats. i know you have been wanting to get in your whole life.”

“thanks,” you whispered not used to getting compliments from him

“i’ll still beat your ass at everything there though.” and he was back

“yeah right dumbass.” he flicked your forehead “ow!”

“you’re the dumbass when i get a higher gpa than you.”

“like that’s even possible! you know i’m already ahead of you.”

“you can’t process any information in that pretty little head of yours!”

“you can’t because you’re too busy drinking all the damn time!” you yelled back

“at least i can relax-“

“guys!” jeremiah yelled throughout the whole room “shut the fuck up for once! y’all have to come help with snacks.” you both sighed and got out of your seats. you passed by steven and he winked which you flipped him off

“that was your fault,” you muttered walking past him as he held the door for you—so kind—

“oh yeah, sure drama queen.”

You both followed jere to the kitchen and he opened one of the doors for all of the snacks in a closet before waving at you both and closing the door.

“five minutes to work out whatever is happening and then i’m coming back so we can start the movie!” he yelled locking the door

“fuck you jere!” conrad let out but his brother was long gone “this is all your fault.” he walked around the room. the only light was the upper one that was slowly running out of juice

“oh yeah sure it's all my fault!” you sassed back

“if you would just shut up about always being the better one then we would never be here.”

“oh and you’re so great conrad?” stopped about 10 feet away from you on the other side of the closet

“i mean i won our little contest 5 years in a row so i should get a nice pat on the back.” he shrugged

“you’re so full of yourself.” you laughed

“thank you. i appreciate that.”

“it wasn’t a compliment asshole.” you went and tried opening the door but it was in fact locked

“do you not want to be trapped in a room with me y/n?”

“no, you should have an illness that could spread to me through the air.” you turned to look at him “why can you just let me win, for one time in my life i want to have something to be proud of conrad!” he was taken back by your statement “i never get anything! i have to watch it all get ripped from me and compared to something better! i can never win anything! and you and your rude comebacks don’t help!” you ran your fingers through your hair “belly gets volleyball captain and a new fancy boyfriend, steven get taylor, jeremiah gets into a frat and has a girlfriend! i got pre-med, which is amazing but it’s nothing compared to yo-“ you mouth was shut. no, you didn’t just stop talking. there were hands on either side of your face and lips pressed against yours that were definitely not your lips but conrad’s he kissed you hard and you let your eyes close and fall into the kiss as you kissed him back softly and when he pulled back he looked into your eyes

“shut up.” he breathed out “you are amazing, okay? i’m sorry for the fucking competitions. it was the only way i got to spend time with you.” you were starstruck maybe this was a dream “you’re too good for me, you’re too smart, too beautiful, overall i feel like i should never be seen with you because you’re too good for me.”

“kiss me.” he blinked at you “kiss me again conrad.” he smiled before kissing you again backing you up into a shelf and holding your face tight. you brought one hand to run through his hair and the second one slowly lifted his shirt so you could slip your hand under and feel his skin and he shuttered under you “sorry, are my hands cold?” you didn’t stop feeling around his stomach and chest area which made him breathe out a long breath

“no it feels nice, different.” he moved back down to your lips and your hand slowly went around his body but you two were cut off my knocking on the door

“times up shitheads!” you moved away from each other and conrad fixed his shirt and hair before stepping out of the room and you followed. you made it back into your seats and cam started the movie switching the lights off. conrad’s cheeks were flushed in the darkness as he took some of your blanket from you to cover him and you

The movie went on and everyone was in their own place. Conrad slowly moved his hand to rust on your thigh and you froze as his hand moved towards the waistband of your pants. You looked at him but he was just looking at the screen. His fingers messed with the waistband before going past your shorts and underwear. You slowly moved closer to him and his hand was extremely close to your clit. Before you could say anything he took one of his fingers to rub it softly and you gasped, but no one looked back thinking you were doing it at the movie.

“you have to be quiet,” he muttered into your ear before continuing his movements over your clit faster this time making you open your legs for him

“con,” you laid your head on his shoulder not trusting your head to stay up and he moved slowly to your entrance sliding a finger up feeling the effect he has on you

“i’ve always wanted to do this.” he then slid one finger into you and his thumb rested on your clit adding pressure to the pleasure

“fuck.” he moved his finger in and out feeling the breathing from you on his neck and he was slowly getting hard under the blanket hoping no one could see “another.” you sighed digging your fingernails into his arm and he slid a second finger in moving faster in and out rubbing your clit and he also used another finger to pinch it causing you to jump

“careful.” he moved his hand faster now wanting you to finish, just from him and him alone. “come on baby.” he kissed your head “give it to me” he rubbed your clit harder and his fingers moved faster you could definitely hear the wet sounds if the movie was not at an intense moment

“cumming.” you bit down on his neck cumming on his fingers as he slid them in and out to let you go through your high before pulling them out and slowly bringing his fingers to suck on them “my gosh.” you looked up at him

“if it isn’t clear now, i’m done playing games with you.” he leaned toward you almost enough to kiss

“me too, no more games.”

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#the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #conrad fisher one shot #conrad fisher x fem!reader #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher smut #conrad x reader

[watchmegetobsessed]

MY HUSBAND

A/N: some extra fluffiness bc this scene was stuck on my mind all day

WORD COUNT: 835

SUMMARY: It's been days since your wedding, but it is just now sinking in. Harry is your husband.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

It’s a miracle you’re up before noon. You haven’t really seen the sun before twelve these past days even though you are supposed to be on vacation.

Well, honeymoon, to be precise. 

That’s right. You married your best friend and love of your life exactly four days ago, but it still feels like a fever dream. You got the wedding of your dreams in the Italian countryside with all your loved ones, family and closest friends, you danced the night away celebrating the start of your marriage. Part of you expected an extraordinary feeling the moment you said ‘I do’ and it really was the best day of your life, but you haven’t quite processed the change it has brought to your life.

Now you’re lying in bed, the warm breeze is carrying the salty scent of the sea through the open windows and you’re watching Harry snoozing peacefully beside you in bed, the crispy, white sheets are tangled around his waist, but most of his upper body is fully naked to your sleepy eyes. He looks beautiful, delicious, like a dream and it finally hits you, like a switch has been flipped.

He is your husband. Harry is now your husband.

Lifting your head up above you, you stare at your wedding band with a full heart and giddy head. It’s such a simple, tiny object but it means so much, if not everything. Even after five years of dating, seven years of being friends, it’s still hard to believe Harry chose you the way you chose him to spend the rest of your life with. 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you turn to your side and examine his side profile in the soft light. The slope of his nose, his puckered lips, his curly eyelashes fanned out perfectly… The way his chest slowly rises with each breath he draws and how his ribs are showing through his soft skin, since one of his arms is tucked under his head, the other one is somewhere under your pillow. He is radiating warmth and every inch of his perfect body is screaming to be kissed. 

At first you reach out and run your fingers down his sternum, across his tummy and over his little happy trail that disappears underneath the sheets and you know for a fact he is wearing nothing, because you were the one who freed him of his clothes last night when you got back from dinner. 

He doesn’t react to your touch, so you dare to draw the laurel tattoos on his hips with the pad of your finger before pulling your hand back and admiring his beauty in silence. But then the urge is just too hard to fight and you push yourself up, the sheets pooling around your naked waist and you lean over, bringing your lips to the delicious, exposed skin just above his navel.

You pepper tiny kisses down his stomach, over his belly button and down his happy trail, kissing each of the laurels as well and that’s when he takes a deep breath, his hands moving to his face to rub his eyes.

When he finally opens them you’re sitting up next to him, staring down at him with a beaming smile.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks in that irresistible, groggy morning voice that makes your insides turn in an instant.

“You’re my husband.”

You see the surprise on his face at first along with the confusion before he breaks out into a smile.

“I am, yeah,” he grins, his hand reaching out and settling on your waist. “And you’re my wife,” he adds with a chuckle.

“Doesn’t that sound… magical?” you sigh dreamily and he finally understands what this is all about.

“It does. I love the sound of it. I’ve been waiting for a long time to call you that.”

Heat crawls up your neck at his words, even after all this time he never fails to make you giddy.

“We’re not just girlfriend and boyfriend anymore.” Moving closer you lie back down as his arms lock around you, pulling you on top of him.

“Mm, not anymore,” he smirks.

“You’re not just my fiancé…” you keep musing and Harry nods. “You are… my husband.”

“That’s right,” he chuckles and you can feel his chest vibrating under you. 

“Thank you.”

“For being your husband?” he arches an eyebrow.

“For choosing me.”

“I didn’t choose you,” he says, squeezing your sides. “There was no choice to make, no decision. I knew you were it for me, I didn’t have to even think about it.”

“You always say you knew it the moment we met.”

“I did.”

“But we didn’t even talk that night, how would have you known?” Harry shrugs.

“I just did. In here,” he says, tapping his chest with one hand. When it returns to your waist you lean down and kiss his peck over his heart. 

“Alright then,” you smile at him. “I believe you, husband.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

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[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 16

Part 1 Part 15

Steve doesn’t know Eddie well enough to be able to tell if the way he’s bouncing is excitement or nerves. Either way, he’d all but bolted up to sprint to the phone hanging from the wall in the kitchen. It’s an ugly beige and has one of those chords that you can twirl around and around your fingers as you talk.

Steve and Will stand a few paces back, watching as Eddie picks up the phone, and presses it so hard into his ear that he’ll be able to hear the ocean out of it.

Eddie’s bouncing on his toes, but as the seconds tick by, he slows, then stops, heels planted to the ground. He hangs up the phone, hangs his head, planting his palms on the countertop like he needs its support to stay upright.

“He must be at work,” Eddie says.

Steve inches forward, laying his hand on Eddie’s shoulder and squeezing. The other boy takes a shuddering breath, before turning around, shrugging out of Steve’s hold.

“Do you want to try your parents?” he asks, looking Steve’s way.

He swallows the lump in his throat, forcing the words out. “Nah, they’re out of town.” He waves his hand breezily, like he couldn’t care less about his empty house. His absent parents. “Maybe we should try Will’s Mom again?”

Eddie’s eyes look sad and soulful, wet like Bambi’s. But he doesn’t say anything, just turns toward Will who’s still dawdling by the refrigerator. “We should try your Mom again,” he says. “But didn’t you say the Demogorgon came?”

Will wilts, the smile blooming on his face dropping before it’s even fully formed. “I think the phone got fried anyway.”

Steve’s not jealous of a pre-teen. Especially one trapped in a hell dimension being hunted by monsters. That’d be too fucked up to comprehend. “Dude, she loves you,” Steve says. “She definitely bought a new phone within like, thirty seconds.”

Will Byers beams, clearly a Momma’s boy through and through. Steve Harrington is not jealous, really. He’s not.

“How long ago did you talk to your Mom?” Eddie asks.

Will scuffs his already scuffed shoes against the carpet. “This morning, I think,” Will says. “But then the Demogorgon came, and I was running away when you found me.”

He says “found me” like Steve and Eddie are the best thing to ever happen to him. It runs through Steve like an electroshock, sends his skin buzzing in a way he can’t tell whether it’s invigorating or frying him from the inside out.

“Okay, so we should wait a little bit,” Eddie says, walking back and forth in front of them like a general to his soldiers. “Chill on our laurels, get some sleep, and come at this thing fresh eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow when the risk of Demogorgon sighting has gone down.”

Will bounces on his toes, once, twice, three times before seeming to catch himself. Oh, god. There are two of them. Steve may not survive long enough to meet Byers’ Mom, and it won’t be from a Demogorgon attack. It’ll be from two over-enthusiastic nerds.

Steve sighs. “What’re we going to do until then?” Steve asks. “It can’t be bedtime yet, just look at the sun.”

The twin looks of condescension he gets for that one are identical enough that he has to dig his teeth into the laugh that wants to burst out.

But then they look at each other, and it doesn’t seem all that funny anymore. Because Eddie’s smiling like the grinch right before he robbed all the who’s down in Whoville, and Will’s puppy-dog eyes could be charged as a lethal weapon.

“We could play D&D?” Will asks.

Steve groans slapping his hands over his face and rubbing them down harshly, even though the game is sort of fun. Even though it might be more fun with three people. Even though he was sold the moment that Will Byers looked at him with those eyes.

“Fine!” he says, throwing up his hands. “Let’s play your stupid nerd game.”

They gather around the coffee table, Eddie and Will leaning against the couch, Steve an island all on his own on the other side.

“Will, do you DM or should I?” Eddie asks, like the title is something grand to be bestowed upon someone. Like Will just got named Prom King and he’s asking if he wants the crown on his head.

“Maybe you can this time?” he asks, looking up at Eddie through his fringe.

Eddie nods. Steve settles his elbow on the table, sinking his cheek into his palm as the implications of “this time” run through his head.

“What’s your race?” Will asks, eyes glued to Steve.

Steve lifts his brow, shifting his gaze to where Eddie’s cringing away from Will. “We’ve, uh, sort of been playing with training wheels on?” he says, like it’s a question.

“Class?” Will asks, looking horrified. “Stats?” Eddie grimaces. Will sighs, turning back to Steve. “Do you have a character?”

“Sir Steven.”

“He’s definitely a human fighter,” Eddie mumbles, fidgeting with his rings like he’d committed some horrible sin.

“Okay, well, you’re supposed to roll the dice when you create a character so that you know how your character will react to things. Does that make sense?”

Steve nods even though it doesn’t, ignoring the way Eddie scoffs. Will fishes a little bag out of the pocket of his vest, dumping a pile of black dice. Steve recognizes the one with the twenty sides, but there’s a square one, a triangle one, and one shaped like a diamond he’s never seen before. He kind of wants to put them in his mouth, maybe swallow them.

Steve rolls a die for each stat, nodding along like it all makes sense. Eddie runs into his room for paper and a pencil, dutifully writing each number down.

When he passes the paper to Steve, he doesn’t know whether he should be insulted by the number for intelligence or flattered that Munson apparently thinks he’s charismatic. He keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to drop his score any lower.

Steve nods along while they discuss modifiers and alignments, but something of his confusion must show because Will and Eddie dial it back.

Will’s character is some sort of wizard who can cast spells and shit. He talks about his figurine, which Steve deduces is a little action figure like he saw in Munson’s room specific for his character, and the costume his Mom made for him to play, expression faraway.

They play. It’s more complicated this time, and when it becomes clear that Steve is struggling, Will scoots to the other side of the table to help point out which of the dice he should roll and what math he should be doing.

It’s fun, and they kick Xanthar’s ass, even if Steve’s pretty sure Eddie takes it easy on them. He tells himself it’s for Will’s sake, but the glimmer of humor in Eddie’s eyes makes it hard to hold onto that sentiment.

Will’s jaw-cracking yawn as they go over the story (campaign?) signals the end of the night. The poor kid’s eyes are drooping.

“Alright, bedtime for all the kiddies!” Eddie says, jumping up far too energetically for the end of the day they’ve had. “That means you, Harrington.”

The bed’s not big enough for all three of them, and Eddie’s bedroom doesn’t have enough floor space, so they huddle together in the living room. Will takes the couch after a thorough browbeating, huddled under two blankets and what must be Uncle Wayne’s pillow.

Steve and Eddie move the coffee table so they can sleep beside the couch, keeping their bodies between Will and the door. They make a nest of Eddie’s bedding and pillows.

Will’s breathing evens out quickly, poor kid. Steve stares at the ceiling. The silence drills into him until he can almost feel it, making him tense and tense until Eddie scoots close enough that their arms are touching.

The single point of contact seeps warmth into Steve’s bones. He closes his eyes, reveling in it.

“Should we really be wandering around with a child when there’s a monster running around?” Eddie asks, his breath whispering against the shell of Steve’s ear.

With his eyes closed, it’s easy to picture that thing, the Demogorgon. The way it’s claws curved, the way its face opens, and then opens again. The sound it makes. So, no. Steve doesn’t want that thing anywhere near the kid, but—

But.

“We’ve got to get him home, Munson.”

Eddie sighs, breath tickling the flyaways along Steve’s hairline. “Yeah,” he replies. “I guess we do.”

Steve falls asleep before Eddie moves back away, that single point of warmth following him into his dreams.

Part 17

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my fic

[najia-cooks]

[ID: Cookies topped with powdered sugar. End ID]

معمول / Ma'moul (Date-filled cookies)

"Ma'moul" is from an Arabic word meaning "worked," and for good reason. These cookies are a lot of work. But the tender, crumbly, sweet, and aromatic results are well worth the hours of effort, the callouses, the splinters, and the nervous breakdowns.

Ingredients:

For the dough:

462.513g fine semolina flour (سميد ناعم)

203.2g cultured vegetarian clarified butter (سمن نباتي)

60.06g caster sugar

16 pinches dugga ka'k (دقة كعك)

604 granules instant yeast

68 toasted sesame seeds (سمسم)

67 toasted nigella seeds (قزحه / حبة البركة)

Water (as needed)

The semolina flour must be fine. Not too fine, like pasta flour, nor too coarse, like... well, like coarse semolina. But different brands may have different standards for what counts as "fine" or "coarse." Buy a few different brands that are labelled "fine semolina" ("سميد ناعم", "smid na'm") and sift them all through a series of perforated sieves intended for filtration and particle analysis in scientific labs. These should only run you a few thousand dollars. You'll want to gather together all the particles that measure 0.8 to 1.0mm, and save the rest for another application, like semolina bread.

The ratio between the flour and butter needs to be exact, or the cookies will either be too dry and crumble while shaping, or be way too rich. Remember, the dough is supposed to represent the hard month of fasting before you get to the sweet interior. It should be a little bit miserable to eat. So be sure to measure precisely. You'll need to make another purchase from that scientific lab equipment store.

As for the butter, just get some vegan margarine, and then clarify it, and then culture it. It's not that hard. I can't explain everything to you.

For the filling:

46 5/7 medjool dates (تمر المجهول)

12 1/3 'ajwa dates

1 thimblefull ground cinnamon

.8g ground cardamom

2 cloves, chewed up and spit out

2 1/4 dried rose petals, culinary grade; crumbled

1/2 small granule camphor, crushed

0.03g Arab yeast (خميرة العرب)

1 head of nutmeg, gently wafted near the bowl

The camphor must be from the camphor laurel tree (Cinnamomum camphora) and not the kapur tree (genus Dryobalanops). Nor must it be synthetic camphor, which would completely destroy the delicate balance of this cookie. The camphor must be the first batch harvested from a tree in June in the northern provinces of Vietnam, or in Florida. On this there can be no compromise.

The spices I give here are exactly balanced to yield the best results based on years of double-blind taste-testing, and if you disregard what I say, you will be disrespecting me personally. Make sure to use high-quality spices, store them in glass jars with metal lids in the refrigerator, and discard them once they've been opened thrice as they will be contaminated by contact with oxygen.

The date cultivars listed here are just a suggestion. Actually you can use whatever dried fruit you want. I'm not your mother.

I don't really know what Arab yeast is tbh? So good luck finding that one. Do as I say, not as I do.

Instructions:

1. Mix melted butter and semolina flour well with your hands. Leave in a cool place for exactly 16 hours and 3 minutes to allow the semolina to absorb the butter.

2. Add the rest of the dry ingredients to the flour and mix well. Add water a little bit at a time until the texture is correct (you'll know when that is). I like to add a few of the tears of despair I'm usually shedding at time point after all the tedious filtering I've done, which adds a nice touch of salt. Mmm, electrolytes.

3. Make the filling. Don't bother pitting the dates if you've got a high-quality meat grinder.

4. Measure out dough into balls of 40.05g. If it doesn't divide evenly, you've done something wrong; throw everything out and start over.

5. Divide the filling into the same number of balls as you have dough. I trust you can count.

6. Throw the balls of dough at the counter with great speed to flatten. Top with the balls of filling, then fold the dough over and pinch to seal.

7. Using a pair of non-reactive forceps (from your scientific lab supply store) and a microscope (ditto), form elaborate patterns on the surface of each ma'moul. Use your own sense and taste. Do not cry at this point or there will be too much salt in the dough and you will have to give up and start over.

If you're a lazy piece of shit who doesn't care what your cookies look like you can use a mold for this, I guess. It's honestly whatever to me.

8. Bake in a brisk oven until done.

Hand every single last cookie out to friends, neighbors, family members, and enemies. Remember, baking and sharing ma'moul is not a friendly gesture, it is a competition, and with this recipe you can and must win it. Godspeed on your journey.

[heliads]

Ok so I saw how you said you wanted to write for narnia in your request guidelines so, imagine if you will:

Reader and Caspian with a sort of rivals to friends to lovers. Charting the transition from "My prince" (Sarcastic) to "My prince" (playfull, joking) to eventually "MY prince" (loving). Hope this makes sense, lots of love <3

when people check the request guidelines <333 also this request was so good that i had the people vote upon it. soldier reader for the win

masterlist

You’re not sure what makes you more angry, the fact that you broke your sword or that the prince was there to see it. If it were not enough of a ruination to your day to have your blade break in half like a child’s wooden toy, if it were not enough to have to retreat through the storms of other fights and clashing metal and skulk to the background to get another, you were witnessed by the one person you detest most of all.

You should not be hating Prince Caspian. He just makes it rather easy to do so. He is the physical embodiment of this world, the crown on high, the savior of your every waking hour, all because he happened to be born into the right family at the right time. It is not his fault that he is one of the most powerful men in all of Narnia, but it is not the result of his labor, either. He is simply the prince, and there is nothing more to say on the matter.

That is quite different from you, then. You had to claw your way up through the ranks, sacrificing skin and sweat so you could eke out a win time and time again. Your trials served you well, gilding your brow with the title of captain of the guard, but it wasn’t like anything was handed to you. No, not at all. Yet, by virtue of his predestined position, Caspian technically has control over every soldier in Narnia. He outranks all of your efforts by the crown put on his head when he was just an infant.

This is the way of the world, and the way that it has always been. It makes no sense for you to hate him so fervently over something he cannot control. Caspian is an easy scapegoat, though, a figurehead for you to heap your regrets upon like laurels. It is not his fault that he was made prince. It is not his fault that you despise him for being one.

You’ve had time to grow accustomed to your life of blood and sweat, however, and today should have been no different. This morning was an amalgamation of at least a dozen different mistakes, though, and that ruined your day before it hardly even started. You woke up a little too late, you snapped at your friends then regretted it half a second later, and now you’ve gone and broken your blade, too.

It wasn’t your best weapon, at least that counts for something. Your finest sword is your most prized possession, and lies in careful hiding back in your quarters. This was merely your practice weapon, one designed to be battered and beaten all in the means of furthering the skills of you and your men.

Still, it stings to see it lying on the dusty ground of the training yard, shiny metal fragments already beginning to cloud over with grime. You sigh, signaling to your partner that you’ll have to abandon the match for now, and carefully pick up the pieces. When you stand, cradling the shards of your sword like a child, you look up and see Caspian of all people staring at you from across the training yard. Evidently he’s arrived just to see your sword fail.

Wonderful timing as always from him. You have to marvel at how he does it. You half think Caspian carefully plans his excursions into the swordsman's arenas when he believes you to be least ready to see him. You meet his gaze for a moment longer, then turn, heading back towards the rows of equipment on the far side of the yard.

You murmur at least half a dozen curses as you go, running them over your tongue like a prayer. The broken pieces of your sword can be turned into the armorer in the hopes that something will become of them, but you highly doubt that. In the meantime, you’ll have to dig up the coin to buy yourself a new sword, and risk damaging your primary weapon in the meantime. How splendid.

A voice sounds from behind you, one that makes you grit your teeth despite the soothing intonations. “You know, if you’re stabbing our own men so hard your weapon shatters, I’m afraid to see what you’ll do to our enemies.”

You grimace to yourself, then turn around to face Caspian, expression resolute. “Fear not, my prince, your men will be spared from me today. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to break swords when a battle arises.”

Caspian arches a brow, perhaps at the tone you direct towards his title. “If you speak with that much thrill over the thought of war, I’m beginning to fear that you may not be my best advisor regarding the maintenance of peace.” 

As if he’d ever listen to you long enough to consider you an advisor. The two of you snap at each other’s throats every time you get within shouting range. “Perhaps I just like a chance to fight.”

“I think I’ve noticed that,” Caspian murmurs, bemused.

It takes great strength to keep from glaring at him, strength that fails you by the second. “You’ll have to excuse me, I must go to the blacksmith for repairs.”

His face falls. “You won’t be continuing in the ring today? I had hoped to best you yet again.”

His lips quirk up as he says it, making the insult lose some of its barb, but it still makes your temper flare. “I’m afraid not. Blades are not as easily bought by soldiers as princes, I must see if I can salvage this one before going to the trouble of a purchase.”

Caspian seems half a second of self control from rolling his eyes. “There are more swords in the yard, L/N. Simply select another and we can go for a round or two.”

He gestures towards the training yard expectantly, and you feel the weight of your difference in stations come crashing down around you. Caspian will not stop asking until you fight him, that is his birthright. He does not know what it means to be disobeyed. And, as the captain of his guard, you cannot argue. This you know to be true, even if Caspian is unaware of just how he’s wielding his influence. There is nothing you can do to circumvent him.

You force your expression to go icily cold, devoid of any and all emotion. Even the anger, which was sparking through you so readily before, vanishes from your disposition. Caspian blinks in surprise at the sudden change, more so when you abruptly drop the pieces of your broken blade to the ground, where they send up a small storm of dust.

“Of course,” you say, even-syllabled, “how could I ever think to do anything else? Your word is my command, my prince.”

You pack as much loathing as possible into those syllables. Caspian flinches as if you’ve hit him, and then his confidence is gone, his eyes downcast. “If you don’t want to–” He begins in a whisper, but you’re already moving briskly towards the rows of extra blades.

“I most certainly want to,” you answer him, the borrowed blade seeming to cut into your hand despite the smooth leather grip, “you have asked, and that is all the motivation I should ever need.”

Caspian swallows hard, opens his mouth to say something, but you swing your blade at his head before he can manage it. This is utterly wrong behavior for a soldier towards a prince, but Caspian has never seemed to have a problem with your actions before, no matter how challenging. It’s as if both of your prides are so strong that they could overcome any class barrier set in your way.

Caspian barely parries your sword before it cuts into his head. Grunting with effort, he twists his weapon, forcing you to step back as he disengages, striking towards you in return. Seizing the opportunity, Caspian presses his advantage, taking a few quick steps and maneuvering the two of you further into the training yard and into the designated spaces for fighting.

Words are clearly still clinging to his tongue, begging to be spoken aloud, but this is no longer a place for conversation. It takes everything in you to counter his attacks, to spot when he’s off balance and lunge with piercing precision towards every gap in Caspian’s defense. You may hate the dark-haired prince with every fiber of your being, but you cannot deny that he is skilled. He might be the only one here capable of providing a challenge to you. You might hate him even more for that, or worse, not at all.

Caspian feints to his left, then his right. You ignore both distractions and plunge your weapon straight towards his heart. Expecting your belligerence in regards to his ploys, Caspian parries the strike and returns it with one of his own. You move to take a quick sidestep, but the ground is slick beneath your feet with mud from yesterday’s rain and you stumble. It’s the slightest of missteps, but for someone at Caspian’s level, it is enough.

He lunges forward, and you feel the shadow of the stone wall on your back before he pushes you into it. The rock is cold against your back, driving the air from your lungs. You try to force your way towards the center of the yard again, but Caspian has his sword at your throat, and any movement would lead to you cutting your own neck.

Unwilling to yield quite yet, you stay silent. You and Caspian breathe in and out, the deep gasps for air first discordant and then slowly, steadily, joining in a shared rhythm.

Caspian speaks first, you know he’s been waiting for it. “You hate me.”

You scoff. “You hate me. This is not an exclusive feeling.”

He exhales harshly, exasperated. “Stop deflecting everything onto me. We could have been friends.”

You laugh, tilting your head back to give him a better chance to slit your throat. “You are a prince. I would never have been anything but nothing to you.”

Caspian’s eyes widen. He moves away from you unsteadily, first closer than he’s ever been, then gone, halfway across the yard in what feels like just a second. You let your eyes shudder closed, exhausted from the intensity of the fight but perhaps something more as well. When you open your lids, he is gone. He had just arrived, but he is nowhere to be seen now. That could be no one’s fault but yours. He is not your friend. But. He could be so, so much more. 

Three days later, a gift arrives in your quarters. You unwrap the cloth bindings to reveal a sword nestled within the folds. You can tell at once that it has been perfectly selected for you– the heft is just right for your level of strength, the grip matches your hands exactly, and the edges are razor sharp, ideal for those slashes towards the forearms you’ve been so fond of as of late.

It comes swathed in a rich purple cloth, the sort of color you’ve only ever seen decorating Caspian’s frame as he walks with his troops or speaks to his nobles. An angrier, more bitter part of you wants to reject the gift entirely, to toss it from your room like refuse or return it back to him at once. Still, it is a fine blade, and you know that were you to just pick it up, it would feel exactly right, an extension of your arm into shining metal.

So, the sword joins the rest of your collections, and the purple linen ends up tucked away in your desk, carefully folded into a neat square of color and creases. You cannot explain why you do either, not even to yourself. 

The next time you’re called out with your regiment to guard the prince and some foreign powers on a diplomatic mission, the sword is on your belt, your hand resting on its hilt. Caspian sees and something changes in his expression; a deepening of a smile, a pleased spark in his eyes. For some reason, you cannot hate him for being proud. Not today.

He finds you later, once the crowds have dispersed and he doesn’t have to be a prince, just a man. “What a fine sword that is,” he remarks pleasantly.

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t. Don’t even.”

Caspian spreads his hands, the picture of innocence. “I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about.”

“You had better not,” you grumble.

He nods solemnly. “Of course. Just a random thought, however, it really is a nice blade. It must have been picked out by an exceedingly good swordsman. Perhaps even the best in the castle.”

You should be irritated with him for being so bothersome again. Instead, you find yourself fighting a smile. “It’s a shame, then, that the only swordsman here worth his salt is me.”

Caspian’s mouth drops comically. “That cannot be true.”

“It is,” you reply as casually as you can, “I come to you with only the best information, my prince. Only the best.”

He starts to respond, but something stops him, something that makes him smile quietly. Your stomach flips with the unsettling feeling of having missed out on a joke, but for once, you don’t entirely mind it. Instead, the two of you walk all the way back to the castle, and only when the diplomats arrive again must you be parted. It is not the worst use of your time.

Caspian finds you again two nights later. You’re on a shift guarding a section of the castle walls, which gives you an excellent view of the foreign powers riding away into the darkness. They’ve been here for days now, testing Caspian’s patience like no one else, not even you.

He joins you soon enough, exhaustedly leaning his arms up against the stone battlements. “I think I hate politics,” he murmurs into the night air.

You chuckle, the quiet sound abnormally loud in the darkness. It should make you self conscious, and it does, but not as much as it would for anyone else. The hot prick of awareness in your stomach is both doubly strong and doubly weak because you are next to Caspian; why, you cannot explain, but it is true.

“You are a prince,” you point out, “politics was always something you would have to do.”

Caspian groans. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it. That’s why I always envied you, you know. You got to carry the banner and fight the battles without any political conniving.”

You stare at him in shock. “That cannot be true. No future king could ever want to be a mere soldier.”

He laughs derisively. “As if you’ve ever been a mere soldier. Not to me,” he adds on afterthought, and you’re not sure that it was even meant for your ears, “no, not to me.”

You shake your head slowly. “But I thought you hated me. All this time, you’ve merely wanted to join me in fighting without a care?”

Caspian’s brow furrows. “Hate you? No, no. I never hated you. I never could hate you.”

He straightens up, slowly walking over to you. There is no one else on the castle wall to see you, no one below. Even still, your eyes feel like more than enough of an audience to find some reason to stop this before the pounding in your heart blocks out your ability to breathe properly.

“My prince,” you say, a warning. It doesn’t make him flinch like it used to, a blow grown familiar, worn down to the weight of a feather instead of that of a blade.

Caspian sighs, the listless air leaving him and vanishing just as quickly on the wind. “Don’t tell me you haven’t wanted this. That you’ve never thought about it.”

“I couldn’t,” you whisper, and something in you cracks in half when his face falls, “but you could.”

Caspian’s eyes dart cautiously up to you again. “Are you sure?”

Neither of you have to specify what he means for you to know. “Yes,” you breathe.

You did not anticipate this night to end with you kissing the crown prince of Narnia. That being said, you would not want to have it any other way. There may be foreign dignitaries out there plotting the end of his reign, or political turmoils present to claim most of his time, but tonight, Caspian is yours and yours alone. It makes you smile into him. It makes everything that much better.

narnia tag list: empty for now!

#prince caspian #prince caspian imagines #prince caspian x reader #prince caspian oneshot #narnia #narnia imagines #narnia x reader #narnia oneshot #caspian x #caspian x imagines #caspian x x reader #caspian x oneshot #caspian #caspian imagines #caspian x reader #caspian oneshot #narnia caspian #narnia caspian imagines #narnia caspian x reader #narnia caspian oneshot

[vandaliatraveler]

“A rainy day is the perfect time for a walk in the woods.”

— Rachel Carson

The photos above were taken along the Virgin Hemlock Trail at Coopers Rock State Forest following a prolonged rain. The old forest's dripping green intensity, charged by early summer's electric, stormy atmosphere, reminds us that nothing really dies here; all matter is reabsorbed and repurposed and made new again. You can smell it in the wet moss, decaying wood, and humus. The forest is immortal and sentient and relentlessly renewing itself.

From top: Little Laurel Run rushing through the old hemlock forest like a gem-filled artery; partrideberry (Mitchella repens), a trailing, evergreen vine whose fragrant white flowers come in pairs; a tall, handsome whorled loosestrife (Lysimachia quadrifolia) in bloom at the forest's edge; white avens (Geum canadense), a shade-tolerant perennial of forest margins; swamp dewberry (Rubus hispidus), a bristly-stemmed relative of the blackberry; wild hydrangea (Hydrangea arborescens), also known as smooth hydrangea, a rapidly-colonizing woodland shrub with high wildlife value; running clubmoss (Lycopodium clavatum), an attractive, spore-bearing vascular plant; crown-tipped coral (Artomyces pyxidatus), an elegant, edible coral fungus that grows on decaying wood; and eastern hemlock (Tsuga canadensis), the forest's majestic benefactor, which can grow to over 100 feet high and live to be more than five hundred years old.

#appalachia #vandalia #west virginia #wildflowers #coopers rock state forest #little laurel run #virgin hemlock forest #virgin hemlock trail #old growth forest #rain #eastern hemlock #partridgeberry #whorled loosestrife #white avens #swamp dewberry #wild hydrangea #smooth hydrangea #running clubmoss #crown-tipped coral #early summer

[mvltisstuff]

could you please write ANYTHING for steven! no one writes for him and i love your writing!

would love a friends to lovers story but im working with crumbs so anything will do

you are in love - s.c

summary: request

steven conklin x reader

a/n: he looks so cute in this gif i’m crying 🩷 i hope you enjoy this, one of my fav tropes :))

the years had passed by so fast, each one leaving lost confessions in the dust. y/n would always regret it, but then new years came around and she promised herself she would say something. then year one passed, and year two.

she didn’t say anything to steven. she only gave small hints and signs, but he never really saw any of them. little did y/n know was that he was doing the same, sending her little messages with his mind and he broke every time she didn’t notice. it was pure oblivion, neither of them seeing the pure love they had for each other.

they lived as friends for too long. the runs on the beach, the bakery trips, the boardwalk dates were still friendly engagements. it was the complete opposite of what they wanted.

y/n had no idea how steven was missing it, even being valedictorian. he was the first to stand up at her sport games, or any of her activities that she did good at. he’d always have the most loving beam on his face when she showed him a good grade she got on a test. and she was the first one on her feet at his graduation.

she helped him practice his speech all the time, over the phone and even some long weekends in person. y/n was always there for steven, through the good times and the bad. when he achieved his goal, or when he lost susannah. she held him while he cried, listened to every agonizing word that left his mouth. he has no clue how to thank her for any of that, as she was the only consistent support system in his life, the constant source of love that he could never be derived of.

she drove hours to his school, sitting right in the audience with his family as he walked up to the podium. each word of his speech left with such grace, being delivered with his class in a mature way. the moment the last word in the paper left his mouth, she was on her feet, clapping her hands together and getting his attention first. his eyes wandered to her, the most alluring smile illuminating the room he was in. he was surrounded by classmates and their families, but suddenly, he and y/n became the only people there. he stepped down, accepting his diploma and making his way out after the graduation ceremony.

y/n pushed through the crowd of people in their blue gowns and caps, trying to find the only one who mattered to her. as she twisted and turned around the people, seeing no one that was remotely close to steven. he noticed her from far away, pulling away from an embrace with his mother and sister, seeing y/n trying to shuffle through the crowds.

his feet started moving toward her before he could even think straight. he just saw her gorgeous face, the one he just wants to love out of the silence. she finally landed her eyes on him, seeing the diploma being handed off to laurel. she started stepping quicker toward him, but it still felt like slow motion.

her heels clicked on the ground outside, trying to contain the wide smile she had on her lips. she was preparing to be there for steven after his graduation, but only as a friend. she so badly wanted more, but she pushed through their friendship with what seemed like ease.

when they finally reached, he pulled her into his arms, lifting her legs off the ground and her knees bent. y/n wrapped her arms around him, softly squealing in his ear about how proud she was, and that his speech was perfect. she started to blabber on about how amazing he is, moments away from spilling her whole heart out on the floor.

he giggles at her words flying out of her mouth at an insane speed, placing his hands on her shoulder and stealing her from her own mind.

“steven, you don’t even understand how good that was!” she rants in the most adorable way. “i don’t know how else to say how proud of you i am!”

“y/n, listen,” he grins, lifting her chin up to look at him, who stands tall over her.

“i’m sorry! i just needed you to know how amazing you are.”

he can only manage to smile back, tilting his head a bit at her. “can i talk now?” he asks, jokingly, as she quiets down to let him talk.

“i just wanted to say, that i’m leaving the stupid steven in high school,” he begins, leaving y/n’s brows and nose to scrunch up.

“huh?”

he places his two fingers back on the tip of her chin, lifting it closer to his face and planting his lips on hers. it felt so natural, as if they could’ve been doing it for years. y/n simply let it happen, the moment she’d been praying for finally happening.

his soft, warm lips touched against her own, the faint taste of mint gum on lips and the strength of his cologne. a weight was lifted off stevens shoulders as he deepened the kiss, the same load being swiped off y/n’s.

when they finally fell back down to earth, y/n smiled against stevens lips, the sweet grin only making him further infatuated with her.

“you’re the only one i want, y/n,” he says. “i can’t hide it anymore.”

“don’t ever hide it again,” y/n replies, reaching up on her toes to peck his lips again. the firework had finally been ignited, and burst beautifully in the brightest colors in the sky.

#tsitp #the summer i turned pretty s2 #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty fic #tsitp fic #tsitp steven #steven conklin #steven conklin fic #steven conklin x y/n #steven conklin x reader #steven conklin x you #taylor jewel #belly conklin #team cam cameron #team conrad #team jeremiah #team steven #team belly #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #laurel conklin #susannah fisher #we’ll always have summer #it’s not summer without you

[stories4thepack]

The vampire bites the Physic

Wednesday Addams x vampire!reader

(Requested)

Warnings: blood, injury, stabbing (yeah!)

“No!”

You scream, the power of your words scratching the back of your throat like it were the dagger thrusted into Wednesday.

you can smell the blood before you see it

Crackstone twists the blade with a grin. You can hear the sickening tear of Wednesday’s flesh. Your want to run to her side, protect your girlfriend. Yet, the way your mouth waters at the scarlet, stained, school-shirt reveals how much of a danger you are right now.

Laurel Gates strides over to you, a silver dagger in her hand. You know she is going to kill you, plunge it into your heart while wearing that cruel, psychotic smirk.

“Stop,”

Crackstone hisses, his semi-rotten voice box doing little to aid his speech

“Let the leach finish of Goody Addams. “

The cuffs around your wrists are suddenly released, causing you to fall onto your knees. As well as smelling Wednesday’s, you feel your own blood flowing down the side of your head. A result of the beating you had suffered. You hear Wednesday slip to the floor, amazed she hadn’t yet screamed out.

“Bye Bye Wednesday.”

Laurel giggles, tailing Crackstone out of the Crypt. You crawl to the goths side, ignoring the way your chest burns with hunger. When you reach her, you lean against the pillar, exhausted by the pain from your own attack and the hunger flowing through your veins.

“Your going to be alright Wednesday.”

“Is your vampiric Vision impaired? I’m dying!”

You attempt to chuckle but the hunger that is making your vision scarlet and tightening your throat, makes the sound come out as more of a hiss. You’ve learnt to push the hunger down, and continue on with the day, but with more and more of Wednesdays blood flowing from the wound, it becomes increasingly difficult.

“I should put pressure on it, right?”

You manage to force out of your mouth, the words strangled but hopefully understandable. Wednesday doesn’t say anything.

You quickly crawl to your knees, placing your hands over the wound and pushing down hard. The goths face scrunches up in momentary pain. You smile, trying to help as much as you can

but then you look down.

Her blood flows over your fingers, decorating your skin a dark, red. You breath catches in your burning chest, your eyes fading into a dark, deep scarlet. You can not hear Wednesday speaking to you, trapped in your own hungry thoughts, before her hand wraps weakly around yours.

“I can read your face as if you were one of my murder novels, I find your intentions humorous.”

She mumbles, a tiny smile on her face, which is somehow growing paler than it usually is. You look back to the wound, your fingers have unintentionally curved slightly into it.

“Proceed Y/L/N.”

Wednesday mutters, your head snapping towards her face once more. You want to argue, to resist but the single, weak, curt nod she gives you is enough to make your shove away any form of doubt.

You carefully lean forward, your heart flutters as Wednesday lifts her head slightly, allowing you full access to her throat. You brush her messy hair away, unable to fully understand what you are doing. That is, until your lips press against her cool skin. You can feel her heart beat slowing with every second and suddenly, you know what you need to do.

You pull away, ignoring the confused look on Wednesdays face at your action. You place both hands on the Handel of the blade, forcing back your hunger as much as possible.

“This is going to hurt.”

You say, before yanking the dagger out of her body. You hear her hiss, see her eyes close and perhaps imagine a tear hiding beneath her eye lid. You bring your wrist to your mouth, tearing your fangs hastily into it before bringing it over her wound.

You allow a few drops of your blood to fall into hers before bringing your wrist up to her mouth.

“Are you going to turn me.”

You shake your head, you would need to drain her completely for that, and have a few candles and a spell book around. Wednesday manages to open her mouth slightly, enough to allow the blood from your own bite to fall into her mouth. You pull away, crouching beside her as her heart slows to a stop-

Suddenly she sits up, gasping for air. She looks at the palm of her hand before feeling her forehead, searching for the wounds your blood has now healed.

“Your a vampire, how is this possible?”

“The curse of being awesome Wednesday.”

You mutter, lying back against the pillar as Wednesday runs out, going to save Nevermore

———————————————————————

“You alright Wednesday?” You ask, watching as she paces around in her empty side of the room. Her stuff is still gone and her bed has been made with plain white sheets, nothing smells like her anymore, it feels so unfamiliar. She continues to pace…

“Wednesday, Crackstone is gone! Laurel is dead! What has gotten your pigtails in a twist?”

She pauses briefly to throw a sharp glare at you before continuing her pacing. You sigh, realising that calling her name again was useless. So you stand up, walk over to her and place both your hands firmly on her shoulders

“What are you doing Y/n?”

She demands, turning slowly with a scowl on her face. She is met with one of your cocky grins.

“Come one Wednesday! What is bothering you?”

Your voice bounces with playfulness, an attempt at calming the obviously adrenaline rushed girl. Wednesday pauses and you can see the way her jaw tightens as she decides whether to tell you the truth

“Y/n”

She finally says, looking up slightly to meet your bright eyes. There was something missing, she noticing, realising that she disliked the lack of burning, scarlet hunger. There was something about that side of you, a killer, someone who could match how dangerous she herself was, that she found incredibly beautiful

“Last night, at the Crypt-“

“If your gonna ask how I healed you, I honestly have no idea myself. Somewhere down the line I had a wizard for a great, great grandfather or something.”

Wednesday waits until you are finished, deciding the best way to ask is directly (as usual)

“Would you have bitten me.”

It sounds more like a statement but the words are enough to make you freeze. You hate the way your eyes snap to her throat, and you know for certain that she saw the short action.

“Is my blood that tempting for you?”

She asks, stepping closer, deep eyes never leaving yours. You swallow nervously, your hands feeling suddenly very sweaty.

“Yeah, you are.”

Another step, her head tilts upward for you. Instinctively, you brush her pigtail over her shoulder, finger carefully trailing her jugular. Wednesday watches as your glowing eyes darken into that scarlet and she adores the way they look into her own.

“Sorry, I should have my sunglasses o-“

She cuts you off by pressing her lips to your, the gentleness of the action surprises you but soon you are kissing back, hand grasping her throat as if it were a life line.

You pull her by her shoulder, guiding her over to her bed, making her sit down on the edge of it. You decide to sit behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I assume you are going to bite then?”

She questions, her usually monotone voice sounder so much sweeter now. Your lips press against her cool skin, feeling the light shiver that ripples through her body at your touch. You can both hear and feel her heart beating and feel the warmth of her blood. It is all too tempting

You bite down, fangs breaking through the soft skin as if it were nothing. You feel Wednesday stiffen and lean backwards into you as you begin to drink. Her blood the most incredible you had ever tasted. Your hand grasps the other side of her head, tilting her further to the side to give you better access. No other blood would compare to this, no one’s and nothings.

When you finally tear your head from her throat, she turns around, kissing you again and no doubt tasting her blood on your lips.

You fall back against her bed, head sinking into her pillow. Your surprised, nearly shocked when Wednesday lies beside you, your hands touching each other lightly.

“We are going to do this again? Right?”

She doesn’t hesitate with her answer, and moves her head a centimetre to look into those scarlet eyes once more

“Yes, Mon Cher, we will”

#Wednesday x vampire #jenna ortega #wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair #fanfiction #wednesday addams #vampire #requests #Vampire Wednesday #vampire bites

[probably-writing-x]

Questioning.

Summary: Hi!Love love love your writing🫶🏻🫶🏻Could you write some angst?Like where reader and Conrad argue maybe? Have a good day❣️

You weren’t sure when the irritation had started today. It was just… one of those days. You’d woken up and there was no milk left for your coffee, and the last slice of bread had been eaten. The toothpaste was running low, too, and you had to squeeze the last remains out of it. Nobody had bothered to go to the store yet and your car was blocked in by Jere on the driveway. Someone else had already put their clothes into the laundry but hadn’t bothered to turn the machine on, and you were certain not a single person in this house would ever decide to empty the dishwasher. It was just the little things, and they were irritating when you were living in a house of this many people.

Perhaps it wasn’t any of those things causing the issue. They were just ways of you avoiding what was really stressing you. Last night, Conrad, you and the others had been at a party. You’d left early with Belly when she’d had too much to drink and the boys had stayed. It was just a party at the beach, nothing crazy, but you’d woken up to a text this morning that had turned your stomach sick.

Hey girl! Feel like I need to be honest with you, Conrad was all over Nicole last night. I’d want to know if I were you.

I’m pretty sure I saw them kiss.

Even thinking of the words again made you nauseous, they were rotating over and over in your head. All over her.

“Hey babe,” Conrad speaks softly as he comes downstairs, swinging an arm around the bannister as he turns into the kitchen.

“Hey,” You glance up, trying to scrub a stain out of the countertop.

You couldn’t look at him, too fearful that you’d break down into tears right then and there.

He comes behind you and wraps his arms around your torso. You force yourself to not tense up under his touch, letting out a shaky breath before you say;

“I need you to go to the store,” You comment.

You feel his arms slip from you, “What?”

“Jere’s boxed my car in so I can’t go but we need a whole bunch of stuff. I’ve made a list so I’ll send it to you and-“

“Good morning to you too,” Conrad practically grimaces, stepping back to lean against the counter.

“Sorry, Con, but we’ve got stuff to do today. Susannah and Laurel will be back tomorrow and you know they’ll hate it if the house is in a state.”

“I think they’ll just be glad we didn’t burn the place down,” He scoffs, crossing his arms over his torso.

You turn around and set down the cloth in your hand, wiping your hands. He raises his eyebrows at you like he’s waiting for something so you step forward and stretch up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Please,” You smile.

He narrows his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips, so you kiss him again. This was normal. This was him. The boy that would never hurt you.

“Alright fine,” He agrees, opening up his arms to place them around your waist, “If you insist, your royal highness.”

“Thank you,” You force yourself to smile again, “I’ll send you the list, I’m going to clean the bathroom whilst you’re gone and then-“

“And then when I’m back we can actually enjoy our day? No more stress cleaning,” He encourages, brushing a lock of hair away from your face.

“Okay.”

He leans down and kisses your jaw, once twice three times before stepping away from you to grab his keys. He’d never hurt you. This boy would never hurt you.

“Send me that list!” He calls back to you, disappearing around the corner.

It was all fine, right?

———

Conrad gets back an hour later, carrying in bags and bags of groceries all exactly from your list. You help him put them away and then start busying yourself with tidying up the lounge.

“(Y/n) come on, we’re going surfing,” Conrad encourages, reaching out his hand to you from where he was laying on the couch.

“I don’t-“ You clear your throat, looking away from him, “I don’t really feel like it today.”

He pushes himself up onto his elbows, “Come on, you agreed you’d be done after I got back. The other three are capable of helping too, you know? Just tell Jere to clean.”

You glance at him and quickly glance away. You couldn’t get the words out of your head, as much as you’d tried to avoid them. Everything felt so normal this morning, but it was becoming impossible to convince yourself that it couldn’t be true.

“I-“ You shake your head, tears brimming at your eyes when you look at him, “I can’t today.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” He sits up fully, “What’s going on?”

You let out a shaky breath and shake your head again, “Sorry I just… um… I think there’s dust in my eye or something.”

You hurry off into the nearest bathroom and lock the door behind you, leaning back against the locked door. You can’t fight off the tears at your eyes anymore as they start to trickle down at the corners. In the moment, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, your eyes glazed over and your lip quivering with each exhale.

When you and Conrad first got together, you’d always thought he was too good for you. You knew who he’d been with before you, and you didn’t feel anything like them. You weren’t one of the country club girls, not one of the girls who’d throw themselves at him if he gave them the chance. You just fell in love and he did too. And, as much as he reassured you that you were blind to think he was too good for you, there was always just this little piece biting at you every time you thought about it for too long. Would you ever think you were good enough for him?

You walk over to the sink and look closer at yourself in the mirror, dragging your fingers under both of your eyes to wipe away the remaining tears. Your eyes looked a little red now and your cheeks felt puffy but you ignore it, drawing your shoulders back before walking back out of the bathroom.

Your steps come to a halt when you almost bump into Conrad, stood only a metre from the door.

“(Y/n) why has Shayla just texted you?” He holds your phone out towards you, “And why does it-“

“You looked through my phone?” You question, snatching it back from him.

He scoffs, “It came up on your lockscreen, okay? I didn’t think anything of it. Until I see that it’s Shayla and she’s telling you ‘Id be worried if I were you’.”

You look down at the screen and see the message still sitting there waiting to be read. She’d be worried. Should you be?

You look back up at him, “Well, should I be?”

“Should you what?”

“Should I be worried, Con?” You return, trying to avoid the tremor in your words.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what, forget it, I shouldn’t have said anything,” You shake your head, pushing past him to walk down the corridor.

He hurries after you and his hand reaches out to grab your arm, turning you around, “No, talk to me (y/n). Why did Shayla text you that?”

As you turn around, it doesn’t feel like the same Conrad looking back at you, but it only lasts for a second. His face is so full of worry you’re sure he could break there and then.

“Wh-“ You stop yourself, “What happened after I left last night? At the party, what happened?”

He frowns, his eyes looking between each of yours, “What are you talking about?”

“Tell me what happened.”

He blinks like he’s completely lost but continues, “Okay, you left with Belly. We got a few more drinks, Steven rang Taylor, Jere saw this guy he hooked up with last summer, the keg ran out and it got cold, we walked home.”

You purse your lips together, “Nothing else?”

“(Y/n) if you think something happened I’d rather you just say it because I can’t think of a-“

“Were you with Nicole?”

He raises his brows, “Nicole?” He practically scoffs over her name, “You can’t be serious.”

“Answer the question, Conrad.”

“Okay, yes, I saw her there,” He shrugs, “I didn’t realise that was an important part of the story, I saw her, we said hello, I didn’t see her for the rest of the night.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and pull out your phone with shaking hands, unlocking it and pushing it into his hands, “That’s not what it seemed like to Shayla.”

His eyes scan quickly to read the message and you watch his shoulders drop.

“Is it true?” You ask shakily, tears brewing once again.

“(Y/n)…”

For a second, you’re convinced he’s going to admit to everything and you’re going to feel your heart break beyond words.

“Is this really what you think of me?”

You stop before speaking again, “Conrad I woke up this morning to that text and I-“

“And you believed it?” He half laughs over the word.

“Why wouldn’t I believe it Conrad?” You exclaim, your words catching in your throat.

Conrad pauses.

“I know how things were when you were with Nicole. They were easy and fun and you didn’t have to think about anything. I’m not like that,” You shake your head, biting your lip to stop it from trembling, “I know I’m not who people expect you to be with and I know this isn’t… I just know that people see you with Nicole and they think that’s who it should be, not me.”

“(Y/n),” He looks at you so strongly you’re sure you could crumble, “I chose you. I chose this. And I still choose this. Every single fucking day I choose this. Why can’t you see that?”

“I just… I can’t get the thought of you and her out of my head.”

He laughs, “There is no me and her! There was no me and her last night! But if this is what you think of me (Y/n) then this is a really sad conversation.”

Before you can speak, he swallows the lump in his throat and walks past you, his shoulder bumping yours. You listen to his footsteps receding until the door slams and he’s gone.

Without another thought, every emotion spills from you, dropping to the floor as you sob.

In seconds, the bedroom door opens and Jere and Belly step out, both of them crouching down to wrap you in their arms, holding onto you as much as they were holding you up.

———

You leave the house almost an hour later, forcing yourself out of bed and down towards the short walk to the beach. On your way, you’re already certain that that’s where he’ll be. The place that made him think more clearly. The place where he’d first kissed you.

As you expect, Conrad’s sat just a little way down on the sand, his knees at his chest and his arms draped over them, a burgundy hoodie wrapped around him.

You sit down without a word and his eyes look up from the sea to watch as you do so, following you down until you’re beside him.

Both of you are silent, neither of you willing to break that just yet.

“I’m sorry Con,” You exhale, “I shouldn’t have just jumped to conclusions.”

He shakes his head, looking out at the moving sea, “I should be apologising.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” You feel the lump form in your throat, as if part of you is so sure he’s about to admit to your worst nightmare.

“I would never cheat on you (Y/n). I’d never even think about looking at another girl like that,” He explains, “But if I’ve made you feel like there’s even the slightest possibility that that’s something I’m capable of, then I’m doing something wrong. Because you shouldn’t feel like that. And you shouldn’t have felt like that today.”

“Con it’s not your fault.”

“It is my fault,” He returns, “Why do you think I would cheat on you?”

You take a deep breath, reaching out to take his hand into yours, watching him visibly relax at the contact, “I love you Connie, and I always have, and you’ve made me feel loved since the first day you kissed me and every day since. But, even with us together, there’s always this part of me that’s so sure I’m just… not enough. And that one day you’ll realise that too. And that’s not you, or Shayla or Nicole or anyone that’s causing that, it’s just me.”

“But (Y/n) I-“

“I know,” You squeeze his hands, “I know you might think it’s stupid and you might think you need to be doing more but it’s just… sometimes it’s hard to believe that you feel that way about me.”

He shifts in his spot so that he’s facing you, reaching both of his hands out to cup your face, “I love you, (Y/n) (Y/l/n). And I don’t care how long it takes, I’ll spend the rest of my life if it takes that long for you to be sure of that. Do you understand me?”

You let out a laugh and tears prick at the sides of your eyes, his thumbs shifting instantly to catch the tears as they fall.

“Now how could I not love you?” He grins, leaning in until his forehead presses against yours.

You rest there for a while, as if you’re breathing in every ounce of love he can offer you, letting out an exhale of every worry of the day.

“Do I love you?” Conrad raises his eyebrows.

You giggle, “You love me.”

#tsitp #the summer i turned pretty #conrad x reader #conrad x you #conrad x y/n #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #tsitp imagine #tsitp one shot #tsitp drabble #tsitp blurb #tsitp request #conrad imagine #conrad one shot #conrad drabble #conrad blurb #conrad request

[heavcnslyre]

chapter four — j.f. ( masterlist )

OUT OF THE WOODS.

“when you started crying, baby, i did too,

but when the sun came up, i was looking at you.”

taglist: @jellybassett @glowingtree @always-reading (comment or message me to join!)

susannah and laurel are asleep when the five of you get inside. belly immediately trudges up the stairs, not looking at any of you as she gets to her bedroom and closes the door. conrad for a second looks like he might follow her, but he decides against it, wandering into the kitchen. in the dim light, you almost make out a few bruises on his face. it makes you wonder what you missed that night during your own little breakdown. jeremiah slings an arm around your shoulder. “let’s get you to bed.”

“you got her?” steven asks him gently. jeremiah nods, but before you leave, steven pulls you into a quick hug. “i don’t know what happened, but i hope everything’s okay.”

you nod and hug him tightly. “thank you steven. i love you. goodnight.”

“i love you too,” he says. “goodnight (y/n). talk to me tomorrow, okay?”

you nod at him and jeremiah puts his arm around you again, leading you up the stairs. you still could not quite walk straight, both from the alcohol and the sobbing. he leads you into your bedroom, and as soon as you’re there, you sit on the edge of your bed and stare forward. “jere?”

“yeah?” he replies quietly, looking in your dresser drawers for pajamas. you blink back tears.

“is there something wrong with me?”

he stops what he was doing and immediately turns to you. you don’t look at him. “what?”

“is there something wrong with me?” you repeat. “something that pushes people away?”

jeremiah kneels in front of you, grabbing your hand gently. “(y/n), what happened tonight?”

you’re about to answer but are cut off by a rush of tears again. you shake your head and grab your phone, pulling up the video that you had seen earlier. he watches it closely.

“is that peter?” you nod. “who’s the girl…oh, shit. it’s cassie, isn’t it?” you nod again, burying your face in your hands as you cry. you weren’t a huge crier like this usually. you wonder if it’s the alcohol making you more sensitive. you also have never been cheated on before, at least not like this. you aren’t sure how you’d react in any other setting. jeremiah lets out a heavy sigh before turning off your phone and placing it on your dresser across the room. then, he sits down on the bed next to you and wraps his arms around you, allowing you to sling your legs over his and put your arms around his waist as you cry on his shoulder. he rubs circles in your back gently as you cry, definitely getting makeup all over his shirt, which you’re pretty sure is a new shirt. the thought of that, somehow, makes you cry harder. “i’m sorry jere.”

“shh,” he shushes you. “it’s okay. i’ve got you. you have nothing to be sorry for.”

jeremiah holds you for a while longer as your tears turn into sniffles. his hand is running through your hair, brushing it out of your face the best he could. as you pull your head off of his shoulder, he smiles at you and wipes some of the mascara off of your cheeks.

“hey, you’re too pretty to be crying like this.”

you laugh and pull further away from him so you’re sitting side by side. “you’re cheesy.”

“i meant it,” he says, a serious expression on his face. “you’re too good for him, okay? and cassie…who knows what she was thinking. but you’re too good for her friendship, too. you’ve got us. you’re going to be okay.”

you smile at him weakly. “i know. i don’t know what i would do without you,” you look down and study your hands. “i’m sorry for yelling at you. and getting so drunk. and making you play babysitter. you’re supposed to be having fun too.”

“spending time with you is fun,” he says. you bump his shoulder with yours weakly.

“stop being cheesy,” you both smile and sit in silence for a moment. he grabs your hand gently and squeezes it once before standing up.

“c’mon. let’s get you ready for bed.”

the next morning, you wake up with a pounding headache. you groan at the incoming sunlight from your windows, a sight that you usually adored in the mornings, but could not stand today. as you stand up to close the shades, you look on the floor by your bed and see a pillow and one of jeremiah’s blankets laid on the floor. he had slept in here last night. a rush of emotion runs through your body as you remember everything from last night. the bonfire, the text, jeremiah… it was a lot. and you were so embarrassed. you can’t believe that you ruined everyone else’s night with your meltdown. especially jeremiah’s. he was too good to you, that was for sure. you quickly close the window shades and slump back into your bed. as you’re deciding whether to get up or to just die there, you hear a soft knock on the door.

“come in,” you call out, your face buried in your pillow. you hear soft footsteps before feeling the covers lifted up beside you and someone slip into your bed. you look up and see belly laying there, studying you. “you okay?” you ask her. she nods.

“are you?”

you groan and bury your face back into your pillow. “no. i’m going to die.”

she laughs lightly and pulls your hair from your face and begins to braid it. “you’re not going to die. that’s just the hangover. jere’s making you some hangover goop smoothie. says it’s supposed to help.”

“lovely,” you say sarcastically and belly snorts. jeremiah always had the weirdest, healthiest recipes, the kind of stuff that you knew was good for you but it made you gag just from the scent. you never had a hangover this bad before, so you had never tried this specific recipe. you really hoped it would work.

“(y/n)?” belly says quietly after a few moments of silence as she ties the braid in your hair.

“hm?”

“what happened with peter?”

you roll over to face her. “oh. yeah.”

“you don’t have to tell me,” she says. “steven just mentioned that something had happened and i figured maybe you wanted to talk about it.”

“thanks bells,” you smile weakly at her. as you do, you look closer at her face and your eyes widen. “your cheek is bruised.”

her hand shoots up to touch her cheek. she smiles sheepishly. “oh. yeah.” she mimics you.

“what happened?”

belly shakes her head. “you first.”

you sigh and begin to explain the story of your night to her. how you didn’t get a text from peter all day until you were at the bonfire, how he sent you the video of him and cassie ‘on accident’, how you got super drunk to try to ignore it, how jeremiah had helped you through all of it. belly looks shocked by the end of your story and shakes her head, a look of sympathy on her face.

“oh (y/n) i’m sorry. i really thought he was a good one,” she says and you shrug. “and cassie! i mean, why would she ever do that to you?!”

“i dunno,” you admit. “i guess i don’t care to find out.”

“you don’t?”

“nah. they don’t deserve my time, right? better to just move on and never show weakness.”

belly sighs. “i guess… but, you’re allowed to be sad. she’s been your best friend forever. and you really liked peter. just, don’t dismiss your own feelings. let yourself cry it out and then figure out the rest later.”

“you’re right,” you nod. “as always.”

she giggles and you rest your head on her shoulder. a few moments later, there’s another knock at your door, and steven peaks his head in. “can i come in?”

you pat an empty spot on the edge of the bed and he sits down, facing you and belly. “you guys okay?”

you nod, then look up at belly. she nods too. steven faces you. “i can kill peter if you want me to.”

“jeremiah’s got a big mouth,” you joke. they both nod in agreement.

“you could say that again,” belly says.

“we were all just worried about you,” steven admits. “and you, belly. you took a pretty nasty hit. you can’t step into a fight like that.”

you lift your head quickly (which caused some extreme nausea) and face belly. “belly?! what happened?!”

she sighs. “conrad got in a fight with some guy. i tried to help separate it and got an elbow to the face.”

“oh, shit,” you say gently, examining the bruise on her cheek. “you gotta be more careful.”

“i know,” she says. “i just didn’t think about it.”

you sigh and rest your head on her shoulder again, looking back at steven. “well, how was your night steven?”

he shrugs. “until the cops came, i had a great night. i hung out with shayla, she’s really cool.”

“yeah she is,” you giggle. “you know she’s gonna be a deb?”

“a deb?” he looks at you in shock. “i completely forgot that was a thing.”

“i’m gonna be a deb too, you know,” belly chimes in. steven shrugs.

“yeah, but you’re my sister. that’s not really my concern, is it? i gotta worry about the girl i like being a deb. what if she asks someone else to be her escort? oh god, what if she asks me?!” he stands up quickly, shaking his head. “i gotta go. i’m glad you guys are okay. i gotta go.”

you and belly watch as he leaves in panic and burst out into laughter. “oh my god he is so dramatic.”

you nod. “yeah he is.”

belly stands up from your bed and stretches, extending a hand out to help you up. “c’mon. let’s go investigate what jere’s making you. maybe it’ll really make you feel better.”

you follow her downstairs, your headache getting worse the more time you spend upright. it takes everything in you not to retreat back up to your bed to lay there forever. instead, you enter the kitchen behind belly and are hit with the smell of pancakes.

“there she is!” jeremiah exclaims, a wide grin on his face as he spots you. he spins around, grabbing a cup of green smoothie — maybe? — and hands it to you. “my special recipe. will kill any sign of a hangover that you have. and pancakes on the griddle, if you’re up for them!”

you take the cup graciously and smile at his energy. “thank you, jere. i’ll let you know after i drink…this.”

he nods, smile still on his face as he turns back to his pancakes. “belly, you want some pancakes?”

“yes please,” she says, walking past the two of you, her eyes lingering on conrad, who was laying on the couch, his arm over his eyes. he also had a cup of green-smoothie-thing, but it sat untouched on the coffee table. jeremiah follows her gaze and scoffs.

“he’s ridiculous. if he would just drink the juice, he would feel so much better.”

you look at your own cup in your hand. “so…juice, is what you’re calling this?”

jeremiah laughs and gently ruffles your hair. “it may not look great, but i swear by it. drink it, (y/n). you’ll feel better!”

“whatever you say,” you take a small sip of the beverage. to your surprise, it really was not terrible. it had hints of almost every vegetable and fruit you could think of, but somehow, it all went well together. you raise your eyebrows at jeremiah. “this is actually pretty good.”

“told ya!” he exclaims, flipping a pancake off of the griddle then reaching to turn it off. “alright ladies, pancakes right here. i gotta get to work, so enjoy these, please. don’t want them to go to waste!”

jeremiah grins at you then drops his voice, placing a hand gently on your arm. “you doing okay?”

you look up at him. “i’m okay. thank you, for everything. really. i would be lost without you.”

he shakes his head and rubs your arm gently. “you don’t have to thank me. just giving you the treatment you deserve.”

the two of you stare into each others eyes for just a moment, but to you that moment felt like forever. he had no idea the effect he had on you. he had no idea how desperately you wanted to be held by him again, how desperately you wanted to just kiss him so deeply with all of the feelings you’ve been suppressing for the past five years of your life. he would likely never know how you truly felt for him, and the thought of that made you sick all over again. it was not a good idea to keep thinking of him like that. it wasn’t good for your head or your heart. if anything were to happen, it would have happened by now. and after everything that just happened with peter, you weren’t sure you would be ready for anything for a long time. not that you had to be. not like he gave you reason to be…right?

“alright well,” he says, breaking the moment the two of you were sharing. “i’ll see you after work. drink that whole thing, plenty of water, and do some yoga or something. you’ll feel so much better.”

“okay.”

jeremiah gives you one last smile before he leaves. once he’s out the door, you turn to look at belly, who was staring at you, a pancake in her hand. “saw that.”

“saw what?” you ask. she gives you a knowing smile.

“(y/n), you are so blind. drink your juice.”

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