#my little cousin is gonna flip when he sees these | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

waitimcomingtoo · 10 months

Text

Interception

Pairing: Peter Parker x Best Friend!Reader

Synopsis: Flash’s pool party turns into a kissing party and Peter fears you’ll kiss someone else

Masterlist

“Hobo. Bride of hobo. Are you coming to my party Friday?” Flash said as he held up a bright orange flyer that had the details of a pool party at his house on it.

“What party?” Peter asked as he shut his locket.

“The party you weren’t invited to. Later suckers.” Flash laughed obnoxiously, flipped you both off, and then ran away. You and Peter looked at each other before shaking your heads in disbelief.

“Wow. I haven’t been called a sucker in…ever.” You realized.

“Me either. I thought it was one of those fake high school experiences that only happens in movies. Like a bully asking for your lunch money or dunking your head in a toilet.” Peter replied.

“Or making a volcano for the science fair.” You added, making Peter smile.

“Yeah. Exactly.” He said as he looked at you fondly for understanding him.

“So what are we gonna do Friday while the rest of our school goes to Flash’s super cool party?” You asked as you threw some books in your locker.

“Oh, we’re hanging out on Friday? I didn’t know that.” Peter blushed at your nonchalant invitation. You’d never hung out just the two of you before and the fact that it seemed like an obvious choice of plans for you made Peter happy.

“Well, duh. Neds definitely gonna be invited ever since him and Flash bonded over getting left behind on the field trip freshman year. We should do something.”

“Just you and me?” Peter asked with a hopeful smile.

“Yeah. It’ll be fun.” You smiled back and wondered if the thought of alone time was as exciting for you as it was for Peter.

“Maybe we can grab some ice cream and then hang out on my roof. It’s pretty nice up there once you scare the bats away.”

“I love that idea. It’s a date.” You replied without thinking. You face dropped when you realized what you called it while Peter turned bright red.

“Or whatever we want to call it.” You quickly added with a forced laugh.

“We can call it a date.” Peter shrugged, taking you by surprise. You smiled at him just as the bell rang.

“Well then it’s a date. Catch you later, P.” You squeezed Peters arm before going to your next class. Peter watched you leave with a dreamy smile on his face. This Friday, you’d finally be going on a date. Whether it was an ice cream date, a friend date, or a date date, he was just happy to be going with you.

The next day, Flash caught up to you on campus and walked with you to your next class.

“Hey, pookie. I would like to formally invite you to my pool party.” Flash said as he held out a flyer for his party.

“Really? What made you change your mind?” You laughed in surprise and took the flyer.

“I realized something and had a change of heart.” He replied.

“Oh yeah? What did you realize?”

“That inviting you gets I mean to see you in a bathing suit.” Flash said, making you laugh in shock.

“Gross. But thanks. For the invite, I mean. Not for the other thing.” You said and shoved the flyer in your backpack.

“You can bring Parker too. Since you two are dating or cousins or whatever.”

“Neither.” You chuckled. “But yeah, I’ll bring him.”

“Perf. See you Friday, my little cinnamon apple.” Flash blew you a kiss and walked away just as Peter approached you.

“What did he want?” Peter faked a laugh and hoped it hid the jealousy he felt when he saw Flash blowing you a kiss.

“Good news. Flash kindly extended the invitation to us.” You said and took the flyer out to show Peter.

“Oh, really? So we can go?” Peter asked and hoped he didn’t sound as disappointed as he felt. He could care less about a stupid party. He just wanted to be with you.

“Yeah. If you want.” You shrugged, also not really wanting to go. Your date with Peter sounded much more appealing.

“Sure. It’ll be fun.” Peter lied through a smile.

“Maybe we can still get ice cream after. Just the two of us.” You suggested, making Peters smile turn genuine.

“Yeah. If the party’s lame, we can just slip out and go on our date.” Peter said just to use the word “date” again. You smiled sheepishly and nodded your head.

“It probably will be lame. We can stay for the food and then have some real fun. Just me and you.”

“Ned will probably want to come with us, though.” Peter realized as his disappointment returned.

“Too bad.” You shrugged. “He can hang with us anytime. But he can’t come on our date.”

Peter grinned as you said everything he hoped you would. Your date was still on the table and he might even get to see you in a bikini before it. That was the only thing making either of you want to go to the party.

When Friday came, there was prep to be done. You and Peter went to your dorms after class and began to prepare for the evening ahead. Peter laid out all his swim trunks before trying them all on to see which one he could best impress you in. Meanwhile, you were looking in your floor length mirror and making an important decision.

“I’m gonna shave my entire body.” You whispered to yourself. When MJ came home from class a little while later, she found you covered neck to toe in shaving cream with a razor in your hand.

“Should I even ask?” She asked when you froze at the sound of her opening the door.

“Pool party.” You told her. “Peters gonna be there. I don’t want him to know I have body hair. He can’t see the hair on my upper thighs. He just can’t, MJ.”

“Every single person literally ever, including Peter, has body hair covering their entire body. He already knows you have hair on your thighs. Everyone does. Why do you have to do all this?” She couldn’t help but laugh as she gestured to your shaving cream covered body.

“Look, you don’t shave your armpits and that’s amazing and more power to you for not caring about society’s expectations for female body hair, but tonight, I do care. I care enough to need Peter to think I’m as sleek and slippery as an exfoliated baby dolphin covered in baby oil.”

“Fine. Give me a razor. I’ll do your back.” MJ sighed and held out her hand. You fist pumped before giving her a spare razor.

Peter was back in his room making sure he looked his best for you. He ended up in navy blue swim trunks and a fitted white T-shirt that you complimented once. He twirled around in front of his mirror and made sure everything looked right. When he was satisfied, he drenched himself in body spray, grabbed a towel, and headed to your dorm.

You rinsed off the shaving cream and put on a perfume that Peter said he liked once before changing into your bathing suit. You put your hair into two braids and threw a big shirt on over it just as Peter came knocking on your door. You gave MJ a look before throwing on a smile and opening the door.

“Hey, P. Oh, I like that shirt.” You complimented him as you leaned against your door.

“Oh, thanks.” Peter blushed even though he only wore that shirt for you. “I, uh, like your hair like that.”

“Thanks. I didn’t want the chlorine to dry it out.” You shrugged and tugged on one of your braids to draw attention to it.

“It’s cute.” Peter said in a weak voice, making your smile.

“Yeah? I’ll have to do it more often then.” You did your best to flirt. Peter laughed shyly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“You should. It looks really good on you.” He said without making eye contact. Something was most definitely in the air between you tonight and you both felt it. You touched your braid again not to draw attention to it, but to feel beneath your fingers what Peter was seeing.

“Damn. I thought the awkward friend hook up happens after the party. Should I leave?” MJ said from behind you. You hung your head in shame as Peter turned red.

“We’re leaving. Bye.” You gave her a look as you grabbed your bag and shut the door.

“Use protection! And I don’t mean sunblock.” She called after you from inside your dorm room.

“Oh my God. We need to get out of here.” You laughed in embarrassment and took Peters hand to pull him towards the elevator. Once you were in the elevator, you stood side by side and avoided eye contact since MJ had now made things awkward. You didn’t know how tonight was gonna go, but going to sleep as more than friends with Peter would be nice. Even if all that happened was a kiss, you’d be satisfied.

You and Peters hands bumped a few times as you walked to Flash’s house. You had a feeling in your gut that once you walked into this party, things were going to change. You could only hope they were changing for the better.

“Well look who it is. Frick and Frack. Welcome to my party.” Flash greeted you and Peter as you walked in through his gate. Flash’s house was naturally enormous and his pool looked like a lake. There was a water fall on one end, a diving board, and a tray of drinks going around on an inflatable table. Flash himself was in the tiniest pair of swim trunks you had ever seen. They were golden and had his name stitched across the butt, making you and Peter burst out laughing when you saw it.

“Hey Flash. Thanks for the invite.”

“My pleasure. Or, it will be once you drop that shirt.” Flash winked at you. “Anyways, hope you guys brushed your teeth before this.”

“Why?” You frowned. You had, of course, and so did Peter.

“Because this is a kissing party.” Flash said like it was obvious. Your eyebrows went up and you looked at Peter who was just as confused.

“Sorry, what? What the hell is a kissing party?” You laughed, thinking he was kidding.

“Duh. It’s a party where you kiss as a competition.” Flash rolled his eyes. “The person at the end of the party who kisses the most people wins.”

“Wins what?” Peter wondered.

“The Cuban Rizzle Crisis.” Flash shrugged. “You’re crowned Rizz Khalifa. The Rizzly Bear. You get a degree in Quantum Rizzics. You become the Rizzard of Oz. You star in Harry Potter and the Rizzoner of Azcaban. You feel me?”

There was a long, long silence as you and Peter stared at Flash. Flash’s gaze was piercing as he looked back at the two of you with no shame.

“What?” Peter said finally, making Flash roll his eyes.

“Just kiss as many people as you can and keep count.”

“But can’t multiple people win if they all kiss everyone at the party?” You pointed out.

“Not everyone plays.” Flash shrugged. “Plus, people are always coming and going. There is never a fixed amount of people here. And you can deny a kiss if you think the person is gross.”

“So you probably won’t get any kisses then.” Peter said, making you laugh.

“Suck my balls, Parker.” Flash scoffed before turning to you.

“By the way, cutie pie, that’s an open invitation.” He said with a wink.

“Hard pass.” You replied.

“All right. Let me know if you change your mind, pookie.” He winked at you again and you looked away.

“I won’t. And I don’t think I’m gonna play. I don’t really get down like that.” You told Flash. Peter internally sighed in relief. He had feared that you were gonna play and end up kissing other people while he had to watch. But luckily, you were on the same page.

“Me either.” Peter added. You looked at him in surprise before smiling.

“Fine. You two can just make out in the corner or call your grandma or something.” Flash grumbled.

“Again, not dating and not cousins.” You corrected Flash.

“Whatever. I don’t judge.” Flash held up his hands and walked away. Once you and Peter were alone again, you looked at each other and laughed.

“Kissing party? Come on. That’s not a real thing, is it?” Peter asked you.

“I think he got it from a movie or something. There’s no way people really do this. Imagine the germs. Bleh.” You stuck your tongue out and then pulled your shirt off. Peters whole world stopped as he saw you in a bathing suit for the first time since sixth grade. He didn’t realize how much he was staring until he heard you laugh uncomfortably.

“Peter? Are you still with me?” You asked and waved a hand in front of his face.

“Yeah. Sorry. I thought I saw a bug on your leg.” He lied before tugging his shirt off. You stared at him shamelessly until the shirt was over his head and then pretended you were looking somewhere else. It had slipped your mind that Peter got randomly jacked one day and he had just reminded you with a full view. You’d only ever seen his muscles through his occasional tight shirt but this was much more revealing than that. You snuck one more glance and gulped before throwing on a smile.

“Do you want to get in the water?” You asked. Being in the water mean you wouldn’t have to fight for your life trying not to stare at Peters body for a while.

“Sure.” He smiled and held out his arm. You wrapped your arm around his and walked over to the stairs of the pool.

“Ah it’s…not cold. It’s actually the perfect temperature.” You realized after bracing yourself for the cold pool water.

“Of course he has a heated pool.” Peter grumbled and walked in. You swam over to a spot near some people but also a little isolated. The people behind you were making out and once you both noticed that, you blushed.

“Wow. They’re earning points already.” You chuckled.

“I know. I wonder who’s gonna win.”

“Us. Definitely.” You joked, making Peter laugh.

“Oh, for sure. I’m already making a list in my head of all the people I’m gonna kiss.” He played along.

“Oh yeah? Who’s at the top of the list?” You asked as you swam closer to Peter. Peter looked at your lips and then into your eyes before smiling shyly.

“The list is actually just your name written a hundred times in your handwriting.” Peter joked. You smiled in shock and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Really? Tell me more about that?” You asked. Peter gulped and wasn’t planning on telling you anything. Instead, he’d show you how he felt by finally kissing you.

But before that could happen, Brad Davis swam over and tapped your shoulder.

“Hey, Y/n. I didn’t see you come in.” He smiled.

“Oh, yeah. Peter and I just got here.” You smiled in disappointment and let go of Peter.

“Cool, cool. So, I’m sure Flash told you what kind of party this is.” Brad said, making Peters senses go off. Brad wanted a kiss and as the captain of your schools basketball team, he might get it.

“He sure did. Which is when Peter and I told him we aren’t playing.” You said through a fake laugh to dilute the uncomfortable situation.

“Oh, my bad. I came over here to kiss you but I didn’t realize you guys were dating.” Brad said apologetically. You and Peter exchanged a look and he gulped.

“We’re not dating.” Peter forced a laughed as well.

“Ohhh. Cool. So I can kiss you?” Brad asked and moved closer. Peter felt white hot jealousy in his veins and looked at you to see what you were gonna do.

“Like I said, not playing.” You laughed awkwardly and moved away from him.

“No sweat. Let me know if you change your mind.” Brad smiled at you and swam back to his friends. Peter blew out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and looked at you. You had your hands over your mouth and wide eyes.

“Oh my God. That was so awkward. I need to get out of here.” You whispered to Peter.

“Let’s go get some food.” Peter suggested. You agreed and got out of the pool together. Peter put a hand on your back and got a towel for you so you could cover yourself when you went inside.

“Uh oh, my Virgin alarm is going off.” Flash said when you and Peter walked into the kitchen where a group of your classmates were. Peter rolled his eyes as Flash walked towards the two of you with his hand flat like a metal detector.

“Beep, beep, beep. I found them. I found the virgins.” Flash gasped as he waved his hand over you and Peter.

“Knock it off, Flash.” Peter grumbled as his face flushed.

“I had to. You two are the only ones not playing.” Flash replied. Everyone looked at you and you suddenly felt insecure for not participating.

“Really? I thought you said other people weren’t playing.” You asked.

“They dipped.” Flash shrugged. “Everyone here is a part of the game. Expect for Chastity Mary and Pete the Prude over here.”

“I’ll play.” You blurted just to make everyone stop staring at you like you were a giant loser. Peter looked at you in confusion and you gave him a stressed look.

“Me too.” Peter nodded to back you up. You didn’t actually want to play, but the peer pressure had gotten to you. That and the fact that this little game might be the perfect excuse to get Peter to kiss you.

“Oh, shit. You’re really playing? In that case…” Flash closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss you with his lips puckered. You picked a strawberry off the table and shoved it in his mouth while Peter laughed.

“Guys, Neds here.” One of the boys in the kitchen gasped.

“NED! NED! NED! NED!” Everyone funneled out of the kitchen in a mob while cheering for Ned.

“Did you know Ned had a cult following?” You asked Peter.

“Kinda. He’s famous around here ever since he got them to reinstate all day breakfast in the dining hall.” Peter explained.

“That was him? Shit, I’d cheer for him too.”

“I should go say hi to him. If he had time for old friends, that is.” Peter joked.

“Y/n, over here!” One of the girls in your grade came over and took your arm. You gave Peter an apologetic look as she pulled you away.

“I’ll catch up with you later!” You told him before disappearing back outside with the girl.

It was almost an hour before you and Peter were reuniting. Now that you were in the competition, Peter could not relax. He was on high alert all night as he tried to spot you in the large crowd. He couldn’t enjoy the party because he was too busy fantasizing about the worst case scenario of you kissing all the popular boys and falling in love with one of them. After you’d been mingling in your respective friend groups for a while, you spotted each other on either side of the pools waterfall. You swam under the waterfall and stayed close to the wall so you were protected by the wall of water but not getting wet.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” Peter smiled and swam to you.

“Have you?” You smiled in return and swam closer to him.

“I have. The boys started wrestling each other and I wanted to give it a go with you.” Peter joked. You laughed and swam even closer to him so that your chests were touching. A comfortable silence fell between you and the rest of the party fell away. You couldn’t really see or hear anyone outside of the waterfall so it felt like it was just the two of you.

“So have you kissed anyone yet?” Peter asked and held his breath.

“No. People keep asking me but I keep declining. I don’t think I’m winning tonight.” You clicked your tongue.

“Me either.” Peter laughed in relief.

“So you haven’t kissed anyone?”

“No. No one’s asked me.” He admitted.

“So kiss me.” You shrugged and held your breath for his response. Peter turned around and looked behind him but didn’t see anyone.

“Who are you talking to?” He asked you.

“You, you dingus.” You laughed. “I’m asking you.”

“You want to kiss me?” Peter asked in disbelief and pointed to himself. You nodded your head and Peter felt a panic rise in his chest.

“N-no.” Peter weakly stammered.

“No?” You asked as your eyebrows went up.

“Sorry. No, thank you. Is what I meant.” Peter corrected himself.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” You laughed awkwardly and swam back a little.

“Just because-“

“No, it’s totally cool.” You cut him off. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“I just-“

“I’m gonna go get a drink. See you later?” You smiled at him and quickly swam away. Peter was frozen under the waterfall as he processed what happened. Suddenly, Ned burst under the waterfall with urgency.

“Dude! What the hell was that?” He asked and swam to Peter.

“I panicked! I didn’t think she was gonna ask me that!” Peter whispered harshly.

“Why wouldn’t she? This is a kissing party!”

“Kissing parties aren’t real! That’s not a thing that exists. This is a made up concept. Think of the germs! You haven’t thought of the germs you bitch!” Peter exclaimed. Ned jutted in his back in surprise and Peter felt bad.

“Why are you yelling at me?” Ned whispered.

“Because I just blew my chances with Y/n and I’m angry!” Peter whispered back.

“Well why didn’t you kiss her?”

“Because.” Peter whined. “I don’t want our first kiss to be because of this gross game. I wanted it to be because we wanted it.”

“Dude, she hasn’t kissed a single person tonight. You’re the only one she asked.” Ned pointed out.

“Your tone makes me think you’re leading me to a profound conclusion.”

“Clearly she only agreed to play so she could kiss you. That’s why she’s been saying no to everyone else but asked you. She’s not playing the game. She just wanted to kiss you.” Ned said and smacked Peters chest.

“No. That would mean she likes me. And there’s no way she likes me.” Peter insisted.

“Then why would she agree to play this game if she was gonna say no to everyone but you?”

“Because she’s a silly goose? I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers, Ned. Maybe she was just being a silly little guy.”

“Dude, she’s likes you.” Ned groaned. “And she just shot her shot. And you shot her down.”

“That’s way too many shots.” Peter whispered in fear that Ned was right.

“You need to go smooch that girl before you lose her forever.” Ned told him.

“Oh God. Do you think that will happen? Do you think she’ll kiss somebody else?” Peter gulped and chewed his nails.

“Probably. If I’m right about her liking you, that means she just got rejected and is probably super hurt and embarrassed. She’ll be looking for someone to distract her and remind her that she’s desirable. Plus, I heard Brad and Flash are tied and Y/n is the only girl they haven’t kissed. If they get to her before you do, you’re done.”

“Oh God. I can’t let that happen.”

“You might be a little late for that. Turn around.” Ned looked guilty as he pointed over Peters shoulder. Peter turned to see you and Flash sitting on the edge of the pool together. You were laughing at something he was saying, making Peters stomach drop.

“Oh no! She can’t kiss Flash. I’ve never seen him apply chapstick once in his life. And he licked the back of the bus seat in fifth grade during a game of Truth or Dare so he’s definitely carrying some sort of disease.”

“I remember that. He picked truth and then randomly licked the seat top to bottom.” Ned recalled.

“She can’t kiss that mouth. He has cooties. He can’t give my beloved cooties.” Peter said as determination filled his body.

“You need to do that think football players do when they catch the ball that was thrown at a different player.” Ned told him.

“Interception?”

“No. That’s the show about sitting down your family member who has an addiction and sending them to rehab.” Ned waved his hand.

“That’s Intervention.”

“No, Intervention is the Tom Cruise movie where he goes to space and his daughter is Renesmee from Twilight.”

“For starters, I’m not really sure why you called her Renesmee “from Twilight” as if there is any other character in any other movie with that name, but you also just described the movie Intersteller. Which is with Matthew McConaughey, not Tom Cruise.” Peter corrected him.

“So what movie am I thinking of?” Ned wondered.

“Fuck if I know. I’ll be right back.” Peter said and swam over to you and Flash. He saw Flash starting to lean in and in a panic, grabbed a beach ball and threw it at him.

“Ow. What was that?” Flash looked around once the ball hit him in the head.

“Hey guys. What’s going on?” Peter smoothly slid into the convo.

“Hi, Peter.” You smiled shyly and then looked back at Flash.

“It was Inception.” Ned said suddenly as he joined Peters side. Peter face palmed and you just looked confused.

“What was Inception? What did that mean?” Flash asked in genuine confusion.

“The movie I was thinking of. Inception starring Leonardo DiCaprio. That’s what you have to do to Y/n.” Ned explained. He slowly turned and realized you were sitting right there on the pool edge and smiled sheepishly.

“Oh, hey Y/n. Lovely weather we’re having, no?” Ned asked.

“What about an inception?” You playfully narrowed your eyes at Peter.

“He means interception.” Peter mumbled in embarrassment.

“Intercept what?” You asked as you slipped into the pool to be closer to Peter.

“Your kiss with Flash.” Peter admitted as he looked into your eyes. His big brown eyes were full of guilt and you couldn’t stay mad even if you wanted to.

“Ew. You thought I was gonna kiss Flash?” You laughed. “Not after what he did to that bus seat in fifth grade. No offense, Flash.”

“Was it that bad? It tasted like dry Ramen.” Flash shrugged.

“Who eats dry Ramen?” Ned asked.

“People who question the status quo and reject the suffocating confines of the shell society puts us in.” Flash stated.

“What the fuck are you ever talking about?” You whispered to yourself.

“Who knows? Did I hear Y/n wanted to kiss little old me?” Flash batted his eyelashes and pretended to tuck hair behind his ear.

“No, you didn’t.” You told him.

“Wait, so you didn’t come over here to kiss Flash?” Peter asked you.

“Ew, no. Why would you ever think that?”

“Because you wanted to forget that I rejected you.” Peter said, making your eyes widen.

“You rejected Y/n?” Flash laughed in surprise. “That is an M.Night Shamelan level twist right there. That shocked me more than that one Black Mirror episode where it turns out he was a pedofile after I spent the whole episode feeling bad for him.”

“What are you talking about now?” You whined.

“I actually know what he’s talking about.” Peter admitted. “That episode was crazy.”

“Right? When the mom was like “Kids, Kenny? You were looking at kids?” I nearly threw my phone at my TV. On God. I was rooting for him. And best believe, that is the last time I will ever root for a white man.” Flash shook his head. Everyone in the pool was looking at you guys now and trying to peer into the conversation. There was an awkward silence and even more awkward eye contact before Flash spoke again.

“So why didn’t you want to kiss Y/n?” He asked Peter.

“I was kinda also wondering that.” You admitted and looked at Peter for answers.

“Can we talk somewhere else? In private?” Peter asked you quietly.

“You’re just gonna let me hear that much of the conversation and then leave at the end? Talk about edging.” Flash scoffed.

“Fine. He can hear. In fact, everyone should hear this.” Peter decided and got up on the pool steps.

“Hey, everyone. I have an announcement.” Peter said as he cupped his hands around his mouth.

“I like Y/n. As more than a friend.” He announced as he pointed to you. You smiled in delight while everyone else gave each other the side eye.

“No one gives a shit, Parker.” A boy shouted after a long moment of silence.

“Everybody knew that.” Another girl added.

“Do a flip!” Someone shouted.

“He thinks he’s the main character or something, I swear.” Someone else muttered.

“Oh. I thought that would get a bigger reaction.” Peter frowned and walked back down into the pool to go back to you.

“You like me?” You smiled softly.

“I do. A lot.” Peter admitted with the same soft smile.

“Then why didn’t you kiss me?”

“Because I didn’t want our first kiss to be apart of this stupid game.” Peter told you. “I also wanted to be wearing underwear the first time we kissed. I guess I’m picky.”

“I’m never wearing underwear. Ever. Even when I wear jeans.” Flash said, reminding you that he was there. You turned your entire body to look at him because of how shocked you were by that statement.

“Why not?” You asked him.

“It blocks the flow of my mojo.” He said and pointed to his crotch before moving his hand it and outward flow. You blinked a few times and then turned back to Peter.

“Peter, I only played the game because I wanted to kiss one person. You.” You told him.

“That’s why I started playing. But when you came up to me and asked me, I was so caught off guard that I panicked and said no.”

“Is your guard up now?” You asked him.

“Probably not. Peter could never afford a guard. Get it? Because he’s poor.” Flash said and then laughed at his own joke. Peter rolled his eyes before looking at you again.

“If you asked me again, I’d say yes.” He told you.

“I’m not gonna ask you again. But that’s good to know.” You smiled at him, making his smile drop.

“Y/n, over here.” A girl on the other side of the pool called.

“See you around.” You waved to Peter before swimming to the girl. Peter and Flash stood there in shock as the processed what had happened.

“Dude, that was brutal.” Flash said. “That was worse than the staph infection that hospitalized me after I licked that bus seat.”

“I can’t believe she didn’t ask me.” Peter whispered in disbelief. “And who the fuck keeps saying “Y/n, over here?””

“I can’t believe you rejected her, announced to the whole party that you liked her, and then she rejected you! That’s gold, man. You can’t make this stuff up. Anyways, later loser.” Flash hopped into the pool and started to swim away. He suddenly popped up in front of Peter, this time, with goggles on this time.

“Unless you wanted to play mermaids?” Flash asked him. Peter stared at him for a minute and then nodded.

“I do, actually. Yeah.”

“Amazing. My tail is blue. What’s yours?”

“Please let me be blue.” Peter whined. “I just got rejected by my best friend.”

“Fine. I’ll be orange.” Flash rolled his eyes.

Once the party had started to fizzle out, Peter got out of the pool and went over to where he had left his stuff. You walked over to him and he tensed up.

“Hey.” You said as you approached him.

“Oh, hi.” Peter said cautiously. He had no idea what you were here for after all of the bizarre interactions you had tonight.

“Towel?” You asked and offered him a fresh towel.

“Yeah, thanks.” He accepted it and eyed you skeptically before drying off.

“You should really try to ring your hair out. Chlorine might damage those curls.” You said and nodded towards Peters hair.

“Oh, thanks.” He said and rubbed his towel all over his head. When he was finished, he noticed you staring at him with a fond smile.

“What?” He wondered.

“You missed a spot. Here, let me help.” You said and took the towel. You rubbed it all over his head to dry his hair and then moved it to reveal his face. He was blushing, like always, but had a sad look in his eyes. You let the towel fall to around his neck and then pulled it to bring him closer so you could kiss him.

“Did you really think I was gonna kiss you for the first time with Flash Thompson sitting between us?” You asked once you pulled away.

“So that’s why you didn’t ask me again?” Peter smiled as he connected the dots.

“I’m like you. I wanted it to be special.” You shrugged.

“I think it would be even more special if it happened again.” He replied. You laughed and kissed him again, which he was ready for this time.

“So.” He said once you pulled away. “You still down for that ice cream date?”

“It’s a date.” You nodded and smiled.

“I know. I literally just said that.”

“Don’t ruin the moment, P.” You warned him.

“Fine.” He smiled. “Let’s go on our date.”

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl

@jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow

@unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever

@undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild

@canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx

@quaksonhehe @kelieah @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174

@unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl

@marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker angst #peter parker x best friend!reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

4K notes · View notes

emchant3d · 2 months

Text

little blurb based off my son of the mafia Steve au - posted this on twt this morning and I want it over here too 🥰 I literally only have this and one other little bit written idk what this will turn out to be but have it anyway!!

Steve’s a morning person. Eddie is decidedly not. And yeah, Steve loves staying in bed with him, but the curtains in Eddie’s room are thin and the sun is cutting right across his eyes in a way that he can’t ignore, so he carefully extracts himself from the bed. It’s a delicate process, gently taking Eddie by the wrist to move his arm from around Steve’s waist, moving slowly to not jostle the mattress and startle his love awake.

Steve's making breakfast when he hears a shuffle of feet behind him. He turns, giving Wayne a little smile. "Morning, Mr. Munson," he says, nodding towards the coffee pot and looking back to the stove. "Coffee's made."

Wayne gives a thankful little hum, and moves in silence, the only sound the soft splash of black coffee hitting a ceramic mug and a slow sip.

He can feel Wayne's eyes on his back. He flips the bacon, poking it gently with the spatula, and he waits.

"I like you, Steve," Wayne eventually says. His voice is gruff and slow, and Steve smiles at him over his shoulder, knowing what's coming next. "But," and there it is.

Steve straightens, turning to face him and rolling his shoulders back. "I don't know how good you are for Eddie. He's been through a lot, son. And you...well. We're not gonna stand here and act like you and your family don't come with a whole world of baggage." Steve hums his agreement.

"You're right," he says, nodding. "But which side of my family is the problem?" Wayne's jaw twitches.

"Ed's got enough experience with breakin' the law for a lifetime," he bites out, and that's an answer in and of itself. Steve smiles again, formal, small.

"I'm not involved in my grandfather's family business," he says, rote and regular, the same line he's been taught to use since he was a child.

"Don't give me that shit, boy." He points at him, mouth set in an angry frown. "You think I don't know your mama? You think I didn't see you runnin' round with your cousins when they'd visit?"

The eggs need to be flipped. He turns back to the stove, grabbing the spatula and keeping his eyes on the food as he takes a moment to think.

"I understand your concern," he says evenly, and Wayne scoffs behind him. "But I promise you, Mr. Munson," he picks up a plate, sliding two fried eggs onto it and adding a healthy serving of fried potatoes, "I won't let anything happen to him." He turns, meeting Wayne's gaze and handing him the plate.

Wayne stares him down, silent. His eyes pinch, and he swallows hard. "How can you promise that?" he asks, and Steve's smile goes sharp.

"In my experience, it's best to not ask questions you don't want an answer to."

His eyes flick up when he catches a bit of movement, and he smiles as Eddie shuffles into the kitchen. "Morning, baby," he says, and Eddie grumbles at him, side-steps Wayne to worm his way into Steve's arms. Steve laughs and gives him a gentle squeeze, kissing his bedhead.

"Sit at the table," he murmurs into his hair, "I'll make you a plate."

"Coffee," Eddie demands, and Steve's smile widens.

"Coming right up."

"Kiss," he demands next, and Steve beams at him, gently lifting Eddie's chin to press a soft kiss to his mouth. He lingers for just a moment, giving a gentle bite to Eddie's lower lip and feeling Eddie smile into it.

He pulls away then, sleep-rumpled and gorgeous, and Steve flicks his eyes to Wayne, gauging his expression.

He doesn't look happy. Eddie's too tired to notice, though, and soon the two of them are talking quietly at the table while Steve fixes Eddie's coffee the way he likes and fries two sunny side up eggs.

Wayne doesn't like Steve, and that's fine. He doesn't blame him, not a bit. He understands.

He sets the plate in front of Eddie, brings the coffee pot to top off Wayne's mug, and knows regardless of how Wayne feels, he isn't going anywhere. Not unless Eddie asks.

And he's going to make damn sure that Eddie never asks.

#steddie #mafia son steve #steve & wayne #based on the idea that wayne does NOT want eddie involved with steve #wayne likes him well enough but that doesn't mean he wants eddie tangled up in whatever the harrington boy and his mom have going on

543 notes · View notes

fitzells · 9 months

Note

request for conrad bringing his girlfriend to the boardwalk in e4 with the group??? maybe a distraction kiss during the laser tag game so bellys team wins instead

i’m like a conrad fisher blurb machine. seriously. requests still open for all characters. hope i did this justice!!!! belly conklin i love u and ur need to win everything u are the love of my life. this NOT PROOFREAD! and not written very well i can do better trust. ok bye.

You like seeing him happy. It suits him. His entire face just lights up the minute his lips contorts into a grin, it’s contagious. He needed this day, with his friends. With Jeremiah. With you. He really needed you here in Cousins; but Conrad Fisher is not known for being vulnerable, he’s not even remotely close to an open book. So, a couple of days ago, when he opened the front door to be greeted with you, Jeremiah and Belly; it took all of his strength to stop himself from breaking down on the spot.

He hadn’t seen you in a while, and you both blame it on the distance; really, you do. That’s why you love summer so much. Cousins. The beach-house. It’s just for you and Conrad; for a little while, it’s just magical. He knows he could be putting more of an effort in, but he really doesn’t want you to see how low he gets. You’re his sunshine; and he really doesn’t want to dampen that.

You were tucked into his chest now, peering up at him and feeling the pure serenity rushing through your veins at the sight of him smiling. You love him so much it hurts.

“Laser tag!” Belly snaps you out of your daze, her fiery competitiveness making you jolt a little. “Hey, Conrad; hands off my girl. No mind games, I’ve got my eye on you.”

She gestures for you to stand over with her, Taylor and Skye. Taylor narrows her eyes at Conrad, and sends you a happy little grin as she reaches her hand out for you to grab at. You shrug your shoulders, swivelling your head away from your boyfriends attempt to kiss you a quick goodbye; and all of your friends laugh loudly at the rejection.

“Yeah, Conrad.” You snide. “No mind games.”

He flips you off.

“We actually don’t need mind games. We’re simply the better team.” Steven declares. Conrad and Jeremiah yell out agreements as the three of them wrap their arms around each other.

You spin on your heel and face your three teammates. “Four against three. We have an advantage he—“

Conrad boos loudly. “You have no advantage.”

“Ignore him.” Belly chimes in, the two of you standing before Taylor and Skye. You nod. “We have to beat them. Game face on; in it to win it. Team Belly for life.”

“Oh please, that’s the worst pep talk I’ve ever heard!” Your boyfriend laughs. Steven and Jeremiah spew out words of agreement.

You raise your eyebrows. “Okay, Fisher. You wanna trash talk? Because remember that night I went to visit you and your dorm hall was empty and you wanted to—“

His face falls, and turns bright red. “Alright! Let’s play.”

Belly pulls you in for a hug. “Hit him where it hurts, I like it. Also.. I’m gonna need to hear that story later.”

You grin.

The game is actually not as lighthearted as one would think. So, maybe you’re all in your late teens; and maybe it’s a game aimed for six year olds’ birthday parties, regardless; you have a competitive streak that could possibly be labelled a little toxic. You need to win, badly. You’ve hit Steven and Jeremiah, easily. Your main target is Conrad; and you can’t seem to find him anywhere. Until you do, and you smile sweetly.

“Hi.” You whisper. He smiles and greets you back.

You hold your hands up in surrender. “I come in peace.”

You get a little laugh from him; and he shakes his head. You melt a little. “You know, you’re cute when you’re all competitive. Maybe slightly hot, too.”

You gasp. “Only slightly?”

“Super.”

“If I promise not to shoot, will you kiss me? Please.” You hit him with the puppy dog eyes and suddenly he finds himself not even caring about this game anymore. He loves you so much it makes him feel ill.

“Promise you won’t shoot?”

“Promise I won’t shoot.”

He pulls you in by your waist and kisses you softly, then a little harder. Your hands find his hair and you stand up on your tiptoes to deepen it. This is way too lovey dovey for an arcade. You fear not even Cam Cameron could prevent you guys from getting kicked out if some overprotective mother stumbles upon you.

He’s zapped in the back, and he freezes. Grimacing in aggravation when he hears Belly’s evil cackle from a few feet behind him. She doesn’t stop zapping, maybe enjoying it a little too much. You bite down on your bottom lip to trap your laughter.

“You promised.” He whines.

“Promised that I wouldn’t shoot. Unfortunately, Belly is a force to be reckoned with. The woman cannot be contained.” You shrug, and Belly hits him with a yeah, suck it Conrad.

He sighs. “So that was planned, then.”

“Yes and no.”

He falls in to step with you as Belly races forward to claim your spot as the winning team. “And no?”

“I was told to kiss you. Just not like that. That was..” Your voice trails off. “Wow. That was just wow.”

He laughs, and you laugh with him. “I love you, you know that? Like a lot.”

“Good. You should love me.” You exclaim, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m the world's best girlfriend.”

He nods, pushing the stray hairs on your face behind your ears. “You are. Seriously.”

You kiss him again, this time there’s no ulterior motive. You’re just sickeningly in love.

#conrad fisher imagine #conrad x reader #conrad fisher fluff #Conrad fisher blurb #conrad fisher smut #Conrad fisher fic #tsitp #the summer I turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty conrad

1K notes · View notes

tieronecrush · 9 months

Text

hot & heavy

chapter ten: a hidden gem, my own goldmine

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 10k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, ESTABLISHED relationship FINALLY, spanish cause joel is latino, fingering, unprotected p in v, dirty talkkk king joel miller, soft (and soft dom) joel, possessive joel, mentions of depression diagnosis and symptoms, struggling with self, discussion of co-parenting, angst, MAJOR doubt! and a slumber party! yay!

a/n: thank you as always to the bestie/cousin/sister wife/sweet, sweet gf @northernbluess for beta-reading this chapter, seriously i can't write without you so you're stuck with me. also this chapter is a little heavier in spanish then before, so if there are any corrections needed, please comment or message me! i went through multiple translations to try to find the best/most common, but things are bound to slip through the cracks.

Joel’s been catching up with some chores around the house this evening after Sarah’s gone to bed: dishes are washed and put away, counters wiped down and floors mopped. He reset the living room after he put the laundry in the dryer, settling onto the couch with a long sigh. Hands rub at his tired eyes, muscles aching for his bed but he is determined to stay up until you text him that you’re back at your friend’s house safe.

A few of your friends from college ended up with jobs in Austin, and tonight you’d all arranged to go out downtown. You had, sweetly, invited Joel to tag along but when you mentioned that the only other guys there would be boyfriends of your friends that were your age, he politely declined. Well, he used his daughter as an excuse because he didn’t want to admit that he was a little insecure about the age difference, even still.

It’s not even a large one, you’re twenty-five and he’s thirty-three, but with a nearly ten year old kid and his own business, he’s willing to bet he’s in a much different place in life than your friends' significant others. And if there isn’t a lot of common ground, Joel knows he’s not the most social or conversational.

Resting his eyes, his head rolls back onto the couch while the TV drones on about the latest Astros game. A short buzz from his phone in his pocket peels his eyes open, yawning quietly as he fishes the device out and flips it open.

FROM: Mariposa

Cn u pcik me up pLs????

While deciphering your drunk text, another couple are delivered and he keys down to see them as he chuckles at the antics.

I miiss u

Eveynoe is w their BFs n I wnt mine

Plesaseeeeeee J

Before he can type a response to you, an incoming call blocks out his screen, his thumb hitting the accept button quickly and bringing the phone to his ear.

“Feelin’ alright, Mari?”

A hiccup on the other line makes him laugh quietly again, your voice coming in over the music and people in the background, “No, not alright. M’sad.”

“Why’re you sad, sweet girl?”

“Cause you’re not here. Every—everybody’s…No I didn’t want a vodka water, gross! I wanna vodka soooooda with lime…Oops, sorry J. What was I saying?” A giggle from your end pulls a smile on his face, only slightly worried at your level of intoxication.

“You were telling me why you’re sad.”

“Right! M’sad cause all my friends have got their boy—” One hiccup. “Boyfriends here. And you’re aaaallllll the way at home.” Another hiccup. “I wanna be home with you.”

“I see. Well, I don’t want you to be sad, darlin’, so m’gonna come pick you up. How’s that sound?”

He hears a gasp into the phone and your voice gets quieter, imagining you holding the phone or turning your head away to a nearby friend.

“He’s coming! Jus’ to pick me up though, we gotta get back for Sar—Sarah…Yeah, she’s so cute…Well, yeah duh, he’s a DILF…I mean, to me I guess he’d be a DIAF…‘Dad I Am Fucking’…Oh, shit!” There’s a rustling as he laughs to himself overhearing your conversation, a smug smile on his face from you bragging to your friends. “M’sorry, J, god I totally forgot I was on the phone!” You punctuate your sentence with an incredulous laugh before quieting down to hear Joel.

“That’s alright, Mari. M’gonna drop Sarah with Tommy and then come and get you, okay? Can you tell me where you are?” Joel is already standing from the couch, grabbing his keys from the entryway before making his way upstairs to get Sarah into the car.

“Ummm…One sec!” The line rustles again while he stands at the top of the stairs. “Okay, we’re at that place on 11th, Nickel City.”

“Yeah, I know where that is, sweetheart. Be there soon, okay?”

“Okay. Tha—” One last hiccup. “—nks, J.”

“Anytime, amor. Anytime.”

With Sarah dropped off at Tommy’s, Joel goes into town to pick you up. It takes another twenty minutes from Tommy’s place, finding a parking spot not too far from the bar. He slips in the door and starts to comb his eyes over the crowd, most people stepping out of his way from his intimidating frame while he weaves through the masses.

Spotting you off to the side at a high-top table, some friends he recognizes from your photos dotted around the surface as well. You’re wrapped up in a conversation with the person next to you while you sit on a stool, Joel’s eyes finally landing on the person you’re talking to. It’s another man, about his height, maybe a few inches shorter. He’s got light hair, a clean-cut look with some fancy shirt on. Clearly, the guy is flirting with you, standing closer and leaning an arm around the back of your chair. Knowing how drunk you sounded over the phone, it occurs to him that you likely don’t even realize this guy’s body language, a primal possessiveness taking over his judgment.

He’s waited years for you. There’s no way in hell he isn’t putting on a show for this guy to send him a message.

Joel rolls his shoulders back, chest raising with the corrective posture. He saunters over to the table, politely smiling and waving as your friends must recognize him and welcome him to the group. He walks right up to the other side of your chair, placing a hand on your lower back and brushing against the skin exposed by the tank top you’re wearing.

A small gasp exhales from you with the surprise contact, turning your head and beaming when you see him. The look makes the wings of his butterfly flap faster, beating in time with his heartbeat.

“You’re here! M’so happy to see you.” He matches your smile before he is crushed in a hug, your arms around his neck. Unraveling from each other, you turn back toward the other man, before one of your other friends comes over to tell you something, pulling you away but still within arm’s length for Joel to keep his hand on you.

Joel reaches his hand out toward the man, “Nice to meet you…”

“Colton.”

“Nice to meet you, Colton. Are you one of the college friends?”

Colton gives a weak handshake to Joel, shaking his head with a laugh, “No, actually, never met any of ‘em until tonight. Well, except Taylor. M’relatively new to town, met Taylor through work, so you know how it is. Trying to make some connections.”

Joel has to hold back his eye roll, annoyance clear on his face at the skirting around that this Colton is doing. Joel’s heard it before from Tommy — going up to a girl and using the ‘new in town’ line to get a conversation started and to hopefully get them to leave with you to ‘show you around’.

Mine. You’re mine, he repeats to himself, the jealousy pumping in his veins.

“So’re you one of the college friends? Or an Austin friend?” Colton makes polite conversation while you turn in Joel’s arm and wrap your own around his back. Tugging on his t-shirt the fingers of one of your hands slip under the material and skim across his skin. Joel clears his throat, chuckling dryly as he keeps his gaze on Colton.

“Uh, not quite. M’the boyfriend.” His head nods to his side to you, a tight, smug smile on his face as he watches the gears in Colton’s head turn.

It’s not happening for him tonight. Or ever.

“Oh shit! You must be Joel! We’ve been waiting for you. I’ve just been making sure she’s had some water and didn’t wander off before you got here. She’s been talkin’ about you all night, made me think about how many times I’ve drunkenly ranted about my girlfriend.”

“Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, Taylor’s my girlfriend — she’s the one with blonde hair right across the table.” Colton beams down the way as Taylor makes eye contact with him, waving to the woman as she smiles back at him.

The man is a golden retriever. And Joel thought he was some douchebag trying to hook up with his girlfriend. Joel opens his mouth to apologize for his cold behavior, but before he can your head pops up from his chest, grabbing his attention. Hands at his back scratch your nails against his skin, humming contently as you press a sloppy kiss to his jaw.

Colton considers his duties relieved and goes to find his girlfriend before Joel can thank him, leaving the two of you at the end of the table. Joel pulls his chin in to look down at you, smiling softly and moving a hand to the back of your neck.

“You alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, jus’ happy you’re here. Missed you.”

Joe presses a kiss to your forehead and you hum again, swaying sleepily in his arms. “M’glad you called me, Mariposa.”

“Can we go home now please?”

“Yeah, Mari, ‘course we can. You want me to bring you to your house?” His hands move to your sides, running up and down against the fabric of your tank top. You hook your arms around his neck and shake your head, a tiny “humpf” accompanying it.

“No, home.”

“My house?”

“Yes! Home. Wanna sleep in your bed, s’comfier than mine.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I can bring you home.”

A warm stirring is felt in his chest, steadying you in your stance and keeping an arm around your waist. You say goodbye to your friends, all of them waving to you both as Joel steers you through the bar and to his truck outside.

Joel calls Tommy on the way home, his brother telling him that Sarah’s out cold and he can bring her back in the morning when she wakes up. He presses for an answer about why Joel had to drop Sarah off, but Joel ignores Tommy’s question again and hangs up.

Safely back at his house, he helps you out of the truck and inside, walking behind you on the stairs as you stumble. It’s like a baby deer learning to walk — he’s never seen you this drunk, tipsy, sure, but never at this level. A smile crosses his face as he imagines a moment like this in the future with you, maybe after a night out for the two of you or maybe even after your wedding.

Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, tripping over your feet at the landing and recovering on your own. His hand hovers at your back, ready to break your fall if it happens.

“I’m alright, m’alright. Jus’ tripped a lil’.”

To be safe, Joel holds your hips the rest of the way up and into his room, sitting you on the edge of the mattress and gathering a t-shirt from his drawers for you to wear to bed.

“No, I want the funny one that I like,” you whine, waving a hand back at his dresser. Joel shakes his head to himself, chuckling about the fact that you still have a preference for sleep attire.

He grabs the shirt you’re talking about, a worn and washed one that he got as a joke from Tommy a few years ago. He normally wears it to sleep himself, if he wears one, or around the house if he knows he won’t be going out. It’s faded black now, yellow text that reads ‘I do know it all…I just can’t remember it all at once.’

Upon finding it in his drawer last week, you laughed hysterically and made him put it on for a Polaroid. You’ve also requested it every time you’ve stayed over since.

In front of you again, with the correct shirt, he kneels down and pats the outside of your thighs. “Can you stand for me, sweetheart?”

Using his shoulders as support, you stand on sea legs, swaying back and forth as he looks up at you. “Can I take off your skirt, darlin’?”

“Yeah, you can, cutie.” You giggle and sway wider, playing with the curls at the top of his head, turning his head to your will as he unbuttons and unzips your denim skirt. “You got some grays mixed in here, mister.”

“M’getting old, Mari. No surprises there.” He chuckles and helps you lift each foot to step out of the tube of material completely, rubbing a hand on your calf before he stands in front of you again. He’s faced with a pout, brows knit together in anger.

“You’re not getting old. You’re literally in your thirties. Not old.”

“Say that to the gray hairs then, sweetheart.”

“Gray hairs—“ Hiccup. “Mean nothing ‘sides the fact that you’re gonna be a silver fox. My silver fox.”

A content smile, closed lips, pulls the corners of your mouth up. Heavy eyelids cover your irises halfway, the sight of you so drunkenly drowsy is utterly adorable to him. Fingers grip the bottom of your tank top, kissing your forehead.

“Can I take off your shirt?”

“Take it all off, bay-beeee.” Your swaying causes you to stumble again, Joel catching you before you fall back onto the bed. Once you’re steady, your own hands slip under his shirt, running over his tummy while you press sloppy kisses into his neck. “Mm, want you so bad, J.”

“I love you, darlin’, and you know I want you all the time, but not tonight. You need to get some water and go to sleep. For a while.” A defeated sigh blows against his skin, rocking back on your heels and Joel holding your weight to bring you to stand straight again. “Arms up, baby.”

You comply without another ask, lifting your arms as if they’re heavy weights, allowing Joel to tug the material over your head. With a slight slap sound, your arms drop back against your sides. Joel takes off your bra for you and gets you into his t-shirt, giving you a small kiss. He walks you to your side of the bed, tucking you in.

“Be right back, sweet girl. Gonna get you some water and then you can go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.” You sigh, nesting into the sheets and duvet. Your eyes close, soft hums filling the room as he runs downstairs, filling a glass of water and grabbing ibuprofen to leave at your bedside for the morning.

Returning to his room, he coaxed you to sit up, having you drink half the glass. He changes for bed himself, stripping down to his boxers and slipping under the covers, pulling you closer with an arm around your waist.

“G’night, Mari.”

“Mm, night, J. Thanks for coming to get me and bringing me home. Like sleeping next to you lots more than a sleepover with my friends…”

“Like sleeping next to you too, Mari. Missed you all night. M’glad you’re home now.”

“Nightie night.”

“Nightie night, sweet girl. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” He pinches your side playfully, breathing a laugh out of his nose at your yelp and squeezing you closer. With a kiss to the top of your head, he lulls you to sleep with his fingertips running up and down your spine, thoughts going right back to those flash images of a future with you.

“Love you, Mariposa.”

There’s an ache all over your body, eyes too sore and crusted over with sleep to peel open when you first wake up. Light peeks through the curtains, shining onto the bed and directly at your face, making you groan into the pillow and attempt to roll over.

Unfortunately, your body is telling you to get up, find water or pain meds or some coffee, you really wouldn’t be all too picky at this moment. Rolling over onto your back, you reach out to your side and feel bedding underneath your hand, pouting to yourself when you finally open your eyes and see Joel’s gone. As you sit up, you can hear the shower turn on in the bathroom attached to his bedroom and you can hear some quiet humming from the other side of the door. A smile crosses your face, the idea of a shower nestling itself in your mind and feeling like it would be the only thing to get rid of all of this hangover.

On the nightstand next to you, there are two burgundy-colored tablets and a half glass of water, vaguely remembering last night when Joel made you drink the other half before going to sleep. Washing down the ibuprofen with the entirety of the water, you start to recount what you can recall from the night before, cringing internally when you get to the point that Joel showed up to pick you up. You don’t really remember getting home, but looking down at the t-shirt you’re wearing clues you in that Joel must have done most of the work to get you into bed.

Slipping out from under the duvet, you set the empty glass back down and slink over to the bathroom, twisting the knob and opening the door. The squeak of the hinges breaks your sneaking attempt and Joel’s humming stops.

He speaks up over the sound of the water, “Mariposa? That you?”

“I sure hope no one else would be sneaking into the bathroom this morning. Unless you have another drunk girlfriend you had to pick up from the bar,” you laugh at the self-deprecating joke, picking up your toothbrush and squeezing out a dollop of toothpaste to clean your teeth. And to get rid of the taste of tequila lingering on your tongue.

The shower curtain slides back a bit and Joel’s head sticks out, goofy grin on his face with curls hanging on his forehead. “Nah, just got the one. How’re feeling this morning?”

“Like I got beat up by a bunch of vodka sodas and a couple of tequila shots.” Your words are muffled around the foamy toothpaste, leaning back against the counter facing him.

“Yeah, you were pretty drunk, darlin’. But it was honestly cute, you’re a funny drunk.”

Turning back toward the sink, you fold over the sink to spit out and rinse your mouth out, groaning softly, “God, please tell me I didn’t do or say anything embarrassing.”

“Nothin’ too bad, but there were some things that I will be committing to memory,” Joel laughs and winks, the noise getting louder as you groan again and roll your head back.

“This is the worst part about getting drunk. People holding stupid shit you said over your head.” Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you look at Joel across the few feet separating you and watch him shake his head and grin sweetly.

“I’ll tell you what you said, sweetheart, but I think you’re in too physically fragile of a state right now.”

“God, you are right about that,” you sigh and shake your head, propping yourself off the counter you were leaning on, crossing the tiles to be only a foot from Joel’s face, “Can I join you? A shower sounds like exactly what I need right now.”

He nods quickly, halfway through the question and you chuckle at the antics, pulling the t-shirt over your head and slipping off your panties to leave both in a heap with Joel’s clothes. He opens the curtain for you and steps back toward the other wall while you close the curtain and drag yourself under the stream of water.

A sigh relaxes your chest and shoulders, closing your eyes as you let the warm water run all over you. Joel’s hands brush across your skin, the feeling of his work-worn palms sending a tingle of excitement down your skin and chilling your body even under the hot water. His thumbs cup under your breasts while the rest of his fingers splay out on your ribcage, tips of them toward your back as he holds you closer to him.

“Mm, you’re so beautiful, d’you know that, mi Mariposa? La mujer más hermosa del mundo (The most beautiful woman in the world),” Joel mumbles against your skin when he nestles into the crook of your neck, curving his back to fit with you perfectly. His hands wander from your ribs, circling around your back and drifting down to the swell of your ass where they settle with a gentle squeeze.

“I think I’m getting better at Spanish 'cause I understood that. And it was very sweet, thank you, J. I think you’re the most beautiful man in the world.” You giggle and feel Joel exhale a chuckle against your neck, peppering slow and spaced kisses along your shoulder.

“You also told me something else about what you think of me last night. Well, it was to one of your friends but you were still on the phone with me so I heard,” he stretches to full height again with a smug smirk, squeezing your ass again as you sigh.

“Oh god, what did I say to you? Did I feed your massive ego?” you tease, bringing your hands up to his shoulders and lightly scratching your nails against his skin.

“I learned that I am a DILF last night. Or according to you, I am a DIAF to you. Dad I Am Fucking.” He can barely get the last sentence out around his loud laugh, your embarrassed reaction of wide eyes and jaw dropped egging him on more.

“Stop, I cannot believe I said that. And that you heard! You’re never going to let me live that down.”

“Not a chance, sweetheart. Not a chance,” Joel can’t wipe the giggly smile off of his face as he continues, “Oh, and you also were definitely really into me getting you into pajamas last night. I asked if I could take off your shirt and you said ‘Take it all off bay-beeee’. Which was very tempting.”

“Oh my god, if you don’t stop telling me all of this right now, I won’t take anything off for you again.” It’s a thinly veiled threat, both of you know it holds zero weight.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop.”

“Thank you,” you breathe out as you turn toward the shelf in the shower, reaching for the body wash before Joel intercepts your hand, holding it in his and lowering it to your side. He presses his chest to your back, the contact also nudging his hard cock into the flesh of your ass.

“Y’know, I woke up this morning after you were all over me last night with a fucking hard on. Aching for you. And then you come in here and ask to join me in the shower, made it come right back…” he leans down, kissing your shoulder, up your neck and to your ear, “D’you still want me, Mariposa? Hm?”

One of his hands drifts to your inner thighs, coaxing your legs apart and swiping two fingers from your entrance to your clit. Your arousal coats his fingers, a quiet whimper leaving your lips in an exhale, eyes closing and head rolling back against his shoulder.

“You still want me, mi dulzura? Feels like you do,” his lips are against your ear, voice low and gravelly, and he slowly circles your clit as you continue to whimper and writhe in his arms, “Sounds like you do, too, mi amor. Y’know, we have the whole house to ourselves, Mariposa. I want you to be loud for me while I touch you. Understand?”

Lost in the sparks of pleasure slowly building, your words get caught in your throat as one of your arms reaches up to wrap around to the nape of his neck. At the lack of response to his question, Joel pinches your clit before pulling his hand away.

“No, no, no, please. I understand. I’ll be loud for you, J. Please touch me…”

You grip the curls at the back of his head, biting your lip and opening your eyes again to look at Joel’s head at your side. His hand comes back, his thumb rubbing your clit while his middle finger sinks into you until the first knuckle. He keeps his eyes on your face, slowly working the finger in and out of your cunt, never giving it to you fully.

“Fuck, don’t tease me, Joel. Please, pretty please, gimme more.”

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest, his nose nudging at your cheek to turn your head straight toward the tiled wall, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw.

“You want more, Mariposa?”

“Pleasepleaseplease.”

“Mm, and are you going to be good? Give me all your pretty sounds that I love?” Joel pushes his entire middle finger into you now, holding it there, “If I give you what you want, you gotta be loud for me, pretty girl.”

“I will, I promise.” You wiggle your hips to get any more friction building, grumbling in frustration when Joel’s other arm tugs your hips back against him, strapping you to him like a seatbelt. The thumb against your clit leaves, and as you’re about to complain again, Joel adds another finger and starts to thrust them in and out frenetically, the heel of his palm rubbing the sensitive bud at the front of your folds.

A sinful moan rolls from your gut, bouncing off of the walls of the shower and drowning out the sound of the water for a few seconds. You can feel Joel’s satisfied smirk against your skin, his mouth dipping to the crook of your neck to suck at your pulse point and leave his mark. His hand continues its rapid pace, your legs bending as they start to give out the closer you reach to the edge. To attempt to hold your weight, you lean your arms against the tiles, feeling yourself being held up by Joel’s arm tightened across your hips.

“Fuck, Joel, feels so fucking good. Oh!” Your voice pitches up when his fingers graze that spot inside your walls, the sound catching in your throat. Joel pushes deeper with his fingers, hooking them to find that same spot and petting against it with small strokes of his fingers. The sounds coming from you are uncontrollable, head falling back against his shoulder as a mess of his name, lustful whimpers and whines, and wanton moans echo in the steaming shower.

“That’s it, pretty girl, I can feel how close you are. Nearly squeezing my fingers out of ya.” Joel’s small groan vibrates against your shoulder, his hard-on being pressed into your back and leaking pre-cum. You can feel yourself clench around his fingers, the edges of your vision blurring as you near your peak. “Gonna come for me, Mari? Gonna be a good girl and come all over my hand so you can be ready for my cock?”

His words are the final push, pleasure oozing around his fingers and dripping down your folds, warmth spreading in your body as your nerve endings tingle. You can hear yourself moaning his name, small encouragements spoken in your ear as Joel continues to fuck his fingers into you throughout your orgasm. When you’re fully present in your body again, Joel slips his fingers out of you slowly, turning your head and kissing you deeply.

“Need you so fucking bad, Mariposa,” he says against your lips, kissing you fervently before speaking again, “Wanna bend you over and make you take my cock, and you’ll tell me how good it feels filling you up. You want it, pretty girl?”

“Need it, J. Please, I need you so bad.” You kiss him this time, pressing your hips back and grinding against his cock, the rumble of a mouth muffled into your mouth as your tongues meld together. Joel pulls away and grips your hips, turning both of you so his back is facing the stream of water.

“Hands against the wall, amor, arch your back for me—” You follow his instructions with one of his large hands skimming along your spine, folded to an angle at your hips. “That’s it, baby. So good for me.”

Joel takes his cock in his hands, teasing his tip at your entrance and earning a whine from you. A dark laugh is heard faintly from behind you, an equally quiet sigh of relief when he gives you just the tip.

“Mm, fuck, Mari. Estás tan apretado, y húmedo, y cálido. Nunca me voy a cansar de este coño. (You’re so tight, and wet, and warm. I’m never going to get tired of this pussy.)”

Before you can formulate any sort of response, despite not fully knowing what he said, Joel gives you a few more inches of his cock, stuttering out a moan from you before his hips set a rough, desperate pace. Grunts and groans, moans and whimpers fill the bathroom, your names exchanged back and forth as he fucks you from behind. His hands hold tightly onto your hips, digging in to surely form bruises to match the hickey at your collar, and to keep you from being rammed into the wall with how hard his thrusts are.

“More, fuck, gimme all of it, J. Want you to fill me up, make it hard to fucking walk straight.”

There’s a vibrating rumble that resonates in your own chest, Joel completely pulling out on the downstroke and heaving his chest up and down with shallow breaths.

“Fucking dirty girl. Mi chica sucia. Filthy, baby.” He runs his fingers down the line of your spine, still arched for him. You feel him lined up at your entrance again, whimpering for him and pressing your hips back to try to get him inside. Joel chuckles, shaking his head, “Mm, can’t get enough of my cock, can you, sweetheart? Greedy little thing.”

Your jaw drops open with a toe-curling moan, Joel’s hips thrusting his throbbing cock into your waiting cunt to fill you completely, the same rough and hard pace set as he makes you knock forward and brace against the wall with every movement.

“Take it, darlin’. Oh, fuck, aguantarla. Puedes aguantarla, mi dulzura. (Oh, fuck, take it. You can take it, my sweetness.)” Joel’s head rolls back with another guttural moan, tilting forward to watch his cock disappearing into your dripping hole. “Fuck, such a pretty pussy. And it’s all fucking mine, isn’t that right, Mariposa?”

“Y-Yes! Fuck yeah, it’s all yours, J. No one could ever fuck me like you,” you glance over your shoulder and he makes eye contact, a wide, knowing smile on his face. Your cunt clenches around his cock, his brutal pace hurtling you toward the edge. Just as you’re about to ask for that little bit more, he reads your mind and slips one of his hands around your front, errantly rubbing circles in your clit.

“Can feel you around me, Mari, know you’re close. You gonna let me fill you up with my come? Gonna milk my cock with your tight pussy?”

All you can do is nod, eyes shutting tightly as moans squeak out of you. One hand reaches back to grip his wrist as he keeps you right there at the edge.

“Say it, baby. Say it back to me and I’ll let you come. Give you just what you need.”

A deep breath brings enough air into your lungs to rasp out, “Please fill me up, Joel. Wanna milk your cock of everything you can give me, want you to be dripping out of me all day. Remind me of how only you can have my pussy.”

“Fuck yeah, that’s right, sweetheart. Such a good girl.” Joel eyes that you have a hand bracing you still, letting go of your hip as he fucks you, rubbing your clit continuously. He reaches his free hand around to your mouth, prodding his thumb at your lips and humming when you take it into your mouth and suck. After a minute, he pops out his saliva covered digit and brings it back to your body, pushing into the tight ring of muscle facing him. The sensation of stimulation at all three places barrels you to your high, pussy gripping his cock as everything tenses and pleasure rocks your body and clears your mind.

With the tightness felt in both holes around him, Joel takes one, two, three more thirsts before he’s spilling into you, ropes of come coating your walls and lazy jerks of his hips fucking it deeper into you.

After a moment, Joel pulls out of you slowly, gathering all that dribbles out of you and pushing it back inside with his fingers, causing a shudder down your spine.

The two of you come down from your peaks, the water running cold now. Still needing to clean yourselves, Joel washes your body while you shampoo and condition his hair as he folds over to gently exfoliate your legs. The tasks get swapped, Joel washing your hair while you wash his body.

Stepping out, he grabs a towel for you, wrapping it around you tightly and giving you a sweet, chaste kiss. He gets another towel for himself, both of you drying off and heading back into his bedroom to get dressed again.

You sit on the edge of his bed in your clothes from last night, one of his shirts pulled over your tank top and tucked into your skirt. As you comb your fingers over your wet hair, you look at Joel as he pulls on a pair of jeans standing next to his closet.

“Hey, I have a question for you, actually.”

“Shoot, darlin’.”

“Am I remembering correctly that last night when you came to the bar, you were acting a little jealous toward Colton? Did you think he was flirting with me or something and you got all possessive?” you giggle quietly.

Joel blushes and shakes his head with an overexaggerated eye roll. “Pffft, no. Don’t remember it happening like that, probably a bit clouded in your memory.”

Laughing more, you stand up and cross over to him, hands splayed on his soft tummy and head tilted away from him.

“Oh, sure. Sure, J, we’ll go with that if it makes you feel better.” Reaching up you give his cheek a gentle pat and wink at him, giggling faintly before he gathers you up in his arms and gives you a kiss.

“Good, 'cause it does make me feel better. ‘Sides can you blame me for getting a little jealous? We’ve waited like three years to get this right with each other, m’not letting it go.”

“Me neither, which is why you don’t ever have to be jealous cause it’s only you, baby.” You send him a wink and a grin, giving him a kiss before you both hear the front door open, Tommy’s voice echoing upstairs as he calls out for Joel. He looks down at you, biting his lip.

“I didn’t think he’d be bringing Sarah home this early. Uh, d’you mind that he’s here or should I jus’ say…” he trails off awkwardly, waiting for your thoughts on how to broach the fact that you’re over here, in Joel’s shirt and clearly have stayed the night with your wet hair from the shower.

“If you’re fine with him knowing, we can tell him. That is if Sarah hasn’t spilled the beans already.” Joel laughs faintly and nods, running his hands up and down your arms.

“That is highly possible. But guess we’ll have to find out when we head downstairs. And I’m apologizing now for any stupid shit my brother says.”

“You act like I don’t know Tommy already.”

“You don’t know Tommy as my girlfriend. He’s going to give you some shit, and he’s going to give a lot to me for keeping it from him.”

“Think I can survive Tommy Miller. Now, c’mon, get a shirt on, and let’s go. I need some coffee.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Joel descendsed the stairs ahead of you, rounding the corner into the kitchen and greeting his brother as Tommy pours himself a cup of coffee. Sarah is already at the table, cereal bowl in front her as she eats and reads her book. Joel grabs two mugs from the cabinet, earning a confused look from Tommy before you walk into the room, the confusion melting into mischief. His brother nudges at Joel’s arm and winks.

“Ah, así que esta es la razón de su aventura nocturna en la ciudad. Puedo ver por qué estabas tan desesperada por mi ayuda. (Oh, so this is the reason for your late-night adventure into the city. I can see why you were so desperate for my help.)”

Joel’s eyes roll into the back of his head, “Cállate, Tommy. Necesitaba que la llevaran a casa, así que le di una. (Shut up, Tommy. She needed a ride home, so I gave her one.)”

“Claro, claro. Un paseo. (Sure, sure. A ride.)”

“Pendejo de mierda (Fucking dumbass).”

“¿Qué? No estoy diciendo que haya algo malo en ello. Estoy feliz de ver a su hijo si significa que usted consigue algunos. Finalmente. (What? I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it. I am happy to watch your child if it means you getting some. Finally.)” He laughs when Joel glares at him, Tommy crossing over to the table and covering Sarah’s ears. “Además, ella está jodidamente caliente. No sé lo que ve en un viejo como tú. (Plus, she’s fucking hot. Don’t know what she sees in an old man like you.)”

“Yo tampoco. Y deja de hablar de ella así. (I don’t either. And stop talking about her like that.)” Joel’s voice grits out the last sentence, his short fuse being tested with Tommy’s teasing this morning.

“No, realmente, ella es casi diez años más joven y podría conseguir a quien quisiera, pero ¿eres tú? Mejor empieza a apostar por los caballos, hermano. (No, really, she’s almost ten years younger and could get anybody she wanted, but it’s you? Better start betting on the horses, brother.)” His younger brother comes back to stand next to him, picking up his mug and taking a sip.

“Déjalo. (Quit it.)” Joel sends him another glare, grabbing the milk out of the fridge to add some to your cup.

“Maldita sea, tal vez tengo que contratar a una niñera para Sarah cuando está en mi casa. O tal vez la contrate yo mismo. (Damn, maybe I gotta hire a nanny for Sarah when she’s at my house. Or maybe I’ll hire her myself.)”

When Joel looks back at Tommy, he sees him eyeing you as you talk to Sarah at the table, smacking him upside the back of his head.

“Tommy, si no te callas la mierda ahora mismo, lo juro por Dios. (Tommy, if you don’t shut the fuck right now, I swear to god.)”

“Qué? Ella tu novia ahora? (What? She your girlfriend now?)” The young Miller questions, raising an eyebrow.

“Sí, lo es. Así que deja de hablar de lo caliente que es mi novia. (Yeah, she is. So stop talking about how hot my girlfriend is.)” Joel states matter-of-factly, shutting the fridge after returning the jug of milk.

“I understood some of that actually,” you say with a proud smile on your face, one of eager mischief on Tommy’s across the room.

Joel whips his head to you, wide eyes, “What did you understand?”

“You called him an asshole. Something about Sarah. The word girlfriend was thrown in there.”

Joel sighs quietly in relief, picking up your prepared mug of coffee.

“Oh, and something about you being old. And that your brother thinks I’m hot. ” Tommy sputters on his drink as he starts to laugh loudly, a deep blush warming Joel’s cheeks. You walk over to him and take the mug out of his hand, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. Cause you’re not old and Tommy just wishes he wasn’t single at thirty years old.”

Joel laughs and Tommy waves your comment off, rolling his eyes before winking at you, “Oh please, you wish you found me before this old man.”

“Sure, Tommy. You can think that all you want, but I met you both on the same day.” Joel barks out a laugh, a smug grin on his face from you holding your own toward Tommy.

Joel looks at his brother, a smile growing on Tommy’s face, “Well, maybe you needed to get your eyes checked that day, Posey. Cause you’d have to be blind to not pick me over the decrepit ass.”

“Y’know, I’m happy to set you up with one of my friends. She likes the type of cute guys who think they’re funny.”

“I know I’m funny, Posey, so not sure if it’s gonna work out. But yes, I would like to be set up with this friend of yours, please…” You laugh and nod, sipping your coffee before answering.

“I’ll work some magic for ya, Tommy.”

“I like this one, Joel, better keep her around so she can be my wingman.”

“You say ‘this one’ as if there have been others,” Joel rolls his eyes and continues, “And I certainly don’t need your advice on that front Tommy. She’s got me as long as she wants me, but please dear god, you should not be his wingwoman. Don’t subject yourself to that torture, Mari.”

The three of you chat to catch up, Tommy genuinely asking about your time in Boston and telling you how glad he is that you’re back around to make his people happy again. The comment swells your heart before your attention is pulled to Sarah as she asks about having a sleepover with you.

“I would love to throw a sleepover with you, sweet pea. I’ll bring over all the goodies to your house and we can stay in your room and watch movies and paint our nails and do all the fun girly things.”

“Yes! And Daddy and Uncle Tommy aren’t allowed ‘cause no boys.” She points at the two of them, both of them frowning and sighing.

“Can I at least be at home, mija?” Joel jokes, and the three of you laugh as Sarah seriously considers her answer.

“Yeah, that’s fine, but you gotta leave us to do the sleepover things ourselves.”

“Deal, Bug. I can do that.”

“Oh yes! It’s all decided then, we’ll have a sleepover when your week at camp is over.” You clap your hands together and grin, already planning everything you need to do this week to prepare for it.

“Damn, Mari, you brought a lot of stuff for one night with Sarah.” Joel eyes you from head to toe, a duffle on your arm, and shopping bags in your hands. He takes the plastic bags from you, holding the back door open for you before following you over to the island to set down all of your purchases. “You do know it’s only Sarah, right, darlin’? None of her friends are coming. This is a practice run for a sleepover.”

“I know, but I wanted to make the first girly sleepover she has at her house fun. I loved having my friends stay over when I was younger, and I dunno, you’re a boy so you don’t get it.” Rustling around in the bags, you start to pull out snacks and candy, along with fun new nail polishes and nail stickers, new hair clips, some young-girl-friendly makeup, and new pajamas for Sarah and you.

“Sweetheart, this is all really nice, but let me give you some money for it all. This is a ton of stuff.” Joel glances at the counter covered in supplies, and before you can answer he’s walking to the front door to get his wallet from the entryway table.

You call out after him, “I’m not going to take it so don’t bother trying! It wasn’t even that much anyway.”

Popping back around the corner into the kitchen, cash in hand, he shakes his head with a mocking laugh, “You’re funny. Even if it was five dollars, I’m giving you ten. Now please take the cash.”

Joel stops in front of you, hand out with a hundred in his hand. A dry laugh leaves your chest, pushing his hand away as you continue to sort through everything from the shops, “Not happening. This was way less than a hundred dollars too, so definitely not accepting that. Go put it back in your wallet, Miller.”

“You’re so goddam stubborn sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah, and you’re not?”

“Hey, I didn’t say that. I know I’m stubborn, that’s why this argument is happening. And why I am about to do this.” Joel steps behind you, slipping the bill into the back pocket of your shorts. You groan, fishing it out and shoving it back in his hand, pushing at his chest.

Joel rebuttals with another attempt, stepping toward you but you step back, backing around to the other side of the counter as he follows closely. You hold your arms out to keep space between the two of you, not being able to hold back a laugh as you start to pick up the pace in your cyclical chase.

“Joel! I’m not taking your damn money, leave it!”

“Mariposa, please, we both know I am way more stubborn than you and m’not gonna stop unless you take it.”

Shaking your head, you turn around to actually move into a speedwalk-jog kind of walk around the kitchen, serpentining your steps.

“Darlin’, I can still catch you if you walk like that.”

“Well, I’d like to see you try.”

Joel takes that statement as a challenge, suddenly catching up with you and wrapping his arms to your front, slipping the bill in the waistband of your shorts before letting you go, putting his hands up in the air.

Wordlessly, you snatch the money from your bottoms, throw it on the counter, and go back to the pile of purchases on the counter. After all of that, you start to unload the drinks in the fridge and open the pantry to throw the sweets and other snacks on one of the shelves. Joel stands and watches you, eyes going back and forth between following your movements to all of the things lying out, including the money.

A feeling kicks up in your chest, tightening your insides with a wring. Small moments send you back to feelings like these, unsupported by actual occurrences but your brain doesn’t care about what actually happens; it prefers the what-ifs. What if this doesn’t last, what if you’re too young, what if you’re too anxious, too broken, too much and it all comes crumbling from under you before you fully realize it? What if this is one of those moments you look back on as a sign? It’s taut and consuming, begging you to say something about it to release the corkscrew.

“If this is too much or if I’m overstepping a — I don’t know — a parental boundary 'cause she’s not my kid, and I know that, of course, but I wanted to do this for Sarah. M’not the nanny that you have to reimburse anymore, I just thought it would be fun to make it like how my sleepovers used to be as a kid…”

Joel’s brows stitch together with what looks like confusion or concern, rounding the kitchen island and standing next to you. A hand on your hip closest to him presses into the flesh there, turning you toward him as the other hand reaches up to tilt your chin to him. Your eyes avoid his, embarrassment heating your body with licks of flames.

“Can you look at me? Please?” His voice is unwavering but shy, boyish. You answer with a flick of up, meeting his own stare. “Mari, sweetheart, this isn’t about anything like that. I know you aren’t ‘the nanny’ anymore, and if I’m being honest, I don’t think you were ever just ‘the nanny’ to either of us. I was being pigheaded, and I didn’t want you to take on doin’ all of this yourself. It’s jus’ automatic for me to want to cover for Sarah, with any sort of activity. Not that I don’t want you to do all of this. I can’t even begin to explain how much it means to me that you care so much for Sarah. I’m just, I’m being her dad. And not giving you the means to do things for her yourself. M’sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, J. I should have better explained myself from the beginning. I want to be a part of your lives, I want to….I don’t know, I don’t want to take the place of her mom, obviously, but I want to be someone she can do girly things with if we’re gonna be together for a while—”

“Not if, Mari. I don’t plan on letting you go without a serious fight,” Joel’s thumb brushes against your cheek as he holds your gaze, “I am so grateful and so relieved that Sarah has someone like you in her life. ‘Specially right now with everything around her mom leavin’, you’re exactly what she needs. What we both need…I will take the money back. But next time we’re splitting it, and every time after that ‘til it’s time that it’s coming outta a joint account.”

When Sarah arrives home from her playdate, Joel retreats upstairs after ordering pizza for the two of you (and him, because he claimed he was gonna sneak down) to watch something on the small tv in his bedroom. You and Sarah changed into your new pajamas and got all of the snacks moved into the living room, trekking blankets and pillows and stuffed animals from her room and around the house to build a nest on the floor in front of the couch.

Sarah had chosen The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants out of the stack of movies you had rented, popping it in and sitting back with you while you had her pick out a color for her nails. The two of you talked about camp and the past school year, her confessing a crush she has on a boy in her camp group this year. There’s only a few details you get from her as you paint her nails, giggling with her when she gets shy and telling her about your first crush.

Sarah eventually is the one to paint your nails, turning out a bit messy and abstract during the process but nonetheless it was fun. As she’s finishing up a second coat on the last nail of yours, the doorbell rings for the pizza and Joel jogs downstairs a minute later to answer the door. Carrying the boxes over to the kitchen after he paid and tipped, he grins at you and nods to the set up.

“Is that every pillow in our house?”

“Well, no, you still have the ones on your bed cause you were sitting on ‘em,” you reply as you walk into the kitchen behind Sarah, fingers splayed apart, careful not to smudge. The younger Miller does the same, looking up at Joel when she stands next to the pizza box.

“Daddy, can you get the slices for me? I don’t want to mess up my nails that Posey painted for me. Look at them! They’re so pretty!” She raises her arms up to give Joel a look, his hand taking one of hers and inspecting it.

“Gosh, Bug, these are just gorgeous. Mari did a great job,” he grins at you, giving you a wink at the same time an idea pops into yours.

“I could do your nails, J. They could match Sarah’s!” Your suggestion is immediately supported by his daughter, her small stature jumping up and down in front of him.

“Yes, yes! You need to get your nails painted, Daddy!”

“Wasn’t this sleepover ‘no boys allowed’?” he arches a brow before he grabs a piece of pizza, plopping it on a plate for Sarah to take into the other room, “If I can stay for longer than it takes to paint my nails and hang out and eat your snacks, you can absolutely paint my nails.”

Sarah takes her plate from her dad, grinning ear-to-ear as she retreats back to the blanket nest. Joel makes a plate for you, carrying it out with his own and setting them on the coffee table. With a groan, he lowers himself to the ground, leaning his back against the couch and holding out his hands to you.

“Go for it, sweetheart.”

“D’you want the same thing as Sarah or something different?”

“Hmm, what d’you think, mija? Should we match?”

“I think you should give Daddy the color I gave you, Posey. It’s so pretty!” she leans back against you, using you as a backrest while she eats her pizza carefully with her wet nails, engrossed in the movie.

“Alright, guess it’s decided then. We’ll be matching,” you smile at him, taking one hand in yours to pull it closer, relaxing it against your thigh as you open the polish bottle. Concentrating on the tasks at hand, Joel wiggles his fingers when you aren’t in the midst of painting to get your attention, holding up a piece of pizza near your face.

“Eat, darlin’. Gotta fuel your artistic brain,” he winks and smiles sweetly at you, earning a quiet laugh before you lean in and take a bite chewing as you go back to painting. You switch hands after a few more bites, giving him a break to eat his own pizza and you yours while the three of you watch the movie. Once your job is done, you close the bottle tight and set it on the table, getting Sarah’s attention to look at it.

“How’d I do, Sare-Bear? Does your dad look pretty?” Her giggles pull some from all of you, nodding and clapping her hands together.

“Daddy, you need some of my pretty stickers and then Posey needs to take a picture with her camera.” Sarah stands and moves over to the pile of beauty supplies, grabbing the pack of nail stickers you bought and picking out a sheet. She sits next to Joel, stickering around his face as he closes his eyes and lets it all happen.

“Is this what happens all the time at girl sleepovers?” He peeks an eye open at you, getting a wide smile and shrug.

“Guess we’ll have to have some more for you to really find out.” Sarah steps back from her handiwork, and you pick up the Polaroid camera, lining up the shot from the side of Joel where there’s multiple star stickers clustered around his eyes. The shutter snaps when he looks at you, spitting out the image. You hand it to Sarah to watch it develop, showing you both quickly before going to hang it on the fridge along with a few other of your shots. You snap another of him looking at you directly, soft rounded eyes filled with affection.

Once you set the camera down, holding onto that photo for yourself, his hands find your thighs, running over the soft cotton of your PJ pants.

“Thank you for doin’ this for her, she hasn’t been this happy and giggly since before you left last summer.” Joel leans in, giving you a gentle, lingering kiss. “I love you. So, so much, Mari.”

Instead of answering, you give him another kiss before Sarah walks back in, settling between the two of you on the floor nest, cuddling up within your little unit of three to finish out the movie.

A few nights after your slumber party, you sneak over to Joel’s again before bed, using the key to the back door that he had made for you. He’s sitting on the couch, a line of sight to the door and a sleepy smile tugging at his lips when he sees you.

Padding your feet across the floors, you climb onto the couch next to him and curl your legs under you while you lean into his side. His arm wraps you up and his lips press against your forehead with a content sigh.

“Hi, Mari.”

“Hey, J.”

“How was your day, darlin’?” he asks as he turns off the TV, fingers ghosting up and down your bicep.

“Good, it was good. Babysat for the O’Connors today with the little baby. She’s so adorable, just a day full of baby giggles.” You grin and Joel smiles back at you, nodding along, “And then after that I drove to therapy and had that for an hour and then went home and waited to come see you.”

“M’very glad you’re here. Can’t sleep without you anymore,” he kisses your temple, “How was therapy, amor?”

“Today was a little hard. Talked more about maybe looking into medicine cause I feel like it isn’t fully there yet. But I do feel like I am happy. Like in my heart. My brain just can't keep up. Still have a lack of interest in things and not a lot of energy like I used to.”

Joel hums an acknowledgment, looking down at you on his shoulder, “M’here if you need to talk about anything, sweet girl.”

“I know. Thank you,” you give him a chaste kiss, smiling drowsily, “How was your day?”

“Pretty alright. Had to go fill in for someone who called in sick today at a job site so I’m exhausted from all the lifting and using machinery. But the framing is all done which means there’s something that looks like a house standing on the lot,” Joel chuckles softly and glances out the front window, “And then, uh, ran into your mom when I got home. She must’ve been running out for something but she stopped to talk and invited me and Sarah and Tommy to celebrate the Fourth with y’all.”

You sit up, grinning excitedly, “Really? Oh my gosh, that will be so fun. Our first official holiday together. Even though it’s just the Fourth of July. Kind of lame.”

Joel chuckles along with you, nodding his head and avoiding your eyes, “I mean, I told her yes ‘cause I didn’t think you’d mind. But the more I got to thinkin’, I guess, I just—I think I need some more time before we tell your parents about us.”

Your face falls before you can hide it, Joel’s hand immediately reaching to cup your cheek delicately, “M’sorry, sweet girl. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to do it at a family event and maybe it might be best if we can sit them down sometime to talk about it all.”

A slow nod keeps you quiet, in your thoughts, rambling out an agreement as you bring your eyes to Joel’s again, “Yeah, yeah, I understand. I agree. Would be best to wait a little while longer.”

“Thank you, darlin’. M’so glad you agree. We’ll find the right time, eventually,” Joel gives you a tender kiss, lingering against your lips for a few more dopey exchanges. He pulls away, standing up and gathering you up with him, leading you to his bedroom and getting into bed with you, “Night, Mariposa. Love you.”

“Night, J,” you reply meekly, the small sound of your voice easily brushed off as fatigue. Joel keeps you close, spooning you with his front against your chest, falling asleep behind you quickly. You can’t rest, especially after that short and decided conversation.

Why did you agree so easily? And why was he even asking for more time? His daughter knows, his brother knows, your friends know. What’s any different about your family? Is he afraid that if he breaks your heart he’ll have to move? But why would he even think about that possibility when all he’s told you is how much he loves you, how he’ll be yours until you want nothing to do with him anymore?

Every reassurance that he’s given you is flooding your mind, those doubts and fears worming their way into the sweet memories and poisoning them with twisted words.

Every time he’s said he loves you, does he mean it? Or is he only saying it to say it, to placate your anxieties about the future of you two by committing in a way?

Is this push back about telling your family a response to you not being ready to say ‘I love you’ back? Is he getting fed up with waiting for it?

Are you too much too quickly? Weaving yourself too tightly into his life and his daughter’s life? Is he going to start to drift, to put off telling your parents until he can end it?

These thoughts cycle in an endless loop, keeping you up while Joel sleeps soundly beside you. Nausea stirs in your stomach, rapid heart beating from the spiraling of your mind keeping you wide awake until the early hours of the morning.

The only way you can manage to fall asleep is turning in Joel’s arms, cuddling into his chest and breathing in his scent to halt the carousel of negativity in your brain long enough for his even breaths to lull you to sleep.

One last question flashes to you before you’re finally asleep:

What happens when Summer ends?

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @beee-haw @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @jupitre @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @livingdeadmaria @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissaaa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost

#joel #writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller series #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic

273 notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 5 months

Note

I was thinking of that one scientist lady who is a teenager and runs her own department in Cadmus (I don't remember her name) and had the strangest thought of her "accidentally" stealing kon away and adopting him as her little brother, while all of Cadmus freaks the flip out, but I also have no idea about anything of her character so that's unfortunate because I feel like it would be an entertaining scenario to picture, but regardless I wanted to share it with you, so there you go, enjoy!

Serling Roquette, my love! ❤ Allegedly she and Kon were meant to be the "same" age when she debuted but that has literally never stopped me, I would full-stop write Serling deciding that actually, this job is way more restrictive and boring than she expected it to be, she's gonna bounce and become a rogue geneticist all on her own, and then everyone's like "Serling why are you . . . why are you packing Superboy in your suitcase?? why did you tell us you're TAKING him in your resignation letter????"

Serling: because he is the only not-boring thing here and the rest of your are squares, next question. also someone still needs to fix his aging issue and none of YOU are doing it.

Everyone: he's a PERSON, you can't just take him as part of your severance package!!

Serling: convince me anyone who actually runs this place believes that and I'll leave him behind.

Everyone: . . . . . . anyway do you two need a ride anywhere?

Serling: naw I already told my parents he's coming to Christmas and we're gonna see how long it takes my auncles and cousins to remember I don't ACTUALLY have a bio-twin.

#serling roquette #kon el #conner kent #superboy #anonymous #meta ecetera

107 notes · View notes

shelbgrey · 9 months

Text

Next to me(Emmett Cullen)

Chapter 20: Testosterone and Truck repairs

Table of contents

Tags: @itsmytimetoodream @f-1-maniac @purplesiren @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads

“that would never happen” Paul said as he stuffed his face with Doritos, it was Saturday and Paul decided to stay in a watch Bones while Emmett was out hunting. Paul still hated the idea, so we just decided to never discuss it.

“good morning” bella said coming into the living. My head shot up confused, she never really spoke in such a bright tone in the mornings “what's that supposed to mean?”

“nothing...good morning” she repeated as Owen came shuffling into the living room, he plopped on to Charlie's favorite arm chair looking like he just woke up.

“mornin' sunshine” Paul joked, Owen looked at the TV and flipped Paul off while he watched his favorite character Angela do her thing on the show.

I rolled my eyes and continued to watch the TV show. Bella quitely sat down on the arm of the couch with me and took a sip of her drink. She cleared her throat and looked at me and Paul, we ignored her as i tried to finish the episode we were watching. “you look nice today... You too paul”

“I always look nice” Paul smirked, I rolled my eyes and hit his chest.

“What do you want?” I sighed, looking down at the sleep clothes I had yet to change out of, it was one of Emmett's black t-shirts and underwear, his shirts looked like a dress on me so there was no reason to wear pants.

Bella looked shocked. “What? I can't compliment my cousin?” As Bella failed to be suck up I sighed, she was always overly nice when she wanted something.

“suck up” Owen mumbled, Bella shot him a glare as he looked at the TV and not her.

“What do you want?” I said.

“m-my truck won't start... Could you guys look at if for me?” she asked, I signed and nodded. Paul who didn't look up from the TV slightly nodded. “after this, I need to see Booth and Bones catch the killer”

“they always do” I said, smiling.

Bella immediately jumped out of her seat. “t-thanks!” she's stopped and took a double take. “I'll be outside washing it while I wait for you”

The three of us nodded not taking our eyes off the TV. We didn't really notice she left until Owen spoke up and we gave him out undivided attention. “ya know, you certainly have a type sis”

I raised an eyebrow. “what's that mean?”

“you've been in love with David Boreanaz since the show Angel, he was indeed a big buff vampire with dark hair and in Bones he the same way just bigger and goofyer and minus the vampire” Owen explained.

“Buffy the vampire slayer was better... And had good tips” Paul added, I gave him a side eye. “sorry” he mumbled.

“I don't really have a type” I said with a nervous chuckle. “big, goofy buff dude” Owen pushed. “Seeley Booth and Emmett cullen are the basically the same thing, your fictional and real boy friend are very similar”

“why are we even talking about this?” I asked getting up and shutting the TV off. “I'm gonna change and we'll go help little miss. Main character” I said stretching.

After I got and old t-shirt and jeans on, I went out side while Paul and Owen got Uncle Charlie's tools. Paul sighed and droped the metal box on the ground as Owen climed into the bed with one of his my Stephen King books.

“put SpongeBob down and give it a crank” Paul said to Bella as he opened the hood. Bella climed into the squeaky vehicle and tuned the key. The truck made a sickly noise as Paul rummaged around. He sighed and wiped the grease off his hands onto his shorts.

“you got a battery?” he asked. I shook my head no. “we used it on the Impala were working on, remember?”

“let's try and jump start it then” he said as Owen handed him the jumper cables that lived in the bed of the truck.

Paul hooked one side to Charlie's Cruiser, as he hooked it to the truck battery the truck rocked suddenly. I looked up and saw Emmett on the roof.

“can you act human, we have Neighbors” I chuckled, he jumped down as Edward rolled up in his fancy-pants Volvo.

“what's wrong with the truck?” Emmett asked.

“its not starting”

“none of your business” Paul said over me. Emmett's gold eyes looked towrds Paul with hate. I rolled my eyes.

“it might be the spark plug” Emmett said, examining the engine. “I can bring one over later tonight” he said shutting the hood.

“thanks” bella said quickly and turned back to Edward. “there's still a dent though” Emmett said, grabbing the red metel and popping it back into place.

“now, that's hot” I said nudging Paul, He scoffed. “I could do that”

Emmett chuckled while Paul gave him a death glare.

“gald Enzo Ferrari could be of service” Paul said rolling his eyes, Emmett ignored him and turned to me.

“you wanna come over tomorrow?” he smiled leaning against the truck. “Sure, I want Owen to come too. He doesn't like to be left alone anymore”

“Sure, Carlisle and Esme want to meet him” he smiled, our conversation was cut short when Billy and Jacob rolled up in his new truck.

“peace was made, what's the problem?” Emmett asked when he saw my face drop. I shrugged. “I don't know... I just feel like I've been walking on eggshells since the meeting”

“well if they really care about you they wouldn't make you feel that way” Emmett said loud enough for Paul to hear.

Paul and Jacob are the only two that had been acting normal since the meeting. Paul didn't care, I mean he hated the Cullens but he was one of my closest friends and he wasn't gonna ruin it. Jacob just didn't know anything about the supernatural world yet so he was completely clueless.

He actually liked Emmett, Jacob came over to the house the other day to help me and Emmett on my Impala, they got along great. Jacob couldn't figure out what the packs problem was, he even asked and I couldn't give him a real awnser.

“we should go” Edward said coming up to us. Emmett shrugged. “you can... I don't have to”

My best friend rolled his eyes and gave me hug before racing off in his Volvo. “What was that about?” Bella asked.

“I'm sure you'll crack that case too Sherlock” I mumbled as we watched Jacob hop out of the silver truck.

“Hey, Emmett” Jacob smiled as he pulled out Billy's wheelchair. Honestly, Billy got over the whole thing. I think he was just galde Emmett was respectful towards me and and wasn't a killing machine.

Jacob and Emmett did some kinda bro fist bump which was bizzar in itself, I worry what Jake will think when he knows the truth about it all. Would him and Emmett still be friends? Would he look past all the wolf and vampire drama?

“you here for the game?” he asked Emmett, he looked over at me and just prayed he'll say no. I hate sports.

“I'll be upstairs with y/n” he said as Charlie walked outside with a smile. He greeted his best friend and Jacob then turned to Emmett.

“your welcome to join us if you want Emmett”

Emmett nodded with a smile. “I appreciate the offer sir, but I promise y/n we'd watch a couple of movies together”

As we walked towrds the house Billy spoke up. “any luck on the Waylon case?”

“well, I don't think it was an animal that killed him” Charlie awnsered as he pushed Billy's wheelchair up the small stairs.

Jacob and Bella looked at me and Emmett while they spoke about the murder. Emmett gulped and took my hand while we followed the group into the house.

“so spread the word out at the rez, huh? Keep the kids out” Charlie asked. “will do, we don't want anyone eles getting hurt” Billy said looking directly at me and Emmett.

As the sports watcher filed into the living room, I pulled Emmett towrds the stairs. He jokingly stoped and looked at the TV. “ya sure you don't want to watch the game?”

“we can watch it if you really want to” I smiled. I quickly shook his head no. “na, let's go to your room”

As we walked up the stairs Uncle Charlie called out to us. “better keep that bedroom door open!”

“okay!” I said rolling my eyes knowing he couldn't see me.

When we got my room Emmett plopped on to my bed as I looked for a movie to watch. He rolled over onto his stomach and reached for the book that was on my nightstand. It was Christine by Stephen King.

“what do you want to watch?” I asked, Emmett shrugged flipping through the small book. “I don't care, as long as your cuddling me... I don't care”

I chuckled and looked over my shoulder at him. His eye brows were knitted together as he concentrated on the book. “you can read it if you want, it's not like the movie but it's good”

“yeah... I might give it a try” he said as tossed him a padd of red sticky notes, he pealed one off for a book mark. “now... Movie, what are we watching?”

“Pult Fiction or Bill and Ted's excellent adventure?” I asked, Emmett looked up, thinking for a moment. “Bill and Ted” he smiled.

I nodded a put the movie in before crawling into bed with him. He wrapped his arms around me while I rested my head on his chest. I smiled feeling immediate comfort. “your like a big teddy bear” I said wrapping my arm around his waist, scooting closer to him. He chuckled and kissed the top of my head.

The rest of the day we stayed in bed, Owen came in about two hours later and watched Lethal weapon 3 with us. When 6 'o'clock hit Emmett got a call from Alice to come home, He promised to help get supplies for tomorrow. He said his goodbyes and kissed my goodbye before going outside to his jeep.

A/n: man, sorry this took so long, hopefully I'll post more regularly with this story. I'm so happy you all enjoy this story and want to read more.

#Emmett cullen #Emmett cullen story #Emmett cullen x reader #Emmett cullen imagines #Edward cullen x reader #Carlisle cullen x reader #Esme cullen x reader #Jasper Hale x reader #Alice cullen x reader #Rosalie Hale x reader #Vampire Diaries #Damon Salvatore #Stefan salvatore #Wolf pack #Wolf pack x reader #Sam uley x reader #Paul lahote x reader

174 notes · View notes

cozymochi · 3 months

Note

Oo I love Elena of Avalor, what's Emilio's relationship to his cousin like? and his dorm mates?

[😳💕 IN REFERENCE TO THIS DIP]

Gonna answer these questions in reverse to test the waters. I briefly mention it on his bio image but I think I mixed up the subject pronouns in my sentence structure when referring to his relationship to the other guys 💀 i realized too late that it reads awkwardly- SO LEMME CLARIFY.

🦜 Emilio’s relationship to Kalim 🦦: Kalim —much like how he wants to treat any first year in his dorm— really wants to seem like some really cool older brother to his younger peers. Emilio finds this sunny disposition a lil’ off putting to a degree BUT…. Emilio does wanna get close to Kalim if only to elevate his own sense of worth and perceived status. Which can translate to Emilio being something of a bootlicker. Not Sebek level, but whatever lets him seemingly advance.

He doesn’t necessarily care about Kalim’s wealth per se, heck Emilio himself is already from a noble family in his home country— but being close to the Kalim Al-Asim looks really good on the outside in Emilio’s mind. “Humble” little Emilio managed to network with THE Asim heir? Now that’s something worth talking about, especially back home. Business is one thing but to be in his inner circle? That’s very special.

In general their relationship is amicable, but It’s hard to say if Emilio actually cares for Kalim on a personal level, if at all. But Kalim definitely cares for him as he does for anybody else. It’s probably the least complicated.

…Which segues into-

🦜Emilio’s relationship Jamil 🐍: Jamil does not like Emilio, and Emilio views Jamil as an obstacle. So naturally he wants to get in Jamil’s good graces as much as possible too! Emilio frequently tries buttering up Jamil in some shape or form via giving him information he’d find valuable or emulating how Jamil treats the other students in the dorm to “set an example.” If Jamil rejects an impromptu party, Emilio is right there to second that notion!! (Note: only applies if Jamil is present) He tends to, dare I say… parrot Jamil…? 😉

But unlike Kalim, Jamil is not as easy to sway. He can spot a fake smile a mile away. At first, Jamil assumed something far more nefarious about Emilio’s intentions, but that dissipated quickly after investigating further.

…That said, Jamil will use Emilio’s desperation to get in good spirits with Kalim (for as surface level as they are). It makes Emilio rife for exploitation. Jamil will often test the waters to see how far Emilio is willing to go, without actually giving him much of an inch in return… But, Emilio has his practical uses. He has his own invaluable connections, and underneath all that phoniness is someone genuinely capable with an eye for detail that most in the dorm don’t seem to have.

At first, Jamil didn’t trust Emilio at all because of his incessant behavior… and now?? I mean he still kinda doesn’t cuz Jamil is just like that, but he eventually learned Emilio himself is generally harmless and his interest in Kalim is purely surface level for petty vanity reasons. …That and Emilio is similarly from a noble family, so Jamil doesn’t want conflict to start with should anything crop up. He has yet to figure out why a guy from a noble family like Emilio would feel the need to overcompensate so much. Why would he feel the need to elevate his status, shouldn’t he already have it? And for that matter, why go to so much effort?

That said, as much as Jamil finds Emilio’s constant - and I mean constant- schmoozing annoying, in an ironic twist it makes Emilio seemingly the only somewhat capable person he trusts in the dorm to watch Kalim should Jamil be out of commission for arbitrary shenanigans of the month. He both trusts and doesn’t trust him, it tends to flip back and forth. They’re kinda both “useful” to each other.

…Kalim thinks Jamil and Emilio are best friends.

✨NOW FOR THE PERSONAL LORE✨.

🦜 Emilio’s relationship to his cousin 💎:

Much like anything in this universe, Emilio’s relationship with his cousin more or less directly parallels the source his whole character draws from.. So, it’s parallel to Esteban’s relationship with Elena minus the indirect hand in parental death (side note: This show is bonkers). I feel like I’m not doing many favors by NOT going into depth on the Esteban and Elena stuff, but for the sake of brevity on the long post I’m going to have to leave it out. Watching the series informs a lot of the directional choices here, but that’s an unreasonable ask. So, I guess I’ll have to leave it at “if you know you know.” BACK TO THE MEAT AND POTATOES:

Emilio is jealous of his cousin. Unlike her, he wasn’t born into nobility, but rather adopted into her family after both his parents perished in an accident. While his cousin looks to him like an older brother and Emilio to her like a younger sister, his cousin often gets showered in praise and far more attention from that side of the family than he ever gets. He often wonders if they even remember him. In fact, they usually DO forget he’s there. No matter what it is she does, she gets rewarded and lauded whereas if Emilio does something similar or more impressive, it doesn’t earn much fanfare. In fact, his family just assumes it was his cousins doing.

Emilio, in an attempt to gain their praise and attention, has developed something of a vain complex where overcompensating is his way of getting recognition. He wants to be seen as capable and worth seeking for advice and wisdom, so he makes it a point to learn as much as possible and make as many connections as he can (Ironic, considering what his signature spell is). That side of the family works on the Grand Council to the Queen of their country “Shining Peninsula,” so there’s a lot he wants to live up to. He wants to work to get there, his cousin, however is just expected to already have a spot.

As for her, it’s not that she’s incapable. Far from it. Despite his jealously, Emilio does love his cousin. She’s very understanding and down-to-earth, but her sheltered lifestyle and need to live up to the expectations put on her leads her to being extremely impulsive and act on instinct. Did I mention her magic reserves are crazy high? In another ironic twist, she’s the one who seems to notice that Emilio is very knowledgable on a lot of things she’s blind to, and while she might turn to him for help… she kinda falls into the same pitfalls the rest of her family does. She doesn’t usually listen.

Hey, in a weird way it also kinda parallels Kalim and Jamil. So, maybe Emilio could find a kinship in a certain somebody.

So, someone out there is probably wondering if this cousin is twst Elena. Yes. Her name is Marisol.

#twstposting #my art #(its there)#emilio estrada alvarez #twst oc #its the maternal side #i shouldnt clog the main tag with my bs #…that said still have to organize a little #twisted wonderland

79 notes · View notes

jeridandridge · 10 months

Text

Beach Day

Reader meets some of Melissa’s family during a trip to the beach.

My grasp of Italian is very limited as you’ll see 😅

“Are you sure you’re up for this, hon?”

You chuckle as you finish packing up the cooler for the day.

“Baby, if I didn’t feel like going I wouldn’t go. You’re more nervous than I am.”

Melissa huffs leaning against the truck, you two already in your bathing suits under your clothes for a day at the beach with her family. You’d met a cousin or two, but not almost the entire family. Even nonna was excited to spend a day in the sun.

You walk over to your girlfriend resting your hands on her hips. “It’s gonna be a great day, okay? I’m so excited to meet the people that raised such an amazing person.” You beam.

Melissa smiles cupping your cheeks with her hands bringing you in for a soft kiss.

“The last time I brought someone around it was Joe and they didn’t like him at all. I married him anyway and they ended up being right.” She explains.

You shake your head gently giving her hip a squeeze. “Parents love me. I’ll show you.”

An hour later you find yourself wheeling the cooler down the cement path to the sand, Schmmenti family in sight. You spot Melissa’s cousin Joey kicking a soccer ball around with his son and a bunch of other relatives seated on a picnic bench.

“Hey there they are!” A guy you recognize as Melissa’s uncle Tommy waves them over.

You smile when you see Melissa relax a bit, you two walk through the sand and grass getting to the table where she playfully shoves her cousin off when he goes to give her a hug.

“So you finally brought the woman you never shut up about!” Uncle Tommy teases her.

“Yeah yeah, don’t make it weird. This is y/n.” She smiles at you as you give a little wave.

“I already know this guy.” You playfully groan pointing at Joey getting everyone else to laugh. You look around the rest of the group nodding at each one naming off another aunt, cousin, niece, and finally, Melissa’s grandmother who’s happily lounging in a folding chair.

She has her dark hair piled up on her head much like Melissa wears hers and has kind brown eyes you’re shocked at how young she seems chalking it up to years of good food and company.

As the group disperses Melissa takes your hand walking you over to the older woman.

“nonna questa è la mia ragazza.” She smiles. You learned a little bit of Italian, and picked up a few words.

“Oh, Cara ragazza, she’s a pretty one.” The woman smiles standing up and kissing both of your cheeks.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mel’s told me so much about you.” You beam keeping your fingers laced with your girlfriends.

“Ditto, y/n. Welcome.” She smiles reaching out to squeeze your upper arm.

Your smile only grows when nonna takes her seat again and Melissa looks at you with almost watery eyes.

“Why don’t you go show off and kick joeys ass.” She nods to the sand where the guys are playing soccer.

You smirk and lean in kissing her cheek before you leave your shirt and flip flops near the cooler taking off in your bikini top and Jean shorts.

Melissa smiles sitting next to her grandmother on the lawn chair. As you run around with the guys giving joeys son a high five when he scores a goal Melissa’s smile widens.

“I like her.” Nonna nods in your direction, laughing when you fake Uncle Tommy out with the ball.

“She’s amazing.” Melissa smiles dreamily in your direction as you jog back over with a breathless laugh.

“Baby, do you have the keys? I forgot Anthony’s body board in the back.” You explain as the young boy bolts towards you. She fishes the keys out of her bag handing them to the excited pre teen.

“You only use that thing when your dads around, capeesh? Y/N heard you like surfing and insisted on one of those for today.” She smiles.

Anthony nods eagerly buzzing as he runs towards the truck.

“You need more sunblock, Mel.” You hum seeing her shoulders already a light shade of pink.

Nonna shoots her granddaughter a knowing look as you get the sunscreen from the bag, a look that says you had her approval.

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #Lisa Ann Walter #lgbt fiction #Melissa Schemmenti imagine

260 notes · View notes

pleasekitasan · 2 years

Text

untouchable

pairing: oikawa nii-chan x f!reader, MDNI!!!!!

word count: 5k

tags and warnings: incest, dub-con / reluctance, intoxication, manipulation, virginity loss ( it's a social construct, but tooru-nii wants yours 🥴 ), god complex, all characters are over 18!!, use of "cunt", creampie / unprotected sex, timeskip tooru. if any warnings are missing, please let me know!

a/n: this is my submission for @iwaasfairy's persephone collab! if you haven't checked out her work yet, god lord please do. i'm so honoured to even have my blog & fic on a post of hers!! hope you enjoy tooru-nii being a moral monster to the tune of monster by exo! 😇

i'll flip you over, break you down, and swallow you up

i'll steal you and indulge in you

i'm gonna mess you up

i'm engraved in your heart

so even if i die, i'll live forever

when your nii-chan told the family that he was moving to argentina, everyone ( including you ) was so happy for him. to be able to find your passion in high school and pursue it after isn't something that everyone has the luxury of doing.

on the week leading up to his departure, you would follow him around like a puppy, even going out with him and all his high school friends to drink ( nii-chan would sneak you cups of sake when workers weren't looking ) to make sure you didn't lose a single second with him. by the time you two arrived home, your parents would be asleep or just heading to bed, so it was more than easy to sneak into nii-chan's room and sleep curled up at his side, hands scrunching the front of his shirt as you held on to him, even in your dreams.

seeing him off at the airport was the first time you felt your heart break. he looked so happy and you were, too! just really, really deep inside. ever since you were born, it was tooru-nii that looked after you when your parents were away ( which was a lot ). it was tooru-nii that helped you with your homework after school. it was tooru-nii that put you on the volleyball team as his manager. it was tooru-nii you'd scream for during all his matches. he's your first love — not your mother or father: it was always nii-chan.

after he left, life became bleak. the house felt so much emptier and your days so much darker. the volleyball team was never the same without him, but you stayed as a manager until graduation came around. with nii-chan no longer around, you used your free time to study and got into the best schools in the country, but it still didn't feel like this was the right path or what you should do, even when tooru-nii called to congratulate you.

a year after his departure, it was your turn to wear the black cap and gown, throwing the former in the air with the remnants of a smile twitching at your lips. you aren't sure what you're free from, but you feel relieved and relaxed. the rest of the day was spent bidding your friends farewell, most of them staying in miyagi for college, whilst you accepted a scholarship in tokyo. by the time you get home, your cheeks are tear-stained from the amount of goodbyes you've had to express — you really are going to miss a lot of them, especially the volleyball teammates that supported you throughout tooru-nii's absence.

the dark house suddenly becomes blinding as the lights flicker on and you shield your squinting eyes as the sound of "surprise!" mixes in with "congratulations" ( your parents weren't the best with planning things in general ). laughter bubbles up in your chest and you take a deep bow where you are at the door for all the relatives that stopped by.

"thank you, everyone!" your aunts and uncles, baby cousins and grown ones, even your grandparents were there. they didn't come by for tooru's graduation ( he explicitly said he didn't want a party ), but they stopped by to give you gifts, money, and lots of awkward hugs.

only when the last of your mother's side is done hogging you does tooru steal your attention.

"happy graduation, my sweet little imouto-chan."

your eyes light up, filling with the joy you've been deprived of for the past year.

"nii-chan!" you jump into his open arms without another thought and nuzzles your face into his neck, lips spread into a wide grin. "what're ya doin' here? i thought you were busy with a game this week!"

"well... mom 'nd dad called me up about a month ago to tell me that you're finally graduating. had to make somethin' up so you'd feel surprised. did ya miss me?" his question seems like such a stupid one. isn't it painfully obvious with the way you're clinging to him, ignoring everyone's laughter as they murmur about how close you two must be?

"maybe," you hum teasingly, a giggle leaving your lips when you see tooru-nii's small frown. "of course i did, dummy."

reluctantly, you pull away so things don't look weird ( weirder? ), but tooru's fingers lace with yours as he leads you around the house to greet your father's side of the family, your older brother squeezing your palm when you seem to grow disinterested in the elders' nagging or advice. he's always looked out for you and tonight, you know that this will never change.

"nii-chan," you giggle as his hot breath tickles the curve of your ear.

with all the adults gone and your parents resting in their bedroom, it was up to you and a tipsy tooru-nii to clean up, but having the elder dropping items with his butterfingers over and over again made you both agree to leave a note on the fridge saying that you'll clean it up in the morning.

now he's crumbling on top of his bed and he takes you down with him just as you close the bedroom door.

"my imouto, my sweetheart," he slurs a bit, wrapping his arms tightly around you so you're resting on his chest.

there's a smile you can't bite back and you lean up to nuzzle your cheek against his, the proximity and warmth of your older brother after their absence makes the hole in your chest slowly heal, the emptiness filling up with the love you've missed out on.

tooru pulls back a bit and your lips twitch at the corners from the loss, but his palms are quick to engulf your cheeks, his thumbs tracing underneath your doe eyes. even with moonlight as the only light source, you look so breathtaking to him, like you're the only girl he'll ever see.

"love you, sweetheart," he whispers, the smell of alcohol faint, but noticeable. your nose scrunches a bit and you start to lean into one of his hands, nodding.

"love you too, nii-chan. with all my heart!"

"just your heart?" his words catch you off guard and the way you tilt your head with confusion only makes the heat in the pit of tooru's stomach grow. "you see, imouto-chan, i love you with my body, heart, and soul."

his words individually are digestible, but when put together, they only blind you even further, your brows meeting in the middle with your visible lack of understanding.

frustration lines his voice in a thin layer at the way you don't seem to really get what he's saying — how is this even possible after you've pined for him for almost two decades?

"don't you get it, sweetheart?" one of his large hands swallows yours and places your palm in between his legs where his cock is straining against his sweats and boxers ( two layers too many if you ask him ). "i want you in every realm possible."

slowly — painfully slow, you start to comprehend what he — tooru-nii, your brother, is telling you. knowledge flashes in your eyes with a deep frown and you try to pry your hand away from his too warm one, but he fights it, pressing down even harder and bucking his hips into the barely tangible warmth of your tiny palm.

"you can't run away, baby. you made this mess, so you have to be the one to clean it up. take care of me like i selflessly took care of you all these years, sweetheart."

the pressing urge to ask if this is all a joke bubbles in your mouth, but before you have the chance to let it out, he presses his lips to yours with an unmistakable moan. tooru's way past the guilt he's held on to for years and allows himself to indulge in the delectable taste of your mouth, the way you mould so easily against him, as if you were made for him — but you are, aren't you?

only when he notices that you haven't breathed in a while does he pull away, lewd lines of spit still connecting his lips to yours; he leaves them there to let the image burn itself into his mind.

"nii-chan," you choke out, "i-i don't think i can do this... it's weird. i don't love you like this."

there's heartbreak in his eyes, perhaps the very same look in yours as he left for south america one year ago, and you feel your chest clench. when his eyes gleam with moisture in the reflection of the moonlight, you gasp in panic and hurry your hands to cup his cheeks out of instinct. you'd do anything to assure that nii-chan feels better, even if it means breaking moral and ethical codes... right? you should, right? he raised you more than your parents did without asking for anything in return, except this. just one thing, one time. you can do that.

"just one time, nii-chan..." mischief returns to tooru's eyes and he nods with no intent of keeping his promise.

"i promise it'll feel good, sweetheart." his breath is hot on your mouth as his hands slide down your neck, collarbones, and your sides, groping every inch of you he can on the way. "say you love nii-chan."

when he reaches the hem of your dress, he scrunches it in his fists and lifts the fabric up, up, up until it bunches in your underarms. the playful lilt in his eyes turns predatory in a second; the way he looks over your body makes a shiver run down your spine and you rush to cover yourself with your hands, but he's much too quick. two strong hands grab your wrists and pin them down by your head as a deep chuckle rumbles in his chest.

"have you've been holding out on me all these years, imouto-chan?" gentle lips press against your cheek and you feel the curl of his smirk as he trails wet kisses down your neck, his fingers finally releasing you to lift your dress up and off your body, your bra easily undone and stripped off next. his guttural moan fills the room when his hands engulf your tits, fingers indulging as he squeezes your plentiful flesh. a glimmer of hope forms when your eyes water up and spill with tears — maybe he'll see just how unwilling you are, how much you aren't enjoying this, and stop in his tracks. the miniscule possibility is washed away like a grain of sand in a windy wave as you feel the throbbing of his cock through his clothes — the same throbbing feeling you'd experience when he'd sit you on his lap whenever you'd sob and tell him about how issei senpai didn't return your texts ( it was all his doing with his threats to fuck up during matches if issei so much as even texted a period back to you ). it's clear now that it wasn't just the tears that made him so excited, it was the lack of power you had as you slumped on top of him, like you are underneath him, too.

"i love you, sweet pea. do you love nii-chan, too?" he's more pressing than before, his fingers squeezing down on your tits to elicit a response, something, out of you. his expression remains attentive when he wraps his mouth around one of your nipples, flicking and sucking on the peak as the now free hand dips lower and lower, tracing calloused fingertips all the way to your slit where he can witness your body betraying you. his digits get coated with your slick in a matter of seconds from just teasing the petals and you can feel the vibrations of his smug chuckle against your sensitive bud.

your unskilled hands could never provide yourself with the pleasure that tooru-nii instills upon you with only a single digit and he has you moaning, back arching slightly above the sheets.

"oh, god." you want to shut up, to deny him the satisfaction of knowing that he's actually making you feel good while he defiles you, but you've never won against nii-chan in anything — this is no different. slowly, you unravel underneath him, your hands grabbing his shoulders as his lips curl up into a devlish smirk. "i love you too, tooru-nii," you murmur in response a bit belatedly.

hearing it just once is enough. his eyes light up as if you bought him a spot on the olympic team, his head lifting from your chest with a lewd smacking sound of his grinning lips, only for him to trail downwards again, his mouth hot and wet as he quickly dips into your belly button before replacing his finger at your swollen clit with his mouth instead.

instantly, you feel the difference between his fingertip and his tongue, the latter gentler, but quick as he flicks against the sensitive nub until you're whimpering so loud, your hand clamps over your mouth. tooru moves his finger to trace circles around your entrance instead, letting your juice cover the tip of it before he slides into your unpenetrated walls. when he's met with slight resistance at the end of the digit, he pulls away from you with his spit and your nectar stuck to his mouth and chin.

"don't tell me you've never touched yourself, sweetheart... iwa-chan didn't even try to fuck you?" his invasive words make your cheeks flush bright red and you shake your head vigorously in response. your nii-chan's best friend has tried endlessly to deflower you, but you'd always scare him off by saying that tooru-nii would find out and sabatoge matches in response. your threats were empty, but iwaizumi wasn't dumb enough to think that the chance of it happening was none — he's seen the way tooru hovered over you for years, always reluctant to let anyone else have your attention, the captain would've found out one way or another, though if iwa had your consent, it might've been less of a disaster.

"you've been saving yourself for nii-chan all these years, just how it should be. it's almost poetic, really." the smile on his features bring about a shudder from your frail shoulders and you start to close your legs together, but tooru pinches the inner expanse of your thigh as punishment. "don't try to hide from me, imouto-chan. let me see my present and really appreciate it the way a man should."

obedient and submissive, the way he wants you to be — the way you've always been for him — you lay there bare and embarrassed, legs spread as he starts to undress himself. the scarlet that flushed his cheeks and chest is entirely gone now, his hands no longer shaking as he tosses his shirt up and over his head, his words no longer slurring as he calls you a handful of degrading words. the alcohol is already flushed out of his system and the only thing intoxicating him now is you.

in the time he's been gone, the growth tooru has gone through is strikingly noticeable: his shoulders are wider, his arms bulging with twice as much muscle power, his chest puffier and his abs more defined, even in the dark. a hesitant hand reaches up to hold onto his bicep like you used to when you'd try to pry him off of you whilst wrestling, except this time, your fingers are stranded much farther away from each other than you're used to.

"you like how much bigger nii-chan is now, sweetie?" the cocky grin on his lips isn't visible, but it's thick in his voice. with you slightly distracted, he takes the opportunity to rid himself of his slacks and briefs, kicking them off his ankles when they pool there. his question goes verbally unanswered, but he can feel the way your small fingers are starting to run along the strong muscles that lay underneath them, as if silently worshipping.

the single chuckle that escapes his smirking mouth is enough to break you out of your trance, your hand falling from his limb so you can cover your chest with your palms. you're hyperaware of his lingering eyes and the fact that you're both naked in his bed, his gaze unlike that of a loving brother, someone that swore to protect you from other men doing this to you.

"you were made for me, sweetheart. i was the one that asked kaa-san and otou-san for you. without me, you wouldn't be here. don't you think i'm a little... underappreciated?" his words took a twist you weren't expecting and your brows furrow together as you try to process what he's trying to say — are you supposed to be at his disposal because he asked for a sibling as a kid? it doesn't take too long for him to answer your question. "personally, i think you should worship me. thank me for allowing you to be born."

if you weren't under pressure, perhaps you would've done the logical thing and shoved him off of you whilst laughing wildly. he's being ridiculous and his logic is so deeply flawed.

but that's not what you see in your head right now. right now, you see the way your parents praised tooru-nii for every achievement he's earned, no matter how small, while they had overlooked your 1st place spelling bee trophy and the full-ride scholarship you worked so hard for. you think of the leftover pieces of fruit you'd get only if tooru-nii didn't finish off the plate that your mother would meticulously cut for him, your allowance being pennies whilst tooru-nii had a trust fund. every time you'd feel dejected, it was your brother that would tell you "great job" or sit you on his lap as he fed you all your favourite fruits, even if it meant he'd get less of them. you learned to ask your nii-chan for money whenever you needed a new uniform or school supplies.

he was right. you didn't mean anything to your parents and it finally makes sense why you lived in his shadow your entire life, why you relied on him for everything: tooru-nii is your provider, your god.

as comprehension starts to light up in your eyes, your brows unfurrow and your orbs retain their usual doe shape. he sees a sense of recognition flash in them and his lips curl into a crooked smirk — you're his, like you were always meant to be.

"thank you, nii-chan," is the first thing you utter out, tears welling at your waterline again for different purposes this time. this time, you're grateful; you feel blessed to be underneath him. your pathetic whimpers reflect just how sorry you are for your resistance and you part your legs mindlessly to let him enter however he wants — and why shouldn't he? he's taken care of you like one would their most prized possession for almost two decades now.

"that's my girl." the praise rushes straight to your pussy, which just starts to leak with desire, and you moan just from his words. "i'm glad you finally understand, sweetheart. i knew you could do it." he sounds condescending, but the way his warm palm caresses your cheek and his eyes gleam as they bore into yours makes show that he meant his words in a thoughtful manner.

"want you, nii-chan," you mumble, desiring nothing more than to fulfil your life's purpose of giving tooru-nii everything he wants — you're lucky that he wants you right now.

"of course, darling," he responds dismissively, as if your words didn't make a drop of pre-cum fall from his sobbing tip. "just have to make sure you're ready is all." and he does so thoroughly, dipping his head as he lifts your legs up, up, and up until you're almosy folded in half, his own torso bent over so he can press a sloppy kiss against where he knows your clit is restlessly throbbing. he's wreckless as he spreads your slick folds with his pointer and middle finger from below, his chin almost touching the dip between his digits as he feasts on you. the textured surface of his tongue licks a thick stripe from the origin of your sweet nectar and up to your clit that he finds underneath the cloak of your puffy folds, the edge of his wet muscle roughly flicking as his mouth latches on to the surrounding skin so he can suck down.

oh, the noises you make as your hands grip his chestnut locks are almost as intoxicating as your taste, and if there's ever been a time when tooru was pussy-drunk, it was nothing compared to now: he was absolutely inebriated beyond return with you.

he repeats what he did before, tracing circles around your entrance before he slides a finger in only halfway, so as to keep the last remaining evidence of your purity intact, then another to stretch you out — to be the considerate brother he always is, of course.

your back slowly lifts and he feels your fingers curl tighter around his hair, so he doubles down, lapping at your clit with lewd smacks of his lips filling the room until he feels your body tense — and that's when he pulls away from you without pity, the desperate cry from your poor lips that've swelled from how hard your teeth dug into them making it his turn to moan.

you look debauched, but he knows that there's still an ounce of innocence left within you that he's intent on taking.

"sweet imouto-chan," he murmurs as he finally takes your aching legs, folding them so your calves rest on each of his toned shoulders, his knees a few inches from your ass that's almost lifted from the mattress. "won't you tell me you love your nii-chan one more time?" soft lips press along your calf and he noses gently as a show of affection, luring you into saying what he wants to hear again.

"love you, tooru-nii," you respond obediently, lust thick in your voice as you realise how sticky you are between your legs, how much your entrance is clenching on nothing when it should be him instead.

"that's my girl," he repeats, but you don't mind hearing the same sweet words over and over, the possessiveness behind them. from where he kneels, he gets the perfect view of your slit and how it glistens in the moonlight with as much craftsmanship as if you were a hand-painted masterpiece of art about to go up in the louvre.

his cock twitches and chest clenches when he realises that all of it is for him, and that's how it'll be from now on — he'll make sure of it. greedy palms skim down your legs and hips until he can grab at your tits, the perfect size to fit in his hold, using them as leverage as he starts to finally tease his leaking tip against your desperate hole. with skilled thumbs, he flicks your pebbled buds and leans down so he can watch as you become his.

"take it all like a good girl," is the last you hear before he pushes just the head of his cock in, but it's enough to make your eyes widen — this is nothing compared to the two fingers he used to prep you.

"i-it hur—" but he won't have any of that.

tooru pushes in deeper, harder, until he's halfway in and he can feel the resistance of your hymen disappear. but that's when your pain reaches a peak and your back arches off the bed, your tiny hands pushing at his shoulders to try and fight him. the training and growth from his time away from you was all for this moment, to make sure that he can continue going inside of you, despite how much you protest.

"good girl," he breathes out huskily, uncaring of your struggles and the tears that fall down the sides of your cheeks. you're so warm and tight and he wants you sheathed around him completely, so he does it, he takes what he wants. within seconds, tooru bottoms out until his tip is buried deep within your walls and his head lolls, unable to keep it up as pleasure pumps through his veins. "holy fuck," he groans.

your sobs have quieted by now and your body's too limp to do fight back any longer — not that it would've had any impact. selfishly, he doesn't care if you've adjusted or if you will, his hips vigorously bucking against yours so he can pump in and out of your sweltering walls. the sound of his body pounding against yours is only amplified by the liquid shame that covers your thighs and his own.

with watchful eyes, he commits the way your face contorts from pain, then morphs into one of pleasure to memory as he lifts a hand to your cheek, making his weight no longer crush down on your chest as much. he caresses your tear-stained face, feigning pity in his chestnut orbs, but the smirk on his lips is as twisted as his thoughts. god, he loves the sight of you getting fucked dumb, each and every thought leaving your head each time he plunges into your hot, wet walls, until he pushes against the spongy bundle buried deep in you — then your eyes are rolling to the back of your head.

"who's nii-chan's sweet whore?" he grits out through his teeth, trying his best to keep his head from throwing itself back so he can watch you; he doesn't want to miss a single second of this. with the way your mouth only parts to let out lewd whimpers and moans, he knows he won't get an answer, but that's alright.

your gummy walls have already tightened and pulsed around his cock over and over — no surprise when he was the first thing to ever penetrate you, let alone this deep. the hand on your chest drops to hold your hip, prompting you to arch your back as he lets the fingers on your chest find solace in between your slippery folds to draw rough circles around your throbbing clit, forcing relief on you.

"be a good little sister and cum nii-chan's cock while he fills you up," he murmurs in a saccharine voice, so sweet that his proposition doesn't ring any alarms in your head. all you do is nod pathetically and grip his biceps ( when did they get so hard to wrap your hands around again? ) as you brace yourself for another orgasm.

with the extra stimulation of his digits, you feel the coiling hot heat in your core far more than the previous times, your knuckles turning white as you try to contain the feeling, but to no avail with tooru-nii pushing harder and harder into you, drops of his sweat falling onto your tummy.

"n-nii-chan, wait—" you try. you really feel like it's too much, but you see that your cry falls on unhearing ears when tooru starts to moan louder and louder. he pulls his hand back to slap it down against your clit and that's the last thing you remember before you're screaming "nii-chan!" repeatedly in between sobs, finally letting go. your eyes clamp shut and your toes clench so hard, you might've twisted a muscle. the faint sound of "oh, fuck" in your brother's voice lingers when you feel the pressure building up inside of you become lifted, almost like relief. your fingers letting go of him one by one as the strength in your body depletes in the afterglow of your orgasm.

"cutie," his voice sounds almost... in disbelief. "fuck, you there?" his fingers give your aching clit a nudge, jolting you back to reality. "you...you squirted."

in an instant, your eyes fly wide open and you lift your head ( much to the protest of your already sore body ) to see the moisture that glistens on his torso and your thighs, a few drops falling down his legs, too.

"i'm so sorry," you blurt out, shame making your cheeks redden even further, but tooru-nii looks far from enraged or displeased. his smile only widens and he leans in to press a kiss to your wet forehead.

"and what would you have to apologise for, sweetheart?" he seems more pleased — a bit cocky, even — and he slowly slips out of you ( not without a groan ), paying no mind to the mess on his sheets as he lays down beside you, turning onto his side with an arm stretched out under his head, the other hand stroking your damp cheek with the backs of his fingers. "you've been nothing but perfect."

the sun in argentina seems so much more powerful than it is back home, your skin having grown just a shade darker despite all the sunscreen you've been using. it was inevitable with how much time you spend on the beach in a skimpy bikini each day after tooru-nii finishes practice with his team — he won't let your feet touch sand unless you're nude or only covering the absolute necessities.

after a few weeks, you've adjusted to tooru's schedule — wake up, go for a jog, eat, practice, beach, fuck, then sleep; rinse and repeat. he never asks if you miss home or if and when you want to go back. you gave up your scholarship and admission to the school you got into the second tooru-nii asked you to move to argentina with him.

the first time he introduced you to his teammates, you couldn't understand any of the conversation taking place above your head, but the catcalls and whistles that came during it made you squirm just a bit. one of them looked at your face, then nii-chan's repeatedly, asking something about siblings you're sure because he said it in english, and you paid enough attention in school to learn that word. but nii-chan just gave a friendly hit to the man's shoulder and shook his head. when you had asked tooru about it later, he gave you a confused look, head tilted.

"you're my sweetheart, darling. i might be your big brother, but i love you much more than that — we love each other more than that." his toned arms pulled you in for an embrace and you returned it with a tight smile, nodding as you lowered your head against his shoulder, a single tear escaping your wet eyes.

this was what you were made for: to serve tooru-nii, no matter where he is in the world. you're his sweet doll, his darling — his perfect imouto-chan.

#oikawa x you #oikawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #tooru x reader #tw.incest #tw.dubcon #oikawa

1K notes · View notes

choke-me-joey · 1 year

Note

30 and 37 with Joseph Quinn on Christmas day/eve while visiting family

Abso-fucking-lutely 🫡🫡🫡

Merry Christmas you horny babes!

30. We have to be quiet, can you do that for me, princess?

37. Look at yourself, you're so fucking nasty.

Joseph Quinn x reader

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, rpf (don't like don't read), unprotected sex, Joe is SLIGHTLY dom if you squint, teeny bit of degrading language, choking, mirror sex, creampie

This is the SPICIER second part to this fluffy lil drabble

Hoe-vember masterlist

After too many Proseccos, too many baby photos being shared and one too many mince pies, your extended family had left your parent's house, each one of them singing Joe's praises and begging him to come to the next family event (your cousin Sarah's February wedding, to be exact). He had promised he would try his best.

Once the majority of your family had left, your parents, brothers and Joe all took part in a very scrappy game of Monopoly, resulting in Jack almost flipping the board as Charlie bankrupted him quicker than last year; such was tradition.

After Joe had made his intentions to you very clear in the kitchen earlier, it was very hard for you to keep your hands off of him. Not in a sexual way, well, mostly, but in more of a 'I love you so, so much and I can't be without you' gross, romantic way. And he was the same, having kept his hand on your thigh, arm around your shoulders or fingers loosely linked with yours.

"Oi, knock it off," Jack had thrown the Monopoly dice at you as you and Joe exchanged a quick peck during the heated game. "Gonna make me see my dinner in reverse."

You had flipped him off and Joe chuckled, a slight blush creeping over his cheeks.

After tensions had dissolved, it was approaching midnight and one by one your brother and parents excused themselves to go up to bed. You and Joe followed suit, returning to your old teenage bedroom for another night.

Luckily, your parents had redecorated you and your brother's rooms to a more...mature reflection of you all now. Your room was now neutral greys and whites, a refreshing change from the garish purple you'd had it painted as when you were younger.

You flop down on the bed, watching Joe as he unbuttons his shirt. He catches you watching him as he slips his shirt off and lays it carefully on the chair at your desk.

"What?" He smirks. He knows exactly what.

"C'mere," you crook your finger at him, spreading your legs. He grins, cocking an eyebrow at you.

"Really? At your parent's house? Naughty." But he crawls on top of you anyway, hands coming onto the pillow either side of your head to hold him up. "All that Prosecco got you feeling frisky?"

"Don't say frisky." You laugh, pulling him down into a kiss, softly moaning as his tongue finds yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, rocking your hips up into his. "Fuck me, Joe." You whisper against his lips. He nibbles your bottom lip.

"We have to be quiet, can you do that for me, princess?"

You whine softly, the pet name making your pussy flutter. You nod.

"Good girl, baby." Joe speaks in hushed tones and honestly it's just adding to the excitement. The rush of doing this where you shouldn't really be doing this...it was kind of hot. Very hot actually.

Joe peels off your leggings and socks, groaning in appreciation at your little red lace thong. "Very festive." He smirks, pinging the waistband playfully. He then pulls off your jumper, revealing the matching red lace bra. "Matching underwear?! Oh, you little minx, you planned this, didn't you?"

"Maybe," you smile coyly. "I know how much you love this set."

"Fuck, I do. I really do." He sighs, sitting back on his heels to rake his eyes over your body. "You're so fucking perfect."

Your cheeks flush and you reach out to undo his jeans. You manage to undo the button and unzip his fly, tugging them down before he stops you, taking over himself. Once he's fully naked, Joe sits in between your thighs and pulls your thong panel to the side, watching in awe as strings of your arousal connecting your pussy to your underwear break away. "Jesus, babe, look how fucking wet you are for me. You like knowing we could get caught, hmm?"

"Just what you do to me." You reply, biting back a moan as Joe drags the hot head of his cock through your pussy lips, lubing himself up.

"Yeah? Well, feel what you do to me, babe?" Joe taps your clit with his cock, making you shiver. He then pushes inside you slowly, the stretch and feeling of him filling you making you moan softly. Joe places a hand over your mouth to muffle your noises. "Quiet, babe, remember?"

You nod, looking up at him with big, wide eyes. His cock bottoms out inside you, and he gives you a moment to adjust to him. "God, baby, you're so fucking tight. Can I move?"

You nod again, his hand still covering your mouth. He lets out a blissful sigh as he begins to fuck you deeply and slowly, each stoke of his cock against your gspot and nudge of his public bone against your clit making your entire body tingle.

Something behind Joe catches your eye - it's the long mirror standing next to your wardrobe. You moan softly at the reflection of Joe's bum and toned back as he fucks into you. How does this bugger look good from every angle?! Joe follows your eyeline. You can practically see his brain working as a grin spreads across his face. "I bloody love you, filthy girl. Wanna watch me fuck you?"

The involuntary clench of your pussy around him tells him all he needs to know. He chuckles, pulling out of you. You make a noise of complaint. He kisses you sweetly before instructing you to lay at the foot of the bed with your head hanging off the edge. You do so, watching him in the upside down reflection of the mirror as he crawls back over to you, sliding his cock back into your tight warmth. The rush of blood to your head coupled with the fact that you could watch him in the mirror fucking you with that perfect sexy look on his face made every stroke of his cock feel that much better.

Then he slides a hand around your throat, squeezing at the sides. You choke out a soft moan, and your pussy clenches around his cock.

"Fuck, you like that? Like my hand around your throat whilst I'm fucking you?" Joe growls, keeping his voice low. You whimper and nod, and he squeezes a little tighter. You feel like you're floating; everything he's doing to you being magnified by the position he had you in and the hand around your throat. "Look at yourself, you're so fucking nasty. Letting your boyfriend fuck you like this with your parents in the next room. Fucking filthy, baby."

Your eyes practically roll back in your skull as the coil inside you suddenly and unexpectedly snaps, and Joe has to quickly remove his hand from your throat to clamp it over your mouth once more to stop your moans from echoing throughout the entire street, let alone the house. He lets you ride it out, before flipping you onto your front, still able to see yourself in the mirror, and begins to fuck you from behind.

Joe keeps his eyes on yours in the mirror, dark and intense, as he grips your hips to fuck into you deeply. Skin slapping against skin, your soft moans and his quiet grunts, it's the most exotic soundtrack. Honestly it might be some of the best sex you've ever had.

"M'gonna cum again," you whine, fists balled into the bedsheets. To help get you there, Joe finds your clit and rubs rough circles into it. Honestly it's too much, and it brings you, shaking and gasping, to another powerful orgasm. This time Joe has to shove your face down into the mattress to muffle your sounds; you just can't control yourself and honestly he loves it, but that's not a conversation he's willing to have around the breakfast table tomorrow morning.

"Fuck, babe, gonna cum." Joe pants. "Tell me where you want it."

"Inside, Joe, cum inside me." You push your ass back against him and his hips stutter as he finds his release, coming inside you with a breathy moan. You shiver at the feeling of his load coating your insides, his cock twitching as he comes.

You both collapse on the bed, panting, with stupid grins on your faces.

"Merry fucking Christmas." Joe laughs breathlessly, and you giggle, burying your face into his chest.

"We've still gotta make the New Year happy, babe, think we can do that?" You grin, kissing his flushed skin. He laughs, leaning down to kiss you, one hand cupping your neck.

"Abso-fucking-lutely, love."

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn imagine #kats dickcember event #kats hoevember event #joseph quinn x y/n

390 notes · View notes

universitypenguin · 9 months

Text

Chapter 17

The Princess & the Lawyer

Summary: Elliot reveals what ‘Mercury’ referred to, unleashing a flood of bittersweet memories in Lloyd that lead him to re-explore the darkest parts of childhood and uncover evidence of a devastating betrayal. Meanwhile, Princess deals with the aftermath of her near death experience and grapples with doubts about the true identity of her stalker.

Masterlist

Word Count: 6,021

Warnings: Contains descriptions of child abuse, memories of being buried alive, description of taphephobia - aka, the fear of being buried alive, vivid description of a panic attack - written in a manner intended to draw the reader into the physical experience of a panic attack. Contains content related to police corruption, murder, criminal behavior, police investigations, a scene involving emergency room care, and stalking. Minor foul language. Only appropriate for 18+ readers. No minors allowed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chapter 17

Lloyd skirted around a thicket of weeds and ducked under the branch of a towering giant hogweed, scowling at the unwelcome intruder. The disrepair of the property grated on his nerves. He added another mental note to his to-do list for tomorrow: call a weed removal service to clean up the invasive species his father had allowed to thrive in the backyard. They rounded the thicket and the beam of Elliot’s flashlight fell on the dilapidated garage. It was halfway hidden in the woods behind the house and screened from view by the untrimmed weeds.

“What are we doing here?” Lloyd asked.

“Hang on,” Elliot said.

He pulled on the garage door handle and to Lloyd’s surprise, it swung easily into the rafters. Elliot flipped a switch on an extension cord by the door to turn on the overhead lights and Lloyd stared, speechless.

“This is what ‘Mercury’ was referring to,” Elliot said.

“A Mercury Cougar… my mother’s car,” Lloyd murmured.

“Yep. Your Dad asked me to restore it last year. She turned out gorgeous. The keys are inside, if you want to take it for a spin.”

His throat felt thick as he stepped forward to inspect the bright metallic blue paint on the 1971 Mercury Cougar. He knew every inch of this car, from the cassette player his mother had installed in the dash herself, to the buttons on the radio dial, the white leather bucket seats and the fold-down rag top with squeaky hinges. He ran his hand over the glossy paint.

“It’s beautiful. You did a great job.”

“So, you remember this car? I think she must have had it before my time,” Elliot said.

“Yeah. I don’t think I was in school yet when she was driving the Mercury. She’d let me sit on her lap and pretend to drive when we drove into town. I remember she put the cassette player in the dash by herself… She was always listening to music…”

The rush of memories startled him - crystal clear and bittersweet, they grabbed him by the heartstrings and twisted, sending a painful bolt of emotion through his chest.

Elliot shuffled his feet. “Anyway, this was where Holbrook thought I’d stashed the drugs. Everyone in town knew I was working on it all last year, so it was only logical.”

His cousin cleared his throat awkwardly and reached for the flashlight he’d set on a tool chest. “Know what? I’m gonna head in for the night. See you tomorrow.”

When there was no one around as a witness, Lloyd bowed his head and let the emotions sweep through him. He waited, expecting tears, anger, something, to come out of him… but nothing came. He felt empty. Cold. Alone.

… Abandoned.

The joyful memory of riding on his mother’s lap while she drove only stirred faint echoes of anger. It mostly dragged up a raw feeling of pain, the kind he had little experience handling. The emotion burned in his belly like whiskey and he swallowed hard as his mind replayed the scenes from the past. Even decades couldn’t wash away the smell of her heavily perfumed hand lotion as it reached across time to fill his head with its musky scent. He could remember the exact shade of her nail polish - Kelly Green - and the softness of her hand stroking his hair. Even perched on her lap, he hadn’t been tall enough to see over the wheel.

Lloyd turned away. He shut the garage door and started back to the house before the thought of Elliot waiting for him made him pause. Company was the last thing he wanted right now. He was a riot of conflicting emotions, which was exactly the state of mind Dr. Blair recommended he should avoid. Odds were, Elliot was locked in a bathroom, either shooting up or smoking meth. That wasn’t a confrontation he needed to have right now so he changed directions and headed for the barn.

It was a bad idea, but he couldn’t stop himself.

In the barn he checked on the sick calf and gave Jane a bag of oats. His mind mechanically ran through tomorrow’s to-do list, as if on autopilot. He needed to call the gravel company about repairing the washed out road and coordinate the pick up of the sick calf with April. He’d have to help her load up Jane, along with what remained of the fresh hay. The horse would board with her for a few days before her new owner came down from Coeur D’Alene on Wednesday. Then he needed to contact a weed removal service about the Giant Hogweed in the backyard and… take his cousin to rehab.

Lloyd sighed, rubbing his eyes. Yeah. He needed to do that more than any of the rest of the final chores. April had asked him to help Elliot. He had, but the job wasn’t finished yet. The decision settled his nerves, and he moved down the aisle, ready to initiate the confrontation.

Then, a chill ran down his spine.

He hadn’t realized where he was standing. He was in the middle of the barn, equidistant from the back exit and the front doors, in the center of the aisle facing the east wall. Straight ahead was the half open door of the tack room. Goosebumps raised on his arms and crawled up the back of his neck as the chill wrapped around his lungs and spread into his heart. He dragged his gaze away, but it was too late.

It was cold. It was so very, very cold.

His hands were shaking.

He watched the shaking spread to his forearms and felt it rattle through his chest. His muscles clenched and shuddered. He grit his teeth against the wave of dizziness and reached out to brace himself on the wall, but missed. Numbness came after the cold. He recognized the fumbling reaction and knew it meant he’d entered the phase where his sense of spatial awareness disappeared. Fighting for breath, Lloyd panted. He had the presence of mind to drop to his knees as the room tilted, and then he was down on his hands and knees, trembling.

He tried to move but it was as if the force of gravity had quadrupled. Lloyd groaned. It came out like a whine. He needed to get out of here. Pressure built in his chest, discomfort and then a sharp pain. It ripped through his sternum and sliced into his back, climbing up his neck. This feeling was why he’d thought he was having a heart attack when the first panic attack struck him in the middle of the night, when he was alone in his cell in France.

His muscles were rigid as the attack rocketed through him. When it eased, they went limp and Lloyd slumped to the ground. There was no point in trying to move - he’d been through enough episodes like this to know. His head was swimming, his throat hurt, and nausea roiled his stomach. Gradually, the symptoms eased, and he was able to sit up with his back to the wall. The position had him facing the tack room door.

The events that had occurred inside the tack room were known only to three individuals. One of them was dead and of the two who remained alive, Lloyd was the sole person at liberty to speak. Joe was the one who was dead and Dr. Blair was bound by doctor-patient confidentiality, and Lloyd… He was constrained by the same intangible force that had kept him muzzled for over thirty years. In therapy, Dr. Blair had resorted to hypnosis to help him shed the gag that choked him. The treatment helped. Afterwards he’d been able to talk about it, at least in his therapy sessions, but never anywhere else. Never to anyone else.

He’d painstakingly translated the ugly memories into words and then repeated those words, over and over, until he could recite them as if reading from a script. He’d written them down and burned the pages. Dr. Blair’s approach was to expose him to the memories until he could dominate them, instead of the other way around. Lloyd hated it, but it worked. The boiling temper that had been his constant companion all his adult life eased to a simmer. A few months later, the panic attacks stopped. Except for flare-ups brought on by acute stress - which only seemed to happen at night - they’d disappeared.

He hadn’t been naïve enough to think that years of therapy could overcome the effect of being confronted with the physical reality of the tack room. That was why he’d tried his best to avoid this place all week until his inability to grieve had drawn him to it.

What if he went inside? Would it help?

Just the thought of it made his guts twist with the urge to vomit. He could go inside, Lloyd told himself. His father was dead. Joe was dead, and maybe going into the room as an adult would give him some sense of victory.

Victory? He doubted that was possible. Maybe closure was a better word. You would probably use a word like closure to describe what he was hoping to achieve. He didn’t know if he believed in closure. For people like you it seemed to work, but people like him held onto things, especially negative things.

Lloyd inhaled sharply through his nose, huffing the alfalfa scented air in an effort to calm his racing heart. Having a high level of self-awareness was a major downside of prolonged therapy. He hated knowing what was wrong with him, but being unable - though, perhaps ‘unwilling’ would be a better adjective - to change. Whatever it was, inability or unwillingness, he couldn’t embrace ideas like closure. He needed the hatred and rage foraged inside of this barn because it had built a nuclear reactor inside of him that powered his every waking moment and kept him alive. That reactor was still alive inside of him, there was just a better containment system for its toxic fumes.

None of his justifications made much sense, and he knew it. But he also knew the unhealthy coping mechanisms worked, and that was why he couldn’t let them go. He held onto the irrational belief that if he let go of the hatred, he’d turn into dust, like Lot’s wife. She glanced back at Sodom and Gomorrah and had become a pillar of salt. He imagined himself in a direct inversion of that tale - if he didn’t look back, then he too, would crumble.

Lloyd used the wall to help him climb to his feet. His chest heaved with effort. The half open door taunted him. He’d already gone inside once, on his first day here, in the middle of a sunny morning, to gather up Jane’s tack. He hadn’t stepped foot in it since and had even gone as far as avoiding looking at the room. This wasn’t a good time for this showdown. It was dark, and that was a problem. Acknowledging that fear made him feel like a child, but it was too strong of a compulsion to ignore.

Lloyd moved toward the opening, feeling as if he was being sucked into a black hole. The rational part of his brain screamed at him to turn around, but something more powerful than rationality drew him forward. He stared into the dark until his eyes adjusted. There, mounted on the wall, was the bull whip his father had beaten him with. You’d think he’d be covered in scars, but that wasn’t how Joe used the whip. He’d tied Lloyd’s hands to the upper saddle rack and shoved a bandana into his mouth so no one in the house would hear.

There was a slim chance that Ingrid or Josephine would be bold enough to come down to the barn if they heard the noise.

Joe never whipped the girls - just Lloyd. When he was strung up, his father would unfurl the whip and double it over. He swung it like a billy club and stuck Lloyd in the back. He held the thin part of the whip that would have broken the skin by coiling it around his fingers. Then he’d use the thick part to cover his son in bruises. The bruises were deep because his father was a strong man with bouts of temper like a hurricane. Lloyd could take almost any beating without a sound by the time he was five. That’s probably why Joe had to think up a worse punishment. Lloyd couldn’t remember a time before the worse punishment, so he figured he must have adapted at an even earlier age than his memories could reach.

Without needing to turn on the lights to find his way, Lloyd stepped into the tack room. His feet took him to the far corner behind the lower rung of saddle racks. It was too dark to see his hand in front of his face on this side of the room, but regardless, his fingers immediately found the latch. He raised the lever and opened the small trap door. His heart was racing as the scrape of the hinge triggered an unexpected rush of adrenaline.

He was nine years old all over again. His back burned, his legs stung, and blood dripped down his temple. Of course, he didn’t cry - that would only make things worse.

The stoicism had stayed with him, a permanent feature of his personality. There was no undoing it - the abuse had carved it too deep. Even now he couldn’t offer a genuine reaction to his most intense emotions if his life depended on it. Intense emotions, except for anger, which was a different matter altogether, had an unusual effect on him. When those feelings came, he felt as if he were shoved into another room where they couldn’t reach. They still existed, but weren’t a part of him. That mental space was like Schrödinger’s box - there was something there, something brewing; it was neither real nor unreal, because he was inside the box and everything else was outside. He liked that frame of mind. It could last for hours sometimes. Lloyd wished it was permanent, because it felt blissful, like the mindset people aimed for when they were meditating.

At present, he couldn’t draw up the stoicism or enter that calm, peaceful mindset that usually protected him in moments like this. He felt panic swarming up, but even so, he just couldn’t stop. He raised the trap door and found the lip of the cover underneath. It moved like a pocket door and slid out of the way. He pushed it into the recessed compartment under the floorboards to reveal the box.

The box was cut into the floor. It was approximately the size of a coffin, but deeper than a typical coffin would be. Its thick oak boards were double wide and sealed with linseed oil. Lloyd swung his feet down, one, then the other. He tried to stand up and his knees buckled. He caught himself on the edge of the box and realized he was panting.

Unlike in Singapore, there was no smooth hardwood floor to assure him everything was okay. You weren’t here, just a room away, where all he’d have to do was cross a threshold to reach the comfort of your presence.

Instead, it was hot and the tack room was stuffy.

The box was double walled, so no one could hear him scream. Joe had always shoved him in the box after beating him. Spans of time in the box varied, but he’d recalled that he’d spent three days in it once. When he was younger, he’d tried everything to get out, expending every ounce of his energy until he was exhausted. That changed as he grew older. By the time he’d gone to kindergarten, not pre-school, there was no pre-school in these parts in those days - he’d known how to handle the box. He knew to lie still and count his breaths. To cry silently, because when he was silent, Joe would let him out faster.

Lloyd’s vision blurred. It was still too dark to see, but he felt around, searching the floor. This was where he’d hidden the pouch of rocks and arrowheads he and Ingrid collected in the woods. He remembered stashing them in here the summer after he’d passed five-foot four and had officially outgrown the box. When he couldn’t find them, he considered using the light on his phone, but decided against it. This place wasn’t meant to be seen. He could feel Joe’s ghost breathing down his neck as he ran his hands over the floorboards.

There was no leather pouch in the right upper corner, where he remembered putting it. On the chance he was mistaken, Lloyd reached into the far side of the box. His hand brushed something metal and he felt around its contours and realized it was a square metal container… no, rectangular. It was about the size of a tackle box.

Had Joe re-purposed the torture chamber as a hiding spot for drugs? It would be just like him…

Lloyd climbed out of the recessed grave and slid the lid closed, then shut the trap door. He carried the box into an empty stall and turned on the overhead light.

It was a tool box. He recognized it by its unusual teal color - his mother had kept it in the trunk of her Toyota, a vehicle Joe had bought her after the Mercury broke down. He pried open the rusted lock with his pocket knife and found a leather pouch in the top tray. Lloyd unlaced the leather ties and found the polished treasures of his childhood. They were nearly in perfect condition, if a little dusty. He rubbed one on his shirt and held it up to the light, admiring the shiny chunk of obsidian. It was a rock he’d spent hours polishing. He sorted through the pouch and recognized several pieces. A jasper stone, smokey quartz, an agate nodule, and the prize of the collection - trio of star garnets.

Lloyd lifted the tray and found a pile of cassettes. On top of them was a blank envelope, which he opened to find a couple wallet-size photographs. The first was of a little girl with pale blonde hair. She was missing both of her front teeth. He’d been the one to persuade her to tie a piece of floss around the second front tooth and fasten the other end to a doorknob. He’d even helped her slam the door to remove that final stubborn baby tooth. Josie had screamed and bled and rightfully blamed him for the painful ordeal for the next three weeks. The second photo was of a girl with sable hair. She had high cheekbones, dense eyebrows, and a full mouth. Ingrid bore such a strong resemblance to their father that it was almost hard to look at her. His eyes misted, and he felt a spasm in his chest. Anger rose as grief sliced through his soul.

They’d vanished. There had been no warning to allow him a chance to prepare for the blow. It had wrecked him. He could still remember the agony and confusion in the following days. He hadn’t known what to do with himself in the time between their disappearance and Joe’s return. At first, he’d figured they’d come back. Then it clicked - she’d really done it. His mother had snatched his sisters and taken off and they had left him behind. That moment of comprehension was when the grief set in and overpowered the anger.

He couldn’t tolerate staying in the big empty house alone, so he’d packed a backpack and headed into the woods. The following days were filled with denial. He’d pretended he was a wild boy who lived in the forest and didn’t have a family and that his sole connection with the big ranch house in the clearing was that sometimes he’d watch the people who lived there. He told himself he was only sad because the family who occupied the house was on vacation in California and he missed watching them.

He’d loved them.

He’d loved his mother, even with her psychotic episodes, because she’d loved him. The memory of riding on her lap in the Mercury proved it. Despite her erratic moods and the uncontrollable outbursts that had scared him, there’d been a level of awareness, even as a child, that she couldn’t control those things. He’d loved his sisters, too. He’d loved them more than anything in the world. If they were still alive, he still loved them.

There was a piece of paper at the bottom of the envelope. Lloyd fished it out and recognized the tri-fold pattern of a letter. It had a small piece of tape holding it shut and when he turned it over, he found his name written on the back in a looping scrawl. The handwriting was instantly familiar, though he hadn’t seen it in thirty years. The handwriting revealed the identity of the person who’d left the cassettes, preserved his rock collection, and chosen this tool box to store them in.

His mother hadn’t left him without a word. She’d left him what appeared to be the entirety of her cassette collection, a few pictures of his sisters, and she’d written him a letter.

By themselves, the items were innocuous enough but placing them in his torture chamber… that was an arrow to the heart. It was proof that she’d known what Joe was doing to him. He’d often wondered if she had a clue about what he was going through in the barn, but until now he couldn’t be sure. There was a part of him that questioned if it was possible for her not to know, but he’d always given her the benefit of the doubt. Now, there was no benefit left to give.

His mother had known Joe buried him alive under the floorboards of the barn. She’d known that he was down there, breathing in the thick, humid scent of earth that still reverberated through his nightmares today. Lloyd could forgive her for allowing the beatings. Hers were just as frequent, if not more so, than his. But the fact that she’d known about the box…

He crushed the letter into a ball.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

An emergency room doctor who looked as if he’d witnessed enough history to make textbooks jealous, splinted your wrist. You accepted his referral to an outpatient clinic and promised to schedule a follow up next week. Detective Diskant was in the waiting room with Zach. He took your statements and asked lots of questions you didn’t know the answers to.

By the time Zach unlocked the door of Lloyd’s townhouse, you felt like a zombie. The combination of adrenaline crash and pain medication was a potent one. Landon showed up with a duffle bag for his boss and they both grilled you on the finer details of Aiden’s text messages for two more hours. You tried your best to be helpful, but it was useless. They were clearly questioning whether Aiden was behind the messages and the other incidents. While you saw their point, you couldn’t think of an alternative suspect. You agreed with Zach that you should reach out to Mr. LeDoux in the morning and that you would work from home one Monday.

Lloyd was due back Tuesday. That would be a hard conversation and you weren’t looking forward to hurting his feelings, but you’d made your choices and still considered your actions to be in his best interest. Landon left at midnight and you checked that the downstairs guest room had fresh sheets and stocked the bathroom with towels before going upstairs.

Ten minutes later you were in the shower, crying.

It was so unfair. You’d only dated Aiden for a few weeks. Why would he do this? Did his bruised ego really demand such disproportionate retribution? What if he wasn’t your stalker? Who else could it be? The last two questions nagged at you, especially considering your recent confrontation with him. He’d had you alone, and he’d been free to harm you, just like the text messages threatened. The exchange with Aiden had been belligerent, but not overtly threatening. Maybe it wasn’t him.

In its overwhelmed state, your mind couldn’t tolerate that version of reality. With so much uncertainty already hanging in the air, the one fact you’d come to terms with was the identity of the threat. Knowing Aiden was your stalker helped you understand his motivations and respond accordingly. If it wasn’t him, then what? What options did you have to fight a shadow?

Your mind swung briefly to the Nguyen case, and the missing identity of Julia’s “sister.” Her identity was even more shadowy than your stalker’s and that was another question you needed to tackle. First thing tomorrow, you promised yourself. Right after you and Zach called Mr. LeDoux. The thought of calling him made your stomach pitch. Tears came even harder as your imagination took flight, bringing up questions and asking you to consider possibilities you didn’t want to think about. What if you’d accused Aiden prematurely? What if he was innocent? Then, you cried because of how miserable crying made you feel, and because of the whole horrible, rotten situation you were in, and because you were scared that it wasn’t Aiden who was stalking you after all.

You finished showering and were in the middle of your skincare routine when your phone rang. Lloyd’s name flashed on the caller ID. Sobs were still shaking your shoulders, which caused you to watch the phone ring for a moment. You worried about his reaction if you answered in this state, but he’d been so busy that he hadn’t called much this week and you needed to hear his voice. Swallowing back your tears, you answered.

“H-h-hello?”

“Princess?” The sound of his silky baritone eased the painful tension in your shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“What’s wrong?” Lloyd asked.

“I… uh… I’m watching Marley & Me.”

Silence. “You refuse to watch that movie because you know the dog dies in the end. What’s really going on?”

“I had a fight with my sister,” you lied.

“About what?”

“A lot of things… we just sort of… got into it.”

“Are you okay?” Lloyd asked.

“I’ll be fine. How are you? How’s the ranch?”

“I sold the last of the cattle, but I’ve got a sick calf in the barn. And two days ago, this evil bitch tried to kill me.”

You giggled. “Was the evil bitch an actual bitch?”.

“She was a blonde.”

“You pissed off a golden retriever?”

“Think bigger. She was a Charolais heifer with the longest horns I’ve seen on that breed. My father clearly wasn’t trimming their horns these past few years. Of all the chores to miss…”

“What did she do? Try to trample you?”

“I had a plan to get her into the trailer, she had a plan to resist, and then seized an opportunity to try and gore me.”

“I don’t know what that means, but it sounds awful. What happened?”

“I roped her.”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Excuse me?”

“It seems some skills come back under pressure. I haven’t roped anything since I was eighteen.”

“Lloyd, were you a cowboy?”

He laughed. “Every ranch kid is a cowboy, honey. It’s not that remarkable.”

“Well, I think it’s remarkable. Can I see your cowboy skills sometime?”

“If it would cheer you up, I’d give you an in-person tutorial.”

You perked up. “Will you bring your lasso home? I can think of all kinds of uses for it…”

Lloyd wasn’t amused. “I don’t think you realize what a lasso is made out of. It’s meant for animal hide, it would shred your skin.”

“What about chaps? Spurs?”

“It’s too hot for chaps in August, and if you need spurs, get rid of the horse.”

“Seriously? You’d just get rid of the horse?”

“That was my father’s philosophy. He liked his horses like he liked his people - well trained.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Lloyd, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Not really. My cousin got into some trouble, and I helped him out of a jam. He’s here with me now and… Joe’s funeral is tomorrow. I don’t think I’m going to go.”

“What kind of trouble is your cousin in? Is there anything I can do?”

“No. I took care of it. We aren’t close or anything. He’s my father’s sister’s kid; she died, and he grew up in foster care. The only place I ever saw him was at school.”

“That’s so… sad.”

He chuckled. “That sums up my week. I spent Friday hunting down the last of the cattle and ended up hip deep in a mud puddle.”

“How did that happen?”

“I was chasing a cow. She figured out that the only place she could go, where I couldn’t - at least not on horseback - was a giant mud puddle.”

“Did you rope her, too?”

“Yes. And don’t ask me how I got her out, because it’s a four hour window of time I deeply want to forget.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, fighting back laughter.

“On a totally different subject, I’m bringing home 800 pounds of beef…”

“Lloyd!”

“After what she put me through, I’m damn sure going to eat her.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“It’s called the food chain, baby.”

“I’m not eating any beef you serve me for the next two years,” you said.

Lloyd snickered. “Hippie.”

“You’re really going native on me aren’t you?”

He laughed, but it sounded tired.

“Have you been sleeping well?” you asked.

“I can’t sleep. I miss you.”

Tears filled your eyes, then spilled over. You sniffled.

“Princess? Are you there?”

“Yeah…” your voice came out as a half sob.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m sorry. I just… I’m not having a great day and the last thing I want to do is dump it all on you. You’re already handling so much.”

“Don’t worry about me. Tell me what’s going on.”

You stared at the splint on your wrist, and thought about what could’ve happened if Zach hadn’t been with you tonight. You thought of your confrontation with Aiden and the photo left on your car on Friday night. Lloyd would get on a plane if he knew what was going on and because of you, he’d miss the chance to attend his father’s funeral tomorrow. While you understood his hesitation about going, you wanted him to at least have the opportunity to go. If there was even a tiny possibility that putting his father in the ground would help him lay his demons to rest, you needed him to have it.

“Princess?” Lloyd asked.

You took a deep breath. “I’m having some problems with… Aiden. He’s… um… you know, this isn’t a conversation we should have over the phone. When you get back, I’ll tell you everything, okay?”

“Zach would be more than glad to rearrange Aiden’s face, if you asked him to. He’s been itching to do it since he met the kid.”

Your laugh was watery. “Hey. I could totally do it myself. Landon and Jake gave me a self defense lesson.”

“Because of Aiden? Why? What did he do?”

“He’s probably harassing me. Zach found out today and confronted me about it. By the way, he’s staying in your guest room tonight.”

Lloyd grunted. “Good, and you didn’t answer the question. How is he harassing you? When did it happen? Does Jake know? Nevermind, of course he does. He was probably your first call.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I thought I could handle things and it turns out I was wrong.”

“I’ll be home by Tuesday afternoon, maybe sooner,” he said.

A day and a half. You could make it that long.

“You know, this is the longest we’ve ever been apart,” Lloyd said.

You blinked. “It is?”

“Yeah. Since we started working together, we’ve never been apart for more than five days in a row.”

“What about when I had the flu? I was out for a whole week.”

“I brought you soup and medicine that Friday night.”

The memory made you smile. You hadn’t been working for him for very long and opening the door to a scowling Lloyd had been quite the surprise. He’d carried a pharmacy bag under one arm and a carry out container from his favorite restaurant in the other. The soup was vegetable noodle, with extra broth.

“I remember it now. Did you know you’re an amazing friend, Lloyd?”

“It was probably weird of me to show up out of the blue, but I had to do something. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I couldn’t cope if I lost you.”

The pain in his voice worried you. He was hurting and you wished you could stop it. Tears filled your eyes again.

“Do you need me to come out there?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ve tied up all the loose ends.”

The catch in his voice made you frown. “Lloyd, what happened?”

“I had to take care of a few things with the less than legal side of my father’s business. He wasn’t just a rancher and I had to motivate some local thugs to… move to a different scene.”

“Ah. I see. Should I find a lawyer in the area, or do you have someone on retainer? I’m only asking in case your methods attract the wrong attention.”

He grunted. “Local law enforcement is a bit tied up at the moment, but just in case, there’s bail money in the safe. The passcode is 917889 - if you can’t remember it, tell Jake it’s my three favorite Super Bowls in order. He’ll understand.”

You rolled your eyes. “I tend to forget they play the Super Bowl on a yearly basis.”

“I can help you out with that. We’ll watch my favorites together when I get back.”

“Can I take an Ambien first?”

He laughed, and the line fell quiet. You wondered if you should tell him exactly what was going on, but figured plenty of people knew already. You’d filed the official complaint with the police and Detective Diskant was putting more resources into the case tomorrow. Besides, in thirty-six hours, Lloyd would be home.

“Lloyd? I’m glad you called. It’s nice to hear your voice.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“I am, I just need some sleep.”

“Don’t work too hard,” he said.

“You’re the one who spent the last week playing cowboy. How’s your back feeling?”

“I’d rather not say because it would make me feel old.”

You giggled. “If it helps, I’d be out of commission within an hour if I tried that kind of work.”

“Princess, you don’t like your shoes getting dirty in the rain. You’d shrivel up and die at the amount of dirt and mud out here. Especially if you saw the amount of it I’ve tracked into the house.”

“I can imagine it, and it’s not pleasant. But if you need me, I’d be there in an instant. You know that, right?”

“It goes both ways. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

His words were spoken so tenderly that a lump the size of a golf ball swelled in your throat.

“I know.”

“Shit, I made you cry again.”

You wiped your face, laughing. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess, but I wanted to talk to you.”

“You never told me what Aiden did. Did he call you? Show up at the office? Your apartment?”

“It’s not important. Zach is downstairs and I’m safe. We can talk more tomorrow, just come home safe.”

“Alright. Sleep tight, Princess. I’ll be home soon,” Lloyd said.

Your heart fluttered. There was a wealth of affection in his voice that wrapped around your heart, and though it wasn’t spoken, his words held more love than any explicit confession could convey.

“Goodnight. I love you.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Next - Part XVIII

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Masterlist

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Taglist:

@denisemarieangelina

@before-we-get-started

@buckysteveloki-me

@patzammit

@badassbaker

@meetmeatyourworst

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@thiskindahotkindamusic

@jesgisborne

@charmingprincess

@amiets2

@seitmai

@elle14-blog1

@chaoticsteverogers

@kaleidoscopepov

@fangirl-and-doctor-help

@jesevans

@openup-yourmind

@kandierteveilchen

@adoreyouusugar

@awkwardgiraffe726

@pono-pura-vida

@mysweetlittledesire

@liecastillo

@marantha

@literaturelove

@babyevansblog

@lizzzaaaaaaaaaaa @thegirlnextdoorssister @ladygrey03 @cynic-spirit @rosedpetal @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bambamwolf87

@yiiiikesmish @lavenderx0 @calwitch @peachiestevie @texmexdarling @here4thefanfics @rogersbarber @spikeluv84 @dear-fifi @crayongirl-linz

123 notes · View notes

allmoshnobrain · 3 months

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 29 of 35 | masterpost

word count: 2563 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

I wasn't ready for any of that. The wounds from losing Dave were still too raw, to the point that acknowledging the desire I felt for James made my heart tighten with regret. What the hell was I thinking? I'd chosen Dave. And yet, he’d left me. What I wanted didn't mean shit in changing anything. How could I want anything from James when the very feeling I had for him had wrecked everything I held dear?

�� summary: After reuniting with her friends, Nore is compelled to confront the conflicting feelings she still harbors for James.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle

✦ a/n: Hello! I've talked about this previously on my blog, but as we're headed into the last stretch of the story, I would like everyone to know: while the next few chapters are gonna dive into James and Nore's feelings a bit more, Dave will be back! His story with Nore isn't over yet. Also, we'll have an epilogue that is still on the works. I've wrapped up the main part of the story and I'm hosting a poll to see if you guys prefer I keep posting new chapters once a week or if you're up for me posting them twice a week. If anyone wants to vote, here's the link. Hope you enjoyed the read, any feedback is welcome! 🖤

✧ There's something hanging in the air, I won't say shit 'cause I'm too scared / I'll just pretend we're two lovers not destroying each other / And you don't want me to go, and I just can't say no ✧

I met with Cliff and the guys at Los Angeles airport a few days later. I have to admit, the idea of reuniting with my friends after all those weeks left me a bit on edge, and not fully in a good way. However, catching up with Cliff and Leanne, and then with Kirk and Lars, did ease some of that tension. On the flip side, seeing Pat and James hanging out together didn't really help my state of mind. I couldn't help but wonder how, in just two months, they had become so close that she got an invitation to join the tour. Then it hit me with a pang in my heart that I hadn't needed much more than that to fall completely in love with Dave after meeting him.

I didn't really chat it up much with James. Seeing him with Pat kinda brought back all the wounds from that rainy weekend a few months back. But, he did give me a hug the moment he spotted me, holding onto me for maybe a beat longer than needed before whispering, his lips right by my ear:

"Missed you so much."

Hearing that sure didn't make things easier.

Seeing the guys all pumped up about the trip gave my mood a little boost. None of them, except Lars and me, had done the whole international travel thing before. The flight to Amsterdam was gonna be a marathon, so I had plenty of time to catch up with Leanne, who picked the seat next to mine. We mainly talked about everything that had happened in San Francisco during my absence; Leanne didn't ask much about me, which I was genuinely thankful for. It was nice having her around, but I wasn't really up for diving into how the last few months had been a rough ride. We kept the chatter going deep into the night until fatigue finally caught up with us, and we crashed.

We rolled into Amsterdam about twelve hours later, and man, we were wiped. Headed straight to the hotel, and lucky for us, the producers only snagged double rooms. Since we had an odd number and sharing a bed with Kirk or Lars wasn't my jam, I lucked out with a double bed all to myself. Honestly, better than I thought it'd be.

When night crept in, the guys and Leanne hit the town for some drinks and city exploring. Pat and I, though, opted for a chill night in, catching a few movies on the TV. Not that I wasn't up for hitting the streets, but all the hours spent on the plane did a number on me, more than I expected. Pat called it a night and went back to her room early, but I left the TV humming in the background, not really paying much attention to what was on.

It was well past midnight when I heard some heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway. My curiosity kicked in as a few deliberate knocks hit my door, and I pondered for a moment, debating whether I should bother answering. But the knocks persisted, and my curiosity won out. With a sigh, I rose from my spot and opened the door. My heart quickened when I found James leaning casually against the door frame.

"Mind if I come in?" he asked, a faint smile playing on his lips, though his voice betrayed a touch of uncertainty. I sighed, feeling warmth spread across my face. Having him so close made my heart flutter in a way I hadn't experienced in a while.

"This isn't your room," I mumbled, stupidly, my ability to think straight suddenly on vacation. He chuckled softly, a quick, dry laugh.

"If you hadn't said anything, I would never have guessed. Can I come in or not?"

I hesitated but eventually stepped aside, letting him in and closing the door. He stretched, shrugged off his jacket, and tossed it on my bed before settling down, kicking off his shoes. I furrowed my brow.

"You should head back to your room. Pat's probably waiting for you."

"She can wait," he said, finishing up with his shoes and pulling out a hair tie from his pocket, using it to secure his hair into a ponytail. Oddly, the sight made him even more attractive. I couldn't help but wonder if the hair tie belonged to Pat, who would often wear her hair tied up, and if he was picking up some habits from his new girlfriend. He stood up, seeming totally oblivious to my thoughts, and casually opened the mini-fridge, grabbing a Coke and popping it open. Then, he lifted his serious blue eyes to me. "I wanted to see you."

"Why?" I questioned, feeling my face warm up and my heart race, a million butterflies in my stomach going wild at his words. He sighed, a faint bitter smile playing on his lips.

"I missed you," he said, his voice low. "Last time we met, everything went south. I thought you hated me. Yet, when I saw you today, Nore..."

"James, please stop," I murmured, my voice trembling. He furrowed his brow, looking away, seeming hurt by my words, and I felt my heart squeeze uncomfortably in my chest. "You shouldn't be saying that."

"Oh, really?" He stood up, placing the can he was holding on the table before coming closer. I took a step back, feeling my face burn as I caught the storm brewing in his blue eyes. "And why’s that?"

"You have a girlfriend, don’t you?" I questioned, my voice holding accusation and hurt. "You brought your fucking girlfriend, so maybe you should just head back to her..."

"You make it sound so simple," he growled, taking another step closer, prompting me to lift my head to meet his gaze.

"And isn’t it?" I shot back, my tone bitter. "How aren't you ashamed of this?"

"Ashamed of what? Of bringing the girl I started dating to try forgetting about you?" he scoffed, clearly pissed now. "Tell me, Nore, what was I supposed to do? Just watch you reject me, again, and again, and again, and then act like you loved me just to mess with my head?"

"This isn’t fair to her!" I blurted out, all worked up, my voice getting louder. "This isn’t fair to me!"

"And what about me? Is it fair what you're pulling on me?"

"I don't get why you thought bringing her along was a genius move..."

"It didn't have to be genius. When you bailed on LA, I called you for days. You were the one who wanted nothing to do with me."

"You're such a jerk!" I spat out, my irritation cranking my voice up more than would be okay for past midnight, but honestly, I'd stopped caring about that ages ago.

James growled, getting suddenly closer, gripping my waist with one hand and pulling me against his body, forcing me to look deep into his eyes as he pressed his forehead against mine, his breathing erratic. His other hand cupped my cheek, his thumb tracing my lower lip. All the anger I had seemed to spill over at that moment; I wanted to punch him, to kick him out, to yell I never wanted to see him again, but I couldn't. Not when his lips were inches away from mine, his blue eyes locking onto mine with a fiery passion that made my whole body warm and vibrate inside.

"You fucking love me," he murmured, a smug smile slowly creeping across his lips. "Things would be so much easier if you just admitted it."

"Shut up, James," I growled, my heart doing a sprint in my chest, blood pulsing with fury in my ears, my hands clutching the front of his shirt and yanking him towards me. I needed him to split; I didn't know how much longer I could trust my anger to hold back the temptation of surrendering to his arms.

"Tell me you don't love me, then," he said, throwing in a sarcastic laugh. "Say you don't love me, and I’ll forget all this and leave you alone. You can't, can you? Because you fucking love me, damn it," His words buzzed with almost unrestrained joy, his grip on my waist tightening enough for me to let out a muffled moan from between my lips. Damn, I wanted him to kiss me. For the first time since all that mess had started, I wanted him to kiss me, to touch me, to make me forget my own name.

"Leave," I shot back, the defiance in my voice wavering as I sensed his body against mine. He let out a low chuckle but stepped back, his eyes ablaze, a smug smile on his face. I rested one of my hands on my chest, feeling my heart thudding against my fingertips, and noticed I was shaking. Gripping the doorknob with my other hand, I turned it but hesitated to open the door. "Just... Go, James. Please," I whispered, the adrenaline of the moment wearing off, and the old pain flooding back to fill my chest as my eyes welled up with tears.

James seemed to catch onto my shift in mood, the triumph in his eyes giving way to pity when he noticed my tears building up. That sparked a rage in my chest; I didn't need his pity. I didn't need anyone's pity.

He made a move to come closer, but I just shook my head, turning away as I opened the door. After he left, I leaned against the closed door, letting myself slide down to sit on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest, feeling more alone, confused, and guilty than ever.

I woke up the next morning, feeling like I hadn't caught a wink of sleep. I groaned my way out of bed, pausing only to wash my face, brush my teeth, and swap outfits before heading down to the hotel's restaurant. There, I spotted Kirk, Lars, Cliff and Leanne already posted up at a table, digging into breakfast. I snagged a plate and plopped down next to Lars.

“After breakfast, we'll pack our bags and grab a shower. We're hitting the road after the show for the next city, so tonight, we’re all gonna be sleeping on the bus,” Cliff was laying out the plan when I rolled in.

“Great. Even crashing on a bus is cozier than sharing a bed with Lars,” Kirk griped, ignoring Lars' offended expression before shooting me a grin. “Hey, Nore, fancy bunking with me next time?”

"As if," I scoffed, and Lars burst into laughter.

"Hey, where's James?" Kirk asked, and I shrugged. Leanne bounced up to snag a hot cup of coffee, and Cliff sparked up a cigarette.

"Bet he's sleeping with Pat. Ever since they got together, she's been glued to him," Lars remarked, not looking too thrilled. Cliff snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Jealous, Lars?" I jokingly tossed the question while slathering butter on a piece of toast. He shot me a look, raising his eyebrows with a smirk.

"Hmm, not me. Can't say the same for you, though, huh?" His ironic smile lingered. I let out a frustrated huff, rolling my eyes, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks. Okay, maybe I walked right into that one.

A few minutes later, James and Pat finally strolled in. James, much like me, seemed to have had a rough night, evident in the dark circles under his tired blue eyes. On the flip side, Pat appeared to be the poster child for joy, easy smiles appearing on her lips as she talked to James, occasionally hugging his arm or intertwining her fingers with his. It was like she exuded confidence, as if she knew this was exactly where she belonged. Kind of got on my nerves, but I wasn't ready to dig into why.

The hustle for the show kicked off right after breakfast. We only had a short break to change and pack before heading back to the hotel lobby. A producer-arranged bus was set to pick us up, transporting everyone to a studio for the guys to rehearse the setlist during the day, and later to the venue for the shows. This leg of the journey got us all pumped. It wasn't just the band's inaugural international gig; we were also looking forward to meeting Venom and, naturally, enjoying some complimentary drinks. I must admit, even I was feeling a twinge of excitement and anxiety about the upcoming events.

I sparked up a cigarette while we hung out in front of the hotel, checking out the guys in action. They were teamed up with a couple of roadies, hauling gear that had been lugged up to the rooms the day before. Leanne strolled over.

"Got a light?" she asked, flashing a grin. I nodded, fished out my lighter, and passed it her way. She sparked up her cigarette, taking a few drags till it glowed. "Can I ask you something, Nore?"

"Sure thing, Lea," I replied, all curious. She shot me a look, her usual relaxed vibe getting a bit serious. Her eyes narrowed, like she was attempting to peek into my brain. "Spill it, what's on your mind?"

"How's it all sitting with you? You know, this whole James situation?" she asked, making me feel like there was a spotlight on me.

"James? What do you mean?" I stammered, feeling the heat hit my face. She let out a soft chuckle at my reaction.

"I'm seriously wondering how she hasn't picked up on it yet." Leanne nodded toward Pat; she was holding James’ hand and talking to Lars, who seemed bored out of his mind, like he'd rather be doing anything else. "The way he looks at you. And the way you look at him."

"What are you getting at?" I whispered, my heart doing a somersault of sorts in my chest.

"You're into him, right? And it's crystal he's into you. Maybe you two should ditch the pride act and just… Allow yourselves to be happy."

"But Pat likes him too," I mumbled, letting a touch of annoyance creep into my voice. And I still don't know if I can allow myself to like anyone again.

"Honestly? I think she's crushing harder on James Hetfield, the Metallica frontman, than our James," she said with a chuckle. "Babe, you and James always clicked so easy. You seriously gonna let that slip away like this?"

I was kind of stumped for a response; right then, the bus rolled up, stealing everyone's focus. Lea crushed her cigarette and shot me a smile, then sauntered over to Cliff, offering a hand with carrying an amp. I took a minute to soak in the sight before joining them, attempting to shove aside the tornado of feelings Leanne's words had kicked up in me.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9

39 notes · View notes

imaslutformaybank · 2 years

Text

just friends ☼

A/N: he's so beautiful i'm <333. anyways, sorry for dropping off of the face of planet earth, here's this. i tried to make this a lot angstier but i apparently do not have that ability. enjoy anyways :)

one shot, blurb, or head canon?: one shot

summary: conrad and y/n have been friends since they were born, but one kiss has her questioning everything.

pairing: conrad fisher x reader

warnings: this was written at 4 in the morning while i was delirious, so :), cursing, wandering hands, one smexy kiss, i believe that is it?

wc: 3397, she's a BIG ONE.

ever since i was born, my family has gone to spend the summer at the house of my mother’s best friend, susannah, in cousins beach. it has since become my favorite place in the entire world and throughout the other seasons of the year, i am left yearning for the summertime and craving the company of conrad fisher.

this summer is no different. we load into the car early in the morning so we can arrive in cousins at a decent time. my phone buzzes, notifying me of a text.

jeremiah 🙏

can’t wait to see y’all! are you on the way yet?

my sister, belly, replied before i even had the chance to fully read the message.

bells💕

can’t wait to see you either!

yep, we left about an hour ago.

steven👺

yo, this summer is gonna be so lit!

conrad <3

dude, who says lit anymore?

-> steven does, because he’s stuck in 2018 :/

steven whipped around in the front seat as belly snickered beside me.

“i am not stuck in 2018!” he said, sounding deeply offended. i threw my hands up.

“whatever you say,” i said. the sass king rolled his eyes and turned back around. my phone buzzed again, but this time it was a private message from conrad.

conrad <3

i’m assuming he got angry at you for saying that

i giggled at how well he knows our dynamic.

-> you know it

i’m excited to see you.

the text, which was seemingly normal, caused my heart to do a flip. why did that happen, you might ask? well, if you find the answer, let me know too because i’m clueless.

last summer, conrad and i spent a lot of time alone and… i won’t say we grew closer because we were already basically bonded at the hip, but it was like we had a deeper connection with each other. i started noticing the little things about him, like how his eyes sparkle when he laughs, or how he taps his fingers against his elbows when he’s angry, or how his voice sounds after he cries. there was always a painful ache whenever we had to leave cousins at the end of the summer, but last year it was a thousand times worse.

you might be thinking “duh, you’re in love with him,” but that’s not the case. you see, conrad is my best friend in the whole wide world, so i can’t be in love with him. no way.

after hesitating for way too long, i replied to his text.

-> I’m excited to see you too :)

after a long, aggravating (solely because of steven), cramped, car ride, we finally arrived. for some reason, my heart pounded in my chest as i opened the car door and exited the vehicle. jeremiah ran out of the house with susannah following right behind him.

“what’s up?!” jeremiah exclaimed as he embraced my mom. susannah beamed and welcomed me into her arms with a loving hug.

“oh my goodness, how are you?” she asked, but didn’t give me time to answer. “oh, it is so good to see you! look at how gorgeous you are! jeremiah, look at how beautiful she is!”

you remember how i said conrad is my best friend? well, that was a lie. jeremiah would kill me if he ever heard those words leave my mouth. i locked eyes with the tall, blue-eyed boy, and smiled brightly.

“well, look at you!” he laughed, running over to me and picking me up into a spinning hug.

“hey, what are you, 7’2 now?” i asked, giggling as he let me back down to earth.

“close, actually 7’3,” he said, poking my arm. i pushed his shoulder playfully.

that’s when i saw him. he was lurking in the doorway, looking as beautiful as ever. wait, i’m allowed to say he’s beautiful, right? right. he’s my friend. i can say my friend is beautiful.

“gonna go say hi to your boyfriend?” jeremiah whispered in my ear. i elbowed him in the gut, causing him to grunt.

“hey,” conrad said, running his hand through his perfect-... his brown hair.

“hi,” i replied. we looked at each other for a moment before he opened his arms to embrace me into a very awkward hug. we pulled away and he said hello to everyone else.

“alright, who’s ready for some food?” susannah asked.

at the dinner table, i sat sandwiched in between conrad and jeremiah as our families caught each other up on the past 9 months.

“so, belly, y/n, any special guys that have your attention back home?” susannah asked. i felt conrad’s gaze shift over to me, but i did not look up from my plate of food.

“i don't really exist to the guys back home,” belly said.

“well look what they’re missing out on,” susannah said. “y/n? anyone for you?”

“um, no. no one that i can think of,” i said.

“what about ethan?” steven asked. i furrowed my eyebrows at him.

“ooh, who’s ethan?” jeremiah asked beside me.

“he was this guy that i was talking to but he ditched me for someone else." the whole room was silent and i could feel pity floating in the air. i heard jeremiah take a deep breath next to me before patting his thighs.

“who wants some dessert?” he asked, standing up. i silently thanked him for changing the subject.

“ooh, yes, i made some strawberry cheesecake,” susannah said, following her youngest son into the kitchen.

“you guys want some?” my mom asked us. belly shook her head.

“i’m alright, i’m gonna finish unpacking,” she said, standing up. steven copied her actions.

“me too,” he said. my mom then looked at conrad and i.

“wanna share a slice?” he asked me. i nodded.

“yeah, we’ll share,” i repeated to my mom. she gave us a quick jerk of her head before striding into the kitchen. “i haven’t had cheesecake in forever,” i said, leaning back in my chair.

“maybe you should come to visit more often, you know she makes them like every week,” he said with a laugh. i giggled.

“maybe i should.”

we sat in silence for a few seconds, listening to the laughter and commotion in the kitchen.

“i didn’t know you were talking to someone,” he said, all of the sudden.

“yeah. i would have told you, but i didn’t know if it would go anywhere… and it didn’t, so..” i said. he nodded slowly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“that sucks,” he said. i laughed at his bluntness.

“yeah, just a bit,” i said. awkward silence.

“i’m sorry that happened, you deserve better than that,” he said. i had been avoiding his eyes for most of this conversation, but looking into them now, i could tell he was being sincere. now, i, of course, do not do well in serious situations, so i ruffle his hair.

“awe, thanks connie,” i said. he scoffed, a smile on his face as susannah, my mom, and jeremiah brought 4 plates of cheesecake over. my mom set one in front of conrad and i.

“beck and i are gonna go eat in the living room,” she said. i nodded.

“thanks mom. and thank you for the cheesecake, other mom,” i said. susannah laughed.

“of course.”

conrad, jeremiah and i ate our slices, then i decided that i wanted to go swimming.

“you know you’re supposed to wait for 30 minutes after you eat to go swimming or else you’ll get cramps,” jeremiah said.

“that’s a myth, i’m going,” i said as i marched up the stairs.

"fine, but don't come crying to me when your stomach hurts!"

after changing into my bathing suit, i grabbed my towel and went downstairs, heading straight for the pool. i opened the sliding door and stepped outside, closing it behind me. i started my playlist on my phone and set it, along with my towel, on the edge of the pool before jumping in, the cool water causing goosebumps to erupt on my skin.

i had been swimming alone for about 5 minutes when i heard the sliding door open again. i looked over to see conrad stepping outside.

“hey,” i said.

“hey,” he replied. “mind if i join you?” he asked.

“not at all.”

he pulled his tank top off and i had to pull my eyes away from his body as he entered the pool.

“hey, i was thinking we could go to the gas station tomorrow and stock up on drinks and junk food for our movie marathon,” i said.

“oh yeah?” he asked, his eyebrows raised slightly and a faint smile playing at his lips. “what kind of movies?”

“marvel, duh. we already established this last year after our harry potter binge watch,” i said.

when you first meet conrad, you might think he’s this hot-shot that’s too cool for anything, but he’s actually 100% a nerd, and that’s just another thing to love about him.

“chronological order?” he asked.

“of course,” i stated. “there’s no other way to do it.”

“won’t it take like 24 straight hours to watch them all?” he asked, laughing.

“i don’t know, let me look,” i said, swimming over to where my phone was. ‘daft pretty boys’ by bad suns began playing as i looked it up. “holy shit, it’s 99 hours,” i said, looking back at him in awe. he began laughing.

“i was WAY off,” he said.

“just a bit,” i laughed. “do you still want to?” i asked.

“watch marvel?” he asked. i nodded. “yeah, of course.”

“good.”

we swam for a few minutes of comfortable silence before one of us decided to speak again.

“hey, c’mere, you got something in your hair,” conrad said, looking at the top of my head. i froze.

“is it a bug?” i asked. he furrowed his eyebrows.

“i don’t know, come here,” he said.

“oh my god, oh my god, get it out,” i said, freaking out and attempting to make my way over to him.

“well, come here,” he said, laughing. i grabbed his shoulders and he held my arm, reaching up to grab whatever the fuck was in my hair. he pulled it away and held it in front of me, and i could feel the panicked expression leave my face. “it’s a leaf,” he laughed. “you were freaking out for nothing.” i splashed some water at him and his jaw dropped. “oh, really?” i shrieked as he sent a shit ton of water my way, attempting to protect my eyes and splash him at the same time. “holy shit!” he laughed.

i made an attempt to run, which wasn't very smart, considering we are in water, and he caught me. his arms were looped around my waist and he lifted me up, spinning me around and pinning me against the side of the pool. he then began tickling me, causing a wheezy laughter to fall from my lips.

“sto- stop! conrad! i’m gonna kick you,” i laughed, trying to catch his hands. i finally managed to grab his wrists and push them away from me. “you’re a fucking asshole,” i said, out of breath from laughing so much.

“you're the one that fucking started it,” he laughed. one last giggle escaped my lips before i realized what a compromising position i was in. conrad was dangerously close to me and i was still pinned against the side of the pool.

i looked up into his eyes and my heart pounded in my chest as he stared down at me. i couldn’t stop myself from glancing at his lips and my grip on his wrists loosened. my mind was screaming at him to back away, but all my heart wanted was for him to be even closer. he raised his right hand, cupping my face and using his thumb to pull my lower lip down. in this moment, all common sense fled my brain and i wrapped my arms around his neck, closing the gap between us as quickly as possible. i pressed my lips against his and he reacted quickly, moving his lips in sync with mine as he grabbed the undersides of my thighs and lifted me up. i parted my lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into my mouth and he took that opportunity very quickly. his tongue pushed against mine and i let out a pathetic whimper into his mouth as i felt his hands grab my ass and pull me closer to him, if that was even possible.

this isn’t right. this shouldn’t be happening. but, the taste of him on my tongue is so good, i never want this to end. our tongues continued dancing around with each other until i finally had the strength to push him away.

“i’m sorry,” i said, keeping my hand steady on his chest.

“what? what’s wrong?” he asked.

“we shouldn’t be doing this,” i said.

“why not?”

“because we’re just friends,” i said. his jaw slightly dropped.

“you know that’s not true,” he said, his voice low. i nibbled on my bottom lip, knowing i shouldn’t miss the feeling of him kissing me, but missing it anyways.

“i have to go,” i said, almost in a whisper.

“wait, y/n-” he was trying to reach for me, but i had already hauled myself out of the pool. i grabbed my phone and towel, wrapping it around me before running inside.

i closed the sliding door behind me and bolted up the stairs to my room, closing the door behind me. a few seconds later, i heard quick footsteps approaching, but i didn’t move a muscle. a knock sounded out on the door but i didn’t open it.

“y/n. please, open the door,” i heard him plead. “i just want to talk.” when i didn’t answer, he sighed. “if we’re just friends, how come you’re avoiding this conversation?” he waited a few more seconds before i heard his footsteps leaving.

for the rest of the night, i had to repeat to myself, ‘we’re just friends,’ but a nagging thought kept returning to my head. why am i avoiding the conversation if we are just friends?

i woke up the next morning to someone knocking on my door. i rubbed my eyes and sat up, yawning.

“come in,” i said, my voice sounding raspy. susannah walked into my room with a bright smile on her face.

“good morning,” she sang out.

“good morning,” i replied with a smile on my face.

“so, if you didn’t already have any plans for the day, i was thinking that you, belly, your mom and i could have a girls day out. get some shopping in, get our nails done, all that good stuff.”

i thought about the plans i had made with conrad to get junk food and watch marvel movies… and then i remembered our kiss.

“yes!” i said, a little too eagerly. “yes, that sounds great.”

“alright, well, get dressed and we’ll leave in about… 45 minutes?” she said. i nodded. she smiled and stood up, exiting the room and closing the door on her way out.

i groaned and let my face fall into my hands. i can’t believe i fucking kissed him. i can’t believe i fucking liked it. this is gonna ruin our friendship.

with a heavy heart, i dragged myself out of bed and forced my feet to walk over to the closet.

“we’re home!” susannah yelled once we got home from being out the whole day. no replies. she sighed and rolled her eyes. “we brought food,” she called out. footsteps came pounding down the stairs and i laughed when steven and jeremiah appeared.

“food?” steven asked. i rolled my eyes when he took the bag of food from belly and went into the kitchen. everyone followed behind him, eager to stuff their faces.

“jeremiah,” i said.

“hm?”

“where’s conrad?” i asked, unconsciously missing his presence.

“i’m not sure. he just said he was going out,” he replied. i nodded and followed the flock of hungry people to the kitchen.

later that night after everyone was asleep, i found myself in the kitchen. i opened the fridge, in search of a bottle of water, but all i got was the fright of my life when i closed the door and saw conrad standing in the dark.

“holy fuck! what are you doing? you scared the shit out of me!” i said. a slight smile played at his lips but he covered his mouth.

“i’m sorry,” he said, obviously trying not to laugh. i found myself having the same struggle. a laugh escaped and i shook my head.

“you’re a dumbass,” i smiled at him.

“i was just trying to get a water,” he laughed.

“well, me too, but instead i got a heart attack,” i said, lifting myself onto the island. a few seconds of silence passed before he spoke.

“can we talk?” he asked.

“we’re talking right now,” i said, even though i know that’s not what he meant.

“you know what i mean,” he said. i pursed my lips.

“what do you want to say?” i asked.

“well, first off, thanks for ditching me today,” he said, leaning against the counter opposite me. “i went to the gas station and got all of your favorites,” he said, motioning to the bag sitting on the island next to me. i suddenly felt the urge to cry.

“i’m sorry,” i said, looking down at my hands. the fact that he still went and got all of my favorite snacks even though i was avoiding him… god, why does he have to be so perfect?

“look at me,” he said. i obeyed immediately, looking into his green eyes. “why’d you run away last night?” he asked. i hesitated.

“i didn’t know what i was doing. we’re just friends,” i lied.

“y/n, friends don’t kiss like that,” he said, walking over to me and placing his hands on the counter on either side of me. my heart began pounding again as the scent of his familiar cologne enveloped me. “tell me the truth.”

“i was scared,” i said. his eyebrows furrowed.

“of me? did i do something wrong?” he asked. i shook my head no. “what were you scared of?” he asked, his voice soft. i looked back down at my hands. i’m not gonna be able to say this to his face.

“of admitting that i’m in love with you,” i said, just loud enough for him to hear. his breath audibly hitched. everything was silent and still for the next few seconds. with his left hand, he grabbed my chin and forced me to look up at him.

“you’re in love with me?” he asked. i nodded slowly.

“yes,” i said. he pursed his lips.

“why were you scared of telling me?” he asked. i took a deep, shaky breath.

“because i knew that it would become real once i admitted it to you and myself. i don’t want to ruin our friendship,” i said.

before i knew what was happening, we were kissing again. this time, it was slow and loving. lip locking that felt like it was making up for years of secret pining and yearning. once he pulled away, he pursed his lips.

“can i tell you something?” he asked, his left hand now holding the back of my neck and his right resting on the side of my thigh. i nodded.

“you’re not going to ruin our friendship. i’m in love with you.”

i didn’t think one sentence could cause such relief and content until i heard those words leave his mouth.

“you promise?” i asked. he held his right pinkie up. i linked mine with his and he kissed his hand. i mimicked his actions before wrapping my arms around him and laying my head against his chest. he rested his chin on my head and rubbed my back, letting me sink into the warmth and comfort of his body.

“i feel like i’m missing something,” steven said. oh no.

#the summer i turned pretty #conrad #conrad fisher #tsitp #tsitp conrad #the summer i turned pretty imagine #conrad imagine #conrad fisher imagine #tsitp imagine #the summer i turned pretty one shot #conrad one shot #conrad fisher one shot #tsitp one shot #tsitp fic #the summer i turned pretty fic #the summer i turned pretty fluff #conrad fluff #conrad fisher fluff #tsitp fluff

681 notes · View notes