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pualaha · 2 years

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i drive alone past your street

I wrote this a year ago and meant to post it then, but I was going through a rough time, so here it is!! I am really excited for it!

a/n: hello friends! so here is the first fic on this page. this was requested a while ago on elena’s page, but y’all know what happened sooooooo. anyway, please enjoy this song fic of Olivia Rodridgo’s song, “Drivers License”. however, this was really long and the timeline does not match the one in the show (we made most of this up as we went lol), so please understand the mistakes there might be. we love you guys <3.

DISCLAIMER: WE DO NOT OWN ANY OF RIVERDALE- NOT ITS SET OR CHARACTERS!! I ALSO DON’T OWN OLIVIA RODRIGO’S SONG, “DRIVERS LICENSE”, BUT I DID CHANGE A FEW WORDS AND THE RIVERDALE STORYLINE. ALSO GIF CREDITS TO WHOEVER TOOK THE ONE I POSTED

!⚠️TW⚠️!: breakups, foul language, drugs, drinking, sexual assault,

mentions of: sweet pea (obvi), pretty much all of the teens in riverdale, pop tate, fp jones.

meanings of abbreviations: y/n- your name, y/l/n- your last name, y/m/n- your middle name, y/ms/n- your mother’s name, y/d/n- your dad’s name, y/b/n- your brother’s name, y/s/n- your sister’s name, y/n/n- your nick name.

word count (including lyrics): 3,664

type of fic: angsty/ sad

sweet pea x female serpent reader

bold: lyrics

italics: flashbacks

bold italics: alternate reality

I got my driver's license last week Just like we always talked about 'Cause you were so excited for me To finally drive up to your house

you were beyond ecstatic. finally, you had your own freedom- a drivers license! you called your best friend, toni, to tell her the good news. she told you to go to pops chock’lit shoppe to celebrate, the place with the best milkshakes in all of america- or so you liked to believe.

you got to your destination and walked inside ready for a fun, but relaxing evening with your best friend. one that you had needed for a while. however when you walked inside there was a loud bang and people shouting ‘surprise’. shocked, you started laughing and ran to toni. of course, you were happy to see your serpent family celebrating a huge milestone in your life, but you were looking for the person who you had been missing the most. someone who was so excited for you to get your license so you could drive to his house instead of walk at night- sweet pea. sadly, you knew he wouldn’t be there. you had broken up two weeks ago and he would be with the, well what you serpents called the north side queen, josie mccoy.

after the party, that lasted way too long for your liking, you drove along the south side of riverdale. you claimed that you just wanted to get of feel of the car you had already been driving even before you were legally allowed to, but in reality, you wanted to see if he was home and if he was, was she with him. the answer to both of those questions happened to be yes, making your heart break on a day that it was supposed to make it rejoice.

But today I drove through the suburbs Crying 'cause you weren't around

a week had passed since you got your license and truly you were so thankful for being able to drive. you could clear your head, go to parties, have car sleepovers, which happened more often than many believed, and now that school had started- drive to school. since it was the start of a new school year meant you could meet new people and get your mind off of sweet pea, which was impossible to do. since your circle ran so closely.

every time the serpents were together, josie was always there with him. even in the most important and secretive meetings, she was there and no one seemed to care. things were worse at school, though. sweet pea no longer sat with you and your friends and almost every time you turned a corner, there they were all over each other. he was never this touchy with you and that hurt the worst. what did she have? ‘everything.’ you thought.

you, along with toni, fangs, cheryl, betty, archie, jughead, and veronica, sat in the commons area, talking and laughing. you wanted to laugh and have fun, but you just stared out the window at the two unlikely lovers.

“earth to y/n,” fangs, one of your best friends snapped his fingers in front of your face.

you shook your head, “sorry.”

“what’re you thinking about?” he furrowed his eyebrows.

“how are you guys so okay with this,” you pointed to sweet pea and josie, “i mean he doesn’t even talk to you guys when i’m around. how are you not hurting?” everyone turned to you, but fangs and toni looked at the ground.

“of course it hurts, but we weren’t involved with SP like you were, we didn’t have that connection with him, babe. however, that doesn’t mean i wouldn’t love to see them break up.” toni sighed. tears brimmed your eyes as you saw them laugh, like throwing their heads back type of laugh.

you picked up your stuff abruptly, accidentally hitting the window hard, “i just remembered that i have to go.”

everyone looked at you with confusion, except for sweet pea who looked a little bit guilty, but that expression didn’t last long.

getting into your car, you started to scream and cry. you let everything out. finally, you decided to go to yours and sweet pea’s favorite- scratch that, used to be favorite- spot. neither of you had been there since the breakup. it was on the north side of riverdale, in the woods. you two went there because to you, it felt like you guys didn’t belong to the wrong side of the tracks.

there was a little fort you guys built that had blankets, pillows, and a cooler. everything was in the same place, more run down and messy, but almost nothing had changed. it reflected you perfectly- broken with signs of him left around. the blankets and pillows reeked but you didn’t care. you snuggled into them, laying in the woods of the riverdale suburbs and cried. you cried until you feel asleep, your mind drifting into another memory.

And you're probably with that one girl Who always made me doubt She's so much better than me She's everything I'm insecure about

a meeting had been called at the whyte wyrm. you were dreading it but only because you were dreading seeing sweet pea and josie, but they never showed up. you hated that, which was weird. you thought that if they weren’t around you’d feel better, but you didn’t because at least when they were there you could see what was happening. you knew what they were doing, where they were and whatnot, but they were gone, you didn’t know anything now. which scared you more than seeing them together.

honestly, you weren’t surprised about him breaking up with you and going to her, you knew it was only a matter of time. she had clear skin, lived on the north side, could drive months before you could, she was taller, her hair was much prettier and fuller than yours, hell she could sing, and her body. her body was crafted by aphrodite herself. everything about her was desirable. and although you were trying to convince yourself that you were surprised, you weren't.

Yeah, today I drove through the south side 'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

today was the day of a bonfire. you had no idea why the serpents were throwing one, but they really didn’t need a reason. 4 weeks, 4 days, 19 hours, 10 minutes, and 50 seconds, that was how long you two had been broken up. you should’ve been over him by now.

“hey topaz, fogarty, y’all wanna get plastered?” you raised a cocky smile. this was the first thing you had said since you got there. the two looked at you, knowing this would be a bad idea, but you needed it.

“you’re so on, y/l/n!” Fangs jumped up and ran to get beers.

toni scooted closer to you and grabbed your hand, “hey, love, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“toni, it’s been almost 5 weeks, i should be over him!”

‘y/n, girl, you guys dated for more than two years, you shouldn’t be over him, not even close.” you shrugged her hand off.

“please, t, let me do this, i need this. plus it won’t take me long to get drunk, i am a lightweight!” you both laughed as fangs came back, arms full of beer.

“you ready, serpent goddess?” he eyed you.

toni looked at him with a lost look, “did you just call her ‘serpent goddess’?”

“uh yeah. what do your ears not work? she is the daughter of two of the most respected serpents and her family has been in the serpents the longest- she has a pure serpent bloodline.”

you smiled, “okaaay, fangs, i like that. prepare to lose to the serpent goddess.” you all laughed. unbeknownst to you, a dark-haired boy was looking at his old friends missing them, but mainly looking at you, wishing you could be friends again.

a few hours later and 5 beers down, you were drunk off your ass. so badly that you were flirting with almost everyone you saw. it was all fun and games until someone grabbed your butt.

“woah,” you shook your head looking around to see who did that.

“sorry, princess, ya jus look too good to not talk ta,” a random serpent smiled with ugly crooked teeth.

“um, don‘t, please.” you whispered to the ground.

“wha was that, ya’re gon have ta speak up,” he lifted your face.

“lea-”

“hey! you heard her, she said leave.” you were cut off by him. something you never expected. your eyes grew wide.

“wha’d ya say boy?”

“i said leave her alone, it’s not that hard.” by now everyone had stopped talking to look at what was unraveling before their eyes. FP started making his way to the center.

“what is going on?” the big man yelled.

“nothin’." the crooked smiled man snarled.

“that’s what i thought, y’all go back to doing what you were.” FP yelled to the crowd, making them disperse leaving the two of you alone in the middle.

“are you okay, y/n/n?” sweet pea went to grab your arm.

“i’m fine.” you dead panned, jerking your am away. he lifted his arms in surrender and walked away. you turned around wondering why he came to your rescue, of course you were thankful for that, but he hadn’t made a move to talk to you since the breakup.

And I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever now I drive alone past your street

“shut up, sweet pea! you annoy the hell out of me!” you screamed at him.

“i annoy you? really? dude, imagine what it’s like to be with you! you are so whining all the time! that’s all you ever do! bro i am so tired of it.” he slammed his fist into the table. you flinched back, “did you just flinch? is that what you think of me, y/n? that i would hit you?”

“what- no- baby-”

“ya’know maybe we do need to break up. i think that’d be for the best.”

“what? no sweets, please-”

“leave. you can get your stuff tomorrow.” he faced the opposite direction. you were both crying, and despite your whole body screaming at you to run to him and stay, you turned around and left. something neither of you expected. something else that surprised you both was the fact that he didn’t run after you.

it had been a bad day, a really bad day. on top of the breakup, your parents were going through a rough patch. your dad would go on these drinking sprees. they never lasted more than 2 weeks, but what he did during those two weeks, only he knew, and he claimed he was too drunk to remember anything so you never knew what he did.

sweet pea normally helped you when your dad went wild. no one else knew, you didn’t want people to feel bad for you or think badly of your parents. you were, like fangs put it, the serpent goddess. you were one of the only people who had married parents that seemed to love each other, you lived in a house- not anything like the north side but a house nonetheless, your grades were exceptional and you were sitting in the top 5 of your class. everything on the outside made it seem like you were the ‘perfect’ south side girl. so there was no way anyone else could know.

you had just gotten home from school to find your dad gone and your mom bawling on the couch, which sucked. there was no way you could deal with that mess at the moment. this made the already terrible day, worse. but at least home had your bed and no one could pick on you like everyone at school had decided to do today. especially cheryl. although you were toni’s best friend, that never stopped the red head from treating you like scum.

finally you were in your room, able to sleep but you noticed crumbled up paper on your floor. your room was a mess, but this seemed out of place, mainly because you hadn’t seen it there before. confused, you started to unravel it when you saw the words, ‘my girl’. of course sweet pea copied it from the actual song, but he did because he knew how much you loved both the movie and song.

you had made up your mind, seeing him was your best option. you needed to know why he didn’t run after you when you broke up and why he saved you at the bonfire. getting in the car you kept on talking yourself up and saying that he wanted to talk too. so you drove to his house. thankfully, josie wasn’t there. you walked up to the door, then chickened out. no you couldn’t do that, it was too hard. however, it was like the universe wanted to laugh in your face, sweet pea opened the door.

“y/n/n?” he asked.

“sweet pea, hey.”

“what’re you doing here?”

you looked around, wondering what to do with your hands because they suddenly felt awkward and sweaty, “i shouldn’t have come, you’re probably on your way to see josie and i don’t want to keep you.” you turned around.

“hey, y/n, wait.”

“yes?” hope.

“please don’t, come here i mean. it’s rough for the both of us. and i know this has been really hard for you, so spare us both the pain.” and it was gone.

“are you serious right now? you’re hurting? sure.”

sweet pea rolled his eyes, “i know it doesn’t look like it, but i am.”

“are you sure,” you scoffed, “ because you seem to be real happy.”

“hey-”

“also why the hell did you get so protective of me at the bonfire?”

“because you were making a fool of yourself!”

tears rolled down your face and in the quietest voice, you said, “how are you so okay? because i’m not.”

“y/n/n-”

“don’t sweet pea! don’t call me that! i’m so sorry. i-i’m gonna go now.”

And all my friends are tired Of hearing how much I miss you but I kinda feel sorry for them 'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do

“y/n, get up,” toni yelled through the window in your room. it was sunday, days after you tried to confront sweet pea. you didn’t leave your room bed when someone called, you wouldn’t let someone in your room. it had pissed your mom off. when your dad was going through his phase, you were her rock, but now both you and your father were down in rabbit holes and she didn’t know how to fix it.

“no,” you croaked, too quiet, but toni still responded.

“you have to get up one day,” the pink-haired girl groaned.

“come on girl, lets go get milkshakes,” fangs yelled, too loud.

toni audibly hit his arm, “shut up dufus, she can hear you just fine.”

you just sighed, you hadn’t been talking or moving for days so your body and throat ached, but you could ignore the pain- it was a super power that everyone in riverdale possessed. finally you had noticed silence and prayed that it would stay that way, you weren’t ready to see people, but there your friends were kneeling before your bed with faces of pity. you didn’t even hear them come in, too engrosed in your thoughts.

you shook your head, avoiding eye contact with them, looking through them like they were glass. then the tears came again. you were surprised that you still had the water left in your body to cry. you literally hadn’t moved from the position you were in since you got in it. the bed fit around you perfectly, like it was engulfing you, whispering, “stay, i won’t hurt you. stay.” so you stayed.

crying and mourning the broken relationship 24/7 made you feel like your friends would get tired of you. you believed that soon enough they would leave you and honestly, you were thankful. the faster they left, the more you could hurt and get over it. right now was the perfect time to leave. yet, there was still a tiny part that had hoped they’d be with you every moment. luckily it was the latter.

taking a deep breath in, you whispered, “please don’t leave me.” your mouth betrayed your mind, but you didn’t care, you needed them with you.

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs And pictured I was driving home to you

“hi baby! i’m home!” you shouted to your soon-to-be husband.

sweet pea came running around the corner to pick you up, “i have missed you so much, did you know that?”

smiling, you responded, “baby you are the definition of ‘golden retriever boyfriend’. i loved you.”

“i love you, too, pretty girl,” his expression turned serious, “seriously, everyday i see you a-and your beauty just amazes me. i truly am so lucky. some would even say, the luckiest man in the world.”

“you are too good to me, mr. sweet pea.”

he licked your face, becoming playful again, “i know, mrs. sweet pea.”

“eww,” you tried to wiggle from his grip, “this is what i mean by golden retriever boyfriend, you’re a dog!”

“oh baby girl, i can show you dog,” he winked. you made a disgusted face.

“absolutely not.” you both laughed.

“i can’t wait until you come home to me everyday,” he whispered, dragging you to the couch.

confused, you said, “i already do.”

“no, no, i mean like- when we’re married and we can leave this place and move to a beautiful city. a real home.”

“sweet pea, i don’t care where we go. you are my home.”

Red lights Stop signs I still see your face In the white cars Front yards

Can't drive past the places We used to Go to 'Cause I still fucking love you, babe

it felt like you’d hit every single red light on the way home from school. which of course it wasn’t that many, but sitting in your car felt like forever. you looked out the window to see a white bmw. this reminded you of sweet pea, who told you how it was his favorite car and that he wanted to buy one someday. then you saw his face, in the driver's side of the car. the license plate read, ‘SerPent’. clever. of course, next to him was the girl you wanted so badly to hate, and kind of did- josie mccoy.

he parked and ran over to her door, opening it and bowing, like a knight. something he never cared to do for you. she had a cute little picnic basket hanging on one of her arms and a blanket on the other. he grabbed the blanket and sat it down on the beautiful green grass, making you realize it was the front of josie’s house. her house was huge, definitely more than two stories. it was white all around with those roman columns supporting the balcony on the second floor. it amazed you and no doubt amazed him, too.

the curly-haired girl looked at you and smiled, giving a little wave. you just nodded your head, and drove away when the light finally turned green. you went to the old drive-in movie that closed down a while back. this was the first place you ever had sex. it was the best night of your life. opening up to sweet pea about your non-existent sex life took months, so when you were redy to have sex with him, he was slow and sweet- passionate. you were thankful it closed down because him sharing the only thing that the two of you had left with someone would kill you. that was your experience with him. yours.

Sidewalks We crossed I still hear your voice In the traffic We're laughing Over all the noise God, I'm so blue Know we're through But I still fucking love you, babe

“baaaaaabyyyyy,” sweet pea cried out. you two were in toni’s truck getting back from a date in greendale, currently stuck in traffic. “baby please look at me.”

you ignored him and looked out at the window. you were pissed at him for getting into another fight before you left the restaraunt.

“y/n, look, baby, i truly am sorry-”

“save it, sweet pea,” you deadpanned. of course, right when you wanted to be angry, your favorite song turned on. sweet pea smiled and turned the volume up way too loud. then, in an effort to make you laugh, he started belting out the words, messing up multiple times.

‘haha! see, y/n/n, i see you smiling over there!”

“shut up, whore,” you laughed. he tickled your sides as you begged for him to stop. finally, he did.

“hey, but in all seriousness, i am sorry, but i swear i’ve been working on it.”

“i know, my love, and i’m so proud of you,” you kissed his cheek.

then he grabbed your chin, pulling you back to kiss his lips, “i love you, pretty girl.”

“i love you, too.”

'Cause you said forever now I drive alone past your street Yeah, you said forever now I drive alone past your street

father pea <3:

‘foreverrrrrr, i promise. rat’

you looked at your messages with sweet pea. the last text between you too in 7 weeks. you let out a chuckle at his name. remembering how he asked you to him daddy, but you couldn’t do it without laughing, thinking about saying, ‘ father pea’ instead.

“i love you, too. rat,” you cried, in a small voice, “forever.”

#sweet pea #sweet pea x reader #riverdale #sweet pea x you #sweet pea x y/n #sweet pea imagine #drivers license #angst #sweet pea fanfiction

52 notes · View notes

springtyme · 7 months

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hii!! i saw ur inbox open and was wondering if i could request this; so, imagine dad!simon (or konig idm!!) having his son / daughter see his face for the first time since they were born and theyre just kinda sitting there like :000?? hes so pretty?? while yn is just screaming in the back?? <33 have a great day n thnaks for reading x

𝐔𝐧𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ♡

Thank you for the request, I had such a good time writing this! I love writing dad!Simon so much! ♡ but also, ngl, the image of this big bloke wearing a mask in front of his baby seems borderline comical to me.

Simon Riley x afab!reader || Masterlist || Ghost playlist

summary: Your daughter finally sees her father's face for the first time.

word count: 2.2k

warning/tag: Mostly just dad!Simon fluff with a little hint of angst. No gendering terms are directly used for the reader, but they are pretty fem coded. It's mentioned that they were pregnant. No use of y/n.

As the soft morning light filters through the curtains of your bedroom, you slowly begin stretching your limbs and blinking away the remnants of sleep. As you slowly settle into wakefulness, you hear the screeching sound of the baby monitor on your nightstand coming to life and you feel how your heart flutters happily in your chest as a familiar sound comes through. The sweet sound of your daughter’s happy coos, accompanied by Simon’s deep, gentle voice, fill the room with sweetness.

“Morning, sweet pea,” Simon’s voice crackles through the monitor followed by the sound of your baby happily gurgling at her father and then exclaiming a little more whiny sound. “Yeah, yeah, I know you’re hungry, but we have to get you changed before we can make breakfast, lovie.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you lie there, basking in the warmth and comfort of your bed. The love and joy that echo through the monitor remind you of just how much love fills your home. It’s moments like these that make your heart swell with an indescribable sense of happiness.

Your mind wanders, and you find yourself reminiscing about the journey that brought you here.

From the moment you and Simon first met, there was an undeniable connection, a spark that ignited and grew into a love that was both fierce and tender. However, it hadn’t been that easy to convince him that he in fact was deserving of such love. He had been scared that he would mess it up, mess you up, convinced himself that he wasn’t able to make anyone happy and that he was broken beyond repair. But you had been rather insisting, and he had finally let his walls crumble and let you into his heart.

And as you had expected, all his worries had been unfounded. He is the best, most loving partner you could ever have dreamt of.

The love you share with him is a love that feels like home.

And then, the arrival of your daughter added a new dimension to your love story. From the first time you had held her tiny hand, you knew that your family was complete. Watching Simon transform into the most loving and doting father has only deepened your admiration and affection for him.

And as you lie here, reminiscing on your life, you can’t help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the love that surrounds you.

With a content sigh, you finally pull yourself out of bed, ready to start the weekend with your little family.

As you make your way down the stairs you can hear the sound of your daughter’s laughter from the kitchen, filling your heart with warmth and you can’t help but smile and make your way towards the source of the joyful commotion. As you enter the room, the morning sun gently illuminates the kitchen, casting a soft glow over the room, and you are greeted by a heartwarming sight. Simon is standing at the stove, stirring a pot of millet porridge, your daughter’s favourite, while she is sitting in her highchair, which has been moved away from the kitchen table and closer to the counter, so she can see what Simon is doing, clapping her hands in delight.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, mingling with the comforting scent of the porridge. You can’t help but feel a surge of immense love and gratitude for the man who stands before you, effortlessly balancing the roles of partner and father.

Simon turns towards you. “Good morning, love,” he greets you, his eyes twinkling with warmth, the bottom half of his face covered by a black mask. He had started to wear it around the house again after your daughter had been born.

“Good morning,” you reply, your voice filled with a mix of amusement and adoration. “I see you two are having quite the breakfast party.”

Simon laughs softly and nods. “We thought we’d surprise you with breakfast in bed, but it seems that someone couldn’t wait,” he says, glancing at your daughter, who just giggles in response.

You walk over to them, planting a soft kiss on Simon’s masked cheek before planting another on your daughter’s, much chubbier, one. “Well, I can’t say I’m disappointed. This is the best way to wake up,” you say, gazing at your little family with a heart full of love.

Together you finish cooking breakfast, porridge for the baby and scrambled eggs and turkey bacon for you and Simon.

You begin to set the table as Simon picks up your daughter, supporting her with one arm as he settles her on his hip, so he can move her chair back to the table, but before he can grab the chair he stops dead in his tracks.

Your little girl has grabbed a fistful of his mask in her tiny hand. She doesn’t seem to be pulling on it, or otherwise trying to take it off him, but she also doesn’t seem to want to let go of it when Simon gently takes her hand to get her to release her grip.

“Sweetheart, please…” Simon says softly, but he trails off, a wave of emotions flickering over his eyes, but they end up having a sort of determinant look to them as they lock with his daughter’s.

You feel how your heart skips a beat as Simon lets go of her little hand to instead grip the place his mask is fastened.

With a deep breath, Simon removes the mask, revealing his face to your daughter for the very first time in her young life. You feel goosebumps rise along your arms as Simon’s features come to light. The room falls silent, and time seems to stand still.

Your daughter’s gaze is fixed on Simon, you can see a whirlwind of emotions flickering across her little face.

It’s a pivotal moment that holds the power to change everything. You can see how Simon, too, feels a mix of emotions coursing through him.

He has once mentioned to you that he was afraid that his scars would scare her, but you have had a suspicion that something else might be the reason he has kept the mask on in front of her for.

He does have a few scars from his work, but they are nowhere near severe enough to scare anyone. You do have another theory to why he has kept it on, one he hasn’t directly confirmed, but a conversation from your pregnancy has stuck with you.

He had voiced his concern that something would happen to him on the battlefield. not because he was that concerned for his own wellbeing, he knew what the risks of his job was, but because he was afraid of something happening to him, leaving you and your little one alone in the world. He had, on the whole, had many worries about becoming a father.

He had been worried that his past had broken him so severely that he couldn’t be the dad your daughter needed him to be. Like the fear he also had about you and your relationship in the beginning of it, the fear that he couldn’t be the man you deserved.

He has, in all the time you’ve known him, done everything to disprove that concern, he is the best partner you could ask for and now the most lovable dad to your little girl, but you know that he still has his concerns and that his feelings about them are valid.

You think the mask has served as a sort of safety blanket for him. Like he thought that it would be easier for you and your daughter to lose him if your little girl couldn’t remember his face, or something like that. You find that thought heart rending.

You know that his job comes with a risk, you had known it when you got together and you had known it when you married him and you had known it when you got your daughter. Losing him on the battlefield would be your worst nightmare come true. You know that he is smart, strong and capable, but you also know that there are no guarantees in war, which, to you, is just all the more reason for your daughter to know her father’s face, but you have let Simon choose for himself when he was ready for that.

But you don’t want to think about any of that right now, so you push those thoughts away, and instead let yourself be completely mesmerised by the sight before you

Your little girl focuses on his, now revealed, face, taking in every detail. Her eyes widening in surprise, curiosity, and perhaps even a hint of fear, her little mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ of surprise as she absorbs every detail of her father’s face.

“It’s just me, princess,” Simon tells her, his voice filled with a mix of amusement, nerves and an overwhelming love for his little girl. His eyes, once guarded, now shine with warmth and affection.

The confirmation of his voice is what convinces her. A wide smile spread across her little face, revealing the adorable dimples she has inherited from Simon, on her sweet, chubby cheeks. She lets out a happy squeal, as she realises that it really is her father who’s now smiling down at her, a set of dimples matching hers on his cheeks.

She giggles happily, which, to you, is the most beautiful sound in the entire world. Her little hands starting to explore Simon’s face, her tiny fingers tracing the lines and contours of it. It’s a gentle and tender gesture that speaks volumes. You watch in awe as the beautiful moment between your daughter and her father unfolds in front of you. It’s a moment you will cherish forever.

When she finally seems satisfied with her mapping of his face with her small hand, she turns her head to look over at you with an excited expression on her little face, one that conveys something along the lines of ‘you seeing this too?’ Her eyes lighting up, reflecting the genuine joy that fills her little heart.

“Yeah, baby, that’s your daddy,” you smile at her, and she lets out another happy shriek before looking back at Simon again, happily nuzzling her little face into his neck. “He’s handsome, isn’t he?” You continue as you step forward, placing a hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles over the dusty rose bodystocking that she is wearing, one that Simon picked out when he got her ready and you still laid in bed.

You look up at Simon, a soft smile on his lips as your eyes lock.

“He never wants to believe me when I tell him, but he is actually the most handsome man I know,” you say, with a playful glint in your eyes. “He’s probably the most handsome man in the whole world, actually.”

Simon chuckles, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Oh, come on now,” he replies, his voice a mix of embarrassment and amusement.“I think you might be a bit biassed there, love.”

You shake your head, a warm smile spreading across your face. “Nah, I don’t think I am,” you state, wrapping your arms around both Simon and your little girl in his arms. “Just stating facts. I actually got the most handsome husband and the most beautiful daughter in the whole wide world.” you say with a content sigh, hugging your little family tightly.

It’s a hug that speaks volumes, conveying love, affection and acceptance. In this embrace, you know that you truly have the most beautiful family in the world.

As you finally let go of them you place a sweet kiss on your daughter’s little nose. She giggles joyfully, and you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratefulness over what a happy little girl you have. Simon seems to be thinking the same as he smiles down at her.

But your adorable little troublemaker doesn’t seem to be done with causing havoc yet.

She reaches out her tiny hand and grabs for the mask again. Simon hesitates for a moment, looking down at the fabric in his hand, the symbol of his past, before letting her have it. The mask, once a symbol of his doubts and fears, now becomes a simple toy for your daughter as she happily shakes it up and down, a cheeky grin on her little face.

You and Simon lock eyes, and then the two of you burst out in laughter.

As your laughter fills the room, a sense of pure joy washes over you. You look at Simon, his eyes sparkling with happiness, and you know in this moment, that the love and bond the three of you share is unbreakable, and it fills your heart with an indescribable warmth.

With a deep sense of gratitude and contentment, you take a mental snapshot of this beautiful moment. It’s a memory that will forever be etched in your mind, a testament to the strength of your love and the joy that radiates from your little girl.

As the laughter subsides, you gather your family close again, embracing the love and happiness that surrounds you. In this embrace, you know that you have everything you could ever need.

Your daughter’s laughter and Simon’s unwavering love fill your life with immeasurable happiness, and you couldn’t be more grateful for the beautiful family you have created.

3K notes · View notes

maplesyrupsainz · 4 months

Text

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙just say yes | CS55˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: father!carlos sainz x y/n faceless reader (she/her)

genre: social media au, established relationship

warnings: so much fluff 0 angst just lovey dovey cuteness & fun ! idek if there's much of a plot tbh lol

summary: in which you, your boyfriend and your daughter are the target of everyone's jealousy & you bask in it 😊

a/n: hiii i luv this request so cute & i havent done any carlos fics yet!! i love it he's soo beautiful fr! i've done the baby faceless tbh i felt a bit weird looking for pics hahahah anyway hope u like it 😊😊

request!!!: Can you do like a smau where carlos has a daughter and it's just fluffy as HELL !! And ofc we need lando and charles being goofy in the comments!

my masterlist

instagram ->

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, and 682,674

carlossainz55 vacationing with my girls

view all 11,356 comments

yourusername im soo lucky

carlossainz55 that's me actually. i love you

yourusername i love u!! sm more

landonorris you guys are always rubbing your perfect lives into our faces it has to stop

charles_leclerc i agree it is too much now

yourusername maybe if either of you could keep a girlfriend you could be like us

landonorris cant commit

carlossainz lando you need to grow up

charles_leclerc leave him alone he's a baby

yourusername i prefer the term pussy 🤷‍♀️

landonorris y/n i thought we were friends

yourusername we are it's called tough love

carlossainz55 sorry lando but she's right

user1 i missed carlando interactions

user2 me too so happy to see the carlando domestics continuing through instagram comments

user3 even funnier with y/n involved she's literally just an extension of carlos i love it

user4 best couple in the world

user5 only couple in the world more like

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and 218,426 others

yourusername he wont even put the ferrari merch down in the off season

view all 4,189 comments

yourbff omg baby in ur sunglasses she's fr a mini u 😭😭

yourusername i know, i've never felt love like it 🥹

carlossainz55 me when i look at you

yourbff take your sickly sweetness out of my replies 🥲

user6 i love how all their friends are jealous of them too😭😭 it's not just us

charles_leclerc he's dedicated 😊

carlossainz55 thanks for being on my side charles 🙏

yourusername ur biased

yourusername gosh why are f1 drivers so annoying

landonorris i know you're not talking about me

danielricciardo or me

maxverstappen1 or me

yourusername well i actually wasnt but now i am

oscarpiastri me?

yourusername no never you oscar my fav rookie

yourbff

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 121,376 others

yourbff babysitting duties

tagged: yourusername, carlossainz55

view all 2,893 comments

carlossainz55 am i in trouble in that pic of us

yourbff she was explaining to u that u brought the wrong pickles home for her

carlossainz55 so yes then

landonorris wtf is the wrong pickles a pickle is a pickle

yourusername shutup little lando you dont understand me

charles_leclerc well duh ur a woman his pea brain cannot comprehend women

yourusername ur one to talk!

landonorris 🤐🤐🤐

yourusername ur her favourite aunt!!

yourbff @.yoursister told you so!

yoursister wow that hurt y/n

yourusername no wait

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 302,748 others

yourusername happy first race of the season i love my boys so much

view all 8,883 comments

scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55

user11 omg i love her

user12 this is the cutest post ever

charles_leclerc omg y/n being nice to me

yourusername it's the hormones and ur cute face getting to me ur soo pookie

charles_leclerc what is pookie

oscarpiastri dont ask

yourusername it means i love u 😊

carlossainz55 we are all so lucky to be subjects of y/n's affections so don't question it ok?

user13 omg carlos is so down bad lol it's adorable

landonorris come visit us too we miss you y/n

yourusername well i might. can i squish ur cheeks?

landonorris i'll think about it

yourusername im not coming till i have a yes for sure

yourusername posted a story

liked by yourbff, scuderiaferrari, and 121,847 others

user14 CHILDREN?? PLURAL??

user15 yes y/n we get it ur the luckiest girl alive

yourbff purrrrr

yourusername LOL??

landonorris share him? 🥹🥹🥹

yourusername not a day in my life

yourusername now let me come squish ur cheeks. charles let me do it

landonorris ok fine.

yourusername YAYYY

user16 most gorgeous man alive fr

yourusername posted a story

liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo, and 98,183 others

carlossainz55 come back here

carlossainz55 please come back we miss you

charles_leclerc not you sneaking off. is carlos annoying you too??

yourusername you are too mean to that boy!!!!

mclaren you can stay with us!

yourusername poachers!! im much too loyal

user17 omg lol im obsessed

user18 SOO CUTE

f1wags

liked by carlossainz55, user6, and 73,294 others

f1wags carlos after the race with his longterm girlfriend y/n y/l/n today 🥹

tagged: carlossainz55, yourusername

view all 3,935 comments

user19 she needs a ring asap

user20 r how long have they been together now??

user21 like 8 years lol

user22 carlos liked 🥹🥹

user23 they r so personal to me

user24 do u think they know how much everyone loves them & is jealous of them

user25 absolutely & they love it lol

user26 if they ever break up im done with love

user27 idk who's luckier her or him

user28 they're the definition of soulmates

user29 the world will stop on their wedding day fr

carlossainz55

liked by yourusername, yoursister, and 728,193 others

carlossainz55 my perfect family

view all 13,438 comments

user30 stop it 😭😭😭

yourusername how did we create somebody so gorgeous😭

landonorris not you asking this as if you both aren't the most conventionally gorgeous people to ever exist

yourusername HAHAH shutup lando you are always slithering around to ruin our sincere moments

landonorris SLITHERING?!

user31 omg slithering 😭😭😭??

user32 lol at lando's comments he's like us

charles_leclerc let me babysit soon

yourbff why you coming for my job

carlossainz55 dont fight over my child

yoursister miss you guys!!

carlossainz55 we will have to come visit soon

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

user33 put a ring on it carlos

liked by yourusername

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, yourbff, and 231,023 others

yourusername night off from baby

view all 6,173 comments

yourbff everyone in the world is in love with you

carlossainz55 right well they need to back off

yourusername tehehe

user37 wow she's unreal

user38 wifeee

carlossainz55 you are so beautiful

yourusername 🥹🥹🥹 i love u

carlossainz55 i love you

landonorris Y/N?? YOU DIDNT INVITE ME??

yourusername ...girls night

landonorris BUT YOU ALWAYS SAY IM ONE OF THE GIRLS

charles_leclerc i wasn't invited either mate

yourusername im so sorry. you guys are grown men though

landonorris no im one of the girls

user39 one of the girls 💀

user40 i love lando & y/n's friendship so bad

carlossainz55

liked by yoursister, yourusername, and 733,984 others

carlossainz55 our week off so far

view all 17,293 comments

user41 i want her

user42 join the club

charles_leclerc is y/n available for brunch tomorrow

carlossainz55 yes

yourusername i am?

charles_leclerc that is fantastic y/n we will pick you up at 11am

yourusername we?

charles_leclerc yes!! see you then

yourusername ?? WHAT

yourbff aww i love my y/n

carlossainz55 yours?

yourbff yes she is mine! tyvm carlos

yourusername hahahahaha

yourusername i love u both

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted stories

liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo, and 334,756 others

yourbff pretty pretty girl

yourusername yup

carlossainz55 i told you you'd enjoy yourself 😊

yourusername yup

user43 omg the brunch with charles?

user44 so effortlessly cool

user45 looks delicious tbh. you not the food

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by carlossainz55, yourbff, and 123,284 others

user46 brunch & then the beach??

user47 hmmmm

user48 wuu2

user49 charles forcing her to brunch & then this???

carlossainz55 posted a story

liked by yoursister, landonorris, and 892,293 others

yourbff 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

user50 MY PARENTS

yoursister AHHH!!!!!

landonorris heeheehee

charles_leclerc ur welcome mate

user51 OMG FINALLY

user52 OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

user53 OMG IT'S REAL!!!!

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 792,673 others

yourusername luckiest girl alive

tagged: carlossainz55

landonorris congratulations parents

yourusername aww love u our little lando

charles_leclerc congratulations beauties

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55

yourbff my gorgeous girl with her beautiful daughter and some guy

yoursister the most beautiful amazing woman you've ever seen and then.....carlos

yourusername mean girls!!

carlossainz55 no they're right perhaps?

user54 LOL barbie & ken vibes

danielricciardo CONGRATULATIONSSSS 🥳

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55

lewishamilton congratulations ❤️

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55

user55 😭 so happy for them

user56 im obsessed with them.

user57 best couple on the grid period

user58 the most beautiful family ever. SO JEALOUS!!!

THE END ❤️

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 x reader #smau #carlos sainz #cs55 #cs55 x reader #cs55 imagine #ferrari #cs55 fluff #maddie's smau

2K notes · View notes

toxicanonymity · 5 months

Text

Bodies.

7.8k, raider!Joel x f!reader

reader has no physical description, pics are for mood

raider master | playlists: raider, sweet pea (smut) SUMMARY: Uninvited guests make a nice evening devolve into disaster, but when they're gone, Joel takes a big step 💋 A/N: follows Hunger. Ty to this ask about flirting; arm anon; @gracieispunk for the B/W pic; @xdaddysprincessxx, @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog, and others who've discussed his name, @javier-penas-wifexx420 for asks, @milla-frenchy for listening, everyone for your patience and support. @toxicfics for notifications, @toxicrecs for fic recs. WARNINGS: I8+ canon typical violence, tension, possessive/aggressive reader, angst, self-harm scare, references to skin carving scars, hurt/comfort, Joel is a little grumpy, exhibitionism, grinding, dacryphilia, leather choker, bj with ball sucking, unsafe P in V, creampie, obsessive unhealthy toxic dynamic, Joel can hold reader, reader can hang onto Joel.

Raider POV of smut.

The dog has stuck around for more than 24 hours now. He's a good dog. He’s working on a duck foot while you, Joel, and Carter eat by the fire. The evening air is cool but mild. The sky is clear.

Joel and his men spent most of the day working on the van and looking for parts. The dog sat with you while you read a book. You made a wildflower crown and put it around the dog’s neck. When one of the men walked in your direction on his way to the woods, the dog jumped in front of you and growled. Joel looked impressed.

Now the fire is keeping you toasty as the sky fades from blue to black.

“Tommy!” you call out to the dog to see if he reacts.

Carter chokes on his food, but quickly recovers. His eyes are wide.

“What’d you say?” Joel asks, ominously quiet. When you don’t respond, he reaches over to gently turn your head toward him. The look on his face makes your stomach turn.

“I thought you’d like that one since it’s a type of gun,” you explain.

“No.” He shakes his head, “I don't like it.” He lets go of your face. “Namin’ the goddamn dog,” he grumbles under his breath. He puts down his plate and stands up.

You’re afraid to ask, but when Joel silently walks off toward the woods, you look at Carter. He asks, “He tell ya anything about his family? His brother?”

Your face is hot and your tummy feels dizzy. “He said he didn’t have any family.”

Carter raises his eyebrows, then he's quiet for a moment and stares at the ground. His face becomes studious.

“What,” you ask.

“Ain't my place,” Carter looks down apologetically.

A few seconds later, watching your face, Carter adds the obvious: “I wouldn't go there.”

"Yeah," you whisper. Anything about his family. The question weighs on you. You really don't know Joel, do you?

Carter changes the subject. “He’ll come around on the dog.”

You perk up. “You think?”

Carter nods, then adds, “Sorry ‘bout Daisy,” squinting solemnly.

“Thanks,” you nod, then can’t resist asking, “Joel wasn’t. . .married, was he?”

Carter shakes his head and doesn’t elaborate. At least there’s that. But still. His family.

You're unsettled, and you try to distract yourself with other dog names, mentally going through a list. Bullet. Clover. Duck. Joel doesn’t have to know he has a name.

Apparently, Carter is thinking about the same thing. He tries to cheer you up. “Gun names, huh? Pistol, Rifle--”

“--Rifle??” You crack a smile.

“Hey, there's no bad ideas,” Carter laughs, and you giggle.

“What about Bullet–”

“--Shh,” Carter nods toward the tree line. Joel is on his way back.

As you finish eating, Carter tries to make small talk with Joel to break the tension. Joel doesn't say much. You ask Carter how he makes his jerky, and he walks you through it. It doesn't sound hard. You could probably do it yourself.

—--Carter—--

The three of you are sitting outside by the fire after dinner. You’re on Joel’s knee, and Joel slides his hand up your dress a little bit. Carter averts his eyes and watches the dog work on his duck foot, making happy little growls and wagging his tail. Hard to say whether you and Joel are about to go inside and fuck, or if Joel’s just copping a feel like he does twenty times a day.

You have Joel wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never been like this before. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never made a girl his in the years Carter’s known him. Joel’s always been a man of focus. He’s always been a tough guy. He’s always had a temper, but at this point, he’d tear a man to shreds just for looking at you wrong. It’s scary, and it’s a lot of mess to clean up. Carter’s seen Joel do some crazy shit, but never as crazy as turning one of his own men into a scarecrow for an off-hand comment. Carter knows Joel better than anyone, and it’s clear to him that Joel is crazy about you.

The dog drops the duck foot, growls and barks, then takes off and runs toward the back of the trailer. You get off Joel’s knee to go after the dog, and Joel’s arm around your middle stops you. As Carter stands up and puts on his rifle, a high-pitched shriek comes from behind the trailer. Joel grabs his rifle off the log, and Carter says, “it’s cool,” holding his hand out. He won’t hesitate to yell if he needs Joel. “Go inside, sweet pea,” Joel tells you. You take your time going.

Carter goes around the back of the trailer and trains his rifle on two figures cresting the hill. The dog has stopped short of them and is keeping his distance, but he’s still barking and looks ready to pounce, like he’s holding himself back.

“DON’T MOVE,” Carter booms, then keeps his rifle fixed on the pair and slowly approaches them. When Carter reaches the dog, the dog’s barking fades into a low growl.

They drop their backpacks and put their hands up.

“What’re ya doin’ here?” Carter asks.

The woman clears her throat and follows it with a demure smile. “Went huntin’, came back ’n our house was taken.”

Carter nods and looks back and forth between the two of them. They’re both decent looking. Some resemblance, maybe siblings.

“What do y’all want,” Carter asks, then spits over his shoulder.

“Nothin’,” the man claims. “Just cuttin’ through on our way to the road.” His eyes pan down Carter’s shoulders and arms. Carter squares his shoulders and adjusts his grip on the gun.

Carter nods hesitantly. “Can ya hang tight for me? Don’t want ya walkin’ into gunfire.”

They nod in agreement with a hint of fear. They shouldn’t be trouble. They aren’t carrying much.

Carter walks backwards for a few slow steps, then nods and turns around toward the trailer. Carter sees you spying in the kitchen window and gives you a reassuring nod as he goes around the trailer to talk to Joel.

"They're alright, I think," Carter tells Joel.

"What do they want," Joel grumbles.

"Nothin'. . . Cuttin' through on their way to the road."

Joel nods.

“Lost their house, didn’t say who took it.”

Joel’s brow furrows and he nods. “Armed?”

“Not heavily,” Carter answers.

“Bring’em around. Let’s find out who took their house.”

“You got it,” Carter says.

—---- 🌸you 🌸 —---

You move to the window facing the yard and the fire pit with logs around it. As they walk around the trailer, you overhear that they’ve been traveling most of the day. When they stop by the fire, you wait a few minutes, thinking they’ll leave. Then they take a seat, and the woman sits on the log next to Joel’s, on the end of the log closest to him. Your chest tightens. When she smiles at him, you scoff out loud to yourself. You start to go out the front door, then stop and go to the bathroom. You look in the mirror and open the flannel. You run your finger over the faint, healed letters on your skin, and you leave your chest exposed. You adjust your thigh holster, then go outside.

When the door opens, Carter looks over his shoulder and announces, “There she is.”

Joel introduces you. “This is, uh. . .”

“Jill,” she pipes in.

“Ron,” the man nods at you.

A couple. They must be a couple. They look a little alike, but not enough to be siblings. Joel leans forward with his elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped, connecting with your eyes for a moment, sharing something near a smile before his eyes fade back to serious.

Joel doesn’t make room for you in his lap, but he doesn’t tell you to go back inside either. He looks alert and on guard. There are four logs and five of you. You sit on Joel’s log and feel satisfied when he doesn’t scoot toward Jill to make more room. He doesn’t mind you being right up against him. Carter’s on the log to your left. Jill talks about their house and what was going on when they got back from their hunting trip. Ron is quieter. He glances at Carter a few times. Jill keeps looking at Joel. She talks too much.

Jill says they saw Infected behind the trailer park. Joel and Carter look at each other. Your stomach twists, but you study her face, and you don’t trust her. Attention. She wants attention. She wants Joel’s attention. Joel is better than Ron – bigger, stronger, better looking. There were no Infected. She’s making it up for attention.

Everyone is quiet for what feels like a full minute. You look her dead in the eye and break the silence with a soft, matter-of-fact, “No you didn’t.” Joel gives you a cautionary look, and you add, “We would’ve seen'em. We were there yesterday.”

Jill raises her eyebrows, bemused. “Just one,” she admits with a little smile. “My brother took care of it.” She nods to Ron, and the fact that they’re siblings makes you hate her.

“Where,” Joel asks flatly. You wish he wouldn’t speak to her at all.

“Woods behind the junkyard,” she answers. “Thought ya’d wanna know,” she shrugs. It’s quiet again. Nothing but the fire crackling and the dog growling happily.

“Thanks,” Carter mumbles.

Jill’s gaze lingers on Joel. She seems pleased with herself. Joel looks away, sits back, and crosses his arms. Now she’s checking out his arms as they bulge out with his hands under them. Your heart races. Anger simmers under your ribs.

"Bet ya could handle anything that comes over that hill," she purrs at Joel. Your nostrils flare. Your eyes are glued to her. You don’t blink. She looks at Joel’s pants and wets her lips. Your heart skips a beat. It feels like a personal attack. You pop up from the log.

Joel makes room in his lap and looks at you as he replies, "Carter here could handle'em, too,” with a nod to his left.

Joel must have expected you to sit on his knee like you were before they showed up. He clears his throat as it becomes clear you’re going to fully straddle him. His nose twitches and his eyes sparkle. He puts his arms around you loosely. His hands rest on your back to help you balance. You scoot closer and he helps you settle in so your crotch rests on his. Your head is in the crook of his neck, facing toward Jill to keep an eye on her. It doesn’t take long for a familiar bulge to twitch under you.

Your arms are around Joel. Your hand runs over the handgun in the back of his pants, and he tenses.

Jill has the nerve to speak again. “That can’t be comfortable,” she laughs.

“You can’t be serious,” you snap back.

“Shhhh,” Joel whispers into your hair. “‘S’okay, baby.”

“I’m comfortable,” you tell Joel.

“I know, sweet pea.” He nuzzles his nose at the top of your ear. “‘s’okay, baby,” he whispers. You rock your hips into him, feeling him grow harder. He pulls you tight, adjusting your weight. He moves one hand to your thigh. You grind yourself into him and he lets out a little “mm.”

“Um, okay,” she mumbles in disgust.

You snarl and turn your head away from her, back toward Joel. Then you turn your head toward Carter. Carter is absentmindedly examining the bite on his hand. Ron is spaced out, watching Carter’s face. Then, his eyes fall down to Carter’s lap.

“You’re bit,” Jill announces. “Ron, he’s bit!”

Ron snaps out of his daze, sits up self-consciously, and when his eyes fall on Carter’s hand, his face hardens.

Carter protests, “It’s not–”

“--It was the dog,” your head snaps back toward Jill. “It doesn’t look anything like Infected.” She just wants attention. She wants drama.

“It was the dog,” Joel repeats, unamused. It sounds like a warning. Joel’s hand on your thigh nudges the gun loose from your holster. Your hand wraps around the handle of the gun in the back of Joel’s pants.

“Lemme see it,” Ron demands. He stands up and points his gun at Carter. He snarls with a look of disgust. His face has completely transformed since a moment ago.

“SIT DOWN,” Joel booms and grabs the gun out of your holster.

Carter starts to offer, “I’ll show-”

“No ya won’t,” Joel snaps as he stands up with you still wrapped around him. Joel points the gun at Ron. “Come into my yard, orderin’ us around?” Joel’s deep voice vibrates in your ear, then he whispers, “Go inside,” as he tries to let you down. You take the gun out of the back of his pants. “Inside, now.” You put your feet on the ground.

“Nobody owns this land,” Ron laughs.

“C’mon, man, y’all know how it works,” Carter seems to try to de-escalate. “Show some respect.”

You slowly, carefully recede into the shadows, but you don’t go inside.

Jill points her gun at Carter and demands, “Show us.” With everyone else’s eyes fixed tensely on each other, you can approach her from behind, undetected. Two guns are pointed at Carter and one at Ron. Carter reaches for his rifle, and Ron braces his own gun with both hands. Ron cocks the hammer, and you quietly approach Jill from behind.

Ron adjusts his finger on the trigger, and Joel shoots him in the head. Jill screams.

It all happens in an instant: You lunge forward, tackling her to the ground, making her drop her gun. You could shoot her in the head, but something makes you toss your gun aside. You can't stop yourself from putting your hands around her throat. She claws at your chest and breasts. She slaps you, and it stings. You elbow her in the face, keeping one hand on her neck. She keeps clawing at you. “Stupid whore,” she spits.

“I'm only his,” you snap back. She laughs. “And he’s mine,” you pant and put your palm over her face, covering as much of it as you can, putting all your weight on her. Before she can bite you, Joel’s massive hands are firm around your arms, pulling you off. You resist, and he wraps an arm around your middle.

“‘S’okay,” he repeats as he pulls you off, and lifts you into standing. “Go inside.”

You hesitate and he firmly adds, “Now. I'll handle this.” He gives you a look that says he means it. Then he turns his attention to Jill. She coughs as you walk away. She whimpers and plays up how injured she is. Pathetic.

“Hey,” Joel’s voice softens for her. “You’ll be alright,” he tells her. You glance back and he’s what? He’s straddling her. He has his hands on her face. Is he . . .stroking her hair? You can’t see well enough. Your chest burns, and you start to turn around completely, wanting to approach them.

But Carter whispers, “C’mon, let’s go,” and gently takes your elbow.

Maybe it’s for the best. You walk with Carter in a daze. Maybe you were seeing things. No, Joel is comforting her. Your Joel is straddling and comforting the woman who just slapped you and called you a whore.

“It's okay,” Joel reassures Jill again, then you hear the loud crack of her neck snapping.

You feel a lot of things. Joy, relief, guilt–not for being happy, but for doubting Joel.

Carter opens the trailer door and you go inside.

For a few minutes, you just sit at the table. Your relief at Jill’s demise quickly fades when you realize she died thinking Joel liked her. Joel acting sweet with her even for a few seconds was more than she deserved.

Now you can't calm down. All your muscles are tense. You start to cry, then you go to get a glass of water. Your hand is shaking and you can hardly hold the glass. You want to throw it, but you put it down, still empty, on the counter. You take a deep breath, bury your mouth in your shoulder, then scream as loud as you can, until you're out of air and your throat is sore. You cough and spit over the sink, nauseous from the effort. Then you slump down onto the kitchen floor in tears.

Almost as soon as you hit the floor, the front door opens. It's not Joel, it's Carter.

“What happened?” Carter rushes over to you.

“Where's Joel?”

“Haulin’ a body.”

“Which body? Don't let him touch her!”

He looks at you, stunned for a second, then says, “Not hers.”

“You promise?” you try to choke back tears.

“God damn, you're both losin’ it,” Carter mutters to himself. Then he hesitantly reaches for your shoulder. “Shhh, it's okay.”

You lunge toward him on your knees and let yourself fall onto his chest. He looks over his shoulder then hesitantly hugs you. “Okay,” he whispers with his hands very lightly touching your back but not resting their full weight. He gives you a moment, then clears his throat. “I've gotta. . . ” He lets go, stands up, and fills the glass of water. “Here.” He puts it on the table, then comes back to you.

“Been a long day, huh?” Carter asks. He squats down and takes your elbow in his hand. “C’mon.” You wipe your eyes on your flannel and stand up. He guides you to the table with his hand on your back and pulls out a chair for you. He leaves you at the table with your water.

—--

You sit there for a minute, sipping your water. Then go to the bathroom to splash your face. You stop crying. You fix your hair. But your eyes are still misty. You look at your chest in the mirror. She scratched you. You can see a couple of her scratch marks better than Joel’s name. Your chest heats up as you stare at it, and your heart beats faster. You take calming breaths. You want her to go away. You don’t want anyone on your skin but Joel. You dab your chest with a cold washcloth. The worst scratch is right over the ‘J’.

You open the medicine cabinet, don’t find anything useful, and close it. You go to the kitchen and find a pocket knife in one of the drawers. You bring it back to the bathroom and open the sharpest blade. What if you just. . .if you make the ‘J’ a little better, maybe. It’s like she goes away. How should you do it? You look down at yourself. You can’t really see. You look in the mirror and bring the knife to your chest. The hand-eye coordination is hard in the mirror.

You’re looking in the mirror, holding the pocket knife in your hand, when the front door opens and slams shut. Joel’s boots thud, then stop. He says your name. “You okay?”

You sniffle. He approaches the bathroom door. It's not shut. You move toward the door to shut it, but you're too late. Joel stops it from closing. He's so much stronger than you, he pushes it open with ease, then his arms wrap you in a hug and the force of it walks you backward toward the sink.

You still have the knife open in your hand. As his arms tighten, you whisper, “Careful,” and hold your hand away.

He pulls away, looks you over, and looks at your hand. “Hell are ya doin’,” he mutters.

You turn back toward the mirror and stroke the ‘J’. “Making it better?”

“Makin’ it. . .”

Your eyes water again as you face the mirror fully. Joel turns toward the mirror, too, standing behind you. You run your fingers over your chest with one hand and hold the knife with the other.

Joel's face changes when he realizes what you're doing. He grabs your wrist so hard you reflexively drop the knife and it clatters into the sink. “No.”

He picks it up, closes it, and puts it behind the faucet. He looks at your face in the mirror. “Can't let ya do that.”

“You said people can’t see it.”

“Told ya we’d figure somethin’ else out.”

“Like what?”

Joel runs his hand over your chest, and his thumb lingers on the scratch over the J. His nostrils flare, his head tilts down, and his eyes darken under his brow. “This from her?”

You nod.

Joel sighs and steps over to the bathtub. He starts a shower. He takes his shirt off over his back. You back away toward the door, and start to give him some space.

“Whoa, nuh-uh” Joel stops you. “Did I say leave?”

“Sorry.”

“Take your clothes off.” He sits on the toilet to untie his boots, then slips out of them and takes off his socks.

“Ya know, ya came out there. Got her all worked up,” he grumbles. What? That’s not fair.

“I just wanted you.”

“You were starin’ right at her, sweet pea.”

“I just wanted to be on you, wanted to touch you,” you insist.

“She wanted her grubby hands on you.”

“You think that's what she wanted?”

“And she got it, didn't she?” Joel asks rhetorically, eyes fixed on your chest again. He clenches his jaw at the sight of her touch. He nods toward the shower. “That’s yours.”

“Can I have a bath?” You know it’s a long shot. He’s not in the mood to wait for water to boil.

“Fire's out and we’re outta gas. Gonna be cold either way.”

You brace yourself for the water. Joel remains seated on the closed toilet and holds your hand to help you balance as you step into the tub. You're far enough back that the water only hits from your abdomen down. It's not quite as bad as you expect, but gives you a chill all over. He scans your body as it prickles in goosebumps and your nipples pebble. He reaches behind you for the soap, then lathers a washcloth. He starts with your chest. The scrape stings.

“She wanted you, not me,” you mutter, wincing at the echo of your own words under the light beating of the water. Joel slows down and you continue, “She was looking at you, not me.” He stops the washcloth on your clavicle. Lather pours between your breasts and trickles down your sternum.

Joel squints at you, looks from your mouth to your tits, swallows, and refocuses on the task, adjusting the washcloth in his hand.

“Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that, sweet pea,” he murmurs and begins to slide the cloth slowly across your skin.

It’s nice to hear, but it’s not enough. Your eyes feel weak. “Well, I do worry about it,” you croak and feel the tears coming back.

He adjusts himself, then sighs. “You always cry in the shower?”

The coldness stings.

“Are you mad at me,” you ask shakily.

Joel curses himself under his breath. His brow furrows at your breasts and he braces his wet hand on his knee. “No, baby.” His eyes rise to meet yours, and he cups your cheek. “No. . .Just tired. . .” He searches your face. “Too many bodies in those woods. Gettin’ old.” You sniffle. You start mentally going through the bodies, and your head hurts at the thought. Joel says, “and ya can’t get in my shot like that, sweet pea.” You relax a little more. Your tears wane at the thought that he was already planning to kill her.

Joel stands up, hands you the washcloth, and starts to undo his jeans. You watch his pants come down over his crotch, a sight that always makes your breath hitch. “Face the water,” he mumbles, and you obey, staying far enough back not to get your head wet. He braces his hand on the far wall of the shower and steps in, squeezing between you and the back of the tub. You inch forward to make room. His feet are spread around yours and his hands rest on your hips for a moment. He presses his lips into the crown of your head, then reaches around your front to take the washcloth from you.

Joel presses himself up against your back, then continues to wash your chest. He soaps up your breasts again, then cradles one with his bare hand as he washes your trunk. You look down and watch the suds slide down your body. He washes your hips, your thighs. You’re grateful for the warmth of his groin against you. He turns you to the side and washes your sides, under your arms, your back, your ass, your legs. Then he tells you to rinse off while he washes himself. He steps all the way under the cold water without so much as flinching. When he’s finished, he rinses off, turns off the water, and wraps you in a hug. The water rolls off your skin and the faucet drips as you stand there in his arms.

After a few minutes, Joel’s deep voice slices through the silence. “Carter's stayin’ tonight. Wait here.” This unsettles you because you imagine Joel must be worried about something to have Carter stay. Did he believe her about the Infected?

Joel wraps a towel around himself and leaves you in the bathroom with your own towel. You look in the mirror for a moment, then quickly avert your eyes from your reflection.

Joel returns with clothes for you. He’s in plaid pj pants and a white t-shirt. Both are too small on him. His pockets are puckered. You smile at the sliver of skin between his pants and shirt, and he asks, “What?”

You shrug. “You’re wearing pjs.”

“Yeah? Well I ain't wearin’em long,” he murmurs and you feel a twitch of need. “You're gonna finish what ya started out there.” He looks at you darkly. “Got it?”

You bite your lip and nod as desire throbs between your legs.

“That means I ain't doin’ it, you are.”

Your chest flutters with butterflies.

He rests a flannel on his shoulder, while he holds up your nightie for you. You lift your arms and he puts it over your head. He pulls it down and pats your butt. “Want it that bad. . .” He holds the flannel up for you and you stick your arms in. He brings his mouth to your ear. “Gonna show me how bad.”

The front door opens and shuts.

“All good?” Joel yells.

“All good,” Carter answers, then exaggerates a loud yawn.

“Blankets in the closet,” Joel yells.

Joel brushes his teeth and leaves you to get ready for bed.

Joel returns just as you're finishing up. He shoves his hand in the puckered pocket of the pj pants and pulls out something brown and strappy that looks small in his hands. It looks like a piece of your holster, but thinner, more delicate. His brow furrows at it and he swallows. He sits on the closed toilet seat again.

“What is it?” you ask.

“It's. . .” He looks at your chest. “C'mere.” You step forward. He holds the object against his thigh and with his other hand, he traces the letters on your chest. “It's better than tryin’ to . . .” he trails off. He looks at your face, then back to your chest and caresses it again. “Better than this.” Your heart swells. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He doesn’t want you to hurt you.

He looks at the object in his lap.

“It's for me?”

He nods. He takes a deep breath and fiddles with the belt-like closure. “Can wear a sweater or whatever, and still. . .”

“Lemme try it on.”

He searches your eyes. “Really want to?”

You nod.

He stands up and guides you to the sink. He stands behind you as you both look in the mirror. He wraps it around your throat. Your breath hitches when you see his name in careful, bold lettering, clear but imperfect. It’s an odd sensation, having something around your neck, but the back of it is soft against your skin. It’s smoother and more delicate than the holster is on your thigh.

“It's beautiful,” you tell him as he concentrates on putting it on you.

He's gentle and careful. He fastens it with enough room to breathe and swallow. You look at it in the mirror, and the fact that he made it makes you emotional. “You made it,” you whisper.

He nods. “Don't gotta wear it all the time, but-”

“I love it.”

“Yeah?” he turns you around with his hands on your hips, and his gaze devours your form from head to toe. “Well, God damn. . .Looks good on ya, too.”

You wrap your arms around him and he hugs you close. He leans back to see you wearing the choker. “Let's go to bed.”

—-—--

You take off the flannel and get in bed. You bury your head in your pillow. Joel wraps you in his legs and arms, muscles straining his pajamas as he holds you in the dim room. His big, warm hand strokes your back. His body is like a furnace. You take deep breaths. In his bed, in his arms, you finally feel like you can breathe. His arms feel like home in a way that nearly overwhelms you. These are the arms that took you. They hurt you and pushed you away. Would they still? These arms hold you and care for you. They comfort you and kill for you. You hope they never let go.

It doesn't feel like you were ever really home before him, and it's impossible to imagine an after. There is no after. You're his. In the cruel, awful world, he carved out this space just for you. He kisses your forehead. You pinch your eyes shut and a tear runs down your cheek. It's a tear of relief. You press your cheek into his white t-shirt and his warm package twitches against you. He pushes his hips into you only slightly, and keeps holding you. You focus on his breathing and the beat of his heart.

You wedge your hand between your bodies. Your knuckles slide down your abdomen, and your palm skims his tummy on its way to his pants. You cradle the warm bulge in his flannel. You press your palm into it and he grunts softly as he presses his hips forward. Then he wraps an arm over you. He rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You're on top of him, and your heart flutters as his words from the bathroom echo. That means you’re doin' it.

You come to your knees, and he watches you curiously as you straddle him. You lower yourself so your panties meet his flannel, and the warmth of his bulge sends a shock to your chest. You lightly grind against him and watch his chest rise and fall as his cock swells against your neediest place. His hips lift and his eyes gloss over as he watches you move on him. You must be a vision – swollen, misty eyes, scratched up chest – but the look on his face says you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

That means you're doin’ it.

You scoot back so you’re straddling his thighs. You bring your hand just above his waistband, and your thumb traces his happy trail up under his t-shirt to his belly button, bringing the shirt up with you. You use both hands to push it up and he asks, “Want this off?”

“It's okay,” you shake your head. “Just like to see this. You slide your hand down his stomach, once again running your thumb through the hair leading to his groin. You run your hand slowly up and down it a few times and feel his muscles tense under the light padding of his tummy. The bulge in his pants becomes more of a tent. His tummy flexes as he rises up enough to take the shirt off anyway.

“What else ya like?” He asks. By now, he knows. Oh God, does he know. But he must want to hear it. He must want to see it, feel it. He wets his bottom lip. You back up down his legs and take his flannel pants down. His cock bounces free, and for a moment, you dismount him entirely. Once the pjs are down below his knees, he kicks them off the rest of the way as you take off your underwear. He sucks in air through his nose as he watches you. He's still, and he’s quiet, but the look on his face is more pain than patience.

You straddle his legs, bend at the hips, and rest your elbows on either side of his hips. You take his cock in one hand, then bring your lips to the head. He's still not at full mast. Not for him. For another man, this might be as hard as it gets, but not Joel. You suck the tip into your mouth. A masochistic part of you imagines how many women might have sucked this cock. You have, too, of course. But you want to outdo them all. You suck as much of it into your mouth as you can, and he sucks in a shaky breath as you furrow your brows and close your eyes. You suck from the back of your mouth, and your throat gurgles obscenely as his tip nudges it, then you gag. His hand rests gently on the side of your head. “You’re okay.”

You lock eyes with him as you slowly let his shaft out of your mouth. A string connects your lips to his tip until you wipe your mouth with the back of your wrist. You hold his shaft in a loose fist, thumbing his dorsal vein as you turn your attention to his balls. You cup his balls, then lick a stripe up the seam of his sack, and his hand grips the fitted sheet. When you look up at him, he releases the sheet. Your tongue circles his left nut and he closes his eyes. You have your free hand braced on his upper thigh, near where it meets his torso, and you can practically feel the blood rushing to his cock. His eyes meet yours again, and his brows are furrowed.

“Can I have them in my mouth,” you ask and he nods encouragingly.

You take one into your mouth and circle your tongue around it. You let it rest on your tongue then give it a gentle suck and he breathes, “oh God damn.” It’s fuzzy and soft and feels nice in your mouth.

You pinch your eyes shut and sigh, “Mm,” with your mouth full. You move to the other one, careful and gentle. “Ohh,” he moans a little louder than you expect, and you pause.

You look toward the bedroom door nervously, and take your mouth off. You’re about to remind him about Carter, but he cuts you off, “Shhh,” before you can.

You lick all around his balls again, and his cock throbs angrily in your hand. You suck a ball into your mouth. You want both, but there’s no way you can do it without scraping him with your teeth, so you don’t.

Instead, you return your lips to his tip and feel yourself throbbing as you suck his shaft into your mouth. When you look up, he’s shaking his head no.

“This aint what ya wanted, baby.”

“Is it good?” you ask.

“Yeah. It's good, sweet pea. . .The best.” His thumb brushes your temple. He moves his fingers to tilt your chin up to look at him. “But this ain't what ya want *really* want.”

“Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah? You were bouncin’ on my cock out there, just to make me feel good?”

You twitch and swallow and your chest flutters with desire.

“What’d I tell ya in the bathroom?”

“I'm gonna finish what I started”

“That’s right,” he nods.

His cock is raging hard. You’re throbbing and gushing for it. You give the tip of it one last kiss, then get up on your knees and take your time positioning yourself over it. You press his tip against your most sensitive place for a moment and let out a whimper. The contact makes you ache for him.

—

Joel cradles the backs of your thighs as you hold his cock. You look down as you move forward just a little more, then nestle his cockhead at your dripping hole, the very tip of it prodding just barely inside. You’re more than wet enough. You brace your hands on his tummy, near the bottom of his ribs. Then, you begin to sink down with a whimper, letting his cock spread you open. He growls, “God damn.” You're biting your lip, with his big cock stretching you already.

He nods, “go on, you can do it.” You lift yourself up and bend slightly forward, tilting your hips. He sucks in air through his teeth. He grabs your hips, and you groan as he pulls you down. “Fuck,” he breathes heavily. He loosens his hands on your hips, then moves them to your thighs. You sit still on his cock with your body angled slightly forward, your clit pressing into his pubic hair. You savor the fullness and the way your body makes space for him.

You brace your hands on his chest and begin to move yourself. “Good girl,” he whispers with a gentle thrust of his hips. You whimper as his length nudges deep inside, and his hips lift you.

You lift your ass and let most of his length out, before swallowing it up again and moaning with the delicious stretch. You slowly move yourself, and when you whimper, you feel his nipples harden under your hands. You palm his pecs as you ride his cock. His chest rises with deep breaths as you fuck him. His eyes keep drifting to his name wrapped around your neck.

You try to be quiet, biting your lip, but you still let out little moans, you can't help it. So does he. “Ohhh, baby—ohh.” His sounds are desperate, from deep in his chest.

“Ya do it good,” he whispers. He cradles your ass in his massive hands and begins to move you on him, a little faster than you were going. He watches your breasts move under your nightie. He lifts up the hem of your nightie to watch your cunt swallow his length, and he groans softly. You pause and take it off, then start moving again.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, then his hands return to your ass, gently guiding your rhythm. He clenches his jaw, and you can tell he's trying not to take over entirely.

“C’mere a minute,” he murmurs.

His tummy pudges and wrinkles over his flexing abs, and his fingers dig into your ass cheeks as he sits up. He wraps his arms around you and turns to face the edge of the bed with his legs hanging off. “Hang on,” he murmurs. “Hang on, baby.” He holds your back with one arm, stands up slightly, and pulls at one of your thighs. You adjust your position so you’re seated instead of kneeling and your bent legs wrap loosely around him. Without the leverage of your knees on the bed, it’s up to him.

You have your arms around his neck and your face against his cheek. Your lips pull like a magnet to the skin just below the dark, curly hair on his head. You plant a kiss on his neck and suck lightly. He exhales vocally. He hugs you into him and moves you up and down. He’s doing it all now. You both sigh and moan as his cock fills you up.

Then, he loosens his arms and slides his hands to your shoulder blades. He hooks his thumbs under your arms and breathes, “Lemme see ya for a minute.”

You hesitantly let him pull you away from his body, missing the heat of his chest against yours.

“Ain't gonna drop ya, sweet pea.”

You relax some of your weight into his hands, and he brings you all the way down so you're lying face up with your lower back on his lap. His hands under your arms hold you steady as he thrusts into you, like your body is a warm, wet sleeve for him. You let your head fall back in pleasure. He grunts as he moves you, and you look again to see him snarl. He looks down and watches his cock disappear again and again.

“God damn you feel good,” he whispers. His eyes roam from your eyes to your lips, to your choker, to your tits. He watches where your bodies are joined as he keeps thrusting into you, making you feel like no one ever has. Then his eyes drift up your body again. He slows down. His hands tighten, and he grunts as he brings your body upright again. Your breasts meet his chest. Your arms wrap around his neck again as he hugs you. Your cheek rests against his jaw, and his scuff scratches you pleasantly. “Always so good,” he breathes, moving you on his cock. His breath is warm against your ear. “Ohh baby,“ he sighs.

He tilts his chin to look up at the ceiling, and you latch onto his neck. He braces a hand on the bed and his hips lift under yours as you grind your body into his. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Oh, God, baby. You're–you’re so good for me,” he pants, barely above a whisper. “Ohhh–so good, sweet pea.”

You release his neck with a whimper. He cradles your head with one hand, and his cheek returns to yours.

As you ride him, his head slowly drifts back, so his breath is on your cheek instead of your ear. Your lips are dangerously close, and Joel doesn't pull away. Your mouths get closer while your bodies move as one. Soon, the corners of your lips are touching. You breathe and moan against each other's mouths. Your lips tingle at the closeness, and all you want is his mouth on yours. It feels so close. The sides of your mouths move against each other. It’s enough, just feeling his lips. You want more, but it’s enough, for now. He pulls his head back, and your heart barely has time to sink before he leans his forehead against yours and cradles the back of your head. Your mouths loosely connect, with his lower lip hitching on your upper lip every time you slide down his cock. You breathe each other’s breath. Your noses touch. His bottom lip tenses, and his mouth follows yours, not letting your lips slip away. You moan softly against his mouth, pinching your eyes shut, resisting the urge, resisting it.

Then, Joel presses his open lips against yours. His lips drag lightly, clockwise, then they truly embrace you. As your mouths seal together, you half-moan, half-whine, “Mmm.” His lips are strong and desperate, pulling on yours like a hug. You can feel him taking your air and your spit. He sucks it right out of you, replacing it with an even more desperate need for him. You’re having him, you’re having all of him, but you can never have enough. Arousal floods your body. It gathers deep in your gut and bubbles up to your chest. You take a deep breath through your nose as his tongue slowly thrusts into your mouth and finds yours. His cock is in your tight, wet cunt, and his tongue is in your soft little mouth. You throb and twitch on his cock, and you're nearly overcome. Your whole body simmers. He wraps his arm tighter around you, and your tits smush against him as he kisses you hungrily, and you kiss back. It’s real, it’s really–it’s real. His hand slides down to grip the back of your neck as your mouths move together, drawing each other in, deeper and deeper, like you need it to live.

“Mmmm,” you whine at your imminent peak.

“Mm,” he grunts into your mouth as you twitch again on his cock. His tongue slides against yours, and the tension boils over violently, erupting from your core out to every inch of your body. Your walls clench, and you don't want to let go of his mouth, but your body jerks. Your lips begin to break away with a moan as you spasm on his cock. He holds you there by your neck. Your mouths stay half connected, and you breathe and moan against each other. Time freezes and waves of pleasure ripple through your core. Then, Joel’s thick cock twitches in the embrace of your spasming cunt. “Ugghh,” grunts, then his lips take yours again. “Mmmm.” He erupts, and you're still not finished. He holds you still, holds you tight. His hips lift slowly into you as his cock pulses. Massive bursts of warmth flood your core, and he kisses you slowly but needily as he comes. The kiss becomes sloppy. You both breathe through your noses, but your mouths still disconnect for split seconds, breathing each other’s humid breath.

When Joel finishes emptying his load into you, he gently pulls his lips from yours to take a deeper breath. He leans back and collapses on the bed. You sit there on his cock, still twitching, and your hand drifts to your tingling lips. His hands rest on your thighs. You watch his chest expand with air, and you watch his face. He opens his eyes, then silently motions c’mere with both hands. You fold at your hips and hug him. As you settle in, he strokes the nape of your neck. His chest rises and falls under your cheek. He unfastens the leather choker for you. You were planning to sleep in it, but now that he’s kissed you–and it was more than that, it felt like more–you don't feel quite as desperate for the tangible reminder that he wants you. You have it. Your lips are buzzing. Your whole body is. You can feel it in your bones.

After a few minutes of caressing you, Joel murmurs, “Let's get some sleep.”

You both get under the covers. He lies on his back. You’ve never seen his face so peaceful. You rest your head and half your body on him. You rest your hand on his chest. He strokes your back. Then, he lays his other hand on top of yours.

Soon, you drift off to the sound of him lightly snoring.

----

Raider POV: The Kiss

----

So, I was writing this one when I took the detour to let Carter jack off lmao: He's only human.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. I really appreciate your support and patience and love for these characters. Out of all my characters, it means so much to me when you engage with raider Joel because I pour a lot of myself into this one and have been writing it for >8 months.

Love you all so much! I can't respond to everything without spamming but I appreciate all of your commentary so much and often revisit it when I need inspo.

I hear you about notifs not working, i hear you about tags not working (i'm not getting a lot of my tags either). consider checking my fic notifs blog @toxicfics or the "latest fics" on my profile header once in a while to see what you might have missed.

Raider: @randomhoe @princessloveweird @mugshotqueen @anas-dreamer @eggnox @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @tulipsatmidnight @imaginary98 @neobanguniverse@quietlyignoringyou @gab-thelamb-onthemoon

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #dark!joel miller #raider!joel miller #raider!joel #raider joel #toxicanonymity ☠️#raider!joel ☠️#cw dubcon #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #dark fluff

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tangledupinyellow · 7 months

Text

Older | Joel Miller X F!Reader

authors note: Finally able to get this one out! Had a lot of fun writing this one, got lots of ideas from it as well for future fics. Based on this request from the lovely @winwin70!

summary: Sometimes being with somebody older is all you need.

warnings/tags: 18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak au, age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is mid-late 40s), mentions of cheating, nicknames (sweet pea, darling, sweetheart, baby girl), dads best friend, mild angst, smut, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, joel has a big dick, sweet and fluffy aftercare

word count: 5.4k

Dating was always something that you thought was complicated. Complicated for you, at least. Every relationship that you’ve ever been in never seemed to work out for you, no matter how hard you might try. You would always see your friends go out on cute little dates with their significant other, and you couldn’t help but envy them.

Now, you’ve been in a handful of relationships, but none ever worked out in your favor. There were times when they would be complete assholes, and you’d have to end things with them and wonder why you were ever with someone like that in the first place. And then there were times when you realized you’ve never even had romantic feelings for them in the first place, and it ended up being more of a friendship, if anything else. It was either one or the other with every relationship you were in, and it had gotten to the point where it was nearly infuriating.

You never got the chance to have a high school sweetheart like most of your friends did. Eventually, you just gave up on dating in general. You convinced yourself that the right person would come along if it was meant to be. That you would meet someone who would love you for your entire being.

You thought you had finally found what you were looking for when you went off to college and met Eric in your music theory class. You took a bold risk and sat down next to him, and much to your luck, you hit it off with him rather well. It was a much different connection than to the boyfriends you had back in high school if you could even call them that.

You actually found yourself wanting to spend time with Eric more often than not, whereas with your past relationships, you could care less if they would rather spend time with you or with the rest of their friends. You didn’t have any interest in those relationships. But what you had with Eric was different. You told yourself that you would wait for someone to come along, and you were convinced that Eric was that person for you. He was your person.

It was the longest relationship you’ve had: three years. You’ve been with Eric ever since you were 19. Having it been the longest-lasting relationship you’ve been in, it was inevitably the most brutal breakup. It wasn’t that you thought that you would be with him until you grew old and gray, but you thought that it would at least be an easier breakup, that it would be mutual, and that you two would be able to remain friends. Once you learned that he went behind your back and cheated on you with one of your close friends, you didn’t want to bother to remain acquaintances with him anymore.

You blocked his number immediately and removed him from any and all social media. There was no way left for him to contact you, and you ensured that. You were infuriated with him, but you were angry with yourself as well.

Relationships had never gone your way, and you knew that. You were naive enough to believe this relationship with Eric would be different. But it turns out he didn’t stick out from the rest of your exes. He was just as much of an asshole who would easily and carelessly shatter your heart. You felt stupid for thinking this relationship would be different from all the rest. Turns out that was just wishful thinking on your part.

Ignoring phone call after phone call from your father, you flopped down on your living room couch with a groan. Your eyes were puffy and red, and your cheeks were stained with tears even though your eyes had dried out already. You didn’t want to answer any phone calls, not when you were in this state. You felt pathetic enough crying so much over someone you weren’t ready to talk to anybody. You just wanted to mope in peace in the sanctuary of your own home.

The calls don’t stop, and all you hear buzzing in your ears is your ringtone, which you quickly find annoying after the third call. Picking up your phone from the other side of the couch, you declined the call and shut your ringer off so you wouldn’t have to hear the ringtone repeat itself once again. You could always just text or call your father later when you weren’t such a mess. Now just wasn’t the time you wanted to speak to anybody.

Laying back down on the couch, you rested your head against the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Your eyes started to grow heavy because the amount of crying you had just done had taken most of your energy. You rubbed your eyes and took a deep breath. Shakily inhaling, you could feel yourself choke up once again, a sob threatening to escape your throat.

You held it back and tried to close your eyes, hoping that you might be able to just fall asleep and forget about all of this so you could get a fresh start in the morning..

┉┉┉

You weren’t sure how much time had passed. Maybe an hour, maybe two, you weren’t keeping track as you stared up at the ceiling in sorrow and exhaustion. You barely even flinched when you heard the knocking on your front door.

Assuming that it was your dad coming to check on you after attempting to reach you repeatedly, you stayed silent. You didn’t have the energy to answer. You never thought that a breakup could be this draining.

Slowly, you pulled your attention away from the blank ceiling to your door, anticipating another knock. Another knock never came, but a voice did. Unlike the knocking, it had startled you, but more so out of confusion than anything else.

“Sweet pea?” The familiar voice called out from the other side of the door. A gentle, comforting voice that you knew so well, “Can I come inside?”

Joel.

You slowly sat up on the couch and sniffled quietly, rubbing your eyes while you stayed silent with your eyes glued to the door. Joel had been a close friend of your dad’s for years and, from that, became close to you as well. And while you would much rather have Joel here to try and help you out over your father, you didn’t want him to see how distraught you looked. You would be just mortified to have him see you in this state.

“Hello?” You heard Joel’s voice again.

“Come in, Joel.” You responded almost a little too quickly, your voice cracking slightly from the amount of crying you had done earlier. You sat up and tied your hair up to get it out of your face, trying to make yourself look at least a little bit presentable and less of a mess before he came inside.

The sound of the door opening and closing was followed by his footsteps heading over to the couch. He didn’t want to waste a single before coming to check on you. After receiving your father’s worried phone call, Joel instantly became just as concerned.

“Hey,” He cooed softly and walked over to the couch, sitting beside you rather close. You were still staring down at your lap, not wanting to look at him with your eyes still so red and puffy, “I’m stoppin’ by to come and check up on ya. Your old man gave me a call.” There was a short silence for a moment, him giving you the time to talk if you wanted to. But when you both sat there without a word, he continued, “Now, you don’t outta talk if you don’t want to, but I just wanna make sure that you’re alright.”

You remained silent yet again. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to Joel, but you didn’t want to make yourself look like an idiot in front of him. You were sure you already looked pathetic enough as is. The moment you open your mouth to speak, you know you will just let out that feeble whine followed by even more tears.

“Darlin’?” Joel piped up again, picking your chin up to make you look at him. His heart dropped at the sight of your face that was bathed in your dried-up tears. He hated seeing anybody so upset, especially you. It broke his own heart.

There was no hiding from him now.

“Why do guys have to be such assholes?” There it was, the whine followed by a choked cry. You sucked in a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling to prevent any more tears from falling from your eyes.

“What are you talking about there, sweet pea?” The concern in Joel’s voice never faded as his hand found its spot on your knee, a comforting gesture.

“I thought that Eric was going to be different than all the other guys I dated in high school,” You began explaining with a sniffle, rubbing your eyes to stop the tears before looking over at Joel. You half expected him to be looking at you like he would, trying to calm a child after losing a favorite stuffed animal, something that he didn’t necessarily care about but pretended to anyway. His eyes were filled with genuine concern as he looked at you, wanting to involve himself in whatever was troubling you.

A simple nod of his head encouraged you to go on, “I thought that he really liked me, you know? He told me he loved me and that I’m the only one he ever wanted, and I fucking believed him..” You held back a sob and took another deep breath instead, “I give up, Joel, I give up. I can’t do this kind of shit anymore. Everyone I try to date just becomes a complete and utter asshole.” Your sadness slowly started developing into anger.

“Sweetheart, you’ve gotta remember you’re still young. You’ve only ever dated high school boys before. Hell, I was a lil’ menace myself when I was back in high school,” Joel couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, “And those little college boys ain’t any better.” His voice was soft as he reached out to wipe away the remaining tears on your cheek.

You felt yourself calming down gradually as he wiped away your tears, his rough and calloused hands gently caressing your soft cheek. The touch alone made your heart rate calm.

“No man should be making you feel this way, especially not some immature college boy who doesn’t even know how lucky he is to have someone like you.” Joel reassured you. His hand never left your cheek despite the fact that there were no more tears for him to wipe away.

You processed his words while you stared at him in silence. Maybe love wasn’t the thing that you needed to give up on. What you needed to give up on was dating men who didn’t know what they were doing, men who didn’t know how to treat you right, men your age.

Keeping your eyes on Joel, you slowly leaned into his touch, nuzzling your cheek into his hand. To your surprise, he didn’t pull back at all. Instead, he moved closer and lightly caressed your cheek with his thumb. Your gaze set on his eyes, and you haven’t felt as calm as you did that whole evening as you did in that very moment.

It felt like you were seeing Joel in an entirely new, different light at that moment. All previous thoughts of Eric were long gone. All you saw in front of you was him... Joel...

There were times, multiple times when you would catch yourself staring at Joel or find yourself having a silly little crush on him. But you never bothered to act upon it before, considering he was much older than you. However, after speaking with him, he helped you realize that maybe someone like him was what you really needed. Someone older, more mature, knew how to love you right. And that was something Joel might be able to give you.

You tore your eyes away from his for a split second to look down at his lips, but his eyes never left yours. His hand remained in place, almost as if he didn’t want to let you go before he knew you would be okay. It was only now that you realized that he was showing you more care at this moment than all of your past boyfriends combined.

Slowly looking back into his eyes, your lips parted slightly, and your voice came out in a hushed whisper, “Joel..?”

“Yes, sweet pea?” His calming voice was as smooth as butter.

You hesitated for a quick moment, glancing down at his lips before closing the gap between the two of you. You closed your eyes as you tasted the sweetness of his lips that returned your kiss in no less than a second, much to your surprise. But there wasn’t a part of you that complained.

Your hands slowly roamed to his upper chest, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring you closer to him. The whiskers of his mustache tickled your upper lip in the best way possible. You pulled him in closer to you, wanting to relish the kiss for as long as possible.

Parting slightly to catch your breath, you went in for a second kiss. However, Joel interrupted you by placing a hand on yours and moving away from you slightly. That alone was like a stab to your heart.

Shit.. you knew you shouldn’t have done that...

“Darlin’, we shouldn’t be doin’ this.” Joel whispered gruffly, his lips still close to yours, close enough that you could feel his hot breath brush against your lips. Yet his hand kept its place on your chest to keep the distance between you.

You looked at him and frowned, unable to speak. You were too mortified to say anything, anything reasonable, at least. You were just embarrassed that he clearly didn’t reciprocate whatever feelings you may have for him.

“But Joel..” You managed to speak, hoping that he just may give you what you’re looking for.

Joel slowly looked down at your lips before looking back into your eyes and back down at your lips. There was a war going on inside of his head, a debate with his own self. He knew that kissing you was wrong. You were his best friend’s little girl. He would be dead meat if your old man ever found out. But at the same time, he wanted you just as much. He wanted you to know what it felt like to be loved by a real man, an older man who knew what he was doing, who knew how to treat you. Joel wanted to be that for you, even if it was wrong. And your soft pleas for him were only making it worse.

Looking back into your eyes, Joel moved his hand away from your chest and back to your cheek, “Oh, sweet pea..” he whispered softly. He didn’t waste another second before bringing your lips back to his.

You were shocked for a second, but that didn’t last long before you were kissing him back hungrily.

His hands lowered down to your hips, wrapping them around your waist to pull you closer to him. It wasn’t long before you moved into his lap with your legs wrapped around his waist. His hands rested upon your lower back, his lips never leaving yours.

A groan escaped his lips when your tongue brushed against his bottom lip, asking for entrance. His strong hands rubbed your lower back down to your ass while he kissed you deeply, his lips tugging at your lower lip before kissing you feverishly.

By this point, he completely disregarded any of his previous worries. He wanted to make you feel good and make that his one and only priority. He was determined to show you how good somebody could make you feel.

You, on the other hand, felt like you barely had time to process any of your thoughts while he was kissing you. All you could focus on was his lips’ taste, his mustache’s scruff, and how right he was.

With how skillful he was with his lips, you could only imagine how experienced he was in the bedroom and how good he would be... Just the thought alone made your pussy throb. Already, he was much better than any other boy you’ve been with. With his lips pressed against yours, you couldn’t remember the name ‘Eric’ anymore.

Joel moved his hands underneath your ass, gripping your buttcheeks and pulling you closer to his growing bulge trapped in his denim jeans. An involuntary moan left your lips when he lifted you up and laid you on the couch. He parted his lips from yours and crawled on top of you. His legs were on either side of you, keeping you in place.

“Tell me you want this, sweetheart, and I’ll give it to ya in a heartbeat.” Joel nodded before taking off his tee shirt with one swift movement, tossing it away on the floor.

“Need you, Joel. I need you..” You repeated, expressing to him how much you needed him to show you how good he could make you feel.

The corners of his lips twitched into a smirk while he pulled your skirt down slowly, leaving it down by your ankles, “Goddamn..” He whispered and tutted before shaking his head, “I just don’t understand how those silly little college boys could give this up. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous..” His tongue swiped his lower lip as he stared at you.

He hooked his fingers into your panties and swiftly pulled them down, exposing your bottom half entirely to him. Your cheeks were burning up as you watched him intently. You bit your lips and held onto the edge of the couch, listening to your racing heart in your chest.

“Gonna be a good girl for me?” Joel raised an eyebrow and took two fingers, holding them close to your mouth.

You hummed and gladly took his fingers into your mouth. You closed your eyes and groaned quietly as you sucked his fingers. The lust was strong in his eyes as he slowly pulled his fingers away from your mouth with a ‘pop.’

Joel caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, almost as a silent praise, while his other hand massaged the inside of your thigh. With his two fingers, he inserted them into your already wet pussy, causing an audible gasp to leave your lips.

“Absolutely soaked for me, baby girl..” Joel shook his head as his fingers massaged your folds with practiced ease.

You leaned your head back and let your eyes flutter shut, only focusing on the feeling of his fingers inside of you. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to have him inside you completely. The thought made you throb against his fingers.

He must have noticed this, for he immediately increased the speed of his fingers, now rubbing your clit with his thumb as he did so. Soft moans left your lips while your hands found their way into his messy hair, whimpers of his name coming out of your mouth.

His eyes bore into you as he fingered your wet pussy, getting you nice and ready for him, “Love seein’ ya like this, sweetheart,” Joel praised as he watched you, feeling your walls pulse against his fingers while he kept working up your first orgasm of the night with his strong fingers. Seeing you like this was more than enough for him, knowing that you were getting the satisfaction those little college boys didn’t know how to give you, “Nice and pretty for me..”

You’ve had plenty of men finger you in the past, Eric being included. But not one of those boys made you feel as good as Joel was making you feel. Joel... he knew what the hell he was doing. He was making you his first priority despite the aching erection in his jeans that you could feel on the inside of your thigh while he hovered over you on the couch.

None of them were ever successful in making you finish either, but you had a pretty good feeling that it would be different with Joel, especially when you could feel your release creeping closer and closer.

“Joel..” You whined out his name, biting down on your lower lip.

He nodded, understanding where you were trying to get at with your lack of words, “Come for me, darlin’.” he ordered, his fingers never slowing down in pace to help you reach your orgasm.

He couldn’t finish his sentence before you came all over his fingers, soft moans of his name leaving your mouth. His fingers kept at a steady and rhythmic pace as he eased you through your release.

You leaned your head back into the couch and took a deep breath, a smile sneaking up on the corner of your lips. He hasn’t done much to you yet, and he’s already given you more satisfaction than all of your previous boyfriends combined.

Joel removed his fingers from your cunt while staring at you, taking you in all of your glory as he sucked his fingers clean. He didn’t want to take his eyes off of you. He thought you were absolutely stunning like this, so submissive to him...

Keeping his eyes on you, Joel tore the shirt away from his body and threw it onto the floor to get later. All the while, your hands were messing with his belt, desperately trying to free his cock while your heart was still pounding from your previous orgasm.

Joel chuckled quietly as he watched your eagerness and moved his hands down to assist you in taking off his pants. Effortlessly, he removed himself from his pants and underwear, his hard cock aching to be inside you.

You gulped quietly when you saw him. He definitely was the biggest you had, and you knew that it wouldn’t be as swift and easy as any of your past relationships.

Joel smirked slightly when he noticed you staring before gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “Don’t worry, sweet pea, we can take it as slow as you need me to.” He reassured, the familiar softness in your voice that you have grown so fond of over the years.

You nodded at his words and slowly wrapped your arms around his bare shoulders, bringing him closer to you, “I want all of you, Joel.” You whispered quietly and bit your lip.

A low groan escaped his throat as he listened to your needy words before locking your lips with his, a kiss much more powerful than the first few. You gently dug your fingers into his skin and kissed him back eagerly, wanting to taste as much of him as possible. You could never get sick of kissing him.

“Just let me know if it gets too much, alright, sweetheart?” Joel whispered against your lips. His gentle and caring tone made you want him that much more.

“I will.” You agreed and opened up your legs, wrapping them around his waist to give him a better angle. And while you loved that he was trying to take care of you and ensure that this experience was pleasant for you, you just want him inside you as soon as possible. You hated the feeling of being empty when his throbbing cock was already teasing your entrance.

Joel chuckled as he watched you prepare for him, and he grinned, “Needy for a real man to fuck you, huh?” The grin never left his lips as he positioned himself at your dripping entrance.

“Yes... I need you to fuck me, Joel. I need you to make me feel good.” You begged for him, getting increasingly impatient every second that he wasn’t fucking you.

“Exactly the words I wanted to hear.” Joel grunted before slowly pushing himself into your cunt.

You let out a choked moan as he slowly eased himself into you inch by inch.

“Fuck, such a tight little pussy.” Joal grunted as he finally pushed his entire length into you, his hands gripping down by your waist.

Your pussy stretched out around him, the feeling of finally being full making you feel complete, “Feels so good, Joel..”

“Yeah sweetheart?” Joel grinned as he slowly began thrusting his hips, “Like having a real man fuck you like this, don’t you.” he let out a moan, feeling the way your pussy so perfectly wrapped around his cock.

“Yeah..” You let out a high-pitched moan as his thrusts gradually became faster and faster.

“S’what I like to hear.” Joel growled quietly as he moved one of his hands above your head, holding himself in place while he hovered over you, keeping the steady rhythm of his thrusts.

Your head fell back against the pillows as you cherished the feeling of his cock pounding into your pussy. He was rather big, but you were able to get used to the feeling of him inside of you quickly. Any sort of pain that you may have had was quickly replaced with pleasure.

With one hand balancing himself over your body, he massaged your waist with his other hand, rubbing it in soothing circles. Even while trying to chase his own high, he was still trying to make sure you were comfortable and enjoying yourself. Just how he was trying to make you feel good was almost enough for you to reach a second orgasm. None of your past relationships ever tried nearly this hard.

“Making me feel so good, Joel..” You mewled out, nails digging into his shoulders as he worked his way around your pussy with his cock, “So good..” You repeated in a whimper, the words falling from your mouth.

“M’fuckin’ you so good you can barely speak, huh?” Joel grunted in between thrusts, never slowing down his pace with you. He could see the way that your eyebrows and nose would crinkle in pleasure with each thrust. Just the look on your face encouraged him to keep going.

A moan was your only response as he kept pounding himself into you. Your walls throbbed against his cock, signaling you were close. The thought of you coming for him made him twitch inside of you.

He watched as you leaned your head back, letting out unintelligible moans and whimpers of his name before shutting you up with his mouth, kissing you with passion and hunger. His thrusts grew in intensity, sweat starting to drip from his forehead as he fucked you, giving you open-mouthed kisses at the same time.

Joel knew that he was close and that he wouldn’t last much longer buried deep inside of you like this. However, he managed to keep himself under control. He wanted to make you finish first before he would experience his own high. He wanted you to know what it was like to have someone make you their first priority in the bedroom. And he’d be damned if he were to finish before you. But with each pretty little moan that left your mouth, he could feel himself getting closer and closer. Lasting much longer wasn’t looking all that great for him.

He moved his lips away from your own and began placing wet and sloppy kisses down your jawline to your neck, the taste of your sweet skin brushing on his tongue.

Your thoughts and mind were blurry as he thrust in and out, in and out of you, “So close, Joel..” You muttered out between strangled breaths.

Those words were almost like a sense of relief for Joel, for he didn’t know how long he could keep himself together before becoming undone.

You slowly fluttered your eyes back open to look at Joel hovering over you, his disheveled hair falling into his face as he focused on bringing you to your climax. You felt yourself getting closer, and seeing him fucking you like this was enough to push you over the edge.

“Come for me, sweet pea, show me just how good I can make ya feel.” Joel encouraged. He moved one of his hands down to your clit, rubbing it with the pad of his thumb quickly to match his thrusts.

The feelings of his fingers are what did it for you. You squeezed your eyes shut and moved your hands into his sweaty hair, gripping your fingers in while you came. Breaths and moans of his name left your lips over and over again as if his name was the only thing you knew.

He grinned in satisfaction at the sounds you were making, the sounds that were exclusively for him. And now that he was able to make you come, he allowed himself to chase after his own release.

Joel continued fucking you through your orgasm, his hands grasping onto your hips while slamming himself into you, going faster and faster to relieve himself. It didn’t take him long before he as well finished, spurts of his come releasing into your pussy.

He grunted and moaned lowly, his hands slowly releasing from their grip on his hip, “Fuck..” Joel breathed out, his voice hoarse. He hasn’t fucked somebody like that in years, and he never thought that his next would ever be you.

You chuckled quietly as you stared up at him, your heart rate slowly returning to its normal pace, “Wow..” Was all that you felt like you could say. You genuinely had no words for what had just gone down. You didn’t know what to say.

Joel laughed at your response, or lack thereof, as he pulled himself out of you. You scooted a little further to make room for him on the couch, and he instantly pulled you into his arms, your back resting against his sweaty chest.

“You were absolutely perfect for me, sweetheart.” Joel’s voice softened as you cuddled into him.

“Thank you, Joel.” You whispered tiredly, your eyes drooping closed as you snuggled closer, wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible.

“Thanks?” Joel repeated with furrowed eyebrows, confused about what or why you were thanking him.

You slowly opened your eyes and craned your neck to look over at him, a dopey smile on your lips while you stared into his eyes, “I’ve never had sex that good before,” you couldn’t help but laugh as you admitted this to him, “I really needed this, I really needed you.” You emphasized the last word, hoping he knew where you were getting at. You wanted him to know that you wanted more from him and didn’t want your first time with him to be your last.

Joel smiled as he locked his eyes with yours and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear so he could better look at your face, the face that he so adored.

“M’always gonna be here for you, sweet pea. Those boyfriends you’ve had in the past didn’t know how to treat ya. They didn’t know how lucky they were to have you in the first place. You don’t even know how lucky I am to have you up next to me like this,” He said gently and kissed your forehead with his soft and plump lips, “I want to take good care of you if you’d let me.” The look in his eyes suddenly became vulnerable as he stared at you, his hazel never leaving yours.

Your heart leaped in your chest as you listened to his words intently. After all these years, that was all you ever wanted somebody to say to you. You never thought that it would be Joel Miller, of all people.

“You’re exactly what I want. Joel.” You nodded and intertwined your fingers with his, gently squeezing his hand. He smiled at the small gesture and picked your hand up to his lips, placing a sweet kiss on the back of your hand.

“Now, how about we go and get cleaned up. I can go run a bath for the two of us.” He gave you a flirty wink and chuckled, kissing your head before standing up from the couch to run a nice and warm bubble bath for just the two of you.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #tlou #the last of us #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #18+#female reader #writing #fiction #joel miller smut #tlou smut #the last of us smut #joel miller fluff

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poetsblvd · 8 months

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fic recs ﹐ ( charles leclerc x reader )

— key . fluff (❀) angst (✿) smau (❁) mature (❃) —

leclercs type (❀) @thebearchives

always, evermore, even after and still (❁) @love-belle

it’s never over (❀) (❃) @leclsrc

fix what has been broken (❁) @lorarri

you’ll change your name, or change your mind (✿) @monzabee

heartbreak on tour series (❁) @twobluejeans

right timing (✿) (❀) @moneymasnn

baby leclerc series (❀) @starkwlkr

lightning mclover (❀) @f1version

10 seconds (❀) @lxclerc

itch (❃) @monzamash

this is what it feels like (❁) @love-belle

sweet pea (❀) @leclsrc

delicate series (✿) (❀) (❁) @redclercs

north star series (✿) (❀) @harley-sunday

amour rose (❁) @cartierre

cherry tomato (❀) @xxblairexxss

to live for the hope of it all (❁) @pierregazly

una noche en monaco (✿) (❀) (❃) @charlesswife

sparks (❀) @writingstoraes

a house, a home (✿) @vetteltea

saw your mom at the grocery store (❁) @love-belle

it’s called love (❀) (✿) @racinggirl

honeymoon (❃) @lecsainz

what would you say (if i told you i loved you) (❁) @cieloclercs

what could’ve been (✿) @norrisleclercf1

pardesi girl (❁) @fleetwooods

i’d never walk cornelia street again (❁) @love-belle

night tea and tears (❀) (✿) @httpiastri

the seasons of love series (❀) (✿) (❃) @formulaforza

pretty visitors (❀) @strawberrysainz

still writing pages (✿) @leclercsbunny

royal series (❁) @maryleclerc

lonely call (✿) @lxclerc

for sentimental reasons (❀) (✿) (❃) @deadaydreams

the delicate series (❀) (✿) @fleetwooods

when it rains it pours (✿) @silverszobo

you gotta move, or move on (✿) @formulaforza

thirsty thoughts (❃) (❁) @lorarri

you’re losing me (✿) @oconso

why we broke up (✿) @charlesluvr

shoulder to lean on (✿) (❀) @silverszobo

ma moitié (❀) (✿) @thebearchives

the winner takes it all series (✿) @silverstonesainz

stories old and true (❀) (❃) @cherry-leclerc

i have forgotten (✿) (❃) @cherry-leclerc

lily’s notes , if i studied for half the time i spent on tumblr i’d be a genius. but this is more fun and i slowly find myself tumbling down the tumblr black hole and re-experiencing my old fav fics that i’ve stumbled across again , and omg wow im having so much fun making fic recs so expect a lot more !! so this is the charles rec list aka the current f1 poster boy , max rec list next !! thank you to all the amazing writers for pushing their hard work onto these masterpieces mwah xx

#౨ৎ my recs #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic recs #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x y/n

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tobiotetsu · 10 months

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the beast’s beauty

fushiguro toji x f!reader

description: because of your father's mistake, the infamous toji zenin forced you into imprisonment in order to pay his debt. however, what you never expected was to fall in love with the monster he was.

genre: angst, historical au, 18+, mini series

warnings/tags: explicit smut(vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, ) violence, mentions of stockholm syndrome & misogyny, blackmail, character injury, blood, profanity, mdni, grammar mistakes

a/n: to welcome our fav dilf to the jjk screen, here's a little beauty and the best retelling for toji:) reblogs are truly appreciated <3 (taglist: open) (wc:1k)

general masterlist

part one ♕ part two ♕ part three ♕ part four ♕ part five

You never enjoyed the company your father kept. Drunks, assassins, mobsters, gamblers. You would always find yourself pulling him out of taverns in the early hours of 2 to 4 am. Usually, fear would course through women’s veins if they had to enter an establishment of this kind however, that wasn't your case. You were predisposed to bars, and whore houses since you were 10.

Now here, age 22 as you make your way through the liveliest bar in town. The air stank of beer and fresh cigarettes; a smell that you've grown more than used to. Your upbringing was merited to being the only daughter of a single father. Your mother died in childbirth and your father never chose to remarry. When you were younger you thought of it as romantic, but as time went on you saw it for what it really was.

He gained a free pass to hoard whores. Your house doors welcomed a new woman every week. The most motherly advice you gained was how to seduce a man and how to keep your tits perky.

The bar was more full than it usually was. Sweaty bodies stood, all facing the same direction. A poker game was at play. By the looks of the chips stacked in the center, it looked rather intense. Your feet began to move faster as a small anxious feeling nipped at your stomach. Shoving arms and legs, you squeeze into the front of the table.

Two men were sitting at opposite ends of the table. The left side of the table was far more crowded than the right. Women were draped over the man who was seated. A hand covered the majority of his face so all that was in view were his eyes. Dark green eyes shined brightly, even though the mess of dark hair was in front of it.

‘He looked focused’ you thought. He stared ahead, not giving any attention to the women around him. You could see why they were all interested in him. Physically, he was very attractive. His legs were spread out under the table, arms crossed and sat straight. His shirt fit on his body like a glove. His shoulders, chest, and even the muscles on his torso were visible through the cloth.

Before you could notice anything a familiar voice caught your attention. At the other end of the table, you see a familiar ratted navy coat. With a far lonelier crowd, your father was squinting at the four cards in his palm.

“All in” he shouted as he pushed all his chips closer to the dark-haired man.

“Dad!” you jumped to him, clasping your hand on his wrist. As you opened your mouth to protest, a deep voice intercepted.

“Sorry, cap.” was all the man said as he displayed his cards. The faces and noise around you felt dull. Muffled voices and blurry vision were all you had as you watched your father’s cards get trumped by a royal flush.

“How much money did you bet, Dad?” The urgency in your voice was a cover for the panic. He had no money. Whatever money he did earn at his sales job was put towards the tavern and prostitutes. Whatever was left was the sum you had earned at the library.

“Sweet pea, I-I messed up,” there was a shake in your father's voice. One that you had never heard before. “It wasn’t money. Gu- I need to get”

You couldn't understand the slurred speech your father spewed.

“Gu? What are you saying, Dad?” you held your father steady near the back entrance of the building.

“Guns” your body jumped at the sound of another voice joining your conversation. You spun around to be faced with familiar eyes. They look much darker at night. The only thing illuminating the scene was a candle hanging beside the door in between you two.

“He didn’t bet money. Your father owes me guns.”

Your eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

He must be confused with someone else.

In an effort to clear your father's name you turn to him for reassurance, but all you are met with is disappointment.

“Mmm sorry. I sold the guns and I didn’t have anything else to give” Your father's voice fell flat.

“Dad, What are you talking about? Why do you have guns? What are you in?” your hands grasp his arms and shake his drunk body hoping to shake the truth out of him.”

“Your father works for my business. And he fucked up and sold my guns for bitch money.” the man said. His head tilted to the right, allowing for his face to be seen. The first thing you saw was a scar that ran through the right corner of his mouth. He was taller than you assumed he was. As he inched towards you his size grew.

“What do you want?” your voice dripped in fear.

“Well, your father here, he bet me something to act as a placeholder, till I get my guns.” he fished in his pockets as he spoke those chilling words. He retrieved a small syringe from his pocket.

Your worried eyes turned to your father but before you could protest, rough hands brushed your lips, pressing your mouth shut. You felt your skin break as a cool needle was stuck in your neck. Tears welled up in your eyes as your fear was confirmed.

You felt your own body turning into mush, your muscles stopped protesting the man's actions and started to skin into him. Your back hit his chest and your head rolled onto his shoulder. With what little power you had you flailed your limbs, but all of your efforts were met with failure.

You couldn't hear anymore, couldn't distinguish voices. Couldn't yell and scream at your father for pimping you like a whore to a beast. You didn't know whose voice it was but you were hoping their word was true, as those were the last words that you heard before you blacked out.

“I'll take care of you, I promise.”

[ jjk gen taglist: @meepmoop12w @thepsychicartist ]

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sakusamusimp · 2 years

Text

Serpents and Dragons: Chapter 1

Sweet Pea x Reader

Summary: After her father’s psychotic break, Y/N and her family moved to Seoul from Riverdale. After joining a mafia group, she and her family wind up back in Riverdale. Nothing could prepare her for the wonderful things she would experience there, nor the horrific events that would change her life forever.

Content Warnings: Eventual smut, graphic depictions of violence and/or injury, gang/ mafia activity, cursing, occultism, toxic family, bullying, harassment, inaccurate depictions of mafia lifestyle and medical information. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANYTHING YOU READ! Reminder: I am not responsible for your triggers and cannot cater to everyone who reads my works.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: I am so sorry about the delay in the schedule. I had senior portraits and completely forgot about them until the day before. Anyway, better late than never. Here is the first real chapter of Serpents and Dragons, I hope you enjoy it. (Also, slight spoiler, this generally follows the Riverdale plotline so I guess it should be considered a slow burn since they won’t meet until the plot for season 2 starts.)

The first few days in Riverdale were spent in seclusion. One of the few mansions in the town that had been previously deserted, now had 7 inhabitants. Within a week, the Riverdale branch of NCT was already flourishing again. Y/N had preoccupied herself with unpacking all of her things before deciding that she would visit Pop’s for the first time in a while.

“Lana! I’m heading out to Pop’s, do you want anything?” She shouted from the doorway.

“Oo! Get me Pop’s special curly fries, extra salt.” Her older sister responded, the excitement obvious in her voice. Y/N smiled before grabbing her jacket and heading towards her Yamaha sport bike. It had been a gift from Johnny on her 14th birthday, much to the dismay of her mother and sister, who would have preferred her to start with a cruiser. The black bike was her pride and joy, having put thousands of dollars and too much effort into it for it not to be. The 20 minute ride seemed to have flown by, but that could have been due to the fact that Y/N never follows speed limits. Parking her bike, Y/N dismounts, placing her helmet and jacket in the side compartments. ‘I don’t need everyone and their mother knowing that another gang has shown up in Riverdale just yet.’ She thought to herself before opening the door to Pop Tate’s Chock-Lit Shoppe.

“Hey, Pop.” She said calmly to the aged man at the counter.

“Well, I’ll be. Miss Y/N Kim has come back to town.” Pop said. The familiar old man in the comforting atmosphere of his diner made Y/N just a tiny bit emotional. “Let me guess. Chicken fingers with sweet potato fries and a strawberry shake with extra malt and 2 cherries on top.” The old man said, the fatherly smile on his face bringing a sense of contentment to Y/N.

“I see even 3 years of absence can’t shake your memory, Pop.” She smiled, adding that it will be a dine in order before dropping a 20 on the counter and a 10 in the tip jar. She looked around the old diner, memories from her childhood flooding back into her mind. Getting cherry freezes with her mom after receiving report cards, ice cream with her sister on hot summer Saturdays, and even sharing milkshakes with her father before going home for dinner. However, the memories that hit the hardest are those she shared with Archie, Betty, and Jughead. Sitting in a booth, at least one parent sitting at a table nearby, conversing about whatever 8 year olds talk about and planning out their sleepovers and hangouts for the next school year.

“Never thought, I’d see the day that an old friend comes back to this place.” A voice snapped Y/N out of her daydream. Searching for the voice, her eyes landed on the familiar crown shaped beanie. “Why exactly did you come back, Y/N/N?” Her eyes lit up as she walked over towards the boy sitting alone in a booth with just his laptop and a coffee.

“Juggie!” She squealed, enveloping said boy in a tight hug. “I missed you so much.” She said, keeping her grip on the boy until he separated.

“I see that not even the big city of Seoul can do anything to change you, Y/N.” Not long after, Pop dropped off Y/N’s food to the now shared booth and the next 2 hours were spent with the pair catching up with each other. Y/N obviously kept some things secret for the time being, but told Jughead all about the school she went to, the social scene in Seoul, and even about her sister’s marriage and mother’s death.

“I’m sorry about your mom, Y/N/N. She was a wonderful person and I know you miss her.” Y/N’s solemn expression worried Jughead, but he never would have expected her response.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Juggie. She may be gone, my dad too, but I have a new family now. Lana and her husband, plus all of the family that come along with him.” She said, her expression was now just as it had been the last couple of years, stone cold. She was unintentionally building a wall between her and Jughead, protecting herself so she doesn’t seem vulnerable. “I should head home, but we should keep in touch. Here’s my number, so text me sometime.” With a slip of paper and those final words, Y/N stalked up to the counter, grabbing the bag of food she had ordered for her sister 10 minutes prior and dropping Pop some more money before walking out the door.

She wasn’t aware of Jughead watching all of her moves as she left, switching the food out for her jacket and helmet before riding off back home. She didn’t realize that Jughead had seen the dragon emblem on the back of her jacket.

The rest of the summer went along normally. After her brief meeting with Jughead in the diner, they began to meet up more often, rekindling their old friendship. Eventually that bled into her friendship with Betty and Archie as well, however she did have to put in more effort to start talking to Archie again given how busy he had been. The summer was filled with hangouts at Pop’s, swimming trips to the quarry, and backyard cookouts at the Andrews’ house. It was July 4th weekend and almost everyone in Riverdale was preparing for the special day. Some were planning road trips, others were spending precious time with their family. For the members of NCT, those living in Shadowfield Manor specifically, they were camping near Sweetwater river.

“Y/N, I swear. If you lose that compass, I will smite you.” Renjun threatened, slightly out of breath from the hike to their campsite. “Renjun, I am one of the most, if not the most, responsible of our group. Besides, I know my way around here so even if I did lose it, we would still be able to find our way back.” She grunted, holding onto a tree to steady herself up a ledge.

“Jeno, stop putting rocks in my bag to weigh it down. Not all of us work out 29 hours a day, 10 days a week.” Jaemin complains, throwing yet another rock out of his backpack. Jeno just shrugged, secretly picking up another rock and replacing the one that was just thrown out.

“If you told anyone that those two specialize in assassination and body disposal, not a single person would believe it.” Lana whispered to Jaehyun, who simply shook his head at the duo's antics. ‘I don’t think they would believe it if you said any of those five are gang members, actually.’ Lana thought to herself, keeping track of any landmarks they passed, just in case they did end up getting lost.

A sharp squeal was heard behind the group, gathering the attention of everyone in the group, who whipped around to see if there was a threat. “I swear I feel a snake against my foot!” Chenle, the youngest of the group, screeched, his high pitched exclamation probably being heard all the way in Fox Forest.

“Chenle… that’s grass.” Y/N sighed, staring at the blades of soft grass that are still against his foot. “I don’t know how you do deliveries when you’re this jumpy.” She grumbles before spotting their campsite. “There’s our site. Do try to not kill yourselves within the next 10 yards.” Lana chuckled at her sister’s comment before dropping her stuff on one of the tree stumps within the campsite.

“Our resident arsonist, Renjun, would you mind starting the fire?” Lana asked, not even waiting for his nod of approval before giving everyone else assignments. “It’s already 7:30, so if we want to do anything before sundown, we should start now. Chenle, help with the fire. Y/N and Jeno, pitch the tents. Jaemin, Jaehyun, and I will start with dinner.” She ordered, tossing the three tent bags to the pair and giving Chenle the fire starters.

“Jeno, I don’t think this is how you pitch a tent.” Y/N deadpanned, looking at the wobbly structure that Jeno had put together in less than five minutes. “It literally looks like it’s about to collapse if someone breathes on it.” As if mother nature wanted to prove her point, a small gust of wind blew, knocking the tent down completely.

“This is stupid. Why do we even need a tent anyway? We should just rough it out and sleep on the ground.” Jeno grumbled, sulking on a nearby stump while Y/N finished setting up the tent she had been given. Seeing her perfectly pitched tent was yet another blow to Jeno’s ego. Especially considering that the fire had been started and dinner was in the works, so the only thing left to do was get the tents set.

“Alright, quit sulking. We have two more tents to pitch since yours caved in. Let’s get to work.” Y/N said, grabbing Jeno’s wrists and pulling his limp frame from his seat. Within the next 20 minutes both of the other tents were pitched and the pair joined the others by the fire. It wasn’t a big fire, considering they had to cook over it, but the warmth it gave on a cool summer night was almost addicting. “Never thought that Mr. Lee Jeno himself, who claims to be super handy, wouldn’t know how to pitch a simple tent.” Y/N joked, bruising the prideful boy’s ego just a little more.

“It was extremely entertaining though. Watching him be completely lost with what to do with the spokes was probably the height of entertainment these days.” Jaemin joked, nudging his best friend’s shoulder.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Jeno grumbled, grabbing a piece of bell pepper from the ingredients pile Lana had made for dinner. Noticing the missing pepper and spotting Jeno’s hand going in for another, she quickly smacked it away, scolding the boy.

“Fragile tent aside. Let’s go swimming in the river tomorrow. There’s a nice pond not far from where the river forks, so we should go swimming there.” Lana said, turning the potatoes sitting in the fire. “Jae and I used to go there every summer when we were younger. It’s pretty secluded so it was the only place we got any… privacy.” Lana continued, dragging out the last few words just to mess with the teenagers in front of her, all of whom groaned at the words leaving her.

“Ew. We don’t need to know about your sexual endeavors so please, keep the details to a minimum. Better yet, let’s not talk about it ever again.” Y/N said, a look of disgust washing over her face, matching that of the boys beside her. Lana and Jaehyun just quietly laughed to themselves, hands intertwined as Lana stirred the soup cooking over the fire. In all actuality, they hadn’t done anything sexual in the spot and it was really just used so they could spend quality time together without the peering eyes of their parents over their shoulders.

“Well, dinner is almost ready. Why don’t we decide on sleeping arrangements?” Jaehyun said, stirring the pot that was dangling over the bright orange flames. “Obviously Lana and I will be in one tent. So with the other two we can either split you into a group of two and a group of three. The other option is we have Y/N share a tent with us.” Now Y/N has nothing against her sister and brother-in-law, but she would rather not have to share a tent with them.

“We’ll do two and three!” Y/N said, very quickly, shuddering at the idea that her sister and Jaehyun may try and get naughty while she’s sleeping. “We’ll figure it out when we go to sleep, but I am not going to share a tent with you two.” She finished and began unpacking the bowls and utensils they had packed for this trip.

“What a coward-” Jeno started, abruptly stopping when Renjun’s hand collided with his skull. “The hell was that for?!” He exclaimed, rubbing the spot on his head. Renjun shot him a warning look, motioning towards Y/N, who held a small plastic knife in her hand. Under normal circumstances, someone with a plastic knife wouldn’t be threatening, but with Y/N and her exceptional knife skills, it spelled certain death for Jeno.

“Jeno… you have about 15 seconds to run before I shiv you with this butter knife.” Y/N warned. Nobody was planning on interfering with her Jeno-oriented homicide, especially not Jaemin, who had been on the receiving end of her butter knife attacks before.

Jaemin patted his best friend’s shoulder, whispering in his ear, “If I were you, I’d take her warning and actually run. She knows which arteries to aim for.” Jeno seemed to weigh his options for a second, standing still with a shocked look on his face before bolting in the direction of the river. Y/N was hot on his tail and all anyone else could do was watch.

After a grueling 15 minutes, Lana finally put an end to the murder chase and called the two back to eat. “I swear, you two will be the death of me. I’m certain I already have gray hairs from the stress you put me under.” She said, rubbing her temples in disdain.

“Lana, I think that those gray hairs are from you getting old.” Renjun snarked, earning him a well-deserved smack on the head from Lana and Jaehyun. Renjun glared at the two, rubbing the sore spot on his head before turning his back to them and sipping on his soup.

Once everyone had finished eating and cleaned up the remnants of dinner, Lana and Jaehyun stalked to their tent while the five teenagers behind them argued about where to sleep. “No way in hell am I sharing a tent with Chenle. He snores like a bear and I know for a fact that he’ll try to steal my sleeping bag at some point.” Jeno complained, gripping his sleeping bag tighter whenever Chenle jokingly grabbed at it.

“I swear you two are the biggest babies in grown men’s bodies. Jaemin, Jeno and I will share a tent and Y/N can have Chenle-” Renjun was quickly cut off with a smack to the back of his head. “Damn! If you all keep this up, I’m gonna have permanent brain damage.” He complained, rubbing the once again sore spot on his head.

“If you think for one second that I am going to share a tent with Chenle alone, you have another thing coming. If I have to suffer, I’m gonna make sure at least one of you suffers with me.” Poor Chenle just sat there as his friends took digs at him, but silently snuck away to go to bed. “Renjun, since you wanna be the ringleader of our tent distribution, why don’t you sleep with Chenle and Jaemin, Jeno and I will share the other tent.” Y/N snarked, grabbing her sleeping bag and the arms of the other two boys and quickly diving into the empty tent.

“Next time, we’re bringing four tents.” Jaemin grumbled, pulling out the air mattress he had snuck with him. “It would really suck to be Renjun and Chenle right now because I know for a fact that I’m the only one who brought an air mattress.” As soon as Jaemin said that, Y/N’s phone pinged with a message from her sister.

“Well, Jaemin, I hate to burst your bubble but Lana and Jaehyun also have an air mattress. Wait a second, those motherfuckers!”

“Language!”

“I think they have a portable aircon!” Y/N exclaimed, quickly unzipping the tent and sprinting over to her sister. She ripped open their tent door, “What the hell?! How is that fair? The rest of us have to sit out here in the summer heat and you’re chilling in here all comfortable with an AIRCON?!?!” After about ten minutes of bantering, Y/N finally returned to her tent and laid down on the full dressed air mattress.

“Never thought I would see you lose your cool over an air conditioning unit.” Jeno said smugly, getting under the covers on one side of the bed. Jaemin crawled into the other side, leaving very little room for their other tent inhabitant.

“Scooch.” Y/N said before weaseling her way between the two boys and snuggling up to the fluffy pillow Jaemin had packed. Seconds later she felt a harsh poke in her ribcage, turning her head to be met with Jaemin’s disapproving glare.

“That was my pillow.” He grumbled before moving half the pillow closer to him and laying his head down. “You’re so lucky that you’re my best friend or else I would have ripped your nails off their beds.” He half-heartedly threatened, bringing the blanket up to his neck.

“I swear to God, if you two don’t shut the hell up, I’m gonna come over there and smother you with that damn pillow.” Renjun’s groggy voice was heard from the tent next to them, however, it was mostly drowned out by Chenle’s obnoxiously loud snores. “I may just smother myself with it at this point.” He almost whispered, disregarding his own comfort and flipping the pillow on top of his ears.

The sun had barely risen, the digital clock on Lana’s cell phone reading 5:30, which was far too early for any of the teenagers to have willingly woken up. Lana and Jaehyun themselves had only been awake for around fifteen minutes, which was just enough time to restart the fire and start making breakfast. “Never again will I agree to take five teenagers and a man baby on a camping trip.” The young woman grumbled, sipping coffee with one hand and stirring eggs with the other.

“What do you mean ‘man baby’? I am very mature.” Jaehyun snarked but the slurping of his coffee just proved his wife’s words to be true. Luckily, the death glare he received from her was enough to put a stop to the coffee slurping. Instead he busied himself with waking up all of the soon-to-be grumpy teenagers. “Rise and shine brats. Get up, we’re gonna have breakfast.” He said loudly, ripping open the tent and letting the harsh rays of the sun cascade over the kids’ faces.

Loud groans were heard, specifically from Jeno, who everyone knew wasn’t a morning person. The next complaints were from Y/N, who was the only one brave enough to actually voice her taunts at Jaehyun. “I think I understand why the only person who took interest in you was Lana. I can guarantee that it isn’t even six, so why the hell do you want us up so early?” She complained, her sleepy glare matching that of her sister.

“Well, either you get up now or I come back with a mug of river water and soak all of your pajamas.” He smiled before heading off to the other tent. Fortunately, his threat seemed to work as the three filed out of their tent and towards the logs surrounding the campfire that Lana had been sitting at for the last ten minutes.

Jaemin made a beeline for the coffee pot, so eager that you’d think he was just going to drink from the pot itself. “Jaem, you may need to chill with the caffeine. I don’t think your heart can handle your usual ten cups a day for the rest of your life.” Y/N said, pulling a bottled orange juice from the cooler that had been set in the river to preserve the temperature.

“My heart is gonna be just fine.” He said as Jaehyun practically dragged Renjun and Chenle to the fire. “I’d rather be bouncing off the walls than be as much of a drag as Renjun.” He said, smugly sipping his coffee afterward, definitely not expecting the harsh slap to the back of his head. “Ow.” He deadpanned, staring at the new coffee stain on his shirt.

The next twenty minutes were spent in casual conversation and a general sense of comfort. Everything seemed normal until the sound of a gunshot resonated throughout the area. The initial sound startled Chenle enough that he dropped the mug he had been holding. “Is there someone looking for us?” He asked worriedly, looking back and forth between Lana and Jaehyun.

Unlike Lana, Jaehyun and Y/N, the other boys were unsettled by the sound. “I forgot that you’re not used to things around here. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it was just a hunter getting its catch.” Y/N shrugged, brushing aside the boys’ panic. While her words themself did little to calm the boys down, the reassuring nods from the elders of the group did the trick. Throughout the rest of the camping trip, the group went on to believe that the gunshot they heard was just a hunter. And they would continue to believe such, until they went back to town and found out that Jason Blossom had disappeared from Sweetwater River that same day.

#sweet pea x reader #sweet pea smut #sweet pea fluff #sweet pea #NCT #mafia nct #nct mafia au #nct dream mafia au #jaehyun x oc #riverdale #fanfic #kpop #fanfiction #original character #sweet pea angst

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spamgyu · 4 months

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BACKBURNER // LAST PART (Version 2)

DESCRIPTION: She had grown tired of being on his back burner, the person that he had kept warm until he gotten the girl he has had his eyes set on for years... And with a little help from her friend, maybe... just maybe she'll finally be the first choice. PAIRING: Seungcheol x Reader | Mingyu x Reader GENRE: Angst & Fluff PART 4 | LAST PART - VERSION 1 | SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

She had quit months ago.

He actually was the one that had urged her to do so, making it a point to shame her each time he had caught even a hint of the stale scent lingering on her clothes or skin.

It was a nasty habit she had picked up during her last year of college – craving the thin white cylinder after a night out of drinking. He left her alone at first, at times taking a drag from the cigarette in between her fingers to prolong the buzz of the alcohol coursing through his body.

Unlike her, he was able to quit quite easily – cold turkey.

He had just woken up one day and decided the toxicity was too much for him and he just .... stopped.

Y/n was doing so well, opting to chew gum when she began craving her method of stress reliever; but tonight was her one moment of weakness.

After Seungcheol had left her and Mingyu's room, she attempted to distract her thoughts of doubt and panic by scrolling on her phone and when it wasn't enough, she tried sleeping.

She tossed and turned in her bed for the fifth time when she decided it was no use, kicking off her duvet and bounding to the ABC store across their hotel to purchase a pack of reds.

Mingyu had yet to return from the gym; and truth be told, she was glad.

She didn't want to face him – not while she couldn't even look at herself in the mirror.

Y/n had grown frustrated by her thoughts that seemed to attack her instead of properly creating coherent ideas – coming to a conclusion that she had been the root of all her problems.

If she had just listened to Mingyu and Minghao's warnings when Seungcheol had first swiped up on one of her stories, sending her heart eyes instead of properly complimenting her, she wouldn't be in this situation in the first place.

And if she had just listened to the one logical voice in her head when Mingyu had suggested to fake date, she would have been able to actually get over Seungcheol – as opposed to landing her in a situation in which she and her best friend kissed.

Possibly ruining their friendship.

Though, he seemed to pay no mind to it.

And maybe that's why it bothered her so much.

He was so nonchalant.

"That's a nasty habit you got there." Minghao's voice brought her back down to earth as he joined her in the darkness of the designated smoking area of the hotel – an unlit cigarette in between his lips.

Exhaling a cloud of smoke through her nose, she let out a small laugh – handing him the white lighter she had been toying with in her hand.

He was the only one Mingyu hadn't been able to persuade into quitting. Though, he did cut down significantly; smoking only a few days out of the week.

"Don't tell him." She took a long drag.

It was sarcasm.

Mingyu would be able to tell the second he stepped into the room; he had a nose of a blood hound and knew her signature scent in a crowded room. Her smell of sweet pea and vanilla will be over powered by the grey haze.

She'll worry about his reaction later.

"Why are you out here? Something happened?" He knew her well enough that she wouldn't be smoking for no reason.

The last time he had last seen her with a cigarette in between her lips was after her first day of working in the NICU – venting to him and Mingyu that pushing on to keep her parents happy with following their wishes of her being a nurse was a mistake.

She had nearly smoked a quarter of his pack that day, Mingyu having to pry the carton from her hands; convincing her to accompany them to get dinner instead.

The two spent the rest of the night telling outlandish tales of their most recent Tinder dates to distract the girl, keeping her mind off of her desire to put in her two weeks and wallow in self pity.

"Plenty." Y/n licked her lips, not knowing where to begin.

The two were never shy of sharing their deepest thoughts with one another. They had spent many nights dissecting their minds in her best friend's apartment. She always did cherish how brutally honest he was, not caring to sugarcoat any of his opinions and advices – and she did the same.

"Seungcheol told me he chose me." The nicotine that once gave her a dull buzz felt like a full vibration the second she uttered his name, almost as if it was a forbidden word.

Minghao simply nodded, his bottom lip jutting out.

She kept her eyes trained on the stick that had burned halfway, nestled between her pointer and middle finger.

"But Mingyu and I kissed." Y/n said in almost a whisper; recalling to the warmth of his delicate touch on her cheek and how perfectly their lips fit together. "Made out, actually."

He remained unfazed, nodding once again. "You're confused."

He read her like an open book. He was always good at reading people; some sort of witchcraft probably.

"The reason why I agreed to this shit in the first place was because of Seungcheol. I wanted to be his– but when he told me– when he said he chose me." She put the cigarette back up to her lips. "All I could think about was Mingyu."

She thought she would have been happy to hear him say those words.

"It's you. I chose you."

The person who she was a few months ago would have leapt in Seungcheol's arms without a second thought; happy that she was finally his.

But the change happened so slowly that not even she felt it. The air had shifted without even noticing it; she had slipped from him... and straight into Mingyu's arms.

Y/n had allowed Seungcheol to spill his guts right in front of her, frozen in her spot – unable to muster a single word except an "okay". He had ambushed her the same way she had done during that god forsaken night at his apartment.

She knew he expected more, leaving her room with his shoulders low. Y/n had also expected more from herself; but she wasn't able to complete a single sentence.

The only thing running in her mind was the kiss she had shared with her best friend hours ago. The one that had provided her a new sense of calm, almost as if her world had stopped the second his lips touched hers.

"Are you saying you have feelings for him?"

Mingyu.

"I don't know."

"What do you know?" He pried.

Minghao was always good at asking questions to allow her to properly sort through the mess in her head – simplifying her thoughts.

"I know that this has been the happiest I've been in a while." Y/n began.

Maybe it was the island, hypnotizing them with the warm sun and the surge of dopamine that their false reality that it had provided them during their trip. Or maybe it was the fact that Seungcheol hadn't rattled her brain in a while, Mingyu giving her the distraction she needed.

"I know that I agreed to pretend to date Mingyu for Seungcheol." She went on. "But I also know that it no longer feels like it's for Seungcheol."

In the beginning, their actions were calculated – each one of their instagram posts and fake dates were all for a targeted audience. The two didn't dare cross any lines, keeping a close eye on the end game they both wished to achieve.

The past few days, it seemed as though the line had become quite blurry; especially for her. At first, she thought it was simply because she was finally getting used to the forced close proximity she and Mingyu put themselves in.

She didn't dare bat an eye to all the small moments where he seemed to dote on her, meeting all the needs she didn't think needed to be met. Because it was all things he had done before.

Except now, she was starting to look a little too hard into all his actions.

And it was all because of that fucking kiss.

All those times he answered all her silent questions, making sure there was always a smile on her face, the small gestures, his attention to the minor details of her daily life... They now had her double guessing. All because the man she could have sworn she wanted all this time, had never once dared to do any of it all.

If Mingyu had attempted to kiss her before, at the beginning of their arrangement, she would have pushed him off. She would have given him an earful for even trying to lean in.

A second into his lips locking with hers, she found herself melting into his touch – almost as if her body had been waiting for that moment.

She could have sworn he wanted it as well, being the one to initiate it. He was the one that deepened the kiss, gently pulling her face closer to his – as if she could get any closer than she already was.

Y/n couldn't help but feel a bit conflicted when Mingyu had chosen to dismiss it as if it was just another normal occurence between them; her insecurities slightly feeding into the thought of her just being as one of the girls on his roster.

The feelings she once had for him during their high school days slowly began to bubble back up, remembering all the times she caught herself staring at him in class – wishing he could open his eyes and fall for the girl he called his best friend.

It was a small crush.

And who knows, maybe this could just be her younger self finally fulfilling her life long dream of being with the boy that had helped her with her algebra homework – consoling her as she cried at his dinner table when she couldn't understand why the alphabet was needed to be added into a math problem.

She was .... very confused.

This was all supposed to be about Seungcheol, and now she was wishing he had never come into their room in attempts to make peace.

"Why don't you sleep on it?" Minghao suggested.

"I tried. That's why I'm out here smoking this damn thing." Y/n scoffed at her actions.

She always did hate how easily she reverted back to her unhealthy habits, especially when she had finally made progress.

Minghao opened his mouth before shutting it back again, hesitating if he should even tell her the conversation he had overheard earlier in the day. He had always gossiped with her in Mingyu.

But this wasn't something simple as finding out that his coworker was cheating on his wife with someone else in their department, or the fact the Hansol took Mingyu's little sister out on a date last month.

No, this could drastically change the group's dynamic. It was all so messy.

More importantly, he was always a firm believer of allowing his friends the freedom of making their choice – not wanting to meddle in the possibility of ruining their chances of them learning their lessons.

He was sadistic like that.

Warning Mingyu about how messy fake dating didn't count – he was an idiot and he wanted to save himself from hearing more about how in love he was with y/n all while she was too blind to see it all.

"If I tell you something about Sunhee and Cheol, will it make the organization of your thoughts easier?"

The thing was, Minghao was holding on to a key information that he was itching to spill out. And he was, eventually.... He just didn't think Seungcheol was stupid enough to approach y/n the same day.

He under estimated how his friend's brain operated.

He wasn't supposed to overhear the conversation between the two, but it wasn't his fault they had chosen to have an argument in public – all while he on the other side of the bushes taking pictures of the scenery before him.

Y/n nodded for him to continue. "Shoot."

"Look, they fought earlier." His voice low, as if there could be any one else that could over hear them in the empty smoking area. "He wanted her. He told her it's her he wanted and she blew him off."

She let out a laugh in disbelief, shaking her head.

Of course. Of fucking course.

Y/n wasn't the first choice.

She was still and will always come before Sunhee. He had chosen her because the girl he wanted had given him the hard no.

She thought she would be heartbroken, but instead a new emotion had overtaken her – something that she hadn't once felt towards him.

All of a sudden, y/n began to see red.

Seungcheol had only wanted to make peace because he had nothing else left, and he thought she was stupid enough to fall right back into his trap.

Why did she ever think he'd ever see her as anything else but a seat filler? It was as if Minghao casted a spotlight an all of Seungcheol's actions – shedding light on all those moments she had chosen to turn a blind eye to.

The relationship she had always wished for, the small sweet moments she and Seungcheol shared were nothing but supercuts – a collection of good memories that seemed to have over powered all the others that had left her broken.

All the times he had left her hanging, forgetting the promised dates, leaving her messages on read, and endless nights of nothing but tears came flooding back – and instead of sadness and pain, she felt anger.

How had she let it get this far?

"I know that you're hanging on to the possibility of him changing– and who knows, maybe one day he will. But it's definitely not now." Minghao shook his head.

"You know he told me he wanted to do it right. He said he wanted to earn my trust." She let out a laugh. "God, he's so– He's–"

"An idiot? Dumbass? Asshole?"

"All of the above." She walked over to the metal bowl, putting her cigarette out – digging it into the accumulated ash.

"Sleep on it, yeah?" Minghao called out as she continued her journey to the entrance of the lobby.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

The sound of the curtains opening, the warm rays of the morning sun hitting her face caused her to stir in her sleep, slowly blinking her eyes open – a blurry Mingyu digging in suitcase was the first thing she was greeted by.

She had been asleep when he had arrived back from the gym – not bothering to wake her to notify her that he had brought back the chips she had requested. Opting to place it by the night stand that had divided their beds.

"Morning." She croaked, sinking deeper into the mattress.

Turning his head, he nodded at her before going back to searching for a shirt and swim trunks.

It was their last day before the wedding festivities began and he had under estimated the amount of garments he needed to pack for the trip – despite her warnings of packing extra outfits "just in case".

"You smell." He mumbled.

Mingyu had caught a hint of the stale odor when he had entered the room last night – a scent that had grown accustomed to as it lingered in his apartment balcony due to his roommate's need to fill his lungs with the grey smoke every once and while.

"I– uh, yeah." She didn't bother coming up with an excuse, nor did she have the energy to fight it.

Just as Minghao suggested, Y/n decided to sleep in it. There was no need to make a decision anyways, it wasn't like Mingyu felt the same way – and it wasn't like she had given Seungcheol the final answer.

The only conclusion she had reached was that she was tired. She no longer wanted to be in the middle of a mess due to relationships. More importantly, not the ones that had left her second guessing.

She and Mingyu agreed that their little game of charades would end by the end of the trip, and she would leave it at that. She'll worry about whatever feelings he had unearthed when they got back to the mainland; when the blanket of false reality that covered their friendship has been lifted.

And with the Minghao spilling the truth about Seungcheol's sudden decision to make his pick between her and Sunhee, she knew that she could no longer tolerate him and his little games. Not anymore.

Not when she no longer feels the same way she did months ago.

"Everything okay?" He kept his back turned, almost as if he was afraid to meet her eyes.

"Yeah, just– my brain is a little loud again." Her eyes was trained on his back.

He nodded, setting his choice of outfit for the day down atop of the rest of his folded garments before turning to face her. "Want to let me in?"

Chewing on the skin inside her cheek, y/n sat up in her bed; crossing her legs. He took this as an invitation to take seat where her legs had once taken space.

"If it's about–"

"Seungcheol talked to–" The two began simultaneously, pausing when they both heard one another speak over each other's voice

"You go first." He motioned for her to continue.

Truth be told, he wanted to be left in the dark. Mingyu didn't want to know what had gone down in their room when Seungcheol paid a visit.

Not when he already knows what she was about to say.

He had unfortunately run into Seungcheol in the hallway the night before, his friend giving him the heads up that he had finally made a choice.

Not only that, but he had requested for his assistance.

To allow him to make a move on y/n, to be exact.

Mingyu felt sick to his stomach the remainder of the night, unable to properly work out with Joshua and Soonyoung at the hotel's gym due to Seungcheol's voice ringing in his ears.

"I get it. I'm not your top pick for her, but– I need you to help me."

Mingyu was well aware they had agreed to end their arrangement by the end of the trip, he was completely fine with it. Up until Seungcheol had made him realize that this reality was fast approaching.

Not only that but the fact that he would lose all chances with her completely. As if he even had any chance, judging by her reaction from their sweet moment atop the jeep yesterday – chances were slim to none.

Seungcheol was the reason as to why they were pretending, after all. He made his decision and it was the one she had been waiting for.

All her hopes and dreams of having a relationship with Seungcheol was finally going to come true.

"Seungcheol told me he picked me." Y/n swallowed.

He didn't dare blink or react to the words that had left her lips.

And she couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed by his lack of emotions.

"That's good, right?"

God, someone just shoot him right now.

She shrugged. "Want to hear the kicker?"

He nodded for her to go on.

"Minghao overheard him telling Sunhee that he wanted to be with her just hours before he came and talked to me."

There was the expression she was looking for.

All the theories, the conclusions that he jumped to, were proven wrong.

His brows furrowed, the corner of his lips curling. He was angry.

"You're joking."

Y/n shook her head, letting out a small laugh. It was a pity laugh.

"You know what, fuck him." Mingyu rolled his eyes. "Had the fucking nerve to ask me to allow him to–"

"What?"

"What?" Mingyu replied quickly, realizing he had let his emotions overtake him – spilling his interaction with Seungcheol just minutes for he had entered their room.

"What did he ask you?"

Sighing, knowing that there was no way she was going to let it go. "I ran into him on the way to the gym. He told me all about his plans– God– I believed him. He seemed so sincere. He– "

Groaning to herself, Y/n leaned back against the headboard. "Stink, I'm so tired."

He looked at the girl, his eyes softening at the sight of her in pure defeat. His heart ached to see the girl he had been pining for, raising the white flag after the constant emotional beating she had received from Seungcheol.

Especially when he knows he could treat her far better.

"Come on," He reached to pull her up by her arm. "Just a two more days and you wont ever have to see him. I'll– I'll make sure he doesn't come anywhere near you."

"Thank you."

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

She scoffed at his acts. Watching as he laid his towel down in between Joshua and Jeonghan, actively avoiding Sunhee.

Seungcheol made it a point to make eye contact with her whilst he did this, almost as if it was his way to tell her that he was staying true to his words from the night before.

Y/n continued to apply the tanning lotion on her bare skin as the rest of the group happily helped themselves to the spam musubi Seungcheol had so generously bought just before they had all met at the beach – mumbling "It's warm this time." only for her to hear when he had set it down.

She couldn't believe it, but his efforts made her feel sick.

"Want some?" Mingyu asked, offering her a bite of the rice wrap.

Y/n shook her head. "Kinda craving an acai bowl, if I'm being honest."

Mingyu knew she had declined because it was purchased by Seungcheol and not because of the reason she had just said. He didn't dare press on the open wound, allowing for her to sit in silence as they listened to Seungkwan babble on about the prank Soonyoung and Chan had pulled on him earlier this morning.

The two boys had managed to get a copy of Seungkwan's room key from the front desk, ambushing him at the crack of dawn – putting on an act as if he had over slept and had missed the wedding. He had been so exhausted from the past few days, half asleep as he allowed for the false sense of panic from his two friends to trick him into getting dressed in his suit.

The group had doubled in laughter as Soonyoung jumped in, claiming that Seungkwan was nearly finished with buttoning his white long sleeve when he had realized it was all a joke.

"I never thought I would hear 'asshole, fuckers, sons of bitches, loser low lives' all in one sentence." Chan laughed, hitting the sand.

Joshua clutched his stomach, wiping the moisture from his eyes. "Oh my god, ow."

"Idiot." Mingyu laughed, shaking his head.

"I miss having us all together." Jeonghan hummed as the laughter subsided, leaning back on his elbows. "We should have more destination weddings."

"Not everyone is bleeding money like you, Han." Joshua snickered.

"Seungcheol is." He countered. "Doubt he'll marry soon, though."

"Pretty sure our only hope is Mr. Finance Bro and Ms. Nurse over here." Seokmin gestured over to Mingyu and Y/n – with their joint income, there was no second guessing they'd be able to ensure an all expense paid trip for the whole group.

"Yeah, if she doesn't break up with me." Mingyu snorted.

He was planting seeds in their heads for their inevitable end.

Y/n bit back the frown that threatened to form in her lips, not wanting any of it all to stop.

Stupid fucking kiss.

"Thin ice buddy." She joked, playfully shoving him.

They were playing a role, after all.

"Please, as if you two could find a better match for each other." Jeonghan rolled his eyes. "We've all been placing bets since junior year."

That caught the two's attention, Mingyu choking on a single grain of rice; nearly turning red from coughing.

Unbeknownst to the two, their friend group had been conspiring behind their backs – exchanging knowing glances with one another whenever the two bickered.

They claimed that they bickered like an old married couple, and it would only be a matter of time before they decide to resolve their small argument with a kiss.

Y/n disguised her shock with laughter, reaching over to pat Mingyu's back in attempts to soothe him. She didn't know how much more new revelations her poor brain can take.

This was not helping her thoughts, whatsoever.

"Don't act too surprised." Jeonghan laughed. "Speaking of, if I remember clearly, Seungkwan and Hansol you guys owe me $200 each. I take Zelle or Apple Pay."

"Doesn't your bank account have enough zeroes?" Seungkwan sassed.

"A bet is a bet."

"That we made years ago!" He cried.

Thankfully, the boys had decided to drop the subject – going on about the remaining few hours of their day lounging about on the sand.

Y/n had pulled her sunglasses over her eyes, shielding her from the sun and Seungcheol's lingering stares. It was almost as if he was waiting for any chance to speak to her, at times joining in on any conversation that had involved her or Mingyu.

It was stark difference to how he had previously been acting towards them in the past few days, joking around with no trace of his snarky tone or snide comments.

Mingyu chose to go along with change of attitude in his so-called friend, keeping his act going strong – as if Y/n hadn't told him about his sneaky plans of getting her back.

Don't get him wrong, it angered him. If he had it his way, Mingyu would have confronted Seungcheol in a heartbeat.

Maybe even landing a punch.

But he also knew it wasn't the right time or place, not when it has been years since the whole group was complete.

The girl laying next to him on the other hand had made her emotions quite obvious to Seungcheol; purposely avoiding his eyes when it was his turn to speak and choosing to pretend to not hear any of his attempts to spring up a conversation.

"Play nice." Mingyu mumbled only for her to hear as he leaned back on his elbows, going down to her level.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She smiled sweetly. Her way of feigning innocence to her recent actions.

Chuckling, Mingyu couldn't help but playfully pinching the tip of her nose; scrunching at his touch. "Watch out, they might catch you being a raging bitch."

"I still don't know what you're talking about." She hummed.

Mingyu had to fight yet another urge to lean down and plant a kiss on her lips, finding her a little too cute with as she continued with her oscar winning act.

Biting his lip, he sat back up on his towel – their distance had become quite dangerous for his liking and he didn't want another repeat of yesterday. "Gonna go play with the guys, wanna come?"

Glancing at the half empty row of towels, Y/n let out a sigh. She wasn't in the mood to be tossed by the waves that were currently crashing on to the shore – but it was far better than being left behind with Jihoon, who she barely knew, Joshua, and Seungcheol.

"Fuck it." She sat up, taking Mingyu's hand that had stretched out in front of her – helping her up off of the ground.

He didn't let go.

And she was more than happy with allowing his fingers interlock with hers as they made their way to the water.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

She had gone ahead of Mingyu, leaving him behind the small dining hall Jeonghan and Eunji had held their rehearsal dinner at – her social battery blinking at 0%.

Y/n felt the shapewear she had worn under her dress dig into her stomach, the strap of her heels cutting into her toes – she needed to change out of into a much more comfortable attire.

It wasn't like there was much else for her to do down there anyways; most of the family and friends that had been invited to the small gathering have retreated back to their rooms not too long before she had excused herself.

She knew if she stayed any longer, she'd just get talked into drinking more mixed drinks with the few that had stayed behind – and she wasn't really in the mood to have a hangover during the wedding.

Y/n could see her hotel room door, when she heard footsteps fast approaching behind her.

It was almost like a trauma response, she immediately knew that pace of walk – speed walk to be exact.

Seungcheol.

God, when will it end?

Turning to greet him, she was caught by surprise to see that he had closed their distance quite significantly – standing only a foot away from her.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asked, breathlessly.

He wasted no time slipping out of the hall when he had noticed she had bid her goodnight – following her up to their floor.

"What are you talking about?" Y/n deadpanned, pretending to not understand his sudden question.

"I–you've been avoiding me all day." Though she wasn't being too discreet with her actions, she didn't exactly think he would be able to catch on to it.

He never did paid attention to her before, anyways.

Apart from her active decision to give him the cold shoulder earlier at the beach, Y/n had successfully done the same during the rehearsal dinner.

She had kept her eyes on everywhere else but him, even going as far as leaving the glass of wine he had so kindly retrieved for her at the bar – claiming the one glass she had finished was enough.

Only for her to take sips of Mingyu's whisky the remainder of the night. He didn't care to protest, offering her the glass after he would take a swig himself.

"I thought we were on the same page." Seungcheol went on. "I– I said I chose you, and I'd prove it. I– you said okay."

Y/n didn't dare fight the urge to roll her eyes, his face flashing a look of confusion at her sudden hostility. "Do you think I'm that stupid?"

"Wha– what's going on?" He looked around, as if it was some hidden camera prank – waiting for a crew to jump out and surprise him.

"Minghao overheard you two at the ranch. He told me everything."

Silence.

He was dumbfounded and she was not even a bit shocked that he seemed to have lost his ability to speak.

She knew that he didn't think she would ever find out about what had happened between him and Sunhee – and judging by his reaction, he was never planning on telling her.

"You didn't choose me." Y/n scoffed. "Sunhee rejected you."

"What difference does that make?"

Y/n felt the blood under her skin begin to grow hot.

He was so fucking dense.

"You don't get it, do you?" She took a step towards him; Seungcheol nervously swallowing as she closed in on him. "You didn't choose me because you wanted me. You wanted a seat filler, a replacement. I'm not going to be your backup plan because your original one failed. I'm not going to be that girl anymore."

Anymore.

"Wha– oh my god... you fell for him, didn't you?" The light bulb in his head had turned on. "You're blowing me off because of him. You know he's not going to treat you any better–"

"Than what? You?" Y/n interjected, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I mean, you said it." Seungcheol shrugged, that stupid cocky smirk playing on his lips – that same one that had been painted on his face during their first few days on the island.

She began to feel the beat of her heart thump against her chest, the anger consuming her. He knew how to get under her skin, and he knew how to do it well.

He had been caught red handed and she knew he wasn't going down with a fight.

And neither was she.

"Being with him made me realize that the time I had spent with you was nothing but a waste of my time."

"You know it's not real right? When we get back home, he'll go back to his old ways."

His old ways.

Back to the line of girls that had waited for a chance with him.

The smirk on his lips grew larger as he watched his words get into her head, knowing that he had struck a nerve. "He's just like me, Y/n. You may not choose me, but running to him won't serve you any better."

"Fuck you." Y/n gritted her teeth, clenching her fists at her side as she fought back the tears of frustration that threatened to fall from her eyes.

She hated that any hint of anger made her cry.

And God, was she fuming.

"You have, multiple times." He raised his brows. "Remember?"

That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Her hand was far quicker than her brain. It wasn't until her palm collided with his cheek that she had fully processed what she had done.

It was long over due and it felt good.

"Whoa, what's going on here?" Mingyu's voice called from the end of the hall – quickly running over to where the two stood. He had slowly made his way out of the elevator when he heard the loud smack echo through the walls – sobering him in an instant.

Mingyu had wedged himself between the two, using one arm to move y/n's body behind his. He wasn't too sure what had taken place, or what had prompted the loud sound – but he knew it wasn't anything good.

Nothing Seungcheol was involved with has ever equated to the word "good".

"I think it's time for you to go to your room, Cheol." His voice firm, towering over the man in front of him.

Seungcheol didn't need to be told twice, scoffing as he turned his heel towards the other side of the corridor.

"Are you okay?" Mingyu's eyes wide as he faced her, placing both hands on either side of her shoulders as he scanned her. "Did he hurt you?"

Y/n shook her head as the pads of his thumb wiped away the remaining tears on her face. "I slapped him."

"Oh." Mingyu paused.

"He– I can't believe I defended him for so long." She sniffled.

A wave of embarrassment crashed into her as she recalled all the times she had made excuses for all his actions like her life depended on it. She could have sworn the man she had initially fell for was not the same one she had just faced, unable to fully wrap her mind around what had just taken place.

"Everyone makes mistakes." Mingyu used the sleeve of his button down to wipe her nose, earning a laugh from the girl.

"I don't have snot, you idiot." Y/n lightly smacked his arm away.

"I know." He laughed. "Just wanted to make you smile."

Seungcheol was wrong. Though they had shared some similarities, Mingyu was nowhere near like him.

Especially not when it came to her.

Mingyu had and will always treat her delicately. He would never dare say or do anything to hurt her.

Like he said a few days back, he'd do anything for her happiness.

Getting over him may just be far more painful that getting over Seungcheol.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

To say the setting was beautiful was an understatement; the grassy lawn of the hotel had been transformed to any bride's dream.

Various kinds of white flowers lined the rows and the altar, creating a sight that only a girl could have imagined and pinned on her pinterest board.

Y/n's breath had been taken away when she had first taken a seat, snapping a few pictures before they were instructed to put all their devices away for an unplug ceremony.

She couldn't help but be in awe as the each second passed, shedding a few tears when she had caught a glimpse of Jeonghan's lips quivering at the sight of Eunji making her way down the aisle.

"Jeonghan," Eunji spoke into the mic, taking her turn to profess her vows in front of their guests; a wide grin on her face. "People often talk about how difficult relationships are and I happily can say that I can't relate to them. I get that relationships takes a lot of work, but being with you have never felt like this. It's like I clocked into a shift with my favorite coworker. Our days have always been filled with laughter, the only tears you've ever brought me were when you would make those stupid silly jokes that I love so much. They say love is hard but our love has been the easiest part of my life. And I guess, it's because you have made it so easy. You're not only my life partner but my best friend and I can't wait to start this new chapter of our life together. Today, as I stand here in front of our families and friends, I Park Eunji take you Yoon Jeonghan as my lawfully wedded husband."

While everyone clapped, some wiping away their tears, Y/n couldn't help but let here eyes stray to the line of groomsmen that stood behind Jeonghan — her eyes meeting Mingyu's who has had his eyes trained on her even before Eunji began her vows.

Everything Eunji had described about Jeonghan was what y/n had come to realize about Mingyu two days ago. That easy love, those days filled with laughter, the silly jokes – they were all connecting back to Mingyu.

Y/n had always thought that when someone was in love, they felt butterflies in their stomach – creating a restless buzz each time they were near the person they were destined to be with.

She had mistaken the lack of butterflies whenever she was around Mingyu as her not actually having any feelings for him – but simply being caught up in their act of faux lovers.

This whole time, it was because he brought a new sense of calm upon her. She had been in a constant state of fight or flight for such a long time that she failed to realize that he was the only one that could pull her out of it all the chaos that surrounded her.

He was the calm after the storm – hurricane to be exact.

Sending her a wink from where he stood, Mingyu couldn't help but crack a smile as she returned it.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

They were both returning from the bar, each with a drink in hand, when the sound of familiar chorus of voices blared through the speakers.

It was as if they the same thought had ran across their mind at the same time, exchanging knowing glances before letting out a soft laugh.

Baby I'm yours. And I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky.

It was their song.

They were both well aware it was a love song, but they didn't care. It had held some weird attachment to the two, being the first song she had recommended to him when they were teenagers.

It was her poor attempts of hinting her feelings towards the boy at the time, but his undeveloped frontal lobe never put two and two together – finding the melody of the song beautiful.

She had played it countless of times around him that when he had later heard the song without her, his mind went straight to all the times she would softly hum along to the tune.

She had pavloved him.

This song would follow them throughout the years, having it's fair share of being blasted in their cars or apartments – obnoxiously dancing and singing along to the old time tune cover.

They were at their assigned table within seconds, setting their drinks down. Before she could even take a seat, Mingyu had stepped in front of her – holding his hand out.

"May I have this dance?" A playful grin on his lips.

He wasn't going to waste this perfect opportunity. It was their last night together as a couple.

Their last dance.

He was never going to have this same chance again, and he was going to make the most of it.

One last time.

"You may." Y/n laughed, taking his hand – allowing him to lead her to the center of the room, joining other paired up bodies.

"Oh gross!" Minghao pretended to gag as he took their unattended drinks – claiming it as his own.

"Yours until the poets ran out of rhyme..." Mingyu sang, spinning her.

A giggle emitted from her lips as he caught her, dipping her before they swayed like two idiots.

"I didn't get to thank you for last night." Y/n relaxed her arms around his neck.

After they had gone back to their room, he allowed her to join him in his bed – patting her back as she cried into one of his pillow. He listened until she had fallen asleep in the middle of her endless rant — rambling on and on about how stupid she was to allow Seungcheol to continuously break her heart.

Mingyu didn't dare wake her, knowing that the her emotions had taken a toll on her. Instead, he allowed Y/n to stay – making sure not to cross the metaphorical boundary he had drawn in his head as she lightly snored on the left side of the bed.

By the time she woke, he had already left the room – having joined the rest of the groomsmen for their scheduled breakfast and pre-wedding game of golf.

Not without a text notifying her of this, of course.

Not that he needed to tell her, it was out of pure courtesy.

"S'fine. I just hope the next guy you date doesn't give you a hard time." Mingyu shrugged.

He had hoped the next and final guy was him.

"Are you getting tired of wiping my tears?" She countered, playfully.

"Tired of seeing you cry over men." He corrected.

"Me too." Y/n sighed. "I think I won't date any guy until I find the same kind of love Eunji described. You know, the easy kind. The one that makes all the shitty days not seem all that bad."

She maintained her eye contact with him as she spoke — and if he had been able to read her thoughts before, he would be able to tell that she was describing him.

"It wasn't a mistake." Mingyu hoped he had guessed her unspoken words correctly. "I meant it."

He was talking about the kiss.

Y/n felt her breath hitch in her throat — coming out as a hiccup.

She had initially felt unsure about her feelings towards him — afraid that it was nothing but her mind playing tricks on her.

But she also knew him better than she knew herself. The second she had caught his stare after Eunji's vows, she had never felt more sure in her life.

He had felt the same way.

It was only a matter of how either one of them was going to bring it up.

"How long?" Y/n knew that he wasn't one to act impulsively around her — she hated surprises.

Even the good ones.

She knew that if he truly meant to kiss her, it was something that he had been thinking of for quite some time now.

"Been waiting for months now."

"Months?"

"Maybe even years." Mingyu replied with a shrug.

"Years?"

This was it. He was going to finally allow himself to tell her the same words he had recited over and over again in front of the mirror.

As the final chorus of the song began, Mingyu allowed for the singers voices to drown out all the other noises around them — his eyes blurring everything but her.

"It's always been you." Mingyu's voice was soft, his hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand behind her ear. "To me, there was never first, second, third, or fourth choice. It's you."

He looked at her in pure adoration, his brows turned down and eyes filled with stars — a look she had never seen before.

"It was you when you spent nearly every day waiting for me to finish basketball practice in high school. It was you when you stayed up all night to help me study for my econ final at the library our sophomore year in college. It was you when you rescued from a shitty dinner at my parents five months ago. It's you now and it's going to be you tomorrow, and the next day, and all the days after that."

All while she was hoping to be the first pick in Seuncheol's life, she had been the first and only in Mingyu's.

He didn't dare keep a spare — he knew no one could measure up to Y/n.

As the song wrapped up, he stepped away from her — giving her one last spin before pulling her back in. "I hope it's me too." He whispered.

Taking his hand, she guided him away from the chaos of the party and out into the stillness of patio, with the only thing to be heard was the muffled music behind the closed doors and the distant sound of the waves crashing on to the shore.

"You know, you never gave me butterflies." Y/n began.

"Did you bring me out here to rej—"

Y/n held her hand up, stopping him mid sentence. "I guess I was so used to the emotional rollercoaster that all my exes have put me through that I began mistaking that gut feeling, you know— the one that warns you that something was a bad idea— as butterflies. Whenever I'm around you, I don't feel anything in my stomach because I feel safe."

Mingyu's confusion had once again turned into adoration, practically melting into her hand as he clung onto her words.

"That easy love Eunji spoke of, the one I said I wanted. It's you." Y/n continued. "You're the easiest part of my day— hell, you're the easiest part of my life. Whenever I'm with you, I have no worries, no doubts. It took me a while but, it's yo—"

Mingyu couldn't wait any longer, he was practically bouncing on his toes before he closed the gap between them — swooping down to capture her lips with his.

"Wait—" She pulled away with a giggle. "I have more to sa—"

Mingyu shook his head, dipping back down to meet her lips. "Save it for your vows." He mumbled.

Vows.

Pulling away once again, y/n gave him a look — all while he pouted.

How many times was she going to do this?

"Wha— don't tell me you said all that with no plans on marrying me."

"Are you saying you want to marry me?" She emphasized.

Mingyu used his thumb to gesture over to where the reception was currently being held, his head tilting. "Did you not just hear what I told you on the dance floor?"

"Yeah but—"

"Exactly, so can I please kiss you now?"

"Yeah okay—Ah slow down." She held up a finger, wagging it at him. "I swear to God, Kim Mingyu if you break my he—"

"Shut up, stink." Kissing her for the third time in under five minutes — smiling as he felt her relax under his touch.

All those heartbreaks, the tears he wiped – they were finally ending.

War has ended.

Y/n was finally in the arms of the man that never dared to put a frown on her face, getting the love that she deserved.

@thepoopdokyeomtouched/ @scuzmunkie / @yunjin0 / @morkswatermelonnnn / @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan / @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken / @naturelvrgfstealer / @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter / @musingsofananxiouspotato / @f4iryjjosh / @gatorgirl007 / @girlwithimaginarybiaslist / @daisawa / @ttragiquee / @luchiet / @loveforred /@vannabanana1995 / @uniq-tastic / @porridgesblog / @haolistic / @bbl32 / @calumsfringe / @alsktudy / @chansbaybygirl / @alwaysalmostthere / @listxn / @soupbinlily / @hanniebaby95 / @yonabutnotyuna / @buffhoshi / @kawennote09 / @wwwellacom / @hanniebaby95 /

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thefiresfromheaven · 9 months

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I'm posting this here for my new blog. I'm in search of a beta reader once again now that I'm writing again. If your interested and would like to apply then just follow the link! I'm so ready to start posting on @the-fire-of-heaven you guys have no idea lol.

#beta reader #beta request #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x oc #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea riverdale #riverdale #pre war harry potter #post war harry potter #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy smut #draco x oc #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x oc #sweet pea smut #harry potter series #hp fandom #riverdale fanfiction

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residenthughes · 1 month

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coming home - connor dewar

pairing: connor dewar x fem! reader

word count: 11k

tags/warning: friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst?, mentions of alcohol/drinking, minor swearing

summary: your entire life has entailed having connor by your side, no matter where the universe carves your paths. back home for the summer leading up to your final year of university, there's much to ponder - even your feelings about your best friend.

notes: this is genuinely a labour of love, the longest fic i've written in a long time 😭 i wanted this to be short and sweet, but it's long and sweet and i don't know how to feel about that lmao. but (!!!) i am really proud/happy about how this has come together and i hope you all enjoy this fic just as much as i loved writing it 😇 this is mostly proofread, but it is 5 in the morning, so I'll return to this soon! (apologizes for any errors towards the end!) more dewey content shall be coming soon, hehe! much love! <333

(also! this is very much in celebration of dewey's first goal as a leaf, teehee! 😁💗⭐️)

Summer’s always your favourite time of the year. Tan lines, midnight drives, fireworks, the beach. So much sweetness is in the breezy summer air and you simply can’t get enough. You wouldn’t admit it, but your favourite part of the season is when one of your closest friends, Connor, comes up from his gruelling hockey season and returns to the slow and laid-back lifestyle of your small town. Having grown up next door neighbours the majority of your lives, you quickly became two peas in a pod, always together with laughter following closeby.

Your friendship is something you’ve always treasured, held in some reclusive and special part of your heart that only houses your fated connection. No matter how mundane your time together may be - Connor strumming his acoustic guitar and you reading as the citrus sunset dips into the horizon - it's all so memorable to you and nothing, as you’ve come to experience, can ever replace his place in your life. However, life is a constant cycle of change and that first dose came when you two were fourteen, too awkward for your own good and growing out of your bodies. Connor was selected to play in a high-level hockey league hours away from your hometown and as your fingertips buried themselves into his tear-soaked t-shirt, you swore nothing could compare to this pain. The absolute tear of your beating heart out of your raw chest that ached with every gasp. You were a mess, undeterred by your futile attempt to appear as nonchalant at your silly age, but the second Connor stood on your porch, luggage in hand and the sadest tinge in his sage eyes, you fell apart.

Despite the sheer anguish you experienced that crisp autumn day, you adjusted. Stayed in contact with your best friend and continued to build up your life in his absence. Completed all your teenage rites of passage - took some extracurriculars, went to prom (you wanted to ask Connor, but ultimately decided against it), graduated high school and started attending university in Calgary - nine hours away from home. So many things changed and some still stayed the same. Connor was still as hockey obsessed and through his diligent efforts, he’s achieved his dreams of playing in the NHL night after night. You were there for draft day and there for his first game, university be damned. As was Connor, in the stands during your high school graduation and any time you needed him, whether that was him sitting on the phone with you until four in the morning or meeting up with you halfway across two countries because he felt like it. There was always something so spectacular about you two, your stories detailed by destiny and hung amongst the stars. A divine creation that despite the odds, of paths that have taken you two elsewhere, always merged because that is simply how it’s meant to be.

And, so it is, your last summer before your final year and here you are, fingertips tapping against the wooden bar as your leg jerks in anticipation of a figure that will come through your hometown bar, Punch & Judy’s doors any minute now.

Your best friend, Charlotte, manages to interweave your antsy fingers in between hers, a nurturing smile across her smooth face. “He’ll get here, don’t worry.”

Your eyebrows quirk, your legs stopping all motion. “Who said anything about worrying?”

She rolls her eyes, unamused. “You know what I mean,”

Then, she goes on to untangle your fingers, leaning her crossed arms against the bar occupied by the usual mellow group of regulars, including your own bunch of friends. “Besides, you know him. Knowing you’re here, he’s tryna get here quicker than a New York minute.”

A funny feeling flips in the pits of your stomach, an immediate flush coating the apples of your cheeks as you clumsily grab at your cider bottle. Connor always poked fun at your inability to enjoy a cold one, resorting to fruity flavours of cider. “He’s a law-abiding citizen, he’ll wait for the greenlight even if it kills him.”

“If you say so,” Charlotte casts you a glance out of the corner of her eye, smugness tugging at the corners of her lips as she takes another swig of her beer. The bell signifying the main door opening sounds in the background. “Oh, look. Speak of the devil and he shall appear! Hey there, stranger!”

Suddenly, your attention is elsewhere, eyes pinned to the tall silhouette that struts through the doorway of the LED ridden bar, kind eyes and a kinder smile with his tousled hickory hair and hushed voice finding its way to your eardrums again after so long. It’s like coming home again, watching from afar as close friends fall into endless hugs, your reunion saved for last as you beam a closed mouthed smile, reproduced by your best friend who opens his arms for a hug that solely belongs to you. You fall into him instinctively, inhaling his soft woody scent as you bury yourself in his embrace, the pendulum of your life coming to a pause as your universe centres.

“Get a room, you two!” Connor’s brother, Quinn taunts from over your shoulder, eliciting an exaggerated sigh from you as you’re reluctantly reminded of the lame chirps he seems to be full of whenever you and Connor are together.

You ignore him, savouring the moment for what its momentarily worth before Connor’s pulling away, arms loosely wrapped around the circumference of your waist as he peers down at you with those same green eyes you’ve known your entire life.

“Hi.” you breathe, short and sweet.

He simpers, something coy in the lines of his smile as he replies back, “hi.”

It’s a simple greeting, but there’s so much more in those few syllables - the endless gravity of your shared experiences and fondest memories making their way back to each other. Your eyes linger for a minute longer, taking in each other’s presence that’s long been missed due to your busy schedules leading up to your summer break. You part ways and despite how fulfilled you are to have him here and see him after some time, there’s a small knack that nags at you - hollow and wanting as you venture to a booth nearby, squishing up in between Charlotte and another one of your guy friends, Owen Power, who like Connor has been busting his ass in the NHL and friends with you all for longer than you can remember. You all chatter amongst yourselves with Connor’s brother sitting across from you, a discussion brewing as Connor returns shortly after getting a drink at the bar, sliding beside his brother with a beer in hand.

“Come on, Connie. Help me out here, these guys have lost the plot.” His brother argues, an eye roll your response.

Connor looks between your group, a knit in his eyebrows. “What’s the deal?”

“They’re tryna say, get this - that dolphins are more dangerous than damn orcas. Can you believe that?” Quinn attests, expression pinched as he ruffles the curls of his bleached hair sticking out his snapback.

“Hey! We’re well within reason to be arguing with you. You on the other hand? I don’t think so.” Charlotte proclaims, an accusatory finger directed towards Quinn.

“Yeah, not gonna lie, Quinn. You’re severely underestimating how evil dolphins are,” concludes Owen, his hand raised as he pushes up his glasses on the bridge of his sunkissed nose.

Quinn guffaws, jaw slack as his eyes flicker between everyone’s faces in quick succession, clearly in disbelief. “Are you hearing this right now?”

“Look, Q - we’ve been over this,” you start, hands extending as if to make sense of your proposed point. “You’ve been fed dolphin propaganda. We’ve literally shown you so many resources about their heinous crimes. Take it or leave it.”

Quinn groans, elbowing his older brother who wordlessly listens to the ongoing conversation. “Bro! A little help would be nice.”

A brief pause follows his younger brother’s melodrama, Connor weighing out the arguments of a conversation he hadn’t been here for, his eyes flickering over towards yours fleetingly. An unexplained shiver runs down your spine, the action camouflaged poorly as you appear to distract yourself from the sensation, fingernails scratching against the lines of your neck as you look up at the ceiling.

“Hello?!” hollers Quinn.

You swear he loves to hear himself talk.

“They’re right,” Connor concludes, eyes set on you as he speaks before he takes a swig of his beer, focusing back onto his brother. “Personally, I think you’ve been taking one too many trips to Sea World.”

“The promised land of dolphin propaganda.” mentions Charlotte.

“This is ridiculous!” Quinn exclaims, sending a heavy elbow into his older brother’s arm, all of which barely gains any sort of response from him. “What happened to honour amongst bros, huh? They don’t have that in Minnesota or what?”

Connor scoffs lightly, his smile reading amused as his head turns towards his brother. “That doesn’t mean I have to agree with everything you say.”

Quinn mumbles something under his breath, clearly displeased. “I forget you’re my harshest critic.”

Their double act entices the crowd, your circle of friends laughing amongst yourselves as Quinn folds his shoulders with his usual theatrics. No one buys into it, much less Connor who drapes his arm loosely around his brother’s squared shoulders, leaning in with a tickled pink smile that reflects within your own expression.

“You’re just mad I won’t kiss your ass.”

That earns him a shove off Quinn’s shoulders, sending him into a fit of laughter. Everyone chortles along, basking in the merriment of the moment before you’re delving into other non-controversial topics, indulging everyone in the bits and pieces of your lives they’ve missed and just like that, you're four drinks in and so sentimental it hurts. Owen suggests a walk around the town centre, a tradition you cannot help but all agree to as you all shimmy out of your respective booth, bidding Judy at the bar farewell as you file out of the establishment.

The cobalt sky dazzles with stars you’ve forgotten shine so bright here, the midday heat nowhere in sight as a cool breeze pushes you forwards. You linger behind Quinn as he impulsively hops onto Owen’s back, who stumbles at the sudden weight whilst Charlotte laughs at the unfolding scene. Nostalgia warms your heart at the sight, eyes half-closed and posture relaxing as the warm summer night holds you close and kisses your worries goodbye.

An arm drapes over your shoulders, your slow strides matching up with Connor’s as he looks to you, smile small and earnest as he playfully challenges, “Since when did you know about dolphin propaganda?”

You gasp, humour shaping your lips. “Well, you’ve been in my ear most of my life yapping about it, so…”

“Hey, I’m just saying - was I wrong?” the smirk on his face attests to his unwavering confidence and as you catch a whiff of his woody cologne, you roll your eyes in defeat, smile still on your lips.

“Considering you wore a shark tooth to school, I didn’t think so.”

You have to bite back the wide smile that fights to spread across your face, a few snickers here and there escaping before the loose ring around your shoulders closes in, Connor smushing your face inwards against the strength of his bicep. You can’t help but laugh throughout, swatting away his pesky grip that lasts no longer than a few seconds before all you hear is the echoes of your winded chuckles. In an effort to stabilise yourself from the momentary loss of oxygen, your hand seeks Connor’s, holding onto his larger and warmer as your feet hit the pavement in unison.

“Feels good to be back, doesn’t it?”

You let your head fall to Connor’s shoulder, arm wrapping around his lower back as your steps sync with such ease. A lightness in your limbs and how perceptive you can be to the sounds of downtown - car horns, hushed chatter and the like - let you know there’s nowhere you’d rather be right now than here. Back at home, with your best friends and your partner in crime who you answer in the form of a hum.

Your first few days back in the Pas are slow and uneventful, most of your time spent decompressing from the taxing semester and unpacking your items, all of which you didn’t know just how much you possessed. In an effort to make the most of the sunshine and get out the house for reasons other than your part time job at the local diner, you sign up for community gardening activities and ask the groupchat if anyone wants to come along. Everyone appears to have plans, except for Connor, who in the early hours of the next morning, picks you up from your childhood home and drives into town where for the next few hours, you’re knee deep in dirt under the blaring sun as you plant various kinds of greenery to spotlight the natural beauty of your rustic town.

What is certain, when early afternoon pours in, painting the sky in shades of honey and tangerine, you’re exhausted beyond belief. You have no idea how Connor makes the drive home, yet he does and when you two collapse into the hammock in your family’s backyard, your lips are slack and echoing more yawns than you can contain.

“That was great and all, but that’s knocked me out,” Connor groans, limp body shuffling in the confinements of the cotton hammock hanging off one of the trees in your backyard. The same tree which holds the treehouse you and Connor partially lived in throughout your youth. “That was more tiring than hockey practice.”

You’re tired and easily distracted, your head perched up in a way that puts the treehouse in your direct eye-line. “Remember when we’d watch movies in that treehouse?”

A brief pause follows, occupied by the tranquil chirps and running water from the nearby bird bath. “Yeah, I’d always wanna watch Jaws but you wanted to watch Disney movies.”

You give him a laugh, shuffling yourself in order to get comfortable in the small space. Why did you two think this would work like it did ten years ago? The thought occurs to you, but you brush it off to save yourself additional mental load, making the adjustments to cater to some form of comfortability in the tiny space. Even if that means sacrificing your shared personal space as your body overlaps onto Connor’s strong and firm one.

“Says the guy who knows the all the songs in Lemonande Mouth,” you counter, “And, Let it Shine.”

Without missing a beat, in his sleepy voice, Connor replies with, “kissy kissy, Roxanne, did you miss me?”

Groaning despite the snickers slipping past your lips, you bury your head into Connor’s chest, refusing to hear the rest of his ramblings. “My girl is hotter than your girl, you know it! You know it.”

To get your point across, you unbury your head, wide eyes peering up at your best friend who’s so amused by this all, hair messy and smile stretching from ear to ear. A bright sight. “Can you not?”

“You’re just hating 'cause I sing better than you.” He follows that by sticking his tongue out at you, so mature for his age that you grant him the response of a heavy sigh and an averted gaze, settling back into the peace and serenity of your backyard.

However, the silence doesn’t last long before you’re speaking again.

“Your hair’s getting long,” you observe, fingertips dancing along Connor’s nape as you absently fiddle with the long strands of his hair, silky between your fingers. “You should let me cut it.”

“Name a time and place, and I’ll be there,” he mumbles sleepily against the crown of your head, soothing you further towards a serene sleep. “Unless you fuck it up. Then, I won’t forgive you.”

You give him the satisfaction of a laugh tucked away in your chest, the ghost of a smile dissipating as the aches of a hard work’s start to plunge their teeth into your flesh and bones, body like cement as you sink further into the comfort of the hammock, into the comfort of your calm summer afternoon.

“One of my friends from my team’s supposed to be coming up for a night or two,” Connor croaks, voice hoarse and the gentle breeze of the summer’s day pecking your skin in an act of love. “Think…you’ll all get along with him quite well.”

His point is punctuated by a tired yawn that proves to be contagious as you mirror the action moments after, eyes unbearably heavy as time moves slow like molasses, body further sinking against Connor’s. You don’t even stop yourself from falling asleep, only blinking away the exhausted sting in your eyes to answer your best friend.

“Can’t wait,” you mumble, adjusting your body against Connor as your limbs slot together like puzzle pieces, matched at every curve as slumber envelopes you two in a kind embrace. “It’ll be good - the visit…and the rest of summer.”

Your words trail in a drowsy daze, tone doused in sleepiness as your eyes can no longer keep themselves open, glimpses of hickory branches and pear leaves wishing you peace and serenity as you finally fall asleep.

Your shift at the local diner passes without as much traffic as expected, local patrons ordering their usual with a few tourists dropping by to try the culinary experience of your average but nostalgic diner food. Due to how quiet the establishment is - Mabel, your boss and long-time owner of the diner - lets you off early and with a hug, you scurry back to your family house to get ready for the night's events. After dozing off with Connor in the hammock out back, your mother softly awoke to you with a holler she’s used since the dawn of time.

“Up and at ‘em, kids. Dinner’s ready!” in the distance of your dreams, you hear your mother yell.

With drowsy film still coating your eyes, you and Connor manage to dislodge your limbs from one another, sleepy smiles and croaky chuckles exchanged as you amble inside your house and Connor stays for a filling homemade meal that everyone at the dining table fawns over. Connor hangs back as you venture into the kitchen to wash up, a tradition you two have forged, him washing the dishes and you drying them. Not much dialogue takes place between the two of you and there is no need. For all the instances where you believed the need for conversation, you appreciate this silence so much more - how there’s no urge to talk for the sake of talking and how much comfort there is with simply just being with Connor. After you’ve done the washing up and Connor’s hugged your mother goodbye, fist bumping your father hilariously enough, he’s climbing into his car and wishing you well.

“You sure you don’t need me to pick you up from Mabel’s?” coaxes Connor, the wiggle of his eyebrows offsetting the echoes of titters that leave your lips.

“I’m good, thanks. Need to shower and get ready, anyways,” a gentle gust of wind blows, fallen leaves scraping against the cement of your driveway. “We all know how long that takes.”

“I don’t mind waiting.” Connor simpers, says like it’s the easiest thing in the world and like it doesn’t demand for the city of butterflies within you to soar beyond their ability.

You flash a strained smile, giving the top of Connor’s car a pat as your posture straightens and you step away from the vehicle. “Goodbye, Connor.”

“See you soon.” and just like that, he’s gone with the wind, taking a little piece of you with him.

It’s when you’re strolling your way back inside the house, halfway up the stairs to your bedroom that your mom gives you a gentle call, beckoning you back down the stairs to find her in the dimly lit living room, mahogany reading glasses hanging low on the bridge of her nose whilst the quiet snores of your father and his baseball game fill in the background noise.

She folds her newspaper, crinkles running up your spine as she addresses you. “So good to have Connie over, makes me miss him more when he’s away.”

Connor is like a son to her, the better part of your childhood glued at the hip whilst your parents cooed and awed at your loyalty to one another. He helps around the house with no complaint nor expectation of compensation, buys her favourite flowers every Mother’s day with an additional heartfelt gift come her birthday. He listens, he jokes and he cares. What more could she ask for?

“Can’t imagine how much more you miss him whilst you’re away.” she comments, throwing her denim clad leg over the other, directing all her attention to you, swaying between two feet with your hands behind your back, sceptical.

“Well, we try to meet up when we can, so it’s not too bad,” your hand goes to scratch the back of your neck, chin jutted as your head leans to the side. “…Is that why you called me down?”

Awkwardness rarely rears its head in your household built upon openness and unconditional love, which is why the unspoken truth your mother struggles to vocalise raises a red flag, your skin prickling as you fiddle with your hands behind your back.

She’s looking at you now, a maternal love in her eyes as she speaks up. “Maybe, I can’t really put my finger on it, really. I did, however, want to say that I hope you guys keep each other in your lives, however that may pan out in the future. There’s a special happiness in your eyes I want you two to be selfish with.”

It’s a small thing, she says. A snowflake amongst the pile of snow in the realms of your mind, but as you lay in bed later on that late afternoon, staring at the gold stars Connor helped hang up in your room, your mind wanders places it never conceptualised. Inserts Connor in places in your life where he hadn’t been previously - opposite you illuminated by a candle-lit dinner, dancing in a kitchen as you prepare breakfast and kiss each other in between, above your bare body as he holds you in the palm of his hand like you are the most precious thing the universe has gifted him. It’s a point in time that despite busying yourself with dipping your toes back into your hobbies - heck, even walking your next door neighbour’s golden retriever to clear your head - it never quite leaves you, awakening something deep and dormant in you that never goes away.

Snapping out of your syrupy daze, you adorn yourself in your finest line dance clothing, slipping on your gingerbread cowboy boots before you’re tying bows in the pigtails of your hair. Your mother yells down the stairs for you and you leave in a flash, kissing her goodbye as she drops you off at Punch and Judy’s, your jewellery clinking together as you walk through the main entrance.

Much like your first night back, the bar is illuminated in dim light and sharp LED lights of varying colours. Cowboy hats dominate the sea of customers, the building crowd of the bar dressed in shades of denim and tired leather cowboy boots. Knowing the others have already arrived, saving a spot at a nearby booth, you decide to make your way to the bar first, ordering your signature berries-flavoured cider, to which Punch (co-owner) makes quick work of, the cold beverage in your hands before you can blink.

“Beer not to your liking, sugar?” A smoky, mellow voice grabs your attention.

You spare a glance at the source of the gravel voice, eyes long lingering as they capture the image of a face that stirs a flip in the pits of your stomach. The man stood beside you braces his muscular arms against the hickory brown of the wooden bar, his sleepy chocolate eyes trained on yours as he takes a swig of his tequila flavoured Desperado beer. Locks of umber messily cascade along his face, unless tucked away in his vintage black cowboy hat that ties together the rugged cowboy look he presents with the sweet addition of his light stubble. To make things worse, he’s stupidly fit, his black t-shirt clinging to the curves of his muscles like second skin. If it were up to you, you’d-

“Like what you see?”

The smug comment snaps you out of your hazy olge, a pout forming upon your lips with an accompanying knit in your eyebrows. You make a point to angrily grab at your pint glass, ingesting a big gulp of the sugary alcohol whilst the rugged cowboy laughs to himself.

Even his laugh is attractive. Sick bastard.

“Coming from a man drinking a Desperado? Funny,” you have to laugh at whatever lame attempt of making conversation this man is pulling, Punch masking his misplaced laughter behind a cough as he polishes a pint glass. “How flirtatious you are.”

You admit, your latter remark is more bark than bite, a quick chirp that refuses to feed his ego yet grab his interest all at the same time. The ruse proves to work in your favour as the sexy cowboy gives another one of his huffed laughs, his body turned towards yours.

“Give me a chance, sugar. Just tryna start the night off right,” he counters, so brazenly confident in himself that you don’t know whether to laugh or shy away from his prying eyes. “Tequila beer and beautiful company - sounds about perfect to me.”

You react in a juxtaposition, eyes rolling and cheeks flushing as you divert your line of sight away from the handsome man flirting with you at your hometown bar. Perhaps, he’s some city folk travelling through the town, fancying himself a good time at Punch & Judy’s weekly hoedown Fridays, a little bit of flirting on the side to inflate his ego and keep his blood pumping. Whatever reason explains his presence, you are not one to complain. Your love life isn't very entertaining to put it mildly, so you're willing yourself not to get swept up in his caramel eyes.

Against the wishes of your quickening heart, you decide to give Mr. Handsome Traveller the time of day, body shifting as you face each other finally. “You don’t quit, don’t you?”

He cocks an eyebrow your way, something sneaky and sugary in the lines of his smile. A brief pause follows his actions, the soft rustic sounds of old town country murmuring from the jukebox nearby filling up in the space between your figures. It’s when he’s about to make yet another cocky comment that your conversation is put on pause.

Connor’s voice calls your name, head turning to find your best friend standing in between you and the Punch & Judy’s cowboy of the night, eyes wide and expectant as they shift back and forth in the middle of your standing figures.

“Dew, forget about Desperados tonight. The lady in bows will have your head otherwise.” Handsome Traveller nods his chin towards you, humour dancing in his smile as he snickers into his half-full glass.

Then, it dawns on you. Dew? One of the handful of nicknames Connor’s adopted over the course of his livelihood. So, they’re acquaintances? Or closer? Your eyes frantically search for social clues to point you in the right direction.

“The lady in bows is my best friend,” Connor explains, a bite to his words as his eyes glare a knowing look at Sexy Cowboy. He then goes on to face you, gaze softening almost immediately as his head tilts in his friends (?) direction. “This is Brandon, or Dewey One.”

Oh. Makes sense, you rationalise. This is Brandon, Connor’s close friend and teammate on his current team out in Minnesota, the one who gets into fights he can’t win on the ice whilst Connor trails nearby picking up his fallen gear. The one he told you a couple of days ago that was coming up to visit. And, of course you were flirting with him.

Of. Course.

“Dewey One?” you ask, minorly deflecting from your embarrassment and still genuinely curious.

Connor inhales, as if to speak but Brandon beats him to it.

“Brandon’s just fine,” he interjects, expression unassuming as Connor’s eyes put his visiting friend underneath a microscope. “Nice to meet you, darling.”

Normally, you’d wrinkle your nose at the sometimes sleazy pet name Brandon casually calls you, except this time round you find it more amusing than cringe-worthy, which is how you find yourself grinning as you two exchange a handshake that testifies to how strong Brandon is. You clear your throat to stop the circus unfolding within you.

“Come on,” Connor gestures over to you to follow suit. “Can’t keep ‘em waiting.”

You call out an agreement over your shoulder as you go to grab your drink, the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention as a close whisper brushes past your ears.

“I ain’t no quitter, sugar.”

The next couple of hours are spent packed into a crimson leather booth that peels at the ends, going from topic to topic over many a pints. Brandon fits so easily into your group, his infectious energy illuminating as he takes up space without regard, his confidence more enticing than suffocating. Everyone seems to be in good spirits as the alcohol keeps flowing and as you sit back, careful eyes watching your friends engage in conversation, you wish for this to be your forever for as long as you'd like for it to be.

A nudge against your shoulder turns your head, greeted by Connor’s sage eyes. “You ready for Judy’s Line Dance?”

His rhetorical question draws a laugh from you. “You say that like I don’t do this every time I come back.”

“Yeah, but if you were ready then, you would’ve brought your cowboy hat,” comments Connor, his veiny hands grasping gently at the ends of your braided pigtails accented with a bow. “What? Wanted to show off your pretty bows?”

He thumbs the ends of your hair, engrossed in the strands and its feel and for some reason, the casual intimacy of the moment inflates something in your chest, a balloon about to burst as you forcibly breathe in and out, clearing your throat afterwards. “They're my favourite accessories.”

Connor huffs, corners of his lips lifting gingerly as he continues his motions with his hands whilst your body remains rigid with the exception of your racing heart and crimsoning cheeks.

Your mother has definitely planted a seed you cannot unroot.

“Yeah, you’re almost always wearing them in your BeReal. posts. They’re real cute.”

For a fact you know so well, Connor’s confession comes as a pleasant surprise, one that shallows your breaths and quickens your pulse. It makes you reflect back on before, when all was platonic and the comment wouldn’t have made you bat an eyelash. Now, your skin tingles and you’re struggling to find the words to encapsulate your affection past your dry mouth. So, like many others in your position, you settle for a safe reply.

“Aren’t you a charmer?” you roll your eyes, brushing off his grasp because you might combat otherwise, projecting your attention ahead of you to come face-to-face with Brandon, who despite the engaging conversation he shares with Owen, his eyes skirt over to you.

You look away, even more flustered than before.

It’s just your luck when you hear Judy’s tap incessantly against an old microphone that you have something else to hold your focus, eyes brimming with glee as she announces the dances for the night and their updated partner songs. Last time you were here, they were still playing their beloved country hits and you danced along thanks to the amounts of alcohol you consumed, but their new playlist of pop hits within the past decade or so, you’re more motivated than ever to tear apart the dance floor.

“If you ain’t shy to do a little two step, please make your way to the dancefloor please.” Judy grins into her mic, tipping her cowboy hat as patrons make their way over to the illuminated space.

Connor makes way for you to exit the booth, your boots hitting the ground as you iron out any kinks in your outfit. Amidst your actions, you catch other movements out of the corner of your eyes, to which you find Connor playing with the ends of your bow this time round. There’s always been something so sweet and tender about him - in the way clouds are amongst a blue sky, in the way laughter spills over so easily in the presence of a found family and in how harmonies make you feel as if you're floating. But, it’s never been like this before, this intense and vivd. In a way that rids you of all thought and scares you beyond your deepest fears all at once. You’re still finding your footing in this new territory, a plain that speaks to the existence of your feelings but has no road nor destination. It’s a simple plain you seek to find some end to, picking up clues along the way that predetermine what the future holds. At the beginning, the animosity scared you pale and grey. Now, the end is what grasps your fear in a fierce chokehold. To pry yourself from the jaws of unhinged anxiety, you allow yourself to relax, to seep into the present and take it for what it's worth because the end is unknown and you’re not there yet. Not by any measure of time, you hope.

“Kick butt out there, rockstar.” His big smile deepens the soft lines of his face, a pure display of pride in his features as he gives you a pat on the back and gives way for you to shine.

It’s small, insignificant in the grand scale of things, but your smile deepens too and you nearly float to the dancefloor, adrenaline rushing through your body as the DJ prepares the upcoming music.

As you settle in line, you feel a light pressure lay upon the crown of your head, eyes darting to find Charlotte in the line next to you, giving you a wink before she faces forwards, thumbs slotted through the loops of her flare jeans. Her straw cowboy hat no longer, you reach up to find said object upon your head and with a chuckle behind your hand, your thumbs hang on your belt loops and let the music guide you.

It’s only when you’ve done your first turn that you realise that Brandon has also decided to join the line dance, huffs of amusement sounding from you as he glides and slides with a confidence dusted with his normal dash of comedy.

When Judy announces it's time for the partner dance, it’s your cue to catch your breath as you plan to evacuate the dancefloor. As mentioned earlier by Charlotte, the pretty sandy brown haired man who’d bought her a drink earlier in the night circles his arms around her waist as she gives him a smitten grin. You beam at the endearing sight, about to make your way towards your booth but are stopped in your tracks as a calloused hand clasps around your wrist.

Brandon’s expression is more sheepish than you’ve ever seen, his eyes distracted as they wander away from you. You raise an eyebrow.

“Who says the night has to end here, sugar?” His voice trembles partially, its edge lost in the coyness lining his smile as he finally looks at you with a dazzle of hope in his eyes.

A momentary pause delays your response, the moment used to turn the cogs in your head and sneak a glance back at your booth, where Connor was last you saw him, eyes trained on you as he simply watches the interaction. Under the weight of his gaze, a creeping sense of embarrassment climbs up your back, scolding the skin. You’re about to give your reply when the music starts up and Brandon speaks again.

“Put this desperado out of his misery and allow me this one dance?”

It’s so cheesy, maybe even idiotic - the words he proposes to you but he’s trying and that’s what appeals to you most, warms your heart and sways your response as you send him a nod that has Brandon cheesing ear to ear, his hand leading the way as you two fall in line.

You haven’t had much experience line dancing with a partner, the closest experience to this being a night you barely remember, happily back sliding with a fifty year old local in your college town bar who wanted to feel young again. Regardless of the fact, there’s no time to mull it over as the music already starts and your fingers are interlocking, matching up with the rest of the duos as you dance, cowboy boots stomping as you make a scene.

In all the commotion of heavy stops and ongoing thumps of Rihanna’s ‘S&M’, Brandon manages to catch your attention, mirroring your movements to a tee.

“You and Connor don’t do this much, do you?” he queries.

“You kidding me? Connie has two left feet, I’d be left for dead if it wasn’t for Charlotte.” You yell over the blaring upbeat country music, arms extended as Brandon glides you further away from his figure.

“Good thing I’m here tonight.” jesters Brandon, and you laugh along because you’re tipsy and having a lot more fun than you imagined.

Despite your familiarity with the dance routine you two execute to a tee, you’re caught off guard when Brandon brings you inwards, bracing you against his hard chest before his arm circles around the circumference of your lower back, holding you steady as he dips your body slightly. Your foot is kicked out, your (Charlotte’s) straw hat’s fallen to the scuffed dancefloor and you’ve just had the wind knocked straight out of you, eyes feverishly searching for answers as the bar falls to a hush.

You’re looking in each other’s eyes now, chest heaving and high off the adrenaline pumping through your veins from all that dancing. All time ceases to exist and it’s just two of you, sharing laboured breaths and looking for any cues for how this will end. It appears as if you’re in your own head at this point, combing through a thousand possibilities all at once to respond however you see fit. Thankfully for you, Brandon breaks the silence.

“One night and one night only.”

The sentence sends shivers down your spine and you’re pretty sure Brandon feels you quiver in his arms as he gives a brief chuckle, hauling you up onto your two feet and bringing you back to reality. You don’t really find their footing after that.

The rest of your time at Punch & Judy’s passes by in a flash, more pints being consumed over your group’s loud chatter as the night stretches on. Charlotte and her blue eyed companion indulge in another dance before he’s whisking her back to the bar and paying for everyone’s next set of drinks - bless his heart. He introduces himself as Jack, a new face in town and as he and the boys exchange pleasantries, the wild eyed non-verbal dialogue you engage in pieces together Charlotte’s sentiment and if it isn’t enough, when Jack makes his departure, she gives him a kiss on the cheek and bides him a coy farewell, a promise to meet in the next coming days on her tongue. One thing is certain, when Jack makes his exit from the bar, the door shutting behind him, you’re yelling and shaking each other’s shoulders in glee, stupidly happy and sharing that with one another.

Your table has their last drinks and before you know it, you’re being squeezed into the back of Owen’s pickup truck, sandwiched between Charlotte and Connor whilst Owen and Brandon sit up front. Over the murmured sounds of slow alternative music, you get bits and pieces of their conversation, the two excitedly talking about their shared love for Legos and the most they’ve splurged on one set. You shake your head with a laugh, going to share your merriment with Charlotte, only to find her soundly asleep, a light snore bypassing her punch pink lips.

“How you holdin’ up, champ?” Connor’s low voice draws you in, a slight head turn in his direction. “Don’t think I’ve seen you dance like that since we were ten and begging our parents to have a sleepover.”

The image is so vivid in your brain, two wide eyed kids that held hands as they begged and pleaded to have a sleepover, only for their polite request to be refused. Taking matters into your own hands, you dragged your parents’ big hands into the living room, where in front of them and an oblivious Connor, turned on MTV and danced to some popular song of the time. Lucky for you, it worked. Unluckily, Connor would hold that over your head forever onwards.

You’re cringing into your hand, face mangled in discomfort as you wish away the reality of you doing that away. “One of us had to convince them. Plus, it worked, didn’t it?”

“I can’t argue with that,” Connor laughs behind a fist before his hand falls to his side, a moment of quiet between you two. “You and Brandon seem to be hitting it off.”

A single eyebrow raises to express your confusion, perplexed frown prominent not because of his statement which is completely true, but because there’s an edge to his voice - something unfamiliar and cold in the way he says his words - a tone you’ve yet to hear, even after all these years. Uncertain how to proceed, you choose to be cautious about the matter, selecting your words carefully.

“He’s nice,” you state, because Brandon is but something in you twists uncomfortably, feels the recognizable pangs of embarrassment as you’re subjected to uttering this out loud. Or rather, in front of Connor. A betrayal of some sorts. “You were right about him fitting right in with us.”

There’s a strange shift in the air in the backseat of the car, the once peaceful quiet now becoming increasingly heavy and awkward as your words hang in the air like knives. Connor absorbs your words, stare averted as he watches his fingers fiddle with the lock of the door on the windowsill. You run your palms against the material of your denim shorts because you don’t know what to do with them otherwise.

It’s only when you’ve scratched the back of your neck, eyes stiffly roaming the interior of the car that Connor replies. “Yeah..I guess I just didn’t know how well.”

You’re about to ask him what he means by that, going to press him but Owen’s suddenly shut off the truck, his blinding interior lights turning on and him killing the ignition, alerting you of your arrival. Connor climbs out before your vision reverts back to normal, so you put the matter on pause and softly wake up Charlotte who sheepishly wipes away dried drool at the corner of her lips and climbs out the pick-up with you. You’re about to shut the door behind you, though someone beats you to it.

“I got it.” Brandon’s husky voice sounds from behind you, the slam of the door following.

You send an appreciative smile his way, perhaps a bit of timidity mixed in there too, turning to include Charlotte in any possible conversation to come, only to find her halfway up the porch stairs of Connor’s house.

How is it always the two of you left alone?

“Let’s head in, it’s chilly out here.” suggests Brandon, you falling in line with his request as the beginnings of goosebump dot your arms, the roughness of your skin hitting an all time high as Brandon’s large hand falls to the small of your back, guiding you up the stairs into the cosy and quaint house.

Hums of conversation lead from the back porch of Connor’s house, the presence of your friends known as you wordlessly navigate your way through the halls of Connor’s house, hallways and framed pictures you’ve committed to memory. When you’ve made your way to the kitchen, you find Owen nursing a cool bottled water, hair tousled and cheeks dusted in pink.

“There you two are,” announces Owen, fingers threading through the waves of his brown hair. “Everyone’s out back - apparently, Quinn’s out back too.”

You waste no time beelining for the backyard, the sudden weight of your reality dawning on you the second you stepped through Connor’s doorway, a cold shower of water easing you out of the mirage you’ve impulsively floated in. Once you’re outside, the cool air sinking into your skin, you spying the usual suspects - Quinn, Charlotte and Connor gathered together around a fire Quinn boasts about making. His glee is short lived.

“That boy scouts training finally coming in handy, huh?” Charlotte banters, a suppressed smirk sneaking amongst her features as she takes a seat in one of the camping chairs surrounding the fire.

“You laugh now but when you need someone to tie an impossible knot and survive off the land, don’t come running to me.” responds Quinn, taking a swig of his beer as Charlotte holds her hands up in surrender, laughing regardless.

You’re about to turn on your heels to head back inside, retrieving a beverage of your own, but a familiar call of your name is stopping you in your tracks.

“I’ve got your cider here,” alerts Connor, expression indifferent as he approaches you to hand off a can of your favourite berry cider and a bottle of water. “Blankets are on the chairs too.”

It’s embarrassing how much you want to melt into this man’s arms right now. Nonetheless, for reasons you know all too well, you express your gratitude in a toothy grin that he mirrors with a closed mouth, pulling you down into the camping chair beside his.

Soon enough, Brandon and Owen are sitting round the fire too and your night ends like this, light-hearted discussions under the stars as the heat from the open flame soothes your heavy eyelids closed. Whilst you’re mildly awake, you don’t miss the glances you and Bradon trade over the sandstone fire, loaded questions in his eyes. Had this been any other occasion, any other person not linked to Connor, any other reality where your current feelings didn’t exist for Connor, then there would be no questions asked, blossoms of wine doting both your necks come tomorrow morning. Alias, these were not the conditions and simply lounged in your camping chair, hoping Brandon didn’t look your way every time Connor’s hand would play with the bows in your hair.

Arm hanging out of his shiny porcelain white pick-up truck, Brandon squints as the rays from the blistering sun reflect into his eyes. Having said their goodbyes earlier, Connor and Brandon dab each other up with good-natured smiles before Brandon throws his focus over to you, standing with a bit more awkwardness than you’d like.

“Take care, Lady in bows,” Brandon says, a well-mannered nod sent your way with a closed mouth smile. “Don’t give Dewey a hard time. He’ll come round.”

For a split second, you’re eyeing him as if his face contains all the answers, but when he gives you that knowing look, the same one Charlotte and your mother give you any time Connor’s name is mentioned - you know. Know all too well and blush as a result, head snapping behind you to see if Connor’s within earshot. Thankfully, he’s in the middle of chatting with his brother, hands in his pocket as Quinn points off into the distance. You circle back to Brandon, the apples of his cheeks clear as day as he snickers like he’s been told a secret.

It’s as if this best kept secret brings you infinitely closer, your walls falling as you begin to bare the depth of your sentiment surrounding Connor. There’s no more beating around the bush, so you lower your head as you kick at the rocks at your feet. “You think so?”

You hate how small your voice comes out, meek and questioning everything known to man. It’s unfamiliar and not to mention, uncomfortable in every aspect of the word. Alias, Brandon sees you - catches the vulnerability you’ve shared with him and embraces you with a kindness that ushers a relieved sigh from you as he responds back.

“I’d bet my NASA Space Shuttle lego set on it.” Brandon banters, smirk soft and small.

So, he’s serious. Very serious, it seems because you know how treasured the item is to him. You exhale a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.

“Thanks, Brandon,” you breath, coyness coating your cheeks as your hands fall behind your back, your fingers tangling. “Don’t go fighting no alligators.”

“We can only hope,” Brandon gives his side-door a smack, rounding up everyone’s attention. “I’m hitting the road, fellas. Enjoy the fair for me, yeah?”

A chorus of agreements go off from behind you before Brandon gives one more salute, speeding off into the canary yellow sun. The small crowd outside Connor’s house disperses and regroups again later on that day, refreshed and ready to attend the local fair held every summer and the highlight of the year.

The fair lives up to its expectations, grand and joyful with a variety of rides ranging from teacups to a catapult-like ride that swings back and forth and then upside down. You’re distracted by all the colours, the sights and sounds that you’re so oblivious to what goes on right before you, until your vision is shrouded in black and your face is submerged in fluff.

Retracting, you blink your eyes to adjust to the change in lighting, lips parting as you stare at the massive latte-coloured teddy bear that Connor presents to you, the rest of your friends nearby taking their turns at the darts board way ahead of them.

He must see you struggle to find the words, his grin infectious as he jests, “I think I’ve finally out-conned the concessionaires.”

You must look like an idiot, or a deer in the headlights as Charlotte jokes, disbelief strikingly apparent on your face as you reach for the souvenirs, the fluffy animal so cosy in your arms and melting your heart into a big puddle of goo. “Thank you, Con.”

“Don’t mention it.” a smile plays tenderly on his lips, the sheer kindness he captures in his sage eyes enough to make your pulse race and head spin.

After the thoughtful gesture, your high spirits cannot be tamed as you indulge in every little thing your heart desires - laughing a little harder, smiling a little wider and stuffing your cheeks full of hearty food that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Charlotte basks in your glee, speaking of a glow you radiate as she snaps photos of your stuffed cheeks, a knowing smirk on her lips as she hands you your teddy bear once your food is finished. You don’t reply, exchanging words through your glances as you make your way towards the second bit of rides the boys want to try.

“Wait, isn’t that…?”

As Quinn’s voice trails off into the distance, you find yourself turning in the exact direction where he directs your view, eyes landing on a pair of figures - one being Connor and the other being, Amelia, Connor’s ex-girlfriend from high school and most notably, his last girlfriend. Her waves of blond hair glisten in the sunshine, something like a Renaissance painting. Her smile bright and wide as she greets Connor with an enthusiastic hug, a hug you feel lasts longer than necessary.

They then go on to immerse themselves in conversation, and for the life of you, you can’t look away - pry your jealous eyes away nor dry swallow this bitter pill because she’s still so into him. Hands familiar and all over him, leaning in when she gets the chance and beaming like she’s won the lottery. In all fairness, her life’s been such a tale - excelling academically, incredibly driven in all sports and other extracurricular activities that garnered her attention. And such a kind spirit too, always there to help no questions asked that it made you physically sick that you could foster any ill feelings towards her, because she’s such a light and maybe Connor would see that too. As he did when they were together.

You’re too busy losing yourself in a sea of self pity that you don’t notice Charlotte's attempts to snag your attention nor other things at first, your illegitimate fears getting the best of you but as your posture stoops, your eyes floating everywhere around the busy fair that it pauses on Connor’s figure. Once immersed in conversation, he appears distracted, indifferent somehow as his attention wanders, wanders over to you as his line of sight floats over to you from time to time as the conversation stretches on. At first, you think it’s your mind playing tricks on you, feeding into delusions that’ll soothe your pity party, but at some point, he holds your gaze, giving Amelia a pat on the back before he’s jogging over to where your friendship group is, not even uttering a word as he slots himself between you and Owen.

“What was that about?” Quinn just has to ask.

“Oh, Amelia just wanted to catch up,” he sounds distracted, his mind elsewhere but you don’t dare to indulge, your sight directed elsewhere as you grip onto the plush teddy bear as if it were a lifeline. “She says hi, by the way.”

You don’t do much listening after that, tuning out all the colours and sounds of the fair as you ride the highs and lows of what your life has become.

A sense of urgency plagues you from that day forth, a hurriedness in your actions as your anxieties get the better of you, going from lounging around in day old pyjamas covered in crumbs and mystery stains to getting a head start on your master’s personal statement and running every errand you’ve been procrastinating. Your parents swear you’ve become a different person - venturing outside the house before noon to visit the bank to change your address or go get your car serviced. Perhaps seeing Connor with Amelia was the jump start you needed to stop relishing in instant gratification, distracting yourself from facing any sort of music that pertained to the future and all its question marks. You still hang out with the others, more so Charlotte as you spend a few afternoons at the lake with one another, feet dangling into the water as she updates you on her adventures with Jack.

It’s the first time someone’s pursued her with such sincerity and charm that she’s hesitant about his authenticity. And yet from the sounds of it, Jack doesn’t mind one bit and shows his patience as they get to know each other, the smitten man taking your best friend on dates that further solidify their connection. You couldn’t be any happier for your best friend, this kind of treatment a long time coming, all of which you express just to see her blush and dive into the cold lake water to avoid further talks. You chase after her, teasing her mercilessly as the thoughts still linger at the back of your mind - your own sentiment with regards to Connor and what has come from the change of heart.

Emotional anguish and so much fear you’re not sure what to do with yourself. It takes a week of mulling things over, his missing presence due to off-season hockey training for you to make up your mind, peeling into his driveway and hiding your apprehension behind a strained smile as he greets you at the door. You preoccupy every bit of silence with running chatter, because you don’t want to hear yourself think, a multitude of topics discussed over vodka pasta you make together before you’re finding your way into his bedroom, the early evening sky greeting you as he flicks on his buttermilk bedside lamp.

He brings out his guitar, the same one you gifted Connor two years ago at the height of his newly-found hobby and plucks the strings, creating a melody you compel yourself to relax into, somehow ending up sandwiched in between him and the guitar as he directs your fingers to play one of your favourite songs, just because.

Apparently, your shaky hands don’t make for good playing material.

“You’re shaking like a leaf, you cold or something?” notes Connor, his looming presence over your body sending you into overdrive, your skin feverish and mind imploding from overwork.

“This is different.” you annouce, because it is. Unlike times before, it didn’t mean as much to be alone in his bedroom with him, getting glimpses into the life he’s lived and who he is as a person through all his possessions. You could handle the casual intimacy - the soft spoken whispers, the unprovoked kindness, the skin to skin contact that didn’t send your heart into a series of flutters. Now, all you can do is bat an eyelash, many at that, and this you must make known. For the selfish reasons you can think of.

“What d’ya mean?” he mumbles, clearly distracted and known the wiser to his breath fanning over your neck, goosebumps rising against your skin as your body grows rigid against his.

So acutely aware of your proximity, of the bursting feelings that thud at the confinement of your chest, your thoughts scatter like glass. “This, Connor. Being like this…with you.”

That strikes a chord with Connor, his motions ceasing altogether as his hands drop from the guitar and you’re forced to face the music. Sink your teeth into this undeniable truth that’s followed you all these years and you’ve been too blind to see. Confront the holy truth that maybe there was more divine work intertwined in your story with Connor, that maybe the universe wrote you two as one heart as opposed to two. That, as the summer days ticked by, the sun seeping into your skin, your love grew for Connor like molasse - slow and thick and palpable that once you were aware of its existence, that’s all that consumed you. Coated in his syrupy love, an endless desire.

You’re facing your best friend in spite of the hellish screams in your mind to play this off as some random mood swing, a joke even, because laughter follows you two everywhere, right? But, you know. Know better than anybody else that Connor knows you, like the back of his hand. Sees right through any charade you may jester him with, so any attempts to divert the conversation are as pointless as anything. Your confession starts and ends here.

A flicker of concern mixes in the dark of his eyes, hands clasped together with a crease in between his eyebrows. “I don’t follow.”

A full body sigh draws out of you, shoulders sagging and back curving, your hands casting aside the acoustic guitar with caution. You’re back to staring at each other, in the silence of the night, caged in between four walls that burn your eyes white as you once again grapple with your innumerable feelings and the finality of it all - this longing.

“Don’t you think,” you croak, question in your eyes as you look up at Connor, stifling any rise in emotion within you. “-this summer has been different?”

His sage eyes cast away, pink lips settling into a pout as he racks his brain for whatever answer you may be looking for. “No? Maybe? I don’t know.”

He adds on, looking back at you as he leans closer without fault. “Is this because it’s your last summer before you graduate?”

Connor’s got a point. When you’re trying to kid yourself into not having romantic feelings for your childhood best friend, your mind wanders to places where it has more control. Plans for after college, what modules you’ll be taking, what societies you want to join, what last things you’d like to cross off your list before you’re forced into full fledged adulthood. It’s a thought that lingers ever so presently at the back of your mind, like background music stuck on loop, but ultimately, Connor has missed his mark and you tell him so.

“Partially, but,” you wet your lips, struggling to find the words again as the burn against your cheeks proves to be insufferable. “This is what’s been on my mind more than anything else.”

Your point is accentuated by your single finger gesturing between the two of you, a poor attempt at best to foster some sort of confession of your romantic feelings. Because it's so scary, lending these thoughts your voice because they become much more real, spoken aloud for his ears to hear and his heart to see. For his heart to feel and what then? What awaits you once your confession reaches his ears? The unknown is scary, chilling to the bone and you wish to shroud yourself from it as long as there’s daylight.

There’s a beat before you hear Connor’s voice again. “What about us?”

Hearing him vocalise those three words makes the moment so real, so vividly intense that it sends chills down your spine and slows your laboured breath, the thump of your heart all you can hear aside from the ticking clock against Connor’s bedside table. It ticks and ticks, signifying the curtain call to your summer long charade.

“Connor, I..” It’s as if the magnitude of your feelings have manifested into some beast, with razor-like fangs and sharp claws that slash at the confinements of your chest, the words of love dying on the tip of your tongue as the moments hangs over your head like a gauntlet. You’ve never been so scared before, driven nearly to tears as your desperate hands grip at the material of your hoodie to ground yourself in some sort of way whilst you try to push yourself. To see this through until the very end and leave the destination unknown.

“We’ve been friends our entire lives. I don’t know anything beyond being with you and I never wanted to, and I feel like that means so much more than it did years ago,” his eyes are on you, undivided attention served on a silver platter that you turn away from, for its sincerity and shine. “Maybe, I did know deep down inside what I know now all those years ago. Like when I cried and begged for you not to leave the Pas. Or when you held my hand any chance you got when we were kids, or anytime you smiled at me really that let me know I always liked you. Maybe, even love you - I don’t know. But, what I do know is that I just couldn’t leave for Calgary without letting you know. Even if that means…”

You don’t have the heart to utter your next words, a dagger to the heart at even the possibility of losing your best friend and partner in crime. Perhaps, it isn’t worth saying - this whole grand love confession because this is a risk you’re not ready to face. However, despite your thundering heart against your bruised chest and however many times you’re second guessing yourself here, the weight lifted from your words is undeniable. An unspoken truth that had been set free, that needed to be set free - whatever the fallout may be.

A snicker snaps you out of your deep seated fears, your scattered daze settling on the view before you, one you had least expected. Connor, eyes cast away from yours as he huffs into his hands, a laugh you’re undecided where it derives from.

“…Are you laughing at me right now?” You feel awful for even asking such a ridiculous question. At the same time, you’ve just been as vulnerable as you’ve ever been in your entire life - some hesitancy is to be expected.

At your question, Connor’s huffs of delight cease and stares at you at alarm, realising his mistake. “God, no. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I just-”

“You used to rub dirt on me, and now you're proclaiming your love for me,” an airy laugh puffs out of his moving chest, a mixture of disbelief and amusement painted amongst his chiselled features. “It’s a bit of an adjustment.”

He seems…happy? Relieved? You’re not really sure, but what you at least find peace in is that there’s no sunken look about him, no expression worn that conveys disappointment and hurt because that’s all you’d have to see to know where his heart lies.

“Good or bad?” you ask.

His eyes bounce back to yours, those same olive eyes you’ve spent years looking into, glimmer with a sparkle that you’ve yet to see and robs you of rational thinking as your heartbeat picks up the pace.

“Good,” he whispers, like it’s a secret for just the two of you - one that is small and fragile, but so special and cherished that it makes your heart squeeze. “Because, there’s no one else I’d rather be with. Not by a long shot.”

You swear you could cry, burst like a dam and drown in your tears that overflow with such joy and relief because this is it for you. So right and settled, being where you’ve always meant to be - so loved and treasured by the one person who knows you better than yourself, someone who’s seen you at your most awkward and at your worst, and loves you because he has. Because he’s seen it all and wants to spend the remainder of his life doing so, a conscious choice he makes everyday because he loves you and you love him.

You’re unsure how you’ve ended up like this, limbs curled up in your lover’s lap as he cups your cheeks, rough thumb caressing the skin as his love shines through his gaze that blows his iris’ out of view. He looks so beautiful like this, unabashed and vulnerable, secure in love and what destiny holds for you. He looks at you as if you colour his skies and spin his world round and just like that, you lose yourself in him. Thread your fingers through his strands of umber brown and kiss him like you mean it. Kiss him long and hard, and with everything you have because it’s long overdue, so needed that you melt into him, lips overlapping as you taste destiny on his tongue.

The story of you and him, a tale as old as time.

#connor dewar x reader #connor dewar #connor dewar fic #cd24 #minnesota wild #toronto maple leafs #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #connor dewar fluff #dewey 2 #brandon duhaime #dewey 1 #dewey #residenthughes

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gretavanlace · 1 month

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Sugar II (part 9)

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, angst, language, the tiniest amount of alcohol consumption, digital penetration, masturbation, oral sex (fem rec), anal play, unprotected sex, etc

Okay, sweet peas, we’ve got one more chapter to go (maaaaybe two idk), but all your favorites will be back! Plus an epilogue. Thank you so much for sticking with me after I did sugar jake so dirty the first time around ❤️

The air is lush and fragrant with herbs, sizzling eggs, and Jake when you wake - though his side of the bed has already cooled.

He’s all around you. Clothes and scuffed boots tossed about the room. Guitar case propped open sans Gibson - where has she gone? The scent of his skin clinging to yours. The gentle bustle of him milling around in the kitchen. You roll over and shamelessly bury your face in the pillow he rested his pretty head upon last night. Drawing him in with a shiver of content…he is home and you are basking in the comfort that is the great return.

He’s humming something to himself, and though you can barely hear - and you certainly can’t place the song - you try to hum along, laughing quietly to yourself when it comes out sounding muddled and strange as you search for a melody you don’t know.

It doesn’t matter. If he’s humming, you want to hum along. You’d like to walk beside him always, twisted and tangled together like a silken braid of devotion.

Seduced by his silly siren’s song, your feet hit the floor as you search for something to throw on. You settle on the black blazer he’s tossed over the back of a chair and pad down the hallway. Lulled and lured by his quiet chaos.

You find him, back to the doorway, gingerly shaking a pan with one hand and tossing what looks to be diced veggies with the other, totally at ease and at home. A gorgeous, disheveled chef complete with yesterday’s sweats, t shirt that’s torn at the neck, and tangled hair.

Should you stand and watch him awhile? It sounds tempting…to watch him work, a sneaky, head over heels fly on the wall. The way he moves, every shift of muscle is intoxicating. Yes, you are bewitched, but even standing here bathed in his presence, you miss him, and that wins out.

”Morning, Jakey,” you smile, breaking his concentration.

”There’s my sugar,” he tosses you a look over his shoulder that stops your heart. “I’m making you breakfast, my love. Would you like coffee or tea?”

Bare feet dancing over chilled tile, you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your cheek between his shoulder blades, “Whatever you’re having.”

He backs up a little, no doubt worrying about your arms - though they are protected by his jacket - being too near to the stove, and turns, pulling you closer while walking you backwards towards the island, “How about we share a cup of tea? You hungry?”

Flashes of memories burn through your brain…last night, in the foyer wrapped up together on the floor while he kissed your body and wept. On the couch while you talked about how exactly this all might work. Later, in a bed that wasn’t yours, in sheets you wouldn’t wash.

You should be thoroughly sated, but yes…you are hungry.

”How’d I get so lucky, little girl?” His lips curve into a grin that derails your thoughts and replaces them with something much softer. Your heart is weak for the look in his eyes…the unapologetic, worshipful love that blazes there. “How did I manage to earn this?”

”Earn what?” You smile back, praying that the emotion pounding in your heart is as evident in your gaze as it is in his, “Us?”

His eyes duck away with a shy nod, “I just never thought I’d have you like this again. In my arms, not going anywhere. Staying.”

Your fingertips are at his cheeks, sweeping over the perfect warmth of his skin, soft as air, “Jake, you didn’t earn anything. You’ve always held my heart.”

Still unwilling to meet your gaze, he rests his forehead on your shoulder. “You took it away.”

”No,” you argue in a hush. Can he really not see? “I left it with you. You’re the only reason it beats, anyway. But if you don’t feed me soon, I fear I may perish.”

”Drama queen.” He grins, pecking your cheeks each in turn, grateful that you’ve eased his mind and calmed his tender nerves.

The kettle begins to scream and you patter off to the table tucked into the corner, homey and quaint, to watch him work to take care of you. Soon, you’re gifted a steaming mug along with another kiss dropped atop your head. “Splash of rum and a sprinkle of cinnamon, sugar. It’s 9 o’clock in the morning, you lush.”

”Trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me, Jake?” You tease back, watching as he moves to finish things up at the stove, throat seizing with aching affection…he remembers how you take your tea.

”I don’t have to get you inebriated for that,” he sounds gravelly and full of himself, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. “I could fuck you however and wherever I so felt the inclination, my lovely little doll, and you would grace me with your gracious and enthusiastic appreciation.”

You bat your lashes wildly at him as he presents two plates heaped with brightly colored, expertly sautéed vegetables and fluffy, scrambled eggs like cheery, sunny clouds. A bowl of swollen, fuschia raspberries deposited between your plates like a pile of sweetened jewels steals the show. “Oh, be still my heart…you know how I enjoy it when you speak like a dictionary.”

”I know, sugar,” there’s that beaming smile of his again as he offers you a berry, lightly teasing it at your lips until you open up for him. “plenty more where that came from.”

A comfortable quiet sparks to life as you both dig in and pass the teacup back and forth. He finally breaks it, speaking up around a bite of potatoes and peppers. “I spoke to Josh this morning.”

”And how is your missing piece?” You quirk an eyebrow over the top of the cup you have now commandeered.

He leans back in his chair and settles his gaze upon you, clocking your expression closely, searching for a reaction. “Obnoxious as ever. He’s annoyed with me because I haven’t looked over the lyric revisions he sent me, and I certainly couldn’t care less if I actively tried. However, he’s very excited to see you. Cross though he might be with his dear brother.”

”Hello, Oliver,” you wink, “Let’s have Jacob back, shall we?”

You haven’t forgotten Jake’s tendency for trotting out Mr. Reed when he’s dipping a toe or two into the waters of vulnerability.

“Do you miss him?” He asks quietly, “Do you want things to be the way they were before? Because I can live with that if it means you’ll stay.” He rushes on as if he fears he may lose his nerve. “I want you to be happy, whatever it takes, I just want you to be happy.”

Fork clinking lightly against your plate as your focus zeros in on his lovely face, you lean forward and reach for his hand “Did he tell you he came to see me? After I ran into Danny that day?”

His fingers slip into your waiting palm with a soft squeeze, “He mentioned that he found you and asked you hide away until we’d gone. I’ve never wanted to hurt him as badly as I did then. Not even when we were young and stupid. Not even that night, when he forced me to let you go.”

“He was only trying to protect you, jake.” Your head tilts, watching residual pain flare to life in his eyes. “I’ve done a great many things to hurt you, it’s a wonder he doesn’t hate me for it.”

“He could never hate you, sugar. Don’t say things like that, it would break his heart to hear them.” The conviction in his words is fierce, and that makes sense…they share a life force at times, it seems.

“He did ask me to hide away, yes…” you nod, wrapping your free hand around his knuckles, warming his touch with your own, “But did he tell you anything else about our visit? Did he tell you how easy it was for us? How we caught up and laughed and looked at each other like very old friends that had been lost to each other for too many years?”

His shoulders tense as though he’s bracing for a gentle impact, but on you march, whispering to him in this unfamiliar kitchen that feels fat full of love.

”Did he tell you that it didn’t even hurt, our being in the same room with everything so fucking different? Did he know that all I could do was sit there, falling silently apart and searching for you in his eyes?”

“But you loved him.” Now it’s his turn to search your eyes, but for what you’re not sure. “I don’t want you to have to tamp that out. Not ever. You love so beautifully, sugar. I can share.”

”I did love him,” you nod. “Very much. A long time ago. I love him still. Differently. And not the way I love you. I have never loved anyone the way I love you. You don’t have to share. Not anymore.”

His grip is pulling at you now, tugging you to your feet and into his arms, creaking the worn wood of his chair beneath the weight of you both as he buries his face into your bare chest, hiding his tears in the lapels of his blazer as he weeps into your skin.

“Shh, baby,” you soothe, stroking through his hair, holding onto him as he clings to you as if you might vanish like a sigh.

His face tilts upward, lips brushing over your chin and jaw, licking and tasting you through his tears. “I love you, sugar. Sometimes I feel like all this love I have for you is just going to break me into pieces, like I can’t hold it all inside. There’s no room for it. I’m too small.”

”Jake,” you feel like you could break into pieces right alongside him as he begins tugging his jacket away from your shoulders.

He shakes his head, hushing you silently, “So, I’m going to take all this love and I’m going to give it all to you. And I’m gonna fill our house with it, press it into the walls and let it seep into the floorboards. Every nail and every window is going to feel it. The pipes and hinges. The chimney is going to breathe it into the night when we light fires in the winter. And we’re going to have babies and I’m going to love them just as much, and I can’t wait to watch you love them…”

You feel baptized in his tears and the wet, warm press of his mouth as he tattoos beautiful promises into your flesh. How could you ever have believed that you wanted anything other than this?

“I’m going to exist for you every single day, sugar…” a sob escapes him, though he tries so hard to bite it back, “I already do…I always have.”

“I know, baby…it’s okay,” you’re kissing adoration into his hair, combing your fingers through the tangles, coddling him and cooing the softest endearments, desperate to mollify his soul, fraught to offer him peace. “Please don’t cry, jakey. You know I can’t stand it.”

Hearing his own words lilting off of your tongue, he pauses and gazes up into your eyes like he sees everything he’ll ever need in them, “When I said that to you, I wanted to disappear. I wanted to be…gone. I didn’t want to live in a world where you wore his ring on your finger with tears in your eyes. Will you miss him?”

Should you lie? Perhaps. But wouldn’t he see the untruths lying bare? Wouldn’t that hurt even worse? Your deception?

“Yes,” you nod, petting him as he presses in closer, “he was kind to me, and sweet. He made me laugh. He made me half-way happy enough to pretend. I’ll miss him sometimes…but never enough to look back and regret chasing after you.”

“I’m glad he was kind to you,” he whispers, kissing a drunken, winding path across the tops of your breasts, “you deserve kind. He loved you, I could see that. I didn’t want to, but I could. And maybe I hated that, but I would have hated the alternative so much more. I’m sure he loves you still.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you laugh softly, “he wasn’t very pleased with me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sugar,” he stares up at you with eyes laced heavily in adulation, “you don’t leave a man alone so easily. You linger and overstay your welcome in the worst way. Learn to leave a room, sweetheart.”

He has pulled another laugh out of you, louder and bell like this time…it twists his heart with heated, pulsing adoration.

”Jake,” you pause, waiting for him to give you his honey brown eyes, “You were right when you said none of it matters. This matters.” Your palm finds your heartbeat for a moment, and then his own.

”I know, my love…” tears skate along his lash line like blissful, shimmering quartz, “I know.”

His mouth is at your throat, gentle hand splaying out across your abdomen, holding you down against the cool, polished wood of the table.

Fingers playing at your lips, he breaks a raspberry apart between his fingers before sweeping it over your waiting tongue. “You’re so beautiful, sugar. Aren’t you? Aren’t you my pretty, pretty girl?”

His shirt has landed on the tile, forgotten and worthless to this task at shaking hand.

“Yes,” nails digging into his shoulders to remind him of where you’ve been, of where your touch belongs, you nod fervently beneath his kiss, “I’m your pretty girl, Jakey. I’m your girl.”

Lips beginning a path up your cheek to your temple, he hums euphorically and grasps at your ankles, tugging gingerly until your heels are resting on the table. “Will you show me?” His voice is silken and inquisitive, tongue fluttering over your earlobe to bring chills to life inside you. “Hmm? Will you show me how pretty you are for me?”

”Anything,” you pant, arching away from the table, desperate to be closer to him as he pulls back.

You watch on, body throbbing and screaming for him while he pops a raspberry into his mouth and settles back into his chair, legs spread wide, hands fisted into flexing balls at his knees, “Touch yourself for me, sugar. Rub your sweet little clit, nice and slow, just for me.”

Maybe you’d like to say your body protests, maybe you ought to say that you shy away, maybe if you weren’t so indescribably in love with him you’d do both of those things, but as it stands….

….as it stands, you give him what he’s asked for without thought. There isn’t a breath of hesitation. You simply roll two fingers over your tongue, reach down between your thighs, and begin.

The hushed moan that tumbles off the tip of your tongue tugs a sigh from his lungs that sets you further on fire. He sounds so beautiful, so wholly under a spell that you can’t fathom having the ability to cast over this deity of a man.

“There’s my good girl,” he is so quiet, you’d scarcely hear him were your focus not so completely honed in on jake jake jake, “Does that feel good, little girl? Is my sugar making that pretty pink pussy feel just so nice?”

He is an obscene angel staring you down with snarled hair and wicked sin in his wild eyes.

A trembling sound is all you’re able to manage as your touch dips inside yourself to draw slick back up to your clit.

”Yeah?” he tilts his head, watching you reverently, “It looks like it does. You’re dripping all over the table. I want to lick it up.”

“Please,” your fingers circle faster, but something is missing. He, close though he might be, is missing.

”Please, what?” He sounds as needy and hungry as you feel. “Tell me what you want me to do to you and I’ll do it, baby. Whatever you want…I’ll fucking do it.”

”Your mouth,” your legs spread wider until your hips protest, and then you spread a little wider in offering. “I’d like to have your mouth please, Jakey. Please. lick me, please, please.”

A groan rumbles out of his chest like pained thunder as he wraps his arms around your thighs, tugging you in and burying his mouth exactly where you’ve so politely begged for it. Another anguished sound pushes from his lungs as he drinks down his first mouthful of you.

The tip of his tongue teases over your shivering clit, and then slinks down to dip inside you, and then down farther still to lap against that heavenly little spot where it shouldn’t be.

He hums against you while you whine and yank at his hair, pulling his kiss in closer as your hips lift away from the wood you’re making such a mess of.

“Fuck,” your fingers lace through his hair perhaps just a bit too tightly, but a quiet grunt signals his appreciation, “right there.”

“I know where you like my mouth every now and then, sugar,” his words are hot against you as his thumb slides, warm and thick, inside your cunt “Dirty girl.”

Watching you shy away so endearingly squeezes at his chest. You have always given yourself to him so completely. You have always been his girl. His mouth has known every breathtaking inch of your body in a hundred different lifetimes. His heart has known your heart in a thousand more.

Your fingers search out your clit, neglected and crying out for attention, completing that lovely trifecta as you rock your hips, fucking his face without shame.

He is yours and you will take him.

Your belly is burning, white hot and tight, coiling and churning as your body begins to tremble and flush.

“Gonna cum…” A complete sentence seems an impossible task “I— oh, please, please, please,”

His fingers replace his thumb with a feral growl low in his throat, tucking up in behind your clit as you watch his arm begin to move rhythmically below the table.

”Don’t cum,” you order through whimpers and whines that sound anything but authoritative. How difficult it proves to be to be bossy when his tongue is warm and wet where you shouldn’t adore it so damn much.

”I won’t,” his promise is beautifully muffled. “But I want you to do it. Cum for me, fuck doll…give it up pretty.”

You tighten deliciously around his searching tongue and delving fingers as it crawls through you like sinking into a warm bath that swirls with glittering, lilac goldfish. They kiss your skin soft as monarch wings; strange, swimming beings in the waters that are Jacob. It is lovely, though given the filth that has ushered you into this state, maybe that makes no sense.

He works you carefully until your breathing begins to stutter and gasp uncomfortably, and then there is his striking and stunning face - cheeks blazing with desire - kissing and licking up your body as you squirm languidly.

“Was that good, baby?” His teeth are dragging against the swell of your breast now, igniting a fire within you anew.

Jacob, always so cocksure and confident, sounds famished for your approval. How strange.

You hand it over willingly and honestly, on a silver platter of affection, “So, good, Jakey…I love you so much.”

“You taste like fucking candy everywhere,” his praise is little more than a whispered murmur as he buries into the crook of your neck, “I want you in my mouth and under my fingertips forever, for fucking always.”

The tip of his cock, full and hot like velvet, sweeps across your entrance, teasing inside just a breath before pulling back and then nudging in all over again.

“Put it in,” your fingers are clawing lazily at his hips, silently trying to guide him into action, “Fuck Jake, please baby, just slip it inside and—“

He grinds his hips forward, cutting you off, filling you up, pulsing and slick and hot and…

”My girl,” his words are humid at your throat as he whimpers through a physical shudder. “My sugar, my love. That’s my baby, that’s it…taking it so well. You feel so fucking good.”

His wandering fingers find and sweep over your clit with a glide as sweet as satin, and it has you clenching down around him so wildly his eyes snap shut with a furrowed brow, mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

Buried to the hilt now, those eyes lull open to stare down where your bodies connect. “Looks so pretty stretched around my cock. How’d this little cunt ever get so beautiful?”

Your cheek turns to meet the cool of the oak you're draped across, embarrassed in the most blissful way, but he is positively weak for the way his words cause your thighs to tighten around his waist.

His name begins to burn out of your lungs, smoking into the sun-soaked kitchen like a prayer.

”That’s it,” he sounds faraway, like he’s crooning to you from across the room, “My name, sugar…always my name.”

And then, there is his thumb, soaked in your need and brushing against that spot just below where his cock is dragging in and out of your cunt.

A wanton cry for more bleeds out of you, bringing forth another knit of his brow as he sinks inside you to follow the deep thrust of his cock, “‘Oh my’, right sugar? Isn’t that how my fuck doll reacts? All sweet like a lady, to being filled up so full?”

His loving, mocking tone snatches you back full circle to that very first night with him that seems so long ago…he has been all you’ve ever wanted, ever since. He is all you will ever want.

He is every direction, the night and the day, every song ever written…every poem ever wept onto pages, every star that will light the skyline tonight and all the ones that came before. He is every beat of your pulse, every breath in your lungs - and when you breathe your last, it will be his name on your lips.

White explodes behind your eyes as fireworks detonate down deep inside you, sparkling a crackling-like frenetic energy throughout your nervous system until you are tightened up and writhing with it…cumming so hard, so fucking hard, that you nearly force his beautiful cock right out of your body.

He follows your lead and pulls away, tugging at himself violently as you shower down over him like the filthiest, most exquisite drops of summer-of-love rain.

“Oh fuck, sugar, please,” he’s whining as his release lands hot and frantic against your quivering stomach, but for what, neither of you know.

You’re lost in his faraway expression, watching him fight for a deep breath as you search for your own composure when your fingers sweep through a milky ribbon painted across your navel…you want to taste him, but his grip is wrapped firmly around your wrist in an instant, with your fingers nestled against his cashmere tongue.

“I’ll clean my pretty girl up myself, if she doesn’t mind.” His mouth brushes soothingly at your hip just before he begins licking up his own release, eyes cast upwards to your own as you shake, stunned and blissfully shellshocked.

At last, you find your voice as his bubblegum pink tongue curls over the last drop, “You taste good, don’t you, Jakey?”

“Not as good as you, sugar,” His mouth is on yours now, kissing far too sweetly for what you know him to be capable of. “not even close.”

“Shower?” He pops another raspberry into your mouth and then nuzzles against your nose.

”Bath.” You correct, nearly melting into the table beneath his love.

A sponge, fresh out of its package and now smothered in body wash, drags across your chest as his chest rests against your back.

”We leave tonight?’ Your voice sounds unfamiliar…too content, too relaxed. It’s been such a long time since you’ve sounded this way. Since you’ve been so completely happy.

”I wish we could stay longer,” he kisses at your drenched, now squeaky clean hair, “just you and me.”

”Me too,” you sigh, settling back into his embrace even more, “but I’m also excited to see those idiots you call brothers. Especially the baby.”

”He’s missed you.” More kisses to clutch at your already stolen heart. “Nothing was the same without you, sugar. Time to come home.”

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