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creedslove · 9 months

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HEARTLESS 💔 - PART FIFTEEN

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: the aftermath of Wyatt's birthday party. You and Jack end up hurting each other with your different points of view, but your love is stronger

(This is the fifth chapter of the HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• PART ONE TO FOURTEEN ON MY MASTERLIST

Warnings: angst, two idiots in love, fluff, mom!reader

A/N: besties, I love this chapter very much, I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do. Our cowboy deserves nothing but the best and I know how much you've missed him! I have missed him too! ❤️

5.6k words

You smiled at the pictures and at your son the entire time, a part of you was indeed extremely happy to be there, holding your baby boy who was now growing into a wonderful child, turning four and blowing his candles next to his daddy for the first time in his life. He looked at everyone who gathered around and sang him happy birthday with awe, never seen so many people cheering on him, gifting him presents, not to mention the other presents he got from his daddy before. Wyatt was having the best day of his little life, amongst others best days of his life, ever since his father came into the picture, he made sure to make things memorable for him.

On the other, you were feeling a hint of hurt, perhaps a melancholy even, too many emotions happening all at once: you and Jack making out constantly like horny teenagers, that felt pretty good, giving you a sense of freedom, finally expressing your feelings and your hormones, the things you'd been so desperately trying to hide from the others as well as from yourself, for a long time you carried with shame the love you felt for Jack Daniels, after what he did to you and your son. You never thought it would even be possible to express those feelings you desperately pretended to be non-existent, but again, that cowboy had his own way to make your world upside down and his gentle attitude, loving words, warm eyes and a tight, manly grip around your body had you hostage again, you simply couldn't break free from Jack Daniels, even if you tried to - and you did, for very long - he just had a way to keep you his. It felt bittersweet to know you were free to be with him, now Frankie was out of the picture, which was also partially why you felt upset. It's not a matter of breaking up with him, even if Whiskey wasn't in the picture, you and Frankie would end up splitting up sooner or later; he was just too close to his ex-wife to be over her, your relationship was just a consequence of two lonely people looking for a hook-up online. He was handsome, sweet and a good kisser, but you weren't in love with him, your heart was never open to anyone but the cowboy that both disgraced your life and also added a sense to it. It was only a matter of time until either of you would have to start the unpleasant conversation and get things done with; however, what made you upset was the way the break-up happened. Perhaps it would've been better if it didn't happen in the middle of your son's birthday party and though there wasn't a scene apart from when his daughter bit your son, it still felt odd. You were disappointed in Frankie for finding out he'd been hiding things from you, but just because of that, you didn't think it was appropriate for Jack to throw Frankie's dossier onto his lap as if they were in the middle of an interrogation. You were thankful your cowboy was protective and willing to take the risks to help and protect you, but you knew you would've handled things differently. Still, things were done and they'd remain that way, you were at least thankful you didn't have to handle things like that at all.

But Jack still pressured you and made you uncomfortable, he was already talking about marriage, kids and you weren't there yet. Of course you wanted to spend time with your cowboy, you were willing to make things right for your family, for your son and also for yourself, but you didn't want to get married and let alone have more kids. You didn't trust Jack with getting you pregnant, the trauma and the sadness you went through in a moment that was supposed to be one of the best and happiest of your life was too present, you still had nightmares about it and you were not willing to let it repeat itself, even if your cowboy got on his knees and swore to you he'd never do anything like that, you wouldn't like to figure out by yourself.

You couldn't lie to yourself if you said you hadn't let your mind wander and dared to think of an alternative scenario where you went all the way with Jack: marriage and another kid. Perhaps it could work, you had no way to guess if it would, but you decided to be safe rather than sorry and immediately draw the line. You could tell he'd become upset at your immediate refusal right under the willow tree, he was surprisingly soft when it came to family business and it wouldn't be different when you weren't interested in his future plans. Jack Daniels was a traditional man, he was one to get married and settle down, just like he'd been taught from a young age, like real men were supposed to do. He thought that now that you and him were finally on the same page about becoming a real family and giving it a shot, you would also agree with him. He thought you'd say yes to his proposal even if it wasn't official yet and also his idea to give Wyatt a baby brother or baby sister. However, you'd said no. He couldn't even blame you, no one could; even if you were the most selfish person in the world, - which you weren't, because after all the shit he'd done, he'd committed himself to worship the ground you stepped on - he knew it was understandable and expectable too. But that old broken heart was overflowing with love for you and your son, it just kept the fire of hope alive, so when you'd been nothing but clear when you stated you wouldn't get marry nor have kids, he got upset. Not only that, he felt quite rejected. Perhaps it was a product of the tension he went through with your ex earlier that day, he had hated Frankie since day one, even before finding the dirt on him, he just couldn't have sympathy for anyone who had the woman he loved; if it were up to him, he would've kicked his ass and told him to fuck off, but he couldn't do that in the middle of his son's birthday party, not when toddlers ran around and the adults enjoyed good food and drink. And then that little monster Frankie called a daughter bit his boy and Jack felt angry. He was actually pissed. Yeah, she was a child - a very spoiled, whiny and annoying one - and he knew that often happened, but he'd always hated biters, his little sister was a biter and he learned from a young age to hate this kind. There was also the fact he was actually being able to take part in his son's birthday for the first time and the need of making everything perfect and memorable for Wyatt was a bit nerve wracking, not that he would admit it, but Jack Daniels didn't lose sleep before a mission, but he did lose sleep before a four-year-old party because he wasn't sure if the inflatables and the trampolines were good enough.

At that point, Jack was just tired, too many people around his home, making too much noise and whereas his son was having the time of his life, Whiskey preferred the moments he'd spent with only you and him, where Wyatt played with his pony and you were both quiet and affectionate. However, each time Wyatt's laugh was heard all over the place, the cowboy couldn't hold back his unconscious smile, he never knew how the happiness of a child could make him feel young and good again. Like the bad, rough path in his life had never existed. When he left the willow tree with you and your son, Whiskey was silent, not getting closer, he felt the sting of rejection and even if he knew it wasn't fair and that you had all the right to want different things in life, he still pouted and put his cowboy hat on, following you down the party.

He kept his distance once everyone sang Wyatt happy birthday, he could feel the same tension you did, the way you stood all stiff next to your son, occasionally smiling at everything and everybody but avoiding his gaze, it made his heart clench, he didn't really know what else to do. He didn't want to lose you, but it seemed at times that no matter what he did, if he showered you with love or affection, he still managed to scare you off. He closed his eyes and sighed, another flash by the cameras that photographed the moment he stood next to his family. Normally Jack wouldn't be in so many pictures, but he always made exceptions for you and now your son too. The cowboy was so caught up in his feelings, he only noticed how close you were the moment you wrapped your arms around him, closing the distance between the two of you and Wyatt stood on a chair, to be at your height so you could have a beautiful picture to watch in the future. He looked at you slightly surprised, not expecting a physical touch from you, even if the warmth was so soothing and familiar, he didn't expect to have your body glued tight to his. It was some kind of hypnosis, being away from you for so long, whenever he was able to touch you, it simply didn't feel real at all. He still couldn't ignore how upset he was, but when he looked into your eyes and saw your smile, he went soft. Posing for another picture wanting that moment to be eternalized.

•••

"Cake?" You offered Jack a small plate, joining him at one of the many tables that were set through the backyard. One by one, the guests began taking off after the cake was cut and served, the party naturally coming to an end after hours of fun and adventure for the kids as well as their parents who drank, ate and danced, because if there was something Jack Daniels was good at, it was definitely throwing a ranch party. Wyatt baffled the two of you, still having the energy to bounce from inflatable to inflatable, trampoline from trampoline, so excited he completely forgot about the pile of presents exclusively for him. You were exhausted and you could tell the cowboy was just the same, taking the cake from your hand with a small thank you as he began nibbling at it.

He was upset, you could tell, because his aviators were back on, covering his eyes and even if they weren't uncovered you just knew they wouldn't carry that traditional spark. His shit-eating grin was replaced by his serious expression and you just felt so frustrated with that man. Instead of having your lips on those tempting lips of his, you had to go through that whole awkward situation with him. Why couldn't things be a lot more simple? Why couldn't you just enjoy each other's company, without making things complicated?

He didn't say anything at first, just watching as Wyatt ran from one place to the other, enjoying the toys a lot more now that he didn't actually need to share them with the other kids.

"Why don't you wanna marry me?" Jack broke the silence, not looking directly at you, he looked down instead, eager and also scared to hear your answer.

"Instead of asking me this, why don't you answer my question, Jack?! Why do you wanna marry me so bad?"

You caught that cowboy by surprise, out of all the answers in the world, the ones he could have possibly heard, that was something he didn't expect.

"I-I…" he started but bit his lips, taking his glasses off and looking at you "it doesn't feel real to me that you want to give our family a chance, the feeling I have is that one day you'll wake up and get back to your senses, that you'll remember I'm not good and shouldn't be forgiven, so I fear you will walk away from me. I figured that if we get married, not only would it assure me that wouldn't happen, but we could also pick up from where we left off" that making perfect sense in his mind.

"So you just want to trap me?"

"Sugar, don't look at things that way… I mean yeah, getting married would be a way of making sure you don't regret giving me a chance, but I would also like to continue from where we left off…"

"We will never continue from where we left off, Jack… listen, Wyatt just turned four, which means we're talking about nearly five years in the past; there's been too much between us, a horrible, traumatic, violent, break up. There was a pregnancy, also traumatic, because it was scary, painful, stressful, there was a child birth, countless nights of staying up and taking care of a baby I wasn't even sure how to do so, I'm not holding it against you, but there's no turning back, Jack. You will never be able to make up for this all because it's long gone, and I can see you want to prove yourself, have a chance so you can show me now you can handle taking care of a baby, but I'm not gonna be part of your experiment"

"I just thought we could be a family, a real, big family, I know the three of us are already one, but I wanted to have another baby, I wanted to make you my wife, have you wear a big fancy ring around your beautiful finger and go to bed and wake up every single day for the rest of my life next to you. I'm not saying that what we have now, how we are getting along and finally breaking the barrier that was keeping us apart isn't good, but I wanted more… I wanted to know for a fact one day you won't just wake up and walk away from me, sugar"

And that was exactly the kind of assurance you couldn't offer him. Yes, you were willing to be with Jack, as a couple maybe, as lovers definitely because you simply couldn't get your hands off your cowboy, but were you 100% certain you wanted to have him for the rest of your life? You didn't know.

"It seems like we want different things in life Jack… you pressure me when you talk about this, about the future, when you talk about having babies as if the whole experience with Wyatt hadn't happened"

"And you hurt me when you just discard our future without a second thought, sugar" he looked down, placing the plate on the table and sighing, getting up and taking his leather jacket off, placing it on your shoulder, surprising you at the soft touch, only then realizing you were actually shivering at the cool wind. The cowboy excused himself and walked inside.

•••

Whiskey had got inside his home, pouring himself a glass of the hardest Statesman liquor he could find and got into his bathtub. He let out a loud groan, his sore muscles finally relaxing under the warm water, but unfortunately to him, not all the relaxation in the world could soothe his heart. He wasn't even sure what that all meant. Were you and him still trying? Broken up? He didn't know and he was afraid to ask, perhaps it would be better if he left that question mark hanging for a little while. He sank his head under the water so he could be alone with his thoughts.

You called Wyatt, who finally came running to you. He was panting and his skin was sticky with sweat from how much he played even if the weather wasn't warm anymore. He smiled and gave you a big hug, snuggling you and letting out a yawn, he had never been happier, though he frowned not seeing his daddy. You explained to your son Jack had had an early night because he was tired. All of you were, but you knew Wyatt still needed a warm bath before bed.

Once your son was clean up, warm and tucked in bed, you felt kind of awkward, not sure if you should lie down or go after Jack. Things had escalated to more than tense once you two opened your hearts and though you wanted to make things right, you didn't know how to. Jack was a stubborn man, and if he had that idea in mind, you knew you wouldn't be able to go against it. However, you were also sure you wouldn't be able to simply go to bed when things were so unsolved, you couldn't say yes to his marriage proposal in one night, but you could at least make sure things were alright - or not - between the two of you.

You exited your bedroom and decided to go to Jack's, so eager to knock on his door you barely noticed him walking towards you, apparently he also had issues he had to address. You stopped just inches from bumping against him, but it didn't stop the cowboy to hold you by the hips. He smiled down at you, but it didn't meet the eyes, and you were sure he was still upset.

"Hey sugar, going somewhere in a rush?" He asked curiously at your nod but since you didn't actually reply to his question, he just cleared his throat

"I was wondering if you'd be okay with me taking Wyatt to the Statesman tomorrow morning? I gotta go there to make some payments for the service some employees did at the party and I was thinking that would be a nice opportunity for him to see his daddy's workplace"

He smirked proudly, imagining how excited Wyatt would be while running around the hallways of Statesman, seeing the cool stuff his daddy worked with. He was sure he would enjoy their time together, but the moment he noticed your sad expression, Jack frowned, concerned about you and what could've happened.

"Jack, can I ask you a question? Are you mad at me? About the fact I don't want more babies or a wedding?"

He sighed and bit his lip, carefully choosing his words, he didn't want to offend you in any way, but he wasn't great at hiding how upset that made him

"I'm not mad, it's your choice… but as I said, it made me upset, I had already made plans for us, sugar. It's nice we're getting along, but I expected more, as you already know… Would you ever marry me? Someday?"

"I-I don't know, Jack" you sighed and looked down, ashamed of your honest response, being sure it would hurt that broken heart even more.

He nodded and looked around, taking a step back from you. He thought of kissing your lips goodnight, but he didn't actually see the point in it.

•••

Jack and Wyatt had left earlier in the morning, your little boy was still very sleepy and cuddly as he first got up, climbing your lap and snuggling you, just like he did it as a small baby, though now time was flying and he was growing more and more each day. You had wrapped your arms around him and played with his soft, growing curls, listening to his calm soft breaths as he fell asleep again. You rested your chin on his head and closed your eyes, happy at the small time you had with him, you missed Wyatt terribly for the past two days, as the two of you were so busy with his party you barely spent time together. Jack walked into the living room, looking good in his clothes, aviators on and his hat in hands, going absolutely silent once he realized his son had fallen asleep.

"Do you want me to leave him here so he can sleep some more?" He suggested it, but you quickly dismissed the idea, you knew how excited Wyatt was to go out with his daddy, he just needed a few minutes to catch up on his sleep.

The cowboy joined you on the couch, his big hand stroking his son's soft curls and watching his sleep features in adoration, his son was absolutely gorgeous, he had taken a lot from you, even if he did have a lot of similarities with his daddy, Jack came to the conclusion he was all you. He smiled at that thought and sighed softly, at the same time Wyatt opened his brown eyes and giggled to see his daddy right there. Neither of you addressed the short, frustrating conversation you had in the hallway the night before, instead you both focused on serving Wyatt breakfast and you helped Jack buckle him up in his Bronco so they could have their boys adventure.

And then you were free to do whatever you wanted. It was definitely a rare moment of your post pregnancy life where you could actually do anything you wanted without having to worry about your son. Even though being a mother meant you would worry about your kid at all times, you trusted Jack knowing he'd keep your son safe. Helen didn't take long to arrive and assured you she would be supervising the cleaning team Jack hired to clean after the party, you could do that without her help, but she was just so kind to you, you thanked her by assuring the woman she could go home right afterwards, no need to cook any meals as you would take care of it.

While you were oddly free, the first thing you decided to do was take a bath. You figured Jack wouldn't mind lending you his tub; you wouldn't make a mess or snoop around his stuff, you just filled the tub, picked your favorite bath bomb and sank your entire body into the water, sounds of relief coming out of your mouth. You couldn't even remember the last time you were able to take such a relaxing bath, at any time you wanted and spending as long as you'd like. Chances were the last time you actually spent some time like that was even before getting pregnant, probably inside Jack's tub as well. You weren't sure if you just closed your eyes and relaxed or if you'd dozed off, but nearly an hour later, you were drying yourself and getting dressed, feeling so good about herself. Looking out the window, you saw that the tables that had crowded the backyard just a day before had gone, the green fields seemed spotless clean, but the inflatables were still there; of course Jack would pay extra to have them for longer so Wyatt would play.

You turned around and picked your riding boots, it was time you paid your beautiful Silver Pony a visit and took her for a ride.

The walk to the stables was fast, you were so used to going in the same direction you were able to just follow it through muscle memory; there was a time you rode horses almost every day, and that didn't necessarily make you good at it, you were decent at best, Jack always made sure to be around and take care of you, though he used to encourage you to try and do it alone, so you would always go with Silver Pony, she wasn't a racing horse, she never sped up and you just loved going out with her. You loved that horse, and she loved you too.

"Hi girl, I missed you" you said excitedly as soon as you eyed her, the horse showing the same excitement to see you, moving her body and motioning her head towards you, so you'd pet her. You chuckled at how sweet your lovely friend was and got the saddle ready, just like the cowboy had taught you to do and in no time you were riding your beloved horse again. Not without attaching your fruit basket to her saddle, an old habit of picking up fresh fruit straight from the trees.

It was a very beautiful day, sunny and warm, and you only cursed under your breath for forgetting the beautiful hat Jack had gifted you. You smiled at the idea of going horseback riding with your son and your cowboy, it would definitely be a good family date, you decided you'd bring it up later that day.

You saw the fence that indicated the end of Jack's property and since you didn't have schedules or responsibility for the day, you just decided to ride further, as you hadn't been around the neighborhood in so long.

You hadn't taken your phone nor a watch so you had no idea how long you've been riding Silver Pony, you passed by the fruit trees, the neighbors' property and you only realized you'd gone far when you saw the cemetery gate. You swallowed hard, knowing this place without ever being there, you knew how long Jack had spent visiting the grave of his late wife and unborn son. He had the habit of visiting them very often, once a week at least, bringing them flowers and spending some time there, talking to them, as it was the only thing that could give his broken heart some comfort. Then, as the years passed and the pain still lingered there, he continued his ritual, only being able to actually reduce it once he met you, then his visits stopped being weekly, but he still felt the need of seeing them. You respected and understood that, even if it seemed a little too depressing at the time, but then, standing so near and yet so far from their grave, you felt an urge to go and see them. It came out of nowhere, you hadn't even thought of Jack's late family, they hadn't crossed your mind in days, but at that very moment you decided you needed to see her grave. You had never even considered doing so, but you would. Tying Silver Pony to a tree so she could relax under the shadows, you picked some wildflowers you found on the grass, feeling weird to walk inside empty-handed.

You weren't bothered by cemeteries, you didn't see the fuss in visiting them, but you didn't avoid it when you had to, seeing it was a simple place, a lot of green fields and flowers, one could say it was even a beautiful place. You walked around paying attention to the tombstones, wanting to find hers, which didn't take very long. Amongst the other simpler ones, hers stood with fresh flowers and a beautiful but sad sculpture of a cherub angel.

Of course Jack would get his wife nothing but the best. You took a step closer and lowered yourself, placing the wildflowers next to the other ones, a little shy at how simple your last minute tribute was, but you could feel she was a kind-hearted woman and wouldn't mind it at all.

"Gabriella Daniels

Loving mother and wife.

Gone but not forgotten"

The inscriptions on her tombstone were simple but it brought you a pang of sadness, watching how beautiful she was in the picture, she should be around Jack's age by then, and yet, she looked younger than you currently were. You'd been her age, but she would never live up to turn your age. It was sad and tragic, even if the date of her passing was more than two decades, it still felt so brutal to know a love was killed at such young stage, under such a painful way. She should've been able to celebrate anniversaries, give birth, watch her baby grow up next to her husband, and yet, it was all taken away from her. From him. From them.

Poor Gabriella was doomed to become forever young in a broken man's heart and mind, turned into memories and dust, while her young husband was doomed to becoming a lonely, brokenhearted man.

You spotted another plaque smaller, but right next to hers, and it shattered your heart.

"Jack Daniels Junior

An angel sent back to heaven"

Perhaps it was because you were now a mother and you witnessed the intense love a mother felt for her son, or just because you knew Jack Daniels and you witnessed the intense love a grieving father felt for his unborn son. But you let out a small sob, the tears insistently falling from your cheeks, as you watched those two tombstones. It might've been the proximity you had with the story, without even knowing them personally, but you were nonetheless affected by it.

However, it was still a distant tragedy, like the ones you often hear about and felt upset for a while, but then you move on, but standing there, in front of their graves, you could feel how real and intense it truly was. You could only think of Jack and the gruesome pain he felt, how your own chest tightened just at the mere thought of going through something similar, about losing him and your son.

It clicked, it all made sense to why he was so desperate about assurance, about a true indicator that he wouldn't lose you or Wyatt, that happiness wouldn't run away from him, escaping through his fingers like sand. Would it be so bad to actually give him a chance? An assurance? He wasn't the monster you had unconsciously built in your nightmares, yes, there was a part of him that was that monster for a while, when he broke your heart and pushed you away, but he had got back on his tracks. You sighed, shaking your head and trying to make a sense out of your thoughts. It was all so confusing and yet, you were so sure, at the undoubtedly uncertainty of life, at the proof nothing really lasted forever and at the realization that if you had a chance to be happy today, you shouldn't waste it thinking of the future that might have not even come,you felt sure of it, of it all.

You sat on the grass more comfortably and wiped your tears softly

"H-hi… I'm sorry, it's a little weird for me to do that… but I know Jack does it and it helps him. I guess you know me and I know you too, Gabriella. I'm very sorry for what happened to you and your beautiful baby boy, your absence was so painful to Jack but we both know he's strong and well, you and your baby Jack will always have a place in his heart. Our cowboy has done some shitty things, to me, and to our son, but he's found his way back to being his old sweet self… he's still a little corny and clueless, but that's part of his charm right?" You chuckled softly "thank you for being so good to him, but now I'll take care of our cowboy…"

You dried your tears and smiled more at yourself as you felt so light, so peaceful at the end of your… conversation.

You rushed to Silver Pony, caressing her head before hopping on your girl again. She took you home at a slow pace, giving you enough time to stop at the peach tree path, so you could pick some of them and take it home. You would make a peach pie for your cowboy, knowing he loved eating it with some vanilla ice cream just like his grandma had taught him to. Just by knowing how excited he would get, it made you happy and eager to get the sweet treat started. You could tell yourself you were just excited to see Jack's reaction at the fact he would enjoy his favorite childhood recipe, but in fact your heart was tightening to see your cowboy, you needed to see him, touch him, talk to him and enjoy the fact the two of you were there alive and well, healthy and happy, with a beautiful son and a bright future ahead.

Once Silver Pony finally reached the gates to Jack's property, you could see the Bronco parked and Wyatt rushing to you, running as fast as his little legs could take him, you got off the horse and placed the basket down, opening your arms to welcome him, embracing your son into a tight hug. You were so lucky to have your son so alive and well, snuggling Wyatt and letting him giggle and tell you all about the awesome day he spent next to his daddy. You nodded and stroked his curls, letting him speak for as long as he wanted, but eventually, he blushed and looked down in shame

"Mommy we have a pwoblem… daddy bought McDonald's fow lunch and he bought nuggies fow you, but I ate them" he said a little ashamed of eating everything and not letting one single nugget left for you. You bit your lips so you wouldn't burst out laughing at how funny and cute that was. Ruffing your hair, you let your son know it was alright.

Then you picked up your basket and rushed to Jack, who gave you a shy smile, not having enough time to say anything at all, as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

Whiskey didn't expect it, but as soon as your lips touched, he unconsciously glued your bodies together, not resisting you, there, so close to him. His hand gripping you at the same time you could see his confused expression, but you just shrugged.

"The answer is yes"

"What?"

"You know what question I'm talking about, cowboy, the answer is yes" you winked at him and caressed his smooth cheek.

Before Jack could add anything else, you grabbed his hat, placing it on your head and smirked

"Cowboy hat rule, Mr.Daniels"

____

A/N: I really hope you enjoy it besties, you are the whole reason why this cowboy gets so much love 🥺❤️

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runningfrom2am · 8 months

Text

achilles heel - VI: i. cheated. too.

summary:

Grace is the very opposite of her brother in every way. when she finally moves onto campus at UNC Chapel Hill, she feels like she gets to be her own person, make her own friends, and hopefully start a promising career in the museum industry, and maybe, one day, get married to her high school sweetheart and live the American dream for herself. Rafe Cameron however, upon their very first meeting, throws a wrench in her very perfect plan.

tags/warnings:

rafe cameron x fem!oc, rafe is giving very much homewrecker, fanon!rafe (kinda), college!au, friends to lovers, slow-burn (maybe?), minimal oc description, drug and alcohol use, mostly unedited, violence, fighting, (these tags are not exhaustive, lmk if i should add anything!)

wc: 3.2k

my master list

series masterlist

requests (temporarily closed)

February 3rd, 2019

Rafe and Grace didn't lose contact again after that, he wasn't about to let that happen. She did still go to class, but he missed that smile he'd seen on Sunday- that side of her that was so carefree, so happy. He hadn't expected that vandalizing Nate's car would cure her heartbreak, but part of him hoped it would. He discovered that he would do anything to help, and he spent his free time throughout the week either texting her or thinking of what to do the next time they hung out. They didn't have plans, but he couldn't wait. And for once, he was almost completely free on a Saturday, so now is as good a time as any.

R: gracie, any plans today?

He sends the text and goes back to making lunch, trying to ignore how nervous it made him. It wasn't a risky text by any means, what was he scared of? Her saying she's busy? It's not a date, he knows that. It's just friends hanging out to keep her from spiraling back into a pit of depression, he didn't want to let that happen.

G: Just the usual, I'm trying to get some reading done but it's hard to focus

G: how about you?

Rafe's phone buzzes twice on the counter as the messages come in and he quickly grabs it, abandoning his sandwich-making efforts.

R: same

R: I'm thinking about going to the driving range later, want to come?

G: golfing? by yourself?

R: not if you come with me?

G: I don't know how to golf but I promise I'll be a good spectator

R: you'll just make me look like a pro 😎

G: 😐😐

R: i'll pick you up at 2?

G: See you then, Tiger Woods <3

Grace was surprised when Rafe showed up with a truck instead of his bike, but it would make sense if he had to bring his own clubs. The weather was nice that day, there were hardly any clouds in the sky but it was still crisp enough out for Grace to wear a sweater without the intentions of taking it off again until she got home.

By the time they arrived at the driving range, there was a decent amount of people there. With minimal snow and mostly friendly weather, a lot of people golfed year round in North Carolina, and Rafe was no exception.

He jumps out of the truck after parking to grab his clubs, and Grace grabbed her tote bag and slung it over her shoulder before following after him.

"You ever been here before?" Rafe asks, golf bag over his shoulder as they walk up to the entrance.

Grace shakes her head, looking out to the green and all the yard markers scattered over the lawn. "I think Nate came here sometimes. He likes golfing."

"Well, welcome, then." Rafe replies, holding the door for her and ignoring her second comment about her ex.

"Thanks, I'm excited." She smiles in response, passing him to enter but waiting for him to talk to the employee at the counter.

"Welcome in! What can I do for y'all today?" The young girl asks, Grace following her friend up while he places his clubs down and leans against the counter.

"Hey, yeah, can I get two twenty baskets please? And a club for her?" Rafe asks, Grace quickly shaking her head as the employee is already turning to grab the supplies he asked for. "What? You don't want to try?" He turns his attention to Grace now, slightly laughing.

"No, I'm not a golfer." Grace smiles nervously, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her palms.

The girl working pauses, looking between the two of them. "No then?"

"Nah, I'll take 'em. She might change her mind." Rafe insists, winking in Grace's direction before taking the baskets and club, handing it over to Grace.

Rafe paid, and then the girl buzzed open the door out to the driving platform for them to enter. Down at the end there was three open spots in a row, and Rafe lead Grace down all the way to the edge so they weren't surrounded on all sides by other people.

Grace placed down the one basket she carried over for Rafe, and sat down in a chair against the wall, ready to watch.

"C'mon, Gracie, you're not even gonna try?" Rafe chuckles, watching her as he's in the process of pulling out his club.

Grace shakes her head, smiling up at him. "I'm more than content to watch. Thank you, though."

"You'll change your mind- I know you will." He says, a smug grin crossing over his face.

Grace rolls her eyes fondly, then watched as Rafe tee'd up to make his first swing. Grace doesn't know much about golf, but she could see the confidence in Rafe's posture and his subsequent swing, and the way the muscles in his arms flexed and made his veins prominent. The ball flew off onto the green and landed somewhere she didn't see- her eyes were trained on him.

"Good hit!" Grace smiles, clapping for him and crossing her legs.

"Thank you." Rafe turns to her, taking a dramatic bow which makes her laugh. "Alright, your turn." He's already placing another ball on the tee.

"No!" Grace's laugh continues, shaking her head.

"What if I fumbled a few times first?"

"No, then people will definitely be watching." Grace giggles.

"Oh, come on. No one cares. You gotta start somewhere." Rafe pleads.

"Are you just going to bug me until I agree to try?"

"Yes ma'am." He nods in response, leaning on his club now.

"Okay, just one." Grace relents, standing up and placing her bag on the ground.

"That's what I like to hear!" Rafe grins, taking a step back as she grabs her driver, smaller than his so she can actually reach the ball from a decent distance. "Just, uh, try not to out-do me, that would be kind of a hit to my ego."

"Ha, ha, Rafe." Grace replies sarcastically, smile glued to her cheeks as she rolls her eyes, awkwardly adjusting the grip in her hands.

"Need help?" He offers, making an effort to not laugh at her obvious discomfort. Not that the laughter would come from a place of maliciousness, but just that she looks really cute. It would make him a little more comfortable if he could, but he's not sure which is worse; making her feel embarrassed, or having to explain himself.

"Maybe, yeah..." She agrees hesitantly, and he's already reaching out to adjust her hands.

"So just hold it like this..." He explains, placing her fingers in the right places. "And stand with your legs shoulder width apart." Rafe steps over next to her now to demonstrate in a way she can easily reflect. "Yeah, like that, then, line up, pull your elbow back and up like this-" He explains, holding an imaginary club and lifting his arms back, before swinging them down and forward, making a popping sound with his lips and then pretending to watch the ball fly with a hand over his eyebrows. "Got it?"

"I think so." Grace smiles, nodding slightly and looking down at the white ball again, lining up as Rafe takes a step back.

"Don't forget to imagine it's Nate's dick." Rafe adds.

"Rafe!" Grace laughs, turning to him and relaxing her posture again.

"No, you're right- sorry." He raises his hands. "That would make it like, a lot smaller and harder to hit."

"Oh, god- don't." Grace laughs as she looks away, an embarrassed pink flush coating her cheeks.

"Am I right?" Rafe teases her, his sole intentions being in making her glance at him with that slightly embarrassed but extremely genuine smile again.

"Rafe, I'm not telling you." She insists, trying to line up again.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"I'll hit you with this- how about that instead?" Grace turns to him, and yes, there it is. She's threatening him, sure, but not seriously, and if that's what it takes for her to look at him like that, he'd take the risk of being hit with a golf club every time.

"Okay, yup. Subject dropped." He agrees, smiling back at her. He just can't help it.

"Thank you..." Grace mutters, head shaking fondly at him. She's grateful now that she can talk about Nate without crying, but maybe that's just the Rafe effect.

After a moment of silence and a deep breath, she swings and misses- chipping the club onto the turf just next to the tee. "Oh- oops!"

"Just warming up?" Rafe chuckles, sitting down in the seat she previously occupied.

"Yeah, that was a practice swing. I've got it now." Grace agrees, lining up again. "Pressures on now for real."

"You're good." Rafe reminds her, trying not to stare too intensely. If she could feel his eyes boring into her skin she might mess it up again, so instead he sticks to her clothes, and the way her blue sweater is so clearly oversized but somehow fits her just right, tucked into the waistband of her jeans.

She swings while he's distracted, actually making contact with the ball this time. It wasn't a perfect hit, it flew off to the side but not very far. "I did it!" She grins, turning immediately to Rafe to see his reaction.

"Hey, not bad, Gracie!" He smiles, standing up again and reaching out instinctively to run his hand over her shoulder. "You're a natural."

"Okay, that's a bit dramatic." Grace laughs.

"Few more swings and you'll be perfect. Trust me." Rafe smiles, grabbing another ball for her.

They take turns for a while, and Grace only misses several more times before she actually gets the hang of it.

She's lining up again, feeling confident now as she stares down at the ball, swaying her hips back and forth to adjust her stance. Rafe, once again is watching with a proud smile on his face, arms crossed as he stands a few feet away. He happens to look up when he hears the buzzer for the gate open, a group of boys filing in. Standard, of course, and nothing to take note of until he recognizes one of them as Nate. Not only that, but Nate with his arm draped over a girls shoulder as she laughed at something he said. No doubt in Rafe's mind that it wasn't funny.

He had to get Grace out of here before she saw him. She swings which draws his attention again, and he's quickly gathering their stuff. "Hey, uh, I'm pretty hungry. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, actually, I could go for a coffee." Grace nods, turning to him and he's already holding her bag out to her. "Thanks.." She chuckles, dropping it back over her shoulder and grabbing a basket before turning towards the way they came in.

"Just go around that way." Rafe stops her, standing in front of her and taking the basket from her hands. "I'll drop off our stuff and meet you at the truck in a few, yeah?"

"Are you sure? I can come with you, you'll have a handful." Grace says, reaching out for the basket again.

"I'm sure. Just go around that way." He nods, pointing behind her to the emergency exit.

"Oh, okay. I'll meet you outside." Grace agrees, smiling at him thankfully before turning and taking the other exit which, thankfully, wasn't far.

Rafe turns as soon as the door shuts behind her, dropping the basket on the ground and picking up his club again.

He's pacing quickly over to where the boys and Nate's arm candy decided to set up, scowl clear as day on his face. "Nate!" He calls out as he gets closer, only allowing a moment for Nate to recognize him before he's tossing the driver into his left hand and swinging with his right, connecting his fist directly with that jerks nose.

Everyone in the immediate vicinity gasps as Rafe shakes out his fist, already cramping from the tension and impact. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" The girl asks, immediately reaching out for Nate who pushes her off.

"Don't touch me." He mutters, wiping his nose with his wrist, blood staining the crisp folded edges of the sleeve.

Rafe is staring at him as all his friends look between the two of them in shock. "I knew it was you who fucked with my car. I fucking knew it!" Nate says, raising his voice now as he glared at Rafe, staring him up and down.

"Maybe it was someone else who can see how much of a shitbag you are, have you ever considered that?" Rafe spits at him. "I bet you haven't, actually, because the only thing you can literally think about is yourself. You're a selfish prick."

"No, I know it was you." Nate shakes his head, scoffing. "What did I even do? You're the one who she cheated on me with! I'm innocent in this, not that either of you can get that through your thick skulls to realize that I am the one who was wronged."

"I've never touched her." Rafe says through gritted teeth. "If you knew her or cared about her you would have believed that when it came from her."

"Bullshit." Nate replies. "Anyway, tell your new girlfriend that we're even now."

"What does that mean?" Rafe ticks his jaw at this, knuckles white as they're wrapped around the grip of his golf club.

Nate laughs, shaking his head. "God, of course I'd have to spell it out for you..." He mutters. "Okay, fine. Tell her I... Cheated... Too." He says it slowly, mockingly, and Rafe sees red.

Before he processes anything, he's swinging the club at the boy in front of him, taking him down and then swinging again as he stands over him. He's quickly shoved back this time, dropping the club and catching a glimpse of one of the employees coming out to intervene just has he feels something hit his face. He's quick to pick up the club and run back, looking over his shoulder as he approaches his bag. He grabs it, throwing it over his shoulder and bolting out the emergency exit after Grace.

Grace is standing by the truck, reading a book she had in her bag, thinking to herself that she's glad she brought it just in case when she looks up at the sound of feet pounding into pavement. Rafe is running towards her, looking frantically over his shoulder.

"Rafe? What happened?" She asks, brow furrowed as she quickly closes her book. He throws his stuff in the bed of the truck and heads to the door.

"Hurry, just get in." He never intended to lash out on Nate like that, in all honestly he didn't even expect to throw the first punch- but that asshole made it impossible for him to resist.

"Are you okay? Oh my god, you're bleeding!" Grace exclaims, looking away from him to dig through her bag.

"I'm fine, I'm good." Rafe says, backing out of the parking spot and driving off quickly.

"No, no, it looks bad. Pull over somewhere." Grace tells him, pulling a couple napkins out of her bag and reaching out to hold them up to the cut on his jaw.

"I'm fine." Rafe says again, turning his head away. "I'll get you home and I'll deal with it."

Grace sighs, dropping her hands down again.

For the whole drive back to campus, it was silent. Grace didn't know what to say, despite having several questions, and Rafe didn't know how to say he was sorry or even explain what happened at all. He knew she wouldn't like it.

They pull up to the dorms and she gets out, grabbing her bag again and staring at him expectantly. "Get out."

"No, no I've got to-"

"Rafe, get out and come with me. We've got a first aid kit in our bathroom."

Rafe knows from the look on her face to not argue, sighing to himself and turning off the truck before getting out and following her upstairs.

She quickly uses her keycard to open the door, and pushes it open wide to let Rafe in with her. "Hey, Grace! How was your-" Her roommate starts to ask, stopping as she lays eyes on Rafe. "Oh! Holy shit, are you okay?"

"Olivia, this is Rafe." She introduces her quickly before Rafe can once again insist that he's fine. "Is the first aid kit still in the bathroom?"

"Yeah, I haven't touched it." Olivia stammers, looking shocked now.

"Thanks." Grace nods at her, dragging Rafe down the hall and into the bathroom by his hand. The way her palm is stretched around his is tense, he wished it didn't have to be that way.

She shuts the door behind them, digging around for the kit and pulling it out and opening it quickly. "I don't think you'll need stitches." She tells him, unwrapping gauze and alcohol wipes.

"I'm sorry." Rafe mumbles, surprised even to hear it from himself.

Grace pauses, looking up at him. Her eyes are soft again, she looks like herself, though the crease in her forehead has morphed from one of worry to one of confusion. "What? Don't be sorry."

"I am." Rafe replies, avoiding eye contact with her now.

"Well... What happened?" She asked, hesitantly continuing what she was doing.

"I, uh, Nate came in, and then I just-" Rafe explains and winces as Grace wipes off his cheek with a clean cloth. "I don't know... I didn't mean to, I guess."

"Is he okay?" Grace asks quietly.

"He'll be fine." Rafe clenches his jaw and she just nods a little bit. "Why do you even care?"

"He's a person, Rafe." She replies, delicately as possible trying to clean up the wound. "I mean, I know he hurt me, but that was superficial. I've loved him for years. I'd never want to see him in pain. But it happens, I suppose."

Rafe chews on the inside of his cheek as she talks. "You still love him?"

"Of course." She mumbles, almost embarrassed. "For now. One day that will change, I know that, but it's difficult to move on from the only love you've ever known."

"I'm sorry." Rafe says again. "I... I didn't know, I didn't mean to, I just wanted to try and talk some sense into him but he was with another girl and-"

"It's okay." Grace gives him a small smile. "Just... don't make a habit out of beating up my ex boyfriend, yeah?"

"One and done." Rafe promises, relaxed immensely by the forgiveness on her face.

"Thank you." She grins to herself, grabbing the alcohol wipe and brushing it over the area. "It's stopped bleeding, which is good. Now that it's cleaned up it doesn't look too bad."

"You should see the other guy." Rafe jokes, a slight tinge of pain in his tone as the alcohol gets into the cut.

"Oh, I'm sure." Grace chuckles, shaking her head. "Can I be honest with you for a sec? And you have to promise you'll never tell a soul."

"Of course." Rafe nods, smile fading as he's not sure what she'll say.

"You were kinda right." Grace blushes, giggling as she places a bandage over his cheek. From the confused expression on his face, she knows she'll have to explain. "It's... It's kinda small, I think." She whispers, face red now.

Rafe laughs, dropping his head back. "I knew it! I could just tell. And I knew you wouldn't have been embarrassed like that if I wasn't right."

"Shh, okay- never tell anyone." Grace giggles, holding a finger up to her lips. "I didn't tell you that, okay?"

"Nope, I didn't hear a thing." Rafe says, mock zipping his lips at that as he smiles down at the girl in front of him.

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#obx fanfic #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe fic #outer banks #obx #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fluff #rafe imagine #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction

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bidoldaccount · 11 months

Text

Window Into The Teenage Soul - Part 10

Pairing: Mike Wheeler / Female Reader

Warning: Some angst

Series Guide

"Y/n," the serious look on Steve's face has her heart dropping into her stomach. She looks at Mike first, his face a mirror of hers, dread and sadness. Max and Elle try to give hopeful, sympathetic smiles but they fall a bit short at the corners. Dustin, Will, and Lucas are staring at Steve with blank expressions, Y/n can see through them, they're just as scared as she is.

"What is it?" She dared to ask, her voice soft.

"You're dad reported you as a runaway and your mom told them that you were here. They contacted me this morning," his jaw clenched on the downward grind of his teeth. She barely felt Mike's hand clenching around hers against the rushing of blood inside of her. She's not sure what to say, her eye's are heating up and the bruises that have already completely faded are throbbing.

"What happens now?" Elle asked softly, her hand wrapping around your free hand.

"There's a woman who's going to come by later to get your side of the story. I gave her the basics, she just wants to hear your version." Steve walks the rest of the way into the living room and sits himself down on the coffee table in front of Y/n and Mike. "Best case senario, they let you stay here, which is also the least likely senario. Second best, they place you with a family somewhere close. Worst case, you go to a group home until you're eighteen."

"Which is the most likely," Y/n whispered, blowing out a shaky breath. Steve nods, his mouth set in a tight line. Her friends gather around her, wrapping their arms around her and each other, her eyes leaking with hot tears as she buries her face half in Mike's chest and half in Will's hair. She grips Elle's and Dustin's hands tightly. She felt Max's head on her lap, Lucas' head against her own, and Steve's comforting grip on her knee. She sighed out shakily, trying to remember each individual feeling of comfort from her friends. Mike gently kissed her forehead, his warmth the most prevelant.

They knew it would happen. They held out hope until the last second but Y/n still found herself standing in front of the social workers car with her luggage packed away in the back. It felt like she had been crying since she woke up, and if she thinks about it, she probably has.

Will steps up to her first, smiling softly at her.

"You're going to be okay, okay?" He whispered against her hair, his arms tight around her shoulders. She breathed out shakily, gripping onto the back of his shirt as she nodded.

Max was struggling not to cry, Y/n could see the redness in her eyes before she threw her arms around her.

"It's just for a few weeks," Y/n whispered, both for Max and herself.

"I know, but I'm still going to miss you like hell," She said.

Elle's face was completely tear streaked but she was still smiling softly.

"I love you so much," She whispered, kissing Y/n's cheek once she pulled away from a long hug.

"I'll see you in a few weeks, okay?" Dustin smiled softly at her, pinching her cheek like a brother would, before he hugged her.

Lucas hugged her silently, his shaky breathing and his lips against her forehead saying everyone she needed to know.

Mike licked his lips as he stepped up to her, wrapping her in his arms. "7 weeks and I'll be right there to pick you up, okay? You'll be right back here with me," he ran his hand against her hair, holding her tightly. He kissed her when he pulled away, trying to savor the feeling of her lips while he could. He'd visit her whenever he could, but the thought of her all alone, two hours away.

"I'll be okay," she nodded reassuringly. Mike kissed her one more time before stepping away. Steve turned to her with a sad smile, his arms going around her shoulder, his hands holding her gently against his chest. After months of staying with Steve, it felt like leaving a relative. She clutched onto his tee shirt, crying softly against his shoulder until she pulled away. He smiled at her, his thumb swiping against the tears on her cheeks.

They all stood together on the sidewalk, shoulder to shoulder, waving with sad smiles as she sat in the backseat of the social workers car, staring back at them as she drove away.

#stranger things #stranger things angst and fluff #mike wheeler x reader #Mike wheeler #Steve Harrington #will byers #max mayfield #Jane hopper #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #stranger things imagines

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 3 years

Text

OBSESSIVE STOLAS x Male Imp pt.5

(Hold up!!! Before you read this, at the bottom I've left links to the first 4 parts. Go read them first, so youve got all the back story.)

((This is a long fanfic and will consist of multiple parts.)

True to your word, you sent him the address later that day.

You agreed to meet up in the afternoon, telling him the meeting up time to meet.

Stolas had suggested a dinner date, but you had turned that down for some reason, telling him you had a better idea.

You had actually asked him on a date.

So happy was he, the rest of the day seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, the owl caught in a blissful haze.

Eventually it was dinner time, where the prince found himself eating alone, again.

He hadn't eaten with his family since, well you know.

He chose something simple.

Leftovers.

Grabbing the plate of last night's roast, he popped them into the microwave.

As he waited for his meal to heat, he quickly scrolled through his phone.

He was checking your voxtigram again, enjoying the collection of photos of you.

As he looked through he found the picture of you and Blitzø, the sight sending a pang of regret through his chest.

It was strange to think, just a day ago, he'd been head over heels for the Imp. Totally infatuated with him, and now... now he knew the truth.

Blitzø saw him as a meal ticket,nothing more.

He was just way to get to the living realm. What an idiot he'd been, a few kind words, a bit of sex there and he was totally under Blitzøs spell. He felt like an idiot.

His eyes shifted to you, and such warmth bloomed through his chest.

But you. You were genuine. You didn't want money or power, you wanted to make him happy.

You wanted to actually spend time with him, he wasn't just a meal ticket to you, he was someone worthy of love an attention.

He knew you weren't in love with him, not yet, but you would be, he'd show you just how worthy he was of your love.

His thoughts were interrupted by his dinner finished heating up.

He ate in silence, Stolas spending the whole time staring at the pictures of you.

After dinner he went for a shower, the hot water cascading down his body, the heat reminding him of the warmth you brought him just a day ago.

His thought slid to his time with you, fantasising about how intimate, how delicate and seductive you'd been.

The complete opposite of Blitzø.

His thighs ground together, his breath picking up as he slid a hand between his thighs.

He imagined you, holding him close, treating him like that delicate work of art, bringing him pleasure he didn't know existed.

Pleasure racked his body, his breathing hitched. And before he knew it, a mind shattering orgasm wracked his body.

After recovering from his little self pleasuring, he cleaned himself up and got out of the shower.

Walking into his room, he fell on his bed, feeling quiet satisfied. Curling up in bed, he fantasied about what the next day could hold for him.

He had a dreamless sleep that night waking up later than he had the morning prior, finding himself again, well rested.

Getting up, he went about his usual morning routine, all the way until he chose his outfit.

You had said something about wine, so did that mean it was more of a fine dining establishment. But you had said a pizza place right? So was it more of a casual, family restaurant.

He spent nearly half an hour thinking it over before he just decided to text you.

Stolas: Is there a dress code for tonight? I'm just picking out my outfit and don't want to come over dressed, I want something that to wow! you.

(Y/N): Hehehe, not really. Pick something casual and probably bring a coat as well, It gets kinda chilly out there at night.

(Y/N): We'll only be staying at the restaurant to eat, then I've got something planned for afterwards elsewhere.

Stolas: Is that so? And what have you got planned, something exciting I hope.

(Y/N): Nu uh, no hints. You'll just have to wait till tonight.

Stolas: Not even a little hint? 🥺🥺🥺

(Y/N): Nope, but I can promise it'll at least be the most romantic thing an Imp has ever done for you.

That kinda stung, bringing many unwanted memories to the forefront of his mind. You quickly texted again,

(Y/N): Fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything like that. I just, doubt an Imp like me could match the typical royal date.

Stolas: it's alright, I understand what you meant.

(Y/N): But I can promise it'll be the most romantic thing someone's done with you on a budget.

Stolas actually laughed at that, falling onto his bed like a teenager. The two of you exchanged a little more info, before he finally picked an outfit.

He chose a fairly simple outfit; A stylish pair of jeans, a simple red and black T-shirt with a rather attractive heart pattern across it and then it was one of his favourite leather jackets with a beautiful fur collar

He left the manor grounds just as the sun began to set, the city night-life around the manor already beginning to pick up.

It was a fairly short drive, most people knowing to stay out of the way of a royal limousines.

Finding the street and location you'd described, he had the limo park in front of a rather unassuming building, not really looking any different from the hundred other boarded up buildings on the block.

Getting out, he stood there for a few minutes before he heard you call out. 'Hey good lookin, looking for a good time?' Turning around, he found you approaching.

You carried a simple wicker basket, wearing a humble, yet fitting attire,

You wore a stylish black T-shirt that seemed to just cling to all the right places, your jeans were faded, but not enough to warrant throwing out. And a pair of simple black shoes.

When you got closer, the demon piped up, 'If you were planning a picnic, the basket kind of gives it away.' He told you playfully.

You released a laugh, shaking your head. 'Nah, all that's already set up. I just don't wanna carry everything from here to there by hand.' You told him simply.

'Ooooh' he cood, 'and what is it your getting here, hmm?' He asked, playfully gesturing to the building.

'Oh you know, this and that, you'll be surprised how much they serve here.' You told him just as playful.

Stolas stood up before looking around, 'Speaking of what they serve here', I can't help but wonder where "here" is, this doesn't exactly look like a restaurant.' He told you, gesturing to the rather dull wall of buildings before you.

You just chuckled, looking up at the prince before telling him, 'Dont judge a book by its cover, dear prince of mine' you told him playfully.

You hadn't realised it, but when you called him yours, it sent a wave of euphoria through the owl that he simply couldn't describe.

His mind was addled, the owl clutched himself as he watched you speak, to caught up in this feeling to catch what you said.

He was snapped from his stupor, when he found you were looking up at him, seemingly expecting a response.

The owl panicked, snapping to attention and blurting out, 'Of course, words to live by,' before he just stood there, smiling like an idiot.

You stared at him for several moments, the awkwardness so palpable you could practically see it in the air.

After another moment, Stolas shook his head, 'S-sorry, uh, what was that last thing?' He asked, trying to salvage the situation.

You chuckled, shaking your head, 'nothin, let's go shall we?' You asked him, stepping forward.

He followed close behind, following you into a nearby alleyway.

He followed in silence, but as your path grew longer he decided to ask where you were going. Only for you to suddenly stop and turn towards a large metal shudder.

Looking up at him, you did a little knock on the shudder, before just standing there.

A few minutes pass by before Stolas whispered, 'what are we waiting for?'

You laughed at that, before telling him, 'He always takes a minute to get here... any second now.'

A few seconds go by, just as Stolas was gonna pipe up again, the shudder suddenly shot up, revealing an middle aged Imp carrying a shotgun.

The Imp stared at him for a few moments before looking down and spotting you, 'Oh (Y/n)! Didnt expect you so early.' He told you, lowering the shotgun, 'who's the string bean?' He asked bluntly.

You just laughed as Stolas became indignant, looking himself up and down before asking himself if he really look like a string bean?

''This is my...' you hesitated for a moment, the owl held his breath, waiting for you to finish the sentence

'... my date' you finished, 'this is my date "Prince" Stolas.' You told him firmly, enough pride in your voice to make Stolas flush.

The Imp looked him up and down, 'A prince huh? Damn (Y/n), really pickin up your game' The older Imp gave you a rather lecherous grin.

You scoffed, stepping forward and asking 'Can we come in or are we just gonna stand around talking all night?'

The elder Imp just huffed before stepping out of the way.

The two of you walked into a somewhat narrow stairwell, the prince having to crouch walk to squeeze in there.

'Sorry 'bout the tight fit there your highness, we usually only get Imps down here, it'll be more roomy downstairs.' The old Imp spoke up as they made there way down the stairs.

Stolas chose not to reply, choosing instead to just take it in stride.

It was another minute of walking down the cramped stairwell when they suddenly entered a much larger chamber, the owl able to stand up.

Once he'd stretched his back, Stolas got a good look around, and found himself transfixed by the splendour of the place.

Honestly the place could probably give most of the restaurants he'd been too a run for there money.

It was a large hall, clearly some old structure with black bricks making up most of the walls.

A number of quaint little lanterns hung from the roof giving the whole chamber a pleasantly dim atmosphere.

A series of tables filled the centre of the chamber, each one decked in a cloth, with its very own candle lit center piece.

The architecture created smaller arches along the walls, many of them gave way to small booths where other Imps were enjoying there meal. While others were filled in by wine wracks, each one filled with a variety of bottles.

'My it's... it's...' before Stolas could finish, you cut in, 'yeah... I know, it's not exactly the rits, but for an Imp run business, it's pretty sophisticated.' You seemed disappointed, likely having interpreting his stunned silence as disappointment.

Stolas quickly cleared that up, telling you 'it's beautiful, I've never seen a place like it.' He told you honestly.

Looking down he found you positively beaming.

Reaching out, you grabbed his hand. You dragged him along like an excited child, taking him to what was obviously the front desk.

Placing the wicker basket on top the counter, you binged the bell.

A moment passed before a shorter and clearly much older Imp walked out. Upon seeing you there face lit up, 'Oh (Y/N), so good to see you.' They said cheerfully, pulling out a medium leather bound book from under the counter, they looked up and said, 'Lets see. Ah! Here you are. One table. A high ceiling and a strong bottle, correct?' They asked pleasantly.

You just nodded, them quickly putting the book away and began leading you away.

He found himself led into another chamber, this one much smaller but still just as pleasant.

In this one, a quaint little chandelier, giving the room a pleasant warm glow.

The older Imp quickly left, promising to bring menu's upon his return.

You led him in 'Beautiful place, isn't it?' You asked, seeming a hundred miles away.

'It is' He agreed, never taking his eyes off of you.

It took a few moments, but eventually you locked eyes, a smile growing across your lips.

After a moment, you seemed to snap back to reality, quickly walking over and pulling out one of the chairs, 'Your highness' you told him, an almost seductive tone to your voice.

'Such a gentleman' he spoke playfully, taking his seat.

Pushing him in, you walked around and took your seat.

Sitting down, you leaned forward, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment, neither of you sure what to say.

Eventually you spoke up, 'Can... can I ask you something?' You asked hesitantly.

Stolas, seeing the mood shift, leaned forward, responding with 'of course you can... what is it?'

You took a moment, placing your mouth behind your balled fist, 'I just... I just want to know... What is this?' You asked somberly.

That took him off guard, 'I, uh... I thought this was a date,' he tried to lighten the mood.

You did smile at that, but it was short lived, the sombre look returning.

'No... I mean like, you and me. What is this?' You asked him.

Stolas found himself at a loss.

What were you?

This was a date, wasn't it? So that would make you a potential couple? But he was already married... so, what the hell did that make you?

He sat there for longer than he'd like without an answer, before he felt he just had to say something. 'I don't... I don't know.' He told you honestly.

'I mean, this is a date? And I uh...' He didn't know were to go.

Out of options, he decided to do something that hadn't gone the best for him lately, but with you he felt it would be his best course to take.

He was gonna go with his gut.

'I want there to be something.' He told you, 'You make me feel like... like I deserve to be loved. Like I can be loved... Something I haven't felt in quiet a while.'

'I haven't felt like I really deserve anything in... Hell.... Decades?' He was tearing up now, his voice thick with emotion, 'I don't know if I deserve love, (Y/N).'

'I only ever seem to end up hurting the people I care about.' Tears formed in his eyes, the owl gripped his head, 'Lately I feel like a curse. Like I can only bring pain and misery to those around me... and after what I've done, I can't help but feel I deserve it.'

He looked up at you, a little smile across his face, 'But you... you make me feel like... like someone cares about me... Like someone cares about what I want. And you don't want anything from me... your not just using me as a means to an end... You care about me.' He was shaking now, a gentle tear sliding down his cheek.

He sat there for a moment, on the brink of tears, just as he felt you grab his hand.

Looking down he found you gently grasping his hand. You slowly inspected it, gently running your fingers along the long slender digits.

'You know...' you began, unease in your voice. 'I had no idea what I was doing, that first time.'

'I wanted to cheer you up, make you smile.' You let out a little chuckle, 'And as cliché as it might sound, I could tell you just wanted someone to love you, to make you feel something.' you smiled up at him.

'I knew you needed some kind of affection and I... I couldn't just let you sit there, drowning in despair. So I did it, I gave you the love you needed' You told him, your voice getting a little unbalanced.

You looked up at him, your throat tightening and voice becoming shaky, 'And if after that first time together... I after what we did... you had said you wanted to just pretend like nothing happened. I would have accepted it. I could have accepted that.' You told him firmly.

'Theres so much misery around me, so many suffering for no real reason. So if I could make you happy, even for just a moment. I'd be happy.' A smile spreading across your face.

'I don't know what's gonna happen next.' You told him. 'And I don't know what's gonna happen next.'

Your voice grew firmer, as did your resolve. 'But I wanna get closer to you and you wanna get closer to me. So how's about we just... see where this goes?' You asked him.

Stolas was a little shocked, 'You... you'd really do that, just give it a shot, to be with me?' He asked incredulously.

You just nodded your head, a little smile across your face, 'I... I wanna be with you Stolas, if that's alright with you?' You asked almost playfully.

Stolas couldn't help but laugh, vigorously nodding his head, 'Yes, Yes, a thousand times Yes.' He told you getting to his feet.

His emense height allowing him to lean over the table, locking you into a passionate kiss.

The Owl couldn't help it, he pressed into the kiss, so much so he was scared he might hurt your lips.

But he just couldn't help it, he was feeling such passion right now, all he could think to do was get as close to you as possible.

Hey Hey. Doing some old stories now. I've got so many requests I think I'll just relax a little, do them at my own pace.

This is the 5th part of my series Here's the link to my other chapters

OBSESSIVE STOLAS X Male Imp Pt.1

OBSESSIVE STOLAS x Male Imp Pt.2

OBSESSIVE STOLAS X Male Imp Pt.3

OBSESSIVE STOLAS x Male Imp pt.4

so check that out. I'm gonna be doing some more of my own original works lately, but feel free to leave a request, just don't expect me to get to it any time soon. Any way, hope you enjoyed the story. Bye Bye.

#helluva boss headcanon #helluva boss #headcanon #x reader #helluva boss x reader #helluva stolas #stolas x reader #stolas

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s-brant · 3 years

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Cherry Bowl (3/8)

(gif: @kiekiecarrera) (PART TWO) (PART FOUR) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: When Kie cancels their plans together, Y/N asks JJ on a date to the Cherry Bowl Drive-In. Unsure of how to navigate his first ever date, JJ seeks out advice. Unfortunately, the night doesn’t go as planned, and both parties are left shaken by miscommunication.

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Smut, public sex/exhibitionism, sexual choking, angst, depictions of mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, and implied/referenced abuse.

A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! Slight trouble in paradise is brewing for these two lovers, so buckle up and read because it’s gonna be a rollercoster for a little while after what happens in this chapter. I hope you all like it, and if you did, feedback is very appreciated. Have fun!

"I'm just saying that oatmeal raisin is superior to chocolate chip, why is that such an egregious crime, Kie?"

The lunch room is filled to the brim with students going to town on questionably cooked frozen foods, soggy tater tots, and sugary drinks from the vending machines despite the Obama-era posters on the walls advocating for healthier school lunches that never seemed to make their way to Kildare County High. The extent of their healthy lunches extended to a serving of overcooked canned green beans served with the worst slice of doughy pizza known to human kind, so it was sort of contradictory.

Y/N sits across the table from Pope and JJ, the latter of which being the one who launched into a full-fledged debate with Kiara about which type of cookie was better.

The clear cling wrap sits, unfolded, on the table with one of her stickers neatly placed on the back of it. As consolation for his epic loss yesterday at the beach, she paid an extra .75 cents to get him it when she arrived first to their shared lunch period—one of only two class periods they have together, the other being gym. He was still in line when she peeled a surfboard sticker off of her sheet and placed it at the center of the wrapped up cookie as if to remind him of her triumph over him in the waves.

"Thanks, hot stuff," he said, voice somewhat quieter despite the fact that hardly anyone was in the cafeteria with them. Then his smile dropped into an deadpan expression as soon as he saw her choice of sticker and looked back up at her. "You're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"Never in a million years. I'll be gloating about it until I'm elderly."

"That's my girl."

The sound of the constant chatter surrounding them from at least two hundred other people drowns out the memories of yesterday that threaten to haunt her when she watches him debate with Kie. The mere recollection of their night in the back of the van has her reaching to pull the collar of her cropped tee up to assure that the hickeys remain hidden on instinct, and he catches the action out of the corner of his eye. It has him fighting a smile.

Kie quips, "Maybe on another planet, but, here, I think we can all agree chocolate chip is better, right Y/N?"

Y/N's eyes widen around a forkful of mushy "green beans" at the sound of her name being said bringing her from the depths of her memories.

Usually, she's quick to jump in and give her two cents on whatever stupid back and forth they're all having, but her mind was elsewhere. Unbeknownst to Kie and Pope, she was mentally reliving every second of getting fucked in the van last night, so her attention to detail when it comes to the Chocolate Chip vs Oatmeal Raisin case isn't all too sharp.

"Uhhh," she stops for a second, looking at the half eaten chocolate chip cookie in Kie's hand, "If I say chocolate chip is better, can I get a piece of it?"

Kie's face lights up at her words, and she's already pulling off a generous chunk of the baked good to hand off to her. The sound of a certain someone whose lap Y/N's legs are outstretched onto from beneath the table scoffing distracts her from the first bite.

"I know you prefer oatmeal raisin, you traitor," JJ says.

Their brunette friend's brows scrunch.

"Why is she a traitor?"

They try to keep from making any faces or giving anything away, but Y/N has to stifle the sound of her choking on her mouthful of cookie at the question. You'd think one of them came out and asked if they were dating or something with how she reacts, and she feels JJ squeeze her ankle in a non-verbal way of telling her to hold it together. It was her idea in the first place, yet he's a lot smoother with keeping it under the radar.

Under it all, the aspect of keeping it a secret does unnerve him to a degree. He doesn't think he'd be brave enough to communicate it, especially not when their relationship remains undefined, but the darker side of his mind wonders...

He shrugs, saying, "Cause we were friends first. Duh. Other than John B, I've known her the longest."

None of them stop to acknowledge the identical aches in their hearts at the mentioning of his name. They skip right over it like it never happened. After the funeral a few days ago, they've filled their quota on mushy-gushy sad talk for the next week and a half.

The real reason is something far more complicated than him having a claim staked on her loyalty through having the longest friendship. It's something tied up in days of slowly getting pulled into one another's worlds like the tug of gravity itself, in how he has to refrain from slipping his arm around her waist in the hallway or kissing her goodbye after a sleepover at the Chateau. But until she gives him the go-ahead, he won't let it slip to anyone.

Pope speaks up from beside him, "You literally met her twenty minutes before we did."

"Still counts. Technically, I did meet her first, so her betraying Team Oatmeal Raisin is enough to be tried for treason in Pogue Court."

"Pogue Court isn't a thing."

He crosses his arms after he pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"It is now. You can be tried for treason for breaking the rules. Rule number one is that all Pogues have to admit oatmeal raisin is superior."

He's about to ball up the cling wrap to throw away later when the surfboard sticker catches his attention again. It's the same color as his board, which he'd like to think is a result of her being an evil mastermind that went out to get this sticker sheet for the sole purpose of teasing him, but he's the one who got her the sheet as a gift for her birthday, so he knows it was pure coincidence.

Last second, he peels the sticker away from the cling wrap and looks down to place it over the top of her yellow converse that were once a vibrant, paler color when Big John got them for her, but have since turned into an ugly mustard/dirt-dusted color they heckle her over.

"What are the other rules?" Y/N asks.

One of the hands holding onto where her feet are casually planted in his lap, something that they've done long enough that their friends won't see it as anything odd, slides down to caress the stretch of skin beneath the frayed hem of her dark jeans. Something she didn't know about him before whatever it is they have together started was that he constantly needs to be touching her. She can't say she doesn't love it though.

Pope answers, "The oatmeal raisin rule is not official"—a pointed glance at JJ—"But I'd assume the rest of the rules of Pogue Court would be no lying and no macking."

"So, basically you two break almost every rule except the oatmeal raisin one, and I lie," JJ says and turns to look at her, "How does it feel to be better than everyone, Y/N?"

"Pretty good, not gonna lie."

He keeps caressing little circles and tracing up and down her skin beneath the flared out pant leg of her jeans while he swipes his phone off of the table top without attracting the attention of their friends, who continue on to a new topic. She isn't too focused on what it is. She only picks up that it has something to do with a class they're in that's more advanced that hers, so she promptly checks out of the conversation.

Ever since John B died, she hasn't been performing too well in school. She tries, truly tries, but her mind outright refuses to absorb any of the information. When she reads her assigned reading, she hovers over the same paragraphs over and over until she shuts the book in a huff and hides it in her backpack again. Losing someone you love has a surprising amount of side effects.

Her phone buzzing in her hand brings her away from the impending cloud of doom that often accompanies any thoughts of John B, and when she taps in her passcode, her brother's birthday, a message bubble appears with a banner displaying JJ's contact name.

JJ (Derogatory) ur a good liar. prob could've fooled me if i weren't the one macking on u

Their eyes meet for a second across the table, then he watches her thumbs move to type a response.

Kief Princess Little do they know I break every rule now that I've switched sides on the cookie debate. Kinda impressive ngl.

JJ (Derogatory) triple threat, baby

JJ (Derogatory) thanks for the cookie btw

She smiles to herself, so wrapped up in their own world that she doesn't notice everyone in the room starting to pack up their stuff in anticipation of the bell that is due to ring any second now.

Kief Princess Had to repay you for last night somehow ;)

When she glances up to see his reaction, she watches his chest rise with a particularly large inhale, and he chews on the inside of his lip in thought.

JJ (Derogatory) strategically bringing up last night so i'm turned on in physics? ur an evil mastermind

Kief Princess I try.

Kief Princess Apparently whooping your sorry ass at surfing isn't the only thing I'm good at.

She hears him scoff.

JJ (Derogatory) first of all, ouch. second, u barely beat me

Kief Princess I'm happy to challenge you to a rematch. I have plans with Kie tonight, so I can't till this weekend. All it'll prove is that I am the rightful winner, but we knew that already.

JJ (Derogatory) what r the stakes this time

Kief Princess No sexual favors. If you beat me (fat chance) I'll formally rejoin team oatmeal raisin.

JJ (Derogatory) :( sex makes it more fun but i still accept those conditions

JJ (Derogatory) team oatmeal raisin needs u, even if ur a traitor

Kief Princess Why bet sexual favors if you're just gonna fuck me after anyway?

JJ (Derogatory) good point

The sound of the bell ringing echoes through the cafeteria, and they both pop their heads up from their phone screens to see everyone, including Pope and Kie, already packed up and raising from their seats to scurry off in the direction of their next classes. Meanwhile, their stuff is all bestrewn across the table, particularly JJ's belongings.

The sight of Kie walking away makes Y/N ask after her, "We're still on for tonight, right?

She stops with Pope's hand interwoven in hers. The look on her face when she turns would make you think she got caught doing something she wasn't meant to. Something like forgetting about the plans they made last week to watch Fear Street together. The Cherry Bowl Drive-In is premiering the first two movies as a double feature for the horror movie buffs of Kildare, so they decided to get tickets. Kiara shares a fondness of horror movies with her. Since gory movies make the boys squirm, though JJ pretends they don't, it's their own thing.

"Actually, Pope and I were gonna go to the beach. I'm sorry."

JJ knows she's more upset about it than she lets on, but Y/N simply gives the pair a smile that doesn't reach the eyes.

The sound of JJ behind her makes them laugh on their way out, diffusing the minor tension lingering in the air from the awkward encounter, "Use protection!"

After their friends offer them a goodbye, they gather their stuff quite leisurely, not really caring about being late.

It's something they've talked about before here or there: her feelings surrounding Kiara and Pope's sudden relationship. It's not as if she harbors any ill feelings for them, she doesn't, but the ripple effects of their pairing on the group, and more importantly the girls' own friendship, couldn't be clearer from her perspective. Between the missed hangouts, forgotten plans, and the convenient way she never seems to have time to hang out with her and JJ unless Pope is there too, it's been building up for a month now.

What makes it sting the most is how close her and Kie used to be. They didn't hit it off immediately the way she and JJ did as children until her thirteenth birthday when no one she invited showed up to the party Big John helped her set up in the yard of the Chateau.

She was the one who rallied the boys together to walk to ask their school friends from the year above to come hang out for an hour or two, promising a slice of the wonky-looking but delicious strawberry cake her and John B spent the morning crafting together. She can remember the sound of their high-pitched laughs and the cloud of flour that hung in the kitchen when they high-fived over the finished product like it was yesterday. In her heart, it was yesterday.

That night was when she fell in love with her friends, and that was when she first knew Kiara was her best friend. They wove friendship bracelets on each other that night and wore them for years until they withered away. No one had ever done something like that for her before. Not even JJ.

"You okay?"

Feeling his hand on her arm, slipping down to take her hand for a moment in the seclusion of the empty cafeteria, makes her glance up at him with a distinct sorrow washed over her features.

You know what? Screw this. Why should she be torn up over Kie and let it ruin her excitement for the double feature tonight? There's no way in hell she's letting her best friend ditching her for her boyfriend get in the way of her plans.

"Do you wanna go on a date tonight?" she asks him abruptly, then adds, "To the Cherry Bowl with me instead of Kie?"

The question sparks a pause in his mind, a halt of hesitation in which he worries about her avoiding having to answer what he asked, but he attempts to play it cool and not fuss over her outwardly. There have been times where being treated like that has made her feel suffocated, so he doesn't want to risk it. When she's ready, she'll talk about it, and if she takes too long and buries her feelings, then he'll intervene. For now, he tries to keep his face neutral despite the frown tempting his lips at her disappointment.

JJ looks around once more before throwing his arm around her shoulder to walk her out.

"You bet your ass I do."

What is a person supposed to act like on their first date that's not actually a date cause everything between them is the same, but kinda is a date because they called it one? If you ever find out, please find JJ and tell him because he has no clue.

Pope wasn't too much help in the Instagram group chat he made for it seeing as his and Kie's relationship is too fresh, John B isn't even alive, so he's out of service for advice unless there's Ouija Board he can borrow, and, thankfully, Kiara was his savior.

Their phones began blowing up as soon as he reached his class after lunch period ended. He couldn't under any circumstances let it be known that this mystery girl he had a date with was their friend, but thankfully Y/N already had the alibi of going to the Drive-In alone. All he had to do was make up a fake date scenario and get basic advice.

danknugstickiestickies added kiara-c and popeheyward to the groupchat

danknugstickiestickies named the group HELP ME

danknugstickiestickies i have a date with this chick i met on the beach when i was out with y/n last week. i need ur advice

His phone screen lit up with the notification that both of his friends were typing, signified with the three dot symbol bouncing in the bottom left corner as he thought it through. They couldn't possibly figure it out, right? They'd been careful, he'd been respectful of her wishes, and they'd been too busy together to notice anything new with them. He figured it would work. It was a risk, sure, but it was worth it to him. He didn't want to fuck this up with her.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn’t even treat it differently than any of their other hang outs. It's not like they haven't been romantic or sexual with each other. They've done everything but go out on an actual date, so why was he nervous?

kiara-c ummmm

popeheyward Yeah, I'm gonna need you to ELABORATE!!

kiara-c did hell freeze over? since when does jj maybank go out on dates??

danknugstickiestickies renamed the group hell froze over

kiara-c very funny, I'm laughing so hard 😐

popeheyward Do we know her?

danknugstickiestickies don't think u do. she moved here last week and hasn't enrolled in school yet. her name's steph

popeheyward What about Y/N though?

kiara-c ^^

JJ's chest muscles tightened with the question prompting a rush of anxiety that made his breathing feel slightly harder. He glanced up at his Physics teacher, who was essentially dozing off behind his desk with his hand in a bag of chips and an educational video on the projector as an excuse to not teach, and looked back down at his phone without the added stress of possibly getting his phone confiscated.

Pope's message might as well have been a sucker punch. Forget butterflies, he set a wasp’s nest loose inside of his stomach to tie it into knots and flip it every which way. His neglected textbook served as a prop for his phone to lean on as he set it down to think.

Did they know? As far as he was aware, they were getting away with it. No evidence, concrete or circumstantial, was there to prove it. At least the stress of the situation killed any chance of him being turned on by her reminder of last night in their messages. This shit was boner repellant of the highest degree.

He played stupid. Better to let them volunteer whatever information they had before he went in saying anything incriminating that they didn't already know. If anything would sour the experience of their first date, it would be him accidentally making their strange in-between relationship public behind her back.

danknugstickiestickies ?? what do u mean

Three dots bounced in the bottom left corner of his slightly cracked phone screen.

popeheyward ...

kiara-c I mean, you don't see it?

danknugstickiestickies see what

popeheyward I guess we were wrong, but all of us always thought you two had some feelings going on.

"You don't say?" JJ murmured sarcastically to himself under his breath. "Never crossed my mind, Pope."

danknugstickiestickies bro that's jb's little sister

kiara-c so?

danknugstickiestickies forbidden fruit? making john b roll over in his grave? do those ring a bell or am i speaking in tongues

He was already a proficient liar in real life, but, fuck, it was easy in text messages. There's no chance at deciphering facial expression or tone, just a plain message with no room to budge. Thank God he didn't do this in person with them. He could've survived, but it wouldn't have been as quick and painless as the group chat was.

kiara-c jeez, sorry

Pope didn't voice it, but he noticed something.

He looked up from his phone and stared off at the wall in thought in his AP European History class. It piqued his interest that JJ simply said she was off limits, forbidden fruit as he put it, but did not outright deny having feelings for her. In fact, he didn't even address the question. He made excuses for why he shouldn't have feelings for her, but he never said he didn't have feelings for her.

Kie did not notice. Not because she wasn't smart enough to either, but because she was too busy hiding her phone behind her backpack to think too deeply about it. Her teacher was one of those teachers that would flip shit if they saw a cell phone turned off and faced down on the desk, let alone being used by a student during a lesson.

In his classroom across the hallway, JJ bounced his leg up and down beneath his desk in an absentminded urge to release the built up energy the anxiety produced in an over abundance.

popeheyward Our bad then. Even John B thought y'all were sus lmao.

Since when was that a known fact? Could he tell? Did he talk to Pope about him and Y/N before he died? Either way, it wasn't the time to pry about it.

kiara-c yeah you guys honestly could've fooled me if you wanted to

danknugstickiestickies well thank u, glad ur invested in our friendship but

danknugstickiestickies please help, i have no fucking clue how to act on a date and this girl is too cool for me to screw this up

That was when they finally dropped the interrogation session and started offering up tips. The best ones came from Kie, which made sense to him since women are more likely to know what other women like than two dudes who share one collective brain cell and never had real relationships.

Rule One: Be ready to pick her up five minutes early.

He wasn't ready to pick her up five minutes early. His bike broke down by the time he made it halfway down his street, so he had to push it back up the road and into the yard before setting off on foot to reach the Chateau quickly enough. And by quickly enough, it means he got there five minutes late, not early.

Rule Two: Compliment her after you get in the car.

She tossed him the keys to the Twinkie from across the hood, not giving him the chance to open the door for her, and it wasn't until they were setting off down the road that he remembered the next piece of advice he was given.

Side-eyeing her in his peripheral vision, he tried to find something to compliment her on specifically rather than the general compliments about her being pretty that she never fully believes when he says them. He was intending to say something about the skirt she had on, but when he chanced a glance over at her, she caught him and asked—

"What is it?"

Sent into panic mode, JJ blurted out instead, "I like your shoes."

He could've bashed his face against the steering wheel twenty times right then and there at the utter absence of reaction on her part for the next few uncomfortable seconds. It wasn't that it was a bad compliment. She appreciates any compliments at all...but her shoes were hidden from his view. Not to mention, they were the dirty, mustard yellow converse that the Pogues bash on a daily basis.

She laughed, lifting her leg to expose the sneaker on her right foot, and asked, "These? Dude, you roast me for these all the time. You and John B said they look like Big Bird shit on them."

The skin on the apples of his cheeks scorched hot with embarrassment, and he was never so glad that the overhead lights in the van were burnt out until that moment. He would've died on the spot if she saw him blush like that, face flushed pinker than sunburn. All he could do to save himself was murmur something about the color growing on him and keep driving in the direction of the theater with his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel he fantasized about banging his face into.

Rule Three: Insist on picking up the check.

In this case, it meant insist on buying the popcorn and drinks, and he miraculously managed to drop his wallet somewhere along the way when he ran over to the Chateau, so when he stepped up to the makeshift concession stand with her standing at his side, he felt around for his wallet in his jeans to no avail.

His thoughts echoed back to him, You gotta be fucking kidding me. Seriously? Is this actually happening right now?

"JJ, it's honestly fine," she said softly as he leaned over to search back of the Twinkie for the wallet. "We can look for it on your street right now if you want. It has your ID and stuff, you don't want a stranger to have that. We don't need to stay—"

It took all of his control to not shout it in reaction when he said, "No way. You've been waiting for this, and Kie ditched you, so I ain't ditching you too. We're staying."

His wallet could go kick rocks.

He came too far to be dragged down by the old leathery piece of shit anyway. Would he go out and search for it tirelessly the second the date ended? Hell yeah, that fucker had twenty dollars and his debit card in it, but he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her or ruining her anticipated movie night by taking her out to search the streets with their phone flashlights for a wallet they might not find. He'd wait till the movies ended, take her home, then haul ass around the Cut searching for it after.

Thankfully, he found a couple bucks crumbled up in his front pocket while she scavenged for coins in the glove compartment, and they came up with enough to buy a water bottle and small popcorn to share together.

Rule Four: Don't have sex on the first date.

And it may sound easy enough to not act like a complete Neanderthal for the length of two movies, but the girl makes it pretty damn difficult if he's to say so himself.

That's what led him here, laying in the back of the sideways-parked Twinkie in the farthest corner of the outdoor theater with her practically on top of him. In any other instance, he wouldn't be opposed in the slightest, but with the cursed fourth rule in mind, he isn't too thrilled with the feeling of her hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

It isn't even meant to be sexual. They're constantly touching one another this way. She'll even slip her hands up under his shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin or when he asks her if she can get an itch on a part of his back he can't reach, but for some reason his brain is short circuiting right now.

The thing is, when Kie and Pope said he shouldn't do it on the first date, they meant it for his and Steph's made up circumstances, not his and Y/N's full-blown relationship without labels. When you've had sex with someone as many times as they have with each other, the hesitancy on the "first date" is nonexistent. It doesn't matter. But JJ, trying to follow the advice given to him to the letter for the sake of being the date she deserves, doesn't think about it that way.

It shouldn't be this nerve-wracking. They've been best friends since they were children, they've been flirting since they found out what basic attraction was in the first place, and they've been forming this relationship ever since John B died. Why can't he relax? Why is this so different compared to how easy it felt between them yesterday on the beach or today at lunch?

Rule Five: Be yourself.

It takes him another few moments of laying here with her before he realizes quite abruptly what went wrong in a quick flash of a thought that brings the fifth rule back to him. The problem wasn't the bike, or the weird compliment about her Big Bird sneakers, or the lost wallet.

The problem is him. The problem is that he's trying way too hard to make this something it isn't. The part about them that he adores so dearly is how they never have to try when they're together. With any other girl or guy, they'd have to fake something or act a certain way, yet when they're together, they can simply exist and everything is runs smoothly. That's not to say they don't disagree or bump heads, they do, but short of those outlier moments, it's easier than anything else they do in life.

His eyes flicker away from the screen for the first time since the movie began, which, by the way, is gruesome enough at times that he had to divert his eyes to prevent himself from seeing it happen. They land on where she lays, completely content with the night in spite of its mishaps, with her head propped up on the pillows they brought from the Chateau.

He wonders if she can tell he's acting differently. Surely she must notice. She's the type of person that typically never misses a thing, perfect for the gold hunt they went on in the summer with picking up the clues and helping her brother unravel the mystery, so maybe she noticed how flustered this date has him. Does it bother her? Does he bother her?

With a confirming glance back up at the movie to see nothing important happening, he can't fight the urge to speak anymore.

"Can I tell you something?"

His voice appearing through the darkness of the shut off van after spending the past half hour in complete silence makes her jolt at first before realizing who it was. Though she loves horror movies, she can't claim to not be affected by them. The night she falls asleep after watching one, she often finds herself compelled to turn a light on and keep her feet from dangling off the edge of the bed. It's worth the fear, though.

When she turns to look at JJ, there's a warm smile on her face. She's cuddled into his side with a hand placed casually atop his thigh, caressing with no purpose or intent, and her movement halts when the light from the movie on the projector allows her to see the expression on his face.

Anxiety has become an increasingly significant presence in his life with the recent events in mind; John B and Sarah, the four-hundred million dollars they lost out on, and dodging his father whenever he sneaks home to switch out the backpack of clothes and personal belongings he keeps at the Routledge house.

It manifests itself in jittery nerves, stomach pains, shortness of breath, and, at worst, panic attacks striking either at random or in response to a specific trigger. It's one of the few things he still tries to hide from her, and she tries not to push him too hard with opening up about it.

She abandons the movie for the time being and rolls onto her side to face him, upper body propped up on her elbow as she examines his face with downturned features.

"Of course," she says.

The words left unsaid are, "You can tell me anything. Whenever you need someone to listen, or to talk to about shit, you can tell me." He's heard her say it enough that he doesn't need to hear it now to know it's true.

There's a pause, then—

"I feel like I fucked this entire date up," he starts to ramble and cuts her off before she can think about saying what she wants to, "and I know it's okay to you. You have way too high of a tolerance for my bullshit, and I've been trying so hard to make this perfect, but all that did was screw it up."

She's left quiet for a second, taking it all in.

Maybe if he hadn't been so anxious about it, he would've realized what was wrong with his bike when he rode it home from school, or he would've noticed his wallet fall out of his pocket. The point is, he wishes he hadn't let the label attached to this freak him out so much. He isn't sure why it does, but it does.

But she doesn't do what he expects. She isn't drowning him in reassurances and, "It's okay's" because she knows he doesn't care for them much. When he, the most stubborn person she knows, apologizes for something he did, he doesn't want it to turn into the person accepting the apology coddling him.

Y/N sighs.

"Is that why you've been acting so different all night? I scared you with the whole ‘date’ thing, didn't I? It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be."

What she doesn't know is that he wants it to be a date. He wants it to be a date so badly, he risked Pope and Kie finding them out for the sake of getting some proper advice on it, and now he's caught up in the same game of tug and war in his mind that always occurs when he wants to tell her the truth about his feelings for her.

Part of him doesn't understand why he doesn't outright say it. With every other girl he once showed interest in, he had no issues in letting them know he wanted them, but this is different. This isn't simply wanting someone, he thinks he's fallen for her. But whenever he says he's gonna grow a pair and tell her after all this time, he chokes. Involuntarily, he's reminded of his parents. Other than his friends saying it platonically, the only people to tell him they loved him were them, and with how they treated him, he sure as hell doesn't think that is love.

From his dad's brutal physical abuse to his mom's abandonment, he's too timid to tell her he loves her because of what could happen if she loves him back. Everyone else that has said that to him has either hurt him, died like John B did, or abandoned him.

He won't let that happen with him and Y/N. What they have, albeit undefined and codependent, is safe. It's the only thing he has left. Maybe it isn't right, and maybe he should open up about it to communicate the correct way, but somewhere in the misshapen logic of his mind, he correlates love to abandonment. And he doesn't want that to happen with her.

There are two sides of him at battle inside his mind. One side, the side that wants to do right by their relationship and actually communicate his feelings for once in his life, wants him to tell her everything. The other side, the side that responds based on the history of his past, wants him to hide it all.

"Will you be mad at me if we don't call it a date?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

The heavy sensation inside of JJ's chest nears a point of vitriolic violence against him as he starts to realize what he's doing to her, clearly letting her down, but he can't stop himself. Like a passive witness watching himself from outside of his body, the instantaneous trauma response to the sudden confrontation of his true feelings for her guides his actions without his permission. It shuts down any protest he has.

The sound of the movie fills the gap of silence between them the entire time. It’s a variety of bloodcurdling screams and disgusting sounds that would've made him gag if he weren't as distracted.

They can make out each other's faces through the darkness, but barely. It takes a flash of bright color from the film or a nearby car's lights turning on for them to fully see one another. Without the other knowing, they both put masks of calm and collected coolness on their faces despite the feelings raging beneath the surface—more so on his part than hers.

"Maybe," he says, pausing, "we should just keep things the way they've been."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a soul-crushing amount of disappointment weighs her down. She said it was fine if he doesn't want it to be a date—and it is, she would never hold it against him—but that doesn't mean it can't hurt her. Things have been going so well, she almost thought...If tonight went well, she was thinking about no longer keeping it a secret, but if he said he wants things to stay the same, then maybe he isn't as ready for it as she is?

Meanwhile, JJ is on another page entirely.

She's embarrassed of being with you, a familiar voice in the back of his head croons. She's gonna leave just like everyone else does. If she doesn't even wanna tell your friends, why should you pretend you're dating?

The internal comments are the type that cause him to physically grimace when he's alone. Intrusive thoughts are just that: intrusive.

Sneaking into the guarded sanctuary of a person's mind, they set out to convince them the opposite of their reality. The only thing is, where most people's minds are guarded sanctuaries with walls of impregnable defense, his mind is the equivalent of a fortress blown to smithereens. The castle walls lay in rubble, the guards no where to be seen, and the path for these thoughts to slip past and straight to the vulnerability of his mind is left wide open.

In the privacy of his room, these thoughts attack him the most at night when he tries to fall asleep—when things get too quiet. With nobody around, when they get this bad there's nothing he can do except break down. It builds from the mere anxiety of attempting to force the thoughts away to full-blown panic attack mode. The more he resists them, the more aggressive they become. He'll gasp for air with tears streaming down his face, hitting his head with the heel of his hand as if that'd do something to stop his relentless mind.

But he can't afford to react in front of her, so the extent of his reaction is a subtle twitch of his face that she cannot see in the momentary darkness before the movie switches to another scene a second later. In a way, it does make the thoughts go away to have her here preventing him from spiraling alone. Having to focus on her keeps his mind away for moments at a time until the thoughts ease their grip on him.

When she hasn't answered for a while, he asks, terrified that he did something bad, "Are we good?"

The question seems to wake her up, snapping her out of the lonely direction her thoughts went into when he "rejected" her. It takes every bit of common sense she has left to force herself to understand that this doesn't mean he doesn't want her. He does, and not calling this a date doesn't mean they won't be together in the way they have been since John B's death, but she isn't perfect. She gets as unsure and insecure as he does.

As if the cloud of doom was lifted off of her, she makes her face lighten where she lays on her side next to him. Seeing this expression makes his chest feel less heavy, and he could let out a sigh of relief at the realization that he didn't break her heart and stomp on it. He should've known. Y/N is the sweetest person he knows, so she never would've flipped shit over him not wanting to label this as a date. That's not how she is.

And he's partly right. It isn't how she is. She would never hold it against him if he didn't want something further with her since she got herself into this position by pursuing him with his reputation with girls in mind, but she can't ignore it. Whether she wants it to or not, it had its affect on her as soon as he said it.

She leans in to kiss him, their lips meeting in the middle with the faint taste of popcorn salt mingling at the soft peck.

When she pulls away, she brushes the hair back from his face and says, "Don't worry. Nothing can change how I feel about you."

She has no clue what it feels like to hear that from her.

Despite the turmoil they unknowingly share beneath the surface due to this conversation, he could cry hearing her say it. It doesn't feel real to him that she feels the same way he does about her, because nothing could change how he feels about her either. That’s why he manages to work up the courage to repeat it back to her, and, for now, this is the closest he's physically capable of coming to telling her the truth.

"Ditto," he says.

It isn't what she wanted, but it's close enough, and if she dwells on this any longer, she might start getting too emotional and let the urge to tear up become too strong. Why does she have to be this sensitive? It's no secret that it's remarkably easy to make her cry, but this is insane to her. When all of this began with him, she didn't give a shit about him not wanting a label. She understood him, and she understood that he doesn't do this kind of thing, so why has it changed? Why doesn't she want to keep it a secret anymore? Why does she want this to be a date when she knows he doesn't want it to be?

Pulled by an invisible string back to him to silence her mind, she leans in to kiss him again with a hand cupping the back of his neck to guide him the rest of the way to her.

It shouldn't be laced with any sexual intention. She should be kissing him simply because she wants to, and, in a way, she is. Their kisses and touches are never lacking the motivation that is their underlying connection and mutual feelings for one another, but this is not the same. As he kisses her back with as much confidence and passion as always, she is reeling from the conversation that reminded her too much of a breakup.

It takes another minute of this for the kiss to heat up, their breathing becoming shallower in the moments they part to inhale, and she is undeniably the one instigating when she officially crosses the line between casual and sexual by crawling onto his lap. It's not hard for him to pick up on when their innocent moments take a turn. She's easy to read in that regard, and this has happened a multitude of times with them, so the shift of a mini make out session turning into something more is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

If he knew how shaken she is on the inside, he'd never want this. And the same would go for her if she knew what he was thinking before this. Neither of them wants to admit what they're feeling.

With her legs seated on either side of his hips, she kisses him like it's the last time she'll ever get the opportunity to. Her hands wander wherever they can, pulling at his shirt and feeling him up as his hands guide her hips to move against his in a steady grinding that she has no issue partaking in. It's an eagerness he hasn't seen from her in weeks. She's never un-excited when it comes to being physical with him either, but this is another level. The last time a girl was all over him like this, it was desperate touron at a party a few months ago.

In the span of time it takes her to glance over her shoulder to see if anyone could see them and reach to pull her skirt up until it bunches around her hips—no one can see them, by the way, since they got here late and were forced to cram the van into the back corner of the lot with no street lights illuminating the path—his brows raise at her presumptuous behavior. Not that he's one to complain, however, seeing as he's typically the one doing what she is.

Their next kiss clashes their teeth hard enough to make them wince, but he loves it. It makes him smirk into her parted mouth, alive with both the feeling her reassurance provided and the fuzzy-headed high that often finds him when they're together in this way. Incomparable to past flings or the high related to any drugs, she is the peak of everything to him. It's no contest.

His chest stutters against hers with a bout of amused laughter, asking within a brief pause in what feels like the most JJ thing he's said this awkward night, "Two for two in the Twinkie. What's gotten into you?"

Y/N's hand dips between where their bodies move together to unclasp the closed buckle of his belt in one smooth motion that has it falling apart with a clinking noise.

Her features are set with a look that tells him she means business. Whatever it is that sparked this, he wonders how the fuck to make it happen again another time. She's begged for it before, but never taken control so dominantly, and he can't deny what the role reversal does to him. The evidence is obvious in the distinct hardness she feels pressing up against the hand undoing his jeans.

"I was hoping it'd be you," she says, voice breathless and airy from the constant contact in a way that makes it ten times hotter for him.

If there were any chance of him not being in the mood prior to this, which wasn't the case anyway, it's gone now. He never wants to hear her say she doesn't deliberately try to tease him ever again.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

JJ surges forward to capture her mouth with his, this time with no intention of pulling away to breathe or speak again. No, he'll let himself get lightheaded and dizzy if it means he can stay with her for as long as possible.

With the circumstances of it all, them being visible to someone if they happened to pass by the open door of the van, they move at a pace quicker than usual. She's immediately helping him shimmy his jeans and underwear far enough down his hips to free his dick from the confines of his clothes, making him sigh out a breath of relief when her hand brushes against him in the process.

There's no opportunity to slow down, it has exploded into a full-throttle speed race that neither of them can halt.

His hand blindly flies out beside him to grope the floor of the van for the set of keys he tossed carelessly to the side once the movie started, eyes shut in the midst of the hot, messy kiss they share. His fingers find the fabric of one of the blankets they brought in case they got cold, then drifts again and lands on her Big Bird sneakers until he feels the sharp metal of her keys meet his calloused palm.

After the events of last summer, she bought a switch blade to keep on her key ring alongside the keys to the van, HMS Pogue, and Chateau. She may not like violence or weapons, seeing as she was a skeptic of JJ keeping the gun alongside her friends, but she saw it necessary. Between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, how could she leave the safety of her and her friends up to chance knowing what some of the kooks did to them not long ago? What happened to Pope on the golf course alone was enough to make her skin crawl.

Right now, though, the knife flips out from the pressure of his thumb pushing the button to release it. He holds it out away from her at first to assure it doesn't nick her in the process, then uses his other hand to tug the side of her panties that hugs her hip far out enough to press the sharp side of the blade onto the inside of it.

She can hardly believe what she's watching as JJ cuts the delicate maroon underthings from her body as if he were doing something so normal, like it's something he's done before. Her forehead is pressed against his, her mouth parted both in shock and in a need to pant for oxygen, and she watches the knife ruin her favorite panties. The stitches come apart with a satisfying ripping noise that can hardly be heard over the sound of people reacting to the movie in the background.

Other customers of the Cherry Bowl Drive-In are too glued to the screen as a beloved character is chased down, reacting in shouts when she's seized by the killer and shoved onto the table of an industrial bread slicer, so they remain wholly unnoticed.

The lace, now ripped in half, dangles on the tip of the knife when he lifts it away from her, tosses it aside, and presses the button once more to retract the blade. It clatters to the floor, but is in no way forgotten with them resuming in a desperation to keep going until they both satisfy the need clawing at them from the inside. But her sense of need is different from his, and even with the fresh memory of him with the switch blade in mind, she's still somewhere else the whole time.

Her mind is faraway, muted through layers of sadness, anger, and disappointment as he reaches between them to line himself up to her entrance. The sensation of him running his cock, hard and messy with a few drops of precome, through her dripping pussy to coat it in her slick arousal is enough to make her moan pathetically. Yet when he's about to guide himself inside of her, she stops him.

"Wait, wait, wait," she breathes out rapidly, heart pounding so hard she can feel herself pulsating between her thighs, "Condom."

They were so antsy to get to it, they almost forgot.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, and his eyes flicker from where they were trained between their bodies to glance back and forth around the van before it hits him. "I lost my wallet..."

But right when he thinks their public rendezvous in the back of the Drive-In is over due to his unfortunate mistake, she shakes her head and slips away from her perch astride his lap to crawl over to her bag.

She fumbles with the old tote bag and plunges her arm in to sift through the hodge podge of things that are purely Y/N in nature—stickers, glitter pens, a half-eaten bag of candy, etc—for the square foil package she decided to toss in before she left just in case. She usually doesn't keep them on her because he never fails to have one, but, thankfully, she had the random instinct to bring it tonight.

The only thing to bring her out of her cloudy, malevolent storm of feelings when she settles back onto his lap with the condom wrapper ripped open for him is him saying, "So you planned this, huh?" with his mouth tipped in a familiar self-satisfied grin.

She didn't plan it. In fact, she threw herself at him the second she sensed him withdrawing from her and can't stop herself despite the fact that she constantly feels two seconds away from letting a tear slip down her cheek. If that counts as "planning it", then sure.

"Maybe so," she answers, cool, calm, and collected—the antithesis of the truth.

They usually don't lie to each other.

They're thrown right back into it without any other hiccups once he rolls the condom on, and he takes in a shaky breath at her hand wrapping around him to align their bodies up. Before she can do anything, though, he takes chance to swipe the blanket he found a moment ago and wrap it around her back to keep her covered in case they get caught.

Y/N sinks down onto his cock with her lip caught between her teeth to stifle the sound that threatens to escape. JJ, on the other hand, doesn't bother concealing the sound of the groan he makes at the sensation of having her wrapped around him like this. The tension in her entire body from the anticipation and the looming threat of being seen by someone has her squeezing him so tightly, he can't help but be a little louder than he should.

Her soft palm slaps over his mouth with enough pressure to force his groan to quiet itself, and she watches his pretty blue eyes widen in reaction to the dominant action. Who is this girl and what has she done with his sweet, submissive Y/N? Don't get him wrong, he is very turned on by it, but it's unlike her to take the lead this way. He can't figure it out.

"What's wrong, angel?" she asks in a whisper into his ear, her hand over his mouth and her hips starting to slowly rock against him, "Watch the movie."

Once the words leave her mouth, she drops her hand, just in case he wants to stop and can't say anything because she had his mouth covered, and JJ is pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven.

He doesn't watch the movie, not at all, because he's too busy watching her. For someone losing their mind internally, she does not let it show, nor does she let it distract her from what's happening. If anything, the distraction in this situation is the sex, not what's going on inside of her head.

There's a moment of adjustment and going as slowly and gently as possible while waiting for the dull pressure of feeling him inside of her to fade away, but, for the most part, she doesn't waste any time. As soon as she feels comfortable enough with the ache between her thighs giving way to a spark of pleasure when she grinds her clit down on his pubic bone, she starts to ride him at a better pace than the initial slow movements of her hips.

She raises herself up and takes him again inch by inch, enjoying the sense of fullness she gets from having to fit him in spite of the slight discomfort at first, and she could swear that he'll leave bruises in the shape of his handprints with how tightly he clutches her hips. It's all he can do to prevent himself from moaning or saying something, ever the vocal lover she's come to know.

Unless his mouth is preoccupied like it was on the beach yesterday afternoon, JJ is usually impossible to shut up, especially in this context. With him always whispering dirty things to her, whether it be praises, pet names, or plans on what he wants to do to her, she has come to find it breathtakingly hot. He could likely get away with saying something if he wanted to, but he isn't sure he wants to risk it. If he opens his mouth to spew something filthy to her, he won't trust himself not to make a louder, different kind of noise that won't fit in the with background audio the other moviegoers are listening to.

The wet sound of their bodies colliding that fills the space of the van is drowned out by the loud and violent sequence occurring on the screen far ahead of them, and hearing it makes her bounce herself on him a little harder. She's fueled on by it all, and, strangely, what happened before she practically pounced on him is the main contributor.

Similarly to the nature of his intrusive thoughts, the harder she resists the memory of how it felt when he told her he didn't want this to be a date, the more forceful it is in its return. Her eyes trail down to watch where they connect with her forehead pressed to his, then she's thrown back into the feeling of helpless disappointment and insecurity. His head tips back against the window with his bottom lip dropped open and his brows furrowed just enough to create a crease on his forehead, and she's bombarded with the look of relief on his face when he realized he didn't have to be tied down to her with a label.

It makes her want to get rougher, harder, and she doesn't even care if it'll make her sore later on. She presses herself down so far every time she slides down on his cock, her teeth draw blood on her lip with how hard she must bite it to remain quiet. The pain of her hipbones rubbing against his doesn't even matter to either of them at this point. They're both too lost in the pleasure that has begun to take control of them to care about something as minuscule as that, or the burn in her thighs from the repetitive physical strain.

She grabs his wrist and brings his hand between them, flattening hers overtop of it and pressing down on the base of her abdomen in the midst of the increasingly feverish thrusts.

"Feel you here," she murmurs to him through a quiet moan, hoping he can hear it over the movie, and pushes down on his hand for emphasis. And if the way he reacts by cursing under his breath tells her anything, it's that he picked up on it. "JJ..."

He reaches out to grab her by the throat with his free hand and tug her forward to kiss him, as if something inside of him snapped in response to her doing that. The motions of her jolting up and down throws the already messy and uncoordinated kiss off-kilter, but they don't mind. It has them separating every time she lifts up, producing this heady little head rush from from them breathing in each other's air without actually letting their mouths meet in the middle.

Though they're trying their hardest not to alert anyone outside of what's happening, it didn't occur to him until now, when his eyes catch John B's old bandana swinging back and forth where it's secured around the rear view mirror.

They're worried about moaning while the entire fucking Twinkie is rocking with their movements. Well, at least it makes good use of the corny sticker he gifted John B last year as a gag gift. He tried to peel it off after JJ snuck it onto the side window to no avail. So, now Y/N is stuck with a sticker on her car reading, "If the van's a-rockin', come on in, we like orgies," rather than the more common phrase.

It almost makes him start laughing, and he prays no one takes that shit seriously, 'cause he is never intent on sharing this breathtaking girl. Ever.

Y/N isn't anywhere near laughing like he is, in fact, she's finding it difficult to keep herself together. She feels her eyes sting with the promise of tears, and she's never felt so pathetic before. Is she seriously about to cry during sex? Is she really that girl that is so ill-equipped to handle rejection, she can't get through it without tears?

She won't cry. Perhaps if he sees how glossy her eyes have become in a rare moment of good lighting, she can blame it on the hand around her throat putting pressure on the sides of her neck.

The worst part about her being near to crying is the timing of it.

The emotion of what she feels mentally mixes with the swirling, building sensation she feels in the pit of her stomach that tells her she's close to going over the edge, and it's so overwhelming. Was she imagining that their friendship had changed? More importantly, is this all she'll ever be to him? Sex is the only thing she's sure of with him, it's the only thing that doesn't require deeper emotions, and when the ground beneath their fragile relationship felt shaky...

He can feel her starting to unravel, and he knows that he'll come before she does if he doesn't do anything now, so he decides to take control.

JJ pulls the hand he had resting on her abdomen away as though he were burned by it, wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her body against his and using the hand around her neck for leverage to thrust up into her, effectively reducing her to a teary-eyed, moaning mess atop him. They both stopped caring about making noise the second he began to fuck her like this.

She cries out in ecstasy at the sudden change in pace and depth that has him hitting all the right places. Every time he thrusts up into her, just as rough as she wished for, the tip of his cock nudges into that perfect spot inside of her that makes her incapable of silencing her moans. This time, it's JJ that puts his hand over her mouth, letting the one he had around her neck move away to keep her from alerting everyone around them of what's happening.

There's nothing she can do to stop her climax as it barrels through her in its initial sweeping wave of bliss to contrast the venomous doubts in her mind. She's never felt such conflicting, yet powerful feelings before—the intensity of the physical pleasure that makes her whine into the palm of his hand, then the part of her mind replaying every word he said in their conversation before this.

Her body is rigid and tense through it all, squeezing down around his cock with the involuntary spasms of her orgasm, and he can't help himself anymore. All it takes are a few more frantic thrusts for him to bury himself inside of her one last time and spill into the condom, uncovering her mouth so he can drown out his own groans into a kiss.

Their skin sticks to their clothes on the inside with sweat from the exertion of their actions, and he can feel her stomach tremble where it presses up against his with each undulation of her hips that meet his as he rides it out.

But even with the added distraction of the sex, she can't rid herself of the feeling that started plaguing her as soon as things went awry. That was why he was acting weird all night. He must have been so worried about her thinking this was anything more than their typical hangouts that he couldn't bring himself to act normally.

She forces herself to look happy when they pull away from the kiss, panting, and JJ, unaware of what she's been thinking, doesn't notice the small deception.

Tag list: @gabiatthedisco

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #obx s2 #uh oh trouble in paradise #anyway that smut #kinda wanna get railed by JJ in the back of the van #don’t we all?

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avengers-age-of-fanfics · 3 years

Text

just for you, honeybee (6/?)

pairing: steve rogers x reader (platonic), natasha romanoff x reader (platonic), bruce banner x reader (y/n is a big fan of his), tony stark x reader, bucky barnes x reader

warnings: mention of bucky, fighting, training, mention of guns, takes place during The Avengers

words: 3,359

a/n: part 6! i honestly don't know how long this series will be, but i think i may end it at either endgame or TFATWS. so basically going through all the movies lmao, but skipping over a few. i just want honeybee and bucky to be happy but gotta add some angst.

Transitioning into a new world, the year of 2011, was no easy feat, and you appreciated Director Fury being somewhat patient and honest about how much has changed. Him, and apparently one of your biggest ‘fans,’ Phil Coulson, have been the most helpful with your adjustment, teaching you all about the new technology and supplying you with a new phone, courtesy of S.H.I.E.L.D.

However, along the way, were a few speedbumps. You and Steve trained consistently in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s gym, almost leaving no room for sleep or taking proper care of yourselves. You both knew it was terrible, you should be looking out for one another, but the loss and confusion overran your needs to live a normal life. However, over time, he seemed to adjust better than you, as expected. Even though Steve had only been awake a few months before you, he jumped right back into the new world.

For you and Steve, the both of you had seen Bucky a few weeks ago; you had seen Steve a few minutes ago, from the time you had woken up. To everyone else in the world, including Steve, however, that was history, a moment written in textbooks ages ago; and for Captain Rogers, that moment was months ago.

In your mind, you deserved to release your anger out on some punching bags.

It had taken Director Fury and Agent Coulson a while until they shared the news to you and Steve, that Peggy was alive. They had claimed that since they found Steve, high hopes were in store for finding you, hence saving off on telling him beforehand. Steve had immediately wanted to see her but you hesitated; what would Peggy say to the both of you? How would she react to you both being alive? No matter, Steve had begged you to come along to visit Peg and you caved, giving him some time with her before he called you in.

Peggy’s eyes lit up, “y/n, you’re alive! Sweetheart…”

You smiled, pulling up a chair next to her, “hey, Peggy. How’s the strongest woman alive doin’?”

She sighed, grasping your hand, “better…much better. Howard never stopped looking for you, the both of you. He’d be so happy to see you.”

You sucked in a breath as her eyes turned glossy, “we know, Pegs. We know.”

She held back her tears as she continued, “he had a son, Anthony; just as stubborn but smart as Howard. You’d love him.”

Steve chuckled, “sounds like a handful.”

Peggy laughed before falling into a coughing fit, turning away for a few seconds. After regaining her breath, she turned towards you and Steve, “Steve! Y/N! You – you’re both alive; you came back!”

Steve gave a sad smile as your face fell, “yeah, Peggy, we did…”

Steve’s eyes teared up, “I couldn’t leave my best girl; not when she owes me a dance.”

Over time, the visits to Peggy became too much and you needed to rest. So, with little convincing to Director Fury, you found yourself in a small cabin in Bozeman, Montana, with frequent visits by both Coulson and your new female friend, Natasha Romanoff. At first, you hated the idea of someone visiting you during your time to reflect, but once you realized that she wanted to help you train and become used to your super serum abilities, you appreciated the company.

You barely had any time to adjust to your newfound strength, among other things, and you slowly became grateful that Natasha had joined you over the course of a few months. Sure, sometimes she was so nosy and bossy, waking you up in the ungodly hours of the morning to train, but she had slowly become one of your closest friends.

Honestly, some days it felt as if you just met Natasha the day before:

You stood in Fury’s office, arms crossed, as he stood adjacent to you, Coulson awkwardly standing beside him. “Why are you sending a babysitter to a place where I am supposed to be, oh, I don’t know, relaxing? Reflecting?”

Director Fury grumbled for the umpteenth time, “because, Agent L/N, you never know when the day will come where we will need you and Rogers, along with your special abilities. You are unskilled in hand-in-hand combat, among other areas in defense, and it’d be nice to enhance our agents.”

You uncrossed your arms, still very pissed off, “I don’t want them to visit me every day. That’s my one condition. I need time, Nick; I feel like I haven’t properly…taken everything in. I just want time to myself.”

Phil spoke up beside Fury, “and we respect that, Y/N, we truly do. But we hope you also see where we are coming from. Natasha Romanoff is very skilled in her profession and understands your situation – you’re in good hands.”

“Phil, you’re making me blush,” a female monotonous voice spoke.

Whipping your head around, you were met with a beautiful redhead who definitely seemed like an Agent, someone who meant all business. You’d learn later on that was just a façade.

“I- Y/N L/N, you must be Agent Romanoff,” you said, holding out your hand.

Natasha grinned, shaking your hand in hers, “just call me Nat, Agent sounds too formal. I look forward to seeing what that super soldier serum truly did to you.”

Apparently, not too much as she continuously kicked your ass in combat.

Training with Natasha was, well, with your lack of combat, embarrassing. You had your ass handed to you so many times, it was a bit pathetic – but she always told you that you were improving. You used your heightened senses to your advantage, listening to her footsteps and figuring out what move she intended to use next. You hesitated to use your strength at first, but with continued training, you knew Nat could handle it.

With Nat, you also became very skilled in shooting handguns, rifles, the whole nine. Your aim was impeccable and target training was becoming a breeze. The thought of shooting someone terrified you at first, but when Nat reminded you that hesitation could get you killed, you understood – there was no room for mistakes.

During your stay in Montana, you kept in touch with Steve, but only through short texts. He was not thrilled with you leaving him, but he understood where you were coming from; you needed to mourn but also keep busy, careful to not fall into a dark abyss. Fury kept you updated, telling you that he had pushed himself into training continuously and visiting Peggy all he could. You knew seeing Peg was doing Steve no good whatsoever, and your heart ached...but at least he got to see his long love.

Nat had been there when Bucky’s birthday passed, holding you as you cried, unable to leave your bed the day of and a few after. She held you as you yelled at the sky for taking away the most important person in your life, leaving you so alone. She knew you had Steve, but it wasn’t the same – you needed Bucky. But she also knew by letting you cry, your emotions out of your body, you’d feel so much more at peace.

And she was right.

Natasha also told you about Howard's son, Anthony, and from what you saw on the news, that was definitely Howard's kid. Tony was arrogant, self-absorbed, but did what he thought was right. After his declaration of being Iron Man, you followed Tony all over the internet, but hearing first hand from Natasha of the man that Tony was...Howard would be proud. You wished to meet him, you did, but something pulled at your heart, telling you that Tony probably hated you for taking his dad from him, forcing Howard to become obsessed with finding you and Steve and thus, costing him his life.

Natasha told you he might see you in that light, yes, but if you ever got to know Tony, he'd warm up.

You weren’t healed and you still weren’t okay, but you were…better. You hated whatever being there was in the sky for taking your James, but you came to terms with it. But the one thing you were so resentful about was the fact that there was no body, no funeral for him.

Becca hated that, too.

You had visited her in her old age, just like Peggy, and the two of you held hands as you talked about James and Steve – your boys. She had missed you so much, just like she missed Jamie, and she understood your pain the best. She had tried to encourage a search party for him, to have some closure, but the government refused. He was gone, and they couldn’t send more men to find a disfigured body.

You hated thinking about that, what James would look like. It haunted you in your nightmares, waking you up in the wee hours of the morning, his frostbitten body staring right back at you. Phil had found you a morning after such nightmare, sitting on your porch in nothing but an oversized shirt and a blanket around your shoulders, cheeks wet with fresh tears.

You sniffled once more, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, watching as a black car parked into your dirt driveway. The car opened and Phil Coulson emerged, as expected - on time for your monthly visits. Hugging onto the blanket tighter, you shivered against the cold air, hoping Phil would just leave upon noticing your state.

He did the exact opposite.

Phil took off his jacket, resting it upon your shoulders even though you had the blanket. You sniffled, inhaling his scent, and hugged the jacket closer, feeling Phil take a seat next to you on your wooden bench.

"I always found snow to be soft, almost like a cloud, falling down upon it when James and I would make snow angels," you began. A shiver ran down your spine as you continued, "but now, I can't help but think of his body just...plopping onto the ground so roughly that he was hurting, still alive, yelling out for anyone and..."

Phil ran his hand over your head, brushing your hair back, "freezing."

You glanced to Phil, "freezing to...to death. He must've been so scared, I-"

Phil shushed you as the tears formed, "no what if's, y/n. He's safe now - that's what matters most. You're okay, and so is he."

Your bottom lip trembled as you held onto the dog tags, nodding to Phil's words, "you're right, as always."

Phil gave a tight smile, "let's go inside and heat up some milk, 'm getting tired myself." Coulson held your hand for the rest of the night.

Trying to convince yourself to get some closure, you told yourself that the next time you were in Washington D.C., you’d visit the museum and read all about Bucky, all that he had done, and see the amazed looks of citizens who saw him as a hero. Your James Barnes was a hero to so many people, including yourself, and you should be able to celebrate his goodness from when he was alive.

You were going to go the next day until Director Fury knocked on your door at 2:30 in the morning, holding a file labeled “CLASSIFIED.”

You raised an eyebrow, “couldn’t have given me this at a decent time?”

He narrowed his good eye, “it’s urgent, didn’t have time for formalities, your highness.”

With a snort, you grabbed the folder from his hands, “glad you know how to properly address me. What time do we leave?”

Fury tilted his head toward the quinjet, directing your eyes toward Steve who stood alongside Natasha, “once you get dressed, Agent. You’ll have time to look over the file in the jet.”

You weren’t sure why you got dressed so fast; seeing Steve for the first time in about 6 months, finally going on a mission, or just getting some new sense of scenery. Either way, you engulfed Steve in a hug and he laid a hand on the back of your head, “hey, honeybee.”

Your heart ached whenever he called you that, but you figured it was one of the last things he could hold onto Bucky as his dog tags laid against your chest, “hey, Stevie. So, what’s the deal?”

Reading over the file while Nat gave more information about Clint – someone else who you had grown quite close to – you grew confused. You looked to Steve, “the Tesseract. That’s the blue cube that…disintegrated Schmidt, right?”

Steve nodded, “looks like Howard recovered it and it’s been in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s hands since, but this guy, Loki, wants something to do with it – Hydra’s secret weapon.”

Fury spoke up from the front of the jet, “that scepter he has, it controls the minds of anyone it touches, including one of my sharpest agents. The Tesseract could be the key to unlimited sustainable energy – that’s something the world sorely needs. Falls into the wrong hands, well…”

You shook your head, “you shoulda left it in the ocean.”

Silence overtook the quinjet until Phil came over to your seat, sitting beside you, “I’d like you to come along to recruit another member, if you don’t mind.”

You gave a small smile to Phil, “um, yeah, that’s fine. Where we goin’ and who are we recruiting, Coulson?”

Phil seemed a bit nervous as he spared a glance to Nat, who nodded her head, “Tony Stark, Iron Man.”

You sucked in a breath, “Howard’s son? You want me to come along?”

Phil laid his own hand upon yours that rested in your lap, file forgotten about, “I do, and I hope you wouldn’t mind tagging along.”

Holding back your tears, you nodded, “yeah, yeah, I’ll come. When do we leave?”

“Once we land in D.C., we’ll take a quick trip to New York. Easy car ride.”

You squinted your eyes, “isn’t that like, a 6-hour drive?”

Phil gave an uneasy smile, “not with me driving, we’ll be there in 2.”

You chuckled, “as long as I get there alive, I don’t really care how we get there.”

In all honesty, the drive to Stark Tower was relatively calm, save for swerving through traffic and going way too fast for your liking. Once you arrived, you and Phil talked to the impressive AI named JARVIS who told you both that he was informing Mr. Stark of your arrival.

“Impressive Artificial Intelligence,” you whispered to Phil, “definitely Howard's kid.”

Phil was about to respond until JARVIS spoke up, “Mr. Stark is not in, Agent Coulson.”

Your friend pursed his lips together, “please tell Tony that this is urgent and we need to speak. Now.”

Very quickly, Tony ignored your calls until Phil hacked into the system, overriding JARVIS and his protocols. Phil spoke into the phone, pulling you inside the elevator, “Mr. Stark, we need to talk.”

Tony sighed on the other line, “you have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark. Please leave a message.”

Phil rolled his eyes, causing you to let out a snort, along with Pepper Potts on the other line, “this is urgent, Tony.”

You and Phil stood in the elevator, about to reach his floor as Tony responded, “then leave it urgently.” Right on cue, the elevator doors opened and Tony held up his glass of champagne, “security breach, it’s on you.”

Tony’s eyes glanced over your figure as you stood beside Phil, Pepper getting up from the floor to greet him, “Phil! Come in. I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met yet, Miss?”

You smiled at Pepper, meeting her halfway and shaking her hand, “Agent Y/N L/N, Miss Potts.”

Tony stood beside Pepper, “the infamous Miss America, Cap’s sidekick. How’s S.H.I.E.L.D. treating you? Always annoying you with something, barging in without your knowledge, telling you that you've been asleep for 70 years?”

Phil spoke for you, “I’m afraid we can’t stay. We need you to look this over as soon as possible.”

Tony shook his head, “I don’t like being handed things.”

You let out a chuckle as Pepper took the folder, “that’s fine, because I love to be handed things. So, let’s trade.” With a quick switch of hands, Pepper gave Tony the folder as she handed Phil the glass of champagne, “thank you. Anything for you, Y/N?”

You shook your head, “no thank you, Miss Potts.”

You took a moment to look Tony over. Peggy was not kidding – he looked exactly like Howard, and certainly acted like him, too. They had the same eyes, the same face, and the same attitude; it was almost like looking at a clone of Howard. Your eyes filled with unshed tears but you pushed them back, taking a small breath as Phil continued, “this is not a consultation.”

Pepper’s eyes grew wide, “is this about the Avengers? Which I know nothing about.” She looked guilty once the words slipped.

Tony sighed as he walked away, opening up the folder and looking through it quickly, “the Avengers initiative was scrapped, I thought – and I didn’t even qualify.”

Pepper shrugged, “I didn’t know that, either.”

Tony continued, “apparently I’m volatile, self-obsessed, don’t play well with others.”

You mumbled, “kind of like Howard.” Tony pointed his finger towards you as he nodded, “and she speaks of him!”

Pepper nodded her head, “that I did know,” ignoring his comment towards you.

Phil shifted his weight, “this isn’t about personality profiles anymore.”

Tony grunted, “whatever. Ms. Potts, got a second?”

As the two were talking, screens were lit up of you, Steve, and others fighting, and you stumbled back with a slight gasp, still new to the whole holographic stuff of technology. Phil turned towards you, asking you if you were okay with a look, and you nodded. Pepper looked towards you both and back to Tony, whispering, “maybe while working on this, you can get to know her. Get to know your dad. I’ll take the jet to D.C. tonight. You have homework – a lot of homework.”

The two kissed before Pepper headed your way, “so, any chance you two are driving by LaGuardia?”

Phil nodded, “I can drop you.” Pepper smiled, “fantastic!”

The two began to walk towards the elevator as you looked on at Tony who held a holographic Tesseract in his hand. In that moment, your brain convinced yourself that was Howard, your Howie.

Tony turned towards you, “you joining them or you just gonna stare?”

You took a step back, a frown on your face as you mumbled an apology, meeting Pepper and Phil in the elevator. Pepper turned your way as the doors closed, “I’m sorry about him. When it comes to his dad and you, he gets a bit…”

You finished her sentence, “jealous. He missed out on a lot and I can imagine Howard spent too much time talking about me or Steve instead of him. I understand.”

Pepper gave a tight smile.

In a few short hours, you, Phil, Steve, and a few other S.H.I.E.L.D agents were on your way to the helicarrier, something that only a few of you knew about. You sat next to Steve, looking over Dr. Bruce Banner’s files, examining videos of him as Hulk, and how he was trying to recreate the super soldier serum. You had known about Dr. Banner and honestly, had become one of his fans – when he was in his human form, of course. His works on nuclear physics and gamma radiation greatly interested you and upon reading many of his published articles, you had completely forgotten about his condition. Having the opportunity to meet him in person was certainly one of your dreams and you just knew Bucky was making fun of you for being such a dork.

Phil stood up from his seat, walking towards you and Steve, leaning above you both. Steve looked to Phil, “this Dr. Banner was trying to replicate the serum they used on me?”

Phil nodded, “after Howard Stark’s death in 1991, Dr. Banner made it his mission to replicate it. A lot of people were. You – you both – were the world’s first superheroes. Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine’s original formula.”

Steve looked uneasy, “didn’t really go his way, did it?”

Phil shifted his weight as he looked towards you, then to Steve, “not so much. When he’s not that thing, though,” you interrupted him with a glare, “sorry, the Hulk, the guy’s like a Stephen Hawking.”

Steve looked to you, confusion written on his face. You shrugged, “a really smart person.”

Silence enveloped the three of you until you nodded to Phil, urging him to continue. Phil seemed all giddy, “I gotta say, it’s an honor to meet you officially. I’ve sort of met you, I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping.”

You snorted as Steve nervously smiled at Phil, covering your face as he continued, “I mean, I was present while you were unconscious from the ice.” Steve stood up as you continued laughing, making his way to the front of the jet, “you know, it’s just a huge honor to have you on board this.”

You followed Phil, clapping him on the back as Steve overlooked the ocean, “thank you for that, Phil, truly.”

Steve elbowed you as he mumbled, “I hope we’re the people for the job.”

Phil’s eyes lit up, “oh, you are – you both are, absolutely! We, uh, made some modifications to your suits, by the way.”

You glanced towards Phil – now this was what you missed.

honeybee taglist:

@clownerlyluv

@ginger-swag-rapunzel

@starkleila

@intothesoul

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miss-smutty · 3 years

Text

The Destructive Secret - Chapter 1

A/N- So first of all, extremely mature themes, strictly 18+ only This is my baby, I love it and I'm so excited for it but oh my lord! My poor heart writing this. This is going to be a super angsty series. Since I got the idea I've been desperate to get it written, even though it's going to break my heart. The dynamics of it have been driving me insane because I want the first chapter to have a air of mystery to it but then how do I tag it without giving it away? 😩 So I've purposefully left out names in this chapter so you don't know who's who and all will be revealed in good time. Can you work out what's happening? I'd love to hear your thoughts ❤️

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Summary- You've got a secret to hide and it's going to cause complete and utter destruction.

Word count- 2,197

Warnings- Mature themes, swearing, smut, angst, deceit, lies

18+ only!

Taglist-: @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke

Posted: 25th Feb 2021

"Babe, don't hate me... I have to go out of town for another conference this weekend" The deep confliction you feel everytime you do this to your boyfriend, never gets any easier.

"I don't hate you, we'll make up for it next week. How about a little romantic trip, just the two of us" he says sweetly, making your heart tug, you wish he was a bad guy it would make this a lot easier.

"That sounds like a great plan, I'll make it up to you tonight" you say, distracted by your thoughts.

"Well that sounds... Intriguing. I'll see you tonight babe" he hung up the phone but you kept it to your ear, still deep in thought before finally realising and putting the phone on the desk next to your computer.

You finished typing up the letter you were working on before the phone call, looking back and forth from your phone to the screen of your computer, still distracted by your thoughts. The butterflies in your stomach making you feel sick. You gave in and grabbed your phone, typing out a text quickly.

-I've told him. Pick me up from work at 5.30 Friday - you stop typing to think for a minute, before finishing the text with two kisses - xx

You try to get your head back into work, the neverending pile of deadlines building up on your desk next to you. When your phone vibrates the desk loudly, you look around to make sure no one's watching you before giving in to your curiosity and picking up your phone.

-Great, see you Friday. I can't wait to see you xxx

You try to feel excited but the overwhelming amount of guilt you feel always overrides that. You wish it could be different, that you could've met in a different way. That you could actually thoroughly enjoy the time you have together rather than feeling a deep shamefulness everytime you meet.

You've got yourself into something so deep that you can't think of a way out of it, either way it ends somebody is going to be hurt. In fact, one way or the other, you're all going to be hurt.

*******************

"Hey babe, did you have a good day?" Your boyfriend greets you as you walk into the kitchen, filled with the aromas of the food he was cooking for you.

"It was ok, busy. This smells amazing. What you making?" You ask, kissing him on the cheek as he stands over the stove, stirring a pot of delicious smelling liquid.

"I'm just making a sauce for the pasta" he says letting go of his wooden spoon and grabbing you by the hand to spin you around and face him.

"Did you bring dessert?" He says into your ear, moving your hair to the side and planting kisses down your neck.

"What no, was I supposed to?" You couldn't remember him saying anything about dessert, yet you'd been pretty distracted most of the day.

"I'm sure you said something about making it up to me tonight?" He smirks, pulling you in for a lingering open mouthed kiss.

"Oh, yeah. That kind of dessert" you say, pulling away slightly.

"Are you ok? You seem kinda ... Distracted" he asks, a look of concern on his face as you shuffle though the papers in your bag.

"No, sorry babe. It's just work, I've had a lot on my mind today" you lie, sort of. You had a lot on your mind it just wasn't work related, even though you wish it was.

As you put the papers back into your bag you can feel your phone vibrating. Fuck sake, not now. Becoming flustered you accidentally drop the bag onto the glass table, nearly jumping out of your skin from the loud noise your phone made as it hit the glass.

You notice your hands shaking as you hold your phone in front of you, cursing yourself under your breath for being so pathetic. Reading the text has your heart beating at an unbelievable pace, making you light headed and dizzy.

-Can you meet me tonight? I hate this, I hate not being able to see you whenever I like. Please Y/N xxx

You pull out a chair and sit down before you fall down, why do you have to be pulled about in so many different directions? It was so hard leading a double life and keeping your dirty little secret, it literally ate away at your soul. You were a shell of the person you used to be, completely consumed with lies and deceit.

Sleepless nights, tossing and turning caused by guilt and work schedules and then still having to sneak away whenever you could. You lost yourself, trying to keep two people happy while completely forgetting about yourself.

"Babe?"

"Huh?" You say looking up from your phone, you hadn't realised he'd been speaking to you.

"I said, red or white? He asks, furrowing his brow at you.

"Sorry, what?" You look confused, shaking your head as if to shake the thoughts right out of there. You have no idea what he's talking about.

"Wine? Foods ready. Do you want red or white... wine?" Looking more concerned.

"Oh, white please. Thank you, this looks amazing" you say, putting your phone into your shirt pocket and tucking your chair under the table, ready to get started. It really did look amazing, you don't deserve him.

You watched him sit down opposite you, his ridiculously blue eyes catching yours as his fork passes to his lips. He smiles that sweet smile at you, the one that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. The memories of the years flash in front of your eyes in an instant, the first time he told you he loved you, the first kiss, the first time you made love, beautiful, beautiful memories. You can feel a tear prickling at the corner of your eye, lowering your head, hoping he didn't see.

"Are you sure you're ok?" He asks, reaching across the table to hold your hand in his. The feel of his touch on your hand sends shivers down your spine and the tears spill from your eyes without warning. You hear his chair screech as he pushes it backwards and rushes to your side.

"Babe, please tell me what's wrong?" He kneels In front of you while you rest your head in your hands, completely overwhelmed with guilt. This poor man, my man, how could I do this to him?

"Don't be nice to me, I don't deserve it" you say, self-loathing.

"What are you talking about? Come here" he pulls you up and sits down with you on his lap, lifting your face to look at him which makes you cry even more.

"I've been so distant with you, so consumed in my damn work that I've been totally neglecting you - " you cry, looking up at him sincerely, tears streaming down your face messily " - I'm so sorry" if only he knew how sorry you actually were. You loved him, he was your first everything, which makes it even harder for you.

"Hey don't be so silly. I'm a big boy, I think I can handle you being a little distracted, it just means when we do get time together it's more special. You've put up with so much from me, with the tabloids and papparzzi. You took it all on when we were still so young and never complained once, this is nothing compared to that" he wipes the tears away from your cheeks. Oh baby, please don't blame yourself.

"I would do it all over again, you know? It was worth it, I'd never change it. You're my childhood sweetheart, we've grown up together and I... I" you're balling like a baby now.

"Shh, baby. Please don't worry about it. You need a break, you've been working way too hard" if only he knew.

He nudges the side of your face with his soft bearded cheek until you give in and look up at him. The tears are also starting to well in his eyes and he smiles at you, at how silly and emotional you're both being. You suck it up and wipe the tears away with your arm.

"Come on, I've got some making up to do" you say, leading him to the bedroom. Your phone begins to vibrate in your pocket - an incoming call. You reach in and hold down the off button, you'll deal with that later.

He stops you before you make it to the bedroom and pushes you hastily against the wall, unable to wait much longer. His hands feel their way down your body until he reaches the hem of your skirt and pushes it up to your stomach, revealing your lacey panties. Your breath hitches as he pushes himself against you, the feel of his hard cock against your exposed panties makes you forget everything else for a moment.

"I love you so fucking much" he says against your lips, biting gently on your bottom one while his hands run up and down your body. You reach down to unbutton his jeans, it's all very rushed and desperate, you need to feel each other, feel the love you have for each other. You need to show him, a painful desire that burns in your chest to show him that you love him.

So you push him backwards towards the bedroom door, your hands still working his jeans as your lips lock, never pulling apart.

Shoving him slightly too hard back onto your super-king bed in the middle of the room, you waste no time straddling him. He reaches up to unbutton your shirt, thrusting into you as he does so, the need so bad it hurt. You stopped his fingers fiddling with your button midway down your torso so you could pull off his jeans and boxers, while he props himself up on the bed with his elbows. Watching intently as you take control.

You kneel between his thighs, smoothing your hands down those thick muscles. Waiting for him to position himself at the end of the bed, making sure he has a good view before you run your pierced tongue up the shaft, all the way to the tip. Teasing him, knowing full well how it makes him feel. The ways his head falls back, his mouth hung open and the sounds falling from his lips, stir something deep inside you. It makes you feel hot to know you're turning him on this much.

Circling your pointy tongue around the tip, a sultry stare straight into his eyes makes him groan. You take his tip into your mouth, swallowing the drop of precum, licking your lips for him. Sucking on his cock, feeling it throbbing in your mouth, growing impossibly harder.

You can tell he can't handle it anymore when he pulls you onto him so you're sitting on his cock, your walls stretching around him making you both suck in air at the sensitivity. He leans back up to finish unbuttoning your shirt while thrusting his big cock, deep within you. Finally getting your shirt off, he grips his fingers into your ass cheeks, squeezing them as he sits up. Bouncing up and down on his dick, while you stare into each others eyes, the intimacy overwhelming you. Lost in the moment for a precious amount of time, feeling the sensation of your loves cock filling you up beyond limits.

You pull his shirt over his head, revealing his beautifully, tanned body. Holding on tightly to you while he pushes himself up the bed so he can lean his back against the headboard. Watching your tits move as you bounce on his cock, thrusting into you with his jaw clenched. You know that look, the way he's desperately trying not to come too quickly.

Both of your breathes are getting faster as you bounce harder, the gripping sensation rises through you.

"I love you" you say between breaths, leaning down to say it into his ear.

"Fuck - " he groans, pulling out of you quickly before he come, your rising orgasm fading away.

" - fuck Sorry, babe. That was too fucking much" He rolls you over underneath him and quickly positions himself back at your entrance, easing in painfully slowly.

Now thrusting into you at an unforgivable pace, making you gasp everytime he slammed into you. Pushing your knees back towards your face and settling himself between them, holding your head with both hands and gazing into your eyes. He's ready, you're ready, you can feel it rising as he rolls his hips into you. The look of love in his eyes making you feel emotional, he's panting and you're moaning as he lets go and pumps into you making you lose it and scream out as you gush everywhere. Holding onto the sheets, tightly, as you wait for your toes to uncurl, still inside of you he lays on your stomach trying to catch his breath. Your muscles cramp up and shake making you wince as you try to move out from underneath him

"Are you ok?" His head snaps up, concerned.

"Yeah, just cramp" you whine, stretching out your legs when he rolls to your side.

"I really do love you" you say moving into his arms.

"I know you do. I love you too" he says kissing the top of your head. You're brought back to reality when you hear your phone vibrating again on the floor, in the pocket of your shirt.

"You're popular tonight" he says noticing the sound of your phone as it vibrates the floorboards.

"It's just work, it can wait until tomorrow" you say, content being in his arms for a little longer and forgetting that anything or anyone else exists. Even if it is only for a moment.

#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you #smut #angst #chris hemsworth fanfic

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jjmaybanksbaby · 3 years

Text

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer II

Part 03: Been A While

series masterlist | previous part

summary: Your second summer in the Outer Banks becomes a whole lot more complicated when you realize a year away from Rafe hasn't changed your feelings for him at all.

a/n: And we're back with summer two - the summer before sophomore year whoop whoop! Writing this gave me butterflies so I hope you have the same feeling reading it! I always love hearing y’all’s commentary so don't be shy to scream about your favorite parts back at me.

word count: 2.5k words

Your mom reached over and tapped you gently on the arm.

"Put your phone away please, y/n. You can text Evan when we land."

"We're not even moving yet." You replied.

As if on cue, the pilot's voice echoed over the intercom. "Good morning passengers. This is your captain speaking. Welcome onboard Flight 4B7 with service from Portland to the Outer Banks. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and secure all baggage..."

You stashed your phone in the pocket of the seat in front of you and closed your eyes, hoping that by the time you woke up you would be landing.

After the way last summer had gone, you were surprised when your mom announced that you were spending the summer in the Outer Banks again.

Frankly, you weren't that happy to be headed to North Carolina. Alice and Kensie, your two best friends back home, had opted not to go to camp this summer so the three of you had planned to spend every day at Alice's pool, biking to the Dairy Queen a few blocks away or begging of your moms to drive you to the mall.

Plus, there was Evan. Your boyfriend of six months. You'd both been cast as the understudies for the leads in the fall musical. Because of some freak food-poisoning accident, both you and Evan had to go on as Cinderella and Prince Charming in the final show. When he kissed you under the bright stage lights, it had felt like more than just a stage kiss. He'd asked you out at the cast party later than night and you'd been dating ever since.

Evan was great. He really was. He was thoughtful and cared about you. But ever since your mom had bought the plane tickets to the Outer Banks back in March, every time you kissed Evan you could only think of Rafe Cameron.

☼☼☼

You trailed behind your mother on the way to baggage claim, bent over your phone responding to the texts Alice and Kensie had sent in the group chat while you'd been in the air. Apparently, they'd bumped into Kensie's crush and need to analyze every detail. A feeling of jealously you hadn't anticipated crept into your chest, weighing you down. Even indoors, the muggy heat of the Outer Banks made it clear how far from Oregan - and from your people - you were.

You looked around the airport, searching for the baggage claim with your flight number and noticed an incredibly familiar head of blonde head of hair standing nearby.

"Sarah Cameron?" You asked.

Sarah spun around a joyful smile on her face. "Oh my god! Y/n!" She ran over, wrapping you in a hug. "Are you back for the summer?"

You nodded your head which elicited another excited scream from her.

"What are you doing at the airport?" You asked her.

"You'll never guess! We're getting a house in the Bahamas!" She gushed.

"Sarah!" A deep voice called. You looked up to see another older-looking version of Rafe headed in your direction.

Your mom froze beside you. "Oh dear," she whispered.

The man's gaze didn't leave your mom. "Heather," he said.

"Ward," she responded.

Oh, you thought. So that's Rafe's dad.

"It's good to see you," your mom continued. "You look," she paused for moment, "good."

"You as well," Ward responded.

The carousel behind you started to move and luggage streamed out.

"That's us," your mom said, pointing over to the moving carousel. "We should go."

"I'll tell Rafe you're back," Sarah whispered to you. "He's gonna be so excited."

You smiled down at her knowing that you'd already made a vow to yourself to avoid him all summer. You refused to let Rafe ruin what you and Evan had and the only way you could guarantee that was making sure you didn't see him at all.

☼☼☼

Sarah bounded in the front door of the Cameron's house. "We're home" she called out, her sing-songy voice echoing through the big house. Ward entered after her, carrying their luggage.

"Welcome home," Rose said, greeting Ward at the door with a kiss.

Sarah rolled her eyes at the exchange. It wasn't that she actively hated her step-mom, she would just have rather her dad not married her. Though he was buying her a house in the Bahamas as an anniversary present so maybe she wasn't all bad.

"Is Rafe upstairs?" Sarah asked.

"I think so," Rose replied.

Sarah ran up the stairs, skipping every other one, the way Ward always told her not to do. She came to a sudden stop in front of Rafe's closed door.

"Rafeeeeee," she yelled, knocking rapidly until his voice bellowed back at her through the wall.

"What do you want Sarah? Go away!" He yelled.

"Fine," Sarah said. "I guess you don't care that y/n is back in town then?"

The door swung open just a few seconds later. “What did you say?” Rafe asked.

“Y/n was at the airport. She’s back in the Outer Banks for the summer.” Sarah turned on her heel and sashayed her way to her own bedroom leaving Rafe in his doorway to process the information.

Maybe this summer will be a whole less boring, Rafe thought.

☼☼☼

The summer was going exactly how you'd expected. It was surprisingly nice to have your younger brother to keep you company and more importantly, keep you busy. You spend your days either on the beach, tanning, watching your brother splash in the waves, and making your way through the reading list of the Honors English class you had opted to take next year or at the Club's pool, eating chicken tenders for lunch and washing them down with the thick chocolate milkshakes.

Rafe's friends frequently made an appearance at the Club. You watched them sneak vodka from flaskes into cups of spirit from being your shaded sunglasses. So far, Rafe had yet to join them.

Currently, Phoebe was flirting hardcore with Sawyer, begging him to put sunscreen on her back so she wouldn't burn. It was all too predictable.

You turned your attention back to Nick Carraway and his descriptions of Gatsby's grand parties momentarily.

You heard Sarah's voice before she appeared next to you and plopped down on the chair your brother had been occupying before he decided he needed more ketchup for his fries and had ran off.

"Y/n," she started with the same youthful energy she always talked with, "has Rafe invited you to our Fourth of July party yet?"

"Umm," you hesitated. "No, he hasn't said anything about it."

"Ugh," Sarah threw her head back in a dramatic motion. "I told him to text you about it. He's useless. Anyway, we throw a huge party for the Fourth every year and you have to come. There are fireworks and everything..."

Sarah's monologue faded to the background as you looked up and noticed Rafe standing at the top of the steps that lead down the pool. Your stomach flopped in the same way it always did when you saw him.

Rafe started walking down the steps and a small panic set in. His own eyes wandered across the pool deck and it was only time before he recognized you. You shifted your body slightly, trying to use Sarah to block yourself from his view.

You turned your attention back to his younger sister, afraid that you'd accidentally make eye contact with Rafe.

Crap, crap crap, you repeated in your head. Rafe was for sure heading in your direction. Even as you forced yourself to focus on Sarah, you couldn't stop yourself from watching Rafe out of the corner of your eye and he was walking straight toward you. Your 'avoid-Rafe-all-summer' plan was going to be impossible now. With every step he took, you could feel your heart beating faster. It felt just like last summer.

Rafe stopped in front of the chair Sarah was sitting in and you couldn't stop yourself from looking up at him, a smile threaten to slide onto your face. The same warm but dangerous feeling you only got when Rafe was around took ahold of you.

"Sarah," he said, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Ward's looking for you."

She jumped up with a sudden spurt of energy, "Okay, I'll go find him!" She leaned down engulfing you in another hug. "See you around y/n." She said before running off.

"Bye Sarah." You replied.

"You know, you're like my sister's favorite person," Rafe said, still standing above you. "She mentioned you were in-town for the summer..." He let his sentence trail off.

But I hadn't seen you around. You finished for him in your head.

"Yeah, we got in about a week ago." You said. The tension that hung in the air between the two of you was exactly the reason you were trying to avoid him. The last time you had seen him he'd kissed you in a way you hadn't been able to get out your head for months afterward. It was a dangerous game. Nonetheless, here he was standing in front of you and you were barely holding it together.

Your phone began to ring and the photo of Evan kissing your check from homecoming popped up with the caller id. Rafe's eyes glanced over it and an unreadable expression crossed his face.

Right, it was 4 o'clock on Wednesday. The time and day you and Evan had decided you would call each other every week.

"Uhh, I gotta get this." You said to Rafe, reaching over and picking up the phone.

"Yeah, okay. See you later y/n." He replied before walking away from you and to his friends.

Your eyes followed him all the way even as you clicked answered and Evan's voice filled your ear.

☼☼☼

A feeling of nervousness set in as you approached the Cameron's, the absurd number of cars parked outside confirming you were at the right place. You glanced over each of your shoulders worried that your mom would pull up any second to drag you back home after you lied about where you were spending your evening. You felt decently bad about saying you were going to the Club to watch fireworks and coming to the Cameron's instead but you knew your family's stance on Rafe and his dad.

It seemed like the entire population of the Outer Banks was spread across the Cameron's backyard. Adults sipped festive cocktails as little kids, hyped-up onto much sugar, weaved in between their legs, chasing one another around. You looked around hesitantly, thankful when Sarah emerged from the crowd, frosting smeared across her face.

"You made it! I'm so happy you're here!" She screamed.

"Sarah," you laughed. "You have blue frosting all over you." You used your finger to wipe it from her cheek.

"Rose ordered the most delicious cake you've ever had. You have to try it. I can get you some. Do you want some?" She asked eagerly.

"I'm okay right now. Thank you though. Have you seen Rafe?" You asked. You were at his party, after all, it wasn't like there was any point in avoiding him now.

Sarah turned and pointed to the dock where Rafe and his group of friends were standing. "He's over there."

"Great. Okay! I'm going to go say hi."

"Have fun!" Sarah replied with a smile before running off in the same direction she's appeared in.

You made your way through the crowd to the dock, the groups' attention turning to you as you approached.

"Hey," you said, shyly.

Cleo and Riley jumped up from where they had been sitting with their legs dangling in the water.

"Y/n, right?" Cleo asked before leaning in for a hug.

"Yeah. Hi! It's good to see you guys again." You replied.

"You too! Rafe said you were back in town and I was wondering when you'd finally make an appearance." Cleo said.

You look over at Rafe to find him already watching you. He pushed through Cole and Milo and was suddenly in front of you

"Um, y/n and I need to get the fireworks." He said to the group. You watched Riley shoot Cleo a confused look but Cleo just shrugged it off.

Rafe grabbed your hand and pulled you along, leaving you no choice but to follow him. You walked in silence, other than the sound of your heart beating rapidly.

Rafe stopped at a small brick shed on the side of the house. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, pulling you in after. There were kayaks and paddleboards hanging on the walls and some old lifejackets littered the floor.

"Rafe-" you tried to start but he cut you off.

"Y/n, I seriously can't go one more minute without kissing you again."

Rafe looped his arm around your waist, cupped the back of your neck with his hand, and landed his lips on yours.

For a moment, you tilted your face upwards and leaned your body into his before your senses came rushing back to you and you shoved him backwards off of you. Surprise registered on his face.

"Rafe. No. I can't do this." Your voice broke, panic coursed through your whole body. "God, I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't have come here today or followed you here."

"Y/n." Rafe said but held your hand up warning him to say quiet.

"I have to go. I have to go," you repeated. "Tell Sarah I'm sorry I missed the fireworks. I know she'll be disappointed. I have to go."

You turned to leave but Rafe grabbed your wrist and his eyes locked with yours, his expression begging you to stay.

"I have a boyfriend." You blurted out. The weight of those four words settled on Rafe's face and you jerked your arm out of his grasp. You spun on your heel and walked out the shed and putting distance between you and the boy making your life so complicated.

You crossed the Cameron's yard, trying to gather yourself and slow your chaotic, unsteady breathing. You hurried down the long driveway, making it to the road without any tears slipping out of your eyes.

Rafe had tried to kiss you. He hadn't tried, he had kissed you. And you sorta kissed him back. No, not sorta. You kissed him back. But then you stopped. You pushed him away. You realized it was wrong. You didn't want to hurt Evan. You weren't gonna hurt Evan.

The fireworks began to explode behind you, large booms thundered across the sky, their big colors illuminating the night. You didn't dare turn around watch them. They reminded you too much of Rafe: the boy pulling your head and your heart in two different directions.

taglist! @oreoenthusiast13 [drop a ☀️ in my inbox or messages if you want to be added]

#outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #outer banks fanfiction #where it leads series #where it leads #obx fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron!high school #outer banks netflix

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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

acquainted | eight

> series masterlist | series playlist <

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: jungkook x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.6k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, jealousy and slight possessiveness, making out

tags: @laurynne5 @yiyi4657 @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead @bluesharksandfish @photographic-girl @yonkoghan @moonchild1 @thebeebi (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Should we go to that charity event the school is holding on Friday? It sounds kind of fun." Ryujin sipped on her drink, while you went through your closet, showing her different outfits over the facetime call.

"What's it for again?"

"I don't remember, but the Golden State Warriors dj is going to be dj'ing. He's pretty good."

"Yeah he is. I mean, I'm down, especially if it's for a good cause."

"Okay, I'll grab us tickets when I head to campus."

"You're not even gonna ask Jimin or Tae?" You chuckle.

"Why would I? They do everything we do, they don't know anything outside of us." You shake your head.

"Cut them a little slack."

"Boohoo, they'll say yes regardless. Bring Jungkook!"

"I mean, I'll ask, but I'm not gonna force him."

"Oh quit, I'm sure he'd be happy to spend time with you." She looked at you through the camera. "K, let me see that outfit."

"He said casual." You showed her your outfit in the full length mirror.

"Absolutely, yes! You're fucking hot." She squeals, automatically solidifying your outfit for tonight. It, thankfully, wasn't too cold in the Bay today, so you throw on a grey distressed denim mini skirt, a low-cut light grey longsleeve, a belt and some heeled combat boots. You ruffled and fixed your hair a bit until you were satisfied with your look, picking up the phone once more to turn your attention back to Ryujin.

"Thank you."

"No problem, babe. I hope you have fun! Did he say where you two were going?"

"Nope, it's apparently a surprise."

"Ugh, I love him already." She gushes, causing you to shake your head. You dabbed a bit of lip gloss and pressed your lips together to spread it out before spraying a perfume cloud for you to walk through. Sooner or later, knocks came at the door.

"Okay, I think that's him. I'll talk to you later?"

"Call me as soon as you get home. I want to know how big his dick actually is."

"You're sick. You sound exactly like Tae, you know that?"

"We're not talking about him."

"Love you, bye!" You abruptly hang up on her, unsure of why the hell you deal with her and Taehyung's crude comments. You grab your bag and open the door to see Jungkook standing there with a small bouquet of flowers. He peeks his head over the bouquet with the cutest smile you have ever seen.

"Hi." He slightly scrunches his nose and pulls you into a hug. Goddamn, does he smell good. "These are for you." He hands you the bouquet.

"Jungkook, they're beautiful. Thank you." You take it into your kitchen and place it into a vase really quickly before stepping out. You eye him from head to toe, and boy is looking like a whole ass meal in the denim outfit he has on. Like, who in the world could pull off this outfit like that?

"You look amazing." You blush. "If you ever get cold, just let me know, alright? I can spare my jacket."

"You're so sweet."

"Just want to make sure you're comfortable." He shrugs. "You ready?"

"Depends on what you have up your sleeve."

"Nothing extreme, if that's what you're thinking." He laughed. "I hope you enjoy it, though."

"Thanks for planning all of this, by the way."

"No biggie. I'm just glad to finally spend some time with you." He does a little run to open the passenger car door for you before hopping into the driver's seat. Immediately, he gets the car started and turns up the heat to make sure you're comfortable. The radio is softly playing Zayn's sHe, with Jungkook softly singing along.

"Wait a minute," You chuckle. "Do you sing?" He smirked.

"Maybe."

"Hey, that's not fair. Sing louder."

"No, now I'm shy." He chuckled.

"Why? It's just me."

"Yeah and I just wanna impress you and not make a fool out of myself."

"You won't! Please." You pouted, making him shake his head.

"Ugh, Y/N. That's going to easily become a weakness for me if you keep pulling that pout." You keep pouting. Eventually, he gets over himself and starts to sing a little louder than earlier, causing your heart to flutter at how angelic he sounds. He ends up laughing towards the end and shrugging it off, his cheeks tinted with a rosy tint as you shower him in compliments. Swoon. You were so into the moment that you didn't even realize Jungkook was taking you across the bridge to San Francisco. You and your friends don't come to the city much, strictly because there's too many goddamn hills, parking is expensive as fuck, there's too many one way streets and people just get crazy as hell [like crossing the street when it's not time to walk?!]. It was a little calmer back home and that's all you guys needed. You watch as he parks the car effortlessly on a steep hill before coming over to your side to open the door for you.

"Whew, that's gonna be a workout later." You look back at the steep hill that you're gonna have to climb after eating dinner, you assume.

"Don't worry, I got you." He laughs. There's actually a lot of people out for a Tuesday evening that you end up hanging onto his arm to get navigate the random sea of people. He walks into Brenda's French Soul Food - nothing too fancy, but nothing too casual. The waitress brings you both towards the back end of the restaurant and out into the patio, where there are christmas lights hung around the fence and outdoor heaters posted. He pulls out your chair before sitting himself down, the waitress putting down your menus and cups of water.

"Ohhhhh, my god." You say with heart eyes looking at the menu. You had heard about this place from so many people, and you were impressed that Jungkook was able to score reservations being that it's always so busy due to its popularity. "I'm so excited! I've been wanting to try this place."

"Goodjob, Jungkook." He says, patting himself on the back. "If you're happy, that's all I could ask for." The waitress comes back to offer recommendations, which you both include in your orders in one way or another. Although packed, the restaurant was able to pump out orders quickly and efficiently so you and Jungkook weren't sitting around for too long without food.

"So, how's Jin in class?" You almost choke on your food even though this is something you should have expected. You really wanted to avoid speaking about him tonight, but you knew it was inevitable being that you were out with his brother.

"Um, he's alright."

"Just alright?" He rose his eyebrow and chuckled.

"No, sorry. I mean, he's a really good teacher. Definitely better than our last professor. Everyone in class loves him."

"That's cool. Yeah, he's really smart and wise. I've always looked up to him."

"How long has it been?" You weren't sure how to ask the question, but Jungkook understood what you were asking.

"I was a sophomore in high school when my mom met his dad." You're silent for a moment, allowing him to continue on if needed. "I had a really hard time at first, you know? The whole stepfather thing. My anger was moreso directed towards my mom and my stepdad for awhile. But Jin helped me out a lot. He helped me come to terms with my feelings about everything and he stuck by my side, always had my back whenever I got into arguments or bickered with one of our parents." You nodded, suddenly feeling guilty even though you and Jungkook weren't a couple.

"So, you two are really close." He nodded.

"Yeah, we are. I really don't know what I'd do without him. He's taught me a lot and helped me grow. Plus, Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi have been around too. They treat me like their own little brother.”

"That's sweet. It's nice to have that kind of relationship with your sibling and their friends." You chuckle.

"It is." He nods. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Ryujin, Taehyung and Jimin." He laughs.

"From the club, right? I met your friends, they're fun people."

"They're too much, honestly. I'm the only child, but we've all been stuck to the hip since freshman year in college."

"That's cool that you guys have been together since then." You give him a toothless smile. "I think it's pretty awesome that you guys are tackling grad school together too."

"Initially, we all had different plans, but Jimin had some big goals for himself including grad school, and it played a huge role in my decision to do grad school, too. Then Ryujin followed, then Taehyung."

"Cute."

"Speaking of friends, there's this charity event at school on Friday." You look up at him, a small smirk growing on his face.

"Uh huh?"

"And I was wondering if you wanted to come along with us. They really want you there."

"That's sweet. But, what matters the most is that you want me there."

"I wouldn't be inviting you if I didn't, right?" You bit your bottom lip.

"Touché. Of course I'll go with you, beautiful." He does a small nod before sipping his water. "Should we show up in matching outfits?" He joked, causing you to snort.

"Honestly, that seems pretty entertaining. Cute, and entertaining."

"I'm down if you are." You stuck your tongue out playfully.

"I'm game too."

"Let me know what you're wearing then."

"I will, whenever I figure that out."

"Take your time. Just know you'll look good in anything." You blushed. You both continue to talk over the remaining bits of your food before Jungkook calls for the check. You watch as he scribbles his signature onto the receipt before standing and sticking his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. While exiting the small and crowded restaurant, you hold onto his hand, feeling him grip it tighter as you both successfully make it out. The night isn't too cold, and you sure as hell knew it wouldn't be after you conquered the hill that Jungkook parked on.

"Fuck." You say as you stand on the street, eyeing the steep hill in front of you.

"Come on." He says, slightly bending down for you to hop onto his back.

"Ouu, I don't know if that's a good idea--"

"Y/N, I promise it's okay. Come on." He laughed. Hey, if he was willing to do this, then why not? You hop onto his back, his arms wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, while you clung onto his neck. "See, not so bad, right?" He says, sprinting up the hill, making you laugh and hold onto him tighter.

"Shit, I am so sorry. That was probably a workout. Right after we ate, too."

"Nah. It wasn't anything." He scrunched his nose. On the way back over the bridge, Jungkook is heading towards Lake Merritt. You both are singing along to songs and joking around about topics that pop up here and there. When he parks his car, you notice a whole crowd of people gathered by the lake, which was a little unusual for this time of night. He grabs your hand and gently caresses the top with his thumb as he walks you over towards the crowd. To your surprise, you realize people are gathered here for a water lantern festival. Your eyes light up, making Jungkook smile at how excited you look.

"Jungkook, what the hell! How did you know about this and I didn't?" He shrugs.

"I have my ways." He says, his voice low and deep. You playfully shove him before you make your way over to grab lanterns to decorate. You and Jungkook sit off in a more quiet, calmer part of the lake, silently decorating your lanterns and writing your wishes along with it. What exactly did you want to wish for?

Happy friends, happy family. Happy you.

Whatever happiness meant to you.

To have Chance look over you.

Jungkook is done pretty quickly, but he waits for you to finish, not questioning what you've written since he figures it's a private matter. He shows you his lantern and his cute little stick figure drawing of his family and friends. You giggle, watching him gently lay his lantern in the water, giving you leverage to do the same with yours. You stand closely to him, his body providing you some warmth as you watch your lanterns float off into the lake and illuminate the night along with the others.

"Ready? We have one more thing to catch." He snakes his arm around your waist and gives your side a gentle squeeze. You simply nod, following him back to his car. He takes you about 30 minutes away, exiting and pulling right into a lot two street lights down from the exit. He pulls up to the ticket booth, buying 2 tickets for Tenet at the drive-in movie. You squeal and clap in your seat excitedly, also not knowing this was still around.

"Did you really do your research to plan this date?"

"Yes and no? I've been here before, and I thought it would be fun to take you. The restaurant and the lantern festival though, yes." He parks his car as instructed, turning the radio to the correct channel in order to hear the audio. "Wanna hop in the back so we have more room?" You nod, getting out of your seat just to hop into the back. He leans over into his trunk, grabbing water bottles and assorted gummy candies for you to snack on in case you wanted some. "I hope you're having fun so far."

"I am." You respond softly.

"Okay, beautiful. If you say so." He chuckles. He moves the driver and passenger seats forward so that you both have room to spread your legs a bit. At first, Jungkook made sure to give you enough space so he wouldn't make you uncomfortable, but over time, you felt yourself sinking closer and closer to his body until he had his arm draped around your shoulder, while part of your body rested on his. His hand gently caressed your arm, occasionally sending goosebumps through your body at how soft his touch his. You glanced over, admiring at how focused he was on the movie. He must have felt you looking at him because he quickly looks over and blushes as he nibbles on a gummy worm. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just cute how focused you are."

"Damn, are you not into it?"

"I am, but it's kind of hard to follow sometimes."

"Yeah, it's definitely one of those movies." This time, his gaze on you is a little longer than before. You don't know what takes over you, but you plant a kiss on him, making him smile into the kiss. He doesn't say anything, but proceeds to rest his free hand on your neck, pulling you close and into another deep kiss. Your hand grips onto the side of his shirt, your tongues slowly fighting for dominance. The sounds of wet kisses fills the car and tunes out the movie audio. You can feel the moment intensifying, both you and Jungkook letting out breathy moans in between kisses. Suddenly, the thought of Seokjin quickly flashes in your mind, the past nights you've spent with him and the nasty shit you both have done to each other.

You lightly gasp as you pull away, but it wasn't obvious to Jungkook that something had disturbed your peace.

"Sorry, I—" He tries to save face just in case he was in the wrong about something.

"No, I just— I wasn't expecting it to get that intense." You lied. You knew damn well.

"It's okay." He chuckled. "I would never rush you into anything, Y/N. Okay? We can take this slow." He gives you a genuine, warm, reassuring smile that causes you to swoon. Why the fuck was he so good? Just why? How was this even fair right now?

All you do is simply smile and lean back onto him. He's back to caressing your arm and shoulder, giving you small pecks on the top of your head every now and then to reassure you. Part of you wondered if this is what Seokjin had taught him over the years - how to properly love a woman and be a gentleman. But then, that quickly fades when you remember the situation you're in with him.

Well no, you're not in anything with him. You needed to stop doing this to yourself.

When the movie ends, you both climb back into the front seats to make your way back home. You feel the exhaustion hit you, all the fun and adrenaline you felt today slowly come crashing down. Jungkook parks in the passenger loading zone, throwing on his hazard lights before walking you up to your apartment.

"Jungkook, thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed it and had a ton of fun with you."

"I'm glad." He cups your face and gently places a kiss on your forehead. You weren't satisfied with it though, so you tippy toe as you hold onto his hand and kiss him on the lips. He leans into the kiss, deepening it for a quick second before pulling away. "Let me know the details about Friday, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll call you tomorrow. Sleep tight, beautiful." He smiles and licks his lips as he watches you walk in, feeling utterly content with how the day went. You feel the same way, smiling to yourself as you throw your bag onto the floor and prance into the bathroom to get ready for bed. You felt the butterflies in your stomach every time you thought about Jungkook and his smile, or his soft lips against yours.

Butterflies that kept your mind off of—

[jin] 10:04pm: Are you still with Jungkook?

You roll your eyes at the text. You hadn't pulled out your phone all night, so you're also seeing the numerous messages from your friends in the group chat, too.

[jimin] 7:45pm: have fun tonight, Y/N!

[taehyung] 7:50pm: ^ ditto. use protection, young lady

[taehyung] 7:50pm: think about mr. kim's feelings

[ryujin] 7:56pm: taehyung kim, shut the hell up. do you have anything better to do?

[jimin] 8:01pm: i really hope she doesn't pull out her phone during the date -__-

[taehyung] 8:05pm: lmfao you guys, chill out

[taehyung] 8:06pm: i'm sorry y/n, im just kidding. have fun tonight and be safe, love you

[ryujin] 8:10pm: CALL ME WHEN YOU GET HOME Y/N! i wanna know deets, remember! and ask him if he wants to join us on friday!

Unbelievable. Your friends were unbelievable, and that was an understatement. You don't respond to the group because you figured you'd call Ryujin in a bit and update the boys over the week. But to Jin's text - fuck.

You were literally just tucking him away in the far, far, far dark, deep depths of your mind.

[y/n] 11:38pm: I was, but now I'm home.

[jin] 11:39pm: Yeah, he just texted me back. Sorry.

[y/n] 11:40pm: It's okay.

[jin] 11:43pm: Okay. Have a good night.

He hates this. Why the hell would you do this to him? Grace is upstairs sleeping while Jin is trying to clean the kitchen up like he promised. Suddenly, his phone goes off, signaling a call coming in.

Jungkook.

"Hello?"

"Oh shit, yes! You're awake!" Jin chuckles a bit.

"How was the date?" Not only was he asking out of curiosity, but wanted to know how you were doing during the night. Completely none of his business but he couldn't help himself.

"God, she's fucking amazing. A-and-and beautiful." He yells into the phone excitedly. "She's so exciting. I can't wait to take her out again. I just wanna keep spending time with her." Jin is pretty unamused on the other line. Thank God he isn't on Facetime so he didn't have to fake this facial expressions hearing about Jungkook's feelings for you. "S-she- I mean, we kissed."

"Oh?" Jin asks, tongue pressed against his cheek. What the fuck.

"Yeah, we were making out during the movie. It got pretty intense, but it didn't get any further than that. I didn't wanna rush her into anything."

"You think it could have escalated?"

"Yeah honestly, but I wanna do right by her, you know?" Jin can tell how serious Jungkook was starting to become about pursuing you, and he had never felt more competitive until this day. He just wanted you to himself, and he wanted to be the one to kiss you and make you feel things you've only dreamed about.

Not his brother.

He, too, wanted you just as bad. If anything, more.

"It sounds like it was a pretty successful first date." Jungkook is beaming through the phone, he didn't have to see his face to know that.

"It was. It was such a good night." Jungkook chuckles. "By the way, I'm going to that charity event on campus on Friday. Are you and Grace going?"

"Probably not."

"Well, if you both are free, you should swing by. It'll be nice to see Grace."

"Yeah, I'll ask and see what's up." Jin sighs. "I should probably get to bed, I'm pretty tired. I'm happy to hear the date went well, kid."

"Thanks, dude. I'll talk to you later, get some rest."

"You too." Jin hangs up the call, silently hitting his fist against the kitchen counter as he lets out a deep sigh. More than ever, he wanted to keep you wrapped around his finger. He wanted to keep you there, no matter how selfish that sounded. There was no way he was going to let you unravel.

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unprofessional-bard · 4 years

Text

Chapter 7 - The Fog, Pt. I

Losing My Religion Series Masterlist

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader/OC

Warnings: Enough with fluff, time for some angst... with smut in flashbacks but detailed enough to satisfy y'all 😌. TW// mentions of suicide, canon typical violence/events, death of a child - overall a lot of blood and gore.

Summary: Things take a dark turn for the reader on patrol one day.

Word Count: 4.119

Author's Note: PLEASE READ!! I'll be moving to another country next week, so my updates might be delayed from time to time... I'm putting a soundtrack from the walking dead below called "The Pulse (I)", the sounds in the beginning (you'll know what I'm talking about once you listen) are what the reader hears; I really didn't know how to describe the sounds so I decided to put the soundtrack there and also linked it on a word when the time comes. Finally, I'm assuming Ellie was born sometime between the end of spring and summer because of the outfits they wore in that cutscene in part ii, so I set this chapter's date to September; wanted Joel to have some nice time with his daughter :")

Enjoy!

Walt made sure to stay away from you after your conversation. You were absolutely shocked and angry - you hated Walt for that, but you could only laugh at the situation when you told Maria what happened. How ironic it all was. You thought maybe if Joel hadn't come along, you could have ended up with Walt but you weren't sure if you'd be as happy with him as you were with Joel. You would've been sad or upset after finding out about this new 'information' if your feelings for Joel weren't this strong, but you were simply glad Walt didn't open up to you before Joel and Ellie came. Your relationship with Walt was damaged for sure now, but it wasn't completely in disrepair.

Joel and you, on the other hand, weren't the type to kiss or hold hands in public. You weren't too sensual with each other in front of others, but behind closed doors, it was a different story. Who would've thought Joel Miller would be a cuddler? It definitely wasn't you, or Tommy or Ellie. Nobody knew for awhile of course, but Tommy eventually caught Joel and you in your kitchen one day, weeks later. He was hugging you from behind and placing sweet kisses on your neck as you tried to focus on the task in front of you, but he was making it significantly hard.

Tommy teased Joel to no end about being a love sick puppy around you and kept asking when the two of you were going to get married. You'd blush and laugh, but you never even thought about marriage in the first place. It had only been around ten months since you two made things official between yourselves, but the idea of labeling it sounded silly at that time- plus, it was still a little early to think about marriage. As Eugene had put it, you were in the sex, beer and rock 'n roll phase of your relationship and you needed more time to figure everything out before settling down together. You two stayed at each other's houses most of the time of course, but still. There were still sides to the both of you that neither of you discovered yet as well.

Sex, beer and rock 'n roll? Well...

"Really? Now?" Joel.

"Yes, now!" You whisper yelled, then slowly sneaked your hand under his shirt and began kissing his neck. "Come on, baby, please? I need you..."

You were leaning against Joel, practically rubbing your whole body against his as you moaned whispered in his ear. Of course, he couldn't help himself when he saw you were this hungry for him, so he gladly obliged.

You kissed Joel's lips softly, but just as you pulled away, he held your neck and kissed you again harshly. You knew, you weren't in for a gentle treatment the moment you felt his hand around your throat lightly. Joel sat you on the desk and spread your legs, settling between your thighs and grabbing them.

"Tommy won't stop bustin' my balls about this if he catches us," Joel grunted.

"He won't- if we're quick enough," You smirked and took his jacket off in a rush. You two were currently at a back room of the ski lodge lookout, where Tommy told you he'd meet you both in half an hour.

"Lay down for me," Joel growled and pulled your pants down to your knees while you did as he told you, getting support from your elbows as he slowly unbuckled his belt. Your arousal was present ever since you woke up from a rather naughty dream in the morning. You didn't say or do anything about it, hoping that it'll go away throughout the day. Guess what? It didn't and here you were, Joel between your wide open legs and pumping his cock while teasing you with his other hand. You wouldn't say you had sex too often like rabbits, but you had sex when there was a mutual tension between you that needed to be subsided and it was so perfect every time.

Today though? You were just horny for the man and the hunger in your eyes was enough for a tent to build up in Joel's pants.

Your wetness was a natural lubricant for his easy entrance into you. He absolutely loved you around his cock, the way your walls took him in and clamped down around his length and, of course, the noises you made.

Joel stepped over the barrier made by your pants, grabbed your hips and set off with a fast, brutal pace. Your arms shook as they struggled to keep you up, sweat trickling down your forehead and finally gave out, making you lay down completely. He leaned down to kiss your neck, hips snapping into yours and stroking all the right places in fast motions. He pulled your v-neck blouse up just above your breasts and his teeth immediately met with your hardened nipples, making you moan loudly.

"Shh," Joel chuckled. "It's like you want us to get caught, baby."

Your giggles soon turned to high pitched whines of his name, his fast and rough pace gave you an indescribable amount of pleasure. The table you were currently spread across on began hitting the wall behind you louder and louder with each thrust along with his skin slapping against yours but neither of you were in a state of mind to care.

"Oh Joel!" You cried out, holding onto his arms for dear life as he fucked the living out of you.

Joel growled - you would've thought he was angry if you weren't in this situation right now: "Fuck, (Y/N)-"

A few profanities and thrusts later, you came undone a moment before he pulled out and with a couple of strokes, came on your inner thigh. You thought you'd seen stars as your legs twitched, hanging off the table. Joel collapsed on your body and you two stood like that, trembling and trying to catch your breaths.

"That- that was-" Joel tried to speak.

"Mind blowing?" You chuckled.

"That's one word to describe it," Joel slowly pushed himself up and placed a kiss on your forehead, helping you up.

No one ever caught the two of you in the act, of course. You two were incredibly careful while teasing one another in public - it could be a look, a smirk, the slightest spreading of his or your legs, a touch, a word- anything would be so carefully executed that nobody would even notice. After sex, your mind lingered too long on Joel and that usually wasn't good because it sometimes led to daydreaming while doing chores in town. Not on patrol, of course, but this one morning Joel had fucked you so good, you couldn't help but spend the rest of the day aching for more.

You were still a little sleepy so you let him have it his way. He took off whatever clothing he had on him and stripped you of yours, then spread your legs open: "Ain't you the loveliest little thing when you wake up..."

You grinned at him, stretching as he kissed your belly once, then proceeded to eat you out like a man who hadn't eaten in days. He took his time and didn't rush anything, earning soft gasps from you with his skillful tongue: "Oh god, Joel-"

One of your hands went through his hair while the other was on your forehead as if you were about to faint. Your cheeks were burning, his hands had a tight grip on your waist so he could keep you from wiggling out of his touch. This was pleasure in its purest form, you thought. The sight of him buried between your legs were absolutely delicious and the feeling even more so. He didn't let you come, however. Instead he sat on the bed and licked his lips: "Turn around for me, baby."

You whined at the loss of contact but did as he asked. He got on top of you, then caressed and massaged your back and kissed down your spine as his hands moved lower to your rear: "You ready for me, doll?"

"Yes," You sighed dreamily, a light smile on your lips. Joel pushed your legs together and you felt the bed dip on each side. He was hovering over you on his knees: Slowly, he pushed into you, almost moaning at the feeling of how tight you felt around him. You were already a mess by the time he was buried to the hilt. He fucked you thoroughly and slowly - he had all the time in the world and didn't want to rush anything. You liked it when he was taking his time, it extended your orgasm to it's limit but this position was about to see to a quick end on both sides.

He gently grabbed your chin and pulled your head up so he could tease your lips with his. You were on your elbows and moaning softly, whining when he didn't kiss you: "Joel..."

A quiet chuckle left his lips: "You want a kiss?"

You simply nodded and moaned instead of answering when his pace got faster. He gave you your kiss, your jaw in his careful grasp and fucked you until you came with a high pitched moan. Joel came on your rear, finishing with a long, hushed groan.

Those two and your first time with each other were the best sex you two ever had, you both agreed on it during a drunken chat.

Joel wasn't too hard to handle. During his time in Jackson and then his time with you and Ellie had really helped him open up and get comfortable with his emotions around people he let in. He hardly ever got jealous, but the way he got jealous would be sweet rather than a mood killer.

"I'm real lucky to have the most beautiful woman in town all for myself," He'd say, before kissing your brow and putting his arm around your waist. You enjoyed it, being his. New arrivals who'd try their chances with you would instantly know that you were 'his gal' and he was your man. You two really helped one another fit better in Jackson - you socialized with others and got to be vulnerable around each other. You taught him how to love again and he taught you over and over that all hope wasn't lost.

Until September 23rd, 2035. A date you'll never quite forget.

Red, orange and brown leaves had fallen off trees and blanketed the soil you and Joel were walking on. You two were set off to patrol a new place Tommy and Joel had discovered a few days back and it needed clearing from the infected. There was also a child, Miles, missing along with his father Samuel. They'd been missing for four days now and your thoughts were very troubled because of it, ever since their disappearance was announced. You really liked Miles, a sweet twelve year old boy he was.

"Doll, you okay?" Joel gave you a concerned look. Your grip on your rifle was hard and you had zoned out apparently, missing everything Joel had been talking about.

"Yeah," You nodded. The sun was shining through the trees and right onto Joel's beautiful face, which made you smile. "I wish we had a camera."

"I heard Tommy found one, he said someone was working on it this morning," Joel replied. "Why'd you ask?"

"You look so beautiful like this- and we don't have a picture together."

"Yeah, you're right," He nodded. "We'll be the first ones to use it, I promise you... I actually want a picture of me and Ellie too."

The way he loved Ellie like he did Sarah made your heart break. He had mentioned how he was absolutely destroyed and almost took his own life after her passing, also the story of how him and Ellie came across two brothers, Sam and Henry, before they found you which turned you into a concerned mother duck around the kids in Jackson and more of a wife to Joel than a girlfriend.

"Yeah, I want a lot of pictures with a lot of people: With the kids, Maria, Tommy, even Eugene!" You chuckled and made him laugh, but suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you saw two bodies lying on the ground and a third one away from them. "Joel, look."

Joel's smile immediately dropped at the sight. You two shared a look before you got in position and carefully walked over to the bodies with your rifle pointed at them, Joel right behind you. The closer you got, you noticed how there was a third body under the other two. You didn't recognise any of them, so you carefully leaned down and moved one of them away to see an awful scene in front of you.

"Oh god, Miles?" You whispered. His eyes opened slowly and you immediately moved the corpses off him.

"Miss (Y/N)?" Miles' voice cracked.

"It's alright Miles- It's me, I got you-"

"(Y/N)," Joel called over to where the third body was, only to see Samuel lying on his face.

You gave him a devastated look, but stopped Miles from seeing his father's body and picked him up bridal style: "Good god, how long have you been here, darling?"

"A few hours?" Miles held onto you while Joel was trying to figure out a way on how to get Samuel's body back to town. "You need to be careful miss, those men could be still here."

"What men?"

"The men that attacked us," Miles continued. "My pa thought they were bandits, but they wer-"

Blam!

You didn't understand what happened first. Blood got into your eyes and splattered all over your face - an incredible force almost pushed Miles out of your hold but your grip stopped him from falling.

"Dolly!" You heard Joel yell, but you couldn't open your eyes, too much blood-

You wiped your eyes on your arm as best as you could with Miles in them, but when you finally managed to open your eyes, you almost screamed: There were two holes on the sides of Miles' head and a bullet, covered in blood, on the ground.

"Oh- Oh god," You trembled, you couldn't take your eyes off the poor boy's head, but Joel pushed you on the ground suddenly and saved you from another bullet.

"Take cover- run!" Joel yelled, pushing you in the direction of a huge rock only a few feet away from you. You reluctantly let go of Miles' body and ran with him. Once behind the cover, Joel whispered: "Dolly- Dolly are you okay?"

You sure as shit were not, your face looked like the statement too.

"You heard the boss: Bring the woman alive, get rid of the other one!" A shiver went down your spine. Who the hell were they? Was FEDRA finally caught up to you?

"Oh fuck," You tried to breathe, wiping at your face. "Joel-"

"I'm right here darlin' but you gotta focus, we need to get outta here," Joel held your face between his hands. "C'mon (Y/N), focus."

You took a few deep breaths and concentrated. You heard about seven to eight footsteps beginning to surround you. You readied your rifle and Joel did the same, but before attacking, you threw a smoke bomb right onto a man who was the closest to your position, then moved in his direction as a smoke cloud hid your movements. This gave Joel time to cover you as you killed the first man, bullets flying in your direction. You quickly jumped back to your cover, a bullet barely slicing through the flesh of your leg as you landed beside Joel.

"Please tell me you have a nail bomb," You whined.

"Always," Joel said before sending it off to where three of the men were, the shards embedding themselves into their skin and making them cry out in pain. Quickly taking the chance, you fired at the men until you ran out of bullets. You took out Kurt's your knife and advanced at another man with a baseball bat in his hand. You were quicker with a knife - it took you almost five seconds to cut open the man's vital veins and have him collapse onto the ground. Just as you were about to turn around to see where Joel was, you felt someone grab you by the waist and slam you to the ground.

"Oof!" You immediately collected yourself and swung the blade to your opponent's throat, but he grabbed your wrist and rolled you and himself over, pushing himself away from you. You quickly got up on your knees and reached for your blade when the same hand caught your wrist once more. You were, once again, mortified at the sight in front of you: "Gabe?!"

"Hiya commander," Gabe growled in despise and headbutted you, completely taking advantage of how off guard you were.

"Fuck!" You cried out and kicked him in the face before he could get to you when you collapsed. While you two were on the floor, making sure your bones weren't broken, Joel was shooting his way to you. He was going hand to hand with a man who's neck was going to be broken by the heel of Joel's boots in a matter of seconds. You stumbled but got up and immediately got on top of Gabe with your knife in hand. You went to stab him in the throat but his arms blocked you from doing so.

"(Y/N)!" Joel pointed his gun at Gabe, but was interrupted by another man suddenly tackling him.

Your vision was red - you were like a raging bull, wanting nothing more than to kill Gabe for what he had done. You were angry at yourself too, mostly at yourself but he still played a part in getting your family killed. You couldn't even hear your surroundings anymore as you repeatedly hit and forced your knife holding hand down to his throat while grunting angrily.

Another unexpected move from him had your back slamming onto the ground with his ankles wrapped around your throat. How the hell- Since when was he this flexible?!

You gasped for air with a loud cry, drawing a distressed Joel's attention back to you. You were scared now, actually scared because of the move Gabe pulled, so your survival instincts kicked in with full effect. The tip of your boot met with his jaw, hard, as soon as it got free from under your thigh. The moment you felt his lock weaken around your throat, you rolled back, grabbed his leg before he could recollect himself and with everything you had, struck his knee with your elbow. Gabe screamed and kicked you with his fine leg, but he was weak and you kept striking the same spot, crushing his bone ferociously.

"(Y/N)!" Joel pulled you away from your shoulders, but you pushed him off with your back. "(Y/N), stop!"

You grabbed Gabe's throat, nails digging into his skin and pressed him down: "Got you, you fucking rat."

"(Y/N)-"

You ignored Joel and choked Gabe to his death: "Is there more of you, huh? Where is he?!"

"You'll be seeing him-" Gabe choked out, struggling against your grip. "Very soon."

"We need to move!" Joel pulled you off of him, but you pushed him away with your hands.

"Fine," You replied through your teeth after calming down. You gave a final look at Gabe and when you saw a shit eating grin on his face, you, with the speed of light, leaned down and grabbed your knife, then shoved it through his throat with a roar. You looked him dead in the eyes as he choked on his own blood and died.

"(Y/N)..." Joel's eyes were wide as he watched you wipe the blood on your knife on Gabe's jeans. You got up, more blood smeared on your face and jacket, but just as you began walking away, you heard more footsteps from inside the woods.

"Shit, hide," You kneeled and took cover behind a fallen tree, Joel right beside you.

"Who are they?" Joel whispered as you reloaded your rifle with a hard look on your face.

"People I thought were dead," You replied, not looking into his eyes. "They escaped me once and I paid dearly because of it. I'm not leaving until they're dead."

"No, we can leave now and come back with Tommy and other's-"

"And let these assholes find out where we live and terrorize the town?" You growled angrily. "Let's make one thing clear: I'm not letting anymore people die because of stupid mistakes I make. This ends. Now."

You discreetly scanned your surroundings: There were, once more, around eight men searching the area for you two. You took a deep breath and sneaked off to take down your first target. Joel was really tense but still carried out his fair share of executions until one of the men saw you and alerted the rest, bullets flying in the air. Most of the men were already down, but suddenly more men filled the area. Where the hell are they coming from?!

You were more than willing to take him up on that offer, but you obviously didn't trust him: "You think I'm dumb enough to believe you'll stay true to your word, you son of a whore?!"

"Hold your fire!" A very, very familiar British accent that haunted you to this day reached your ears and your eyes went wide. "Oh (Y/N)~" He sang and called for you. "Are you still alive, sweetheart?" You gulped and tried to breathe, a sound lightly ringing in your ear the more he talked: "I know you're out there, I have an offer for you: Come with me now and I'll leave your friend alone."

"Come now, my mother flipped in her grave because of you and your team too many times already, poor woman..." You peeked at him from behind your cover carefully as he continued: "Oh for god's sake- bring him out!"

You watched in horror as two men dragged Joel out to the open from his arms. When did he even get captured?! God, you thought, I was so blinded by revenge I couldn't protect him.

"Dear lord above," The man chuckled, quite shocked. "I never thought I'd see you again."

What?

Joel remained quiet even after the men pushed him onto the ground, then the leader pulled out his pistol and pushed the tip against Joel's head: "Alright, new deal: If you don't come out in the next three seconds, I'll blow his bloody head off."

"Alright, stop!" You immediately got up, desperation taking over you. "Here I am, let him go."

"Now, why should I do that?" The man snorted. "He betrayed me and ran off to be a goddamn smuggler, I should just blow his head off."

"No!" You yelled, your voice cracking. "He has a daughter and a wife- your deal is with me, let him go."

Joel looked up at you as best as he could while his head was pressed on the ground. You couldn't believe he, your lover, used to run with them- with him.

"Are you possibly the wife you spoke of?" The man grinned at you.

"No, you imbecile-!" You lied through your teeth and he seemed to be buying it so far. "You've already destroyed enough families, just let the man go... You'll be satisfied enough while killing me."

"You're quite right," The man nodded thoughtfully. "I'll enjoy ripping you apart... But you know what? Since you're cooperating with me so nicely and, well, since he used to be my second in command -brothers in arms and whatnot- I'll spare him."

You exhaled in relief, not letting it creep up into your expression however. Suddenly, he kicked Joel in the nose and knocked him out: "In two hours, I'll send a man here and if he's still knocked out, I'm going to kill him."

You knew Joel would be up in less than two hours, so you kept quiet and stared at the man, hard. There's got to be a way out of this...

"Well, shall we?" The man snapped his fingers at someone behind you and they kicked the back of your knee to bring you on your knees while your hands were behind your head. The man took your rifle from you and with the back of it, hit you in the head, making your vision go black.

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #tlou x reader #the last of us #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us x reader #SoundCloud

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noszkass · 3 years

Text

ashley tempest winthrope.

thirty six. defense attorney. jai courtney.

“You're supposed to grow out of your horridness, aren't you? I don't think I ever grew out of mine. Sometimes I think it's still inside me, like something nasty I swallowed, that got stuck...”

content warning: mentions toxic, co-dependent relationships; abuse; death of a peer/family member (via murder).

dominant traits. logical, charismatic, gentleman, stoic, focused, patient, selectively affectionate, charming, observant, cautious, possessive, unpredictable, self-preserving, forceful, obsessive, demanding, melancholic, aggressive, irritable, distrusting, unrelenting, loyal, easily jealous, less hair-trigger more berserk button, no-nonsense, quick thinking, dishonest.

fictional parallels. elijah mikaelson (the originals); geralt of rivia (the witcher); henry winter (the secret history); pope cody (animal kingdom); richie gecko (fdtd the series).

○ born into the winthorpe family; known for their successful generational family law practice, as councilmen from neighboring townships, and good for nothin' criminals who latched onto the teat of a community that's long-since given up on them like leaches─depending on what side of miriam's well it is you live in. ashley's particular branch is the former. estate house in rosebush hill drive, debutant turned matron belle mother who just can't seem to find her way around or out of other people's business (including, if not almost invariably, that of all three of her children), and a certain amount of respectability he was brought up to live by.

○ on the surface ashley winthorpe is a deliciously handsome man. wealthy and put together. takes pride in his appearance and family name. he's also well-mannered and polite, and thoughtful in such infinitesimal ways that you never really think much of until after the fact. and there is something so very not right about him. he has a kind smile that never quite reaches the edges of his eyes and though it doesn't necessarily look disingenuous, there's something about it that doesn't exactly leave you with a sense of ease. like an unfamiliar gesture that's been practiced over and over, so many times that it's lost meaning. like it takes the muscles in his face a moment to pull before they settle in the correct spots. he'll have a conversation with you and while at times it seems he's looking right through you, others will have his attention so intensely undivided it feels as if you've been bared naked and left in a cold room. like you've just been caught lying about something and he knows. somehow, he's known all along. because he listens intently when you speak to him and you suspect somehow he never forgets a single thing he's heard.

○ there's no mistaking his booming voice, jarring, even at a whisper sending shockwaves through your core that has you on high alert. even when it's soft and lulling (in an attempt to offer comfort or catching him melt into the woman he's declared the love of his goddamn life from the corner of your eye through the crack in his office door), there's something threatening that looms. less like hard blunt force and more like a living, breathing fog that blankets you with strong arms, settles deep into your gut, coils itself around your innards, and wrings you dry. the confusing part? you know, without a doubt, he would protect you with no hesitation and ask for nothing in return. and, most of the time, you'd be right. because ashley winthorpe is a good man. no matter how your instincts thrash, screaming at you otherwise.

plot hooks.

i apologize, some of these are all very specific to a singular plot and i could've just included them in a legit request 😬🙃

○ sandbox love never dies. a very specific and imperfect friend group cast in the roles of bastard, bleeding heart, damaged, golden, grim, ingénue, temptress, and wild card. they've been together since any of them can remember. spent their whole lives dreaming about trying to get out of miriam's well, but instead only found tragedies that bind them to each other. tragedies, usually, of their own making. you'll be able to read a little more about these characters in the sandbox love request, which i promise is coming!! there is a doc in the works with more information + a plot server, so expect to be part of those things if you take one of these babes!

○ his secretary. in the past he's helped her out with something legally and she's kind of in his debt, though he insists time and time again she owes him nothing of the sort. i figured it'd be something along the lines of strong holding an ex-boyfriend or husband who wouldn't leave her alone (making her miserable, or something like refusing to pay child support he'd been ordered to pay, dragging her name through the mud, etc. general nuisances to nip in the bud/bad behavior in need of correcting before they became worse as they usually do. you get the idea), because that's notoriously right up his alley. likely using non-legal means to get there; intimidation is sort of his thing. and while he may not be the type of boss or co-worker who meets you for drinks after you clock out, he does have an affection for every single one of his employees and seeing as how she works with him the most, she'd be near the top of that list. maybe she was intimidated by him in the beginning and now she knows he's not everything he appears to be. and they have an understanding.

○ the weight of his guilt. [cw: murder. this will come much later in the plot!] the winthorpes are a family on two very extremes of a type of people. [the bastard] is his cousin on his father's side, a wayward little sister who got knocked up by someone unbefitting of the family and then marrying someone worse by their standards when the father got himself put away over an affair or something just as unbecoming. ashley was always raised closely with [the bastard], his father's hope to sway the boy of many wasted talents to the right side of the family, to make something of himself. but he's a product of his lineage. and only ever finds situations for ash to get him out of. eventually, [the bastard] who he will murder, cold and bloody and bury at the base of an old oak tree will disappear. and ashley's guilt will cause him to reach out. as far as anyone knew, they were the best of friends. always together (even if that relationship was practically handwrought by his father, and he had little-to-no patience for his cousin's antics). it'll be only natural that he come by every now and again to check on them, show care, help fix up things around the house that [the bastard] would have if he were still around. because it'll ultimately be ash's fault he's gone. partially. [the bastard] will deserve what he gets and no one who'll know will be able to convince him anything otherwise, but his family didn't deserve the fallout that came after. maybe a parent or sibling or someone [the bastard] claimed to love while making his way through the female population of miriam's well.

○ the other two winthrope children. they're expected to be upstanding citizens to combat the trash reputation the other winthrope side creates. father is one of a long line of lawyers (with a main practice just outside of town, ashley's secondary office in mw because he prefers it here) and mother is a homemaker whose extracurriculars might as well be solid, paying jobs. they have three children together; ashley (being the oldest son), a daughter magnolia (and the only girl -- taken by sage), and the youngest son, credence (who is very likely expected to join the family business, like ashley). i don't expect anyone to make the parents even though that would be incredible? but they all still have rooms at their home in rosebush hill drive to use at their leisure. it wouldn't at all be out of the question that some of the children still live there -- especially the daughter if she's unwed. they're very old fashioned southern that way. they do these big family events where everyone is expected to participate, go on vacations and holidays together, and church on sundays regardless of your personal beliefs on the matter (that you had very well better keep to yourself if they don't align, ashley has learned). their grandfather also lives in the family house after losing grandma a few years back.

#halfmoonrp #type: blurb #ch: ashley winthrope

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penisman420-69 · 3 years

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A gentle glow from the computer screen washes over the dark desk, colors flickering in rapid motion. The monitor whirs in self defense of the growing heat. The ceiling fan lays mockingly silent in the stifling air. Reclined in his seat, Dream's head is tilted back to watch the wooden slats for the slightest tremor.

Betrayal.

Beads of sweat collect near his hairline. He tugs absently on the sticky plastic of his headphones, where they rest around his neck. The small light on the exterior blinks green.

"Dream?" He hears George say faintly.

"Wait, did he leave?" Sapnap asks.

"It says he's on the call, still." George's voice slowly grows closer. Dream begins to detach his eyes from the fan. "Dream?"

The concern in his voice makes Dream sit up. He pushes his headphones back on and wipes his face. "Yes, yes, hello, sorry. I zoned out for a sec." He blinks to register what's on his screen, seeing green grass blocks and Sapnap's avatar crouching in front of him. "Shoot, did you end the stream?" He quickly tabs out just in time to see George laugh.

"No, but I'm about to. Couldn't end it without you saying bye," George says. The small considerate act is enough to bloom a warmth in Dream's chest.

He smiles. "Oh, alright. Bye stream!"

"Bye!" Sapnap yells.

George waves to the camera. "Bye you guys, thank you so much. Also, pray for Dream's air conditioning."

"And my broken fan," Dream adds.

"Bye bye," George repeats, then disappears from Dream's view. This stream has ended. A familiar feeling creeps into Dream's chest whenever that message appears post-stream; disappointment clouded with confusion. Today, it is accompanied by trickles of regret.

He frowns. "Sorry I spent so much of your stream complaining about the weather," he says, clicking back to the server. Sapnap has placed an oak sign before him that reads: wee waa dream can't take the heat. He rolls his eyes and breaks it.

"It's fine, really. I just feel bad for you," George says. His avatar bounds over and starts placing doors on the ground. "Any idea when it'll be fixed?"

"Soon, I hope," Dream answers with a huff, opening and closing the doors to appease George. "I don't think I can take much more of this." They'd been playing for the past three hours, meaning Dream had been accumulating enough sweat in his boxers to stick to his chair for much longer than any man should. Physical comfort was a key component for him to stay mellow, and not much could distract him from itchy tags and blistering heat. Not much, that is, besides gaming. "Seeing you was nice, though, something about your cheerful face distracts me from my agony," he confesses, words leaving his mouth before he can attempt to filter. He cringes. What was that?

"Oh my god, shut up," George says. He sounds embarrassed.

Sapnap coos. "Maybe I should stream with my camera on too."

Dream laughs, running away from the two of them to ease his sudden spike in nervousness. "That would keep my attention."

"Oh yeah, are my streams not interesting enough for you Dream?" George says, flying after him.

"What?" Dream says, feeling a pang of guilt. "What makes you think that? I love your streams."

George continues to act offended. "If you loved them you wouldn't zone out randomly."

"I didn't mean to," Dream whines, which only makes the other two laugh. "I just got distracted by my misery, and tried to airbend a breeze in here."

"Yeah right," Sapnap says, "you couldn't have been doing just that for ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?" Dream repeats, bewildered. He didn't feel it had been that long; he was exploring the map and then clicked onto George's stream to see where he was, and of course George was smiling and yelling, but somehow so full of energy and spirit, and the hot air started to seep into Dream's soul—

"You were AFK for a while," George says, "we were still talking to you though and thought you'd muted yourself or something. Chat thought it was embarrassing."

"Oh," Dream says.

"Hold on, did you mean to mute yourself?" Sapnap asks, laughing as his own words leave his mouth. "Lil too excited watching George?"

Both Dream and George explode in disgusted yells. Good lord, Sapnap.

"Sapnap!" George sends a series of hits raining down onto his avatar. "You are so inappropriate off-stream."

"You're gross," Dream says with a laugh, but it's feeble and half-hearted. His pulse is rapidly drumming inside his skull. He is not lost to the strange dilemma of why he faded from their call for so long to stare at his George-less ceiling. Why did George have anything to do with it? Envy, perhaps, of his friend's ability to be wearing a hoodie in the middle of summer. He brushes it off. "It's true, though. George's face does get me excited."

George groans, making Sapnap and Dream laugh. "Now you're just trying to make me uncomfortable."

"Flustered, you mean," Dream inputs quickly.

"Okay, no, I'm sick of you two," George says, immediately exiting their server. "Consider this a rage quit."

GeorgeNotFound has left the game. Dream sends a :( into the chat.

"Noo, Georgie," Sapnap pleads.

"You did a great job today," Dream says, wholeheartedly. "I'm going to re-watch what I missed of it later." George laughs.

"I seriously have to go. I'll talk to you soon," he says, a small sound emitting from Discord signifying he's left the call.

The feeling returns to Dream's chest—it's akin to the cold rush that follows when he removes his hands from a steaming coffee mug. Some nights after their friends have logged off for good, he'll do anything to avoid giving in and going to bed. Twitter, mini-games, coding, creating playlists. His favorite nights, though, are when George wakes up early enough to keep him company. Their conversations radiate with the warmth of both the Florida night and the English sunrise.

So whenever George jokingly becomes angry with him, Dream can't dispel the tiny tremor of worry that maybe he's gone too far. He doesn't like to mull over the thought of them really fighting; it would terrify him like nothing else. He knows George will call again tomorrow, and that he isn't nearly as upset as he lets on. Yet he still finds himself carefully watching the dot next to George's name switch from green to a pale grey.

"I think I'm gonna hop off too," Dream says to Sapnap.

"Alright, seeya."

After disconnecting, he swivels around in his chair to face his bed. The dark comforter has been kicked to the floor, sheets askew. The window above his bed is shut tight to keep out the humid air and insects, but he can see the soft orange streetlights in the distance.

He sighs and wishes for rain.

He remembers running barefoot on his neighborhood streets as a child when storms would roll in from the sea, splashing in gravelly puddles and letting the cool raindrops dampen his hair. That space was always euphoric—a brief temperance from the smoldering air, green palm trees swaying in the wind, the hint of thunder and lightning—but it feels so far from him now. Especially in this dreadful weather.

He turns off his computer and begrudgingly gets in bed. He's nearly grown accustomed to the dark when his phone vibrates, the notification lighting up the room. He squints.

A text from George.

I feel like this song is a good way for me to get back at you, it reads. Dream clicks on the link, opening his Spotify to a new 'Glass Animals' song.

"Heat Waves," he responds, smiling. Very funny.

He'll listen to that in the morning. As he sets his phone back on the nightstand, Dream finds himself warmed by the gesture, even though it was an insult on his behalf. George is a thoughtful guy. Nothing wrong with appreciating that. Not that Dream finds it unnerving that interacting with George has a direct correlation with his general contentment and moods; in fact, it isn't worth the overthinking.

Settled by his own logic, he allows his body to focus on sleep. He slips in and out of shadows, occasionally tossing and turning in irritation at the cotton sheets. The fabric clings to his dampened skin up to the moment he sluggishly kicks it away. Something clatters to the floor, but Dream rolls onto his side.

Eventually, the night cools enough for him to sink deeper, and deeper, until he turns his head from his soft, warm pillow to a cold pile of sand.

Confused, he grasps at the foundation beneath him only for the rocky grains to slip through his fingers.

He sits up rapidly, glancing at the beach now surrounding him. Although the image is narrow, he can tell there is a murky-purple lagoon lapping a few feet before him. The moon ripples across its ominous surface. The night is quiet; a taunting breeze brushing the back of his neck and bringing chills down his spine.

He looks down at his hands, seeing his bright sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms. Bright green.

A sinking feeling begins to rot in his stomach as the familiarity sets in. He's been here before. He shifts his head cautiously, realizing where the shadows at the edge of his vision are coming from, and raises a hand to gently graze the ceramic covering his face. He doesn't need a mirror to know what the mask looks like.

He pulls up his hood, tensing as he anticipates the next subject he'll recognize. At any moment, behind his right shoulder, a voice will call from the edge of the trees that'll say—

"Dream?"

He freezes. That's—that's not right, it isn't supposed to be—

"George?" He asks quietly, turning around with caution. George stands a few feet behind him, goggles perched atop his head and an axe in his hand. He's looking around their location, dazed. The starry sky reflects itself on his lenses.

He walks across the sand towards Dream slowly. "Where...are we?"

"Um." Dream considers curling in on himself, but can't help fighting the comfort of honesty. "My head, I guess." He knows from experience that this place values integrity more than anything. Facing it head on, so to speak. He just doesn't know why he'd let George in here—it isn't safe.

"It's pretty," George says, sitting on the sand next to him.

Dream's heart aches faintly at his remark. Once, he'd thought it was pretty, too. He can't find the words to tell George that after so many years of frantically slipping on the sand, coughing up lung-fulls of the dark water, and running from the woods—it has become a thing of nightmares.

He stares at George. Can he feel the memories here?

"So this is..." George gestures around with his axe vaguely. "Florida?"

Dream cracks a smile. "Yeah, you finally made it," he teases softly. George's grin is bright enough to make him look away. "It's a lagoon I used to come to as a kid."

"You make it sound like that was lifetimes ago."

Something foreign and lost weighs on the tension in Dream's features, forgotten behind the ceramic. "Maybe," he says, "I've had multiple lives here."

George says nothing. He lifts a moon-soaked hand to point at the water. "Do you see those?"

Dream turns his head, and small glowing blobs appear near the shore. Their light blue color is stark against the darkness as they float idly.

"They're moon jellies," Dream says in disbelief. He's never seen them here before. The curling darkness steals all hint of life besides him, his beating heart, and occasional whispers in the wind.

George hums in approval. Dream looks at him again, grateful for the mask covering his own features. Pale moonlight makes George's skin glow a soft porcelain, pink lips pressed together in a delicate brush stroke.

The word bubbles up from deep in Dream's chest, winding into his bloodstream and landing gracefully in his head.

Beautiful.

He wants to back away from it, to shove it deep down. But for once, it feels safe here, safe to admit it to himself without needing an air of humor to skate by on. Here, it isn't a joke.

"Why are we here?" George asks in a murmur, gaze lifting to face Dream. The word here hangs with a heavy lilt, as if he'd meant to say, what brought me? Who pulled me?

Was it you?

In his large brown eyes Dream can see the faded reflection of his sloppy black and white smile.

"I know why I'm here," Dream says carefully, "but I don't know why you are." A brief rustling of leaves and twigs behind them causes him to tense again. "It's dangerous here, George. We should go."

"Why? Don't you want to stay in this memory?"

Dream ignores the comment, and lightly wraps an arm around his shoulders to help him up. George doesn't try to stand. He keeps them rooted to the white shore with a confused frown.

"Nothing is going to hurt us when I'm here," he says.

Dream feels his face grow hot. "Knock it off. This is serious."

George looks at him earnestly. "I'm being serious."

Now that his arm is draped protectively over George's small frame, Dream becomes extremely aware of how close they are. He can sense George's body heat, watch his chest rise and fall, see the goosebumps on his neck. Dream's heart begins to pound. For how long has he wanted to meet him? To hear his voice in person? The fear inside him slowly begins to ebb away into fondness.

The moon jellies rapidly multiply until the lagoon is dappled blue, and gleaming.

George grins. "I told you it's pretty."

"Because of you," Dream says warmly. Even though George rolls his eyes, he means it. They laugh lightly at each other, glowing water and gentle sparks blooming as the moment passes.

George's gaze lingers on Dream for a few heartbeats, before letting go of his axe. He raises his hand to reach for the ceramic mask.

Dream freezes as his eyes follow the motion. His hood falls when George runs his fingers gently through his wavy hair—he can't remember the last time he let someone do this. It feels intimate. It feels terrifying. His eyes shut when George finds the metal clasp on the back of his head, he exhales when he feels the weight of the mask drop from his face.

The breeze is cold on his cheeks. He can smell the nearby saltwater. He opens his eyes, and sees twice as many stars as usual.

"How did you do that? I've never..." He looks at George, who is smiling softly.

"I know honesty is important to you," George says. His hand moves to gently touch Dream's cheekbone.

Dream reaches and delicately takes George's hand in his, slender knuckles and fingers sliding together with timid grace. He feels alive. He leans closer, studying George's eyes until he slips down, further, to his soft lips. His breath is trembling.

"And what if I kissed you right now?" He murmurs, heart racing. "How honest would that be?"

George's eyes grow wide. "I—well, Dream—you—" he stammers, giving Dream exactly what he needs to let go.

Their movements happen nearly all at once—the inclining of George's jaw, the slide of Dream's hand into his hair, the connection of their lips. The kiss is raw with emotion, and gentle. Hot embers rise from Dream's chest to heat his face. The soft presence of George's mouth against his own is surreal, as their senses collectively slip away into the dreamland. His hand rises to softly cup George's jaw. He pulls his face closer, breath hot, heart stuttering. Nervous energy quickly ebbs into a strong hearth of longing, as he kisses George again, and again, and again. George emits a soft noise that makes Dream melt. He can feel George's hands in his hair, then on his neck, then on his chest.

Dream pulls away to capture brief puffs of air. His chest rises and falls rapidly, as he looks at George's flushed cheeks and mouth kissed red. Because of him. A low feeling stirs in the space just below his ribcage, the first flickering of a dangerously hot flame. All of it, all of George, just for him.

Dream parts his lips to say something, anything—and promptly wakes up.

I have heatwaves saved on my computer it doesn't phase me anymore I've read this several times you can't hurt me with this

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rikuphobic · 3 years