#exit betty

[bluedesertbruja]

that board meeting where they make betty president and they have to tell hugo's annoying ass and he starts throwing insults for no reason other than to be cruel, betty should have stood up and been like 'okay i'm not putting up with this, so figure it out or no deal'.

[bobbie-robron]

I have never loved anyone the way that I love you. Why would I wanna get married if I didn’t? (Part 2.1)

At the farm, Daz doesn’t get why Robert and Andy are always ‘scrapping over’ Katie (she’s no Angelina Jolie 😂). A distraught Katie leans on Andy. Betty goes down in flames when she wants the lowdown from the Kings on Sadie, Jimmy and Robert. Robert and Sadie are the talk of the pub (so Chas saw Robert as a ‘gangly runt’ at that time 🙄). Tom explains his reasoning for sacking Katie to Jimmy and Matthew. Robert talks to Katie saying he loves her and never lied to her but it all falls flat when Sadie rings his mobile and Katie answers the call then checks his texts… They are done!

10-May-2005

[seresinhangmanjake]

Come Back Knockin'

Benny Cross x reader (the bikeriders fic)

Summary: When Benny finds out you're pregnant, he panics and takes off. You don't think he's ever going to come back to you, so you start trying to figure out your future without your husband by your side. And then one day, there's a knock at your door.

Notes/Warnings: *Spoiler free*, lots of cursing, mentions of abandonment, angst but not forever, mention of pregnancy, probably typos.

Words: 2900

Part 2: Come Back Together Benny Cross Masterlist 

“Benny, where are you going!” you cry, watching in disbelief as he turns away from you and exits your shared bedroom. “Benny!”

He doesn’t stop at your call. Doesn’t even flinch. Your voice is a pathetic grasp around his wrist that he shakes off like a pesky mosquito. He’s leaving, you realize, and when your body finally catches up with that understanding, you rush after him. 

His strides are long, double the length of yours, and he’s already got his jacket off the hook and is pulling it over his shoulders by the time you’re able to close in on him.

“Benny, don’t go!” you wail in a desperate plea, but it’s still useless, and a moment later you’re chasing him out the front door into the rain. “Please!”

You’re both drenched in an instant, hair stuck to your heads like a pair of drowned alley cats. Your nipples pebble through your thin, white nightgown that now shows every curve of your figure. The denim on his body deepens a few shades of blue from absorbing every drop of the downpour. 

“Benny!” you try once more. 

He doesn’t so much as glance over his shoulder as he crosses the street toward his bike, so you stop your chase before your bare feet leave the last step of your front porch. All you can do is watch. Watch his long leg swing over the seat of the bike. Watch him kick the beast to life. Watch how he glows angelic-like under the intense ray of the streetlight; a spotlight on the man you love who is running away from you. 

You don’t bother calling for him again. Your voice would only be muffled by the relentless drumming of heavy rain on pavement. Benny leans forward, and without checking for other vehicles, pulls into the street and drives until the darkness of night claims every speck of light from his bike. 

He’s gone. 

And you’re alone. 

—

You hadn’t expected him to be overjoyed by the news—it’s why you waited nearly three weeks to tell him—but you didn’t foresee such anger over the actuality of being a father. When you told him you were pregnant, his face had darkened in a manner you’ve only witnessed right before his fist meets the jaw of a rival biker. And, in some respect, he'd treated you the same. Like you were a pest, a nuisance, an object put in his path solely for the sake of pissing him off; the difference being that Benny would never lay a hand on you. So instead, he'd left.

On day three of your husband’s absence, Johnny had stopped by to ‘see if the kid was still alive,’ and you were left with the burden and embarrassment of telling him that Benny had skipped town. Johnny had asked why, of course, so you told him, and by the way his features twisted from surprise to desolation, you knew he also saw little hope in your husband returning to you. 

Benny has had his reasons for not wanting to be a father, failure a prominent knot in the back of his mind, but it’s not as if you planned this. It was an accident. An accident that you can’t just wish away because he doesn’t know how to handle being what you and this baby need him to be. 

“I’m real sorry, sweetheart,” Johnny had said. You’d done your best to hold in the tears while long beats of melancholy silence passed between you. “Listen, you ever need anythin’, you know Betty and me, we love ya, so…”

You’d nodded, wrapping your arms around your middle to stave off a sudden chill. “Thanks, Johnny.” 

He nodded as well, then he'd sighed and glanced around your quiet street as if expecting to see Benny ride up any second. “Well,” he said once it was clear neither of you would be finding that relief, “don’t be a stranger.”

He’d left after that and you haven’t seen him since. Not because you don’t appreciate him, but because he reminds you too much of Benny. Betty had called a few times—she’s as much a mother figure to you as Johnny was to Benny—but you weren’t very forthcoming with enthusiasm at talking baby plans and motherhood. At one point, in an effort to lift your spirits, she’d even mentioned throwing a shower, which immediately made you drop the phone and rush to the bathroom to lose your breakfast. 

When you’d returned, the phone was dangling by the coiled cord, Betty’s concerned voice coming through the speaker. You’d put it up to your ear, told her you'd call her back, and hung up the damn thing. You didn’t call her back. You think she got the message. 

In the weeks that have passed, many of the guys have come by to check on you, and in the beginning, you were somewhat receptive, but it was solely to abstain from hurting feelings and severing ties so harshly. You’re positive the relationships won’t last. You were in the biker lifestyle because of Benny. He brought you into a pre-established family unit, and without him, you don’t belong. 

You know the day may come when you regret letting the club go. Its members are the only people who have reached out their hands to you, but for now, you’re too numb to care, and with that numbness comes self-destruction. And with your particular brand of self-destruction comes isolation. Solitude. Loneliness. You’ve put yourself in place to navigate the future alone. Finding a job to support your child, hoping you’ll make enough so you don’t lose your house—that’s your priority now, and you have no choice but to step up and figure it out. 

—

As it turns out, no one wants to hire a pregnant woman. Well, no one you’ve contacted wants to hire a pregnant woman, but you’re willing to bet they’re a decent indicator of most companies' future rejection. 

It’s your own fault. You shouldn’t be telling them of your condition, but your bones are built of honesty and when they ask if you’ll be able to work long-term, you don’t hesitate to reveal the truth. In fact, the truth is out of your mouth before the thought to lie slithers into your head. 

You’re going to have to toughen up, be someone you’re not used to being, if you intend to survive. And that’s all you let yourself think about anymore. When Benny slips into your thoughts, you work tirelessly to shove him aside. It’s taken practice, self-discipline, but you’ve made some progress. Just yesterday you were finally able to overcome your urge to run to the window at hearing the grumble of a motor passing by your house. 

The next goal is to bag up his clothes and stow them away in the attic, but you’ve yet to face his side of the closet without breaking down. And to make it all the more agonizing, the fabrics still smell like him. You could wash them five times over and it would do nothing to remove his scent.

Sometimes, at the peak of your pathetic impulses, you want to sneak inside and bury yourself amongst the cheap and tattered clothes. Turn them into a blanket. Forget everything. But you’ve managed to resist.

Baby steps, you internally repeat as you bring a spoonful of cereal to your lips. You like the sugary stuff now. The stuff that kids gobble down before school. Bad for an expectant mother, yes, but you’re not about to scold yourself for what little enjoyment you find in this life. 

Suddenly, a knock taps on the door. Your head shoots up and your heartbeat stutters at the sound, but you don’t move to answer it. These days, it’s rare you answer it at all. The guys know not to bother you, as do Betty and Gail and Kathy. If they see you’re home, they leave their tupperware-filled home-cooked meals at your doorstep, knowing you’ll grab them once they leave. Anyone else—salesmen or mailmen or whomever—always gives up after a few minutes. 

However, this knocking has yet to cease. It must be a salesman, you think with a groan, and he must not have gotten the memo from other neglected salesmen that you’re a house to avoid. You can’t afford the latest vacuum model, you don’t care to own a stack of encyclopedias, and for the love of god, if you have to tell one more well-dressed man that your missing-in-action biker husband is not in need of a new shaving brush you’re gonna start keeping Benny’s handgun on the entryway table. 

The tapping turns into full-fledged banging that shakes the house, and now you’re irritated, offended on the weathered structure’s behalf. Your chair scrapes across the floor as you stand sharply and round the corner into the hall. A curse is on your lips as you wrap your hand around the knob, twist, and pull, but it dies. More than dies, it’s sucked right out of your lungs along with your breath. 

You want to slap him, split his puffy lips and watch the blood run down his chin. You want to shove him back so he’ll fall down the stairs and land on his ass. You want to get your breath back because that curse is clawing for freedom and you desperately want to let it out. But you can’t. You’re frozen.

He looks like shit. Well, as much as Benny Cross can look like shit, which is quite unimpressive compared to other men, but at least he doesn’t look well-rested. There’s some satisfaction in that, limited as it may be. 

“Hi, baby,” he says. The low tone shudders your spine. If he’s happy to see you he doesn’t show it, but you know that even if he is, he wouldn’t dare smile after what he did. 

Your swallow is hard, painful, and as the ease with which he spoke those two words sinks in, every emotion you’ve felt since he vanished bubbles over the edge of your resolve.

“‘Hi, baby’?” you echo. “Are you serious? That’s the best you’ve got, you asshole?” Your hand smacks against his chest and the unexpectedness of it forces him to stumble back a foot. You follow his stumble, stepping out onto the porch. “It’s been six weeks, Benny!”

He sighs, holding his hands up in surrender. “I know.”

“Six fucking weeks!” With your second smack, his fingers latch around your wrist, but he doesn’t push your hand away, he keeps it planted above his heart, refusing to let you go. 

Dipping his head, he stares directly into your eyes. The intensity momentarily stuns you. “I know,” he repeats.

“Oh, you know,” you say, trying to jerk out of his grasp. “You abandon your pregnant wife and you think knowing that you’ve done it means a damn thing to me? Fuck off!”

“No,” he calmly replies.

“Yes!” you bark.

“No.”

Tears begin to cloud your vision. He disappeared and broke your heart at the worst possible time and now that you don’t want him here, he refuses to leave. And how horrible, how fucking humiliating to have your husband dismiss your desires so flippantly. 

“I hate you!” you snap.

“I love you.”

“You left!”

“I panicked.” His free hand lands on your shoulder and slides up your neck to cup your cheek. “I panicked, baby,” he says softly.

That gentle tone pierces your skin against your will and seeps into your veins, spreading throughout your body a sedating sensation. Just enough of the drug to slow your violent pulse without knocking you out completely. And in the absence of such potent rage, sorrow takes over. 

Your bottom lip quivers. Salty drops create lines down your cheeks and drip off your chin onto the rotting floorboards beneath your feet. He was supposed to replace those. It was going to be a summer project but a month and a half has already been carved out of the season and the floorboards still bow under your weight.

“Why were you allowed to panic?” you whimper. “I didn’t get to panic, so how come you got to?”

He sighs, his calloused thumb stroking your cheek. He doesn’t have a response but you didn’t expect one, at least not one with any substance, so you continue. “You know what I’ve been doing while you were out panicking? Trying to find a job so I can afford this house and provide for our child the way a parent should. But no one’s been willing to hire me.”

Benny’s brow pinches and his grip on your hand tightens. Broad shoulders fall forward as if you've just placed a few hefty boulders upon them. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he breathes. “I’m sorry. I shoulda been protecting you from those kinds of worries. I shoulda been here.”

“Well, you weren't.”

“I'm gonna be,” he tells you, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe that you believe him. “I am.”

You wish you could trust his word. You wish it was that simple. You wish you were more forgiving, but a situation conflicting enough to require this level of forgiveness is not something you’ve dealt with before. You’ve experienced loss in your life, and you know it well—your father left and your mother disengaged from motherhood, but neither were so rude as to put you in a place to contemplate forgiveness for their betrayal. Neither came back to request it. 

“Will you wait here?” he asks, “and not lock me out when my back is turned? Please?”

You’re severely tempted to do just that because, frankly, he’s made you wait for him long enough. But for some reason, you don't. You cast your gaze aside, cross your arms, and after a couple of seconds, nod your head. 

In your peripherals, you detect his light smile. Then he turns, walks back to his bike, and wrestles a brown paper-wrapped package out of the pack attached to his seat.   

“What is this?” you ask as he returns to the porch and offers it to you. 

“If I was just going to tell you then why would I have wrapped it?”

You almost roll your eyes at the image of Benny taking the time to wrap anything for anyone, as normally he’d enlist someone else (you) to do it, but looking at it, it really is a poorly packaged mess. Wrinkled and ripped in one spot, with a lop-sided bow tied from the string that’s holding the parcel together. Definitely Benny-quality work for this sort of task.

As you tear through the wrapping, Benny collects your scraps, balling the shredded paper together and setting that ball down on the porch railing. The small blanket in your hands is made of bright green fabric with fringed trim, and when you unfold it, hanging it high to get a look at the full thing, you see a white duckling embroidered into one of the corners. 

You lower the blanket so you can meet Benny's eyes. “Why a duck?”

He sticks his hands in his front pockets and shrugs. “They didn't have any with little Harley’s,” he teases.

To your great internal shame, you have to choke down a chuckle. His innocent joke instantly reminds you that he’s the one man who can make you laugh, the one who won you over because of his subtle wittiness and his less subtle charm. And now you fucking miss him, damn it. You’d convinced yourself you’d gotten over that, but even as he stands within touching distance, holding distance, kissing distance, you miss him.  

He clears his throat. “Um…if you don't like it I can–”

“No,” you stop him, shaking your head. “I don't particularly like you at the moment, but…” You exhale and give the gift another glance. “I like the blanket.”

Benny nods. His adam’s apple bobs harshly in his throat as you refold the blanket and clutch it to your chest. 

“You think you could like me again one day?” he asks. “You know, if I prove myself real well.”

Your eyes narrow as they flick up to his ocean blues. “Prove yourself as what?”

“A husband,” he says. “A father.”

A husband. A father. One of which he’s been good at in the past—prior to the disappearing act, of course—and one of which you used to believe he’d be good at in the future if that was where fate led you, which it has. But…you don't know. 

You have two options. That’s it. Yes or no. Can you risk it or not? It’s a lot to take in but the reality is, there’s a question you must answer before you can answer any others—did the bomb he threw at your lives shatter your heart to an unmendable state? 

You chew on your cheek, your jaw ticks, and then with a huff, you straighten your spine. 

“You can never do this again,” you declare firmly, poking your index finger into the center of his chest. “I mean it, Benny. If you do, we won't be here when you come back.”

The ropes of rigidness unravel from his body. “Baby, this is where I wanna be,” he says, stepping into your space once more. “I promise.”

You can feel your heartbeat jackrabbiting from his closeness now that your overwhelming emotions have somewhat subsided.

“You’re sleeping on the couch,” you tell him.

Benny grins. “That's fair.”

---

maybe a part 2? Let me know :)

Updated Taglist (if you wanna join)

[saintvainglorious]

Fics I Enjoyed in December - DC Comics Fic Rec List

Fell headfirst back into DC Comics for the first time in years this month. Reread some old favorites and discovered some new gems!

My January DC Comics fic rec list is here!

Heart, Humble by Betty (Mature, 8k, 2005) Jack Drake deals with finding out that Tim is Robin (poorly, and then not so poorly). THEE canon-accurate Jack Drake-focused fic of all time, this is canon in my heart.

Back then, all the boys his age had hero-worshipped costumed vigilantes. Jack supposes they still do.

Exit Strategy by smilebackwards/@smilebackwards (Teen & Up, 13k, 2021) Tim plans to leave a family he thinks he was never really a part of and decides to train Damian on how to run Wayne Enterprises before he goes. Delicious angst, excellent character work, and fun Wayne Enterprises worldbuilding.

Batman needs a Robin and Batman has a Robin. Tim is just extraneous now, vestigial. He’s a bandage over a healed wound. He doesn’t know what he’s hanging on to. Or: Tim didn’t expect his exit strategy from the Batfamily to involve quite so much bonding time with Damian over Wayne Enterprises bureaucracy.

On the Downbeat by medusaceratops (Teen & Up, 2k, 2019) Bruce and Jason talk while waiting in line at a drive-thru (featuring Gotham-typical violence and husborth-typical gorgeous prose). I've always adored husborth's Star Wars fics and I'm so glad I dipped my toe into their DC works, no one's writing hits quite like husborth.

Jason has recovered his sanity, and Bruce and Jason have recovered their relationship; but there are some things that are hard to forget.

A Zoo for Canines by medusaceratops (Mature, 45k, 2019) Part 2 of Zoology; Dick and Jason try to help Bruce recover from addiction. If you're used to fanon Dick Grayson (cheery, friendly, forgiving) you will not find him here - his anger and pain is ugly, raw, and so fucking captivating.

Edit: This fic and the series has since been deleted off ao3, though Part 1 (An Aquarium of Nameless Things) is still up; DM me if you'd like to read it.

Dick, Bruce, and Jason head out to a cabin in the mountains, and they handle things about as well as they handle anything.

All the Roofs of Uncertainty by Kieron_ODuibhir/@kieron-oduibhir (General Audiences, 70k, 2015) Dick almost dies and makes Jason promise to take care of the family for him. A masterclass demonstration on how DC fic can square all the wildly divergent canon versions of Jason Todd into a single compelling character.

For all the blood on his hands, Red Hood was never just a villain. And Nightwing never gives up on family, not for good. (Or: The one where Dick bleeds a lot and Jason argues with everybody.)

The Till-Then From the Ever-Since by Kieron_ODuibhir/@kieron-oduibhir (General Audiences, 85k (WIP), 2020) Kid versions of the whole Batfamily mysteriously time travel to the future! I livetexted a friend the whole time I read this so I could yell about how amazing the character writing is; also I'm wildly impressed with how the author deftly handles tons of dialogue-heavy scenes with like 12+ guys in it without anyone going unmentioned.

It began, or seemed to begin, with Jason. Usually that would have meant something in the order of fire and explosion and probably at least one gunshot wound, but for once (as Tim said, sourly), it wasn't actually Jason's fault.

only you will have stars that can laugh by silverwhittlingknife/@silverwhittlingknife (Teen & Up, 9k, 2022) Dick finds out Tim is alone on Christmas and invites him to Babs' Christmas party. Discovered silverwhittlingknife through their galaxy brained Dick & Tim meta essays, stayed for every single line of Chapter 2 ripping out my heart and roasting it over an open flame.

You coming over is possibly the only thing that’s gonna stop me from wanting to punch your dad in the face, Dick doesn’t say. My current Christmas Day plans are 1) pace around at home, and 2) try not to obsess about what Bruce is up to, so trust me, you’ll be an improvement, Dick doesn’t say. Tim's alone on Christmas Eve. Dick finds out, and fixes it.

nerve endings by silverwhittlingknife/@silverwhittlingknife (Teen & Up, 5k (WIP), 2024) Post-Catalina Flores, Dick, Tim, and Bruce go on a (canon-accurate) cruise and dance around their open wounds. This is a glorious example of "he WOULD fucking say that", Dick's voice is so canon-accurate that the angst is even more painful i cri

It's all right, even, to have a foreign hand pressing against his skin, testing him, testing his reactions. He keeps his breathing controlled. Just Tim, damn you, it’s just Tim, don’t fuck it up. Dick's on a cruise with Bruce and Tim. And he's fine. Mostly.

Red Letter Day by silverwhittlingknife/@silverwhittlingknife (Teen & Up, 42k (WIP), 2022) Dick is sure the cryptic scribble in his agenda refers to something he's supposed to do for Damian, but he can't remember what. Mostly about Tim and Dick s l o w l y mending the post-Damian rupture in their relationship, but the whole family is here and Jason, especially, is fucking hilarious.

Dick Grayson, stressed pseudo-parent to a preteen assassin, tries to solve the case of Damian’s Mysterious Wednesday. He never expected it to help him fix his relationship with Tim, too. (… Though only after everything fell apart first.)

Gonna Be A Better One (A Thousand Miles To Your Door) by Traincat/@traincat (Teen & Up, 18k, 2011) Tim and Kon keep dating even after Jack forces Tim to retire as Robin. I reread this fic annually and every time am delighted to rediscover how funny and heartwarming and squee-inducingly kind it is, pure Timkon perfection.

In which Tim quits being Robin, Kon refuses to quit Tim and Ma Kent is full of relationship advice.

last light in a darkened room by bigdamnher0/@bigdvmnhero (Not Rated, 6k, 2024) Tim finds a distressing video of Robin!Dick and wishes that things were different. The whole fic, particularly Tim manifesting a happy ending in the bathroom, is a gorgeously crafted tragedy such that you're left kind of awed at how thoroughly massacred your heart and soul are post-read.

Tuesday morning: a video was uploaded to one of the deep web black markets. The footage, shot on those grainy vintage camcorders. But Tim knew that boy in the thumbnail; his eyes had memorized him, the heft and shape and dazzle of him, imprinting like an afterimage. Or: a brother is a witness; there's your tragedy.

buy back the secrets by sundiscus/@vinelark (Teen & Up, 91k (WIP), 2024) Superboy rescues civilian Tim Drake before learning that Tim is Robin and shenanigans ensue. I spent my whole holiday vacation intermittently screaming at this fic while my family members looked on with vague concern this fic is ADORABLE and AGONIZING and PERFECT please and THANK YOU.

He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.” Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy.

[fanfics-b]

Be Mine

Trigger warning: Cursing, Angst, Unprotected sex, and mentions of Abuse and Addiction.

I step into the student lounge of Riverdale High, and every eye seems to find me. My peers are all lounging on the seats, a mixture between Northside kids and the serpents. I’m not a serpent, but my father and FP are best friends, but after FP fell down the slippery slope of addiction, my father refused to join, although he’s still considering it for protection from my mistakes.

Toni, Fangs, and Sweet Pea are squished together on one of the smaller couches, but when Sweet Pea’s eyes meet mine, he pushes Fang’s body into Toni’s to make room. I step toward them but hesitate, my heart hammering in my ears. Sweet Pea gave me an ultimatum when he snuck through my bedroom window last night bloody and in tears: either I date him officially, or I never speak to him again. And although I want Sweet Pea in every fucking way you can want another human, I can’t date him.

Not because of my father’s distaste for the serpents as I’ve led Pea to believe, but because of a more gruesome reason.

I shift my eyes from the boy I yearn for and search for a safer place to sit before first period. Jughead announces himself by pushing off the wall and stepping before me, eyes wild. Betty’s eyebrows plunge from the corner of my eye, clearly as confused by Jughead as everyone else, but I’m not.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Jughead rushes, nudging his head toward the exit.

“Uh, yeah, of course.”

Hot on his heels, I follow him until we’re alone in a deserted hallway where no one can hear. Jughead grips my wrists lightly and pulls me to stand behind a corner that is out of view of any passerbys . “What are you doing standing there looking braindead?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“It’s Sweet Pea,” I answer. “He finally gave me an ultimatum.” I cringe, my face tingling with the truth. I’m about to lose Sweet Pea.

Jughead and I have been friends since we were in diapers, and our dads were best friends. He knows the truth, the real reason I can’t be with Sweet Pea. I’ve been close to Fangs, Toni, and Sweet Pea for a year now, but before I started spending all my time with them, I ran with a different crowd. A group of people whose leader has a son three years older than me, who took advantage of me, and when I got out of the situation, promised to murder anyone I ever date, and I believe him.

Jughead sighs, placing a finger over his lips in thought. “So what’s your plan? How are you going to break up with him?”

“You can’t break up with someone you’ve never dated,” I whisper, swallowing the lump climbing my throat. “I don’t know what to do, Jughead.”

Jughead tugs his beanie once. “Piss him off? Tell him no? Shit, I don’t Know, Y/n… I don’t really see Sweet Pea staying away from you.”

“He has to,” I urge, gripping Jughead’s free hand and squeezing his fingers. “Please help me keep him away.”

Jughead’s eyes widen. “What would you like me to do?” he asks, growing irritated. “Huh? I’m not the one that ran with those hooligans!” He rips his hand from mine and pokes me in the chest with long fingers. “They’re worse than the ghoulies. You can’t date anyone.”

“I know!” I shriek, my voice echoing off the metal locker. “You think I don’t know that, Jug? You and FP have told me like five times, and then relayed it another five through my father.”

“Okay,” he drawls, holding his hands out in surrender. “Just tell me what to do, okay?”

“I need help,” I yell again, out of breath.

Jughead grips my shoulder, leaning into my face. “Do you want to draw attention to us?” he asks, searching my gaze with panic-stricken eyes.

“Draw attention to what?” someone says from beside us. Shit. My eyes clench and then open slightly to my left to find Sweet Pea breathing heavily as he watches u. Oh Shit.

Jughead drops his hands from my body and turns to Sweet Pea warily. “Sweet Pea,” Jughead begs, “Don’t make assumptions about things you-”

“Fuck you, Jones,” Sweet Pea snaps, stepping in front of me and pushing Jughead backward. “You have my respect because of the serpents, but you won’t be excused if you’re trying to take my girl from me.”

“Sweet Pea!” Fangs calls from the end of the hallway, and I hear leather along the floor, and I know he’s running toward us. “Let it go, Sweet Pea. Let’s ditch,” he begs, appearing beside us.

“Hell no,” Sweet pea growls. “You should hear what I did, Fangs!” he booms, his skin tight with flowing rage.

If he had heard everything, he would be angry for an entirely different reason right now. Jughead and I could never be an item. Besides, he’s with Betty.

A crowd begins to form, Bulldogs barking at Sweet Pea. “All this for a slut,” someone calls from within the crowd.

Sweet Pea breaks; whatever string he had tied between his composure and allowing himself to start a fight in the middle of the school completely snaps in half. He can handle insults thrown at him, and he’s gotten better at remaining calm in situations where his friends are threatened, but when it comes to me, sometimes he can’t handle them even looking at me.

“Who was it?” he yells over the crowd. “Was it you?” he accuses, eyes narrowing on Reggie, who is smiling like a lunatic, clearly pleased by Sweet Pea becoming unhinged. Sweet Pea is eighteen now, and I just turned eighteen as well. We’re both graduating this year; he can’t fuck this up. He just can’t.

“Let’s go, Sweet Pea.” Fangs grips his arm, tugging again. “We can ditch,” he repeats.

Ditching may result in punishment, but it won’t be as bad as it will be if he’s caught fighting again. Toni’s eyes lock with mine in a pleading stare, and I release a breath, stepping behind Sweet Pea. I encase his left hand in both of mine, pulling it from Fang’s grip. At first, he flinches, but when he recognizes my touch, he relaxes, peering down at me.

“Let’s go. You and I can ditch,” I offer, plastering a smile on my fake face.

Fang’s posture relaxes, and he grins a little, thanking me without saying the words.

Sweet Pea tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before sighing and beginning to shake his head. “It was about our dads,” I lie, attempting to keep my voice low, but I know some of the crowd hears me. Sweet Pea knows FP and my father are best friends. “That’s all it was. I swear.”

He releases a breath and nods, turning on his heels and leading me from the school. I follow him to his bike and he passes me my helmet without a word. My heart stings when I realize that even though I didn’t ride with him to school or plan to ride home with him, he still brought the helmet. We agreed to take a break, and he still brought the damn helmet.

Slipping it on, I perch myself behind him, winding my hands around his toned stomach and relaxing against his back.

I’m so screwed.

The wind isn’t brutal today, nor is it very cold, so the drive back to his trailer is actually relaxing and not as tense as I expected it to be. When he parks beside the front door, I hop off and wait for him to kill the engine. I tug my helmet off and place it on my seat, waiting for him to speak as he kicks the stand and dismounts.

“Did Jughead hurt you?” he asks, jaw tense as he searches my eyes for the truth,

“No,” I promise, and he nods once, seeming as if he doesn’t believe me.

He takes my hand, leading me into his home. Sweet Pea closes the door behind us as we enter, and my hands find his chest, as I inhale a breath, hoping he’ll mimic me. The tension emitting from him is choking me so I know it’s suffocating him.

“He had his hands on you,” he states, still tense under my touch.

“Jughead would never hurt me,” I assert, gazing into the brown depth of his eyes. I sweep the hair off his forehead in a gesture that is too intimate and then release him entirely.

Sweet Pea grabs my hands almost angrily and places them back on his chest. I see his heartbeat underneath his serpent tattoo, shaking the skin on his neck. “I want you, Y/n,” he says, sighing. “I want you. All of you. Every fucked up part. Every mistake. Every damn flaw.”

“Pea-”

“Why won’t you let me have you?” he begs me for the truth, his eyes shaking with fear. “It can’t be because of your dad.”

“Sweet Pea…” I start trying to think of a believable lie. I should’ve let him believe Jughead and I were together; that’s better than him getting killed. But I didn’t, because I like Betty. But, honestly, fuck everyone. If pissing everyone off keeps Sweet Pea alive, then so be it.

“I-” I try to tell him my lie, but his lips shut me up. In a rushed move, Sweet Pea tastes me with his slightly parted mouth, drawing in my breaths and drawing out a moan. I attempt to push him back by his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

Pulling his mouth back just enough to graze mine, his lips dance along the sensitive skin with everything I dream of. “Please,” he whispers.

I don’t know exactly what he’s begging for, but then he steps forward, pressing his growing need into my hip, and I succumb to whatever he wants to do with me. My shaking hand cups his jaw and pulls his lips back down to mine, but he refuses, leaning back and cupping my hips.

Sweet Pea spins me around until my back is against his chest. He swiftly tugs my shirt and unhooks my bra, and I allow it to fall to the floor. My head falls against him as his hands wander longingly across my body as if he’s not unfamiliar with the territory but wants to memorize it.

His hand slips into the front of my jeans, and my back arches. “Please,” he mumbles in my ear, kissing my earlobe. “Please, Y/n”

“Yes,” I sputter, unaware of why he’s begging to touch me. “Yes!”

He chuckles in my ear, clearly amused by my arousal, as he taps my underwear once, keeping his hand along the thin fabric. “So ready for me,” he praises. “I fucking love you,” he growls into my neck, kissing and nipping the skin.

And my heart shatters. He’s never said those three words before, never claimed to feel that way toward me, and I never thought he would ever say it. Sweet Pea—the serpent everyone is scared of is confessing his love for me with his hand in my pants.

“Sweet Pea,” I say his name as a plea, arching my back and twisting my hips to create friction. “Don’t tease me.”

In one fast motion, he yanks his hand from my jeans, pops open the button, and discards it and my underwear. I gasp and turn to him to see his shirt flying over his head. I make use of my hands by buttoning and unzipping his dark jeans.

Sweet Pea intertwines his right hand into my hair, twisting along the base of my scalp, and then turns me around again, this time walking me into the kitchen. The walk is short, so I don’t blame him for wanting a change of scenery, but when my breast slams down on the cold countertop, I squeal in shock.

We’ve never done this before. With one hand knotted in my mane, the other trickles down my spine. “Please,” he begs, his voice deep and pleading.

“Yes! Yes! Fuck!” I cry out, unaware of why he keeps asking for permission. We’ve never done this without mutual consent, but damn, he’s asked me like five times.

I feel the heated tip of what I need most from him tap exactly where I need it, causing my body to shiver. Without another word, he pushes inside me, causing my hard nipples to press into the counter. I cry out as he tugs my head back by my hair, creating a sultry rhythm that only Sweet Pea can manage.

His lips trail down my chin as he fucks me, nipping at my collarbone once he reaches the deepest parts of me. “Please, baby,” he begs. “Be mine,” he mumbles into my neck.

My skin scorches with unhinged pleasure and raging pain as I realize what he’s begging for. “Fuck Pea!” I cry out as he releases my hair and touches me where I need him most, pushing me over the edge of desire and despair.

With hands dug into my hips, his rhythm becomes sloppy and faster, alerting me of his orgasm. I don’t move. I’m on birth control, and neither of us is sleeping with anyone else, so the unsafeness of this doesn’t bother me, and neither does it him as he shakes, his fingers digging into my flesh.

I sigh into the counter as his head falls to my back as he calms himself down. “Please be mine, baby,” he says, clearer yet thick with emotion.

“Okay,” I mumble before I can think better of it.

His forehead departs from my sticky skin, and his tattooed thumb tilts my chin to look at him. “Okay?” he asks, clearly seeking confirmation.

“Okay,” I repeat, but my insides protest as they try to rip out my heart. Without the organ that’s lead by desire, I wouldn’t have made this mistake.

“Fuck,” he growls. “Thank you,” he praises, kissing my exposed shoulder. “Let me go run us a bath.”

Sweet Pea disappears, and I smell the lavender seeping from the bathroom as I gather my clothes. Stille bare, I put my clothes atop the couch beside my discarded shoes. I shuffle to the bathroom, heart in my throat, ready to break his, and find him completely bare, sinking into the small tub.

“Join me,” he urges, a small smile curling his lips.

A lone tear escapes my eye. Sweet Pea straightens his body underneath the lavender. “Dammit, did I hurt you?” he asks, panicked, gripping the edge of the white plastic tub. “Come here.”

“No,” I whisper, allowing myself to smile at him one last time. “I just really love you, Sweet Pea,” I promise him. I fucking promise him. Because after tonight, it’s going to seem like I don’t. But I do love him, and I always will.

I dip my toes in the warmth, sinking between his legs with my back to him. He cups my head and tugs me against his frame. “I love you, too,” he says, relaxing into the water.

I will always want Sweet Pea. I will always crave him. But I can’t have him.

Pinching bubbles between my fingers, we sit in silence until the water runs cold. I tug the drain and allow the water to gurgle as it escapes.

Peeking back at Sweet Pea, I see his eyes fluttering with a sleepy smile on his face. I step out, grab a towel for him, and then wrap one around myself. I debate on how to tell him we’re over forever, but I can’t.

He’s sleepily tugging on boxers, drying his hair with the towel when I look at him again, and I can’t ruin this for him. I just can’t. But I can’t stay either.

Sweet Pea rushes into his room and I slowly follow him, finding him waiting with one of his shirts in his hand. “You tired?” he asks. “I know it’s early, but I could use a nap, and then when we wake up maybe we can go to Pops or-” he continues to ramble but I block him out.

We’ve never gone on a real date before, and he thinks we can now. We can’t.

My face tightens as my lips form a straight line. “I’m tired,” I lie once he stops speaking to take a breath.

“Okay,” he says, sliding into his bed in only his boxers and turning down the blankets for me.

I crawl in, allowing him to pull me against his chest, remembering every detail of the way his skin feels. I need to memorize his hands, the navy blue color of his sheets, and the smell of cologne and cigarettes emitting from his pillows. I need to remember him the way he was when he loved me because I will always love him, but he will hate me once this is said and done.

Soft snores tickle my hair, and I wait only a few minutes before I slide his hard arm from my frame. I tuck the covers underneath him, kiss the side of his hair, and then turn away from him.

Trembling with unshed tears, I find my clothes where I left them, and then quickly dress myself and rush out, making sure to lock his front door. Once my feet hit the grass, I run far away from his trailer so he doesn’t wake and catch me sneaking out, and then I call Jughead.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Whole Again

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You're injured during a raid, but your boyfriend Luca doesn't know how bad it is. After you're separated and instructed not to speak, your team finds a way to let you comfort one another.

Warnings: angst, r is shot, a civilian is killed during a raid, fluffy comfort!

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“One more thing,” Hondo says as you approach the raid location in Black Betty.

“He’s going to hear us coming at this rate, Hondo,” you complain playfully.

“Maybe you can just talk until he surrenders,” Street agrees. “It wouldn’t take long for me.”

“Funny,” Hondo replies, even though you can tell he is amused. “You must want me to say something about the little fling going on here.”

“There isn’t a fling,” Luca calls from the driver’s seat. “And Hicks knows about the relationship.”

“But nice try,” you add.

“Stay liquid,” Hondo concludes, shaking his head as he smiles.

“Fifteen seconds,” Deacon alerts, sitting in the front by Luca.

“Let’s do this!”

You pull your helmet over your head and prepare to exit Black Betty as Luca stops three houses down from your final destination. The man holed up in the dilapidated bungalow down the road has warrants for three violent crimes and has racked up enough charges in fees from missing court over the years to pay off every student loan in America, you think. He’s dangerous, but you trust your team, and patrol officers have given you good intel. Right now, his house is as quiet as it gets. He should be inside, asleep, and likely won’t even know SWAT raided his home until he wakes up in jail later today.

“We got this,” Luca whispers beside you.

“Be careful,” you reply before splitting up.

Luca goes with Deacon to the west side of the house, and you branch off with Street to enter through the back door. Your relationship with Luca isn’t new, but it’s still growing. Luckily for today, you’re out of the stage where being away from him during a breach like this terrified you and it was hard to breathe until you saw him on the other side.

You take a deep breath as Street counts down with Hondo. The explosive on the door blows loudly, and Street leads you into the kitchen at the back of the house as you cover him.

Very quickly, you realize that all of the intel was bad. Hondo curses over the comms, and you begin yelling with your teammates.

“LAPD SWAT!” you yell with Street. “On the ground now! Everybody on the floor!”

The rest of your team is out of sight, caught in different parts of the house, but you can hear them shouting commands. In the kitchen and living room, standing before you and Street, at least 30 men are pushing toward you slowly, speaking to one another in Spanish when they aren’t yelling at you.

“Any ideas?” you ask Street.

“Flash bang?” he replies.

You nod and trade places with him, holding your gun against your shoulder. Several shots echo through the house as Street pulls the small flash-bang from his pocket. Unable to tell where the shots came from, if it was your team shooting or being shot at, you force yourself to focus.

“Back up!” you yell as a man steps toward you.

Just before Street throws the device, someone at the back of the crowd raises a pistol. You begin to warn Street, but you don’t get the chance. Before you hear the shot, the bullet knocks you backward and throws you against Street. He scrambles away from you quickly to keep the men away from you. Three flash bangs detonate simultaneously, and 50 Squad enters the front door to provide much-needed backup.

“Everybody good?” Rocker asks as patrol officers begin escorting the disoriented criminals out of the house.

“I think so,” Hondo replies. “Deacon and Luca are with me.”

Luca looks around, expecting you to walk out of the hallway joking with Street.

“Hondo!” Street yells from the kitchen.

Luca’s chest tightens, his heart feels like it leaps dangerously in his chest, and he steps forward to follow Hondo with pure fear running through his veins.

“Hold it!” Hicks calls, walking into the house with Jessica at his side. “20 Squad, get out of here.”

Hondo explains that something is up with you and Street, but Hicks repeats himself. Rocker nods and then disappears around the corner into the kitchen and doesn’t speak again.

“You can’t talk before the investigation begins,” Jessica adds.

“He didn’t make it?” Hondo asks, remembering the man who was shot.

Jessica shakes her head, and Hondo leaves the house without knowing how his team is. As Deacon prepares to follow him, he pushes Luca forward gently.

“I know,” Deacon says softly. “But we have to go.”

Rocker returns just as Luca stumbles out of hearing distance and requests a medic get inside. The same medic who announced the civilian DOA rushes into the house with a large medical bag bouncing against his hip. Street, however, is told to leave and grumbles as he exits the house.

“I’m fine,” you grumble as he kneels beside you. “It hit my vest.”

The medic pulls your vest over your head carefully, then unbuttons your uniform shirt and pulls the neck of your undershirt away from your chest. He shines a small flashlight against your skin before letting your shirt fall back into place.

“No hospital trip for you today,” he says. “You’re going to be sore and have a painful bruise for a few days, but your vest did its job.”

“Where’s my team?” you ask, hissing as you sit up.

“Headed back to HQ,” Jessica says.

You look up quickly, surprised to see her here.

“A civilian was shot, he’s dead,” she explains. “Until we figure out who took the shot, you can’t see them.”

“I need to tell Luca I’m okay,” you argue. “Two words, please.”

“I’m sorry.”

You stand, refusing her help as you follow another officer to a cruiser. As you fall into the passenger seat, tired and sore, you wonder how Luca will react to this sudden separation.

When you arrive at the station, you get permission to change in the locker room before taking your place in a private room to speak to Internal Affairs. The door closes behind you, and Luca steps out of the shower area, still wearing his tactical gear. He rushes toward you and carefully takes your shoulders as his eyes travel up and down your frame.

You take his hands and smile as you promise, “I’m okay.”

Luca hugs you carefully, though it's more him awkwardly wrapping his arms around you than hugging. “What did the medic say?” he asks.

Before you can answer or get too comfortable in his hold, an IA investigator opens the door and demands, “Officer Luca, we need you.”

“Can I get just a second?” he requests.

“No.”

You can see Luca’s attitude shift as he steps back. He doesn’t want to leave your side while you’re injured, and being forced to makes him grumpy. But he’s a good officer, and he’s going to listen. For a while, at least.

“I’m sorry, Luca,” Hicks says in the hallway. “But it’s protocol.”

“I don’t even know what happened to her!” he argues.

“And you won’t until after we’re finished. But I can promise you she’s okay.”

Luca stops outside the door where the IA team is waiting. He lowers his voice to reply, “She got shot, Hicks, you know she isn’t.”

Several minutes later, you exit the locker room in the most comfortable clothes you could find. After finding a place to sit and wait, you watch the hallway opening, hoping that Luca will come down here at some point and you can explain everything to him.

“Luca!” you call as he exits an office.

He steps backward, then turns to walk toward you.

“Officer Luca,” the officer behind him directs. “This way, please.”

Luca’s jaw tightens as his anger increases. The grumpiness he showed in the locker room was cute, you thought, but he’s getting worse. If you don’t get a chance to tell him what the medic said soon, he might snap and get himself in trouble. So, you decide to find an opening to promise you’re okay.

“Officer Luca,” the man repeats. You look up again, surprised to see Luca squaring his shoulders before the other man. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” he warns lowly.

Luca’s fingers tighten into a fist, but he turns and storms away. You exhale in relief, then stand and follow them at a distance. The officer instructs Luca to wait by the sparring ring, then walks into Hick’s office.

Because he’s alone, you walk to Luca's side and bend forward to kiss his cheek. After kissing his cheek, you begin to pull away from him. “The medic said I’d be sore and bruised for a while, but the vest kept the bullet from doing any real damage. I’m absolutely okay, Luca. I promise.”

Luca nods, and says, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You walk away from Luca and feel his eyes on you until you turn the corner to return to your previous place.

“Where were you?” Jessica asks.

“I needed a tissue,” you lie. “Are they ready for me?”

“Not yet. Do you need anything?”

You sit down and shake your head. The only thing you need is Luca, and you already know the answer to that request.

You let your eyes close as you continue to wait. Soft footsteps echo in the hallway before they stop beside you. You recognize Luca’s touch as he lays his hand on your thigh and squats beside you. Opening your eyes, you smile and lean forward to wrap him in a hug. He reciprocates, being careful of where he touches you.

“Incoming,” someone warns from the end of the hall.

As Luca stands, you see Street standing guard and smile to thank him.

“We’re going to get time to talk,” Luca promises. “I’ll be back.”

You assume that the rest of your team will assist him in returning, likely aware of how worried he is. Over the next few hours, you’re all in and out of interviews with IA to account for every move and every breath you took in the house. Between those conversations, you and Luca find each other in quiet hallways, behind open doors, and tucked behind lockers for tiny moments to talk and show each other that you’re okay. The worry goes both ways: Luca is worried about your injury and you’re worried about his happiness and carrying residual concern about losing sight of him during the raid. The little moments aren’t enough, but they’re something, and your team helps you find every spare second you can.

Hiding behind Hondo so it appears that he and Luca are simply facing opposite directions to bide time, you ask, “Can I come over tonight?”

“If you think there’s another option, we need to get your head checked.”

“Sergeant Hondo, we’re ready for you,” someone calls before you duck around a corner and return to solitude.

Twenty minutes later, Hicks and Hondo exit his office together.

“20 Squad!” Hicks calls.

You join Deacon’s side, and he offers you an arm, unsure what the extent of your injury is. You smile and thank him, but don’t have a chance to tell him why you said no before Hicks dismisses you.

“IA has cleared all of you, you’re free to go home and get some rest,” he adds. “Sorry again about all of this, but…”

“We know how it is,” Deacon responds.

You take Luca’s hand as you walk to the locker room, and don’t let go as you gather your things and walk to his truck. The ride to his house is spent in silence. There’s too much to say, too many emotions involved, to have the conversation in the car.

Luca helps you inside and invites you to get comfortable. Once you’re in his bed, he climbs beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. Turning slightly, you let Luca rest his head on your shoulder as his other arm lies gently across your waist.

“Are you okay?” you ask, trailing your fingers up and down his back.

Luca moves slightly, and you suddenly realize that he’s crying. You slide down in the bed, not caring that it hurts, to take his face in your hands.

“Luca,” you murmur, holding him tightly. “It’s okay.”

You fall silent then and let Luca release all the emotions he’s been carrying since this morning. Several minutes later, he quiets but keeps his arm around you as you hold him.

“I’m okay,” you promise softly. “I’m sorry.”

Luca shakes his head, silently promising he’s not angry with you. “I thought I was going to lose you. It terrified me.”

“Hey,” you whisper, encouraging him to look into your eyes. “I’m never leaving you.”

“You can’t make that promise.”

You nod, then amend, “I’m not leaving you, not without a fight. I’ll come back to you, even if I’m crawling, okay?”

Luca hugs you tightly, then releases you to say, “Sorry, sorry! Are you okay?”

You laugh at his reaction, getting close to him again. “I’m great now. I love you, Luca.”

“I love you,” he replies. “I’m not leaving you either.”

“Then it’s a good thing you didn’t punch anyone in IA.”

Luca groans, dropping his head against your shoulder. You feel whole again beside Luca despite the pain and fear of the day. Luca’s phone vibrates with a text from Street asking when Luca will cook to thank them for helping you today, and though you ignore it, knowing that your team cares about you and your relationship makes everything a little better.

[hugshughes]

betty C. Bedard

Connor Bedard x fem!reader

synopsis - senior year starts, and Connor tries to fix everything after you were left torn to shreds after rumors all summer spread through your small town that Connor had a fling with someone all summer. a fling that supposedly began not long after the messy and unclear "end" of your relationship with him.

wc - 5k

contains - based off of Betty so... <\3. but not that bad because it's less James (Connor) being a douche and more teenagers love to spread rumors and misinformation!!!! crying, sadness, anger, shouting :( but also!!!! touching, hugging, kissing, making out a little bit. reader is 17, and her birthday isn't exactly clear but it's in september. Connor is a jealous teenage boy, and reader is a jealous teenage girl <\3. OH also my high school was 4 periods with over 2000 students and home room was just first period??? i know others are obvi different but that's just what im going off of!

an - hai!!! me when i cut lyrics like this when they don't exactly match how im writing the fic >_< i missed u people. i'm very genuinely sorry i've been gone but i genuinely have had one of the best summers of my life. IM SORRY A CHORUS GOT CUT IT WAS GONNA MAKE THIS HAVE TOO MUCH FILLER OKAY I DID THIS FOR US.

-

betty, i won't make assumptions, about why you switched your homeroom. but, i think it's 'cause of me.

Second day of senior year, you prayed it would be better than the first.

Yesterday, August 27th, you'd walked into homeroom, and your heart had dropped. Connor sat at a table in the back, laughing at something with his friends. Your Connor. You couldn't even call him that anymore. He wasn't yours. Apparently, he was another girl's, now. A girl from your town's rival school, Augustine, or something.

You sat through first period financial literacy with a weight in your chest. You sat at the very front table with a few friends, trying to smile and converse with them. They could tell something was wrong, and when your teacher said Connor's name during attendance they'd realized what.

You went to second period, feeling a bit better. Then, during lunch, you sped to the guidance office, begging your counselor to change your schedule. She was skeptical, having a feeling it had to do with something social, which she didn't believe called for a change. But when she noticed the tears that welled up in your eyes, she just smiled and clicked her mouse a few times, handing you a brand new paper for the classes you'd start the next morning.

To say Connor Bedard noticed you when you came into homeroom yesterday was the understatement of the year. The boy's smile dropped, his eyes locked on your figure as you shrugged your backpack off, smiling at your friend you sat next to. Yes, this class would be his chance to reconnect with you, fix and explain everything.

He walked into day 2 with a plan, a plan to somehow talk to you in first. He sat in the same seat he had yesterday, talking with his friends while his eyes never left your chair. He waited, and waited, and waited for you to walk in. You never did, you were in another classroom, first period AP Spanish, laughing with your best friend as you did icebreakers.

When the bell rang, he stopped the girl you sat next to the day before, awkwardly calling her name. He asked her where you were, and your friend faked confusion while she fought off laughter.

"Oh, she had her schedule switched, she has like Spanish now I think."

He nodded, mumbling a thank you as he swiftly exited the classroom, his friends shouting at him from the doorway.

As the school day went on, your day got significantly better while Connor's did the opposite. He got in his car after the final bell had rung, sitting in silence for just a minute before his friends piled in. Of course they'd all lived in your neighborhood, it being the most common one for your high school.

betty, one time, i was ridin' on my skateboard. when i passed your house, it's like i couldn't breathe.

He dropped them off at their respective homes, turning down your street to exit the neighborhood. He slowed down as he passed your house, your car was already in the driveway, you must've just got home. Last year Connor drove you to and from school almost every day, he missed that.

You two had broken up, if you could even call it that, in late May. The two of you were arguing about something both of you would now call dumb and you'd stupidly blocked his number after an angry phone call. Connor took that as you ending it, you took it as you were sick of arguing and couldn't speak to him in the moment. You were an emotional wreck when Connor had started ignoring you, still believing it was just all stupid misplaced emotions that needed to be talked through. You let him give you the silent treatment, knowing you were both still very upset.

About two weeks later, still nothing was resolved. School had been over for about a week, but you were miserable. Everything went to shit when you were tapping through Snapchat stories one night. One of your mutuals from school had posted a photo of her and her boyfriend, Connor, and another girl sitting next to each other on a bed in the background. They weren't cuddling, but their thighs were touching while they both looked at something on Connor's phone so basically your life was ruined.

You had over a dozen girls send you the story, asking what the fuck had happened. You had to tell them and yourself that you were broken up.

you heard the rumors from inez, you can't believe a word she says most times. but this time it was true.

It was extremely embarrassing for you once people that you barely even knew were telling others your business.

Connor knew he was royally fucked whenever a random girl he knew you were friends with had come up to him at a party during the summer and asked him about Augustine.

"Is she your new girlfriend?"

"What? No. I don't have a girlfriend."

"That's not what she thinks."

He almost asked who, but he knew who she was talking about. You. Everything was you. He couldn't get you out of his mind no matter how hard he had tried.

the worst thing that i ever did, was what i did to you.

Augustine didn't mean anything to him. His friend had tried to set him up with her because of how sad he'd been. But, he didn't have eyes for anyone but you, so she was just a friend of his.

All summer, he'd tried to find ways that put you two in the same place at the same time. Your town's annual Fourth of July fireworks? You were at the beach with family. Your mutual friend's huge 17th birthday bash? You were at young life camp with friends. The one time it could've worked was when you hosted a party, it was an open invite, but of course, it was the weekend Connor had his biggest hockey camp of the summer. It's like the universe wanted him miserable.

but if i just showed up at your party, would you have me?

You tried to erase Connor from your mind, but it was too hard. Living in a town where everything reminded you of the blonde boy sucked. And even if you were gone, you couldn't get away from him online, either. He was the guy to be watching for next year's NHL Draft. He was amazing, but he was also a very young and socially dumb boy.

You and Connor had gotten together towards the end of freshman year. It'd been about a month since your two year anniversary when the whole miscommunication and breakup took place. He was your first boyfriend, and you were his first girlfriend. Everyone at school knew about you two, even the people who didn't know you at all. It wasn't because you two were grossly comfortable with PDA at 8 am on a Wednesday.

You two weren't at all comfortable with your relationship being too on display to anyone, but the small and subtle things that made people silently root for the two. People saw just how you looked at each other, and how your moods changed with and without each other. They watched you two together at every event. Saw you as the loudest girl in the student section at hockey games. It was just sweet.

would you want me?

Connor was fucked. Although he couldn't confirm it, he was convinced your disappearance from first period was due to his presence. You changed your schedule to get away from him, that's how much he'd hurt you.

would you tell me to go fuck myself?

He wondered what you'd do if he just showed up at your house, or came up and asked to talk to you at school. Would you tell him to fuck off? Would you agree to talk, and listen to his apologies?

or lead me to the garden? in the garden, would you trust me, if i told you it was just a summer fling?

Connor had to speak with you, he couldn't contain himself any longer. When the final bell rang he sat in his car and waited for his friends, driving them home, through your neighborhood once again. He passed your house, only your car was in the driveway. He parked on the street, closing his car door gently behind him as he trekked up your driveway and to the front door.

He knocked softly, stepping back a few feet to wait. After thirty seconds the door opened a third of the way, your body coming into view. You were already in comfy clothes, you hated when your outside clothes touched your bed, Connor remembered. Your eyes widened, your brain sending panic signals through your body, your limbs freezing up.

"Oh my God. Uh, hi?"

You had no clue why Connor would be standing awkwardly on your front porch at 2:38 pm on a Tuesday.

"Hey. You can tell me to fuck right off and I will but, can we like, talk?"

i'm only seventeen, i don't know anythin'. but, i know i miss you.

You blinked a few times, the words taking a moment to register. Connor wanted to talk to you? About what? Did he need real closure after all the dumb shit that happened between you?

"Oh, yeah, sure. Come in."

You led him to your room, you weren't sure why you didn't just go to the living room, silently cursing yourself halfway up the stairs. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Was it clean? Were there clothes on the floor? You were now mortified by the idea of Connor seeing a bra on your bedroom floor, something that wouldn't have crossed your mind five months ago.

Your room was fine, only some socks and a sweatshirt on the ground. You sat in the cushy chair in your corner, pulling your knees to your chest. Connor sat cautiously on the end of your bed, he was always the one person you'd let wear outside clothes on your bed because you didn't care as long as he was laying with you.

It was eerily silent for a few moments before Connor spoke up, your head snapping to him.

"Um, I've been wanting to talk for a really long time, seriously."

You nodded, your eyes leaving his, the air too tense.

"Me too."

Connor's eyes widened at that, seriously? You wanted to talk to him? That was what he'd been hoping for months.

"I can't really think of a better way to say this but, uh. I miss you, a fuckin' lot. And I know I royally fucked up but I really just want you in my life. I hate the tension and the fuckin' like, uncertainty between us."

What? You were so confused. He missed you? But you had people all damn summer nothing but happy to fill you in on all of the Connor and Augustine news. Connor took your silence as you expecting more from him, so he filled it.

"And I know that everything that happened was because I was being a jealous asshole. I'm really sorry and I will show you that."

betty, i know where it all went wrong. your favorite song was playing from, the far side of the gym.

Ah, yes, the fight that ruined it all. See, in May, Connor and the Regina Pats were fighting through the playoffs, and he had one of the biggest games of the season on the night of prom. It was your first prom, and you'd been so excited to go with your boyfriend, so you can imagine the disappointment when he told you he wasn't going to be able to make it. You were crushed, to say the least, and sulked the entire time.

i was nowhere to be found, i hate the crowds, you know that.

The only few minutes you had fun the whole night was when a group of your friends had gotten you to dance after hours of begging, and a photo was taken of you with an arm innocently and extremely appropriately around a guy friend of yours' shoulders. It was platonic, even another girl friend of yours was on the other side of him and had her arm over yours.

It was really not a big deal, but Connor had seen it and was extremely jealous, and felt guilty. He was envious but also beating himself up over not being there.

plus, i saw you dance with him.

"Connor, that wasn't all your fault. I was a crazy bitch and blocked you, even if it was for like forty minutes. I shouldn't have done that, it was stupid. All of it."

He nodded, both of you unsure of what to say next.

you heard the rumors from inez. you can't believe a word she says, most times. but this time, it was true.

"And, I don't know if you care or not. But, I know all sorts of people have been saying stuff about me and Augustine. I promise you that I hung out with her that one time with Adam and hated it. I told her that and we were just kind of friends I guess. I only saw her one other time all summer. I wasn't already moving on from you, 'm still not."

He'd be the death of you, you were sure of it. Did he know how badly you needed to hear that? Even if you were skeptical if it was true when it first came from his mouth, the moment of silent eye contact between you two spoke volumes. He wouldn't lie to you, he was the most honest person you ever knew.

"I think it's stupid for us not to be friends, Connor. We were best friends before and while we dated. I miss that with you."

the worst thing that i ever did, was what i did to you.

You also missed kissing him, and cuddling, and whispering sweet nothings, and holding hands under the table at dinner.

You might as well have dangled Connor's heart on a string in front of him then decided to stomp on it. Friends. That would have to be how it was, he knew he couldn't have none of you, and some of you would always be better than none of you.

"That'd be really good."

You both smiled, although in your minds you both wanted more, you were too scared to say it. You stood up, Connor right after. You just looked at him close up for the first time in a while and sighed happily. You hugged him without caution, arms around his waist and face in his chest. His came around your shoulders, squeezing tightly if only for a few seconds before you let go of what had to be a friendly hug.

You both walked downstairs, Connor opening the front door and stepping onto your porch.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Connie."

"Yeah, okay."

You shut the door with a smile, immediately freaking out as Connor did the same on the other side. You had no desire to be only friends with Connor, but it was the safest route to having him in your life without getting hurt.

i was walkin' home on broken cobblestones.

Connor sat in his car, staring through the windshield. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind. He finally had his favorite girl back in his life, but not the way he wanted. That would have to be enough though, some of you would always be better than none of you.

He snapped back into it when he realized he'd been parked outside your house for multiple minutes and drove off. He went home and then later to hockey practice, and you never left his mind.

just thinkin' of you when she pulled up, like a figment of my worst intentions.

The next day at school you smiled at Connor in the hallway. He was teased for the rest of the day by his friends at the blush he possessed after it happened.

For the next month or so, you two danced around each other. You talked often and hung out together in group settings. At school, you'd talk and laugh, all of your friends demanding they could tell you were still in love. The both of you would insist that you were now just friends and happy about it, even though both of you were yearning to be so much more than that.

she said, "james get in, let's drive." those days turned into nights. slept next to her,

Your birthday was approaching, your 18th. You insisted you wanted something small, a dinner party with your favorite people. You'd invited over a dozen of your friends, receiving RSVPs of yes from all of them. There was still one more blonde boy you wanted to ask, though.

When the final bell rang, you ran out of school like every other teen with a car. Instead of going to yours, you found yourself walking up to Connor's black jeep, one you were oh so familiar with. He was on his phone but noticed you immediately as you were walking up.

He rolled his window down, a grin gracing his face.

"Hey, what's up?"

You lent your elbow against the window sill, resting your cheek against your hand.

"So, my birthday's on Saturday, and I'd really like if you came. It's just a small dinner party at my house, nothing crazy. You might be the only guy attending but I'd love if you could make it. I totally get if you can't though, it's a bit short notice."

Connor's eyebrows raised in shock. You wanted him at your birthday? This felt more intimate between the two of you than any other moment in the past couple weeks. Connor wasn't gonna let you down like he had at prom.

"I'll be there. Can't wait."

Connor wished he didn't love how your eyes instantly brightened, the corners crinkling to match the grin on your face.

"Great, awesome. I'll see you there Connie."

You brushed your hand over his shoulder as you said bye and turned to trek to your parking spot.

"Yeah, bye. I lo-"

I love you. Connor cut himself off before he could say he loved you. Holy shit, why did he almost say he loved you? He prayed you couldn't hear it, the way you kept walking didn't make it look like you did, but he couldn't see your face.

Your jaw dropped, hearing the first two syllables out of his mouth before he caught himself. Oh my God, Connor almost just told you he loved you. You kept on to your car, waiting until you were alone to freak out. Of course, you'd said it all the time while dating, but he hadn't told you that in months, you assumed he didn't feel that way about you anymore.

Connor had told you he couldn't wait for your party, and it was the truth. He had never been a patient boy, and waiting to see you all day on Saturday had him fidgety. He was wearing jeans and a navy Ralph Lauren quarter-zip, a white t-shirt peeking out from the unzipped section. He was wearing his cleanest sneakers and held a small gift bag in one hand, flowers in the other.

betty, i'm here on your doorstep. and, I planned it out for weeks.

He knocked on your door at 7:02, having been sitting in his car outside your house since 6:57, telling himself he could do this. You opened the door quickly, a gorgeous smile on your face. Your eyes widened when you saw what was in Connor's hands, wrapping your arms around his neck in what was too close to be a friendly hug. He wrapped his arms around you, careful to not dishevel the flowers.

"Hey, Connor. Thanks for coming."

"Wouldn't miss it. Happy birthday."

You pulled away after what felt like not long enough, leading Connor inside. He handed you the flowers, a moment of tension between you. Your mother greeted him, hugging him and taking the flowers from you to put in a vase.

Connor was first to arrive, followed shortly by your best friend, who silently made fun of you for how flustered you were. Everyone was in your house by 7:18, and you talked and mingled until around 8 when you decided it was time to eat. You sat next to Connor at your big dining table, earning a few teasing looks from your girl friends.

Dinner lasted a while, everyone talking and laughing. A little over an hour passed by before your mom came through the entrance of the room, holding a stand with a cake, 18 golden candles stuck in the pink and white frosting. Everyone sang as you awkwardly laughed. You closed your eyes and wished for Connor, he was all you could think of. You blew your candles out and everyone cheered, clapping and laughing.

You hung out for a while with everyone, another hour and a half passing before people's curfews started falling. Of course, Connor was the last person there, he'd always been the last one there when everyone else had gone.

but, it's finally sinkin' in.

You two sat on the couch, still awfully close even though everyone else was gone.

"You gonna open your gifts?"

You turned and looked at the small pile of boxes and bags, shrugging.

"My mom always said it was rude to open gifts in front of my guests."

"Am I just a guest to you?"

You laughed, shaking your head. You stood and grabbed all the gifts, laying them on your coffee table before you began opening things. Every gift was thoughtful and sweet, you left things in specific piles so you knew what to thank people for later. Connor's gift was last, and his stomach twisted when you grabbed the bag.

betty, right now is the last time, i can dream about what happens when, you see my face again.

Shit, this was when he was gonna tell you everything. You pulled at the neatly placed tissue paper, you could tell Mrs. Bedard had helped Connor out. The first piece came out and you saw the envelope sitting on the side of the bag. You grabbed it and Connor gently grabbed your wrist.

the only thing i wanna do,

"Can you read it after? I wanna see your reaction before."

"Okay."

Your eyebrows scrunched, but you didn't think too much of it. You pulled out the next piece of tissue paper and your jaw dropped. A small teal box sat wrapped in a bow. The color was unmistakable, the bow too. You looked up at Connor with wide eyes, already feeling tears prick your waterline.

"Connor you didn't."

is make it up to you.

"You don't even know what I did. Look at it."

You grabbed the box, pulling it out and gently untying the bow. You slip the lid off the box, your assumption proved correct, a beautiful white gold necklace lying pretty and perfect in the box. Two heart-shaped white gold pendants hung down, shiny and polished to perfection. Your eyes watered, no one had ever done something so kind for you.

"Connor, I can't even accept this. 'S too much."

"Well I'm not gonna wear it, and I'm not returning it either."

You lightly examined the necklace, light reflecting on the second heart causing something to catch your eye. You held the box closer to your face, squinting for just a second before your eyes widened. There was a small 98 engraved in the heart, your jaw dropping slightly.

so i showed up at your party. yeah, i showed up at your party.

"I've had it since June. I'd tried to order it for our two years but it took forever to ship."

You couldn't help but set the small box down and throw your arms around Connor, a huff of surprise leaving him at the impact. His arms wrapped around you, squeezing tightly.

"I love it, I love you."

You took a leap of faith as you pulled back just slightly and kissed your ex-boyfriend. His arms around you tightened, kissing back immediately. Your hands held his face as you kissed fervently. You were practically pulled into Connor's lap by the time you pulled away to catch your breath, chest heaving as you stared at each other. Connor grinned, extremely happy his girl was back in his arms.

yeah, i showed up at your party.

"I love you."

You giggled and leaned your forehead against his shoulder, still taking in what had just happened.

"Missed you so much."

You turned your head and left a kiss on his neck in response, your boy was back in your arms.

"Missed you more. You don't even know."

"I do know, all summer fuckin' sucked."

"Yeah! And your ass had dating rumors two weeks after we 'broke up'!"

"The key word there is rumors."

You both laughed, Connor kissing you again. You both smiled and giggled into the kiss, tingles running through your bodies.

"Hey, sweetheart! Did everyone leave?"

Your mom had gone upstairs to bed after cake, you thought she'd be asleep by now. You shushed Connor's giggling, pushing yourself off his lap and pulling him up with you.

will you have me?

"Almost mom! Connor's still here, he's leaving soon!"

"Alright, well goodnight you two!"

You both called goodnight to her, turning and smiling at each other.

"I guess that was you demanding I leave."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down and pecking him a few times.

"Shut up! If I had only said that you were still here she'd probably be down here in her pajamas making sure we aren't getting at it on my couch."

Connor just laughed, kissing you again. You two sat back down and just sat together for a while. You both had missed just existing together so much. It was nearing midnight when Connor told you he had to go.

"I have practice at like 6 tomorrow."

"Connor! You're only gonna get like five hours of sleep. Go home."

He stood up, pulling you with him. You walked him out, very quietly opening the front door. Connor's arms wrapped around you again as you stood on the front porch of your home. You laid your head in the curve of his neck with your arms wrapped around his shoulders. You stood in silence for a few moments, before you interrupted the quiet.

"You know what I wished for?"

"No. What'd you wish for?"

"You."

will you kiss me on the porch, in front of all your stupid friends?

He grinned, kissing you sweetly. He held your face as your hands gripped at his quarter-zip. After a few moments, you pulled away, giggly and drunk in love. You didn't know but your Ring Doorbell was catching the whole thing on camera.

You two stood on your porch talking until ten after midnight when you cursed at yourself and insisted Connor needed to go get some rest.

"Walk me to my car?"

"Fine, princess."

if you kiss me, will it be just like i dreamed it?

He failed to fight his laughter as he told you to shut up. You held hands as you walked down your driveway, Connor's jeep parked on the side of the road.

Connor leaned you back against the driver's door and kissed you real good. You almost forgot it was nearing 12:20 am and you were in the middle of your street making out with your technically still ex-boyfriend.

will it patch your broken wings? i'm only seventeen, i don't know anything. but i know i miss you.

You snapped back to reality and pulled away from Connor.

"You need to stop kissing me while I'm trying to get you to go home."

He climbed into his jeep, rolling down the window and leaning his arms against the window frame. As much as you wanted him to go home and get some sleep, you also loved and missed him too much to give up this moment.

"You love it, though."

standin' in your cardigan.

You rolled your eyes and sighed playfully, tilting your head and giving him a smile.

"Might be a crazy question but are we together now?"

"We were never broken up in my mind."

"Cut the poetic shit Bedard. Am I your girlfriend or not?"

He laughed, that was his girl.

"You wanna be?"

You gave him a legitimate eye roll that time, he just laughed again.

"Yes, you're my girlfriend and I'm your boyfriend."

"Perfect, awesome. Have an amazing night. I will text you tomorrow morning whenever I wake up. Which is not gonna be around 5:30 like you."

He groaned thinking of morning practice but was back to smiling at you in less than a moment. You leaned forward, kissing him one more time.

kissin' in my car again. stopped at a streetlight.

You pulled back with a sleepy smile, your whole heart content.

"I love you, Connor."

"I love you."

“Drive safe.”

Connor watched you all the way up the driveway and into your house, waiting a few extra seconds for you to lock the door before he sped home.

Once you closed and locked the door, you were smiling and giggling to yourself. You put on your new necklace and cleaned up from your party.

The two of you slept soundly, you knowing you finally had your person back, and wouldn't lose him again anytime soon. Connor would've been okay with 20 minutes of sleep if that's how long you kept him. His girl was finally his again, and he wasn't going to lose her again.

[yourjughead]

Boyfriend Part 2

Sweet Pea X Reader

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

Sweet Pea pov

I made the short walk, well in my rage, the short run to Jugheads trailer. Lights out no body's home. Hm. Where would the usual spot for him and yn be, the thought making me feel sick. Whyte Wyrm? Nah Jughead was rarely there. If I was a horrible human being where would I go hmmmmm. Ah that diner on the Northside!

3rd Person 

You crossed the threshold of the Whyte Wyrm as quickly as you could, still processing what just happened to you. Arriving at the bar top, Toni sailed over to you smiling. 

"Hey YN, How'd the rekindling of the romance go?"

"It didn't, pass me one of the spare burners would ya". Toni reached into a large ceramic jar on one of the top shelves of the bar, retrieved a phone with a sim taped to back and tossed it to you. You gave a small smile in thanks and began to set it up. 

"Am I allowed to ask what happened or...."

"Ugh Toni what a mess, he thinks I'm dating Jughead" 

"Well aren't you?" 

"Yeah aren't you?" The sound of your father's voice joinging the conversation startled the two of you. Toni took a rag from the bar top and quickly exited the conversation to grab your father a replacement drink.

"Yeah Dad, of course" you tried to give a smile, barely convincing him. 

"Right well the two of you together is the Serpent dream. Me and FP are delighted, you settled with one person who's right for you and Jones kept away from that busybody blonde girl" your father gave you a wink before taking his drink from Toni.

"Speaking of which, I gotta go meet him" you nodded to the both as your new phone lit up to life. 

~ Simultaneously across town Sweet Pea POV

I raced across the old bridge on my motorbike, not fully knowing where I was going but closely following the trail of picket fences. What a sad existence this truly is. I finally came across the neon sign of Pop's Dinner through the torrential rain. 

From outside I could see Jughead and the outline of the back of her, seeminly wearing a hat. He looked so happy. Fuck him. I could see the two shake with laughter. I really messed up. I mean sure it hurts but we were never really exclusive and besides we could never be public like this. She deserves someone she can publicly love. I should just disappear. 

I went to push off again but then stopped as watch Jones lean across the table to kiss her. This is really the end. Her hat fell to the floor as he moved from her. Then it caught my eye. A long slicked back almost glowing blonde ponytail. That's not YN. I couldn't help but smile so wide. Thank God it's not YN! Wait.....thats not YN. Holy shit that's not YN! He's cheating on YN! 

3rd person 

Sweet Pea leapt from the bike so fast it nearly came crashing to the soaked gravel. Launching himself through the doors of the almost deserted diner has the few eyes that were there lock onto him. Including Jugheads. 

Jughead leapt from his chair, immediately putting his hands up in truce but it was too late. Sweet Pea had moved quickly across the diner to catch Jughead by the collar and push him into the back wall, all while leaving the blonde screaming. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you Jones?! You're gonna chest on YN?! I swear I'm gonna kill you?!" Sweet Pea barked as Jughead was losing colour in his face, the blonde girl trying as she best she could to seperate the two, failing greatly.

"You-dont-under-stand" Jughead choked out. Pop's ran for the phone to call the police as Sweet Pea glared deep within Jugheads eyes, overcome with grief and anger. 

From outside you could see what was happening, bolting in off your own bike and straight down to the bottom of the diner. 

"Sweet Pea stop!" You screamed, managing to wiggle between the two. Sweet Peas grip completly released from Jughead, sending him to the ground, Betty quickly tending to him.

"YN he's cheating on you with her!" 

"YN I thought you were gonna tell him?" Betty looked up at you both with pleading eyes. 

"Tell me what?" Confusion painted Sweet Peas face. "Tell me what?!" He tried again, banging his hand off the wall he just had Jughead against. 

"Me and Jughead -" you were cut off by the sound of sirens filling the car park. Both you and Sweet Pea gave panicked glances to one another, neither could afford another trip to the station.

You grabbed Sweet Peas hand, pulling him through to the girls bathroom. You went to grab anything to break through the window but turned to the crash of the glass from Sweet Peas fist. He groaned as his hand began to instantly swell with blood. You couldn't help but roll your eyes before carefully passing through the window, Sweet Pea trying his best to follow you without adding to the collection of cuts. 

You ran through the drenched woods behind the diner, down the banks and beneath the trees before arriving at the bridge between the two worlds. 

"They have the bikes, they'll go straight to the trailer park" Sweet Pea breathed out from beneath the shelter of the bridge. 

"I don't have plates on mine" you glanced out checking if anyone followed. 

"- and when they search yours it'll register to Greendale" Sweet Pea couldn't help but laugh at that, the Serpents think of it all. 

"Show me your hand" you took his bleeding extremity from his side to examine it under the above street lights. Little shards of glass shone out as you gently removed the larger pieces.

"That's all I can do without the kit, we'll sort it when we're home" he nodded at you thankfully before sliding down the wall of the bridge to the dirt, you following suit. 

"I hope FP doesn't find out about this, he's not gonna take it well that you went for his son"

"I don't care, he had it coming"

"Sweet Pea -" 

"He can't take you from me and then cheat on you YN" he cut across you, staring at the stream of water parallel to your feet. 

"Sweets I tried to tell you tonight, I tried to tell you before battle Royale broke out" 

"I'm sorry I flew off the handle....tell me what? You knew he was cheating on you?"

"We'd have to be actually dating for him to cheat on me" you looked worriedly over at the increasingly confused face of your partner in crime. 

"Jughead and I are just faking, he wants to keep dating the Betty girl and I want to keep being with you, it's just to keep our parents off of our backs" 

"No that's not true" Sweet Pea stood and began pacing. 

"I told you he has a gift for making up stories, this is one of them. Our dads were getting more and more on us about why we weren't together, this way it would stop them from asking questions. I wanted to tell you sooner but Jughead said we needed you to believe it first, to help Dad believe it" you stood to look at him.

"No no no no this isn't happening because that would mean I over reacted for nothing" 

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but you over reacted, I'm sorry I lied" he stopped pacing at these words. The rain continued to almost bubble off of the rocks surrounding you both. 

"I'm sorry I got so angry and that I smashed your phone" 

"I'm sorry you ended up pinning Jughead to a wall" 

"Yeah I'm not sorry about that" you hit him playfullly into the chest at his jesting. Silence wrapped around the bridge again, the rain slowly easing. You put out your arms in truce and Sweet Pea happy wrapped his around your waist, holding you into his chest. 

"Sweets, Jughead and I have to keep pretending for awhile, just until it's believable that our break up would have no turning back" 

"Do you have to call him boyfriend though?" you gave a small smile at Sweet Peas evident insecurity. 

"Yeah but it's only pretend, you're the one I want to be with. Let's start walking home, I'm sure those cops are half way to Greendale by now" Sweet Pea gave a small nodd to your voice before taking your hand and pulling you up the bank and to the bridge. You dropped it then. 

"I can't risk being seen with you like that, I'm sorry" 

"It's okay YN, you can make it up to me at home" He winked and you were happy to see the playfulness return to him .

"By the way you owe me a new phone" 

"Have your boyfriend pay for one"

[warningsine]

Good post op.

For those interested, here are some such films to know herstory:

"Mädchen in Uniform" (1931)

"Anna and Elizabeth" (1933)

"All about Eve" (1950)

"Olivia" (1951)

"Mädchen in Uniform" (1951), dir. Géza von Radványi

"Girls in Uniform" (1951), dir. Alfredo B. Crevenna

"No Exit" (1954)

"The Girl with the Golden Eyes" (1961)

"Walk on the Wild Side" (1962)

"The Nun" (1966)

"Persona" (1966) (yes, I'm including it)

"Belle de Jour" (1967)

"Les Biches" (1968)

"The Killing of Sister George" (1968)

"Baby Love" (1969)"

"The Exquisite Cadaver" (1969)

"The Vampire Lovers" (1970)

"Daughters of Darkness" (1971)

"The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant" (1972)

"The Beguines" (1972)

"Successive Slidings of Pleasure" (1974)

"Twice a Woman" (1979)

"Desert Hearts" (1985)

"I’ve Heard the Mermaids Singing" (1987)

"Betty" (1992)

"Les Voleurs" (1996)

"8 Women" (2002)

"Nathalie…" (2003)

"Night Fangs" (2005)

"Backstage" (2005)

"Pretty Persuasion" (2005)

"Loving Annabelle" (2006)

"The Page Turner" (2006)

"Notes on a Scandal" (2006)

"Bandaged" (2009)

"Chloe" (2009), American remake of "Nathalie…"

"Cracks" (2009)

"Gigola" (2010)

"Bloomington" (2010)

"A Perfect Ending" (2012)

"Concussion" (2013)

"Nymphomaniac: Vol. II" (2013) (going controversial with this one)

"Tru Love" (2013)

"Clouds of Sils Maria" (2014)

"Sand Dollars" (2014)

"The Duke of Burgundy" (2014)

"Unexpected" (2014)

"4.48" (2014)

"Carol" (2015)

"Freeheld" (2015)

"Summertime" (2015)

"AWOL" (2016), dir. Deb Shoval

"Bird of Prey" (2016)

"Foreign Body" (2016)

"Allure" (2017)

"Atomic Blonde" (2017)

"Daphne du Maurier: In Rebecca’s Footsteps" (2017)

"The Party" (2017)

"You, Me and Him" (2017)

"Lizzie" (2018)

"The Favourite" (2018)

"Suspiria" (2018)

"The Bisexual" (2018)

"Clementine" (2019)

"Greta" (2019) (anon's* choice ❤️)

"Saint Maud" (2019)

"Ammonite" (2020)

"I Care a Lot" (2020)

"T11 Incomplete" (2020)

"Take Me Home" (2020)

"Parallel Mothers" (2021)

"Vigil" (2021)

"Benedetta" (2021)

"Anaïs in love" (2021)

"Eileen" (2023)

"May December" (2023)

Some of them are subtextual, some of them explicit, some--to use Tumblr's favorite word--problematique, some do not revolve around romance, some are cinematic masterpieces, some utter trash.

*Edit:

Ok, I laughed out loud, but on second thought? #valid

[devizakura]

🎀🐍 SIDE STORY: NO INSTRUCTION (Pennylou comic series)🐍🎀

[MASTERPOST]

Tfw you know your boyfriend becomes a no-filter unstoppable force when he's "in the zone" about something so you make a smooth exit before you're told (sometimes verbally, more often than not through the Stare™) you're doing everything wrong and getting in the way 😆

It's also no secret Betty will weasel her way out of doing any chores (besides cooking, which she genuinely enjoys) whenever an opportunity presents itself, lol. She'll do them in the name of equal share of responsibilities but the moment Pentious offers to do her share of the housework for her - poof, she's gone. We stan a lazy girlie 😌

Anyway. Will it collapse? Will it not? Only time will tell.

[talkfastlibrary]

Choices--Jake Seresin (An Arrangement Series)

An Arrangement Masterlist

Follow here for all updates as I do not have a taglist

word count: 4.1k

warnings: small mention of blood, hospital, angst

Feedback, asks, comments/reblogs mean the world to me!

Enjoy!

“Move in with me.”

The wine sloshes down your chin and onto the black tabletop. You stare at him unblinking while he stares back completely relaxed. Your mouth is opening and closing truly at a loss for words.

“You, you, you–” is all you can splutter out when your phone starts to ring.

You fumble it out of your purse and see it’s the hospital. Your heart stops. 

“Who is it?” Jake leans forward.

“The hospital,” you murmur, concentrating on the vibration in your hand. 

“Do you want me to answer it?”

You shake your head, take a deep breath and answer it. “Hello?’

“Hi y/n we found blood in Betty’s urine and her hemoglobin levels are low.”

“Okay, so what does that mean?”

“We’re going to try and find the source by doing a procedure in her bladder in an emergency surgery–”

“I’m on my way. Thank you.”

“What’s happened?” Jake asks, concern etched on his face..

“They found more blood…she needs surgery. I have to…I have to go.”

“Let’s go,” he nods, then tosses some bills on the table. 

“What?”

“Clearly I’m taking you, how else would you get there?” He stands up from his chair pocketing his wallet.

“Reynolds?”

“No, I’m taking you,” he holds out his hand, “Come on, Sugar.”

As soon as your hand slips in his he pulls you from your chair and out the door. He opens the passenger side of his truck, practically swings you inside and jogs to his side of the vehicle. 

“Buckled?” he asks and you fumble with the seatbelt. Once he’s satisfied you’re secure, he peels out of the lot then gets onto the highway. 

You’re about to tell him which way to go but he takes the proper exit and turns perfectly, then you remember he paid for her stay so he must know where the hospital is. That realization spurs another thought, how much does he actually know about you?

No, you can’t think about that now. You have to focus on your grandma, but even as you stare out the window at passing houses, you can’t help but replay his request of moving in with him.

When you arrive at the hospital he follows you to your grandma’s room and she’s fast asleep while nurses check her monitors. They let you know her surgery will be in an hour, the doctor is on his way. As they leave, your grandma stirs awake and you’re quick to sit by her side taking her hand. 

“Hi Grandma. You’re going to be taken in for surgery pretty soon, they found blood in your urine again,” you remind her gently. “How’s your pain?”

“Okay,” she responds softly then notices Jake behind you. “Are you the doctor?”

“No, ma’am,” he smiles, approaching the other side of her bed. 

“This is Jake, he’s…helping me.”

“At the flower shop?”

“Yes,” you agree. That seems the easiest way. No way were you going to try and explain the arrangement proposal to her in this state.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Jake continues to smile using his Southern charm. “I’ll be waiting here with your granddaughter until you’re all better.”

“He’s mighty handsome, Dolly,” she tells you using the nickname she’s used since you were born. 

Your cheeks warm and you don’t dare look at Jake, but you can probably guess he’s looking pretty smug right now. She goes in and out of sleep until it’s time for the surgery to start. You kiss her soft cheek telling her you’ll see her as soon as she’s out.

Then it’s you and Jake alone. 

“Thanks for bringing me here, you can go home now.”

“And how will you get home?”

“I’ll call Reynolds.”

“No, I’ll stay.”

“Why?”

“I’m not leaving you here by yourself, Sugar.”

“You don’t have to stay–”

“When are  you going to realize I’m here for you no matter what?”

“But why? I haven’t done anything to you to deserve this…treatment of financial compensation.”

“I like your company, that’s all I need. Like tonight, I enjoyed spending time with you and I’m going to continue being that person that takes care of you.”

“No,” you rub at your temples. 

“No?”

“No, we are not discussing the parameters of this arrangement right here, right now in the hospital and no one knows why she keeps bleeding or is concerned enough to try and stop it! Just go home, Jake.”

“Nope,” he responds smoothly and removes his suit jacket. He places it on the back of the hospital chair. “I’m staying right here, Sugar.”

“You drive me crazy!” you groan in frustration.

“That’s okay,” he smiles. 

“Don’t be so smug. It’s aggravating,” you begin to pace. “I don’t get you. You take me out to nice restaurants, pay for things like my grandma’s medical bills and all for my company? It doesn’t make sense.”

“I thought we weren’t talking about this?” his smile turns to a smirk.

“Ugh!” you throw your hands up in the air and move to the windows watching cars drive by down on the street. 

“While we are sort of on the subject anyway…” he moves closer to you, his reflection coming closer in the window and you feel his body heat against your shoulder. “It really is as simple as me wanting to be around you. You make me feel…at ease. Which is something I haven’t felt in a very long time. Don’t be afraid to ask me for help, whether it be money, someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on…I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

“I still don’t understand why. Why me? We’ve only known each other for a couple weeks.”

“Yes…” he purses his lips then ducks his head closer to yours. He stares until you turn to look at him. “But I feel like I’ve known you longer.”

“How?”

“You’re a woman full of questions, aren’t you?” he says but it’s not in a way that’s condescending. His tone reflects something of…reverence. 

“And you’re a man withholding answers.”

“See?” he chuckles, “that’s why I enjoy your company. You keep me on my toes, you call me out and are always surprising me.”

“Did someone tell you about me or something and said I needed help?”

“Before I answer…we are talking about this, right?”

“Yes,” you sigh with an eye roll, “I suppose we are.”

“You won’t blow up at me?”

“No promises.”

“Fair enough,” he leans on the windowsill with one arm. “Penny told me about you actually. Said you planted the flowers around The Hard Deck and picked up waitressing shifts after you took on the flower shop. She said you’re always so willing to help out anyone who needs it, even if it’s a perfect stranger. She also said you run yourself to burnout almost always.”

You shift uncomfortably.

“That, right there, is also why I want to take care of you. You’re very humble and you don’t do nice things to get noticed or the praise for it, it’s just who you are. But you’re special, Sugar, and I want to be the one who shows you that.”

“But why set up paperwork?”

“That’s more for your benefit than for me, just to show you how serious I am and that I won’t leave you high and dry like some might believe,” he smirks as if he remembers a joke.

“Have you done this with other women before?”

“Yes…” he answers slowly.

Your heart falls at that and you’re not sure why exactly. Of course he’s done this before, a guy as good looking as him has probably had many relationships with women. You must not be that special as he says.

“I know what you’re thinking, but you’re very different from them. They were all too quick to agree and ask me for money but they didn’t reciprocate their end of being my companion. You’re the first one I’ve wanted to have paperwork with and I’m glad you’re giving me pushback. It’s exciting.” 

“You’re an interesting man, Jake Seresin. This all still seems too good to be true.”

“What will it take for you to see it’s not?”

“How long will this arrangement last?”

“As long as you want it to.” 

You stare into his emerald green eyes waiting for a punchline but his gaze is steady and intense. You’re very aware of how close you are now, while discussing the situation he moved closer and closer to you. Then you noticed you mirrored his stance with your arm resting on the sill too; did you move closer to him without even realizing it?

“Then you’d move onto the next one?”

“No, there’s no moving on from you, Sugar.”

You inhale deeply, there he goes again saying things that leaves your stomach in flips. It only confuses you more, because he seems to really mean them but considering the arrangement…

“Why do you say things like that?”

“Like what?”

“Sweet things. That’s what someone would say to someone they’re interested in.”

“I am interested in you.”

“Isn’t that a…conflict of interest? Considering the situation?”

“Not really,” he shakes his head leaning ever closer. “I’ll never deny my attraction to you. Whether you want me to do something about it is entirely up to you, Sugar. You’re in charge, remember?”

You stare at him a moment longer then step back suddenly remembering where you are. It’s so easy to get caught up in his eyes and his words. You have to be careful. 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, but thank you for answering some of my questions.”

“You still have to answer mine. About moving in with me.” 

“We’ll discuss that one later,” you sit down on the couch. 

“I’m open to discussion. Mind if I join you?” he gestures to the spot next to you. You shake your head. He sits down at an appropriate distance from you. 

You sit in silence and you have this nagging feeling he was still holding something back. Forty-five minutes went by and a nurse came in and told you they’d found a mass on your grandmother’s bladder and that surgery was going to take longer than they thought. 

You thanked them then sat forward with your head in your hands. It’s been a long day. Was it really the same day you went shopping with Jake? It seems like forever ago.

Suddenly, you jump at the touch of Jake’s hand on your back.

“Sorry, I know it’s been a long day. I thought this would help,” he says then starts to rub at your back. 

“Just surprised me, that’s all,” you shake your head. 

His hand moves up to your neck, his fingers rubbing and squeezing at the tight muscles. You roll your head in certain ways then groan when he’s at a certain spot that feels like heaven. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you apologize awkwardly.

“It’s fine. You know, if you want to sleep for a bit my shoulder is pretty comfy,” he gives you a wink and a smug grin. He pats his shoulder for added effect.

“I’m not sleepy,” you shake your head. 

You soon ate your words as the clock on the wall lulled you to sleep with its rhythmic ticking. You shifted on the couch by resting your cheek in the crook of your forearm on the back of the couch, swearing you were only going to rest your eyes. 

An alarm from down the hall yanks you out of your soft slumber, you blink your eyes slowly and sigh loudly. Something soft is under your cheek and after such a long day you nestled in closer to the soft object. A nurse must have brought in a pillow for you. Then something cold and sharp-edged poked the back of your head and you flashed your eyes open.

You were completely horizontal on the couch, you turned your head still blinking awake and when you’re staring at the ceiling you see Jake gazing down at you. 

“Hey sleepyhead,” he teases softly.

“Huh?” then you gasp because you realize you’re lying on his lap and shoot straight up. Another gasp comes out as you connect with Jake’s chin, a hard clunk from your bones colliding. “Ow!”

“Gah!” he grunts but rests his hand underneath your head holding you above his lap. “I didn’t  mean to scare you. You okay?”

“Are you okay?” you ask quickly.

“I’m fine,” he laughs rubbing at his chin, his eyes glancing above you. “Your grandma’s back but she’ll be asleep for a little while longer. Everything went well.”

“Good. Um,” you sit up all the way and situate yourself back into a sitting position with both feet on the floor. “Sorry for falling asleep on you, I didn’t think I was that tired.”

“Not a problem, you’re cute when you sleep. Your nose scrunches and you purse your lips…very kissable.”

“Shush,” you shake your head at him but he’s relentless.

“I know I said my shoulder was comfy, that’s where you started but I guess my lap is the better option, huh?”

“I’m ignoring you,” you mutter, then stand up to get closer to your grandma. At least she’ll have a nice sleep thanks to the anesthesia. You touch her hand giving her a light squeeze before adjusting the blankets around her, she’s always cold.

“I didn’t want to wake you but the nurse said as soon as you woke up, we do have to go since we’re well past visiting hours. I tried to convince her to let us stay but it didn’t work,” Jake says.

“Okay, that’s fine,” you nod. “She knows to call me tomorrow when she’s awake.” You bend down to kiss her cheek. “Night, Grandma. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Ready?” Jake asks, draping his jacket over your shoulders. You nod and let him lead you out of the room, into the hall and in the elevator.  

The day has finally caught up with you and you tried as hard as you could to keep your eyes open but as soon as his truck began to move, your eyes closed and you were out.

The next time you open your eyes is when you’re staring into a lavender pillow that is most definitely not yours. Heart hammering in your chest, you lift your head up slowly in case a naked and sleeping Jake is next to you but you’re alone. Rising on your elbows, you take in the room. You’re shocked to see a tree next to you and you think you might still be dreaming. 

Turning over you see a nightstand with a plant on it and a Hydro flask with a note tucked underneath it. 

Where in the world are you?

Not wanting to leave the comfy confines of the bed and heavy comforter, you slide to the edge of the bed and pull away the note. 

‘Here’s some cold water for when you wake up. Don’t be mad, you are at my house but I’m closer to the hospital. I thought that would be best. Take a left and follow the hall all the way down until you see the stairs, you’ll find me in the kitchen. Spare clothes are in the closet, feel free to use them.

See you soon, Sugar,

Jake’

“Of course,” you groan, then grab the bottle of water. As soon as the cold water touches your throat you realize how thirsty you are so you drink and drink until you’re gasping for air. 

Your phone is charging on the other side of the plant so you snatch that up as well. Ignoring social media notifications you go to the Messages ones and see a quick text from your grandma. She says she’s fine and will be sleeping on and off. She’ll call you later in the day. 

You type a quick reply then remember you were supposed to be at the shop! Another text message is from one of your employees, and good friend, Serena that wrote: ‘some guy named Jake called and let me know about Betty. We’re all good in the shop, babes, call me if you need anything else!’

The whir of a smoothie machine echoes from the cracked door and you decide to get out of bed–but it’s very difficult because the bed is probably the best thing you’ve ever slept in. The closet has double doors and there are tons of clothes on shelves and hangers and drawers. You decide on some soft gray shorts and a thin crewneck.

When you step out you see a bathroom to the left so you head in there. It’s glamorous and spacious of course with a huge claw foot tub in front of a half-circle window. A large shower is in the corner and has one of those waterfall type shower heads. 

After using the toilet you see other little notes scattered on the cabinets of the vanity listing off towels, wash clothes, makeup wipes, toothpaste, toothbrushes, combs, hair products, facial cleansers, q-tips. 

“Well, guess the Navy really teaches organization,” you mumble, then go to the desired drawers.

You spend a decent amount of time washing your face and brushing your teeth. There’s a very fancy dry shampoo that you’ve only seen on TikTok and Instagram, something you’d never be able to afford and decided to try it out. Your hair looks fabulous of course and you feel very refreshed.

The claw tub stares at you in the mirror and you wander over to it, fingertips skimming the gold faucet handles. It really is deep and you’ve always wanted to take a bath in a claw-foot tub. Maybe you could someday soon. 

The gurgle of your stomach prompts you back out to the bedroom and you follow Jake’s instructions, pocketing your phone in the pocket of the hoodie. Along the hall are professionally done photos of fighter jets, and a bunch of family members on the opposite wall until you get to the stairs. The house is massive and the carpet feels like a cloud as you descend the stairs. 

Finding the kitchen easily enough, you’re taken aback to see Jake at the stove with a towel over his shoulder. There’s a huge spread on the long island with a pitcher of orange juice and a small vase of pink peonies. Bagels pop up behind Jake and he spins around to grab them then catches your eye. 

“Morning Sleeping Beauty,” he smiles, plopping the bagels on a plate. “Glad you found everything okay. I’ve got bagels, pancakes, and some ham and eggs that are just about done. Help yourself.”

“You did all of this?” you step into the kitchen lightly, surprised at how warm the floors are. Of course he’d have heated floors.

“Rhea helped make the muffins, they’re her specialty,” he indicates to a basket of cranberry orange muffins. “But yeah, I love making breakfast.”

“That wasn’t in your paperwork,” you say slyly. 

“Gotta leave some things as surprises,” he smirks. “It’s pretty warm out if you want to eat on the patio. Take as much as you want, then I figured we could go to the hospital for a bit before going out?”

“Um, going out?” you’re distracted by the yummy food choices as he prattles on. 

“Yeah, there’s an event I help sponsor and donate to on the pier. There’s food, games, and vendors with fun trinkets I thought you might like.”

“That sounds like fun. Could we stop at my place so I can change?”

“Change?” his brows are furrowed as he slides the ham and eggs on another platter. “There’s clothes here you can use.”

“I don’t feel like wearing clothes you’ve bought for other women.”

“Other…no, Sugar, those are all new for you. I’ve donated the others. Everything in that room is new and catered to you.”

You stare at him as he builds his own plate. How much money does he actually have to just buy a bunch of clothes and a whole new bedroom set?

“Do you not like it?” he asks, realizing you’re staring. 

 “I–that’s all for me?”

“Of course it is, that’s your room if you’ll take me up on my offer.”

Your lips form a thin line as he reminds you of that, the events of last night all rushing back. 

“And you think a breakfast spread, a comfy bed and a closet full of clothes will convince me?”

“No, that’s me being generous. Although, I have the best security system and live in a gated community. I’m closer to the hospital, and–” he scoops some grapes onto his plate but pops one in his mouth, eyes on you, “--there’s a great coffeeshop ten minutes out of the subdivision. I’ll be on the patio.”

He leaves you stunned at the counter, your hand still holding one of the cranberry orange muffins. Jake leaves the sliding doors open to the patio so you quickly pile on some more food and pour a glass of orange juice. Some of it sloshes onto the counter but you’re too heated to clean it up and follow him outside. 

He’s sitting at a long dining table lined with white wicker chairs. To the left is another seating area with chairs and a couch, all of it is overlooking a pool complete with chaise lounges. Jake is already happily eating his breakfast. Part of you wants to be petty and go sit by the couch but you also don’t want to be rude so you take the seat across from him. 

“So, what do you think?” he asks.

“I think you’re crazy.”

“I meant about the food,” he clears his throat.

“Oh, um…” you fork up some ham and eggs. They’re amazing. “Wow, those are good.”

You eat some more but can sense he’s a little stung about your comment.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think you’re crazy. You drive me crazy, that’s for sure, but I shouldn’t have said that anyway. This is all so much at once, I’m trying to wrap my head around it and I just can’t,” you shrug weakly. 

“I know it’s a lot. I’m probably coming on a little too strong but it…the look you get when you realize I’m doing all of this for you…” he shakes his head, “it makes me want to keep doing it. I’d give you the world if I could.” 

“But why?”

“Why do you always ask that? Did someone tell you you have to do something nice first in order to be treated well in return? That’s not how this works.”

“I’m sorry,” you drop your fork to the plate, pressing your palms to your temples. “It’s…hard for me to accept help and nice things. I’m doing this all wrong, I’m not being appreciative. I don’t deserve all you’re doing for me.”

“y/n look at me,” his voice is tender.

You look at him with your hands over your cheeks, squishing your face together.

“I’m sorry if someone made you think this is how you should be. You don’t owe anyone anything to be treated with respect or for an exchange of help. I can help you with one simple step.”

“What’s that?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” your response is automatic. He smiles warmly at you.

“No, Sugar. You say, ‘thank you’ and I say ‘you’re welcome’ and we finish our breakfast and have a nice conversation. Can you do that?”

You remove your hands from your cheeks and take a hearty swallow of orange juice. Mustering up the courage, you fiddle with a little plant decoration on the table, your leg bouncing underneath and then you look at him. He’s waiting patiently.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“You’re welcome. Should we pick up some flowers for Betty before we go visit?” 

“She’d like that,” you smile. 

While you finish your breakfast, you think of the choices you have to make. Signing the papers and moving in with him. Would it really be so bad? He said there’s room for your grandma once she’s able to leave, and living in a gated community does seem a lot safer than where you live now with your busted door. 

You know you should say yes, you want to say yes, but something inside you is keeping you at bay. When Jake makes eye contact with you as he drinks his coffee, and you get a little lost in his green eyes, you realize that’s what it is. You could easily fall for him but would it really be real? 

Feelings definitely aren’t part of the arrangement. 

Right?

[xspeter]

𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑫𝑰𝑮𝑨𝑵

𐬺 ➾ 𝑃𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑚！𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𐬺 ➾ 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 (𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆) 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝑴𝑱.

𐬺 ➾ 𝐼𝑛𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑘𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡！

It wasn’t fair.

You had been dreaming about going to prom with Peter Parker since you were six years old, and now, some girl Peters barely known for a year, gets to accomplish your dream? How is that fair?

You stir your punch, legs crossed as you watch Peter and MJ dance. Your own date, some guy you barely even know, is behind the bleachers making out with some girl you don’t even know the name of. That doesn’t bother you though, no, Peter is bothering you.

It hurts even more because it’s not even his fault! He doesn’t know that you’ve been practically in love with him since the first grade, so how can you expect him to do something about it?

So lost in your own self pity, you don’t notice the sound of a chair behind pulled out next to you.

“Hey,” Ned says, a slight smile on his face, “How are you feeling?”

Ned is the only person (besides your mom) that knows how you feel about Peter. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” You seethe. Ned rolls his eyes, he takes a sip of his own watered down punch, and gives you a, stop-bullshitting-me look.

You furrow your brows, “What?” You exclaim, arms crossing over each other.

Ned gestures to Peter and MJ briefly, “So you’re just staring at them like you want to murder them for fun?”

You scoff, “I’m not staring at them.”

You choose to ignored the way your voice wavers, and you’re thankful Ned chooses to ignore it too. “Whatever you say… Look, if you get sick of sitting here by yourself, me and Betty are only a couple tables down.” He says, getting up and walking away, but not without a final sympathetic glance at you.

You nod in acknowledgement, shooting Ned a reassuring smile.

Once he walks away, you pull your eyes back to Peter and MJ, only to find that they’re gone. Your eyes fart around the room, looking for the couple but coming up with nothing.

You bite your lip. If they walked away from the party to get some privacy then you should let them have that, but what if they didn’t walk away? What if they were forced away?

You were one of the only people who knew that Peter was Spider-man, which meant you were one of the only people who knew the constant danger he was in. Which meant if he was in trouble, you were one of the only people who would know. So you should go look for him, right?

You stand from your chair abruptly, causing it to make a loud screeching noise against the gymnasium floor. People in the tables around you glance at you, and you awkwardly clear your throat and give them all an apologetic smile.

You swiftly make your escape from the gym, ignoring ned as he attempts to talk to you as you walk past his table. You quickly flutter your eyes open and closed as they adjust to the bright of the hallway as you exit the dark gym. Slowly, you begin to walk, keeping yourself vigilante for any clues that could leed you to Peter or MJ.

As you walk farther into the school, you hear the faint sounds of giggling.

“Peter, what are you doing?” A female voice shrieks, one you know belongs to MJ. Relief fills you at the revelation that neither of them are in danger, but dread replaces it as you realize the other possibility.

Slowly, you follow the voices until your against the wall next to them. You flatten yourself against it, doing your best to make yourself as unnoticeable as possible.

You listen as Peter shushes MJ playfully, and the girls giggles softly in response. Logically, you know it’s in your best interest to leave, but you can’t bring yourself to.

Peter softly pushes MJ against the wall, softly he says, “Can I kiss you?” MJ nods swiftly. As soon as he gets her consent he’s quick to connect their lips. You feel sick, and your hands ghosts over your stomach.

Tears fill your eyes as you make a quick escape for the gym. Once you make it, you rush past a confused Ned and Betty and begin collecting your things. Your date, who must’ve reappeared somewhere in the last ten minutes, smiles once he sees you and begins to try and make conversation, but you shoot him a glare that effectively shuts him up.

You leave the gym with tears dripping down your cheeks, trying and failing to hold down your sobs. You quickly climb into your car and slam the door shut. You were Peter and MJ’s ride but you could care less if they were stranded, as far as you were concerned they could stay at the school all night.

Rationally, you know you have no right to be feeling like this towards the two of them. You technically have no real claim on Peter and he could kiss whoever he wanted, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt.

You pull out of the highschool and break practically every traffic law in existence to get to your home. Once you make it, you stumble into your house and begin to tear off your clothes and pull your hair down.

Your mascara runs down your face as you pull onto a baggy shirt and throw yourself onto your bed, too exhausted and depressed to take off any of your make up or shower.

You continue to hiccup, closing your eyes and attempting to get some sleep, but your thoughts are still plagued with thoughts of Peter and his stupid, pretty face.

You wake up to the shrill sound of your ringtone. With a groan, you turn it off, already knowing who’s at the phone and why they’re calling.

You attempt to close your eyes and go back to bed, but you’re interrupted by your door bursting open and an angry looking Peter stepping through the threshold.

“What the hell, y/n?” He seethes, “Me and MJ were stuck at the school for an hour before May could come get us!”

You smile victoriously, “I’m sorry?” You giggle. Peter furrows his brows, “Sure you are.”

You roll your eyes and check your phone, it’s nearly midnight. “Jesus, Peter. It’s almost midnight- why the hell are you here?”

Peter looks at you like you’re stupid, “Because something is clearly wrong, and i’m not just gonna let you sit here and be depressed about whatever it is by yourself.”

You swallow, eyebrows furrowing and a fresh set of tears beginning to fill your eyes. Even though you abandoned him at the school- he’s still trying to make you feel better. Why did he have to be so nice? Why did he have to make this harder then it already was?

“I’m not upset.” You mumble, arms stretching out behind you to prop yourself up.

Peter sits at the end of your bed, causing it to sink a bit. “Where’s MJ?” You ask. He smiles at the mention of her, “We took her home.” He says.

You hum in acknowledgment, eyes looking past Peter, because you know if you look at him right now you’ll burst out crying.

Peter, always so in tune to your emotions, immediately notices the shift in mood. “Hey, hey…” He scoots closer to you until you’re face to face. His hand cups your cheek, “What’s wrong?”

That’s when the dam breaks. Your lower lip wobbles as a new cascade of tears flows down your cheeks. You push him away, practically jumping to the other side of the room to put some space between the two of you.

“Please, just please Peter, just go-” You beg.

Peters eyes snap open as he stands from your bed. He knows well enough to not attempt to get close to you though. “Not until you tell me what’s bothering you!”

“Nothing is bothering me-”

He laughs at that, “Then why are you crying?”

You roll your eyes, arms crossing over your chest, you scoff out, “It’s none of your business.”

It’s Peters turn to scoff as his eyes practically bulge out of his head, “It is my business y/n! We’re best friends, we tell each other everything! Just tell me what is bothering you so I can help you feel better!”

“I can’t!” You sob.

You can see Peter trying to put it together in his head. He suddenly steps closer to you, eyes searching your face for, well, really anything at this point.

“Is someone threatening you?” He asks seriously. His hands reach out for yours, but you’re quick to pull them behind your back. Hurt flashes in his eyes at this, but still, he persists. “If someone is hurting you because you know me then you have to tell me. Mr. Stark and I can-”

“No one is hurting me!” You huff. You do your best to maneuver around the taller boy, who has somehow cornered you against the wall, but he stops you. Peter gently grabs you shoulder and keeps you in front of him. “Then what is wrong?”

“Please don’t make me say it.” You gasp, “Please, Peter, don’t.”

Peters eyes soften as he pulls you against his chest. You sob into his shoulder, arms circling around his torso and squeezing him against you.

He pulls back, his hands cup your face and he smiles, “There’s my girl.” He says adoringly.

Your lips twitch into a smile and then fall again. “You have to go, Peter.” You mumble. The brunette nods and pulls you into his chest once more. You squeeze him like this is the last time you’ll ever touch him, because as far as you know, it is.

It’s been nearly a month since prom, and you and Peter have spoken possibly three times. It’s not his fault really, he’s just so busy with him and MJ’s new relationship and you, well… you’re not really making any effort to hang out with him. It hurts too much- having to listen to him gush about how in love he is.

Too busy playing with the food on your tray, you don’t notice that you’re staring at Peter and MJ across the lunchroom until someone waves a manicured hand in your face.

“Um, hello? Anyone home?” Gwen jokes. You roll your eyes and drop your fork. Gwen pulls out the chair across from you and drops her tray with a bang.

“I’ve been trying to get her attention this whole time.” Kate says. Gwen shrugs, “Well, you know how she gets when she sees… well. Y’know.”

Kate nods sympathetically and you cross your arms over your chest. “You’re both so dramatic.”

Kate and Gwen share a look.

“How are the plans for your birthday party coming along?” Kate asks, and you’re grateful for the change in subject.

You shrug, “They’re coming.” You say, taking a bite of your mashed potatoes. Gwen snorts, “Coming.” She laughs. You and Kate groan, “You’re such a child.” You say endearingly.

The three of you laugh and continue to eat. You each throw in little comments here and there, and you don’t even notice when Ned sits in the empty chair next to you.

“Hey.” He says with a polite wave. He nods to Gwen and Kate in greeting and the two follow suit. “Hey, Ned.” You respond with a warm smile.

Ned clears his throat, nervously he asks, “Are you avoiding Peter?”

You furrow your brows and glance at the boy in question. Peter is staring right at you. When your eyes meet, he’s quick to look the other way.

“No, i’m not. Why would you think that?”

The boy shrugs, “No-no reason. I was just… wondering.”

You roll your eyes, “Tell Peter if he wants to talk to me he can do it himself.”

Ned opens his mouth to protest but you give him a glare. He nods solemnly and walks gloomily to Peter.

“I think I lost my appetite.” You say. You pick up your tray and leave the table without saying goodbye to a concerned Kate and Gwen.

You throw your food away and head for the bathroom. You’ve spent way too much time here these past couple of weeks, either to just get a breather or to sit in cry. Right now, you want to sit and cry.

You look in the mirror and watch as fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks, eyes glassy and cheeks beginning to redden.

You drop your backpack on the floor and lean against the sink. Face falling into your hands. A position you’ve found yourself in way too many times.

You aren’t even sure what hurts more- Peter and MJ’s relationship or the fact that you had no right to be mad at Peter and especially not MJ. They didn’t do anything. If you really considered yourself Peters best friend you would be happy for him, right? So then why aren’t you?

Is it because you’re too selfish? Is it because you want Peter all too yourself?

Yes, you think, Is that too much to ask for?

You’re pity party is interrupted by the door opening, and you’re quick to wipe your face and pretend that the mascara stains on your face simply aren’t there. And you’re praying the other person does the same.

Clearly you did something to make the world fucking hate you, because of course Michelle fucking Jones is the one who walks in the bathroom. You sniffle and keep your head down, avoiding eye contact.

Her hair is pulled back in a low pony, some strands left out to frame her face. She’s wearing a simple blue crewneck and baggy leggings. She’s one of those girls who make looking homeless look good.

“Oh,” She clears her throat, “Sorry to… interrupt.” You nod in acknowledgment, immediately attempting to push past her and walk out of the bathroom, but she stops you.

She stares at you for a moment, takes a deep breath, and then says, “Are you in love with Peter?”

You swallow the lump that formed in your throat, your heart falling to your stomach. You suddenly feel nauseous- like the room is closing in on you.

“Who told you that?”

She shakes her head, her eyes downcast. “No one. But… it’s not hard to tell.”

You squeeze your eyes shut.You shouldn’t be surprised she noticed. MJ’s always been an observant person, she’s always been able to read right through you- so why did you think you could hide this from her?

“Look,” You huff, “I’m not- I’m not going to act on it so you don’t need to worry-”

“I’m not.” She blurts, “Worried, I mean. I know you and I know that you just want Peter to be happy. I just wanted to tell you that… i’m sorry.”

Your eyes widen and you look at her in shock, your hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. She’s apologizing? For what? Have you really made her feel so bad about being happy wirh someone that she felt the need to apologize?

You feel like a terrible person, your eyes welling up with a new set of tears.

“You have nothing to apologize for-” You start, but she interrupts you again.

“No, I do,” She sighs, she grabs your forearms and bites her lip. “I…I knew. I knew and I still went after him and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Your jaw clenches as a new wave of emotions crash over you. She knew how you felt and she still went after him? Doesn’t that violate like every single girl code there is?

Through your anger, you manage a smile. It’s not her fault, you remind yourself. Peter was so.. so easy to fall in love with, if you were in her shoes you probably would’ve went after him too.

An awkward silence filled her revelation, but through bated breaths you manage, “It’s fine.”

MJ looks at you like you’ve grown two heads, and maybe you have.

“The heart wants what it wants right?”

Birthday parties have never really been your thing. You always feel awkward at them, with all that attention on you. Some people revel in it. You are not one of those people.

You continue to brush out your hair, pulling it back and out of your face to allow you to start your makeup. Your parents are out in some business trip, and as far they’re aware, you’re just going to dinner with a few friends.

You huff and continue to do your makeup. You rarely ever go all out usually, not unless it’s a dance or something like that, but tonight is different. Tonight you’re going to look amazing and you’re absolutely positive about it.

You carefully pull your party dress over your hair, which you just finished doing. The dress is black and lacy. It has spaghetti straps and it reaches to your middle thigh. The material is skin tight and silky to the touch.

You pull on your black heels and walk to your full length mirror. You smooth your hands over sides and make sure you’re comfortable with how you look. You smile and take a deep breath tight as your mom calls you to the living room.

You walk down the stairs slowly, a smile on your face as you see Kate and Gwen talking to your mom. Kate is wearing a beautiful purple dress, the top is tight but the bottom is slightly flowy and it reaches her mid thigh. She looks almost like a princess.

Gwen is wearing a tight sequin teal dress. Her hair is up in a low messy bun with some strands framing her face. “You guys look amazing.” You compliment. At the sound of your voice both of them snap their heads towards you and their eyes practically bug out of their head.

“No fucking way! You look beautiful! Is Peter coming? He should be able to see what he’s missing.” Gwen mumbles the last part, but you still hear it. Your heart pangs a bit at her suggestion but you still put a smile on your face. You explain that you had invited Peter before any of this had even happened, and as far as you knew, he would still be here.

Gwen made a face at this, but didn’t say anything. You shrugged, “Besides, it’s not like we aren’t friends anymore. I just needed some space so I could get used to him and MJ being together. I’m basically over it at this point.” Kate and Gwen shared a look at your blatant lie, but you choose to ignore it.

An awkward silence seeps into the room that all of you choose to believe isn’t there, and it isn’t broken until the first couple of guests get there. You hope up and quickly instruct Kate to dim the lights and start the music, which she does. The room is covered in an incandescent glow now, and the familiar sound of Spotifys, “Best Pop Hits of All Time” playlist begins to play.

You open the door and see the familiar face of Flash Thompson as well as a bunch of other faces you hardly recognize.

You furrow your eyebrows at Flash’s smirking face, “Last I checked, I didn’t invite you.” You snarl. Flash shrugs and pats your shoulder, “Happy Birthday, Sweetie.” He walks past you, and the rest of the guest follow suit.

By the time Peter arrives the place is packed. He can barely turn the corner without nearly running into someone, and the music is blasting so loud his senses are beginning to go awry.

He catches a glimpse of you dancing with Gwen and Kate, your eyes are sparkling and a real smile is on your lips. He thinks it’s the first real one he’s seen on you all month.

His lips twitch up, and his heart aches a bit at the current state of your relationship. He has no idea why you’re avoiding him, but he’s determined to find out tonight and fix it.

You however, have no idea Peter is even there. You’re too busy dancing and finally letting loose. Any thoughts about Peter or about school or even about your life seem to have completely left you, and finally you feel happy. You feel free.

“Happy Birthday Bitch!” Kate exclaims and you laugh heartily. This day really couldn’t be any better.

“Hold on, I’m gonna go get something to drink!” You yell over the music, you practically run to the “punch” (you spiked it) and fill it to the brim of your cup.

You gulp it down, hardly hearing someone calling your name. You glance to the side and see a smiling Peter, but you’re too buzzed to even care.

“Peterrr!” You squeal, immediately throwing your arms around the boy. Peter seems taken aback by your sudden show of affection for him, but he doesn’t push you away. “Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.”

You step away from him with a dopey smile on your face, “How have you been?” You question, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in, like, forever.” Peter cringes and laughs nervously, “I’m fine, but today’s not about me. How are you, Birthday Girl?”

You shrug, “Today? I’m great. Every other day, not so much.” Peters smile falls slightly at your revelation. He knows if you weren’t as drunk as you were you would’ve never admitted something like that to him.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He says honestly. You smack his arm and laugh, “I bet you are.” You giggle, and then you kiss him on the cheek and walk back to the dance floor.

Peter really, really needs to find out what’s been bothering you.

The next two hours you spend partying and drinking, getting drunker and drunker as the night continues. Peter has soent the night much different then you, him and MJ mostly keeping to themselves, but he’s been trying to figure out when and how to talk to you.

Eventually, he finds you again grabbing the cake out of the fridge and placing it on the dining table. Peter smiles softly at it, his mind taking him back to all the other birthdays the two of you have shared together.

“Let me guess, half vanilla half chocolate?” He asks you. You loved vanilla, but Peter loves chocolate. So when the both of you were even you decided to go half and half during both of your birthdays, so you could both enjoy the cake together.

“Of course it is.” You slur.

Your obvious drunkness makes Peter question if tonight is really the right night to be doing this, but he knows if it doesn’t happen tonight, it never will, and then things will just continue to get worse. So her takes a breath and asks you, “Can I talk to you?”

You furrow your brows and cross your arms over your chest, “What about?”

Peter looks around at all the watchful eyes and listening ear around you, and gently he grabs your arm and leads you to the backyard. The area is relatively empty minus the few stragglers who aren’t even sober enough to discern their ass from their head.

He takes a breath and watches as you glance around. Your arms cross over your chest as you suddenly feel uncomfortable. “What’s going on?” You ask.

Peter takes a deep breath, “Look, Y/N, I know that you’re avoiding me, I know that for some reason that I can’t wrap my head around that I did something, but I really can’t figure out what it is.” He rambles. You open your mouth to defend yourself, but he interrupts you. “And I really just want to know what I did and how to make it better. So please, please just tell me.”

Your eyes widen and your breath begins to quicken. All the alcohol you consumed seems to have vanished as you feel more sober then you ever have in your life. You don’t know how, but you know tonight is going to change everything.

“I’ve already told you Peter, nothing is wrong.”

Peter rolls his eyes and clenches his fists at his side, “Are we really doing this again? The lying?” You squeeze your eyes shut. Peter takes a step towards you and pushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “What is wrong, Y/N?”

“I’m in love with you!” You finally blurt, “I’m in love with you and I have been for years. I didn’t know how to tell you and then you and MJ started dating and I just- I just couldn’t take it. It was selfish and I am so fucking sorry.” You’re crying by the time you’ve finished.

Peter looks shocked, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. You both sit and stare at each other in silence, the music from the party blaring from the inside of the house.

Peter swallows, “I have to leave.” He mumbles, immediately walking past you and practically running into the house.

You cough out a sob and cross your arms across your chest. You almost feel relieved that the truth is finally out there, but Peters reaction causes a whole new set of emotions to wash over you. You aren’t sure of a lot, but you do know that you and Peters relationship will never be the same after this.

Peter knows he fucked up. He knows leaving you there by yourself was not the way to handle that situation, especially not after he basically forced you to confess to him- but he didn’t know what else to do. This changes everything for Peter.

What you don’t know, is that it took Peter years before he was able to finally accept the fact that you didn’t like him like he liked you and to move on. Thats what his and MJ’s relationship is supposed to be, him moving on, but now…

He swings himself across New York Cities skyline, trying to understand what his next move should be. He can’t just break up with MJ, doing that would solve absolutely nothing, but he knows he doesn’t love MJ like he should.

He doesn’t love her like he loves you.

Peter eventually climbs his way up to the top of the Empire State building, a sandwich from Mr. Delmar’s corner shop resting in his lap.

He sighs and runs a masked hand over his face. On one hand, he has his current relationship with MJ. He liked MJ, yes, but he was in it for all the wrong reasons, and breaking up with her would just hurt her which is not something he ever wants to do.

And then there’s you. His childhood friend, the girl he fell in love with, the girl he wants to marry. But he’s practically ruined any chance he had with you. There’s no way you’ll ever want to talk to him after this, and as far as you know, he doesn’t want to talk to you either. Plus, if he broke up with MJ and then confessed everything to you there’s no way you’d even want to be in a relationship with him! (Not that he blames you.)

Even with all these thoughts swirling in his head, he knows he needs to do one thing, and that’s find MJ.

When he reaches her apartment, me knocks on the door solemnly. MJ opens it nearly immediately, and the look on her face shows that she knows why he’s there.

He smiles sadly at her, “Hey.” He mumbles. She just nods in greeting and steps out of the way to let Peter through the door.

She guides him to her room, where they both sit in an uncomfortable silence. “MJ-” He begins, but she interrupts him with a hasty kiss. It’s passionate- but only on her side. Peter sorta just sits there like a hunk of flesh and rests his lips against hers. When she pulls away there are tears in her eyes.

“I know, Peter. It’s okay.” She whispers. She squeezes his hand, and Peter’s eyes well up with an on-set of tears.

“I am so, so sorry.” He says shakily. MJ shakes her head and smiles at him reassuringly, “You have nothing to apologize for. I know you loved her when we started dating, it was just a matter of time before you realized it yourself.”

Peter bites his lower lip, a string of new emotions hits him like a truck. He had been so stupid to think he would ever be able to get over you, and he hates that he’s only just now realizing it.

MJ kisses him on the cheek one final time, “Go to her.”

Peter nods and quickly exits the house, he practically throws himself across buildings to get to you.

You one the other hand, have since practically kicked everyone out of your house so you could sit and wallow in your own self-pity. Kate and Gwen had insisted they stay but you refused saying you just wanted to be alone.

Now, you sit in the dark of your bedroom. Your house is a disaster, but your heart hurts way too much to even care.

Your mind runs through every memory you and peter have together- from the time you met when you were five years old, to now, when you’ve practically ruined any relationship you hoped to have with him.

The thought only rips more sobs out of your throat. You really have no idea how you’re even able to still be producing tears with how much you’ve cried this past month, but here you are, makeup ruined and your eyes practically blood shot.

You practically jump out of your skin when you hear a knock on your window. You don’t need to look to know who it is. The noise usually brings you comfort, happy to know Peter felt safe enough with you to come visit you after patrol- but now… now you know what’ll happen when you open that window, and you know it won’t be anything good.

Peter knocks again, a bit louder this time, and you finally force yourself to get up. You don’t bother trying to fix yourself, Peters seen you at your worst too many times to count.

You pry open your window with a soft grunt, and peter pulls off his mask and crawls through. He stumbles a bit once he lands, but he finds his footing quickly. He smiles shyly at you, but you turn around a cross your arms over your chest. You sit on your bed, causing it to sink a little bit with your weight.

Peter feels awkward and uncomfortable, which is something he never thought he’d feel when he was with you.

“Y/N…” He sighs, “I am so sorry.” You shrug your shoulders, “You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t like me and I was stupid to ever admit that to you, especially not when you have a girlfriend.”

Peter shakes his head and leans against your wall, his arms crossed over his suit, “I don’t have a girlfriend. Not anymore.”

Your breath hitches and you finally look at his face, “What do you mean?” You mumble.

Peter shrugs, “I broke up with her.”

Your mind can’t process what you’re hearing. Why would he do that? You can’t conjure up any reason other than he had to be possessed.

“Why the hell would you do that?” You question, standing from your bed and begin pacing the room. “I mean seriously Peter! She loves you! You need to get out of here and go fix it with her!”

Peter chuckles, even through everything you’re still worried about him. “Funny,” He says, “She told me the same thing.”

You stop walking and immediately a feeling of guilt begins to settle in. You ruined MJ’s chance at happiness because of your own selfishness? You promised her you wouldn’t act on your feelings and yet here you are.

“If you broke up with her because of me then you’ve got to be out of your goddamn mind.” You seethe.

Peter shakes his head, “That-That’s the thing Y/N! I didn’t break up with her because you told me you love me, I born up with her because I…” Peter takes breath and squeezes his eyes but, “Because I love you too. And I was stupid for not acting on it sooner and forcing us into this mess.” He confesses.

Your heart practically stops. You can’t believe what you’re hearing and you can’t even look at him.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Peter shakes his head hastily and steps towards you. “I do though. I have loved you for years Y/N and I thought you didn’t love me back so I tried to move on and!- well, you know the rest.”

You swallow, and finally look up at him. Your eyes shining, “So you really love me?” You question.

Peter smiles and wraps his arms around you for the first time in what feels like months.

“I’ve never loved someone more.”

tag list - @fictional-characters-i-love-them

[alyssaswrld999]

Hi, do you accept orders? If so I thought of something for sweet pea, where they have been dating hidden from everyone for a while then when the snakes are transferred to Riverdale High and Reggie and Cheryl make their entrance the reader appears and then Reggie says some shit to her and even before that Sweet pea reacts to the reader punches Reggie (you can elaborate more later, sorry for the long request)

Yes I Accept orders and requests!

Secrets Have To Come Out Eventually - Sweetpea x Reader

Today had been a weird day at school considering everything that has been going on. The Southside has always been treated like crap longer than I was born. Even though I am a serpent I'm not ashamed of where I come from.

Hi I'm Y/n and I'm Toni Topaz's sister. It's been a lot for the both of us with our past and everything but I love her a lot. Our family is complicated but I'm just happy to know me and Toni are there for one another.

I was sitting outside with Jughead Jones and Toni. Jughead Jones has been a really good friend to me and he was the transfer from Riverdale High and he is also the son of F.P. Jones.

"Wow Jones. Props to you. It's very Lovecraftian, which I'm sure was the intention. But I gotta ask you, did you write this on a typewriter?" Toni asked. I smiled and laughed at them both. "You can usually tell if it was written by one toni" I said.

Jughead looked at me and then to Toni. "I... yeah. I wanted to get into Lovecraft's headspace." Jughead answered. I smile and then toni looked at me. "Well so it wasn't like Betty bought you a manual typewriter for Christmas or anything weird like that" Toni said looking back at Jughead.

"No comment" Jughead said grabbing the paper back. I laugh and shake my head. Next thing I know Sweetpea and Fangs exit the school and they were laughing and cheering. "What's going on" Jughead asked standing up. I looked at sweetpea concerned. "This hellhole is officially closed! We're done! No more Southside High!" Sweetpea answered. I exhale slowly and I really didn't like the idea.

Toni looked at Sweetpea and was concerned as well. "What! How?" Toni asked. "They say it's gonna be dangerous and gonna be quarantined. Who cares? We're all going to different schools." Sweetpea answered again.

Jughead was also even confused as well. "Wait this doesn't make sense. Where are you guys going?" Jughead asked. "Same as you, and Toni, and Y/n and Fangs. We're going to Riverdale High" Sweetpea said.

It was silent for a moment and then Sweetpea was talking about wanting to knock some heads of Northsiders. Then they walk away leaving Me, Toni, and Jughead there speechless.

I mean yeah Riverdale has been my home for a long time but I just don't think I will fit in well considering everything. Sweetpea and I have had a history as well and uhm it's a secret.

The next day

We all enter Riverdale High so we could get the tour of the place. Next thing we see is Archie Andrew's and Veronica Lodge. I already knew who they were because I was already friends with them and Betty Cooper. "This is fancy" I mumbled. Sweetpea nudged me with his arm and smiled at me. I smile at him and shake my head.

We walk over to the little table and Archie and Veronice look up at all of us. "Friends. On behalf of the students and faculty here at Riverdale High, welcome to your new school. To ease this transition, I've set up a registration desk where you can get your locker assignments, class schedules, and a list of sports and extra-curriculars. We encourage each and everyone of you to drink deeply from the cup that is fair Riverdale." Veronica said.

I smile at Veronica and Archie being there to greet all of us. They were both very nice to me and Jughead as usual. It's actually nice to see them give everyone a fair chance.

"Stand down, Eva Peron!" someone said. I look up and seen it was the Cheryl Blossom in the flesh. Her and some other students were coming down the stairs. I look over and seen Toni getting mad. "There's the school spirit I so fondly remember." Jughead said.

I shake my head and I was getting angry myself. "Cheryl. No one invited Fascist Barbie to the party." Veronica said. Cheryl walks over and stands there crossing her arms. "Wrong Veronica, no one invited Southside scum to our school." Cheryl said. She looked at all of us and then continued to speak.

"Listen up, Ragamuffins. I will not allow Riverdale High's above average GPA to suffer because of classrooms that are overcrowded with underachievers." So please do us all a favor, and find some other school to debase with your hardscrabble ways." Cheryl said.

I shake my head and I was really pissed. "Why don't you come over here and say that to my face?" Toni said walking towards Cheryl. "Happily, Queen of the Buskers." Cheryl said. Then Archie stepped in so it wouldn't go farther.

"Okay guys. Everyone, can we just put our Northside-Southside differences apart and start over? A new slate?" Archie said then Reggie butted in. "Mmm. You don't speak for the Bulldogs, Andrew's. And need I remind you, these greaser-snakes showed up at your place trying to kick your ass." Reggie said.

I look up at sweetpea shocked that he did that and now I was even more pissed off. "Happy to finish what we started." Sweetpea said walking towards Reggie but me and Jughead stopped him. "Sweetpea stop!" I said looking up at him holding him back.

"Well well well. If it isn't miss Y/n. Nice to see you back here. Let me just ask one thing" Reggie said. I turn around and look at Reggie. "If your looking for a real man and not some snake chum sucker behind you I can show you a real good time then these good for nothing snakes" Reggie said.

I was pissed and fumming even more and I just let go because I couldn't hold back. "What did you say" I asked. Reggie smiled and walked towards me. "I said if you don't wanna spend your lonely nights with a snake come find a real man like me" Reggie said. Next thing I know I punched him in the face and knocked him out.

"Oops... my hand slipped" I said. I look up from Reggie and seen everyone shocked. "What? He was being an ass so had to put him in the doghouse" I said smiling. I then seen Sweetpea smiling at me. "Besides I've already found my man that's worth my heart" I said walking over to sweetpea. I then kiss him on the lips in front of everyone.

Guess the secrets have to come out eventually.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Always and Never Our Time

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You love Deacon and Deacon loves you, but you keep missing one another because the time is never right. Until your time, imperfect and late at night, finally comes along.

Warnings: angst to fluff, insecurities and misunderstandings, canon divergent, comfort at the end

Word Count: 4.3k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

It’s tiring watching the man you dream about from a distance. Though you’re standing inches from him, working side-by-side with your life in his hands daily, there’s a distance between you and Deacon Kay that you’re desperate but unable to close. You love Deacon - have loved him for years - but you missed your chance. The brief moment where you simply knew Deacon, where you could have made your dream come true had you just told him how you felt, came crashing down when it ended.

The weight of your unspoken feelings grows more suffocating each day that passes. But the timing isn’t right, so you’ll stay by his side and support him in everything. If, or when, your time finally comes, you’ll be ready.

“How’s Annie?” Luca asks as you exit Black Betty.

Once upon a time, Deacon offered a hand to help you. Today, as he talks about his girlfriend, you thank Hondo for his assistance as you place your palm over his and jump onto the asphalt.

“She’s great,” Deacon answers, sending an invisible glance your way. “She pointed out again that we could have been married by now if I’d asked her out sooner.”

“Good things come to those who wait, that’s what you always say, right, Deac?” Tan interjects.

You barely conceal your amused snort at that; if all you had to do to get good things was be patient, a lot of people would stop fighting for the things they love, content to sit in silence on the sidelines or bide their time with something else until what they wanted was ready. Not completely dissimilar to what you’re doing, you realize.

“Right,” Deacon agrees, furrowing his brow as he watches you. “But we’ve known each other for a long time, so there’s bound to be some questions in this period of moving from friends to being in a relationship.”

“What about you?” Hondo asks quietly. “Anything new in your life?”

“I heard a new joke,” you answer. “Two, if you count my thoughts about my own life.”

“Hey,” Hondo says, pulling you to a stop as everyone enters HQ. He waits until you face him to add, “I get it. Even if you don’t want me to see it, I know you’re not the same as you were before Deac and Annie started dating. And I know you don’t want to hear this, but don’t put your life on hold for one relationship that may never happen.”

“You want me to start dating someone else to get my mind off him? Hondo, this isn’t a romcom.”

Hondo laughs, but you can tell he genuinely cares about you in this. “Trust me, there’s nothing funny about this. I just don’t want to see you get hurt any more than you have to. If he’s moving on… maybe you should consider doing the same, even if it’s just taking the next stop by yourself and doing something for you.”

You hum, surprised by Hondo’s good advice. “Thanks. In that case, join me for spa night?”

“I know you’re kidding, but I could use it. Convince Luca to gift you the package and I’ll come with.”

You roll your eyes as you walk into HQ with Hondo. When you walk behind Deacon and hear him mention his incredibly thoughtful date night plan for Annie, you feel another piece of your heart tug loose, tied to a dream that passed while you were still asleep.

TWO MONTHS LATER

“Morning, Smiley,” Rocker greets you as you enter the station. “You’re taking the news well.”

“What news?” you ask.

Rocker shakes his head and points at your team. Save for Deacon, they’re all gathered in a small circle and talking quickly with small gestures.

“What happened?” you inquire as you stop between Luca and Tan.

“Deac and Annie broke up,” Hondo tells you, watching your reaction closely.

“Oh, sorry to hear that. Is he okay?”

“He will be,” Tan tells you. “From what little bit he shared, it sounded like it was his choice. They were growing apart, she wanted something else, I guess.”

You nod before they brainstorm a boys’ night to cheer him up. As you walk toward the locker room, your phone buzzes.

              I had a great time last night. See you Friday.

“Hey,” Deacon greets, drawing your attention from your date’s text.

“Hi,” you reply, turning off the phone without answering. “Hondo told me about you and Annie. I’m really sorry, Deacon.”

He shrugs before he raises his foot to the bench to tie his boot. It’s been several weeks since you talked, and your relationship has been strained since he first started dating Annie. Back then, you wanted to wait for him. Then you convince yourself he may never be ready, so you let yourself move on, grow in yourself, and feed other relationships.

As Deacon looks at you now, he wonders why he even started dating Annie. Something inside him convinced him that you’d never go out with him, that you were too good, too young, too close, just too far out of his reach. So, he let the idea go and tried to find the feeling he thought you’d provide in someone more like him. However, now that his relationship with Annie is over, he realizes he just used more valuable time that he can never find again. If he could find the words now, maybe he could change everything.

“How are you? Didn’t you go on a date a few weeks ago?” he asks instead.

“Yes,” you answer, looking in your locker rather than at him. “We’ve been on a few more dates, went out last night, actually. He’s an attorney. Really sweet, a good guy.”

“That’s good,” Deacon responds softly.

You look at Deacon, unsurprised to see he looks the same as he sounded, like he's missing something, lost an important piece of himself that he can’t replace. Part of you begs to be let out, to tell him that you waited for him, but a louder piece of Deacon makes him speak first.

“I hope it works out,” he says. “See you out there.”

Watching Deacon leave, you wonder why time has to be so cruel.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“Hey,” Street, the newest member of your team, calls, “if I ever get sued-“

“What did you do?” you ask.

“Nothing! I swear. But if I ever do, could your boyfriend help me out? Represent me in court and turn it around on the other guy. I would be innocent, of course… mostly innocent.”

“I’m sure he’d help you, but, uh… we’re not together anymore.”

“I’m so sorry,” Street apologizes, his eyes widening. “No one told me.”

“It just happened,” you explain with a shrug. “Literally, five minutes ago in the parking lot.”

“Are you okay? Wait, don’t answer that, don’t move.”

Street turns and runs down the hall, sliding as he takes the corner too sharply. A moment later, he returns, steering Luca and Hondo toward you.

“I want to be on this team, but I wasn’t trained for this,” he tells them before he leaves again.

“What happened?” Hondo inquires.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you debate your answer. “I didn’t think I cared about this relationship,” you begin. Tears build in your eyes despite your long-withstanding feelings for Deacon, feelings stronger than anything you felt for your now ex. “But hearing him list my insecurities and treat my feelings like a closing argument wasn’t exactly enjoyable.”

Luca pulls you into his arms, wrapping you tightly in a protective hug. You grip his shirt and cry against his chest.

“Him dumping me isn’t even what hurt,” you say as you step back. “It was him calling me out for having a crush on Deacon that will never go anywhere.”

“Whoa, hey,” Hondo interrupts, placing his hand on your shoulder. “He was just mad because he thought you had feelings for someone that wasn’t him. Even if you do have those feelings, that was no reason for him to go off on you like that.”

“He was right,” you argue. “I didn’t start dating him as a distraction, but I compared everything he did to what I think someone else would do. Even though I know it’s hopeless, I’m holding on to the idea of something that will never happen!”

“Hey, are you okay?” Deacon asks as he enters the station, dropping his backpack at the sight of Luca and Hondo comforting you and the tears streaming down your face.

You wipe your cheeks with your hands and nod. “I’m okay, Deac. Thanks.”

Stepping around Luca, you rush away from the man you want but will never have. Everything you want in life, a relationship, and your future is inside Deacon. Yet you can’t talk to him right now without falling apart and telling him everything.

After you leave, Deacon sighs and rubs his hand against his jaw.

“You’ve been waiting for a chance since you left Annie,” Luca points out.

“Now’s that chance, my man,” Hondo finishes.

“I’m not going to go after her while she’s heartbroken,” Deacon replies. “She’s dealing with enough without me pushing my feelings onto her.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Hondo, we work together, we put our lives on the lines daily, and adding feelings to that won’t make anything better.”

“That doesn’t mean burying them won’t make it worse,” Hicks says.

Deacon turns quickly, surprised by the Commander’s intrusion. Hicks shrugs and lifts his mug, stirring creamer into his coffee.

“You’re talking in a public area, gentlemen, can’t expect privacy. Look, Deacon, the way I see it is that you’re angry you wasted so much time, so you’re looking for a way to prevent more time from slipping between your fingers. Yet, you’re so convinced by an insecurity or some perceived unspoken rule that you’re doing just that. Heartbreak doesn’t mean a heart isn’t ready to be given away again.”

“When did you get so wise?” Luca inquires.

“I’m the only one in this room that’s ever been married,” Hicks brags. “Figure it out or drop it, but the grip you’re holding now will give out and hurt more than just you in the fallout, Sergeant Kay.”

Deacon sighs, he knows that, and he’s known it since the very beginning. Every time he tries to let go, to move on, he sees you or catches a glimpse of the life you could have together and claws his way back to the idea, digging into it firmer and deeper than before.

“So?” Luca asks.

“Time to let it go,” Deacon announces.

As he leaves, Luca and Hondo shake their heads. It won’t be long before he’s back where he started. You will continue to dance around one another until you find the courage to say all those unspoken things or the music ends, and one of you is left to regret the time spent in silence and solitude.

TWO MONTHS LATER

“I love you,” Deacon tells you.

You smile as he pulls you close, letting his lips brush over your cheekbones before you reply, “I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

As you laugh, Deacon’s grip on your waist loosens. He looks down at you, and something akin to doubt flashes in his eyes.

“If you loved me you wouldn’t have waited so long.”

You wake quickly, inhaling raggedly as you clutch a pillow against your chest. It’s time, you decide. Time to tell Deacon everything. You can explain that you’ve had feelings for him since before he started dating Annie, beg him to forgive you for wasting so much time with your ex, for letting the fear of doing the wrong thing and driving him away dictate you for so long.

Your alarm rings, and you cancel it immediately. As you prepare for the day, you rehearse what you could say in your head, but after you park at SWAT HQ, you decide that this needs to come from your heart, not your mind.

“Hondo!” you call as you jog into the station. “Where’s Deac?”

“Finishing a training session with 60 Squad,” he answers.

“I need to talk to him.”

“It might be a while. He’s meeting with Hicks and the Commissioner today; he wants to be considered for the next open leadership position in SWAT,” Luca tells you. “He’s dedicated, it’s been a while since I’ve seen him so committed to something.”

Your smile falls, and you suddenly feel like you’re full of lead, a stark contrast to the excited, bouncy feeling you entered with.

“Oh,” you murmur. “That’s great. What do you think his chances are?”

“Pretty great,” Hondo answers, watching Deacon lead the other on-duty SWAT team back into the training area. “He already got robbed of one promotion, but he’s proven that he can do it. I see no reason they’d pass him over.”

You nod, and this time, it’s Street who notices the longing look you wear as you watch Deacon give advice to the newer SWAT members. He pats your back and sends you a sad nod.

There’s nothing you can do; it’s never your time. Whenever you’re ready, Deacon isn’t. The few times he’s been single or acted remotely interested in more, you’ve been in a position that won’t allow it. You give Deacon another piece of your heart each time you miss one another. You’ll be completely heartless before time gives you another chance at this rate. The worst part is that you’re so blinded by your disappointment, so caught up in how you feel compared to what you can’t say or do, that you don’t notice Deacon is exchanging pieces of his heart for yours.

THREE MONTHS LATER

“Deac, we’re going to dinner then Jimbo’s,” Hondo says across the locker room. “You in?”

“Not tonight,” Deacon replies. “Thanks, but I’ll catch you next time?”

“That’s what you said the last four times!” Luca complains. “Are you sure?”

Deacon nods, and Hondo makes him promise before closing his locker and leading Luca, Tan, and Street out into the hallway to drive to dinner. You wave and tell them you’ll meet them there, but don’t move away from Deacon.

“What’s the new job?” you inquire.

Deacon looks surprised that you know about his second job but recovers quickly and says, “Private security.”

Nodding, you resist the urge to reach out to him. Over the last few days, it has taken every bit of your self-control to distance yourself from Deacon. You need more, and the craving becomes a monstrous pit inside you, a chasm threatening to pull you under until it’s all you know. All because you want Deacon, wholly and selfishly.

“Do you like it?” you ask, shifting to hold your hands behind your back.

“It’s fine,” he admits. “Maybe I’d like it more if I didn’t have to do it.”

“I didn’t think of that. No more overtime, no more OT pay.”

“Right. I was barely holding everything together before, but when that went into effect…” Deacon trails off and laughs humourlessly as he closes his locker. “At least it’s temporary.”

Unlike your feelings. “Listen, Deac, if you need anything-“

“We’re friends, I can’t ask you to do that,” he interrupts.

His words feel like a knife to your heart. You are friends, it’s true, but the recent strengthening of your feelings, the urge to walk into Deacon’s arms and never leave, gives his words an edge like a sword. It cuts through you, directly to the part of you that continues to love Deacon despite fearing that you’ll never know what it’s like to be loved by him.

“It wouldn’t change anything,” you assure him quietly. “Goodnight, Deacon.”

He watches you leave, wondering how different life would be now if he’d told you everything when he had the chance.

THREE MONTHS LATER

Your desperation for Deacon has eased since the night in the locker room. You can look at him, carry a conversation, and accept his hand as you stand from the locker room bench with little more than a pang in your heart. Plus, overtime has been reinstated, Deacon’s money issues have become a thing of the past, and your team is stronger and closer than ever. Combined with other things, Deacon allows these good things to be a kind of omen, an encouragement that things are getting better, that the times you’re in now are better than those you came from. So, he stands between Hicks’ office and the locker room to wait for your return from a raid with 50-David Squad. You enter first, smiling as you remove your helmet and pick up your pace to greet Deacon.

The words are ready on his tongue, a proposition, a question that will change everything. Will you go out with me? Will you forgive me for all the nights I wasted, all the tears and unshared feelings, and give me a chance to show you that the wait only made me surer of you and what we could be?

But before he can ask, Hicks steps out of his office and calls your name. “Rocklin PD requested your temporary transfer to train and lead their new SWAT team. Talk it over with your team and let me know by the end of the day,” he explains.

Your eyes widen in shock, but you answer, “Yes, sir.” After shaking your head to clear it, you look at Deacon to ask, “What did you want to talk about it?”

“Nothing important,” Deacon lies, spurred by the opportunity you’re facing. He refuses to get in the way of your career and dreams – painfully unaware that your dreams consist almost exclusively of him. “Rocklin, that’s an honour.”

“Rocklin itself isn’t, but, yeah, that’s a great position,” you agree. “I don’t know, though.”

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving us,” Street laments as the rest of your team approaches. “You’re the only one that understands me.”

“That’s not a compliment,” Tan taunts.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admit. “It’s an amazing offer, but I don’t have training experience.”

“Street’s better off because of you,” Tan points out.

“I agree,” Street says. “They’d be lucky to have you, but we’ll hate them forever for taking you from us.”

“You should go,” Deacon encourages.

You turn to face him, a crease between your brows that shows your combination of shock and disappointment. If Deacon had asked you to stay, you would have, without hesitation, but his encouragement to go, to live hundreds of miles from him for an unknown length of time rattles you. Maybe you misread everything, and he was going to tell you something you didn’t want to hear when you came in, and this is the perfect excuse for him to not have to tell you.

“We’ll support you no matter what,” Luca promises, but your eyes remain locked on Deacon’s.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “I’ll think it over and let you know. I’m going to change.”

You push between Street and Hondo, distracted and deaf to Hondo asking Deacon what he was thinking by pushing you away. You also fail to hear Deacon’s broken reply, “Because it’s better than anything I could have offered.”

SIX MONTHS LATER

When you walk into LAPD SWAT HQ for the first time in half a year with a new haircut and a noticeable glow, you draw attention. Street sees you first and abandons his sparring match with Rocker to jump out of the ring and greet you with a warm hug. Luca and Hondo follow soon after, and then you’re hidden beneath four teammates as they rock you back and forth and welcome you back.

“Did you knock those Rocklin officers into shape?” Hicks asks, smiling as he wraps his arm over your shoulders in half a hug.

“I did my best,” you answer. “They got lucky with a good set of recruits.”

“About your position on 20 Squad…”

Your smile drops as you look over at Hondo. He manages to hold his composure for about five seconds before he laughs, bending over because of amusement at the devastated look on your face.

“It’s still yours,” Hicks promises, tapping your shoulder. “We’ve been waiting for you to get back since the day you left, we can’t replace you!”

You place your hand over your heart and exhale, shaking your head as your smile returns. They’re still the team you know and love, except for…

“Where’s Deacon?” you ask.

Hondo looks at Hicks, who looks at Luca, who looks down at his shoes.

“He’s at lunch with Annie,” Tan tells you softly. “They’ve been trying to work things out for a few weeks.”

You nod. “I was worried he’d abandoned you guys without me here to keep some semblance of sanity.”

Hondo smiles, relieved you’re not too upset by hearing the news. Inside, you’re unsure where you stand, but there’s also a glimmer of hope in this. You’re back where you started: Deacon is with Annie, and you’re working on yourself. Maybe this full circle moment is exactly what you need to move on and stop letting Deacon control your every thought.

“What are you doing tonight, Street?” you ask.

“What I was born to do, ballin’ and shot callin’,” he jokes. “You want to join? My buddy Kel will be there, I think you’d like him.”

You feel Hondo’s eyes on you, but you ignore his questioning look as you agree, “I’d love to.”

Several hours later, a car parks against the curb before your house. It idles for about a minute, then the headlights turn off before the ignition silences. Deacon exits the driver’s seat and tosses his keys back and forth between his hands as he approaches your door. He hasn’t seen you since you left for Rocklin. After a meeting with Annie in which they decided that their relationship was hopeless and they were better off as friends, he knew he had to see you and explain his feelings.

Deacon knocks on your door, but there are no lights on inside. He texts you, but there’s no reply to that either. Torn between calling you or taking this as a sign and leaving, Deacon leans against your door and thinks. The last six months without you have been made up of some of the hardest days of his life. He misses you and has come to understand just how much he needs you, and now that he has a chance to see you again, you’re not home. Just like always. Every chance he has seems to end like this, and Deacon isn’t sure how much more time he can give it before he’ll have to walk away from you. He’s been hurt, and he’s seen you hurt, so he doesn’t want to put himself or you through any more than he has to.

You enjoy the company at dinner with Street and his friends, but your mind drifts back to Deacon every moment you get.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Street’s friend Kel asks.

“There’s too much at stake,” you answer, shrugging.

“It’s all at stake if you don’t tell him, too.”

“Don’t be so smart, you’re supposed to be Street’s friend,” you joke. “I’ve been thinking about that, but… I guess I’m just scared about what might happen.”

“But you’re terrified by what might not.”

You smile and set your drink down. “At that, I’m calling it a night.”

“No!” Street exclaims.

“I haven’t slept in my own bed in six months and now all I can think about is Deacon. Which actually isn’t that much different than usual. I’ll see you at work, but thanks for tonight.”

The following day, you’re running off pure adrenaline. You tossed and turned all night, your mind swimming with thoughts of Deacon and everything you want, and it all seems reachable now. Then, when you arrived at work, you were met with an unhinged crime spree that had you bouncing between SWAT teams, in and out of HQ all day. Altogether, it left you even more tired and willing to tell Deacon everything.

That’s why running into him in the parking lot after sundown makes you stop. Your barriers are gone, your walls have been obliterated, and you don’t think about any consequences as you ask, “What took so long?”

Undeterred by your blunt question, Deacon responds, “It was never our time. Because it had to be perfect, but it never was.”

“And it never can be.”

“I don’t believe that. Do you?”

“No!” you answer, tossing your arms up. “So why have we been dancing around each other for years?”

“We were scared, waiting for the perfect moment in a world of imperfect opportunities.”

“And now?” you ask with a sad chuckle.

“Now feels pretty perfect,” Deacon says, his smile growing as he moves toward you.

“You can forgive me for missing you so often?” you ask as you lay your hands on his shoulder while his hands find your waist.

“If you can forgive me for doing the same.”

You nod and meet Deacon in the middle, falling into a kiss that brings your worlds together in a beautiful collision. Your lives connect, finally meeting after years of running parallel to one another and getting close enough to imagine what this would feel like. It’s the perfect product of every moment, every missed opportunity, and fear as you prove to one another that there’s love, admiration, and joy in your relationship. And this is only the beginning.

“Why’d you come to my house last night?” you ask as you pull back.

“How’d you know about that?” Deacon counters, raising his brows.

“Street took my phone, told me about the text during the Hollywood call this morning. I’m sorry I missed you.”

“It was the end of an era.”

You roll your eyes and kiss Deacon before he can make another comment about how it was somehow always but never your time until you took the leap and accepted the imperfect.

The door behind you opens then closes, and Hondo yells for the rest of your team when he sees you kissing Deacon. Finally.

[achilles-rage]

4, 5, 7, OR 10 (you choose!) with Rocker!

yay free reign with my only rocker request!! i have decided on number 7, hope that's okay!!<3

number 7 from this post: "finding a somewhat private area at a fancy party to fuck (coat closet, empty office, secluded corner on the big balcony, hedge maze if we wanna get dramatic, etc)"

btw, if you haven't already, @passionwillow wrote prompt 10 with rocker (here), which is so so so good and one i absolutely cannot compete with!!

you watch the yearly s.w.a.t fundraiser from the wall, glass of wine in hand as you watch various officers and hopeful donators mingling with an absentminded smile.

you're not sure why you're even here. rocker had invited you, and even helped you pick out the gorgeous long black dress you're wearing, but he's out working his charm on la's richest while you excuse yourself to get another drink.

it's not that he's ignoring you, it's quite the opposite. you just feel awkward standing next to rocker as he talks about s.w.a.t gear, and training, and protocol.

once everyone is introduced to each other, you're left standing there, hanging off of his arm and trying to keep up with what sounds like nonsense to you.

rocker finally tears himself away from an overeager woman trying to get a turn riding in black betty, for the right bid, of course, and he's set on finding you.

when his eyes finally land on you, he stays still for a moment, taking in the blissfully unaware expression on your face, and the way your dress hugs your curves and accentuates every part of your body that rocker loves.

when he finally approaches you, your smile widens, and you take his hand is he holds it out.

he raises the back of your hand to his lips with a smirk, and when he lowers it back down, he begins to speak.

"what's going on? not having a good time?" he asks, brows furrowed as he tries to read the expression on your face.

"no, i am. just don't really feel like i belong." you whisper, eyes darting around the room. his eyes soften at your words, and he grabs your wide hips, pulling you closer to him.

"why not?" you sigh, pursing your lips as you think for a moment.

"i just- the party is for s.w.a.t, and for important, rich people to donate money to you. i just don't like feeling unhelpful." you tell him with a shrug, tilting your head to the side as you look up at him.

he brings a hand up to your face, running his thumb over your cheek as he lets out a sad sigh.

"trust me, baby, you're being very helpful. i get to look at you in this dress all night; i think my good mood is helping me secure more donations." he teases, giving you a wink as he pulls you flush against him.

you feel your cheeks heat up at his words, and you wrap your arms around his neck, wine glass dangling from your hand over his shoulder.

"is that so?" you ask with a smirk, raising a brow.

"absolutely." he replies with a nod, his voice growing dark and raspy as he feels your plush body against his firm torso.

"you want me to show you?" he asks after a moment.

"like, now?" you ask, laughing softly in slight disbelief.

you're no stranger to rocker's sex drive, and the occasional occurrence of public sex, but there's absolutely no way he'd do it here. especially right now.

"follow me." is all he says, and then he's grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the exit.

you laugh softly, placing your glass on a random waiter's tray you pass by, and when you're finally outside and alone, you speak.

"what the hell are we doing?" you ask, and he pulls you up to fall into stride beside him, taking his hand from yours and looping it around your waist.

"just trust me." he whispers.

he leads you over to black betty, then makes sure the coast is clear before he pulls you behind it and pushes your back up against it.

his lips meet yours roughly, and his hips are pushing against yours firmly as he kisses you with fervour.

before you know it, your dress is hiked up around your waist, and rocker is fucking into you quickly, one hand on your leg that's hanging off his hip, and the other covering your mouth to muffle your moans.

he's fucking you like a man on a mission, desperate not to get caught, but even more desperate to feel you clench around him as you both reach your highs.

"do you know how long i've wanted to do this?" he rasps against your neck, muffling his own moans against your warm skin.

"you've dreamt of this exact scenario?" you tease, biting back a loud moan as he changes the angle of his thrusts, making his cock brush against the spot that has your toes curling.

"shut up. let me see you cum, sweetheart." he growls, the snapping of his hips getting harder and rougher as he feels himself getting dangerously close to the edge.

your moans are getting more breathy and high pitched, and as you're both about to cum, you hear voices cutting through the quiet air, forcing you both to freeze.

it's hondo, you think, and what must be some potential donators, and when you hear the mention of black betty. you're both pulling away from each other and desperately attempting to move your clothes back into place.

as the group is about to round the corner and spot you, rocker opens the door beside you and slams it loudly.

"i usually don't drive, though. she's a beast on the road." rocker says, and when hondo and the others come into view, rocker gives them a wide grin.

"wanted to show my girl black betty. she's been asking about it." he says nonchalantly, and all you can do is nod, thankful that no one seems to be suspicious.

thank god for your boyfriend and his quick thinking, you think as he pulls you back into the party with a silent laugh.

[metalhealth-willdriveyoumad]

Hottest Drummer Tournament Round 2

Neil Peart

Band(s): Rush // Buddy Rich Big Band // Vertical Horizon

Propaganda:

me personally i got nothing except he's literally the greatest drummer to ever walk the earth and my dad loves rush so that means extra points. there's definitely someone out there who does have more

Questlove

Band(s): The Roots // Saturday Night Live Band // The Philadelphia Experiment // The Randy Watson Experience // The Soultronics // Soulquarians

Propaganda

Albums/EPs as drummer:

Neil

Caress of Steel (Rush)

Fly By Night (Rush)

All The World’s a Stage (Rush)

2112 (Rush)

A Farewell to Kings (Rush)

Archives (Rush)

Hemispheres (Rush)

Permanent Waves (Rush)

Moving Pictures (Rush)

Exit… Stage Left (Rush)

Signals (Rush)

Subdivisions (Rush)

Grace Under Pressure (Rush)

Power Windows (Rush)

Hold Your Fire (Rush)

A Show of Hands (Rush)

Presto (Rush)

Roll the Bones (Rush)

Counterparts (Rush)

Test for Echo (Rush)

Vapor Trails (Rush)

Feedback (Rush)

Snakes & Arrows (Rush)

Clockwork Angels (Rush)

Questlove

Organix (The Roots)

From the Ground Up (The Roots)

Do You Want More?!!!??! (The Roots)

Illadelph Halflife (The Roots)

Things Fall Apart (The Roots)

The Legendary (The Roots)

Phrenology (The Roots)

The Tipping Point (The Roots)

Game Theory (The Roots)

Rising Down (The Roots)

How I Got Over (The Roots)

Wake Up (The Roots with John Legend)

Betty Wright: The Movie (The Roots with Betty Wright)

Undun (The Roots)

Wise Up Ghost (The Roots with Elvis Costello)

…And Then You Shoot Your Cousin (The Roots)

The Philadelphia Experience (The Philadelphia Experience)

Plumb (solo with David Murray and Ray Angry)