#like ‘hi dad just so you know you’re about to get a phone call that they’ve found my body’

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Country Honey

 ♡ featuring: ranchhand!toji x richgirl!reader

 ♡ synopsis: a spoiled, wealthy college senior is forced to spend her summer at her father’s rural farm as punishment for her reckless behavior and slipping academic performance. unbeknownst to her, a bigger storm awaits just around the corner.

 ♡ wc: 16.5k+ (AHHHHHH)

 ♡ cw/tw: afab!reader, enemies to lovers if you squint, hurt/comfort kinda sad toji, feral toji, spanking, overstimulation, edging, sadism/masochism, throat fucking, cock worship, m/f receiving, doggy style, degradation kink, brat taming, dumbification, reader is a spoiled brat a lot of the time

notes: oh god, where do i begin...i know ive been gone for so long. firstly i want to apologize, and secondly ill explain my absence in a second post. not proofread so i apologize, honestly i shouldnt have tried a long fic for my comeback bc it took way too long to finish, but either way i hope you all enjoy! art by moonlessoul on ig! comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

“Almost there.” 

The sleek luxury car your dad drives grumbles at a rocky pace over an evidently gravelly road. If you can even call it a road—rather the patchy fragments of flattened dirt eroded by heavy traffic from a forgotten time. It’s a path shrouded by southern live oak, canopying its leaves and spearing sharp rays of summer daylight through the sunroof.  

You’re feeling every second of this bumpy ride. The wheels hop over an unsteady rock and your knees jab into your sternum. You’re pressed into an unfortunate position, with your legs pinched to your chest and the bright pink suitcase you insisted on bringing sandwiching you to the leather seat. You struggle to wiggle to a decent side that spares your sweltering face from the sun, but the other seats are also occupied with your luggage. And the front seat. And the trunk. 

Maybe that’s why you were brought here in the first place. You’re well off to a sickening amount and you’ve made no efforts to conceal your wealth. Your dad sacrificed his golden years to foster an agricultural business in the rural south, and now you reap the rewards of his labor. You know it and spend it as such. You’ve collected a textbook of names throughout the years—spoiled, bratty, coddled, pompous—each insult savored more than the last. You embraced being a spoiled rich girl and all it had to offer. Top notch schools, waitlisted parties, designer bags, and just about any opportunity you could get your greedy hands on.  

High school left like the wind and before you knew it, the 4.0 extracurricular weapon you used to be devolved into a nightlife college senior, more invested in the extravagant yacht parties than your academic probation. It was a risky misstep, but you didn’t have the heart to care when your dad could easily pay your way to graduation. At this rate you’d be a couple years behind your peers. Your dad wasn’t having any of it. 

The festivities stopped. No unlimited debit card and especially no spending. This could possibly be your final senior summer, and instead of celebrating with friends you’re making up for your transgressions. The worst part is the rural retreat he’s currently driving you to with no sign of civilization for miles.  

You could die right now. 

“How much longer?” You drawl on the last syllable, flicking your phone on and off in hopes that a bar or two will magically appear in the top right. He glances at you through the rearview mirror, a tinge of southern, "Just a few more minutes.”  

You let you phone fall from your limp hand and lean your head against the open window. Nothing but ancient trees and the occasional berry bush. You’re not sure if you should be more upset by the consequences of your actions or the actual actions that roped you into this mess. Instead of ruminating on your mistakes, you allow your eyelids to droop in the oppressive warmth. 

“We’re here darling.” Your eyes shoot open. So soon, and surely not after the forest you’d been traversing moments ago. You’re able to scoot up more, the sound of stone-pathed roads rattling in your ears. You tuck your knees underneath you and lift yourself up now that the terrain was smoother, poking your torso out the window. A bane of light strikes you immediately, and you blink away its brilliance to reveal crystal blue skies. 

Your mouth shapes an ‘O’, and you push your designer glasses over your forehead. “...No way” you gawk, taken by the view your father cultivated. 

This is nothing like the previous tunnel, and certainly nothing like the skyscrapers you’ve grown accustomed to. It’s an endless expanse disrupted by stone and crowded with overgrown wheat, bobbing in the mild breeze. They travel up the winding hill, ducking under wooden fences to border the farmhouse. The two-story ivory home exudes simplicity, strung with hanging pothos that wrap around the spacious porch and decorative shuttered windows painted like strawberries. From your limited view you notice the large red wooden barn peeking out behind the house, and a dirt trail leading to productive areas; a small stable, cattle, and other farm animals coexist in a sector made for their comfort. Beside the home is the largest Magnolia tree you’ve ever seen, with branches extending over the pitched, fabled roof and overhanging eaves with sweeping petals. It’s purposefully overgrown and homely, a humble size incomparable to the mansion you were raised in. 

Your father pulls up to the oak gate with a tattered sign overhead: Welcome to Pleasantview Farms.  

The lack of security, never mind the lack of extravagance, is astonishing to you. It’s unexpected of your father—the man that required you have a designated butler all throughout secondary school. “You never told me about all this” you yell from outside the window, still gazing at distant rolling hills of dewy grass. “You never asked” he chuckles, and turns onto another hill leading up to the house. You look beneath you; patches of flowering weeds fighting their way past the pavement. 

He parks in an open plot half occupied by a wheelbarrow, packed to the brim with haybales. “We’re here.” He turns the car off and steps out to open your side. Your luggage slams onto the dirt before you do, and you yelp.  

“No, it’s gonna get dirty!” He laughs and brushes specs of soil off your precious bag. “And if it does, you’ll be alright pumpkin.” You groan and attempt to get out without sacrificing your hot pink slides, when your first foot gives into silt. You scream and stumble onto dry earth, leaving your phone behind to *splat* in the mud. You kick off the mud barely clinging to your shoes until you catch a glimpse of your glittery phone charm on the floor. It takes you a second to process the mud-covered device slowly descending, but when your brain synapses finally link, you expel an ear-shattering shriek. To which your dad stifles a smile at the dramatic performance. 

He picks it up and wipes the debris on his ivory shirt. “One more reason for you not to have it” he says and tucks it away in his pocket while you’re struck with a permanent look of horror. 

The front door swings open, and you turn to see a thin older woman. Slightly older than your father, her face is gentle and creased with living. Her hair fades from light gray to dark brown at the very tips, tied neatly into a bun with a coiled band. She removes her pale-yellow gloves and stuffs them into the back pocket of her bleached trousers, jogging up to you. “Good afternoon, Annie” he smiles, and she stretches a wide grin that nearly shuts her eyes. “Hello, sir. Is everything alright?”  

“Yup, just kids being kids” he snickers and plants both hands on either side of your shoulders. “This is my daughter.” 

“Good afternoon” you meek, devastated and contemplating the status of your phone. She audibly gasps and grabs your hands, and you jolt. “You’re even more beautiful in person. I’ve heard so much about you.” It’s like she’s studying your face with the way she gazes into your eyes, to which they fall onto your cheeks and hair. You’re not one to shy away from flattery, but the direct compliments spread embarrassment across your ears. 

“Keep her company while I get these from the car, will you? Maybe show her around.” She nods, and leads you on an impromptu tour through the house.  

“There isn’t much to see ‘round here, but I’ll try to make it interestin’ for ya” she jokes. The entryway is quaint, keeping nothing but rubber boots covered in dirt and farming tools used for today’s workload. “This where we keep what we need for today. S’just better to pick it up from the front.” You nod.  

Further in, the hallways are decorated with baby pictures of you at various photoshoots. On the left side, she shows you a pastel green kitchen embellished with colorful floral paintings above the handles. Annie talks with her hands, “This is my domain. Damn near painted the whole thing. Took a lot of convincin’, but I got it eventually.”  

“Do you live here?” you questioned. “We all do!”  

“All?” 

“Mhm”, she hums, “Me, Terrace, Lionel, and...” she trails off at the end. You’re surprised that they’re living where they work, and even more surprised that she’s all smiles while doing it. “Do you...like living here?” 

“Of course! Pays well, lots'a vacation time, and everything’s compensated.” You tilt your head slightly, “Where do you guys' sleep?” 

“We got our own place out back, all of us. Sweet deal, huh?” she says, patting your back. “And who was the other person that works here?” you ask. 

Annie waves off the idea, stating “You don’t have to worry ‘bout him, he’s not really the talkin’ type.” 

Perhaps it was her bluntness or her motherly cadence, but you quickly became comfortable with her presence dragging you around like a lost puppy. She showed you the living room that appeared to be vomited on by all things antique and vintage, and the bathroom tiled an ugly orange pattern. She led you outside, where a garden blossoming with peonies and hibiscus was trimmed carefully to adorn the pebbled path and fit around the barn. Far-out past the back gate you saw what you assumed was their living quarters, separated from miles of tillage. 

By the time she finished her grand tour, you made it upstairs together to regroup with your dad. The second floor was reserved for your bedrooms and attached bathrooms. Entering your room, there’s nothing special about it. It seems like your dad attempted to buy things similar to your style, but couldn’t quite figure it out. You weren’t expecting much of anything considering this was your first—and most likely last—time being here, but it’s truly mediocre. “Whaddaya think pumpkin?”  

“I love it” you choke out a lie and plop onto the red plaid bedding. Your luggage is lined up by the dresser, and you have quite the unpacking session awaiting you. Annie leans on the doorway. “I’ll let ya get settled in. We can do more in the morning.” Your dad leaves with her, and when you’re left alone stewing in the reality, you fall back onto the comforter. 

One day is entertaining, you’d even call it an enjoyable experience. But the entire summer? You spend the rest of the day emptying out suitcase after suitcase, and turn in under the heavy blankets starving off a midnight chill. 

You’re up before the crack of dawn, contemplating what you’ll wear as if that matters while you’re shoveling shit and carrying chicken feed. You throw on something impractical either way—a plaid button up tied to crop, tight denim shorts, and a brand new pair of shiny cowboy boots you just couldn’t resist buying when the trip was announced. You stomp your way to the back porch and are immediately hit with the bittersweet scent of humid pastures and last night’s rain within the tepid wind. It’s utterly quiet besides the distant echo of cattle and pigs, cicadas humming an airy tune. Your eyes latch onto the barn, slightly parted with a dim light going on the inside.  

You recall what Annie said to you during the tour when you asked what’s in the barn: “I suggest you leave it alone, nothin’ worth lookin’ at in there.” Her clear avoidance intrigued you, and the more she dodges actual answers the more curious you become. You tread carefully on the path so you don’t alert whoever or whatever’s inside. As you plant one weightless foot over the other, you stop.  

A deep, gritty voice; thick like the bark of an ancient redwood. He grunts then *chop*, followed by something solid rolling on a prickly surface. Another thick groan and another *chop*. You get closer to the barn and slide across it, practically dragging yourself against Annie’s wishes.  

*Chop* 

You clutch the side of the parted door. 

*Chop* 

You peak your head in. The two story barn houses an array of soils and tools used for farming on the bottom, and clumps of hay piled high at the top. 

The older man with a mop of inky hair hangs his head low, honed in on the objective beneath him. The sharp end of the axe steadies above his head, then cuts through the air as it lands deep within the stump. He goes for another swing, beads of sweat meandering between his pecs, down the carved muscle of his abdominal and disappearing below his chiseled v-line. He digs his thick calloused fingers into the crevice and splits it. It’s as if his physique was crafted by careful hands, weaving marble like silk only Roman gods could mimic. 

Your entirely distracted by the unexpected scene before you when the silence is cut by a clatter. His breaths are sharp and purposeful as he kicks it off the stand and trudges to the uncut pile of logs. You watch him with wandering eyes, taking mental notes of scars hiding underneath the fine hair spread across his torso. This isn’t the grumpy old man you imagined when Annie spoke so brazenly about him. 

He hasn’t glanced at you once, despite standing right in front of the post he’s chopping on. It’s slightly aggravating. You’ve never had to ask for anyone’s attention before. You bathed in wealth, just enough to make even the snobbiest trust-fund kid turn his head. He must be blind. So, you wait until he comes to his senses, tapping your foot with your arms crossed over your chest.   

And you do that...for a while. More than a few minutes pass, and you’re still standing here. You stir in the silence and methodical chopping, feeling flustered at how needy you look waiting for a man's response. A piece of wood—more important than you? Impossible. In a last-ditch attempt, you clear your throat rather dramatically. Nothing. A log rolls by your foot and the older man walks up to you only to kneel down and grab the wood before going back to his task. Heat creeps onto your cheeks. Are you fucking kidding me?  

“Are you hard of hearing, mister?” you finally ask, batting your eyelashes at him. It’s a deep contrast to the irritation boiling in your stomach, so much so you have to choke back the vulgar words bubbling at the surface.  He glimpses you with frosted olive eyes and swings the axe over his head. In a mild country accent he replies, “No.”  

“...Oh.” You’re struck with palpable quiet once again. You’re fixed to the floor, struggling with something to say that doesn’t start with ‘fuck you’. As you’re about to open your mouth, he speaks.  

“Heard ya the first time.  If ya wanna talk, use your words.” You stare in utter disbelief. Was it audacity or straight stupidity? You can’t imagine anyone disrespecting their employer’s child, let alone commanding them.   

“Excuse me?” He tosses the last log in the pile.  

“Hm? Should I do it in a way you’ll understand?” he brings his fist to his lips, clearing his throat as you did.  There’s a glint through that frost, the twinkle of an obvious shit-stirrer. You’re pissed no doubt, but the corner of your lip twitches at a challenge. 

The most important tool to a wealthy family is humility. You can’t be too self-centered or prideful to strangers, dropping hints of sugary kindness as to not sour your perception. Perception is truly everything. Even so, the flowered words you’ve been taught to wield with grace wilt at the sight of him. 

“Oh, so it’s gonna be like that, huh?” You scoff, plopping down on the stump. He wipes his dirt-dusted hands on the back of his overalls, straps dangling at his thighs. “Not sure what ya mean.” 

“From what I’m getting, you’re a grumpy asshole. That description sound correct?” 

“‘M only an ass when trust-fund kids call me like I'm a dog.” 

“You know, the way Annie talks about you I thought you’d be some geriatric old man on his death bed! Turns out you’ve still got a couple more months in you—congrats!” 

He laughs, “‘Preciate it. If I’m correct you must be papa’s spoiled little brat from the big city?” 

“Mhm. Don’t worry, this was your first offense so I’ll let it slide. Remember to get on your knees when you apologize.” He pretends to ponder the idea, “Think I’ll pass. You can pick up one ‘o them bags up though and bring ‘er up to the field.” 

You pause for a second, blinking. Instantly you double over with snorting laughter, the kind that tints your face and gathers tears at your lashes. You’re even clutching your stomach from how funny it is. When you come up from your fit, he’s there with his arms crossed under his chest. That’s when you realize he wasn’t joking by any means. You gape in disbelief, a chuckle still caught in your throat. 

“Wait…you’re serious?” He walks over to one of the sacks and tosses it at your feet. “Well, get to work. I’ll show ya where to put it.” You purse your lips when a giggle slips, “Do you really think that’s gonna happen? Must be the age catching up with your brain.” 

“I think it is gonna happen cause yer in my area. If you wanna be here, you’re gonna work. Nothin’s free ‘round these parts.” You hop off the stump and stand in front of him. Unfortunately, your attempt to size him up fails as your crane your neck to meet his gaze. “You can’t make me do anything. In fact, this is my property, and you’re here to do your job. So go do it” you terse. 

“Nah, that’s not how this works. You’re on the farm now, not some bullshit country club you go to on weekends. Take yer ass to that bag and pick it up.” 

You feign a pout, “Isn’t a pretty girl in your presence enough hard work already?” 

“Not when she has so much mouth. The pretty ones know how to shut up.” 

“I wouldn’t have so much mouth if you didn’t back talk.” He gets in close, only inches away from your face. 

“Either go pick flowers, whatever girly shit you do, or do what I tell you to do.” 

“I’ll tell my dad you’re forcing me into manual labor.” 

“Aww, go ahead” he mocks with a smirk. He walks towards the door, wrapped in golden sunlight. Curious, you try tugging on the sack and nearly face-plant over the weight of it. There’s no way he expects you to carry it on your own. He turns back around, laced with mirth. 

“By the way, name’s Toji. Welcome home, sweetheart.” 

“Go do it yourself since you’re so good at it! You egotistical, selfish, brutish-” 

“Pompous ass instigatin’ little-” 

“-Callous disrespectful pig!” 

“-Brat.”  

The words topple over themselves and you both can’t get a full sentence in as insults are hurled like physical objects. The few days you’ve spent on the farm so far have been nothing short of hell, specifically around Toji. You’ve never worked this hard in your life; then again, that’s not saying much. He'd disregard your lack of general strength and enthusiasm. Sometimes he’d hold the underside of the bag to take some of the weight off, to which you often added “why don’t you just grab the whole damn thing?” A smirk and curt response were simply “Nope.” 

Most days you merely dragged a few bags to the pick-up truck and spent the rest of the day lounging around the garden. You’d stumble into the kitchen, a bead of sweat barely manifesting on your brow, and complain to Annie about Toji’s evil plan to make you contribute. 

Today is no different and you laze on the chair with your back bent over it, groaning in theatrical agony. Annie sits across from you funneling blueberry muffin batter into a silver muffin tin. “Yea, yea, I hear ya” she jokes.  

“Annie, do something” you drawl. She throws her hands up, “Can’t. Thats on you, now.” You scrape the side of the bowl and pop a blueberry-dipped finger in your mouth.  

“Don’t eat raw egg, hun” she says, turning her back to put the tray in the oven. You unconsciously take another swipe, then the door swings open. Heavy cowboy boots trail to the kitchen, and you glance at the doorway. Toji leans on it with his hands in his pockets, white tank sprinkled with grass blades.  

“Shit” you mumble.  

“’M lookin for ya and here you are stuffing your face.” 

“The girl neva worked a day in her life an’ you want her to be your assistant” Annie jests.  

“’S about time, ain’t it? We’re not done yet. C’mon.” You let out another reluctant groan and follow behind him. “This is bullshit, nobody does this on a normal day.” 

“Yea, nobody you know.” 

In front of the wheelbarrow bags upon bags are filled to the brim with juicy red apples and the truck is just a few feet away. Your eyebrow twitches imagining the weight in your arms. “You can go fuck yourself if you think-” before you can finish your sentence, a bag is dropped into your arms that briefly sends you to the ground. Toji picks up two and flings them over his back. “What? Too weak?” He walks to the truck, ignoring the glare burning holes in the back of his head. Too weak, my ass. You definitely couldn’t beat him in a fight, but you damn sure wouldn’t let him talk down on you after proving your competence. You pull it up and haul it backwards, not without a few mild choice words. 

“Jerk.” 

The pungent odor of slurry and trough feed overcome any habitable air near the pig farm. The clothespin you have clamped around your nose barely blocks the smell. It’s the middle of the day, rays rippling heat off the stench and sending it for miles. Your cowboy boots struggle to sit upright on the uneven terrain blanketed with mud.  

You don’t dare to open your mouth and complain in fear of it invading your sinuses. It’s your fault for nagging endlessly about the “back-breaking” work Toji forced you to do. your criticisms were met with some rendition of “suck it up”, and arguing only went in circles. Consistent arguing—from the moment you woke up to the last minutes of your shift, where you mouthed off one too many times for his liking. When you threatened to find another shift with someone else, he laughed in your face, a “good luck” drowning in derision.  

 Eventually Terrace got word of your grievances and offered part of his work to you. You accepted too soon without consulting Annie, happy to just rub it in Toji’s face that he’d be on his own carrying the bags. Simply the concept of it—Toji hunched over and covered in sweat with heaps of cargo—satiated your pride, and you’d count the days until he groveled and begged for your help again. 

Except that’s not the case. As you fight the urge to sink into the mud a seed of regret grows in a more reasonable part of your mind. You could ask for your position back, where he’d probably be waiting with that shit-eating grin of his and “I told you so” written all over his face. Or you could be stubborn and prove whatever point you’re trying to make. Stupidly headstrong, you swallow the urge to vomit and plod into the pig pen.  

The squelch of damp earth and God-knows-what underneath your boots is enough to make you sick. You’re balancing two full buckets of pigswill on either side of you, resisting the lack of steadiness that causes you to lean unfavorably. It’s no help that there’s filthy pigs all around you, snorting and trotting along. One bumps into the bucket and you shriek; your foot goes airborne and impending doom flashes before your eyes. Luckily, you gain stability and plant it firmly into the ground with an awful bubbling noise. The mess has soiled your boots coming up to your calves, and you frantically check for mud-to-skin contact. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it’d definitely be the end of your day. Suddenly, a whistle from the other side of the wooden fence grabs your attention. 

“Go on then, pig queen!” Toji yells, elbows propped on the edge. His accent gets thicker when he yells. He’s not affected by the smell in the slightest, and it almost looks like he’s breathing in extra hard to taunt the shortage of oxygen reaching your brain. 

“Fuck you!” you yell in a nasally tone. He adjusts his cowboy hat, “I’d focus on what’s in front of ya. Wouldn’t wanna slip in shit, right?” You scoff and continue to the troughs.  

You can’t imagine how Terrace, let alone anyone does it—from the constant clamor of livestock to sinking in pools of muck for hours. There’s dirt on your knees, clothes, in places you never imagined dirt could reach. The pigs seem excited as you place the pails on the rim, whereas you exert a long sigh for the fulfilled trek. They come running in unison as if something triggered in their brains, pushing past each other to get there first. Once they’re emptied, a partial weight lifts from your shoulders. You shoot an arrogant sneer at Toji, and watch the corner of his scar tip up just a little. You’re still pinned to the side, and a wet snout gently prods your exposed leg. It tickles and you laugh at its cluelessness. “Hey, I’m not on the menu.”  

As you slither out the crowd, a sneaky puddle attempts to take you out. You cling to the embarrassment, to Toji standing right there ready to mock you. You won’t give him the satisfaction. From there you take careful steps, one cautious foot after the other. Toji meets you around the entrance, and you’re about to reach the gate. You’re oozing confidence now; you might even brag to your father about the effortlessness of it all, that living on a farm is nothing, that you were able to accomplish anything— 

Slip. Crash! 

You’re knocked clean off your ass, so fast it doesn’t register until a few blinks pass. You hold a breath and the blurriness fades.  

Brown. It’s on your face.  

It’s truly everywhere—mud sloshing around in your boots, seeping into your clothes, sticking to the crevices, your fingers intertwined in the mass below.  

The emotion you try to stifle boils over into a horrified squeal, a tune that exceeds the pigs. And you scream and scream. Once for the mud and twice for the death of your designer boots. You’re so entwined in your own screams that you barely catch the laughter a few feet away.  

It’s him, doubled over with a practically red face. “I get you wanna be one of the pigs but you don’t hafta roll in it too!” Toji chortles. He can’t contain himself, wiping the tears on his glove. 

Your ears feel hot. “Shut the fuck up and get me out of here!” 

“Relax, relax. Gimmie a second.” The footsteps get further away, and you stumble to the gate to open. It doesn’t matter now that the damage is done, and you look like some terrifying swamp monster from myth. The lower half of you could only be concocted in a child's nightmares. 

Something snakes in the trampled grass, then it pauses. “Here.” Sooner than you can turn your head, you’re blasted with water. It rains on you like a thundershower and you cover your face from the assault. Denim weighs heavy, and your hair sticks to your face. You feel the dirt washing off, but now you’re soaked in a mixture of water and sodden debris. Wet, you’re spitting out water and treating your fingers like windshield wipers. The hose finally drops, and your eyes trail from the hand to the face.  

That shit-eating grin. 

“No need to thank me, miss piggy.” 

Your lip twitches. Should you kill him? Absolutely. Is it worth it? In this moment, yes. You’re doused, dirty, nose blind, and no longer hanging on to your act of humility. You have to get him back, at least once. It doesn’t matter if you have to wait all summer for it, creeping in doorways for the perfect time to demean him. There’s no level playing field—either your way or nothing. A smile stretches across your face. 

“You’re so right, darling. Now let me show you just how much I appreciate you.” You saunter to him, and he awaits with open arms. Before he can grab you, you dodge him and snatch the hose from the ground.  

Aim and fire, full force directly at his face. The blast knocks his hat off and into the air, swaying in the balmy breeze. His arm falls short of snatching it, plopping into the pen to blend with shit. You can’t hear the muffled curses he spouts, but damn is it satisfying to silence him. Then he reaches for you to which you promptly escape his span. You take time hosing down any remaining dry spots, and once the hose is down, he launches. You yelp and return to his face, and the abruptness makes him slip. Right into the mud you just shook off, he lands butt-first. It splatters his cargo pants and creates polka dot patterns on the white tank stretching to accommodate his frame. “You little-” 

Another burst of water. He tries to stand on slippery foundation and quickly falls, earth splashing back on him. You understand why he was laughing so hard and you can’t stop giggling at the misery of inescapable rain showers.  

“Looks like you needed some too! I can smell you from here!” you laugh. His snicker comes off more conniving than it should, and you brace for whatever hell you’ll have to pay later. He bolts up, and you make a run for it. Just when he thinks he has you, he slips again.  

“Poor grandpa! Someone get his life alert!” you cackle, dropping the hose and sprinting for the hills. You’re too afraid to turn around when you know for a fact he is mere feet away from capturing you. You cut through air, nothing but crumpling grass and laughter carried by the wind. It’s exhilarating...fun?  

You're confused by your own actions. You smell horrible, your hair is sticky, disgusting slop clings to you like a second skin, the sun is only baking the scent, and your self-proclaimed rival is chasing you.  

You should be mortified, and somehow, you’ve never felt better. 

Motes of dust scatter within the golden hue of mornings wake. The window’s cracked open, and remnants of last night's chill carry through sunrise. You’ve sat in this claw tub for way too long, melting in steam and lavender bubbles that slowly dissipate the longer you linger. A self-care day is what you need, especially after the “incident” that still makes your skin crawl weeks later. Simply your mud mask, waning candles, and rustling leaves. It’s rare you get silence like this nowadays, with Toji constantly on your back bickering about trivial problems.  

You can’t place your finger on what bothers you more, or if you’re really even bothered at all. Ironically, spending more time mulling over what you hate than actually hating him. You can mouth your contempt for him endlessly like an affirmation on deaf ears, but it never truly manifests.  

He’s annoying, selfish, crude, and disrespectful. 

Oh, and did I mention very annoying? 

It’s almost a bonding experience between you two; you’ve memorized the way his lips curve before a snarky remark, the deep crease on one side of his eyebrow when they furrow at something stupid you unintentionally did, his jaw clenching from held back words. His laugh—deep and resounding, unleashing a toxic mix of vomit and thrill in your stomach. You anticipate it, practice your insults in the shower for it, as if...you’re actually looking forward to it? 

You steep further into the fragrant bath, hoping you’ll somehow be sucked into an alternate reality where you don’t have to face those conflicting emotions. To your displeasure, the conflict is brought directly to you.  

A roaring engine disrupts your personal spa, and you jolt up. It sounds like a monster truck convention decided to congregate right below your bathroom window, and you definitely can’t relax under these conditions. You loosely wrap the towel around yourself and peer out over the windowsill. You can’t see a face, but you see that distinct cowboy hat stained over its silver conchos. 

“Hey!” you yell. No response, but how could you expect him to when the hood is propped up. He must be wrenching something inside judging by the way his back muscles methodically tighten. 

“HEY!”  

“TOJI!” That gets his attention and he squints above, wrench still in hand. “Oh! What are ya doing there?” 

“This is my bathroom you idiot!” 

He pans between the vehicle and your window. “Oops!” 

“Turn it off, I’m trying to have my beauty bath in peace!” 

  “Welp, can’t do anything about that now, can we?” He makes no attempt to turn it off, nor does he give you any more attention as he turns around and resumes working like nothing happened. 

You run downstairs completely haggard, mud mask hardly washed off with a pair of mismatched socks and a baggy shirt. The rumbling gets louder, and you don’t have the patience for appearances when you step into those clod-smeared boots.  

The screen door swings open and you march to the side of the house, towel bunched in your arms. 

He doesn’t regard you until you launch it at his face, which he promptly catches without looking. “Thanks, needed somethin’ to dry off.” He wipes the oil streaks from his face and neck while you stand there scowling. His eyebrows narrow. 

“What’s the problem now?” You should've predicted he’d say this, as every time a dispute arises over his uncivil actions he asks the same clueless question. 

“What...God, you’re so annoying sometimes! Do you not understand how it doesn’t make any sense for you to be here and-” He’s spacing off, scratching the side of his head with the wrench. It drives you up the wall when he acts like this. 

“Listen to me!” That triggers him back to the present, and the light flickers in his eyes just to deadpan you. “You done?” 

“No, I’m not done. Say you’re sorry” you command. He takes the hat off his head and places it on his chest. “My apologies, princess. I’ll be sure to call the company and let them know their machine is too loud for your prissy little ass” he smiles, coy and bowing. You nudge him and the wind rushes from his nose. 

“When you call them, let them know their piece of shit junk needs to be out of commission.” 

“Well, this piece of shit lasts a lifetime.” 

“What even is this?” You’re analyzing it, and it reminds you of the illegal three-wheelers certain people ride through the city. It has no seatbelt or roof, and a row of sharp spinning blades hooked to the back. 

“City girl’s never heard of this, huh? ‘Sa tiller. Gets the job done durin’ plantin’ season.” You step towards it, but Toji stops you from going further with his arm. “Don’t go near the blades.” 

“Obviously.” You shoo him and climb into the seat of tiller. You sink into the leather seat, lay back, and cross your feet on the wheel. Toji grimaces, but that subtle sign that you’re inconveniencing him eggs you on. 

“Get yer feet off the wheel.” 

“Mm, nah. It’s not hurting anyone.” 

“’S hurting me.” 

“Hmph, okay.” You switch your feet to the opposite cross, and he looks up to an invisible God, probably begging it to give him the strength to not throw you off. 

“What did I-” 

“Sorry, can’t hear you over the engine!” you scream. He sighs and hunches back over the hood. “Jus’ be quiet for me, have to finish this.” Funny how he asks for quiet in these deafening circumstances. 

You didn’t plan on watching him work, but you hate to admit it’s kind of interesting. It’s the quietest he’s ever been, sweat trickling down his temples from the apparent heat on the inside. This must’ve been what Annie meant at the beginning, about his silence and reluctance to speak unless being spoken to. The scars scattered on his bicep shift with the cranking wrench, and you can’t help but focus on it. They’re too deep to be cat scratches and healed with a bunched sheen under its darker edges. There’s one under his collarbone, too, peeking past his shirt neckline dark and jagged. Your mind wanders, for the past life he had—what was his family like, why does he choose to live here, why are there so many scars, what led him to- 

“You’re staring.” You snap out of it, to him wiping the excess oil on his shirt. 

“Sorry.” 

“Oh? Where’d that hospitality come from all of a sudden?” You can’t explain why, but there’s a solemn pit burning in your stomach. Perhaps you’d lighten up a bit, at least for now. “Appreciate it while it lasts” you remark. He grins and gets back to work. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Changin’ the ignition coil. That’s why she sounds like hell.” 

Your ears perk up, “She?” 

“Yup.” 

“Does she have a name?” 

“Nope.” 

“Can I name her?” He puts the replacement coil on, “Knock yourself out.” 

“Hmm…how about….Priscilla?” He can’t purse his lips quick enough to stop the laugh that escapes.  

“Hey! I think Priscilla’s a cute name” you add. “Yeah, for an old woman.” 

“No way, an old woman name would be something like ‘Gertrude’.” 

“Gertrude’s on the same level as Priscilla.” 

“Either way it’s fitting, isn’t it? An old woman for an old man.” His scar tips up. “Ha ha. Think I’m pretty fit for an old man, though.” 

Your eyes reluctantly snap to his chest muscles peeking through the shirt. “You manage.” He pushes the coil away from the flywheel. 

“Maybe Rosy? Oh, or Susie.” 

“Think I’ll just call ‘er (Y/N).” 

“Huh? Why my name?” 

“So when you make me mad, I can curse her out instead of you. Best part is she won’t talk back.” He tightens the last screws and shuts the hood. Immediately the banging stops, and the engine reduces to a whir. You clap sarcastically, “Nice job! You get a C minus.” 

“Why not an A?” 

“You’ll get an A when you stop pissing me off.” 

Sticky sunbeams melt and mold into your pores, stiff from the aftereffects of its suffocating warmth. The sky gives way to a heatwave, where shimmering hot sheets scorch the ground and ripple like a retreating ocean. Lionel taught you how to harvest fruit before the rooster’s crow, and you reaped the rewards of your labor all morning. You’re numbed to the moisture collecting on your face at this point, as its vicious, stuffy humidity swallows your breaths and envelops your bleary eyes. You chose to shut them over battling the sun, bathing in its essence. It would settle in the late afternoon and blend to a forgiving mess of sunset swatches, but in the meantime, you’d soak up a bronzing tan.  

You brought a blanket to the nearest tree you could find, an expansive canopy spearheading small manageable daylight. You’re leafing through the pages of a non-fiction novel you never finished with a makeshift flower bookmark tucked under your thumb. You occasionally stop to dive in the compensation for your earlier efforts; a basket of scarlet strawberries twisted around prickly stems. 

The book tugs from your grasp and you prop up your sunglasses, gazing at the perpetrator. 

It only takes a glance to notice how badly burnt Toij’s body is. Does he really need someone to remind him to apply sunscreen, a basic necessity, or did he get too wrapped up in his work again? Toji was, if nothing else, a hard worker. You caught yourself on more than one occasion observing him. You saw it in the way the other farmers freely asked for his help, and how he’d give it for nothing in return. He moved like the wind, stoic demeanor all consuming, to behave like the rough muteness he pushed upon himself. 

A rosy shade diffuses on the apples of his cheeks and clearly separates from the protected and unprotected parts of his flesh. Its shape outlines a tank top he must’ve been wearing with the bottom hiked up, bright rubescent pattern surrounding his surprisingly smooth pecs. You take a mental note to nag him about it next time. The smudged outline of your glasses reflects on his glistening lower abdomen and his chest heaves like a marathon in the desert.  

“What ya reading?” he asks. His eyes drag across the page. “None of your business” you retort, hazy and lax from summer’s embrace. He peers over the book and passes it off to you.  

“Don’t seem like the reading type.” He plops down on the grass with a basket of dirt and carrots, few contorted to an inedible extent. “Neither do you.” He digs his fingers in the basket and begins fishing out the deformed carrots. The usual banter, macerated by exhaustion, ghosts by with little intent. 

“If you’re looking for help, I don’t feel like it.” 

“I know.” 

You both don’t say anything for a while, taking in the warmth, the cicadas buzzing in a faraway tree, the brewing pause between your bodies, unsaid words binding you to selfish outcomes, depriving you of your deepest hunger. The book is no longer as interesting as you remember. You’re more inclined to watch the sunburnt farmer. 

He picks up another clump. Inching along the carrot is a ladybug. Toji regards it for a second with the same eyes that chop trees and drag metal. At first, he does nothing. Then you track the tip of his finger as it prods slightly, goading the ladybug onto it. He carries it with the same unwavering stoicism to a blade of grass, where the ladybug hops off and continues its journey.  

Speechless would be an understatement. Truthfully, he’s the last person you’d expect to act that way. Those battered palms, bruised and scarred, tattered with memories, could appear so gentle. Those same hands would afford the fragile beings of mankind a moment of mercy. Only you are granted the privilege of Toji’s micro movements; his shoulders slumping from their usual solidity, his eyelids relaxing, jaw unclenching. Is this what he wanted you to see? Is that why he came here, sitting in the shade of a rival you thought you had? You must be staring for too long because- 

“…What?”  

“Oh. Uh, nothing.” 

He returns to what he was doing.  

“It’s about the search for meaning in life. A psychiatrist's perspective.” 

“Your book?” He asks, sifting through the sod. 

“Yeah.” 

“So…did he figure it out?” 

“He believes that the primary human drive is not pleasure, but the pursuit of what we find meaningful.” He doesn’t react, but a curious part of you wanted him to respond. Tell you a story or spill his guts, lay bare in front of you so that you may latch on to something, anything that isn’t rumors or hushed whispers for the man unknown to everyone. He checks another carrot—it’s as if he’s looking past it, like a light switched off, engulfed in a reflection pulling him further and further. 

You point the tip of a strawberry to him and his attention diverts, “You want?”  

“Can’t. Hands full.”  

You eye them; thick and calloused, fingernails lined with soil, probably sore along with the rest of his body. You can’t bear to watch—surely not because you care, but because of your sudden aptitude to kindness.  

“Just come here.” He leans over cautiously, and the shock is palpable when you press it to his lips. He seems to contemplate the risk of poison for a second.  

“If I wanted to kill you, it would’ve happened already. Open.” He obediently parts his mouth, and you feed it to him. Toji’s eye contact stuns like a spell from a Greek myth—devastatingly enchanting and hard to disengage. Just when you think you have the upper hand, you’re quickly reminded that dynamic can easily change. He rolls his tongue over the bite mark and sucks the juices, and you can’t look away—you won’t. 

 It’s the sun. it has to be. It’s getting to you both.  

You flinch when his lips ghosts against your knuckles. Soft and slightly chapped. Sugary liquid pools at the plush center of his lips where your eyes linger for too long, and he licks that up too. It’s over as quick as it began. Then you’re stuck stirring in the disarray of your own deluded thoughts.  

His scar curls with a growing smirk. It’s a shallow cut, but sunken, nonetheless. You tell yourself it’s the weather when your thumb moves from the strawberry to his face. Languid, careful motions where the hollow of his cheek would be, like gaining the trust of a wild animal. He doesn’t budge, and you press it to the corner of his mouth. 

“How’d you get this mark on your face?” 

“Not important” he responds curt. 

“Why? I wanna know.” His jaw clenches, reappearing stiff and guarded. “Don’t push it.” 

You trace it, fixating, studying the feeling. You drag downwards, tugging it slightly.  

“…like someone cut you” you mutter. 

Suddenly, he stands up with the basket. His joy fades to indifference; eyes encased in a dense fog. You retreat to your side, and he doesn’t acknowledge you as he starts down the hill. 

“I-“  

“I have to get this to Lionel. See ya.” 

You’re given the back of him, receding into the distance. There’s a dull pounding in your ears, a twitch in your limbs that pleads for you to follow. But what would you say? What could you say? It doesn’t come to fruition.  

The space between you widens with each step. 

“-we’re expecting to see cloudy skies and storms for the re-” the portable radio buzzes in and out of connection, “-prepare for the weather by-”. Annie fiddles with the tuner to get it back on track. It crackles and scratches, but the connection can’t be regained, finally diminishing to static. 

You weren’t listening either way, huddled with your knees close to your chest on the window seat, resting your head as raindrops trickle down the glass and pitter-patter the windowsill. The trees bend to the will of the raging wind, and they’re being pulled every which direction. Ceramic settles behind you, and you crane your neck to Annie, then the novelty mug resembling an orange. You don’t reach for it, but you stare for a while, teabag bleeding burgundy under the millions of candles placed around. 

“Thank you for the tea.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

You’ve had a hard time sleeping lately. Conflictingly so, since you’d imagine more sleep would be had with Toji coming around less. It’s what you wanted. Him chasing you was exhausting, wasn’t it? His behavior, his manners, him—it was just a bother. You should be glad you haven’t seen him since the incident. 

If he pained you, why are you kept awake, fumbling with the covers, incessantly thinking of Toji? You put together witty remarks for when you cross paths again, new creative insults, schemes you’ll act out to piss him off—all of this for someone you tried to get away from for half the summer. You assumed a week would pass and everything would be back to normal. But one week turned into two, then three. Your stay is coming to a close, and as you reflect, you’re forced to reconsider the unspoken reality gnawing at your thoughts since the moment you first met. 

That you were free to be dirty, to curse, to learn, to get mud on your face and dirt underneath your fingernails. You could lounge in an outfit from days ago or dance in the fury of midsummer. You were stupid, but not inferior the way wealthy upperclassmen made you out to be. You had the freedom to be stupid. There were no hierarchies or social status between you—simply hard work and hostility. Somehow that, being tangled in the thorns of a never-ending war, felt better than the yacht parties you’d been accustomed to. 

He sets your blood aflame, but noting ignites a fire in you like Toji. 

Annie sits crisscross on the loveseat, warming her hands with the cup. You return her content smile.  

“Everythin’ alright, sugar?” 

“Think I messed up.” 

“Hm? How so?” 

“I feel like...I overstepped. Actually, I know I did, and I feel bad. Even though I think I shouldn’t.” 

Annie exhales a soft laugh, “Assumin’ this is about Toji?” 

You nod, and she traces the rim of the cup. “If ya don’t care about ‘im, don’t feel bad.” You don’t reply, and she continues, “Though...I have a sneaky suspicion you care more than you'd like to admit.” 

You bury your head further into you. “Feelings are weird” you mumble. 

“They defnintely are. But sometimes it’s good to listen to ya heart. Take it from an old lady.” 

“...” 

“When ya feel bad about somethin’ ya did, the best way’s to apologize.” 

You peek through your arms, “Has he ever told you? Like, about his life?” 

She wanders in thought, recollecting an old memory, “Nope. Youngin’ showed up on the farm one day all scratched up and been workin’ ever since.” 

If nobody knew, you wouldn’t expect him to comply with your demands. You’re conscious of what needs to be done, but doubt surfaces. What does my heart tell me? 

You start tying your boots and throw on a hoodie in a pile by the door.  

“Do you know where he is?” 

“Not a clue.” That’s fine. Today, you’d be the one chasing after him. 

The brunt of the storm smacks you in the face once the door flies open. “Careful out there!” she hollers, and you shut the screen behind you. Your fight or flight refuses to let go of the knob as the squall persists, invoking a shrouded sea of churning clouds and indigo, banging against the foundation of the house. You scale the side and notice the barn, no light inside. You go around the back and it’s the same, wheat failing to resist the storm. However, for a split second you squint and spot a flicker. It’s faint and the size of a firefly from your view, coming from the stables further down. There’s a chance it isn’t him, but you don’t have much room for hypotheticals.   

The safety of the overhang leaves you, and you’re in the middle of a downpour. Running, inching the line of being knocked off your feet from an abrupt gust. You’re submerged in seconds, but you don’t stop running. If your heart tells you to endure, then you will. Raindrops threaten to invade your eyes, whacking you repeatedly in the face, but you shut tight and go forward. The last stretch to the stable feels like clawing up a mountain. The flurry hauls your clothes, and your steps get heavier and heavier as nature batters the earth. 

Then the sleeve shielding your face grazes something solid. You glue yourself to the side of it and pry your eyes open. An oil lantern, shining bright in the dark. You shuffle around for the sliding door and slip inside. The interior is cozy, haybales piled wherever they could fit and a couple large wooden stables supported by beams. The power must’ve went out everywhere, oil lanterns casting dimly.  

Your instinct to breathe ceases when you see Toji. His cowboy hat is tilted back, paisley bandana tied loosely around his neck with an ear of wheat tucked in his teeth. He glances at the sound of the door slamming. You’re blanking, even after you mulled over those sleepless evenings. It doesn’t help that your heart won’t function properly.  

“...Hey” he says, a tone unrepresentative of his avoidance. He grins—in the exact way you like—and picks the straw out. 

You’re irritated he’s even attempting to talk to you as normal. 

“It’s rainin’. You should be inside.” He grabs his shirt and pats your face dry. You don’t complain; a musky scent of cedar and salt when you inhale. “I could say the same to you. Why are you out here?” you murmur through the cloth. 

“Horses get a little antsy when the weathers like this. Came by to calm em’ down.” He pets the blonde mane of one of lighter horses, covered in brown spots.  They look comfortable around him, loose lower jaw slanting to his touch. You’re forgetting how to talk. There he goes again, subverting your expectations. 

“What kind of horse is it?” 

“Spotted draft horse. She’s real gentle, wouldn’t hurt a fly.” 

“She’s pretty.” He flashes his canines, “Her name’s Marie.” 

“Old woman name” you say under your breath. He laughs. “Wanna pet ‘er?” 

You’re shy but interested, shuffling closer to the stable. The tips of your ears blossom when his palm encloses your wrist, rough skin abrading yours. Then he guides you to the side of Marie’s neck. “You’re gonna pet here. Nice an’ slow, yeah?” he instructs, way too close. It’s silky, and you’re absorbed in the feeling of it on your fingertips. She neigh’s mildly and you jolt. Toji keeps you still. 

“Atta girl” he whispers, husky and painfully smooth in your ear. It fills your head like a shot of whiskey and a tipsy glow flows from your face. Your muscles tense, troubled from your anticipated apology and the unforeseen shift in feelings for him. There’s no way you can do this without stumbling. 

“I didn’t know you liked horses so much.” He lets go. 

“Yup. Used to have one.” You turn to him. His pleasant expression remains, but it’s solemn, bittersweet. You take a long breath and let it spill. 

“I’m sorry for what I did before. I realized I made you uncomfortable asking those questions. It won’t happen again.” 

He subdues his hum and he’s awkward in his stance, rubbing the back of his head like a guilty child. “I was never mad. I just...” He trails off. 

“Never mind that. Big man still pissed at you?” he asks, like mood switch occurred. If he won’t dwell on it, you’ll try not to either. You connect the dots to your father's pet name. 

“That’s what you call him?” you giggle. 

“Yup, since I got to the farm.” 

“I hope not, if he is I’ll probably never leave.” 

“Is that a bad thing?” It’s a humorless joke, wavering someplace unsure. 

“It would be if I never finished school.” 

“What ya majoring in?” You’re hesitant to say for the possible doubt he’ll display. You dance around the answer. 

“Promise you won’t laugh.” His expression contorts to confusion. “Fine...I promise.” 

“Humanitarianism.” He goes blank like a mannequin, and by the way his lip fights a flit he’s holding in his laughter as much as possible. 

“Forget it-” 

“I didn’t laugh. What ya gonna do with your degree?” 

“I want to help people.”   

He folds his arms over his chest, “But you don’t wanna help me?” 

“N-not that kind of help. Like, housing help, financial help. No one should have to work as hard as you...” 

“So, you wanna help old broke runaways like me, huh?” 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I mean it’s admirable, darlin’, but I work here cause I want to. ’S a good gig, takes the mind off o’ things.”  

Your mouth moves before your brain, “...What things?” 

“Thought you weren’t gonna ask me shit like that anymore.” 

“My bad.” 

“I’ll give you what you want.” He locks the gate to the stable. Your blood feels hotter when he’s fixed on you.  

“Y’know...the thing about foster care is you’re never guaranteed a good home, or even a home at all.” Toji simpers out of place, out of tune like a broken piano. “I was one of the lucky few that got sent home to home. Got attached just to get thrown back in the same shithole with the other rejects. It hurt at first, but after a while you get so used to the feeling that you’re not wanted or needed. And when a foster kid grows out of the system and they throw your ass on the street, gotta get it however you can.”  Though he tells it like the casual reminiscence of childhood, you know better than that. 

“So, I taught myself to survive, no matter the cost and regardless of who it hurt. I’ve done some irredeemable shit. Held people at gunpoint, beat them up for money, stole their valuables, all the shit they worked hard for.”   

“I fought for food, shelter. Hell, anything I could get my hands on. I never killed anyone but damn sure got close, all for an overnight motel stay and sometimes a couple cigs.”  He ambles to you and you automatically back up. Your space is squeezed to capacity, and whenever you get a portion of relief, he seals it. You take a step; he takes one more. 

“You wanted to know how I got this, right?” He taps the corner of his mouth where the scar is. 

“I entered a fighting ring for money, the kind that trades boxing gloves for knives. And boy, was I desperate. He chucked that blade at my mouth and I crushed his throat, sliced him across the eyes. I bled for a while but it kept me full for a few days.” Your back hits the door and he cages you.  

“‘Ventually the wanted flyers started coming out. Thought about turning myself in, but what kind of asshole admits to his crimes? So, I kept running, running from everything. I can’t remember how long I went for. But then I ended up here.”   

Rain pelts the roof. You remind yourself to inhale and exhale. It’s a conscious thought, in and out, processing the secrets revealed. There’s nowhere to hide, yet you don’t feel unease—solely the faint pang of sorrow. Toji appears warm under the rich glimmer. The rugged contours meld to his lowered gaze, lips twisted in a frown you hardly recognize. He looks entirely different, disconnected from your quarrels. To you this feels like it should be an attempt at intimidation, but the way he's boxing you in screams loose and unsteady. A wounded beast bearing its fangs as a defense mechanism. His arms are corded in muscle and riddled with injuries, likely from the upsets, days of begging for food, wondering when his next meal will be or if he just consumed his last, where he will go to survive, how he will survive.   

“Are you scared now?”  

He’s a vagrant. He lived on the fringes of society, avoiding the law and committing horrific acts for his own benefit. He hurt people. Who’s to say he wouldn’t hurt you next? Annie was right. Toji is right. You need to be afraid.  

Instantly, his little quirks made sense. The barriers he built and his hesitation to speak, forbearing and tolerant in spite of the bruises. He was afraid of being thrown away again, to be the same teen casted to the streets—proven useless. 

You’re inches away. It’s unsaid, begging you to repel him. There’s no rationale in your actions.  

You stand on your toes and catch his lips in a kiss.  

Brief, charged with the comfort that got lost on your tongue. His lips requite yours and leave traces of bourbon. You didn’t know he drank. It’s so brief you linger in the aftermath of heat, hoping you can satiate your interest with two, maybe three more kisses. 

Your noses graze each other. His half-lidded eyes captivate you, freezing you in time, to plinking mist and airy touches, yearning on the brink of impulse. He hovers over your lips, shuddering on the expel. Then he withdraws. 

“Ya have no sense of danger.” 

You can’t think straight, haven’t been able to for some time now. “You’re not scary. Just annoying.”  

“...I'm glad.” 

He grabs his sherpa lined jacket off a haybale and wraps it around your torso. It’s far too big and pieces of hay poke your lower back. He pulls the hood over, “This should be good. C’mon, let’s get ya back in the house.” Toji opens the stable doors. Tiny droplets percolate at your frigid feet, and you stick your head out. 

Fog clings to the edge of the horizon. The storm ended, and the land washed anew.  

“Ouch.”  

“Careful, hun.” 

The sewing needle pricks your thumb from the other side of the glove again and you flinch, though you probably have tons of holes in your skin at the moment. You’re by no means the best at sewing, but it’s not like Toji could do any better based on the tears in the leather. You’re curled like a shrimp on the dining chair, weaving the needle through a heavy-duty fabric you found in the sewing basket Annie gave you. Floral pin cushions, yarn, thread, and bunches of fabric are splayed across the gingham table.  

It’s likely Toji would’ve slaved it to the bone and never ask for another pair, so when you got to your room and found them in the jacket pocket you felt inclined to assist. Plus, it’s a good distraction from the half-embarrassment half-shock you grieved from your boldness the other day.  

A draft pierces the chiffon curtains. It’s getting colder and the final day of your vacation has arrived, both short and torturously long. You think about the things that passed the time, the person that shortened your days to summertime laughter and mischief. Before the farm, you would’ve relished in a going away party with a performer and glittering spotlight. Yet, as cattle moo and land are tilled for the upcoming season, the profoundness of being ordinary is more pleasant than the former. 

You pull the last thread through the patch and admire your amateur mend, navy fabric accented amongst the mahogany leather. Vanilla and lemon permeate the house while a bundt cake rises in the oven. 

Annie hands you a few stationery notecards smudged with flour fingerprints. “Write somethin’ nice for ‘em. Don’t think they’ll be able to say goodbye before you go. ‘S gettin’ busier and busier nowadays.” You nod and start writing messages of appreciation for Lionel and Terrace, thanking them for putting up with your cluelessness.  

“Should I write one for you, too?” 

“You can jus’ tell me now” she beams. 

“Well, Annie, thank you for everything—for showing me around, cooking for everyone, making sure we’re all healthy and full. Most of all, thanks for treating me like family.” 

She tussles your hair, “You’ll always be family, honeybun.” 

Hooves on stone trot near the house and your heart skips a beat. You walk to the screen door and see Marie’s long mane, then Toji holding the reins. He looks like a true cowboy, double stitched western belt with a taut plaid flannel and chestnut cowboy hat to match his boots. You open the door and lean on the porch column. 

“Wanna go for a ride?” he calls. 

“Usually, guys say that when they have an expensive car.” 

“Well, this here’s an expensive horse. That good enough for ya?” 

“...I guess it’ll have to do” you say, continuing to Marie with a delicate caress on her neck. 

He holds his hand out, “Up.” 

“To where?” 

“Stop askin’ so many questions.” You roll your eyes and grab his wrist. He abruptly hauls your body weight over Marie and you squeak. It's higher than you thought and you struggle to adjust your legs in the right position on the saddle. 

“Might wanna hold on.”  

You scoff, “I can handle myself.” As soon as you say that, Marie breaks into a sprint. You would’ve flown off the mare if not for your flailing arms finding safety around Toji’s waist. “You did that on purpose, you ass!” you scream.  

“I have no idea what ya talkin’ ‘bout.” You can hear the smile when he says that.  

Hammered dirt belches behind as you leave a thick forest similar to the one you drove through for your arrival. It’s a scene from a storybook, carving through a colorful meadow bursting with wildflowers. They teeter in the headwind and so do you, hair whipping onto your face from the speed. The canopy that once enveloped you becomes a faint, fading outline against the sky and bushes shrink to specks. The landscape melts like an impressionism painting. 

Toji has expert control over the mare and his stature stands tall in spite of haste. You scale the hills, appreciating the natural foundation carving willowy trees, the miles of foliage, the cattails in a small sparkling river etched in a meandering bank. Birds sing their evening songs, and an animal rustles through the grass. Eventually you pause at the summit, immersed in a vast, unspoiled scenery stretching infinitely. Toji hasn’t said much, but neither do you.  

“I thought you’d wanna see this” he mutters. 

“How come?” 

“When ya weren’t working, you’d just climb to the hilltops and... stare. Never knew what you were staring at, but I assumed it was the view.” 

“You don’t see stuff like this in the city. It’s so peaceful here.” 

“It never gets old.” You look at him, corners of his mouth mellow. You recall the way they felt and butterflies involuntarily bloom from a deep pit in your stomach. 

You yank the hat from his head and try it on. “Hey, give it here.” You duck his grasp and push it down.  

“It looks cute on me.” 

“So what?” 

“You don’t think it matches my shoes?” 

“I think you’re a brat.”  

“Hmm” you say, feigning contemplation. “You should know, women don’t like angry old men. It’s so uncute.” 

  “Heh, really. I’m uncute?” he laughs. “Yeah, among a few other things.” 

“Well I’m sorry, princess, but you’re a real pain in the ass too.” 

“The feeling’s mutual” you retort. 

“...Is it?” You don’t have a remark for that. The sun recedes into the horizon, radiating burnt orange and red. He uses the reigns to guide Marie back in the direction of the farm. “I’ll miss the countryside.” The brim of his hat dips over your eyes and you don't correct yourself when you lean to his back, calmed from the rocking sway.  

Toji pulls the reigns at the stairs and gets off. You impassively accept his aid as he  

 scoops and sets you down.  

The buzzing porch light attracts moths with its fluorescence. Amidst the prolonged awkward silence and clumsy gestures, you’re searching for your soul’s response like Annie mentioned. Whenever you tried, the message got tangled on your tongue. Given another chance, it eludes you again. 

“I guess this is it.” 

“Yup” he agrees. 

“Try not to miss me too much.”  

He smirks, “I’ll do my best. Goodnight, little miss.” 

He left and it’s time for you to get some sleep. But you can’t. You’re wide awake, glued to the ceiling thinking about him like your life depends on it. Maybe the instigator in you was waiting for confrontation, or the truth hurts more than you thought it would. You sit up like you’re expecting something, like you just lost a long-fought battle. You need the last word.  

It’s a quaint home with tawny wood accents. Jacket and gloves in tow, you can’t formulate a single justifiable reason for being at his front door. You lie and tell yourself it’s to return his possessions, as if you ever cared, like his hat isn’t resting on your dresser. You knock twice. 

Toji unlocks the door wearing nothing but his jeans, hair shaggier than usual. “Look who’s here” he says, a tinge of shock and something sweeter. You shove the items to him. “Your jacket, and uh…your gloves were bad, so I sewed them up. Try to take better care of your things.” He slings it to the side. 

“Heh. Yes, ma’am.” 

“So…um.” 

“Is that all you’re here for?” Not in the slightest. You’re here to get something off your chest, right? You’re not even sure what you’re mad about anymore. 

“Y-yeah.” 

“Alright then, see ya in the mornin’.” The door slowly winds closed, but you interrupt, “Were you trying to insinuate something?”  

It stops and he cracks it further, smile growing. “Not tryin’ to insinuate anything I haven’t noticed already” 

You’re burning under his gaze. “Wha…I swear, your ego is insane. You should be grateful I’ve been so nice-“ 

“Your eyes tend to…” he regards you from head to toe, “…roam. You’re not as subtle as you think.” 

“Like I wanna look at you.” 

“I wouldn’t mind if ya did.” 

“God, you’re so far up your own-“ 

“You haven’t left yet.” His relaxed demeanor aggravates you, as if he's fully aware of why you’re here. He edges closer, chest inches away from yours, voice slow and gravelly in the dead of night. 

“There’s somethin’ you want, right? Ask for it.”  

Your pulse travels to your ears. Longing teetering on the cusp of fire. 

“Fuck this.” You turn to leave, when suddenly your arm gets snatched back and pulled into the room. The door shuts and you’re flung against it, though there’s no room to move when Toji’s pressed chest-to-chest. His breathing heaves, and you can feel it rising and falling laden with yours as he’s loomed over you. 

“What’s with the sass, huh?” he chides. His grip is bruising, but the small victory of a sinking composure sends a chill up your spine you’d rather not think about. 

“You started it, don’t act so innocent now.” You can tell he’s physically holding back, the shakiness in his little breaths becoming more evident. The wild blaze in his eyes eats you up with greed. 

“You really need to be taught some fucking manners.” 

“You’re gonna punish me?” You’re both at a whisper, too scared to speak the words you’ve been keeping to yourselves. 

“I wanna do so much worse.” 

“Then do it.” 

He holds your neck in place and you succumb to raw and unrestrained fervor. Rough, uncoordinated kisses being dragged over the expanse of your lips and you’re hardly able to maintain the pace. Your free hand curls through his tresses and pushes him deeper into you. He groans through those rushed, bruising kisses reddening your lips and immediately hunts for more.  

You didn’t expect Toji to be a gentle lover by any means, but it’s the way his mouth never leaves yours, a certain thirst that can’t be satiated no matter how much he drinks. You bite his bottom lip, teeth collide and he repeats the feast all over again. You can’t tell if he’s trying to savor it or devour you in one go.  

His hands snake from your neck to the fat of your ass, and he delivers a quick smack before hoisting you around his waist. Trails of spit connect where you part for air, but he swiftly chases it with tongue, pushing into your mouth and clouding your head. You intertwine, wet and feverish as it explores your mouth.  

He’s ruthlessly scouring fulfillment, drunk off the pleasure he finds in swallowing your moans and traversing your numbing lips. You’re sweating, hot in all the right places, and you return the favor with similar passion. Your lower back aches but he doesn’t give any inclination that he’ll let up soon, grinding on the delicate, sticky lace of your panties exposed from your hiked up dress.  

“Fuck, I can feel it through your clothes” he groans, lazily undulating his hips.  

“S-shut up- ah!” Your stammering gets caught in a moan when the fabric presses against your clit just right. He wears a sleazy grin, moving slower to coax the barely audible whimper that escaped you a moment ago. “I wouldn’t mind if ya made a little noise” he husks. You’re shaky, trying to compose your trembling vocals threatening to call his name. In regular circumstances, you would’ve let yourself have it. But this is Toji, and the mischievous urge you reserve for him wants to shoot down his boosted ego. 

“Maybe you’re not doing good enough.”  

“Really...” Toji’s huffs a humorless laugh, and you have half the mind to acknowledge that you just fucked up. He enriches the kiss and movements get a little angrier, bulge rutting into you furiously.  

“Then I’ll make it so good for ya, darlin’” he rasps, “So good you’ll hafta beg me.” 

It’s impossibly big, and sliding against the aching mess restrained in his pants doesn’t quell your concerns. You swear you can feel the dim thump thump thump through it. 

You unlatch again, severing a trail of spit when you briefly make eye contact. They’re crazed, far and near at the same time and somehow sparkling the prettiest shade of hazel green. He immediately claims space on your neck. Sucking and biting, feral groaning between your pulse point that drums whenever his appendage glides along a sweet spot. His teeth graze harsh against your skin and you can feel purple and blue burgeoning like watercolor splotches on an untouched canvas.  

And he must be long gone, pinning you between the door and his haughty strength, spit glistening on your neck. You’re using whatever pride you have left to clamp your mouth shut, though it’s obvious to Toji as his lips curl when your breath stutters. He detaches with a wet smack, and you can't angle away from the onslaught of tender kisses along the underside of your jaw.  

He lifts you across the room, to the edge of his wooden platform bed draped in a deer pattern quilt. Your knees are wobbly on the descent and it hits when your feet touch the ground, almost slumping onto the mattress. Before you can, he grabs a fistful of hair at the back of your head and holds you upright. 

“Stand straight” he barks, dangerously commanding. In one fell swoop, using one hand, he flips the buckle on his belt open and yanks it out the loops. His pants sag at his hips and the tent peaks with more room. He wraps the leather around your wrists and ties it over itself, securing tight—maybe too tight—at the end.  

“On your fucking knees.” You don’t drop on the first order.  

“Make me.” Typical—but he’s happy to guide you. He tugs your hair to the ground, and you thud onto the hardwood floors by your knees.  

You knew Toji was hot, stealing glances of his shirtless torso plowing in the summer rays—but God, he truly is alluring. Straight below him you get the best view of the veins winding down his lower abdomen, the planes of his abs shining in the already low light. Underneath his pecs, full chest pulling taut with yearning, unruly need. In no time he unzips his fly and kicks his pants at his ankles, revealing firm boxer briefs and a dripping, milky stain trailing to the side. Your eyes follow, where his throbbing cockhead peaks out, rosy brown with pearls of greedy precome dribbling down. You can’t resist staring, devouring the sight and adding onto the stickiness coating your inner thighs. You lean in and pepper a few kisses on his tip. He hisses. 

“Are you losing your composure?” you ask, reveling in his twitching abs. He grins, and you return the same, “Not yet. You’ll know when I do. I promise.”  

You lick a long, mouthwatering stripe on it and he rasps a groan. He’s quick to snatch your scalp and tilt up, forcing you to gaze at him. “Look at me. Don’t take your eyes off me.” They appear darker, drunken. 

He tugs the boxers down and his cock springs out centimeters from your face, glistening and flushed. He taps it on your lip and smears the sheen. You don’t break eye contact as required, especially when you lick your bottom lip to taste him. 

 “Fuck, such a slut.” He prods at your mouth and you gladly open, closing your puckered lips around the bulbous tip. “Nice and open for me” he mutters. It’s partly a mutter, resembling a hoarse ramble as he slides the length of his veiny, thrumming cock past your cheek fat constricting around him.  

“Yeah, t-that’s it—fuck—just like that.” Your eyes water and beaded tears gather at your lashes, but he craves the back of your throat—he’ll make it fit if he needs to. You’re adjusting to his size, forcing yourself to accommodate him and hollowing your cheeks as best as you can, fulfilling a twisted desire to satisfy him. Your palate scraping his sensitive tip elicits a deep, gravelly moan that sends vibrations straight to your clit.  

“Mm, that pretty mouth taking it so well f’me.” You open your throat and allow him to push further, swelling a noticeable bulge through your skin. He’s straining your mouth to capacity, and it’s only when your nose meets his pubes and his balls are flush with you that you try breathing.  

It’s no use with his cock barreling down your throat. He keeps a firm grip on the back of your head, watching your body retch at the size of him for amusement. Then he pulls out and you dry heave from the sudden influx of normal air in your lungs. You’re soaked all the way through, hazy, hurting, but desperate for more. Too horny to remember your pride. What even is pride when you can’t tell the difference between drool and tears? 

You’re French kissing his dick as if he’s not there, slobbering and licking it up, rolling your tongue over his frenulum like an animal in heat. Shame will overcome you by morning; in the meantime, you’ll indulge, drain him so that he can’t fathom speaking the word “brat” again. You loll your tongue and he smiles. 

“I didn’t even fuck you yet and you’re already this bad?” He’s one to talk when his comebacks crack at the back of his throat, muscles sweaty and tense from your ministrations. “I’m a good man, so I’ll help ya out.”  

Without warning, he drives himself all the way down your throat. You gag, but he’s relentless. He has hands on both sides of your head and he puts his foot on the edge of the bed, angling himself to probe deeper in your throat. Laden balls slap your chin and an amalgam of sloshing and gagging bubbles from the inundated scene in your mouth. Obscene noises cloud your ears. You can only lean on the support of the bed and take every brutal, solid thrust. His groans accelerate, “You’re—hngh—droolin a little bit, huh, princess. Haah—is it t'much for you, hm? T-tell me baby, fuck.” 

It really is. It’s so intense; eyeliner smudged across your face, tears shimmering, drool coating your puffy lips and his cock rubbing your voice raw. He uses you like a fleshlight and your panties are soaked through. The twitching gets more apparent and he channels a string of curses as his hips lose coordination. “On your f-face or—ungh, your mouth. Choose darlin'.”  You respond by staying still, looking at him with what little eyesight you have through cloudy tears.  

“Such a pretty comeslut” he moans, “Don’t be wasteful—hah-ah—you’re gonna be soo fucking good and swallow it all, okay?” He might as well be rambling to himself, mouthing off on questions you couldn’t possibly answer. His bangs stick to his forehead, and he emits an endless measure of moans and curses at the precipice. Hips stuttering, legs quivering sporadically, “(Y/N), m’coming, coming—ugh, fuck—oh fuck.”  

You see the exact moment he disregards ego; head lulled back, lip sagging open while he chases the high. Guttural groans meander in the space, and he pumps enough come from his spit-soaked balls to coat your throat. You wince and fresh tears are stirred from the sheer amount you’re gulping. He lags and finally relaxes, twitching sensitively when you swallow with his half-hard length still inside. Then he shudders once more when he retreats. 

Toji leans down to kiss you, wrapping tongue over tongue. You’d hope the kisses soothe your chafed throat, but to no avail. It’s not ideal that there’s a tingle in your knees, and the same position made your legs go numb. Your wrists burn as well, diagonal lines creasing your skin around the leather. Luckily, Toji scoops you and sets you rather gently on the mattress. That’s the extent of his kindness, however, as he begins shredding the straps from your dress. They snap with a pop, the sound of money going down the drain. The luxurious silk is torn from you and you’re indifferent. There’s an unquenchable need for him—everywhere, under you, inside you, however you can achieve closeness. “I need you. Now” he grunts. 

He manhandles you on your stomach with your ass raised in the air. Cool wind brushes against the pounding fever between your legs, and the sopping lace hangs by a thread.  

“Shit, you’re wet.” It’s obvious from the outside, drenched fabric a shade darker, fused uncomfortably to your pulsing pussy and reflecting on your plush thighs. He won’t take his eyes off it; he stares like he can eat through them. He peels the fabric back painfully slow, watching it furl into itself. “These just get ‘n the way.” Some slick leaves with it and slides down his hand, then he absorbs the main course. 

Glistening, syrupy fluid blankets your pussy and forms cobwebs of mess around your inner thighs and taint. You’re so wet it’s uncomfortable, and you shift around on your knees trying to quell the inescapable throbbing in your clit. He spreads your cheeks apart, practically salivating, “Look at ya.”  

Your windpipe was ripped from you, but you can scarcely hoarse “Stop staring.” His hot laughter sends shivers through you, but he holds you still before you can move forward. “Aww, too wet for your own good?” 

“Must be so sensitive” he coos, veiled in feigned concern. The pad of his thumb hovers, damn near salivating. “Tell me where it hurts, darlin’.” He flicks gently over the bud and you flinch. “Here?” 

He rubs calculated, unhurried circles on it. It doesn’t suffice—it couldn’t, because each time you lean to his touch, he recedes just a little. Because of course he wouldn't let you satisfy your desires without paying first. It’s maddening to almost get what you want and fall short repeatedly. You whimper pathetically, and he teases, “I know, darlin’, I know.”   

“Hurry up already” you whine. He quickly lands a stern, stinging swat to your ass and you recoil. “No attitude. Had enough’a that.” 

He positions two fingers at your glossy entrance, “Want help? Show me how bad ya want it.” You should’ve told him to go fuck himself, or at least you would have if you weren’t trembling with carnal hunger. You turn back to him glassy-eyed and he smiles—sympathy won’t work here. So you slope over his waiting fingers and glide them inside. They’re thicker than you thought they’d be. A delicious burn around the ring of your cunt from your walls stretching, it takes some adapting to get used to it.  

Once you do, though, you’re bouncing on them knuckle-deep, coating his palm in juices sluicing down his wrist. He doesn’t move an inch, but he drags his digits in a ‘come hither’ motion that sends tiny sparks bursting through your body. The notion of fucking yourself on his fingers should’ve been obscene, but you can feel yourself climbing to the edge. You’re panting, wiggling your hips with buzzing stars in your vision at the way it scrapes and kneads your walls. “You can’t hate me that much. Suckin’ me up and I’m not even movin’” he taunts. 

You don’t realize how loud you’re moaning, how your pussy talks louder than you do, sloppily sliding and squelching. “Fuck—you’re so messy. Where’s your resolve, huh? Nothing mean to say?”  

“Hah-ah” You clench rapidly, heartbeat in your ears. Until your stuttering heart and legs get worse, and you’re losing momentum. Your muscles burn from the inside out like a tiring workout, and you can’t keep up the pace that would’ve attained ecstasy. Just like that, it’s ripped away from you. 

And you cry. 

Hot, frustrated tears spill down your cheeks and you stop moving. He removes his wrinkled fingers. One side of the mattress sinks near you, and he thumbs the tears from your blushed cheeks and nose, your dazed lashes and pouty lips. “S’okay.” He pecks the corner of your eye, prompting a tear he samples. “Done fightin’ me?” 

You nod absentmindedly. “What do you want?” It’s simple, but you make eye contact with him. Jaw clenched, huffing as if he’s battling his own assurance. Your eyes water again. “Please...” 

You can’t read his face, but he leaves the mattress. It’s eerily quiet.  

“Y’know just how to get me.”  

A shattered gasp dies in your throat when you feel a warm, cruel stripe from your clit to your taint. Once, twice, his broken puffs fanning the flames. Both hands spread your legs wider and he nuzzles your folds, placing open-mouthed kisses, savoring your arousal. Then he immerses himself.  

He put up a good farce for a while, but the crumbling began at his desperate, tangled tongue—ravenous and starving, he ate you like a decadent main course he’d never taste again. He was starved—slurping and sucking, releasing with a juicy smack and diving back in. He’s on his knees, grunting low at your drooling slit. He didn’t care about your quivering thighs, honeyed liquid building in layers on his chin, the weak cries you managed. None of it mattered. Because you—you were heady and sweet, and as he drowned in your scent, he wished to be breathless forever.  

“S’fuckin’ good—oh, fuck, make a mess on my face.” He swats your ass, pointed tongue massaging your clit while he gropes the doughy flesh. It’s pliable in his hands and it gives him something to anchor while he drawls lecherous swipes over your swollen gooeyness. “Ngh—p-please—close-” Your stomach turns knot after knot, damp with sweat and sensing a rapid euphoria surging all too fast. Your mistake for announcing it, because he focuses his attention on a self-indulgent make-out session with your clit. “Come. Come on my face, princess—” You start to spasm, and the vulgar noises coming from Toji disperse in your ears. 

“Toji” you moan, and sooner fall apart in his arms. White-hot pleasure courses through your convulsing cunt and a chain of violent aftershocks render you silent. What makes you even shakier, though, is that he doesn't stop. 

He cleans his plate, imbibing the perfumed essence gushing from you. He peppers kisses around your contractions, deaf to your croaked sobs. If you weren’t bound, you’d push his head away. You attempt to use your foot to nudge him off, but you didn’t expect to make a dent in someone his size. He intertwines his hands with your sweaty ones, calm thumb swaying back and forth; it would be comforting if he wasn’t ruining you at the moment.  

The intensity of his deliberate tongue only makes the aftershocks worse, and your hands start to jolt as you cry out, “Ahn--no more, p-please!” You feel his smile on your folds and he persists. His lapping gets more aggressive and so do your tremors, loud and unrestrained moans torn from you.  

He finally unlatches, landing a final smack on your puffy pussy. Your heads swimming in an infectious trance, but you’re undeserving of a break as you whirl behind you and see him pumping his flushed cock. It stands at attention and even seems bigger than before, colored deep with need pearling at the divot. 

“Need you or ’m gonna go crazy.” Toji keeps a firm hand at the base of your spine—it arches your back and shoves your words into the bed. He drags his bulbous head along your sensitive cunt, collecting the slick trickling onto the damp sheets before rimming the slit. A hint of fatigue crosses your face and he takes notice. “Heh, done already? We haven’t even started yet.” 

The image of him entering you for the first time burns into your memory; his brows are knitted, bottom lip tucked under teeth and his breath hitches. If you were fucked out, he was getting there. He presses into your spine like he’s trying to prevent himself from coming on the spot, paused but lingering. Tunnel visioned on your soaked, bulging pussy stretching around him, snuggling his leaden length like a heated blanket. And you drink in the pain, a dulcet blaze engulfing you as sore muscles clench and unclench.  

“You’ve been quiet, pretty thing” he muses, “Where’s your resolve, huh? Nothin’ mean to say?” With his veins adorning your walls and your mushy brain bouncing around in your head, you can’t bring yourself to talk shit. He pulls out completely, watching a mix of precome and wetness connect your bodies. 

Suddenly, he bottoms out. “Ahn--fu-ah!” It shreds a whimper from you and he mocks your cracking moans, though he seems to be breaking, himself. The sharp snap of his hips contacts skin-on-skin, earning each sloppy slap echoing in the room. His lips are parted, swamped in infinite, unbridled lust. The carnal itch he’d been holding off on for weeks seeps through, satiating his most indulgent appetite. “O-oh, God, shit, look at the m-mess you’re making.” He drives out to his frenulum and shoves it back in with no mercy, no sign of slowing down. Long, deep strokes leaving you slack jawed and teary. Every drag of his dick imprints his name on your tongue, heavy balls smacking your tender clit.  

“You hear that? Listen.” He goes quiet, to let the indecent plap plap plap’s resound. Your cheeks turn hot from humiliation. The side rail of the bed screeches the hardwood floors, and the belt buckle you’re secured to clicks occasionally.  

“You’re my filthy slut” he grins, striking your rouged cheek. He’s rough, but you weren’t searching for friendliness, neither of you did. At your core, you knew it—Toji bullying himself into your cervix is a poison you’d drink habitually. A poison so incredibly captivating, you’re burning just to feel his crowning ardor. 

He’s sandwiched between your swollen lips and he can’t get enough, virtually drunk from it. He winds another branding swat on your backside, then the other. The crackling fire of his hand thwacking delicate flesh merges pleasure with pain. “You've been such a brat all summer” he taunts, “Needed me to put you in your place, huh, you fucking slut?” Another mean swat, and he laughs crudely at you little gasp. “You like this shit, don’t you? Wanna be manhandled like a fucking whore.” Both cheeks are a severe fiery color, beginning to welt, but he resumes. And you’re drenching him. A creamy, gooey ring forming at the base of his dick, tracing translucent strings when he pummels your poor leaking pussy. 

“M’sorry, so s-sorry” you babble. Apologizing for what? You don’t know, but the delirium spills truths you should’ve voiced ages ago. You're utterly incoherent; you might as well stay silent. “Aww, I know” he cloys, soft and sultry compared to the angry strokes he’s delivering. Shockwaves burst and fizzle on your clit and you flutter around him. Your ass ripples against him, hoarse voice funneling strings of curses, scrotum pummeling your overworked bundle of nerves. You want to come so bad it hurts, and you find yourself arching a little harder, spreading your legs a little wider—just begging him to use you entirely, to melt, become his. 

“Pleasepleaseplease” you whimper, at the height of your intensity. Then sweltering, frenetic spasms suffocate Toji’s shaft as you ride the orgasm seemingly crashing into you. You shudder violently, pleading with your body to attain some level of poise. It has other plans, however, provoking you to flitting tears from dragged-out, toe-curling tremors. You grip him like a vice and he struggles to pull out, but when does he’s rubbing circles on your aching nub. You’re lost in a bottomless sensation, but you hear his voice in your dampened ears, “Mm, I got ya.” 

The pressure on your wrists lessens, and you realize you can move them freely. Your arms are numb returning to a normal position, and you support yourself on your feeble elbows when you feel your legs being parted again. In the fleeting instant you’re allowed to settle, the vast trail of his tongue laps at your shuddery cunt. "P-please wait—ngh, I can’t-” you wail, and you turn to the commotion to see Toji, growling and devouring your silken arousal.  

He’s absolutely corrupted, a feral glint in his blearily blinking eyes, chest heaving salaciously as he kneads your thighs. You paw at his hair, toiling to crawl away from his unsparing mouth but he follows. He releases you and you inch away from him. “Where ya goin’? Heh, tryna run?” he teases. You don’t get very far, because he grapples your waist and pulls you back. “Not done ‘till I say it’s done.”  

Then he’s climbing on the bed with you, and you can do nothing but snivel in protest as he maneuvers you to hike your leg over his. He lays on his side, locking you in his embrace and smears his cock between your puffy folds. “Am I being mean to you?”, he slides in with ease, savoring the sweet mess spewing on cue, “’M sorry, I’m just an ‘angry old man’, after all.”  

He pounds your chubby cunt with wild abandon. You feel each vast stroke pummeling your tumid core, squelching amidst your languid bodies. You can’t close your legs—as badly as you want to—and you’re forced to endure frantic twitching from your lit nerves. He strips your breasts of the flimsy lace bra and alternates among pinching your nipple and molding the valley to his palms. He twists it harsh and you muster a pathetic babble, to which he laughs—mocking and unhinged, “My poor baby, you can’t handle it anymore.”  

Anymore was an understatement, it was overwhelming—to a degree that you’d gone quiet, enveloped in vehemence. You're scratching up his bicep with the other tangled in the sheets, knuckles turned white and your head thrown back. You want to push him off, but you’re milking his stuttering hips, drawing him closer. It isn’t enough and it’s too much. “F-fuck, it’s so swollen” he moves from your chest to your vulva, “I can touch right? Y-yea, you don’t mind.” His intoxicating voice is at a whisper in your ear, laying like liquor in your cotton-filled mind. With his cock dragging against your walls and hammering your g-spot, mercilessly circling his pads on your clit, eliciting every short “ah, ah” from your swollen lips, you’re far from combative.  

He precisely rolls his hips and it’s unbearably hot, broken mewls fleeing you. Your mouth sags, drool shameless down your mouth as he kisses your cervix without trying. He wraps his hand around your throat, boring into your teary eyes. You can’t escape his overbearing presence, isolated from everything besides his eye contact. He is everything.  

“Who’s pussy is this?” He gradually squeezes tighter and you pule in response. Since that didn’t work, he accentuates the words with every tantalizing thrust: 

“Who’s” 

“Pussy” 

“Is this?” 

You narrowly choke out, “Your pussy”, and like something snapped his rhythm get faster, nastier. The asphyxiation reaches you brain and floods you, aswoon on a pillowy cloud. He’s faltering, pumps getting sloppier, “Thaaat’s right, ‘nd I’ll use this pretty pussy whenever I need.” His stomach flinches but he doesn’t stop chasing that high, eyes thoroughly glassed, “’N you’re gonna be a good girl and take it—ha, f-fuck—be a good girl, o-okay?” Your pupils retreat to the back of your head, and you arch off the bed as your body begins to tremble. He’s glued to you, “One more, let it out f’me. Please, fuck, I need it—hah—need you to come on my dick—”  

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, and you unravel. A stream of liquid coats the blanket and you’re speechless as you convulse uncontrollably, legs betraying you for strong spasms. You go limp but Toji props you up, bucking his hips when his own legs start to jolt. “That’s a good girl—Ohh yes. Y-you're so good f'me, princess. Coming—hahh—gonna come all over your pretty cunt—”  

His balls tighten, and he manages some slushy, vile pumps before he pulls out. He spurts all over your tummy and hypersensitive vulva, painting it in thick white layers. He persists, groaning until he’s fully hollow, emptying his sack in globs. His staggering pants and shaking reduce to hitching, and he relaxes your exhausted weight. You weep softly, clinging to him as he presses selfish kisses from your lips to your wet lashes. He caresses your cheek, sweaty and disheveled in the dim light. Then your eyesight starts to blur. 

Your sight peels back, permitting warm sunlight basked over the bed. It takes a split second to notice you’re resting on pillows not nearly as comfortable as yours, and the wood paneling was uncharacteristic of your assigned room. It takes another second to notice your galled throat, stinging backside, and the arm loose on your naked waist. You peer over your shoulder, to that mop of ink sprawled on the pillow. He looks peaceful, though you’re not sure how you slept soundly when he snores like a brute. 

You slip from his arms to sit up. The floor’s freezing, but by the time you get to stand you’re pulled back into the covers. Entangled in limbs, you gaze at Toji, who still has his eyes closed. His face appears softened up close. There’s a small scar near his hairline that you hadn’t spotted. You trace the scar, outlining it to the one on his lip. He nips your finger. 

“I wanna sleep” he grumbles. 

“Then you should’ve let me leave” 

“No.” You card your fingers through his hair, and he sighs into it. A fine gray strand peaks out amongst the rest. “You’re turning gray, old man.” 

“The way I had you last night, I wouldn’t say ‘old man’.” Your remembrance makes your ears hot and you clasp a hand over his mouth. He laughs and pecks it, “You’re leaving today. Let’s get you packed up” he muffles. 

Little did he know, you’d talk to your father that afternoon, asking to stay for a couple more months. The countryside welcomed you—and what a humbling experience it was. 

© mooishbeam - please don't steal, copy, or post my work to other platforms :)

[itneverendshere]

the first relapse being the most scariest thing you’ve seen. sarah’s even calling you about him like “dads trying to get his doctor on the line just in case he od’s”

added this to what i'd already summarized in this ask!! hope everyone enjoys the angst 😔🫂 it’s a little long (around 7.1k)

death by a thousand cuts - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: substance abuse.

Ward’s sitting at the dining table, barely glancing up from his phone when Rafe walks in. His jaw clenches. That look—so cold, so dismissive—always sets something off in him.

“What’s wrong?” Rafe asks, already knowing this isn’t just a normal night.

Ward doesn’t answer right away, just sighs like Rafe being here is another weight on his shoulders. “Your mother called today.”

Rafe freezes.

He doesn’t have to ask which mother. Ward’s new wife has nothing to do with this. His real mom. The one who left.

He tries to stay calm, but he can feel his blood pumping, “What’d she want?”

“She says she wants to see you. You and your sisters.”

Rafe’s eyes narrow, his heart pounding harder now. The audacity of it. She always did this—popped back in when it was convenient for her, like they were just part of her life she could pick up and drop whenever she felt like it.

When was the last time? A couple of years? Before that? It doesn’t matter.

“No. I’m not doing this again.” 

“Rafe—”

“No, I said no.” The anger wells up fast, a familiar burn in his chest. He stands there, fists clenched. “She’s full of shit, dad. She doesn't give a fuck about us. So, no. I’m not seeing her.”

Ward looks up, calm as ever, but there's that edge in his eyes—the one that always makes Rafe feel like a little kid who’s stepped out of line. “You’re overreacting. She’s still your mother.”

“My mother?” He lets out a bitter laugh, but there’s no humor in it. His fists tighten at his sides. “She left. She fucking left us. She’s not my mother. She’s just some lady who couldn’t handle shit.”

Ward stands up now. “Watch your mouth.”

“Watch my mouth?” Rafe barks back, stepping forward, his anger boiling over. “I watched her leave me every time she got bored or freaked out. And you—you didn’t do shit!.You just let it happen. Let her walk out over and over.”

“That’s enough, Rafe.”

But he's not done.

He’s too pissed to think straight. “What? You gonna defend her? You’re the one who let her fuck me up like this! You—”

“Stop blaming everyone else for your problems,” Ward snaps, his voice rising. "Grow up. She left.  And you’re still standing here acting like a child over it.”

Something inside Rafe cracks. His chest tightens like someone’s squeezing the air out of him. "A child? You don't get it. You never got it. She fucked me up. She fucked all of us up, and you're still acting like it's nothing." His mind is spinning, flashing back to all those nights he was too high to breathe, too strung out to care if he woke up the next day. He feels like he’s suffocating, the anger burning too fast. “I’m not doing this again, dad. I’m not.”

Ward’s gaze turns cold. “She’s trying now. That has to count for something.”

“Trying? Trying?!” Rafe grits out, stepping forward. All those years, all those broken promises, all the times he was left wondering what the hell he did wrong to make her leave—and now Ward wants him to sit down like it’s a fucking family reunion. 

“I don’t care what you think about it, Rafe. This isn’t up for discussion. You will see her, and that’s final.”

“No. No fucking way!” He shouts, his voice shaking as he steps closer to Ward, fists clenched. “You can’t make me do this. I’m not going to sit there and pretend like everything’s okay when she’s the reason I turned into the mess I was. And you—” His chest heaves as he fights to find the words, his throat tight. “You’re just as bad as she is.”

Ward’s eyes narrow dangerously, but he continues, “Every time she left, you didn’t do a goddamn thing. You let her walk all over us. You let her leave me, leave us, and you never said a word. You’re a shitty father, just as bad as her."

Ward’s face darkens, a storm brewing behind his eyes. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”

“I’ll talk to you however the hell I want,” Rafe fires back, stepping even closer, eyes blazing. “You didn’t stop her. You never protected me. You sat there and watched her fuck me up and then turned around and blamed me for it. Like I was the problem.”

“You were the problem,” Ward snaps, “She didn’t know how to handle you, and neither did I. You were a fucking disaster, Rafe. And that’s on you.”

“No. You two were and are the fucking problem because you can’t let go of her.”

Ward takes a step forward, “This isn’t about you. It’s about your sisters. Sarah wants this. Weezie deserves a chance to know her mother. It’s not all about your issues, Rafe. Grow up.”

“Grow up?” He feels like he’s suffocating, “You think I’m the one who needs to grow up? 

“Enough. You will meet her, or you can leave this house right now.”

All the work he's put in, all the shit he's tried to fix, feels like it’s slipping right through his fingers. He can’t be here. Not like this. He’s out the door before he even knows what he’s doing. That itch beneath his skin is back after years, that’s how much control his parents have over him.

Rafe’s hands are still shaking as he gets into his truck, slamming the door harder than he means to. It feels like he can’t get enough air in his lungs, and his thoughts are spinning, they’re all crashing into each other at once. The fight with his father keeps replaying in his head, louder and louder, until he can’t hear anything else.

He’s gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. His dad’s voice, cold and cutting, telling him he’s the problem. That he’s always been the problem. His hands are shaking worse now, trembling like he’s about to snap, and there’s only one thought pounding through his mind: He can’t go to you like this.

The thought of walking through your door, this messed up, makes him feel sick. You’ve seen him at his worst before, but this… this feels different. He can’t let you see him like this—not the old Rafe. Not the one who almost lost everything.

You don’t need to see that. You don’t deserve it.

He knows where he can go instead. Somewhere he shouldn’t, somewhere he swore he’d never go again. But right now, it feels like the only place that makes sense. His head’s spinning, his body buzzing with leftover adrenaline and anger, and he just needs it to stop.

So, he turns the key in the ignition and drives. It doesn’t take long to get to Barry’s. He knows the back roads by heart, even though it’s been years. He pulls up to the small shack Barry calls home, the lights still on, music thumping faintly from inside. It’s like nothing’s changed. The same rundown place, the same shitty cars parked out front, the same smell of smoke and spilled liquor lingering in the air.

Rafe sits there for a minute, gripping the steering wheel, breathing heavy. He shouldn’t be here. He knows that. 

He climbs out of the truck, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them from shaking, and heads toward the door. The second he steps inside, the familiar smell of stale beer and weed hits him like a wave, bringing back memories he thought he’d buried.

Barry’s lounging on the couch, a joint hanging from his mouth, lazily flipping through channels on the TV.

“Country Club!”, Barry drawls when he notices him, smirking around the joint. “Now this is a surprise. Didn’t think I’d ever see you walk through that door again. Thought you were all clean now, with your pretty little girlfriend.”

He tenses at the mention of you. But he can’t walk out now. Not after what just happened with Ward. Not when everything inside him feels like it’s about to blow.

“I just need something,” Rafe mutters, avoiding Barry’s eyes, already regretting this but not enough to stop.

Barry raises an eyebrow, amused. “Something, huh? You know, you’ve got a real habit of showing up here when you’re all fucked up.” He laughs, low and mocking. “What’s the matter this time? Daddy issues again?”

His jaw tightens. “Just give me what I want.”

Barry leans back, flicking ash onto the floor. “You sure you wanna go down that road again, man? Thought you were past this shit.”

“I don’t care,” Rafe snaps, his voice low, shaking with frustration and something darker. “You know what I want. Go get it.”

There’s a pause, and for a second, Barry just looks at him, sizing him up. Then, with a shrug, he gets up, disappearing into the back room. Rafe waits, heart pounding in his ears, staring at the floor, trying not to think about what he’s doing. About what this means.

Barry comes back a minute later, a small bag of coke in his hand. He tosses it onto the table in front of Rafe, “Knock yourself out.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the bag, his fingers already moving on autopilot as he pulls out his wallet and shoves a roll of cash toward Barry. He knows this is stupid, reckless. He knows this is going to hurt you, more than anything else. But ll he wants is to forget. Just for a little while.

His hands stop shaking the second he takes that first line.

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You’re already drained when you step through the front door of the house, kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag onto the couch. The sticky summer air is clinging to your skin, and all you want is a cold shower and to crash in bed. 

The day’s been dragging—work was a shitshow, and all you’ve been thinking about is Rafe. You haven’t heard from him since this morning, which isn’t weird, but there’s been this nagging feeling in your chest, like something’s off.

“Hey,” Monica calls from the kitchen as you grab a glass of water and lean against the counter. She’s scrolling through her phone, half-distracted. Milo’s at kindergarten.

“Hey,” you mumble back. “Everything alright?”

She shrugs, not looking up. “Yeah, mostly.” She pauses, frowning slightly, like she’s trying to piece something together. “I think I saw Rafe’s truck earlier. Over by Barry’s place.”

You blink, trying to process what she just said. “Barry’s?”

“Yeah, you know. The guy who used to sell—Whatever.” Monica shrugs again, more casual than you feel. “I was driving back from work, and I swear it was Rafe’s truck parked outside Barry’s house.”

Your stomach drops. Instantly.

“You’re sure?”

“Looked like his truck,” your sister says, “Thought it was weird. Figured maybe he was helping someone out or something.”

But you know better.

A cold sweat breaks out over your skin. You’ve heard Rafe talk about Barry. Back when things were bad—really bad—he was the one who kept him hooked, who kept pulling him deeper. He told you everything about those years when he was drowning in addication and Barry’s name came up more than once.

And if his truck’s outside Barry’s, you know something’s wrong.

It’s like a pit in your stomach, this gnawing feeling that’s been sitting with you all day. 

“What? Why’s that such a big deal?”

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s impossible. “Rafe doesn’t… he doesn’t go there anymore. He hasn’t in years.”

Monica frowns, finally understanding. “Oh. Shit. You think something’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, already pulling out your phone, fingers wobbly as you open your messages. You scroll through the last few texts from Rafe, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Except the silence. He’s usually better at checking in, especially when he knows you’ve had a long day. But today? Nothing.

You stare at your screen, debating if you should call him. But deep down, you already know something’s happened. He wouldn’t go to Barry’s unless things were really bad.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” your sister offers, but her voice is hesitant, like she’s not sure. “Maybe he was just stopping by. It doesn’t mean—”

But she doesn’t finish, and you don’t need her to. You know what it means. You feel it in your bones. He’s back in that dark place—And he didn’t come to you. He went to Barry instead.

Why didn’t he come to you?

“I need to go,” you say, your voice coming out more panicked than you’d like, but you can’t help it. Your heart’s racing, your mind is spinning, and the only thing you can focus on is Rafe. You’re grabbing your keys off the counter before your sister can even answer.

“Wait, what? Where are you going?” Monica asks, a bit alarmed now, but you don’t have time to explain.

“I need to find Rafe.”

Your sister steps forward, “Is it really that serious? I mean, maybe he’s just—”

“He’s not just anything,” you cut her off, shaking your head. “If he’s at Barry’s, it’s bad.”

Rafe had told you everything about his past—every ugly detail about the years he spent losing himself, the drugs, the fights, the constant mess of it all. He had opened up to you after your first time together. And for the past two years you’d seen him, the real Rafe, the one who tried so damn hard to be better.

And now? He’s slipping. And you weren’t there.

Your mind is racing as you drive. You think about how good things have been with him—how far he’s come. He’s not the guy he used to be. He doesn’t party like he used to, doesn’t need to numb everything with lines of coke or bottles of whiskey.

He told you about his time in rehab, how scared he was of becoming that version of himself again. But something must’ve happened.

Something big. 

Why didn’t he tell you?

The thought is suffocating. You know him—he’s reckless and impulsive sometimes, but he’s been so careful with you, always making sure you never had to see the side of him that scared him the most. He’s opened up about his struggles with anxiety, about how he sometimes still smokes weed to take the edge off, but this… this is different. 

This is worse.

It had to be Ward. He’s has always had this chokehold on him, making him feel like he’s never good enough. And whenever his mom gets brought up—whenever she’s even mentioned—it messes with him in ways you can barely understand. She’s the one person who could make him spiral, and Ward is the one person who could push him over that edge.

You slam your fist against the steering wheel, frustrated.

He’s dealing with this alone, and now he’s gone back to Barry. To coke. To everything that almost killed him before. You pull up to his place, your stomach churning. You can see Rafe’s truck parked haphazardly outside, and your heart skips a beat. He’s here.

He’s here, and he didn’t come to you.

You sit there for a moment, gripping the wheel, trying to calm yourself down, trying to figure out what the hell you’re even going to say when you see him.

You get out of the car and practically run toward Barry’s door. You know this place, know the people who come here and what they’re looking for. You’re pretty sure your dad spent half his life here, when Barry’s dad still ran the business. 

You don’t even knock. You push the door open. Barry’s on the couch, looking up lazily when you walk in, and you see Rafe—sitting in the corner, eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched.

He looks like a ghost.

Barry snickers from the couch, taking a drag from his joint. “Well, well, look who it is. Didn’t think I’d see the two of you here together.”

“Shut the fuck up, Barry,” you snap, glaring at him before turning your full attention to Rafe. “What are you doing here?”

“W-What?”

“Baby, look at you.”

He tries to stand, his movements slow, like his body isn’t responding the way he wants it to. His eyes are bloodshot, unfocused, his pupils blown wide, and he’s swaying slightly, barely able to keep his balance.

“I just... I needed to clear my head,” he mumbles, the words slurring together. His hand goes to his hair, but it’s shaking, and he can’t even look at you. “It’s not—”

“It’s not what?” You feel your heart breaking with every word, the cracks widening as you take in the mess of him, his clothes disheveled, his face pale, his hands twitching.

He stumbles again, trying to step toward you, but he’s so high he can barely stand. “I didn’t want... I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he rasps out, finally meeting your eyes for just a second before looking away. “Didn’t want you to... think I was still... still that guy.”

“You’re not that guy anymore,” you say softly, even though right now, he looks too much like that guy. “But you’re acting like him.”

His head drops, and he looks down at the floor, his shoulders sagging, defeated. “Didn’t know...what else to do.”

“And you didn’t think to come to me?” Your voice breaks on the last word, “You went to Barry instead of me?”

“Hey now—"

“I told you to shut the fuck up,” You almost scream in Barry's face, your chest rising with each breath you take. Rafe can't stand to look you in the eyes right now. He can't see the disappointment.

“You always know what to do. You call me. You come to me. Why would you run here? Why would you go back to this?” You glance at Barry, who’s watching the whole scene with a smirk on his face like he’s enjoying every second of your heartbreak. “You’re better than this. Get in the car. We can talk about this.”

But he shakes his head, his breath shaky. “Can’t… can’t be with you right now.”

“Why?” 

 “Just… too much. Hurts too much.” He looks down, guilt washing over him. “Didn’t want you to see... this.”

“Then get in the car. We can figure this out together.” Your voice cracks, the hurt pouring out.

He hesitates, shaking his head again. “I… can’t.”

It pushes something inside you.

Maybe you’ll regret it later but now it’s all you can think about. If he doesn’t want your help, he doesn’t want you. And if he doesn’t want you right now he doesn’t deserve to want you when he’s better. 

“You can either get in this car and fight with me, or you can stay here. But if you stay—”

“Y-You’ll leave?” He’s looking at you despite the fog in his brain, not sure if he’s hearing you correctly, “Leave me?”

“I didn’t say that—”

“E-everyon leaves right?"

He’s never said anything like that to you before.

“I’m not leaving you, but if you stay here, with him,” you jerk your head in Barry’s direction, “I can’t help you. I can’t pull you out of this if you don’t want to get out.”

You know you can’t fix this for him. He has to make the choice. His eyes dart toward Barry for a second, and Barry just shrugs, clearly not giving a damn about anything but his next hit. 

“I love you, but I can’t watch you destroy yourself.”

For a second, you think maybe you’ve gotten through to him, because his eyes soften behind all that darkness. But then he shakes his head again, looking at the floor like he’s already made his decision.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mutters, barely audible. “But I don’t know how to stop.”

Your heart breaks a little more at that. “Yes you do, baby. You do. You just need to believe it.”

If he doesn’t come with you, you’re not sure where this ends for him. He’s stuck, frozen in place, trapped by whatever’s going on in his head, and you realize that no matter how much you love him, no matter how much you want to save him, you can’t force him to choose you. You can’t make him get in the car.

“You have to decide,” you say quietly, voice breaking. “Me or this. You can’t have both.”

Rafe looks up at you, eyes glossy, and for a second, you think he might actually say something — something that will make this all okay, something that will bring him back to you. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, torn apart by his demons, his lips pressed into a line. You feel the pit in your stomach grow deeper.

“Okay,” you nod, barely holding back tears. “I guess that’s my answer.”

You turn and walk out the door, your heart shattering with every inch of distance you put between you and him. You don't look back, because if you do, you know you’ll drag him out yourself, and you can’t do that. Not now. But as you get into your car and grip the steering wheel with your entire strength, the sobs come anyway.

You don’t want to leave him. God, you don’t want to. But he didn’t choose you. Not this time.

Rafe doesn’t even register the sound of the door slamming behind you. It’s like he’s watching everything happen from somewhere far away, his body numb, his mind completely blank. You said something, you were upset—he knows that much—but the words never really hit him. They just floated around. He sinks back down into the chair, staring at the floor, heart racing but completely detached. The room is spinning a little, his chest tight, but he can’t feel anything. Can’t let himself feel anything. It’s better this way. Safer.

You left.

He knows that happened, but it doesn’t mean anything right now. He can’t process it. Not in this state. Not when the drugs are still in his system, making everything feel like it’s underwater. He blinks a few times, trying to get his brain to catch up, but it’s not working. It’s just static.

Barry’s voice is somewhere in the background, laughing about something, but he doesn’t hear him either. It’s like the world’s on mute. His body’s still buzzing from the high, fingers twitching, muscles tense, but inside? Inside he’s empty.

Hours pass, maybe. Time doesn’t exist here, not when he’s this far gone. The light changes through the window, but it could be minutes or days for all he knows. He drifts in and out, his head heavy, eyes closing, but sleep never comes. Just darkness. Maybe he did too many lines.

At some point, he wakes up—if you can call it that. His body feels like it weights two hundred pounds, his head is spinning, his mouth dry and sour. He blinks against the light, his vision blurry, trying to figure out where the hell he is. 

It takes a second for everything to catch up. To realize he’s at Barry’s.

And then, it hits him all at once. You.

You were here. You were mad. And then you were gone.

His chest tightens, a sick, sinking feeling crawling up his throat. He sits up too fast, his head swimming. Fuck.He rubs his hands over his face, trying to calm his breathing. His thoughts are still sluggish. You left. You walked out, and he… he didn’t stop you. Didn’t even try.

Why didn’t he stop you?

Before he can think too much about it, Barry saunters in, a smug grin on his face, holding a beer in one hand, a joint in the other. He takes one look at Rafe, slouched and disoriented, and lets out a low, mocking laugh.

“Well, well, well,” Barry drawls, leaning against the doorframe, clearly enjoying every second of this. “Look who’s finally awake. You done fucked it up, Country Club.”

Rafe doesn’t say anything. Can’t.

Barry raises an eyebrow, taking a drag from the joint, shaking his head. “Damn, man. Thought you were smarter than that.”

Rafe just stares at the floor, his stomach twisting. He can’t remember exactly what he said to you. But the look on your face… he can’t forget that. The disappointment. The hurt.

Barry chuckles, settling down on the couch across from him. “What was it? You running your mouth again, or did she just get tired of you being a fuckup?”

The shame is settling in now, creeping up his spine. He doesn’t want to hear this. Doesn’t want to hear anything. But Barry just keeps going, like he’s enjoying watching him fall apart.

“Should’ve seen it coming, man,” Barry continues, “Girl like that? She was bound to leave eventually.”

If he felt strong enough he would’ve punched that joint out of his mouth, his teeth following next. Who the fuck did he think he was to talk about you like he knew you.

He knows Barry’s just trying to get under his skin, but it’s working. He feels sick. He presses his hands against his eyes, trying to push it all away, but it’s no use.

“You done fucked it up, Country Club,” Barry repeats, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “And now you’re right back here. Same old Rafe.”

Same old Rafe. He told himself he’d never end up here again. He swore he was done with this. Done with Barry, done with the drugs, done with the guy he used to be.

But now? Now he’s right back where he started. And the worst part? He let you see it. He doesn’t know how to fix this. Doesn’t know if he even can fix this. But the one thing he does know? He should’ve crawled after you.

Rafe doesn’t say a word.

He doesn’t need to. His hands are already moving, reaching for the small bag of coke on the table. His fingers tremble as they close around it, the weight of the plastic barely registering in his hand. 

Barry watches him, that same smug grin never leaving his face, taking another drag of his joint, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a low chuckle. He’s not surprised. Not at all.

"Of course," Barry mutters, shaking his head in amusement. “Of course, you're takin’ that shit with you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t fight him. He can feel Barry’s eyes on him, feel the judgment radiating off him, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not anymore. 

Not after everything he’s already fucked up. He stuffs the bag in his jacket pocket, standing up on shaky legs, the room still spinning a little as he stumbles toward the door. His mind is on autopilot, moving without him, as if the drugs are the only thing holding him together. 

"Attaboy, Country Club," Barry calls after him, voice dripping with condescension, laughter bubbling up from deep in his chest. “Just keep runnin’. That’s what you’re good at, right?”

Rafe’s hand tightens on the doorknob, his teeth grinding together, but he doesn’t turn back. He can’t look at Barry—he can’t look at any of this—so he does what he always does.

He walks away. He doesn’t think. He just keeps moving, out of the door, out into the night, the bag burning a hole in his pocket.

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It’s been two weeks since you last saw him.

Two weeks of silence, of unanswered calls and texts that sit there on your screen and make you cry every time you look at them. You told him you’d leave, but you didn’t mean it. You never meant it.

You just needed him to fight. For himself. But he didn’t.

And now, you can’t stop thinking about him. It physically hurts.

Every morning you wake up with this heavy impossible ache in your chest, and it only gets worse as the day goes on. You keep wondering where he is, if he’s okay, if he’s even thinking about you or if he’s too far gone to care.

You miss him. God, you miss him.

Now you don’t even know where he is. If he’s still spiraling or if he’s hit rock bottom.

You’ve barely been able to keep it together at work. Every time you try to focus, that image of Rafe in his absolute worst slips in, and you never get anything done. You’ve called in sick twice, just to stay in bed and cry, because you can barely breathe.

You’ve reached out to Sarah a few times, trying to understand what’s going on, but she doesn’t know much either. "He’s off the grid," she’d told you last time, "Doesn’t want to talk to anyone."

That was a week ago.

And now you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone, debating if you should try one more time. One more call. One more text.

Because this can’t possibly end this way. 

He’s the love of your life. 

Sarah’s name flashes on the screen, and you nearly drop the damn thing. “Sarah?”

“Hey,” You can hear it immediately—something’s wrong. “Are you home right now?”

Your stomach drops, “Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”

You can hear her take a shaky breath. “It’s Rafe. He’s, shit, it’s bad. Like, really bad.”

 “What do you mean, bad? Sarah, what happened?”

“Dad’s trying to get his doctor on the line,” she says, her voice cracking. “Just in case he ODs.”

Your blood turns ice cold.

“He’s not picking up,” she continues, her words spilling out in a rush, like she’s trying to keep herself from breaking down. “Dad’s freaking out, and Rafe—he’s not making sense. He’s been on a bender for days, and now he’s just... he’s not there. I don’t know what to do. I thought maybe you could—”

“I’m coming,” you say, cutting her off, already standing, your body moving on autopilot.

You hang up before she can say anything else, grabbing your keys and rushing out the door. The drive to Tannyhill  feels like it takes forever as your mind comes up with worst-case scenarios. You’ve seen Rafe struggle before—you’ve seen the dark places he’s been—but if Sarah’s calling you, if Ward’s getting a doctor involved….

You barely notice you’ve already parked the car, barely notice the front door swinging open as you run inside. The house is quiet, too quiet.

Sarah’s standing by the staircase, her eyes red and puffy. She doesn’t say anything, just nods toward the living room.

And that’s when you see him.

He’s slumped on the couch, his body limp, his eyes half-open but glazed over, like he’s not even seeing what’s in front of him. His skin is pale, clammy, his hands twitching every few seconds, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looks like half a version of himself, his breathing shallow and uneven.

Ward’s pacing the room, his phone pressed to his ear. “I don’t care if he’s busy, get him here now. He’s going to fucking die.”

“Rafe?” you call, stepping toward him. But he doesn’t react. Doesn’t even flinch. He just stares ahead, eyes unfocused, like he’s not even aware you’re there.

Sarah’s standing behind you now, her voice low, “He won’t talk to us. He’s too far gone.”

You sink down beside him, your heart breaking at the sight of him like this. You reach out, hesitating for a second before gently placing your hand on his arm.

“Rafe,” your voice wavers. “Baby, it’s me. Please… please talk to me.”

But there’s nothing. Just silence.

His head lolls to the side, and his eyes meet yours—but it’s like looking at a ghost. The person you know, the person you love, isn’t there. Not right now. Not in this moment. And it kills you.

You keep whispering his name, pleading for him to wake up, to do something, but nothing works.

Ward's still on the phone, pacing like a caged animal, his voice a angry hum in the background. His eyes flick over to you every few minutes, but he doesn’t say anything. Sarah’s standing off to the side, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes red and puffy from crying. You can see how scared she is, and you’re glad they got Weezie out of the house before she could see this. 

After what feels like an eternity, the front door bursts open, and a doctor rushes in, followed by a paramedic with a bag of medical equipment. The doctor, some guy Ward must have on speed dial for situations like this, doesn’t waste any time. He kneels down beside Rafe, checking his pulse, his pupils, his breathing.

“This is bad,” the doctor mutters, shaking his head. “He’s lucky he’s still breathing.”

Lucky. 

The paramedic moves in, setting up an oxygen mask, checking Rafe’s vitals, and it feels like the room is spinning. You try to stay calm, try to keep your hand on Rafe.

Ward finally hangs up the phone and stands there, watching as the doctor works. “Is he gonna be okay?” he asks, his voice strained because god forbid he shows more emotion.

The doctor glances up, his expression grim. “We need to take him in. I’m stabilizing him, but if this had gone on any longer, we’d be having a different conversation right now.”

You feel like you're going to be sick.

The paramedic starts prepping him for transport, and you stand there, helpless, watching as they move him onto a stretcher. His body looks so limp, so fragile. They’re talking about taking him to the hospital for observation, but all you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears.

Ward steps forward, he watches his son being carried away. For the first time, you see it—real fear in his eyes. 

“I should’ve seen this coming,” Ward says, his voice shaking. “I should’ve stopped it. This is my fault.”

You feel something snap inside of you.  “I’m sure it fucking is.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just stands there like a fucking idiot. Sarah is beside you now, her hand on your arm, gently pulling you back. “Let’s go,” she mutters,“We should go with him.”

You nod, swallowing as you follow her out of the house, leaving Ward standing there alone.

You climb into your car, Sarah beside you, and you both sit there for a moment in silence, watching as the ambulance pulls away, taking Rafe with it.

“I’m scared,” Sarah admits. 

You close your eyes, and nod. “So am I.”

You have to remind yourself to breathe. She sits beside you, staring straight ahead and neither of you says another word.

The hospital is quiet when you arrive, eerily so. You both rush in, Sarah at your side, searching for the emergency room and after a bunch of paperwork and hurried conversations, you’re finally led to the waiting room. The doctor said they’d keep you updated, and you sit down on those stiff, uncomfortable chairs, the waiting begins.

Minutes drag by like hours. You try to text or scroll through your phone, anything to distract yourself, but you can’t focus. Every time you close your eyes, all you can see is Rafe. It’s like your brain is stuck on replay, and you can’t shut it off. Sarah’s over there biting her lip until it’s bleeding. Every now and then, she looks at you, like she’s about to say something, but then she doesn’t. And you don’t either. You can’t. What the hell would you even say? It feels like you’re both waiting for the worst possible news and just pretending you’re not.

After what feels like forever, the doctor finally comes through the doors, and Sarah and you jump up at the same time. 

The doctor sighs, and he looks tired, like this isn’t the first time he’s delivered news like this today.

“We stabilized him,” he says, “He was really close to an overdose, but we got to him in time. He’s still unconscious, but his vitals are stable for now. We’ll keep him under observation for at least 24 hours.”

You finally take a deep breath, but it’s shaky, and it doesn’t feel real. 

Sarah doesn’t even hesitate. The second the doctor says Rafe’s stable, she’s heading towards his room, like she needs to see him, to make sure for herself that he’s really still here. You don’t follow her, though. Your legs feel like they’re made of concrete, if you move, you’ll just collapse right there in the hallway.

As much as you want to be with him, to hold his hand or just… see him breathing, you know you can’t handle it. Not right now. You’ve spent the last two weeks trying to hold it together, and this is the first time you feel like you can finally breathe. Like you’re not suffocating with worry.

What you need more than anything is to get out of here. To just breathe, to close your eyes for more than a minute without the image of him passed out, strung out, burned into your brain. You need sleep. You need to feel something other than panic. He’s gonna be okay. Maybe not perfect, maybe not healed, but for now, he’s alive. 

The next day, you finally gather the courage to see him. You feel like you might throw up at any second. You stop outside his room, staring at the door for what feels like forever, trying to convince yourself to go inside.

He’s lying in bed, looking like he barely walked out of this one alive, but he’s awake. His eyes meet yours the second you step inside, and you feel like you’re going to start crying at any given second. 

“Hey,” You manage to say, You don’t trust your voice to be strong enough to say something more.

Rafe blinks, like he’s surprised to see you. His voice is rough when he speaks, cracked from everything his body’s been through. “You came.”

“Of course I did,” He’s genuinely shocked. As if he thought you’d just walk away from all of this. From him. You swallow hard, taking a step closer to the bed. “Of course I came, Rafe.” Your voice is soft, barely holding together. “Where else would I be?”

He doesn’t answer. His eyes flicker away from yours, settling on the IV in his arm, like he can’t stand to look at you. 

“Sarah called me. She was scared. She didn’t know what to do.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he still won’t meet your eyes. “She shouldn’t have,” he mutters, his voice hoarse, barely there.

“She shouldn’t have had to, Rafe. You scared the shit out of her—out of everyone. And I’ve been sitting here for two weeks, waiting for you to say something, anything, and you just—” You stop yourself, your throat closing up, and you bite your lip to keep from crying. “You almost died.”

You can see his chest rising and falling slowly, and for a split second, you think he’s not going to answer at all. That he’s just going to keep shutting you out. 

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you to see how fucked up I am.”

Your heart breaks all over again because you’ve already seen it. You’ve seen every part of him—the good, the bad, the absolute worst. And you’re still here. You’re still standing in this stupid hospital room because you love him. He shakes his head, his hands gripping the edge of the blanket like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“I don’t deserve you.”

You step closer to the bed, sitting down carefully on the edge, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe. Just a little bit.

“Don’t say that,” you reach for his hand. He flinches at first but doesn’t pull away when you lace your fingers with his. “You’re gonna be okay. We’ll get through this. But you can’t keep pushing me away. I need you to let me help you.”

He closes his eyes, his face twisting in pain, “Ward wanted us to meet mom and I just—”

You’ve never fully understood what his mom meant to him, or maybe what losing her did to him, now you do. That deep-rooted pain that always seems to haunt him when he talks about her is stronger than you’ve ever seen before. 

“I didn’t want you to see this mess. I don’t want anyone to. I’m a fucking disaster. Every time I try to fix something, I just make it worse. I just—” He breaks off, his jaw clenching like he’s trying to swallow down the rest of his words, the ones he can’t say out loud.

“You spent years sober, that’s not easy,” You scoot closer, wrapping your arms around him carefully, not caring if he feels like a mess or if you’re being too much. You just want him to feel like he’s not alone. “Baby, I know you’re hurting,” you murmur into his shoulder, “But I’m not going anywhere.”

“You should,” He confesses, “I hurt you.”

“You have,” you admit, “But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving. I’m not gonna give up on you.”

He looks away, like he doesn’t believe you, like he’s waiting for you to just walk out of that hospital room and never look back. But you don’t.

You tighten your grip on his hand, "You don’t get to decide that for me.  I’m still here because I love you. Even when you push me away.”

“You shouldn’t love me,” he whispers, like it’s some kind of fact, like it’s already been decided.

You shake your head, leaning in closer, your hand resting on his cheek. “But I do, Rafe. I always will. Even when you don’t think you deserve it, we’ll figure it out, together, okay? One step at a time.”

He nods, barely, but it's something. It’s a start.

[hugejk]

2 years.

due to high demand part 2 !!!! feedback is also very much appreciated <3

cw: addiction mentioned, rehab

||_________________||

After getting settled into your temporary home, you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Being woken up to the bright orange sun. You get up. You still didn’t know what to do with yourself. I guess the comments were right. You really do need some professional help.

you just didn’t know where to start, rehab? therapy? checking yourself into a psych ward? You sit at the small work desk at the hotel, clicking the pen and scooting the small writing pad they provided. You assume the best place to start was the addiction problems. You go on your phone and look for places. You find the highest rated one, and call it.

“hi.uhm. i was just uhm… wondering if i can check in? like check myself into rehab.”

the man on the other line told you the process of checking yourself in. You had to go in person and stay there until they think you were better than you had started. This process might take a while. But you’re willing to do it.

You gather your things, planning what you were going to tell the lady downstairs,

“my flight got rescheduled for today.”

“my friend is back at their house i don’t need the room anymore.”

“my parents have a room for me at their place.”

heading out the room and towards the elevator. Spamming the down button to hurry and get to the place. You didn’t care to wear the disguise you had packed. Nobody would see you for a couple more months anyways. At least that’s what you thought.

as the doors opened up, you look up from your shoes and see two young men. One of them wearing a dark beard and the other…well he looks like a kid. Clean shaven face, big brown eyes, short brunette hair.

“that’s exactly what i- wait aren’t you y/n?”

the one with the dark beard said as he pointed at you.

fuck.

“…do you want a picture?…”

you couldn’t even deny it, people recognized you so much now that you can’t say no to pictures, or else people would think your a rude arrogant celeb. And them boom there goes the grammy nomination, the awards, the money. everything you had worked so hard for.

you were so stuck in your head that you didn’t realize he was as talking to the younger one.

“this is the singer i was telling you about just the other day! you know…the one you said was-“

he was cut off by the brunette slapping his arm, giving him the “don’t you dare” look.

“look, i don’t have the time for this, do you want something? i have to be somewhere.”

you didn’t mean to be rude, but you just wanted to be fixed already. You didn’t have time to stop and talk with these guys. You notice the small badge on their nike sweaters.

“oh sorry——you know our football club is sponsored by spotify? you could totally be this years sponsor.”

the beard said to you, side eyeing the brunette and wiggling his eyebrows. Something was up. You just didn’t care enough to ask.

“uhm.yeah. sure whatever.”

you weren’t even planning on making new music anytime soon. you brush it off and push the down button for the other elevator. You didn’t want to be anywhere near a person right now.

now that you were alone in the elevator, you started to wonder and replay how the beard and the brunette were acting. As you got downstairs to the lobby, your worst fear. A packed lobby with screaming people and more guys all wearing the same nike hoodie, that logo.

you make a pit stop at the bathrooms to put on your glasses and mask, there was no way you couldn’t get away from this one. You blend back into the crowd, asking the nearest person,

“what’s this all about?”

“do you live under a rock? this is the best football club of all time right in front of us! FC barcelona!”

that’s when it finally hit you, the logo seemed so familiar. You remember watching a few el classicos with your dad when you were little. How could you forget?

But you had more important things to do that day. You thanked the person who reminded you of the club and went on with your day. Walking with your head down and airpods in, you arrived to your new home for a few months.

you open the door and walk up to the front desk,

“uhm..hi. id like to check myself in..”

you say with your head down, feeing ashamed that you were asking for help. You could’ve done this on your own but here you are.

“okay! before we check you in we’re gonna have to have you fill these papers out, and i hope you know what your doing right now is brave and your in good hands.”

crazy. It’s like the lady behind the desk could read your unsure mind. Her words repeat and bounce around in your head. Taking the papers and taking a seat in the lobby. It was small, and empty.

You have no idea what’s to come but surely it’ll be the best for you.

||_____________________||

tags: @pabl0andm3 @spidybaby @htpssgavi @alexis1taylorr

[peppymintdreams]

What If Luca Didn’t Go to the Party

This is my first ever Zsakuva Fanfic so bear with me on this 🙏🏿

masterlist

It was a late Saturday evening. Luca was lying in his dorm room, staring at the ceiling and feeling empty. He had finished all he needed to do, and all that was left was to relax. He had been invited to a party but didn’t feel like going. What would he even do at a party? It came as a shock when someone actually invited him; it must’ve been a joke to get a reaction out of him—who knows? The night was quiet, aside from the occasional ventilation turning on and off, the faint sounds of upbeat music echoing across the campus, and moans of couples haunting the hallways. Here he was, alone in his bed.

Deciding to make a stand, he put on his nice clothes and headed for the door, determined to make his presence known at the university. But when his hand touched the door, something changed. Visions of doubt, insecurities, and the years of bullying he’d endured flooded his mind. He wanted to be strong; he wanted to try something new, but the pain was just too much to handle. What was he to do—stay home and let his insecurities and doubts win, or let himself be free? It took everything in his power to keep his hand on the doorknob and turn it fully. He was almost there, the door beginning to open, his vision starting to blur. It felt like time was running out if he didn’t make a decision. In the end… he shut the door and locked it.

“Weak,” that’s all he could hear in his head. A weak person, he thought. He lay down on the sofa, turned the TV on, and watched whatever was playing, tears streaming down his face. What was he to become if he couldn’t even muster up the courage to just be a person?

His phone lit up with a notification from his mom. She was his safe place, the person he could turn to whenever something went wrong and he didn’t know the answer. He called her and waited as the line buzzed. “Hello,” she said, her voice like a cloud—so soft and welcoming.

“Mom, I—” he stuttered, tears rolling down his face.

“Hey, honey!” she spoke with excitement; just getting a call from her son made her day, judging by the silence and occasional weeping on the other line. “What’s wrong, baby?” Anytime Luca was sad or upset, his parents were there for him, no matter what giant missile life threw at him.

“Mom, I don’t know what to do,” he began to cry, his voice cracking, He had explained to her about his invite to the party and what just happened and the meltdown he had.

“Aww, baby, it’s okay to not know the answer.” Hearing his mom understand him relaxed him, calming his breath. “Sweetheart, I understand how you’re feeling. It’s completely normal to be scared about going to a party, especially when you’re unsure of what to expect. Remember, it’s okay to feel nervous.”

His breath hitched; he began to hiccup. “Maybe you could talk to a friend who’s going and see how they feel about it?” Thinking about what she said, he realized he didn’t really have any friends in university or anywhere in London. So, what was the next best option?

“Think about what you might enjoy about the party—like meeting new people or having fun with friends. If you decide to go, just be yourself. And if you feel uncomfortable at any point, it’s okay to leave. Your feelings matter, and I’m here to support you, no matter what you choose.”

He began to calm down. Just a couple of minutes ago, it felt like the weight of the world was crashing down on him, but hearing his mother’s voice was enough to wash away everything. He wanted to change the topic to avoid the emotional roller coaster he had just thrown at her, but then he heard a door open and a heavy grunt—Luca’s dad was home.

“I have to go, Luca; your father just got back from the store. But we can talk tomorrow. Does that sound good?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Luca replied. There was nothing more he enjoyed than unwinding with his mother; she always had the right answer.

“Mom, I do have one more thing to say.” There was something that had been bothering him lately, and he needed the answer to free his mind. “Can it wait until tomorrow, dear? Your father appears to be struggling.” Disappointed, he reluctantly agreed.

“Of course, Mom,” he said sadly. Judging by his tone, his mom could tell he wanted to talk but couldn’t stop himself from waiting. His father did have a bad back.

“Well, okay. I have to go. Mommy and Daddy love you very much, Luca. Kisses,” she said.

“I love you too, Mom.” She hung up as soon as he responded; she was in a rush. He understood his parents had their own lives, but they always made time for him.

Turning off his phone, Luca made up his mind. Grabbing his laptop that was still on the coffee table, he looked for available flights home after his graduation. There was no one he had to stay with; he didn’t have friends here, and he wasn’t in a relationship this town wouldn’t miss him. Luca let out a heavy breath and flipped through the channels, trying to relax. “I’m here,” he thought. He felt comfortable. Soon, in the next few months, he’d be home—there’s no place like home.

Not more than a couple of miles away, a lonely person stood next to a table full of drinks. They seemed dazed and confused. “Ayo ___, come and dance with me,” a friend said. Looking at them, they replied, “Meh, I don’t know.”

Their friend looked at them, concerned. “Yo ___, you alright? You seem troubled.” They were troubled; something didn’t feel right. He took their hand, wrapping his other arm around their waist, twirling them to him. Nothing else mattered but having ___ someone he longed to hold in his arms, someone he was now face to face with, just a few inches apart.

“I don’t know; I just have a weird feeling,” they said, backing up and looking around.

“Feeling? Like what?” he asked.

“Like someone was supposed to be here…”

[changingplumbob]

Foster Household: Chapter 9, Part 9

CW: Mental Health Struggles - Guide to content warnings

Even Sulani was not immune from rain. Carson got out of bed at the cry of his alarm and headed to his bathroom. He liked that there was more space, and it had a nice view even with the downpour, but it didn’t make having to shave before school any easier. When he was clean and dressed and finished breakfast he decided to call his older sister, just to check about sharks.

Carson: I know it’s early but can you please tell me if sharks can break through my floor

Marta: Hola Carson, Keira is in the shower

Carson: Oh, sorry, I didn't even think about you answering her phone

Marta: It’s bueno. She told me on honeymoon sharks are pretty safe. Most attacks are from thinking a human is a fish. They will not break through your floor

Carson: Are you sure

Marta: Si, I promise. She said from underneath surfboards look like seals *laughs* isn’t that cute? But your house will not look like a big seal

Kayleigh had the day off and spent it doing what she loved most, painting! After finishing a particularly excellent painting she got a call from her regular gallery. News around the town was that Kayleigh Foster was now a global superstar! They hoped she would remember them in her future works and they had recommended her for a star of fame in Del Sol Valley! Once she got a call from the council she couldn’t contain her excitement and called around her family to let them know.

Charlie: You’re really going to get a star?

Kayleigh: That’s the rumor. You’ll all come right? I couldn’t have done it without my family. And after maybe everyone can stay for a couple of days, this house has enough room

Charlie: Of course but don’t you want to celebrate like... without your kids

Kayleigh: Your dad suggested a dinner party for my friends tonight which will be nice. He’s going to ring around on his afternoon break

When Carson got home he congratulated his mum and sat down to do his homework where he could talk to her and his eldest sister.

Carson: So everyone will be invited to stay? Even Reece?

Kayleigh: *sighs* You’ll be at school a lot of the time, don’t worry about Reece

Charlie: Besides, he’s less snarky with you when Samir is around. It’s like he tries to be well behaved or something

Carson: Charlie you know he tried convincing me Samir is a werewolf! As if I'd fall for that

Kayleigh: Actually that is true

Charlie: Mum... have you been inhaling the paint fumes for to long?

Kayleigh: No! Samir told me. Your dad and I have discussed it at length. It’s strange but true

Charlie: When were you going to tell us?

Kayleigh: I wasn’t but clearly Reece doesn’t mind you knowing

Carson: Great, another thing he can make fun of me for not knowing

Kayleigh: I know you two fight but he loves you really

Charlie: Have you told him about the OCD yet

Carson: No. Do you think I should?

Kayleigh: It’s always your choice darling

Carson: Maybe. I’ll think about it since he’s willing to open up about Samir

Kayleigh: Do you want to invite some friends over? Me and your dad will be out here with our guests so the living room will be empty

Carson: Yeah I’ll see if the guys and Onyx are free, thanks Mum

Charlie: Mum that picture is gorgeous, is that Ariel? Can I have it? Please please please

Kayleigh: *laughs* Okay firstborn, it’s yours

Charlie: YES

Harvey greeted the guests as they arrived to celebrate his wife. Most of them were from back when they lived in Willow Creek but Kayleigh had also asked him to invite two he’d never met before, Suzanna and Adam Kightstone.

Harvey: Nice to meet you. I’m glad you could make the trip from Chestnut Ridge

Suzanna: Of course! She deserves a celebration

Adam: Oh wow, look at all her art! This is so much more than the gallery pieces

Harvey: Yes if she paints masterpieces she likes to keep them at home

Kayleigh: Food everyone! We’ve made a gorgeous salad for starters

Suzanna: Now remember we’re here for my friend, not to fly off the handle if the food isn’t right

Adam: Alexander is the food critic, I just do art

Suzanna: Adam I’m serious. She’s never judged us for being aliens, it’s important

Adam: Don’t worry starlight, I can keep a level head for a night for you. Let’s go see what humans choose to put in their salads, how many fruits do you think we'll find?

Bob: You must be proud

Harvey: Oh I am! How a fisherman like me managed to catch her I’ve no idea. Anyway we’ll be celebrating your success soon. Bob is a chef see

Adam: Oh yes I’ve read the reviews, everyone seems to love your food. Any plans of opening your own place?

Bob: Eventually but I know Eliza would like me to have a stable well paying job for a while first, especially now we have Tiana. She’s our youngest, we adopted her

Suzanna: I would have loved a girl but we have two boys

Bob: Well just wait until they grow up, Onyx surprised me, and Aaron's Artemisia. You may have a daughter under your roof and just not know it yet

Calista: If Emisia ever crosses a line just tell us and we’ll talk to her about her manners

Kayleigh: From what I can tell Carson isn’t too bothered by her. He was a bit stressed after prom but I think he has girl on the brain for now

Aaron: It’s a relief there’s some kids that are unbothered

Eliza: Fergus is also unbothered worse luck

Aaron: I know you think Emisia is a bad influence but-

Eliza: Oh they have always been thick as thieves. I don’t think I could pry their friendship apart with a crowbar. It helps that she has a lawyer for a dad though, hopefully that'll stop them getting up to anything illegal

Previous ... Next

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Make Me Write ask answered

162 📖 for @inell!

---

When they arrive at the fire station, Eddie is indeed in rough shape. Scratched, damp, and wearing a heating blanket. 

“Buck, why is my dad dressed like a baked potato?” Chris asks nervously when he sees him. 

Eddie is sitting in the back of an ambulance, looking a little sleepy. The other paramedic - the one that isn’t Chimney - is talking to him. 

“It’s keeping him warm,” Buck explains. “Why don’t you go see him? That’ll make him even warmer.”

“DAD!” Chris calls out, heeding Buck’s advice. He picks up his pace a little in Eddie’s direction. 

“CHRISTOPHER!” Eddie calls back once he sees him. He hops out of the ambulance, dropping the warming blanket, and runs across the engine bay floor towards his son. When he reaches him, he scoops him up into the biggest, tightest, most loving hug Buck has ever seen. Buck honestly feels a little choked up, watching it. 

He doesn’t want to intrude on their moment, so he hangs back, holding onto Christopher’s backpack. After a minute of this hug, of Eddie speaking quietly to his son, he finally looks in Buck’s direction. He sets Christopher down, strides over to where Buck is, and hugs him too. Just quick, with a clap on the back, but it’s still a hug. It catches Buck off-guard a little.

“Thank you,” Eddie says emphatically. “Thank you so much for taking care of him.”

“No problem, really,” Buck says when Eddie pulls away. “Chris kept me in line. Made sure I knew the right answers to American history. Really he did me a favor.”

Eddie’s smile in response is practically glowing. “I owe you one, man.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. Just glad you’re okay.” Buck says. “Is Carla good? I couldn’t reach her either.”

Eddie nods. “Her dad isn’t well. She was visiting him today.”

“Oh,” Buck replies. “That’s… That’s too bad.”

Eddie takes a deep breath. “Listen, man, can I buy you a beer sometime? As a thank you?”

Buck… Well, for some reason, even though it’s totally not necessary, Buck really likes the sound of that.

“Yeah,” Buck nods. “Yeah, that’d be great. My number should be in your phone from when I tried to call you.”

“Perfect,” Eddie smiles. 

x.

It’s way too much fun. 

Buck meets Eddie at a sports bar. They grab beers. Watch a game. It’s probably the most fun Buck’s had in a while. Without work or a kid in between them, they connect as just people. And it turns out, they connect pretty well. They have a similar sense or humor and like a lot of the same things. Eddie listens when Buck goes on accidental tangents about subjects he finds interesting. Buck is genuinely delighted with stories about Christopher. They just sort of… Mesh?

By the end of the night, they’re making plans to hang out again, and Buck’s stomach can’t quite shake a fluttery, swooping feeling. Something that he’s only really felt before… Well, on dates. 

Which is strange for Buck because, well… Eddie is a man? And Buck didn’t know that another man could make him feel that way. 

Which probably means… Something. 

xi.

Buck and Eddie manage to hang out two more times by themselves, and once with Christopher, even, before the world shuts down. And Buck goes from the exciting thrill of a new friend/maybe crush to working alone in an empty library, filling online orders, and putting them in sterile pickup areas, with nothing at all to look forward to. 

It’s awful. It’s depressing. Buck genuinely struggles to get out of bed in the morning for the entire month of April. 

His sister is pregnant, and she can’t even stay with Chimney because of the risk. She’s alone. Buck’s alone. Everyone is boxed off from each other. 

They keep in contact. Eddie and Buck. Text. Social media. Buck does a few virtual homework help sessions with Chris out of working hours. But it’s weird. It’s like they almost had a friendship or something, and it just kind of gets stalled. 

All the nothingness means Buck has time. On and off work. He has nothing but time. It reminds him of the early years of his undergrad, where the coursework wasn’t challenging or interesting enough to keep his mind busy. He’d had to find ways to fill the time. Partying. Drinking. Sex. Working out. Those had been his options, then. Apart from working out, he doesn’t want to replicate the rest in a global pandemic. Which means Buck is left with way more hours to fill than even in undergrad. 

And he’s a librarian. So… One of the things he does to avoid going crazy? He reads. He researches. He learns. And one of the things he starts going all in on learning about? Human sexuality and attraction. Because the distance from Eddie doesn’t make Buck stop thinking about him. Doesn’t quell the curiosity, the thinking. The excitement each time a notification from Eddie lights up his phone. So Buck researches, and he tries to figure himself out. 

So, in the middle of a pandemic, where everyone is quarantined, and Buck is completely alone, he discovers he’s bisexual. Stellar timing. Really great work. Had he uncovered this little tidbit of identity earlier in his life? Maybe he’d be quarantining with a boyfriend or a husband or something cool like that. Since he’s historically fumbled all the women in his life. Who is he kidding? He’ll probably be the same with dudes. But until proven otherwise, he imagines he’ll be very smooth.

So. Bisexual. Alone in his studio apartment. Living through an unprecedented global emergency. Kind of thirsting over a man he won’t be able to see for months, and who he doesn’t even know is queer, so probably has no chance with. 

Buck is frustrated. 

He learns to cook. He buys a variety of plants. Tries and fails to learn to draw. Impulse adopts a cat; a Burmese he renames Begonia. Her previous name was Princess and to be honest she is way too relaxed for that designation. 

Nothing makes the sense of restlessness building in his chest go away. 

xii.

It’s late summer by the time he and Eddie can hang out again. At a distance. Outside, on a hike. Masks on if they get any closer. Eddie has a higher chance of infection on his job, and Buck wants to be safe. 

They fall back into their easy pattern of conversation and humor. It’s like whatever paused between them at the beginning of the year picks right back up without any issue. And Buck is relieved. Relieved and excited. Like they’re pointed towards a direction he hasn’t seen before, but is desperate to discover.

Buck tells Eddie all about the ever-changing library policies regarding the virus. Eddie tells Buck about childcare struggles. 

“With Carla caring for her dad full time, and my Abuela back in Texas, it’s been insane,” he admits. 

“And no aftercare programs at the library,” Buck says. 

“Or anywhere,” Eddie says. 

“Man, that’s rough. I’m sorry.”

“It’s… Well, single parenting is never easy. But global catastrophe certainly adds to it.”

“Hey, if-if I can help…” Buck offers, a little aimlessly. 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Is the library open to visitors yet?”

“Well, no,” Buck admits. “Soon, hopefully? But I mean, I can ask the head librarian - Janine - if he can, uh, sneak in. Masked up, of course.” “I mean, if he could. That’d be really helpful. He could do class from there, right?” Eddie asks. ”Only if it wouldn’t put you out!”

[daxromana]

do you ever think about the logistics of Clara’s death, like where was her body found, what was the official cause of death, where did they bury her? did they hold a memorial at coal hill? did her students get a long term substitute for the rest of the school year? twelve was too busy trying to make her not dead to help address any of that, so how do you think everyone made sense of her body randomly turning up dead in london? especially since her family had no idea about the tardis (unlike brian or jackie or sylvia). what did courtney think?

idk i’m thinking about all the unanswered questions and the decision to bury her next to her mother and her father collecting her personal stuff from her classroom and then two weeks later she shows up on his doorstep alive and whole and totally untouched.

[suguann]

tags. fem!reader, boss/employee relationship, stupidly domestic, little wife kink in there somewhere, nanny reader, single dad gojo, breeding kink [18+ only]

You sometimes find yourself wistfully imagining having a family of your own—a soft and sweet little bundle to cuddle and someone strong and capable (competent) at your side. But you can’t think of the last time you’ve been on a date where that person had the same interest in something more serious than casually sleeping around. 

Nannying seemed like the natural conclusion, especially when you’re still settling in a new city and barely scraping by for rent and student loans for a degree you don’t use. 

You pick up a few jobs just to get a feel for it: parents going away for a honeymoon, a last-minute call-in, a weekend business trip. Then a friend of a friend says she makes enough to afford one of those picturesque apartments that overlook tall high-rises and iridescent lights, the very ones you’ve dog-eared in real-estate magazines.

All it takes are a few phone calls and an interview until you’re packing up your apartment and taking the freeway outside of the city to somewhere remote and expensive, your car looking almost out of place parked beside the shiny new one in the long driveway.

You rap on the front door before you lose your nerve, and a few moments later, it opens, and you’re unsure who looks more out of place: this man with a smile too big, dressed for work, immaculate suit dampened by the baby rag slung over his shoulder and what looks like drool on his crisp collar, or you in your scuffed shoes and second-hand store clothes, standing in front of the nicest house you’ve ever seen.

“The nanny?”

“Yes,” you mutter, licking your lips. “That’s me.”

“Good, Ren just woke up from his nap,” he says, opening the door a little wider with a creak. The darkness behind him is almost comforting.

You take a deep breath and pass over the threshold into his home.

The entire time, his hand stays on the small of your back to steer you toward the nursery, and a shiver threatens up the length of your spine.

Three months. That’s how long it takes before your employer poses a problem.

It’s not that he’s a terrible boss; in fact, he’s quite the opposite. He lets you take over one of the many spare rooms in his massive house, pays you double the regular rate, and gives you time off when you ask for it.

It also helps that Ren is cute, only a year old, and still so sweet and tiny. 

Perfect.

The problem lies in that you know what he sounds like first thing in the morning, that he knows how you like your coffee, that he helps you fold laundry in the living room while the baby naps, how you catch him staring anytime you hold his son—his expression shuttered, a foreign thing that you can’t read. It’s all so terribly domestic. 

Terrible in that you think it’s a horrible idea to develop a crush on your boss, that you can’t help but get flustered anytime he so much as looks your way, even if it’s fleeting. How a sleepy smile before he retires to his room for the night can turn your thoughts into a scattered, ill-defined mess of what they used to be until all that’s left are words like spun sugar melting on your tongue.

But also, it’s not normal, at least not from your experience. 

You were lucky in the past if your employer even wanted to know about their kid’s day. Barely saying hello once they walk through the front door before sending money to your bank account.

Satoru—because that’s what he asked you to call him one afternoon while you were in the middle of feeding Ren mashed banana, a lazy smile curling the edges of his lips after you say it for the first time—wants to know everything: what Ren ate, if he laughed, how your day was, if you finally got your hands on that book you’ve been meaning to buy. 

“You don’t have to ask about my day,” you tell him shyly, accepting the glass of wine he proffers you after spending the past hour trying to put a teething baby to bed. “To make me feel better, that is.”

“Would it be so bad if I said I want to? You live here, too.”

You try to separate the two: that he cares as your employer and not for any other reason, and how you sometimes catch the soft look in his eye whenever he looks at you could make you believe otherwise.

Cool fingers cup your chin gently, thumb caressing the top of your cheek, now close enough that you catch a few of the warm notes of his cologne, a move that’s probably very inappropriate between a boss and an employee.

“I never say anything I don’t mean.”

You swallow, nodding, slightly shaky, breath caught in your chest. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He retreats to his office before witnessing how those two words knock the wind out of you.

He starts saying things like our shopping list, our car—because he gave you the keys to the SUV parked beside his car and hasn’t touched it since; for you and the baby, he said, plus it’s terrible on gas when I drive it to work—our house, our baby. You don’t think he means to do it; it's more of an easy slip in conversation.

But then, one morning, he’s rushing around the kitchen, hair still damp and smelling like his shampoo, as he grabs his coffee and briefcase from the counter, kissing Ren’s forehead first…and then yours.

You’re half convinced that you imagined it—that his lips hadn’t stayed there for a second longer than necessary—until he straightens his tie and heads out for the day with a ‘be good’ tossed over his shoulder, and you’re left wondering if he meant to say that to you or Ren.

It sets off a chain reaction of thoughts whirling away in your head, leaves you wanting and wondering—only ever allowing yourself to fantasize a little when the house is quiet and dark, the baby monitor humming on your nightstand, and images of your boss flit behind closed eyelids as you fit your hand underneath your soft sleep shorts.

In the morning, you worry he can tell what you did, his smile almost too sharp, too something—more teasing than what you’re used to—his hand resting on your lower back as he leans down to kiss Ren’s chubby cheek while you make breakfast.

“I have a meeting this afternoon, so I’ll be late. Want me to pick up some food on the way home?”

No, you think, there’s no way he knows.

You spend most of the morning cleaning and folding the array of graphic onesies Satoru has a penchant for dressing Ren in, and the later half walking around the pool because it’s warm and Ren enjoys splashing around in the water. It’s enough to tucker him out for bed early, unable to keep his eyes open while eating a plate of mashed potatoes.

It’s also the first time in weeks that you have the night to yourself, no baby keeping you busy, no Satoru to—well.

After a long shower, you step out of the bathroom, moving into the hallway. And there are many reasons why you felt confident walking the few steps it took to reach your bedroom. Most revolve around what Satoru told you that morning, so you don’t expect him to be standing there, shirtsleeves rolled up, piercing gaze sliding down the length of you wrapped in a towel and little else.

“I brought home those drunken noodles you like,” he says when his eyes focus back on your face, his whole expression softening into a smile.

A beat. “Thank you,” you whisper, unable to look away.

He tucks the wet strands of hair clinging to your cheek behind your ear. “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll join you downstairs?”

The noise in your brain goes static.

You’re unsure what causes it, but everything changes when he comes home early one afternoon and finds you and the baby napping in the nursery. He has this soft look on his face and something else you can’t decipher with his piercing blue eyes settled firmly on you.

Ren coos softly into your shoulder. 

When Satoru picks him up and settles him in the crib, then walks you to your room—here, let me help you—and when he hovers in your doorway, you let him in without question.

He doesn’t waste any time peeling off your clothes, eager to have you naked and splayed out underneath him. You cum on his tongue more times than you can count until you’re silently begging him to fuck you.

He laughs, large hands spread over your tummy. 

“Use your words, baby. I’m not a mind reader.”

You feel like you’re someone else watching you from somewhere else, another body rocking against the length of your boss’s cock, back arching every time you manage to find the friction you need. He’s hard against your back, thick in a way that makes you wonder if he did enough to stretch you out. 

“I-I want—”

All other thoughts are obliterated by the stretch and press of him against your cunt. 

“Think I’m going to keep you,” he rasps, lips dragging over your throat. “Keep this drippy little cunt spread open on my desk whenever I want while the baby naps. Would you like that? For me to fuck you full until you give me a baby.”

You clench, nerves shot.

“Gonna get all round with my baby, stay here forever,” he mumbles when he draws away, and you can’t tell if the words are meant for you to hear or slip out without him realizing. “Fuck—breed my little wife until it takes—”

Your eyes roll up, lost in the little promises he paints across your skin, body shivering over and over until you’re sobbing from it until he has to clamp a hand down over your mouth—shh, you’re going to wake the baby—going limp when he finally cums, pressing as deep as your body will allow, as if he can somehow imprint himself there. 

Wonders if maybe he’s been building up to this moment all along. 

It’s so easy to lay there after, blissed out while he litters kisses across your face and collarbones, letting him lift your hips up to slide a pillow underneath, even though the position is awkward when he tries to cuddle you afterward.

His fingers draw shapes on your stomach, giving you a wistful look, like he can’t believe he’s laying here with his cum still dripping between your thighs—no matter how many times he scoops it up and pushes it back inside you. “Do you think it’ll take?”

And you don’t have the heart to tell him about the little foil packet of pills tucked away in your nightstand.

[lightsoutletsgo]

bear hugs — cl.16

pairing: charles leclerc x bearman!reader | ollie bearman x oldersister!reader

word count: 10k

warnings: mentions of food, specific clothing/outfits detailed but no specific body descriptions used, tooth rotting fluff, charles and reader being awkward and cheesy, lots of giggling, charles and y/n are just two shy babies who kiss softly, pretty emotional scene where y/n and ollie are the cutest siblings taglist: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @arieslost @weekendlusting

You groaned as your peaceful sleep was disturbed, but by what exactly you weren’t sure. You rolled over, eyes slowly blinking at the way the morning light was pouring through the curtains. Oh. Your phone was ringing. You stretched out an arm to grab your phone from where it had been charging on the bedside table all night. Just who was calling and waking you up? You winced as your phone screen shone far too brightly for your poor eyes. Reading the caller ID you huffed and threw your phone onto the bed next to you, before throwing an arm over your eyes to go back to sleep. Sometimes your brother could be so annoying.

Your phone stopped ringing and in the silence you felt yourself gently slipping back into sleep. Until the ringing started again, growling you felt around for your phone before answering with a short tone, “What Ols? I was asleeeeep…” You whined,  “Turn your camera on!” Ollie practically yelled at you. You shut your eyes with a groan, doing as he asked, “Ollie stop shouting-” “Ferrari called.” You stopped at his interruption and sat up suddenly, wide awake as you stared at your little brother, “W-wha…?” “I’m driving for them. This weekend. Carlos is sick and so I’m standing in for him.” Ollie stared at you, practically vibrating on the spot with how excited he was. 

“What the fuck Ollie?!” You gaped at your phone, tears already welling up in your eyes, “Are you serious?” Your brother’s laugh rang through the speaker and you watched as he nodded on screen, “Yeah I just got the call!” “Ols this is insane…” Your voice trailed off as he beamed at you, “I’m shaking to be honest… is that weird? I feel like that’s weird-” “Uh you just got a call from Ferrari that you’re driving in F1 this weekend, I think it’s pretty normal all things considered.” You reasoned, he released a shaky exhale, “You’ll come and watch from the garage with Dad right?” “Obviously, dumbass.” He stuck his tongue out childishly as you checked the time, “I guess we’ll be there in like an hour?” You paused for a moment, “Hey Ollie?” “Hmm?” You smiled at the way his excitement was so visible, “I’m really proud of you, you know that right?” “I love you.” Was all he said in reply, “Love you too stinky, now go eat some breakfast! I’ll be there soon.” You clicked ‘end call’ and sat on your hotel bed in silence. What an insane weekend. You didn’t think you could get any prouder of him after his amazing performance in F2 and gaining that all important P1 position and yet here you were about to dress in Ferrari red and watch your brother race one of the most famous F1 circuits in the world for one of the top teams. 

You fell back against the pillows with a squeal, kicking your legs and giggling in excitement. You grabbed your phone and texted your Dad,

Jumping out of bed you quickly showered before thanking whatever higher power was out there that you’d packed some cute red clothing options this time round including your vintage Ferrari jacket. You grabbed a pair of your favourite jeans and a plain white t-shirt before quickly showering and fixing your hair. After getting dressed and finishing your routine you made sure to grab your bag and you were off to the track. 

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

You were used to being in the garages for the F2 races, you’d been to more than your fair share of them to support Ollie, but this was another level. The amount of people; mechanics, PR, sponsors, supporters, engineers, photographers. Your ears were already ringing and you hadn’t even heard the cars yet. A shout of your name grabbed your attention and you turned in the garage to see your brother hurtling towards you, “Y/N!!” You were practically winded as he hugged you tightly, “I’m so glad you’re here!” “Hey stinky.” You wrapped your arms around him, “Oooooo bear hug!” You joked. Ever since you could remember it had been a running joke in your family to call every hug a bear hug, after your last name. You often joked that no one could give hugs like the Bearman family, and only you and your family members could give a certified ‘bear hug’.  “How you feeling?” Ollie stood back up straight, fixing his cap, “Excited!” “Good.” He nodded at your jacket, “Bet you’re glad you brought that now!” You laughed, “Maybe I subconsciously knew…” A cough from behind you made you spin round and you gasped as a man stood right behind you, “May I please get past you? Thank you.” You felt him skim past your back and your knees practically melted at the slight accent and lilt in his voice, your eyes followed him as he walked to the other side of the garage to talk to some of the mechanics. Ollie gave a snort from beside you, “Hellooooo? Earth to Y/N!” His hand waved in front of your face and you slapped it away, looking at him with wide eyes, “Ollie. That was Charles Leclerc. The Charles Leclerc just spoke to me.” 

Charles exhaled almost nervously as he walked past you. He had no clue who you were but he wanted to find out. You’d immediately caught his eye as soon as he’d walked into the garage and now he was hooked. He turned back subtly to look at you and felt his stomach sink as he watched you laugh with Ollie. Of course a pretty girl like you would already be taken. In your Ferrari jacket his mind started racing with thoughts of how you’d look with his number on your back or on your cap. Wait what? He didn’t even know you and he was fantasising about you. Clearly you were someone important to his new junior teammate and he needed to focus on the task at hand. 

“You know you’re drooling,” Your brother joked and you hissed at him, punching his shoulder, barely taking your eyes off of Charles. Ollie rolled his eyes, “In my excitement I forgot about your little crush-,” A slap to his stomach had him doubling over and shutting up as you glared at him. “It’s not a crush!” You defended, “I just… respect him as a driver.” He scoffed, “Yeah right. Well when you’re done fangirling, I need your help.” You shook your head to clear your daydreams and turned to him, “What do you need?” 

Your brother beckoned you to follow him back through the garage. Weaving between people and winding your way through the halls, he opened the door of his driver’s room and sank down onto the small couch that had been placed there. You watched as for a second his excited demeanour dropped, a hint of nervousness peeking through. He fumbled with his hands, cracking and clicking his knuckles, thumb absentmindedly scratching over the back of his hand. You sat down next to him and said nothing, just let your hand fall on top of his and give a gentle squeeze, “You’ll be fine.” With that one sentence you simply sat in silence. Ollie’s head dropped to your shoulder and you rested your head on his, understanding he just needed you there. All day he’d acted like he wasn’t nervous. He’d remained cool as a cucumber in front of the cameras and media, he’d sat through interview after interview, he’d met far too many people to remember who they actually all were, he was doing his best to get to grips with a new car after just one practice session and he had still not shown any signs of nervousness where the public or potential F1 employers could see. But you knew. Here in this room he wasn’t Ollie Bearman, F1 rookie or Ferrari's weekend hero, he was just your little brother and you’d give him that safe space as long as he needed. 

You weren’t sure how long had passed just sitting on the couch but the hubbub and buzz of noise outside seemed to have increased even though it was muffled by the thin walls of the driver’s room. Ollie had since shifted to half-lie on the couch and you could see he’d fallen asleep, dozing before he needed to get in the car and focus for qualifying. You knew it was your brother’s way of getting the track ingrained in his head, so you wouldn’t disturb him yet.  A knock pulled you from your reverie and you were quick to head to the door so they wouldn’t knock again and wake Ollie up. You opened the door a crack and poked your head out, “Yes? Oh-” You blinked up and saw two green eyes staring back at yours, “Hi? I thought Ollie would be in here?” You heard your brother groan on the couch behind you clearly disturbed by the talking and so you quickly exited the room, making sure to quietly close the door behind you. “He is! He’s just taking a nap!” You explained with what you hoped was a friendly and not-too-creepy smile. Charles nodded in understanding, “I bet it’s been a pretty intense weekend.” You gave a small laugh, nodding, “Yeah it has been for all of us!” Charles found himself getting a little flustered at your smile. When he’d knocked the door he hadn’t expected the pretty girl he’d seen earlier to answer. It had taken him a few seconds to psych himself up to even ask you if he could pass earlier and now here he was face-to-face with you in his teammate’s room doorway. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this chance but he would not let it go to waste! 

“How are you finding it so far?” His heart skipped a beat as your face lit up, “It’s incredible! Definitely a step up from F2.” Ah so you’d been supporting Ollie for a long time. A best friend? Maybe a girlfriend? High school sweethearts? “So not your first time at a race then?” Charles asked curiously, “Definitely not! I don’t think I’ve ever missed one of Ol’s races since he got into F2.” Charles groaned internally, clearly you were off limits, but did his best to look interested. You gave a giggle at the impressed face Charles made, “That’s certainly dedication!” You nodded, “Of course!” “It’s good you get to be here for his first F1 weekend then. You seem like a very important person to him…” Charles gave a subtle dig for information and you were none the wiser to his motives, “Well he’s my little brother so of course I would be!” Charles froze, Ollie was your what? You were his sister? Charles wasn’t sure if that thought made him more nervous or more relieved. “You’re Ollie’s sister?” He asked incredulously, “Yes…” You replied hesitantly, unsure why his reaction was so serious. Charles felt himself exhaling in relief before he looked at your face, an eyebrow raised and your arms crossed, “Is that so unbelievable? I mean I know we don't look as alike as other siblings but...” He shook his head, 

“No, no!” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and looked away, not wanting to see your reaction to his next statement, “I just uhhh, I thought you might have been a girlfriend or something…” You couldn’t help the way the laughter tipped out of you, “Ew! No way!” You held a hand out to Charles, “Hi, I’m Y/N Bearman.” You emphasised your surname and Charles felt a grin stretching across his face that matched your own, “Charles.” You sighed internally at the sight of his dimples popping out and resisted the urge to poke them. “I actually noticed you earlier and I thought you were far too pretty to be any regular garage guest.” You giggled at his bold flirting, “Well I’m glad that you noticed me back then… There was no way someone as good looking as you can walk around without grabbing attention… Especially in the red suit…” With a wink, Charles found himself speechless, not something that was a common occurrence, especially when it came to flirting and talking to women, but he loved it.  “So now we’ve cleared up that little mishap, could I maybe get your num–”

The door to the room behind you opening caught your attention and both you and Charles watched as Ollie appeared, stretching and inhaling deeply, “Oh there you are.” Charles felt his stomach flip with anxiety, hoping Ollie hadn’t heard him flirting with you. That would not look good for him or help his teammate's mental state. But damn, if he wasn’t more than a little disappointed… You seemed to have recovered quite well though, brushing off the previous conversation easily, “Good morning sunshine, sleep well?” “Mhmm,” Ollie leaned against you and nodded, “I needed that.” “We all need a pre-race nap sometimes,” Hearing Charles' voice caused Ollie to wake up fully, standing upright as he acknowledged the older driver. 

“You’ll be fine mate.” Charles placed a hand on Ollie’s shoulder and squeezed, “I actually came to find you, thought I could talk you through how to handle some of the corners with the steering?” Ollie gave him a look of appreciation and together they headed back towards the garage. You felt yourself melt that Charles was doing his best to help your little brother and you watched with a dopey grin on your face as the two of them made their way down the hallway, “I’m gonna go find dad!” Ollie waved at you to signal he’d heard you before he was gone. 

You took a moment, going back into the room and closing the door behind you. Holy shit you’d just had an entire conversation with Charles Leclerc, he had called you pretty and was he about to ask for your number? You huffed and rolled your eyes. Your brother had the shittiest timing sometimes. 

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

With big red headphones on, you anxiously watched the screen. Your hands were clasped in front of you and you nervously brought them up to your face, almost not wanting to watch just in case anything went wrong. You got nervous watching Ollie every time he raced, but this weekend the stakes were higher and your nerves were more frazzled. Q1 had gone well but now the pressure was on. Pace was being set and each car seemed to be lapping faster and faster. You turned to look at your Dad who didn’t look any better than you. You reached across and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. He smiled at you before you both turned your attention back to the big screens at the back of the garage. As your brother set out on his flying lap you found yourself yelling encouragement along with the mechanics and engineers in the garage, despite the fact he couldn’t hear you. “Come on Ollie!” You looked at the times up on the board already and willed your brother to get even a tenth of a second off their times. 

You couldn’t have cared less about his time though as long as he made it back safely. You watched your brother’s car fly across the finish line and you waited with bated breath for the confirmation of his time to come through. You felt your dad’s hand squeeze yours before you were both cursing under your breath, 0.036 seconds. That’s all there was in it. You felt your Dad wrap you up in a hug, exhaling in relief that your brother had made it through qualifying safely. 

You knew he’d be beating himself up when he came back to the garage and you took the bright Ferrari red headphones off your head, “Dad, I’m gonna go and wait for him,” Your dad nodded, already in conversation with some of the Ferrari engineers about how they could make race day easier for Ollie. You headed to his room, wanting to be there when he got back and you’d barely taken a seat before the door swung open and in came a slightly tense looking Ollie. “I know you’re going to tell me I did a good job and I appreciate that but I’m almost more frustrated that it was so close.” He sighed and you rubbed his shoulder comfortingly as he took a seat next to you, “I’m proud of you Ols.” He smiled gratefully as the door was pushed open an inch, “Uh… hello?” “Charles?” You were confused as the Monegasque man’s head poked round the door and he nodded at Ollie, “Solid drive mate!” Ollie grumbled next to you and you whacked his thigh, “Ow!” He huffed at you, and you glared at him as you tilted your head in Charles direction, “Sorry, thank you Charles.” Charles gave a laugh, “It’s okay, it happens to the best of us.” Another knock sounded through the room and one of Ollie’s engineers called for him to go and discuss some seat adjustments for the race. You stood up as he went to leave, “Hey! If you think I’m not giving you a bear hug after all that, you’re very much mistaken.” Ollie laughed and turned back round, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you wrapped yours around his waist, squeezing slightly and hoping he could feel just how proud you were, “Love you stinky.” “Love you too dummy” He pulled away and left the room, closing the door behind him, 

“Bear hug?” You looked at Charles who stood there with a slight smile across his face and a raised eyebrow, “Mhmm! They’re very special and you actually can’t give them without the necessary qualifications.” “Ah.” Charles said seriously, “And what qualifications are those?” You giggled, “The Bearman surname!” Charles felt a laugh rumble up from deep in his chest at your giggle. God you were spellbinding. “Your brother did an amazing job today.” You smiled in appreciation, speaking genuinely,

“Thank you.” “What are you up to this evening then?” “Oh uhhh… well I’ve been watching a new series recently so probably just watching a couple of episodes and maybe ordering room service…” You facepalmed internally at how boring you were making yourself sound to an F1 driver, “Sorry that probably sounds kinda sad huh?” Charles shook his head and waved his hands to emphasise himself, “No, no! It actually sounds… pretty nice…” For the briefest moment you considered how to reply before your mouth was opening and you couldn’t stop yourself, “You’re welcome to join me if you want?” you froze. Oh fuck. Had you just invited Charles Leclerc to binge watch Netflix with you and eat off the room service menu while you wore sweatpants and a crusty old t-shirt? “You don’t have to-” “I would love to-” “Oh.” You nervously giggled at each other before your eyes dropped to the floor, too shy to keep looking at him. “I would love to join you… if that’s okay?” You nodded enthusiastically, "Of course!” “Give me your number and I’ll text you when I’m on my way?" He held his phone out to you and you nodded, typing your number in and handing it back to him, “Great! You guys are staying at the same hotel as us tonight right?” You made a noise of confirmation, “Mhmm, they moved us for the weekend. I-I’m in room 604” You could have sworn Charles blushed as you said your room number. 

You were so flustered that it appeared your brain wasn’t working correctly, your tongue getting tied as you tried to continue the conversation, “Uh, you don’t need to bring anything, clothing is optional.” “Excuse me?!” Charles froze as he stared at you. Did you just tell him that clothing was optional? He didn’t think you were that bold, or that you had an angle. His mind drifted to the thought of you opening the door naked for the quickest second before you realised you mistake and pulled him out of his thoughts, “Fuck no! I meant comfy clothing is optional! Like you can wear whatever, like sweatpants or even pyjamas if you wanted to, or-or-or if you really wanted you uhhh you could wear no clothes I guess but- wait no this isn’t me trying to get you naked I promise!” You finished your ramble panicking just as a loud laugh burst out of Charles. Your head dropped into your hands and you whined in embarrassment as Charles' hands found his knees, unable to stand up straight at how hard he was laughing. “Fuck you’re cute.” You inhaled sharply, eyes shooting down to the floor and biting your lip softly through a smile, “Oh?” “Mhmm” You felt your cheeks heat up as it sunk in that he’d called you cute, after you’d embarrassed yourself no less! “Anyway…” Charles attempted to move the conversation forward, desperate to make you gasp again like you had a moment ago, “I’ll be there later,” He moved towards the door, leaning in as he did so “I hope clothing is optional for you too.” And with a brush of his shoulder against yours he was gone. Noise from the hallway and nearby garages poured in through the open door and you didn’t move until Ollie came back, “What happened to you?” “N-nothing! Just talked with Charles a bit.” Ollie wiggled his eyebrows and you scoffed giving him a shove, “Come on, I’m done so we’re gonna go back to the hotel! I need sleep.”

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You rushed around your hotel room, ensuring any stray socks or underwear were tucked away in your case and any possible embarrassing items were safely hidden out of sight. Thankfully you'd found a slightly less crusty and slightly less old t-shirt in your suitcase and you'd thrown that on over over some shorts that were a considerably more socially acceptable choice than your tattered travel sweatpants.

Your eyes swept around the room and gave one final check. Charles had texted five minutes ago to say that he was on his way up and so you knew there would be a knock at the door any second. Grabbing some extra pillows from the closet, you placed them on the bed and pulled up Netflix just in time for the door to sound. “Coming!” You raced over to the door before stopping, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, checking your appearance one last time in the mirror. You opened the door, “Do you have a spare toothbrush?” “Ollie?!” “Yes…? It’s me? Your brother?” Ollie looked at you suspiciously as you stuck your head out of the door and looked up and down the corridor, “Are you expecting someone?” You choked on air, “Me?! Expecting someone? Pfft, no!” Though you had been thanking those higher powers earlier in the day, you now cursed them out as at the end of the corridor the elevator dinged, both yours and Ollie’s heads snapped to look as the doors opened and there stood Charles. Ollie looked at you and gave a laugh, “Not expecting anyone, hmm?” Your eyes widened. “He’s not here for me!” Ollie crossed his arms and looked at you expectantly, “Oh no?” You felt your heart race as Charles came down the corridor. You sighed and looked at Ollie, trying to sense how he felt about it, “If it makes you mad or upset or uncomfortable then no, he's not here for me.” 

Charles approached the two of you and slowed his pace, sensing a conversation was happening that he didn’t need to hear, but still he couldn’t deny that he was curious. It was obvious you were talking about him. Ollie’s arms dropped to grab your shoulders, “Y/N, you’ve already given up an insane amount for me to be able to pursue this… Why would I ever be mad about you wanting a fun date night?” You pursed your lips, “It’s not a date.” Ollie’s facial expression dead panned, “Yuh huh, okay, and I’m gonna win the race tomorrow.” You flicked his forehead and heard Charles stifle a laugh to the side. “Just wait here, I’ll get you the toothbrush.” You grumbled going back into the hotel room. Charles coughed nervously as he stood in front of Ollie. Though he was younger than Charles, he was taller and Charles found the way he was staring at him ever so slightly intimidating. “Don’t keep her up late, don’t do anything to upset her and if you make her cry I’ll turn you into the wall tomorrow.” Ollie glared at him and Charles chuckled nervously, “Noted. I would never want to make her cry,” Ollie watched as Charles stared after you with a dopey smile, “I do wanna make her smile though, her smile is pretty.” Ollie coughed a laugh into his hand, Charles was seemingly already down bad and he knew you were too. “Can I ask a question?” Ollie nodded, “Shoot.” “What did you mean by she’s given up a lot for you?” Ollie sighed, shuffling his feet almost uncomfortably. “Dad couldn’t travel with me because of work, Mum couldn’t leave our other siblings at home because they were too young so it was Y/N that moved around with me and travelled with me.” Charles nodded, encouraging Ollie to continue, “She didn’t go on dates or go out clubbing with friends or get a boyfriend because she left it all behind for me. She even decided to not go to uni... She says she doesn’t mind but…” He trailed off, “You still feel bad?” Charles finished for him. Ollie shrugged, “Wouldn’t you? She says she got to travel more than anyone else her age and got to experience tons of stuff while seeing the world so I guess to her it doesn’t matter as much.” Charles hummed, starting to understand just how close you and Ollie were. “You know when Arthur got sick last year it was Y/N that took care of him and drove him to the hospital?” Charles head whipped up to look at Ollie, “That was Y/N?” “Yep. She drove him to the hospital and stayed with him all night, then brought him back home the next day. She made him soup and helped him take all his medicine on time and stuff.” Charles found his heart growing even warmer. He’d remembered how panicked both he and his mother had been when they learned the youngest Leclerc was extremely unwell, until his mother had received a call to say someone was looking after him - now he knew it was you! Ollie smiled to himself, glad that in some roundabout way he was now able to do something for you. It was clear you and Charles were already both smitten with each other. “Got it!” You reappeared at the door and flourished the toothbrush under his nose. “Thank you!” “Mhmm! What were you guys talking about?” “Race strategies-” “The room service menu-” Your eyes narrowed slightly as they gave different answers at the same time and you looked between them, “O…kay…? Cool… Well, you need to relax.” You gave Ollie a look and he saluted, turning round and heading back to his room a few doors down, “Yes coach!” You shook your head before turning to Charles and opening the door wider, “You coming in?”

He smiled and made his way into your room, noting how you’d added a few little touches here and there to make it feel like home even though you were thousands of miles away, “Cute pictures,” Charles wandered over to the vanity where you had put up some small pictures of your family and friends at home, pictures of you and Ollie at various tourist spots round the world and a few family pets. “It makes the distance a little less… distance-y.” “I get it.” “Soooo uhhh…” You stood in the middle of the room and nervously kicked your foot into the floor, “I see we both decided to wear clothes.” Charles smirked and you couldn’t help the chuckle that burst out, “Indeed we did.” “I can’t pretend I’m not slightly disappointed…” He gave you his best attempt at a wink and you hid a smile behind your hand, “I’m still working on it…” He huffed. As he stood there pouting you took in the sight of him in front of you. Dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a white sweatshirt he looked like the epitome of cosy soft boyfriend vibes. “Are you hungry?” Charles took the lead and you were internally thankful for that. “Kind of? We could have a look and see what takes our fancy? Although I’m pretty sure that the majority of the items listed are not approved by your PT…” Charles waved you off, “We all break our diets more regularly than you’d except.” “Tell me about it… I keep having to remind Ollie that chicken nuggets are not nutritious and healthy all the time.” Charles tipped his head back and let out a laugh and you found yourself unable to stop giggling along with him. The laughter eased the remaining tension and you settled onto the bed, patting the spot next to you to encourage him to sit. 

The two of you sat on the bed, perusing the menu and selecting what you wanted before he called down to order it. While you waited you talked about anything and everything. The race tomorrow, how warm it was in Jeddah, your favourite places you’d travelled to, musicians you listened to regularly. You found yourself falling into conversation with him so easily, it was difficult to remember that you’d only known each other for a few hours. When the food arrived Charles was firm in getting you to stay sat down while he answered the door, determined to treat you like a princess.

“Charles, I can walk to the door!” You giggled, “Non! You will wait here and I will go.” He bowed before he walked to the door and you rolled your eyes, a smile plastered across your face. “Here you are, madame, your food.” “Why thank you kind sir.” Taking the plate from him you fluffed up the pillow behind you, clicking on your laptop to reload Netflix. “What do you feel like watching? Drive to Survive?” You asked, doing your best to hold in your laughter when Charles’ head shot up, looking ever so slightly traumatised, “Absolutely not!” You fell into laughter as he climbed onto the bed next to you, “How about a Studio Ghibli movie?” he nodded, taking a bite of his food, “The music is beautiful! I think you’d really like it!” “Let’s do it!” You nodded, clicking on Howl’s Moving Castle and loading it up. 

The two of you watched the movie in silence for a while and you watched as Charles’ fingers tapped along in time with the rhythm of the music. You felt yourself getting swept up in the story, not even noticing Charles’ eyes on you. “I love this part!” You sat up a little and Charles followed suit, subtly moving his arm to rest behind you. You glanced around to see his hand almost over your shoulder and you felt your cheeks heat up quickly. “S-sorry!” He went to move, “N-no, it’s okay…” You looked at him and moved a little closer until your thigh was touching his and his arm was fully around you. Charles smiled down at you as you settled back down and got comfy. God he could get used to this… He daydreamed for a second about getting to do this with you after every race weekend. For the rest of the film, you stayed firmly in Charles embrace, even daring to place one of your hands in his as the characters on screen also held hands. Soft smiles and shy glances were all you exchanged occasionally. You did your absolute best to fight the wave of sleepiness threatening to overtake you but with the heat from Charles’ body and the cosy bed and the soft music of the film, you couldn’t help the way your eyes slipped shut. Your head dropped to rest between his shoulder and chest as the credits rolled and Charles looked down as best he could to see you asleep. He smiled to himself, refusing to move even when his shoulder started to cramp up. He looked at the clock on the wall across the room and realised he had better sleep. After all, he still had a race to drive. He slowly shuffled, careful to support your head as he laid you down on the pillow. You sighed in your sleep and shuffled closer to him, seeking out the warmth he provided. Charles found himself facing an internal battle. Did he stay and risk you feeling uncomfortable and offended or leave and risk you feeling upset he didn’t stay? As he debated the correct answer, you made the decision for him. Half-awake you tugged on the sleeve of his sweater. “Don’t go… warm…” You whined and he completely melted, sliding onto the bed next to you and lying on his back. You felt his heart race as you cuddled into his side and rested your head on his chest. Charles gently ran his hand up and down your arm soothingly as you dozed on his chest. “Hey Y/N?” He said lowly, “Mhmm?” You blinked sleepily, “Would it be okay if I kissed your forehead amour?” You nodded, “More than okay,” With a contented sigh, you relaxed once more, Charles leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. There was a pause before he leant down to kiss your forehead again, only to find his lips against yours. The two of you pulled apart quickly, you were now wide awake and sat up next to him while he led there in shock, eyes wide. If you weren’t so surprised, you probably would have laughed at the way Charles lips almost seemed stuck in a pout before he raced to sit up and apologise, “Fuck I’m so sorry!” He cried, “You’re sorry? I’m sorry!” Your eyes mirrored his, “I shouldn’t have just leaned down to kiss you again.” “It’s okay Charles really… I…” You went quiet for a moment and he gently reached for your hand, “What is it?” You bit your lip, not daring to look at him. “I-I…” “Take your time amour.” He smiled at you encouragingly as his thumb gently rubbed over the back of your hand, “I kind of liked it…” You whispered, eyes squeezing shut, “Only kind of?” He asked, genuinely, not wanting to scare you. “C-can we try again?” You opened your eyes and felt him gently tilt your chin to look up at him, “You want to try again?” You nodded and Charles shook his head, “Non mon ange, I need to hear you say it. I’m not going to kiss you without you telling me it’s okay-” “Please. Charles. I want you to kiss me… I just might not be very good at it, you see I haven’t really had much practice so please forgive me if its bad…”

Any remaining words died on your tongue as Charles cupped your face with the hand that had been holding your chin and his other arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you a little closer to him. “Just follow my lead ma belle.” Your eyes fluttered closed as his breath swept across your lips. You expected to feel his lips against yours but you were pleasantly surprised at the feeling of his lips kissing your forehead once more. Your eyes stayed shut as he pressed a soft kiss to one cheek, then the other. A quick peck to the nose left your giggling, before he placed a kiss to your jawline that left you breathless, “Please… Charles…” His lips were almost on yours again and you felt them brush yours slightly as he spoke, “Please what mon ange?” “Kiss me.” Any little part of you that had been frustrated by his teasing only moments ago was certainly glad of it now. It made the moment his lips touched yours all that much sweeter. Any nerves melted away as he held you gently.

There was no heavy panting or biting, no licking or sucking. Just his lips caressing yours. Your head spun as he finally pulled away to let you take a breath just for a moment. You chased his lips, not quite ready to let him go yet and he let out a contented hum at the way you pressed your lips to him once more. He swore he fell even harder when you smiled into the kiss. You gasped when he pulled you into his lap and the kiss fell apart as you both dissolved into giggles. Your tummy flipped in the most delightful way as his nose gently rubbed against yours, “Was that okay?” Your hands linked around the back of his head and found the short hair there, gently threading your fingers through and twisting it round. You leaned down to whisper, “My turn…” His eyes closed, blissfully as you traced your own kisses across his face, in awe of the way his long lashes sat on his cheeks. You placed a small kiss on top of the freckle on his cheek and giggled at the way his stubble tickled your nose and lips, he opened his eyes and watched your wiggling your nose, “Tickles.” He placed his hands on your hips and softly rubbed his thumbs just under your shirt. You smiled down at him and nodded, “Words ma belle.” “Yes Charles, you can.” He smiled up at you and pouted to ask for a kiss, “Merci ma belle.” He slid his hands under your shirt to gently hold your hips and feel the soft skin there. You rested your head on his shoulder, enjoying the closeness and the comfort he was providing. “I’m so glad I asked you to come over.” A kiss to your forehead was your answer, “Me too…”

Neither of you moved for a few minutes, just feeling each other breathe. Feeling how your heart rates slowed after racing from the excitement of kissing. You hadn’t even noticed yourself getting sleepy again but Charles had. “Ma belle, I need to go…” You nodded but didn’t move, Charles chuckled, “Ma belle?” “Do you have to?” Charles cooed at how sleepy you sounded, “If I stay here I won’t sleep, I’ll just want to kiss you and hold you all night and I have a race tomorrow.” You conceded and lifted your head but remained in his lap, “That was actually my plan.” Charles head tilted, “Distract the competition so Ollie can sneak through.” Charles head dropped to your collarbone with a laugh, “So sneaky mon ange…” You nodded, climbing off of his lap and taking a seat next to him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stood up but found himself unable to help leaning back down to kiss you just once… twice… three times more. You pushed his chest and smiled, “Go Charles! I’ll see you in the morning.” He let himself out of your room and as soon as the door had closed you were squealing into your pillow, giddy with excitement and stomach full of butterflies.

And if Charles did the same thing when he got back to his room? Well that was his business.

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“Good morning!” “You are far too happy this morning. What happened with Charles? Did you kiiiiiiiiss him?” You glared at Ollie who stood in the door of your hotel room making kissy faces at you. “Whatever happened between me and Charles is between us.” You grabbed your bag and headed towards the elevator at the end of the hallway, Ollie easily falling into step beside you, “So something did happen?” “Maybe! I don’t see how it’s any of your business anyway.” Your brother knocked his shoulder into yours, turning serious, “It’s not. It’s just nice to see you so happy.” You stood in front of the elevator doors and turned to Ollie, “Thanks Ols.” “But also I need to know if I need to crash him into the wall today.” “hUH?!”  

When you reached the Ferrari garage, you were excited to support your brother but also excited to see Charles again. You spotted him not long after entering the garage, his back was to you but even seeing the back of his head was enough to send you into a smile that alerted everyone in the near vicinity that you had it bad for the man wearing number 16. One of the mechanics stood with him greeted Ollie and Charles turned round, face breaking into an identical grin at the sight of you in a Ferrari red dress. Your Dad elbowed you, “Is there something going on I need to know about? Spill the tea bestie” He wiggled his eyebrows and you snorted, leaning into him and bumping your head against his shoulder affectionately, “There’s no tea to spill dad, and Ollie, stop teaching Dad phrases you think he needs to know!” Your Dad and Ollie laughed as you made your way over to Charles, “Hi.” “Hi. You look beautiful.” Charles found himself breathless as he took in your full appearance. “Did you get any sleep?” A goofy grin crept across his face, “Filled with dreams of you ma belle, I slept wonderfully. And you?” You nodded, “Something similar I guess…” “You guess?” “Mhmm…” You gasped as you felt his hand slowly grab yours, his fingers interlocking with yours, “Charles! What if someone sees?” “I don’t mind people seeing me holding hands with the prettiest girl at the race today.” You gently tapped his chest and shook your head, “You’re so silly.” You looked across the garage as you heard Ollie’s laugh and Charles’ face turned serious, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze to get your attention, “I actually wanted to say that I totally understand that you’re here for Ollie today. It’s lovely to see you but I’m not going to take you away from supporting your brother when he needs you.” You gave his hand a squeeze back in appreciation, “Thank you Charles. We’ll catch up later though! Good luck, race safe!” 

Charles felt his cheek turning as red as his car as you placed a gentle kiss to his cheek before darting across the garage with a giggle. He stared after you with a dumb lovestruck look on his face, one hand coming up to hold his cheek, “Oh my friend, you have it bad, no?” Charles whirled round to see Carlos and some of the engineers staring at him, amused looks on their faces. “I wish they hadn’t let you leave the hospital today.” Carlos laughed, wincing slightly as he did so, “And miss our little Charles in love? No way! This is more entertaining than the race will be.” 

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You stood with Ollie in the garage as he waited until the last second to get in the car. “You ready?” He inhaled, “I guess we’ll find out huh? It’s now or never…” You smiled at him, handing him his helmet. You had your pre-race routine with Ollie that consisted of making sure he had one last sip of water, helping him put his helmet on before kissing where his forehead would be inside the helmet and finally a bear hug. You’d done it before every race since he was in his karting days and his debut F1 race would be no different. Charles caught sight of this and smiled. It was good that the young driver had such a great support system. In a slightly weird way he was almost envious that he didn't have someone to do those things for him. He watched as you held Ollie's bottle up to his lips before placing it to the side, buckling his helmet up once it was on his head. Charles' heart grew warm as he watched Ollie bend down so you could reach to kiss his forehead. You and Ollie were unaware of your audience, just completely in your own little bubble. "Can't believe I have to bend for you to reach my forehead now." It was a throwaway comment from Ollie but it left you with tears welling up in your eyes. Oh how he'd grown. When this ritual first started he was just a kid. Far shorter than you, almost looking too small for his kart. He had been so young but his dreams were big. You felt your bottom lip quiver as you watched your brother's dreams become reality in front of your eyes. You knew he felt guilty that you'd given so much up. "Bear hug?" You asked, holding your arms out. Ollie wrapped you up in the tightest hug he could manage, "Thank you." He didn't need to say what for. You knew. "If I had to, I'd do it all over again." He squeezed you just a little more before he was pulling away and climbing into that red car that he'd long dreamed of. You felt your dad come alongside you and pull you into his side, the two of you both misty-eyed with tearful smiles.

Watching his car leave the garage for the grid you couldn't help the way you looked around for Charles. You caught sight of him and approached him, "Are you alright ma belle?" You wiped your eyes hastily, "Yeah, just a little overwhelmed?" Charles gave an understanding nod, "It makes perfect sense mon ange." You cleared your throat, "But I have another pre-race ritual to complete." Charles eyes shot to yours, "unless you already have one and then I won't interfere-" "Please." You gave him a soft smile and took his helmet from him to allow him to do up his suit properly, "What do you still need to do?" Charles looked almost shy as he gave his request, "Could you help me put my helmet on?" Your cheeks felt warm as you nodded, gently tugging on his helmet to pull it down when he grabbed your wrists, "Wait." "What?" Your eyes searched his, worried you'd somehow hurt him or done it wrong, his face broke into a grin, "Can I get a kiss before my helmet goes on?" You looked around the garage, everyone busy with their own jobs and not really paying you much attention. "Are you sure?" Charles nodded. You looked for a small space of skin not covered by his balaclava and pressed a light kiss to his cheek just under his eye. His eyes shut as if he was savouring the moment before he nodded at you to pull his helmet down. He watched your face contort into an expression of concentration as you buckled his helmet up with so much precision and care. "What comes next?" "Help me with my gloves?" His voice was muffled through the helmet, you nodded and took his gloves from him. Helping him put one on and squeezing that hand before switching to the other one. "Can I suggest one last thing?" He nodded, "I think you should have a bear hug." You couldn't see his smile through his helmet but the way he enthusiastically pulled you into his arms told you all you needed to know. You stood there for a moment just enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. You rested your head on his chest and sighed. His hand gently caressed up and down your back before he was being called to climb into his car. You squeezed him one last time for good measure before he was gone and off to line up for the start of the race.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

Your throat was sore from all the yelling and screaming you'd done at the screen, your legs were about to give out from the adrenaline rush and your cheeks hurt from the smiling you'd done. You had tears in your eyes again as you watched your brother cross the line in 7th for his first ever F1 grand prix. Turning to hug your dad you nodded at Carlos who sat across the garage. He gave you a warm smile and a knowing wink as the garage began rushing to the podium for Charles. You were bouncing on your feet as you waited to see Ollie, Charles, either of them, both of them?

The pitlane was packed as fans, teams and reporters all swarmed down to the podium. And there, pushing his way through all of it, was Ollie. You couldn't help the scream that left your throat as you sprinted to him. Pulling him into a huge hug. "Oh my god bear." You practically sobbed, "I'm so fucking proud of you!" Ollie slid his helmet off and his face was lit up, "Oh my god that was amazing! Intense, but amazing!" You giggled as he moved his neck experimentally before wincing, "Yeah I'm gonna need a physio appointment like... as soon as possible." You let out a laugh, "Dad was already on it by about lap four don't worry!" "Thank fuck." Your brother exhaled, eyes widening dramatically. You observed the way the podium was getting increasingly busy. "Go." Ollie looked at you, "You know you want toooo..." He sang, "But..." "No buts, butts are for sitting." Ollie, closed his eyes as if he would hear no further arguments. He leant in close, "I think it would mean a lot to him too." "Ollie I can't just g-" "Excuse me, Carlos?" Ollie called to the older driver, "You're going the the podium aren't you?" Carlos motioned that he was, "Are you going to?" You looked at Ollie and he gave an encouraging nod, "Go!" You looked at Carlos, "Lead the way."

It was packed. You wondered if Carlos should really be making his way through the crowd given his condition, but they almost seemed to part for him. It certainly made things easier for you so you couldn’t complain. You stood next to Carlos right in front of the barrier underneath the podium. You were just in time. The announcer spoke Charles' name and he walked out onto the podium, he had a huge grin that stretched from cheek to cheek. He stood there for a moment before looking down at his team Charles felt his heart stop. There was no way. Was there? You were stood celebrating his podium? Charles had never wanted a podium ceremony to be over quicker in his life. He was dying to get back down there and hold you in his arms again, maybe even kiss you if he was lucky. As he was handed his trophy he looked down once more, pointing at you. To the cameras it would look like he was pointing at his mechanics, or even Carlos. But you knew. Even though he was fairly far away from you he could still see how your eyes shone up at him. The way they sparkled not just under the floodlights of the track but from the way you were just looking at him. You weren’t aware of anything around you. Not Carlos smirking at the way you and Charles watched each other, not the music, not the champagne, nor the fireworks that now exploded in the sky above Jeddah rivalling the fireworks that were going off in your tummy at the way Charles gazed at you with so much adoration. 

As soon as he could, Charles was racing off the podium and Carlos led you back to the Ferrari garage where he would soon appear. You waited, almost pacing back and forth. Ollie watched you knowingly, “You really like him huh?” You froze, “Is it that obvious?!” Ollie scoffed, “Uh? Yes!” You rolled your eyes before Carlos called your name, “Y/N you can wait in his room if you want? It’s opposite Ollie’s.” You nodded and wound your way through the now familiar corridors of Ferrari’s garage. You made it to Charles' room and settled down on the couch. Now to wait. 

You didn’t have to wait long before the door was bursting open and a champagne drenched Charles was striding across the room, placing his trophy down on the couch before sweeping you into his arms, nose tracing up your neck, “Ma belle…” “Charles! That tickles!” Charles laughed and your legs went weak as you felt his chest rumble against you. “Wanted to do this as soon as I got out of the car.” He mumbled. You gently held his face in your hands and brought his face up to look at you, “Congratulations handsome.” Charles smiled, leaning in before catching himself and stopping with a groan, “Can I kiss you? Please say yes ma belle… Please fuck… I need to kiss you, it’s all I've wanted to do since the race ended, need to kiss you, please?” “Yes, Charles.” “Thank you amour.” His lips met yours and you sighed as you tasted the sweet champagne from his lips. He was sticky and sweaty but he was so Charles. You hummed happily before he gently bit your lip, eliciting a whine from you. He growled a little at the sound before pulling away, “We need to stop ma belle.” “Awww…” You pouted and he laughed, poking the lip that was jutting out. “I’m not going to do this with you in my driver’s room of all places, especially when I’m sweaty and covered in champagne.” “I don’t know…” Your arms circled his neck as you leaned into him, “I think it’s a good look.” His hands found your hips and he couldn’t help the way his thumbs traced tiny circles.

“You know… I think you should come to F1 races more often…” “Oh?” “Mhmm” Charles looked at you, “I think your ritual got me my podium today.” You stared at him for a second before laughing, “You think so?” He pressed a final kiss to your lips and nodded, “Absolutely!” “Then I think I need to come and stand in the Ferrari garage more often.” Charles pulled you into a hug, “That sounds perfect.” 

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ BONUS INSTAGRAM POSTS

y/nbearman

Liked by olliebearman, scuderiaferrari and 23,196 others y/nbearman little weekend photodump ft. very on brand red outfits, the nicest hospitality and garage I've ever stood in, Ollie's first F1 race and post-race dinner and Dad's first TV interview for sky sports

View all 4,157 comments olliebearman Think that was definitely Dad's favourite part of the weekend ⤷ y/nbearman Papa bear for commentator 2025? Comment liked by skysportsf1 and olliebearman ⤷ olliebearman ICON

bearmanfan they have the cutest sibling relationship I swear 🥺 lalaleclerc PLS TELL ME Y'ALL ALSO SAW CHARLES LOOKING AT HER IN THE GARAGE ⤷ charleswifey omg yesssss 😭 he really thought no one was looking but there was a whole ass camera on him ⤷ y/nbearman wHAT? ⤷ lalaleclerc oops 🥹

charles_leclerc can't wait to have you in the garage again ma belle Comment liked by y/nbearman ⤷ y/nbearman looking forward to it handsome ⤷ f1f1fan wait. WHAT? ⤷ bearmanfam Y/N AND CHARLES?!

scuderiaferrari We're so glad you had a good weekend! Ollie is our new fave 🫶🏼 ⤷ charles_leclerc ouch ⤷ carlossainz55 I've been gone less than one weekend 🧍‍♂️ ⤷ y/nbearman you're so real for this admin I approve ⤷ scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️

charlesandcarlos I had no clue who this girl was until they said on the commentary that she was Ollie's sister, damn they have good genes ⤷ y/nfanpage isn't she the prettiest!! ⤷ olllie charles has good taste Comment liked by charles_leclerc ⤷ charlessss does anyone know what she does for a living? ⤷ bearmanfam it's actually so sweet 🥺 she gave up on going to uni and following her own career path for a while to travel with Ollie and support him in F2! she's basically his PA, manager, photographer, nutritionist, therapist, best friend and sister rolled into one ⤷ charlessss holy shit 🧍‍♀️ we STAN her

bearmanhug is it just me that thought we'd get a really mushy post from y/n like when Ollie finished the F2 season last year? ⤷ ferrarifan no same here ⤷ y/nbearman oh it's incoming don't worry 🤭 ⤷ ferrawri OH FUCK WE AREN'T READY

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

y/nbearman

Liked by olliebearman, charles_leclerc and 21,874 others y/nbearman to say that I'm proud of you is an understatement. you make me proud every day no matter whether you win or lose not just on the track but off too. but this weekend I'm in absolute awe of you. the results you've achieved just show the hard work and dedication you've put into this sport. I know your passion to succeed and improve will take you far! this is just the beginning of amazing things to come. forever proud of you and I've always got your back. I love you to the end of the line baby bear ❤️❤️❤️ tagged: @.olliebearman

View all 3,562 comments olliebearman love you too sun bear Comment liked by y/nbearman

bearmanfam OH MY GOD THERE'S SO MUCH TO UNPACK 😭 ⤷ bearmanfam ollie once said in an interview that his sister always makes him smile and lights up his day and that's why he calls her sun bear! she calls him baby bear because he's younger than her ⤷ charlesandcarlos I'm pretty sure she used red hearts bc he drove for Ferrari this week 🥹 Comment liked by y/nbearman ⤷ bearmanfam omg YES ❤️ ⤷ charlesandcarlos CONFIRMED ❤️

charles_leclerc superb driving today! you should absolutely be proud. keep driving like that and it won't be long until we'll be sharing the track every week @.olliebearman Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman ⤷ carlossainz55 no doubt about it!

lewishamilton amazing job today kid 💜 leclerclove The way the old photos are in black and white and the photos from the weekend are in colour like it's a new era 😭 ⤷ smoothoperatorrr omg I didn't think of that 😭😭 ⤷ charleswifeyyyy The childhood pictures are so fucking cute too 😭

landonorris great results today! can't wait to see what you do in the future! ferrariiiii "I love you to the end of the line" AS IN THE FINISH LINE?! ⤷ f1fan STOP OH MY GOD 😭😭😭 carlossssainzzz I'm not ashamed to say that I sobbed like a baby reading this post 🥹 like it's so clear that they love and support one another ⤷ scuderiaferrari we're crying too! 🥹❤️ Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman

f1fannnn all the drivers commenting their support and congratulations 😭

fanoferrari "this is just the beginning" I-🥹😭 ⤷ olsbearmannn "you make me proud every day"

maxverstappen1 An amazing drive mate!

[boyfhee]

박성훈 、COUPLE CODE

sunghoon pouts when he's jealous.

featuring ⋆ rich boy! sunghoon x fem reader

contents ⋆ light kissing, jealous sunghoon ( 1061 )

notes ⋆ brought the heat back is making me want to write jealous fics for every single member i can't do this. anyway RICH BOY HOON WLCM BACK!!!!

“you’re pouting,” you say, reaching out to grab his hand but he slides it out of yours ever so swiftly. 

“i’m not pouting,” sunghoon mumbles, not even caring to look at you as he makes long strides to a secluded corner, away from the chatter of the charity event his parents dragged him to along with themselves. 

“you’re not good at lying,” you snort, following him wherever he’s going. he gives you a little run for himself when he’s like this— literally, because you keep increasing your pace, having a hard time keeping up with him. and when you finally do, hands around his wrist to stop him. “c’mon hoon, you don’t have to be jealous,”

“jealous?” he huffs, jerking his hand out of your grip as if you’ve insulted him, the words bruising his ego. “you’re saying i am jealous? what makes you say that?”

“it’s written all over your face,” you reply with a sigh, eyes glazing over his expression and the very obvious pout that he keeps denying is there. you simply stare at him for a few seconds before shaking your head and reaching out to cup his face. “you’re jealous and you’re pouting. it’s the most adorable thing in the world,”

and sunghoon would be lying if he said those words didn’t give him butterflies, especially with the way your hands are on his cheeks, squishing them a little to make his lips jut further in a pout. 

“you don’t know what you’re saying,” he huffs in mock offence, eyes looking away from your face as if he does not like this, albeit having no attempt at pushing you away. 

you know he’s just being dramatic, fists clenched on his sides even though you know his hands are itching to wrap themselves around your waist and pull you closer. it’s cute, even though you don’t particularly enjoy seeing him upset and it’s obvious that he can sense how much fun you’re having, which makes him pout even more.

“is this about jongseong?” 

“jongseong?” his eyes narrow at your face, the said name ringing in his head again and again as he takes your hands and pulls them away from his face, although still holding him ever so gently, contrary to the look in his eyes. “you’re on a first name basis with him?”

“we’re friends,” you giggle at the way his eyes squint further at your words— and he couldn’t be more obvious with that pout on his lips. “i don’t attend these events often so dad wants me to socialise,”

“you’re socialising with the enemy,” sunghoon glares at you, prompting out a chuckle from you at his words. he frowns at your reaction, making you laugh even more.

“you hate him, i don’t,”

“boyfriend’s enemy is your enemy too. that’s the couple code,” he states bitterly, fingers slowly interlacing themselves with yours. his brows are furrowed in irritation, lips still in a never ending pout— you think you love this version of sunghoon more.

sunghoon doesn’t pout.

as he claims, most of the time, even though you know it’s not really true. he pouts when you don’t give him attention, or when he calls you in disappointment to cancel the dates because his dad wants him to assist him with work and election campaigns— you can hear that pout through the phone when he speaks. sometimes, when your phone rings up between your lazy make out sessions, he pouts again, and you have to make sure your eyes are on him as your fingers trace over his lips and cheeks while you’re trying to get over that call as soon as possible. 

even now, when you two are silent and he’s looking down, fiddling with your fingers, you notice how his lips switch between a pout and an irritated scowl, the way he huffs at how absurd it all seems to him. and sunghoon is not a very jealous man— well, not until now. you’re used to him brushing it off when you tell him about some guy trying to get your number. ‘well you turned him down and you’re here in my arms so i don’t care—’ the usual response. 

although, you know about the rivalry between him and jongseong— jay, as sunghoon would like you to address the other guy— nothing could’ve made you assume that your dear boyfriend would be jealous over just a ten minutes conversation with him. you didn’t want to make him jealous, but that doesn’t mean you’re not enjoying this little exchange. 

“no more talking to jay. he’s the worst,” he mumbles, looking up at you with the exhibition of his bruised pride in his eyes. “and no more calling him jongseong too,”

“we’re friends, hoon,”

“he was interested in you,” he insists and words get stuck in your throat. it’s not a secret that jay had tried asking you out several times. there’s no doubt he was— or is still interested in you, if there’s any chance. you wouldn’t want to make sunghoon upset over that either way.

“valid,” you nod, agreeing with him to console his shattered ego, although trying to come to a conclusion in the middle. “okay, no more talking to jay when you’re not around,”

“good,” sunghoon wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer before pressing his lips against your cheeks. “he sucks anyway,”

“true, i don’t like his attitude,” you nod in an attempt to humour him.

and he’s not exactly convinced, since you and jay have been friends ever since you changed majors last year. he doesn’t ponder over that much, pouring all his attention on you and peppering your face with tender pecks. 

“and he’s not cute like me either when he pouts,” he pulls back after capturing your lips in a chaste kiss and puts his forehead against yours. you know you two should be getting back to the event, knowing your absence will not go unnoticed by either of your parents, but sunghoon has been through a lot today— as he will say it later— and so you decide to hold him in your arms a little longer.

“of course not,” you say with a kiss on the top of his head when he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck. his continues to draw soft circles on your waist through your dress, something that makes you hug him tighter. “you’re the cutest,”

taglist

[bpmiranda]

drunk calling dbf logan while you’re out with friends and all of a sudden he shows up to take you home but you’re like absolutely NOT!! your dad would never approve of you getting on ANY motorcycle and he’s like “im your daddy rn” and he picks you up and tosses you on his bike 😭

Truth Or Dare (Logan Howlett)

A/N: 18+ f!reader, underage drinking, dom!logan, daddy!logan, small amount of suggestive smut towards end

It wasn’t your intention to call him tonight, but a game of truth or dare had ensued amongst you and your friends, and at that point it was simply unavoidable. There were rules to the game, what could be done?

“Y/N? You okay?” His gruff voice came over the phone speaker and your friends giggled, squealing about how attractive he sounded and you shushed them. “Y/N?”

“Hi, Logan,” You slur, biting your lip as you imagine that you probably just woke him up and he’s shirtless in bed. Gosh, he looks so good shirtless, you think. “I have - have a - um - a question, yes.”

Logan sighs over the phone and you can’t help bursting out into giggles. “Y/N, please tell me you’re not fucking drinking at this goddamn hour.” Your friends ‘ooo’ obnoxiously, giggling as they continue passing around the bottle of blackberry rum. “Where are you?”

“Wait, what about my question?” You pout, lying back on the couch you’re sitting on and grinning. “Listen, I was truthed or dared, right? And I - so I said truth because that’s, like, the smartest choice, and they tricked me!”

On the other line, Logan is trying really hard not to laugh at how drunk you are because you’re not even 21 yet and because if your father found out you called him and he didn’t pick you up immediately, his own ass would be on the line. “Baby, where are you?” Logan asks firmly and you basically purr over the phone.

“I like when you call me that.” You slur, twirling a strand of your hair on your finger and getting it tangled. “Why don’t you call me baby all the time?” You ask as you shake your hand out to release your finger from your hair.

“You know why,” Logan says in a low voice, wondering how much of this conversation you will remember in the morning. “Tell me where you are so I can come pick you up.”

“No, I’m having fun, Logan. Come get me in the morning and we can get pancakes!” You say decidedly before you hung up.

The night carries on with drinking and talking about Logan and other guys you and your friends think are attractive. Someone passes around a bowl of popcorn while you’re attempting to set up a movie and then you hear it. The familiar low rumbling of a motorcycle and you know exactly who is outside right now. “Fuck, he found me.” You gasp and your friends’ eyes go wide.

“Who?”

“A killer?”

“Oh, my god!” One cries.

You laugh and toss some popcorn at her. “No, dummy, my dad’s friend!” You hurriedly stumble to the light switch and turn everything off. You signal them to be quiet as you place a finger over your lips and they do the same. You can hear the heavy steps of his boots and you lean against the door as if you could barricade it. There’s a sudden loud pounding on it, and your friends scream and gasp. You roll your eyes because you realize you can’t keep a bunch of drunk girls quiet. “Come on, Y/N, let’s go!” He yells and you stifle a giggle. “I will knock this door down, come on!”

“He sounds angry.”

“You should go.”

“My parents will definitely find out we were drinking if the door is knocked down when they get back.”

With no choice left, you open the door and pout up at Logan who appears angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “Logan, I would love to go with you, but my daddy would never approve of me getting on a motorcycle.” You say only for him to grab you by the arm and drag you down the walkway to his bike. “Um, ow!”

“I’m your daddy now,” He snaps at you and your eyes well up with tears. “Get on the damn bike.” He orders and you do as he says. “Hold onto the handles.” He instructs as he sits behind you because he doesn’t trust you not to fall off in the state that you’re in.

The drive isn’t far from your friends to his house and when you are parked in his garage you start to cry softly. Logan sighs, still sitting behind you, and he gently rubs your back. “Are you - sniff - mad at me?” You ask, wiping your eyes as your head hangs sadly.

“No, baby, I’m not mad,” He says, looking at your small frame sitting in front of him as he lets the hand on your back move down to your hip. “I was just worried. Your dad’s going to be mad.” He adds with a small chuckle and you cry.

God, it shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, but he can’t help picturing you crying and sniffling like that while he’s got his cock inside you. “Logan, he’s not going to let me go to grad week with my friends if he finds out.” You sniffle, looking up and remembering you’re in his garage. “Can I sleep it off here and then you can take me back home in the morning?”

Logan’s hands are smoothing over your hips slowly, wondering if you feel him touching you or if you’re too drunk to notice. “I’m supposed to take you now. I just wanted you to eat something before we went over there cause he’s going to ground you immediately.” Logan said, his hands now softly rubbing on your thighs and you can feel his hard shaft against your ass.

“Please don’t tell.” You murmur, sitting up a little straighter so your back is pressed to his chest. Logan tenses up at your action and you look at him over your shoulder. “Please, Logan?”

Logan hums, pretending to think it over although it was never his intention to tell your dad. “How about this,” He begins, his hands sliding over the tops of your thighs as he dips his head and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I keep your secret,” His lips move onto your neck and you tilt your head to the side to give him more access. “If you keep ours.” His fingers are spreading your legs a little wider, digging into your soft thighs, and you tremble in his hold as his teeth graze your jaw. “Think you can do that for me, baby?”

“Yes, daddy.” You breathed out shakily as he slips a hand into your leggings, holding you against him by pressing his other hand into your belly.

“Good girl.”

I was not sure if you wanted full smut so I sprinkle some in at the end! Let me know what you thought:)

[navybrat817]

Give Me One More

Pairing: Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You don't need Bucky. He's going to prove you wrong. Over and over and over...

Word Count: Over 3.7k

Warnings: DUBCON to be safe, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, masturbation, established and slightly toxic relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, family drama, betrayal, threats (not against reader), loose backstory, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a bit mean, okay?).

A/N: I spoke about prisoner!Bucky ages back and I couldn't let this go. Especially not when I'm looking at that beautiful edit by the more beautiful @nixakimbo! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own (but thanks to @whisperlullaby for discussing this man with me!). Divider by the talented @saradika. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You pushed the curtain aside to look out the bedroom window, the clouds dark and thick in the sky. Your home used to be your safe haven, a place of comfort, and all you wanted to do now was escape from your prison of sorts. Not the kind of place your boyfriend, Bucky, spent time in. The bars that kept you in couldn't be seen by the naked eye.

“Can't stay in there all day,” Bucky said from the hall, his deep voice reminding you that you weren't alone.

You’d never be alone again.

“Yes, I can,” you called back. You had been in your bedroom for well over an hour since you snapped at him and left him alone in the living room. If staying in there meant avoiding him, you were fine with that.

You half expected him to stomp down the hall, but he only said, “You’re being a fucking brat.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks as anger flowed through you. “Leave me alone, asshole!” You shouted, feeling every bit like the brat he said you were.

You weren’t sure what set you off today. It could've been because you were still angry that Bucky used you. How long did it take for an empire to fall? In your case, six months.

Half a year ago, Bucky Barnes bumped into you at your favorite coffee shop. Literally. He was large, built like a powerhouse, but his grip that kept you from falling was so gentle. One look in his cerulean eyes and you were a goner. He easily charmed his way into your life and bed. He treated you like a princess, better than any boyfriend before, and you naively believed it was fate that brought you together.

You should’ve known it wasn't the beginning of a happy new chapter in your story. It was a clock winding down to your doom. More specifically, your father’s doom. Because Bucky wanted to destroy the man who helped land him in jail.

The White Wolf, a nickname for Bucky you recently learned about, wasn't a good man. Far from it and far from being a reformed criminal. He took it personally that your dad got him put behind bars for a short time. So he tore his life apart. Took his job away. Urged his friends to abandon or turn on him. Got him put in jail. Bucky even rubbed it in his face that he fucked his daughter. All in six months.

It would almost be impressive if you weren't the one living with the aftermath.

Had your dad known exactly who you were seeing, he may have tried to stop you.

“Asshole,” you muttered.

What Bucky didn't plan on was falling for you or so he said. You were, apparently, his chance at happiness. Because of that, he wouldn't let you go. And he expected you to just forgive him and move forward.

How could you forgive him?

He promised he’d hunt you down if you tried to leave him. You naturally tried and didn't get very far. The sick part was how much you enjoyed him chasing after you and bringing you back. After he fucked you where he found you.

As if he read your mind, he called out, “I know you're frustrated. Bet if you sit on my cock you'll feel better.”

Your cheeks flamed, your panties damp. Damn him for still arousing you with so little words. “Go fuck yourself.”

That actually wasn't a bad idea. He was right. You were frustrated and itching to get out of your own skin. Maybe if you got yourself off, you’d feel a little better. Not happy, but better.

“I don't need him,” you said.

That was what you told yourself as you stripped down and got on the bed. But as you ran your hands along your breasts, gasping as you moved one hand lower, it didn't feel right. The normal fire within you didn't burn. Didn't even a flicker. A raw ache instead outweighed the pleasure you tried to give yourself.

“Damn it,” you muttered.

You heard Bucky’s dark chuckle from the doorway and made the mistake of looking his way. You weren't sure how long he'd been standing there, but his cock was free from the confines of his pants and he lost his shirt at some point, too. He didn't attempt to hide the array of scars and tattoos that littered his torso. Ones you traced with your fingers and tongue more times than you could count. Back when you weren't a pawn in his game.

But if you really were a pawn, why did he have your name tattooed over his chest?

“Looks like you need a hand,” he said, brushing back his long hair as his eyes moved along your body from head to toe.

You ignored your racing heart as you said through your teeth, “Go away.”

He tore your life apart like a tornado, leaving destruction where there was once calm and beauty. Instead of letting you pick up the pieces, he continued to wreck everything around you. He broke you, too, but you were also the only thing he put back together.

The smirk he gave you was one you used to adore. “What’s wrong, princess? Still mad at me?”

You scoffed. Was he serious? “Yes, I’m fucking mad at you.”

“Still mad about the past? Or is it because you can't get out of your own head long enough to make yourself come?” He taunted, slowly stroking his thick cock. “Did you ever actually get yourself off before me? Or did you not know what an orgasm was until I gave you one?”

You watched with a lustful gaze as his hand moved up and down, your eyes not leaving the sight as you desperately tried to get some sort of relief. “I had plenty before you showed up,” you hissed, sliding a finger into your tight hole.

“You know, all you have to do is admit that I'm right: That I've ruined you and all you can think about is how good it feels when I'm fucking you. Admit it and I’ll get you off.”

Pushing another finger inside yourself, you refused to admit that he was telling the truth. Nothing felt as good as he did. And that was the problem, wasn't it? You shouldn't want or need him. Not after everything he had done to your family.

He groaned as he watched your fingers sink in. “You're so pathetic laying there. My pretty little slut wants to prove the impossible. Just wants to prove that she doesn't need me when we both know that's a fucking lie,” he grunted as his cock twitched, making you clench in want despite your anger at his words. “Better hurry up and say it. Otherwise I'm going to come all over you and you're going to be left begging to come and not get off at all.”

You whined as a tear fell from your eye. “You're an asshole. The lowest of the low.”

He chuckled as he brushed his thumb along the tip, watching as your eyes followed the motion. “Now you're just trying to hurt my feelings and that's mean, princess. That isn't you. I'm the mean one in this relationship.”

Your fingers froze as you narrowed your eyes. “Relationship? Don't you mean your prisoner?”

Your breath caught in your throat when he smirked, something darker than before. “You think you're a prisoner? You have no fucking idea. I’ve been to prison. This is a fucking walk in the park,” he said, pouring more salt in the open wound when he added, “And your dad knows all about prison now, doesn't he?”

You choked on your next breath. “How dare-”

“Relationship, prisoner, my girl. You're still fucking mine,” he snarled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “And I'm still right. So just say it. Tell me you need my cock and I'll get you off. Fuck that pretty pussy so good you cry for me. Won't even make you apologize for repeatedly calling me an asshole.”

“I wish I never met you,” you blurted out.

Guilt churned in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. Why did you still care after what he did? Why did he matter to you? “You don't mean that,” he whispered before he blinked, ice in his gaze. “You’re just being a fucking brat.”

You let out a small scream of frustration when you removed your fingers and reached for your side drawer where you kept your vibrator. If Bucky was going to keep being an asshole who wouldn't get you off, your toy would. But he didn't let you get very far. Not when he was on you in a flash, throwing the toy far behind him and pinning your wrists above your head.

His breathing was almost as heavy as yours.

“Oh no, princess. You're so confident you can come without me then that must mean you don't need any help at all coming,” he smirked, gripping your wrists tighter as you squirmed beneath him. You didn't dare look down when his cock brushed against your skin. “It's cute that you think you're stronger than I am. That sexual frustration must really be fucking with your head. I can fix that.”

“You're fucking sick. I don't… I… I don't need you,” you said, not having to see your eyes to know your pupils were blown with lust. Your tongue darted out to lick bottom lip before your gaze settled on his, challenging. “You need me more than I need you. What was it you said? That I was the best pussy you ever had? And you’d be happy to keep your cock in me all day every day?”

“Just like my cock is the best you ever had.”

You opened your legs a bit more when he clenched his jaw. “And you don't want to finish on me. You want to be in me. If it were any other guy, he'd-”

He growled when he grabbed your chin. It was a reminder of just how strong he was and how he could hurt you if he wanted to. “There are no other guys. Do you fucking hear me?”

It was your turn to smirk. Bucky was a lot of things, but he never strayed. Not once. He would forever be faithful. “You sure about that? Maybe I can't relax right now, but if you won't fuck me I’m sure I can find someone who-”

He flipped you on your stomach and gripped the back of your neck before you could finish that statement. “If you think I wouldn’t kill any guy who touches you, you’re out of your fucking mind. Keep pushing me, sweetheart. See what happens.”

You bit back a moan at the gravel in his voice as you turned your head to the side, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. It was dangerous to poke the bear, but you were past the point of caring. Especially when fury looked beautiful on him. “What's wrong, Bucky? Don't like the taste of your own medicine?”

He leaned down, his breath harsh against your ear. “I prefer the taste of your pussy. Always so good for me. You wanna hear that I need you? Fine. I fucking need you,” he rasped, biting at your earlobe. “Happy?”

“And that you’re sorry?”

“For hurting you? Yes,” he whispered, nosing along your neck. “Never meant to hurt you.”

You shuddered, almost delirious from needing to come. And the fact that he admitted that he needed you. That he was sorry for hurting you. But you weren't ready to play nice. “I'll be happier when you finally decide to fuck me, but you're just a fucking asshole, aren't you?”

He let out a slow breath. “Yeah, I'm a fucking asshole.” He nipped your earlobe roughly again in retaliation before settling between your legs and teasingly brushing the tip of his cock along your folds. “And I'll fuck you when you say you need me, too.”

You tried to push back to take him in, but he kept a firm hold on your hips. You tried to wiggle out of it, but it only brought you frustration as you groaned. “If you're really going to make me say it, don't hold your breath. You can't threaten me, Bucky. You're all talk. And guess what?” You said, smiling sweetly. “I can find another guy to fuck me better than you can.”

You couldn’t see the thunderous look in his eyes, but you heard the low and menacing chuckle in his throat. It sent chills down your spine. Maybe you pushed too far this time, but you didn’t care. He deserved it and worse.

“You're trying to piss me off and I want you to remember that you pushed me to this,” he said more to himself than you before sheathing you in one hard thrust, your mouth falling open in a cry at his sudden intrusion. “Hope you enjoy the bed since you won't even be able to walk out of this room.”

You stared at the wall, your eyes unseeing as Bucky tore you apart. Seconds passed. Minutes. Hours. The sound of his grunts from behind you filled your ears, along with the brutal slap of skin-on-skin. Your body burned, the overwhelming stretch from his cock making you lose sense of yourself. You told yourself he’d finish fucking you soon, but that felt like ages ago.

You also told yourself there was no way you’d have another orgasm, but he proved you wrong. Climax after climax, your release practically flooded around him. At this rate, you really wouldn't be able to get out of bed.

“Bucky,” you gasped, trying to grip the sheets for purchase as he pulled out and slammed back into you. “Please…”

You were boneless, exhausted, and he just kept going. “Oh, no, princess. You wanted to get off.”

Tears of ecstasy streamed down your cheeks, whimpering when you felt yourself on the cusp of another orgasm. How was that possible? How many had he given you? “Bucky, I…” you moaned as you clenched around his cock again.

He cooed, a taunting sound when you choked on a sob. “So good, but I want another.”

“I don't… ” Your eyes rolled back, your head spinning. “I can't.”

You’d seriously lost count at that point how many times you’d come. And your whimper didn't stop Bucky from mockingly cooing again. “Aww, you don't think you can? My poor little fuck doll can still talk which means she hasn't had enough yet. This pussy is so fucking wet for me, so swollen,” he taunted, reaching underneath you and flicking your overstimulated clit as a choked moan escaped you, your walls tightening around him once again. “See? Your greedy little cunt can't get enough of me.”

Why did your body need him so badly? “I can't…” you whined as he licked one of your tears away, seemingly unbothered by the sheen of sweat on your face.

“You think anyone else can do this? Work your body up like this over and over again?” He grunted against your cheek. Your eyes squeezed shut at his harsh panting, his pace not slowing. “All you had to do was say that you need me. But no. You just had to be a fucking brat.”

You practically wailed as you teetered on the edge of another orgasm. “I-I need you. Just you, Bucky,” you said. At least, you thought you said it. You had a tough time stringing any thoughts together with his cock splitting you open.

But his thrusts don’t slow. They were just as relentless as before. “Oh, no. You had your chance to say it,” he snarled, leaning up to pull your hips back against his. “And my pussy is telling me all I need to know. So just lay there and give me another.”

The pleasure bordered on the edge of pain as a sob escaped. There was no possible way you could come again. As much as you thought you couldn’t take it, your body tensed. You still craved him and wanted to give him one more. So you did. You shattered. It was almost too easy that he managed to pull another orgasm from your pliable body.

Or maybe you were just easy for him.

Bucky smacked your ass hard enough to make you cry out, his hand kneading the flesh with a delighted groan. “Fuck, each one is better than the last, princess. You want me to fill you up huh? You wanna feel me dripping from you?” He chuckled darkly, finally slowing down as you let out another sob. He shushed you before he put a hand on the back of your neck and kept you down. “I’m gonna fill you up and you’re gonna take it. Then, I'm gonna lick you clean until I'm satisfied.”

“No…”

He gave you one more smack for good measure when you made a sound of protest. “C'mon, princess. Beg for me to fill you up. If you can talk.”

You didn’t know if you could. You were practically a drooling mess as he drove in as deep as he can go. “Pl… Pl… Bu…” you tried to moan, another tear falling as he shushed you again.

“Got you cockdrunk, didn't I? Need to be pumped full? Then let me give you every. Fucking. Drop.”

A tired moan came out when he filled you up, giving a few slow thrusts as he finished. Your body trembled beneath him, a whiplash of chills and heat. You barely registered him pulling out before he flipped you onto your back. Glassy and unfocused eyes. Makeup smeared all your face. Tears stains on your cheeks. You must’ve looked quite the sight.

He relished in ruining you.

And the beautiful bastard didn’t even look like he broke a sweat.

“Should I call you a dog? You’re drooling, princess,” he smirked. You didn’t have it in you to argue as his eyes drifted down to your pussy. It was still twitching and leaking with your mixed release. He licked his lips as he slid down your body more to fully take in the sight. “And you look good enough to eat, so I think that's just what I'll do.”

“What…” you gasped. He couldn't. Not after all that.

You whimpered as you tried to push him away with a tired hand, but he grabbed your wrists with a tsk. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You keep your hands to yourself. I told you I wasn't done with you and it's rude to keep a man from his meal.”

You were still floating from the multiple orgasms he gave you when he took his first lick. Your shivers picked up again and he groaned at your taste before diving in. Any strength you had to try to push him away depleted immediately, even with how sensitive your walls felt. You couldn't stop him.

You’d never be able to stop him.

After a minute, your eyes widened when you felt him build you up again. “No,” you moaned, but the sight of him between your legs, eating you like he was starving, was too much.

He just hummed against you. "Give. Me. One. More.”

Your back arched when his lips latched onto your clit, forcing the orgasm from your worn out body. You weren’t sure if you made a sound, but you trembled as your release went on for what seemed like forever. Bucky’s tongue lapped it all up, humming before he sat back and looked at your wrecked form again. He made a show of licking the shine from his lips and looked just as proud as ruining you with his tongue the way he did with his cock.

“If you ever try to threaten me with another man or refuse to admit you want me again, I'll make sure to tie you to this bed for a week and refuse to let you come even if you beg for it. And I shouldn’t have to mention what else I can do. Do you understand?”

You trembled, knowing exactly what Bucky was capable of. While he never laid a hand on you to inflict pain, you knew the damage he did to others. Like the bodies buried and cold in the ground because of him. Not to mention the connections he still had at the prison. All he had to do was say the word and that would be the true end of your dad.

With unfocused and teary eyes, you gave him a nod. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered.

“Now tell me you love me and that you’re sorry,” he ordered.

A tear slid from the corner of your eye. “…Love you. I’m sorry.”

His smile was tender and for a second you forgot about everything else. “That’s my good girl,” he praised, your heart betraying you like your body did when he kissed your lips. “And I love you, too.”

You whined as he left your line of sight, but he came back almost right away to sit beside you, the bed dipping under his weight. “Drink it, princess,” he urged, his voice gentler than before he helped you take a sip of water. He even smiled again when he wiped another tear of yours away. “We can go back to the way it was before, you know. When you were blissfully unaware and we just quickly fell in love.”

The pain in your heart came and went as your breathing evened. You wished you could go back to innocent movie nights and meals. To waking up beside him with a smile on your face. To making love so passionate that you believed you were made for each other. There was no changing anything or going back. You could only move forward with him by your side.

Bucky sighed when you didn't say anything. “I know I’m a piece of shit, but I won't stop loving you. And I think you learned your lesson.”

You blinked a little as you took another sip, on the verge of passing out.

“You’re mine and I’m never letting you go,” he whispered, brushing the gentlest of kisses against the top of your head. “Don’t you ever fucking forget that.”

So... I know he isn't all good, but I had fun writing this and I hope you lovelies enjoyed it! Would love to hear your thoughts and maybe I'll expand on this? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[op-sys-chaos]

DPxDC prompt (demon twins au)

A video from your son, the email was titled. Bruce was confused. Which of his kids would send a video to his public work email??

Bruce clicked play.

On the screen was a boy who look a lot like Damian, but most certainly wasn’t him.

“This video is for the eyes of Bruce Wayne only.

Hi Dad. I’m Danny. You likely don’t know I exist, and if you’re receiving this, I’m already dead. Well, more dead than I already was. Maybe it’s cruel of me to send you a message post-mortem, but you deserve the truth, and telling you earlier would’ve put you in danger.

This email is set to automatically send if I haven’t opened my computer for 3 days. I sometimes set it longer if I’m on vacation or expecting trouble, but I’ve mostly likely been away from home for a bit over three days if you’re receiving this.

I don’t know who killed me. Obviously. I’m recording this in advance. But it was probably either the GIW or my adoptive parents, the Fentons. I half-died at 14 and became a local ghost superhero, but they never realized I was trying to help and kept talking about tearing ghost-me apart molecule by molecule, so I bet that’s what happened. There will be nothing left of me to bury. Sorry about that!

The rest of the story is this. I was raised in an assassin cult, eventually escaping at the age of 6 when they sent me on mission and I successfully faked my death.

My biggest regret is that I escaped alone. And that’s the reason I’m reaching out to you.

You’re a civilian. If you know too much about the League of Assassins you’ll be in danger. But I need you to save my twin Damian. He’s likely still there after all these years. He never wanted to escape; he took pride in being the heir to the league. He’s probably going to be stabby; he’s an assassin after all. But it’s not his fault. Ra’s - our grandfather - brainwashed him a lot more than he brainwashed me because Damian was more susceptible to it. It’s not his fault. Please. Save him. I’m begging you. My biggest regret is leaving Damian in the league. You have a chance to save him. Please, please do it.

I wish it would’ve been safe for me to get to know you. You seem like a cool dad, from what I’ve seen of you on the news with your oldest kids. I bet you’re like that with the youngest you hide from the public too. I wish you all the best. Thank you for listening.

Your long lost almost certainly dead by now son, Danny Fenton.”

Bruce took a second to process this, then picked up his phone and dialed his youngest’s number.

“Father.”

“Damian, did you have a twin named Danny?”

“…Who told you?”

Bruce hung up and sent Damian the video. He needed a minute to process this anyway.

Damian called back a few minutes later, after watching the video.

“Father. I do not care what state he is in. We must discover exactly what happened to Danny. Even if there is only a single molecule left. We must discover the truth.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Damian.”

Dealer’s choice on whether Danny is alive. The few ideas I have for this are:

- they find him mid-vivisection and rescue him

- they find what’s left of him post-vivisection and post his core being crushed

- he’s perfectly fine and just forgot to open his computer (maybe clockwork made sure he forgot?) and now he’s panicking about the fact that his family knows about him and could be in danger. He wanted them to know he existed, not make themselves a walking target for the league by finding him and trying to bring him home!

- Jazz found the automatic email and, deciding to meddle in her brother’s life and him back to his family and maybe get a good parent for herself as a bonus, sent it early

- Technus decided to start shit and sent it while haunting Danny’s computer

- Clockwork screwed with time to make sure it got sent

Lmk what yall do with this!

[pedroscurls]

secret crushes (one-shot)

summary: you've known hugh for years, having not only a personal friendship with him, but also a professional one. then, ryan decides to play matchmaker unbeknownst to you or hugh. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 4.5k warnings: this is complete filth bc how can you not look at that first photo and just be fine??? anyway - porn with little plot, unprotected p in v, public beach sex, seated cowgirl, oral - m receiving, light dirty talk, no use of y/n. a/n: this is for the anon who requested this spicy idea! i hope you enjoyed it as much as i did writing it. i haven't opened up my requests since 2017 (i think), but ya know, that might change after this lol. i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman! this is purely fictional.

“All expenses paid,” you hear Ryan say over the phone. “You deserve a vacation. Even Blake agrees.”

“Ryan, no,” you protest, beginning to clean up your small coffee shop for the day. When you opened your own coffee shop so many years ago, you didn’t expect that not only would it be great business, but that you’d be very close friends with Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman. 

“Oh, come on!” he says. “When was the last time you took time for yourself, hm?” 

There’s a silence that engulfs the two of you.

Before you can even speak, Ryan chimes in. “Exactly. You’ll have your own hotel room. You don’t have to spend the entire trip with us, though, we will be hurt if you don’t hang out with us, and–” he teases. 

“Okay, fine! Fine,” you huff. “I’m sure after Deadpool & Wolverine, you need some time for you and your family too.”

“Yeah,” Ryan replies. “I feel like I can be a good dad now.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “You’ve always been a good dad.”

“Eh,” he chuckles. “So, we’ll see you at the airport this weekend?”

“Sure.”

“Actually, we’re going to pick you up.” Ryan decides. “That way, I know for sure you’ll be coming with us.”

“God, you’re annoying!” you laugh. “Fine. I’ll see you and the family this Friday night. After I close up.”

“No, no. We’re leaving in the morning. Your coffee shop will be fine.”

“I know, it’s just–” you sigh, resting the phone between your ear and shoulder as you rearrange the bags of coffee on the display. Your mind drifts momentarily when you see the Laughing Man coffee beans, thinking about Hugh. “Nevermind.” 

“You think too much,” Ryan points out then his voice turns serious for a moment. “You’ll be okay. Your shop will be okay. In the time we’ve known you – Hugh and I – you’ve always been working, busting your ass.”

“I know,” you then move your gaze to the amount of photographs on your wall behind the counter. They are photographs that you’ve taken, candid ones of your employees, landscape portraits of the trips you’ve taken to find the best coffee beans, even personal photos of you and your family and friends, including Hugh, Ryan, and Blake. 

“So…” he says. “Pick you up Friday morning?” 

“Yes, Ryan. You can pick me up Friday morning. You’re very convincing, do you know that? You just never quit until you get your way.” 

“What can I say? I’m very persuasive.” He chuckles. “Okay, I’ll see you Friday. Have a good rest of your week. Call me if you need anything.” 

“I’m sure I’ll see you and Hugh before then,” you tease. “At this rate, all this free coffee I give you does amount to a free trip.”

“Exactly! Talk to you later.” 

—

You hadn’t spoken to Hugh in weeks, knowing that he and Ryan had been doing constant press conferences and interviews after Deadpool & Wolverine came out. You’d never admit it to either of them, but you did go out to watch the movie and it only fueled the crush that you had on Hugh. Especially that final scene. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t go home that night with thoughts filled of him. Shirtless and glistening. It was rather inappropriate, really. Not only did you and Hugh start out as friends, but you also had a partnership with him where he sells his brand of coffee at your coffee shop and takes a cut of what the sales make. It’s worked for years now and you never really looked at him in a way that was more than a friend or partner. You knew he was good looking, so sweet and funny, but it wasn’t until months after his divorce that you started to look at him differently. You had to wonder if he looked at you the same way because you started to notice how often he would come by when you were closing up to help you clean, or how his gaze on you would linger, his touches seemingly becoming more and more less friendly and more intimate. 

You’re already on the plane with Ryan, Blake, and the rest of their family. It never felt like you were the odd one out. Both Ryan and Blake always made you feel like you were part of their family. There were plenty of times where you and Hugh would babysit Ryan and Blake’s children while they were busy and always, they’d ask for Uncle Hugh to sing songs from The Greatest Showman. You were always right there next to him, singing and performing alongside him to entertain the kids. 

When you moved to New York, it was a big leap of faith. It wasn’t always easy, but Hugh, Ryan, and Blake made you feel less alone when there were times you weren’t sure you were ever going to make it out here. Now, you can’t even think of leaving New York. It has become your home. These people… They have become your family. 

You look up from your notebook to see Blake and Ryan staring at you, both with big grins on their faces. You can tell they were hiding something, so you shut your notebook and point at them.

“Okay, spill.”

Ryan feigns a gasp, palms raising up in surrender. “Can’t my beautiful wife and I stare at you lovingly?” 

Blake lets out a quiet laugh and rolls her eyes. “It’s nothing.”

“You’re both really bad liars,” you point out. “What is it? Why are you both smiling at me like that?”

“We’re just happy that you’re finally taking some time to yourself,” Blake replies, moving to sit next to you. 

“You’re much more convincing than your husband,” you say loud enough for Ryan to hear.

“I take offense to that,” Ryan says. 

Blake turns to you and looks down at your notebook, tilting her head in amusement. “Even away from your coffee shop, all you can think about is how to improve it. Don’t you ever stop working?” 

“Never,” you laugh, opening your notebook for her to look through. “Fall is right around the corner, so I’m just thinking of a few specialty drinks that I can introduce for a limited time. I hear pumpkin spice is very popular.”

You and Blake stare at each other and then erupt into a fit of laughter, both of you shaking your heads. “Can you promise me one thing on this trip?” she asks.

“I can try.” 

“Try to have some fun, don’t think so much about work. It’ll be there when you get back. We’re in Hawaii for two weeks. Just–” Blake shrugs. “Be open and let loose.” 

You arch an eyebrow. “I feel like there’s a hidden meaning there somewhere.”

“Oh, there is!” Ryan nods, a grin lining his lips. “Or is there?” 

“The both of you,” you shake your head. “Are ridiculous.”

“Ah, but you love us,” Blake grins. 

“Unfortunately,” you tease. “But okay, I’ll do my best. No work. No thinking about work. I’ll try and focus on being in the present.” 

“Maybe you can meditate,” Ryan calls out. “You know, Hugh swears by it.” 

Hugh. The mere mention of his name makes your heart flutter and you subconsciously bite your lower lip. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Blake who tries to bite back a smile. 

“Yeah, maybe.” You stand up and then motion towards the bathroom, excusing yourself from both Blake, Ryan, and their kids. 

Blake then turns to Ryan and grins. She whispers very quietly. “I think it’s going to work.” 

“I sure hope so. Neither of them have any clue what we’re trying to do.” 

“You’ve seen it. I’ve seen it. They’re the only ones who haven’t seen it,” Blake says. 

“Oh, Hugh’s seen it,” Ryan winks. 

Blake chuckles. “Well, let’s see how this trip goes.”

“If it all goes well, they’ll be leaving together,” Ryan replies. 

—

You’ve been in Hawaii for three days now. You’ve possibly spent every moment with Ryan and his family since arriving. You didn’t mind though. Being in their company helped keep your mind away from work, away from the responsibilities that await you at home, away from Hugh. Today, though, Ryan and Blake want to spend the day at a secluded beach to allow their kids to roam free and have fun without worrying about possible paparazzi. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, dressed in a deep blue bikini set – a halter triangle top tied at the base of your neck and back, and a cheeky bottom with side ties that rest on the side of your hips – with a white, long sleeve cover-up. You take a few pictures of yourself, wanting to send it to Hugh or even post it on social media, but you don’t. Instead, you turn off your phone and set it inside your bag before you leave your room to meet Ryan and the family. 

Throughout the entire ride to the island, Ryan and Blake can’t keep their eyes off of you. You busy yourself, though, with playing with their kids, hearing their laughter fill the car. You can tell they’re excited, jumping up and down in their seats as they talk amongst one another about the things they’ll do once they get to the beach. 

It isn’t until you all arrive at the beach and climb out that you notice another car in the lot. Ryan had mentioned before that it would just be his family and you, so you had to wonder if maybe he had gotten something wrong along the way of planning this. But if you were concerned about it, he certainly didn’t show it himself. Instead, he climbs out of the car and grabs the kids’ bags from the trunk before he and Blake motion for you to follow them onto the beach. Your toes hit the sand as you slide your sunglasses on your face. You tell Ryan and Blake that you’ll be at a distance, allowing them at least some time to spend with their kids without you and it gives you enough time to try and meditate. Maybe it will work, you tell yourself. 

You don’t see anyone else nearby and you’re at a good distance from Ryan and Blake, so you set down your towel and bag, removing your cover-up and sunglasses. You make sure to reapply more sunscreen before you walk towards the water. It’s cold and it causes a shiver to run down your spine, so you force yourself to dive in to get acclimated to the temperature of the water. 

The beach had always calmed you down, kept you grounded. It was one of the reasons why you had been so hesitant to leave your hometown of California. From one side of the coast to another. Once you come back up, you run your hands through your wet hair, slicking it back away from your face as you stand, the water only reaching your upper thighs. When you open your eyes, though, your jaw drops. 

Hugh is within a few arms reach as his eyes meet yours. The surprise look on his face tells you all that you need to know. 

He had no idea you would be here.

And neither did you. 

You can’t help but let your eyes take in his frame. His broad chest, water trickling down his frame, disappearing into the waistband of his black board shorts. He’s pulling his shorts up just a bit, but it gives you a good view of the v-cut he has and immediately, you’re aware of the feeling between your legs.

But just like you’re checking him out, Hugh’s also allowing his eyes to roam over your frame. The bikini you’re wearing is so tiny and tight around your frame. He tries to tell himself not to get excited at the mere sight of you, but it’s hard. He’s getting hard, so he does his best to think of other things that could lessen his excitement. 

Since his divorce, Hugh had taken comfort in your presence. What started out as a friendship turned partnership had blossomed into something else. Surely, you felt it too. Or at least that’s what he told himself. 

“Hello, you,” he calls out. 

The both of you begin walking towards each other, meeting in the middle as the waves crash around you. 

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” you say softly. Out of instinct, you reach out to give him a hug, warms snaking around his shoulders. This feels good, hugging him like this feels fucking great. You feel his hard chest and hair against you. He’s so wet, so slick and you just want to–

“I think Ryan may have forgotten to tell us both,” Hugh says, voice deep and husky against your ear as his arms wrap around your waist. Hugh shuts his eyes as he feels your breasts against him, his fingertips resting just above your backside and he feels his manhood stir awake. 

Quickly, Hugh pulls away, slowly lowering himself in the water to cover the growing erection between his legs and also to keep some distance between your bodies. You do the same, swimming further into the water as you both continue to float. 

“And Blake,” you add. “You think it was intentional? You ask, turning to look over your shoulder to see both Ryan and Blake staring at the both of you. 

Hugh looks over at them and lets out a quiet chuckle. “Dunno,” he answers. “But I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Me too,” you blush, heat rising in your cheeks. “How long– How long have you been here?”

“Three days.”

“Those fuckers,” you chuckle. “They totally set this up.”

Hugh laughs alongside you and tilts his head in amusement. He watches you closely, seeing you gnaw at your lower lip nervously (it’s something he’s noticed about you very early on). You bring your hand up to stroke your hair back away from your face and Hugh can’t help but smile to himself. He likes you. Really likes you and he knows that he shouldn’t act on it, knows that there should be some boundary, but he can’t help himself. 

“You nervous?” he asks quietly. 

“What?” you answer, looking up at him. “No…”

“You’re doin’ that thing you do,” Hugh points out. He gently reaches out and runs the pad of his thumb along your lower lip, causing you to release it between your teeth. 

“What thing?” 

“You know what thing,” he chuckles, slowly swimming closer to you. “You bite your lower lip a lot when you get nervous or when you’re deep in thought. So, you’re either nervous or you’re thinkin’ about somethin’. Which is it?”

“Neither,” you lie. 

Hugh narrows his eyes slowly and drags his thumb at the center of your lower lip and down to your chin until he hooks it in his grasp. “Now, I know you’re not someone who lies,” he begins, moving his thumb across your jawline. “Don’t tell me you’re lying now.”

“I’m both,” you blurt out, leaning against his touch. “I’m nervous and I’m thinking about something.”

“You’re always thinking about something,” Hugh points out. “Do I…” he asks hesitantly and drops his hand back into the water. “Do I make you nervous?”

“Right now you are.”

“Why?” 

“Because…” you whisper, looking deeply into his eyes. “One, we’re both basically half naked.”

“We’re at a beach,” he says with a small smile. “We’re in our bathing suits.”

“Half naked,” you correct. “And two, you’re just–” you stop yourself and drop your eyes to his lips then back up to gaze into his eyes. You then remember what Blake told you. Try to have some fun. Be open. Let loose. Now, you understand exactly what she meant by that. So, you let out a shaky breath and continue. “You’re just so fucking hot, Hugh, and yes, you’re making me nervous because you’re literally shirtless and wet, and you’re muscular and it’s just–”

Hugh’s laughter interrupts your rambling. You notice the way his nose crinkles upwards when the laughter comes deep within the pit of his stomach. Suddenly, you’re very aware that you just made a fool out of yourself and you gently shove him. 

“It’s not funny! You asked and so I told you. I was being honest!” 

“I’m not–” he sighs, his laughter dying down. “I’m not laughing at you, baby.” The term slips past his lips so effortlessly and he reaches out from underneath the water to grab a hold of your hip, pulling you to him. “I’m laughing because you think I’m hot to a point that you’re stuttering over your words. Have you seen yourself?” The smile remains on his lips and his thumb begins to rub circles at your hip. “Because if anyone should be nervous, it’s me.”

“You?” 

“Oh, come on,” he says. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that I’ve got the biggest crush on ya.” 

“Wait, you what?” your eyes slightly widen in surprise, but you can’t help the way your stomach flips in excitement. 

“I’ve got a crush on ya,” he whispers. “And I shouldn’t even be having crushes at this age,” Hugh chuckles nervously. “But I do. I like you.”

“You’re not joking?”

“Why would I be joking?”

“Because you can have literally anyone you want and–”

“I want you.” Hugh says, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. “Do you want me to?” 

“More than you fucking know, Hugh.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your lips against him. You sigh against him moving your legs to wrap around his waist underneath the water as you move your lips against his own. 

Hugh growls against you, both hands moving to your hips as he leans further into you, tilting his head to get a better angle of your lips. He didn’t realize this was how his trip was going to go. After Ryan convinced him to take some time off, especially after the success of their movie together, he was hesitant. He didn’t want to take time off. He was used to being busy, especially after his divorce, but Hugh had only agreed to come on the trip to figure out his feelings for you. 

He just didn’t realize that you’d be here too. 

In the distance, you and Hugh can hear a faint clapping and hollering. You both pull away to look over at the noise and see Blake, Ryan, and their kids jump up in excitement, cheering for the both of you. You see them wave in your direction before they begin to grab their things, making their way back to the parking lot. You then look at Hugh and gaze into his eyes.

“Are they leaving us? Leaving me?” You ask. 

“I can take you back,” Hugh says softly. 

You bite your lower lip and nod. “Only if it isn’t–”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if our hotel rooms are right next to each other,” Hugh chuckles, slowly then moving his hands down as he grasps your backside in his large hands, pulling you flush against him. His gaze darkens as he stares into your eyes. He thinks maybe he might have moved too fast, but when you roll your hips against him, he knows exactly what’s going to happen next. 

You want him just as bad as he does. 

“Hugh,” you whisper, voice laced with desire. “Please.” 

“Tell me, baby.”

“I need you.” You bury your face in the side of his neck and gently nip at his skin, feeling his hands move under you, his long fingers brushing against your core as it causes you to gasp. 

Hugh’s painfully hard against his board shorts and he lets out a low groan when he feels your teeth scrape against the skin at his neck. He feels you squirming against him, moaning into his ear and he has to pull away briefly to look into your eyes. 

“Are you sure?”

“If I have to say please one more time…”

“I don’t mind hearin’ you beg,” he winks. “Come on.” Hugh leads you out of the water and towards his towel in a much more secluded area. You drift from him for a moment to grab your things before following him, watching him lay out his towel before he takes a seat on it, legs spread wide. 

You bite your lower lip and lay out your towel in front of him, dropping to your knees as you crawl towards him until you're seated on your knees between his legs. “We won’t get in trouble, will we?”

Hugh shrugs, reaching down to cup your cheek. “Don’t think so. Ryan made sure that no one but us should be here and–”

“That’s good enough for me.” You lean down and move your hands to the waistband of his board shorts. He’s dripping wet from the water and you can see the outline of his length perfectly due to his shorts sticking to him. You hook your fingers into the waistband and slowly pull it down enough to see his length spring free. Hugh lets out a low groan of relief and reaches behind you to undo the knot at the base of your neck. Once loose, he watches your top fall open to reveal your breasts. He doesn’t have enough time to take in your newly exposed chest because your hand wraps around his base, soft lips grazing the head of his manhood. 

“Ah, baby,” he growls, moving a hand to your shoulder, gripping it tightly as your mouth wraps around his tip. Hugh shuts his eyes and tosses his head back, moving one hand to rest on the towel while the other remains on your shoulder. 

You look up at him, feeling an immediate possessiveness wash over you. He looks so beautiful like this, eyes shut, chest heaving, and at your mercy. 

You begin to stroke his base as your tongue swirls around his tip, lapping at his precum. His groans slowly become louder as you lower your head to take more of him, stroking his base when you realize you can’t take him whole. He’s larger than you expected, girthy and long, and it excites you. As you continue to stroke him in time with sucking his length, you feel Hugh’s hand move from your shoulder to the back of your head as his hips slightly lift itself. He pushes himself further into your mouth, feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat repeatedly. 

“Fuck,” he moans, eyes opening to look down at you. God, Hugh can just come at the sight of you. Tears slightly stinging the corners of your eyes and your mouth stuffed full of him. What a beautiful fucking sight, he thinks.

Slowly, Hugh has to pull away from you because he feels the pit of his stomach tightening, searching for release. He lets out a low growl that reverberates through his chest and you lean up on your knees, licking your lips. Hugh reaches out for you and pulls you on his lap, hurriedly moving your bikini bottom to the side. He grasps his manhood and runs his tip along your length, feeling your wetness coat him with each movement.

“You’re wet for me?” he asks, eyes staring up at you. 

“Only for you.” you reply, eyes fluttering as you feel his tip slowly push into you. He releases his hold on his length and rests his hand on your hip, leaning down to press soft kisses against your chest before he moves onto a breast, flicking his tongue against your nipple repeatedly before he wraps his lips around it. 

You let out a loud moan, moving your hands to his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself onto him, your walls tight and wet sliding down his cock. You feel so full of him and he’s not yet fully in the hilt. The stretch is almost painful, but you’re so wet and throbbing that you have to stop yourself from slamming down onto him. 

“Oh god, Hugh,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders as you move along his length, not yet allowing him to fill you to the hilt as your walls begin to make way for him. 

Hugh moves his lips to your other breast, eyes staring up at you. He wants more of you, needs more of you so he slowly lifts his hips, inching further within your depths. 

“Shit,” he groans, watching as his cock disappears into you completely. Hugh’s hands rest over your hips as you pull him closer to you, chests pressed against one another as you slowly roll your hips against his. “So fucking tight, baby,” he whispers against you, forehead resting on yours. 

“You’re–” you gasp, feeling his hair at the base brush against your clit as you continue your movements. “So big,” you moan, eyes falling shut. 

Hugh gently pecks your lips and takes a hold of your hips to guide you along his length. He watches you reach for his cowboy hat, placing it on top of your head and Hugh has to force himself to hold back his release. 

“You’re so hot,” he moans, allowing you to take control of your movements. Hugh can’t help the way your walls tighten around his cock – you’re so warm and wet, so inviting and tight. He knows he’s close, but he can’t– he can’t finish without you finishing first. 

“Baby,” Hugh whimpers, holding you flush against him in a tight grip. “Don’t– Fuck, baby, don’t move.” 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, hands moving to link at the base of his neck. “You can come, Hugh.”

“No,” he shakes his head, losing his resolve as your hips move forward and backward slowly. “You have to be first– Shit…”

“This won’t be the only time,” you say reassuringly, lightly pecking his lips. You then increase your movements, hips moving forward and backward at a faster pace. Hugh’s so deep in this position and you know you’re close, but you’re determined to have Hugh finish before you. 

“Sweetheart,” Hugh grunts. “Baby, I’m–” His eyes flutter shut as he lets out a loud groan, mouth slightly agape as his fingertips dig almost painfully into your hips. His release shoots inside of you, painting your walls as his manhood throbs within your depths. 

He’s still half hard and you take this moment to begin bouncing along his length, using your hand to reach down between you to rub your clit and Hugh’s eyes narrow. He pushes your hand away and rubs your clit with his thumb in a circular motion. 

Hugh feels possessive and almost animalistic at the sight of you using him to get yourself off. He can feel your walls begin to tremble and he’s still a bit sensitive, but you just feel so fucking good. 

“Come on, baby,” he coos, applying pressure to your clit. “I know you’re there. Come for me, sweetheart.”

That’s all it took. Your walls tighten around his length as your body trembles against him. Hugh moves his hand to wrap his arms around your waist, leaning up to press his lips against yours. He’s still inside of you, his length softening as the moment passes. 

You move your lips lazily against his, heavy breaths passing through the both of you as Hugh pulls back slowly. “Wanna head back to the hotel?” he grins. 

“Oh, hell yeah.” 

[changingplumbob]

Foster Household: Chapter 9, Part 8

CW: Mental Health Struggles - Guide to content warnings

Chad: How are you today Carson

Carson: Not good. I mucked up at school

Chad: Oh? It’s not exam season is it

Carson: No. I just... I was painting and Ariadne came to talk to me and then the bell rang and all my intrusive thoughts started up and she didn’t finish what she was saying. She probably thinks I’m a rude idiot

Chad: Carson, remember how we talked about mind reading?

Carson: Sort of. It’s like imagining what another person is thinking

Chad: Yep. It’s also a notoriously unreliable train of thought. There’s no way for us to know what someone else is thinking

Carson: Unless we ask?

Chad: Exactly. So while it might be easy to imagine that everyone is thinking the worst of us, it doesn’t make it true. How have you found talking to her when the intrusive thoughts are more quiet?

Carson: Good. Really good. I held her hands and it felt great

Chad: Have you read up on asexuality at all?

Carson: Oh I have and it was good! Like just... exactly what I feel and think has a name. It was... validating. Yeah, validating. I don’t know how touch averse I am, I guess I’ll find out with time

Chad: I’m glad to hear that. Is there anything else you want to discuss before we get to today’s workshop?

Carson: No I’m good

Chad: Great. So last time was all about identifying your symptoms and thoughts. Today we’re going to revise that and discuss some ways to apply reasoned arguments to those thoughts

After he had finished with Chad, Carson hoped on the ferry home and gave his mum a call.

Carson: Hey Mum, my session is all finished. Do you need me to grab anything on the way home

Kayleigh: Oh sweetie I’m sending the new address to your phone

Carson: New address?

Kayleigh: YES! The movers came while you were at school and we’re all set up

Carson: So strangers were touching my stuff? Mum do you know how many germs they could have left?

Kayleigh: We got you some brand new stuff to, don’t worry. You’re going to love it. If you want to clean anything I can help, okay?

Carson worried all the way to the new house. People touching his stuff? When he got there he was pleased to see there were no internal stairs though, much safer. Kayleigh showed him his room and while he was apprehensive he couldn’t deny that his mum had done a good job of preserving his things. Once he was settled Kayleigh left him to do his homework. The light here was much nicer to, but he’d probably have to be careful for mold with his room sitting above the water. Could sharks break through floors like Lachrymose Leeches if they smelled food on him?

Harvey: How’d your appointment go? Are you liking Chad

Carson: Yeah he’s really chill. Helps me not feel so stressed

Kayleigh: I’m sorry we didn’t give you a heads up about the move but we didn’t want you to make yourself sick with worry before we were here

Carson: *sighs* It’s not cool mum

Harvey: It wasn’t just her, we decided together. Be mad at both of us if you are

Carson: Do sharks break through floors?

Kayleigh: I don’t think so but if you want to know I’m sure your sister knows

Harvey: She is a marine biologist

Carson: Yeah I might do that

Kayleigh: And we’re hiring a maid. They’ll come every weekday and clean however much of your room and bathroom you want

Harvey: You’re so smart sugar

Carson: Oh watcher, could you wait until I’m out of the room before kissing? Yeesh

Our first visitor was eldest child Charlie!

Harvey: You found us!

Charlie: Too easily. The paparazzi are going to find you here you know

Harvey: As if, I don’t think they know where Sulani even is. Come play chess?

Charlie follows her dad to the back porch, gives her mum a kiss on the cheek hello, and sets down to play. Harvey however is not a great player and the game is soon over with Charlie the victor.

Kayleigh: Alright my turn

Charlie: You think you can win

Kayleigh: I taught you how to play remember

Charlie: Yeah with a long gap and more kids in the middle

Kayleigh: I’ve been tuning my skills for promotion, you’ll see

Indeed Charlie does. Although she does her best to distract her mum during the game with claims of spotting sea monsters in the distance, Kayleigh is the final victor of the night.

Previous ... Next

[jjunieworld]

MEET ME AT OUR SPOT ˒˒ 심재윤 ▸  part one of the player’s game series⌇playlist & series tag

with the news of your grandma’s depleting health, life has you moving to your mother’s seaside hometown for the summer to your aunt’s. while there, you meet the illustrious player—jake sim—that everyone can’t seem to stop talking about. what you never expected was to gain his attention and spend the three months you’re there falling for him.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ sim jaeyun x fem!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 jungwon, lifeguard!jay, player!sunghoon, and oc hana (jake’s ex)

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ angst, smut, fluff, strangers to temporary lovers, beach au, summer fling/summer love, lifeguard!jake, blonde!jake, kindaaa slow burn, h2o jokes references (i had to), slice of life, lifeguarding & surfing inaccuracies, reader is jungwon’s cousin

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ player!jake, toxic!jake, soft dom!jake, subtle manipulation, reader and hana almost drown once, mentions of reader’s dad passing (before story) and grandma’s depleting health, alcohol, skinny dipping, corruption kink, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, unprotected sex (condoms!), fingering, oral fixation, oral (f. rec), semi-public sex?, jake is jealous and a little possessive, he’s also lowkey a munch, hair pulling, cum eating?, petnames (baby, pretty), praise, jake talks you through it, creampie, dirty talk, slight dacryphilia, dumbification, marking

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ this is mainly for @jjunberry (who held me at gunpoint to make this fic about jake), so echo i hope you enjoy!! ♡ i might make a part two,,, not sure! i have some ideas for it, but it depends on how everyone is feeling! >ㅅ< let me know what you think!! divider is by @/cafekitsune :D i hope you all enjoy!!! all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

∿ [ 22k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]

your mom nudged you awake just as the plane was beginning to land. you rubbed your bleary eyes and blinked rapidly to try and get your eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight. nudging you again, your mom said, “wake up, we’re about to land.”

rolling your sore neck out, you sat up in your chair and looked around the plane at all the other passengers preparing themselves for the landing. you sighed softly to yourself, you never really liked planes—not that you’ve been on many. you were flying from the small town you called home to the small seaside hometown of your mother’s on the request of your aunt.

your aunt’s phone call still replayed in your head. you and your mom were in the middle of making lunch together when she got it. with a smile, your mom answered her sister’s call. “yes, older sister, is there a reason you’re interrupting my day?” your mom asked playfully.

her grin quickly vanished and through the phone you could hear your aunt say, “it’s mom… the doctors say she isn’t getting better…”

your mom turned you with a worried expression. you had stirred the contents of the pot on the stove before turning fully to your mom, brows furrowed. fear sank deep into your chest at the thought of your grandma not getting better. surely there was something else the doctors could do, right?

stepping up beside your mom at the kitchen island, you listened in to what your aunt was saying. “they’re trying everything they can. some things work—and she starts getting better—but some things don’t,” you could hear your aunt's voice start to wobble.

your aunt then quickly changed the subject away from your grandma’s depleting health, “why don’t you and y/n come down here for the summer? see grandma, jungwon, and i? it’s been so long since i’ve seen you both!”

you thought about the last time you saw your aunt and cousin. it was at your dad’s funeral—where you and your aunt had desperately tried to keep your mom together. it would be nice if you made a new, happier memory with them.

“oh…” your mom spoke, looking over to your place next to her. you could tell she was trying hard not to break in front of you. “we’ll be there.”

you and your mom were in your aunt’s car now after she had picked the two of you up from the airport. your head was resting against the glass as you peered out to the coastal scenery. you’ve never been to your mom’s hometown before. you had asked her once—sometime after your father’s death—and the sadness in her eyes made you regret asking. it was where your parents met. your father was visiting and the rest is history.

[ YOU HAD ME AT “HELLO” — 1ST MONTH ] ✈︎ ninety-two days until you return home.

your aunt pulled up to her and your mom’s childhood home where you could see your cousin, jungwon, waiting for you all on the porch. jungwon jogged up to the car just as you were exiting it, “y/nie! it’s been so long since i last saw you. did your head get bigger?”

“shut up!” you said, playfully pushing your cousin away from you. you put a finger to your chin in thought, “hmm, did you get shorter? i swear you were taller the last time i saw you.”

jungwon put a hand to his chest in mock hurt as he playfully rolled his eyes with a grin. he helped you and your mom get your luggage out from the car and drag it all inside.

you were staying in your mom’s childhood bedroom for the summer. although most of her decorations from her teen years had been taken down, you could still see the remnants of your mom in the room. you piled up your suitcases near the closet and dresser, turning to jungwon with a huff as you tried to catch your breath.

“we should head down to the beach after you’re done settling in! you said you’ve never been in the ocean, right?” jungwon asked you. you nodded in reply. you were excited to swim in the ocean and check out what the boardwalk had to offer.

“we should, that sounds fun!” you exclaimed. he then left and you started the lengthy process of turning the bedroom into your own for the summer. it didn’t help that you also overpacked. you couldn’t really tell what to bring and what not to bring to a small seaside town, so you kind of brought everything.

once you finished unpacking and taking a quick visit to your grandma’s room to greet her, you met jungwon in the living room. he was sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone. once he heard your approaching footsteps he looked up. “ready to go?” he asked you.

“ready to go,” you repeated with a nod. you had dressed in your bathing suit and cover before leaving your room and you saw that jungwon had done the same. he was clad in swim trunks with a black shirt. nerves bubbled in you about swimming in the ocean for the first time but you tried to not let anxious thoughts overwhelm you.

you and jungwon were making the short walk down to the ocean, which your aunt thankfully didn’t live too far from, when you caught sight of the boardwalk and marveled at all the shops and people around. you and jungwon laid your towels down in the sand and made your way straight to the bright blue water. squealing as jungwon flicked the cold water at you, you pushed your hands forward to splash him back. you then dunked completely under the water to try and get used to the coldness faster.

“oh my god!” you exclaimed as you surfaced, teeth chattering and body shivering, “i wasn’t expecting the water to be this cold!” you guessed that it was quite nice with the harsh heat of the summer sun beating down on you. jungwon’s laugh filled your ears as he splashed water at you again.

you weren’t the best of swimmers, that fact being very obvious to jungwon once he saw you doggy paddling in the water. you mostly stuck close to the shore, not wanting your feet to not be able to touch the ground. slowly, jungwon got you further and further out to try and help you swim better. it wasn’t working that well.

“i swear if i end up drowning out here because you’re a shitty swim teacher, i’m coming back to haunt you so bad!” you shouted to jungwon as you dipped under the water with the small oncoming wave. jungwon laughed hard, “don’t be mad at me because you’re a shitty swim student! besides, there’s like three lifeguards on the beach right now.”

jungwon motioned back to the shore at the three lifeguards. you turned to look, their small figures elevated from the rest of the crowd. one of them blew their whistle at some kid trying to drown another kid. distantly, you heard him yell, “stop trying to drown her before i kick you off the beach!”

you turned back to jungwon, “they seem preoccupied.”

jungwon shook his head with a smile. “well i’m kind of hungry… i’m gonna go get something to eat. you coming with or staying in the water?” jungwon asked you. you thought it over for a moment. you weren’t particularly hungry. “i’ll stay in the water. you know, hone my swimming skills while you’re gone,” you replied.

“don’t drown!” jungwon said as he began making his way to the shore. you scoffed playfully at him. once you were alone in the water, you started trying to actually swim a little. you decided that you wanted to test yourself to see what you learned by going further out in the ocean.

you were swimming, pretending to be a mermaid and going absolutely nowhere when all of a sudden a bigger wave than normal came rushing towards you. you noticed it a second too late and it crashed into you, causing you to submerge in the water.

just as you surfaced, gasping for air, another wave hit you and submerged you again. you hands grasped at air and your lungs burned as your ears rang. you didn’t know how long you spent being pummeled by the water until you felt arms wrap around you.

you were flipped onto your back as they pulled you to the surface. sputtering and gasping, you were finally able to inhale properly and bring oxygen back to your lungs. you tried to move but your limbs were heavy with exhaustion and you couldn’t help closing your eyes from the bright sun.

your back hit a hard surface and you cracked your eyes open to see that you were on a surfboard. “i got you, don’t worry,” a male voice, who you were assuming was one of the lifeguards, said above you. you started to cough violently as you held on for dear life to the surfboard. “thank you,” you managed to whisper hoarsely.

“no worries!” he responded breezily. you could feel him paddle you back to shore. you focused on taking deep breaths and trying to still your racing heart. you could’ve died back there all because you got cocky. if the lifeguard didn’t rescue you when he did you would’ve drowned.

once you both got back to the shore the lifeguard gave you a once over to ensure everything was all right. he pushed the blonde hair off his forehead as he spoke to you, “are you okay?”

you nodded weakly and said a bit flusteredly, “i think so, yes. thank you again, truly!” he flashed a bright smile at you and you couldn’t help but notice how cute he was. it almost made you want to jump back into the water and purposefully sink to the bottom so he would come and save you again.

“maybe you should stay out of the water for a while,” he said with a smile, “especially if you’re alone.” just at that moment you heard your name being shouted, the sound getting closer and closer to you. it was your cousin and you could hear the worry in his voice.

“oh my god, y/n!” jungwon exclaimed as he bent down towards you in the sand. he kept repeating what he said a couple times as he inspected you. you had to push his hands away and tell him that you were fine thanks to the lifeguard.

“i told you not to drown!” he suddenly shouted. if the people around you weren’t already staring at you, they were now. heat rose to your face from all of the sudden attention and embarrassment filled you. before you could speak the lifeguard chimed in, “technically she didn’t!”

you raised your brows as you smiled at how annoyed jungwon looked from his comment. “exactly, i got saved!” you added. jungwon waved a hand at you as you got to your feet with the aid of the lifeguard. jungwon then grumbled to himself, “i knew i should’ve made you come with me. and just my luck too, i left my food back at the table!”

turning swiftly to you, jungwon took your arm, “alright, beach time is over, we're going home. you get to explain to our moms how you managed to almost drown.” he pushed you towards the entrance of the boardwalk. jungwon then turned to the lifeguard and said, “oh! thank you for saving her!”

the two of you were almost out of the boardwalk when jungwon asked you why you kept looking behind you. you quickly turned to face forward with heated cheeks. you had been staring back at the attractive lifeguard, not realizing how obvious you were being about it. “that lifeguard was cute,” you said meekly.

jungwon looked behind him to look, “oh, jake? you really don’t want to get involved with him, y/n… he’s kind of a player.” you began to laugh off his statement when you turned to look at jake again and saw how he was surrounded by a group of girls in colorful bikinis.

jake had a smirk on his face as he wrapped his arm around a girl with dark hair while talking to another. your heart sunk a little in your chest. of course you weren’t the most special girl in the world, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t feel a little disappointed. you had to be realistic with yourself, someone like jake wasn’t going to fall for an average, everyday girl like you.

“oh…” was all you could say in reply as you turned back to the path you were taking home. you tried to think of the bright side of things—at least you wouldn’t end the summer with a failed relationship and a broken heart.

it had been almost a week since you arrived and besides the small beach trip you and jungwon took when you first got here, you haven’t left the house much. you were pretty sure that you were driving your mom and aunt crazy, especially when your mom brought up the idea of you getting a summer job. “it’s easy cash!” your mom explained, setting her open book down on her lap.

you aunt chimed in, “yeah! i heard mrs. song needed some more employees, why don’t you go down to the juice bar and apply?” you supposed that earning a little bit of cash while you were here wasn’t that bad of an idea, so you did exactly what your aunt suggested.

mrs. song didn’t even spare one glance at you and all she asked was, “can you make a smoothie?” you told her that you could—and very well if you do say so yourself—and she responded with, “great, you’re hired! you start monday at nine.”

you hadn’t realized that it would be that easy. she didn’t even interview you, but you put it to the back of your mind. you weren’t the one to pass up easy money. you had thought that it would at least take maybe an hour to go through the whole process, so now you were out and about with nothing to do. you decided to explore the town a little by yourself, since you still were unfamiliar with the whole place.

as your feet moved mindlessly, you looked around. it was a beautiful day out today, just cool enough for the summer sun not to boil you. you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t realize that you were climbing over some rocks to a secluded part of the beach until you almost slipped and fell.

there was a cove where a small amount of the water flowed in to an open cave-like entrance. being the curious person you were, you decided to follow it. you peeked into the cave, there was a huge opening at the top of it that let in a lot of sunlight. cautiously, with your flip flops in your hand, you made your way into the cave. you guess it wasn't really a cave at all, more of an open rock structure.

you were in the middle of the cave, the opening at the ceiling shining sunlight onto you, when you heard behind you, “oh!” jumping in shock, you turned to where the voice came from.

it was the cute lifeguard who saved you earlier this week—jake. he wore his shock completely on his face as he was frozen mid stride. there was a towel balled up in his arms along with what looked like some fishing equipment. heat quickly spread through your face as you struggled to make eye contact with him. “wasn’t expecting anyone to be here…” he murmured to himself, shaking the blonde hair out of his eyes slightly. you noticed he had an accent.

“oh! i’ll go!” you quickly said, already making your way back to the entrance. jake held up his hands to stop you and in the process his towel fell to the sand below the both of you. “no, no, no, that’s okay! you can stay if you want. uh… hello!” he replied with a smile.

you froze right in front of him like a deer in headlights, but managed to nod. he nodded back to you, smile widening, before making his way further into the cave. he sat his stuff down a couple feet from the small pool of water that formed from the ocean. you stood in the same spot by the entrance and watched him.

“nice meeting you again! what was your name? are you new here? i feel like you are. i haven’t seen you around before,” jake asked you, looking up from where he fiddled with his fishing hook. you took small steps towards him and nodded. “uh, yeah! my name’s y/n—i’m just here for the summer actually! thanks again for, you know, saving my life,” you said awkwardly.

jake chuckled, “seriously! no worries, y/n! so… how’d you find this place? i mean, nobody really knows about it but me.” he put his hook down and stood from his spot, giving you his full attention.

“i was just wandering around really…” you trailed, scratching the back of your neck, “i’ve been trying to explore the area since everything is so new to me.” jake’s eyebrows raised and he nodded at your words.

“you know what, you should let me show you around town since you’re new here!” jake exclaimed like it meant absolutely nothing. your eyebrows shot up at his offer. he wanted to show you around? just the two of you?

you shook your head a little and waved a hand in the air at him, “oh, you don’t have to bother! i can find my way around by my—“

jake cut you off and playfully said, “come on, i insist! i can’t just let you wander around blind! besides, this town may be small, but it does have its secrets. and lucky for you, i just so happen to know all of them!” he motioned around the cave that the two of you were in. “for example: this place,” he added.

call it genuine curiosity or the fact that you found him so attractive and charming that you couldn’t say no, you agreed. “if you insist!” you laughed sheepishly and jake smiled from ear to ear. the warning of him being a player got completely pushed out of your mind and all you could think about was the opportunity of getting close to him. everything seemed so perfect for it.

jake walked up to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “good, good! i was gonna go fishing, but this is way more fun. from here on out, this place will be known as our spot!” jake held a hand out as he turned the two of you in a circle. you giggled and glanced over at him, “our spot, got it!”

for the rest of the day, you and jake spent time getting to know each other as he showed you around town. he was a lot different than you thought he would be. for one, you expected him to be a lot more standoffish, but he was really friendly instead.

the two of you were sitting at one of the tables outside of a food stand after getting food when you asked jake what he liked to do for fun—besides the fishing he was going to do earlier. “well, i like long walks on the beach and—“ he joked before you cut him off with a nudge to his shoulder.

“be serious!” you exclaimed as he started laughing, which made you laugh too. jake raised his shoulders and exclaimed, “what! i do like long walks on the beach, they’re calming!”

after the two of you settled down a little, jake suddenly asked, “do you have a bucket list?” you thought for a moment. you’ve heard of the whole concept of bucket lists, but you always thought them too unrealistic to actually go through with it. it was more of those things that you thought would be nice to do, but knew you were never going to be able to do it.

“no, i don’t,” you replied.

jake’s eyes widened at you from across the table. the setting sun casted him in a hazy glow and made his blonde hair almost appear pinkish. “you don’t have a bucket list? no, we need to fix this. we’re coming up with a bucket list together—what’s something you always wanted to do?” he asked rapidly.

“i’ll have to think this through first!” you quickly spoke, holding your hands out in front of you to slow him down, “it has to be realistic if we’re gonna do this together, i’m only here for three months! and i want to be able to have memories of it—physical memories!”

“okay, okay, i’ll give you until tomorrow to come up with some ideas!” jake laughed, “but what do you mean physical memories?” he leaned forward onto the table and rested his head in his hand as he waited for your answer.

humming in thought, you replied, “like one of those cheap disposable cameras! we can take a bunch of pictures of us going through the bucket list and at the end of summer when i’m gone we can get them developed! that way we stay in the moment.” jake’s eyes lit up and he practically dragged you out of your seat and down the boardwalk.

“i know just the place!” he said and led you towards the entrance of the boardwalk. after walking a short distance, jake pulled you into a place that selled various types of cameras. you had gotten there just in time, since the store was just about to close for the night.

the two of you had run around the store looking for the disposable cameras you were talking about, having absolutely no luck, until you heard jake call out your name. when you made your way over to him he held two in his hands out for you to see. “one for you and one for me!” he grinned.

you made your way over to the register and jake paid for them—which you complained about but he ignored you anyways. once you got outside you both ripped the packages open. you heard jake turning the dial and looked up. he had the camera up to his face and took a picture of you just as you looked up.

blinking rapidly, a shy smile took over your face. “what was that for?” you asked. jake grinned from behind the camera and lowered it to look fully at you.

“i want my first memory to be of you,” jake said simply. your eyes widened and your heart did backflips in your chest. heat spread to your cheeks and you looked away at the intensity of his stare.

“really?” you asked quietly. you heard jake’s laugh and his finger was under your chin. he turned your head so you were looking at him. the two of you were so close you could feel his breath fanning across your cheeks. jake nodded at you.

with a smile he added, “you’re so cute.” he held his camera up and aimed it at the both of you so that you were in frame. still shocked from what just happened, you idly looked up the camera with a dazed smile and jake snapped another picture.

to break the sudden tension, you turned to him with a flustered smile. “i want one of us too!” you said cheerfully. you held your camera up and jake wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close until you were completely up against him. your face felt on fire as you snapped the picture.

you looked over to jake—who still had his arm wrapped around you waist—and quickly came up with an excuse to escape the tension. “i should probably start heading home,” you muttered as jake stared back at you, “it’s getting late.”

jake slowly removed his arm—not far, as it now rested on your hip as you turned to face him. “i’ll walk you,” he replied.

the walk back to your aunt’s was shorter than you expected and it made you wish that you purposefully took a couple wrong turns so that you could stay with jake longer. you were beginning to really enjoy his company and wanted to get to know him more. you took a step towards the porch before turning to jake. “this is me…” you trailed.

he had given you his number on the walk over so you could talk more about the summer plans you had come up with. “it was nice getting to know you today,” jake spoke softly, a smile slipping onto his lips. you nodded and agreed with him.

“thank you for making my summer more interesting! if it weren’t for your bucket list idea i probably would just stay in the house the whole summer whenever i’m not working at the juice bar…” you chuckled. jake joined in with you and said that it was no problem.

for a second, you thought that he was going to kiss you, like how this scene played out before in so many movies. an awkward smile overcame your face and you took another step towards the door. “i’ll see you later?” you asked, taking more steps towards the door.

“absolutely! after your shift tomorrow—you did say you worked tomorrow, right?” jake asked and you nodded in reply. he then said, “i’ll see you tomorrow then!”

when you finally got into the house you inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. you took your shoes and jacket off by the door just as your mom came down the stairs. “you were gone all day! where have you been?” she asked curiously and made her way to the kitchen.

following her, you responded, “just out exploring the town… i made a new friend!” she hummed and turned to raise her eyebrows at the last part. “new friend? that’s good, honey! maybe you won’t be inside all summer,” she teased.

the two of you laughed and you made your way upstairs to get ready for bed. you placed the disposable camera on your dresser, a small smile coming to your lips as you thought about the day you just had. slipping into bed, you tried to not let the excitement for tomorrow not let you sleep and closed your eyes.

jake: meet me at our spot? jake: after your shift, of course.

your shift had just ended when jake had texted you. the two of you texted all night about potential bucket list ideas for the summer but neither of you had decided on anything concrete.

you: i’ll see you there!

when you got to you and jake’s “spot”, he was waiting there for you, two drinks in hand while sitting in the sand. the sunlight from up above perfectly lit him up and made his blonde hair glow. he extended one of the drinks out to you—the same drink you had gotten last night on your little adventure together—as he rose to his feet.

you thanked him with a warm smile and the two of you had begun going over different ideas for your bucket list. “remember though, i’m only here for three months! it can’t be anything crazy like going skydiving or anything,” you told jake as you sat side by side in the sand near the entrance of the cave.

jake nodded and pretended to cross something off midair. “got it—no skydiving,” he said with a playful pout. you giggled at him while nudging him with your shoulder as you rolled your eyes.

“what about… surfing?” you asked, turning to jake. “i’ve never been surfing before, but that’s mainly because i can’t swim… maybe that isn’t a good idea actually.” you let out a nervous laugh as you recalled the way you and jake met and your cheeks heated from the embarrassment.

“lucky for you,” jake said while standing to his feet and putting his hands on his hips, “you have the number one lifeguard here to teach you and look out for you!” jake started flexing in various poses, making you laugh as you looked up at him.

“seriously, though. i can teach you! nothing will happen to you on my watch,” jake exclaimed as he sat back down. you shrugged, he was your best option considering that he’s literally a lifeguard. if something went south, at least you knew you’d survive with him by your side. nodding, you agreed, “okay, deal!”

you and jake spent the rest of the time at your spot debating on various things you both wanted to do for your bucket list. other than him teaching you how to surf, the both of you also came up with stargazing, going to the summer splash charity event, and doing something adventurous—like skinny dipping.

the summer splash charity event is a party that raises money to provide resources for the sheltered animals in town. according to jake, it happens every year and everyone goes to it. it’s a formal event that everyone dresses to the nines for. you made a mental note to ask your mom about it to see if she had a dress you could borrow.

“skinny dipping?!” you whipped around to where jake was sitting, feet in the water as he mindlessly dipped his finger into it. he looked back to where you were standing, “what? you said you wanted to do something adventurous and that’s the first thing i thought of!”

you wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly self conscious, as you shifted your weight from one leg to the other. noticing the change in your body language, jake stood as came up to you slowly. “we can do it at night when the beach is completely empty—or not at all if you’re not comfortable. it’s completely up to you,” jake said softly.

you looked down to your feet as you thought about it. you did tell him that you wanted to do something adventurous this summer, break out of your shell. there’s nothing more adventurous and nothing that screams “breaking out of your shell” quite like skinny dipping does. you inhaled deeply, “no… let’s do it—only at night though and only when the beach is completely empty.”

jake’s eyebrows raised but you couldn’t miss the slight smirk that was making its way onto his lips. “are you sure?” he asked seriously.

you hit jake in the arm. “don’t pretend like you aren’t excited to see a naked girl!” you joked, trying to lift the tension. the smirk on his face shifted to a grin and he broke out into a laugh. jake held his hands up in the air and turned away from you. “i can’t say that i’m not,” he replied.

the first month of your stay was almost coming to an end and it seemed as if you and jake were attached at the hip. for the entire month, jake had shown you the ins and outs of the small seaside town until you knew it like the back of your hand. your disposable cameras had filled up and you had to buy another one from all the pictures you’ve taken.

a smile came to your face and heat spread across your cheeks as you thought about one of the special pictures you’ve taken just yesterday. you and jake were out on the town again, him showing you this skate park that nobody really uses anymore. the two of you sat on the edge of the ramp and you listened as jake pointed out various graffitied names and told you about the people behind them.

it was nighttime, and you knew you should start heading home before it got too late out, but—like always—you didn’t want your time with jake to end. the moment grew quiet and your eyes traveled over all the different names and made up different stories for them. you felt a pair of eyes on you and looked over to where jake was staring intently at you.

“i’m glad i got to meet you,” he said softly, leaning closer to you. you looked away briefly, a flustered smile lighting up your features and face heating. you couldn’t imagine a different timeline where you didn’t meet jake.

“i’m glad i got to meet you, too,” you replied shyly. jake smiled and reached his hand up to cup your cheek. for another moment, which seemed everlasting, the two of you looked into each other’s eyes. when his lips pressed to yours, everything felt as if it fell into place. it felt as if this was the moment when everything clicked—when you knew what you’d finally been looking for.

you were filled with passion that threatened to break out. you pulled jake closer and the thought of needing to breathe didn’t even cross your mind. that was, until your lungs screamed for air and you and jake finally pulled away from each other.

a smile broke out onto your face and it did on jake’s as well. he chuckled slightly and held your hands in his. then his eyes lit up suddenly and he was pushing himself off the ground and jogging over to where your bags were.

“what are you doing?” you giggled, turning fully to where he stood. he dug in both of your bags and pulled out the cameras. jake then jogged back over to you, dropping back down to the ground next to you, and handed you your camera.

“you said you wanted physical memories, right?” jake held up his camera so that the two of you were in frame with all the graffitied names in the back. “say cheese!” he smiled and you laughed—which he caught with the flash of the camera.

“now you,” jake added, urging you to hold up your camera. you laughed again and held up your camera, head tilted against jake’s, as you snapped a picture. you turned to jake and he smiled at you. he then pressed a kiss to your cheek and laughed at how flustered you got from it, which he also managed to catch on camera.

when you did finally get home, drunk on the thought of the kiss you and jake shared, jungwon was waiting for you. he sat on the couch, some random show he wasn’t watching playing on the tv. when you stepped through the door, he turned towards you.

“you and jake have been spending a lot of time together…” jungwon trailed, eyebrows knitting together. the smile on your face vanished and you quickly took off your shoes.

“yeah…” you mumbled in reply, “what about it? we’re friends.” you didn’t mean for your words to come out so harsh, but you couldn’t help it. you were getting two different ideas of jake and you believed the one that came straight from the source more rather than the one that was passed around.

jungwon’s eyebrows raised slightly, “i just want you to be careful and to not get hurt. i told you, he’s a player, and i don’t want you to get caught up—“

“i’m a big girl, jungwon. i can handle myself,” you cut him off abruptly. anger pulsated through you. why does he keep telling you this? “jake isn’t like that—not anymore.”

before jungwon could speak again, you stormed off to your room. you refused to let his words ruin your night, not after you and jake had finally kissed. you tried to focus your mind on the kiss, the way his soft lips felt against yours and the tickle of his blonde hair—dark brown roots barely grown out—against your skin.

inhaling deeply, you got ready for bed. under the security of the covers, you opened up your phone to send a message to jake. a smile made its way across your face and it took everything in you not to squeal as you put your phone on your nightstand.

you: i had a really great time tonight! sweet dreams! jake: me too! sweet dreams, pretty.

you mentally slapped yourself to stop thinking about his text. “pretty,” he called you pretty. you giggled to yourself and turned over in your bed, shutting your eyes.

[ YOU KNOW I’LL “SEE YOU LATER” — 2ND MONTH ] ✈︎ sixty-two days until you return home.

it’s been almost a week since the kiss you and jake shared. the two of you had fallen naturally into things a couple do—go on what seem like dates, kiss and such. you were so sure that jake was going to ask you to be his girlfriend, yet he’s made nothing official.

you thought that maybe you were imagining the whole thing, that the two of you haven’t kissed at all and nothing has changed between the two of you, but that was until he kissed you again. and again. the only thing he asked you is if you wanted to go to a beach party one of his friends is having this weekend—which you agreed to.

you sat slumped against the counter of the juice bar. today was a slow day and you began regretting working there at all with how much your feet hurt. “i don’t know, what do you think? am i overthinking things? i just feel like he should’ve asked me by now…” you looked to your side to where your coworker, hana, leaned near the smoothie machine.

you met hana on your third day of working at the juice bar and the two of you became fast friends. you didn’t have a lot of shifts together, but when you did she told you all the gossip on some of the people around town who you’ve never met and probably never will. in return, you mainly shared your anxious thoughts revolving jake, which she didn’t seem to mind hearing.

“are you sure he’s not playing you?” hana asked, somewhat hesitantly. you sighed and looked away, focusing your attention on the ocean waves ahead. you hated how many times people asked you that question.

“there’s nothing to play if i’m not even his girlfriend,” you stated. to which hana responded with a “…not quite.”

“i know this is a sore subject for you so i’ll keep it brief, but what if he is?” she pushed off the counter and made her way over to you, slumping next to you as she looked at you. she rested her head in her hand, “i don’t really know this jake, but i have heard of him. and i’ve heard that he cheated on his last girlfriend. now that could just be a rumor, but he doesn’t exactly have the cleanest track record. the guy has hooked up with every girl he could lay his eyes on—what if he’s just trying to get into your pants?”

you groaned and buried your face in your arms. this really didn’t help with your overthinking. what if jake was just trying to get into your pants? what if this all was some elaborate scheme to get close to the new girl so he could sleep with you? what if he wasn’t the person he was making himself out to be?

“what if he is?” you asked, voice muffled. you already knew the answer, hana didn’t even need to say it. and she didn’t. hana rubbed comforting circles onto your back instead.

“my shift is about to end… i really hope that what i said isn’t true y/n, but for your own sake… i would be careful around him.” you got up from the counter, nodding at hana and her departure, and sighed again. from your pocket you felt your phone buzz and looking at it, you laughed wryly. the universe really does have a way with things…

jake: hang out with me after your shift? jake: we can get a move on with our bucket list and i can teach you how to surf!

you wanted to bang your head off the counter at how your heart fluttered from him messaging you. you wanted to heed everyone’s constant warnings, but a part of you wanted to push them out of your head. a part of you wanted to cast caution to the wind and take the leap of faith. jake couldn’t be playing you, he couldn’t. that just didn’t seem like him. a part of you wanted to keep moving forward with your relationship, close your eyes to the fact that you could very well be walking down the path of getting hurt.

at this point, you were in too deep. if you got hurt, then you got hurt. at least then you’d know it was real—at least for you. caution be damned. you inhaled sharply as your fingers typed out your response:

you: of course! meet me at the beach after i grab my swimsuit? jake: i’ll see you later!

after your shift ended—and you ran back home to grab your swimsuit—you met jake at the beach like you both agreed. he was already clad in swim trunks, the lack of shirt shocking you for a quick second, and leaning against the surfboard he had next to him. “you ready?” jake asked as you walked up to him, a smile gracing his lips as he pushed off his surfboard.

you nodded, eager to get into the water and cool down your heated cheeks. the two of you made your way into the water together after he grabbed another surfboard for himself, passing the one he was carrying to you.

jake had begun teaching you how to actually even get on the board, firstly getting onto your stomach and then eventually standing. when you finally cheered at the fact that you were able to stand and not embarrassingly slide off into the water, he then taught you how to actually ride a wave.

“steady… and then up!” jake guided next to you as the two of you caught a small wave. when you surfed back to the shore you jumped to your feet and cheered, wrapping your arms around his bare torso.

“i did it! i did it!” you cheered, twirling you and jake as he laughed. you pulled away from him, smile still as big as the sun. jake pulled you into a brief kiss, pulling away with a proud smile. “you did it!” jake cheered back.

with your flustered gaze, you turned back to the oncoming waves with newfound courage, but instead noticed something else. in the distance, you could see someone flailing in the water. their head went under with the oncoming waves. in wordless shock all you could do was point towards the water while hitting jake’s arm until the words finally spilled from your mouth, “someone’s drowning!”

jake turned towards the direction you pointed in just as the person in the water gasped for air and went back under. his eyes widened and he briefly looked around at the lifeguards present on the beach. when he saw that none of them were paying attention, he picked up his surfboard from the sand and took off towards the water.

you stood back on the shore, worry eating at you as jake pulled the person onto the surfboard and swam them back to shore. it reminded you of how he saved you on your first day here. when he reached shore you helped him get the unconscious person onto the sand as one of the lifeguards ran towards your direction.

your eyes widened in horror as you realized it was your friend, hana. jake alternated doing mouth to mouth and chest compressions on her until her eyes sprang open and she coughed up water. “oh my god, hana! are you okay?” you bent down to ask with furrowed brows, cradling her cheek with your hand.

weakly, she nodded and smiled at you. hana turned her attention to jake, her smile widened as she let out a hoarse “thank you, you saved my life!” jake gave her a tight-lipped smile and nodded, his eyes finding yours. the two of you backed up as the lifeguard on duty took over.

“that’s one of my good friends from work!” you exclaimed as you looked back at the scene, brows knitted together. “i really hope she’s okay… almost drowning is really scary.”

jake’s hand found yours and he pulled you back to where your towels were. his face was weirdly blank and there was what almost seemed to be a scowl on his lips. you put a hand on his shoulder and leaned towards him, “hey… you alright?”

jake just nodded, giving you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “that was just kinda hectic… why don’t we go do something else instead of surfing again?” he asked you. you nodded, an empathetic smile forming on your lips.

the weekend had arrived and the beach party that seemed to be the talk of the town was tonight. instead of being excited for your first ever beach party, you were nervously shifting your phone in your hands. since the whole beach incident, it’s been almost radio silence from jake. when he was answering your texts, they were only one word replies or dry texts.

you didn’t understand what had gone wrong. at first you thought he needed space. saving someone’s life was no easy feat and definitely had to take a toll on him, but you wanted to be there for him any way that you could.

when you saw him one day while working, he acted like he didn’t even hear you calling him—choosing to instead hurry off with one of his friends. your heart dropped and hana rubbed more comforting circles into your back as you tried not to cry. “he really seems like he’s playing you, y/n…” hana had trailed off hesitantly, knowing how much of a sensitive issue this was for you. “maybe you should just end things officially with him.”

what if jake was playing you?

you did the finishing touches on your outfit for the party and took another look at yourself in the mirror, a small smile forming on your lips. it was just your bathing suit and a simple cover up, but you looked good, if you did say so yourself. you grabbed your phone again, hoping to hear from jake but knew that you wouldn’t. sighing, you threw your phone onto your bed.

you debated even going to the stupid party—in fact, you were already an hour and a half late for it. what was the point if the person who invited you wasn’t even talking to you? but you thought fuck that. you were going to go out and enjoy your summer at a party you were going to have fun at, with or without jake.

after doing another once over in the mirror, you grabbed your things and made your way downstairs for the walk down to the beach. if jake was going to ignore you, you were going to ignore him right back. tonight, you were only going to care about you, not him. two can play at this petty game.

you could hear the music playing from the party, which only got louder and louder the nearer you got to it. there were bodies everywhere, including those in the water. everyone was clad in their bathing suits, either chatting with others or pulling each other into the water. you made your way over to where a bar was set up and grabbed yourself a drink.

you didn’t want to get too drunk tonight, since you were alone, but you wanted something in your system. nursing the drink, you wandered around to find something to do. it dawned on you how little people you knew here. you didn’t really expand your friendships much besides jake and hana.

the cool night breeze made you shiver slightly, so you decided to make your way over to where there was a campfire set up. there were plenty of people around it and maybe you could meet some new friends. that’s when your heart dropped.

just a few feet ahead of you was jake and his friends, no doubt drunk out of their minds. you wondered how you didn’t hear their loud bantering over the music, but you guess that it all sort of blended in. jake sat on a beach chair, some random girl in his lap with his hand resting on her ass. it wasn’t any girl you recognized.

what the fuck, you thought, anger bubbling up inside you. i knew it, i should’ve knew he was playing me like the fucking fool i am. just at that moment you and jake made eye contact, the smile on his face faltering as he took in your look of pure devastation. you should’ve just stayed home.

turning on your feet, your eyes scanned for somewhere you could run to, but seeing nowhere good enough they landed on the water ahead. it’ll have to do.

you stripped off your bathing suit cover and speed walked with fevered passion out towards the water, hoping that the darkness will cover up your tracks. you didn’t even care that the water was freezing cold, you couldn’t feel it with how the anger was heating up your skin. instead, you dipped your head underwater for a couple seconds, complete silence and darkness calming you briefly, before surfacing again. luckily, jake didn’t follow you out—if you could even consider that luck.

as soon as you surfaced, you were face to face with a stranger you didn’t know. you let out a shocked gasp and moved backwards. “sorry,” the stranger awkwardly chuckled, giving you some space. “i saw you storm in the water—it’s not safe to be out here in the dark swimming in the ocean alone.”

you quirked an eyebrow at him, “what’s it to you?” you really didn’t need more people making this moment difficult for you.

his face lit up like he forgot to mention a very crucial piece of information. “oh! uh—i’m a lifeguard.” he held out his hand to you, the moonlight illuminating it. what was up with you and lifeguards? you hesitantly took it and gave him a wary smile. “i’m jay. you’re jake’s girl, right?”

your smile immediately dropped. you weren’t “jake’s girl,” and it was clear that you never was. all you were to him was some pawn in a game you didn’t even really know you were playing. “not jake’s girl,” you responded.

you looked back to the campfire, seeing that jake and some of his friends were nowhere to be found. you turned back to jay, “and i guess you’re right. i can't swim that well anyways.” a sheepish smile made it’s way onto your face.

“maybe i should get you back to shore then…” jay laughed, “get you warmed up by the campfire? it’s pretty chilly out here and i wouldn’t want you to get sick.” you nodded and the two of you swam back to the shore together. as soon as you stepped out, your teeth chattered and your body shook like a leaf. all the heat from the anger dissipated and now you were just cold.

you and jay sat side by side on a log, the flames from the fire drying you off and warming your bodies. after a couple moments, jay turned to you and said, “you don’t seem to be one who falls for a player’s antics like jake’s.”

caught completely by surprise, you cleared your throat slightly as you thought of something to say. you weren’t one to fall for a player, especially after being warned so much about him. it was unlike you. but there was just something about jake that kept luring you in, like a lamb to the slaughter. “i guess i was too caught up in being in a new town that i put caution aside…” you trailed, staring down at your hands.

jay hummed, “ah, new girl. i see.” you looked over to him and nodded, trying to lighten the mood with a small laugh. “you live and you learn,” jay added, almost solemnly. it made you wonder what he had to go through to give you such advice. you didn’t have the chance to ask before you saw jake barreling his way over towards you, stumbling over his own feet.

he stood across the fire from you and jay, anger dripping from his face. “wow, you move on quick!” he seethed, eyes locking on yours. jake’s accent was heavy and thick, words slurred. you scoffed at him. did he think you didn’t see him with that other girl on his lap?

you shot up from your seat, “i move on quick? me? you literally had some girl on your lap after ignoring me for days, jake.” in the corner of your eyes you saw the attention the two of you were gathering. people dipping by other’s ears to whisper about the two of you. you didn’t even have to guess what they were saying. you knew that it had to be something along the lines of “jake sim strikes again! another stupid girl fell into his trap. they just don’t know how to learn.”

ignoring your words, jake instead said, “i didn’t know you were such a whore, y/n.” you face contorted to one of hurt and you took a small step back, the back of your foot knocking against the log you were just seated on.

jay jumped from the log, moving ever so slightly to step in front of you. “what the fuck, man?” jay hissed towards jake. jake didn’t even pay him any attention, his eyes never left yours.

you didn’t know how everything went so wrong. it seemed like just yesterday jake was kissing you for the first time at the abandoned skate park. now everything was so twisted and you were left standing in the center of it all. you desperately tried to not let tears well up in your eyes. jake didn’t get to go treat you this way—he didn’t get to win. you looked him dead in the eyes, “what the fuck is wrong with you, jake?”

before he could answer, his friend came up to him and slang and arm around his shoulder. you recognized him, despite jake never introducing you to any of his friends. park sunghoon, jake’s bestfriend and right-hand man—and no doubt another player. his eyes glided over your body, still somewhat wet from your dip in the ocean. his lips curled up into a smirk, “who’s this jake? victim number…” he trailed off into a laugh, eyes hooded from the alcohol. “oh wait… i lost count,” sunghoon laughed again.

the anger disappeared from jake’s face, now replaced with complete detachment as he turned to sunghoon and laughed. you literally couldn’t believe what you were seeing. was this how he treated every girl who had unfortunately fallen into his web?

“she’s cute,” sunghoon said, eye’s trailing you again. you had the urge to cover up, pulling your bathing suit cover tighter around you, suddenly feeling disgusted at the fact that they were talking about you like you weren’t even there.

“make your move, i bet she’ll let you take her right here,” jake replied, looking at you. your mouth opened in shock and you were frozen in place. jake was like a completely different person. no—this must’ve been the real him he was hiding from you to get in your pants. you were in such shock that you didn’t even see jay’s fist connecting with jake’s face until they were rolling around in the sand throwing more fists at each other.

you stood in the same spot, unmoving, as more of jake’s friends showed up and pulled them apart before anything serious could happen besides some cut lips. jake pushed his friends off of him and stormed off towards a group of girls—the one girl in particular who was in his lap earlier. he pulled her towards up and smashed his lips onto her’s, all the while making direct eye contact with you.

you looked away, scoffing to yourself as you made your way to where jay stood brushing sand off himself. “i’m so sorry, are you okay?” you asked while aiding him in brushing off sand.

in lieu of a reply, jay hissed, “he’s such a fucking asshole. how did you even get caught up in his drama?” when jay turned to you, there wasn’t any anger in his eyes—at least, not towards you. it was a genuine question, and somehow that made you feel worse about everything.

you looked back over to where jake stormed off to to see that him and his friends—and the girl he kissed—were all walking over to the ocean to swim. they left abandoned articles of clothing in their wake as they started to chase each other into the water. you sighed mellowly, “i thought he was different, not who everyone said he was… it turns out i was wrong. he’s exactly like how everyone says he is.”

you couldn’t help the stray tear that escaped your eye, quickly moving your hand to wipe it away. you felt jay’s eyes on you as you stared down at your toes in the sand. he doesn’t get to win, you thought, opening your mouth to speak as you looked up at jay.

jay beat you to it. “let’s get a drink. take your mind off of it?” he offered. you closed your mouth and nodded, walking side by side with him towards the bar.

you were well past tipsy now as you and jay spent however long talking and getting to know each other. just as the two of you were in the middle of a conversation about your favorite aquatic animal, jake walked up to you. his head was down and he looked like a kicked puppy as he stood in front of you. he was only in his swim trunks and almost completely dry, so you were guessing it’s been a while since he’s been out of the water. “y/n…” he trailed, looking up at you through slightly wet strands of blonde hair.

“the fuck do you want, jake? here to call me a whore again? just leave me alone,” you waved a hand in the air at him, taking a sip from your drink. jake tried to take your hand in his but you snatched it out of his grip. you were guessing he was sober now.

“can we please just talk?” jake asked. his eyes skimmed over to jay who was glaring at him. “privately?” jake added. you laughed at him. is he serious?

“she told you to leave her alone, dude,” jay said, tone a little harsh.

jake rolled his eyes, they landed on jay with a glare, “shut the fuck up, jay. this has nothing to do with you.” jake turned his gaze back to you, gaze softening completely. he almost looked sorry. you almost laughed again.

“please, y/n. just five minutes and you’ll never have to see me again,” jake pleaded.

next to you, jay scoffed. “you promise?” jay cooed towards jake and jake’s glare immediately came back as his eyes snapped towards him. you sighed.

“five minutes, jake. that’s all i’m giving you to explain everything,” you spoke quietly. jay looked over at you. in his eyes you saw his question, “are you sure?” you gave him a slight nod and then stood. “don’t waste my time,” you added.

you wobbled slightly as you stood and jake took your hand. again, you pulled it out of his grasp. “i can walk by myself,” you bit out. jake’s eyebrows raised in slight shock but he said nothing as he guided you to somewhere private.

he led you a little bit away from where the party was, but close enough that you still heard the music blasting from the speakers. he pulled you behind an empty stand where wandering eyes couldn’t see you. you turned to him with a deep sigh and raised brows raised as you crossed your arms. “time is ticking,” is all you said.

“she meant nothing… i promise. it's you i want, y/n,” jake started, hands coming to rest on your shoulders. you rolled your eyes at him. meant nothing? so he thinks you’re stupid.

“doesn’t seem that way to me,” you countered. you turned to walk away. if he was just going to lie to you then there wasn’t any point of hearing him out. jake grabbed your hand and pulled you back towards him. he cupped your cheek and guided your gaze back up to his. “i’m serious. it is you that i want. my head was everywhere and the alcohol didn’t help and i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, y/n, i didn’t want to hurt you.”

in your head you cursed him for being so alluring, and then cursed yourself for drinking so much because now you were melting like puddy in his hands. you didn’t want to believe him, you really didn’t, but the more you searched his eyes, the more you saw the truth in them. jake wanted you, that much was the truth. but was he truly sorry… that was to be determined.

the anger in your eyes softened and your eyes glazed over, “why would you do that, jake? you don’t talk to me for days and then i come here and see you all up on some girl? after spending so much time with me and acting like we’re a couple?” you swear you saw jake’s heart break as he pulled you into his chest.

“i know, baby, i know i messed up and i’m sorry. let me make it up to you and show you that you’re the only one who matters to me,” jake said softly and you pulled away to look at him. he pressed his lips to yours, his hand cupping your face gently. you shivered slightly at his touch and the petname falling from his lips. a fire lit up inside you and you pressed your lips to his harder, wrapping your arms around his neck.

jake backed you up against the empty stand, lifting you so you sat onto the ledge that was lower than the actual stand. he pulled away from you slightly, enough for the both of you to catch your breath. “tell me now if you don’t want this and i’ll stop,” jake breathed.

you kissed him again, skin hot in all the places he touched you. “i want this,” you briefly broke apart to say. jake dropped to his knees between your legs. you shifted slightly as he pressed kisses onto your bare inner thighs, lifting your legs so they rested over his shoulders.

“uh—jake…” you stammered, eyes fluttering closed for a quick second. jake hummed, looking up at you with a raised brow. “i-i’m a virgin… i’ve never done any of this before…”

jake’s lips curled into a wicked smirk. he rose, thumbs trailing your thighs and kissed you. “that’s okay,” he said as he got to his knees again, “i’ll take good care of you, baby.”

you gave him a sheepish smile as you lifted your bathing suit cover to pool around your hips. you then lifted your hips so jake could take your bottoms off and scooted to the edge of the ledge you were sitting on.

once your bottoms were off, you shivered slightly from the sudden coldness. more from the way jake was now pressing kisses close to your core. it was embarrassing how you were absolutely dripping for him despite being angry at him not too long ago, but either jake didn’t notice or didn’t seem to care much. he returned your legs back to his shoulders.

jake’s mouth latched onto your clit and his tongue swirled around it. you jumped, a moan escaping your lips as your back arched slightly. his tongue continued to swirl around your clit and his lips sucked in, making your back arch more. your fingers ran through his blonde hair, grabbing at it to try and steady yourself. jake looked up at you and you could feel the smirk on his lips.

your breath was heavy and you shamelessly moaned from how good jake was making you feel. if there was one good thing that came out of all of this, it was finding out just how good jake was with his tongue. you were so high on cloud nine that you moaned a little too loud once you felt jake slowly enter a finger into you, testing the waters, pulling in and out slowly. he then slowly slid in another finger, the stretch making your head whirl.

jake laughed, the vibrations sending shockwaves throughout your body. you gasped when his fingers angled up, pressing right against your sweet spot, and bucked your hips forward. “feels so good,” you whimpered. “p-please don’t stop!”

you legs began to shake and the pleasure was so much that you couldn’t help but rock your hips towards jake’s mouth and fingers. jake started to to hum against your clit lightly, fingers moving faster. you gripped his hair and the edge of the ledge tigher, “just how many girls have you treated like this?” you breathed out between moans. your eyes were squeezed shut and you felt how close you were to being undone. “is this what you do to get back on their good side?” you asked.

jake pulled his mouth away from you and your eyes fluttered open to look down at him from the loss. his fingers continued to move rapidly. “you wouldn’t be the only girl,” jake commented. you didn’t even get a chance to respond as he pressed his fingers against your walls and you came undone onto his fingers. you squeezed your eyes shut and cried out, chest rising and falling harshly.

when you came down from your high, with the aid of jake and now suddenly sober, you opened your eyes just as he pulled his fingers out of you and to his mouth while rising to his feet. you glared at him harshly as he licked his fingers clean, mouth and chin wet with your arousal and blonde hair messy. looking behind you, you reached for some napkins and cleaned yourself up before putting your bathing suit bottoms back up.

you threw the rest of the napkins at his face and pushed him away from you as you jumped off the ledge. “you’re such an asshole,” you muttered angrily as you stormed back off in the direction of the party. from behind you, you could hear jake calling your name as he jogged after you.

“fuck off, jake!” you yelled, not bothering to turn around as you moved faster.

when you got back to the party, you went up to the campfire where jay was still sitting, a bottle in his hands. “thanks for talking to me tonight, but i’m gonna head home actually,” you told him, trying to give him your best fake smile but it instead coming out in a half grimace. you heard your name being called and jay stood.

“i’ll walk you home,” jay said as he placed his bottle in the sand against the log. you nodded and the two of you quickly walked off.

the walk back to your house was silent. you mainly processed the series of events that just happened. how could you be so stupid? once again, you fell into jake’s trap. when will you learn?

you didn’t even realize you made it to the front of your aunt’s house, too lost in your own thoughts to notice your feet moving on their own, until jay said, “are you going to be okay?” you looked over to him in slight shock, thinking about his question for a moment.

shrugging, you responded, “i’m not sure yet. for now i will be, i guess. thanks for walking me home, jay. i really appreciate it.” jay gave you a nod, not entirely convinced. “anytime,” he spoke and watched as you walked up to the front door and entered the house.

you ran to the bathroom, wanting to rub your skin clean until it was raw. you stayed under the water for a while until it started to run cold and stayed for a little more after that, tears being washed away from the stream. when you did finally get out, you laid in your bed unable to sleep.

you phone was being blown up by jake and you just didn’t have the energy for him right now, so you turned your phone off. you didn’t want to hear anymore of his excuses—or truths, you still couldn’t decipher which was which. you just hoped that sleep would come to you soon and you wouldn’t dream of him.

when you woke up in the morning from a dreamless sleep, the first text your eyes saw as you checked the time on your phone was from jake. you sighed softly, telling yourself you’ll check the rest of his messages later. the message your eyes scanned was:

jake: meet me at our spot? i didn’t mean what i said. it wasn’t my intention for it to come off that way. please answer, y/n. i know you wake up around this time, so please meet me there when you see this.

you weighed his message in your head, deciding to ignore it entirely or to meet with him. after pacing around your room, you decided to meet with him. this was it—you were putting an end to everything. no more games. you were only going to meet with jake for closure, to finally see if his words have been truths or lies.

you got ready for the day, thankful that you didn’t have to work at the juice bar, and mentally hyped yourself up. you couldn’t let yourself be lured in by jake’s trap again; acting like a pushover for him. you wanted answers, not to lose yourself in his warm and inviting brown eyes. not to think about how good he made you feel last night—despite the memories clouding around your racing mind making your heart do flips.

leaving the house, you made your way down to the beach with newfound confidence.

when you reached the open cave-like entrance, you saw jake sitting in the sand lost in thought waiting for you. his eyes immediately snapped to your figure when he saw you approach. jake looked like he hadn’t slept, eyes rimmed red and dark circles sinking in his eyes. his blonde hair was in every direction as if he’d been running his fingers through it constantly and his plain shirt was wrinkled.

jake slid his phone that he was clutching into his pants pocket as he stood to his feet. hesitantly, you walked up to him, stopping a few feet short of him. you left your expression purposefully blank as you quirked a brow at him.

“i didn’t mean it like that,” jake started, taking a few steps towards you. he furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the side slightly.

“so how else did you mean it, jake? i’m tired of playing this game with you.”

jake sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “i mean—i did mean it like that,” he closed the distance between the two of you and grabbed your hands, effectively removing them from where they were sitting across your chest. jake slid his thumbs across them as he spoke.

“but not with you. i won’t lie and say that i don’t have a reputation—“

you cut him off, tone harsh as you pushed away from him. “a reputation of being a player? of stringing girls along; using their feelings for you against them to get in their pants? your reputation precedes you, jake, and i’m not going to be your next victim.”

“and you won’t be—that life, me being a player, it’s over. it’s in the past—canceled, i promise you. i meant what i said to you yesterday, baby. i want to be with you and i’m sorry for making you think that i didn’t.” jake stepped forward and cupped your face, tilting your head so you looked in his eyes and saw the sincerity in them. you exhaled softly and your eyes fluttered shut.

jake continued, “as soon as i got into that water, i immediately sobered up and knew i fucked up. i shouldn’t have spoken to you like that—shouldn’t have let my friends speak to you like that. that was really shitty. i’m so sorry.” you opened your eyes and they grazed across the cut on his lip from his fight with jay.

your arms hung limply at your sides as your mind struggled to come up with any thought whatsoever. it was silent for a moment. “you ignored me for a whole week straight. pretended that i didn’t even exist to you,” was all you managed to say.

jake sighed again and shut his eyes briefly like he was having an inner battle with himself. “my head has been everywhere this week, baby. i’m sorry. lifeguarding has been more taxing than usual and i’m really not in my right mind. the alcohol last night really didn’t help either, like i said.”

your eyes softened. it was just as you expected. “so why didn’t you tell me all of this? i could’ve helped you—been there for you!” your words were light, but your insistence made jake look up.

jake just shrugged, not knowing what to say. he settled on, “i didn’t know how to explain it all. i’m not that good at telling people how i feel—clearly.”

you rested a hand on his cheek, a small smile coming to your lips. “it’s something we can work on… why don’t we do something from our bucket list today? help get your mind off lifeguarding?” you suggested. jake’s face lit up and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him.

a cheeky smile played on jake’s mouth as he nodded and you rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest lightly. you pointed to the shallow water coming in from the ocean, “if you say skinny dipping i’m drowning you in the water over there!”

jake’s smile widened, a pretty laugh leaving his lips. it was a sound you could hear forever. “i wasn’t! i was gonna suggest we go stargazing.”

he pulled you closer to him and bent down towards you, breath fanning across your neck and his nose sending a shiver down your spine from the way it trailed along the skin near your ear. “but if you wanted to skinny dip i wouldn’t be opposed,” he whispered, voice dripping like honey.

you inhaled sharply at the way jake brushed his lips against your jaw ever so slightly. you didn’t even notice the way your grip tightened around his shirt at his chest. all you could think about was his lips at your core making you feel so good. better than you could ever do for yourself. the way his fingers reached deep inside you and pressed against spots that you couldn’t reach yourself no matter how hard you tried.

breath hitching, you tried to control your breathing as you let out a chuckle that you hoped sounded playfully annoyed, but instead came out as nervous as you felt. with all the strength you could muster, which was barely any at all, you pushed at his chest again and jake took a couple small steps back. that same wicked smirk from last night curled his lips upwards.

god, that smirk. if given the chance, you knew that jake sim would absolutely ruin you. you knew that he would worship every inch of your skin while completely defiling your innocence.

you subtly pressed your legs together at the thought of his hands wandering over your naked body and bit your lip at how it would feel when he finally slid into you. no, you couldn’t think such dirty things with him looking at you like he knew every thought running through your head right now.

you kept your eyes firmly on the grains of sand beneath the two of you until you were sure your thoughts were clear.

once the dignity started to come back to you, you slowly looked up at him. you plastered a playful smile on and raised your brows while crossing your arms across your chest. “you’re on timeout. so going skinny dipping—and whatever dirty little thoughts are running though your head with the idea—not happening. got it?”

you were definitely projecting with your statement, even if you both were most likely thinking the same things. jake’s wicked smirk remained on his lips, this time more playful than wicked. he raised a singular brow at you, head tilting subtly. he didn’t even need to speak for you to get the connotation.

we’ll see about that, won’t we?

you and jake spent the rest of the morning together, hanging around the beach taking various photos with your disposable camera, until you got called in to work to cover a shift. you had just finished cleaning the blenders at the juice stand when jake scared you, suddenly announcing his arrival while leaning across the counter with a shit-eating grin.

gasping loudly with a hand pressed to your heart, you took the hand towel you were holding and smacked him with it, making him laugh. you couldn’t help the smile that spread on your face at jake being here. your shift so far was boring, your friend hana wasn’t working today and nobody was really buying anything either. you desperately needed the distraction.

“what are you doing here?” you smiled, leaning across the counter in front of jake. your faces were mere inches away and jake closed the gap by pressing a kiss to your lips.

“i wanted to see you,” he replied, smile never leaving his face. that was, until jay showed up to order a drink.

“how are you, jay?” you asked as you started the process of his drink, turning slightly to look at him. he was soaking wet, no doubt just getting off one of his shifts. running a hand through his damp hair he breathed out harshly, smile not reaching his eyes as he shook his head a little.

“you know how lifeguarding is…” he trailed off. you gave him a sympathetic smile, definitely not knowing how lifeguarding is, but from your talk with jake earlier, you could only imagine.

jake shifted in his seat, turning to face jay. “yeah… i do,” he spoke. you glanced over to him as you poured jay’s drink in one of the to-go cups. jake’s mouth was pressed into a thin line and his eyes sharp. they were both deadly silent and you had the feeling they weren’t talking about lifeguarding.

slowly, you slid the drink you just made towards jay as your eyes flicked between the two of them. their staring contest was cut short by one of jake’s friend’s calling his name. reluctantly, he got up to meet them, eyes flicking to you before turning around. what was that all about?

jay’s eyes slid to you, a sigh escaping his lips. “i hope you know what you’re doing, y/n,” he said before handing you the money for his drink and standing from his seat. your brows furrowed in question but before you could ask what he meant, jay spoke again.

“there’s no winner in the player’s game. it’s best to know that before it’s too late.”

jay then left, leaving you with your mouth hanging open. your mind was surprisingly blank despite his words that you were desperately trying to process. to distract yourself, you began tidying up.

jake came back up to the stand just as you finished, his friend—sunghoon, if you remember correctly from his hurtful words at the beach party—following suit. your eyebrows were raised in slight shock as you tried to keep the scowl from off your face. jake said nothing, just waved his hand towards you while looking at sunghoon in a “well…” kind of way.

sunghoon sighed while leaning on the stand towards you. “uh… listen, y/n…” he looked towards jake in question and jake gave him a small nod without taking his eyes off you. sunghoon continued, “i was a real asshole for what i said at the beach party—real shitty. i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

he scratched the back of his neck and his apology hung in the air for a moment. you smiled awkwardly, eyes flicking between him and jake. clearing your throat slightly, you responded, “t-thank you? i appreciate the apology.”

it was awkward for another few moments before jake finally broke the silence. “so…” he started, dragging out the vowel as he leaned more over the counter towards you. “will you be my date to the summer splash event?”

sunghoon scoffed while turning towards jake, hitting him on the shoulder. “dude, you haven’t even asked her yet? the event is next month!” he exclaimed. a sheepish smile took over jake’s face as he leaned back into his chair. you raised your brows at him.

“yeah, jake, why haven’t you asked me yet?” you teased. sunghoon mirrored your expression and the two of you stared a hole into jake. he sunk into his seat.

“i may… have forgotten about the whole thing…” jake murmured. you and sunghoon laughed at him, sunghoon shaking his head as he turned back to you.

“yes, i’ll be your date to summer splash,” you laughed, causing jake’s smile to brighten.

the three of you talked more before they left for sunghoon’s house. before they did, jake leaned across the counter to meet where you already sat halfway. “are we okay?” he asked near your ear in a hushed tone. you nodded, a genuine smile on your face which caused one to appear on his. jake then brought you in for a kiss, which was quickly cut short by sunghoon going, “ugh, get a room!”

heat spread throughout your face and chuckles escaped jake’s mouth as he pressed another kiss to your warm cheeks. he was then pulling out his disposable camera, turning his back to you and holding it up in the air.

“group picture!” jake shouted as he pulled sunghoon towards him. sunghoon rolled his eyes, but smiled for the picture nonetheless. you gave the camera an embarrassed smile as the flash went off. jake chuckled again, bringing your lips together briefly before running off with a disgusted sunghoon.

you: meet me at our spot? jake: already here, baby. you don’t even have to ask! you: rolling my eyes right now… bring the blankets!

a couple days later, you and jake had planned to watch the stars at your shared spot since you were both too busy the day you originally planned. according to jake, it was the best spot to see as many stars as possible in the small town. jake had beaten to you the spot, already having the blankets and even pillows set up right under the opening in the ceiling.

the moon shown perfectly from the opening, illuminating jake and the area he had set up. “hi,” you smiled, setting the basket of wrapped sandwiches onto the blanket and plopping down next to jake. you looked up towards the ceiling at the stars, a soft smile taking over your features.

“hi,” jake replied. he moved closer to you until you were almost cheek and cheek to look up at the stars as well. “i told you it’s the best place to see them,” he added quietly. you looked over to him, smile still on your face, and giggled. jake’s smile widened and he brought you in for a kiss.

the two of you watched the stars for a while in silence, apart from the rustling of one of you unwrapping a sandwich. at some point, the two of you had laid down onto the blankets and pillows, you tucked into jake’s side, head resting on his chest as his fingers lazily traced patterns onto your arm and hip.

“the whole world outside disappears when it’s just the two of us in here,” jake softly said, causing you to look up at him. his eyes were focused on the stars until he felt the weight of your stare. he looked down, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“you’re right,” you smiled at him, continuing your watch of the stars. “we’re the only people in the world in here.” jake’s fingertips were suddenly lifting your chin to look up at him. once you did, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

smiling against his lips, you kissed him again, sitting up on your elbow to kiss him better. the kiss deepened, so much so that you got the urge to swing your leg across his to straddle him. but before it could go any farther than a kiss, jake pulled away. you both were breathing heavily as you stared into each other’s eyes, lips barely brushing.

“will you be my girlfriend?” jake breathed, searching your eyes for your answer. you giggled a little. it was funny that he even had to ask you. the answer was always going to be yes.

you nodded, smiling widely, “i thought you’d never ask…” you lips connected with his again, this time more passionate than the first. jake sat up onto his elbows, eyes fluttering closed.

“i’m sorry i took so long,” he murmured against your lips.

this time you did give into your urge. throwing your leg over both of his, you wrapped your arms around his neck. jake’s arms immediately came to sit around your waist, pulling you closer to him until you were chest and chest. the kiss was feverish, desperate. it’s what you wanted to do ever since you had gotten to know each other.

fire burned in the pit of your belly and you were overwhelmed with the sudden need to have jake as close to your body as possible. you needed more than his lips on yours and his arms around your waist. you didn’t even realize you grinded down onto him until he broke away from your kiss to let out a small whimper, forehead pressed to yours.

he trailed hot kisses along your jaw and down your neck all while you grinded down against him again. you felt like you were on fire as his lips found yours again and it was the only thing you could do but pull away and take off your shirt.

jake’s eyes landed on your breasts and the lacy bra covering them, but you didn’t let them linger before you were pulling off his shirt as well, completely driven by desire. next you were shimmying off of him until the shorts you were wearing were off too, leaving you only in your bra and panties.

the rational part of your brain finally kicked in when you heard jake unbuckling his belt. you broke away from his kiss, suddenly aware of what the two of you were about to do. heat spread up your neck and across your cheeks and you whispered, “i told you, you’re on timeout.”

jake’s mouth fell open in a shocked smile, hands freezing in place. in order to cool yourself down, you pulled yourself away from him and stood to your feet. turning your back towards him, you made your way to the ocean, stripping off your bra and panties in the process until you were completely naked. you glanced back at him with a playful smile.

you stepped a foot into the water and immediately shuttered at how cold it was, but you made yourself walk the rest of the distance until you were submerged up to your shoulders. you turned towards the cove where jake still sat frozen. “are you coming?” you called, giggling to yourself at the bulge in his shorts.

“you’re such a tease,” jake called back playfully, standing to his feet. you laughed, more teeth chattering than actual laughter. when jake started pulling down his shorts, you averted your gaze, suddenly interested in the ocean horizon.

you heard the pitter-patter of jake’s footsteps and the slight splashing of water behind you as he came closer. “you put on such a show, but now you can’t even face me?” jake said in a husky voice against your ear, chest pressed against your back, causing a shiver to go directly down your spine and your heartbeat to pick up.

jake trailed a wet finger across your shoulder and you inhaled sharply, trying to gain your composure. turning to him, you replied, “if you can’t handle the heat, stay out of the game.” you threw his signature smirk back at him and he laughed, coming closer to you until your noses were brushing up against each other. you tried to ignore the brushing against your thigh, but it was growing harder the more seconds that passed. instead you cupped your hand in the water and lifted it to drip the water onto jake’s head, pulling another laugh out of him.

grabbing your chin, jake lifted your head to kiss you deeply, his tongue dancing in your mouth with yours. pulling away, jake smirked. “you’re going to eat your words once i’m finished,” he said lowly, pressing kisses to the skin beneath your ear.

jake pressed you closer to him, his body heat helping to warm you from the cold water. his lips trailed back up to your ear and he added, “get use to the feeling of your body shaking.”

if your body wasn’t on fire before, it definitely was now. jake’s lips were back on yours, this time rougher. you were sure he could feel your heartbeat racing from how close you were to him, feel the heat creep up your neck with how your bare bodies were against each other. when you pulled away to satiate your burning lungs, jake caught hold of your bottom lip between his teeth. he bit down softly, the corners of his mouth raising at your reaction before letting go.

you hid your face in his chest as he trailed open-mouthed kisses up your shoulder. you resisted the urge to shiver. “jake, i—“ you cut yourself off, too embarrassed to bring the topic up.

“has anyone ever touched you like this?”

jake’s fingers trailed down your sides, stopping just at your hips and you took a sharp inhale. you shook your head as jake continued his kisses, going from up your shoulder to the side of your mouth. “don’t worry, pretty,” he whispered huskily, lips lingering over yours before giving you a feather light kiss. “i’ll be gentle… i promise.”

he intertwined his hand with yours and guided you back to the rock structure where your abandoned late night picnic resided. you laid down onto the blanket, looking up at him with big doe eyes from where your head laid on a pillow. his eyes took in your body finally, eyes widening more at every exposed inch he could see. when they landed on your soaked pussy he smirked subtly.

jake climbed over you, pressing a deep kiss to your lips. “are you sure you want this?” he asked you breathlessly. his eyes were squeezed shut and his brows were furrowed, like he was fighting the urge to not ravage you right then and there.

“yes… please. i’m ready,” you whispered.

eyes fluttering open, jake brought his lips to yours again. he then started to kiss down your body, making sure he kept eye contact with you. when you looked away, his gaze too intense, he would immediately stop and grab your chin to look back at him. “you don’t have to be nervous, baby. it’s just me.”

how could you not be nervous? the last time he was this close to your body was when he was eating you out at that beach party. and you were nervous then, too; never having someone attached to your core before. even then, you only remembered bits and pieces from the encounter—jake’s pretty mouth on your clit and the hazy sensation of his fingers inside you, stretching you out—you being too drunk to remember the full thing. this time you were completely, absolutely, sober with none of the confidence the alcohol gave you.

jake kissed right above your core, stopping with a smile against your skin. you thought he was going to speak, but he instead dove straight in, tongue flicking against your clit as his lips sucked.

you immediately moaned out, back arching off the soft fabric beneath you and head throwing back. you gripped the blanket tightly in your hands as jake wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep you from moving. he continued his motions, eyes never leaving you. your hand found his wet blonde hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you pulled at them. “please, jake!”

he hummed and you swear you saw stars, moaning loudly and trying to squirm away from his strong grip. “does that feel good?” jake asked you, breath fanning over your throbbing clit. all you could do was nod. “yeah?” jake asked, removing one of his hands from around your thighs.

his other hand rubbed at your clit with the pad of his thumb, sending jolts up your body, as the hand he freed teased at your entrance. you were a spluttering mess, desperate pleas for him to do something other than rub at your clit breaking the silence and clouding your thoughts. you barely even heard the chuckles that escaped jake’s lips as he kept teasing. he waited until you were practically writhing underneath his touch and begging him for more before he finally slid his fingers inside you achingly slow. you barely registered the slight pain, only the pleasure.

“you’re so pretty like this,” jake cooed.

you gasped as his fingers started to move, dragging against your gummy walls. the wetness making you dizzy and bringing tears to your eyes. jake’s pace only grew the more his fingers fucked into you, fingers curling and making your thighs tremble.

just as you moaned out a broken “g-gonna cum!” jake replaced his thumb running circles into your clit with his mouth, his tongue swirling around your poor clit. his hand went to hold your legs open when you tried to squeeze them together, the rope in your stomach about to snap.

when it did finally snap, you were gripping the blankets so hard that the clenching of your fingers started to hurt. you cried out, weakly trying to push jake’s head away with your other hand but getting nowhere. he didn’t stop, lips sucking your clit as squelching sounds emitting from your spent pussy with how your cum now dripped down his fingers still pushing in and out of your entrance.

the vibrations of jake’s laugh was like lighting throughout your body, shocking you to the core. you whimpered and jake finally pulled his lips away, satisfied with helping you ride out your high. he sat up on his knees and you looked up at him through half-closed eyes, brain foggy.

“you ready for more? baby?” jake asked before sticking his cum coated fingers in his mouth while staring down at you. he let out another hum, eyes fluttering closed briefly, “you taste so fucking good.”

you covered your face and sheepish smile with your hands and jake chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss on your lips once he was finished licking you up from his fingers. you could taste yourself on him. “are you ready?” jake asked and you nodded.

“words, pretty. i wanna hear you,” jake added, moving your hands away from your face. your body was on fire still, still reeling from your recent orgasm. jake pressed kisses to your cheeks.

“i’m ready,” you uttered meekly.

jake leaned back and now it was your turn for your eyes to trail along his body, not quite getting the chance when his head was between your thighs making you see other galaxies. his blonde hair fell in his eyes, which he dragged his fingers through to get out of his way. toned body still glistening from your dip naked in the ocean, making you want to run your fingers along the soft skin. and finally… his large hard cock hovering mere centimeters above your still throbbing pussy, precum leaking from his tip.

you didn’t know how you would fit all of him inside you, it barely looked like you could wrap your hand around him. but you were determined and you refused to back down. if you were going to have your first time with anybody, it would be jake sim.

“lift your hips for me, pretty.” your eyes snapped back to jake’s face to see he had dragged a pillow next to the both of you. you did as you were told, knees wobbling slightly, and jake slid the pillow under your hips. he pressed another kiss to your lower stomach.

jake held his leaking cock, looking up at you for confirmation one last time and you nodded. “this is gonna hurt for a second, okay? just take a deep breath.”

you inhaled deeply, waiting in anticipation and slight fear.

he lined the tip of his cock with your entrance, sliding it along your wet arousal and creamy white cum. slowly he began to push himself in and immediately you felt the stretch. you grimaced, resting your head back on the pillows. even with how wet you were with jake fingering you, and your previous release, jake was barely able to get his tip inside before you winced in pain.

“relax, baby, relax,” jake soothed as he kissed the inner part of your thigh. you tried to will your body to loosen up, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. jake rubbed his thumb slowly into your clit, glancing down at you with a look full of concern. you were no doubt squeezing the hell out of him, if it weren’t obvious from the small whimpers leaving his mouth as he slowly pushed in more.

after basically doing breathing exercises and jake giving you soothing kisses, he finally bottomed out, halting his movements so you can adjust to his length and thickness. you moved your arms from where they covered your tear-filled eyes and jake leaned down to kiss your cheek. “you’re doing so well for me, pretty. tell me when to move,” he said softly.

once you felt like you weren’t being split in half, you gave him the go-ahead. jake leaned back again. “do you feel it…” he started. his hand pressed down on your lower stomach and you gasped softly. “right here?” he continued.

you took your lip between your teeth and nodded, “yes… please start moving, jake.” you didn’t know how long you could stand the feel of him completely stretching you out and filling you up. it felt like you were going to burst any minute if he didn’t do something.

“you want it that bad? you’re not scared anymore?” jake grinned and you shook your head. “good, remember what i told you.” he slid his hands up your stomach to cup your breasts, thumbs rubbing over your hardened nipples before settling back down at your hips.

you struggled to remember what he was talking about, you mind going entirely blank. all you could think about was his cock inside you, his hands all over your body, and how you felt everything. was it “i’ll be gentle… i promise,” or “get use to the feeling of your body shaking”? your mind started to spin with how both sentences contradicted each other.

jake grunted as he slowly slid halfway out. “fuck…” he groaned, his grip tightening on your thighs. “you’re so fucking tight—squeezing the shit out of me, baby.” he pushed in a little too fast and you moaned out, half pleasure and half pain.

he continued his slow pace, making sure he didn’t go too fast so he wouldn’t hurt you. your body finally relaxed, eyes rolling back and sensitive walls fluttering around jake’s cock. “faster,” you breathed.

“faster?” jake repeated and you could just hear his smirk. “you want me to fuck you faster?” without a response, jake’s hips snapped to yours. he pulled his cock out until just his tip remained in you. jake hummed, waiting for your reply.

“yes!” you cried out, back arching from the way his cock rutted so deeply into you. your breathing was heavy and your tongue was heavy as you tried to form more words. “y-yes, please fuck me faster,” you whined, speech coming out slurred as your hands clawed at the messy blanket beneath you.

jake leaned down to bring his lips to yours just as he rutted into you once more. you moaned against his lips, the sound cutting off as he kissed you rougher. jake continued pounding into you, not hard enough to hurt you but enough to make sure you felt every inch of him inside you. he took your lip between his teeth as he pulled away slightly before letting go. “f-fuck you drive me crazy. do you know how long i’ve been waiting to do this to you? fuck your perfect pussy like this?”

you barely registered his words, your blown out pupils staring at him hazily as you moaned louder each time his hips connected with yours. jake continued, his words slurring, “and to think that asshole almost had you…” jake let out a wry laugh in between his heavy breaths, his hips moving faster on their own accord. “you’re mine. all mine. can that asshole fuck you senseless like this?”

you bucked your hips up, shaking your head rapidly. you really didn’t know who jake was talking about, but that didn’t matter to you. he was right, nobody can fuck you like he can.

jake kissed you sloppily through your moans, breath hot on your cheeks as he occasionally pulled back for air with the way his chest rose and fell heavily. “that’s it, baby... fucking take it,” he moaned when your back arched again and his cockhead hit deeper. “you’re taking my cock so well. do you like how i split you open like this? do you feel how deep i’m fucking into you, pretty?”

tears streamed down your faces as you moaned out incoherent words, too dumb on jake’s cock to think straight. all you could do was nod and tell him to move faster, clawing at his shoulders until your nails dragged red lines down his back. you never needed someone as much as you needed jake. it was like a fever, making you burn red-hot until every thought consisted of him

you whimpered loudly, trying to press your legs together and squirm away but jake held you in a death grip—making sure your legs stayed spread and your knees stayed pressed to your chest. your thighs shook in his grasp as you twisted from side to side, a squeal leaving your parted lips. “g-gonna cum!” you spoke shakily, whimpers falling from your mouth.

“good, baby. let go for me. cum all over my cock,” jake gritted out, accent heavy, before throwing his head back in a moan. he muttered out curses as his pace increased slightly and then kissed you roughly. he kissed along your jaw and now to your neck, right where you were the most sensitive and leaving goosebumps in his wake. jake sucked pretty markings onto your skin, claiming you further as his.

you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, on the verge of hiccuping just as you felt the cord in your stomach begin to fray. with a particularly hard thrust, wet squelching sounds filling the nighttime air, the cord snapped and you were smearing warm cum all over jake’s cock.

the pillow beneath your hips prevented the cum from dripping out of you except when jake thrusted into you, dribbles of cum leaking out from around the base of his cock. jake leaned his forehead to yours, “f-fuck, baby. you’re taking my cock so well. you feel how well you’re pretty pussy is taking me? it’s l-like your pussy was made for my cock.”

you felt jake twitch inside you before he was filling you up with even more cum, the white liquid completely coating him as he fucked his cum back into you. your nails dug into his shoulders as you cried out from the overstimulation despite bucking your hips up to feel even more, unwrapping yourself from jake’s neck to grab a fistful of the blanket as you shook underneath him. “too m-much, jake! ah—“

jake kissed you hard, moaning softly against your lips. he pulled back and leaned back onto his knees, hand holding the base of his heavy cock that was still buried deep inside you. you managed to sit up on shaky elbows. your poor pussy was glistening with your arousal and painted white you and jake’s mixed cum.

you watched as jake slowly pulled out of you, creamy white liquid covering his softening cock, eyes fixed on how your pussy fluttered around the loss of him. the corners of his mouth pulled up into a wicked smile. you didn’t even notice how he had pulled out his disposable camera, nor the flashes of how fucked out your face looked and how completely ruined by him you were beneath the full moonlight. “good job, baby! i’m proud of how well you did,” jake leaned to kiss you, his cock sliding against your sensitive clit and making you jump. jake chuckled.

you beamed shyly, eyes avoiding his stare and instead focused on how his cum was still inside you. jake reached out his hands and you took them, slowly sitting up fully. his eyes focused on the way your mixed cum spilled down your thighs and dripped onto the blanket. “fuck,” jake murmured.

his eyes trailed up your body and to your swollen lips, his smile growing. you could see it in his eyes what he was thinking: you look the prettiest like this, defiled and my cum drilling out of you. jake kissed you again, softer than all of his previous kisses tonight.

“let’s get you cleaned up, pretty.”

“why are you walking so weirdly?” you mother’s voice startled you. you fiddled with the shear scarf you’re wearing. jake left a lot of love bites on you—most that you were able to cover with makeup but some that shone straight through it no matter how many layers of concealer you put on it. you didn’t really want your mom seeing that and asking a bunch of questions. it was also the height of summer and you could practically see the heatwaves in the air, so you didn’t really want to be sporting a turtleneck right now.

your voice comes out slightly unsteady, “what do you mean?”

your mom comes to stand in front of you, eying you up and down. her gaze flicks back to yours with an analytical look. “you’re walking like a duck. what’s wrong with you?” she questions.

racking your brain for a suitable and believable lie, you rush out, “oh, i just hurt my ankle a little bit on the walk to work yesterday...” her gaze widens. “but don’t worry, mom! it’s nothing serious. i’ve just been trying to not put as much pressure on it is all!” you quickly add.

you definitely weren’t telling her that you lost your virginity last night to the renown player in this small town and you walking funny was the result. no, that would be much too embarrassing. you straightened your walk a little, trying to make it seem like you were okay. you were glad your back was turned to her so it hid your wince of pain. maybe you shouldn’t have told jake to go so fast on your first time…

“we’ll make sure you ice it or something, you don’t need it getting worse,” your mother said before leaving the kitchen, mug in hand. you sighed in relief to yourself as you finished getting ready for work.

jake met you halfway on your journey and you smacked his arm hard whenever he came up next to you. “ow!” he laughed, cradling his arm. “what was that for?”

“that was for making me walk funny and leaving all kinds of love bites all over my skin that i had to try and hide!” you exclaimed, pointing at your neck with a pout. jake laughed, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

you pouted again, “you said you’d be gentle!”

jake pulled down the scarf you were wearing with his free hand. he pressed kisses to your neck, right where the marks were, causing you to squirm away from him from the sensitivity. “i’m sorry, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “but you did tell me to go faster.”

you rolled your eyes at him and he laughed more. jake leaned down, his lips brushing up against the shell of your ear. “and i did say to get use to the feeling of your body shaking,” he added huskily, accent thick.

“besides, you should see the red lines and crescent marks you left all over my back. i’m a lifeguard, i can’t just put makeup and a scarf over it!” jake mumbled. you laughed at him.

the tank top he was wearing told you he clearly didn’t care if others saw the marks you left. it’s almost as if he wanted to show them off. the two of you continued your walk.

[ YOU HAVE TO SAY “GOODBYE” — 3RD MONTH ] ✈︎ thirty-one days until you return home.

you sighed deeply as you stretched out your tired joints after a particularly long shift. the sun was blaring on your skin all day and despite the thin clothing of your work uniform, it did nothing to save you from the heat. you desperately just wanted to meet up with jake so the two of you could go swimming before the afternoon sun went down.

in the distance down the boardwalk you caught sight of jake. a smile spread it’s way across your face as you excitedly called out to him. jake didn’t seem to hear you, instead turning the corner to where the water fountains were located. you quickened your step as you tried to catch up with him.

you were just about to call his name again as you turned the corner before you froze in your spot. the smile completely dropped from your face and you tucked yourself against the corner of the wall as your eyes widened at the scene in front of you.

jake and hana stood just a few feet from you. hana was pressed against him, arms lifting to wrap around his neck while one of his lingered around her waist, just barely hovering over the bare skin of her torso.

“oh? but you kissed me, so you obviously still have feelings for me!” you heard hana exclaim.

you moved to lean against the wall away from them, pressing your back to the cool bricks. you felt like your world was coming down around you, once again. how stupid—how foolish of you to believe jake. your chest rose heavily as you tried to catch your breath. and what did hana mean by “still”? was she one of his exes this whole time?

suddenly everything started to fall in place. hana’s constant encouragement of you ending things with jake under the guise of being a “good friend”. jake never coming to see you at work when hana was working the same shift as you. your eyes widened as you finally understood why jake was acting weirdly towards you the week leading up to the beach party.

it was hana he saved from drowning. the very same hana you told him was your good friend. you felt so stupid. you tried hard to keep the tears from brimming in your eyes.

you took a deep breath as you pushed yourself off the wall and another as you steadied yourself to go up to them. “—to mouth, …psycho!” you heard jake say distantly, but the drumming in your ears overtook his words.

you stormed up to them and as soon as jake saw you he jumped five feet away from where he and hana were pressed up against each other. a nervous smile quickly appeared on his face and his mouth opened to speak before he got a good look at the state you were in. the smile fell from his face. “y/n, listen to me… it’s not—“

“you know what, i should’ve listened when people kept telling me you were a fucking player,” you swiftly cut him off, venom dripping from your voice with so much ferocity that it shocked even you. “you never cared about me, did you?”

jake opened his mouth again, eyebrows knitting together, but you didn’t let him speak. “is our spot even our spot, or is that where you take all the girls you want to sleep with? make them feel special and like they’re the only girl in the world for a night before tossing them to the side?”

“nobody knows about that place but you. you’re the only one who knows about it, i swear, y/n. and i’m not playing you or tossing you aside. please, let me expl—“ jake started.

“some people are just made for each other and some people aren’t! and clearly… you and jake aren’t meant for each other,” hana butted in, swinging her attention towards you with a smug smirk. it was like she was a completely different person now that the mask was taken off. she put a hand on your shoulder, “i’m your friend, take it from me!”

you harshly shrugged her off, causing her to scoff loudly. you glared at her fiercely. “shut the fuck up, hana!” you and jake spit out at the same time.

you refused to let the hurt creep into your voice, refused to let the two of them win against you. “i thought you were my friend, hana? how could you? the whole time you were only in my ear to try and give yourself the advantage. you’re both pieces of shit,” you said while staring daggers at her. you attention turned to jake.

it was almost impossible to not let the hurt show through. you had really tried, but looking into jake’s eyes was the last nail in the coffin. his eyes were glossed over and he went to reach for you but you backed away. “all you wanted from me was to get your dick wet. you’re such a fucking asshole, i never should’ve let myself get close to you. never should’ve found that stupid spot and never should’ve met you. all it caused was trouble,” you finally spoke, voice quiet as the tears slipped from your eyes.

you turned to leave but jake grabbed your wrist, you refused to turn and back and look at him. if you did, you knew you wouldn’t be able to stand your ground because despite everything, you still wanted to be with him.

“y/n… please,” jake breathed, his voice breaking.

you roughly yanked your wrist from his grasp and more tears fell from your eyes. “you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way of your game anymore. i’ll be gone by the end of the month and we’ll never see each other again. we’re done, jake.”

you inhaled sharply, pushing down a sob as you quickly walked away from the two of them. behind you, jake kept calling your name, but it only pushed you to go faster until you were running. tears blocked your eyes as you let your feet guide you home.

your body collided with a hard chest and you looked up, sniffling and wiping your tears. “what happened?” jay asked as he steadied you.

all you wanted was to be in the comfort of your bed right now. you couldn’t help the broken sob that left your mouth. “you were right… there aren't any winners in the player’s game. i get that now. thanks for telling me, jay,” you pushed out quickly before hurriedly making your way home.

you pushed through the front door and immediately ran over to where your mother stood half in shock. she wrapped her arms around you, her hand rubbing comforting circles in your back. “oh honey, what is it?” she asked softly between your wracked cries.

you just wished this day never happened.

two weeks have passed since you’ve last seen jake. two weeks have passed since you last saw anybody, really. you’ve mainly stuck to the confines of your mother’s childhood bedroom crying until you no longer had any tears to cry. you laid curled up in your bed, completely numb.

your family, especially your worried mother, tried checking up on you to see what happened but you just kept saying the same thing over and over again, “i’m fine.” or at the very least, you will be once you’re back in your hometown and far away from this one. there was only a little over two more weeks left and then you’ll be rid of all this drama for good.

a little over two more weeks and you’ll never have to see or even think about jake sim ever again.

half of you is finally ready to go home. it was funny how you thought this place would give you a pseudo fresh start. the other half of you… it wants some type of closure.

for the two weeks you’ve been tied to this bed you’ve debated on if you wanted to give jake one last and final goodbye. not for him, but for you. to close this chapter of your life once and for all. you sighed as you heard your phone buzz again.

jake: i know you said you needed space, but please let me explain everything. jake: i promise you nothing happened between me and hana. jake: or any other girl besides you for that matter. jake: please talk to me, y/n.

he’s been texting and occasionally calling you since you left him and hana to their own devices two weeks ago. you haven’t answered a single call or message from him. at first, you read every message that came through and listened to every voicemail, but listening to his voice, accent filled with sadness and guilt, made you feel worse.

you ignored the buzzing as a knock sounded on your door. you didn’t have the energy to move from the blank, white wall you were staring at, nevermind talk, so the knocker entered without a word. the bed dipped beside you and a hand was placed on your shoulder.

“honey, there’s lunch downstairs if you’re hungry,” you mother spoke, softly. you said nothing. you heard her defeated sigh as she stood to her feet.

“mom?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper, as you turned to her. you caught a glimpse in the mirror of your red-rimmed puffy eyes. you looked like you went through the ringer. your mom froze briefly before turning back to you with a hopeful smile. “can we catch an early flight back home?” you continued.

your mother’s smile faltered slightly, but she nodded sadly. just then, another knock was heard. this time you recognized it as the front door. your mom gave you one last sad smile before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. you went back to staring at the same blank, white wall. a moment later your mother came back.

“it’s for you.”

you sighed softly and pulled yourself up from the bed. you felt like a zombie with your red eyes and dark circles and pajamas that hung limply off your body as you made the trek to the front door. with another sigh, you opened it, breath catching in your throat.

jake stood on the other side, blonde hair looking like he hasn’t brushed it a day in his life and the same red eyes and dark circles as you. he had dark brown roots sprouting from his scalp, despite him always making sure to keep them touched up. he looked rough, but you suppose you didn’t look any better.

“y/n…” jake breathed, like he couldn’t actually believe he’d ever see you standing in front of him again.

in the corner of your vision you saw your mom exit down the hallway to her room, giving the two of you some privacy. you didn’t hear anyone else in the house, so your aunt and cousin must’ve been out. you resisted the urge to slam the door shut in jake’s face. “i don’t want to see you,” you spoke sternly, a bite in your tone.

“i won’t be able to live with myself if you leave believing in a lie. please hear what i have to say,” jake pleaded.

you squeezed your eyes shut as you fought back tears. seeing him was too much. everything, every emotion came slamming against you like a tsunami and you wobbled on your feet. you inhaled a shaky breath and opened your eyes as tears fell from them. “i. don’t. care. i don’t care what you have to say, i don’t want to hear it!” you shuddered, voice progressively getting louder as more and more tears fell from your eyes and his.

you shut your eyes again and focused on steadying your breathing. a hand came to rest on your upper-back. “i think you should go,” you heard your mother’s voice say protectively. you didn’t open your eyes again until you heard jake’s retreating footsteps. only then did you see his defeated retreating figure.

your mom pulled you into a hug and shut the door, effectively blocking your view of jake. you buried your face in her chest as a sob overtook your whole body. your mother held you close, rubbing comforting circles in your back.

the next day you couldn’t get the vision of jake at your doorstep out of your mind. it’s all you thought about all night. the tears that fell from his eyes and his defeated stance as he ushered away. you decided on the half of you that wanted closure.

you: meet me at your spot.

despite you sending that message as you were already halfway there, jake was still there before you like he always was. he was pacing around when you entered, looking even worse than he did yesterday. when he turned and saw you, he immediately started, “y/n, i—“

you held up a hand to stop him. you didn’t come here to hear his excuses. “don’t speak,” you said, and you sounded so done with the world. like nothing even mattered anymore. “i’m not here to hear whatever excuses you’ve come up with, i’m here merely for closure.”

jake’s brows furrowed as you talked and his shoulders slumped. a look of confusion rang loudly on his face as he tried to piece together what you were saying. “i’m going back home early—a couple days from now, actually. so this is goodbye, jake.” you turned to leave but he grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“wait…” jake murmured with a pleading gaze. he pulled a folded up piece of paper from his pocket and pressed it into the hand that held your wrist until your grip tightened around it. you looked down briefly and looked back up at jake with a melancholic look.

“please,” jake begged, voice a whisper. “please don’t go.”

you shook your head at him and went to pull your wrist from his grasp but he held on tighter, refusing to let you slip through his fingers again. “what about the rest of our bucket list—summer splash? we were supposed to go together… and i was supposed to show you more of the hidden spots around town—you can’t leave yet, y/n. you can’t.”

you looked away from him and the way his voice broke as he spoke to you. you pulled your wrist again to escape the shaking from his hands. this time you were able to break free. you shook your head again, “goodbye, jake.”

you didn’t look back at him as you sped away, over the rocks and through the warm sand as tears fell once again from your eyes. you knew if you did you’d stay, and you just didn’t know how much more heartbreak your heart could take. you had to leave, there was no other option. if you looked back at him, you would’ve stayed forever.

as you and your mother packed your things for your upcoming flight, the letter jake gave you burned a hole through your brain from how much you were thinking about it. the feather-light paper weighed a ton of bricks everytime you picked it up that you stuck it in the pocket of your suitcase to hopefully forget about it. you didn’t.

it was all you could think about as you said your goodbyes to your family and as you entered the airport to wait for your flight. you didn’t want to read it, but a part of you had to know what the contents of the letter were.

you slipped the letter out of the pocket it was in as you were boarding your flight, making sure to keep a tight hold of it so you wouldn’t lose it anywhere. only when your mother had fallen asleep did you unfold it and read jake’s words, inhaling sharply as your eyes scanned the first line.

to my love, my one and only,

i’ve never really written a letter to someone before. as i told you, i’m not really the best at expressing my emotions, but i’ve run out of options to get my feelings across to you. i really do hope you read this.

where do i start? from the beginning, i guess… when i pulled you out from the water, you were the prettiest girl i had ever seen. i’ll admit that then, i only saw you at face value. i only saw what you could do for me, and not you as a person. but then i thought that it was fine because it was likely that i’d never see you again, until i saw you at our spot.

something in my brain just automatically clicked and i had to get to know you; know your name and all of your interests and hobbies and every single little mundane thing about you. i just knew i had to know you. put aside my ways and be someone worthy of even being your friend. so that’s what i did, or at least, that’s what i tried really hard to do. it turns out when you’ve screwed over as many people as i did, karma comes to bite you in the ass quick.

but even then, i couldn’t help falling in love with you. i wanted to spend every waking moment with you, just breathing the same air. unfortunately, that didn’t stop me from fucking up repeatedly. i got jealous, and albeit—even a little possessive, and got out of line. i really hurt you and words can’t describe how sorry i am.

i’ll say it once, and i’ll say it a million more times if i have to. i meant what i said when i told you that you’re the only want i wanted. not hana, not some random other girl, you. you’re the one i want, the one that i desperately need, and now you’re slipping through my fingers because of my own dumb actions.

i should’ve been honest with you and maybe things wouldn’t have ended like this. i’m sorry that hana and i’s past ruined our relationship, and i’m sorry that i let so many things come between us to ruin it as well.

about two years ago, hana and i dated. it didn’t last very long, only four months, but she’s made my life hell ever since trying to get back with me. no, i didn’t cheat on her or anything of that sort, we just didn’t click. and i don’t know if it was my reputation or what, but she’s been trying to tell me in any way she could that that was a mistake.

i don’t know how much you overheard, but none of it was true. she cornered me and wrapped herself around me, saying how i must’ve still had feelings for her since we “kissed.” the kiss in question being me giving her mouth to mouth and saving her life. i told her that she was a psycho to think that mouth to mouth—saving a person’s life—was kissing. that’s when you found us.

i would do anything to fix this, anything for another chance with you. prove to you that i’m someone you can be with and not have to worry about what my next move will be. if i’m being completely honest—and i’m not saying this to try and manipulate you or anything, so please don’t take it that way—but over the course of the summer i really have fallen for you, y/n. with these unfortunate circumstances, it made me realize that i love you, i really do. and i’ll fight for you, because our relationship can’t end on this note. i refuse.

i’m so sorry for everything i’ve done and everything that has happened because of me. and the worst part is, i’m not sure if i’ll ever even be able to tell you any of this in person. i’m not even sure if i’ll ever even see you again, but i have have hope that i will. like the poets say, or whatever, two people who are meant to be will always find a way back to each other. and we are meant to be.

no matter how long it take, i’ll wait for you.

i’m also sorry for this shitty fucking letter, i tried to be all poetic and in tune with my emotions, but i got do clue how to do any of that shit. i hope my emotions still shine through, though. i love you.

always yours, jake

you clamped a hand over your mouth as you suppressed your sobs, looking at the letter through your now blurry vision. you didn’t know how to feel, if you were being honest with yourself. it took your mind a while just to process everything he was saying. the one thing that stuck with you at the moment was the fact that he loved you. jake loved you, and you were coming to the startling realization that you loved him too.

you’ve never loved anyone romantically, but the feeling was undeniable as anything but. you loved him and he loved you.

tucking the letter neatly and safely into the pocket of your carry-on bag, you tried to focus on everything that has happened this summer. tried to name every emotion that came up and categorize every thought. you still didn’t come up with an inkling on how to feel. even if jake’s words were true, which you suspect they were, that doesn’t change all the hurt he put you through because of his selfishness.

but still, you regretted ending everything how you did. now you were millions of miles in the air far away from where jake was and the only thought in your head was how you missed him already. how you wished you kissed him one last time.

how you wished you were next to him laying under the stars where the rest of the world melted away.

but it was too late. you had already made your decision, and you had no choice but to stick with it.

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