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cherry-leclerc · 7 months ago

Text

cherry cola ☆ op81

genre: smut, humor, yearning, tiny bit of fluff, virgin!reader, innocent!reader, experienced!oscar, sub!reader (for a while!), dom!oscar (for a while!)

word count: 8.5k

After a painful break up, Oscar finds himself head-to-head with an enticing girl, filled with pure innocence. Also known as, his parents secret weapon, and his worst temptation.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...f!receiving, fingering, brief mentions of masturbation, face riding, missionary sex, doggy style

inspired by this !

cherry here!... hellooo anons, long time, no see haha sorry for the lack of posts, but hopefully this makes up for it, somehow? formal apology for my last post too while we're at it. though this fic is inspired by cola by lana del rey, it will not have a sour ending like past fics (iykyk). missed u all, so here ya go! enjoy :)

There is an apprehensive sensation that towers over him as soon as she walks in; shy mannered, tall, and firm with a hint of hesitation—it’s something he adores about her, but also something that has him feeling jittery. Oftentimes, her lips are his most prized possession, enjoying the way they move. All except at this very moment.

Everyone notices his bitter, broken, and quiet mood despite always laying low. He’s never been one to share his problems with others, and he most definitely was not going to start now. It should be the best moment of the season—his first win—but he doesn’t have the joy to celebrate it with anyone.

Oscar’s brown eyes are low and dull; empty. He’d be a damn liar if he said he didn’t see any of this coming. If he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt and misery. Should he have been more attentive, a better boyfriend, then he wouldn’t be regretting his life choices. Dramatic, but true.

“How are you spending your summer break? Are you and Lily traveling?”

The Australian tries to scoff at the innocent inquiry beaming from his teammate, but he settles with a wince, not being able to hide it. “She, um…we broke up, actually.” He’s never been a religious individual—has never even set foot inside a church—but for the first time in his life, he prayed no more questions would be asked.

Lando raises his thick brows, clearly surprised by the sudden confession. Sure, they were a private couple—likely the most in the entire paddock—but he never saw this coming from Oscar and Lily. Though he only met her a couple of times, simply exchanging a kind greeting, he would’ve bet his entire Rolex collection that the couple were smitten with one another. “Ah, I’m sorry, mate.”

The rude sound of his race suit being zipped up harshly makes the Brit flinch in the slightest. “Don’t worry about it. That’s life, no?”

Costa Rica—they were supposed to go to Costa Rica. Instead, now, he sits alone on a flight back to his home country. He’s ecstatic to be sleeping in his childhood room with outdated posters hung of all his favorite drivers, but the feeling lingers.

Sprawled like a koala, humid t-shirt pressed against his skin, he tosses and turns for an estimate of five whole minutes. He should be enjoying the beach, sipping on highly sweetened margaritas, getting the worst tan of his life, but he’s here. The hot summer air in Melbourne makes him spit out a string of dirty curses that would send his mum into a coma.

The brunette might as well be an only child since not a single one of his three sisters were here to keep him company, ditching him with his parents. He loved them, of course he did, but a full house was his ideal way to spend his break. His home gym isn’t even enough to help him forget, even for a second.

“Dinner is ready, honey,” Nicole announces, peeking carefully through the crack of the door. She grins widely. “There’s even pavlova—your favorite.”

He forces a polite nod, shaggy hair dangling just above his eyes. “Thank you. I’ll be out in a bit.” It actually takes a sum of thirty-minutes for him to jog down the stairs, a strong scent of apple expanding from his now washed hair. His dad hums as soon as he spots the McLaren driver.

“It’s rude to leave guests waiting, Oscar,” he warns with a deep voice.

The twenty-three year old assumes it’s a lame dad joke, perhaps, so runs along with it, taking a good look around the dining room. “Won’t happen again. I showered—”

“Where would you like to place the dessert, Mrs. Piastri?” a soft voice echoes down the hallway as he turns at the unfamiliar tone. You halt, caught off guard by the new presence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you would be here.”

“In my own home?” he finds himself squeaking involuntarily. The stern look that dances across his parents faces is enough for him to bite down on his tongue. He doesn’t even know why he said any of that—especially to a stranger.

They introduce you two quickly, though you’re just as fast as to say that you obviously knew about his existence. Do you follow my races? You shake your head, glossy hair shining. “I work for your parents, so…I sort of know. Plus, your sisters always talk highly about you when you’re gone.”

He blinks. “You work here?” Brown eyes flicker to his parents, confusion written all over. “What could she possibly do?”

“Oscar,” Nicole scolds. “I thought you left all the unnecessary questions back in junior high.”

Chris slides a large hand over her smaller one, calming her down just a tad bit. The older man sighs. “You know your mum, always looking for something new to do—”

“I wanted to grow a garden!” she squeals, delighted. “Like in all those magazines you get me for my birthday—oh, so lovely, honey. Only I realized, I don’t know anything about gardening.”

“And this lovely girl standing right here is a total natural. Her hands must be magic.” Oscar blushes hard at his dads choice of words. “She’s helping us out for the time being. Until we get back.”

The Australian's mouth opens, then snaps back shut, swallowing. “Get back from where?”

“Costa Rica!”

He gapes. “You’re using my tickets?”

Nicole winces. “Can’t let them go to waste, honey…”

His father butts in. “How is Lily by the way?”

The brunette groans, running his hands through his waves. “How should I know? Come on, you guys can’t be serious.” The tickets weren’t the problem; the fact that they were leaving was. He spots you awkwardly placing the pastry down onto the table. “Can you give us a minute?”

“Yes, of course,” you quip, glad to have a reason to flee far enough away from the premises. You turn to the Piastri’s who smile fondly at your understanding. “I’ll be out in the garden.”

As soon as you rush out, the twenty-three year old turns swiftly. “I guess I’m leaving too.”

“Don’t you dare, Oscar Jack Piastri—” He fumes. “Why not? You’re all going to be gone!”

“She won’t—you are keeping her company.” She’s not asking; she’s demanding. Staring back in shock, the McLaren driver avoids eye contact, fidgeting like a kid at their first day of school. His mum stands up, makes her way over, and pecks his soft cheek. “She’s a sweet girl. She won’t be a bother—she’s just down the hallway.”

That’s where Lily would always stay back when they first started their relationship; too afraid of making a bad impression on his parents. He found it adorable. He rolls his eyes and releases a heavy breath. “Fine.” He stares out the glass window, focusing on where you patiently sit on the wooden bench, delicate hands pressing your dress down against your thighs. “Fine...”

The following morning, his parents wake him up at the crack of dawn, bidding goodbye. It comes as a total surprise, thinking he had a few more days left with them, but no. He’s barely registering any of it before they whisper inaudible nonsense and scurry out of his bedroom.

After some debating, he changes and decides to go on a quick run. The sight of Ms. Alleck watering her burnt grass makes him smile as he sets off. It would have been easier to not get as tired if it were a slight bit chilly, but it’s blazing hot. He cuts it short, dashing back home and immediately serving himself a glass of cold water.

“You’re up early.”

The brown eyed boy jumps in sudden surprise. Standing in a pastel yellow sleeping gown, you grin brightly. Long lashes lay flat, nose pinching rosy pink, and breath minty. “Yeah, my folks sort of woke me up. Couldn’t fall back asleep.”

“Oh.” You pout. “They left already?”

“You knew?”

“Yup. They mentioned it last night before bed.” A beat. “I hope me staying here isn’t making you uncomfortable…it’s just that they offered, and—”

“It’s not.” Lie. “Make yourself at home.”

Not much is seen or heard from him for the majority of the day; occasional glaces coming here and there. They put you in an uncomfortable spot yesterday—you had been working on the garden for a year now, damn it—but their son's demeanor took you by surprise. The pictures and stories were something you relied on as the only source of getting to know him: polite, tall, and swanky—boyish.

That was so far from the truth. Oscar Piastri has grown into his body; almost appearing to be a handsome giant. Despite his warm face, his attitude is a bit snarky. He has no problem in saying what’s on his mind. And he is most definitely not a boy.

He’s a man.

“What do you say?”

“Sorry?”

He chuckles, Adam's Apple dancing up and down. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

It wasn't his intention to try and get close to you—not purposefully, at least—but he thought; why not? Who knows when his parents are coming back, when his sisters would, and he wanted to prove to you that he wasn’t some snotty guy. Summer is summer, after all. A friend to spend it with sounds quite nice.

Pursing your red lips, you nod, setting your book aside. The dinner table is already set up. Chicken and rice. That’s it. Given, it looks and smells amazing, but plain. You quirk a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to eat your greens? To drive quicker?” He burns up at you teasing tone.

“I didn’t want to risk burning the house down. We’re lucky I was able to get even this done.”

“Very well.” The refrigerator opens, colorful veggies staring back at him. You grin, slow and easy. “I’ll take care of it. It’s only fair, roomie.”

Oscar left home a few years ago, migrating to the United Kingdom for work, so it had been a while since he had stepped foot in his backyard. He faintly remembers his pirate treehouse, his sisters’ Barbie’s cluttered inside. It was a bone-chilling sight for baby Oscar back then, but now, the paint is chipping off, the wood looks a lot weaker. It’s a nostalgic feeling.

The new additions are stunning. A bunch of healthy flowers beam back at him and he swallows when he realizes he can’t name a single one. Waxflowers, Calamint, Dahlias, Peonies, Carnations, California Poppies. One by one, he admires with an open mouth. “They’re beautiful.” He turns to you with a proud smile. “You’ve done an excellent job.”

Pink feathers onto your already blushed cheeks, biting back a cheesy grin. You had decided to eat out on the bench, choosing to enjoy the now fresh air. Still humid, but less than before. The scent of coconut sunscreen makes his whiff constantly. “So…Costa Rica?”

He winces. It was too soon to talk about the situation, but something in your calm voice makes it easier to spit it out even though you probably already heard from his parents. All of a sudden, your savory carrots taste like complete shit. “T’was supposed to go with my girlf—my ex. My ex-girlfriend.”

You pout, sorrowfully. “Oh, I’m sorry, Oscar. I didn’t mean to…I had no clue.” And it’s genuine. Guess his parents weren’t complete traitors.

“Tell me—how long have you been working on fixing the garden?”

“Since last summer,” you hum, chewing down on a piece of grilled chicken. “This is the first time I have actually stayed here, though. Your parents are sweet. As soon as they heard that you were coming back home, they insisted I kept you company.”

Sharp jaw clenches and he scoffs. You simply blink back innocently. Then, he notices it. The way it reflects against the yellow ray of the now setting sun. He knows what it is, so he doesn’t ask. Too busy staring off into the distance, you place your plate down. “Let me show you a few other things I’ve been working on.”

There’s row and row, further into the open area; every twist and turn makes his brows raise up higher, impressed by the noticeable updates. Coming to a halt, he spins his head around, brown locks hitting his temples. “Since when do we have a cherry tree?”

You beam, orbs shining with excitement. “Since last summer!” you repeat, cheerfully. You pick one, handing it for him to try. An embarrassing moan erupts once the sweet nectar slides down his throat. “Good?”

“Bloody amazing.” Every compliment makes you squeal with delight. “My mum is actually allergic to cherries, so how…”

“She was actually the one who brought it up. Said she knew how much I loved them, and that I deserved a little something for flourishing her garden. I couldn’t deny the chance to do so.” You bite down on your lip, sheepishly. “They are my favorite.”

Reaching for one makes him look away as soon as your dress rises up, soft legs poking through. Bare feet press against the wet grass as you tippy toe. He mustered a fake cough, but as soon as you bite down onto the bloody fruit, he clicks into a trance.

Plump lips; thick and juicy. Long lashes fluttering shut against your glossy cheeks. That could have been because of the summer heat, but it affected him just the same. The familiar sensation of attraction rushes to his cock as he stands stiffly—but also loosely. He was loose. So fucking loose.

Something hits his cheekbones and it rips him away from his drooling. A singular seed now lays by his feet; indicating what you had done. A crinkled, wobbly smile shines back at him, hands nervously flattening your dress back down. The Australian jokingly lunges towards you as you squeal, backing away.

“You were disintegrating! I had to get your attention one way or another!”

Oh, you definitely got his attention. Giving you one final scowl, he stops his steps. “Everything—all of it—it’s great. Thank you.” The wind picks up and you shiver. “...for doing this for my parents.”

Neat hair flies against the breeze, covering your eyes for a minute. Pushing it aside, you scrunch your nose faintly. “Anytime.”

Technically, what you’re getting paid for was to watch over the beloved yard; that’s all. But you offer to do more. Mow the lawn? Paint the chipped wall? Wash the windows?

“God no, darling,” Oscar’s mum laughs through the end of the line. “You are doing enough already. Please. Relax.”

But you can’t. Nibbling on your thumb, you brush the counter, strolling past countless family portraits. A smile slips when you spot a toothless Oscar. “I insist.”

So, here you are; decluttering the attic. After a bit of bickering with Nicole, she eventually gives in and asks for a favor. Clean and tidy the small room. Easy peasy.

“Ouch,” you hiss when a nail digs through your skin, gore immediately pouring out of you like a waterfall; you squeak. Just then, a certain brunette peeks their head through the entrance.

“Oh good, it’s you. I thought we had an intruder.”

Raising a skeptical brow at him and the thin duvet, you quickly take it from him, pressing it down to ease the bleeding. “Holy crap, are you okay?” In one motion, he steps closer to you, analyzing the injury with worried eyes. You groan.

“It’s only a little cut. No biggie.” But the way your face is slowly losing color lets him know that your words aren't true. Brown eyes flicker, searching for a spot to sit, but everything about this is crowded. You were just about to start tidying; the mess was still there. Crouching onto a tiny stool, he takes a seat, somehow still towering over you. Or at least that's what it felt like, because suddenly, you felt suffocated.

His long legs are spread as you stand between them, hand out towards him as he winces at the brutal cut. “Ah—that’s pretty deep.” He gags when he notices the underneath flesh. You suppress a giggle. “We should go to the ER.”

You scoff, ripping away from his grip, tripping over a box. Regaining your balance, you drape the cloth over your hand once again. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be right back.”

After rinsing your hand with alcohol, covering the wound with the largest bandaid to ever exist, and balling your eyes out, you make your way back up. The Australian is drenched in sweat, huffing and puffing. “Got it,” he pants. Confused, you tilt your head to the side, but that’s when you pick out the nail in the palm of his hand. You blink, too bewildered to make sense of how he retrieved it without the help of a hammer. “I also found lots of old trophies. Extremely bittersweet.”

“Why’s that?” you hum, kneeling down next to him, reading through the labels. Each makes you more and more dazzled.

A minute passes by. “Because I grew up.”

“That’s…sad.” Shrugging, he digs for more. He laughs loudly, throwing his head back. “Dear G—I forgot this even existed!”

Oscar’s 81 Things To-Do During the Summer [List]

Learn how to bike.

Learn the Australian National Anthem (Sophie will be beautifully impressed)

Get better at being more outgoing (Mum is worried)

So on and so forth. “You were an extremely creative lad. Eighty-one things to do…eh.” A tongue click. “Possibly buy a pet dragon?”

He cringes. “Not all were realistic. I actually never really got around to it. Mainly added, if anything.”

Crimson red flashes. “I, um, I could tell.”

69. Oscar Piastri, you know what I mean.

The brunette chokes on his saliva, yanking it away as fast as he can. Standing up to his full height, he rolls up the piece of paper and points towards the exit. “I think I should, um…yeah. See ya.”

“Yeah.” He dashes off. “See you…”

Eighteen-year old Oscar was a horny bastard. But every guy that age is, so it’s not really fair to feel bad about his list. The writing is obviously his, but the things jotted down made him almost feel like it wasn’t. Blowjobs? Hand jobs? What was he thinking?

And then, there was you—a curious cat. He had to be a virgin; he just had to. Why else would he be embarrassed? You weren’t one to judge, though. You knew nothing about the sexual world, having never partaken. The thin band wrapped around your ring finger is enough proof.

And no—you weren’t married.

It would have been absolutely diabolical to mention sex in your household growing up. Being Roman Catholics is no joke, believing religiously to wait until marriage. You never had a problem with that; you would wait. Doesn’t mean you didn’t know what any of the common terms meant. Sort of.

Only now—for the first time in your life—there it was.

Temptation.

The McLaren driver was no newbie. He has had his fair share of experiences; before Lily, with Lily. He knew just about anything and everything. His good-boy act was no facade. At times he didn’t like that about himself, but it’s who he was. Obeyed the rules. Never crossed the line with anyone he wasn’t romantically linked to. And yet…

There you were.

The flowers were perfect; only needing to be watered. The cherry tree was much more…complicated. The chances of animals recklessly hunting for the sweet fruit was high, the chances of the red drupes rotting also was. Therefore, you spent most of your time there.

Maybe you were avoiding him; you told yourself you were already horrified at the dirty thoughts taking over like the plague. And perhaps he was doing the same; he had only been locked in his room for the past three hours.

Golden hour. With your hands on your hips, you squint, admire the polished drupes, tickling with water. Walking back to the bench, you lay down, picking up on your reading, occasionally taking sips from your Cherry Cola.

Pacing the small bedroom, Oscar mutters to himself. Maybe she didn’t read all of it. Maybe she doesn't know what it means. Yeah—he was exaggerating. Clicking his window open, he gasped for needed air. As soon as he spots you reading, he grunts.

White skirt brushes down your smooth legs, challenging the sun to see who shines the brightest. Lips wrap around the glass bottle, puckering in the slightest. And he wonders; would you taste as sweet as the cool beverage?

He’s a grown man; an adult. There’s no need to be uncomfortable. Sex was a part of everyone's day to day life. He was the one making it a bigger deal than it actually was. Still, he slips on a pair of sunglasses, perched perfectly onto the bridge of his nose.

“Is it any good?”

His voice makes you flinch, dropping the book flat on your face. A tiny groan rings through the air. Flashing him a weak smile, you sit up straight, fixing your clothes. “Want one? There’s plenty in the fridge.”

He had noticed, of course he had. Never in a million years did he think he'd see his refrigerator stocked up with the sweet drink. He never cared enough to ask who they belonged to; figured they would just expire.

Wavy hair swings back and forth when he shakes his head. “Gotta keep in shape.” I see, you murmur, loopy eyes peeking over at him, taking another gulp. The sizzling feeling is utterly childish compared to what he’s making you feel. The burning sensation between your legs is annoying and painful, you almost want to plead for help. “I meant the book, by the way.”

“No!” You laugh, nervously. “I mean…it’s alright?”

After he stormed off and left you a breathless puddle, you biked and biked—until you hit the local bookstore. You weren’t looking for anything in particular, simply browsing, but as soon as you reached the section of Erotic Literature, you stopped.

So many—many—wrong choices. Still, humiliated, you paid and fiercely ran out. Maybe this was some sort of punishment for reading what you’re reading; had to be. And Oscar asking questions wasn’t helping. Licking your berry lips, you swallow a thick layer. “What have you been up to?”

Fuck, he moans, large hand sliding up and down his cock; more and more pleasure intensifying. Your tiny dresses. Your short skirts. Your angelic face. The way your lips would separate before every sentence. Your sweet scent that would have normally given him a headache, but instead made him chase after you like a dog.

Finishing all over his thighs, he shudders. White liquid never looked more sinister than at this very moment. After changing, he paces the room with regret.

Pushing the frames further into his face, he hums. “Oh, you know. Just… cleaning up my room.”

It’s been a week in a half now and you’re happy to announce that you have fallen into a routine. While Oscar did his daily workout, you would make breakfast. While you worked on the garden, he cooked dinner. Though, he was unbeknownst over the way you would drool over him when he would walk out the door; a compressed shirt hugging his built body tightly, arms begging to be kissed. You were unaware of the way he would rub his face in desperation when you walked out, banging his head purposefully against the cabinet; the way you would skip out with your book and infamous drink, or how you would prettily tie up your hair before you even got started.

It was a mess.

A mocking mess.

This afternoon though, you aren’t flying out the door to the yard, but rather frolicking over to Ms. Alleck, ready to assist. I try my best, but they always wilt! Could it be the humidity? Laughing, you toss your hair up into a bun, messy strands poking out as you cock your head to the side. “Could be, but don’t you worry. We’ll find a way to make it work. Promise.”

He had always known you were kind, gentle, soft spoken…pure. And you doing this only added to his attraction. It’s salad, spaghetti, and salmon that afternoon. Sweaty, you pant. I’m going to squeeze in a shower real quick. But you weren’t sweaty, like you believe; you were glistening.

“This is so cute,” you chirp, sitting cross cross in the old treehouse. A few spider webs make your blood run cold, but he quickly took care of it, apologizing. The brunette blushes.

“I wanted to use it one last time. Before we get rid of it.” Neat brows furrow. “It’s just that it’s old—only a matter of time before it plunges down.” “What?”

“O-obviously not now!”

After a bit more convincing, you finally relax and enjoy the way the crickets sing against the night. Small feet press against the wall, white tube socks turning slightly brown from the lack of sweeping. For a moment, he shuts his lids, breaths shallow, body loose. The high temperature almost made him feel as if he was cuddling into the warmest blanket; it felt nice.

Whoops, you mumble when hollow glass pounds against the wooden floor. He perks up at the sound, brown eyes burning with high alert. “You do shit on purpose?” he screeches when he detects scarlet blood. Wincing in pain, you curl your hand towards the hem of your dress.

“Help me,” you plead, slight annoyance written all over your face. He must’ve broken the world record of running into the house to retreat the first aid kit, and running right back to you. The way he sanitizes the skin, to the way he wraps your hand with a gauze pad, is honestly hilarious.

“What so funny?” he murmurs, attention never leaving the wound.

“Mmm. Nothing.” He snickers and you giggle harder. “It just seems as if I’m making you a professional. You ought to be ready if anyone else needs your help to treat injuries.”

“Oh, of course. I’ll tell them a certain klutz made me learn from day to night with all her clumsiness.” His voice drops, laced with concern. “Seriously though—you were just healing. You have to be careful.”

Plump lips part with the sound of his delicate voice, accent almost disappearing. Wandering eyes admire the way his brows are knitted together and orbs soften. Swallowing, you nod. “I will.”

“Good.”

The once vibrant room is now hazy and suffocating. Does he not know what kind of effect he has on you? The type of power he holds? Oscar doesn’t seem to, though, with the way he chugs down his entire glass of water. Stuck in a trance, your hand briskly reaches out for your own drink. He roars with laughter, clutching his stomach. “You just broke your bottle, you don’t have a drink anymore.” He picked up the Cherry Cola you had offered, but he had declined. “Take mine.”

You don’t put up a fight, simply allow him to open and give it to you. The sweet drink doesn’t do a great job at hydrating your foaming mouth, but it helps as a distraction. On the other hand, the brunette can’t seem to not watch the ways your lips suck in and out, eagerly. As if this were the only source of air. He shudders.

“We should probably head down…”

Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you comply, already standing up. From the floor, he has a good view of your legs; long, soft, sweetly scented. He wonders if you use honey as lotion because that would explain his urge to nuzzle his face against them. Picking up the broken glass and plates, you turn back. “Coming?”

A sigh rings through the air once, and suddenly—he’s cradling your face with high intensity and lust, molding his lips against yours. Tomato sauce stains his shirt and your dress from the plates that still remain between you two. One second, you're wide eyed, and then the next, you're allowing yourself to kiss him back.

You want to cry with how pleasant the feeling feels and he wants to scream with how much he wants to fuck you. But alas, one of you pulls away first—you can’t really tell who— and you’re both left gasping for air. Completely winded and fucked.

You both are fucked.

The treehouse comes crashing down the day after your first kiss. Yes, first kiss. You would like to blame him and say that he stole it from you, but the arousal that was dripping between your thighs last night was a clear indication that you could never actually say so because you liked it so much.

The wooden house tearing down is something you take as a sign; you’ve sinned. Okay, maybe that was a bit too dramatic, but you were honestly thinking about it. That night you dreamt of the wildest things imaginable; his pretty face in between your legs, large hands squeezing your perky breasts, fingers swirling inside your velvety walls, cock tearing you in half.

It was unacceptable.

So, while Oscar worked on picking up the tiles with a hometown buddy, you marched right over to beg for forgiveness. Kneeling down against the cushion, you say a silent prayer.

I don’t want to think like this—not when I know I can help it, but God this is getting way too out of hand. And you know I’m not like this, you know that! But he just—AGH. Maybe it’s his personality that makes him so attractive, or maybe it’s his sudden growth spurt, but please let me get a hold of myself. He’s just a friend, he’s just a friend—HE’S JUST A FRIEND.

“Would you mind keeping your words to yourself, sweetheart?” an older lady whispers, two rows ahead of you.

Pink feathers onto your cheeks. “Oh, yes, of course! I’m so sorry…”

I don’t ever ask for much, no, that’s never been necessary, but I am now. So please. Hear me when I say: Push this desire I have, far, far, far away.

If you were to say, there was a ninety percent chance that you would walk away. Not even spare him a passing glance. He would call you out on it later, but whatever—too late. Ignored you, you say? No, really I did? I had no idea, I’ll make sure to not let it happen again!

If Oscar were to say, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that he would let you walk away. He didn’t need your company; he was doing just fine. But then again, that one percent tugs at him like the devil on his shoulder.

“Hey. You’re back.” Cool. Calm. Collected.

“Oh! I suppose I am.” Cool. Utter. Mess.

He grins, eyes crinkling like the leaves that hang upon the crimson tree. Signaling up, he cocks his head in deep thought. “Just finished. Cole said his uncle could shred…” A pause. “He owns a massive wood chipper.”

Blinking like a deer in headlights, you chew on your bottom lip, simply nodding along. “Sounds good? I think. No. Yes. Very good.” You wince at all the uncontrolled mumbo-jumbo. “I’m sorry I was no help, too. I had to…talk to the man up above.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. That must be why your pretty little knees are bruised.”

Your breath comes to a harsh halt, ears burning like a wildfire. The Australian just keeps his brown eyes set on the tree for a second longer before turning to face you. Quickly, you relax your muscles. “You could make up for it by helping me with something else.”

You gulp. Suddenly, your mouth is overflowing with hot saliva. “With what?”

Dark orbs glue onto your delicate figure, a slight smirk playing out. And it looks so unfamiliar, not his own, that you create a distance. And just like that, it’s gone. Vanished just as fast as it slipped onto his pink lips. “Get on.” He crouches down and your jaw drops.

“Wha—like onto your shoulders?” Rolling his eyes in a goofy manner, he nods, picks you up safely, and places you on top. You screech, dizzy by the sudden altitude. “Put me down!”

“You’re fine. Just help me reach those. Been craving them all day,” he murmurs, voice raspy. The twenty-three year old is still slightly sweaty from his hard labor, and that’s clear when you cling onto his brown locks. Other than that, you’re as high as a kite; both figuratively and literally.

You’ve known—seen—how tall and broad the Australian was, but being perched onto his wide shoulders was a sweet confirmation you couldn’t help but enjoy. “Move a bit forward.” He follows instructions, wide hands gripping onto your thighs to keep you steady. You giggle when a few fruits hit your face. “Watch it—and don’t you dare drop me.”

“Get,” he commands.

About three minutes pass by. You rip the cherries carefully, candy aroma filling the air, and plop them onto the basket. By all accounts, you’re well aware of your actions. The basket was full, now overflowing, really, and you could plant your ballet flats back onto the tall grass—but you don’t.

There’s something about feeling his touch; high electricity, shock waves nipping at your skin, soft pants. It’s pathetic how much you crave any ounce of physical touch he’s willing to give you, unknowingly.

“That should be good,” you whisper, meekly. He doesn’t respond, just swings you down as you let out a yelp. All of a sudden, you’re magically magnetic. And he wonders; if only. You hand the basket over, waiting nervously for him to thank you, at least.

“Thank you,” he feels himself saying. “What do you say we play a little game? No prize. Only bragging rights.”

“O-okay.”

A singular cherry is handed over. He grins. Can you tie a knot using your tongue? “Wait—are you being serious?”

The red fruit dissolves inside his mouth, spitting the seed somewhere far enough away. Then, the stem flips into his mouth. “Come on. I’ll give you a head start.”

With wary hands, you rip the stem away from your own drupe, fitting the thin stick into your suddenly dry mouth. He stares intently, clenching his jaw, “Go on. Ten seconds.” Quickly, your lips start to move, twisting and turning. Pouting, then sucking back in. Your low breaths become heavy after a few tries. You think you’re getting it done right, the sudden ball forming is enough for you to guess that you must be doing something correct.

The sound of his low mewls is what ends you. Doe eyes flicker up to face him, paying close attention to how his brown eyes wander up at the sky in concentration, occasionally squinting due to the bright sun. You can feel a thin layer of sweat hug you like a blanket as your movements slow down; a snail's pace compared to before.

For good measure, you fake your twists as you continue to simply admire. Too far gone, you blink hastily when he sticks his pink tongue out towards you, a stinking knot sitting nicely atop.

“I won.”

Gulp. “You sure did. Good job, Oscar.”

Long lashes flutter shut momentarily, head tossed back, sighing. “It wasn’t a fair fight. You weren’t doing anything. Other than staring at my lips.”

Flustered, you dig your hand into the bucket. “That’s not true! At all. At all, at all.” You munch harder, splitting a seed in half. You spit it out sourly. “You're just better at using your mouth than I am.”

It goes straight to his cock, your words. Opening his eyes, the brunette scrunches his nose. You’re avoiding his gaze. You’re good at doing that. A pro. But it leaves him to wonder some more. And that itself was dangerous when it dawned on him.

He doesn’t like daydreaming anymore.

“Fuck it,” he grunts, kissing you harshly, like the night before. And you thought that blew your mind, but this? This left you gasping and reaching out for him even though he was pressed right against you. You could feel him buzzing, pinching your hips against his large hands. It’s perfect.

You don’t really understand how you end up straddling him on the grass, green straining your knees as you grind harder onto him, forcing your skin to burn with each stroke. This—this—must be as good as it gets. There can’t be more, but you weren’t complaining. It was enough.

When his fingers dance underneath your dress, you halt, and everything comes crashing down. “No,” you pant. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Why is that, baby?” he mumbles, lost on sucking the side of your neck. Looking up, his straight brows drew in together with concern. “What is it?”

“It’s just that…I’m—” Why is it so hard to admit? Brushing a strand of hair away, you purse your lips. “I’m a virgin, Oscar. It’s odd, I know, but I can’t sleep with you.”

“You think I didn’t know that?’

You freeze. “What?”

His thumbs circle your thighs, gently, swooning with how soft you feel. “I figured you were. Your purity ring sort of gave it away.” You blush hard, rolling off of him, playing with the thin band.

“I wish I could do this—God, I really want to—but I can’t.”

Respecting your decision, he pats your hand with reassurance. The hot feeling remained between your legs and the pain between his. This was torture, you both know that, but what was there to do? It’s awkward for a while, that is, until he starts asking you about things that shouldn’t make you glow with happiness.

How was your day? I want to hear all about it. Do you think it’s bad to eat an entire bucket of drupes? Must be, right? In the long run? Hey, would you mind teaching me how to garden? You make it look intriguing.

That seems to do it for you. Everything you ever promised flies out the window as you climb back onto his thick lap, and this time, he’s surprised by your actions. Clumsy fingers try their best to unzip his pants, but he only stutters against your kisses. N-no, we don’t have to rush anything. I, you, we—

“Shit, o-okay,” he sighs when you finally touch him, even in the slightest. He may be touch deprived, but so were you, so how far would any of this go? Flipping you over to lay against the tall grass, he winks teasingly and that effectively makes your heartbeat quicken. “Relax, sweetheart. Do that for me, yeah? Can you?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.”

The McLaren drivers press a kiss on the inside of your thighs before licking them. You shiver, though try your best to even your breaths. You shut your eyes, maybe if you act hard enough, you could somehow convince yourself that this wasn’t a war itself. To see how long you’d last. No—you would last. You had to.

“I’ve thought about it.” He slips your panties down, inch by inch. “A lot, as of lately. If you would taste just as sweet as I imagined. As sweet as those Cherry Cola’s you're overly obsessed with.” And he dives in, licking your arousal clean as you pant, chest heaving up and down like an erupting volcano.

What were you supposed to feel—relaxed? In a frenzy? Most likely the latter because considering the way he was making your head spin said it all. The sounds he’s making forces you to involuntarily shut your legs around his face and his hand that now lies between you two. The stretch is a burning sensation that leaves you both gasping and moaning; it’s too much, but not enough.

More. Grinning up from in between your legs, he shakes his head full of curls, all thanks to the Aussie weather, and your dirty foreplay. “Does it feel good?” You whimper. “Good—good, baby. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Velvet walls clench around his long digits. “Hey, hey, look at me.”

Once your soft orbs connect to his intoxicating ones, his cock grows harder. “Okay, listen, it’s going to hurt a little bit, okay? But that’s completely normal; it’s like a…a stingy feeling. Do you understand?” I do, you pant. He grits his teeth when his calloused fingers brush against your g-spot and your head lolls back, exposing your sharp clavicle. He itches to mark you all over. “Do you want it, then?”

A zing. “Fuck, Oscar. I fucking want you.”

The brown eyed boy is all over you, kissing you up and down, gripping you tighter. It was an addiction in its truest form. For a split second, you frown when he slips out of you, but as soon as he starts unzipping his pants, you feverishly lick your lips.

It dawns on you that you aren’t scared, nervous, or anything; you’re bubbling with excitement. You watch carefully as he jerks himself off a bit, his already large girth growing bigger. How is that possible? “I’ll start with the tip.” Leaning down, he pecks your pouty lips and you smile. “Let me know if it’s too much, we’ll stop and take a break. Or do anything, really,” he adds, cheekbones flushing red.

“I’ll be okay,” you whisper. “I swear.”

You were being skinned alive, it was excruciating pain. You know he notices it when he starts brushing your hips, hoping to comfort you in some sort of way. Heavy breaths, numb lips from biting too hard, exposed breasts arching straight for him. He didn’t know whether to enjoy this or worry.

“Breathe, darling, breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. There you go,” he congratulates, admiring your shaky breath. “You’re doing so good.”

“Osc, move…please.”

There was no more confirmation necessary that you were ready to go. His hips find motion, thrusting into you slowly. Nails scratch down his back as you moan loudly, almost yelping. “Y-you’re so big.” So, so, so, so big. “So good.”

Nearly animalistic, he releases a grunt, pounding deeper into you, getting lost with the way you hug him tightly. You mewl, pressing your naked chest against his, and he nearly slips from his hands being set on top of the cold grass, but it was beautiful torture, all at once.

From the way you tremble, to the way you look up at him, he loves it all. He realized it been too long, he’s missed this, he’s missed having a body undeaneath his, as fucked up as that sounds.

And he—he must be a saint, himself. There’s a sort of invisible halo that lightens up around him, nearly blinding you. There’s a gut-wrenching stare he’s gifting you, making your stomach churn with pleasure.

Wrapping his mouth around your sore buds, you let out a shaky sigh. Skillful tongue swirls the way one would suck on a lollipop; the heat intensifies. “Close?” But you’re not sure, you just know it feels good—ridiculously good. He must have known so, and must want to make your first experience the best you’ll ever have, because suddenly, you’re on all fours.

As he slips in and out with such ease, you grip harshly at the tall grass. You can hear the sad rips with every thrust and every tug, but how can you feel bad when he feels so good? His cock rapidly brushes the magic spot, and you’re left seeing stars. “Oh God. I feel it, Oscar, fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Tell me. Describe it.”

Your jaw locks, and your arms give up, flying down towards the grass, round ass high up in the air as he continues his movements. He groans at the sight, slapping your sweaty skin. Whining, you look back at him, grinning from ear to ear. The Australian looks up at the open sky, trying his best to push back the feeling of his upcoming orgasm, but it's hard to ignore the fact that an absolute angel takes him like no other.

And an Angel you were.

“Can feel your cock, Oscar. The way it pulses—so thick, so veiny, so sweet.”

An Angel with a vocabulary of Heathen.

“God, fuck me harder, please, Oscar, please.” He’s pretty sure you’re half-gone, half-present, but it only adds to the lust he carries for you. Just then, you feel the fresh cherry pressed up against your lips. Open, he demands and you follow straight away, ripping it from its stem. You nearly choke on the seed when he suddenly speeds up, limbs and arms burning from holding upright. For a moment, you stare back with an open mouth, admiring over the way his abs contract with every brutal push.

“Now spit.” Two seeds fly out towards the grass, laying there to taunt you as you pick up on your moans, ringing through the air. If you squint hard enough, you can spot the stars that mock the daylight sky. It doesn’t make sense, but then again, none of this does. “So pretty, sweetheart.” You swoon, feeling his arms hold you down. “Again—open.”

You’re expecting another set of cherries, thinking this might be some sort of prize, but as soon as you feel the familiar stick, you pout. No, you cry out. He chuckles. “Yes.” A pause. “You only get to come until you tie a knot.”

“You’re not being f-fair, holy shit.” Long fingers rub slowly against your puffy clit, throbbing with pain, begging to come all of his numbing girth. You clench your jaw, eyes screwed shut.

“We don’t have all night, go on. Move that pretty little mouth of yours.”

It’s a mission, it’s a task, it’s a fucking wreck. It’s impossible. You’re not that surprised, though, not when he thrusts into with twice as much force, triple speed; what a man. Loose tongue swirls at a weak attempt, but then he pinches your swollen bud, and you’re back to square one. You’re nearly there, excited to prove to him how much you wanted this and how you were able to multitask, but then he’s pulling all the way back, only his rosy tip awaiting by your entrance, and he’s coming back down, full-throttle.

It was cruel.

But two can play that game, you suppose.

You pull away quickly, he blinks, and then you’re pushing him back, sprawled on the grass. He nearly whines from missing your warm cunt, but as soon as you climb to sit on his face, he grows more and more turned on. “Go on,” you push. “Use that pretty little tongue of yours.”

Dark eyes stare up at you, enjoying the way your body moves, hips rolling, riding his face at an impressive rate. The white nectar you're willing to spill out makes him lap at an embarrassing speed, desperate to taste the sweetness.

Meanwhile, you’re gripping his hair, trying to feign indifference with the way his nose rubs against your lips, the way he keeps you in place with his watch covered hand, the other playing with your clit. It’s even, this is fair, but you still needed to reach your end.

“I’m close,” you moan, head rolling back, but jaw continuing to tick. He hums and the vibrations cause you to squeeze your legs around his face. That seems to make him enjoy this far more. Unless you show me you’ve done it, then no, you’re not coming anytime soon. Your molars grind harder, white spots forming throughout your vision. “Shut up, just—fucking stop talking.”

“What do y’know? Miss Perfection has a potty mouth.” He pokes his tongue against your hole. “Dirty girl, eh?”

With one final suck, and one soft moan, you cum all over him. The Australian is quick to lick you clean, groaning pathetically deep. Gasping, you fall from your climax, slightly twitching with sensibility as he hauls you onto his lap. You giggle when he raises a teasing brow.

“You got away with it—this time.”

“There’s going to be a second time?”

He stiffens, trying to play it cool. “Well, not anymore, you didn’t do what I asked for you to do—”

Opening your mouth, you stick your red tongue out, displaying the most perfect knot. He gapes, sticking his fingers in to retrieve it. “H-how?” A beat, sharp and accusing eyes. “Seriously, how?”

“Does it matter?” you ask, wide eyes back on for show. “I did it.”

“I…yeah, yeah you did,” he repeats in disbelief. He laughs. “You’re wickedly talented. That's an art.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, slowly, mixed with a giggle. “I tried my best for you.”

“I see that.” The brown eyed boy pinches your hip. “How was it?”

Sighing dreamily, as if napping on a cloud, your eyes twinkle. “I get it now. Why people have casual sex, I mean. It was amazing. Thank you.”

Casual, casual, casual, yes. Of course this was casual, why wouldn’t it be casual? He’s not looking to have anyone new in his life, and you’re barely understanding what any of this is, so yeah. Casual.

“Was I bad?” you ponder, chewing on your bottom lip. “I know I’m no professional, but I—”

“You were perfect,” he reassures with a soft smile. “Best thing to come around, solemnly swear.” Swatting his arm, he snickers, catching your hand. You purse your lips. “I was right,” he murmurs when his lips graze over your own. You open your mouth, waiting for more.

“About?”

“You tasting as sweet as a Cherry Cola.” Then he connects your lips, and you’re left utterly smitten. You can hardly feel him slip your ring off, but you know so when your finger feels empty since the moment you first put it on. “Guess you won’t be needing this anymore?”

“Guess not, no. Keep it.”

“Could take it to a Pawn Shop, sell it for a couple dollars…”

“Hey! Be nice, you dimwit,” you warn. “You should feel special. Stupidly special.”

“I’m kidding. I’ll cherish it.”

“Creep.”

He groans, slapping your ass as you squeal. “There’s no right or wrong answer, it seems like. Very well, let's just leave it at thanks. So…thank you for trusting me.” You blush, looking away. Awkwardly, you reach for your dress, slipping it over your head. He coughs, dressing himself before choking back a much needed chuckle. “Looks like we got dragged through the mud.”

“Ah, ew, I can’t. I need to shower.”

Reaching your end of the hallway, you press your back up against the wooden door as you sheepishly giggle when Oscar does the same. “Okay then…see you around?”

“Around town?”

“Around the house.”

“In the garden?”

“In the attic, too, maybe. It still needs a good sweep.”

He rolls his eyes. “Do we still have time?”

“Before your parents get back from Costa Rica?”

“Yes.”

“Which is in—”

“A week.”

“Which is—”

“Seven days.”

“And roughly…”

“Enough time.”

“Enough time to do what?”

He laughs, eyes crinkling suggestively, and your heart pounds hard against your ribcage. “Come here and I’ll show you.”

“Yeah,” you ponder in deep thought before your lips stretch out into a bright smile of your own. He raises dark brows as you scurry over with bruised knees, a muddy dress, and an exploding heart. “Yeah, okay. Just until they get back.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

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zenless-zideblog-zero · 2 months ago

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Girls night VS. Boys Night

Zhu-Yuan: *In a High speed chase with a vehicle*THIS IS PUBSEC! PULL YOUR VEHICLE OVER NOW!

Nicole: *in passenger seat Old Smokey, the car Zhu-yuan's chasing* Be careful! This thing hasn't been serviced in a good while!

Piper: *Driving* I can tell. These tires haven't been rotated in at least six years, and I can't begin to imagine how old the oil is. You should take better care of this old girl~

Belle: Less talk, More Speed!

Corin: Master Proxy, are we in trouble! If I get caught Victoria Housekeeping's reputation will be Ruined! WAH!

Belle: Corin, Sweetheart, please listen to me when I say Ellen and Lucy should have a distraction coming!

~~~~~

Wise: That's ... Twelve Ice Damage, and Nineteen Slashing damage.

Anton: Brometheus Fought the good fight! He believes his friends will save the world, even in his Death!

Wise: Stellar, Arctunoct the Frost-Bringer has just knocked your dear friend unconscious, and the Rituals Almost Complete! He give you the most vile, toxic smirk as he pulls his spear from Brometheus! What do you do?

Billy: Uh, how bad does he look?

Wise: He's decently hurt, but so is the rest of your team. You're the last in the initiative order, and if he's still up when your turn ends, the world may just end.

Billy: Okay then ... Stellar draws his hand-crossbows, looks Arctunoct in his dumb face, and proclaims "You are nothing but a selfish fool! And the Void of your heart will be pierced with STARLIGHT!" and will fire his crossbows.

Billy: And that's- NAT 20!

The Table erupts in cheers

Wise: Okay, how much damage?

Billy: Uuhhm, first I'm throwing Smite on that with my last level two slot and Lightbringer's final Divine Charge, so that's ...

Billy: Twelve piercing, and ... FOURTY THREE RADIANT!

The Table erupts into louder cheers

Wise: okay! WOW! That's a LOT of damage! uh- You Lightbringer's bolt CRACKLE with the fissile power of the stars, bleaching the shadows from view, stirking him square in the heart!

Wise: He clutches the metal piercing his chest, falls to one knee ... *grinning* and Laughs ...

Billy: WHAT!

Anton: NONONO!

Seth: HOW TOUGH IS THIS GUY!

Wise: Spitting up blood Arctunoct wheezes out "And so the light is swallowed by shadow ... a brave show young Paladin, but this ... THIS IS WHERE YOUR SUN BURNS OUT!"

Billy: Hold on! I have one more attack!

Wise: Yes, yes you do.

Billy: okay so that's ... Thirteen.

Seth: Bless!

Billy: Uh, Fifteen?

Anton: Brometheus's Inspiration!

Wise: And inspiration. You just need to roll a three.

Billy: ... I GOT THREE!

The Table erupts in even LOUDER cheers

Wise: Okay, Billy?

Billy: Yeah?!?

Wise: *Writing something down* I'm writing down Exactly how much health he has left, And then I want you to roll your damage.

Billy: Okay ... it's just the one roll ...

Billy: *Rolls Damage*

Billy: Okay,so that's Four damage, plus Five for my dexterity, and one for the Enchantment.

Wise: ... the first shot brought this beast of a man to his knees, but he still breathed.

Wise: Billy ... he had only nine Health after it, How do you Wipe him out?

*Seth, Anton, and Billy Freak the fuck out*

Billy: okAy! Okay! Okay! As he's laughing from the first blow, Stellar whispers under his breathe "It's always Darkest before the Dawn." And send this last bolt right into his neck, causing him to fall into the ritual, and is eviscerated as the spell goes haywire, unfinished!

Wise: Perfect. As his body is wrenched apart by the arcane Energies misfiring, you feel in your heart as you've accomplished what you were meant to do. The World is saved, the Sun just peeks over the horizon, as if to say thank you, to the knight that has let it blaze one more day.

#zenless zone zero #zzz #zzz shitpost #text post #zenless zone zero incorrect quotes #zzz incorrect quotes #wise zzz #zzz wise #belle zzz #zzz belle #seth lowell #anton ivanov #billy kid #piper wheel #corin wickes #nicole demara

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itsrainingonher · 2 months ago

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one last thing:

i think car crash ending was just a fuck you to the type of audience co09 had garnered

like I'm not saying the fandom can't be annoying, but flipside and the car crash ending in particular just seem like their whole existence was to piss off ppl that the creator just didn't like in his fandom

i was talking to a friend abt it and 100% this game was made for like gooner men and I have a feeling that was the intended audience for the first 2 as well, but instead most of us are gay teenagers

basically what I'm saying is that every character who had died before in the games, it was kinda their own fault

Kylar let his obsession with Nicole blind him, Emily wanted the s pact, Nicole's mom just kinda ignored Nicole and didn't do anything to rlly stop her from breaking into her med cabinet

but like ari was just there?? like she just existed and she was killed in the ending for like idk shock value ig

but it wasn't particularly funny shock value cause she was barely in the game??? like even though i love her character i can admit if done correctly i could've found it mildly funny

instead i just see that as a fuck you to the side of the fandom that isn't just Jeffrey from class of 09

like I'm not asking for ships to be made canon, if anything that wouldn't be within the spirit of co09

but honestly the whole game just feels like a spit in the face to the much more dedicated audience that happens to disproportionately like viewing the characters from co09 in a gay way

i don't expect this part of the fandom to be necessarily respected, but i think its a p bad idea to go at ur own fans with this much vitrol

anyways i look forward to seeing anything come out of the fandom for co09 cause clearly the creator don't give two fucks, he just wants to jork it

jeffrey 100% was a sbn3 insert lol

#class of 09 #class of 09 flipside

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honorhearted · 2 months ago

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“I have a hard time believing you’d be this cross if it were one of your own men who’d done it.”

"You're right," Benjamin agreed, bobbing his head almost sarcastically. "My men are trained for this, Anna, while you are not. I also don't believe any of my soldiers would be so bloody irresponsible and go against my wishes -- nay, my commands!"

Anna bristled. “And do you think me so incapable that I would have allowed myself to be caught with intelligence on my person? I might not be a soldier, Ben, but I’m not stupid.”

Benjamin scoffed, tossing up his hands in frustration. "But you were caught!" he reminded her. "Not with any intelligence, thank the Lord, but you were spotted! A mile away, in fact! Anna, this is not your area of expertise, so I would ask that you leave all the intelligence-gathering to those with experience!"

What happened next was but a blur. Anna gave a feline-like growl, and then she struck him hard across the face. Benjamin's vision momentarily exploded with stars, twinkling and skating across his vision as he lifted a hand to his stinging cheek.

“How dare you!” Anna seethed. “I’ve been in this from the beginning, you know that! It’s all been to see that my Selah’s death is justified!”

Gritting his teeth, Benjamin lowered his hand and scoffed, a new fury igniting across the kindling in his heart. "You are not the only one to have lost someone in this fight," he hissed. "Abe lost Thomas; Brewster lost Lucas; I lost Samuel and Nathan. And yet you don't see the three of us prancing about behind enemy lines without a semblance of a goddamn plan!"

Starting to tremble, he backed away from her and drew a hand to his mouth, overwhelmed by how furious he'd just become.

It wasn't her fault, he earnestly reminded himself. None of what you've lost was her fault.

Anna, unfortunately, wasn't through with her needling. “Now will you speak to me with the respect I’m due, or must I strike you again, like a petulant child?”

Benjamin stiffened. "You have quite a bit of gall, marching into my tent where I am your superior, and commanding respect when you have given me none since the moment you set foot in my quarters!" Tapping a hand over his chest, his expression grew plaintive as he said, "Anna, you know I love you and Selah, but we can't afford to be reckless. I cannot -- I will not -- lose anymore people due to misplaced pride."

@honorhearted {x}

For heaven’s sake. Anna could swear up and down to God Himself that Benjamin loved to hear himself yell and reprimand, as if he were any less guilty of taking risks when the situation demanded it.

“I have a hard time believing you’d be this cross if it were one of your own men who’d done it.” she countered, her fists balled at her side as she defiantly stared up at him with her jaw stiffened in opposition.

“And do you think me so incapable that I would have allowed myself to be caught with intelligence on my person? I might not be a soldier, Ben, but I’m not stupid.”

“Have you learned nothing these past several months?" he accused, his expression still red hot with anger.

“How dare you!” she seethed in response, reaching up and smacking him across the face, not caring if his subordinate officers witnessed the scene, “I’ve been in this from the beginning, you know that! It’s all been to see that my Selah’s death is justified!”

It’s revenge I’m after. Her own words echoed in her head. And I’ll see it done.

“Now will you speak to me with the respect I’m due, or must I strike you again, like a petulant child?”

She wasn’t being entirely fair. She knew that, and yet she was so livid, so relentlessly riled, that she was becoming more and more irrational by the minute. Anna was tired – tired of being talked down to, and tired of this bloody war.

#faithhearted #a plan gone awry #//i love how only you and nicole are brave enough to have your muses slap and spit on ben xD

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z0mibite · 8 months ago

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Little TCM(TB) WIP I wanted to run by yall. If I made this a mini series, would you guys be interested?

You sat silently as your friends cried beside you at the dinner table. Your eyes were wide and unblinking, your open mouthed breathing was shaky and uneven, your entire body shook as you stared at the stew in front of you. It looked like any other stew, smelled like it as well, it would have made your stomach growl and mouth salivate if you weren't dreadfully aware that there was human flesh in it. You hadn't known Karina well, she was a friend of a friend, in fact, you'd only met her a few days ago when your mutual friend, Tasha, had invited you both on a road trip before you went your separate ways for college.

You and Tasha had been close since before elementary school, your father's being close being a natural branch for you two to become each other's ‘sister from another mister’. You were both violently different, but it seemed opposites attract was more true than you originally thought. Tasha was always a social butterfly, honor roll, swim champion, volunteer work, the perfect student. You, on the other hand, always found it difficult to fit in. You were terribly anxious when it came to social interaction, and only ever truly exceeded in topics you found intriguing, which wasn't often as public school didn't often let you have a creative outlet.

You weren't failing by any means, but in comparison you Tasha? Her 4.0+ GPA showed her natural prowess, while you got mainly C's and B's in anything other than Animal and Environmental Science. You hadn't gone to a single school dance until she forced you to at least attend your senior prom with her, which, not to your surprise, led to her being dragged off by various friend groups, from the stereotypical geeks to the stereotypical jocks. She got along with everyone, whereas you felt too weird for the popular kids and too normal for the weird kids.

But none of that mattered, not now. Not when Tasha was sobbing violently, her normally conventionally attractive face dampened by a waterfall of snot, tears and blood. Her dark brown skin hid the majority of the purple discoloration around her eye, but the swelling made her injury obvious. Her boyfriend, Randy, didn't look much better. His face was bright red, his nose and eyes especially. His teeth were clenched so hard you were sure they'd break as he spit insults at the Sheriff.

Sabrina and Nicole, both friends of Tasha and Karina, were equally distraught. Nicole was a bit worse for wear than Sabrina though, the Sheriff had taken a particular liking to her, which wasn't a good thing. And you only could only guess where Jackson, Randy's brother, was. You had heard him screaming not long ago, too soon for him to join Karina in the pot on the stove, but you hadn't seen him since you saw him run straight into a bear trap, taking his ankle clean off.

#tcm 2006 #tcm the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw massacre the beginning #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt tcm

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therealcocoshady · 9 months ago

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Recovery - Chapter 25

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Em has trouble handling the breakup when Jamal shows up with bad news.

Tags : ANGST, Comfort

MARSHALL’S POV

The hardest part about grieving his relationship with Y/N was that he didn’t really have anyone to talk to about it, since they hardly told anyone. The only people who knew about the breakup were Talia, Jamal and Hailie. For obvious reasons, he didn’t feel like telling his daughter how sad he was over a relationship she didn’t approve of. Jamal had actually reached out a couple of times, saying that he was sorry it was over with Y/N and that he was here if he needed to talk, but seeing as he was his ex’s roommate, Marshall didn’t feel too comfortable with the idea.

Ever since the breakup, a couple weeks ago, he was in a state of constant mood swings : he would find himself in his bedroom, staring at the ceiling for hours, before being overcome by anger, followed by deep sadness. He was fifty-one, feeling like a heart-broken teenager, lonely and sad in a huge house whose every corner reminded him of Y/N. It was the most depressing place in the world and yet, there was nowhere else he’d rather be. This led him to do something extremely out of character : canceling studio sessions for two weeks and staying in bed most of the time. He also dodged most calls and failed to answer texts - not that he was too good at keeping up with it anyway. Most of the time, he wondered where Y/N was at, what she was doing, how she was feeling. The sadness he had seen in her eyes as they parted ways haunted him.

It was sunday and, as usual, he was having his kids and their significant others over for family brunch. He tried his best to put on a happy face but to no avail.

Dad ? Are you even listening to me ? Stevie asked, interrupting his train of thoughts.

Sorry, I wasn’t, he admitted. Mind repeating ?

I was thinking of getting a pet snake. I just don’t know which one yet.

That made him chuckle for the first time in a week. Stevie and pets - a greater love story than most.

Don’t you have enough of a zoo ? He asked. It’s a lot of work. And don’t forget school.

I know, Dad. “School is important, blah, blah, blah”, she gestured imitating him.

Well it’s my job to remind you, he shrugged. Anyway, don’t count on me for pet-sitting.

Me neither, Hailie said with a hint of disgust.

Neither, Alaina chimed in.

Fine, Stevie said as she rolled her eyes.

Marshall went back to his thoughts, letting his kids argue about what kind of unusual pet was the worst : spiders or snakes. He thought about Y/N and how she would feel about the debate, knowing full-well that she had a phobia of both.

It’s probably not too wise to have a pet snake with a baby on the way, though, Stevie said.

This caused Marshall to spit his orange juice.

You’re pregnant ?! He blurted out.

Now we’ve got your attention, she said with a grin as everyone laughed. I’m kidding.

Very funny, he said sarcastically. Thanks for the heart attack by the way. I’m not ready to be a grandpa just yet.

You do know that Hailie and I are older than you when you became a Dad, right ? Alaina asked.

True, he hummed. Stevie is not, though. You can’t have a baby, you’re still one.

I’m 21, she said as she rolled her eyes. But relax, I don’t want kids anyway.

That’s my girl, he said with a smile.

All I’m saying is that you could be a grandpa someday soon, Alaina continued. Now that we’re married, Matt and I might decide to start trying.

You’d be good parents, he said with a smile. I mean, I’ll never be ready for that day, but I guess a new addition to the family would be welcome. Not a snake, though.

How about you ? Stevie asked.

What about me ? He hummed.

Well you broke up with Nicole months ago, but maybe you’ll be the one bringing someone new to the family, she said. We’re out of the house and we don’t want you to be lonely, right ? I swear, it feels like you’re not even trying…

He stared at Hailie who tried to hide a scoff by faking a cough. Obviously, she had been true to her words and hadn’t told her sisters anything - not that there was anything to say anymore…

Let’s put it this way, he sighed. There’s more chances of me getting a pet snake than bringing a lady into this family.

His tone was dry and sarcastic. Now that Y/N was gone, he felt like he might actually end up alone. But in the end, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be with anyone if he wasn’t with her. The perspective of even holding the hand of someone else was rebutting to him. Hailie looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

We’re short on pancakes, she said. I’ll make some. Help me in the kitchen, Dad ?

That was a lame excuse, but he followed her anyway.

What’s wrong with you ? She asked with a worried face once they were alone.

Nothing, he said.

Dad… You haven’t paid attention all day, you look like you haven’t slept in ages and you implied that there’s nothing going on in your love life when we both know it’s not true, she stated.

There’s nothing going on anymore, Hay, he said dryly. Now, I don’t mean to be rude, but I would appreciate it if you waited for me to leave the kitchen before you do some happy dance of celebration.

Don’t snap at me, she said as her eyebrows furrowed.

Sorry, he said as he pinched the area between his eyes. You’re right. I am tired and I shouldn’t be taking it out on anyone.

So… It’s over ? She asked calmly.

Yeah.

He didn’t bother commenting on the circumstances of the breakup.

Want to talk about it ? She offered.

I’m good, he said as he took her in his arms. I just need some rest. I’m taking a small break from recording, that’ll do me some good.

I thought you were close to being done with the new album ?

It can wait, he said. I need to chill for a bit.

I’m worried for you, Dad…

Don’t. I’ll get over it, he said.

“Chickens they come they go”, she playfully sung his lyrics.

Thanks for quoting the clean version, he chuckled.

They shared a laugh. In this moment, he was grateful for his family and especially his daughters.

6 WEEKS LATER

The two week break ended up turning into a month and a half long one. He came up with various excuses but in the end, it didn’t really matter. He didn’t feel like seeing anyone besides his family and he was in no mood to work anyway. Everytime he tried to write something, it felt like a disaster. His inspiration seemed to have run dry.

However, his friends were persistent and, once they understood that he was definitely screening the calls, they took turns showing up at his place to make sure he was alright. The official version was that he was a bit burnt-out. He was not sure if he should come clean about his breakup. He was starting to feel the need to talk about it, to talk about Y/N. She had tried to call him a couple of times but he did not pick up. Not that he didn’t want to, though. He just knew it would hurt too much.

Jamal had also reached out a couple more times but Marshall did not answer. He thought his friend got the hint, but he ended up showing up unannounced, late one night.

Anyone dies ? Marshall asked after greeting him.

Might as well be you, Jamal answered. We haven’t heard from you in ages, man. And no offense, but you look deceased, too.

Well… You know.

They stared at each other in agreement.

Can I come in ? His friend finally asked. I brought you some stuff.

You didn’t have to, man.

It’s just a pack of red bull, food Talia made for you, some beats for you to listen to and a care package.

A care package ? Marshall asked amused. What are you ? My great-aunt ?

Actually, it’s from Y/N.

Oh, he simply said.

He gestured for Jamal to come in and they went to the living room.

Thank Talia for me, he said as he rummaged through the bags his friends had brought.

Will do.

Should I wait for you to leave to open the mystery package ? He asked.

Up to you, man, Jamal said. I mostly came to check up on you. We’re all worried about you.

I appreciate it, man. Thanks. I’m good. I just need some time to adjust, you know ? He said.

I bet, Jamal replied. It’s going to be weird, not having her hanging out at the studio anymore. We all got used to her being there.

Well, we decided to remain friends, Marshall explained. So, she’s welcome anytime. I know everyone loves her and I don’t want it to be weird.

Jamal looked at him with a confused expression.

You really have unplugged, haven’t you ?

Sort of, yeah. Why ?

His friend kept on staring at him for a few seconds. It was uncomfortable and it felt as if he was about to tell him that a zombie apocalypse had erupted.

Man, I don’t know how to tell you this but…. She’s gone, Jamal said.

What do you mean ? Marshall asked.

Shit. I thought you knew, or at least that you had a vague idea… I know you didn’t pick up her calls, but she tried to text you. Several times, his friend explained.

What does it fucking mean ? He asked as he was starting to lose his patience. What do you mean she’s gone ?!

We drove her to the airport this afternoon, man. She’s moving back to France. She just handed her doctoral dissertation and she pulled something to convince them to let her do the defense thing remotely.

Why would she do that ? Marshall scoffed.

Dude, she’s a mess, Jamal said. She wouldn’t get out of her room for days. She barely ate, didn’t sleep. Talia had to help her showering and shit. We almost sent her to a psych ward. She stopped talking for weeks.

Why didn’t you call me ?! He asked angrily. Why am I just finding out now ?

She made me swear not to, man. She couldn’t face you. When she took the decision to move back, we convinced her to let you know, but I guess you didn’t see the texts…

She’s… gone ? Marshall asked again, in disbelief.

Yeah. You should check the package, Jamal said. When she didn’t get any response from you, she prepared it and told me to give it to you once she was gone. I have no idea what’s in there, though.

Marshall wasted no time and tore up the carefully wrapped bow to unveil what was inside. There were a bunch of envelopes and two presents.

I can leave you to it, if you want, Jamal offered.

I don’t mind, Marshall shrugged as he kept on staring at the content of the box. Fuck. I had no idea she would fucking leave…

He went back to his unboxing. He opened a first envelope, that contained a few pictures of them, that she had printed : a selfie of the whole crew, taken on the first day they met - she was shyly posing next to him as he flipped the camera -, two picture from their time in the hospital - a selfie of her as she pointed to him asleep in a chair next to her bed and a selfie of the two of them laying in bed next to each other - as well as the selfies they had taken as a couple. He looked at the pictures for a long time, failing to believe he wouldn’t see that face again and that she was in a whole different time zone.

In the second envelope was a printing of the “acknowledgement” section of her dissertation. Everyone she knew from the studio was listed by name, including him, who had a whole paragraph that read “To MBMIII, thank you for welcoming me with open arms and believing in me. This work would not have been possible without your help and encouragement. Thank you for inspiring me to believe in my dreams and to lose myself in the moment and own it. In doing so, I found inspiration but also who I am. I am forever grateful for you, more than words will ever convey”. He read the paragraph at least ten times. He couldn’t believe she had actually quoted his lyrics to thank him. This made him smile and almost tear up. His heart was swelling with pride for her finally being done with her work, as well as sadness.

The third envelope contained a handwritten letter :

“Dear Marshall,

By the time you read this, I will most likely be back in France. I wish I had the chance to say goodbye in person, but you wouldn’t pick up the phone. I am not sure why, but I guess I can’t blame you. Leaving Detroit, a place I have called home for the past few years has been a tough decision - probably the hardest one after leaving you. I knew I would have to go back home eventually, but I decided to leave early because I cannot see straight anymore. Every street, every corner, every stone reminds me of you. I cannot sleep in this bed knowing I won’t wake up next to you. I cannot keep breathing and existing in all the places you made me feel seen, loved and appreciated, knowing I can’t feel you near. Every little thing is a reminder of what once was and will not be again. And being reminded that I once had everything and lost it is too much pain. But in truth, I am not writing this letter to complain, but to say thank you. You walked into my life when I needed support, and you gave me exactly what I needed : love, encouragement and inspiration. Meeting you is one of the best things that has ever happened to me and I will forever be grateful. Your generosity and everything that you are takes my breath away. But as I am writing this letter, I am reminded that I am only human, in desperate need of oxygen. I need to leave because I have to save myself from drowning. I cannot allow myself to hope that you will reach for me, as I foreswore that right - if I ever had it. I broke both of our hearts but I am hopeful that they can be mended. You deserve nothing but love, joy and happiness and I pray that you find it wherever you go, whatever you do, whoever you meet.

I love you and I always will.

Yours forever,

Y/N

PS : I hope you don’t mind the cheesy quotation of your lyrics. I have been catching up on your music because I needed to hear your voice. Also, it is hard to exist without your talent and your way with words.

PPS : I have finally listened to your whole catalog. Every single, every album, every feature. I did not think it was possible, but it makes me love you even more.”

Marshall could feel his heart sink as he read her letter. He could feel her sadness and her pain, her bleeding love in each word. He wished that he could reach her and pull her close to him. At that moment, he knew that letting her go was his biggest mistake. Tears welled up in his eyes.

Fuck, he said.

You good ? Jamal asked after a few seconds, reminding him of his presence.

I… I guess.

He finally opened the two presents. These were fancy packages from Montblanc. He scoffed, as he definitely didn’t deserve such a big gesture. If anything, he should be the one to treat her to the finer things in life, not the other way around. In the first package was a beautiful leather embossed notebook with a note written in pencil on the first page : “May you be inspired to fill these pages with good rhymes and good bars. I cannot wait to listen to the whole album. You got this and I believe in you.”.

The second package contained a fancy, beautiful pen. From the looks of it, it was a collectible. The first thing he did with it was to write her name underneath her note, in ink. He needed her name to be there, permanently.

By the time he was done opening the presents, he was openly sobbing and it didn’t matter that Jamal or anyone else was here. For the first time in ages, the pain in his chest was so real that he thought he would have a heart attack. He found himself bent in two, crouching on the couch, sobbing and feeling every bit of the pain he had tried to suppress. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply. He tried to focus on happy thoughts, but he couldn’t think of anything. The only image in his brain was her face.

FUCK, he screamed into the nothingness.

Every emotion he had ever felt, every moment of pain and grief seemed to hit him all at once. His mom, his bullies, Ronnie, Kim, Proof, his overdose, Y/N.

Fuck, he whispered under his breath. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It was all he would say.

Marshall, he heard Jamal say in an echo. Do you need anything ? Anyone ?

Y/N, he said as he kept sobbing. I need Y/N. I need her. I need to talk to her. My phone. Now.

He heard Jamal hurry and rummage through the mess in his living room, trying to find his phone before handing it to him. He turned it on for the first time in days and he was immediately flooded by the incoming notifications that caused the phone to lag for a bit. He had about a hundred phone calls, a thousand unread emails and about fifty unread texts. Most of them were from his manager, his friends and his kids, but a few of them were from Y/N. She had really tried to reach out to him.

From Y/N : I hope you’re doing well. I need to talk to you. Can you please call me back ?

From Y/N : Please call back ? It’s important.

From Y/N : I can’t reach you and I wish I didn’t have to tell you over a lousy text, but I’m leaving Detroit. I’m going back to France. My plane leaves on Tuesday night.

From Y/N : I don’t know if you got my texts ? Or if you’re ignoring them ? I’d like to say goodbye. Can I come by ?

From Y/N : You probably don’t want to see me. I’m sorry for disturbing you. In case you change your mind, my plane leaves at 6:35 PM.

From Y/N : Boarding now. It’s my last text, I swear. Goodbye Marshall. I love you.

There it was. Her last text. She had actually given him the opportunity to see her one last time. He could have held her. Maybe he could have convinced her to stay. But he blew it. He needed to call her and apologize. All he wanted was to crawl back to her. He needed her. To hear her voice. Anything. He tried calling but it went straight to voicemail. By looking at the time, he guessed she was on the plane and that her phone was on airplane mode. It was too late.

He stared at the screen, feeling angry at himself. In a fit of rage, he threw the phone across the room and heard the screen break. Once he realized it meant he might not have her texts, he went to get it back. The screen was broken but still working. Once again, he felt mad. He punched the nearest wall. Then a painting. Then a mirror. In a matter of minutes, he found himself in a state, nearly trashing his living room. Jamal stopped him and held him for a long time before he stopped debating himself. Luckily, his friend was far taller and stronger than him, so he had no trouble containing him.

Man, you need to calm down. Breathe.

I can’t, Marshall replied panting. What the fuck’s happening to me ?!

The tears started to flow again, as he realized he might be losing his mind. Jamal engulfed him in a hug - something different than their usual bro-hugs. This time, he felt like a small child crying in the arms of their parents. On any other day, he’d cringe, but he was deperate.

I got you, bro, Jamal said.

She’s gone.

I know.

It took a couple of minutes for him to be able to breathe normally and think straight again.

Man, I know you’re my boss, but I’m talking as your friend here. Because I care. You need help. You’re not staying in this house by yourself, Jamal said.

As much as he wanted to protest, Marshall found himself nodding. In the studio, Jamal acted as a soldier and did as he was told, but in real life, he had a presence to him and an authority that made people think twice before discussing his orders.

It’s no Mathers Mansion, but you’re welcome to stay at my place, Jamal said.

You don’t mind ?

I don’t. You can take the couch or the guest bedroom.

Ok.

He went upstairs and started packing his stuff for a few days. As they stepped outside, he felt a sudden wave of relief. He had to get out of there. He needed to get away and recover, otherwise he would go crazy.

#eminem fluff #eminem x reader #eminem imagine #eminem fanfiction #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers #eminem #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers headcanons #slim shady

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amour-anguis · 2 years ago

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screaming crying sobbing i love my wife so much plz

🍓 seductively feeding you this strawberry rn

NIKKI nicoleeeee!!!!! Hello thankyou for sneaking in here 😌 okay here we go, when i first joined the big scary discord server with a LOT of people in it (sweet adorable and kind ones) but a lot of them nonetheless you made me feel so welcome and made it easier to adjust. You are so so sweet and funny and i love hearing about all your ideas and rambles about your day! You are an absolute treasure and i’m so thankful for you <333

#nicole’s indi tag #WE ARE MARRIED YOUR HONOR #i’m so glad i met you #fr #i’m gonna get emotional rn #bark bark bark #spit in my mouth

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infinitywrites · 1 year ago

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I Didn't Expect You Part 4 ~ Conrad Fisher

(Part 3) (Masterlist) (Part 5)

gif credit @laurens-german

synopsis: Y/N never expected it to be the summer that everything changed. Conrad, Belly and Steven were all dealing with the consequences of recent break ups while Jeremiah's wasn't acting like himself. Susannah was undergoing treatment that provided unpredictable health results and kept her loved ones on the edge of tragedy. Had they drained the well of the magic of Cousin's beach? Or could something new fulfil it again?

warnings: multichapter slow burn, warnings will update with every chapter, timeline is both POST S2 and a retelling of S2 with changes, everyone swears A LOT, 4th of July party, ANGST between Jeremiah/Conrad, ANGST between Conrad/Y/N, Nicole (sorry to this Queen), Conrad's friend Danny (made him into my own thing), hints of Belly/Jeremiah, I don't know shit about sports

word count: 4,141

___________________________________________

I feel like no one wants me

And I hate the way I'm perceived

I only have two real friends

'Cause I love people I don't like

All I did was try my best

Ego crush is so severe

God, it's brutal out here

Got a broken ego, broken heart

I decided I needed sustenance before heading into the lion's den and popped a bacon wrapped scallop in my mouth. Nicole sidled up next to me in no time, refilling her plate.

"Someone's got game." Her voice was low, unassuming and her eyes were focused on the desserts when I looked at her.

I almost spit out my margarita, "You're kidding, right?"

She giggled, "Nuh uh. I got to watch you in action twice now. Danny was eating out of the palm of your hand and even Cam looked weak."

"OhmiGod, Cam is Belly's ex!"

Nicole shrugged, "Okay, fair but I don't blame you for Danny cause he's definitely been working out." Our eyeline shifted to where he was laughing with Jeremiah and Steven.

"He's at school for a baseball scholarship, of course he works out." Her look of unabashed thirst would never not amuse me.

"Fuck, that's so hot." She looked like she was about to swallow her tongue.

Without another word Nicole walked off in his direction and I smiled as I watched her get her flirt game on and trail her fingers up his bicep. My mind drifted back to the house as I downed the last of my margarita before I headed inside to poke the bear.

He was in the kitchen, drinking from a dark liquor bottle when I walked in. His sullen eyes met mine for a long moment, "Where's your boyfriend?"

"Would you shut the fuck up for like a second?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them as I leaned against the island on my palms. Conrad rolled his eyes and turned his body away from me. That set me off again, "Since when the fuck do you talk so much anyway? My god the stupid fucking shit that flies–"

He put his bottle down, "Since when the fuck so you swear so much?" It was disconcerting how much calmer he was than me. It spurred me on.

"Since you, asshole!" I didn't even realize how angry I was until the words came flying out and the adrenaline spiked higher. "Since you make me so fucking mad I wanna tear my own hair out! And I thought we made progress the other night. How fucking stupid am I?" I took a long breath and felt the heat prickle my cheeks. I should have brought in another frozen margarita.

The look on Conrad's face changed and his voice went soft, "You've never been stupid a day in your life."

"Fuck you, I'm not done!" I wasn't done being pissed at him for trying to ruin a perfectly good day. "Do you even know who asked me to come in after you? Your friend, Danny. Sweet Danny who was genuinely worried that he hurt your feelings, you fucking–"

His eyes narrowed cruelly, "Oh, poor sweet Danny who wrangled an invitation to 4th party just to drool all over you apparently."

"Are you seriously fucking jealous right now?"

Conrad's mouth snapped shut as his eyes widened in panic for a second and I couldn't have cared less, "I didn't want to steal his attention away from you, Conrad. I was just saying hi…you know, like a nice person."

"Mhm. I'm sure he's got lots of ideas of how you can be nice to him." He took another swig from his bottle.

I couldn't even look at him anymore so I squeezed my eyes shut until I could. "Jesus, I'm not gonna date your friend, okay?!? Not if really you don't want me to."

When I opened my eyes Conrad looked shocked, "What? Seriously?"

It was the last thing I was expecting and I could feel myself start to calm down finally, "I mean, yeah. If it bugs you that much."

I could tell he was thinking about it. "Y/N…"

"Unless it really was the stupid fucking baseball shit." It was the shift in his tone of voice. I couldn't handle it.

Conrad paused, "I mean, he is a fucking liar. It's…" I spluttered a laugh and couldn't even hear his very important correction. "What? It's true." Conrad shrugged miserably and placed his bottle back on the counter.

I thought about Danny's request when I said, "I'm sure it is. I just have no idea what you're talking about."

Conrad rolled his eyes and I sighed.

"How is it I've known you my whole life and I never knew the absolute stats nerd hidden under that 90s heartthrob hair?" The second I walked into that kitchen I could barely believe the words coming out of my mouth. I was cutting myself off from another margarita even though I wanted it.

"You think I'm a 90s heartthrob?" He was leaning on the other side of the island and peering at me quizzically. I thought I could even see the hint of smirk under his misery.

"Ohmigod, that's what you got from that?" My face was screwed up in disbelief. His ego had no bounds.

"Uh, that was definitely the most important part."

"Oh so you're a delusional nerd too?" This was better than sulking Conrad or angry Conrad but only by an inch.

He paused and shrugged like he was shaking off the rest of his sour mood. And then I felt him focus his stare directly at me in a way I'd never experienced. I didn't have to look up at him to know what I'd find. Was this the shameless confidence that Belly always talked about? The silence was bad enough. He always did that; said the thing I least expected or never said anything at all after I did. He'd just wait and look at me, expectantly until I felt like I couldn't breathe.

The silence was never comfortable so I mustered the last bits of my courage and looked him square in the face, "Not everyone is flirting with you, Conrad."

His smile grew for the first time since he thought he was on a winning streak in the pool. The unsettling thing about it was it seemed like he knew something I didn't. Conrad was nodding and considering the statement as he stepped around the island to stand in front of me on the other side.

I gasped softly when his eyes flashed back to mine and muttered, "You sure?" He lingered in the moment and I felt a calloused fingertip graze the back on my hand gripping the island countertop. Just when the static in my brain started the clear and I could breathe again, Conrad leaned into my ear to whisper,

"Or do you save that for Danny now?"

He stayed close but he had to be drunker than I thought and fucking with me again so I took a breath and tried not to take the bait. Maybe it was my turn to say the thing he least expected for once. I didn't want to have to look him in the eye again after that, "I…you know, sometimes I can't tell and it's unintentional. Danny probably did the same thing. He's just a nice guy."

He scoffed and took a step back. "Sure. Not like you'd notice either way."

I looked at him then and shook my head in confusion, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Conrad opened his mouth as he stepped closer again but was shocked into place when he heard his brother calling for him from the other room. "Connie!"

He had the decency to look at me apologetically before directing him to the kitchen. When I saw Jeremiah's expression was serious and fixed on Conrad, I used that opportunity to make my exit. I took a few minutes in the bathroom to splash some water on my face and assess the pink hue in my skin as flush or sunburn. It didn't take long before I started to hear raised voices. I debated whether to investigate or leave them to it, if it was even the Fisher brothers at all, but when I thought about how Susannah wouldn't be able to deal with it like she always did, I knew I had to make sure it wouldn't get out of hand.

I caught pieces of the story as I walked back towards the kitchen. Susannah and Adam had been separated for a year now but he'd helped throughout as he should. He helped more than he did when they were together if Conrad was telling the truth. I heard Jeremiah accuse Conrad of scaring Adam away from the party altogether. It was true, Adam Fisher was nowhere to be found for the first time since I could remember. It was strange to think about now when he'd showed up for a few short hours the year before.

Jeremiah's tone was firm. "What gave you the right?"

"Get over it, Jere. They're not even together anymore." In contrast, Conrad sounded like this was the last conversation he wanted to have.

"You think I don't know that?"

"This is Mom's house and her party. You really think she wants him here?"

"I think she wanted him at Thanksgiving and Christmas and when the treatment got really bad in the Spring too. Oh, but that's right you had finals and weren't around much then, moping around after you screwed things up with Belly." My eyes squeezed shut at the dig. This could escalate badly.

"Fuck you, you know I came home every second I could!"

"I was there every day!"

"Okay?! Okay! What do you want, a medal?" I hoped the breath I huffed wasn't audible enough for them to hear.

Jeremiah shook his head out of the corner of my eye, "Did you even ask her? Cause you're right, this is her party and she should have decided. Not you." The footsteps were heavy across the tile as he left and I heard the door slam behind him.

Conrad sighed. "You heard every word of that, didn't you?"

I winced and came out of hiding around the corner to see him leaning heavy on the island like it was the only thing holding him up at this point. His liquor bottle of choice was abandoned by the sink. "I'm sorry...but not every word and I didn't mean to, I swear. I was just in the bathroom."

"It's okay. It's not your fault. Actually it's my fault. As per usual." He didn't move from his spot as his eyes carved holes into the countertop.

"Don't say that." My heart ached for him without my permission. Maybe Conrad fucked up by not inviting Adam or telling him not to show up at all but some of what Jeremiah said was unfair. And it wasn't hard to see that his brother was taking every word to heart no matter what.

"Why not? It's true. It's the only fucking thing I'm good at anymore." He looked up finally, lost.

"Connie, come on."

The words seemed to shock him out of his emotional spiral. His brows raised and while the smile on his face was immediate, it fell just as quick, "I can't remember the last time you called me Connie."

"I think I do, actually." Apparently it was infectious because now I was smiling at a memory I thought I'd lost.

When I looked his way again, he was watching me expectantly with the hint of that same sweet smile on his face. It was the least I could do since he seemed interested in the distraction from his own thoughts.

"There was this girl in my freshman year named Connie and I remember thinking it was hilarious that it was a girl's name. Kinda gross of me, honestly."

"I would say," he interrupted but was still listening.

"Do you wanna hear the story or not?" His hands raised in defeat as he chuckled. "I told Belly I was gonna torture you with it that summer; calling you every famous Connie I could come up with. TV characters and political figures but she got really upset and said you'd be mad so 'please don't'. So I tried to forget about it entirely so I wasn't tempted."

When I looked up again, Conrad was looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite figure out so I kept on. "And it must have worked too because I forgot about it until this second."

He nodded slowly, "Does that mean I get to call you Y/N/N again?"

I rolled my eyes at the old nickname and conceded, "I guess it's only fair."

We ended up heading back towards the party and paused to look outside sliding door windows at the view of the patio. He nudged me, "So you've grown to like my name."

I didn't need to look at him to know he was trying to shift his mood before we went back to everyone who was oblivious about what had gone down inside. "Damn, the confidence with which you said that completely inaccurate statement."

"Mm, say it again." He muttered and I shot him a glare so fast I couldn't believe he kept talking. "But softer."

My patience was battling against the need for physical violence but I let it out verbally. "Maybe try therapy if that gives you a nerdgasm." I was gonna get a lot of traction out of this nerd thing.

"Exposure therapy maybe." The mood shift was successful if I could base it on his teasing tone and goofy smile.

"I said I wasn't flirting with you, dummy." I didn't mean to bring it up again since it wasn't that serious but it wasn't the only thing I'd said that I was gonna regret after the fact.

Conrad scrunched his face in disbelief, "That's definitely not what you said. Actually, we decided you wouldn't know if someone was flirting with you. Case in point."

I could barely listen to him anymore and I gestured for him to quit it. "Fine, whatever, I'm saying it now. Not flirting. Can we move on?" I knew he was looking at me then but I refused to do the same.

"No." His response was immediate and I saw him register the shock, like it even surprised him a little that he'd said it.

I didn't have a choice then and could only gape in his direction, eyes struck wide by his stubborn streak.

Conrad turned to me and stepped closer like he'd made a decision. "Even if you weren't, I was. And I want you to know so I'm telling you now, straight up, to your face, so later you can't explain it away or pretend I didn't…flirt with you."

And that's when I realized he did know something I didn't. I was such an idiot. He broke his steady gaze for a second and chuckled, "I didn't mean to at first and then…I don't think I can stop now."

If all that wasn't enough, he wasn't done. "I don't want to." Conrad leant close then and his voice dropped an octave, "I mean, why does he get to when I can't?"

I heard the sliding door shift open and closed but didn't see it from my frozen state, staring at a corner piece of the door frame. I sucked in an unsteady breath and looked up just in time to see him look back at me from the edge of the pool, quickly before he jumped in.

My nerves were shot and despite the cool air inside the house compared to the heavy July sun, my hairline was damp. My mind was blank and racing at the same time; no thought coherent in the slightest so I shut it down completely. No more thinking, not that I could think myself out of this one anyway. I waited until I could breathe normally and wasn't overheating from the inside before I stepped back out to the patio and steered directly to the drinks table for my third frozen margarita.

The rest of the party was fairly uneventful in comparison but still great. No more drunken drama or broken family heirlooms to Belly's great relief. In fact, I found a lot of peace watching her for the rest of the night; giggling with her friends, swimming until her limbs cramped up and flirting with Jeremiah if I could read the signals right. He seemed elated by the development and I let myself be happy for them instead of diving into the complications of that potential. No more thinking.

At one point, I watched Conrad grab Danny's shoulder, both of them nursing their last beers of the night, and mutter something to him that looked serious enough to be an apology. Danny shook his head with a smile and gripped him in a fierce hug. I didn't even realize I was smiling at the sight until Danny's eyes caught mine and he mouthed a grateful 'thank you'. It was so sweet I had to put down my margarita and rethink my life choices. I caught Aunt Laur and Susannah sitting together and seeing it too: Laurel pouted her bottom lip at her friend and Susannah's eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

When the party got to the point of only relying on the patio and pool lights, I distracted myself with the first steps of organized clean up. Steven joined me not long after, saying that he needed an excuse for a quiet task to keep his hands busy. Usually I would have pressed for more information but I was surviving off fumes by that point. Maybe everyone was. Nicole and Danny stopped by to say goodbye and thanked us for a great party. I hugged them both and looked around to realize that it was only the family left after that. Jeremiah and Belly said something about how they'd make up for their clean up crew shift in the morning and were nowhere to be found after that.

Eventually, when Susannah's porcelain serving platter almost slipped from my hands and into pieces on the kitchen floor, Laurel told me I'd done enough and shooed me upstairs. I debated washing the day off before I crashed into bed but worried I'd actually fall asleep under the warm spray. I'd just managed to get into a baggy Cousin's Rowing t-shirt and sleep shorts before I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

It was the creak of the old wooden drawers of Belly's dresser that pulled me out of deep slumber. The room was bright with sunlight shining through the curtains and I had slept right on anyway. I yawned as Belly made a face in my direction and grabbed her crop top.

"I'm sorry! I was just gonna change before I got to the beach. I don't wanna miss the chance on our last day."

"What time is it?" I looked around the room when my phone wasn't on my nightstand like usual. It landed on the end of my bed with a thump.

"After 10. Here. I found it on the kitchen table when I came in last night. Figured I should plug it in for you."

I smiled and saw that it was, indeed, fully charged. "You're sweet."

"The least I could do. You barely left anything for me and Jere to finish up this morning."

"Yeah, I was on a mission." I looked at her smiley face as she pulled her top over her bikini. "So. About you and Jere…"

Belly was never good at hiding things from me and her face screamed guilt even as she tried to shrug it off. "What do you mean?"

"Belly. Come on." She looked at me then, waiting. "You guys hung out all day yesterday and then you left together last night. What's going on there?"

The poor thing looked scared, "You're not mad?"

I rolled my eyes, "Is there something to be mad about? I mean, if you guys like each other…it's not gonna be easy but there are worse things."

"Wow, you should sleep in more often. Oh, don't forget to check the kitchen when you get up. Conrad went out early and got the good muffins."

"Oh, nice. But you're not off the hook about this Jere thing."

She pulled her lip balm out of her pocket and smeared it across her bottom lip. "It's not anything yet. When there's something to tell, I'll let you know."

"You better."

I took a moment to check my phone and saw an unread message from an unknown number. Hey, it's Danny. Jeremiah swore it was cool if he gave me your number so I hope that's okay. It was nice seeing you yesterday. The look on my face must have given me away because Belly was laughing at my expense in almost no time.

"Let me guess. Danny decided to text you after all." She wiggled her brows and giggled.

"Did you know about this?"

"I was there when Jere was trying to convince him. Poor guy actually thought you rejected him because of Conrad." Belly didn't seem to notice if my face reacted to that tidbit. "I told him there wasn't any reason you couldn't come back to Cousin's this summer if you had some good incentive."

She wasn't wrong. It wasn't like I had plans like Steven and Belly. I didn't need to be anywhere until the middle of August. I didn't need to shut everything down before it even started; before giving it a chance to be something to forget about at all. It was a nice thought that was almost immediately ruined by Conrad's look of relief when I told him I'd do the exact opposite. Maybe in a different world where I wasn't leaving for California in five weeks, or if I had any concrete plans of spending more time in Cousin's this summer, I'd feel different. Not to mention that I still didn't have the slightest idea where Conrad's head was at after yesterday and I wasn't sure I even wanted to. The world in which I could be excited about this didn't exist and it was time to make peace with that.

"You know he invited me to his ball game? I can't believe I have to leave before seeing him in those white pants."

"Y/N!" Belly threw her stuffed polar bear, Junior Mint, at my chest and I caught it with a laugh. "I knew you liked him. He got so much hotter this year, I'm a little jealous I didn't get there first."

I gasped dramatically, "I'm telling Jeremiah!"

"I'm kidding…kind of. I mean, I'm definitely leaving but Danny Wilder could inspire a hot girl summer."

"Mm. Period." I looked back at the text and wondered if I should just leave it altogether. My stomach grumbled and it distracted me enough to leave it be for now and wave Belly off to the beach to have her fun.

I shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen after my shower, remembering the muffins Belly said would be waiting for me. The box was on the island like always and I smiled at the small victory. I really should have missed my chance at one, let alone my favourite, coming down after 11am. I opened the box and considered my choices when I heard someone clear their throat. I looked towards the sound and found Conrad standing in the doorway.

"Uh…I uh, saved you a carrot. It's under the cake plate." He gestured to the other side of the counter where it waited for me.

"Oh. Thanks." I walked that way and saw him shift his stance uncomfortably, and look down at his feet. I forced myself to give him the credit he deserved at that moment with a look of sincerity. "You didn't have to do that."

He looked pleasantly surprised, "It's no problem. You uh…call it a thanks for cleaning up last night. My mom really appreciated it."

"Of course. Anything for Susannah."

It was the most polite we'd ever been to each other in our entire lives. I wasn't even sure it was real since there were no witnesses to prove I wasn't making the whole thing up somehow. Belly and Steven would laugh in my face if I told them. But that didn't stop the awkwardness from getting worse by the second and finally I couldn't take it anymore. Conrad looked like he wanted to say something else but I couldn't hear it, whatever it was and I was scared that I already knew. Instead of giving him the chance, I mumbled a quick 'thanks again' and 'see you later' before bolting back upstairs with my carrot muffin in hand and shut the door behind me. I leaned back against it and wondered how I'd avoid whatever that was for the next 24 hours before my time in Cousin's would come to an end.

___________________________________________

author's note: I hope you enjoyed part 2 of 4th of July! How are we feeling at this point? Don't worry because there's still lots more story to come even if Y/N thinks her journey is ending. Next chapter is a day at the boardwalk! Thank you again for the continued support 💚💛🧡❤️. Reply with comments and let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist. If you'd like to ask me about any upcoming chapter warnings you wanna be warned of ahead of time (angst? 18+ smut?) then come visit my blog with any questions and I'll be happy to answer!

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