#or maybe just hanging around a bonfire and saying nothing

[sirazaroff]

I’m so glad Vel’s with Nora. Poor baby going thru so much…I feel like the wisdom and company of a gentle bun will do her a lot of good in their Vacuo arc. It’s like how Weiss is so sensitive to people and gives amazing insights. Velvet is that too in her own unique ways.

[joeloverture]

HOOK 'EM PT. 2

hook 'em hot stuff | coach!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | series masterlist | notifs blog | on palestine pairing: college football coach!joel x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] old habits die hard, so they say. you never understood why, but here you are, breaking into coach joel miller's house for a taste of what he's been keeping from you. warnings: (18+ mdni) reader is a bad example (a REALLY bad example), joel is so nonchalant that it's almost crackfic material, getting a semi when a pretty girl attempts a break-in, guilty joel attempts to keep his morals intact (and promptly fails), age gap (22/52), could be considered dubcon by way of power imbalance but consent is enthusiastic, undernegotiated kink for sake of storyline but don't follow this example, explicit content, pussy pronouns, daddy kink, brat tamer!joel, degradation, praise, meanish!joel, pussy slapping, belting/spanking with a belt, body writing, m!masturbation, cumplay/eating, panty play(?), face slapping, orgasm denialish (you'll see) [no use of y/n] word count: 7k (wtf) a/n: howdy. real cowboys never die so i'm back to continue what i started *checks watch* 11 months ago. (i also promised that if they won the game, i'd write this.) again, all of this is for entertainment parody, and any college implied here is incredibly fictionalized. coach!joel captured all of our hearts and he's here in this incredibly out of pocket (so out of pocket it's right) sequel. enjoy 💋

“This is head Coach Miller at Austin. I can’t get to the phone right now, but you can leave a text or a voicemail and I’ll be sure to get back to you–”

The answering message, as it plays through the tinny speakers of your phone, is dry, lackluster. As if Joel hadn’t wanted to record it at all, had said fuck it after the first take. It sounds nothing like the voice that had talked you through two of the best orgasms of your life.

You’d tried to rationalize it at first – he’s busy, a coach at one of the biggest college football programs in the United States, it’s approaching the playoffs, maybe he’s out of state recruiting some shithead high schooler – but after four missed phone calls and two unanswered texts spread out through the course of the week, you figure that’s that.

He’d been so tender with you after fucking your brains out. Dragging a wet rag along the seam of your thighs, redressing you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He’d even refused to let you walk to your dorm alone so late in the night, his guarding, protective arm hanging around your waist as he’d escorted you to the shitty building. Now you’re leaving clingy voicemails in his inbox, staring at a ceiling that’s probably full of asbestos as you try to make peace with the fact that Coach Miller didn’t give a shit about you – only your pussy. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. 

You were probably just some dumb college girl to him, close enough to graduating that he didn’t lose sleep at night over hitting it, but too far from adulthood to complement his crows feet and successful career.

Conclusion: even if it was the best sex of your life, you should’ve hightailed it out of there the second he’d offered to take you over his knee.

Again – you’re not known for making the best decisions.

You roll over on your stomach, burying your head in your arms and shutting your phone off.

The worst part about it all is that you’re fucking horny. Unbearably so. Even just sitting there, you can hear Joel’s filthy words carouseling through your head, that initial groan when he sank all the way inside of you. Your persistent horniness isn’t the only problem, either. Lately, your roommate never seems to leave the dorm, and when she does, you find that Joel has ruined your vibrator for you. Your pussy might just shrivel up if it doesn’t get the loving it deserves. He’d lit a permanent goddamn bonfire in your stomach, and it just so happened that he was the only one with a fire extinguisher. 

But the same guy probably wants nothing to do with you. Probably came to his senses enough to know that everything about fucking his star player’s ex girlfriend is a recipe for bad news in the making.

There’s a version of yourself that doesn’t know when to stop. That’s the version that must be controlling you as you reach for your phone, opening up a new search. ‘Where does joel miller live?’ And, theoretically, you could stop right there, press the tempting little ‘x’ at the top of the screen and pretend that your mind hadn’t even gotten that far, that desperate. Instead, you click on the first article that appears: Miller’s new $1,000,000 Tarrytown home.

You could even stop there. Tarrytown isn’t a place for someone like you, waist-deep in student loans that need paying off. Tarrytown is wealthy and upscale, pretentious and genteel. In fact, you’d only passed through there once, almost blackout drunk in the backseat of your only sober friend’s car. You’d nearly jumped out of your goddamn skin upon seeing a roaming peacock with its feathers all spread, clucking through the street in search of a mate. She’s teased you about it ever since, but with what you have in mind, you’re about to be impersonating that peacock. 

Knowing that the bastard lives in Tarrytown would usually be enough to put you off — if it were anyone else. Your ‘eat the rich’ values apparently stutter when there’s a chance of getting your pussy eaten.

Curiosity kills the cat, and so you poke around Zillow for recent sales in Tarrytown. Lucky for you, only one fits the description in the article. It’s multi-story, built on a half acre behind a centuries-old oak tree. And going for the hefty price of $1,002,358.

Nine minutes away. A good commute. Gated, and probably for good reason, considering what you’re about to do.

You throw on a nice, lacy set underneath your black clothes and top it all off with a black baseball cap. You’re pretty sure it’s Lucas’s, your shitty ex’s that had technically started this whole mess, but you can’t be too sure.

You don’t tell your roommate where you’re going, just that if everything goes well, you won’t be back until tomorrow morning.

You chain your bike to a lamppost, and it sticks out like a sore thumb on the cobblestone sidewalk. Even though you’ve already seen the pictures, Joel’s house is hardly even a house. It’s a fucking palace with windows for walls and a vaulted roof. Everything is stacked on top of each other, and the oak tree mentioned in the listing casts a shadow along the structure. The gas lamps adorning the gated limestone archway are on, and the flames wince across the concrete path leading into the home. They aren’t bright enough to blow your cover if Joel happens to peek through the many, many windows, but you steer clear of them regardless.

The gate really isn’t that tall, only about eight feet off the ground. A nearby sturdy tree gives you a good place to prop yourself up as you haul yourself over it and into a well-kept patch of ferns. You roll into the dirt, grunting as you almost fall flat on your ass. Your elbows catch you at the last second, and you take a few deep breaths.

You dust yourself off, squinting through the front of the house in hopes of catching a glimpse at him. He’s definitely home, and probably away, too, judging by the amount of lights that are on. Still, no sign of him. All football coaches have to be a workaholic. You wouldn’t be surprised at all if he was in his home office with his feet propped up, watching tapes of his opponents to prepare for the next game.

Good. Less chance of him seeing you right away.

Joel seems like the type of guy to subscribe to the ‘fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me,’ philosophy, so it makes sense that both of his garages are closed. You half-crawl, half-crouch your way through the front yard, careful not to crush any more of his plants as you creep your way up the front steps. You give his front door a shot. Locked, too.

“Shit,” you mumble to yourself. You inch through the brush, turning the corner of the house and taking cover behind his rumbling air conditioning unit so you can scan the back patio.

Of course Joel Miller has a pool. And you’d bet good money that he never uses it. There’s an unlit fire pit surrounded by a sunken seating area nearby, and you slink through the area to make your way over to the terrace. Your hand reaches out for the doorknob, but it doesn’t even get there before you’re eating shit for the second time that night.

A body slams into yours as you hit the ground with a cry, your shoulder taking the brunt of the impact as concrete scrapes at your palms. Even though it’s dark and everything feels like you’re trapped in a kaleidoscope, you’d have to be an idiot not to recognize the familiar weight pressing into you. Strong thighs wrap around yours. Calloused hands grab at your wrists, effortlessly pinning them over your head. You squirm, trying and failing to knee at the small of his back.

You should be scared, terrified, maybe, of what he could do to you. Push you into the pool and tell you to fuck right off at best, call the cops and have you arrested for two counts of trespassing at worst. But instead, all you can think about is the insistent press of his bulge between your legs, his broad shoulders hanging over your torso, his long fingers twisted around your hands. All of it renders your heart racing and your body motionless. You look up at him, unable to stop yourself from eye fucking him. Loungewear is a good look on him, gray sweatpants low on his waist and a tattered longhorns t-shirt. He has his reading glasses on, and fuck, if it doesn’t do something to you.

A tiny whimper slips out, and, naturally, that’s when Joel’s dark eyes flash with recognition.

Joel mutters your name, surprise thick in his tired voice. “What the hell are you doin’ in my backyard?” He goes back on his haunches and lets go of your hands. You rub at the sore spots he’d left in his wake.

You don’t answer, opting to look away to hide the shame that’s plain as day on your face. This was stupid. You’re so fucking stupid.

“Are you always tryna catch a charge?” Joel asks. He shakes his head at you, forehead wrinkling as he furrows his brows. All you can do is nod in response. “Un-fuckin’-believable.”

He finally lifts off of you, groaning as something in his back pops when he stands upright. He reaches down at you, and, stubbornly, you ignore his hand in favor of picking yourself up. You dust yourself off again, winching as you brush against a patch of skin that’s sure to bruise later.

“C’mon,” Joel says, nudging the back door open. You step inside and pause to wipe your shoes on the rug beyond the threshold.

The interior is also just as fancy as the Zillow photos had suggested. You find yourself in a lounge with a vaulted ceiling, surprised to find just how Joel the space is. There’s sports magazines on the coffee table and a half-empty longhorns tumbler filled with black coffee. The TV on the mantle of the fireplace is playing a rerun of a Dallas Cowboys game, surrounded by memorabilia like an unmarked high school football helmet, probably a souvenir from his varsity career.

“Now, what’s got your panties in a twist?”

“You didn’t answer my texts,” you say, albeit a little dumbly. You rub at one of your elbows to try to shake off the embarrassment.

Okay, aloud, it does sound just a teensy bit like an overreaction.

Joel blinks at you. Takes off his reading glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. Then, releases a long, winded sigh. “Shit – hun, I’m so sorry–”

“Save your sorries,” you spit back, suddenly angry of all things. Angry that he has you wrapped right around the same fingers that had been inside of you, angry that he hadn’t answered your calls, your texts, your voicemails, angry that he has the audacity to ask what happened. “All that talk about treating me right and you can’t even pick up the fucking phone. I’ll leave right now if you’re not interested, but the least you could do is let me know.” Your lower lip quivers.

He goes quiet, toeing at the ground. His hands land on his hips. “Darlin’–”

“He cheated on me and you trampled all over my emotional vulnerability so you could get your dick wet. How the fuck does that make you any better than the boys you promised to be better than? You’re just like them. Fucking your way through half of the campus and nothing to show for it.” You’re breathing heavily as your eyes burn more and more by the second. You keep thinking you’ll have more to say, but you don’t. Everything in your body feels like lead, and time moves like molasses. Only silence meets you. Of course, it’d end like this. You, humiliated, and him, held all but unaccountable for his actions.

You squeeze your eyes shut before turning around on your heel to leave the way you’d come. His hand, soft and guiding as opposed to the last time he’d touched you, wraps around your forearm. You plant your feet in the ground, but still don’t turn around to face him. “You’re right,” Joel says, voice acquiescent. “It wasn’t fair to you. But ‘s part of why I didn’t pick up. Ain’t right, you ‘n me. I took advantage of you. Practically coerced you.” You swallow, but it’s like swallowing needles. “You shoulda reported me the second you got back to your dorm. For… for violating you like that.” He damn near spits the word out like it’s poisonous. Violating.

If that’s what’s holding him back…

You shift, facing him. He scratches the back of his neck. His flush bleeds down to his chest. “Joel, the absolute last thing you did was violate me. I wanted it. Haven’t stopped fucking thinking about it. That’s why it hurt so bad when you left me hanging.” A frown pinches your lips. “You could’ve at least let me know, Joel.”

“You needa quit thinkin’ about it. Ain’t gonna do either of us any good.” He exhales. “Besides. Even if I wanted to reach out, I’ve been workin’ 17 hour days in prep for next week’s game. This is the first day I’ve had peace ‘n quiet since we…” He trails off, cheeks somehow reddening even more. 

“How often do you do that?” you can’t stop yourself from asking.

“Do what?” he asks, his own lips falling into a frown. He looks a little bit like a kicked puppy, being on the receiving end of your confrontation.

“Take girls half your age over your knee at the workplace. Let them call you ‘daddy’ while they squirm in your lap. Fuck them?”

He squeezes his eyes shut and hisses. You can almost see the memories flashing behind his eyelids. “Gotta stop talkin’ like that, hun.”

“No,” you say, voice quiet. “Really. How often?”

“Never,” he says, and he sounds sincere. “Been over a year since I was last with someone. Been a whole lot longer since it… felt that good.”

You take a step closer to him, tongue slipping out to lick your lips. “Felt good for me, too.”

He shakes his head, still denying what you’re laying out so plainly for him. “Just ‘cause it feels good don’t make it right.”

“Doesn’t it?” you ask. You cock your head, brows brought together and eyes round with want.

He takes a slow, unsteady breath. But he doesn’t step away.

“I’m an adult Joel.” You reach out to him. Again, he doesn’t step away. Your hand flattens against his shoulder.

“Not one of your brutish, sweaty players who only thinks in frat vocab.” You drag your palm down from his shoulder, across his chest, fluttering along his stomach.

His eyes close as your thumb snags the waistband of his sweatpants. Still, he doesn’t intervene. “I’m a grown woman with a future ahead of myself. It’s not in the handbook that you’re forbidden from engaging in this sort of thing with a student, so long as they’re not one of your players.”

“Yeah, yeah, I read the handbook, kid—”

When you palm at his bulge, he’s already hard.

You hitch a brow at him. A snide remark sits on your tongue.

“Shut the fuck up,” he grouses, and then shoves you back on his couch. Your impact knocks a tacky, tasseled throw pillow out of the way. You yank off the cap you stole from Lucas and toss it over your shoulder.

“Beggin’ for a dickin’ down,” he says. “Trespassing on my fucking property for it like some lunatic. That’s how bad you need this cock?”

You nod like you’ve forgotten how to do anything else. With how you act when you think of Joel, that’s… probably the case. “Joel, plea–”

He slaps you across the face. Your vision pixelates and your head rings, but the handprint blooming on your cheek translates to slick blooming in your panties. “Nuh uh,” he says. “You know my name, smartass.” You moan, hips jerking to meet his.

“Daddy,” you whine. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about.” It is. No silicone toy or plastic cock nestled in your bedroom drawer compared to the man in front of you — and you’d know. You tried them all.  

“Ain’t a surprise there,” Joel says. “Bet you’ve been rubbin’ yourself silly thinking of your daddy, mm?”

“Yes!” you damn near squeal out as Joel roughly palms at your tits. You get stuck in the labyrinth of your shirt as you fumble out of it, arms finding all the wrong holes. Finally, you toss the thoroughly wrinkled scrap of fabric over the couch. “Every day, sometimes more,” you admit, because it’s the embarrassing truth. When it comes to him, you’re loopy, off-kilter, teetering with desire and want.

“Dirty girl, aren’t you?” he says, unclasping your bra. He lures your arms out of the straps. His throat bobs as he eyes you up. Based on how you look in the reflection of his dark eyes, he’s been thinking of this. Because for all his virtuosity, Coach Miller crumbles at the thought of defiling you. And he damns himself for it.

He says, “Came allllll the way over here to get fucked in this little number. Why, ‘cause your fingers ain’t enough anymore? Buzzing buddies not doin’ it for ya? Can’t make yourself come without me, hm?” 

“No, no, I can’t—” you exhale at him, desperately arching your back to push your tits into his sports-calloused hands. He gives you nipples a squeeze and twist, and it’s electricity straight into your clit. Your squirm, legs kicking helplessly beneath him. “Daddy.”

He pouts at you. “Damn shame. Creamy, drippy little pussy like this…” You hadn’t noticed his hand lowering until he cups a hand around your clothed mound. Your hips jerk. “Bet she’s squeezing real good ‘round nothing, isn’t she? Wants to take daddy nice ‘n deep.”

“Please, daddy, I want you to fuck me,” you gasp out. Your head lolls back as his thumb presses over your clothed clit, the friction from your panties amplifying the sensation as he rubs you in tight, successive circles.

“Yeah, well that’s what you want. What you’ve earned is a belting. Hell, maybe even a paddling for a repeat offender like yourself. Gotta stop getting into scenarios where I needa spank you right. Clearly didn’t whack ya hard enough last time, girl.”

You pout at him, and he only rolls his eyes. “Really. First you had some revenge syndrome, and now you have dick disease. Have to make you earn it, sweetie. ‘Specially when you keep on diggin’ your own grave.”

“You spanked me last time we did this,” you mumble.

“Oh yeah? And I remember you leakin’ everywhere like a goddamn busted pipe. So shut your trap and bend over for me, mhm? I know this pussy likes when I’m rough with ‘er. Know you like it.”

You cross your arms. Consider leaving chin-up with your pride intact — not out of lack of interest, but out of stubbornness. But you can already feel your wetness smearing across your thighs. Not only did you come all this way hoping for this exact thing, but you can imagine just how uncomfortable the bike ride back to your dorm will be with the seat of your bike pressed into your crotch.

You bite the bullet and toss a pillow to the floor. You fold yourself over the couch.

It feels distinctly familiar and indistinctly unfamiliar. Just a few days ago, he’d hauled you over his knee for the same reason. Attraction lit like a match, and discipline served properly.

You hear Joel shimmying around in the vicinity and tilt your head to look at him. First, you’re captured by the broadness of him, how he can easily manhandle you with his stature. But it’s hard not to be distracted by how his house, for all of its grandeur, is little more than a fifty-year-olds bachelor pad.

The walls are mostly bare apart from the occasional art that looks like he snagged from Homegoods. Everything is so modern and brutalistic, all sharp-edged and cubed. “You need to hire an interior designer with that batshit crazy salary of yours,” you tell him.

He huffs out a half-laugh, and returns to your side with a belt he pulled from the table. You squint at the buckle. It’s a pewter longhorn. Of course. It’s like they have a longhorn fetish. They just can’t shake the obsession with the cattle.

“Gonna spank me with your livestock whip?” you snort. 

Joel stares you down, unimpressed. “You think you’re funny,” he says. He sits next to where your cheek rests on the couch and gently rubs a circle into your back. His face turns serious for a moment. “I know I didn’t verbally establish this last time — and that’s on me — but you can ask me to stop any time. I hope you know that.”

You give him what feels like a bit of a dopey look. “I know, daddy. I know my limits, too.”

“Attagirl,” he says, patting you on the back. He gives you a look, seeking permission, and you nod. He tugs your pants down. They slump to your folded knees. You tap your fingers against the soft material of the couch. Joel reaches over you and under the gusset of your panties, swiping a long, thick finger through your weeping cunt. Your hips rock, chasing the sensation, and as if reprimanding you, Joel gives a swift tug to the back of your panties, lodging them deep within your cheeks. You squeak in surprise and stop your squirming. He chuckles breathlessly above you.

“Still got this… calligraphy… ‘a mine all over your ass.” He traces his thumb along each letter of the trophy he’d left you. The w, the h, the o, the r, the e. When you left the stadium that night, it was with a reminder of exactly what Joel thinks of you. “‘S like you’re tryna make it last, mmm? You like knowing you’re my whore?” 

A tiny whimper splits from your mouth, forehead tilting into the crook of your shoulder as to hide your face. You manage a nod.

“Nuh uh,” Joel says. He reaches for your wrists and pins them behind your back. “Thought you’d knew better than to be repeatin’ the same song and dance. I know you can behave, slutty girl. Just gotta give you a nudge in the right direction.” He palms your ass cheek the same way he’d palmed your tit, and a chill travels along your skin at the perceived feeling of him being so close to your cunt.

He’d ravaged and ruined you, and you walked right back in to let him do it all over again.

Joel folds the belt in half, the gaudy buckle clanking as he turns his day-to-day belt into the perfect implement to administer your punishment. You muffle one of your noises as he drags the leather along your skin, raising gooseflesh in his trail. You can tell he’s tracing the letters, stretched and faded to near-obscurity, along your ass.

You expect him to bring it down across your ass, but instead, he teases it between your legs. Your breath stumbles over your teeth as the leather streaks along your clothed clit. Your hips chase the passing sensation, and the bastard snorts at you. In spite of Joel’s grasp around your wrists, your fingers twirl in anticipation.

“Pathetic ‘lil pussy. Dripping and squeezing even if you’ve got a thrashing comin’ up. Maybe it’s because you’ve got a thrashing coming up. Masochistic mess over here.”

You scoff, “Yeah, and a hot mess, if ‘Lil Joel is any indicator.”

The first hit takes you by surprise. Leather erupts across your ass cheeks, and your fingers scramble for purchase — impossible to find, with how Joel grips your wrists. You make a surprised noise, head tipping to knock your forehead into his thigh. “Shit, were you the quarterback? Packing a punch this time, Coa— mmph.” Your trailing, pathetic sound is muffled by the abrupt splat of his belt back on your exposed ass.

“Had enough ‘a your sass, baby. Can’t be giving me lip when your other set is salivatin’ all over my floor.”

You grunt, squeezing your eyes shut so you don’t glare at him. Dick. Fever licks up your spine. It wraps around your neck, making you lightheaded and nebulous with want. Arousal leaks down your inner thighs. When you press them together in hopes for relief and that Joel’s old man eyes will sabotage him, you’re not shocked by the next thwack of leather against your skin. It still makes you jolt.

“Not gettin’ away with that, sweetheart. Better not see ya ruttin’ against this couch either. Already had to scrub down the one in the locker room since you sprayed your pussy juices all over it like a sprinkler.”

“Yes, daddy,” you grumble. He raises a brow at you, face stern and hard.

You make up for it not verbally, but by arching your back and wiggling your hips. A willing participant in your own demise. It’s only a matter of time before the anaphora of Joel’s belt whacking against your ass has you keening for his cock. You’ve already begged for it every night this week — just with your own hand fishing between your legs for an orgasm you can’t seem to catch, and with his name glued to your pillowcase with your drool.  

“See? That’s more like it.” You press back into him as his hand lets go of your wrists. It’s a brief respite, and you cling to the edge of the couch as his hand traces down your back, cupping your ass. Your eyes roll back as his finger slips past your panties and prods at your entrance, barely half of a knuckle.

“Daddy,” you pout.

“Sweet… as…” You look up through lidded eyes at him. Watch as your slick stretches hammocks between his fingers. Watch him slide them into his mouth, sucking them clean with an audible pop. You cunt clenches, demanding something that he doesn’t seem eager to dish out. “sugar.” he finishes. His fingers glisten.

“Daddy,” you say again. Needier this time. Longing. Wanting.

“Bet you could come untouched from this shit, couldn’t ya?”

The thought makes you shiver, but you shake your head back and forth fast enough to give you whiplash. You want — need him to touch you.

“Aww, poor little thing wants to come?” he all but coos at you. This time, you nod fast enough to take your own head off. “Too bad.”

You squeal as he brings the belt down again, toes wriggling as if they can run away from how electrified your body is. “W-what?” you choke out.  

“You want daddy to let you come?”

Your hands fist into the couch cushion. “The fuck do you think?”

You don’t even see him move before you feel the belt, ripping like lightning along your inflamed skin. “After you snuck into my stadium?”

“After you vandalized one ‘a our new uniforms?”

You’ve tensed this time in preparation, but it’s not enough. The next swing of his arm has you crying out. Your pussy clenches and more wetness gushes from you. “Ungh, Daddy!”

“After you came snoopin’ around like the Pink Panther?” Two lashings, for that. Both in rapid succession, crackling flames along your hypersensitive skin. You don’t even have time to give him snark. You wail, and half of it jerks out of you in a ragged moan.

He’s too quick at giving your ass another lash. “After being a cock hungry temptress who’d do anything to get that drippy ‘lil hole between her legs stuffed?”

If you were sore after your first encounter with the man, you fear for your capability to sit after this one. “I’m sorry!” You sniffle a little, and while your eyes may be watering, you squeeze your eyes shut so not to cry. It’s embarrassing enough to be laid out in front of him like this, quivering with juices weeping down your legs.

“Cute,” Joel snorts. “Sorry for what, exactly? Bet you got a laundry list of misdeeds. Risqué little girl like you, so quick to put her ass up in the air and take a beating insteada owin’ up to her mistakes.”

“I’m sorry,” you gasp out. “F-For breaking in.” You frown. “...Twice.”

“Coulda had you in the slammer by now, girl. But no. You just want me, dontcha? All up in your guts…” He grabs your ass cheek and squeezes, kneading the flesh there and leaving it with a shrill slap. You whimper. “Whallopin’ this pretty little peach. Sortin’ you out. Bein’ your daddy.” He grips the inside of your thigh, nudging your legs further apart. His hand, large and ridged with callouses, travels up your knee, over your thigh, down to your core. You shudder.

“Daddy…” you plead. You tilt your head and look up at him properly. How he looms over you, his free hand wrapped around your opposite shoulder so he can hold your side against his thigh. A tiny smirk quirks his lips, and his nose crinkles. There’s a glint of mischief in his dark eyes. “Please.” Your voice comes out as a lust-thickened whisper, bittersweet like molasses.

You think he might throw you a bone. Might thrust a finger or two into your dripping heat, which throbs and has a heartbeat of its own whenever he’s around. Instead, he slaps your mound. Your clit twitches, and you stream slick onto his hand. “Ah! Daddy!”

“Drippin’ like a busted pipe, baby. All from bein’ tossed around a bit.”

You’re floating, now. Or perhaps a more apt way to describe it would be that you’re firmly planted on the ground — just facedown while the room spins and spins and spins.

“Honestly, I didn’t know this elite university admitted little sluts like yourself. Bet you hold yourself all prim and proper while you’re all academic during the day. Then you get home and, what, rub yourself silly? Spank yourself because you know you deserve it? You wanna get split open on this cock, roughed up, talked down to.”

“I do, Daddy, I do!” you whine. “I told you — I’m sorry! For all of it. Please, I want whatever you’ll give me. A-Anything.” You feel as if your bones are matches, each one lit up in a chain reaction all the way to your core, which melts and melts down the insides of your thighs. “I’ll do—”

“Anything, baby?”

You nod eagerly, your moistened lower lip jutting out.

“Alright, alright,” he says. His voice is calmer now. Steady. He pats you on the ass softer this time and taps the couch next to him. You scramble up on the cushions, kicking off your shoes and pants in the process, and lay back. Your fingers twitch with the desire to just touch him. From this angle, you can see the definition of his bulge in his sweats. You remember how all of him felt inside of you, as if your entire body had to reshape itself around him, had to make room for the amount of space he occupies. He tosses his belt onto the coffee table.

Your cunt is a kickdrum between your legs. Juices dribble down the creases of your thighs, and for a moment, you fear that you’re actually ruining another couch of his. If you are, he doesn’t say. Just hitches his waistbands down and —

You audibly moan.

“Slutty ‘lil whore,” he says as he takes his fat cock in hand. Precum beads at the tip, and you find yourself licking your lips. You salivate at the sight of him. The heavy balls hanging low beneath his cock, his girth, and the taut, tan skin of his thighs. He’s enrapturing.

“You’re cute, baby,” he says, but the words are condescending. That’s probably why it makes you drip. “You look real good with them ‘fuck me daddy’ eyes. Maybe they’re jus’ that glossy ‘cause your ass is still stingin’. But you deserve it, dontcha? For wanting it?”

“Yes sir…” His eyes flash with something narrowly close to possession. Your teeth dig into your lower lip. With his free hand, he reaches up to your lips, pulling down your bottom lip and running his tongue along the seam of it. You take it upon yourself to suckle on his thumb, tongue swirling around the rough pad of his fingertip. Your tiny moan buzzes around the digit. “Mmph.”

Joel’s eyes, dark and dilated, trail up your exposed form. “I’d shove my cock down that tight throat of yours, but you ain’t earned it.” His hand drags down your chest, tugging and groping at bare skin. His wet thumb plucks at your nipple. Your hips hitch, grinding against thin air. Joel tuts. “Thought I whipped some sense into ya. Or some goddamn manners, at least.” His hand leaves your chest and pins one of your thighs to the couch. You squirm.

“Daddy,” you mewl. “I need – something.”

“Daddy,” Joel mocks in a high-pitched, imitated whine of your plea. “You stay right still. You’re fortunate enough I’m letting you watch.”

It’s then that you realize what he’s planning to do. Deprive you by jerking himself off all over you.

“No, no, please– I promise I’ll be good! I’ll be good, please, I n-need your co–”

Joel slaps you across the face. Again. This time, it’s harder, enough for your head to roll to the side and your eyes to roll back. Your cunt throbs. Your hearing clangs like windchimes. “Do not whine at me like a petulant child. You’re a damn lucky duck that I ain’t knocked you on your ass for all the shit you been pullin’. So you’ll sit there, and if I see you raise so much as a fuckin’ hair on your head to touch yourself, I ain’t afraid to spank that pussy raw, too. Bet you wouldn’t be touchin’ it if it was all sore and achy.”

You look down and give a small, half-nod.

“Go on. Be a good girl and ask for it,” Joel says, brow hitched. Self-righteous bastard.

You mumble something faintly under your breath.

“Wanna repeat that, baby?”

“Jerk your cock off on my pussy, daddy,” you whimper out, hips still squirming on the couch.

“Mmm, that’s more like it.”

Joel taps his cock against your clothed clit. A warning, almost. “Ngh, daddy, I–”

“Don’t start,” he scowls and inches back a bit. Then, he wraps his hand around his cock and gives himself a languid pump. He groans, eyes going lidded as he starts up at a steady pace. 

“I was going to say… I want you to come on me.” You take heavy, labored breaths, matching the rapid rise and fall of Joel’s chest. Sweat is darkening the creases of his shirt as he works himself. 

“Yeah? Ain’t a surprise, there. Filthy slut wants daddy’s come all over her pussy? Gonna walk back to your dorm with it dryin’ on your undies?” You’ll make fun of him for that later. But now, all you can do is nod at him. “Or maybe I’ll stuff ‘em in your smart mouth. See how ya feel when you can taste how much of a whore you are.”

You gasp, back arching even though there’s no pleasure for you to chase. He gets off on this. On denying you. Degrading you. It’s a high like nothing else. “Please, I– I want you to stuff them in my mouth–”

Joel hisses. You see his cock twitch in his fist. “Make you walk home all leaky and wanting, just like a hussy should? For all those fits you’ve been pitchin’?” He grunts as his hips roll to meet each wet thrust of his fist. His lips are parted, head hung while he stares at your soaked pussy. How your panties cling to your folds. He moans, thumb brushing over his tip. More precum drips from the head, trailing down his wrist. His back curves inwards as he leans closer to you.

He squeezes the hand he’s got wrapped around your leg. “Daddy, daddy!” He’s close, you can tell. Each breath he takes is short and rasping. Each thrust gets clumsier. You think you could come from this alone. The image of him, huffing and red-faced while he fucks his fist right in front of you and calls you names. “Come on me, please, I want to be covered in you–”

He moans, and his cock jolts in his tight grip. “I’m comin’, baby, I’m comin’.”

Ropes of his cum sprays on the gusset of your panties, once, twice, but before the third spirit, he wraps his hand through the leg holes of your panties and tugs up. You make a choked, frazzled moan, and maybe it’s the way the fabric pinches your clit, maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you as if you were made to be devoured. Maybe it’s just how pent up you are.

You tense and then shatter in one go, your orgasm gushing into your panties. Seizing, your back arches up off of the couch as one of your palms clambers for purchase over his. “Fuck, daddy,” you moan pathetically, hips thudding against the couch while you rock into the taut fabric. You fall back, limp and reeling. 

“Fuck,” Joel says, breathless. He stares at where your white-stained panties steep in your convulsing cunt, how more juice seeps out of them with each clench of your wrecked pussy. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his palm. “Really are a nasty girl. A little pain slut, aren’t ya baby?” His eyes glitter while he looks at you, and you imagine he must be close enough to getting hard again that he can’t come through on his promises of anger.

“Roll over for me,” he says, tapping your thigh. 

“Mmph?” You say, arm thrown over your forehead. Your eyes squeeze shut while the aftershocks hurdle through your muscles. “Oh, yeah.” You fumble, and your sweat-slick skin sticks to the couch as you turn yourself over. 

You hear a little pop, and can’t help but look over your shoulder. Of course. A Sharpie. This time, it’s gold.

“Gonna get a reputation, Miller,” you smirk at him, kicking your feet while he situates himself between your knees. He tugs your soiled panties off, and, as promised, guides the gusset to your mouth. You suck on it, eyes fluttering as you savor the conjoined musk of your mingling juices. It’s tart, but a little sweet. You feel the marker tugging at your ass, and hiss a little when he traces over a particularly sore spot.

“Yeah, well you already got one. I’m just makin’ sure you don’t forget.” He gives your ass another smack when he’s done, and you squeak. The couch stops slumping, and he pads across the room.

You stay there, head rested into your elbows and panties hanging out of your mouth while he rummages around in the vicinity. He comes back with some aloe gel. Gentle, he removes your panties from your tongue and tosses them on the table. You lick your lips, giving him a knowing look. He only rolls his eyes as he massages it into your bruised skin.

“Went a little hard on you this time, darlin’,” he says after a few moments of comfortable silence.

“I liked it,” you say.

“Yeah, I noticed.” He pats you dry. “If you got any ice packs back in your minifridge, wait a while before you ice that. Gotta let the skin repair for a day or so.”

“Aye-aye,” you say before rolling over to face him again. He’s tugged his sweats back on, but he’s golden with a post-sex glaze, a glow of sweat and contentedness. 

“‘M sorry,” he says again.

Your brows pucker. “I already told you, I lik-”

“No, for how I treated ya. Ain’t right to promise you somethin’ I can’t give ya.”

“You just gave it to me. Quite well, might I add,” you tease with a cloying grin.

“I can’t take you out,” he says. Your grin slips. He drags a hand down his face. “Everyone in this fuckin’ state, everyone in the goddamn south, even, knows who I am. Imagine the shit they’d say. Lucas–”

“Is a dick,” you say.

“Is a dick, but is also my kid. My mentee. The future of this team and my career, too. And even though he might be an asshole, he’s a good throw. Not to mention the three decades b’tween us. Not a good look, ‘specially for you. You got a whole world ahead ‘a ya. I can’t take that from you just ‘cause we have good sex.”

“So let’s just keep having good sex,” you say. “It’s the simplest thing in the world.”

“Yeah,” Joel says with a roll of his eyes. “Simple.” But then he seems to look like he’s thinking about it. Properly. He swallows. Crosses his arms over his broad chest. “Fine.”

“Really?” You say, brows raised. You’re surprised that worked.

“Want me to take it back?”

“No,” you say.

He simpers. “Thought so. Now c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.” He beckons you down the hallway after him, and you scoop your long-abandoned clothes off the floor. 

A smarter version of yourself would agree with him. But this version of yourself, the version that hopped his fence tonight, wants nothing more than to run back to the throttle of his hand and the loosening of his belt.

That version of yourself is the one who follows him down the hall.

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

“Give it to me, baby. C’mon,” JJ MAYBANK gestures to you, beckoning you with his sets of fingers flicking towards him as you gun right for him. He stoops, ripe to catch you, strapping his forearms under your thighs as he growls in approval with his teeth sunk low into the skin past his lips. You sling your arms around his neck, bumping the bill of his backwards-cap, so you fix it for him with a giddy lovesick grin.

“Jayj,” you sing, folding your legs around his hips coyly. The alcohol has reached your head, all woozy as you lull back. Preemptively, JJ arches away, counteracting your weight with his to rebalance you and bring you back to him. A tinge of hot color dusts your cheeks from the tipsy intoxication.

“How’re we feelin’, babycakes? You look a little out of it.” he asks but you know he doesn’t care about the answer, he just wants to point out how cute you look when you’ve been drinking. In your little stringy bikini, you let him grab onto your ass as he walks with you in hand. With every step, you jostle limply, breaking eye contact to pick yourself up again. Aware of your drunken state, you grin in spite of yourself, and it curls his lips too. There’s a mischievous gleam in his eyes when you meet his gaze again after you take a while to answer. “There’s my girl.”

“M’feelin’ al-right.” you reply with a committed nod, mustering up an endearingly determined expression as you draw closer to him. Sweetly, he pecks your unresponsive lips, kissing your wet teeth a bit and pulling back a string of saliva between you two that breaks. Instinctively, you chase his mouth, and murmur: “Bored.”

“‘Bored’?” he parrots, playfully incredulous, as if his princess could dare be bored. “You’re bored, huh? Well, that just won’t fly.” He shows you he’s about to drop you with a little double pat to your ass cheek, and you brace yourself for it, landing on your feet and adjusting the straps of your swim suit. “Want another beer? I’ll make it special for you.” His way of making beer from a keg in a red solo cup special is to blow a little kiss on it before he hands it to you. But you’re not interested in that right now.

This beach-side bonfire party had gotten to your head, and now you’re looking for a change of pace, so you grab onto two of his fingers to lead him away. As you walk in front of him, swaying your hips, he gets a glance at your backside stuffed into that teeny bikini bottom and he moans through his nose, head lulling back. He straightens, rolling his tongue between his lips, eyes glued to the way that ass moves when you take a step. “You look fuckin’ good, baby.” He gives you a sharper smack this time, one that makes you face him to hit him scoldingly with a scoff. As if he didn’t just swat you, he holds his arms up in feigned bewildered surrender, mouth gaping in obtuse shock. When the novelty wears off, he drops the act and steps to you. You press your hand to his chest to ward him off, but he checks you out, “You feelin’ slutty?” his low voice isn’t low enough, and you consider shoving him for saying something like that amongst all these people.

Indignantly, your jaw hangs, blinking at him in disbelief as he flashes you a raise of his brows. You concede with a roll of your eyes and a huff, snatching back his hand in which he leisurely follows you by. He knows where he’s going, what you’re about to beg him for. Find your car and finger blast you in the passenger seat until you’re ready to rejoin the party like nothing happened. Maybe if he’s lucky you’ll wanna sit on his cock a bit, play a little game of just-the-tip which always ends in you getting plowed. Warily, he glances over his shoulder to gauge any prying eyes as he lets you lead him away.

[qrrieterisunnq]

A week without you - Jack Hughes

jack!hughes x fem!reader Summary: Jack's on the roadie and he misses y/n so much, so he's cuddling with a body pillow, pretending that it's y/n… A/N: It's been a while since I posted something that wasn't requested, so enjoy this angst/fluff, and happy rest of the day! And it's not edited, I might edit it in two weeks, 'cause we have three weeks of practice, so I'll have time to do it. requested: yes/no likes are good, reblogs are better <3 gif, not mine word count: 1,65K warning(s): angst?, sad Jack, Luke being a caring young brother, FaceTiming

masterlist | wip's

Just eight days. Just eight days and he’ll be back at home, in the embrace of his lovely girl. Her hands would scratch at his scalp, as she’d listen to his talks about the roadie.

Jack is currently sitting on the bench in Rogers Arena in Vancouver, his breaths are heavy from the intense morning skate before the game against canucks.

“Jack?” Luke’s voice makes Jack jolt in place, his hand rising to his chest, taking in a deep breath.

“Dude, you scared the shit outta me,” he shifts on the bench, making a place for Luke to sit down. “What do you need?” Jack looks over at him, raising eyebrows in question and curiosity.

“Just wanna ask you, if you’re, okay?” there’s a concern in his eyes. He’s been observing Jack for the few days they were away from Jersey, and he can see the change in his mood. He’s been distant a lot and he was playing like shit in the last two games they had. “You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“I’m fine.” Jack tries to sound convincing, but Luke doesn’t buy it. He lets out a deep sigh, hanging his head low, thinking about how to make Jack talk.

“Jack, you know that is a lame, thing to say,” Jack nods his head, knowing damn right, that he can’t get away from this conversation. “Tell me, what is going on, J.”

Jack takes in deep breath, while he’s sorting out his thoughts. “It’s nothing…I just miss y/n you know,” he let out, fiddling with his gloves. “I know I was away from her for longer, but it just hits me hard, you know. In a month we have our year anniversary and I feel like I should be with her, you know.” he looks over at Luke his eyes already on his brother, concern in them.

“I can’t say I know how you feel, but I get it. If I had a girl and our anniversary was coming, I’d wanted to be with her too.” Luke nods understandingly and throws his arm around his shoulders to pull him close. “Come on,” Luke stands up, holding Jack’s hand to help him up. “Practice is over, and I’m sure, y/n is waiting for you to call her.” This seems to bring Jack into reality. He swiftly stood up, moving past Luke to the locker room, leaving Luke standing in the place with nothing more than an amazed expression.

“Wow, that was quick.” He mumbles to himself with an amused smile on his lips and follows his brother into the locker room.

“Lukey?” Jack turns at his younger brother with a plea in his eyes.

“Yeah?” he says bluntly not looking up from his phone as he makes his way into the room dropping his bag on the ground next to Jack’s.

“Could you maybe go to the boys for a while?” Jack starts carefully waiting for Luke’s reaction. His brows raised in confusion before he can ask why, Jack explains. “I want to talk with y/n for a while. You know, in private.”

“Yeah, sure!” he nods his head, opening his bag to pull out a wallet. “I’m sure the boys will head to a restaurant, so I’ll go with them,” he says making his way to the doors. He catches sight of Jack’s expression, chuckling to himself. “And I promise I won’t drink anything!” with a small wave he leaves the room, his phone already glutted to his ear as he’s calling Nico asking where they are.

Jack walks over to his bed popping down, he pulls his phone from his pants. A wide smile spreads across his lips as he sees his wallpaper. It’s him, hugging you tightly to his chest as you both fall asleep in a chair at a bonfire last summer in the lake house.

He finds your contact, dialing your number, waiting impatiently for you to pick up.

With a groan leaving your lips, you reach over the table to get your phone. You’re not in the mood to talk with someone. Your boss was an ass to you, giving you another thing to do, even though your work hours ends in ten minutes. Not looking at the caller ID, you pick it up, groaning. “What is it?”

“Oh, hi. Am I calling too soon? I thought you were done with work.” Jack lets out, scrunching his nose as he looks at the time. It’s 1 pm in Vancouver which means it's 4 pm in Jersey.

“Sorry, baby. No, you’re calling right. It’s my boss. He gave me another thing to do so I’ll be here for another hour or so,” you sigh, getting the call on speaker, placing the phone next to you, focusing back on your work. “Anyway, you excited for today's game?” you say with a smile on your lips. You were supposed to come to that game, but your boss wouldn't give you time off, so you’ll be cheering on them from home.

“Oh, so excited! Another time we’ll be playing against Quinn. It’s always amazing playing against him. Just sucks that you won’t be here.” You can imagine the pout he’s wearing on his lips, together with his sad blue eyes.

“I know my love, I was looking forward to seeing you play all together. I’m sure, there will be other chances I’ll get to see you play. Maybe next season, okay? But don’t think about it, tell me something!” you say in a cheerful voice. You love listening to his voice while you’re working or doing something.

His voice is so angelic. You could listen to his voice forever and you wouldn’t be bored of it.

“Okay, but I don’t know what,” he snorts chuckling.

“Anything! What were you doing today?” you asked, waiting for him to start talking. As soon as his voice sounds through the speaker you start typing on your notebook.

On the other side of the call, Jack is lying in his bed, a pillow pressed to his chest as he talks about his practice, aware that y/n is working and that she probably doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Y/n,” he asks when there’s a long silence.

“Yeah?” she hums bluntly her focus on the task she’s almost done with.

“I miss you,” Jack whispers shyly, his voice soft. You let out a sigh, a pout forming on your lips. “I miss you so much. I don’t know if I’ll make another day without you.” He confesses tears springing in his eyes.

“I miss you too, Jacky, but it's just eight days and you’ll be home. You’ll have four days without any game.” You say cheerfully, trying to ease the moment.

“I can’t sleep without you.” He says as he clutches the pillow to his chest, a single tear running down his cheek, dropping on the pillow.

“Jack you can, just pretend I’m here or something.” You let out a sigh, resting your face in your hands.

“It’s not helping,” he pouts childishly. “The pillow doesn’t smell like you.” y/n sighs closing her eyes. Sure, she misses him and it’s hard to sleep without him in the bed, but she knows how hard it’s for Jack to be apart from her. He’s been like this since university when they were going on short roadies. They always slept with Facetime on during the whole night. “Can I see you?”

“Sure, J,” you nod, waiting for him to turn on the camera. “Hey, my love.” A smile forms on your lips as soon as your eyes meet his.

“You are gorgeous,” he blurs out as soon as your face pops on his screen. “So fucking gorgeous, especially with the glasses on. You look sexy.”

“Thank you, J,” you giggle, your cheeks turning red at his compliment. “But I really need to work, so if you don’t mind I won’t be saying anything for another hour or so?” you cock your head to the side, watching his soft and relaxed features.

“Yeah, that’s okay, love. I’ll probably take a nap. We’re going to meet Quinn in like…” he looks behind his shoulder, searching for something. “Don't you know where my phone is?” he asks his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Love it’s next to you, we’re face-timing through it.” You laugh shaking your head at his…you don’t even know what.

“Oh, right,” he chuckles shaking his head. “Anyway we’re going to meet Quinn in like two hours for a brunch, so, I’ll just take a nap.” He rambles.

“Yeah, fine by me!”

After half an hour, when you’re almost done with your work, you look over at your phone, only to see your beautiful boy, clutching a pillow to his chest, a small smile resting on his lips as he mumbles something under his nose. You’re eyes grow softer at the sight of him.

If you were here with him, you’d probably run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, and reading a book or something while he’ll be napping.

You can’t help the smile growing when you hear him mumbling your name. The boy is your entire life. In a few days, you’ll be celebrating your year anniversary as a couple, and you can’t wait for it. You let your sweet boy sleep as you start finishing the work you have to do again.

When Jack wakes up with a big smile on his face, it even grows wider when sees his girl still at the same place, a focused look on her face as she types something on her computer. He snuggles more into the pillow he’s holding to his chest, a pillow he was pretending was a girl as he was sleeping for a few hours, and lets out a quiet sigh as he watches his beautiful girl working.

[ma1dita]

now that we're older

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.5k

summary: (established relationship) The one where he asks if you can stay the night even if all of cabin 11 makes fun of him. Luke is tired of the routine. He just needs his girl. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: its really something about me always posting at 4am.... listened to three songs on a loop while writing and they were all called ‘older’. 5sos-> gracie abrams-> lizzy mcalpine—this works for the trajectory of trouble & luke if you give it a listen; anyways you guys deserve the fluff. PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS HAPPY (ignore the...tinge of angst) BUT THIS IS HAPPY RIGHT? RIGHT? scream at me in the comments & enjoy <3

(posted 3/26/24, semi-edited)

—

Luke lets you love him in the nighttime. 

It’s not to say that you don’t love him every second of the day and then some, but he’s much softer at night, weathered down and stripped of the many roles he carries. Maybe it’s the weight from the responsibility of being an all-star cabin counselor or the bone-deep ache of being camp’s best swordsman, perhaps even the ailment of being Hermes’ favorite forgotten son—but he endures until the night where he can lay it all down and be nothing but yours. 

And you let him. 

The mask usually starts to fall apart during dinner when he comes to sit at your table— besides the extra space, Luke likes intentionally knocking his knees against yours, the hand not holding his fork squeezing the inside of your thigh. He’s more open and receptive to your doting by the time the sun sets, fiddling with the hem of your camp shirt on the walks to the bonfire, letting you hang off his arm as you sidestep each other’s feet, hip to hip in hushed giggles. Whether it be chatty campers running through attempts at kisses, Chiron and Mr. D accidentally interrupting your loving glances, or occasional interference from the gods above, there’s only so many ways to be together in the in-between.

Tonight he’s yawning as he places his head on yours from behind, the both of you watching all your campers file out towards the amphitheater. A gentle smile graces your face and he’s warm all over, arms caging around your chest as you lightly sway against the summer breeze.

“You okay, angelface?”

Humming in response, he lowers his cheek to yours and whispers a proposition.

“Wanna skip the bonfire? Like how we used to…”

Turning to face him, your nose bumps against the scar on his cheek, and he feels the teeth of your smile on his skin as you mumble, “That was before cabin 7 needed an understudy for special requests, babe.”

“You could still sing for me. I’ll even clap if you want,” he muses before warbling out a few off-key notes to your favorite song until you’re a mess of giggles under him, fingers reaching up to cover his lips.

“That’s terrible,” you say between fits of laughter, until your eyes meet Percy and Grover’s wandering ones, “Hey! You two ready for your quest tomorrow?” Luke’s hold on you falters into an afterthought, fingers playing with your belt loops as the boys walk to the center of the clearing to meet you two.

He thinks about his little sister going on a quest to prove herself to her mother, even if it’s not her own cross to bear. He thinks about the satyr risking his life to protect another demigod who follows in his footsteps, and finally his dark eyes land on the sandy-haired boy destined to get caught in the crossfire. Luke’s feet feel heavy as if they’re cemented to the ground, and when you step away to greet the boys, he stays where he is. You misinterpret it for his fatigue, which is only part of what’s weighing on his mind.

“Luke? Go on ahead, I’ll cover for you. Get some rest.” But he can’t sleep without you; the times he’s tried are met with a touch of darkness only you can will away. He wants to hold on to you for as long as he can— Luke’s always been more vulnerable in the nighttime, with or without you.

Later he finds himself staring at the ceiling of his cabin, thrashing in the twin bed against the back wall as he rests his eyes and tries to get comfortable. There are reminders of you wherever he looks, gauzy white curtains strung up around his bed like swirling clouds, pictures of the both of you pinned to the worn walls of Hermes’ refuge for the unclaimed, and though he’s always known his heritage—the way he can pick out your voice through the sound of all the others that file in reminds him who his heart belongs to. Luke shuts his eyes until he feels your lips on his forehead, balmy from your berry chapstick with a hint of your smile. He murmurs your name sleepily, but your hands tickle his torso as you lift the hem of his shirt up.

“Woah there, keep it PG. There are children here!” Travis says mockingly, and the sound of giggles and shuffling sheets fills the room as everyone gets ready for bed. There’s a resounding thud that follows and that makes him open his eyes.

“Mind out of the gutter, Stoll! You know your brother overheats at night,” you mutter, and his hands are already ghosting your hip in silent confirmation. Tearing your lavender gaze from Travis who’s spitting out feathers from across the way, you look down at him and mumble, “Sleepy, angelface? They’ll do cabin checks soon and then it’s lights out.” 

“Don’t wanna sleep without you. I can wait,” he slurs, saying your name slowly like he’s spelling it out. Luke looks at you blearily when he sits up, rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes as he pulls his shirt off from the nape of his neck. When the orange fibers lift from his vision, he sees you in sleepwear (all stolen from his closet, just the way he likes it) and your face shiny with skincare. 

“Was gonna get you ready for bed, babe. Got Lee to cover for me tonight and Beck and Katie are on morning shift. Wanna go to mine?”

He knows he should. The both of you never play hooky, not since taking up your counselor positions 3 years ago. Luke doesn’t remember the last time either of you were in bed before midnight and up before 6 the next morning. Never on purpose at least—the surprise jolts him awake a little as he cocks his head at you curiously. 

“Got off the hook, Trouble?”

The question makes you bite your lip, “You’re acting surprised. Something told me you needed it.” He flops back down on the worn mattress, far too soft with age that his back tweaks a little when he moves over for you and pats the space you’ll take up. It’s his though—even if it doesn’t have his name on it, and for once he just wants to sleep in here with his girl like everything is right in the world (and ignore that he’s about to tear it all up). He thinks he might actually miss this cabin, the sound of his scuffling siblings, the way things quickly disappear and reappear at the change of hands in this community of outcasts, but most of all, he’s going to miss you and how you can settle them down with a single hush.

“Can we stay here tonight? Too comfy. Never get to admire the little setup you made for me here since we’re in 12 so often.”

“M’not going anywhere, my love,” you whisper as you push back the curtains, climbing into his bed to cuddle against him, but he shifts so that his head is on your chest. Luke’s hugging you like he’s a weighted blanket, and he strings a garland of kisses along your collarbone leading up to the space over your heart. Running your hands through his hair, you sing to him quietly until lights out, not even noticing the change while you’re looking at each other eye to eye. No one laughs at your lullaby, the sound of your voice tucking the rest of the cabin to sleep.

Almost losing consciousness again, his cheek shakes with the giggle that rises from your chest as you whisper, “Didn’t know you put our camp prom photo up on your wall. We look like we hate each other.”

“You were so mad because I kept stepping on the bottom of your dress. Had to get your attention somehow,” he chuckles, before tightening his hold on you, “I knew I liked you already by then, too. Wasted too much time trying to get Chiron in a prom dress with the boys that I didn’t get the chance to ask you to dance.”

“Ended up on a bead though. Is that what that memory tells you, angelface?”

“You’re my favorite memory, Trouble,” he sighs, muscles relaxing at the feeling of your fingertips tracing stars into the planes of his back. Then hearts. A squiggle of something you tell him is obviously a centaur, which makes his brows furrow, before he kisses your chin when you spell out your name. Slowly, like you want him to remember it. He does.

“I’m still here, silly—pretty sure to be a memory, time has to take me away first. Not letting that happen. Me and you forever if I can help it,” you say breathily, voice tinged with sleep and so much love for him that feels like it chokes you, but that might just be the angle of your neck as you try to look down at him again. Dopamine lines your system at his words, and you let out a strained sigh—lovesick and heady with the feeling.

“I know but you’re in all my favorite ones too. When I think of you, everything’s better. Like I didn’t eternally fuck up my fate before I even turned 20,” he jokes, and like a lot of them, they fall flat. You hope that by wrapping your legs around him Luke will know how much you want to crawl into his skin and hold his heart to protect it. That with you, he won’t ever have to be alone. Words are never enough, after all. Even if you have nothing you need to prove, it won’t stop you from trying to show him.

“Still a few weeks off, so don’t try your luck. There are worse fates than falling in love with you, Luke Castellan.”

He turns from the wall at the sound of that, wanting to disagree, but you kiss him before he can protest.

“I’m the lucky one. Sometimes I think loving you was the only thing I did right,” he murmurs, before drifting off. You’re the last thing he looks at before he goes to sleep, the way he likes it—like a longstanding memory he gets to keep before he’s vulnerable again in his dreamstate. He’s the strongest when you’re with him, and his brain goes quiet. No one dares to break him when he’s with you like this. 

Not a dream, nor a titan.

You can't imagine sleeping another night without this crick in your neck with his name on it, the shape of him pressed into your body. With only the moon as your witness, you whisper words of devotion, sneak featherlight kisses wherever you can reach, and hope that they get to your love, wherever his mind is right now.

“I love you, I love you, I love you…”

—

You let him love you in the mornings.

Even unknowingly, it seems. On a normal day, your alarm would ring and you’d sleepily pat Luke (his face, chest, whatever part of him you could reach with your eyes closed) so he could shut it off. He’d let you sleep in a couple extra minutes (somewhere between 5-10) before pulling you from unconsciousness with a hug. 

This morning, with no alarms ringing in his ears Luke finds that he wakes up a little before you anyway. Down to his circadian rhythm, you’ve affected him, and he takes it with an upwards quirk of his lip as he squints at the sunlight through the sheer curtains that brush against your arms. He watches you delicately, even with the sounds of a lively morning filling the cabin—everyone up and ready for the day while you two are wrapped in your little bubble. It’s a stupid thought that crosses his mind, but a coherent one nonetheless; jealousy fills his chest at the sight of sunlight kissing every inch of your skin that he can only try to reach. He runs his hands from where they’re tucked underneath your waistband to the expanse of your back, and over your shoulders until you’re humming under your breath, midway out of a dream. 

Luke takes an extra moment to admire the way you latch onto him and he finds it almost frustrating how everyone from the gods above to the demigods at Camp Half-Blood down to the powers that damn him to Tartarus know you’re his biggest weakness. It’s almost unfair how you’re his strength too— the sheath that reminds him not to cut, the control behind his unbridled rage that heats up the back of his neck like a brand but instead of feeling fire, he feels sunlight.

You search for him in every sunrise, light refracting through your irises until a smile settles on your cheeks like you want to say, “Yes, I’m here with you. ” 

“Good morning, pretty girl.”

The both of you shifted during the night, almost as if in a dance of limbs and dreams, and somehow you’re nestled against his side and using his bicep as a pillow. It flexes as Luke raises his arm to brush the hair away from your face, when you kiss his scar and mumble, “Did we miss breakfast?”

“Almost over, but we can just grab something from the kitchens. Surprised everyone left us alone, actually,” he says thoughtfully, “the kids might’ve already left for their quest.” He likes watching you reorient yourself into the land of the living, before you step into your boots of being head counselor, before you put on the facade of being the perfect demigod—the protector and glue of Camp Half-Blood.

“Mmhm… was gonna offer my lighter to Percy and them last night for protection, but he was wearing your shoes. You gave them to him?”

Luke wipes drool from the side of your lip, watching you kiss his thumb in thanks with no thought as it was as easy as breathing. A half smile splits through the scar on his face as he says, “He’s gonna need them. For luck.” You lift your upper body up and look at him, hair forming a halo around your face and you sniff, “But you loved those shoes. Gift from your dad aside, I know they’re one of your prized possessions.”

He coaxes you back into his arms as he shifts up and leans against the wall. Prying eyes would think you’re hugging, sitting heart to heart on the small mattress.

“Annie didn’t take your lighter?”

He knows you’re rolling your eyes against his shoulder, feeling your fingers clutch at his curls to pull him away to look at you. You look at him knowingly and say, “Stop trying to change the subject. Anyways, Annie said if we help them anymore she’ll think we don’t trust them enough to come back alive.”  

“I mean it when I say you’re all I care about. Shoes… None of it matters.”

“What I care about is how you used to love flying around in those things. Even if you pissed me off a lot with them too,” you say, and the both of you laugh. They were a consolation from his dad after his quest, probably the closest thing to an apology (or even a “hello, glad you’re alive!”) he’d ever gotten from Hermes. Though the scar on his cheek was more than enough of a reminder of that—he didn’t touch the shoes until a few months after, when you taught him how to drive. Luke propositioned you promising to take you out on a spin once, and you thought he meant the car…

“You loved them more than I did,” he grins, and you recoil and slap his chest.

“You flung me onto the roof of the dining pavilion, Luke.”

“It was an accident! Plus it did make cabin checks go faster…Once I got the hang of them,” he snorts, deciding to pull you to stand. Batting away the curtain, he’s sliding into his slippers and Luke helps you step onto his feet and you groan into his chest, “What are you doing? M’gonna break your toes, Lu—”

“Shhh…I’m the strongest guy you know. Can handle anything for ya.”

He backs the both of you up to the center of the cabin, spinning you in slow circles to an imaginary beat. One hand around your waist and the other interlaced with yours as your smile feels like sun beaming through a window as you ask, “How did I ever get so lucky to fall in love with you, Luke Castellan?” 

You’ll never tell him, but that’s the only thing you’ll be ever grateful to Hermes for.

He shakes his head in astonishment as he whispers, “I love you, you know that?” It hurts his head if he thinks too hard—how does a love so intoxicating manifest as something so gentle? How can he be powered by your love but still fueled by hate? How can he be both damned and saved by you? Luke wonders if his thoughts even break the surface of how busy the mind of a daughter of Dionysus is—to know insanity in love, and still be able to welcome it with open arms.

“Beats prom, huh? Am I a good dance partner?” 

You tilt your head, tongue in cheek as you gaze at your boy like he’s said something stupid, and though it’s been a year and change, you hope the fluttery feeling Luke gives you will never go away. With him, you never have to pretend—never needing to mince your words or soften the blow. You’ve never felt more yourself than how you feel hand in hand with him.

“We’ve always been good partners, me and you.”

He sways you in the momentary quiet of cabin 11 as you step away and hold the bottom of your (his) shirt out like the frills of a skirt, and Luke raises your arm overhead and then you’re spinning, spinning, spinning…

The front door swivels open, and Chris peeks his head in.

“Hey lovebirds, sorry to interrupt but Sword and Shield is starting soon, and Clarisse still has your names on the roster…”

You both sigh.

“You signed up for offense?”

“And you signed up for defense, so don’t look at me like that, Trouble…”

Instantly the two of you harden your stances, parrying at each other’s torsos with hands as your swords until you try to make a run for it and drag Chris behind you to use him as a human shield.

“Hey! Oof—”

Moving as quick as a bullet, Luke accidentally knocks the wind out of his brother who’s now hunched over as you laugh at him like a madwoman.

“You two are going to have weirdly violent children one day,” Chris huffs, before stepping back towards the door, “See ya in 30!”

Cheeks reddening at his brother’s comment, Luke crosses his arms and takes a good look at you, bathing in the light of the open doorway and looking like the rest of his life.

“Well, back to work. Bit too good to be true, huh babe?”

“For now,” he says thoughtfully, “Summer will be over soon though. Gonna get quieter around here for sure…”

You’re already stepping off the front porch walking backwards as you grin, throwing your arms up in the air as you make your way across the path to your cabin to get ready for the day. You’d hate to leave camp—it's as true as your love for performing, caring for others, and most especially, him. He knows it because he knows you, and unlike most things, that’s never going to change.

Not if he can help it.

“Summer doesn’t last forever. But we’ll still have the fall, the winter, and whatever’s next…me and you.”

You’re yelling to him over the railing of your porch and he nods his head at you, turning away before you speak again, “Maybe one day when we’re older!”

“What was that baby?”

Looking at Luke like you already have it all planned out in your head, you say softer, “Kids. If that’s what’s in the cards for us. Though I do like practicing…”

Instantly he cracks up but nods, because there’s no future he can conceive without you being in it. There’s a serious turn in his response and it makes your heart beat out of your chest.

“Anything you want. You know I don’t leave anything up to fate. Not glory, not you.”

Everything you touch turns into gold, and he hopes somehow he would too. Two sides of the same coin, striving for a good ending, one worth remembering—one to last forever.

You get to love each other in the in-between, when time can’t get in the way. The clock is always ticking though, rattling against his brain as a reminder. 

Luke just wants to make sure there’ll come a day where there’ll be no more interruptions.

—

“When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. Oh, when you used to sing it to sleep.” Caitlyn Siehl

 ½ luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01@poppysrin@ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

[lowkeyrobin]

MINHO ; just like the rain

summary ; youre the rain to minhos storm clouds

warnings ; language, talk about mental health and self hate, mentions of death

track ; rain, sleep token

word count ; 874

masterlist

Minho was fairly reserved and didn't talk to many when he had the opportunity to. He'd lost friends, his memories, his life, coming to the Glade. He lost everything and for what, to run around a giant maze for the rest of his life? He was trapped in a cycle of sleep, eat, run, map, eat, and sleep, and he had been for years now. He felt worthless, and hated himself deep down. Thomas and Newt knew but didn't know how to help over his shrugging off of the situation. They decided if he needed to talk, he would if he wanted to or if he was ready.

But, upon your arrival, he found some sort of comfort in you. Your calm and friendly demeanor just had him spill himself one night at another Greenie bonfire. You listened to him talk for hours and gave him a whole motivational speech and reassured him he'd be alright.

And now, he could finally say that the viscous cycle of overworking and hating himself was over, and it had been since the first time you smiled at him.

You were the rain to his storm clouds.

Just like the rain, you cast the dust -his self hatred- into nothing. You washed the salt in his wounds from his hands.

You had your hooks in him, drawing him closer and closer each and everyday. He could see you in his dreams and in his fate, yet still deny the persistent questions from Newt and Thomas, and even Fry and Winston.

He went out of his way after spending hours in the map room just to talk to you and hear all about your day. Even the sound of your voice comforted him and sent a shiver, almost a tingling sensation, up his spine and into his brain.

He jogs to your side, wondering what you're up to at this hour at night. You snuck out in the middle of the night, wanting to feel the cold, wet rain against your skin for a bit. It wasn't pouring but it wasn't lightly sprinkling either, a fair amount of water soaking you.

His feet almost fall beneath him due to the mud under the grass, making him lightly gasp as he reaches out to you, now turning around as you heard him.

"Y/n!" He gasps, recalculating his footing to not fall.

You quickly reach your arm out for him and catch him at the forearm. You steadily help him back on his feet with a smile and chuckle while his face heats up from embarrassment.

"You good?" You ask, wiping away any stray rain around your eyes before it seeped in, not wanting to try and be bothered by it in the moment.

He nods, looking away for a moment. "What're you doing out here?"

You shrug, loosely hanging onto his wrist, not noticing, although he does. "Enjoying the rain"

"Why?"

"...It's nice, I guess. Makes me feel like there's hope outside the Glade"

He nods, seeing and feeling you drop his wrist. He slings an arm around your shoulder, a usual act of affection between you two.

You hear the rain pitter and patter against the Homestead as the force of the little raindrops increases. However, it’s soothing. You feel like you can stand here with Minho forever. He provided an odd comfort, even when silent, as just knowing he’s there beside you could rid you of any worries or fears.

"Are you not cold?" He asks, feeling goosebumps rise along his arms and legs.

You shake your head no with a shrug, "Why, are you?" You tease with a smile.

"No, no, no. Definitely not." He defensively speaks, playing into the joke as he retracts his arm from your shoulders and crosses them. His sassy personality was showing through even in the middle of the night. "I'm never cold, ever"

"I'd be really concerned if you were never cold, Minho. Maybe we should send a note down with the box asking about it" You speak, playing around with him. "Maybe we should stop hanging out. What if it's a contagious disease?"

"No, no, I mean, just get cold! Just like, not around you," He shrugs, taking back his last words.

"Oh?" You question, your lips curling into a smirk. "Around me?"

"I, uhm-"

"Hm?"

Before you can process what he's doing, Minho swiftly moves his hands to your jawline and smashes your lips together. You swear you hear a lightning strike as he does so, and rest your hands on his shoulders, not denying this new act of affection. You could get used to this.

You're the first to pull away, shocked and confused.

"Minho?"

He's silent, face burned up as he can't look at you.

"Min-"

"Don't talk about it"

You take a moment to think before patting him on the shoulder, turning back towards the Homestead.

"I'm going back to bed. Enjoy the rain"

He nods, crossing his arms again as he looks out towards the Deadheads again. He hears you slowly trudge off across the Glade, the squishing of the mud and wet grass below you drowning out as you walk further and further away.

"Damnit"

"Language!"

"How the hell did you just hear me?!"

[swiftsrqmantic]

Hi! Outer Banks request here:

Could you please write a JJ Maybank smut where the reader is John B's ex? One day JJ is at a party without the pogues and he's a little bored because there nothing really interesting going on, so he goes to the only familiar face he sees: the reader.

and it's their first time seeing each other after a looong time, and idk maybe the reader has like more confidence than before so they start to drink together (just a bit not enough to get drunk) and they ended up having like giggly sex.

make-outs & mai tai’s — j.m.

summary : you, john b’s ex, happen to run into jj maybank- john b’s best friend. will a couple of mai tai’s cause you to explore your deepest and dirtiest fantasies, or will you remember that “bro-code” does exist? 18+, smut,

pairing : jj maybank x fem!kook!reader

a/n : first of all, i’m horrible at writing summaries 😭 but second and most importantly, thank you so so much for being my first request!!! and my first story!!! i can’t wait to write so much more but for now, i hope you all enjoy this story!!! reblogs are greatly appreciated :) !!

you were a kook. he was a pogue. you lived on different sides of the island, and were never supposed to be seen with one another. that was until he showed up at your job for the third time asking for your phone number.

if you were to ask anyone, they would say you and john booker routledge were absolutely inseparable from that point on. the two of you were seen around the island almost every day; going on dates, hanging out at the beach, and all that fun stuff.

that was until john b meet sarah cameron, the kook princess. they began to hang out every day, which used to be a plot to get information about the royal merchant, until they shared a passionate kiss on the ferry dock.

although you two ended on good terms, you rarely spoke, which means you didn’t speak to any of the other pogues either; at least not until tonight, where you were going to attend the annual bonfire. you sat at your vanity applying your lip gloss when you got a text from your friend.

savannah: be there in ten!

you grabbed your purse and made your way to the white jeep pulling up to your doorstep.

“ready to get shit-faced tonight?”, savannah asked rolling down the passenger side window while you rolled your eyes and opened the door. “no one is getting shit-faced tonight, especially not you”, you replied buckling your seatbelt as she stepped on the gas.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

savannah pulled up to the lot as you put your phone in your purse and squinted at the bright fire that burned ahead. “ok so before we get out, some of the girls said that john b was gonna be here”, she said unbuckling her seatbelt and turning towards you.

“okay, whatever i guess”, you said chuckling and pulling your compact out of your bag to check your makeup one final time.

“so you’re not bothered by that? because if you want to leave then we can totally leave, your call.”

“we’re not enemies, savannah. we ended things on good terms, remember?’

“okay then, let’s get our party on!”

you stepped out of the car, scoping the scene, before making your way over to your other friend, emery, by the cooler. she greeted you with a warm hug and a canned mai tai while the three of you got lost in conversation.

meanwhile, on the other side of the fire, the pogues were drinking beer out of plastic cups, looking around at their rather drunk peers.

“ok, i’m gonna be honest and just say that this is seriously lame”, jj maybank announced to the crew and took the last swig of beer out of his cup. “you didn’t have to come you know”, an annoyed kiara replied. “but he is right jb, this is pretty lousy”.

“look, sarah’s here and there’s plenty of beer to last a couple more hours, so why don’t we at least try and have a good time”, john b replied as he threw his arm around kie. jj rolled his eyes and looked towards the cooler, when he saw you holding a can, laughing and talking to some other kooks. he smirked and made his way towards you as he saw your friends running off with topper.

“care for another mai tai, m’lady”, jj asked as you turned around, shocked at the sight in front of you.

“well, well, well”, you smiled, letting a tiny laugh escape from your lips. “if it isn’t jj maybank.”

“in the flesh”, he smiled, extending his arm out to hand you another can. “i noticed you were standing alone; thought i might give you some company”.

“well please accompany me somewhere more quiet”, you said laughing and taking a sip from your new can. jj smirked and said “come on, i have somewhere we can go”.

you took his hand as you guys walked down the lot towards the beach. “so, what brings you to this party”, you asked jj. “because if i’m being totally honest, i did not expect you to be here”.

“why not?”

“i don’t know, i just…i guess i thought that things like these weren’t really your scene.”

“they’re not.”

“then why’d you stick around?” you took another sip.

“i was going to leave” he paused, “but then i saw you.” you glanced over at him and smiled lightly while taking another sip.

“so, how’ve you been? it’s been a while y’know?”

“good, why’d you ask?”

“i don’t know, i’ve just been thinking about you lately.”

“aww, i’ve been on your mind, cupcake?”

you smiled and took another sip of your mai tai. “maybe just a little.”

jj laughed to himself as your feet hit the sand. “just a bit further”. you eventually found a nice spot on the sand and wobbly took a seat.

“woah there, pretty girl, don’t fall now.” you laughed, sipping your mai tai once more and looked him in his eyes. “why do you keep giving me all these nicknames?”, you ask, slurring your words and taking the last sip of your drink.

“do you want me to stop?”

“you could do anything you wanted to me and i would never ask you to stop,” you said with a chuckle as you moved a little closer to him.

“well someone’s feeling a little confident tonight, aren’t you?”

“oh c’mon j, somewhere deep down, i know you know i’ve always had a little thing for you.” and whether it was the mai tais or not, you know what they say: drunk words are sober thoughts. and with that being said, jj swiftly put his hand to your cheek, and pushed your hair behind your ear.

“did you really mean that?,” he caressed your cheek as you leaned in closer to him. “when you said i could do anything i wanted, and you would never ask me to stop?”.

“well we’re here now, aren’t we?”

jj stared at you, and as he opened his mouth to say something, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. while he was surprised, he moved both of his hands to your hips and kissed you deeper. both of you continued to deepen the kiss as jj took the reigns and laid you down on the sand.

“wait, wait, wait,” you said as jj kept kissing your neck. “what if john b finds out?” jj raised his head and thought for a second, that swift thought followed by: “well that’s not really his problem now, is it?”

“i guess not, pretty boy,” you pulled him down to you buy his collar as you continued kissing each other, more hunger and passion followed by each kiss. you unbuttoned his shirt while he started taking off your shirt. “lift your hips for me, baby,” jj asked, unbuttoning your shorts to follow. if you weren’t already drooling at sight of him, you were positive you were now. you tried to hold back your moans as he swiftly pulled your shorts and panties down your legs, but with how close the two of you were, jj was sure to pick up on every last sound you made.

“oh no, cupcake, don’t hold back now. i want to hear all your pretty sounds,” he kissed a trail down your body as he buried his head in between your thighs. you moaned and tugged his hair as he kissed your heat and licked up and down your sweet spot. your body began to convulse as you felt yourself reaching your release.

“j- fuck, i’m almost there,” you moaned out, not caring about your volume as your back arched in immense pleasure. “let go for me, sweet thing.” your breath hitched as you sucked in a sharp breath, allowing your eyes to roll back in pleasure, finally reaching your climax. you steadied your breathing while jj kissed his way back up to your mouth.

“that was…amazing,” you spoke, regaining your breath. “oh, we’re not done yet, baby girl,” jj replied with a shit-eating grin. “trust me,” you said, reaching down to unbuckle his belt, “i know.” jj let out a small chuckle as he released himself from his boxers, smirking at your reaction to his length. “mmph, i want you so bad,” you moaned out as you kissed him, a string of saliva attached to your lips as you broke free from each other.

“you sure about this, cupcake?,” jj asked, caressing your cheek. you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and kissed him once more. “i’m absolutely positive, j. i need you.” without a second thought, jj slid himself inside you, both of you moaning at the sensational feeling you just shared.

“geez princess, you feel so good,” jj moaned on your neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. you moaned as you gripped on to his shoulders, tapping twice to signal faster pace. as jj sped up, you could feel yourself tighten around him as he twitched inside of you.

“j, i’m close,” you whimpered as you felt him graze your g-spot, eyes rolling back at the glorious feeling.

“i know baby, me too, comin’ up right behind you,” jj replied, slurring his words. he sped up a bit more, making him more and more irresistible to you. your nails scratched down his back as you tried to utter out the words “i’m coming”, but instead were muffled by your pleasurous moans. jj pushed deeper inside you, following close behind. you two shared a breathy kiss while jj started to kiss down your neck, helping you get cleaned up. once the two of you regained composure, you sat up and watched the waves.

“that was… truly something,” you said sighing. jj looked over at you and chuckled, saying “trust me, i know.” you and jj watched the waves for a second before you both looked over to see the bonfire spot emptying.

“looks like everyone’s heading out,” you mentioned, while checking your phone to see two text messages from savannah. “shit, my friends are about to leave, i should probably go”.

“me too, me and the gang have an early surf sesh tomorrow,” jj mentioned while he stood up, extending his hand for you to grab as he pulled you off the sand. you two held hands and walked towards the bonfire, but you stopped him before you got to close to the crowd.

“hey thank you for tonight, i had a lot of fun,” you said swinging your interlocked hands back and forth as jj spotted his friends near the parking lot. you looked down as your feet as you said “it was nice getting to see you again. i probably won’t for a while.” jj laughed as he let go of your hand and grabbed your waist tightly, pulling you towards him. you choked on a breath as you abruptly placed your hands on his shoulders for support, looking deep into his eyes as he caressed your cheek. “you’re a very funny girl, you know that?”, jj questioned as your eyebrows tilted in confusion.

“you think after tonight i’m just gonna let you run off with some other guy?” you tried to tell him off but stuttered as he forced deeper eye contact between you two. “you’re mine now, cupcake. and if i have to see you every single day to remind you, best believe you’ll be seeing a lot of me.” you smirked as jj pulled you in for the last kiss of the night. “you have a good night,” he winked as he walked off towards his friends. you exhaled as you spun on your heels, walking to go find your friends.

little did you know that tonight would be the night you became jj’s girl. forever.

[perfctvelvet]

hiii, can i request something with Madison Beer?

Reputation; Madison Beer/Fem!Reader

Content: 2nd POV. College AU, kind of bimbo!reader, themes of slut-shaming (very brief), Madison and reader are roommates, teasing, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving).

Y/n.

A name that was known around campus and in the mouths of many people (and in more ways than one for some people).

You weren't sure when you amassed such a reputation, it seemed like it happened overnight, but you were well aware of what people thought of you. It wasn't necessarily a secret that some considered you a slut and even a bimbo in some cases. There were nasty rumors that you only made it to your senior year of college because you slept your way to better grades. What they say should bother you, but it just doesn't hurt as much as others would think. You go out, you party, and you have an occasional hook-up; nothing more, nothing less. Maybe someone just didn't like you and decided from that day on that you were the girl who will hook-up with anyone.

Madison prides herself on being non-judgemental, which is why she accepted your offer to be roommates in the college apartments for your senior year. You knew of her just as much as she knew of you, only in passing and through what others have said about each of you. She was a sweet girl, got good grades, dated the start football player, and is on the dance team. She was such a cliche and it surprised you that she didn't mind rooming with the "campus whore."

After a few emails going back and forth to get to know each other and one coffee date, it was time to move-in before the semester started. She grew to learn that you were quieter than people proclaimed, but nothing about your outfit screamed nice, quiet girl. Who decides to wear a short, pink dress to move-in into an apartment? At times she swore she could see your ass cheeks and that you weren't wearing any panties. You bopped around the apartment, so happy for a taste of responsibility and privacy that an apartment grants.

"Imagine the parties we could have here. We don't have to go to those nasty frat houses to have fun anymore!"

You were more concerned with the idea of an apartment party than unpacking your stuff. Madison felt a little awkward responding to you as you two weren't that close yet. However, she did like the idea of partying at the apartment compared to the frat houses. It would be much safer and calmer to have a few people over instead of those drug and alcohol fueled ragers. The fact that you two were on the same page about the type of parties you enjoyed more was surprising to her. In fact there was more common ground between the two of you than either expected.

"But, I'd rather stay in and hang out with my roomie anyway."

Madison doesn't know if you're flirting with her when you wink at her or if you're just like that. You've done something like that a few times before and it makes her brain short-circuit. Where people saw a bimbo, she saw a confident girl. Even after people talked shit about you, you still showed up to the places they would be like you didn't have a care in the world.

"So, what should we do for our first night together?"

Two white claws and one rom-com later, and Madison was feeling the buzz. She wasn't drunk, but she was half-way to tipsy and she felt so good. She was enjoying your company more than she expected. You two were clad in pajamas and face masks. After your last round of roommates were either rude to you or disgusting, Madison was a breath of fresh air. And she was really pretty to look at. Now that time was slowing down and you got a good look at her, she might be the most gorgeous girl on campus. It stirred something inside, that needed to have what you wanted. The last thing you want to do is scare her off though.

"You sure you don't want to go out tonight?" You ask, just to test the waters a little bit. "There's supposed to be a senior bonfire around 11 o'clock."

"I'm in no state to go out. Besides, I like being here with you and getting to know you."

She leans in a little to you and it feels like she's insinuating something. You could be seeing things a little hazy thanks to the drinks you had, but you of all people know what the look in Madison's eyes mean.

"I like getting to know you too. I like that you don't judge me."

"I'm not that kind of person.”

The softness of her voice, and the ghosting of her fingers against your thighs, gives the game away. She wants you.

"Can I ask you a question Madi," emphasis on the nickname

"Sure"

"Do you believe the rumors about me?'

"no"

"Would you change your mind if I told you I'm so fucking horny right now."

Madison is at a loss for words, but this is what she wanted. She smiles and leans into you before capturing your lips. Soon the movie on TV becomes forgotten and you two are making out. You expected that you would be the one to raise the temperature, but Madison was groping your tits before you could even touch her. She was popular, but you always viewed her as more reserved. Right now she’s groping you the same way a drunk frat boy would expect you to welcome her advances much more. 

“Can you spread your legs for me?”

Madison was on a little bit of a power trip when you began to respond to her so quickly. Your nightgown rides up as your legs part for her and you expose your pussy. She would never judge, but it was just amazing to her that she was able to crack you open without much effort. She rubbed small circles into your clit just to feel how wet you were and you were dripping. You were wet enough for her to slide not one, not two, but three fingers into your pussy.

“Fuck Madi!” You cried and bit into your bottom lip. You looked up at her while she stared at your pussy opening up to take her fingers.

You pull on the top of your gown to expose your tits. You grope them just like Madison did earlier but you also play with your hard nipples. You give them a squeeze when Madison’s fingers curl inside of you and hit your sweet spot. Her thumb presses into your sensitive clit and rubs into it while fingering you. With her other hand she grabs a hold of your face and makes you face her. She captures your lips again and your kiss is fueled with absolute lust. She was just having so much fun seeing how she could overwhelm you with desire. You let her use you despite not even knowing her personally for more than 24 hours. You wonder if this would be an everyday thing for you two; Madison pleasing you and wanting to see how true the rumors about you were. It excites you thinking about being used everyday in the privacy of your own apartment, you won’t need to go to another campus party again.

Madison felt like it would be impossible to pull her fingers out of your cunt. It was warm, wet, and kept pulling her fingers in deeper. If you feel good she can imagine just how good you taste as well. She reluctantly pulls out of you to be met with you whimpering at the emptiness. However you really felt the magic when she got between your legs and worked her tongue into your pussy. Her tongue was trained on your clit and every so often she would wrap her lips around the sensitive nub. You wanted to scream out so loud, but you weren’t sure how thick these apartment walls were. Instead you bit into your bottom lip and hummed while she ate your pussy. You were surprised by how into it she was but the taste of your arousal flowing onto her thumb was egging her on. She now understands why some of these boys on campus go crazy for you, but tasting you only made her want you for herself. Her boyfriend be damned, he would have to understand that Madison can’t keep her mouth off of her roommates pretty little cunt.

“I’m gonna cum Madi!”

Your voice sounds so sweet to her as you whimper and pant from the pleasure. You held onto the back of her head and buried her face deeper into your cunt. This was turning her on so much that Madison can’t help but shove her hands into her pants and finger her wet pussy. Your juices still remained on her fingers and mixed in her pussy with her own juices. Your legs were shaking from her skilled tongue dancing over your clit until you were cumming against her mouth. Madison didn’t care how loud your whimpers began to grow or that you were starting to become sensitive, she kept licking you out until she was satisfied and had enough. She cleaned up the juices running down your ass, savoring each drop.

When she pulls away she looks up at you and smirks. You lean down and your lips meet once again for the night. The taste of yourself on her lips is the hottest thing you’ve experienced in months, and you’ve tasted yourself plenty of times. You can’t help but wonder if Madison accepted your roommate request just to be able to have this from time to time.

“You should be used to this by now, but look how you’re shaking for me.”

Madison draws a line up your thigh with her finger. Her touch made you shiver and you swear you’ve never been like this for someone in your life. 

[petriwriting]

The Adventure Beyond. - JJ Maybank X Reader

A/N: A mini-series (Sort of) inspired by the Dad!JJ or Family man JJ fics i've been seeing. Also have been using an AI writing assistant to help with some grammar and hopefully to better the flow of my writing. I hope you enjoy. This is for everyone in need of JJ Fluff after season 4.

Summary: An epilogue of JJ's Story. His life is one huge adventure. Told in time-skips and memories.

The Outer Banks was always a place for wild memorable adventures—surfing, treasure hunts, and late-night bonfires with your friends. It was home. But this was a different kind of adventure, one that JJ Maybank never expected, yet found himself excited for in ways he couldn’t quite describe. It was the kind of adventure that lasted a lifetime.

You were sitting on the porch of Poguelandia, staring out at the ocean. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore usually calmed you, but today, your thoughts were far from peaceful. Cleo & Kie had gone to brunch together and Cleo and Pope were with John B enjoying an early morning surf. You were alone, except for JJ who had previously been sleeping on the couch. You hand found your head. You had been feeling nauseous for weeks now, but you brushed it off at first—chalked it up to stress or maybe something you ate. But now, with the test in your hand, the reality was clear.

You were pregnant.

Your heart raced as you thought about the next steps, the future, and how this would change everything. But more than anything, you wondered what JJ would think. He wasn’t exactly the "settling down" type, and you didn’t know how he’d react to the news. You had to tell him, but you didn’t know where to start. After uncovering his true parentage, JJ had been acting strangely whenever you mentioned marriage or family. He was insecure about the topic.

The sound of footsteps on the wooden deck behind pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up just in time to see JJ’s familiar figure walking toward you, his signature smirk plastered on his face. He was always so carefree, so full of life, but today, there was something different in the way he looked at you.

"Good mornin', Baby-girl." he said softly, his voice full of warmth as he took a seat beside you on the steps. His arm brushed against yours, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

"Hey," you replied, trying to sound casual, but your nerves were obvious. You felt the test in your pocket like it was a weight you couldn’t escape. You had no idea what he would say or how he'd react.

JJ noticed the change in your tone, the way you seemed distant, and his grin faltered just slightly. He placed his hand over yours, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand as he searched your eyes.

"What’s going on?" he asked, his voice softening. "You’ve been acting weird for a few days."

You took a deep breath, the test still weighing heavily in your pocket. This was it. There was no turning back now. It was now or never.

"JJ," you began, your voice shaky. "I need to tell you something. Something big."

JJ turned his body toward you, his gaze intense as he waited for you to continue. The wind picked up slightly, blowing strands of hair into your face. You pushed them behind your ear and swallowed hard.

"It might change everything." you giggle slightly nervously. "Hey, whoa, i'm right here," JJ reassured you.

"I’m… I’m pregnant."

The words felt like they were hanging in the air between you two, heavy with uncertainty. For a moment, JJ said nothing. He just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

"Pregnant?" he finally repeated, his voice low, almost like he was testing the word on his tongue.

"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "I just found out. I didn’t know how to—"

Before you could finish, JJ pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you like a lifeline. You froze for a second, stunned by the sudden closeness, but then you melted into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay," he murmured into your hair. "This is… This is crazy, but we’ll figure it out. We’re in this together."

You looked up at him, surprised by the calmness in his voice. JJ had always been a whirlwind, a guy who lived for the next thrill, but in this moment, he was steady. He was here for you.

"You’re not mad? Or, Or- upset?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper. You had been worried that he’d be overwhelmed, that he’d run like he always did when things got serious.

JJ shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Mad? No. Freaked out? Yeah, a little. But mad? Nah. This is big, but we can do this, Y/N. We’ve always figured things out before, haven’t we?"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, feeling a weight lift off your chest. JJ may not have been the most conventional guy, but he had a heart bigger than anyone gave him credit for. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

"We’ll be okay," you said, more to yourself than to him.

JJ pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, his face softening. "We will. And hey, I’m not exactly an expert on this whole parenting thing, but I’ll be there. I’ll be there for you and for this little one, no matter what." You stay stiff for a moment, glancing down at your hands and fidgeting for a moment before meeting his eyes again as he continues. "Baby Maybank is going to have the best aunts and uncles in the world, and-" JJ stops himself and his expression sobers up. "I know I want to do better than My dad or Luke ever could."

"JJ-..." Your heart swelled with emotion, and you couldn’t help but smile. "You mean that?"

"Yeah," he said with a confidence you hadn’t expected. "I do."

For the first time in a long while, JJ Maybank was serious. And you realized that even in the face of something that would change everything, you weren’t alone. You had each other. And maybe, just maybe, this would be the greatest adventure yet. It was only the start.

. . . .

It had been roughly 9 months or so since you told JJ about the baby, and while the news had initially thrown him for a loop, it was clear he was more than ready to take on fatherhood. He’d been there for every doctor’s appointment, every late-night craving, and every moment when you needed reassurance. And now, as your due date grew closer, you both found yourselves feeling the weight of what was about to happen.

It was a quiet evening when it started. You were sitting on the couch, your feet propped up, and JJ was next to you, watching some random show on TV. The sound of the waves outside was soothing, and for a moment, everything felt like it was in its right place.

Then, you felt it.

A sharp pain radiated through your lower abdomen, making you wince. You tried to ignore it, but then another one came, stronger this time. You winced in pain and groaned.

"Hey, are you okay?" JJ looked over, noticing the shift in your expression. His eyes narrowed as he sat up straighter. "Y/N?"

"I—" you gasped, clutching the edge of the couch. "I think it’s almost time."

JJ’s eyes went wide with realization. "No way. You’re… You’re sure?"

You nodded, trying to keep your breathing steady. "I’m sure. The contractions… they’re getting closer."

JJ leaped to his feet, looking around like he didn’t know where to start. "Right. Okay. I… I’m gonna go get the car! Wait here. Don’t move, okay?"

You grabbed his arm before he could go running off in a panic. "JJ, slow down. We’ve got time. Call the hospital first."

He took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself down. "Okay, okay. I’ve got this. I know what to do. You just breathe, alright?" He reassured. He had read that in a parenting book he had gotten, and he was suddenly trying to recall several books worth of information. He wanted to know exactly what to do to be the best dad he could, better than his own.

You smiled, despite the pain. "I’m not the one freaking out, J."

With his usual energetic (and slightly chaotic) demeanor, JJ grabbed his phone, calling the hospital to let them know you were on your way. Then, he hurried back to you, his face full of determination.

"Alright, baby. We’re going to get you there. Everything’s going to be fine." He kissed the top of your head and grabbed the bag you had packed weeks ago.

The drive to the hospital felt like the longest ride of your life, but JJ stayed calm, keeping up the reassuring chatter, telling you that you were doing great, that this was just the beginning of your new adventure together. The way he held your hand and squeezed it between contractions made you feel grounded, even as everything around you seemed to be moving too fast.

When you finally arrived, the nurses quickly whisked you into a room. JJ stayed right by your side the entire time, despite the chaos of doctors and medical staff running around. He even tried to joke with you between contractions, telling you that you were doing better than he would’ve expected.

"I’d probably be the one freaking out if I had to do this," he said with a grin. "But you? You’re amazing, Y/N."

The hours felt like a blur. The pain was intense, but JJ was right there, holding your hand, whispering words of encouragement, and reminding you that you were almost there. You were in such pain that your head threw back, and the last thing you remember of those seconds before was the ringing in your ear, the bright wash of cool white lights from the ceiling, the sweat on your forehead, and release.

And then, when it seemed like you couldn’t take any more, you finally heard it.

A cry. A tiny, beautiful cry.

You blinked through the tears in your eyes, your heart racing as the nurse placed the baby in your arms. JJ leaned in, his eyes wide with awe as he gazed at the tiny bundle being handed to you, the doctors cleaned the baby's eyes and nose.

"Look," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Our kid."

You looked down at the little one in your arms, the feeling of love and joy washing over you in a way you never thought possible. The baby’s small fingers curled around yours, and you felt a rush of emotions you couldn’t put into words.

JJ’s hand rested on your shoulder, his gaze never leaving the baby. "We did it," he whispered, the disbelief in his voice turning to wonder.

"Yeah, we did," you said softly, smiling as you looked up at him. "And I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else." he whispered.

JJ’s face softened, his usual carefree attitude replaced with a tenderness you’d never seen before. "You and me," he said quietly, as if making a promise. "We’ve got this. Together."

JJ reaches to hold his baby, and once she is in his arms, it becomes real. The baby let out another soft cry, and JJ, in his own awkward yet adorable way, gently rubbed the baby’s little back. "Hi Baby girl, It's your daddy..." he coos. "I love you so much already kiddo," he murmured, eyes glistening. "You’ve got the best parents in the world. and uh, No pressure, but you better be ready for the best adventures."

. . . .

A year had passed since you and JJ had welcomed your little one into the world. Life had changed in ways you never could’ve imagined. Parenthood had its challenges— sleepless nights, endless diapers, and adjusting to a new routine. But through it all, you and JJ had grown stronger, learning how to navigate this new chapter of life together.

One night, after the baby had finally fallen asleep in their crib, you and JJ found yourselves sitting on the porch again, just like you had when you first told him you were pregnant. The sky was painted with the colors of the setting sun orangey, peachy, faded into a deep sea color, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore adding a peaceful hum to the evening. The cicads just starting their song and the breeze settling in your hair.

"You know, I've been thinking," JJ said, his voice unusually quiet.

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "About what?"

He was staring at the horizon, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Us. Everything we’ve been through. The baby, our little family. And how much I love you. I don’t want to just talk about it forever, you know?"

You smiled, a warmth spreading through you. You had no idea where he was going with this, but you could feel your heart racing anyway.

"I love you too, JJ," you said, your voice soft. "I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life."

JJ took a deep breath, his usual cocky smirk fading into something much more serious. He turned to you, his eyes filled with that intensity you loved. "Then I want to make it official. I want you to be mine, always. I want to be your husband."

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. Did he just say what you thought he said?

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, opening it to reveal a simple, yet stunning ring. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a rush of emotions flood over you. JJ Maybank, the carefree, wild guy who never seemed to settle down, was asking you to marry him. There had been so many moments in the past when you doubted if he could ever truly commit to something like this. But here he was, asking you to be his forever.

You examined the ring, it was in a shiny velvet dark red box that was worn. The initials in a faded gold cursive 'LG'. It was something of his mothers'.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out for the ring, holding it in your hand. "Yes. Of course, yes," you whispered, your voice trembling with happiness.

JJ grinned, looking both relieved and ecstatic at the same time. He slid the ring onto your finger, and for a moment, it felt like time stood still. You leaned in, kissing him gently as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

"I promise, I’m going to love you every single day," he murmured against your lips.

. . . .

The weeks leading up to the wedding were a whirlwind of excitement. You and JJ had agreed on something small and intimate—just the two of you, the baby, and a few close friends. The thought of having a big, extravagant wedding didn’t feel right; it was about the two of you, your family, and this new life you were building together.

When the day finally arrived, you stood on the beach where you and JJ had shared so many of your first moments, the waves crashing gently behind you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you gazed out at the horizon, feeling the same nervous excitement you had felt when you were first pregnant, unsure of what the future held but knowing you were ready to face it together.

JJ stood at the end of the makeshift aisle, dressed in a simple yet handsome suit. His eyes never left you as you walked toward him, a grin spreading across his face. The moment you reached him, he took your hands in his, the same hands that had held yours through every high and low.

"You look perfect," he said, his voice full of awe.

"You clean up pretty well yourself," you teased, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.

The officiant, a close friend of yours both, non other than John Booker Routledge, smiled at the two of you. "We’re gathered here today to celebrate the love and commitment between these two people…"

But you hardly heard the rest of the ceremony. All that mattered in that moment was JJ—the way his hand gently squeezed yours, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you. The sea breeze, the smell of marsh and the glow of the sunset. You could feel the promise in the air, the certainty that this was where you were always meant to be.

When the officiant pronounced you both husband and wife, JJ didn’t hesitate. He pulled you into his arms, kissing you deeply, his heart and soul laid bare in that simple moment. The world around you faded away as you held each other, knowing that no matter what life threw at you, you were ready to face it together.

As you walked back down the aisle, hand in hand with your new husband, you couldn’t help but feel the overwhelming joy.

. . . .

It was a perfect summer day in the Outer Banks. The sun was high in the sky, casting its golden glow over the beach, and the ocean was calm, its waves gently lapping at the shore. You and JJ had taken your little one out for the day, and while you were content to lounge on the sand and soak up the sun, JJ had something else on his mind.

"Daddy!" Your daughter’s voice rang out, high-pitched with excitement as she splashed around near the water’s edge. "I want to go further! I want to swim like you!"

JJ grinned from ear to ear, watching his daughter run toward him with her tiny swimsuit bouncing as she ran. "You sure you're ready?" he asked, crouching down to her level.

"Yeah!" she exclaimed, her face full of determination and a little mischief, just like her father. "I want to be like you, Daddy! I want to swim in the big waves!"

JJ chuckled, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Alright, cupcake," he said with a wink. "Let’s start with the basics. You trust me?"

She nodded, her blue eyes wide with trust, mirroring his. It was clear that she adored her dad, and JJ, always the carefree and energetic guy, was more than happy to pass on his love of the water to his daughter.

"Okay, here’s the plan," JJ said, scooping her up and carrying her toward the water. "We’re gonna take it slow. First, we’ll just get your feet wet, then we’ll move on from there. Don’t worry, I’ve got you."

You smiled as you watched the two of them interact. You knew how much JJ had grown since becoming a father. The wild, unpredictable guy who once couldn’t sit still for more than a few minutes was now patiently teaching his daughter something as important as swimming, all while making her laugh, and cracking jokes to entertain both of you.

As JJ waded into the shallow water, holding his daughter carefully, he turned to her and said, "Okay, listen. The first thing you need to remember is to keep your head above the water. No matter what, keep your eyes on me, alright? I’ll be right here."

She nodded eagerly, gripping onto his neck as he gently waded deeper into the ocean, letting the water rise up to their waists. She giggled as the cool waves splashed over her legs. She was scared, but like her father she wouldn't admit it. That Maybank firceness.

"This is fun," she squealed, her voice high with excitement.

JJ smiled at her, his usual confident smirk turning softer. "I’m glad you think so. Now, ready for the next step?"

You could see his nerves underneath the surface, but he was determined to make this moment count. You knew he was a natural when it came to making people feel safe—especially his daughter—and you could see the bond between them growing with every moment.

"Okay, we’re gonna practice kicking," JJ explained. "You want to kick your legs like this," he demonstrated, giving her legs a gentle nudge to show her the motion. "Big, strong kicks, just like a dolphin."

His daughter laughed and kicked her legs, splashing water everywhere as she mimicked him. "Like this, Daddy?" she asked excitedly.

"Exactly like that!" JJ exclaimed. "You’re a natural, kiddo."

You watched as he continued to guide her through the motions, his voice calm and reassuring. "Good job. Now, let’s try floating on your back, alright?" he said, holding her securely in the water. "You’ve got to trust the water, trust that it’s going to hold you up."

She hesitated for a second, her tiny hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "But what if I fall, Daddy?" she asked, her voice small but brave.

JJ's face softened with understanding. He looked her in the eye, his hand gently smoothing back her wet hair. "You won’t fall. I’ve got you. I won’t let you go. You’re safe with me, okay?"

She looked up at him, her trust unwavering. "Okay, Daddy."

And just like that, she let go of her fears, leaning back into the water with JJ’s arms supporting her, guiding her to float. You could see the relief in her face as she finally relaxed, her tiny body gently bobbing in the water.

"There you go," JJ said, his voice full of pride. "You’re swimming, just like I knew you could. That's my girl."

. . . .

It was a warm Saturday afternoon when JJ came home from work, pushing through the front door. The moment he stepped inside, he noticed the scent of freshly baked cookies drifting through the house. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. No, it was the sound of his daughter’s giggles from upstairs—her voice light, teasing, and clearly way too excited about something.

He had taken a job that paid the bills, kept his family safe and fed. taken care of, even if he didn't really like it. an office job was boring, but he got to give his expertise on treasure hunting, and he worked with a lot of fun young archaeologists.

"Hey, kiddo, what’s going on?" JJ called out as he kicked off his shoes and made his way to the staircase.

Your daughter appeared at the top of the stairs, looking unusually... polished. Her hair was done in cute little braids, and she was wearing a floral dress you must’ve helped her pick out. JJ’s eyes narrowed as he gazed up at her.

"Dad!" she grinned down at him, clearly excited. "I’m going on my first date!"

JJ froze. He blinked, taking a moment for his brain to process what she just said. "Wait, what?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but the edge of disbelief was undeniable.

"Yep!" She bounced down the stairs, twirling around in her dress as if she were some grown-up at a fancy dinner. "His name’s Tyler. He’s from my history class, and he’s super nice."

JJ’s eyes widened, and he crossed his arms. "Hold up. Tyler? You’re going out with a guy named Tyler?" He shot a look at you, who was standing in the kitchen, trying (and failing) to hide a smile at JJ’s growing concern.

You stifled a laugh, seeing the protective father in action. "JJ, she’s just going on a date. Let her have fun."

JJ didn’t seem to hear you. Instead, his gaze stayed locked on his daughter. "How old is this Tyler?"

"He’s 17, Dad. Just a year older than me!" She said the last part like it was supposed to reassure him. But to JJ, that was exactly the problem. He had been that age once too. he could remember when he was all over you.

"Seventeen?" JJ muttered, his tone a mix of disbelief and concern. He wasn’t angry, but he was definitely... apprehensive. "I don’t care if he’s 25, you’re my little girl, Cupcake, and I—" He paused, trying to find the right words. "Are you sure about this?"

His daughter rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness behind her teasing. "Dad, I’m fine! He’s a good guy. You can trust me."

JJ stood up straight, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "Trust you? Of course, I trust you. But him?" He rubbed a hand through his hair, pacing for a second. "You’re my baby girl. What if he does something... something dumb?"

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of JJ—usually so calm and laid-back, now pacing like a lion in a cage. "JJ, she’s 16, not 5. She knows what she’s doing."

Your daughter crossed her arms, giving her dad a look that could only be described as an eye-roll combined with affection. "It’s not like I’m going to be out past midnight." she was just as sassy as he was.

You smiled softly, walking over to JJ and placing a hand on his arm to stop his pacing. "She’s going to be fine, love. It’s just a date, not a life-altering event. And you’ve raised her well—she knows what to look out for."

But JJ wasn’t entirely convinced. He turned to his daughter, his expression softening, though there was still a protective edge to his voice. "I want you to be safe. Text me when you get there, and when you leave, alright? And no funny business—no getting into cars with anyone, especially some dude named Tyler. Got it?"

His daughter snorted, clearly amused by his protectiveness, but she nodded. "Fine, fine, Dad. I’ll text you constantly so you can feel better."

"And no sneaking away or doing something crazy. You aren't some grown-up," JJ continued, his tone light, but there was no mistaking the worry behind his words.

"Got it," she said, shaking her head with a smile that screamed, “I love you, but you’re impossible.” JJ exhaled sharply, running his hand through his hair again. "And if you need me to come pick you up, for any reason, you call me. No questions asked."

"Dad, I’ll be fine," she reassured him again, now with an extra layer of affection in her voice. "Tyler’s cool, I swear." JJ’s face softened, his voice quieter. "I just... I just want to make sure you’re safe. That’s all. You’re my girl, and I love you more than anything."

You could see the softness in JJ’s expression, the deep affection for his daughter that made his words sound so heartfelt.

"Love you too, Dad," she said, hugging him tightly. "And I’m gonna be okay. Promise."

JJ hesitated for a second before hugging her back, lifting her up for a moment like she was still his little baby, even though she wasn’t. "Alright, alright. But if anything feels wrong, you come straight home, understood?"

"Understood," she replied with a smirk. "Can I go now?"

"One last thing." He ushers her to step forward, she shares his golden curls and has a few pieces astray that JJ pushes behind her ear in a loving way. "I just wanted to say that you look beautiful hun." JJ let her go, still looking a little too serious for your liking, but clearly trusting her judgment, even if he didn’t quite trust Tyler.

"Okay, but one last-last, thing," JJ added, running his hand through his hair again. "If he makes you uncomfortable at all, or if he’s not respectful—"

"Dad!" Your daughter groaned, cutting him off with a laugh. You chuckled as you watched JJ try to hold it together, clearly still struggling with the idea of his little girl dating. "Have fun, sweetie," you said, trying to ease the tension. "You’re going to be fine. Just be careful and enjoy yourself."

JJ watched her leave, his arms still crossed, eyes scanning the door long after she was gone. You could see the wheels turning in his head, but you knew it would take him a little while to relax completely.

As soon as the door closed behind her, JJ sighed deeply and flopped down onto the couch, running a hand over his face. "I swear, I’m going to need a drink after this."

You sat down beside him, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. "She’s growing up, JJ. But she’s strong, and she’s smart. She’s going to be okay."

JJ let out a long breath, resting his head back. "Yeah, I know. Just... give me a minute to breathe, okay?"

You laughed softly, kissing his cheek. "Of course. I’ll be right here. Don’t worry."

. . . .

It was a Saturday evening when JJ’s phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. He was at home with you, the two of you enjoying a rare quiet moment after a busy week. Your daughter had gone out earlier in the day, saying she was meeting some friends at the park for a “social event.” She’d been passionate about certain causes recently, always talking about how she wanted to make a difference. You and JJ had talked about it, of course—your daughter was growing into a young woman with strong ideals. Still, the way she talked about it all made you both a little nervous, especially when you didn’t always know exactly what she was getting into.

She was just as mischieveious as her father was at that age, but less reckless. The Protesting was something she had been talking to her Aunt Kie Kie about recently. she was passionate, firey and full of life.

JJ was just pouring a glass of orange juice when the ringing sound cut through the silence again, followed by the unmistakable sound of an incoming call. He glanced at the screen, his brows furrowing when he saw the caller ID.

"It's the police," JJ muttered, a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Y/N, ...something's wrong." You stood up immediately, your heart leaping into your throat as JJ answered the call, his voice tense. His free hand ran through his hair, clearly trying to maintain his cool. "What’s going on?" You held your breath as JJ’s face changed from concerned to something darker, more protective, as he listened to the person on the other end. Finally, after a long pause, he hung up, his face pale.

"JJ?" you asked, worry flooding your voice. He turned to you, his eyes wide. "It’s our daughter... She’s been arrested." Your heart dropped. "What? What happened?"

"They—she was protesting at a rally downtown," JJ explained, his voice shaking with barely contained anger. "It turned into a bigger protest, and things got out of hand. They arrested her for—" He stopped, shaking his head. "For disorderly conduct. Y/N, she’s in jail." Your daughter? Arrested? A thousand thoughts raced through your head. Your daughter, your sweet girl, had always been so passionate about causes she cared about, but you never imagined she’d get caught up in something like this. Your protective instincts kicked in, just as JJ’s had, but the question was: How did we get here?

Without another word, JJ grabbed his jacket and car keys. "Let’s go. We need to get her out of there." You nodded quickly, grabbing your purse and following him out the door. As you drove toward the police station, neither of you spoke much. There was nothing you could say to calm the growing sense of dread.

When you arrived, JJ wasted no time. He stormed inside with you following closely behind, his steps heavy with determination. The receptionist at the desk looked up with a weary expression as JJ slammed his palms onto the counter. "I’m here to get my daughter out. She’s been arrested. What do I need to do?" JJ demanded, his voice low but full of authority. The receptionist blinked but quickly typed something into the computer.

"Name?" she asked, clearly used to dealing with situations like this. "Maybank," JJ said, his voice not softening in the slightest.

After a brief exchange, the receptionist handed over some paperwork for JJ to fill out. The moment he finished, you both sat in a cramped waiting area, the silence between you only interrupted by the occasional footsteps echoing down the hall. JJ was vibrating with tension, his fingers tapping impatiently on his knee, his jaw clenched as he stared at the door leading to the holding cells.

"She’s gonna be okay, alright?" You asked quietly, even though you weren’t sure you believed the words yourself. JJ let out a breath, trying to calm himself. "I don’t know. I just… I never thought she’d be in a situation like this." He shook his head, frustration and fear clear in his eyes. "She was always so careful. Always so smart."

You could see his mind running through a dozen worst-case scenarios. He was terrified, and it broke your heart. You knew how fiercely protective he was of their daughter, how much he loved her.

"She’s strong, JJ," you said gently. "She’s been through tough things before. She’s a fighter. and she's just like you in that regard. She’ll be okay." Just as the words left your mouth, the door to the holding area opened, and a police officer appeared, followed by your daughter.

When JJ’s eyes locked on her, his breath hitched, and he shot up from his seat, rushing toward her. "Sweetheart," he said, his voice breaking, as he reached out to hold her. She looked tired, but she was alive and, more importantly, unharmed.

"Dad, I’m okay," she said softly, her eyes brimming with tears. "I didn’t mean for things to escalate like that. I just—"

JJ pulled her into a tight hug, his voice rough. "I don’t care what happened, baby girl. I’m just glad you’re okay. Don’t ever scare me like that again." You joined them, wrapping your arms around both of them. You could feel your daughter’s shoulders trembling, and you squeezed her tighter, knowing that she probably needed reassurance as much as JJ did.

"I'm so sorry, Mom, Dad," she whispered, her voice full of guilt. "I didn’t think it would go this far. It was supposed to be peaceful. I swear, I didn’t mean to get arrested."

JJ pulled back, his hands still on her shoulders as he looked at her. "I know you didn’t mean for this to happen, but you’ve got to be careful. You’re my little girl, and I don’t want you getting involved in something dangerous. You could’ve gotten hurt."

Your daughter nodded, tears slipping down her face. "I just wanted to make a difference. I thought this was the right thing to do. But… I don’t know anymore." You wiped away a tear from her cheek, your heart aching for her. "You are making a difference. But we need to make sure you’re safe while you do it, alright?"

JJ nodded, his voice much softer now, but still full of that protective fatherly instinct. "We’ll figure this out together, okay? But for now, we’re getting out of here. And next time—" He shook his head, unable to continue. He pulled her into another tight hug. "Next time, you text us first. No more surprises, okay?"

She nodded, her arms squeezing him tightly. "I promise, Dad." As you all walked out of the police station, JJ’s arm wrapped protectively around his daughter’s shoulders, the weight of the world still lingering on his shoulders. He hadn’t expected this moment to come so soon, but you knew that no matter what, he would always protect his daughter—just as fiercely as he loved her. Even if she reminded him of himself.

. . . .

You both sat on the porch once again, this time many many years in the future, graying and old. The cicadas still singing the same, the waves still lapping in the same old rhythm. The mosquitos out in full swing and the breeze tangling your silver hair. The moonlight is brisk.

You turn to the love of your life, the man who has been your everything since you were young once. You cut through the comfortable and loving silence finally. "JJ," you whisper. "Yes love?" His voice is now deeper, aged. It's raspy. "As our adventure comes to an end," you say. "I just want you to know that I love you." you say softly.

"I love you too." JJ says, "I wouldn't have wanted to have this life with anyone else. You are my everything." He smiles. You look out into the yard and remember all the highlights, highs lows and all, every moment up until now.

You gently rest your grayed head on his shoulder, the same as you did when you were young, and close your eyes.

[perfectlywrongformend3s]

I need you-Cole Walter

A/n: Well I might have fallen for yet another fictional character. So please be prepared for many with him. Now on to the story...

-Samantha

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cole's POV

I was sitting around my dining room table with my brothers due to getting in trouble at school. I was growing tired of sitting here not wanting to talk to Alex after he told the school how I bawled to mom and dad about when my football dreams ended, even though I didn't start any rumors about him. Danny was reading his lines, making everyone get annoyed. 

" Yeah, I'm with Isaac. Stop. And you guys, can you just, like, figure this out? Because, like this fight is affecting all of us now." Nathan said  

" Really? It seems like it's mainly affecting me, though, right?" I then moved my head to my eye. " You know, the one with the black eye?" I stated 

Which made all my brothers look over at me, I let out a sigh before saying,  " All right, fine, I didn't spread the rumor about you crying like a little bitch, I wish I had, of course cause you snitched me to Dad, but I didn't." 

" I didn't snitch." Alex said 

All I did was give him a look which made him sigh. " Okay. I should have said,"no" instead of nothing to Dad, but I didn't because of what you said about Jackie and Y/n at the bonfire." 

Which only got the rest of the talking, " What did you say about them at the bonfire?" Lee questioned 

" Yeah, I kind of wanna know too." Danny said 

" You guys, can we focus?" Nathan questioned 

" You know what, Alex? I forgive you for punching me. But I'm really sorry that you can't get over how jealous you are of me." I said 

He leaned up some more. " Jealous? Who could be jealous of someone who clearly peaked their sophomore year of high school?" He said 

I didn't even listen to the others. All I did was get up to go fight him again. " Come over and say that again?" I said only to get stopped by Danny.

" Maybe I will." Alex responded 

" Yo, Nathan, Guys, Nathan!" Lee shouted 

I immediately stopped and went down to him. " Mom! Somebody get Mom and Dad. Go!" I said panicking 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We were all in the waiting room. All I could do was stare at the wall in front of me. The doctor came which made me stand up along with everyone else, after he told us things Mom and Dad went with him while I sat back down. I pulled out my phone to call Jackie, but decided to call Y/n. I couldn't help, but feel super anxious while listening to the ringing. 

Your POV

I was finishing up some homework when my phone rang. I picked it up to find it was Cole. Even though I was still mad at him I answered because he normally never calls me. 

"Hello" I said 

All I heard was his sigh of relief. " Cole, you never call unless it's important." I said leaning back into my chair. 

" I'm in the hospital..." he started, but immediately got interrupted by me. " What! Are you okay?" I said panicking 

" It's Nathan...he had a seizure...and I'm scared." he replied 

I stood up rushing to my closet to put shoes on. " Is there anything you need?" I questioned with concern holding my phone to my ear with my shoulder while I slipped my shoes on. What I heard next made me feel butterflies. " I need you." he whispered with a voice crack

Which made my heart break. " I'm on my way, Cole. Hang in there okay." I said 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I quickly found a parking spot and rushed inside the hospital. I scanned the waiting room and quickly found the Walters. I ignored the other ones for right now, my main focus was Cole who was leaning forward on his knees. 

" Hey, come here." I softly said when I was close

He stood up and put his arms around my waist and pulled me into him. I gently drew circles on his back to calm him further. " I'm right here, I'm not leaving." I whispered 

Danny's POV

I looked up when I heard Y/n's soft voice. She completely ignored us and I'm pretty sure it wasn't on purpose. I just watched them hug when I heard Isaac questioned me, " I thought they weren't talking right now?" I sighed, " Yea, but it's Y/n. She would do anything for him even if she was mad." I explained while still watching them. I then heard more footsteps to find Mom and Dad again. 

"All right guys, um Nathan's going to be fine. He'll come back home tomorrow so why don't you guys head back home." Mom said 

Your POV

I pulled away from Cole to find Katherine and George. She looked surprise to see me. " Oh, Y/n I didn't know you came." She said

I walked up to them. " Sorry, this one called and I couldn't not show up." I said pointing to Cole. She nodded and pulled me into a hug. " Well, I'm glad you did. I swear he's always in a better mood when you're around." 

I smiled before pulling away then hugging George quickly. " Well if any of you want to ride with me I don't mind. I only saw Cole raise his hand a little. I nodded before giving the others quick hugs before heading out to take Cole back to the ranch house while Danny drove the rest. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We were about 10 minutes away from the ranch house. I glanced over at Cole in my passenger seat. " You doing okay, Cole." I whispered while moving my eyes back to the road.

" Yea, I'm sorry for what I said." he softly said 

I let out a shaky breath. " It's fine, you know I can't stay mad at you." 

" I..." I stopped him

" Let's just talk when you are more rested." I suggested 

He nodded, I then parked my car and waited for him to get out. " You know you can come in." he whispered 

" It's okay, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." I said leaning my head on the headrest. 

" But I want you to come in." he said softly 

I glanced over at him and felt bad for him. " Okay..." I whispered while I got out of my car after I shut it off. 

We both walked to the front door and walked into his house after he unlocked it. " You want to go lie down?" I whispered closing the door

He didn't answer. All he did was walk up the stairs. I followed him up the stairs, we then walked right into his shared room with Danny. I saw him just lie down. I sighed a little and went to pull his shoes off. " Hey you don't need too." he said sitting up

" No, it's fine. I don't mind." I said 

" Here, let me change and fine something for you." he said 

I stopped and watched as he got up to get clothes. He walked over to me with one of his shirts. "Here you can wear this." He said handing me the shirt. I smiled a little and moved to change in the bathroom. 

Once I was done I walked back to his room, to see him in bed already. " Come in." he whispered 

I smiled a little and climbed in. " You know, Cole. Your brother is going to be okay." I whispered to him

" How do you know?" he whispered back

I turned to face him. " Because Nathan is strong and he will not let this ruin him." I softly said 

He looked over at me with a slight smile. " Thank you, Y/n/n." 

" No, need to thank me. Get some rest." I whispered going deeper into the covers. He let his hand intertwine with mine before he fell asleep. I smiled before also going to sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay so I really hope you all like this one. I'm hoping it makes sense, I think it does but definitely let me know. Please enjoy!

-Samantha

[writing-until-i-drop]

What's In A Name? Chapter Two

Meg Harding and Kate Carter were inseparable until their friends died five ago, then she ran to New Orleans to save lives as a paramedic. But when Javi calls on his two oldest friends to help him collect data, counting on their matching natural instincts for tornadoes, Meg goes home for the first time in years. That's where she meets Tyler and the rest of the Wranglers, the YouTube storm chasers her dad likes to watch, and finds herself fitting in more with them than with Storm PAR. Meg only plans to stay for the week but will it be easy to leave when the dust settles?

If a certain cowboy has a say in it, nothing about leaving is going to be easy.

A/N: A failed tornado chase and a long night at the bonfire.

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

Welp. That had been a shit show. Kate had panicked before Meg and Javi could get the PAR on the ground, nearly driving off without them. Javi had been frustrated out of the gate but quickly realized just how pale their friend had gotten, the trauma clear in her eyes. Neither of them needed to ask what she had been thinking, it was clear as day that Kate had been reliving the EF-5 that had taken their friends.

Meg had been shaken being so close to a tornado again but she had come to terms with the situation a long time ago thanks both to her line of work as a paramedic and to the views on life and death in her adoptive home of New Orleans. 

By the time they pulled into the shitty motel they’d be staying in for the night, the parking lot was filled with chasers throwing a little party, drinking, smoking, and dancing. There were even a few bonfires going, which Meg was sure the owners of the motel loved. 

“Haven’t we stayed here before?” Javi asked as the trio strolled towards the motel, Meg scrunched her nose, trying to recall if they had stayed at this specific shitty motel before. 

“Yeah, Javi,” Kate chuckled, “We’ve stayed in every motel in Oklahoma.” The three of them laughed, they really had stayed in a lot of motels while chasing storms for Kate and Parveen’s research.

“Remember we used to have Addy check in?” Javi reminisced, “Then later, we’d all sneak into the room just so we could all save ten bucks?” Kate and Meg were nodding along to the memories and Kate slipped her hand into Meg’s intertwining their fingers like old times. “We’d have Addy do it because she just looked-”

“So sweet,” The trio said together, laughing.

“She was also a cover hog, Kate and I would always end up cuddled up together to stay warm.” Kate snorted,

“And Parveen’s snoring?” 

“Oh my god, not even industrial earplugs could block him out,” Javi added and they trailed off into a comfortable silence. “Hey, um, do you guys want to hang out later?” Javi asked and before Meg could agree, Kate was already shaking her head.

“We’re a little tired, Javi,” Kate spoke for the two of them like she always had. It didn’t bother Meg but she also wished that Kate was more open to having some fun after what they had been through that day. “Maybe another night?” Javi’s face fell but he recovered quickly, smiling at them.

“Yeah, alright, goodnight.”

“Night, Jav,” Meg hugged him tight, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Take a shower, you stink,” 

“Yet somehow you still smell fresh as a cow’s ass, Meg,” Javi teased, ruffling her already messy hair. Kate pulled her away from Javi towards their shared room, quietly humming a tune Meg didn’t recognize. “It’s good to have y’all back!”

“I’m not back,” Kate shook her head with a smile. Javi’s eyes landed on Meg who was grinning, shrugging,

“You’ve got a week to convince me, Jav.” That lit his face up like a kid on Christmas.

They were halfway up a set of stairs when Tyler’s voice stopped them.

“City Girl, Louisiana,” The rest of the Wranglers shouted in greeting. Seeing them up close and personal, Meg was reminded not only of her friends but of her family, the chasers who she had grown up around and it made her smile. This was why her dad and the crew liked watching the streams so much, they saw themselves in the Wranglers and now that’s all Meg could see. A fondness grew in her heart for them. “The cells to the west will choke each other out, they said. The one to the east will put on a show.” Boone had a shit-eating grin on his face, obviously drunk as he hung off the side of Tyler’s truck.

“Well, it didn’t throw you off the scent,” Kate bit out with fake amusement.

“Hey, that’s what makes Tyler famous,” Boone gestured to his friend, who flushed at the compliment, turning his attention back to the weather instrument he was fixing.

“On YouTube?” Kate teased sarcastically but Boone was too far gone to get the nuance of the situation.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. We’re on YouTube.” He looked towards the rest of the crew, “We got what? About a million subscribers now?” The Wranglers whooped in excitement.

“Yes, sir,” The one Meg recognized as Lily chimed in, focused on her drone. Ben, the reporter from earlier in the day, came closer with his little notepad.

“Um, Kate and Meg what? In case I mention you in the article I’m writing,” Kate physically pulled away from the situation, trying and failing to look relaxed.

“Um, just Kate’s fine.”

“Starts with an H if that helps, Ben,” Meg gave him a tight smile, unwilling to share her famous surname in a parking lot full of chasers. Ben dutifully noted the information.

“They’re tricky,” Tyler remarked. Boone took over again, leaning dangerously far off of the truck.

“Actually, you made a good call earlier. The other cell looked stronger but the cap never broke.”

“What’s a cap?” Ben looked painfully confused and Meg felt bad for him, being so out of his element. Dexter’s explanation didn’t help much so Meg added in,

“Think of it as a shield in the atmosphere that prevents a tornado from forming.” That’s how Preacher had explained it to her as a kid, she saw the lightbulb go off in Ben’s head as he scribbled it down. “Are you hurt, Ben?” The man touched his temple where there was a bit of dried blood,

“‘Tis but a flesh wound, my dear.” Meg rolled her eyes, dropping her backpack on the ground and hopping the railing, landing deftly on the ground with the Wranglers with her heavy medical bag on her shoulder. 

“Let the professional be the judge of that.” Meg knelt, digging out an alcohol wipe and a few bandages while the conversation flowed around them.

“Where did you guys all meet?” Kate asked, “Did you all study meteorology at U of A?” That got a laugh out of the rowdy group, none of whom had formally studied besides Tyler.

“This is going to burn for a second probably, alright, Sweetie?” Ben winced as she swiped away the dried blood. The wound wasn’t big, already scabbed over, so Meg put a regular bandaid on it, one of the bandaids she kept for kids with a smiling kitten on it. “Right as rain. Anyone else need a checkup?” 

“You a doctor?” Lily asked, both brows raised.

“Nah, just a paramedic but I can fix you up if something’s bothering you.” 

“Well, I hit my bicep on the camper door, I think you should kiss it better,” Dani said with a grin, teasing her. Meg rolled her eyes but happily crossed their set up to the impressively muscular woman. “Right here, Doc.” She flexed, pointing to a perfectly tan spot on her arm.

“I agree with your diagnosis, here,” Meg kissed the woman’s arm, “All better?” 

“Here hurts too,” She pointed at her cheek and Meg obliged. “Thanks, Doc. All better.” 

“I guarantee you, these guys have seen more tornadoes than anyone else on this lot combined.” 

“Not likely,” Meg snorted softly. Dani gave her a questioning look, “Not my first rodeo by a long shot, Sweet Thing.” 

“Really, do tell, Doc,” Meg shook her head, “I ain’t nearly drunk enough to start telling stories.”

“Dexter, get this fine-looking woman a beer,” Meg looked up at Kate who was shaking her head with an easy smile on her face, used to Meg making friends anywhere they went.

“Where are you chasing tomorrow?” Lily asked Kate, who looked like she was going to answer when Tyler interrupted her. Dexter dutifully handed Meg an unopened can of Budweiser.

“Oh no, no, no, not falling for that again. Kate’s from New York, you can’t trust a word she says.” Meg snorted, covering it up with a cough, thanking Dexter for the beer. Tyler must have never heard a New York accent before because Kate’s twang, as much as she tried to hide it, was so clearly southern.

“Well, you can always trust a guy who puts his face on a t-shirt,” Kate snarked with a grin, getting yet another laugh out of the Wranglers. “See you in the room, Mud Bug.” Kate shouldered Meg’s bag and headed up the stairs.

Dani pulled a folding chair out of the van and motioned for Meg to join them, Boone, who had been focused on Kate, joined them after a few seconds.

“You seem like a cool cat, Meg. Don’t tell me you got one of those fancy degrees too,” Meg shook her head, taking a sip of the cold beer with a sigh.

“Just a bachelor's in public health.” 

“So you were sniffing the dirt for fun?” Tyler called down from the top of his truck,

“Said I never studied, doesn’t mean I haven’t been around more twisters than in your wildest dreams,” Meg called back, getting a pat on the shoulder from Dani. “Here, Sweet Thing, my first tattoo,” She pointed to her bicep, where there was a large illustration of a tornado with Dorothy’s sensors flying in it.

“Shit, that’s cool, what’s in it?” 

“Y’all know about Dorothy?” Dexter perked up, spinning around,

“I do!”

“What’s Dorothy?” Ben asked, pen poised over his notebook again. Meg would have to text her mom about this, it would make her coo with laughter imagining her daughter enthralling a group of chasers and a reporter with stories about her and her husband’s old project.

“It revolutionized tornado data,” Dexter spoke excitedly.

“Yep, two Muskogee State PhDs and their team came up with the idea to send sensors up a tornado’s funnel, which recorded real-time data about the tornado. Allowing them to create a better early warning system.” 

“Bill and Jo Harding,” Dexter added, “They’re legends in the field.” Meg had a sneaking suspicion that Dexter would have a heart attack if he ever met her parents. “Can I see it?” He gestured to her arm and she held it out for him. Dexter snapped a photo of it with his phone with Meg’s permission.

“Seeing a twister suck up those sensors is a godly experience,” Meg teased, taking a long drink of her beer as she watched her words sink in.

“You’ve watched Dorothy be deployed?”

“Many times, like I said, not my first rodeo. Kate and Jav’s seen it too once or twice.” Boone’s face soured,

“What are you doing with that crowd anyway? Storm PAR ain’t great company to keep.” Meg filed that information away for a later date, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“I ain’t here to be with them, I’m here for Kate, who’s here to help out an old friend.” Boone seemed satisfied with that answer, 

“Shit, you got a lot of tattoos.” 

“This ain’t even all of them, Boonie Baby,” She realized her mistake as soon as the nickname left her mouth. Lily was the first to round on her,

“You watch our streams?” 

“I’ve seen a few minutes here and there, darlin’, enough to know who y’all are.” Tyler climbed down off of the truck, giving her an appraising look that had Meg turning pink. 

“I was right, Louisiana, you are a tricky one.” Meg rolled her eyes, “What’s so funny?” 

“Not from Louisiana, Arkansas,” Boone chuckled at his friend’s expense, patting him on the shoulder. “Take another guess.” 

“Texas?” 

“Say that again and I’ll slash your tires, Sweetie Pie,” Meg was a proud Sooners fan, her hatred for the Texas Longhorns running deep. Tyler barked out a laugh, shaking his head. 

“An Oklahoma girl then, I should’ve known.” Ben looked confused again, so Meg bailed him out, explaining the college football rivalry. “So, if this isn’t your first rodeo, what was?” 

“You always goin’ around askin’ girls what their first tornadoes were?” Meg teased,

“Only the pretty ones.” Meg’s blush deepened, “So, what was it, Oklahoma?” Meg finished her beer,

“Got anything stronger?” Boone happily fetched her another can, this time it was purple with a high APV rating on the bottom. He perched himself on the edge of the table Lily was working on, Tyler coming to stand at his side.

“My parents loved to chase a storm, any storm, and when I was five we were out to dinner when dad realized something big was about to break. So, they threw me in the car, and off we went. It came down right in front of us, maybe a hundred yards down the road. We were stupid close to an F-3,” 

“EF-3, you mean?” Tyler tried to correct her, eyes widening when she shook her head.

“This was 2001, Sweetie Pie, now hush, I’m telling a story.” 

“Yeah, Ty, hush,” Dani huffed. Meg took great pleasure in Tyler’s blush and the way he looked away from the group to hide it.

“It was beautiful, watching it uproot the trees along the road, eating everything in its path. I tried to get my mom to open up the sunroof so I could climb out and see it better.” 

“You weren’t scared?” Ben asked, writing notes. Meg had never been scared of a tornado in her life, something her parents accused each other of teaching her. Not even after the incident, she respected them and the damage they could do of course.

Mother Nature was not someone she wanted to mess with but she had always just found the storms to be chaotic, wild, and absolutely thrilling. Being scared of dying was another question, one she hadn’t been asked and wasn’t going to answer. Her wrist started to ache and Meg switched the hand holding her drink.

“You know when you see a lion at the zoo? It’s kind of like that, you know it’s a killing machine and could and would rip you to shreds without breaking a sweat but you also can’t help but admire how majestic and beautiful it is.” 

“God, look at his face,” Lily scoffed, looking at Tyler. Meg glanced his way and found him staring back at her with a look she couldn’t read but one of his friends seemed to understand.

“But you’re a paramedic, not a chaser?” Ben prompted, drawing her attention away from the cowboy.

“That’s right, storms are the love of my life but helping people, that’s what I’m good at. But enough about me, who else has some stories? Laissez les bons temps rouler!” 

“Hell yeah!” Boone tapped his can to hers, “I like you!”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @theforevermorereject @beltzboys2015-blog @writingrose @sinners-98-world @nerdgirljen @candlejuice

Want to join the taglist? Just ask!

[redroses07]

JJ Maybank Dating HCS // SFW + NSFW

A/N: Hey guys!! This is just a collection of my thoughts on what I think dating JJ would be like! Sorry if any are a little too cheesy. I can make a part two if you guys want, and maybe a Rafe version upon request. Anyways hope y'all enjoy! Love u guys! ♡⋆˙

SFW

Literally the sweetest boyfriend you could ever ask for, he has a temper but would never ever hurt you.

You are literally his everything, like when I tell you this man worships you. No matter what he is doing, if you need him he will be there.

One time he was hanging out with Pope and John B, and you called him crying. There wasn't a car nearby and he didn't want to waste time looking for one, so he no joke ran to your house. It wasn't far, but it was far enough for him to nearly collapse at your doorstep when he arrived.

"JJ, are you alright?"

"Mhm- now that m' with you baby."

I feel like whenever y'all are going out he would act all silly and say something like "Your carriage awaits m'lady" in a fake British accent when he picks you up. Then he'd kiss your hand and open the car door for you.

I think his love language is either physical touch or gift giving.

He's definitely a PDA person, like he's always got his arm around you when you're with your friends.

Sometimes he takes it a little overboard and Kie tells his that the two of you are disgusting.

"JJ stop stop." You giggled as JJ peppered kisses down your neck in front of the bonfire.

"Oh my God, just get a room already." Kie snapped.

"Oh shut up you're just jealous!" JJ says.

JJ knows he doesn't always have money to buy you things but that doesn't stop him from still giving you the most thoughtful gifts.

Once he found a patch of wild flowers, picked as many as he could hold in his hands, tied a ribbon around them, and gave them to you.

You of course loved them, and gave him the biggest hug.

SPEAKING OF HUGS!!!! JJ is totally the type to sneak up behind you and attack you with a hug.

This happens so often that you would think you'd learn to see it coming, but somehow he always manages to surprise you.

You squeal as JJ aggressively wraps his arms around your waist, smothering your face in kisses.

He's also the WORST about picking you up and throwing you in the water.

"JJ it's cold!!" you squealed in protest as he threw you over his shoulder.

"Oh well that's too bad!!" JJ cackled as he threw you off the pier into the icy water.

NSFW

HIS RINGS. This is probably weird but I don't think JJ takes his rings off when he fingers you. And I know DAMN WELL that cold metal feels so good.

I am a firm believer that JJ is a little munch. He loves loves loves to eat you out, especially when he's high. He's surprisingly good at it too, and definitely gets pussy drunk.

I just know that JJ could be super submissive at times, especially when he's had a long day.

When he comes home after a stressful day he wants nothing more than for you to relieve that stress.

"I need you right now baby, can you please take care of me." JJ whines. tugging at your clothes.

"Whatever you want, my pretty boy." You say, climbing on top of him.

I feel like JJ has a thing for doing it outside. Like whether it's on the beach, on his boat, or just straight up in the ocean.

You two cannot go to the beach alone at night without it ending with your clothes discarded off to the side.

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

FADING AWAY-RAFE CAMERON

Y/N had always known that her relationship with Rafe wasn’t going to be easy. She knew the risks, how different they were, how their worlds never quite meshed, how people whispered behind their backs, judging them for even being in the same room. Rafe was a Kook, born into privilege and wrapped in a world of wealth and expectations. She was a Pogue, barely scraping by, fighting for every little piece of freedom and respect she could get.

And yet, despite the glaring differences, Y/N had believed in them. She believed in the way his eyes softened when he looked at her, in the way his touch felt like home, in the way their conversations lasted late into the night, and how every laugh shared between them felt like a secret just for the two of them. There was something there. Something real. At least, that’s what she told herself.

But lately, things had changed.

The moments of tenderness were becoming fewer and farther between. Where once Rafe had sought her out, now he barely looked at her. Where he had once reached for her hand in the middle of a crowded room, now he seemed to avoid her touch. His calls became infrequent, his texts dry and detached. The way he would glance at her when they were together, cold, distant, almost like she was a stranger, cut through her chest with every passing day.

It wasn’t just the absence of affection that stung; it was the silence. The silence that had become so heavy between them. The unspoken words that used to be so easy to say now seemed impossible to express.

Y/N had tried to ignore it at first, telling herself it was just a phase, that maybe he was dealing with something. After all, Rafe Cameron was always wrapped up in some kind of chaos, always struggling with his own demons. Maybe he was tired, maybe he had too much going on with his family, maybe he just needed space. She tried to convince herself that it was nothing. But deep down, the gnawing doubt in her chest kept growing.

She didn’t know how long she could pretend.

The tipping point came one evening, a night that felt just like all the others, except that it was the first time Y/N realized how much he had really slipped away.

They were sitting at a bonfire on the beach, surrounded by the usual crew, Kiara, JJ, Pope, and a few others who had come to let off some steam after a long week. Everyone was laughing, talking, passing around drinks, but Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of isolation. She kept glancing over at Rafe, who was sitting with a group of his Kook friends, laughing, his head thrown back, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

He had barely looked in her direction all night. The way he was engrossed in his conversation with them, the way he had kept his distance from her, stung more than it should have. They were always surrounded by people, but it used to be different. She used to be able to find him in a crowd, to catch his eye, to share a smile, a laugh. Now, it was like she was invisible.

She stood up, the warm sand beneath her feet doing little to ground her as she walked toward the group. As she approached Rafe, he didn’t look up right away, didn’t seem to notice her presence until she was standing directly in front of him.

“Hey,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

He glanced up, his eyes dull and distant. For a moment, it felt like he didn’t even recognize her. Then his lips curled into that lazy, indifferent smile, the same one he wore when he didn’t really care about anything, or anyone.

“Hey,” he replied, his tone flat.

Y/N’s heart sank, but she forced herself to keep it together. “You’ve been kind of distant lately,” she said, her voice softer than she intended. “Is everything okay?”

Rafe took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke as if he didn’t even hear her question. “I’m fine.”

That was it. No concern. No acknowledgment. No tenderness.

She wanted to believe him. She really did. But the truth was glaring at her now. The coldness in his voice, the indifference in his eyes, it wasn’t the Rafe she had known. This wasn’t the boy who once pulled her close, who held her like she was the only thing that mattered in a world of chaos. This wasn’t the Rafe who had shared his dreams with her, who had whispered that he couldn’t imagine a future without her in it. This was someone else.

“I miss you, Rafe,” she said quietly, her heart raw.

He didn’t meet her eyes, instead looking over her shoulder like he was searching for someone else. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N. Things are different now.”

The words hit her like a slap, cold and harsh. Things were different now. And deep down, she knew that meant everything had changed, that maybe they had always been on borrowed time. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it. She couldn’t bring herself to admit that maybe, just maybe, he had never felt the same way she did, that maybe she had been living in a fantasy all along.

His friends, oblivious to the moment unfolding, continued to laugh, their voices rising above the crackling fire. But all Y/N could hear was the hollow sound of her own heart breaking.

“Okay,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Okay, Rafe. If you need space, I get it. But this…this isn’t working for me.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he reached into his pocket for another cigarette, lighting it without a word. The silence between them stretched on, heavier than the night air.

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat thick with unshed tears. She wanted to scream, to shake him, to force him to see her. But she knew it was pointless. She had been fighting for this, fighting for him, for so long, and now, it felt like she was losing.

With a final, aching glance at him, Y/N turned and walked away. The sound of her footsteps was muffled by the crashing waves, but the weight in her chest felt louder than ever. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she had to get away. She needed to breathe, needed to escape the suffocating feeling that she was disappearing right before her own eyes.

She had tried to hold on. She had tried to convince herself that love was enough, that the two of them could overcome their differences, that Rafe was just lost in his own world and would come back to her. But she couldn’t keep pretending anymore. She couldn’t keep chasing someone who had already pulled away.

By the time she reached the pier, her tears had already started to fall. She stood at the edge, staring out at the endless ocean, the weight of everything crashing down on her. The sound of the waves, the cold air against her skin, it was all so empty, just like the space Rafe had left in her life.

“Did I ever mean anything to you?” she whispered to the wind, her voice breaking. “Or was I just another girl to use and forget?”

There was no answer. Just the sound of the ocean, endless and indifferent.

And in that moment, Y/N realized something that cut deeper than any of the lies, any of the broken promises. She had never been the one to fade away. It was always him, always his indifference, his neglect, his coldness.

And now, it was too late to fix it.

𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 @nicholaschavezslut69

[fanfics4all]

Summer Fling

Request: Yes / No  Hi, I'm a new follower so I don't know if you accept requests, but I've been OBSESSED with Sweet pea. Unfortunately my Riverdale phase came back, since then I've been creating imagine scenarios with Sweet Pea, well, more specifically, Sweet Pea having a "summer fling" with a reader who has the appearance and personality of Liv Rooney and was super friends with Betty or Cheryl (and it would be as if Josie didn't exist or had never been involved with Sweet Pea but the reader) Anon

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Sweet Pea x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 776

Warnings: Nothing really, sad ending I suppose?

Y/N: Your Name 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee! 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

The summer in Riverdale was supposed to be ordinary. Lazy afternoons with Betty, trips to Pop’s, and avoiding the Southside drama that always seemed to creep into the picture. I hadn’t expected it to be anything more than just a short break before heading back to my life in the city, but then I met Sweet Pea. 

It started at one of Cheryl’s infamous bonfires. Betty had convinced me to come, saying it would be ‘fun and totally safe.’. I wasn’t so sure about the safe part, especially when I spotted the Serpents hanging around the edges of the firelight, their leather jackets catching the glow like something out of a movie. Sweet Pea was with them, leaning casually against his bike, arms crossed, and smile tugging at his lips. I saw him around before, mostly in the background of Betty’s stories about Riverdale’s chaos, but we never talked. That night though, he noticed me. When our eyes met, this spark, a flicker of curiosity in his dark gaze, made my heart skip a beat. 

“You don’t look like you’re from around here.” He said when he finally approached me. His voice was low and teasing. I raised a brow, trying not to let his intense stare throw me off. 

“And you don’t look like you talk to girls who aren’t from around here.” I shot back, folding my arms. To my surprise, he laughed, a genuine sound that made the butterflies in my stomach stir. 

“Fair enough.” He said, holding his hand out. 

“Names Sweet Pea.” 

“Y/N.” I replied, shaking his hand and feeling the warmth of his touch linger a little longer than it should have. 

That was the beginning of it all. Sweet Pea wasn’t like the guys I usually hung around. He was bold, a little rough around the edges, and completely different from what I expected. But there was also a softness to him, hidden beneath his Sperpent persona and the smirks, I couldn’t help but be drawn to it. Our ‘fling’ started with stolen moments, late-night drives on his bike, secret meetings at Sweetwater River, and whispered conversations under the stars. He showed me a side of Riverdale I’ve never seen before, the hidden beauty in the chaos, and I showed him that there was more to life than just surviving. 

One night, we snuck into the movie theater after hours and shared a thing of popcorn he had somehow managed to swipe from the concession stand. 

“So, what’s a girl like you doing in a town like this?” He asked, his tone playful. 

“Visiting my Grandma.” I smiled. 

“And maybe having the time of my life with a guy who’s way cooler than he lets on.” Sweets raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer. 

“Cooler than I let on? You sure about that?” I laughed, pushing him lightly. 

“Don’t let it go to your head.” He smiled, a soft genuine smile that made my heart race. 

“You’re different, Y/N, in a good way.” 

“Good different?” I teased, though my voice was soft. 

“The best kind.” He whispered, his gaze locking with mine. 

As much as I tried to keep things light, I couldn’t help but feel something deeper growing between us. But we both knew it couldn’t last. I was only in Riverdale for the summer and Sweet Pea’s world was here, tangled up in the Sperpents and everything that came with that. 

The night before I left, we met by the river, sitting on a blanket as the water glimmered under the moonlight. Neither of us said much, the weight of the inevitable hanging between us. Finally, Sweet Pea turned to me, his expression serious. 

“I wish you didn’t have to go…” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. I swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

“Me too, but we knew this wasn’t forever.” 

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.” He muttered, his jaw clenching. I reached out, taking his hand in mine. 

“This summer… it meant everything to me, Sweets. You mean everything to me.” He looked at me, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite place. Sadness, hope, maybe even love? 

“You’re not going to forget me, are you?” 

“Never.” I promised, leaning in and pressing my forehead against his. 

“And you better not forget me either.” He pulled me into a kiss, slow and lingering. It was like he was trying to hold onto the moment as long as he could. When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine, his hand cradling my face. 

“Goodbye, Y/N.” He whispered. 

“Goodbye, Sweet Pea.” I said, my voice breaking.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1  @emo-godess-loves-you @hiya-imthatgirl @mindsetjupiter @averysinclaire @mittelerde1999 @sweetest-peas @rousewriter @camiconfessions-blog @thecaptainsgingersnap @cenyddtheunicorn @jacksxsouthsideserpents @lover2448 @mamacobie13  @staygoldsquatchling02 @wanderlust-and-poetry @hiighdeex3 @ayeitsjaz @skeletalwolfcat @scarrasco1325 @reblogserpent @darkestbeforethedawn16 @fandom-princess-forevermore @will-noble-owns-my-ass @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @madebyleftovermuses @liz-owl

[vamphorica]

ashes to ashes, dust to dust

i wrote a very short fic inspired by @iheartmello 's absolutely wonderful birthday piece for mello. it really inspired me, thank you so much Rudy for creating it ♡

just be warned that i very much return to my roots in horror writing with this one, so it is quite intense. aside from that, enjoy!

read below (683 words) ⬎

You are holding the hand of a stranger. You ought to recognise him really, he is you, but at the age of ten years old, you perceive him only in that hazy apparition in which all adults fall into. A man who does not smile, or speak to you, but clings onto your hand with a force that makes you wince. You wonder if he is lonely, so you tolerate the discomfort in the hope that maybe it will make him feel better, his desire to possess you like a spirit. To be exorcised of his embrace might hurt him, and there is something of the sadness that lingers in his expression that you feel responsible for. 

Looking around, there is nothing else to be seen in this endless void in which the two of you stand. You are at an age where someone is always present to explain life’s mysteries, to satiate your ever growing curiosity about the world, but there is a distinct loss of that guidance here. You can hear your heartbeat in the centre of your mind, a throbbing anxiety that claws away with questions you feel too overwhelmed to ask. In fact, the very thought of trying to converse with the one beside you has not even occurred, and as you meet his gaze – he is looking at you too – you wonder if you ought to say something. Anything. 

Before you can open your mouth, to eject words that could resemble a sentence, the stench of burning hits you. Your only experience with such an odour has been contained. A bonfire erected on Guy Fawkes night, the small flame of a lighter you once found on the pavement, an unfortunate attempt at baking a cake for a birthday. The scent, unpleasant, posed no real threat, but there is something rather more dangerous in the unrelentless harshness of what now emanates here. 

You watch as the man aside you becomes consumed by flames.

It is so without warning that you cannot conceptualise what you witness. The blaze is blinding, your eyes watering in the close proximity, and the heat is close to unbearable. A cold sweat breaks out on the back of your neck and you hear yourself screaming but you know you aren’t, that it is the intense pressure building up in your head that screeches at the horror of flesh set alight.

Paralysed, you cannot pull away from the tight grip with which the man holds onto you, even if you had thought to do so. His stare is so intense, even as the flames crawl up onto his face, charring his pale skin to a nauseating redness turned black within an instant. He is calm. No slight indication in his expression suggests even discomfort, much less the pain of being burnt alive. He is disintegrating before your eyes, as the crackling sound evident of cremation tears through that silence between the two of you. It is only a single tear that threatens his demeanour and even then, it does not fall.

The fire only grows, a creature so furious in its intent to destroy that the very havoc it enkindles encourages its aggression. It will reach you too, eventually, if the dense smoke that arises from its wrath doesn’t suffocate you first. You already feel like you have lost the ability to breathe, as if your lungs have collapsed against your ribcage under the pressure of keeping you alive. You are fucking scared, and you still have no idea what any of this means, only that you are watching the death of a man who you believe you ought to have saved, somehow. You are just a child, how are you meant to do such a thing?

The stranger’s hand suddenly pulls back from your own, as you stagger backwards, a ragged gasp now pulled sharply within. His outstretched palm, decorated by a small bracelet with a silver cross charm that hangs from his wrist, is the last thing you see before the flames reclaim it, condemning it to the fate of nothing more than ash.

[gretavanbear]

Behind The Steel

[a/n : h...hi..... i haven't posted in so long. i hope u guys enjoy this lil thing i wrote. i definitely want to do a part two at some point.]

His bike was always his most prized possession, the way he felt when riding it was an incomparable feeling. The first time he rode it was a life changing moment for him- the wind drifting through his hair, the roar of the engine. It was pure animalistic adrenaline that coursed through his veins; wanting to make her roar like he did was extremely exciting. Nothing could amount to how powerful he felt in the cage, feeling weightless and full of control. 

His best friend initially helped him build it, making it extremely safe to be in and ride around as crazy as he can get. knowing his biker friends, sometimes it really could get crazy in there. 

It became somewhat of a ritual to have cage meets at his house every last friday of the month, where all his friends and acquaintances would come and try out the cage. Sometimes they’d have their girlfriends stand in the middle, building on the anticipation of driving around them. Jake didn’t understand that; wanting someone to stand in a potentially dangerous setting for a couple minutes. Maybe because he saw himself as a lone wolf, him and his bike. How it was supposed to be. 

Sure, he’d see someone now and then but it was purely to let out everything that was bottled in, needing some release sometimes. 

As he were riding home, he thought about all the preparation for tonight’s meet. Had he ordered the keg? Yes. Did he get enough wood for the bonfire? Yep. He tended to worry for nothing, knowing his organized self; it was truly out of habit to worry over little things. 

Jake turned off the bike in his garage, making sure she was nice and safe inside. Naming her the beloved was something dear to him; his friends all giving their bikes something corny or sexy as they said, like “kitty” or “princess”. 

But the beloved was not just some sexy bike, she made him feel things, power. And she was much more special to him than just a method of transportation. As he started caressing her with the clean soapy rag, his phone interrupted his music and began ringing. 

“Jake?” it was Jeremy, his best friend. 

“Yeah?” 

“Dude… I’m so sorry but I can’t make it tonight.” Jake groaned, the meets were never the same without Jeremy. 

“Why? What’s up?” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes for a second- waiting on his dumb excuse. 

“My parents want me to go meet this mechanic professor because my name was brought up somehow during my dad’s company dinner. I don’t know.. they really want me to go” He explained. Jake paused for a second before responding. 

“That sounds like a great opportunity, Jere. Don’t feel bad, just don’t miss next month’s meet, yeah?” He smiled softly as he waited for his response. 

“Of course, dude. I promise.” He replied, saying bye and hanging up. 

Jake sighed as his music played once the call was over, washing his bike with intense care. Before he could even notice the time passing, people were already showing up to his house. Thankful to be living on a secluded area with a large piece of land, there were no neighbors to be bothered by. 

JAKE

As time flew by, people began showing up to your house, gathering in your back yard. The kegs were set up, the string lights were plugged in, and of course; the cage was set up. There was a row of bikes neatly parked by the side of your house, awaiting for their turn. Though you always went first, no matter what. You passed by your acquaintances and friends, greeting them with a big smile and telling them to help themselves to the keg or drinks inside. 

The bonfire was burning bright, illuminating your surroundings with a beautiful golden glow. 

You passed by your garage to get the beloved, her cherry red color standing out to you, making your heart race. You took her off her stand and brought her to the door of the garage, someone stopping you in your tracks. 

Jeremy’s sister. 

She was only a year younger than the both of you and even though it wasn't much of a time difference, Jeremy did not want her at your house especially during cage meets. Though there she was, looking up at you with a smirk as she leaned on the side of the door. 

“What are you doing here?” You pushed the bike stand down with your foot, resting your arm on the bike. 

“Brother’s out of town. Thought I’d be in the clear for a free show.” She spoke, crossing her arms. 

“You know you can’t, Jere wouldn’t want you here.” You state. 

“Yeah? Who’s gonna tell him?” she countered. You stood back a little in shock. 

“I will. You know how protective he is.” You sigh, looking down at the bike and then back at her. 

“Let’s make a bet, Kiszka.” You open your mouth to disagree but she continues talking. “If I can make one round in the cage with you, you can take me home. If I fail, you tell Jeremy and I’ll deal with him.” She says, confidently. You’re taken aback a little, her confidence roaming around the tight space of your garage. 

She’s always been around, even when you and Jere were younger. You’d always done your best to ignore her even though she was a hell of a tease, and now that he was away you saw it as your chance. 

“You know what? Fine. Let’s see you fail, darlin’.” You smirk, kicking the stand up and walking towards the cage with the beloved, her following you. 

As you arrived to the cage, you settled the bike inside, Y/N following you in. She stood on the red X on the floor, the old tape used as a marking for where people would get their partners to stand. She looked at you with a smirk, though you could see a slight shimmer in her eye. You knew she trusted you, but you were up for a challenge. 

You watched as she took her jacket off, throwing it outside of the cage, it landed on the ground. You zipped up your leather jacket, tucking your necklace inside your neckline. You gave her one good look before putting your helmet on, pulling down the eye mask. 

You could hear the metal gate close, locked shut. The voices cheering on the outside, the music playing faintly in the background. All these distractions but she was the only thing you could focus on. She wore a tight black longsleeve satin dress with some black combat boots, she looked fucking amazing. It just excited you even more. 

You could hear her sucking in a breath as you straddled the beloved, your hand on the handles. You turn her on and roar the engine, the adrenaline moving through you. You kick up the stand and begin circling her across the cage, slowly moving higher and higher as you increase the speed, taking your time with it. 

Once you feel stable enough, you take your right hand off the handle, and begin dragging it gently across her shoulder, increasing the speed of your bike, revving the engine even louder as you watch her jump a little, but you can tell your touch helps her nerves. You bite your bottom lip to contain your smirk- unsuccessfully. Your hand caresses her shoulders, her stomach, her chest slightly. She closes her eyes and smiles in content, which makes you go even faster. Her eyes open once again and you can feel them on you. Ten seconds left of your time in the cage, your hand drags against her whole body, god she feels amazing. 

You hear the loud horn that alarms you the minute is over, and you slow down, to a stop. Your hair is stuck to your forehead by the time you take your helmet off, but all you can focus on is the way she’s smiling at you, how beautiful she looks, how wonderful that dress fits her. 

“So? You gonna tell him?” She smirks, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

“I think I can keep a lil secret..” You sigh, smiling down at her. 

-

The two of you walked over to your driveway with the beloved. You had borrowed an extra helmet off a friend since you didn’t own another one. You knew where she lived, and it wasn’t far, but you were more worried about if you’d be able to contain yourself from not kissing her, the way she affected you was something you never felt before. 

You straddled the bike once again as she put her helmet on. “I’m going to hold my hand out so it’s easier for you to get on, you’ll need to hold on tightly because I’m going to be going pretty fast.” You said, holding your hand out. She took it and climbed over the bike, settling herself closely behind you. 

“Like that?” She asked. You smirked behind your helmet. 

“Closer, love. Wouldn’t want you sliding off..” You smiled. She scooted closer and you could feel her chest against your back, it made your heart flutter. Your hands made their way to the handles as you turned on the bike once more, beginning your journey to her house. 

As the wind drifted through the hair sticking out your helmet, your hand drifted to her thigh, caressing it a little. You felt her arms tighten around your waist, and her fingers slowly make their way to the hem of your jacket. You sucked in a breath, trying to focus on the road. Her hands slid underneath your jacket, underneath your shirt, until she caressed your chest gently. You wondered if she could feel your heartbeat, she probably could.. It was beating so fast. You let out a shaky breath and told yourself you’d be at her house soon. 

Parked. Finally, you kicked down the stand. She removed her hands from your shirt, and hopped off the bike. You also got off and removed your helmet, resting your ass on the seat of the bike as you faced her. She removed her helmet and shook her head a little, to let her hair loose. She nearly took your breath away, the beauty taking over. 

“Thanks for the ride.” She smiled, handing the helmet over to you. 

“Thanks for the massage.” You smirked. 

“Anytime” She said, stepping closer. You looked down at her, a slight shimmer in the reflection of her dark orbs. “I like riding with you,” She paused, leaning in. “It’s so…” She paused once more, her lips so close to yours. “Intimate.. Isn’t it?” She said. 

You nodded, your lips parted a little. 

“Are you going to kiss me goodnight, Kiszka?” She said, and you didn’t reply. You kissed her gently, her lips soft like satin, you could drown in them. She was so soft, like honey, a warmth you didn’t know you needed until right now. She pulled away so gently, almost as if she was afraid it would hurt you. 

“Goodnight.. See you at your next meet..” She smiled, waving a little before going inside her house, leaving you speechless.

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