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Summary:
A heat wave has decided to cross the path into Riverdale, just in time for the small Sunnyside trailer's air conditioning to decide to kick the bucket. Once you've taken enough showers to count on two hands and you've drank all the water, FP decides it's time to take matters into his own hands and help you both cool down.
Summary:
Pairing: FP x reader
Pairing:
Warnings: NSFW-ish gif under cut, swearing, teasing, FP looking cute in his Pop's uniform, ice play, overstimulated reader, oral (female receiving,) CONSENSUAL SEX, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you hit it kids)
Warnings:
Word count: 3628 *i got SO carried away with this but i promise its worth it*
Word count:
!!! GIF BELONGS TO illusionlovers !!!
"Oh my god," You patter down the trailers hallway, the carpet sticking under your feet, as you hear the front down creak open on its hinges, "if I knew the death of me would have been a heat wave, I never would of boosted about summer." You groan as you reach the kitchen and are greeted with FP who's honing in a want to laugh at your over exaggerated complaints.
Its not that you minded heat, you always have loved summer. And its not that you particularly minded the sudden heat wave- it gave a reason for trouble to sit at bay, giving you and FP the chance to stay in for once in your lives. What you did mind however, was when the air conditioner- the one you reminded FP at least four times to fix a week prier, its rattling a nouzets to, you swear, the whole town- decided to kick the bucket when the sun was high and proud, beating down at 101 degrees, the small trailer not standing a chance under the scorch.
FP tosses his Pop's hat on the recliner nearest the door, giving your towel covered ass a playful swat as you sway by to crash down into the couch. You contemplated getting dressed earlier today, but as that you just got out of your sixth ice bath of the day, you gave up the fourth time and had resorted to the attire of a towel since.
"You're lucky, you got to get out of this hell." You raise your hands to your forehead once you're seated on the couch, pushing your hair from your skin as it sticks, leaning your head back against the couch. Your towel falls from the loss of your support and pools around your sides and you contemplate retrieving it, but decide not to as it was just one too many layers in the first place.
"We could go to Pop's, Jug and his friends are there. Could whip you up a shake." FP leans over the counter as he speaks to you, knocking an empty water bottle out of his way as he does so. He trails his eyes around the kitchen when he picks up one empty bottle, then another, and one more, until he realizes you've managed to drink your way through the whole twelve pack. He huffs out a laugh and pads his way over to you, eyes not missing the chance to scan over your oh so exposed- and oh so beautiful-body.
