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#so you're welcome to the three people reading these posts
hussyknee · 6 months
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17/12/23 this masterlist has been completely, vetted, revamped and reformatted with free access to all reading and viewing material. It will be updated and edited periodically so please try and reblog the original post if you're able.
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The Big Damn List Of Stuff They Said You Didn't Know
(Yes, it's a lot. Just choose your preferred medium and then pick one.)
Podcasts
Backgrounders and Quick Facts
Interactive Maps
Teach-Out Resources
Reading Material (free)
Films and Documentaries (free)
Non-Governmental Organizations
Social Media
How You Can Help
Podcasts
Cocktails & Capitalism: The Story of Palestine Part 1, Part 3
It Could Happen Here: The Cheapest Land is Bought with Blood, Part 2, The Balfour Declaration
Citations Needed: Media narratives and consent manufacturing around Israel-Palestine and the Gaza Siege
The Deprogram: Free Palestine, ft. decolonizatepalestine.com.
Backgrounders and Quick Facts
The Palestine Academy: Palestine 101
Institute for Middle East Understanding: Explainers and Quick Facts
Interactive Maps
Visualizing Palestine
Teach-Out Resources
1) Cambridge UCU and Pal Society
Palestine 101
Intro to Palestine Film + Art + Literature
Resources for Organising and Facilitating)
2) The Jadaliya YouTube Channel of the Arab Studies Institute
Gaza in Context Teach-in series
War on Palestine podcast
Updates and Discussions of news with co-editors Noura Erakat and Mouin Rabbani.
3) The Palestine Directory
History (virtual tours, digital archives, The Palestine Oral History Project, Documenting Palestine, Queering Palestine)
Cultural History (Palestine Open Maps, Overdue Books Zine, Palestine Poster Project)
Contemporary Voices in the Arts
Get Involved: NGOs and campaigns to help and support.
3) PalQuest Interactive Encyclopedia of the Palestine Question.
4) The Palestine Remix by Al Jazeera
Books and Articles
Free reading material
My Gdrive of Palestine/Decolonization Literature (nearly all the books recommended below + books from other recommended lists)
Five free eBooks by Verso
Three Free eBooks on Palestine by Haymarket
LGBT Activist Scott Long's Google Drive of Palestine Freedom Struggle Resources
Recommended Reading List
Academic Books
Edward Said (1979) The Question of Palestine, Random House
Ilan Pappé (2002)(ed) The Israel/Palestine Question, Routledge
Ilan Pappé (2006) The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine, OneWorld Publications
Ilan Pappé (2011) The Forgotten Palestinians: A History of the Palestinians in Israel, Yale University Press
Ilan Pappé (2015) The Idea of Israel: A History of Power and Knowledge, Verso Books
Ilan Pappé (2017) The Biggest Prison On Earth: A History Of The Occupied Territories, OneWorld Publications
Ilan Pappé (2022) A History of Modern Palestine, Cambridge University Press
Rosemary Sayigh (2007) The Palestinians: From Peasants to Revolutionaries, Bloomsbury
Andrew Ross (2019) Stone Men: the Palestinians who Built Israel, Verso Books
Rashid Khalidi (2020) The Hundred Years’ War on Palestine: A History of Settler Colonialism and Resistance 1917–2017
Ariella Azoulay (2011) From Palestine to Israel: A Photographic Record of Destruction and State Formation, 1947-1950, Pluto Press
Ariella Azoulay and Adi Ophir (2012) The One-State Condition: Occupation and Democracy in Israel/Palestine, Stanford University Press.
Jeff Halper (2010) An Israeli in Palestine: Resisting Dispossession, Redeeming Israel, Pluto Press
Jeff Halper (2015) War Against the People: Israel, the Palestinians and Global Pacification
Jeff Halper (2021) Decolonizing Israel, Liberating Palestine: Zionism, Settler Colonialism, and the Case for One Democratic State, Pluto Press
Anthony Loewenstein (2023) The Palestine Laboratory: How Israel exports the Technology of Occupation around the World
Noura Erakat (2019) Justice for Some: Law and the Question of Palestine, Stanford University Press
Neve Gordon (2008) Israel’s Occupation, University of California Press
Joseph Massad (2006) The Persistence of the Palestinian Question: Essays on Zionism and the Palestinians, Routledge
Memoirs
Edward Said (1986) After the Last Sky: Palestine Lives, Columbia University PEdward Saidress
Edward Said (2000) Out of Place; A Memoir, First Vintage Books
Mourid Barghouti (2005) I saw Ramallah, Bloomsbury
Hatim Kanaaneh (2008) A Doctor in Galilee: The Life and Struggle of a Palestinian in Israel, Pluto Press
Raja Shehadeh (2008) Palestinian Walks: Into a Vanishing Landscape, Profile Books
Ghada Karmi (2009) In Search of Fatima: A Palestinian Story, Verso Books
Vittorio Arrigoni (2010) Gaza Stay Human, Kube Publishing
Ramzy Baroud (2010) My Father Was a Freedom Fighter: Gaza's Untold Story, Pluto Press
Izzeldin Abuelaish (2011) I Shall Not Hate: A Gaza Doctor’s Journey on the Road to Peace and Human Dignity, Bloomsbury
Atef Abu Saif (2015) The Drone Eats with Me: A Gaza Diary, Beacon Press
Anthologies
Voices from Gaza - Insaniyyat (The Society of Palestinian Anthropologists)
Letters From Gaza • Protean Magazine
Salma Khadra Jayyusi (1992) Anthology of Modern Palestinian Literature, Columbia University Press
ASHTAR Theatre (2010) The Gaza Monologues
Refaat Alreer (ed) (2014) Gaza Writes Back, Just World Books
Refaat Alreer, Laila El-Haddad (eds) (2015) Gaza Unsilenced, Just World Books
Cate Malek and Mateo Hoke (eds)(2015) Palestine Speaks: Narrative of Life under Occupation, Verso Books
Jehad Abusalim, Jennifer Bing (eds) (2022) Light in Gaza: Writings Born of Fire, Haymarket Books
Short Story Collections
Ghassan Kanafani, Hilary Kilpatrick (trans) (1968) Men in the Sun and Other Palestinian Stories, Lynne Rienner Publishers
Ghassan Kanafani, Barbara Harlow, Karen E. Riley (trans) (2000) Palestine’s Children: Returning to Haifa and Other Stories, Lynne Rienner Publishers
Atef Abu Saif (2014) The Book of Gaza: A City in Short Fiction, Comma Press
Samira Azzam, Ranya Abdelrahman (trans) (2022) Out Of Time: The Collected Short Stories of Samira Azzam
Sonia Sulaiman (2023) Muneera and the Moon; Stories Inspired by Palestinian Folklore
Essay Collections
Edward W. Said (2000) Reflections on Exile and Other Essays, Harvard University Press
Salim Tamari (2008) Mountain against the Sea: Essays on Palestinian Society and Culture, University of California Press
Fatma Kassem (2011) Palestinian Women: Narratives, histories and gendered memory, Bloombsbury
Ramzy Baroud (2019) These Chains Will Be Broken: Palestinian Stories of Struggle and Defiance in Israeli Prisons, Clarity Press
Novels
Sahar Khalifeh (1976) Wild Thorns, Saqi Books
Liyana Badr (1993) A Balcony over the Fakihani, Interlink Books
Hala Alyan (2017) Salt Houses, Harper Books
Susan Abulhawa (2011) Mornings in Jenin, Bloomsbury
Susan Abulhawa (2020) Against the Loveless World, Bloomsbury
Graphic novels
Joe Sacco (2001) Palestine
Joe Sacco (2010) Footnotes in Gaza
Naji al-Ali (2009) A Child in Palestine, Verso Books
Mohammad Sabaaneh (2021) Power Born of Dreams: My Story is Palestine, Street Noise Book*
Poetry
Fady Joudah (2008) The Earth in the Attic, Sheridan Books,
Ghassan Zaqtan, Fady Joudah (trans) (2012) Like a Straw Bird It Follows Me and Other Poems, Yale University Press
Hala Alyan (2013) Atrium: Poems, Three Rooms Press*
Mohammed El-Kurd (2021) Rifqa, Haymarket Books
Mosab Abu Toha (2022) Things You May Find Hidden in My Ear: Poems from Gaza, City Lights Publishers
Tawfiq Zayyad (2023) We Are Here to Stay, Smokestack Books*
The Works of Mahmoud Darwish
Poems
Rafeef Ziadah (2011) We Teach Life, Sir
Nasser Rabah (2022) In the Endless War
Refaat Alareer (2011) If I Must Die
Hiba Abu Nada (2023) I Grant You Refuge/ Not Just Passing
[All books except the ones starred are available in my gdrive. I'm adding more each day. But please try and buy whatever you're able or borrow from the library. Most should be available in the discounted Free Palestine Reading List by Pluto Press, Verso and Haymarket Books.]
Human Rights Reports & Documents
Information on current International Court of Justice case on ‘Legal Consequences arising from the Policies and Practices of Israel in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem’
UN Commission of Inquiry Report 2022
UN Special Rapporteur Report on Apartheid 2022
Amnesty International Report on Apartheid 2022
Human Rights Watch Report on Apartheid 2021
Report of the United Nations Fact-Finding Mission on the Gaza Conflict’ 2009 (‘The Goldstone Report’)
Advisory Opinion on the Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, International Court of Justice, 9 July 2004
Films
Documentaries
Jenin, Jenin (2003) dir. Mohammed Bakri
Massacre (2005) dir. Monica Borgmann, Lokman Slim, Hermann Theissen
Slingshot HipHop (2008) dir. Jackie Reem Salloum
Waltz with Bashir (2008) dir. Ari Folman † (also on Amazon Prime)
Tears of Gaza (2010) dir. Vibeke Løkkeberg (also on Amazon Prime)
5 Broken Cameras (2011) dir. Emad Burnat (also on Amazon Prime)
The Gatekeepers (2012) dir. Dror Moreh (also on Amazon Prime)
The Great Book Robbery (2012) | Al Jazeera English
Al Nakba (2013) | Al Jazeera (5-episode docu-series)
The Village Under the Forest (2013) dir. Mark J. Kaplan
Where Should The Birds Fly (2013) dir. Fida Qishta
Naila and the Uprising (2017) (also on Amazon Prime)
GAZA (2019) dir. Andrew McConnell and Garry Keane
Gaza Fights For Freedom (2019) dir. Abby Martin
Little Palestine: Diary Of A Siege (2021) dir. Abdallah Al Khatib 
Palestine 1920: The Other Side of the Palestinian Story (2021) | Al Jazeera World Documentary
Gaza Fights Back (2021) | MintPress News Original Documentary | dir. Dan Cohen
Innocence (2022) dir. Guy Davidi
Short Films
Fatenah (2009) dir. Ahmad Habash
Gaza-London (2009) dir. Dina Hamdan
Condom Lead (2013) dir. Tarzan Nasser, Arab Nasser
OBAIDA (2019) | Defence for Children Palestine
Theatrical Films
Divine Intervention (2002) | dir. Elia Suleiman (also on Netflix)
Paradise Now (2005) dir Hany Abu-Assad (also on Amazon Prime)
Lemon Tree (2008) (choose auto translate for English subs) (also on Amazon Prime)
It Must Be Heaven (2009) | dir. Elia Suleiman †
The Promise (2010) mini-series dir. Peter Kosminsky (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)
Habibi (2011)* dir. Susan Youssef
Omar (2013)* dir. Hany Abu-Assad †
3000 Nights (2015)* dir. Mai Masri
Foxtrot (2017) dir. Samuel Maoz (also on Amazon Prime)
The Time that Remains (2019) dir. Elia Suleiman †
Gaza Mon Amour (2020) dir. Tarzan Nasser, Arab Nasser †
The Viewing Booth (2020) dir. Ra'anan Alexandrowicz (on Amazon Prime and Apple TV)
Farha (2021)* | dir. Darin J. Sallam
Palestine Film Institute Archive
All links are for free viewing. The ones marked with a star (*) can be found on Netflix, while the ones marked † can be downloaded for free from my Mega account.
If you find Guy Davidi's Innocence anywhere please let me know, I can't find it for streaming or download even to rent or buy.
In 2018, BDS urged Netflix to dump Fauda, a series created by former members of IOF death squads that legitimizes and promotes racist violence and war crimes, to no avail. Please warn others to not give this series any views. BDS has not called for a boycott of Netflix. ]
Planning to link two separate posts here listing all the books in my drive and all the films I couldn't include here. Check back for updates.
NGOs
The Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) Movement
Medical Aid for Palestinians
Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Monitor
Palestine Defence for Children International
Palestinian Feminist Collective
Al-Shabaka: The Palestinian Policy Network
Addameer Prisoner Support and Human Rights Association
Institute for Palestine Studies
Al Haq
Artists for Palestine
The Palestine Museum
Jewish Currents
B’Tselem
DAWN
Social Media
Palestnians on Tumblr
@el-shab-hussein
@killyfromblame
@apollos-olives
@fairuzfan
@palipunk
@sar-soor
@nabulsi
@ibtisams
@wearenotjustnumbers2
@90-ghost (is in Gaza right now. Please donate to his GFM and boost it.)
@tamarrud
Allies and advocates (not Palestinian)
@bloglikeanegyptian beautiful posts that read like op-eds
@vyorei daily news roundups
@luthienne resistance through prose
@decolonize-the-left scoop on the US political plans and impacts
@feluka
(Please don't expect any of these blogs to be completely devoted to Palestine allyship; they do post regularly about it but they're still personal blogs and post whatever else they feel like. Do not harrass them.)
Gaza journalists
Motaz Azaiza IG: @motaz_azaiza | Twitter: @azaizamotaz9 | TikTok: _motaz.azaiza (left Gaza as of Jan 23)
Bisan Owda IG and TikTok: wizard_bisan1 | Twitter: @wizardbisan
Saleh Aljafarawi IG: @saleh_aljafarawi | Twitter: @S_Aljafarawi | TikTok: @saleh_aljafarawi97
Plestia Alaqad IG: @byplestia | TikTok: @plestiaaqad (left Gaza)
Wael Al-Dahdouh IG: @wael_eldahdouh | Twitter: @WaelDahdouh (left Gaza as of Jan 13)
Hind Khoudary IG: @hindkhoudary | Twitter: @Hind_Gaza
Ismail Jood IG and TikTok: @ismail.jood (announced end of coverage on Jan 25)
Yara Eid IG: @eid_yara | Twitter: @yaraeid_
Eye on Palestine IG: @eye.on.palestine | Twitter: @EyeonPalestine | TikTok: @eyes.on.palestine
Muhammad Shehada Twitter: @muhammadshehad2
(Edit: even though some journos have evacuated, the footage up to the end of their reporting is up on their social media, and they're also doing urgent fundraisers to get their families and friends to safety. Please donate or share their posts.)
News organisations
The Electronic Intifada Twitter: @intifada | IG: @electronicintifada
Quds News Network Twitter and Telegram: @QudsNen | IG: @qudsn (Arabic)
Times of Gaza IG: @timesofgaza | Twitter: @Timesofgaza | Telegram: @TIMESOFGAZA
The Palestine Chronicle Twitter: @PalestineChron | IG: @palestinechron | @palestinechronicle
Al-Jazeera Twitter: @AJEnglish | IG and TikTok: @aljazeeraenglish, @ajplus
Middle East Eye IG and TikTok: @middleeasteye | Twitter: @MiddleEastEye
Democracy Now Twitter and IG: @democracynow TikTok: @democracynow.org
Haaretz* Twitter: @Haaretz | IG: haaretzcom
Mondoweiss IG and TikTok: @mondoweiss | Twitter: @Mondoweiss
The Intercept Twitter and IG: @theintercept
MintPress Twitter: @MintPressNews | IG: mintpress
Novara Media Twitter and IG: @novaramedia
Truthout Twitter and IG: @truthout
[*Please note that Haaretz is an Israeli Liberal Zionist newspaper and heavily propagandized against Palestine. It's included here only as a Zionist critic of the Israeli government and IDF from within Israel.]
Palestnians on Other Social Media
Mouin Rabbani: Middle East analyst specializing in the Arab-Israeli conflict and Palestinian affairs. Twitter: @MouinRabbani
Noura Erakat: Legal scholar, human rights attorney, specialising in Israeli–Palestinian conflict. Twitter: @4noura | IG: @nouraerakat | (http://www.nouraerakat.com/)
Hebh Jamal: Journalist in Germany. IG and Twitter: @hebh_jamal
Ghada Sasa: PhD candidate in International Relations, green colonialism, and Islam in Canada. Twitter: @sasa_ghada | IG: @ghadasasa48
Taleed El Sabawi: Assistant professor of law and researcher in public health. Twitter: @el_sabawi | IG
Lexi Alexander: Filmmaker and activist. Twitter: @LexiAlex | IG: @lexialexander1
Mariam Barghouti: Writer, blogger, researcher, and journalist. Twitter: @MariamBarghouti | IG: @mariambarghouti
Rasha Abdulhadi: Queer poet, author and cultural organizer. Twitter: @rashaabdulhadi
Mohammed el-Kurd: Writer and activist from Jerusalem. IG: @mohammedelkurd | Twitter: @m7mdkurd
Ramy Abdu: Founder and Chairman of the Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Monitor. Twitter: @RamyAbdu
Subhi: Founder of The Palestine Academy website. IG: @sbeih.jpg |TikTok @iamsbeih | Twitter: @iamsbeih
Allies
Lowkey (Kareem Dennis): Rapper, activist, video and podcast host for MintPress. Twitter: @LowkeyOnline IG: @lowkeyonline
Francesca Albanese: UN Special Rapporteur on the Occupied Territories. Twitter: @FranceskAlbs
Sana Saeed: Journalist and media critic, host and senior producer at Al-Jazeera Plus. IG: @sanaface | Twitter: @SanaSaeed
Shailja Patel: Poet, playwright, activist, founding member of Kenyans For Peace, Truth and Justice. Twitter: @shailjapatel
Jairo I. Fúnez-Flores: Researcher in curriculum studies, decolonial theory, social movements. Twitter: @Jairo_I_Funez
Jack Dodson: Journalist and Filmmaker. Twitter: @JackDodson IG: @jdodson4
Imani Barbarin: Writer, public speaker, and disability rights activist. IG: @crutches_and_spice | Twitter: @Imani_Barbarin | TikTok: @crutches_and_spice
Jewish Allies
Katie Halper: US comedian, writer, filmmaker, podcaster, and political commentator. IG and Twitter: @kthalps
Amanda Gelender: Writer. Twitter: @agelender | (https://agelender.medium.com/)
Yoav Litvin: Jerusalem-born Writer and Photographer. IG and Twitter: @nookyelur | (yoavlitvin.com)
Alana Lentin: Professor of Cultural and Social Analysis at Western Sydney University. Twitter: @alanalentin
Gideon Levy: anti-Zionist Israeli journalist and activist. Twitter: @gideonle
How You Can Help Palestine
How to be an Ally 101
URGENT‼️📢: Global Strike Guide
If any links are broken let me know. Or pull up the current post to check whether it's fixed.
"Knowledge is Israel's worst enemy. Awareness is Israel's most hated and feared foe. That's why Israel bombs a university: it wants to kill openness and determination to refuse living under injustice and racism."
— Dr. Refaat Alareer, (martyred Dec 6, 2023)
From River To The Sea Palestine Will Be Free 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸
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Edit 1: took the first video down because turns out the animator is a terf and it links to her blog. Really sorry for any distress.
Edit 2: All recommended readings + Haymarket recommendations + essential decolonization texts have been uploaded to my linked gdrive. I will adding more periodically. Please do buy or check them out from the library if possible, but this post was made for and by poor and gatekept Global South bitches like me.
Some have complained about the memes being disrespectful. You're actually legally obligated to make fun of Israeli propaganda and Zionists. I don't make the rules.
Edit 3: "The river to the sea" does not mean the expulsion of Jews from Palestine. Believing that is genocide apologia.
Edit 4: Gazans have specifically asked us to put every effort into pushing for a ceasefire instead of donations. "Raising humanitarian aid" is a grift Western governments are pushing right now to deflect from the fact that they're sending billions to Israel to keep carpet bombing Gazans. As long as the blockades are still in place there will never be enough aid for two million people. (UPDATE: PLEASE DONATE to the Gazan's GoFundMe fundraisers to help them buy food and get out of Rafah into Egypt. E-SIMs, food and medical supplies are also essential. Please donate to the orgs linked in the How You Can Help. Go on the strikes. DO NOT STOP PROTESTING.)
Edit 5: Google drive link for academic books folder has been fixed. Also have added a ton of resources to all the other folders so please check them out.
Edit 6: Added interactive maps, Jadaliya channel, and masterlists of donation links and protest support and of factsheets.
The twitter accounts I reposted as it was given to me and I just now realized it had too many Israeli voices and almost none of the Palestinians I'm following, so it's being edited. Check back for more. I also removed sources like Jewish Voices of Peace and Breaking the Silence that do good work but have come under fair criticism from Palestinians.
Edit 7: Complete reformatting
Edit 8: Complete revamping of the social media section. It now reflects my own following list.
Edit 9: removed some more problematic people from the allies list. Remember that the 2SS is a grift that's used to normalize violence and occupation, kids. Supporting the one-state solution is lowest possible bar for allyship. It's "Free Palestine" not "Free half of Palestine and hope Israel doesn't go right back to killing them".
Edit 10: added The Palestine Directory + Al Jazeera documentary + Addameer. This "100 links per post" thing sucks.
Edit 11: more documentaries and films
Edit 12: reformatted reading list
Edit 13: had to remove @palipunk's masterlist to add another podcast. It's their pinned post and has more resources Palestinian culture and crafts if you want to check it out
72K notes · View notes
kaleldobrev · 7 months
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I Want Them To Hear
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Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Fem!Reader
Summary: Ben wants to make sure Hughie knows what it actually sounds like when the two of you have sex. In other words, Ben makes damn sure Hughie gets yet another night of no sleep because of the two of you.
Original Prompt: Requested by @k-slla | I loved your last post (poor, poor Hughie 😂). I would love to read a sequel, where SB& reader DO keep everyone up, for other reasons 😏 (if you're up to it 😊) x Kerly
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: Cursing (23x), Smut (Oral - M&F receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Sex - P in V), Implied p*rn watching, Hughie getting scarred for life (again), Semi-Public sex (living room)
Authors Note: Before you read this make sure you read A Simple Misunderstanding first | I think 23 curse words is a new record for curse words for me (21 out of them are the same too) | I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you all enjoy it! | 18+ only please | MDNI | If you want to request something, just send me a message! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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You looked over at the clock that was above the fireplace in the living room, and it was almost midnight, and you weren’t the least bit surprised that you weren’t even tired. Although you didn’t have a good sleep schedule before you joined the Boys (as you were a full-time college student when you joined the group), your sleep schedule somehow became even more jacked when you joined; something you didn’t think was even remotely possible. You had found yourself going to sleep at three, four, sometimes five in the morning, or not even going to sleep at all – a constant flow of energy drinks and coffee to keep you going.
The last couple of days though were unusually uneventful, verging on normal, like there wasn’t some kind of revenge war going on. The closest thing that had been kind of eventful was Hughie’s outburst this morning over breakfast, accusing you and Ben of having sex which kept him up – something that actually didn’t happen between you and Ben even though it was something that you did want to happen last night. Due to his little outburst though, the rest of the day was filled with a consistent flow of jokes (mainly at your best friend’s expense) that seemed to put everyone in a great mood (except Hughie of course). In a way, you did feel bad for him, but at the same time, his outburst this morning was unnecessary.
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Your legs were currently in Ben’s lap, one of his arms draped over them as his other hand was lying on the arm of the couch with a remote in hand; the only source of light in the room coming from the television. As Ben flipped through channel after channel, you couldn’t help but stare at him as the shadows on his face changed with every single flip trying to find something to watch. “How is there so many channels and nothing to watch?” He asked, not even looking at you.
You shrugged your shoulders and he turned to face you. “I found plenty of things I’d watch. It’s not my fault you’re picky.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not picky. TV just sucks now.” He began, and you already knew where this conversation was going. It was about to turn into a ‘back in my day’ rant that you had heard practically every single day since you had met him. “Back in my day, TV was actually good.” Before you could interject he continued. “We didn’t have stupid reality shows about people who are famous for nothing.” You couldn’t help but agree with him on that one. “There’s 400 channels and only two of them are watchable.”
“And which channels does the almighty Soldier Boy deem watchable?” You asked, emphasizing the nickname.
“ESPN and TCM.” He answered without hesitation. You simply just rolled your eyes.
“Of course those would be the only two channels.” You mumbled, even though you knew he could hear you; there was no use in mumbling around him. “I love ESPN and TCM too, but there are other channels that are watchable Ben. How about FoodNetwork and HGTV?”
Ben scoffed. “Sometimes they’re watchable.”
“Okay. How about…” You thought for a moment, trying to think of a channel that Ben would possibly enjoy; then it hit you, causing a smirk to form on your face. “How about Skinamax?”
He looked at you with a confused expression. “What the fuck is Skinamax?” You let out a slight laugh, causing him to raise a brow. “What?”
“You don’t know what Skinamax is?” You asked. “Honestly, I’m slightly surprised.” You held out your hand. “Hand me the remote and I’ll show you.”
“Why can’t you just fucking tell me?” He asked, his facial expression annoyed.
“Because Ben, it’d be more fun to show you.” Your lips turned into a smirk. “Don’t you trust me?”
Again, your response earned yet another eyeroll from him. Of course I fucking trust you, he thought. What kind of stupid question is that? “Fine.” He said, handing you the remote.
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“Okay, and why couldn’t you of just told me it was just fucking porn?” He asked, his tone sounding a little annoyed with you.
“Because, I thought it would be much more fun to show you.” You turned away from the television and looked at him. “You’ve watched porn before though right? Like, I’m assuming you have cause well…you’re…well you.”
He looked at you briefly before looking back at the screen again. “Have you watched porn before?” He mumbled, mocking your tone. “Of course I fucking have.” He said, a tad louder and a bit more annoyed sounding. He turned back to face you. “Who hasn’t watched porn before?”
You shrugged. “Fair point.” You said. “You know…” you began, as you started inching your way closer to him. “As much as I’d love to continue watching this…interesting movie. There is something I’d much rather be doing.”
He smirked, his full attention on you now. “And what’s that Sweetheart?”
“Well, you did make me a promise this morning.” Your voice was low, your hand inching closer to the hem of his pants.
“I made you a lot of promises this morning.” His voice was low, but not nearly as low as yours.
“But there was one in particular.” Your fingers started slipping into the waistband of his pants as you maintained complete eye contact with him.
“You going to tell me or is it more fun to show me?” He asked, your hand made contact with his cock and you gently wrapped your hand around him. Ben slightly groaned at the contact.
You couldn’t help but smirk. “I think you know the answer.” You whispered.
Without a second to waste, he pulled his sweats down giving you slightly better access as you started moving your hand up and down. You went slow, knowing that it was killing him inside with the pace that you were going at. As he was about to open up his mouth to protest the slow pace, your head went down and you started sucking him off; a slight taste of pre-cum on your tongue. Your hand and mouth started going in tandem with each other; no longer focused on his face, but focusing on what you were doing. “Fuck,” he groaned, and he threw his head back into the couch, enjoying the feeling of your mouth and hands wrapped around him, a feeling that he’d wanted since the moment he laid his eyes on you – despite him knowing how much you hated him at first.
You released him with a pop for a moment; your hand still going. But the loss of your mouth on him caused him to open his eye to look at you. “Ben, you need to be quiet. I don’t want the whole house to hear.” You stated.
Your words gave Ben an idea, and a smirk grew on his face. “Princess, I want them to hear.”
“You…you want them to hear?” Your voice a whisper. “Why?”
“Cause I want your little friend to know what it actually sounds like when the two of us fuck.” His words made you audibly gulp, and you barely even knew how to respond. Weirdly, the thought turned you on.
“Okay.” Your reply hesitant. Despite the slight hesitation, you wrapped your lips around his cock again; your mouth and hand working in tandem again.
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As you worked, the sounds that were coming out of Ben’s mouth weren’t remotely quiet; a mixture of groaning and moaning. His hand gripped your hair slightly, pulling at it gently, messing it up. Between him basically playing with your hair as you blew him, and the sounds that he was making; it encouraged you to pick up the pace a little, and you yourself felt yourself starting to get increasingly more wet. “God, your fucking mouth.” He groaned. He bucked up a little, and when he did that he let himself go; releasing himself into your mouth and down your throat. You usually weren’t a swallower but for him, you made the exception.
Once you helped him ride out his orgasm, you released him with a pop; the two of you making eye contact again. “Lay down Princess,” he demanded, “and spread those legs of yours,” he grinned.
“Yes Sir.” You said, probably a little bit too loud.
The nickname you gave him just made him grin even wider, slightly more evil looking. “Can’t wait to wreck this pussy of yours.” He said, completely pulling your shorts down in one swift movement. He eyed your bare pussy for a moment before smirking up at you, cocking a brow. “Went commando today uh?” You bit your bottom lip, nodding. “Sweetheart, if I would have known, I would have fucked you on the kitchen table this morning just to prove a point.”
“Be-” before you could speak, his point finger started to slowly dip inside of you. “Fuck.” You moaned, slightly whispering.
“You’re fucking soaked Princess.” He said, smugness in his voice. “All this just from blowing me uh?” He added a second finger as they both started going into you a bit deeper, a slight curve to them.
“Y-yes.” You moaned out; his two fingers starting to move slowly in and out of you, a similar pace you had done earlier on him.
“So, tell me this Sweetheart. Are you generally just a cock slut, or are you just a slut for my cock?”
The pace of his fingers started to pick up gingerly; no words were forming in your brain to even respond to his question. He was barely doing anything to you, and you were slightly embarrassed by the way your body was reacting to his touch, but at the same time, he actually knew what he was doing – hitting you in all the right spots. “Just…Fuck…Just for yours.”
“Just for mine what?” He added a third finger, curling them inside of you. All you could do was moan; verging on the sound of pornographic. “Need you to use your words Princess. I know how much you like to talk, don’t hold back on me now.”
“Fuck me…” you mumbled, feeling a heat rising in your cheeks. “I’m only a slut for your cock Ben.”
He clicked his tongue a few times, seeming unsatisfied with your answer. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t quite hear you.” The smugness in his voice returned, knowing that he could hear you. You knew what he really meant: your friends couldn’t hear you.
With a small groan, you spoke just a tad louder, hoping it would be loud enough to satisfy him. “I’m only a slut for you cock Ben.”
He grinned. “There it is.” He sounded so proud of himself.
“Ben I’m about to –” you came, not even finishing your sentence, your orgasm practically exploding out of you. Despite the amount of times you’ve had sex, this was the first time you could actually say that you had a mind-blowing orgasm. He continued to move his fingers in and out of you rapidly as you rid out your orgasm.
“Fucking beautiful,” he praised. “I’ll never get fucking tired of seeing a woman cum.”
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As soon as you came down from your high, he removed his fingers from you, licking them clean; and you already hated the feeling of not having his fingers inside of you. “Fuck.” You breathed out, your chest rising up and down as you tried catching your breath.
Ben chuckled. “You good there Sweetheart?” He sounded amused.
“Yeah…So…Good…” your voice trailed off.
“Good, cause I’m not done with you just yet.” Before you had the chance to respond, he pulled you by your ankles, sliding you across the couch. Pulling you into his lap, both of your hands rested on his chest, slight heat radiating from it, which strangely felt good against your palms.
Your legs were spread open wide enough that you were able to straddle him; your knees on either side of his thighs resting on the couch. Without any kind of direction from him, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, tossing it to the side, leaving you completely naked; you felt even more vulnerable somehow than you did before. You leaned in, your hands on either side of his face now and kissed him; his hands automatically gripping your hips. Based on the tightness of the grip you knew you’d have bruises, and honestly – you couldn’t care less, you wanted him to leave marks.
The both of you moaned into the kiss, and you started rocking your hips gently, trying to obtain some kind of friction. He smirked against your lips. “Someone’s a little needy.” He teased. “You just came Sweetheart.”
“Yeah but…” You kissed his neck, and leaned in close to his ear, “that was on your fingers, not on your cock.”
“And you say I have the dirty mouth.” He laughed a little, removing his hands from your hips. You sat back on his thighs as he took one of his hands and wrapped it around himself, pumping it in his hand a few times. “Going to fill that pussy right up.”
“Please.” Your tone slightly begging.
“So cute when you beg.” He said, his tip teasing your entrance. “You ready for me Sweetheart?” You nodded and placed your hands on his shoulders, almost as if you were bracing yourself. As he started pushing himself inside of you, you let out a long moan, shutting your eyes. “Fucking love your moans.” He complicated, as he watched your face slightly contort. “Taking me so well too.” He chuckled. “Really are a cock slut uh?”
“Only for you.” You breathed, his cock almost fully inside of you.
“Damn right only for me.” His voice sounded slightly possessive; and the tone turned you on more than you thought it would, and he felt you clench around him. “You like that uh?” You nodded in response. “Good.”
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As you started moving your hips, Ben started placing kisses between your breasts, every so often taking one of your nipples into his mouth. The noises you were making were pornographic sounding again; no words really escaping your lips, just moans. Your hand gripped the back of his head, clutching at his hair. “Ben,” you moaned, shutting your eyes as you continued to rock your hips.
He attached his lips to your neck now, slightly nipping and sucking on the skin. Not only were there going to be marks on your hips, there were going to be marks on your neck now too. “Mine,” you heard him mumble; but you weren’t entirely sure if you heard him properly.
You opened your eyes and looked at him, and he removed his lips from your neck. “You heard me,” his voice possessive again. “You’re mine now.” He said. You weren’t sure if this was bedroom talk or he actually did mean that you were his, and his alone. Either way, you loved the sound of being his – despite the slight alpha/misogynistic undertone to it.
“All yours.” You agreed. He took two of his fingers and started rubbing your clit, trying to get you closer and closer to the edge. You felt the pressure start to build, and you were insanely close to coming again. “I’m so close.”
“Can’t wait to cum inside of you Princess.” His fingers started picking up the pace, and his hip movements were starting to get erratic – he was close too.
“Fuck.” You mumbled, your own movements matching his erratic ones. “I’m about to –” as you started to cum, his lips latched onto yours, and you moaned into his mouth.
“I’m right there with you.” He said, coming closely after you. The kiss deepened as the two of you rid out your orgasms; his fingers working lazily on your clit.
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“Holy shit.” You said, essentially collapsing onto him. Your forehead rested on his shoulder as your chests were pressed up against each other; his arms wrapped around your lower back, his clock still buried inside of you.
“You alright there Sweetheart?” He asked, kissing the top of your head.
“Yeah just…” you started breathing a little heavy again. “Don’t have your stamina.” You laughed a little. “I’ll be okay.”
“Good. Cause I can’t have you dyin’ on me.” His tone was joking, but you knew that he would be devastated if anything were to ever happen to you. Because over the course of time he had known you, he had grown to deeply care about you; and it was something that surprised the both of you – hell, it even surprised the rest of the group.
"What the fuck!" You and Ben both turned and saw Hughie standing in the doorway of the living room; his facial expression looked as though he was about to blow a gasket.
Ben rolled his eyes out of annoyance. "Do you mind?" You gently lifted yourself off of him, grabbing a nearby blanket and quickly covered yourself and Ben, although the damage was probably already done.
"Yes! Matter of fact I do mind! This is the second night in a row that I woke up because of the two of you!" He yelled; and you could of sworn you saw a vain bulging from his neck. He was pissed.
Ben laughed, amused by Hughie's reaction. "Now you know what it actually sounds like when the two of us fuck. Should of kept your mouth shut this morning kid." He grinned, and gave him a wink.
"Seriously? You guys were loud because of what I said this morning?" Hughie's voice was now annoyed. Ben simply just shrugged at his question. "You are such an asshole."
Ben shrugged again. "Worse has been said."
“Hughie I –” you began, but Ben cut you off.
"But, I can promise you this," he got up from the couch, pulling up his pants in the process as he made his way toward Hughie. He placed a hand on his shoulder, looking him directly in the eyes, grinning. "You better get used to not fucking sleeping cause your friend has one hell of a pussy and mouth on her." You didn't need to see his face to know the absolute pleasure he had saying that to your best friend.
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Tag List: @jackles010378 @syrma-sensei @k-slla @zombie-freak If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!
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caesium-55 · 2 months
Text
—seven days. [ iii ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
author's note: hi hello welcome to part three. i flunked the quiz. lemme know what you think. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. this chapter kinda sux. can't believe i went through a breakup just last week and i still cant write decent post-breakup scenes.
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab hope i didn't forget anyone.
masterlist.
you: *sent a link*
him: ?
him: what's this
you: benefits of crying
you: read it it's enlightening
him: some people do not cry over a breakup you know and that is totally okay
you: why crying helps.
you: 1. tears release toxins, stress hormones to be specific. it is good to let all the bad energy out.
you: 2. it aids sleep. no need for further explanation.
you: 3. crying releases oxytocin and endorphins. i know you don't know what an oxytocin or an endorphin is but they're happy chemicals.
you: 4. crying helps you receive the support you need from the people around you. EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY is okay, max. stop treating it like an STD.
him: it feels like an std
you: pussy
you: emotional vulnerability is a thing and it's normal so stop trying to be a big strong man when you're barely holding it together.
you: you may look fine now but i know you
him: please stop
you: no
you: 5. crying has a self soothing effect. very nice actually. it activates the rest and digest system.
him: what even is that
you: the parasympathetic nervous system
him: ??
you: this is why you shouldn't have dropped out of high school
you: education is important yknow
you: youre already lacking in three forms of intelligence, academic, emotional n social intelligence
him: fuck you im smart
you: fuck you 2 and yeah you're smart but only in geography
you: you probably can't do your taxes
him: im dutch so the company's account department do it for me by default
him: the american system is just weird
you: cant argue w/ u there
you: also, 6. crying helps restore emotional balance
you: see? you need that
you: yknow now that i think abt it you should consider seeking therapy
him: what makes you think i’m not in therapy right now
you: well have you considered getting MORE therapy?
You stand in front of the body mirror, holding the Red Bull polo shirt against your body to see how it looks on you for one last time. On your right sleeve, the word MANAGER is written in bold, white text. Because that was what you were. Just a manager.
In another universe this is not the shirt that you’d be wearing. The MANAGER would have been ENGINEER. In another another universe where your family has been well-off enough to continuously send you to karting school and you would have been the one driving the fucking car by now.
You know, if Max has even tried talking to Horner and suggested that you should be moved into the engineering team, then you wouldn't be stuck wearing this god-awful polo that burned your skin every time you wore it for work. Everybody reduced you as Max’s American manager and because you are American, most of them kind of just assumed that you're dumb, you know?
Does the world even know how smart you are? That you graduated top of your class, got the best thesis award, and that you had finished your masters just this year? Did they even know that a Japanese car company wanted you on their research team? That a NASCAR team wanted you on board as one of their engineers? Does Max even know?
Fuck no. He only knows that you're the best at ironing clothes and organizing his Google calendar and memorizing his entire coffee order by heart. He knew you're good at extinguishing kitchen fires and kicking ass in YSL Opyum heels. You doubt he knows that you can do Calculus in your sleep.
You can take it if the world puts you down for your appearance. But if the world puts you down because of your intellect? That's a different story. You'll take any insult to the face but not to your intelligence.
You have four days left in Monaco so you have begun packing already. You're right, everything did fit into three suitcases. Also, you haven't told Max yet. For some reason, you’re too anxious. Which is shocking to say the least because you never ever gets anxious when it came to Max Verstappen. You wouldn't have lasted this long working alongside Max if you were a pussy.
Max Max Max Super Max Max—
“[Name] here. Need anythin’, champ?”
Hearing a sob on the other end of the line immediately activates your fight or flight response. Your eyes widen and you toss the Red Bull shirt aside. Your legs leads you to the nearly empty shoe rack stationed beside the front door, grabbing the pair of shoes at the very top of the tiny shelf and throwing them on.
“I’m comin’ there. Hang on, Max. You wait for me, okay?”
He doesn't answer, just continuing to sob and the sound absolutely breaks your heart.
You run to his penthouse at a speed that will even put the RB19 to shame. Not even bothering to knock, you barge in and yell his name in the empty halls of his penthouse. You search in the kitchen. He's not there. The living room. Not there either. The room where his simulations are. Not there. You run to his bedroom upstairs.
The door is locked. Dammit. Panic overflooded your system.
“Max, sweetheart, you there?”
No answer, but you can hear a faint sound behind the door if you press your ear against the wood. Firefighter training covered how to open a fucking door when it was locked so this once again becomes a situation where you're grateful that you did that tiring and borderline suicidal volunteer work.
Max keeps a fire extinguisher inside his penthouse as per your advice. There is one stationed in almost every room inside his house. You knew there is one inside his room and another one just at the end of the hallway. You make a quick run for it and once you have the extinguisher in your hands, you run back to his door.
“Step away from the door!” you instructed while your mind mentally calculates your payment plan as you hit the door knob with so much force, the walls tremble at your strength. You're functioning on pure adrenaline. Your instincts only yell one thing and that is: go to Max. No one and nothing in this world will keep you from him. It isn't long until his bedroom door broke down. With one last final kick, it crumbles down from its hinges and you forcefully pry it open and sprint inside.
Max tucks himself in the tiny space in the corner of his huge bedroom, his knees shoved up to his chest. A 181-cm tall man trying to make himself as small as possible.
This is it. This is the bottled-up emotions he's been storing since Abu Dhabi. You cannot say you have not anticipated this. Max is bound to explode sooner or later.
Panic attacks have made a home in Max’s body since he was a child. That's what one gets when they’re parented by someone like Jos Verstappen. He killed Max’s soul and made the boy a machine and for what? To shape a child into a man, a racer that he wanted to be but failed to become at the cost of Max's mental health and childhood.
When Max looks up with that heartbreaking look on his face, you almost crumble. Almost, because you cannot crumble. Not when Max needs you.
Sometimes, you forget what it took for Max to become the champion that he is today. A childhood sacrificed for his dominance on the tracks. A whole lot of hatred from the people to become a WDC. And now, a love lost for his third consecutive championship.
“You came,” his voice cracks towards the end.
Your eyes soften, “You called, Max. Course I’ll come.”
You barely brace yourself for the impact that is Max’s body wrapping around yours in a tight hug. The man have literally launch himself from the floor to you at sixth gear speed. You stumble backwards slightly, holding his bed for support so the both of you won't fall down.
“Max—”
“No,” he whispers and his grip on your tightens as if he's afraid that you’ll slip away if he even tried to give your lungs space to breathe. “Don't speak. Stay.”
What Max wanted, what Max would get. So you shut your mouth, shuffle slightly so he'll be in a more comfortable position and allow him take whatever he wants from you. This will be the last chance he’ll ever do it anyway because in four days time, you’re flying to Texas.
You stay for what is probably hours in that position. Crumbled together on the floor, leaning against the side of Max’s king-sized bed. Your shirt is completely damp from his tears but you cannot even bring yourself to care about it.
“Your shoes…” It's the first time Max has spoken since the start of his meltdown.
“Hm?” you turn your head and your nose nuzzles against his hair, making you scrunch it up a little. His hair is tickling your nostrils. If you lean a little forward, your lips will meet the skin of his temple.
“They’re mismatched.”
Brows furrowed, your eyes move to your feet and see that Max is right. Your shoes are indeed mismatched. On your left is one of your Adidas slides and the other is your slip-on Skechers. You ran from one building to another in mismatched shoes. Fucking embarassing.
“Ignore them.”
Silence.
“You good now?”
“No.”
“Okay,” you say. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”
You hear Max let out a shaky breath, “Just stay for a while. Don't leave me alone.”
“Okay.”
Eventually, you manage to talk Max out of the hug. You're beginning to feel claustrophobic but you do not want to say it out right so you try to negotiate instead. That's how you and Max found yourselves inside his kitchen again. You're trying to replicate your Abuela's cheesecake, which she was known for back in Austin, and Max is…well, he's Max and he’s trying to be helpful in any way he can. If it's some other day, you'd have shoved him out of the way because you prefer working alone in the kitchen. Having eyes on you gives you anxiety. But given today’s circumstances, you do not have the heart to make Max leave so you task him with doing the little stuff like mixing things and throwing shit to the trash can nearby. And he does so splendidly.
“Thank you, by the way.”
“For what, baby?” You internally wince at your own slip of the tongue. Damn that habit of yours of calling people with affectionate call signs. Thankfully, Max seems to have not noticed it.
“For coming here.”
You shrug.
“I only did what you did for me in 2021.”
Again, your breakup with Leo was bad bad. You spent a month crying for a love lost and Max was there for you. For the most part, at least. You want him to focus on winning and winning alone that you pushed him away a lot of times but you appreciated how he was more obedient to your commands, that he held his tongue so he wouldn't piss you off even though he was not liking your words, and that he was considerate of you.
“I hope you won't go into fights though,” you chuckle. “Like I did after my breakup.”
He smiles, shaking his head lightly and you know he's recalling the memory. 2021 is a hilarious year for you, the Red Bull manager. You went viral after getting into a cat fight with a girl and a whole fist fight with her boyfriend.
You and Leo called it quits a week before Monaco and even though it had been four races since then, your heart was still in a quite fragile state at that specific race weekend. One minor inconvenience was enough to ignite a wild blaze of fire within you and nobody could extinguish the flames.
After Silverstone FP1, you were leading Max to the cool down room to brief him with Horner’s relayed instructions and someone had thrown a glass bottle towards the both of you while walking. Originally, Max was the main target of the bottle but you happened to have moved towards the line of trajectory and the bottle landed on your temple, hard enough that you stumbled upon impact.
You barely heard Max’s shocked gasp and shout of panic over the sound of glass shattering on your foot because the only thing you could register was the terrifying feeling of a thick liquid trickling down the side of your face and you didn't even need to see it to know it was blood.
The only thing you saw was red and it was on fucking sight.
Fucking Hamilton fan. Fucking Hamilton. He’s in Max’s way. He’s in your way. He’s the wall that was dividing you from your dream position in the engineering team.
You shoved the iPad you were holding to Max’s hands and marched down to the woman wearing the Merc #44 merch, swiftly jumping over the barricade and grabbing her by the collar of her pristine white Versace top.
The events that followed were too fast. You grabbed her collar. She pulled your hair. You also pulled her hair. Someone pulled her away from you. You tried to grab her, clawing her bare arms with your manicured nails. She screamed. You screamed back. You pulled out some curse words in Spanish as well because cursing her in one language alone is not enough. Her boyfriend appeared. A quick punch to your cheek. You fell to the ground.
The world stood still. There was a sting on your palm because your skin got torn from the hard surface of the concrete ground. You let a bloodcurdling war cry and your Dad would definitely be disappointed at you for using the boxing techniques he taught you for self defense purposes only to fight a guy two times your size.
Everything was a bigger blur from there. But you did remember the sensation of Max’s strong arms around you, stopping you from lunging forward again. He was saying sweet words to your ear to calm you down but your brain failed to intercept them so you could hear the words, could hear his voice, but not understand any of it. You remember Christian Horner's disappointed face that haunted you even two years later. You remembered feeling so terrified as you sat outside Christian Horner’s office waiting for the final verdict while he and Max and a few of the Red Bull higher-ups argued about your future with the team. You remembered hearing Max’s loud snarl on the other side of the mahogany door: “Did you see her face?! There was blood everywhere! On her nose, on her mouth, on the fucking side of her head!” You remembered the girl taking the case to court. You remembered fearing that you’d be sent to jail. You remembered that she lost the case because it was ruled as self defense and your injuries were grave. You remembered discovering that it was Max who used all his power and got the best lawyer to fight your case. You remembered the atmosphere in the Red Bull garage shifting when you entered it a few weeks later and everyone stared the bandages and bruises. Everyone thought one thing: of course, it would also take a monster to manage a monster like Max Verstappen. You remembered Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, apologizing personally for the fight caused by his own fan. He didn't need to but he was so sincere with it that you cried when he handed you the apology flowers. God, how could you even hate this man? Your anger towards him was misplaced.
You’d been living with the guilt ever since, that you were horrifyingly violent for a day, that you were capable of killing for a day. And it could happen again. One day. God, you hoped you wouldn't have to see that day. You knew all your coworkers have been careful with angering you ever since. They're terrified of you even. Max should be, too. But then again, why would he when he already saw the horrors done by his father’s hands ever since he was a child? He was used to it.
“I won't,” he says, smiling at you. “I wouldn't want to add anymore problems for you to clean up.”
But you will not be the one cleaning it up because you resigned. You didn’t tell that to him though. Not right now. He just had a meltdown over Kelly leaving him and the news of his manager leaving him too will destroy him.
The cheesecake is a little burnt when you take it out of the oven but it actually adds more flavor to it so yeah, that's a win.
“We should drink,” you suggest.
“It’s mid-afternoon.”
“We drank at mid-afternoon yesterday,” you give him a blank stare. “With Alex and Charles, remember?”
He doesn't say anything as you make your way to his fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. Max has champagne stored somewhere but you have enough of those expensive champagnes. You need beer. Beer is good. Beer is nice. You're a beer type of person and it is time Max becomes one, too.
“I’m no scientist,” you begin, biting off the beer’s bottle cap. “But according to chemistry, alcohol is solution.”
Well, technically, edible alcohol or ethanol is not a mixture. Rather, it's a pure substance that happens to be a liquid at room temperature and typical atmospheric pressure. Pure ethanol is not a solution. Hard spirits though? That's a solution.
Beer is not a hard spirit. It's more of a fermented drink. But Max doesn't know that, though, so you don't bother explaining the science behind it.
Somewhere down the road, the two of you move to his living room. You use the Youtube app in his TV to search karaoke video and have the bestest time of your lives. You're screaming along some Daddy Yankee and El Alfa songs and Max doesn't know how to speak Spanish so he’s just vibing to it.
At 5 PM, you pull out Max’s expensive vodka bottle. Now this is the real shit. The ten bottles of beer? Those are just pregame. Max is already drunk with just those because he’s a pussy but you’re no pussy, so the only right answer is vodka! Viva la vodka or whatever.
Your throat gets tired of singing and Max gets tired from dancing, too, so you both decide to just go entertain yourselves in other ways. First, you introduced Max to beer-pong. He loses, of course. He sucks at everything not racing. Then, the two of you move onto chess. Max gives up mid-game. He cannot understand the rules. Then, lastly, you move to the billiard table Max owned. He only used it when the other guys are over and you do not even know why he bought it when he sucked at playing billiards.
“You know what Kelly said the morning before the race?” Max suddenly says and you look up at him, brow raising slightly. He’s drunk; his skin is flushed and he is all giggly and smile-y as he sits on the billiard table’s side rail and using the billiard stick as some sort of support stand to keep him from falling. You hope he won't accidentally poke himself. You're no better, too. Ten beer bottles and a few glasses of vodka. But you’re not as drunk as Max, and you still have a straight vision and you can still sink the colored balls into the pockets of the billiard table.
“Hm?”
“That it was unfair for her.”
You raise a questioning brow, “Why?”
“I bought shoes and they don't fit her.”
You blink. He laughs at himself as if he has uttered the funniest joke in the world.
“Three years of relationship gone because of a single pair of shoes,” he continues. “She wanted those shoes, too.”
Kelly….what the fuck?
“But that's okay. She….She made me open my eyes, you know? She made me realize what I truly love.”
“Racing.” It's not even a question. It's the truth.
Max stares at you, long and hard, and you look away first because you fear that if you allow yourself to stare too long, you’ll drown in those beautiful blues. This is enough heartache for the day. No need to add more.
“Hey [Name],” he begins. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”
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liknws · 8 months
Text
skz & introducing you to the others
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⎯⎯ PAIRING: stray kids x reader ⎯⎯ TAGS: fluff, tiny bit of angst, just cute shit ⎯⎯ WARNINGS: mentions of anxiety, lmk if i missed any
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CHAN
absolutely the least subtle of the group
sure the rest of skz knows that he's seeing someone but they respect that he hasn't brought you around the chaos yet
it's not until he name drops you when half asleep do the rest of the boys start teasing him
instantly regrets speaking and tries to bury himself in the couch to hide from the jokes
he'll bring it up to you eventually, almost nervously
"so i was thinking, it's time you met the other's" and you're supportive of the idea. only ever wanted to do things at his pace
you can't hide that you're just as nervous to meet them because if they don't like you what's to say that won't stop the relationship?
thankfully they like you and are welcoming to you when you come by for dinner
seungmin jokingly calls you "mom" one day and now they won't stop with the parent jokes
next step is introducing you to the world but the boys are protective and help keep your relationship private
(they go to ridiculous lengths to make this happen and at one point you have to convince them that JYP knows about you and no one is breaking rules, just that you want to stay out of the public eye for now while you can)
MINHO
you were more nervous meeting his cats (who love you by the way and you get daily pictures of the three from his parents)
oh yeah, you met his parents too and they loved you
he wasn't reluctant to introduce you to skz but he wasn't making it happen fast either. "the longer i can keep you to myself, the better" was always his excuse and you don't argue because it's true
stay ends up learning about you first (by accident) when you're visiting his parents and he posts a photo of you cuddled asleep with the cats
he did it without thinking, just captioning it something vague and cute on the official instagram
chan takes it down quickly but not fast enough and there are already screenshots
you end up meeting the rest of them through video call when chan calls minho to tell him what happened
once it's clear you're not upset at all, you're invited (read: demanded) to the dorms to meet the rest of them when the break is over
minho pretends to grumble that his perfect secret is blown and that he's going to have to share you now because they'll all love you
spoiler alert: he was right
CHANGBIN
i don't think this man knows the meaning of subtle or private if a dictionary was thrown at him
the second you two make anything official he's asking you to come by the dorms and hang out, to come with him to the gym when he's home to spend more time with him
he can't get enough of being around you and that translates to the rest of skz knowing about you pretty early on
the hard part is keeping your relationship private from people outside of the group
he has almost name dropped you so many times during interviews or tours that it's becoming a running joke among the boys who is on "binnie's big mouth duty" that night
it takes the whole group to keep him from saying something that would give you two away
HYUNJIN
while chan and changbin might be the least subtle, hyunjin is easy to tell something has changed
he's singing certain songs with more energy
his personal instagram posts are very boyfriend coded but he doesn't really say or do anything specific
there's a lot of speculation that he might be seeing someone
you're actually the one to blow it
you were just going to drop something off in the dorm while everyone was at practice (he'd cleared it with security and you had your own code specifically for visits without him)
what you didn't expect was han standing in the kitchen half dressed and a tooth brush in his mouth
he screamed, you screamed, he screamed again, security came to the rescue
you're trying to explain who you are until you pull out your phone and call your boyfriend
"han is here and i scared him and now security is kicking me out i just wanted to leave you a present on your bed im so sorry"
you have to switch to video call to prove that you're talking to hyunjin and that yes, you're his s/o and allowed to be there so security lets you back in with apologies
safe to say you don't do the surprise visits in case you give jisung another heart attack
JISUNG
when i say this boy was stressed about it, he was stressed out by you meeting his friends
you had teased him endlessly about how his true soulmate is minho and he's kind of scared that once you meet them you'll think you're not good enough and leave him
so it takes a lot of talks to get him okay with introducing his favorite person in the world to them
you suggest that instead of meeting them all at once to do it one-by-one in whatever order is the most comfortable with him
which makes you wonder if you're going to meet minho first or last
you're surprised however when you meet him first and ji is anxious the whole time
until both you and minho reassure him that it's okay and that because you and him love jisung that why wouldn't they get along
and you do (so much that minho is almost your bff) which is a relief to him
you end up meeting chan and changbin last which you realize is because of how much he really respects their opinions
he's still a little anxious sometimes when you hang out with the whole of skz at once, fearing that the chaos will chase you off but he realizes he has nothing to worry about when you feed that chaos
FELIX
you two made a whole plan of how to introduce you to the rest of the guys
mostly because you wanted it to go perfectly even if he assured you it would no matter what
he helps you get into the dorms right after everyone has left so you can set up snacks and games to have a game night and get to know everyone
he was supposed to be the first one through the door so when you almost throw yourself at changbin instead of your boyfriend you're mortified
they don't let you live that down but it was an effective way to break the ice and it gets everyone laughing right away
the small hiccup passed, you're trying to impress the others as much as you can because you know they mean so much to felix
chan eventually gets you alone in the kitchen to ask if you're okay and you confess in one breath how anxious you are for them to like you
chan assures you that no one could hate you, you're basically felix in another person and they can all see how he looks at you
another situation where the boys are super protective of you two and your privacy, helping to keep you out of public eye as much as possible
SEUNGMIN
literally no one knew this man was seeing anyone until you just showed up to the dorm one day?
truly one of those types who has the private life thing down and while he shares most of his life with skz, he hasn't ever shared your existence with them
that was an agreement you both came to when things were getting serious and you two like having this whole separate life with each other away from everyone else
they're all confused who he's invited to dinner (he's been so picky about the foods and made sure that only your favorites are made)
truly no one knew about you at all, he wasn't any different but when you're around there is a whole other side of seungmin that the boys are shocked by
until you roast him just as hard as he does the others and oh now they see why you two are perfect for each other
they're not really convinced you two are together until you kiss him goodnight at the door and when he turns around he's so pink in the face and biting his lips to keep from smiling
you two are probably the only ones that are able to keep your relationship out of the public eye for so long until seungmin drops one day that he's a dad?????
JEONGIN
he loves teasing about your existence to the others
like you're aware of what he's doing and you think it's funny
"oh just texting my s/o" like the most casual sentence ever that leaves everyone just looking around confused
never once says your name but will bring you up anytime it's natural
he does this so much and it's so normal that he does it on stage during their unscripted part and it takes too long to realize what happened
seungmin realizes first and starts laughing, telling the others while jeongin realizes what he did
you two have talked about revealing your relationship for a long time but the teasing of it was too much fun
so you end up being introduced to skz at the same time that stay learns about you
(you were backstage at the show with the staff. after clearing the idea with staff, you're dragged out on stage hand-in-hand with jeongin)
to say the boys flip when they realize it's you is ridiculous because you've been on so many schedules and shows that they never realized you were right under their nose
that was part of the fun of it to you two but even with that part over you two will still find ways to tease the members together
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hi luv! i hope you're doing great. Saw your recent post and i do have a hc request (since im having a haikyuu brainrot rn 👀), what would you think of making papa!haikyuu hcs 😩. How would these volley boys make as a father! (especially kenma, tsukki and noya) and you can add your favs too 💕sjsjjsjs hope you have a great day ahead!
I'm doing okay, I hope you are doing good and that you have a nice day! I hope you enjoy this post and it is to your liking
Them as fathers
Characters: Kenma, Noya, Tsukki Gender neutral reader, it is not mentioned whether the children are adopted or biological, Kenma’s is longer than the others because i had way too many ideas for him
Kenma Kozume
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First things first: I don’t think Kenma would have more than one kid, if you really wanted to have more he would relent but he is perfectly happy with just one, he thinks 3 people is the perfect number for your little family.
You may think he wouldn’t be that involved in his kids life, but that is a big misconception,
No matter how much work he has to do he makes sure to spend time with you and your kid.
Kenma would never show his child on the internet in any way, he wants to keep his private life private and keep his child safe, he knows how cruel the internet can be, no way in hell will he put his young child into that kind of situation.
Once your child learned to crawl he brought the three starters of Pokémon black and white (gen 5 best games I don’t take criticism) to see which one your child would choose.
Based on what they chose he will be sulky or proud. (I nearly made this into Oshawott propaganda but I didn’t you’re welcome). But at the end of the day he knows that they just choose one based on colours and shapes, he would teach them once they are older how to perfectly choose a starter.
Best believe that as soon as your kid is old enough to understand things he will show them all kinds of (age appropriate) video games.
You enter his gaming room with some snacks for him and you can just see him play Slime Rancher as your kid sits in his lap, eyes glued to what their father is doing.
He already has started a Stardew Valley coop farm for you three to play together one day, he is just waiting for the day your child is old enough.
Now enough video game talk, (though I have so many more ideas about this lol) your child loves it when Kenma reads to them before they sleep, his voice is very soothing to them.
Once they are asleep Kenma stays at their side a bit longer, watching them sleep a serene smile on his face.
Kenma can’t say no to your kid, he will buy them anything they want. You sometimes wonder how he can be so responsible with his money in any other situation, but your child just needs to point at something and he will buy it for them unless you intervene.
Lastly, be prepared for Kenma and your kid to team up against you. Board games? Yeah they are a team even if the game isn’t a game for teaming up. (Monopoly is a nightmare with them, Oh you need a red? Too bad your kid and Kenma are trading it between one another instead of giving it to you) But you can’t really seem to mind when you see the way Kenma and your kid smile. (Unless you are like me and are fiercely competitive in games then you may want to strike Kenma down)
Yu Nishinoya
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Noya would take longer to have children with you, at least until he is done travelling, he does want kids but is aware that travelling the world with them wouldn’t be ideal, he wants them to have a stable home.
Once you two do have kids, he wants at least 2 or 3. Noya wants a big family.
I feel like he is the type of Dad that throws his kids in the air and then catches them (he won’t do it high) and it always gives you a heart attack.
Instead of reading them good night stories he always tells them (embellished) stories from when he travelled the world, for example he once exclaimed to one of your kids how a mermaid vied for your attention but he fought them heroically off.
This does bite him in the ass years down the line once your kids are teens, they will bring these stories up whenever they can to tease him.
Asahi is basically an uncle to your kids, he often visits you and brings the kids many gifts. He loves to spoil them.
And yes Asahi designs the clothes for your kids as well, it often leads to many people asking you and Noya where you got the clothes for them from since they are such a high quality.
Yes, he will teach your kids “Rolling thunder”. No you can’t stop him. Even if your kids don’t play Volleyball they will still know the move.
This leads to your kids looking for his old jersey’s from highschool, putting them on and pretending to  be their dad. No he is not crying, he just got dust in his eye.
Vacations and holidays are important to Noya, while he can’t travel the world with your kids, he will take them on memorable vacations across the country when they are old enough to remember them.
He wants them to have a happy and fulfilled childhood with as many experiences as they can have.
Kei Tsukishima
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When you first brought up having children with him he asked “Are you sure you can take care of a child? Don’t you wanna practise with a pet rock first?” You lightly punched him in the chest for that and he had his signature smirk on his face.
He is honestly neutral on the aspect of having kids, he is not against it but also it was never his dream of having them, so he is fine with whatever you want.
Just like Kenma he would probably only have one kid, with his Job as a Volleyballplayer and everything he isn’t home that often, so if you had more than one kid he would feel guilty leaving you home alone with them.
Tsukki is probably the first one from Karasuno to have a kid, so he is smug about the fact that he is ‘better’ than the others in that regard.
The first team reunion after you two had your child will have him holding his child proudly, while he tells all the others how slow they are for not having kids yet, which has everyone rolling their eyes. He is very proud of his kid so that he will hold it up Lion King style so everyone can admire it.
Unluckily though he miscalculated the height of the ceiling and bonked your kids head on it, which left everyone in the room in a stunned silence (True story from my infant days, my dad did this exact thing with me)
You had made him change every diaper for 2 weeks for the heart attack he gave you with that, even if your kid was fine and wasn’t hurt.
Tsukki and you switch every night who is going to read your kid, while you pick different topics every time, he only ever chooses dinosaur stories to read to your kid.
Speaking of dinosaurs, Tsukki once claimed he had to educate your kid on certain things while you went out grocery shopping, when you came back you saw that the thing he was educating your child on was “The land before time” which made you smile.
Now no matter if the child is biologically yours or adopted, it somehow interhits his sass, which means you will be surrounded by two sassy little pieces of shit (affectionate).
Though you get both of them to calm down their sass by offering them some strawberry cake if they stop, it surprisingly works better on Tsukki then on your kid, who would have thought?
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know me the way you know your childhood scars, like breathing; i wasn't running but if i was i'm glad it was to you.
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tz11 x reader: a small town, a fresh start, a shared heart.
(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), hair pulling, thigh-riding (this is newish), dirty talk (if you're new, welcome!), mentions of previous relationship being awful, i know i'm forgetting stuff but all my typical things. (please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: my favorites - i think jd6 getting traded was exactly what i needed in order to write a tz11 character who is actually a nice guy. i call that the best-friend-getting-a-new-best-friend-who-is-named-cam-york effect. anyways, this is long as hell (14k, anyone?), because i have recently been absolutely so over law school guys. i just want a guy who likes to get his hands dirty and actually has friends. too much to ask? okay. obviously, i got so insanely carried away here, as you will be able to tell. we've got about a million side characters, some of which you will recognize, some of which you will not, because i made them up (tell me why i'm so into the matt/bridget dynamic. could write about just them. maybe i will). you guys know that there will be plot holes and dialogue issues and the likes, but you love me anyways, and i love you for that. tz11 should enjoy this, because i know he will inevitably be back in my bad graces soon enough. next up is someone new (!) because i miss when people used to write about tyson jost left and right. hm, what else? tell me what you think, what you'd like to see. my one year anniversary since my first post is feb. 2 (i actually can't believe how fast it went by, and i'm so grateful for you for sticking with me). so, so much love to you and your snakes. go canucks. until next time.
this was probably a terrible idea, you thought, with your suitcases beside you, your head in your hands at the foot of the bed that would be yours for the foreseeable future. one bed of several at a local inn - local to this town, at least, not local to you.
no, you thought, jittery with unknowing and chance and uncertainty, none of this was familiar to you. not this town in the middle of nowhere, hundreds and hundreds of miles from your hometown, your university. not any of the few people you had interacted with, not the uber driver, the inn keeper, the housekeeping staff.
not one part of this place, this experience, not one part was familiar. but that's what you'd wanted, wasn't it? that was the whole point?
you'd wanted to find yourself, wanted to prove that you could take care of yourself, exist on your own, thrive outside of the bubble that was university.
you wanted a fresh start, away from ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend, their betrayal still fresh, a wound scabbing over on your heart. you wanted to breathe deeply and not worry about who was watching you exhale - a place where nobody knew you, where nobody could whisper about the girl whose boyfriend was cheating on her with her best friend. for three years. she's so stupid, how could she not have noticed?
well, here, you decided, that's what you would get. a humble job as a diner waitress lined up to start tomorrow, a booked room with no check-out date, not a laugh you'd recognize for miles and miles.
this is what you'd wanted, you told yourself, now, loneliness settling in your mouth the way the powder on sour candy does. this is what you have.
completely exhausted from travel and emotional havoc, you passed out that night amidst dreams of fresh starts and trees too tall to see you behind them.
such a lovely image did not last nearly an hour into the next morning, the first day of your new job, just a block or so from the inn you were staying at.
this was part of the reason you had chosen this place for your self-discovery journey, after all - the urgent hiring, competitive wage, amazingly low price for room and board.
you had worked in your university's coffee shop for a year or two to help pay your tuition, so, honestly, how different could it be?
very different, you realized, almost immediately. they were hiring urgently for a reason, which meant there was practically nobody there to train you. one of the line cooks, of all people, just threw you an apron and a name tag to wear over your uniform-compliant black skirt and shirt, mumbled something about a welcome, enunciated something louder about table three needing service.
and so your self-proclaimed new life began completely unceremoniously, with a name-tag that misspelled your name, the smell of waffles and western omelets permeating the air like some grandmother's perfume in an old living room.
at the very least, the business made the time pass quickly, as you paced from table to table, only pausing briefly to introduce yourself to the line, the host, the several curious patrons who asked about you.
"new girl," some impossibly old man husked, "they not have hot coffee where you're from?" he grimaced as he took another sip. "cold as a winter's -"
"okay, that's enough," his companion said, a woman, probably in her mid-twenties, with blonde hair chopped short. she gave you a sympathetic look, like you two were sharing some inside joke. you liked her immediately. "he's had about twelve cups already. don't mind him."
you felt your mouth tick up in a smile for what might have been the first time this morning as you introduced yourself to her, and her father, who you learned everyone affectionately called "old man peters." you learned that the young woman's name was bridget, and she insisted on giving you her number, in case you had any questions, or wanted to get together, or needed anything at all.
your day was already looking up, you thought, as you lifted your sulking ponytail from you back, loose strands curling at the nape of your neck, around your ears. bridget and old man peters bid you goodbye, and then the young host, a boy who stuttered so much over his name that you still didn't quite know what it was, sheepishly alerted you that he had seated a group at the booth in your section.
your flipped to a new page in your notepad as you walked back to the booth, your gaze quickly being tugged up by a drawl-ish voice blurting out "dibs! i call dibs!"
such as exclamation was followed by several groans and one "not fair, you're the only one facing the door."
your brow was slightly scrunched in confusion when you stood at the head of the group's table, four pairs of eyes faced to you in a way that made you feel like a politician about to give a speech.
you cleared your throat, not quite looking anyone in the face. "good morning," you said, "can i get you guys started with some drinks?"
you looked up from your notepad, clicking your pen against the surface of it, taking in the table of - well, you weren't really sure. construction workers, maybe? craftsmen? the four of them had on heavy canvas-like jackets, worn and worked in, highlighter-bright shirts underneath, callused hands that your observant eyes took note of immediately. they were young, too, probably about your age, which made you blush, only a little. these were not the kind of guys you had met in college, the kind who you would have taken a class on freud with, the kind who thought everything with a woman's hand around it was a phallic symbol.
"just coffee," one of them said, short. he tacked on a please when one of his friends smacked him lightly on the back of the head.
you motioned with your pen around the whole table. "for everyone?" you asked, but the question stumbled out of your mouth when your eyes caught on the last of the four, the one on the bench on the right, closest to you.
that sharp face, high cheekbones and cut jaw, should have been so serious, you thought, like some kind of statue, the kind your art history friends would have fawned over in a museum you didn't really want to go to. he should have been so serious, angular like that, but he was anything but. mirth danced in his eyes, so bright they almost sparkled. his full mouth was fixed in a sort of perpetual smirk, so ready to laugh that he was already halfway there. he had the lines around his eyes that told you his full smile would tear you in two.
you were probably staring at him, you realized, flushing deeper as his smirk broke free into something wider, all over his face.
"see, guys," he spoke, that goofy drawl you had noticed on your way over, nothing like the pretentious academics who spoke in circles. he leaned back in the booth. "doesn't matter that i called dibs. she likes me best anyways."
your face scrunched up in some combination of disbelief and hidden delight. "wait," you began, "when i was walking over here, when you said something about dibs," you fixed him with what you hoped was a glare, "you were calling dibs on me?"
he shrugged off his jacket, drawing attention to his wide shoulders, arms thick even through his bright long sleeve. you snapped your gaze back to his eyes, which shimmered, telling you that you'd been caught. "what's the big deal?"
you scoffed, blew a stray curl from your eye line. "you don't call dibs on people," you said.
"yeah, trevor," one of his friends teased, "what's wrong with you?"
"where to begin?" one of the others said, almost lost in thought.
"c'mon, sugar," trevor said, tilting his head, "'s a compliment, yeah?" his gaze rolled down your frame, almost gelatinous, meeting your eyes again reluctantly. "only 'cause you're so pretty, hm?"
you rolled your eyes, fixed your gaze on the one across from him, the one who looked the least engaged. "but, trevor," you whined, stretching out his name like salt-water taffy, "what if i wanted-" you paused, looked down at the blonde just below you.
"matt," he said, practically bored. you nodded your thanks.
"what if i wanted matt?"
his posture grew even more relaxed as he shifted his knees wider under the table. "oh, what if, sugar?" he mused, his eyes so expressive, never off of you for a moment.
"she's gonna spit in your coffee," matt said.
"how about we cut out the middle man and she just spits in my mouth?" he chirped, smirk so telling it made you flush pink.
you mumbled something about decorum before walking away in a flurry of annoyance and excitement. you couldn't really tell the difference, you realized, as you gave the poor host a pot of coffee and asked him kindly to drop it off at the back booth.
you were not something to be called dibs on, that was for sure, and you were here to find yourself, not anyone else, certainly not some guy. even if some guy had soft-looking hair and a witty mouth. even then.
you took a stabilizing breath and got back to work, noting that the back booth only got coffee, only stayed for about twenty minutes before making to leave, heavy jackets loud as they shrugged them back on.
three of the guys called out their thanks and headed out, leaving only a standing trevor there when you approached to settle their bill. thumbing through his wallet, he grinned down at you when you finally stood in front of him again.
he was taller than you thought, you realized, as he now stood at full height. you had to crane your neck slightly to look him fully in the face.
"thought you'd be shorter," you said, honestly, hoping to knock him down a peg, however mean that might have been. but of course he only smirked.
"get that a lot," he drawled, selecting a bill, putting his wallet back in his pocket with hands you had to force yourself not to stare at. "been told 've got the personality of a short guy in the body of a tall one."
you shook your head. of course someone had told him that.
you couldn't really ruminate on that, though, as he stuck the twenty in the front pocket of your apron, as well as something with a slight weight to it, urging an angry pink to the tops of your ears, the feeling of his wide hand warm, so close to you.
you peered up at him, sucked on your teeth as he pulled out his hand slowly, that ever-present smirk almost faltering at your gaze.
"thanks for the service, sugar," he said, and you probably imagined the way the end of his words sounded strained. "see you around, yeah?"
you didn't break eye contact, only let yourself smile back at him before turning and getting back to work, letting the push and pull of waitressing lull you into a rhythm during which it was practically impossible to think too heavily about bright eyes and broad shoulders.
by the end of your shift, you had been officially tired out. you were sure your hair reeked of coffee, and your ankles ached from standing all day.
going to empty your apron, however, right before you left, your hand settled on the bill from earlier, but also several wrapped butterscotch candies. your face contorted as you stared at them, wondering why trevor had put them there.
exhaustion won over curiosity though, as you thanked everyone for your first day and walked the short block back to the inn.
this won't be that bad, you were thinking to yourself as you walked up the stairs. you already had the phone number of a maybe-friend, after all, and as far as jobs went, this one could be a lot worse. good money, good way to meet new people, maybe even something pretty to look at -
as if summoned by your thoughts, when you turned out of the staircase to your hallway, there trevor was, standing on a ladder, looking into the ceiling, some box of tools on the floor.
you narrowed your eyes, bag suddenly feeling heavy on your shoulder. the presence of a new figure drew his gaze to you, and you had to scold your heart, the way it beat like a teenager at the way he looked at you, then. you didn't know him, after all, and you weren't here for anything romantic.
"you followin' me, sugar?" he asked, stepped down from the ladder, making his way over to you. his voice was slow and tired, from whatever he had done that day. you were shocked at the fact that you wanted to know what that was. his gaze shone as he gently took your bag from your shoulder and slugged it onto his own, fell into step beside you. you let him. "tell me you're following me."
you rolled your eyes, but the small smile on your face wasn't going anywhere. "this is where i'm staying," you explained, "so, if anything, you're following me."
you stopped in front of your door, leaned back against it, suddenly in no rush to lock yourself behind it, alone. not when he was on this side of the door, looking like this.
almost weary with hard work, but not weary enough to sour him, just enough to make his movements and expressions slightly slower, lazier, more indulgent, like they were drenched in chocolate ganache. not when he was here, looking at you like this, like you were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.
after years at some preppy, pretentious university, at which ingenuity was the most valuable currency, one you felt you lacked so disgustingly, was it really too surprising that you softened under his gaze? that you wanted to stay in it, just a little bit longer?
"sugar?" he asked, head tilted, and you realized he had been talking.
"sorry, what?" you asked, your voice soft like sponge cake, willing your eyes to focus, your mind to focus harder.
he didn't tease you too badly, though, only let his smile grow sharper with a smirk. "i said that 'm sorry if i hurt your feelings with the dibs stuff," he said, and you were almost confused at his apology. you weren't even upset, and when was the last time someone had apologized to you so quickly after doing something?
your memory cut hazily to your ex, somehow trying to convince you it had been your fault that he cheated on you, that it was something you were lacking that had inevitably led him to do that. you practically shivered, then internally scolded yourself for comparing trevor, whom you had met today, you reminded yourself, to your ex-boyfriend.
"'s fine," you said, waving him off, your back softening further into the door. "didn't really hurt my feelings."
his eyes flashed. "didn't really or didn't, sugar?" he asked, searching your face.
you swallowed, acutely aware of his attention, how it slid down your nose, your cheeks, your jaw, slow and thick as sludge. "didn't."
he gave a nod. "'m sorry anyway," he said, and it came out low. "if you really want to go for matt, i won't stop you."
and part of you wanted to blurt out i don't want matt!
but it was your first day in this place, and honestly, you were still kind of hung up on his apology, and the way it sounded from his chapped lips, and you knew to correct him would be exactly what he wanted.
so you just said "thank you," and were shocked at how gentle it sounded.
"jesus christ, distracted, are we, trev?" the voice of the young inn-keeper called from the end of the hallway. he seemed awfully chipper as he approached, hands in his pockets. "i came up to check on your progress," he said, "or lack thereof, i guess." he looked between the two of you. "now i see who's stolen your attention."
"i'm on my legally-required fifteen minute break," trevor said, half-smiling, turning back to you. "sugar, you know my brother, griff?"
you nodded, suddenly clocking the subtle ways their appearances drew from each other. trevor was taller, griff had a wider face, bigger features. but they had the same eyes, same strong nose, mirroring grins. "he owns my room," you said, dumbly, tiredly.
griff only smiled. "she's had a long day, trev, leave her be."
trevor searched your face again, seemed to find all the proof he needed - your heavy eyelids, drooping shoulders. he gently handed your bag back to you. "i'll see you tomorrow, sugar," he said, as soft as you'd heard him. so soft it startled you. "sweet dreams."
"goodnight," you said to both of them, shutting the door behind you. sleep came easily that night, again, with dreams less so of hiding behind trees and more so of rough hands and laughing eyes.
you were surprised, pleasantly so, at how quickly you fell into a routine in your new home. surprised at how quickly you let yourself call this place that.
maybe it was the way that bridget wasn't just being polite when she had given you her phone number, as she had quickly set up dates to show you all her favorite hiking spots around. your weekly hikes with her became a highlight as she told you more about the town, about her young daughter, about book club, about anything and everything. she was so kind with you that you found yourself so comfortable confiding in her. it felt so easy calling her a friend.
maybe it was the way the town seemed to accept you as one of their own so quickly and genuinely. the line cooks flirted with you in the way only line cooks do (in ways that would not be acceptable outside of a kitchen). they made you food to take home, kept you from starving. the host, harry, began to trust you enough that he asked for your help on homework. the regulars began to recognize you, know your name, ask how you were doing. griff checked in on you, asked if anything was wrong with the room, said you should feel free to use his kitchen anytime (as your room was the simplest kind, and didn't have any cooking appliances). you began to know the names of the streets, the stores, the store owners. your fresh start was starting to feel like just that - a start.
or maybe it was that same group of guys who came in every morning, at the same time, who ordered only coffee and then left in a flush of waves and heavy jackets and called-out salutations. you learned that the one with the curly hair, alex, was the quietest, probably the smartest. his closest friend, cole, was the shorter one, who had the loudest laugh. and matt was warming up to you, you thought. the more you made fun of trevor, the more he seemed to like you.
it was that same group, every day, who came in loudly and left louder, who had paint and dirt smudged on their shirts, their hands. who drank coffee like it was water. who laughed like it was easy as breathing, and maybe that was how it was supposed to be.
and, of course, there was trevor, who, the more you got to know him, the more trouble he became. every day, his "good morning, sugar," would reverberate through your chest, and you would drop a pot of coffee at their table, ask how they were doing, listen for their answers.
some comments about how old man peters' roof is caving in, and he should have told them about it probably a year ago, or about how the police chief's plumbing is fucked, or about how they were going over to fix bridget's sink that day. and, if it was the last one, matt would flush, which would make your eyes widen, would make you pepper him with questions about his crush.
and then, at some point during their morning break, trevor would ask something about you, about how you were, about the way you were wearing your hair, the shoes you were wearing, the book you had been reading the week before. and then, as he left, without fail, he would slip a bill and several butterscotch candies into your apron pocket, each time his hand growing heavier, more significant as it settled so close to you.
it didn't particularly help your small crush that you saw him everywhere. he was always fixing something - in the diner, at the inn, in the park downtown. you couldn't escape him and his deft hands, his working mind, his strong frame and easy laugh and addictive smile.
he was everywhere, so of course he would be here, at the grocery store, after your shift one day. you were roaming the isles, looking for a specific kind of vinegar, your basket hoisted up onto your hip, when a low whistle made you turn. you were met with that lazy smirk, your favorite one of his, the nighttime one, the tired one. he approached you, his work boots heavy on the ground.
"you followin' me, trevor?" you asked, repeating what become something of an inside joke between the two of you.
"maybe," he said, looking down at you, shimmering eyes framed by long lashes. "do you want me to be following you, sugar?"
you hummed, noncommittal, some harmony between the fluorescent lights above, the whir of the fridges the next isle over. you turned back to the shelving, resumed your survey of the contents. "your brother offered his kitchen for me to use while he's out tonight," you said, not looking at him.
"did he?" trevor mused, an almost undetectable bite in his tone.
you nodded, eyes alight with excitement. "been eating pancakes and chicken noodle soup for weeks now," you said, referring to what the line cooks sent you home with. "swear my mouth's watering just thinking about something different." you ran a thumb along your bottom lip, as if checking for spit.
if you had been looking at trevor, you would have see his shallow swallow, the way his eyes tracked your movement, how his gaze hung from your mouth like lacy ribbon. he cleared his throat.
you finally located the vinegar you wanted, on the very top shelf. pushing yourself up on your tiptoes, you reached the tips of your fingers for the bottle, only just out of reach.
trevor only chuckled as he grabbed the bottle easily, took the basket from your hip and into his own hand, dropping the vinegar into it.
"i can carry that, you know," you said, suddenly wishing you had something to do with your hands.
"i know," he said, smug.
you rolled your eyes, huffed a thank you, anyways.
"so, what're you making?" he asked as you led him from aisle to aisle, loading your basket with ingredients.
you explained to him how, in college, this one salad had been your absolute favorite to make when you needed something that made you feel good. something about the combination of arugula, kale, chickpeas, sweet potato, whatever other vegetables you had on hand, sometimes chicken, if you were feeling fancy, something about the simple dressing of oil and vinegar - it was perfect. no meal left you feeling as good as this one did.
and it was how you had made it entirely on your own, too - it wasn't some fancy steak dinner your ex had buttered you up with after a fight, it wasn't boxed brownies shared with your old best friend the night before you found out - no, this was all you.
when you looked back at trevor, there was something molten in his gaze. "sounds amazing," he said, low, like he didn't want anyone else to hear.
you tilted your head, let your smile slant across you face, scrunched up your nose, teasing. "would you want to join me for dinner, trevor?"
his face split into a grin. "i would," he said, "i would want to, please."
and so you found yourself fumbling around someone else's kitchen with an audience, washing kale and peeling sweet potatoes with fingers that twitched towards the figure across the counter, practically irritated that they weren't touching him.
you scolded your hands to behave, which became easier as the night went on, as conversation flowed like cranberry juice, the flavor of it lingering in your mouth just the same.
he might ask you about how the diner was going, to which you would look around as if to make sure no one was there. his eyes would flash. you would miss this.
"harry's been making some real progress in precalc," you would say from behind your hand, speaking of the host, whom you had come to view very fondly. "and you didn't hear it from me, but i think he's going to ask his friend jason to the school dance next weekend."
you would be flushed with excitement and pride, and trevor wouldn't be able to get much beyond that, honestly, the way it lit you up from the inside out.
but then he would clear his throat, and lean forward on his hands, and tell you that if harry needed help asking jason to the dance, he knew exactly the best crew for the job.
"don't tell me you're talking about your rag-tag group of misfits," you would say, cocking a brow as you dressed the kale and arugula.
and he would feign offense, place a broad hand over his heart. "i'll have you know that this group of misfits went 16/16 in high school dance invitations," he would say. "all four of us, all four years."
you might roll your eyes. "real band of heartbreakers, were you?" you would say.
and laughter would shine behind his eyes like christmas tree lights behind store windows, and he would stretch his arms above his head, lazily, comfortably. "'course not," he would say, his voice the sort of raspy that comes with stretching, "only alex."
and this would pull a real laugh from you, as you tossed everything together, the kind of laugh that rung in his ears, that made him pleasantly dizzy.
as the night passed on, time moving altogether too fast and the kind of slow that oozes, you would learn about how he grew up in this town, how he went to trade school, how he had had the same friends his entire life. you would ask questions about if he ever felt the desire to leave (not really), how he got into manual labor (he never really felt like he was that good at anything else), what his family was like (close, but not overbearingly so).
and, in turn, between bites and sips and laughs, you would tell him about how you grew up (humbly), what school was like (hard, but rewarding), how you ended up here (cheap housing, good job, close community). and maybe you would actually tell him about the ultimate betrayal you had faced before you left, why that made you want to be somewhere, anywhere else, somewhere where you had no choice but to make a life entirely for yourself.
at the mention of your ex his jaw might clench, his mouth twitching ever so slightly. he would mutter something about nonsense, and you would smile.
he would ask questions about your family (just your dad and you), your favorite parts of your life here (hikes with bridget, homework sessions with harry, bickering with old man peters).
and he would pout, at that, his bottom lip looking so positively delicious it stole your breath. "'m not your favorite, sugar?" he would plead, joking.
maybe you would really look in his eyes, then, find something hot, tilt your head. "you wanna be?" you would ask, breathier than you intended.
and he would smirk, somehow flipping the dynamic on its head entirely with only a single expression. "you know i do, sugar," he would tell you, low and so loaded you would blush.
it might scare you how easily you let him in, how quickly you were warming up to him. his pretty face might scare you, because pretty faces had hurt you before. there had been no one prettier than your old best friend, after all, and look how that turned out.
so, when the night grew viscous, and the meal was long over, the dishes done, a portion for griff packed up in tubberware on the counter, when he walked you upstairs to your room, both of your steps slow, reluctant, when his gaze lingered on your lips and the smell of him grew distracting, the height of him all-consuming, even then, even though you wanted to, you didn't kiss him. you only bid him a gentle goodnight.
"thank you for tonight," he would say, instead, looping his arms around your neck, hugging you close to his chest. this was so much worse, you thought, as you breathed him in, wrapped your own arms around him and squeezed. the way he held you like he was afraid what would happen if he let go. his hair so messy and his tone so genuine it almost hurt. "sweet dreams, sugar," he said into your hair before pulling away.
even though, that night, you might have dreamed about how his rough hands might feel as they held your soft cheek, how his chapped lips might slot against your glossed mouth. even if you woke up, that next morning, practically sweating. not the sweetest of dreams.
today was your day off. you had plans later with bridget, but you decided to book a haircut and blowout at the salon downtown, since you had the whole morning to yourself. the salon was one place you hadn't been in, yet, and you hadn't had a haircut in months, so you figured now was a good a time as any.
the bell above the door rang when you stepped inside, but no one seemed to notice over the shrill thrum of hair dryers, sinks, and the steady stream of gossip that you appeared to have walked in on.
"she told me her trevor went on a date, julia," one of the stylists said seriously, her eyes expressive as she sectioned her client's head of long curls. "won't stop rambling on and on about her, she says."
your heart jumped in your chest at trevor's name, sunk accordingly. he had been on a date? you weren't sure why you had assumed you were the only girl in his life at the moment, but it stung, nonetheless. you pulled at a thread on your long sleeve, eyes down.
you can't be upset, you told yourself, don't you dare be disappointed-
"oh, honey, how long you been waiting?" one of the stylists called out, making her way over to you and the front desk. "swear you have to throw somethin' at one of us when you come in or we'll never stop talking." she had such an easy way of speaking, a comfortable posture, a genuine face.
"sorry," you said, looking around, still recovering from what you'd overhead.
she just waved you off with a smile. "it's us motormouths who should be apologizing," she said before introducing herself as ginger. "now, what name is your appointment under?"
you told ginger your name, and as soon as you did, her eyes sailed up to meet yours again, wide and bright. she snapped her fingers, getting the room's attention. "you're the doll who stole our baby trevor's heart!"
you blushed furiously, felt the words in your mouth twist and tangle like a toddler's hair. "me? no, that can't be right," you said. there's no way last night counted as a date, you thought. there's no way he's talking about me.
the other stylist just squealed as you were led to a chair. "of course it's you! look at her, julia," she said to the woman in her chair, practically elated, "what a treasure!"
your blush wasn't going anywhere any time soon.
"that boy's been talkin' to 's mama 'bout you, honey," julia said from her chair, her expression knowing. "he's just about smitten, she says."
"and a mother always knows," ginger said, emphasizing her words with hairbrush gestures.
so you spent your appointment getting a couple inches off, hearing about the trouble trevor used to get in when he was younger (apparently alex used to be the biggest troublemaker, though), hearing about how trevor just went around fixing whatever anyone needed fixing.
"swear that sweet boy wouldn't charge a dime if this town'd let him," ginger said as she worked long layers into your hair, "we have to sneak payment into his pockets, and even then he tries to give it back!"
your cheeks burned, your heart heavy with affection as she blew out your hair, leaving it soft and smooth. you paid, said goodbye for about ten minutes, found out just how hard it was to escape salon conversation.
"now go show off for our baby, honey!" someone called out the door after you, making you laugh. you guessed that all the stereotypes about small town hair salons were true.
you went on your weekly hike with bridget, who gave you that understated grin when she saw you. "looking good," she said, bumping her shoulder into yours. "trev doesn't stand a chance."
you rolled your eyes. "didn't get my hair cut for him."
she laughed. "i know," she responded, "but all anyone can talk about this morning is your date last night."
you couldn't help but scoff good-naturedly. "i can't believe people already know about this," you said, "it was literally last night, and it wasn't even a date."
she waved you off. "nobody cares about the logistics. even my girl was moping to me about it. she's got a little crush on her skating instructor."
"trevor teaches your daughter how to skate?" you asked, having never heard of this.
she nodded. "he's the highlight of her week," she said, her eyes soft, picturing her daughter's unabashed smile.
"get in line," you mumbled, covering your face with your hands.
why was everyone so intent on revealing adorable information about trevor to you today? didn't they know he already took up enough of your daily headspace?
"can't somebody tell me he hates animals, or something? or that he's really pretentious about art? or that he has, like, some weird fetish?"
bridget laughed. "sorry, babe," she said, "he's the town's sweetheart."
you were still reeling with all of this information when you got back to the inn, your face rosy from the outside chill, your body pleasantly awake from your walk.
you began up the stairs, humming to yourself, ready to collapse onto your bed, maybe catch up on some reading.
"you followin' me, sugar?"
you looked up, immediately, feeling your pulse in your neck, in your teeth.
there he was, of course, there he was, painting the railing in the stairwell, the sharp smell of paint faint in the air.
all dirtied up from the day, that slouch that only appeared in the late afternoon, that crinkly smile, all of it made him almost too good to be real.
"maybe," you said, like second nature now, after all those times before, his face forcing a tiny smile from your mouth.
you stood just in front of him now, held your breath as he reached up, twirled a strand of your hair around a finger. he let out a low whistle you felt in your stomach.
"lookin' awful pretty tonight," he said, not much more than a whisper as he thumbed the soft ends of your freshly-cut hair.
his words settled like thick caramel on your tongue. "thank you," you mustered, your mind spinning with all of the wonderful things you had heard about him, today.
he bent down to one knee in front of you as you collected your thoughts. "um, what are you doing?" you said, strained, dumb.
he looked up at you through those girlish lashes, smirk heavy on his perfect face. he tugged your foot closer to him. "shoe's untied," he said, gesturing to your sneaker. "may i?"
you blinked at him before nodding, because what alternate universe was this? you tried to imagine any other man you'd known willingly getting on the floor for you, just to tie your shoe. you couldn't.
he tightened your laces with nimble hands.
you cleared your throat. "heard something funny today from the ladies at the salon," you told him, trying to focus on something other than his proximity.
he hummed. "nothin' good, i'll bet," he mused, "ginger loves a good story."
"it was a good story," you said, reveled in the way his expression softened, giving you the courage to press on. he began to tie a double knot. "'bout how you're tellin' your mom we went on a date."
he pulled the bow tight, looked up a you for a second, a guilty, childish grin on his face, caught red-handed. you extended a hand to him, helped him back to his feet.
"oh, yeah," he said smugly, folding his arms across his chest, leaning back against the wall, easy, comfortable. "like how you asked me to dinner, and then cooked for me, and how it 100% was a date-"
you laughed, shook your head. "it was not!" you said, "i never said it was a date!"
he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "call it wishful thinking, then, sugar."
and you couldn't focus too much on what he meant by that, so you just shook your head again. "you're too much," you said, wanting it to come out teasing, but instead there was a breathy sort of desperation behind it.
"yeah?" he asked, that smirk present as ever. you had grown so close to him without realizing it, now just a step away. him leaning back against the wall, you right in front of him, looking up at him.
you nodded, swallowed, your blood hot, your skin prickly, alive.
his eyes fixed you in place, teasing. "too much for you, sugar? can't take it?"
you bit your lip to stop any sound from escaping you, because everything seemed entirely too loud, then. you could hear your heartbeat, you swore you could hear his, the radiator could have been screaming at you. you didn't dare think about just how much you wanted to take.
to stop yourself from doing something much more serious, you simply reached your hand forward, swiped at a spot of paint on his face with your thumb.
your touch against his brow bone felt like an exhale, like melting wax. you could feel his warm breath on your hand as you pulled it back, but then he was looking at you, like that, like you were so, so special, like he would have doused his face in paint just to have your hands wipe it all away, and were you imagining the way his gaze grew fiery?
"trev! old man peters says his sink's still leaking!"
griff's voice rattled down the stairwell, smothering the flames in your eyes, if only just. just enough to break the spell, to pull away, to tell him you'd see him tomorrow for his coffee break, for his hungry gaze to follow you up the stairs until you were out of sight.
and so the routine continued, more butterscotch candies slipped into aprons, more pestering his friends, more slyly asking bridget what she thought about matt (she was deflecting, you'd observed, delighted). more helping with homework and reading in bed and cooking and snapping at old man peters to stop leaving his watch behind.
more stolen touches and longing glances and sideways smiles, backwards hats and work gloves stuffed in pockets, damp hair sticking to your neck, the hem of your skirt brushing against your thigh. more flame and softness and sweetness drenching your frame as he said hello, and goodbye, and sweet dreams, and anything else. that coil inside of you twisted tighter and tighter as you wondered what exactly was holding you back, what exactly you were waiting for.
one day, after work, there was a knock at your door. you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little bit disappointed when you opened it.
"you coming?" griff said, "town hall meeting starts in 5."
you scrunched up your nose. "town hall? what, is it required?"
he smiled, kind. "no, but they're usually a good time," he said, "and trevor's going to be there."
you had your jacket in your hand already. "he's not the reason i'm coming," you said, following him out the door and down the street.
"i won't tell anyone," was all griff replied, his smile understanding and gentle.
you had never been to a town hall meeting before. you'd guessed that the closest thing you could imagine was a student government meeting, which you'd been a part of in college.
this seemed much more laid back, though, taking place in the middle school gymnasium. it looked like almost everyone from town was here. you noticed old man peters, sitting with bridget, her daughter buzzing around from person to person. the salon ladies were talking to pretty much everybody. there was harry, sitting next to his mom. you approached bridget as griff went up to talk to the fire chief, one of his close friends.
soon enough, the meeting began, the first issue on the docket being the prospect of a stoplight on the intersection of drysdale avenue and york street.
bridget yawned, "same issue every meeting," she whispered to you. "always divided down the middle." this time was no different, you observed, the parents in the crowd seemed completely for the stoplight, the older crowd significantly against.
"next issue, a write in from the community, quote," the representative began, reading from notecards, "should the implementation of the 'dibs' rule be observed seriously, unquote." he cleared his throat, looked up to the crowd. "thoughts?"
you stifled an embarrassed laugh, held your face in your hands as bridget rubbed soothing circles in your back. "is this actually a real-life discussion topic?" you asked, incredulous.
"just let them have their fun," she whispered in a way that made her smile evident.
"i think 'dibs' is outdated and juvenile," a woman said, "sets a bad example for the kids."
the man up front was taking notes.
"i think it's cute," bridget piped up from her chair.
"me, too!" her daughter giggled, jumping into her lap.
"alright, i've got two for cute, one for bad influence," the man said, "anyone else?"
"i think it's lame," a very matt-like voice said, gruff, short.
"one for lame," the scribe said aloud.
"well, i think you're lame," that goofy drawl called out, making you pull your head up, look around until you spotted him, near the front. he was swatting matt on the back of the head. "and i learned it from alex, so take it up with him."
his curly-haired friend hid a smirk. "it's a high school move," he explained to the crowd, before turning to face trevor. "we haven't done it in years."
"until now," trevor amended, "but you guys understand. you've seen her. you've talked to her."
ginger put her hand over her heart as if swooning.
someone coughed. your face was burning up. bridget nudged you gently.
"she's here, trev," griff said, to which the fire chief let out a hearty laugh.
"really?" he turned to face the crowd, his voice excited, hopeful, searching. "where are you, sugar?"
you raised your hand, of all things, immediately wanted to smack yourself. "hey," you said, mousy.
"hey," he parroted, mocking, but of course not maliciously. his smile broke you apart.
and then you were having a conversation with several rows of people in chairs between you, on a gymnasium floor.
"you're the only one with the dibs curse on you," he said, "so what's your take on it? should we abolish the practice for good? is it outdated?"
you swallowed, were looking only at him as the scribe sat at the front, pen at the ready. "well," you began, "it works, from what i can tell." his smile put you together again. "so it can't be that outdated."
his eyes shone, only for you. "you heard her," he said, "case closed."
"are we actually still talking about this?" old man peters asked, to bridget, but much too loudly.
the rest of the meeting passed, absolutely delivering on laughs and nonsense, as promised.
"last thing before we go," the man said, "does everyone have a ride to the away game tomorrow?"
you leaned over to bridget. "what's that?"
"the rec hockey team is away this weekend," she whispered.
"rec hockey?" you said, confused, "like kids?"
she shook her head. "like kids, yes, but not kids."
"sugar, do you have a ride?" trevor's voice rang clear against the mumbled chatter of the room.
you looked up, met his eyes again. "uh, i don't think i'm going?" you said.
there was a collective gasp, followed by silence. your eyes widened. "babe," bridget whisper-screamed at you. "everyone goes."
you cleared your throat, realizing your grave error. "well, then i don't have a ride."
"you can ride with me, honey," ginger said, sweetly, with a warning in her eye.
"trevor has to go super early since he's playing," bridget whispered from next to you. you nodded, signaling that you had heard her.
"thank you!" you called out.
rides were sorted, the meeting ended, everyone saying their goodbyes, folding chairs scraping against the waxy floor. trevor and his friends caught up with you and bridget on your way out.
trevor slung a heavy arm around your shoulders that you couldn't help but lean into. he smelled like sawdust and something citrusy. "i didn't know you played hockey," you said, looking up at him curiously, not letting yourself ruminate on how good he felt slotted against your side.
he shrugged.
bridget scoffed. "he's good, too," she said, "i hate to pump his tires, but only the best teacher for my baby girl." she pressed a kiss to the cheek of her smiley daughter, whom she had hoisted up onto her hip. "all of them play," she said, a vague gesture to the group. "lit it up in high school."
"not all of them are as good, though," trevor said, which caused some annoyed groans.
"what about heartbreaker alex, over here?" you teased.
"heartbreaker alex has grown up since junior year," alex said, soft spoken. "and it's not my fault my hair looks like this."
the shortest friend of the group, cole, the one with the loudest laugh, whom you had come to rely upon for book recommendations, put a hand in line with his brow bone, as if blocking out the sun to search for something.
"what are you doing?" alex asked.
"oh, me?" cole said, "just looking for all the girls you must be getting, since you've still got all that hair."
alex rolled his eyes, the group laughed.
"what about you, matt?" you asked as trevor held open the door, all of you stepping out into the night air. "i've heard the team's got a perfect record for dance invites. any high school stories?"
matt didn't say anything for a second, but bridget laughed. "you're really telling people that, trev, as if i didn't ask him freshman year?" she nodded towards matt, who was actually blushing, you thought, but the dark made it hard to tell. "was a tough sell, eh? he was so quiet when i asked i thought he pretending that i wasn't there."
"oh, we remember," cole said, tone alight with understanding. "funny how we grow up, but so much stays the sa-" he blew out a breath when matt elbowed him in the gut.
you smiled to yourself. "i'll see all of you tomorrow, for the game, then?" you said, the inn now steps away.
goodbyes rang out, and you made to remove yourself from trevor's embrace, but he only spun you back into his chest, pulling you close, his arms now wrapped around your back, your nose against his breastbone. you breathed in, melted into him, squeezed him back.
"did you mean it?" he said, soft, so only you would hear him.
you mumbled your confusion into his chest.
"when you said it was working? did you mean it?"
your heart jumped, his words so vulnerable you couldn't look at him. "i meant it," you whispered into his bright shirt. "you're working on me, trevor." you felt his lips brush against your hair, featherlight, before he let you go.
"sweet dreams, sugar," he said, and you walked back to your room with wobbly legs and an overactive heart.
the following day, ginger graciously gave you a ride to the next town over. she, of course, chatted you up the entire time, which you welcomed.
"i know i must be super late to the party here," you said, carefully, picking at your nails, "but what's the story behind bridget and matt?"
ginger tsked. "we're a bad influence on you, honey," she said, taking a right. "you're gonna be a big mouth like me in no time."
you laughed. "it's only 'cause matt's so obvious about it," you told her, "they've known each other forever, and i learned yesterday that she asked him to their freshman dance." you trailed off, hoping that ginger would take your cue.
she nodded, smiled fondly. "our bridget was always such a spitfire," she said, "always going for what she wanted. smart as a whip, too, but you know that."
you nodded. you did.
"and she could have had anyone, but she wanted our matthew, and he wasn't a sight for sore eyes then, like he is now."
is matt good-looking? you'd thought to yourself. you surely hadn't noticed. perhaps you were distracted. perhaps your gaze always wandered.
"but bridget marched right up, asked him to the dance, and the poor boy was so stunned it took him a full minute to say yes." she shook her head, lost in the memory.
"did they ever date, like for real?" you asked, enraptured.
she frowned. "no, i don't think so, at least. bridget was always bouncing around flings, trying out guys for a few weeks, then cuttin' 'em loose." her smile grew wistful. "then she had her darling girl, middle of senior year. dad booked it, never looked back. don't think she's been with anyone since."
you frowned, too, hating the thought of someone abandoning your friend, as lovely and wonderful as she was. what a privilege it would be to be a part of her family.
"and matt?" you asked, as the car pulled into the parking lot. you ran your palms up and down your jeans.
ginger whistled. "that boy's been starry-eyed over her since grade five," she said, "but me and the girls aren't surprised he thinks he doesn't have a shot. his self-esteem's never been the highest, not like the rest of 'em."
"not like cole, who swears he could land a plane, if it came around to it?" you said, grinning.
ginger laughed. "exactly. and not like alex, who was never without a girlfriend, and not like your trevor, who's never needed anyone to tell him how great he is."
you sucked on your teeth. "but we do, anyways," you reminded her.
"that we do, honey," she finished, putting the car in park. "let's go cheer on those knuckleheads, shall we?"
the rink was colder than you thought it would be. the walls were practically made of aluminum foil. you wrapped your arms around yourself, blew out a foggy breath, followed ginger to the away section, absolutely packed with everyone you recognized.
as you settled into the stands, your eyes immediately searched for trevor.
"he's number 11," bridget said, coming to stand next to you.
you rolled your eyes. "and what number is matt?"
she shoved you, playfully, but when spoke, it was bashful. "12," she said. "cole's 22 and alex is 39. police chief is 8, fireman spence is the goalie, and griff is the ref."
you furrowed your brow. "isn't that a conflict of interest?" you asked.
she huffed in a laugh. "if anything, it's a disadvantage for us."
the game started, and you realized very early on that maybe trevor hadn't been lying when he said not all of them are as good. he practically flew around the ice, graceful, mesmerizing. and it was obvious that he wasn't looking to show off, either, that he was just playing to have fun, and if he really wanted to, he could run the scoresheet up into oblivion.
you could feel bridget smile beside you. "yeah," she sighed. "it's pretty crazy."
"he could play professionally," you breathed.
she shrugged. "he's happy," she said simply.
cole scored twice, the other team clawed their way back in. griff threw alex in the box for boarding, which old man peters, even with his granddaughter in his lap, would not let go, keeping a one-man ref, you suck! chant going long after the power play was over.
"does he know it's griff?" you asked bridget.
"of course he does," she said. "he'll buy him a beer after this."
such was small town life, you supposed.
in the end, fireman spence made some crucial saves, keeping it tied late into the third. with about a minute left, trevor made an unreal, practically magical pass to matt, who finished it off in a one-timer that sunk into the back of the net.
the crowd erupted. you and bridget jumped up and down, holding each other as the goal horn sounded.
the team went through the line in celebration, then skating by the away section before the next face off.
trevor blew you a kiss. you shook your head at him, but couldn't wipe the smile off of your face.
the game ended in a win, and the town migrated over to the local bar. you busied yourself with harry's mom, telling her that no, she had nothing to worry about, yes, harry was quiet, but he was kind as anything, and that was most important.
everyone cheered when the team walked in. you clapped along with them, feeling a smile tug at your lips as soon as your eyes locked on trevor.
his eyes found yours immediately, that lazy grin following as he squeezed past people to get to you.
you met him halfway, a hazy neon light over your heads, making color dance in his eyes like starlight. his long hair was damp, curly at the ends in a way that made you want to reach up and tug at them.
"speechless, eh, sug?" he teased, shrugging one shoulder with exaggerated arrogance. "i know, my play tends to evoke that reaction from people. i-"
you scrunched your mouth to the side, smacked him lightly in the chest. "god forbid i try to think of something nice to say to you," you said, smiling. you made to pull you hand back, but his warm, wide palm came up to cover it, holding it against his chest.
you exhaled, looked up at him, unsure.
"what was your favorite part?" he asked, those shining eyes careful. "did you like cole's between-the-legs? or maybe my last assist?" he winked. "always a crowd favorite."
suddenly confidence welled up inside of you, a vault. but we tell him anyways, you had said. that we do.
tell him, the overhead lights whispered.
"when you blew me a kiss," you said, reaching your free hand up to cup his jaw, textured under your touch from his five-o'clock-shadow. "that was my favorite part."
flame crept into his gaze abruptly, suddenly, shockingly. he settled his other hand on your hip, pulled you closer to him, his grip making your breath catch. "was it?" there was a roughness to his voice that felt tangible.
you nodded slowly, speaking to his mouth. you weren't scared. you weren't running. you weren't stalling. your skin was humming, your blood felt hot. he was so perfect against you, his hand over yours somehow the most intimate touch you could remember.
he ducked his head to yours, just a breath away, so you could see the gold in his eyes. "let me do you one better," he rasped, waiting for your single nod before finally crushing his mouth to yours in a kiss that felt like early sunrises, slow and meaningful and only the beginning.
you pushed up onto your tiptoes, looped both of your arms around his neck, tugging him closer, closer, as he kept one hand on your hip, the other grasping the back of your neck, keeping you from collapsing into him.
kissing your ex had felt almost robotic, scientific, stiff in an endearing way at best, stiff in an awkward way in reality.
there was nothing stiff about this, nothing scientific about him. this was all feeling, all malleable, all calloused hands and chapped lips. he kissed like someone who had to work for it, like someone who didn't have to prove anything to you but wanted to, anyways.
just that was enough for you to sigh against him, the fact that there were other people around the only thing stifling your soft moan.
he smiled into your mouth, like a low-spoken secret between the two of you. "taste like butterscotch," he mumbled against your lips, pulling away only just enough to make sure his words didn't disappear unheard down your throat, almost drowsily. "you like those candies i give you, sugar?"
your chest rose and fell against his. the low music in the background roared in your ears, the neon light making him look like some stained glass thing worth kneeling for. "like 'em because you leave 'em for me," you said, your fingertips tracing the top of his spine.
his eyes shimmered. "can i tell you something?"
you nodded.
he hummed, gave a guilty sort of smile. "gave 'em to you because i didn't like the taste of 'em," he started, smirk growing wider. "and i wanted to convince myself to hold off on kissin' you. not to rush you, you know."
you understood, and your swollen lips quirked at the story, but your eyes flashed with something like hurt. "you don't like the way i taste, trevor?" even if it was his own doing, you suddenly wanted to brush your teeth.
"that's the thing." he ran a steady thumb along your hairline. "think my plan backfired, 'cause butterscotch's my new favorite flavor." his thumb reached your chin, tilting it up to his mouth again. "can't get enough of it," he murmured, a man possessed, barely audible as he kissed you again, this time with a softness that cut like a dagger.
you swore your head was still spinning the next day. what was supposed to be just another shift at the diner quickly turned into a flurry of questions, of neighbors looking for a side of gossip with their french toast, of line cooks swearing there was something different about you.
it was hard to answer anyone, to do anything, honestly, when it felt like you were floating, like your head was far, far away, up in the clouds.
harry gave you a fist bump when he saw you. old man peters told you in a stern tone that public bars were no place for fornication, to which an ecstatic bridget patted his shoulder and reminded him that it was only a (sort of) innocent kiss.
she pulled all the details out of you, lit up as you flushed and stumbled over your memories.
the police chief made some joke about that boy being a bad influence when you accidentally brought him whole milk instead of soy milk for his coffee.
ginger and the girls were like some insatiable beast that only let you be when you reminded them that if they kept you much longer, the diner would go hungry.
of course, your heart instinctively fluttered when that tell-tale gust of loud laughter burst through the door, along with the drag of heavy work boots, the shuffling of canvas outerwear, the shoving of gloves into back pockets.
you made your way to the table with their regular pot of coffee, met trevor's dancing gaze almost sheepishly.
"morning, guys," you said, smiling at all of them.
they chimed their chorus of good mornings, pouring their coffee into mugs themselves, as they always insisted on.
"so, what's new?" cole asked, his head resting on his fists. "probably nothing, right?"
alex and matt hid their laughs.
you rolled your eyes, smiled nonetheless. trevor had a hat on, today, making his hair curl out from the bottom of the brim. you tucked a curling lock behind his ear, ran your nails soothingly along the hair at the nape of his neck.
anyone watching would have seen the way his gaze melted like milk chocolate, how his shoulders softened, his posture relaxing completely into your small touch.
he looked up at you, eyes so soaked in affection it spilled down his face like mascara-stained tears. "i missed you," he said.
his friends groaned, as if they'd heard this a million times. suddenly, with a blush, you had a guess as to what his morning had been like. perhaps he had been just as distracted as you.
"i missed you, too," you said, because it was the truth.
"he almost dropped a crate on my foot this morning," matt said, bitterly.
you put a hand over your heart. "how tragic." you looked up, making eye contact with your friend across the diner. "hey, bridge! matt almost hurt his foot this morning. has science found a cure for that, yet?"
she huffed a laugh as she approached, shook her head at matt when she stood in front of the table. she held the back of her hand to his forehead, as if checking for a fever. "are you sure you're okay, sweet boy? this sounds serious," she joked.
matt had paled. trevor pulled you into his lap and you hid your laugh in his collarbone.
"'m fine," matt bit out, to which bridget smiled.
"thank god, that was close," she said. her gaze wandered, landed on something out the window. she squinted. "did somebody dig up some of the flowers outside?" she asked.
"dig?" alex mused, "maybe rip is a better word, eh, trev?"
"right. almost forgot." trevor held you in his lap with one hand, reached the other to the side. suddenly several flowers were being held in front of you, thin, spidery roots still intact. "sugar, will you go to the valentine's day skate with me?"
you smiled, wide and toothy, touched one hand to his face as the other grasped the humble, earthy bouquet. "of course i will, handsome," you said, "what's the valentine's day skate?"
"pta event, tomorrow," bridget said, looking on with interest. "whole town shows up."
"this town shows up for everything," you replied.
she smiled fondly. "heart-shaped balloons and fruit punch and ice skates. what's not to love?"
you turned your neck to look back up at trevor. "'m honored to have been on the receiving end of one of your famous invitations," you teased, "even if it's not for a dance." his delight rumbled into your shoulders, the back of your thighs, firm and warm.
cole yawned, stretched. "duty calls, fellas," he said, making to get up.
you reluctantly pushed up from trevor's lap, quickly pouring his untouched mug into a to-go cup. the team filed out with their typical string of thank yous and goodbyes, matt's extra glance at bridget met with a returning smile.
then it was you and trevor, as the morning break always ended, like clockwork, like a bedtime story that was comforting in its predictability. he tucked a bill in your apron, several candies, the weight of them alone making you smile.
"did i tell you how pretty you look today?" he told you.
"no," you mused, your hands clasped behind your back, shifting on your feet.
he hummed. "so pretty, sugar, never been so nervous to ask someone out," he admitted, that smug smile lazy across his face.
you tilted your head. "don't be nervous," you told him. "you're the easiest yes i've ever had."
at your words he ducked his wide shoulders down to you, flipped his hat backwards on his head so as not to impede you in any way, kissed you with a rough palm on your soft face, your hands still behind your back as you met him up on your toes.
a different kiss, one so lovely, still, soft and beautiful, drenched in daylight.
would your head ever stop spinning, when it came to him? would you ever come down from the clouds, again? even if you did, would there not be cumulus tufts in your hair, wisps of cirrus in your lashes?
he was proving it difficult, especially that next day, the fourteenth of february.
you had the morning to yourself, existing slowly and methodically, reading and running errands, finally starting to get ready for your date in the late afternoon.
before you knew it, there was a knock at your door, just as you had swung your jacket on. you swung it open to find him leaning against the doorframe, the picture of ease, shoulders drooping the way they always did after a working morning.
"ready to go?" you asked, making to close the door behind you before pressing up on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. he caught your face in a hand before you could, though, steering your lips towards his mouth instead. you laughed against his lips. "greedy," you taunted, pulling away, letting yourself lean into his warm side.
"got no idea, sugar," he admitted, voice twinged with a day of speaking. you walked together to the high school ice skating rink, only a few minutes away, the brisk february air biting at your nose, your ears. you caught up on the morning, what book you had finished, how annoying ginger's husband was being about the state of his rain gutters.
when you entered the rink, finally, pushing forward the old doors, you couldn't help but smile, and trevor couldn't help but watch you.
everyone was here, of course they were. balloons hung from the top of the glass, streamers decorating every archway and spare inch. a massive table of themed refreshments was just next to the bleachers.
it looked like something out a ninety's film, mixed with the unique small town charm and wintery love you had come to know so personally.
you and trevor quickly got your skates on, all lingering touches and knowing smiles, and headed for the ice.
you were shaky at first, but his hands were so tight on yours, you knew there wasn't a chance he would let you fall. he spun you around the rink easily, twirling you like a ballroom dance floor, ever the show-off, anything to make you laugh.
"hey, harry!" you called out, at one point, noticing your host-friend helping a taller, skinner kid his age onto the ice. he waved, his eyes glittery in a way you recognized. is that jason? you mouthed. harry nodded, smiled shyly. you gave him an impressed thumbs up, trevor whistled.
you asked trevor how he got into hockey, watched how his mind waltzed behind his eyes when he talked about outdoor rinks with his friends in elementary school, how even piled-on scarves and hats and puffer jackets didn't stop that flying feeling.
significance would gather in your stomach, butterflies morphing into something much more serious, the kind of flame you'd find in a living room fireplace, in the hearts of teenage lovers.
you skated by cole, scooping up the snow he had made with quick starts and stops, and alex, whose neck was becoming the new home of said snow.
alex grunted, immediately breaking into stride to catch a fleeing cole, whose bright and clear laugh echoed under the roof like church bells.
the fire and police departments had started a relay race, ginger and her girls had formed a circle close to the hot chocolate.
old man peters held his sleeping granddaughter in his lap, bouncing his knee gently, both of their smiles blissful.
trevor's hand found your far hip, pulling you into his warm side. you sighed, looked up at him as you let your fingers trace along his jaw.
"touchy today, sugar, hm?" he said into your hair, a rumble to his tone that told you he liked it.
you hummed, nodded. "you just look so..." you trailed off, in thought, thinking about what, exactly, you meant to say. he looked what? practically edible? like an ocean you wanted to drown in?
how could you tell him you'd been avoiding looking at his hands, for fear you'd blurt something out about wanting them around your neck?
you just swallowed, cleared your throat. his smirk was a flash of teeth.
"you feelin' okay?" he cooed. "should i take you home?"
you found yourself nodding, even though you hadn't been at the rink for long.
"yeah?" he mocked, taunting, his hand on your hip suddenly firm, burning.
bridget's laugh cut through the sizzling air like a stream of cold hose water. you both turned to look at where she now sat, having obviously fallen onto the ice. she peered up at matt through her blonde bangs. "some teacher you are," she laughed, "i knew trev was the right choice for my girl's lessons."
matt shook his head, a barely-there smile on his thin lips. he offered her a hand, steadily helped her to her feet, an almost undetectable shake in his breathing as bridget grabbed onto his forearm for extra stability. "alright, smart ass," he mused, "no help for you, then."
he made to drop her hands, to leave her on her own, but she latched onto him tighter. "yeah right," she said, "you're not going anywhere, sweet boy."
cole's laugh sparkled at matt's flush.
you and trevor were already on the way out, bidding your short goodbyes, half-assed excuses about not feeling well given and taken with knowing eye-rolls.
he walked you back to the inn, up the stairs, his hands on you ever-so-distracting, his voice a careless rasp, your heart beating heavy in your chest.
you finally made it to your closed door, your back against it as he looked down at you with that heated gaze, his frame boxing you in.
"well, get some rest, sugar," he said, slowly, smiling. "since you're not feeling well." he twirled a strand of your hair around a finger.
you sputtered. "what? trevor-"
his eyes widened in mock-surprise. "oh, is there something you want?" he asked.
you clutched at his shirt with your fist, pulled. "please."
"please, what, sugar?" he asked, so smug you wanted to punch him. "gotta tell me what you want, hm?"
"you," you whined, but that wasn't enough.
"oh, is that it?" he drawled, ducking his head down to you, so close, but not close enough, not even a little.
you worked your jaw, so frustrated. "just," you tried, "just please, touch me, trevor, i just wanna feel you."
he smiled, held the side of your face in his palm. "am touchin' you, sugar," he said, "tellin' me this isn't enough?"
you ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, groaned at his feigned confusion. "shut up," you breathed, his mouth an inch from yours.
"make me," he bit back, and then you were kissing him. you swore your lips would be charred, later, as if in proof. you reached a hand behind you, twisted open your door, while the other rooted in his hair, tugged him inside your room as he moaned against your lips.
one of his hands grasped the back of your neck, the other a bruising grip in your side, walking you backwards until the backs of your knees felt the blunt edge of the bed.
you barely registered as he reached under you, flipped you onto his lap, your legs straddling his hips as he sat down on the comforter, far too caught up in this kiss, somehow still so different from ones you has shared before. so charged you felt the air might combust at any second, that, despite his relentless repairs, there was no way this inn could withstand the way he was kissing you, now. surely, the roof would cave in under the weight of your want, water would sear straight through the pressurized pipes.
he smiled against your mouth when you started to rock your hips back and forth across his lap, just so desperate for something, anything.
your exhales came out short, little pants as you reveled in the little friction you were getting against his firm thigh, covered in his heavy work pants, nothing close to what you really wanted, but something, at least.
mercifully, he moved your clothes aside, rocked you more forcefully, making the sensation practically blissful. you dropped your heavy head to his neck, moaned into it.
"oh, sugar," he cooed, and you squeezed your eyes shut. "so greedy for it, hm?"
you nodded into his neck, the tough texture combined with the heavy weight of his thigh catching you in just the right spot, urging a whimper from your throat.
"makin' a mess of me, yeah? could cum just from my thigh?" he said, almost like he felt sorry for you, but you could hear the smile in his voice. you bit down gently on the space between his neck and shoulder, your small retaliation, smiled at his groan.
you slowed your rhythm, picked your head up, let your chest rise and fall as you looked at him in the face, searched his eyes.
his face was slightly flushed, his eyes only just a bit glassy, but he looked at you like you were a wonder, like some divine power had made her way into his lap.
you pressed a feather-light kiss to the corner of his mouth, loved the way you could feel his smile crinkle and widen under your lips.
"please, trevor," you whispered, your touch so soft around his neck. "please just give me what i want."
you shifted on his lap until you felt him, hard and hot and heavy underneath you. his voice came out with a strain. "anything, sugar," he told you, "just tell me."
you lifted your hips up, could feel how wet you were, could tell you had probably left a trace of yourself on his pants. "wanna cum on your cock, trevor," you breathed, couldn't help your sly grin when he immediately began to tug his clothes aside. "please, please let me. i know i'm so greedy-"
he was nodding like he understood as he angled your hips up higher, shifted you so that you sat right above him as he pumped himself up and down, once, twice, so obviously ready for you. "you are, sugar," he said, so eager it almost sounded like a whine, "but i'll give you anything you want, swear it." his hands found your hips. "just promise you'll only be greedy for me, hm?"
you sank down onto him with a nodded promise, bit your lip at the slow, scorching pressure, the pleasant stretch that pulled at your middle, that you felt in your toes. you blinked, trying to get used to the sensation, trying to muffle the groan in your mouth.
"fuck," he moaned, his fingers clutching at the flesh of your hips like you might float away if he let go, "all the way, sugar, 'atta girl." you huffed a short breath when he was all the way in.
words felt far away, suspended in bubbles that whirled around your head.
"speechless, eh?" he teased, and you had a sense of deja vu. "don't worry, sugar. common re-"
and you could have growled at him for alluding to the fact that other girls had felt this, that there were other people in the world who knew what this felt like, so you fitted a delicate hand over his mouth and rolled your hips up and back on him until he was the speechless one, moans falling from his mouth, his brow pinched in pleasure.
"don't worry," you breathed, your mouth an inch from his ear. "common reaction."
you began to move your hips up and down faster as the stretch gave way to something dizzyingly good, as he began to thrust back up into you. so hard and fast, but he held you like something precious. his rhythm built until your mouth fell open, until sweat shone on the high points of his face, until time melted away, until you were reminded of what you'd mistaken him for when you'd first seen him, all that time ago - some ancient sculpture. a work of art.
he cursed as your clit caught on his pubic bone, the friction so overwhelming, and you clenched down on him. "give it to me, sugar," he said, but the strain in his voice made it sound like a plea. "fuck, let me hear you, yeah?" his tone grew gentle. "been wantin' to hear you for so long."
you tightened around him further at his small admission, let your nails rake down his neck, probably a little too hard. he grunted, thrusted harder, shifted you closer to him.
you moaned his name at the new angle, one you felt in the tips of your ears, your hairline, your tongue.
you were so close, so impossibly almost there. "please make me cum," you whined, "please, need you so bad." your exhale was practically pained as you ran your fingers over the red marks on his neck your nails had left. "don't i deserve it, baby?"
he grunted, and it was different. you felt his stomach and thighs clench, his hips sputter as his head spun with the fact that you'd gone right to begging him, skipped the asking part. he pressed his hand to your lower stomach, let his thumb catch against your clit, sending you over the edge in moments. "'course you deserve it, sugar," he rasped, gravelly, in your ear as you rode out your high, his thrusts growing wild. "been so good."
you clenched down on him, forcing his own orgasm, fast and all-consuming, the smell of him everywhere, mixed with your perfume. your exhales were warm and heavy, transparent clouds that settled on the floor of your room, making it every bit the dreamland it had become in your mind.
he held you so close to him as he pulled you to his chest, leaned you both back on your bed. you stared up at the ceiling.
about time, one of the tiles whispered, holding a crisp fiver.
couldn't have waited another week? the losing tile muttered bitterly.
you smiled as his rough hand found your face, tilted it towards him. he was smiling. your stomach fluttered as you felt your own mouth pull wider.
"what?" he asked, his voice rough, drowsy with use.
you shook your head. "nothing," you said, "just you." your eyes crinkled under the weight of your happiness. "i'm callin' dibs on you."
his eyes lit up as he pulled you in for another kiss, slow and overflowing with meaning. he hummed. "butterscotch," he whispered against your mouth. "my favorite."
fin.
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thankskenpenders · 4 months
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Happy new year, everyone! Welcome to 2024, the year that will mark the 10th anniversary of Thanks Ken Penders. I'd like to go over my plans for the blog for this year.
First of all: in the very near future, I'll have a post with my thoughts on Sonic Dream Team, and I'm sure I'll write one last Sonic Prime review once the final episodes drop on the 11th. I've also been sitting on an unfinished piece about the Sonic LEGO sets. I wanted this to be longer and more detailed piece that not only reviewed the sets but also went into the weird disconnect between homogenized image of Sonic the Brand and the actual fiction it's based off of, but it'll probably end up getting cut down a lot just so I can put something out. Let's just say I did a fun little thing with one of the sets.
Second: yes, I would like to return to regular TKP updates this year. As I've said many times, I wanted to do this in 2023, but I've been suffering from creative burnout after finishing SLARPG and have generally been unable to focus on any of my creative goals this past year. I'm hoping that this year will be better and I'll be able to get back into the swing of covering Archie Sonic issues. Even doing one issue every week or so would be vastly preferable to continuing the hiatus. I'm still only halfway done!! But aside from burnout, my other main hurdle is that I need to reread my own archive to refresh myself on all these things after nearly three years away. This will take some time.
The thing is, though, this year I'll have an extra incentive to go back through my previous writing and brush up on all things Archie Sonic. Because you see...
I've decided that I want to make a video essay about Penders. The comics, the copyright battle, The Lara-Su Chronicles, everything.
The why
I've thought about doing this before, but I never committed to the idea. I was too busy with gamedev, or I thought it'd end up being too long, or I figured that there were already enough videos on the subject, or I just lacked confidence in my ability to put together a video essay. So I told myself it wasn't meant to be, and let the multiple YouTubers who have cited me as a source on their own Penders videos fill that void.
Recently, though, a few things have happened that have convinced me it might be time. For one, YouTube video essays/media retrospectives/etc. are just getting longer and longer. When Quinton Reviews is out here doing 21 hours of videos on Sam & Cat, a subpar Nick sitcom that only lasted one season, I don't feel so crazy for wanting to make a video about several hundred comic books and two lawsuits that'd be at least an hour or two long lmao. Admittedly, I've also been self-conscious about doing a long video essay like this as a trans woman who has yet to do any vocal training. But these days I feel like I see a lot more transfem YouTubers who have done little to no vocal training, and that's given me more confidence on that front.
But the big one was Hbomberguy's recent plagiarism video. As I sat there watching it, I kept thinking about the time I found a CBR article that was just a crude 800 word summary of my two previous articles on Penders, published by a CBR writer who's put out over 4000 articles since 2019. If I've already been plagiarized before, and my writing is so frequently passed around as a go-to source on Archie Sonic drama, then I wouldn't be shocked if there were YouTubers out there straight up just plagiarizing me. I don't watch other peoples' videos on Archie Sonic, so I'd never know! So if people are just gonna paraphrase me when covering these topics anyway, why not take matters into my own hands and make what I would consider to be the definitive video on the subject? If hacks like James Somerton and iilluminaughtii can churn out these shitty video essays and people will still watch them, surely it can't be that impossible to make my own, right? (And also, uh, Hbomb literally told me I should make the video lol. If you're reading this, thanks for the encouragement.)
The what, how, and when
So here's the plan.
Part of this video essay will be an adaptation of my Medium article on the recurring themes of Ken's Archie Sonic run, with its content touched up and expanded upon. There were a few things I skimmed over in the article because I didn't want it to get too long, but again, people are out here watching ten hour videos about bad Nickelodeon sitcoms now. I can get away with elaborating a little more. I can add a few paragraphs talking about the Chaos Knuckles arc, or throw in a little more historical context I've discovered in the years since.
After covering the comics, the back half(-ish?) of the video will be dedicated to the copyright battles and their ensuing controversies, trying to give an accurate picture of what actually went down, the sheer scale of how bad Archie fucked up, and what our takeaways should be. This will have some similarities to my New York Magazine article on the subject, but I'll be rewriting it from scratch. I REALLY had to keep things short for that article because I was already way over the expected word count, and my tone was a little more straight-laced than normal because I was trying to keep things Professional. I can riff more and insert more of my own opinions this time, like I normally would.
I'll inevitably have to touch on some of Ken's Bad Tweets when discussing things that have happened after the lawsuits, but I don't want the video to just devolve into a list of times people got mad at him on Twitter, so I'm gonna try to keep that to a minimum in favor of focusing on his actual work. Things like the Scourge the Speed Demon incident and his continued statements on certain characters' copyright statuses probably warrant mentioning, though. And finally, assuming that the book really does come out this summer, I would like the grand finale of the video to be about those first couple chapters of The Lara-Su Chronicles.
I don't currently know when this video will get done, but it'll probably be in the back half of the year, especially with me waiting for the book to either drop or get delayed yet again. But I've actually already started writing a bit of the script, and will keep chipping away at it for a while.
So, uh, yeah, look forward to that? Wish me luck?
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wholoveseggs · 6 months
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Warmth
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18+ ---- {Masterlist}
This is just a smutty little thing about being in an arraigned marriage to a certain original vampire. This is the first thing I've ever posted so please be nice :)
{Part Two} {Part Three} thanks for all the love ❤️ If you rather read this on Ao3- Link is here
5k words - No warnings other than smut and mentions of a shitty family.
It's your wedding day, but it feels more like being sold off than a celebration. You're about to marry into the most powerful family in history, but it's not by choice—it's all politics. All you can do is hope that the guy waiting for you at the altar is decent and that somehow, you'll survive whatever comes after "I do."
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Part One
You delicately picked at your freshly-manicured nails, your heart pounding in your chest as his sister's circled you, their hands adjusting your dress, hair, and veil.
"Is he a good man?" you whispered nervously, feeling one of them gently pull on your dress, making the low cut of the back align perfectly with your body.
Rebekah gave you a kind smile, applying a touch more blush to your cheeks with a makeup brush. "Yes, dear. He's a good man," she replied.
"He's the best of us, you have nothing to fear," Freya chimed in, taking your hand in a reassuring gesture.
You let out a long sigh as they placed the veil over your head, their satisfied smiles providing some comfort. "You look perfect," Rebekah said, offering a sweet smile. "Welcome to the family."
Walking down the aisle felt like a surreal dream, your heart racing, and time behaving strangely, as if you'd indulged in a bit too much wine. You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as you laid eyes on the groom. At least he's handsome, you thought. But fear still gripped your heart; marrying a vampire was one thing, but becoming a part of the family of the most deadly vampires was a whole new level.
Standing across from him, you barely registered the officiant's words as they initiated the ceremony. Up close, he was even more striking with warm brown eyes, a sharp jawline, and a physique that complemented his looks. He gazed down at you with a gentle smile, though there was a hint of sadness in his dark eyes, a reminder that he hadn't desired this union any more than you did.
The vows were recited, their words escaping your consciousness as you mechanically repeated them. He lifted your veil and with a chaste peck on your lips, the marriage was sealed.
At the reception, your new husband mingled with the guests, sealing packs and making deals, laying bare the true intention behind your marriage. You observed his brother taking the stage, silencing the band.
"I'd like to thank you all for coming. I have a special gift for the bride and groom. Since they didn't really have a honeymoon planned, I took it upon myself to help them out. Outside, they'll find a car ready to take them on the adventure of a lifetime," Klaus announced, giving his brother a wicked smile, clapping him on the back in a way that seemed almost malicious. "To the bride and groom!" he cheered, raising his glass in your direction.
All eyes were on you as your husband led you to the car. You didn't recognize a single face in the crowd, but you hadn't expected to. The people who had sold you had gotten what they wanted, and this arrangement was a win-win for them.
You settled into the back seat of the car, the leather sticking to your bare back. You adjusted your white silk dress nervously, and he sat down beside you, his jaw and fists clenched, the tension palpable. You drove in silence for a while, stealing glances at your new husband, his expression stern and unreadable.
Wanting to break the silence, you considered a joke or maybe a compliment about his looks, but instead opted for the safest option. "Hi, I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you," you said quietly, extending your hand.
He chuckled slightly, and you appreciated his handsome smile as he took your hand, giving it a gentle shake. "Hello, I'm Elijah," he replied.
You exchanged smiles, and the tension in the car began to dissipate. The street lights reflected in his eyes as the car headed toward an unknown destination.
"Do you know where we are going?" you asked.
"The airport," he responded, gazing out the window with a hint of bitterness.
"Not a fan of flying?" you inquired, trying to discern Elijah's emotions.
"No, it's not that," he sighed softly and placed his hand on yours. "I'm sorry this happened to you. When I began negotiating an alliance with your faction, I didn't know they would require a marriage, I agreed to it for peace." he explained.
You shrugged, attempting to suppress the emotions swirling within you. "They've wanted to get rid of me for a while," you confessed.
Before he could inquire further, you arrived at the airport. A private plane awaited you, and you crossed the windy tarmac in your wedding dress, Elijah shielding you from the chill. You hoped someone had remembered to pack you a change of clothes.
Seated in the plane, the gentle hum of the engines made you instantly drowsy. You reached for a glass of champagne, quickly downing it before pouring another.
Elijah took a seat beside you, selecting a book from a pile on the table. He watched you consume your second glass, a playful smirk playing on his lips. "Are you alright?" he inquired.
"No," you admitted, shifting in your seat and closing your eyes.
"Don't like flying?" he teased.
"Hilarious," you replied sarcastically, before turning in your seat, surrendering to sleep before the plane had even taken off.
You awoke to the sound of the arrival announcement. You noticed a warm blanket on you and realized your head was resting on Elijah's shoulder. He smelled faintly of alcohol and nice cologne, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment at the sudden intimacy with a stranger, although you supposed he wasn't one anymore.
"Apparently, we're in Canada," he informed you in a soft tone, offering a gentle smile.
"What?" you replied, lifting your head from his shoulder and peering out the window to see nothing but white.
"I suppose my brother's adventure for us involves some cold," he remarked.
The plane touched down, and the pilot's announcement revealed a bone-chilling temperature of -20°C. Panic set in as you realized your thin dress offered no defense against the frigid cold.
"I don't suppose you happen to have a winter coat?" you asked, your tone flat with a hint of desperation.
Elijah calmly removed his suit jacket and handed it to you, offering a warm smile. As he stood in just his dress shirt, concern flashed in your eyes. "It's alright; vampires don't get cold," he reassured you. "Besides, I'll get us to the car quickly.”
He was being humble when he said 'quickly.' He wrapped his arms around you, and in a literal instant, you found yourselves in the warmth of the waiting car, with Elijah in the driver's seat, studying his phone with a furrowed brow.
"It seems our destination is a cottage up a mountain," he said, clearly displeased as he reviewed the itinerary on his phone.
"Not a fan of snow?" you chuckled.
"I'm not a fan of my brother playing games," he replied as he pulled out of the airport.
The drive up the mountain was a strange mix of anticipation and discomfort. The grandeur of nature unfolding around you offered a stark contrast to the peculiar circumstances that had brought you together. You gazed out of the car window, lost in your thoughts.
After a while, it was Elijah who dared to break the silence, his voice carrying a genuine curiosity. "You mentioned your family wanted to get rid of you. Why?" he asked, his eyes shifting briefly from the winding road to you.
Your gaze remained focused on the passing landscape, a mixture of mountain vistas and dense forests. "I wouldn't call them family," you replied, a hint of bitterness in your tone. "They weren't my blood, and they certainly didn't treat me as such. They wanted to get rid of me because I was no longer of value."
Elijah furrowed his brow, seeking to understand. "No longer of value?" he inquired, his voice gentle.
With a deep breath, you began to unravel the unfortunate chapter of your life. "With the human faction, marriage pacts are common. After I lost my parents, they took me in, providing for my clothing, food, and education, with the understanding that, in return, I'd remain pure until they could marry me off," you paused, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment, searching for any hint of judgment. "I didn't remain pure," 
He listened attentively, his warm smile putting you at ease. "Well, you will fit in with my family just fine," he said with a sweet smile. "Purity isn't our thing either. You're free from all that now."
You couldn't help but chuckle bitterly at the irony of the situation. "Out of the frying pan…" you mumbled, a sense of resignation in your words. "I know all about your family. I don't think this will end well for me."
The falling snow whipped past the car windows, obscuring any view beyond. You arrived at the cottage, and you sucked in the cold air as Elijah whisked you inside. He disappeared momentarily before returning with your bags. You sat on the sofa, taking in the place. It was more of a chalet than a cottage, and you couldn't help but shiver in the chilly interior. Elijah noticed.
"I'll gather some firewood," he said, heading outside.
You got up and explored the place, finding some whiskey and taking swigs straight from the bottle as you wandered. Your attention was captured by a sizable record collection, and you began to browse. You found a record you liked and started playing it, swaying to the music in an attempt to warm up.
Elijah returned inside, his arms laden with firewood, determined to make your cold sanctuary warm and cozy. His eyes softened as he noticed your shivering form.
"I'll get a fire going," he said, his voice gentle. He quickly set about arranging the logs, expertly lighting them, transforming the room with the comforting glow and crackle of the flames.
Taking your icy hands in his, he remarked, "Your hands are freezing." He brought you closer to the fire, the warmth seeping into your chilled skin. You couldn't help but be captivated by his kindness and the concern in his eyes.
"You need to warm up," he insisted, his voice a soothing melody.
“You are nicer than I was expecting,” you replied, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
“I know my family's reputation is not great, but you are a part of it now. I want you to know I will always protect you,” he said softly, his words sincere and reassuring.
You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude for his understanding and genuine care. "I believe you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
He pulled you in and held you close, trying to warm you up; you found yourself drawn to him, his charm and sweetness melting your reservations. In that moment, overwhelmed by his kindness, you leaned in and kissed him softly.
When you pulled away, his expression was both surprised and understanding. "You don't have to do that," he said, his tone gentle. "You're not obligated to do anything with me just because of our situation."
His words filled you with a mixture of relief and gratitude. Here was a man, a vampire, who respected your boundaries, a stark contrast to the people who had controlled your life before.
Elijah guided you to the soft rug in front of the crackling fire, arranging the blankets around you to ensure you stayed warm. The bottle of whiskey sat between you, its amber contents promising warmth from the inside out. You extended the bottle to him, a silent invitation to share in the fleeting comfort of alcohol.
You both drank in companionable silence, the warmth from the fire seeping into your bones, the whiskey adding a pleasant haze to the room. As the evening wore on, conversation flowed more freely, and the barriers between you began to dissolve with every shared story and laugh.
Elijah stood and helped you up, his hand finding its way to your waist, and before you knew it, he was leading you in a slow dance, his movements graceful and confident. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, swaying to the music.
"What is this song?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the music.
"It's called bitter sweet symphony,'' you replied, your eyes meeting his. "It's one of my favorites."
He nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on yours. "I like the strings, the whole thing is very melancholic," he observed.
You smiled, your fingers tracing patterns on his shoulder. "I find it beautiful. It's a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, don't you think? Even in the face of adversity, we keep going."
He regarded you with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. "Something you have a lot of experience in, I gather," he said, his tone appreciative.
"I wouldn't say I'm resilient," you responded modestly, the music guiding your movements. "More like adaptable. Life throws curveballs, and you either adapt or get swept away."
He pulled you closer, the dance now a slow, intimate sway. "Indeed, life has a way of testing us. But it also brings unexpected joys."
The dance continued, a silent conversation unfolding between you, transcending words. As the music wove its spell, you felt a vulnerability and connection with Elijah that surpassed the constraints of your forced union. The walls you had built around yourself began to crumble, and you found solace in the unexpected warmth of his embrace.
A soft smile played on your lips. “You're not the monster they make you out to be," you replied, your words carrying a newfound trust.
Feeling an unspoken longing between you, you reached out, your fingers tracing a delicate path along his jawline, your touch conveying what words couldn't express. His eyes, dark and intense, met yours with understanding, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. You pulled him closer, your lips meeting in a passionate kiss that ignited a spark, setting the room ablaze with desire.
His response to your kiss was a slow, seductive smile that went straight to your core. He gently slid a hand around the back of your neck, his fingers winding in your hair. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.
You nodded, your own desire mirrored in your eyes. "Yes," you whispered, placing your hands on his chest.
With a sudden surge of intensity, he lifted you effortlessly, his arms strong and secure as he carried you to the nearby sofa. The room seemed to come alive, dancing with shifting shadows painted by the flickering firelight. He gently set you down on the plush sofa, his eyes never leaving yours.
"You are truly exquisite," he murmured softly, as he carefully peeled your wedding dress away, letting it cascade onto the floor like a waterfall of silk and lace.
"I-I think you're beautiful too," you stammered, your words catching in your throat, feeling the chill creep back in after losing the warmth of your dress. You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly, and began to unbutton his shirt.
His smile remained warm and affectionate as he took your hands, pressing a gentle kiss upon them. With a swift motion, he shed his shirt, and pressed his skin to yours in a tender embrace, an effort to restore the warmth that had been lost. He shifted you so you lay side by side, pulling your thigh up to wrap around his hip, the other hand gently cupping your neck as he kissed you softly.
You lingered there for a while as his hands explored the curves of your body. Your own hands ventured, touching his toned chest and shoulders, marveling at the strength beneath your fingertips.
His lips trailed soft, lingering kisses down your neck, each one a tender declaration of affection. His gentle gestures made you blush, the heat of your cheeks contrasting with the cool air in the room. You couldn't help but giggle from the sheer sweetness of his actions.
His hand glided down between you, his fingertips tracing the sensitive skin just above the edge of your white lace panties. A soft moan escaped your lips, a rush of heat pooling between your legs as his hand ventured beneath the fabric. He began to slowly circle your clit, the hand that rested on your neck pushed your head forward, his lips capturing yours in another gentle kiss.
His fingers traced slow, deliberate circles, their casual dips down to your opening making you moan softly into his mouth. The sensation was exquisite, driving you closer to climax with each subtle movement.
“You make such lovely sounds,” he hummed against your lips, then he dipped a finger inside you.
You let out a low, desperate whine, your hips instinctively rocking into his hand. You closed your eyes and swore under your breath, your voice barely audible, your fingers clutching at his neck as he continued to work his magic with his skillful hand.
He smiled, clearly savoring the way you were unraveling under his touch. He slowly pulled his hand away, leaving you achingly empty for a moment before repositioning you. Suddenly, you found yourself underneath him, your back pressed into the softness of the sofa, desire reflected in his eyes.
He began trailing soft kisses and teasing bites down your body, each touch sending electric pulses of need through you.
With slow, deliberate movements, he removed your panties, the fabric sliding off with a tantalizing intimacy that sent your heart racing. He pushed your thighs up, his fingers briefly teasing your clit before he leaned in, his hot breath against your skin.
Then, with an agonizing slowness that made your breath catch, he lowered his head, his tongue finding its way to your clit, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. The world blurred into a haze of sensation, his expertise evident in every flick and swirl, each touch bringing you closer to your peak.
You ran a trembling hand through his hair, your fingers gripping the strands as you surrendered to his tongue. Your hips moved in a desperate rhythm with his mouth, seeking more of the exquisite sensation he was providing.
His hands pressed into your thighs with firm, possessive intent, holding you in place, stilling your movements. With each flick of his tongue, each press of his lips, you felt the tension rising within you, like a coiled spring ready to release.
You couldn't hold back any longer, and your body convulsed as the waves of pleasure overtook you. It was a moment of pure bliss, your cries echoing in the room, as your fingers tangled in his hair. He didn't falter in his attentions, riding you through the aftershocks of your climax.
Your body was still pulsating with the aftermath of the first orgasm, yet he skillfully coaxed another wave of pleasure from within you. He pushed two fingers inside you, finding that perfect spot, and your moans grew louder, filling the room.
"My pretty little wife," he murmured in a seductive whisper. The rhythm of his fingers and his tongue on your overly-sensitive clit created a delicious combination.
You squeezed your eyes shut, completely overtaken by the sensations, your body responding eagerly to his skilled touch. The second orgasm began to build, a powerful surge of pleasure that threatened to consume you entirely. His deep hum against you made you squirm, your legs shaking as you moaned.
His hand shifted from your thigh, splaying across your lower stomach with just the right amount of pressure to hold you down, halting your movements completely. His control heightened the intensity of the moment, trapping you in a delicious blend of pleasure and surrender.
You came apart a second time on his tongue, your body writhing with pleasure as you looked down at his handsome face, his lips glistening with your wetness.
“Fuck,” you breathed out, your voice barely audible, your eyes locking onto his. He made his way back up your body, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. Cupping his face with your hands, you traced the lines of his jaw affectionately as your lips moved in a heated dance, the taste of your shared desire lingering between you.
You pulled off your bra, the cool air of the room contrasting with the heat that radiated between you. His eyes were glued to your every move, filled with desire as you exposed yourself to him. His gaze slowly traced over the curves of your body with a look of admiration and hunger.
He positioned your legs around his hips, and you could feel his cock through the fabric of his pants. You reached down to unzip him, but he caught your wrists with a swift yet gentle motion, pinning them above your head with a possessive grip, his eyes locking onto yours in a dark, intense gaze.
“Stay just like this,” he said firmly. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before pulling back, his eyes never leaving yours as he removed his pants, the room filled with a charged anticipation that crackled in the air between you.
He leaned in closer, his handsome form fully on display, the intensity in his eyes growing as he gazed down at you. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the anticipation building between you. His cock brushed against your clit, a tantalizing tease that made you let out a soft, desperate moan.
Unable to resist the urge to touch him, you lowered your hands to feel him. He let out a quiet "tsk" and shook his head gently, guiding your hands back above your head. His lips curved into a soft smile, as he held you in place, his dominance making your heart race.
His eyes bore into yours with a gentle intensity as placed a pillow under your hips and positioned himself. With a deliberate yet tender motion, he guided himself slowly inside you, filling you inch by inch. A gasp escaped your lips as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours and rocking his hips gently. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, his pelvis brushing against your clit with every stroke, creating a delicious friction that made your toes curl.
He let go of your wrists and his lips met yours in a passionate kiss, and your breaths became shallow as you clung to his arms, your nails digging into his skin.
He maintained his agonizingly slow pace, a rhythm that kept you on the precipice of release. You could feel his eyes on you, studying your reactions before your eyes fluttered closed and your brows arched in pleasure. His hot breath danced on your skin as he whispered soft encouraging words, his lips trailing up your neck, nibbling your ear. Each touch, each whisper, pushed you closer to the edge, intensifying the pleasure that pulsed through every fiber of your being.
"Tell me what you want," he murmured, his voice a seductive melody that made your breath catch in your throat.
"I... I want," you stammered, your voice shaky with desire, your hands clutching at his chest.
"What?" he teased, slowing his pace even more, pulling all the way out before plunging back in, savoring the exquisite torture he was subjecting you to. "You have to tell me," he insisted, his words laced with a playful yet commanding tone.
"More, please," you begged. He took your hands from his chest and pinned your wrists above your head again, your body aching for more of his touch.
"Like this?" he asked, his thrusts becoming deeper and rougher, each one hitting your sweet spot with a precision that made you gasp in pleasure.
"Y-yes, yes, yes," you whimpered, your back arching involuntarily, your legs trembling beneath him as the pleasure intensified, pushing you closer to the edge of climax.
He leaned back, and his eyes locked onto yours, a warm smile forming on his face as he enjoyed the flush of your cheeks in response to his actions. With a gentle touch, he ran his thumb over your clit, feeling the immediate response of your body, tightening around him in pleasure. A low hum of approval escaped his lips as he continued to graze your clit, attuning himself to your body's responses.
The room was filled with the intoxicating sounds of your bodies colliding, mingled with soft moans and the crackling of the fire. Elijah's gaze darkened as the pace of his thrusts gradually increased, the desire between you igniting the air. He released your pinned wrists, his hands guiding your thighs up around your waist, spreading them wide, pushing his cock even deeper.
His thrusts grew more urgent, a relentless rhythm that was hard and passionate. Your body tensed, the overwhelming pleasure reaching its peak as you came completely undone, your head falling back, and your back arching as you moaned his name.
"That's it, beautiful wife," he said softly, his voice strained as his own peak approached.
His own climax surged through him, a wave of heat and pleasure washing over you both. He let out a low groan as his body relaxed. Leaning forward, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, his mouth melding with yours in a heated exchange. The room seemed to pulse with the aftermath of your shared pleasure, the fire casting a warm, golden glow over your entwined bodies.
"You are perfect," he whispered against your lips, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a sitting position in his lap. You were still breathless, placing your hands on his chest as you looked into his dark eyes. 
"This is not how I pictured this night going," you said softly, a contented smile playing on your lips. 
"How did you picture it?" He asked gently, his fingers tracing down your spine as he spoke.
You took a deep breath, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on his chest as you gathered the courage to speak your truth. "I thought you might kill me," you confessed, your voice barely audible, carrying the weight of your fears. "I have this fear of vampires. They killed my parents, and I've been haunted by that memory ever since."
Elijah's eyes softened with understanding, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I am truly sorry for the pain you've endured," he said, his voice laced with genuine empathy. "You're incredibly brave for facing your fears and allowing yourself to trust me."
You nodded, a lump forming in your throat as you continued. "My adoptive parents married me off to you as punishment, not expecting any kindness from you. But you've shown me a side of vampires I never knew existed. I didn't expect this... warmth, this understanding."
Elijah's hand cupped your face with a gentle reassurance. "I take my vows seriously," he said, his voice unwavering. "You are my wife now, and I will protect and care for you always."
In that moment, the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes filled you with hope, erasing some of the lingering pain and fear. 
With a single, elegant motion, he effortlessly lifted you into his arms, holding you close as he guided both of you into the shower. The hot water cascaded over you, cleansing your bodies of the remnants of passion and desire. He gently pressed you against the cool, slick tile, his lips capturing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. His hands asserted a possessive grip on your waist, drawing your body in close to his.
You pulled back, your breath momentarily catching in your throat as his affectionate touch lingered. The hot water continued to flow over your relaxed bodies. "You know," you confessed, "I think I might actually really like you."
He grinned bashfully, his eyes filled with adoration, and leaned in to kiss you again. You could feel his cock harden against your leg, his desire reignited by your proximity.
You pushed lightly on his chest, moving both of you around so his back was against the tile, the warm water streaming down from above his head. You pressed your lips against his neck, then trailed kisses down his shoulder and chest.
Your hands glided over his damp skin, tracing the contours of his muscles as you moved downward, your lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. His breath hitched when you reached his abdomen, and you glanced up, locking eyes with him before continuing your descent.
You took his cock in your hand, feeling the weight and heat in your palm. His sharp intake of breath spurred you on, and you pressed a lingering kiss to the sensitive tip before trailing your tongue along his length, savoring the salty taste of his desire. His hand threaded through your hair, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.
You closed your lips around him, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head, eliciting a low groan from deep within his throat. The water cascading around both of you seemed to heighten the intensity of the moment, amplifying every sensation. His fingers tugged on your hair, his touch both commanding and gentle, guiding your pace.
His hips moved in response, a silent plea for more, and you obliged, taking him deeper. His groans filled the steamy air, your lips and tongue working in harmony to bring him to the brink, his breaths turning shallow and erratic. A satisfied smile played on your lips as you reveled in the power of making a man like him come undone.
You gazed up at him through your fluttering eyelashes, giving him your most innocent expression as you intensified your movements. You pushed your head further down, burying your face into his pelvis, and with a deep groan, he found release down your throat.
Elijah leaned against the tiled shower wall, catching his breath, a satiated smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you with admiration. You, on the other hand, wore a confident smirk, the satisfaction of pleasuring him evident in your eyes. 
Elijah placed a gentle kiss on your lips as you stood together under the warm cascade of water, both of you still savoring the shared moment of passion. He then guided you out of the shower, wrapping a large, fluffy towel around your shoulders before drying himself off.
As you both made your way to the bedroom, the soft hum of the bathroom fan in the background, he looked at you with affection. "You're quite extraordinary," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth.
"Why? Was that your first blowjob?" You teased, giving him a sweet smile. 
He let out a little chuckle, his laughter filled with warmth. He pulled the blankets back on the bed and you both got underneath them. You gladly snuggled up next to him, laying your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. In that moment, wrapped in his arms, you felt a sense of peace and contentment, knowing that you were exactly where you wanted to be.
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{Part Two} {Part Three}
463 notes · View notes
gojolatte · 27 days
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❥ Beg For It, Petal.
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» RATING › 18+ [M I N O R S D O N O T I N T E R A C T] » GENRE(S) › smut/fluff » PAIRING(S) › geto suguru x female!reader x gojo satoru » WORD(S) › 2.8k+ » SYNOPSIS › You simply want to make breakfast for your boyfriend's but they have something else in mind. » SMUT WARNING(S) › oral (female receiving), fingering, squirting, gojo & geto kissing, a smidge of dirty talking, allude to sub!geto, allude to anal, praise kink, begging, nicknames (petal, peach, love, pretty girl, honey, & gorgeous), loads of cuddling between the three of you, vacation vibes only! (half-ass edited so beware lol) » POST DATE › 03/21/2024
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thank you for reading! & remember: you nice, keep going.❤️ comment/reblogs(s) and like(s) are totally welcomed! › read more work here: masterlist ‹
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It’s merely morning when the sun begins to rise, casting a surreal glow into the room. Your body and mind decide to stir as you wake from your slumber. The black curtains hardly catch the glare that hits your face when you try to turn over. It’s then that you realize you’re laid snug on top of Satoru. You can feel his even breath against your neck as he smushes his face against your chest. His grip on your waist is tight and it stops you from being able to turn like you want to.
“Stop.” Satoru groans when you shift your body, leaving Suguru to grab you from his arms (or more importantly, before you can get up to leave). His hold is much firmer than Satoru’, his face is buried in your neck and you can feel him press soft kisses against it.
“Pretty girl,” Suguru chuckles the moment you moan. “Where are you trying to go, honey?” His eyes remain closed, his voice is soft but raspy and for a second, you melt into his embrace as he smothers you closer to his chest. One of the things you love to do is simply listen to this beautiful man talk. His voice is so calming and reassuring that you often fall into this state of bliss. You appreciate the feelings both he and Satoru give you while you're tucked into their arms. A sense of safety and security that everything will be alright. You close your eyes and savor the moment, knowing this feels like home.
“You’re staring, baby.” He wolfishly grins, bringing his hand up to caress your bottom lip. “It’s still early… It's only eight and you’re already trying to leave us.” Glancing over at the clock on the dresser, you realize he's right. It's eight forty-three and honestly, you can use a little more sleep. “Sleep.”
“I want to get up though,” You whine as he only chuckles about how cute you are. You want to get up, take a shower, maybe even get breakfast started for them but you can't do that since Suguru won't let you go. “And It’s not that early, ‘Gu. I could be cooking breakfast right now. I’m hungry.” As if on cue your stomach growls, alerting him of the basic need that hasn't been met. “Suguru…”
“But I’d rather you stay here.” He peeks through his left eye to get a good look at you. The ray of sunlight shining through the balcony door just right to radiate not only the room but you too. An angel in disguise. He can't help but reach up to brush his thumb against the side of your cheek as you lean into his warmth. You can't lie, you love being sandwiched between both of them and right now is no different. “That’s why we hired people for this so you wouldn’t have to move a muscle, honey.”
“But I wanna do it…” You frown, “I-It’s not t-the same-”
“Oh, but It is.” You don't see the smirk present on his face the moment he feels you bury your face in the crook of his neck to attempt to hide. “It's okay to relax. It's your vacation as much as it's ours, Petal. Just sleep.” He says, settling back with you in tow and you lose your breath. You can’t believe how beautiful this man is. He laughs, leaning back to rest his head against the pillows again. You snuggle into his chest, tracing circles on his collarbone.
As time goes on, Suguru’s out like a light again, and you decide to maneuver yourself back between them to get comfortable. Both men snore, one louder than the other. You feel Satoru cuddle up into your back as his hand finds your stomach. He rubs against it as both play tug-a-war with your body to see who gets more to cuddle with. 
The warmth feels good. And the butterflies in your stomach make you feel alive as you’re laid up and fiddling with Satoru’s fingers. 
It's times like this you cherish. The moments where Suguru isn’t in one of his moods and Satoru isn’t off doing god knows what. And neither of them has to leave for days on end. It makes you wish you could stay like this forever and keep them chained to the bed but sadly, you can’t. At least not in the way you want to. Suguru might like it. Satoru? Not so much. Then again, who truly knows? As much sex as you and Satoru have, you haven’t tried that yet. 
Which is surprising in itself and well, you make a mental note to visit a sex shop down the street from your apartment complex one of these days. 
Glancing at the clock again, it's nine-ten and you can't justify laying in bed much longer than you have. You want to see the scenery and all that so you decide it's time to get up and shower. You can even feel the grime of last night's activities start to feel crusty and gross and you can't take it anymore. You run a couple of scenarios through your mind or rather, solutions so you can get up and move freely without waking your boys.
Solution one. Try with all your might to wiggle your way out of their grasp. In which, you do but that plan ends in utter failure when Suguru groans for you not to move again. He turns over to throw his arm over your waist to keep you still. And with Satoru's hand awkwardly sprawled on your ass, they've got you locked in place again. 
Failure.
Solution two. Try to put a pillow in your place but, of course, that was also a failure because they can tell the difference. Hell, they won't even allow you to get up long enough to do the switch.
You're exasperated as you roll over to stare at the ceiling, groaning to no one but yourself. You glance to either side of you. They look adorable with Suguru’s face buried in your chest now and Satoru’s face mushed against the pillows, it makes his lips pucker. You just want to kiss both of them but right now is not the time.
Solution three. Try ripping yourself from their grasp. You try for about five minutes until you realize that's futile.
“Really?” It only serves to annoy you when you hear Satoru chuckle, no doubt listening to you struggle. And if he’s awake then you know Suguru is too even if he doesn’t utter a word. You just want to get up! Your stomach has been growling for a hot minute and you're hungry and gross and ugh!
“Just stay with us, Petal.” How can you say no to that? You don't know but you fix your mouth and tell them to get up when Satoru leans in close. His lips barely touch the skin of your neck and you can feel his gust of breath on your neck that sends a shiver down your spine.
“I was going to make us breakfast though…” You gasp the moment he nibbles against your ear, his warm hand resting against your thigh. So close to where you would like it to be but not right now. You try your best to sit up again but it’s no use. With them holding you the way that they are, you’re shit out of luck. “Well, can I at least take a shower?”
“Mm-mmh,” Suguru mumbles while kissing your shoulder. “Later...”
You roll your eyes at your boyfriend as a sigh falls from your lips. For both of them to be grown men, they’re acting like straight children right now but giving up is the last thing you want to do. Hunger overtakes everything. So you wait, somewhat impatiently for what seems like hours. You knew they were going to fall asleep again soon. 
It was just a matter of time. 
You end up wasting time on your phone, playing some mobile game Satoru told you to download until you hear both men snoring a little louder than before. 
With a shift of their bodies, you're finally able to slip out of their arms to get to the bathroom. You made it your mission to take a quick shower, trying to figure out what you want for breakfast. You don't want to linger in case they wake from their slumber again and try to tug you back into bed. Or you know, in case they decided to hop in the shower with you because breakfast will never be made then.
“Aww,” You coo, seeing them closer with Satoru’s face buried in Suguru’s neck while his leg is hiked onto his front. The blanket covers nothing but their lower half. his arm loosely draped over his tiny waist. Suguru’s waist was a gift from the heavens, you loved it. Especially whenever he’d wrap your legs around it.
You quickly shake those thoughts before they even enter your mind, instead, you snap a picture to tease them later. 
Waltzing over to the drawer, you pull out one of their band shirts, a random one they let you have (since they had so many), and settle for some black panties. Being comfortable was the main thing. 
Stepping out, you close the door quietly and start toward the kitchen. Searching through the fridge to find something to make something simple came to mind, a little bit of both of their favorites.
You're so into what you are cooking, that you don’t hear the door to the suite bedroom open. You also don’t hear either man making their way to the kitchen. 
“Baby?” Satoru whines, wrapping his arms around your waist. You’re startled, mind drawing blanks as you almost drop the hot skillet.
“J-Jesus,” You giggle, turning to face him to push him away, “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry,” Satoru smiles. He peppers kisses down your neck as his hands caress your inner thighs and you can feel the start of his bulge poking into your ass. Suguru stands from the island and pulls you to stand in front of him while Satoru sandwiches you from behind.
“I’m trying to cook,” You whine, feeling Satoru’s hand dip into boy shorts as he rubs his finger over your slit. You throw your head back with a soft moan. Suguru steps away long enough to turn off the stove so the food doesn’t burn, but he steps forward to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist to sit you on the counter. Neither one says a word, Satoru attacking your neck to hear you groan as Suguru kisses your lips, your body melting into their touches, “I just wanna finish cooking...”
“Maybe we just want you for breakfast,” Satoru growls, nipping at your earlobe before yanking your underwear down and off your body.
“You can finish after we’re done,“ Suguru teases, “You’re already so wet for us, Petal.”
“Fuck yeah, she is,” Satoru smirks, tilting his head so he could get a good look at you. You’re blushing softly, the tint of red turning you into a tomato. “Was it from me touching you or is it the thought of what we’re going to do to you.”
“What’s turning you on, baby?”
“‘Toru…” You don’t want to say it out loud, resulting in you simply nodding your head. Of course, they’re not falling for it. Suguru grips your chin a little harshly but you can’t help but nibble on your bottom lip. Your cunt clenching around absolutely nothing at the blatant show of dominance. Satoru knows that look on your face, you’re slowly falling into that headspace of yours but Satoru doesn’t want you to completely lose yourself. 
At least, not yet.
“Words baby,” Suguru mutters, kissing the corner of your mouth once you take a deep breath to try and ground yourself. 
‘We need to hear you, Peach.”
“Yeah! Yes! Please…” You’re breathless as you throw your arms around Suguru who gets a grip on your thighs to be able to pick up and move you to the kitchen island. You’re going to need more room for the orgasm he’s about to give you. Your hips buck the moment he starts to slowly ease his middle finger inside you. 
“So tight.” Suguru places kisses on your trembling thighs, and all the while, Satoru hops onto the island to settle behind you. He’s glad he sent the chef and maid away for a couple more hours. Let’s be real though, they would have gladly given them a show too. He didn’t care but he knows you do.
“You’re so wet, Peach.”
“She’s sucking my fingers right in.”
Satoru chuckles, bringing his finger to press into your clit before rubbing it while Suguru's fingers continued to pump in and out of your cunt. The sounds cause both men to grow hornier as they watch your orgasm build, you're falling back against Satoru’s chest as he moves to the area above your clit. Suguru takes the opportunity to roll his tongue over your clit before flicking it a couple of times.
“That’s it, love.” Satoru kisses his way down your neck as your mouth falls open and your breathing continues to pick up. You’re right there if the way you try to squeeze your thighs around his hand and Suguru’s head says anything. It’s so hot. Fuck, you’re fucking gorgeous. “Let Sugu take care of you. Feels good doesn’t it?”
You moan in response, reaching for Satoru to bring him closer for a heated kiss. Your eyes close as he wastes no time, his tongue dancing with yours for dominance but ultimately winning.
“Taste sweet.” You throw your head back once more when Satoru starts to play with your bottom lip, gently running his thumb over it. You take it into your mouth, rolling it around your tongue and sucking on it lightly. You can feel how hard he is in your back, wanting to take care of them like they were taking care of you. You let go of his thumb with a soft pop as Suguru leans up to face both of you and quickly runs his palm back and forth over your clit.
“Please- ‘m- Fuck!”
“That’s it,” Satoru teases, running his tongue up your neck and over that spot that makes you shudder. “Don’t be shy, love.”
“Let it out, Petal. Let us hear you.” He whispers, looking at Satoru whose eyes are fixated on you. He wants to taste you until you scream their names. Nibble at your exposed skin until you’re whining for him to stop. He loves the sex-crazed look you get in your eye when you’re about to cum, especially when it’s directed towards him. 
Their faces are so close that Suguru's lips hover not quite touching yours as Satoru is still buried in your neck.
You’re fucking dripping onto the counter, their goal obvious once they catch each other's eyes again and smirk.
“You going to squirt for us, Petal?” Suguru keeps going, hearing you whine but your moans grow louder the moment your body lets go. He leans down, not wanting it to go to waste as his hands slow down but his tongue makes up the work. He continues to lap at your pussy as Satoru watches with sharp lust-filled eyes. 
“Taste good?” Satoru asks as Suguru smirks, giving your pussy a lasting kiss before coming up to meet you and Satoru. It doesn’t take long for Satory to grip his chin to tug him closer. Running his tongue from his chin to his mouth before making out and tasting you all on Sugur’s tongue. Satoru moans into the kiss as Suguru deepens it, all the while, you try to catch your breath before leaning forward to rub Suguru through his boxers.
“Fuck…” Suguru gasps, feeling you lap at his neck while Satoru still has his tongue in his mouth.
This is fucking heaven and god, he doesn’t want to break this.
“Beg for it,” Satoru smirks, pulling away from Suguru but keeping him close enough to feel his breath on his lips. “Beg us to take care of you.” You give Suguru’s cock a gentle squeeze before leaning back against Satoru’s hard chest.
Suguru closes his eyes, swearing he could cum right now. Your gaze is so intense that he knows he’s going to be in for it once you get back to the room.
“Satoru. Petal. Please touch me.” He’s practically begging both of you to do what you want with him. 
“You think that was good enough, Peach?”
You grin, pushing him down to kneel in front of you. 
“I think you can do better than that.”
Satoru hums as both of you stand in front of Suguru with wide grins on your face.
“I know he can too. Guess we’re going to have to fuck it out of him, right Suguru?”
And god, does Suguru's mind grow completely cloudy just thinking about it. 
He can’t fucking wait.
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sirenologyyy · 19 days
Text
EVERYTHING I KNOW ABOUT LOVE !
୨ৎ summary : wherein singer!reader books her next role in the ballad of songbirds and snakes after starring in the third highest-grossing movie of all time called avatar: the way of water, and falls for the bad guy... of course
୨ৎ warnings : cussing, that's pretty much it HEHEEHEH
୨ৎ author's note : YA'LL I've never seen laufey as a faceclaim in these before she's gorgeous. Also, your character in atwow is named Magnolia Quaritch, you're in Daisy Jones and The Six as a Jazz singer named Vienna Cartwright and a character in House of The Dragon named Theadosia Baratheon.
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yourusername
tagged: @/jamieflatters @/baileybass @/jackchampion
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liked by rachelzegler, sukiwaterhouse, hunterschafer, baileybass, jackchampion, livkatecooke and 176,987 others
yourusername the sexy skxawngs are SO back 🤩🙏🔥
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jackchampion DUDEEE YOU SAID YOU WEREN'T GUNNA POST THAT PIC OF ME
⤷ yourusername obviously I lied
user1 NAWW YA'LL ARE SO CUTE
user2 OMGGG your boots are giving
user3 average brother and sister dynamic
user4 HELLO DON'T TELL ME Y/N AND JACK PLAY SIBLINGS IN AVATAR????
⤷ user3 HELP yeah they do they're quaritch's kids and they're stepsiblings, y/n's character is named magnolia she was born on pandora like three or four years before spider was
⤷ user4 they barely look alike HELP
⤷ jackchampion no because we keep saying that too
⤷ yourusername @/slang_711 your response 🎤🎤🎤
user4 naw HAHAAHAHA
rachelzegler YA'LL ARE SO CUTEEE
⤷ yourusername MWAH
jamieflatters what is that picture of me
⤷ yourusername my finger slipped
⤷ jamieflatters this is an injustice
⤷ yourusername mb I'm sorry
⤷ jamieflatters you know you aren't
baileybass no because that day in london was so fun omggg
yourusername especially when it started raining and we all were just running around like headless chickens and we took cover inside that empty ambulance
⤷ jackchampion and then I totally didn't fall getting out
⤷ baileybass lies
⤷ yourusername falsehoods
⤷ jamieflatters these people deserve the truth jackson
user5 UGH y/n's so pretty I wish she was real :/
user1 frl I wish pretty people were real
user6 jack eating dino nuggies and mac and cheese with a coke sends me
⤷yourusername I have a folder on my phone with 18 seperate photos of jack eating the same meal over the course of filming atwow
⤷ jackchampion WHAT???
⤷ yourusername my lil bro 😔
⤷ user6 PUAHAAHAGAHSHS
⤷ jackchampion girl bye I'm literally 6 feet tall
⤷ yourusername nobody asked jack
⤷ jamieflatters yeah jack
ayoedibiri I miss you 😔
⤷ yourusername I miss YOU
user7 MAGNOLIA QUARITCH 🔛🔝
user8 if magnolia quaritch has a million fans I'm one of them, if she has a hundred fans I'm one of them, if she had 0 fans I'm DEAD
hunterschafer looking tew good babes x
⤷ yourusername ure too kind 🫡 🫶
user9 HELPPP BECAUSE JAMIE'S FACE IN THE BEGGINING
⤷ yourusername he tried gochujang for the first time
⤷ jackchampion top 10 worst anime fails
user7 I think you cropped me outta some of these babes 💋
user8 imagine breathing the same air as y/n y/l/n is rn like I cannot imagine 😔
user10 y/n what's ur favorite hot wheels car
user11 come home the kids miss you 😔
user12 can magnolia come and dissect me like that bladder polyp 30 minutes into the movie
yourusername
tagged: @/lionsgate
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liked by rachelzegler, hunterschafer, jackchampion, tomblyth, joshandresrivera, oliviarodrigo and 500, 975 others
yourusername show our girl mira sage baird some love, the ballad of songbirds and snakes out now November 17th!
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user1 STOP STOP STOP
user2 THERE'S NO FUCKING WAY SHE'S PLAYING MIRA SAGE
rachelzegler welcome to the rodeo big sis 🎹🎶✨️
⤷ yourusername let's fcking do this thing
user3 im literally screaming crying and throwing up right now OMFG RACHEL JUST CALLED Y/N BIG SIS
user4 STOP BCS I just finished reading tbosas yesterday
user5 OH MY FUCKING GOD MIRA PLAYING THE PIANOOOO
user6 these stills are everything to me
jackchampion SO SO SO PROUD OF YOU 🙌
⤷ yourusername #1 WINGMAN FRL 💯
user7 her first freaking role was literally playing stephen lang's daughter in a james cameron film, then immediately booking the role of serafyna freaking baratheon in house of the dragon, then playing a jazz singer in daisy jones and the six, NOW SHE'S IN THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES???
user8 no one's doing it like her frl
user1 "OUR GIRL MIRA SAGE BAIRD" WHAT IF I START SOBBING
user5 like hello I'm never getting over this tf 😭💔💔💔
user3 Y/N Y/L/N THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE
tomblyth hey nightingale
⤷ yourusername wsp gent
user9 OH MY FUCKING GOD NO ONE TALK TO ME RIGHT NOWWWWWWW
⤷ user3 DID THEY JUST CALL EACHOTHER BY THEIR NICKNAMES OH LORD
user5 they saw an opportunity and took it
ashleyjliao oh ya'll are not READYYYY
user11 TOM BLYTH AND Y/N Y/L/N NATION RISE
user8 IM LITERALLY SCREAMING RIGHT NOW HOLY SHITTTTTTTT??@@?@?!!?!,#*#(
⤷ user1 someone time this exact moment these two made frickin history tonight
⤷ user6 I'm so glad I stayed up for this holy shit
⤷ user8 it's literally 5:39 am for me rn I literally have to defend a thesis in 3 hours and I am wide awake bouncing around my dorm
⤷ yourusername oh babes get some sleep 😭 (good luck on your thesis btw you're gunna kill it! 💓)
⤷ user8 IM GOING TO BED RN MISS MA'AM 🫡
⤷ user10 replying to user8 NAW GIRL I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE REPLIED TO YOU
⤷ user8 replying to user10 IT CAN ONLY GO DOWNHILL FROM HERE DUDE
user7 I WILL NEVER FORGET THIS MOMENT OMFGDYDHDU
baileybass can't wait 🤍
⤷ yourusername I love you so much bai bai 🫶🏼
user12 oh my FUCK is that the scene where sejanus and mira have that conversation outside the hob???
⤷ user9 OH THERE'S NO WAY
⤷ user13 STOP WE'RE FINALLY GETTING THE "you're everything I could ever have wanted" SCENE
⤷user9 AAAAAAAAA I CAN'T WAIT OH MY GOD?!?!?
⤷ user6 UGHDGDFC MY SEJMIRA HEARTTTTTTT 😭💗
⤷ user3 I apologise for the person I will become once I see Sejanus and Mira at my local theatre
⤷ hunterschafer me neither
⤷ user3 HUNTER'S A SEJMIRA SHIPPER CONFIRMED?????
⤷ user6 hunter I love you
⤷user3 HUNTER SHIPS SEJMIRA YA'LL HEARD IT HERE FIRST 🗣🗣🗣
⤷user12 NO BECAUSE IF WE'RE GETTING THE HOB SCENE THEN THE CLIFF SCENE IS 3 DAYS AFTER...
⤷user13 oh...
⤷ user1 I DON'T THINK I WILL SURVIVE THIS
⤷ user2 yeah and neither does-
⤷ user8 NAWWW STFU @/user2
⤷user12 don't even go there @/user2
⤷user10 GET THE HELL OUT @/user2
⤷ user10 DONT EVEN CONTINUE THAT SENTENCE @/user2
joshandresrivera prepare to have your knocks socked off
⤷yourusername oh they dunno what's COMING
⤷ rachelzegler stop because tell me why I was sobbing even more than you were while you were performing mira sage's song 😭
⤷ yourusername we were inconsolable that day 😭😭😭 i think even Tom was tearing up too
⤷ tomblyth no you're wrong there was a busted pipe above my spot it kept leaking into my eye
⤷yourusername sure honey.
user14 NAWWWW ☝️☝️☝️
user15 someone check up on tom if he's still breathing cuz if y/n fucking y/l/n ever called me honey I'd be GONEEEEEEE
user16 @/tomblyth are u alright pal
⤷ joshandresrivera his eyes were literally irritated when I looked at him during our first initial take
⤷tomblyth nice going josh
⤷ yourusername rachel never let him go
⤷ rachelzegler duly noted
user17 y/n y/l/n as mira sage baird oh someone up there is looking out for me frl
rachelzegler
tagged: @/yourusername
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liked by yourusername, tomblyth, joshandresrivera, hunterschafer and 168, 753 others
rachelzegler new york, new york - Frank Ocean
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joshandresrivera alright I see how it is
⤷ rachelzegler it's not you, it's me?
yourusername I'm coming after your entire career Joshua
tomblyth I asked if you wanted to go hang out in new york with me and you told me you were busy?
⤷ yourusername but I was 😁
⤷ rachelzegler get in line blyth
⤷ tomblyth I'm devastated, truly
⤷ yourusername it's not my fault I'm incredibly sought after, I'm sorry Tom
⤷ hunterschafer go tell 'em honey!!!
⤷ yourusername better luck next time @/tomblyth
⤷ tomblyth there's still a next time?
⤷yourusername For you? Always
⤷tomblyth I'm the luckiest man alive, I feel like I'm going to soar out of my flat any minute now, maybe do somersaults in the sky I'm not sure, we'll see.
yourusername liked this comment
user1 not Tom Blyth being down bad
user2 HELLO??? TOM???
user3 why do they sound so flirty wtf...
user4 dosen't Tom have a gf HELPPPP
user5 I don't think it's confirmed
⤷ user4 it better not be cuz why am I kinda eating this up
user6 NO BCS SAME ADFSDGSJSSHZ
lionsgate our favorite sister duo 💕
⤷ yourusername iktr 🙏
⤷ rachelzegler this is a WIN
user7 OH WE NEED THOSE DIGICAM PICS RNNNN
user8 @/yourusername LETS MAKE IT HAPPEN ‼️‼️‼️
user9 Y/N AND RACHEL IN NEW YORK Y/N AND RACHEL IN NEW YORK Y/N AND RACHEL IN NEW YORK
user10 THERE'S NO WAY I WAS 5 MINS AWAY FROM THAT RESTAURANT AND DIDN'T GO THERE 😭😭😭
user11 y/n l/n and rachel zegler my bestfriends
user12 HELP THE TEXT WITH Y/N AND RACHEL IM CREASING
⤷ user11 IKR THIS IS SO UNSERIOUS
⤷ user10 I wonder if she actually got the Lucy Gray barbie
⤷ yourusername everywhere we went it was sold out 😭
⤷ user12 NAHHH QUEEN YOU DESERVE SM BETTER
user3 @/tomblyth you might wanna get onto that
⤷ user5 @/tomblyth GET THIS GIRL HER LUCY GRAY BARBIE
⤷ user4 @/tomblyth YK WHAT TO DO
user14 HAHAHAAYAH NOT YA'LL TAGGING HIMMM 😭😭😭
user15 I know Y/N was mourning for that spilt coffee
⤷ rachelzegler OH YOU BEST BELIEVE SHE WAS DISTRAUGHT
user16 and they were thrifting too UGH I wanna be able to go thrifting with y/n and rachel
⤷ user14 I wonder who got those cowboy boots
⤷yourusername actually we both saw it at the same time but I ended up giving it to Rachel because I'm a wonderful person! (and we totally didn't fight over it inside goodwill!)
rachelzegler 😭😭😭
tomblyth
tagged: @/joshandresrivera @/rachelzegler @/yourusername see more...
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liked by yourusername, rachelzegler, joshandresrivera, ashleyjliao, hirokiberrecloth and 268, 836 others
tomblyth HG film dump. We had our flaky croissants, our chewy croissants, but alas, not one croissant on earth could live up to these beautiful people. teebosass coming to theaters near you. ❄️❄️❄️
rachelzegler FIRST!!!
rachelzegler ugh blyth you sap
⤷ tomblyth what can I say
ashleyjliao 🥐🥐🥐
yourusername that cucumber salad did not taste as good as you manipulated me into believing
⤷ tomblyth hey you could use the vitamin K, you're welcome ❤️
⤷ yourusername this is what playing a pre tyrannical president of a dystopian world does to you kids
user1 yes mom 🫡
user1 AWWW THE GROUP PIC OF ALL THE MENTORS 🥹🥹🥹
⤷ user2 I'm abt to sob
user3 so excited OMGGG
user2 YA'LL THE CABIN SCENE I WILL NEVER RECOVER...
user4 sofia crying makes me wanna cry too wtf
user5 the tributes and mentors aww
⤷ user3 I'm having that picture framed and put on a pedestal
user6 Y/N getting her own picture is so cute 🫶
user7 holy shit ur right
⤷ user2 replying to user6 she literally got a single picture all to herself while the others were with someone else on every photo
⤷ user8 CHAT WHAT IS GOING AWNNN
user8 no because y/n having her own picture meanwhile everyone else had to share the spotlight is making me think thoughts...
user9 oh twitter's about to blow up and second now
user10 @/y/nsidehoe on twt 🔥🔥🔥
user11 you were amazing in Billy the Kid!
user12 RACHEL IS SO POOKIEEEE
user13 these photos are so well shot though
user14 the tributes all hugging eachother ugh MY HEART
user15 josh's posture is cracking me tf up 😭
⤷ user10 BWHAHAGSSJAJSSJS
user16 10 MINUTES AGK HOLY SHITTTT
user17 y/n's face though HELP ME
user18 Y/N NATION HOW TF ARE WE FEELING???
user19 I don't even wanna speculate anything atp remember what happened to her and Charles Leclerc?
user17 oh NAWWW they were definitely a thing, did you SEE those yacht pics?
user10 it was a shame they never confirmed it though they were so cute 😔
user20 YALL dosen't tom have a gf???
⤷ user18 nothing's confirmed, pretty sure he said him and the girl were good friends in an article somewhere LMFAO
⤷ user8 omg link
⤷ user13 (2)
⤷ user18 hold on dms
user21 josh and rachel have my heart fssss 🫶
user22 y/n nation boutta start shipping them I'm frl calling it
user23 it'll be gone in a week or so then she'll hop onto the next male lead in her next film
⤷ user22 HAAHAHA SHUDDUPPP
⤷ user23 for promo ✨️
⤷ user24 she's doing smth to these men I swear, spiking their drinks, keeping voodoo dolls of em or sumn
⤷ user23 WAIT STOP AHAHSHSAH
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murdockparker · 1 month
Text
Paralyzed
Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: She walked in on a Friday afternoon. Steve needed nothing more than to get to know her--if only he could find it in himself to speak to her.
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: just pure fluff, mentions of murder (but not frfr)
A/N: no this isn't based on a big time rush song you're crazy anyway!! I think this is my first real Steve fic? The first real one I got around to posting I guess. Cheers!
__
It was a Friday afternoon.
Correction, it was a terribly busy Friday afternoon. Family Video was seemingly the place to be, people swarming the building in hopes of renting new releases for their perspective weekends. Steve usually loathed his Friday shifts for this exact reason, countless questions about the new tapes, a dozen or so mothers berating him when a certain movie is out of stock—as if Steve Harrington himself is the reason behind the madness.
But, this afternoon was different. 
This afternoon she walked in. 
He had enough of the madness, leaving Robin all alone to deal with the wolves for a mere five minutes—he needed to get out of there. With his head in his hands, he sat on an unopened box filled to the brim with different assortments of candy—candy he needed to stock sometime today, a fact he surely couldn’t have forgotten even if he tried. Only two minutes into his escape, Robin came bounding in the backroom, a wild look grazing her eyes.
“Steve,” she nearly panted. “You gotta take over for a minute. This woman is just—ugh—not taking no for an answer! I told her we don’t have The Breakfast Club in stock, but oh no, why trust the employee who rented all ten copies earlier today? Huh? How about we give the girl who makes a little over three bucks an hour a hard fucking time!” Robin was rambling at this point, the words falling deaf on Steve’s ears.
“Robs,” Steve groaned, finally looking up at his friend. “Give me another minute, I have a nasty headache—”
“Me too, Harrington,” Robin sighed, plopping down on the box next to him. “Her name’s probably Debra and she’s a beast in fake leopard print.”
Steve snorted with laughter. “Fine, I’ll head back out there,” he stood up, dramatically dusting off his jeans. “I just don’t know why the hell our help wanted sign hasn’t brought in more folks, we’re dying out here.”
“No one wants to work for Keith,” Robin said simply.
“Damn straight,” Steve pointed, pushing his way back onto the sales floor. The leopard printed demon was nowhere to be seen, much to Steve’s utter relief—he didn’t have the energy to fight her off anyway. Finding his way behind the counter, the doorbell rang out, a pavlovian response nearly spilled from Steve’s lips. “Welcome to Family Vid—”
His heart stopped.
She was gorgeous, like she just stepped out of a magazine ad—the one’s his mom bought, not the trashy shit they sell down at the gas station. Sunglasses adorned her temple like a crown, her hair perfectly falling around the pink lenses. Steve didn’t know what to say, it felt as if he simultaneously forgot all the words in the English language and stuffed seventeen Saltines in his mouth—he was tongue tied.
“Uh, hi,” the girl said softly, waving towards the frozen spectacle behind the counter. “I saw you have a help wanted sign outside?”
Steve could only nod, making a good effort to keep his jaw from falling on the floor. 
“Well,” she smiled, the kind that would make babies giggle at the sight, “I just moved here and sorta need a job so…” A resume was placed on the counter before him. It looked professional—way more than what Family Video could ever hope to ask for from an applicant, anyway. Steve couldn’t stop reading it. She was literally an angel, an answer to his very prayers—every one of them. If he had the power to hire her on the spot, he’d be tossing her a green vest from the back without a second thought. Part of him was cursing the fact Keith wasn’t here to interview her this very second, he needed to get to know this girl. 
“I-I…” Steve tried to speak, feeling his cheeks grow inflamed with embarrassment. He wasn’t used to being so… foolish around a girl.
“Steve, is it?” 
She knew his name. 
Of course he knew she read it off his name tag, he wasn’t that thick, but hearing it come straight from her lips? He could have melted directly into the floor and no one could have stopped him. 
“Yeah, this doofus here’s Steve, I’m Robin,” Robin appeared by his side, seemingly in the knick of time. “Don’t worry about him, we’re getting him the help he needs.”
The mystery girl giggled. “Ah, I see.”
“You want to apply here?” Robin asked, prying the resume from Steve’s—reluctant—hands. “Oh thank God, we’re dying for more bodies around here.”
“I love movies,” she explained quickly, noting how intently Robin was reading over her simple paper. “A-and I used to work at a movie theater back home before moving here, so I know a lot about the recent releases—”
“I’m gonna be honest,” Robin said, leaning onto the counter, voice dripping with secrecy. “You’re probably too good for this place, I mean, way too good for this shit-hole—”
“I need a job,” she repeated, almost desperately. “My folks forced me to move here and I’m trying to save up to get my own place back in Chicago, I’m not built for this small-town bullshit.”
This made Robin explode with laughter and Steve shrivel in despair. She had an expiration date—a way out of Hawkins.
“Well, I’ll make sure to pass this off to our manager—with a glowing recommendation, of course,” Robin winked.
“I appreciate it!” She smiled again, the sight nearly had Steve wishing he had his own pair of sunglasses to wear—it was blinding. “Well, I hope to see you guys around?”
“We’ll be here!” Robin called out, watching the girl walk back towards the door and out towards her car. A hand smacked across Steve’s bicep. 
“Hey!” He finally responded, rubbing the aforementioned spot. “What the hell?”
“I should bring that whiteboard out of retirement,” Robin arched her brow. “You’re positively hopeless, Steve Harrington. What the fuck was that all about?” 
“I don’t know, Robs,” Steve sighed. “She was just—I didn’t even know what to say!”
“Clearly,” she snorted. “You looked like a gaping trout—”
“I did not—”
“This was worse than the girl who asked for a Mint-Choco Deluxe and you handed her a straight scoop of ice cream—no cone. I had to practically chase her out with a stack of napkins and a thousand apologies.”
Steve cringed at the memory. “Maybe…”
“When Keith hires her—and you know he’s gonna—you better get your act together. I don’t wanna deal with…this every day.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve waved. “Sure.”
And deal with it, she did. 
(Y/N) was her name, Steve had the pleasure of unpacking her new name tag for her first day. He almost wanted to keep it, but figured it would make him look like a crazed lunatic. Patiently, he waited by the front door, hoping to see her pull up in her car, ready and rearing for her first day on the job. Steve begged Robin to allow him the pleasure of training her, given he could somehow speak in her presence, of course. She simply rolled her eyes and agreed to the shift exchange. 
A shiny, cherry-red BMW peeled into the lot—Steve noted it looked awfully familiar to his own car, minus the color of course. It seemed a bit out of place in a small town like Hawkins, but the car had suited her just fine. Everything about her suited her kindly, Steve had noticed, especially the clothing she wore. Family Video was no place for a fashion show, Steve could attest to that himself, but with the way she was practically strutting towards the doors? The parking lot was her runway and he was begging to see more. 
“Good morning!” (Y/N) greeted cheerfully, pushing the glass door open wide.
“Morning,” Steve managed to squeak out. He pushed the unflattering green vest towards her. “Your uniform.” She easily slipped the fabric over her own shirt, the stark whiteness of her blouse really made the green pop.
“Well?” She spun around, twirling like a princess. “Do I look the part?”
Steve could only nod. 
“So what’s the first thing on the agenda? Do y’all have a time clock?”
Steve nodded again, pointing his thumb towards the break room.
“Ok..ay…” She said quietly, walking in the direction she was given.
He could cry—it was so pathetic. The way this girl had him so worked up? How was he expected to train her? No, forget training her, how was he supposed to even talk to her? Steve had been in pickles before, but this one took the cake.
“So you just… don’t speak then?”
She had managed to sneak up behind Steve, who had clearly been deep in thought. Her angelic voice alone made him jump. 
“I-I speak,” Steve explained. “I just… have a lot on my plate currently, s’all.”
“I’m sure working at the Family Video is real hard work, superstar,” she giggled, jumping up onto the countertop. “But I’m glad I don’t have to understand your training through charades."
“I’m pretty good at charades,” Steve said, crossing his arms. “O-or so I’m told…”
“I’ll take your word for it,” she smiled. “But seriously, I really thought you just didn’t want to talk to me or something.”
That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. 
“So… I should probably show you the computer system for rentals,” Steve tried changing the subject—poorly, but she graciously turned her attention to the computer she so-conveniently sat next to. “Y’know, because that’s like, the entire job.”
The girl leaned in, not daring to remove herself from the counter top, trying to see what Steve was clicking on. 
“You seem tense,” she noticed. 
“It takes me a while to get warmed up to new people,” he lied. 
“What? Like a cat?”
“…exactly like a cat.”
“Well, Steve,” she hopped off the counter, “it’s a good thing I like cats.”
He tried his best to hide the redness flooding his cheeks.
She made Family Video more enjoyable, even after her first shift, Steve thought. He already liked the job enough, spending time with his best friend and getting paid for it was already a huge perk, but now that he got to know her? He might just keep this job forever.
Forever lasted only four months. 
“Steve!”
He peeked his head over the horror aisle, finding (Y/N) staring at him expectantly from the front counter. 
“Yes?”
“I’m dying over here,” she said dramatically, falling over on the countertop. “It’s so… boring.”
“It’s a Monday morning,” Steve said simply, commanding every fiber in his being to not shrug at the statement. “Mondays are usually boring around here.”
“Everything about Hawkins is boring,” she said, not lifting her face up from the counter. “How do you manage living in this God-forsaken town?”
“I don’t think everything is boring,” Steve scoffed, ignoring the rest of the tapes that needed to be put away. His feet were already leading him towards the counter, as if they had a mind of their own. “I mean, I doubt you’ve run through everything this town's got to offer?”
She lifted her head up from the counter, a red mark gracing her forehead. “In the last four months of living here? I think I have. Hell, the one cool place y’all could have had burned to the ground.”
Steve winced at the mention of StarCourt, the wounds still fresh. “It wasn’t that cool…”
“Fine,” (Y/N) propped herself up, head in her hands, “name one cool place in Hawkins.”
“Skull Rock.”
He doesn’t know why he said it.
“Skull Rock?”
“Uh, yeah,” Steve sheepishly said, hand finding the back of his neck quickly. “It’s the go-to for the coolest kids in Hawkins—made popular by yours truly.”
“And what exactly is Skull Rock?” Her arms were neatly crossed by the time he managed to look back at her. 
A make-out spot.
“A-an… experience?” Steve squeaked, trying his best to sound cool. “It’s hard to explain, you just kinda gotta go and see for yourself.”
“Huh,” she tutted. “Why haven’t I heard of this Skull Rock until now? Certainly if it was as neat as you say it is I would’ve heard about it by now.”
“It’s underground,” Steve tried to convince her. “Not physically, I mean. It's above ground, I promise. Underground in the sense that only the cool kids know about it.”
She snorted. “Cool kids?”
“Y-yeah,” He tried to double down.
“As in, like, high schoolers?”
“Other people besides high schoolers can be cool kids, y’know,” Steve said, trying his best not to cough. 
“Maybe I’ll ask Robin about it when she comes in—”
“I could take you?” Steve is quick to interject. “To Skull Rock, I mean. Tonight, if you’re free.”
A smile crept across her ruby red lips. “Like a date?”
“Pshht, no,” Steve waved. “Like a thing friends do! An activity of sorts.”
“Sounds like a date.”
“An activity,” Steve corrected, feeling queasy at the thought she may actually say yes. 
As if mulling over her options for the evening, (Y/N) stared directly into Steve Harrington’s brown eyes, pinning him to the spot with such a glare. “Hm. Alright.”
“A-alright?”
“Do you think I have to change for this ‘activity’?” (Y/N) motioned her hands up and down her body, giving Steve actual permission to fully look at her. Her outfit was already sensible enough—she was here to work, after all—he didn’t ever see a reason for her to change.
“Maybe different shoes?” Steve offered, looking down at her feet, adorned with ruby red flats to match her lips. 
“What sort of shoes do you recommend? These are my favorite flats.”
“Sneakers. Something you don’t mind getting dirty—”
“I don’t mind getting these dirty.”
“Something more suitable for the forest,” Steve amended. “Sticks, mud, poison ivy. Would hate for the tops of your feet to succumb to that bullshit.”
“Succumb,” (Y/N) repeated. “Big word.”
“Average word,” Steve mumbled, feeling only a tad bit embarrassed.
“Average is fine,” she shrugged. “I have sneakers in my car. We could go after work?”
Six o’clock couldn’t have come faster. 
Steve had spent the last few hours of his shift trying to best plan his escape from Family Video—an escape that involved pulling (Y/N) into his car before Robin could tell her what Skull Rock really was. Thankfully, (Y/N) hadn’t had the mind to tell Robin what their plans were after work yet, but he knew it would come.
The minute hand finally ticked to the top of the clock. 6pm on the dot. Steve practically threw off his vest and ran to the wall clock to punch out.
“In a rush?” Robin asked. 
“Something like that,” Steve said, not wanting to share much more. 
“Well, enjoy yourself Rob!” (Y/N) nearly sang, now standing behind Steve waiting for her turn with the wall clock. “I left the counter nice and warm for you!”
“I know you meant that to sound endearing, but it just sounds gross,” Robin laughed, not even looking up from the book she had been reading. “Get out of here before Keith makes you both work overtime.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” (Y/N) said, pushing her pink sunglasses—which were housed in the tiny locker she used every day—onto her head. “Besides, we’ve got plans.”
“We?”
“Gotta go Robin!” Steve could only shout, pushing (Y/N) out of the small room in the back—it could hardly be called a break room. Containing a small T.V on the wall, a stack of lockers, a small fridge, quaint table and a broken microwave.
“Alright, weirdo,” (Y/N) laughed, “we made it outside.”
Steve hand only blinked, but she was right. Somehow he didn’t recall the jaunt from the break room to the front door, much less the fact they made it out to their cars. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” she laughed again, “oh.”
He was sure his face was the near same color as her lipstick—cherry red and probably emitting the heat of a thousand suns. “Are you gonna change your shoes?” Somehow he strung together a full sentence.
“Go start up your car, pretty boy,” (Y/N) said smoothly, “I’ll meet you in a second.”
Pretty boy. 
Start up his car, he did. He fumbled through the few cassette tapes he stored in his glove box, eager to find one she’d like. Though a thought like this had crossed his mind a handful of times, he never thought she’d actually agree to go out with him. No, not go out, this wasn’t a date. Right? 
She had called him pretty boy. 
And he was planning on taking her to the unofficial make out spot of Hawkins. 
Maybe it was a date. 
“There!” (Y/N) exclaimed, sliding into his passenger seat, showing off her worn shoes. “My well-loved sneakers! Just like you requested. How I allowed you to talk me into going to a random forest is beyond me.”
Me too. Steve thought. 
“You’re not going to murder me, right?”
“What!?” Steve had already begun driving to their destination, but her sudden question had him nearly swerving off the road. “No!”
“That’s what a murderer would say.”
“I—why would I…?” Steve was at a loss for words. “If I was going to murder you, don’t you think I’d admit to it at this point?”
“No,” she shrugged, crossing her legs. Her sneakers were red too—her favorite color, perhaps? “I assume you’d admit it right before you kill me, not in transit to the murder location.”
Steve could only laugh. “You confuse me.”
“You love me,” she admonished. 
Maybe he did, and if he didn’t? He certainly could see himself, though, sooner than later. 
It only took another fifteen minutes of driving to reach their destination, parking his beloved BMW in a spot he knew all too well—part of himself cringed that he could admit that, even to just himself. “We’re here.”
“I’m still not convinced you’re not going to murder me,” (Y/N) hummed, hopping out of the car, a spring in her step. 
He couldn’t help but chuckle, popping his trunk to dig for a blanket he knew he had left behind for one reason or another. “Come on,” he ducked his head towards a clearing, “it’s this way.”
“You really have to start explaining the appeal, Harrington,” (Y/N) said, pushing past a rather suspicious looking bush, following closely behind Steve. “This trek is nothing to scoff at.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I thought the murder accusations already confirmed that I did not?”
“Yet you still got into a car with me,” Steve said.
“I still got into a car with you,” she repeated. 
As if on cue, Skull Rock, in all of its glory, peeked through the brush and into view—thankfully with no one else around. 
“We made it!” Steve exclaimed, nearly impressed he remembered how to get here. Quickly unfurling the blanket he grabbed, he sat on the ground. “Come on, I promise it’s clean.”
“Doubting that,” she said, still sitting beside him. “So, spill it, what makes this place so cool?”
Steve took a deep breath. 
“I, uh, may have stretched the truth a bit?”
“How far?”
“Huh?”
“How far did you stretch the truth?”
��Not by much…”
“You’re sweating,” she pointed. 
“No I’m not!” Steve said, trying his very best to not look down at his pits, afraid they were betraying him. Looking back up at the girl sitting beside him, her ruby lips were twisted in a wicked smirk. “You’re making fun of me.”
“Nah,” she said, almost sounding honest. “But I also know pretty well what goes on around this rock—sick as fuck, by the way, it really looks like a skull.”
“You know about Skull Rock?” He was nearly dejected, embarrassed, even.
“I do.”
“And you still came here with me?”
“If it meant I could spend some time with you outside of work? Sure,” she said with her brilliant smile. “Though, don’t expect any swapping of saliva.”
“Then why…?”
Her knees tucked under her chin, arms wrapped fully around them. “I don’t have many friends here. You and Robin kind of are it for me, at least, since I moved here. I figured I should try and spend time with y’all before I move again.”
Her big move. The one she was saving up for. 
“Back to Chicago, right?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Though, it’s going to be a while until I do actually move. Who knew trying to rent your own apartment in a big city is stupid expensive? Wait—don’t answer that, that’s a stupid fucking observation.”
“It’s a bit silly,” he agreed, trying his best not to laugh. “But, yeah, way more expensive than Hawkins.”
The sun had begun to set, not that they could see it, through the trees and all, but the sky was now a warm orange. The kind of color that reminded Steve of summer, melted creamsicles and sweet memories.
“What’s in Chicago, anyway?” Steve finally asked, eyes glued to the sky. The question had been on the tip of his tongue since he met her. “I mean, I never really hear you talk much about it—only when you feel the need to dig at Hawkins.”
“It’s where I grew up,” she shrugged. “All of my friends are out there, my life is out there.”
“I mean, you did just say Robin and I were your friends?” He offered, leaning back on his hands. 
She narrowed her gaze, pulling her head up from her knees ever-so-slightly. “Most of my friends are out there,” she corrected. “I just… my dad moved out here for work, a job he literally can’t tell us about—my mom is stuck being some bored housewife waiting every night for him to come home, slaving over a home cooked meal, and I’m just his failure of a daughter who works at a video store.”
Steve knows that feeling a bit too well. 
“It doesn’t even have to be Chicago,” she chuckled, mostly to herself. “I just can’t stay here. My forward thinking mind is too big for this town. I figure, maybe in the city I can find myself, figure out what this planet has in store for me, you know?”
“I do.”
“You do?”
“I mean, I never had the thought to leave Hawkins,” Steve said, still looking up at the sky—darker now, but still orange. “Especially now with all of the…”
How does he explain the Upside Down? Does he explain the Upside Down? No. She doesn’t need to know. Not yet, anyway.
“…you know, the missing people,” he finally said, finding the right explanation. “But the idea of going to a big city, finding my way and maybe figuring out what this big head is good for?” His self deprecating laugh echoed from under the large rock formation. “I get it.”
“Y’know,” (Y/N) relaxed her grip on her knees, “my mom had hesitations about moving here because of the missing people—afraid I was going to go missing too.”
“And your dad still moved you here anyway?” Steve still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact people would move here willingly, especially all that’s been in the news about their small town. 
“I told you, big secret job,” she said, as if that was the only answer. “My dad’s answer to the problem was buying my mom a new kitchen set and me a car.”
“The BMW?”
“Hell yeah,” she snorted. “Though I suppose once I get to the city—any of them, I’ve decided—I’ll sell it. No need for a car if you’ve got decent public transit. I wonder how much I can get for it?”
“Probably less than what you’re thinking.”
“You’re probably right.”
The sun had finally set, leaving a hazy, sort of mystical hue over the rock and clearing. 
“You could come with me, you know,” (Y/N) finally spoke up. 
“Huh?”
“Get out of Hawkins? Lord knows I’d need a roommate. Rent is gonna be insane regardless.”
He pondered the thought. Moving out of this God-forsaken town with practically the girl of his dreams? It sounded too good to be true. “Huh.”
“You obviously don’t have to answer right now,” she said, nearly flustered. Was she flustered? “It was just a dumb thought…”
“It’s not dumb,” he said steadily, truthfully. “Not dumb at all.”
“What? You’re actually considering it?”
“Don’t ask me things if you’re not serious about them,” Steve joked, pointing at her. “I mean, it sounds pretty perfect. Leaving Hawkins, making a way for myself, trying to not rely on my parents… I dunno. Something to think about.”
She only nodded.
“Of course, I can’t leave yet,” Steve corrected, mostly to himself. “I have… unfinished business.”
“Ominous,” she snorted. 
“A man has his secrets,” he smirked, turning to look at her. “Not murder-y secrets, I really can’t stress that one enough.”
“Handsome, funny and mysterious, the full package,” she hummed.
“You think I’m handsome?”
“I don’t want to stroke your ego,” (Y/N) said. “Surely you know you’re handsome.”
“I didn’t know you thought I was handsome.”
“I think everyone thinks you’re handsome,” her eyebrow raised. “Especially all those girls who come in to rent movies I know for a fact they have no interest in. Robin says you had a similar effect back at the ice cream place.”
“You’ve talked to Robin about my handsomeness?”
“I’ve talked to Robin about your obliviousness,” she corrected, “I think there’s a difference.”
He felt like his brain was melting. If he had a mirror, he’d check his ears to make sure no pink matter was dripping out. “But you think I’m handsome?” If the lighting hadn’t been as low as it was, he’d probably be able to see just how dark her cheeks had become.
“Irrelevant.”
He found the courage to scoot a little closer to her. “I mean, I think it’s pretty relevant… considering I think you’re pretty handsome too.”
Her head couldn’t have turned faster.
“Beautiful! I meant beautiful! Not that you can’t be handsome,” Steve felt himself choking on his own foot, falling deeper into a hole he knew he couldn’t get out of. “If you’d rather be called handsome, that’s fine by me, but traditionally, you’re stunning—so so pretty and I—”
“Steve—”
“A-and I’m messing this up,” Steve deflates. The crickets around Skull Rock must have been paid actors at this point. Steve made a mental note to bring a can of Raid the next time he came here—revenge of some sorts. “I can’t believe I’m messing this up.”
Something slightly wet touched his cheek.
“I don’t think you’re messing anything up,” (Y/N) said, pulling away from his face. She kissed his cheek. “I think you’re a little silly and overthinking a lot, though.”
“You kissed me?”
“I kissed your cheek, no need to short-circuit,” she smiled softly. “I figured it was a good way to bring you back down to Earth. Did it work?”
He nodded, a bit too fast for his liking. “Uh, yeah. I think so.”
“Good,” she said, so sure of herself. “You were really spiraling there for a moment.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I was.”
More crickets. 
“Would you have kissed Robin on the cheek? If she was spiraling like that?”
“No,” she said honestly. “Just you.”
“Oh.”
“You took me to the make-out spot of Hawkins,” (Y/N) gestured to the rock above them. “Did you expect me to not kiss you?”
“You kissed my cheek,” he clarified, feeling bolder. “I don’t think that counts.”
“Hm,” she tapped her chin in faux-thought. “It probably doesn’t.”
“I could let you try again?”
“Oh you’d let me?” She crossed her arms, voice airy, light.
“Or I could kiss you,” he shrugged. “Dealers choice.”
“Oh what endless options I have,” she laughed, getting up from the blanket. It was only a little scratchy. “Come on, pretty boy, it’s getting late. My mom is probably worried sick I haven’t made it home yet. Probably waiting by the front window with some terrible dinner in the oven, I assume.”
She offered her hand, helping Steve up off the ground. “You’re probably right.”
“This was nice,” she said, walking back to the car. “Thanks for taking me out here, Steve. I finally found the one good thing in Hawkins.”
“Skull Rock is just that impressive, huh?” Steve laughed, his smile reaching his eyes.
“Something like that,” her smile was just as big. 
--
BONUS: “Pop your trunk, I’ll put this nasty blanket away,” (Y/N) said, circling to the back of Steve’s car.
“It’s not that nasty,” he snorted, fulfilling her request. Climbing into his car and starting up the engine, he waited for her to throw the scrap of fabric in the back. In the corner of his eye, he could see her through the mirror, staring intently at the contents of his trunk. “How long does it take to put a blanket away?” He sighed, hopping back out of the car to join her, realizing quickly why she was just staring in his trunk. 
“Y’know,” she clicked, “this doesn’t really help the whole ‘I’m not gonna murder you’ thing.”
In her hands was his tried and true baseball bat—still outfitted with spiky nails and the very essence of dried blood. 
“I-I can explain—”
“You probably can,” she said, throwing the bat back into the trunk, slamming it shut. “How about over dinner sometime?”
He’d be stupid to say no.
187 notes · View notes
hoshigray · 9 months
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Sweet Blind Summer Fling ༄ S. Gojo
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"Due to a bet made by Nobara, I made an online dating account to set myself up with a blind date. Although a bit witty and annoyingly childish, Gojo's remarkably handsome and sweet...So, how the hell did I end up sleeping with him on the first date!?"
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A/n: Alright, y'all, it's time for the second entry for my summer series!! Not gonna lie, it was fun to write as it's my first time writing for Gojo. I think I did a decent job capturing his character in my style, but you will be the judge of that. This was supposed to be posted on Monday, but I was overwhelmed (had 1 hour of sleep) and dropped something else. But we're good to go now! :) And fyi: there's a bonus scene at the end that sets up the next story as they are connected. Any spelling/grammar errors will be dealt with tomorrow.
Also, guest appearances from my lovely mooties (@cu7ie // @kazushawty // @etherealxmaya // @hqkalon // @yourrfavzxri // @neptunes1nterweb) because I felt like it, lol. Hope this puts a smile on their faces if they see this :3
Series m. list!! This entry has been updated along w/ its contents.
Cw: switch! Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content, so minors DNI - blind date/online match-up - age difference (the reader is at least in their 20s; Gojo is around early 30s) - texting back and forth - sex at a hotel - one night stands - consensual sex under the influence - protected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - cowgirl + lotus positions - pet names (angel, baby, dollface, pretty, princess, sweet thing) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - praise - mentions of drug/alcohol use (reader and Gojo don't get blackout drunk, but y'all get tipsy) - a bunch of silliness bc it's a Gojo fic (duh).
Wc: 6.9k (7.4k with the bonus scene...never say I don't do anything for y'all)
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Dear Diary...I once again have come to you with more thoughts that cloud my personal judgment. I did not think you'd be of use to me again. But after what happened last night, it's worth having you in front of me and a pen in my hand again once more...
After finishing your finals, summer break has finally welcomed you with open arms. Two semesters of painful studying and sleepless nights have been long forgotten since you turned in your last in-person exam! You've started working at an internship that you've been dying to get, enjoying the new things you're learning from experienced colleagues, and finding love in the field you've grown and studied for this entire time.
In addition, you also have all the time in the world to hang out with your best friends — Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara! Just last weekend, you four hung out at this new sports bar that recently opened and had the most fun experience! Yuuji made new friends with people at the bar who kept buying him drinks; Megumi had to begrudgingly watch over the salmon-haired other to ensure he didn't croak from alcohol poisoning, and you and Nobara took sweet pictures together for your summer album.
It's been a great summer so far. There has been nothing that could bring you down from enjoying this season in the best way you can. Absolutely nothing that could throw you off your summer grove!
However, that's what you initially thought. Because why else would you be in some random hotel room writing in your diary.
To get the full context, I'll take you back to the night I and the gang left the sports bar. We spent the night at Yuuji's as he and Nobara tried to sober up...
It was a chill evening in your friend's place, you and the other three in the living room chatting with the television on low to not disrupt his sleeping grandfather. Yuuji was sobering up by eating bread and drinking water, Megumi was on the couch reading something on his phone, and you were arguing with Nobara.
The auburn-haired other points to you with her index, holding a glass of water. "I told ya, you lost the bet!"
"How!? You literally cheated!" You push her finger out of the way as you two giggle at your complaints. "You kicked Yuuji in the shin to distract him, and I didn't even know I was a part of the damn thing!"
Now your pink-haired friend jumped to say words of his own. "That was foul with what you did; I should've fallen to the floor and acted like I was really hurt. Have you paying my medical bills."
"Blah, blah, blah, sounds like a losers' pleas to me." Nobora rolls her eyes while you and Yuuji glare at her. "And you! You didn't say you were out of the game, unlike Megumi. I said, and I quote: 'When the wings touch the table, the bet is on,' and guess what? By the time the wings got here, I didn't hear a single peep out of you saying you forfeited from the challenge! Once you picked up a single wing, your ass was set in stone!"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, you annoying bitch..." you groan in your hands as the woman maniacally barks her laughs. "Alright, fine, I ate the shortest portion of wings. Therefore, I, Y/n L/n, declare myself the loser to this fuckery of a challenge. So, Queen Cheater," Nobara snickers to herself at the title you've given her. "What is my punishment?"
You should've known by the evil twinge of your friend's lip that the punishment would be absurd. "I, Queen Cheater," she takes a confident swig of her water before sealing your fate. The words she says next shake to your core, and the decline of your dignity hits you like a bullet train. "...Hereby dare you, the loser, to make an online dating account and find thyself a blind date!"
Your disapproval fell on deaf ears, forcing you to resentfully grab your phone and download a dating app. To make matters worse, you had to make the account with your friends watching (minus Megumi, who still wanted no part in what you all were doing). Once you were done setting up your profile, the three of you looked to the screen to look at the other users, who were also on a quest to find a sense of courtship.
The past thirty minutes have been spent looking at all the users around the area, swiping left and right for those who did and didn't pique your interest.
Todo Aoi (22) "I like 'em tall, with a FAT ASS. If you don't fit the criteria, it's gonna be hard to convince me."
Oh, brother.
Sol (18) "Don't know about a long-term relationship, but we can be chill if ya wanna be friends! :D"
Seems nice. Maybe a chat wouldn't hurt.
Mei Mei (36) Don't ever expect me to pay for the first date or any date. Will you see me again depends on what you have in your savings. ♡
Alright, I appreciate the honesty. But nope.
Karma (20) "Tbh I'm secretly married to my four wives: Hoshi, Maya, Sae, and Zari. But if you look like or are Toji Fushiguro, hit my DMs pronto!! Shhhh, don't tell Hoshi tho, she might divorce me :P"
Okay then—Wait, isn't that Megumi's dad??
Hoshi (20s) Don't listen to Karma. We are very much divorced, and my heart belongs to my one and only: Toji Fushiguro :/
Alrighty then...
Sapphire (19) "Call me MLK, cuz I had a dream about us 🫦"
Fucking no!
Frustration keens in through a heavy sigh. Usually, you'd be happy knowing you can't seem to find a match; however, for this situation, Nobara Kugisaki will not let you off the hook until there's someone worthy of the swipe of invitation. You groan in exhaustion, throwing your head back onto the couch behind you.
With no luck, you decided to call it a night and try again later. So you called an Uber, took yourself home after saying goodbyes to your friends, and reluctantly promised Nobara you'd let her know if you'd get a blind date. With a nice shower and some comfortable PJs, you're now lying comfortably on your bed and looking through all the pictures you took tonight. Then, for some reason, you had the urge to go back on the dating app to look through more users to match up with. Probably because you'd prefer to get this bet out of the way now than later. Regardless of the justification, you spend about twenty minutes swiping and reading through many other people's profiles, and — just like before — not many people catch your eye.
That holds true until you stumble upon a name and description that sparks your curiosity.
Satoru Gojo (old enough to be irresistible; 31) "I was made perfect, I can do everything perfectly, but I want us to be perfect together (・ω<;)☆"
It might've been the use of the emoticon or the confidence that seeped out based on the tiny description. Whatever the case, you stayed on the user's profile for quite a while longer than the others. Even going far as to read his profile thoroughly: knowing what his likes and dislikes are, his height, a fan of Digimon, and so on.
And you contemplated whether or not to swipe him to the side of approval, but you made up your mind after a few minutes of inner discourse. It's not like I'll match up with him immediately. So, you gave him the go and continued on with your search.
Although, that was short-lived because what happened next surprised you to the point that sleep no longer claimed over you.
"Contratz! You've successfully matched with Satoru Gojo!"
Wait, what!!??
You were utterly perplexed by the pop-up showing up on your phone screen. There's no way this was happening, all under the same night, too! And what surprised you the most was the fact that he was awake as well, sending you the first message:
gogojojo: Hey!
Oh, fucking shit. Your body tenses at the greeting, reading his username and message repeatedly. Quickly, you take a few deep breaths to ease yourself before doing something stupid. You answer him with a salutation of your own:
y/ndontwannabehere: Hi there!
gogojojo: A night owl too, huh? Couldn't sleep?
y/ndontwannabehere: Yeah, was just on my phone for a bit, until I saw your message.
gogojojo: Lucky me! I was surprised to have you as a match, I saw your profile about an hour ago.
y/ndontwannabehere: I'm also surprised as well, you're one of the few people who I seemed interested in.
gogojojo: Well, I'm flattered :D Now that you got my attention, what would you like to know about me?
y/ndontwannabehere: Okay...it says you're six-foot-three, how's that like?
gogojojo: I may be six-foot-three, but I'd like to be six feet under you ;3
y/ndontwannabehere: ......
......I regret giving this dude a chance.
Because of the terrible pick-up line, you closed off the app and turned off your phone to switch the lights off and go to sleep. However, another text sends your phone vibrating on the dresser's surface.
gogojojo: Woooow, not even a pity laugh? :/
You shake your head at the notification, but a smile creeps up when you open your phone and tap on the keys to message back.
y/ndontwannabehere: nope, that sucked ass.
gogojojo: Hey now!! >:T you can't say it's ass if it did what it was supposed to do
y/ndontwannabehere: and what's that?
gogojojo: got you here talking with me ヾ(●ε●)ノ
His message makes your smile broader, and you spend the rest of the night talking to Gojo.
It continues for two more weeks, sharing pieces of info about yourselves while rolling your eyes at his annoying jokes and pick-up lines. But for the most part, you enjoy your talks with the stranger on the other side of your screen.
And it all goes swell until he drops this:
gogojojo: Hey! Wanna go on a date with me this weekend?
You were lying on your bed watching Netflix, and you almost choked on your dinner when the message popped up. So in tune with the back-and-forth between you and Gojo that you had forgotten why you made an online dating account in the first place! You grab for your phone to reply:
y/ndontwannabehere: you're serious?!
gogojojo: yeah! I mean, you and I've been talking for a while, I'm kinda into you, plus we could meet up somewhere close. Besides, I would like to see you, and I know you're dying to see me too :)
y/ndontwannabehere: And what makes you think I'd DIE just to see you?
gogojojo: Because why would you not~? You'd be surprised by how many people I've had fallen head-over-heels for me~
y/ndontwannabehere: well, guess I'll be the first one to not be >:3
gogojojo: HUH!!?? Don't say that, I'll cry
y/ndontwannabehere: LMAO grown ass man crying over rejection
gogojojo: Rejection hurts, and I have a weak heart!! :'000
y/ndontwannabehere: Liar.
gogojojo: ANYWAYS! You up for a date?
And that's how you started dressing yourself up on a Friday afternoon, fixing yourself up in front of your bedroom mirror. Checking your phone periodically for Gojo to tell you when he's in front of your home.
You already texted Nobara that you got a blind date, to which she praised you with monumental amounts of supportive text messages and emojis and a text stating she'll throttle you if you don't tell her all about it. It was humorous: you created the online dating account because of a stupid bet for a random date — and now that it was here, you didn't know how to feel. You can't say when was the last time you ever went out with someone, let alone on a blind date! Anxiousness shadows you about the whole thing, but after chatting and getting to know a little bit of Gojo, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad of a date.
After all, the guy seems likable and fun to hang out with based on your interactions. Plus, it's only a date. That's all it is. Absolutely nothing attached in any shape or form.
Thoughts grind to a halt when you hear your phone vibrating on your dresser, a text from Gojo.
gogojojo: I'm here~~~ Ready to fall madly in love with me? :3
Your heart skips a beat at the message, biting the bottom of your lip in nervousness. You send him a reply:
y/ndontwannabehere: Nah, ready to barf right in front of your face :P
gogojojo: Such a rude person :/ Get your butt out here
You giggle before shutting off your phone and grabbing your bag with all your necessary items. Before you leave, you look in the mirror one last time, using this moment to mentally prepare yourself for what's to come. The day has come; you're about to go on a date. No going back now, and I can finally put this dumb bet to rest!
You open your front door and enter outside, the summer heat crawling on your legs from your cute jean shorts and your shoulders excluded from the cream-white cami top. You see a black car — a black 2018 BMW XI — parked right on the street, windows tinted to hide the face you're looking for. But when you draw closer to the vehicle, the passenger side window slides down, and you finally meet him.
The man of the hour himself, the man you've been talking with for two weeks straight, and the man you were about to experience a complete mess of a date with: Satoru Gojo.
"Hey there," his voice was chipper and friendly; his texting style matched his speech. From the window, you can interpret his outfit: a blue flannel shirt covering his white Tee and black jeans with a silver chain emanating from his belt. His eyes were blocked by dark circle sunglasses, making it hard to decipher the color. But his snow-white hair was the first thing that caught your eye, contrasting with the black interior of his car. "Y/n, right?"
You smile at your name. "Correct, Mr. Gogojojo."
He snickers at the use of his username. "You look cute, and I know you like what you see since you were eyeballing me up and down."
"Yeah, whatever." You roll your eyes before opening the passenger door, putting your bag between your legs as you sit down. While putting on your seatbelt, you can feel the bass subtlety vibrate within the car, and the music was...What the fuck? You look at the front integrated head unit on the dashboard and see what artist the man is listening to. "...You listen to Zack Fox?"
"Yeah, I was listening to his songs on my way here! You know his song Marinate?" And before you could answer, the white-haired man sang along to the lyrics. To your perplexity, you just watch him rap along with the artist and the outlandish lyrics. And he just keeps going until the transition to the second verse. "Funny, right?"
"You know," you shake your head at Gojo, whose grin goes wider. "I was about to fall for you until you started rapping the lyrics."
"Whaaaat, he's a comedian, it's meant to be funny!"
"Whatever. Let's just hurry and get this date over with."
"Oh, sounds like someone's ready to be wined and dined by me." He starts the car and shifts between gears. "Don't rush things, princess. Good things come to those who wait."
"Just drive!"
Gojo laughs at your complaints as he drives off on the street. You playfully groan to yourself at your date's antics, looking out to the window to watch your surroundings move past your line of sight.
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"Ever since high school, I would eat a pack of gummies anytime I was doing homework because it stimulates my brain and helps me focus. So by the time college came around, I got so used to eating sweets that I naturally started liking them." Gojo took a sip of his milkshake. "But then, when my best friend and I went to our first house party, I had my first drink. And, Y/n."
"Oh God, what?"
"The taste was so bad that I tried downing it all in one chug. Well, that came back to bite my ass — and my best friend got the worst of it."
"Gojo, what did you do?"
"He was sitting down on a couch talking to someone, and I was behind the couch feeling all squeamish. So, before I could stop myself, I barfed on his hair!"
"Oh, my God, No!!" And the two of you roar in laughter and bang on the booth table you were sitting at.
The date was at an old, vibrant diner in the city where Gojo is a regular customer; the cozy and welcoming atmosphere had you erase any anxious feelings about this date and feel a little more confident. You and Gojo took things slow, you talking about your summer internship and him of his job as a high school teacher.
The conversation started the topic of summer break came to play, prompting you to talk more about yourself and your friends. That flipped the switch entirely as you became more open about your friends and their goofiness. And as a goofy man, Gojo was intrigued with your stories and had him reminiscent of memories from his youth. Although, you've come to find out that Gojo takes his playful nature to a whole other level, and it's been having you two laugh about said foolishness for the past hour.
"The funny thing is, right, he was talking to this sophomore girl that was eyeing him up the whole time we were there," Gojo says through wheezes. "And he was finally talking to this chick, and she was really getting into him. I didn't mean to intrude on his parade or anything, but as my best friend, you're supposed to help me through thick and thin. I was going to ask if it was okay if I headed to the dorm alone while he stayed at this party. And then, vomit happened."
"Ewww, you terrible friend!" You try to eat a fry from your meal, but your giggles make dining difficult. "No wonder he pranked you with a weed brownie."
"Jokes on him; I still nailed my presentation for my exam. I don't remember saying anything I said, but I take pride in whatever I did to get that A." He takes a big bite of his burger and swallows before saying more. "And I started seeing the sophomore girl he talked to afterward, so checkmate."
You gasp at the information and throw a piece of your food at him, which he effortlessly catches with his hand and eats. "You petty bastard! I'm on your friend's side all the way."
"No regrets!" He hits you with his annoying chuckle that has you smiling hard, and the light above your table makes his dark sunglasses shine chicly.
"Oh, yeah?" You inquire. "I bet I could make you regret it."
The man on the other side of the booth scoffs. "Is that so? And how are you gonna do that, my pretty princess?"
You didn't think he'd buy your bluff. So, the truth is, you had no idea of how'd you punish the snow-haired man. Looking around the diner, you scope for anything that sparks a concept. You then turn to his side and notice a booth at the far end. A woman was laughing with her friends and sipping on a cocktail, making a slightly sour face after taking a drink.
And then it hits, along with a sneer, and you peer back to your date.
"You don't like alcohol, right?" He quirks up a brow at your question. "How many times have you had a drink in your life?"
"Three or four."
"Well then, I dare you to drink three or four cocktails. No milkshake or water to help you get through. Just the ice cubes in the drink."
White brows furrow, and even if the shades block them from your interpretation, you can tell Gojo is studying your face in deep thought with your so-called punishment. Ten seconds go by before he scoffs again. "I'll take up on that. On one condition," he leans back on the booth seat. "You have to take the drinks with me as well."
Now it's your turn to raise a brow and think about his words. "You're paying for the drinks."
"Done deal." He pulls his hand outward to you, initiating a handshake to set the seal in stone before continuing on with this game of yours. You happily shake his hand, commencing the punishment to officially start.
One cocktail was a breeze for you but a bit of a doozy for Gojo to stomach; you had to warn him that if he barfed on you, you'd ditch him and block him for life. Two cocktails in is when you begin feeling tingly. Your date was going through it halfway into the glass, so you had to compromise that a glass of water was needed for him.
Three cocktails in, and you undoubtedly feel the alcohol hit you behind its sweet and tangy facade. You can hardly look at the drink, same with Gojo. You two look at each other and shake your heads in disagreement, pushing the glasses to the side and groaning with your now-drunk selves.
Gojo is the first to say something. "As far as disciplines go, that was, without a doubt, one of the worst things I've had to endure."
You giggle. "Honestly. But I—hic! Excuse me. I bet you're regretting throwing up on your friend's hair now. I did it for his sake, after all."
He only looks at you through his glasses. He then gets up from his side of the booth and walks to yours, and you scoot over to let him have a seat. "Nah, don't regret it one bit. Because if I hadn't done it, I wouldn't have you over here laughing and suffering in alcohol with me about it." He maneuvers his hand to rest on your shoulder, and you allow him to move closer to you. "Wouldn't be spending this fun evening with you."
Your eyes hesitantly venture up to his face, welcoming you to the tension that builds up with the lighting and soft music of the diner. His hand rubs on your shoulder in a comforting manner, a gesture you take note of even under the influence. "You know, since you're enjoying having me and all, don't you think I should have a reward for doing your punishment with you."
"And what reward do you have in mind?"
"Can I see them?" You use a finger to motion your own pair of eyes, resulting in the snow-haired man in a short chuckle. But he doesn't argue with you and uses his free hand to remove his shades.
Icy blue is the first thing that comes to mind when you look at his eyes. His orbs are a rarity to the usual crowd, yet they go perfectly with his peachy complexion and pale hair. His orbs hooded and honed in on your figure, appearing soft because of the slight rosy shade of pink on his cheeks. You take in every single feature of his face before speaking.
"Well, I'm starting to see why so many people fall for you, Mr. Gojo." Your face goes hot with the sudden confidence that sneaks within you, yet you continue. "You're very attractive."
He chortles at your comment. "Thanks, dollface. But I don't think it's fair that you only get a reward from me. After all, I almost drowned in alcohol."
You hum. "Fair enough. What would you like?"
His face doesn't change with the following sentence he utters, but you take note of the slight squeeze on your shoulder. "A kiss from the princess would sure warm my heart."
Brows draw upward and breath hitches. A kiss? On the first date? On a blind date?
You don't know what possessed you to do this — it might have been the cocktails. But you incline your face to his and move forwards, your plump lips land on his soft ones for a simple kiss. And with the low hum of his voice, you place another. And another.
When you remove yourself from him, his eyes open to meet yours. A smile gets broader, and so does yours. "You taste sweet," you say.
"So do you." His fingers toy with the strap of your cami top. "Kinda want to kiss you more. And, you know, do a little more, only if you're up for it."
You give him a look. "I believe I just gave you a reward after receiving yours."
"I know, I know," he raises his other hand defensively, but he doesn't remove his smirk. "That's why it's up to you."
You only look at him as he waits for your answer. You already kissed the man; what more is supposed to happen on a blind date? Thoughts on what to do are carefully calculated in your mind, remembering the reason why you're even on this date in the first place. Without Nobara's stupid bet, none of this would be conspiring. Yet simultaneously, it's not like you were having a terrible time. If anything, it was quite the opposite. Not once did you feel uncomfortable around Gojo's presence or feel the need to call off the date. Just enjoying his company and character that attracts you to him more. Even if it means spending the entire night with him.
I'm already deep into this night. What's the use of stopping now.
"So?" Your eyes peer up and down on his figure. "What does 'a little more' entail?"
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One moment you and Gojo were enjoying each other's company at a diner, then the date was moved to a different location the next. Now you and the white-haired man are in a cozy hotel nearby. You expressed your worries about Gojo driving you two to the new spot as he still had alcohol in his system. But your complaints fell on deaf ears as he persuaded you into trusting him ("Don't worry, it's like three streets away! Plus, it's almost midnight. No one's on the street." "If you crash us into a pole or something, don't ever ask to talk to me again." "Duly noted~" )
The two of you got yourself into a small hotel room. Soft lighting from the lamps bathes nude bodies lying on the comfortable queen-sized. You mount on top of Gojo, a makeout session warming the two of you up with the exchange of body heat. Sucking and biting each other's lips, his big hand at the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, and the grind of your hips on his firm erection makes the throbbing sensation between your legs flourish with your slick painting him.
His kisses trail down to your neck, and you allow him to venture below your clavicle. Pillowy lips pepper your chest and eventually find your breasts, taking a hardened nipple into his warm mouth.
A sharp cry exits your mouth when Gojo lightly teases your nipple with his teeth. "Mmmm! G-Gojo, pleaseee, I want it," your words come out in whimpers, your body quivering as your cunt brushes against his erect cock shielded by a rubber.
"Is that so, dollface?" He coos at your pleas, his hand running up and down the cusp of your ass and slender fingers teasing your aching entrance every time they draw nearer. "Then go on, ride on my dick like you want to."
His permission has your face go hot, but you station your hands on his chest to propel you upwards, admiring the view of him below you for a moment before lifting your ass. He moves his hands behind his head to relax, signaling you to do the work yourself and at your own pace. And with that, you do.
Your bottom raises until you position the tip of his shaft on the squish lips of your folds. Your breath hitches at the contact of his glans. His smooth voice coaxes you. "Relax, sweet thing. Take your time." You take a few moments to even your breathing and mentally prep you for your following actions. Hips gradually go down and push the cockhead further between your folds. Entry is prompted through the pain with every breath, and a sharp gasp lets you know that his girth finally enters you. And Gojo moans as well.
"Hmmm, that's it." He comments sweetly, his blue orbs tracing the union of your sexes. His hands now snake to your hips, and he throws his head back on the pillow under him. "Ready when you are, princess."
When you're ready, you move your hips downward to take in more of his member, the size of him widening your folds to accommodate the foreign limb intruding inside your vulva. His curve nudging your inner walls has your legs quake, and you concentrate on not being hasty and taking his cock all in one go. So once you finally meet the base, you exhale shaky and use a few seconds for your body to adjust.
Knowing you have the reins, you start to move. You start off with a slow speed, letting the feeling of his dick rub your walls in a steady position. Your whining is muffled with the bite of your lip, but not the man below you. He proudly expresses his pleasure in his moans, the hold on your hips getting tighter.
"Haaahhh, so good and tight," Gojo purrs, egging you to dial up your tempo. He notices you biting the bottom of your lip, and he chuckles. "Come on, baby. I wanna hear that cute voice of yours. Lemme hear it all." He then surprises you with a sudden thrust, evoking a choked cry from puffy lips.
You get the memo then and just let the pornographic noises fly, every moan getting higher and louder with the pace of your hips. His length drilling within you with each intake, and you lean forward for your clitoris to stimulate with the friction, causing you to jerk. You can't tell if it's because of the sex or the cocktails from hours ago making your nerves so sensitive and tender. But in any case, it makes you feel so good right now.
And when you lean back, the feeling gets even more ecstatic, resulting in more mewls from you. His dick goes even further than before, grazing your sweet spots and walls with precision with your increased speed. You swerve your hips in circles, having the man groan. To counter, his hand snakes down to your clitoris to play and pinch on, and you scream.
"Ahhhnn! Haaaah, Gojo! It feels so," the sounds of your ass smacking on his things are now apparent to the ears. The raunchy squelching noises of your cunt embarrass you; however, you can't deny the grip your cunt has on his cock with every rock. Your mind slowly descends into a dreamy haze. "Nnnmph!! Feels too goood, wanna commme..."
He opens his eyes to look at you; the erotic display of your nude body bouncing on his shaft turns him on even more. "Yeah, wanna come with me?" You nod lazily, earning another chortle from the man beneath you. "Alright, stay still for me."
It takes you aback when he suddenly moves up from the bed, sitting with his legs crossed under your ass and his handsome face too close to yours. You instinctively avert your gaze away from the frosty-headed other, bashfully turning your face to the side. It amuses him, guiding your face back to him with his hand. "Hehe, don't be scared of me, angel. I wanna see that beautiful face of yours."
Again, you can't tell whether or not it's the effect of the alcohol, but your face and ears go uncomfortably hot at his compliments. And now that his face is so close to yours, you can clearly take in his features. His sky-blue eyes were extremely fixated with yours, softly hooded with the flutter of his snow eyelids and in contrast with his rosy cheeks. Your heart skips a beat. What is with this beautiful motherfucker?! "Stop flirting with me in the middle of this..."
He laughs at your sheepishness, kissing your cheek. "Flirting with you is what got you here in the first place, baby. Now," his hands slither down your ass, squeezing the flesh with his fingers. "I'm gonna start moving — get ready."
He waits for you to wrap your arms around his neck and lift yourself from his legs before he begins moving his pelvis. The rash jabs of his cock leave you gasping for air and clasping around him. He hisses to your ear with his arms now wrapped around your back as he brings up the rhythm of his hips. You're now forced to bounce onto his crossed legs, his dick scraping your insides deliciously so that you can't think properly.
It's now that everything feels better than before; his member now achieving deeper penetration to the point of hitting your G-spot accurately with the underside of him. You no longer try to suppress the sounds leaving your lips, your wails bringing life to the hotel room. And Gojo's moans get louder and louder when your legs slither around him, and your ass matches the climbing cadence.
"Oooooh, fuck, Gojo! Shit, shit—Mmaah!!" With every rut to your cunt, you can feel the pounding of your head get louder and louder. "Oh, Christ, it feels tew good, so gooood...!!"
"Hnngh, mmmnph!!" Gojo groans at the pleasure, placing his sweaty forehead on yours. His eyes survey your certified expression caused by his touch. He chuckles, "You look so cute jumping on my cock like this. Such a pretty angel."
Timid by his words, you shift your face onto his shoulder to shield away from his line of sight. "Haaaah, stop saying stuff like that—Ahhhhhnnn!!"
You shriek when two fingers come down to your clitoris, the digits swiping and pinching the tender bud. "Hiding away from me again, huh, dollface?" He continues to mess with your clit ensuing in choked mewls and tears streaming down your face, and his hips increase in speed.
Your brain is a mushy mess, fighting the right to form coherent sentences. His fingers go at a hurried pace, abusing your clit. You're so close. Almost there. "Ahhh! Ahhhhh! Go-Gojo, pleaseee, I'm gonna cum—Hmmm!! Ahhaaaaaa!!!"
The peak hits you hard like a train, your body shaking uncontrollably on Gojo and his cock, the walls of your cunt fluttering beautifully on his length. And the contraction pushes him to release, his essence captured in the condom to prevent a spill.
Pants and groans fill the hot space between you two, and Gojo kisses your shoulder as the shockwaves die down with every passing second. A wave of calm covers your body while exhaustion crawls up your spine. You lift your head from his shoulder, and he's met with the most beautiful dazed expression he's ever seen.
"Heh, I should drink with you more often if it means I see you like this." He kisses your nose, and you smile.
"Oh, shut up," you remark breathlessly, and your lips meet his. He kisses you without hesitation, bringing you with him as he lies back on the bed. The sounds of his lips smacking with yours fill the room with a romantic glow, and it stays that way even when slumber claims you both.
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You're woken up by some sort of light on your eyelids and the sound of birds chirping. With a few blinks, your eyes open and are met with the sun's glaring rays peeking through the blind of the hotel window. Begrudgingly, you rise from the mattress and stretch your fatigued limbs. A massive headache greets your head without your consent, pounding it like a drum. The sheet above you slips from your figure, and you find out you slept bare nude.
Too flustered for exhaustion to take control, you grab the sheet to cover your chest, afraid that someone would've seen. The headache vanishes into thin air as you whip and search the room. But there's no one here? And you then notice the blue flannel on the side next to you. The side of the man you were on a date with.
Wait? I was with Gojo last night, right? Questions of the night prior finally come to you. Okay, wait, we went to that diner. Then we had those cocktails, which was a bad idea on my part. So what else? Oh. We kissed. Yeah...we kissed...then I got in his car and drove to this hotel room, and then...And then we.....we—
Unable to complete that thought, a sudden click catches your attention, whipping your head to the hotel door to see it open. And there he is.
Gojo enters the room with his clothes back on, his white tee and black jeans. His shades now block the beautiful eyes you had seen last night — perhaps it was a fever dream, imagining that you did see them. He's holding a paper cup, which you could only assume was tea or coffee. When he notices you, he greets you with a smile.
"Well, good morning, sunshine~" his tone gets chipper the closer he walks to the bed. Placing the cup on the bedside before grabbing for his flannel. "I brought you some tea since I'm sure your throat is sore from last night," your face heats up at the comment. "Plus, I didn't want to leave you empty-handed before I head out."
You blink at him. "You're leaving?"
"Yeah, sorry about that. Remember my friend I told you about last night?" You nod at him while he ties his blue clothing around his waist. "He texted me earlier, saying something came up with one of our other closer friends, and they need my help. He tried calling me, so I had to leave the room to let you sleep."
You hum at his confession. "I see..." How considerate.
"Hey," He climbs on the bed to be close to you. "Sorry that I can't take you back home or treat you to breakfast or something. Maybe next time."
Now that he's close to you like this, you can make out the implications of his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, blue orbs honed in on you and you alone. Your cheeks gradually go warm. "Next time?" You didn't mean for it to be a whisper, too entranced to notice.
He chuckles at your comment, and you swear your heart's beating irregularly. "Yeah, princess. I'd love to see you next time." He draws closer to kiss your forehead, and it takes every nerve in your body to not melt then and there. He then removes himself from the bed, the dent returning to normal now that his weight is off.
Gojo straightens himself and turns away from you. "Alright, I'm off. I'll leave my hotel card by the door. Text me if you need money for an Uber, 'kay?" You hear the door open. "Be good, ya hear!?" He shouts to you from the other side of the room, practically already in the hallway.
"Same to you!" You reply back in the same manner.
"No promises~." And with that comes the sound of the door closing, confirming your isolation in the now quiet hotel room. You're left to properly rekindle everything that led you up to this point, yet even then, you feel so at a loss.
As far as blind dates go — or dates in general — it's safe to say that this was the most bizarre one you've had. Not because anything dire happened. And that's probably the reason why it felt so surreal. You came into this date to release yourself from the shackles of a bet, knowing that you wouldn't see the end of it from your friend if you didn't take care of it with haste.
Nevertheless, thanks to Gojo, it didn't feel like a bet. Not at all. It felt like an actual, fun date with a new person. With a great person at that. Not once did you express any uncomfortable feelings or ill will towards Gojo. And if you did, you're sure he tended to your worries without your knowing.
"I'd love to see you next time."
His words ring in your ear once more, and they resume to do so when you exit from the bed to grab your bag on the chair next to you. You grasp the most necessary item inside — your diary — and sit at the hotel room desk to document your concluding statements appropriately.
...What happened last night was something that I had no vision of seeing. So, now that it did happen, I just feel a little...empty? Probably because I took care of Nobara's bet and don't have to worry about going on another date again.
But, deep down, a part of me wants to do it all again — Not with just anyone, but with him. What we shared yesterday was one of the most refreshing days I've had all summer. Although he was a bit childish for his mature age, maybe that made me like him even more. He was kind to me, funny, and, dare I say, an attractive guy, both in personality and physical appearance.
Thanks for the date, Satoru Gojo. And if you wish to see me again, any time at any place, know that my heart will accept with glee.
˚₊‧꒰ა Bonus ☆ Scene!! ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Gojo exits the hotel room and walks down the hall to the elevator, whistling a tune that only he could understand. He presses the button to summon the machine to his floor, and it comes in a few seconds with the soft ding to mark its risen state. And before Gojo could fully get inside, he sensed his phone vibrating in his right jean pocket.
He grabs for it and stops whistling, tapping on the green call button and placing the device to his ear as the elevator doors close. "Morning, you man-bunned prick."
"It's midday, you blue-eyed sheep." A voice comes from the other side of his phone. "Judging by how you didn't know that, you went out last night, didn't you?"
"That's none of your business~," the white-haired man says in a sing-song manner.
"Shut the hell up~," The one on the phone returns the sentiment. "It's not like I don't know practically every person you screwed in the streets with."
The elevator door opens to the main floor, and Gojo exits to head for the entrance. "Yeah, yeah. I will say this: I had a great time with them."
"You say this about everyone who opens their legs for you."
Gojo sucks his teeth. "Well, this one really had me enjoying myself from start to finish. They were fun to be around. Shit, they even made me drink alcohol."
"Really? And you didn't barf on the spot?"
"Fuck off, Suguru." The one from the phone line — now named Suguru — chuckled at the curse thrown his way. Gojo walks out to the parking lot and enters his car. The phone call is transferred to the car's Bluetooth when the engine starts. "I don't know...They were just great to be around, ya know? Haven't had that in a while."
Suguru hums, vibrating the car with the bass systems. "Think you wanna hang with them again?"
"Mmmmm, I'd like to."
The one on the phone chuckles. "Well, don't get to whipped. Especially since you promised to be at Shoko's beach house this month, we don't want you canceling on us again because someone scheduled you for a dick appointment."
Gojo smirks at the comment. "Yeah, I won't. You'll see me." A few seconds of silence follow through until Suguru asks another question to his friend.
"So? How was the sex this time around?"
With a twinge to his lips, Gojo snickers to himself from reminiscing about the events of last night.
"Man, let me tell you..."
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sexyandhedonistic · 10 months
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A word to some LOA blogs. You will know this is directed towards you when you read this.
The amount of times I have heard of a blog being rude and disrespectful to their followers is starting to become concerning and this is why I'm writing this currently, because it looks like a lot of you are letting your platform overinflate your egos and you do not know how to act as a result.
Not everyone needs to run a LOA blog.
I have reiterated time and time again regarding the fact that a lot of people join the community without knowing the first thing about the law of assumption which evokes confusion in so many people as a result. That is only one part of my issue with just anyone creating an account and starting to post literal gibberish (but that's a discussion for another day).
The other is the lack of basic empathy displayed by some blogs on here. I understand that the spectrum of questions in our inbox can range from very insightful epiphanies our anons have to hate to confusing questions to straight up irritating nonsensical ones, but that doesn't entitle you to be a piece of shit to your followers whether it's to their face or to your loa friend group regarding them asking you a genuine question they confided in you with.
As a blog, if you do not want to help someone, your options are the following:
Not respond.
Tell them you are unfit and redirect them elsewhere.
Running a law of assumption blog, much like indulging in any other task or hobby in which you have to help people, requires you to have three very important traits and those are:
Patience
Empathy
MORE patience
A lot of you guys are simply not built to be running a platform that is specifically intended to help people. If you're gonna be constantly belittling them, invalidating their honest questions then why are you here? There are principles of the law that we learn and talk about and you need to familiarize yourself with them before you run to point and laugh at someone who's asking for your help. You do not get to make fun of people's questions just because your understanding of the law of assumption is deeply flawed and cherry picked.
You are always welcome to be a lurker in the community and read what other blogs say, but if you have nothing to contribute except shitty responses and unwarranted mocking maybe you should reevaluate your decision to run a law of assumption blog.
To my followers, I am sorry if you've ever dealt with a rude blogger before. You do not deserve to be treated with disrespect LOA or not. This is supposed to be a community where everyone is welcome to learn about the law and discuss it accordingly. I hope you guys are able to find a blog that resonates with you and can answer your questions in a kind and digestible way, but please do not humor some of these awful people.
This is alI have to say about the matter for the time being. If you felt like I was talking about you I most likely was. Apologize to your followers for being an asshole, deactivate your blog or leave the community altogether. Any of these options work.
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copperbadge · 1 month
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Radio Free Monday
Good morning everyone, and welcome to Radio Free Monday!
Ways to Give:
Anon linked to a fundraiser for Andrea, a trans woman, UU minister, and veteran, and her wife Wren, a genderqueer veteran, who are currently homeless along with their three cats. While they are working with the VA to get approval for housing assistance, they're in need of funding to get back on their feet; you can read more and support the fundraiser here.
littleredreadinghood linked to a fundraiser for kirkaut, who was recently diagnosed with an aggressive cancer and is in need of help with medical bills. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.
like-the-midnight-sun linked to a fundraiser for a close friend, a queer, trans, and multiply-Disabled writer who has just lost their job and needs to pay a steep phone bill to reactivate their service so they can look for work. You can give via paypal here or via Chime to nachonaco.
Anon linked to a fundraiser for crazywolf828, whose grandfather, one of the household's main income sources, recently suffered a broken hip and is currently in a rehab center; they need help with medical bills among other things. You can read more and reblog here or give via ko-fi here. (The page does pop up a "possible NSFW comment" warning window but there's nothing NSFW on that page.)
Anon linked to a fundraiser for Vinn, a disabled nonbinary person who is raising funds to move away from Utah, where being a queer person is becoming steadily less safe, to Michigan, where they have a place to live with their partner already set up. You can read more and support the fundraiser here.
like-the-midnight-sun and her wife are multiply marginalized people who don't feel safe in the US anymore; they are fundraising to move to somewhere in Europe, probably Norway or Sweden, where they will be less likely to experience violent persecution. You can read more and support the fundraiser here.
like-the-midnight-sun and her wife are also hoping to get temporary assistance with a vet bill before they go out of town; the appointment is the day before payday and they won't be able to cover it until they are paid. They need a loan of $150 that they can pay back; you can give (with repayment on March 30th) via paypal here, via Venmo to ARZinzani (9980), or via Chime at $Nassun-0428.
Recurring Needs:
thelastpyler is raising funds to help with food, transportation, and replacement IDs after being robbed; you can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.
And this has been Radio Free Monday! Thank you for your time. You can post items for my attention at the Radio Free Monday submissions form. If you're new to fundraising, you may want to check out my guide to fundraising here.
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starsandhughes · 6 months
Text
Penalty Box Series— Trevor Zegras Edition (Four)
23-24 Season Masterlist
previous: three
next: five
a/n: i skipped the coyotes game bc it was... so boring... and there was zero z content in it
OCTOBER 22, 2023
yourusername
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liked by trevorzegras, jamie.drysdale, and 16,439 others
yourusername welcome back to my post game penalty box update show: sissy missed shatty edition! (alternatively titled "my fiancée took a hard hit and then looked like the greek god he is on the bench and i can't wait to take a trip to mount olympus")
after a long two periods of almosts, mason finslly scored first in the third! thst scoring momentum fid continue, though! just... for the other team...
the ducks did succumb to the bruins, but my z-baby got a penalty! so that's a plus! he slashed marchand and he didn't even get licked! (dear brad, if you're reading this, please lick my fiancé on october 26)
i'm sorry, boys, that you're on a three game lose streak, but i can feel it in my SOUL that you're going to cease that trend soon! use the power of friendship, my dear quackies!
i love you, always, trevy💜 pls do a trick soon! and you looked really cute smiling and watching shatty's video on the bench! prepare for kisses
p.s. dear mom/shatty, I HAVE MISSED YOU SO MUCH! SEEING YOUR VIDEO MONTAGE TRIBUTE ON THE SCOREBOARD HAD ME TEARING UP! I LOVE YOU! DON'T DIE! (@/shattdeuces)
tagged trevorzegras
view all 217 comments
trevorzegras am i cute? or am i god like? what's the scale here? is there a graphic organizer? (i love you, forever, my sweet girl💜)
yourusername the graphic organizer is my internal feelings and there's never a rhyme or reason for any decision i make <3
jackhughes @/yourusername so just like how you make every other decision?
yourusername @/jackhughes i could smack you, there's rhyme and reason for that decision
trevorzegras @/jackhughes she's going to set you on fire
jackhughes @/trevorzegras she failed the first time and she will fail again
_alexturcotte @/jackhughes why would you bring up senior year? people can read that
jackhughes @_alexturcotte the people need to know she's insane!
trevorzegras @/jackhughes USED* to be insane
_alexturcotte @/jackhughes don't act all innocent!we didn't call you two the twins of terror for nothing
yourusername @/jackhughes lexi sold you OUT HA
user52 z in this game has me acting up🥵
_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras what's your record streak this season? is it 5, like me?
trevorzegras @_quinnhughes in my defense, one of my penalties was me serving a too many men
yourusername @/trevorzegras and then you hooked hakanpää
_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras you did do that
trevorzegras i came out to have a good time and i’m honestly feeling so attacked right now
yourusername @/trevorzegras mwah!
shattdeuces i love and have missed you, too, daughter! p.s. your post-game goody bag made the other guys very jealous!
yourusername i hope you didn't share anything!
shattdeuces i would never betray you like that
yourusername i appreciate your never ending loyalty <3 where are we on the whole "marchand licking z" thing?
shattdeuces i am not asking him that
yourusername ... accidentally show him my post then
trevorzegras @/shattdeuces please no
yourusername @/trevorzegras just bite him in return
_quinnhughes i’d pay to see that
trevorzegras @/shattdeuces SEND HELP
shattdeuces @/trevorzegras i laughed and he asked what i was laughing at. it's in his hands now.
yourusername @/trevorzegras he lick, you bite, i smooch
trevorzegras @/yourusername that smooch better just be for me
yourusername @/trevorzegras my smooches are only for you
user45 trevor nudging terry to look at the video board before going back to smiling like a fool at it makes me so emo🥹😭 give him shatty back!
jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras you're not in the negatives yet! that's an accomplishment!
yourusername so true!! he's thriving!
trevorzegras i’m growing up so fast!
jamie.drysdale @/yourusername remember when he was our son? now he's the father of your future children
trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale she's now crying under my shirt
jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras i’m on my way
trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale she's requesting blankets so we can build a fort
jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras i'm on my way home to get blankets
user9 slash that rat! he deserves it!
user14 the seventh pic shows the face of a man who knows damn well his teammate started a scrum over him
jackhughes you're so obsessed with him
yourusername he's my baby daddy for a reason
trevorzegras @/jackhughes i've been obsessed since the day i saw her
jackhughes @/trevorzegras we know
yourusername and i was obsessed with my rat the day i saw trevor
trevorzegras @/yourusername we know.
colecaufield @/trevorzegras ooo a period! there are some big feelings in those two words
_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras this is taking me back to the good ol' days when you'd come into the room screaming over matthew! so cute!
trevorzegras is it attack trevor day?!
_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras it's always attack trevor day
yourusername @/trevorzegras i love you! always!
trevorzegras @/yourusername mhmm i love you, forever
user76 three game loss streak? a z penalty? roughing penalties? that's ducks hockey, baby!
masonmctavish23 did i just get a backhanded compliment?
yourusername no?
masonmctavish23 am i being gaslighted?
yourusername gaslighting? that's a big word, kiddo, did one of your little friends teach you that?
masonmctavish23 my friends are your friends and your fiancé!
yourusername well they definitely didn't teach you that
trevorzegras @/yourusername HEY
jamie.drysdale @/yourusername HEY
yourusername @/trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale hi?
lhughes_06 @/jackhughes @_quinnhughes were we just going to let the "trip to mount olympus" comment slide?
_quinnhughes @/lhughes_06 i’ve given up
jackhughes @/lhughes_06 i threw up in the comfort of your bathroom in peace and moved on
yourusername @/lhughes_06 @/jackhughes @_quinnhughes you guys do know how i got pregnant, right?
trevorzegras @/yourusername i think i need a refresher course
lhughes_06 @/trevorzegras STOP IT
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Text
My two cents on the whole situation
I think a lot of people in the Welcome Home fandom are misunderstanding the bigger picture here. It's resulting in a lot of people expressing disappointment and pointing fingers at people who aren't even the problem, and while the intentions mean well, it's causing the toxic environment Clown doesn't want.
In his post, which has now been privated, he talks about how overwhelming everything is. He even directly states that it's not just about boundaries, and while he has trouble putting it into words (and I will not put words in his mouth in the process either), Clown indicates that the sudden spotlight and attention is overwhelming him. And that's completely understandable - he's just one guy! Plus, he's been making stuff for Welcome Home for years, so it only makes sense to fluster over the sudden rush of attention in only a week. A week!!!
The reasons why boundaries come into play with all of this isn't just because his THREE rules were violated by garbage people. It's the fact that he had no time to establish boundaries beforehand, and it's stressful to suddenly have to think of EVERY facet of fandom culture and establish the dos and don'ts. But as Clown said, what's happened has happened, and all we can do is move on. Which leads me to my next point:
Clown explicitly said to not reprimand people on his behalf. He doesn't want the fandom to waste time and energy on people who have already crossed the line. What has happened, has happened. With that said, it's important to educate and point out when someone has crossed a boundary, but you shouldn't go through so much effort and anger over someone who clearly doesn't give a shit.
I've seen a lot of people who are making posts with a lot of "shame on you!"s and "You are all trash." I've also seen comments on harmless fanfics or art saying things like "You're the reason this fandom sucks." What awful things to say!
This fandom is probably one of the best fandoms I've been a part of. Why? Because a large majority, and I mean a LARGE majority, are respectful of Clown and want to do right by him. I've never seen a community band together so quickly to change their ways, apologize, spread the word, and evaluate the decisions they've made: not just in this fandom, but every fandom they've ever been a part of. That's HUGE. I've been on the internet for a very long time, and I don't think I've ever seen anything like that.
Yes, there are BAD eggs in this fandom, but there always is. What's important is that I haven't been seeing those bad eggs. Like, at all. I haven't seen a single explicit NSFW post, and I haven't seen a single piece of mass-produced merch. I've only heard about them through word-of-mouth, but I've never actually seen anything with my own eyes. Not that I doubt anyone, but I'm saying this to illustrate just how little bad eggs there are in the community. And this is a HUGE community.
In fact, I think we're so good, that we're starting to punish ourselves for making fandom content, and that is also awful. I want to reiterate what Clown's three major rules are:
Refrain from publicly posting NSFW content or content that wouldn't be safe for children to see/read.
Do not mass produce merch. Commissions and personal projects are fine, but they cannot be mass produced to be sold.
Do not impersonate and claim his art as yours. Give credit!! Don't trick people, and don't profit off of someone else's work!
And that's it! I've seen a lot of people taking down their fanfictions and art and AUs just because they're worried about Clown. That's super sweet and it warms my heart to hear that the community is so considerate, but remember, the three rules above are the only don'ts. Lots of people are scared of continuing to overwhelm him, and they're also scared that he might stop the project all together.
I assure you, he's not. Firstly, his fan works guideline is still pinned on his Tumblr blog!! If he wasn't sure of fanworks all together, he would have simply privated the post and write a new one with new rules. The rules have not changed. He loves to see fan interpretations, your AUs, your OCs, and your art! This is all explicitly stated! You can read it here incase you forgot -> https://www.tumblr.com/partycoffin/712519493403934720/apologies-if-this-has-already-been-asked-but-how?source=share
Secondly, he actually posted an update on his ko-fi that indicates that he's doing much better and that he's "elbow deep" into working on Welcome Home! I'm a member that gets to see all of his posts on ko-fi, and while I'm not going to show you the whole post (obviously), I will quote an important part you guys should see: "You have all been so delightful to me (Setbacks happen with an abrupt shift in attention, I realize, so roll I will with this newfound experience!) and I was like 'Oh, let's post a tasty preview!'"
Clown acknowledges all of the goodwill and kindness the community has shown. He even states that he's learned from the experience and he's working hard on Welcome Home to see it through!
This was a very long two cents, so I'll end it here.
tl;dr, You guys are being too harsh on each other/yourselves, and that's the last thing Clown wants. He's doing better, Welcome Home is still being worked on, and you shouldn't have to shame yourself or others for posting perfectly kosher fandom content. There's only three major rules, three, so you shouldn't have to feel bad about what makes you happy.
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