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quintinh43 · 12 days

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How It All Began | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinns family finally finds out that Him and y/n are together. Featuring our local B.c. boy, the one and only Mat Barzal. Based loosely off of this.

Parings: Quinn Hughes x Teacher!Fem!Reader

Warnings: None I think. Maybe some anxious feelings. Part of this universe but can be read as a stand alone.

Wc: 5.7k

The door clicks shut, breaking your focus and signifying that Quinn is home from practice. As he passes by the couch, he drops a kiss to your head, ruffling your hair as he goes. "Hi baby," he murmurs quietly, not wanting to disturb you while you mark math tests.

"Hi Q," you say off-handedly, grimacing as you circle another question in red and write down the correct answer. This poor kid is going to need some extra help. You quickly scan your attendance list and put a star beside his name.

Quinn busies himself by taking a quick shower and cutting up some fruit as a snack before he flops on the couch and pillows his head on your thigh. Your fingers automatically delve into his hair, rubbing at his scalp soothingly. He lets out a contented sigh as he snatches the TV remote and navigates to YouTube to play some sort of educational video that will make his brain work.

Occasionally, he holds a piece of fruit up for you, and you take it without hesitation, often catching his fingers between your teeth playfully. Halfway through a video about Moser's circle problem, he pauses it and takes the pen and paper from your hand, setting them on the coffee table neatly.

"Sorry to disrupt your marking, babe," he says softly, holding up a strawberry for you in a sort of apology, "I have a question for you." His tongue darts against his lip in a nervous habit as he awaits your response.

"All good, baby; I could use a break anyway." You smile, happily taking the slice of strawberry into your mouth. You lean down and kiss the corner of his mouth sweetly, hoping to alleviate some of his nerves, "What's your question?"

"Will you come to Michigan with me this summer? I know you usually say no, but now you're my girlfriend, and I don't wanna spend the summer without you. I mean, I understand if you don't wanna, and I won't push, but it'd really mean a lot to me to have you there and-"

Your smile grows as he rambles, and you cut him off with a kiss. "Yes, Quinn, I'll come to Michigan with you this summer and for every summer after that, as long as you'll have me,"

The smile Quinn gives you is dazzling and filled with love, "for the rest of our lives?"

"For the rest of our lives," you confirm, sealing your lips over his in another sweet kiss. You pull away for air, smoothing his hair down with a smile. "Now make yourself useful and help me mark these tests," you say nudging him into a sitting position.

"Tyrant," he mutters, though he can barely keep the smile off his face. He splits the remainder of the stack of tests in half and slides a pile over to you. You give him the answer key, already having memorized most of the answers and the two of you work comfortably side by side. After the stack of tests is marked you hand Quinn your trusty sticker book, and he lights up as he takes it from you, he places a sticker on each test with such care it makes your heart melt.

The remainder of the evening passes by in the blissful peace of each other's company, and soon the two of you are curled around each other, fast asleep on the couch.

The months fly by as the weather grows warmer, and the canucks are in the playoffs. It's a bit of an adjustment, dealing with the chaos of the end of the school year while Quinn captains a playoff team, but if the pair of you are good at anything, it's adapting to what life throws at you.

Soon, hockey season is over, and it's the last day of the school year. Honestly, you are just as happy as the kids. The day flies by in a whirlwind of fun, and soon enough, you're hugging your students goodbye and promising you'll visit them in their class next year. You'll never admit it, but it makes you feel a little emotional every time.

Quinn picks you up from school with a bouquet of flowers and two slices of pie from the shop downtown that the two of you reserve exclusively for special occasions. Quinn leans over the center console and plants a sweet kiss on your lips, turning you to putty in his arms.

"Happy last day of school, Ms. Y/l/n," he smirked, punctuating his sentence with a kiss to your cheek.

You can't help the giggle that falls from your lips, and you lace your fingers with his as he drives to Prospect Point. You pick a place on the sea wall for the two of you to sit and prepare to feast on the pie.

"To the best summer of our lives," Quinn grins, tapping his pie against yours. You smile, your heart full, and you dig in.

"How do you know it'll be the best summer of our lives?" You tease, watching the boats on the water.

"Because for the first time," Quinn murmurs with a grin, taking your chin between his pointer finger and thumb to make you look at him, "we'll be spending it together," he places a gentle kiss on your lips and you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him close.

"I love you, Quintin," you hum with a smile.

"I love you too, Y/n," he leans against you, and you thread your fingers through his hair as you watch boats drift along the waterline, lit by the glow of the setting sun. And at that moment, everything was right in the world.

The sun disappears over the horizon, and Quinn wraps his arm over your shoulders as you walk back to the car, "we gotta get you packed," he mumbles against your hair.

"Ugh, don't remind me," you groan. "I hate packing,"

"Well, I already told you you could bring a small bag and I'll take you shopping when we get to Mich, but somebody didn't like that idea," he sasses, nipping at your ear.

You flick him in the nose, scowling, "Shut up,"

"Yes, ma'am," he smirks.

As soon as you get home, Quinn wastes no time, pulling out a suitcase for you as you go through the list of what you need to pack. Quinn leaves you to it, knowing that there's a method to your madness, and the only thing he can do to help is sit there and look pretty.

He's lounging on the bed while piles of clothing surround you. As you start neatly packing things into the suitcase you go through the pile of swimsuits once more, "Are you sure I need this many swimsuits?" You ask skeptically, for what is probably the third time.

"Yes, babe. We are on the water almost every day," he says again. His answer still the same as the last time you asked.

"Oh!" You spring up with a smile on your face and saunter to the closet, "I just remembered..."

"Remembered what, babe?" Quinn asks curiously, rolling over on the bed so he's no longer looking at you upside down as you emerge from the closet with a blue plastic card. You present it to him with a big smile.

He squints his eyes, snatching the card from your hands. "Is this real?"

You scoff. "Of course, it's real."

"No fucking way," Quinn says, wide-eyed, flipping it over and inspecting the back of it, "We have known each other for so long, and you never mentioned you had a boat license."

You roll your eyes and plant yourself in the middle of your piles of clothing again while Quinn inspects your very real boating license. "I basically grew up on the Okanagan, of course, I have a boat license."

"Oh baby, Jack just got demoted from first mate," he chuckles, grin spreading wide.

You giggle as you pack everything into the suitcase, "I'm excited to see everyone. It's been way too long."

"Speaking of seeing everyone..." he trails off, nervously fiddling with his fingers, "I didn't tell them about us yet. Or that you're coming."

Confusion is written on your features as you look at him. Your heart stutters a little. He notices the look on your face and is quick to tamper your worries. "I just- I wanted to tell them in person. You're so important to me and to my family as well, and it didn't feel right to tell them over the phone, you know?"

"I'm nervous." You say quietly, zipping up your suitcase after you've packed everything into it. Quinn stands, pulling you into his arms, you melt into the warmth of his body and loop your arms around his back.

"They already love you, baby, don't even worry," he says, planting a sweet kiss on your hair. You sigh against his chest and let the beat of his heart calm your nerves. His hands stroke your back in soothing circles, and he starts to sway the two of you back and forth.

"Alexa, play Heaven by Bryan Adams," Quinn says just loud enough for the device to pick up his voice. You smile into his chest as soft music fills the room, and all of a sudden, tears well at the corners of your eyes because this is everything you have ever dreamed of and more.

"I love you so much, Quinn," you murmur against his shirt, "more than I have words for."

Quinn pulls away, cupping your face and kissing the tears from your cheeks, "don't cry, baby," he says earnestly, not knowing the reason for your tears.

"Happy tears," you choke out with a smile, nuzzling your cheek against his hand with a happy sigh. He pulls you back into his chest and sways to the music until the song is over. You stand on your tip toes and press a sweet kiss to his lips. He smiles against your mouth "Gotta finish packing sweets," he mutters, squeezing your waist. You nip at his lip playfully, and he pulls away with an overdramatic hiss.

"Why'd you have to remind me?" You pout, crossing your arms against your chest.

Quinn chuckles, smoothing his tongue along his bottom lip, "Come on, babe, I know you won't be able to relax until you get it done. Plus, now it's just your airplane bag, and then you're free."

You sigh, knowing he's correct, as you gather the things that need to go in your backpack. Your iPad, current book, AirPods, chargers, wallet, passport, and all the other important stuff that need to go in your backpack. Quinn rolls your suitcase by the door, and you place your backpack on top of it, finally done packing for the night.

"How are we getting to the airport?" You ask, mouth full of toothpaste as you and Quinn prepare for bed side by side. Quinn's hair is held back by one of those silly skincare headbands.

You can't help but snap a photo of the two of you. Quinn patted his face dry with a towel, brown curls were pushed back by a lavender headband, you had your toothbrush hanging half out of your mouth, and your hair was pushed back with a matching blue headband.

Quinn rolls his eyes fondly and presses a kiss to your cheek and you snap another photo with a giggle. Domestic Quinn is your favourite Quinn because he's all yours. No one else gets to see him like this.

Quinn finishes drying his face, "Hmm, I think Barzy said he would take us, I'll text him and double-check."

It takes a minute for the nickname to place, but as soon as it does, you whip around to face him, a piece of floss stuck between your teeth, "Barzy? As in Barzal? Like Matthew Barzal of the New York Islanders?"

Quinn looks at you strangely, "What other Barzal's do you know?"

"Since when are you buddies with Mat Barzal?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

Quinn furrows his brows, trying to recall when he became friends with Mat, "Since I moved to Vancouver? I swear you knew this?"

"No, I didn't," you shake your head, throwing your floss in the garbage.

"His family lives in Coquitlam. I usually pick him up from the airport when he flies in if I'm still in Vancouver," he shrugs. He swore you knew all of this. Then again, this is the first time he's been around this far into the off-season. He unusually catches the first possible flight out to Michigan, but this time, he stuck around until you were finished teaching.

Your eyes light up in recognition. "Is that the 'Matty' you pick up from the airport every year?" You ask as all the pieces click into place.

Quinn nods, flipping off the bathroom light and texting mat while you curl up on your respective side of the bed, holding the quilt up for him to slip underneath. "Mat says he'll drop us off," Quinn says, ensuring his alarm is set before he plugs his phone in and slips under the covers beside you.

As always, you curl into his side, and he wraps his arm around you, bringing you as close to his chest as possible, stroking patterns along your arm. You toss your leg over his hip, and his other hand finds its home on your leg.

"Night baby, I love you," you whisper against his chest.

"I love you too," he says, pressing a kiss to your hair.

The morning brings a whirlwind of chaos. Making sure neither of you forgot anything important, triple checking to be sure there's nothing left in the fridge that will go bad, amongst other things. There's a knock on the door while Quinn ensures everything is unplugged around the apartment.

"Ready to go?" Quinn asks as he's locking the apartment door. It's a rhetorical question; it's time to go whether you are ready or not, but the fact that he still cares enough to ask makes your chest warm.

"Yeah," you sigh, locking your fingers with his. He squeezes your hand and gives you a reassuring smile as the two of you walk to the awaiting car of Mat Barzal. He pops the trunk, and Quinn hoists your suitcase into the back.

You slip into the back seat, leaving the passenger side for Quinn. Mat whips towards you with a grin, tilting his head so he can see you over the rims of his sunglasses. "You must be the missus," he sticks his hand out for you to shake, "it's good to finally meet you. Huggy never shuts up about you."

You smile, shaking his hand, "Good to meet you too, Mat. I can't believe Quinn has never introduced us before now,"

Quinn slips into the passenger seat, rolling his eyes. "Cause I knew you two would get along like a house on fire, and frankly, that's something out of my nightmares."

"Oh hush, Huggy," Mat produces a tray from seemingly out of nowhere carrying three takeout cups, "drink your green juice before you pop a vein," he says, handing Quinn the cup with some healthy-looking green juice in it. Quinn takes the cup with a grumble.

"And for the lady," Mat produces a cup of coffee, "I hope you like hazelnut lattes. Quinn didn't text me back fast enough about your coffee order, so this is what I got."

"This is perfect, thank you." You say, taking the cup from him, incredibly happy now that you have your hands on some caffeine.

"Thanks for feeding my girlfriend's addiction you ass," Quinn grumbles. His tone is teasing, and his words are light-hearted, but it's funny how Mat sticks out his bottom lip in an offended pout.

"It's not an addiction!" You protest with a gasp, keeping your coffee close to your chest as if Quinn might try to steal it.

The rest of the ride to the airport is filled with friendly banter and you and Mat exchange numbers. Quinn pretends it's the worst thing to happen, but secretly, he's happy that you and Mat are getting along.

Mat steps out to do the bro hug thing with Quinn and then grabs your suitcase from the car. Mat pulls you into a side hug, "It was good to meet you, Missus. I know you probably know this, but Quinn loves you a lot. He wears his love for you on his face, which is surprising considering that he's... well, he's Quinn." Mat says with an awkward chuckle.

It's surprising to hear from someone else. You'd never really thought about how Quinn looks at you in public. To you, he's sassy, and he talks a lot. He wears his emotions on his sleeve, and he isn't afraid to make his feelings known. To the public, he's quiet and respectful and knows exactly what to say and when to say it.

So to hear that he wears his love for you in his face, publicly, in the open, for the world to see, well, it makes your heart flutter warmly in your chest.

Quinn rejoins the two of you, leaning casually against your suitcase. You take that as your cue to leave and turn to hug Mat for real.

"Thanks for saying that, Mat. It means a lot." You whisper to him.

Mat chuckles, patting you on the back, "Of course, it was good to meet you, Y/n. I'm gonna let you go now because Quinn looks like he might try to kill me, but send me lots of photos of the two of you this summer, ok?"

It's an odd request, mainly because you just met, but you like him, and you know you're going to become good friends, so you smile and promise you'll send him lots of photos.

"Thanks for driving us to the airport, Barzy," Quinn smiles, dabbing him up one last time before the two of you head into the airport.

Quinn offers his hand for you, leading the two of you through the airport. You take it gratefully, happy not to have to use your brain. Soon enough, you're seated side by side on the plane, ready to take off. Quinn hands you water while you pop your drugs, ready to pass out. Flying has never been a favourite activity of yours, so you usually take a couple of nighttime advils and knock out for the duration of the flight.

It's like magic, really; You go to sleep in one place and wake up in another. You pillow your head on Quinn's shoulder, and before you know it, you are out cold.

Approximately six hours later, Quinn is shaking you awake ever so gently, "We're here, babe, planes landed," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your head.

You blink the sleep from your eyes, your brain feeling a little groggy. "Times' it?" You mumble, flopping your head back onto Quinn's shoulder.

"4:27 pm,"

You hum in acknowledgement, rubbing your eyes with a sigh. The flight attendants announced that it was time to start deboarding. Quinn nudges you up while he grabs both of your backpacks from the overhead compartment. He gives you yours and grabs your hand, leading you off the plane to collect your baggage.

As the two of you wait by the baggage carousel, you lean against the sturdiness of Quinn's body, still groggy from the meds. Quinn rubs his hands up and down your arms in soothing motions. His phone buzzes incessantly in his pocket, and he pulls it out with a huff. His eyes light up instantly when he sees that it's Jack and Luke in their group chat.

“Jack and Luke are here,” he whispers with a smile. Suddenly, you are wide awake; you haven't seen either of them since December, and holy fuck, you miss them. “I told them to park and come in,”

“They still don't know I'm here, right?” you question excitedly. Quinn nods, his eyes sparkling with amusement at how excited you are. “You face that way, and tell me when they’re coming,” you say, stepping away from Quinn so you aren't standing suspiciously close to him. Quinn chuckles at your request and does it anyway, facing the entrance to the airport so he can see when his brothers enter. You are practically vibrating with excitement as you wait for them to arrive.

You and Quinn can hear them before you see them, “-well, he probably told us to come in because he has a suitcase or something,” Jack says, exasperated.

“But why does he have a suitcase? He never brings a suitcase?” Luke asks confused

They round the corner as Jack sighs. He points to Quinn and slaps Luke upside the head, “Go ask him yourself,”

You are covering your mouth with a hand to keep your laughter quiet, and Quinn is peaking at you out of the corner of his eye with a very amused look.

“What’r you smiling about Quinner?” Luke asks, looping his arm around his brother. Quinn pats his back as Jack joins the hug, throwing himself at Quinn’s free side. Quinn loops his free arm around him with a grunt. “Just happy to see you dumbasses,”

“So why’d you have luggage?” Luke asks, brows raised.

You choose that moment to face them, “It’s mine, actually,” you grin.

Both of their jaws drop to the floor, and they scramble to untangle themselves from Quinn and throw themselves at you instead. Jack gets to you first, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Luke hugs you around your back. It's awkward because of your backpack, but he is too impatient to wait for Jack to let go, “Y/n, are you really here?” Jack says quietly.

“No, she’s a figment of your imagination,” Luke says with an eye roll, squeezing you just a little tighter “Yes, she’s here, dumbass,”

Quinn chuckles at the interaction, grabbing your suitcase off the conveyor belt as it passes. He leans on it, watching as his brothers practically squeeze the life out of you.

“No one asked you,” Jack huffs. You smile against Jack's neck and tap his arm for him to let go of you. Jack whirls on Quinn, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “How come you didn't tell us she was coming?”

“It was a surprise.” he shrugs with a smirk.

Luke loops an arm around your shoulder, and you wrap one around his waist. You have known the kid since he was a fourteen-year-old who barely came up to your shoulder. At this point, he is basically your little brother. Hopefully, one day, he will be.

“Does this mean you finally pulled your head out of your ass and confessed that you’ve been head over heels for her since you’ve met?” Jack asks bluntly, he pulls on the strap of your backpack to take it from you, and you let him gladly..

Luke cackles, and you laugh behind your hand while Quinn goes red in the face. “Technically, I’m the one who confessed.” you grin, walking towards the door.

“So tell us the story,” Jack nudges with a grin.

“Oh god, can we not?” Quinn groans, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“Quinn, please tell me you did not embarrass the family name,” Luke says all too seriously.

“Shut up, Luke. At least I have a girlfriend.”

“So he did embarrass the family name then,” Jack says teasingly.

You just smile, and Jack breaks out into a cackle. Quinn grumbles unintelligibly as he places your suitcase into the trunk. He holds his hand out for the keys, and Luke pouts but hands them over without argument as the older sibling, Quinn, is quite literally incapable of allowing his younger siblings to drive while he is in the car. Quinn opens the passenger door for you, and you slide in with a smile, kissing him on the cheek.

“UGH, THAT WAS SO GROSS,” Luke yells dramatically, covering his eyes. “Keep your grimy lips off her, you heathen!”

“She literally kissed me, you dumbass,” Quinn says, rolling his eyes as he adjusts the seat to his comfort, he laces your fingers together, and you keep your intertwined hands perched in your lap. The drive to the lake house is filled with friendly chatter. Jack and Luke ask about your work, how the kids are, and when they can come to visit next year. You ask them about their last season, how their summer is going, if they are excited for the next season, and everything else that comes to mind.

It’s almost sad that the drive is over as the car pulls up to Lake House. Until you remember you’re about to see Ellen and Jim for the first time in a while. The excitement returns tenfold, and you don't even care about surprising them. As the car rolls to a stoop and you burst out before Quinn has had the chance to put it in park, you can’t remember why you were nervous about coming to Michigan.

“Hi Quinn, we’re in the kitchen!” Ellen's voice calls as she hears the front door open. Following the sound of Ellen's voice you find the kitchen easily.

“Hi El, Hi Jim,” you say with a sheepish smile. They look up, startled by a voice that is most definitely not Quinn.

Jim comes over with a smile, pulling you into a side hug. “Hey Kiddo, long time, its good to see you.”

“Oh my goodness! Y/n!” Ellen drops what she is doing and practically runs to hug you, “Welcome to Michigan, Honey! How come no one told us you were coming? Where are the boys?”

As if on cue, the boys appear in a wave of chaos, Luke dragging your suitcase, Quinn and Jack carrying the backpacks. “Hey, mom, hey, dad,” Quinn says, dropping his bag and hugging them respectively.

Ellen nudges him in the stomach with an elbow, and he doubles over dramatically. “How come you didn't tell us you were bringing Y/n?” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at her son.

“She’s finally his girlfriend!” Luke yells as he drags your bags upstairs to Quinn's room.

Ellen's head whips between you two, “surprise,” Quinn says sheepishly, making jazz hands at his mom. Jim snorts and resumes setting the table. Ellen’s face settles into a soft, knowing smile. And she pulls you in for another hug along with Quinn.

“I thought he was never gonna confess at this rate.” Ellen teases.

“Well, actually,” you start with a grin, and Quinn is already groaning, “I was the one who confessed,”

“Well, we would love to hear the whole story at dinner, Quinn. Why don’t you give her a quick mini-tour and then freshen up? Dinner will be ready in less than ten.”

“Sure, Mom,” he drops a kiss to her hair and grabs you by the hand, leading you out of the kitchen, back into the living room and up the stairs where Luke had disappeared with your luggage, pointing out things along as you go. He promises a more in-depth tour after dinner as he drags you to his bedroom so the two of you can freshen up.

Jack and Luke had brought all of your luggage up, thank god. You grab your toothbrush out of your bag, and Quinn points you in the direction of the bathroom. “Do you want something to change into?” he asks as he shuffles through his closet.

“I wouldn't be opposed to a t-shirt,” you answer, undoing your hair and rubbing your fingers into your scalp to release the tension from having your hair up since this morning. You brush your teeth quickly and strip off your hoodie, tossing it on top of your suitcase, as Quinn hands you a t-shirt. As you pull it over your head, the comforting smell of Quinn engulfs you, and you sigh happily.

Suddenly, Quinn is in front of you, wrapping his arms around you loosely, and you practically fall into him. “How are you feeling?” he asks gently, his hands finding your bare skin under your shirt.

“So happy I came with you, Q,” you smile against his chest.

“Me too, baby, me too,” he sighs.

Ellen's voice echos up the stairs, saying that dinner is ready, and Quinn places a kiss on your cheek before loosely tangling your fingers together and leading you back down the stairs. Quinn sits on your left, your thing comfortable resting on top of his. Luke is on your right, and Jim, Ellen and Jack are across from you.

“So tell us the story of how you finally got together,” Ellen prompts, handing you the potatoes.

“Oh god, must we?” Quinn groans,

“Quinn did something embarrassing apparently,” Jack grins, piling his plate high with food.

Their parents don't comment, but the sly smiles that adorn their faces tell you they expected nothing less from their son. “Please spare no expense. We've only waited half a decade for this,” Luke says seriously.

“It was nothing special, really,” you smile, “we were just having dinner, and then it slipped out.” you shrug.

Jack pokes you with his foot under the table, and you glare at him playfully. “Come on, you are holding out on us. What happened after that?”

“Nothing,” you smile.

“Nothing?” Luke questions, and you know he’s caught on as you nod in confirmation.

“As in…” Ellen eyes Quinn with an intensity that only a mother can manage, “Quinn did nothing,”

Quinn hides his face, absolutely mortified, “he didn't do anything, didn't say anything, he just kind of stood there with a blank stare,” you say, smiling fondly as you recall how the night went. It was funny looking back on it now, but at that time, it was the most horrifying moment of your life.

“Quinn, seriously!” Luke scolds, “The girl you love confesses her undying feelings, and you do nothing! That's so embarrassing. We’re renouncing you as a Hughes.”

“Pretty sure I'm the only one who has that power, kiddo,” Jim chimes in with a teasing smile.

“So what happened after that?” Jack encourages with a wave of his hand.

“Well, naturally, after you confess your feelings for your best friend and he just kind of stands there frozen like a baby deer in headlights, you feel pretty mortified,” you shrug, “so naturally, I ran away.”

“Oh my god! You didn't!” Luke gasps dramatically.

“Mhmm,” you nod, “I did,” you nudge Quinn gently so he can continue the story.

“Forgot her phone, keys, wallet, everything,” Quinn says, shaking his head, “I was freaking out, so I kinda just ran out of the apartment after her. I’m sprinting down the streets of downtown Vancouver after dark, and it starts raining. Eventually, like, ten minutes later, I found her crying on a park bench, soaked to the bone and shivering like there was no tomorrow.”

“And just as I was about to take off again, he grabbed me by the wrist and told me he loves me too,” you say, smiling softly.

“Dude, that's straight out of The Notebook,” Jack laughs,

“Well, that will make a fun wedding story.” Ellen smiles,

“That's what Quinn said,” You say, grinning.

“Good job, Quinner. I honestly expected much more embarrassment on your part.” Luke says much too happily.

“Gee, thanks for having so much faith in me, Moose.” Quinn rolls his eyes.

“I’m sure the real version is much less PG,” Jack mutters with a smirk, earning himself a jab from his mother. Your cheeks warm, and your gaze drops to your plate while the tips of Quinn’s ears go pink.

Jack’s smirk grows wider at your reactions, and he's cackling as he takes his next bite of food.

“After that, I moved into his place, and that's basically it, and now we're here.”

“And we're glad to have you,” Ellen smiles.

The remainder of dinner passes quickly, the conversation flowing between the five of you easily. You help clean the kitchen. “Wanna do a sunset boat ride?” Quinn asks as he dries his hands on the dish towel, “I'm itching to get on the water.”

“I'm down,” Luke and Jack say simultaneously, while Jim and Ellen nod in agreement.

“Everyone get a hoodie, you know how cold it gets on the boat as soon as the sun starts to set,” Ellen instructs while she heads up the stairs to grab hoodies for her and Jim.

“I’ll go get two for us,” Quinn murmurs, disappearing up the stairs behind his mom.

He comes back down, not a minute later, with two hoodies in hand. He hands you the blue Canucks hockey one and takes the grey one for himself.

“Oh, by the way, Jack,” Quinn starts as you all make your way to the dock, “you've been demoted as first mate and secondary driver,”

“What?” Jack practically screeches, “What did I do to deserve this?” he whines.

Quinn simply whips your boat license out of his pocket and shows it to Jack with a shit-eating grin.

Jack's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. “Don’t worry, Jack,” you laugh, “I would never usurp your position like that.” you pat him on the head reassuringly, and he can't help but smile at you.

Quinn hops over the side of the boat, and ever the gentleman offers you a hand. You take it with a smile and go to choose a seat, but before you can do so, Quinn is pulling you onto his lap in the driver's seat. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You are, after all, in front of his family. No one comments. They all simply smile knowingly as Quinn wraps one arm around your waist and hooks his chin over your shoulder.

With the comforting strength of Quinn’s body beneath you, the sunset on the lake and the soft chatter of the Hughes melding with the wind rushing in your ears, you decide that this will, in fact, be the best summer of your life.

Ya'll I am so so sorry this took so long. It was supposed to be out Friday, then Saturday, then Sunday, then Monday morning. And here we are. Monday night. Finally.

Some crazy shit happened 😭

Anyways, last final is on Thursday and then I have all the free time in the world to write!

Hope yall are having a wonderful day/night/evening/time etc.

As always, comments are much appreciated.

#quinn hughes #qh43 #hughes brothers #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes blurb #nhl imagines #nhl blurb #loving you is as easy as abc 123

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spamgyu · 3 months

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SVT PU - Orange Peel Theory // Drabble

orange peel theory is making it's rounds on local tiktok and twitter. this is my humorous take on how the PERFORMANCE UNIT discuss/deal with the orange peel theory with their significant others.

[hhu] [vu]

SOONYOUNG

he was in the middle of call when y/n had taken a seat next to him on their couch, a snack in hand.

"yeah, i think i can come in and record today." soonyoung motioned for her to hand over the fruit, nestling his phone between his ear and shoulder – freeing his hands.

she shook her head, not wanting to interrupt him, but he was persistent – taking the orange from her.

"no it's okay, i'll be there in thirty." he continued, peeling the citrus. "let me just get dress– i can pick him up on the way too."

without breaking the conversation, soonyoung had managed to completely peel her snack of choice; handing it back once he had finished.

y/n mouthed a thank you to him, earning a wink in return.

"okay, see you later. bye." soonyoung ended the call, turning to her with his mouth open. "ah."

"get your own!" she shook her head with giggle.

pouting, soonyoung leaned closer. "i need energy for when i record."

y/n rolled her eyes at his antics, knowing that he was simply being dramatic – popping a slice into his mouth. "you passed by the way."

"passed?" he chewed.

"orange peel theory. if that's what you were trying to do."

"like a class?"

he had no idea what she was talking about; peeling the orange simply because he wanted to.

"nevermind."

JUNHUI

"baby!" he called out from the kitchen, causing y/n to run in – afraid of what he could have possibly done.

he had insisted on preparing their lunch today, despite it being his first and only day off in months. jun had always been better in the cooking department of their relationship than she was; not bothering to fight him when he had told her that he was completely fine with preparing their meal.

"what happened? are your fingers in tact? are you–"

"look!" jun pointed to the fruit he had peeled.

correction, plated professionally

her boyfriend enjoyed random artistic hobbies, not batting an eye whenever he chose pick a new one up.

even if it was.... fruit peel art.

"you made a flower out of an orange peel?" y/n raised her brows.

"cute right?" he chuckled.

"i thought you were making lunch."

"i am, this is your snack while i cook." he handed her the plate of oranges with a flower peel as garnish. "orange peel theory, baby."

"it's hypothe–"

"sh... eat the orange." jun shook his head, ushering her out of the kitchen.

MINGHAO

"babe, would you peel an orange for me?"

minghao was in the middle of chopping vegetables for their dinner when y/n had entered the kitchen, a playful smile on her face. "is this a sexua–"

"wha- no!" she laughed, walking over to him to show him the tiktok that had been playing on her phone – it was creator attempting to test her boyfriend with the orange peel theory.

she had no doubt he would do anything for her; he'd bring down the stars for her without having asked.

his mother had raised him well.

"hm..." he nodded as the video looped back to the beginning, walking over to grab one of the oranges in their fruit bowl. "isn't it crazy that such a small act can predict how someone will treat you and your relationship."

she watched as he peeled the citrus without tearing the outer in pieces – going in a spiral.

"it's such a small act that shows that your significant other is willing to do anything, no matter how small." he went on. "making their partner's life that much easier."

leave it to minghao to analyze a fifteen second video, instantly knowing the meaning behind the current social media trend.

he split the fruit in half, feeding her a slice. "yummy?"

"yummy." she chewed, a smile on her face.

"i know you were just joking, but for the record," minghao tucked a strand behind her ear, placing a kiss on her cheek. "i'd peel a strawberry, if it means you'd never have to lift a finger."

"i know." she hummed.

CHAN

in a world full of boys, he was a gentleman. or whatever the hell taylor swift said.

despite being the youngest in his group, chan was the eldest in his family and doting on her came naturally – especially since she was the youngest in hers.

she was used to the princess treatment from her own family and chan had no problem continuing that treatment.

y/n knew he would do anything for her... but she wanted him to know she would do the same.

even if he rarely allowed her to.

"fuck." y/n hissed as her fingers slipped yet again in her attempts to peel an orange for her boyfriend.

"you okay?" his voice startling her, causing her to jump.

"yeah just trying to pee– no!" she cried as he took the fruit from her.

"i'll do it." he continued where she had left off, using his body to shield the citrus away from her hands.

"give it."

"you just got your nails done." chan chuckled, turning around once he was finished. "those gems on your nails are going to get lodged in this and you'll end up choking or something."

"ha ha not funny." she rolled her eyes. "it's for you, dummy."

"i dont want it."

"yeah well, orange peel theory." y/n grumbled.

chan threw his head back and laughed. he had heard about the theory from seungkwan and didn't care for it, knowing that no matter how many relationship theories came about, he and y/n were secure in their relationship. though, that didn't stop him from finding her attempts to prove the theory right funny. "you failed then?"

"because of you!"

@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @bubbly-moon @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

#lsdfkjas;lkdfjs the way it took me so long to come up with different scenarios for each of the boys im puking #moments like this is when i realized 13 men IS a lot #writers who do scenarios for all 13 boys are gods strongest soldier #seventeen imagines #svt scenarios #spamwrites #hoshi x reader #soonyoung x reader #junhui x reader #jun x reader #minghao x reader #myungho x reader #the8 x reader #dino x reader #chan x reader

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roanniom · 2 years

Text

The Shift

Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Read Part 2 Here

Summary: On a sweltering shift at family video, Steve Harrington gets on your nerves.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, Smut, fingering, dirty talk, grinding, PIV sex, semi-public sex, light degradation, enemies to lovers, slight period-correct sexism and homophobia from a customer

It’s positively sweltering inside Family Video today. The box fan on the front counter does absolutely nothing to cool you down, especially as the tension within you runs hotter than the outside sun itself.

You shouldn’t be here. Today was your day off and you’d had plans with your friends for a pool day to beat the heat, knowing that today was forecasted to be the hottest of the year so far. Instead, you’ve been roped in to cover for Robin. And as much as you love her, part of you kinda secretly hopes she chokes on the milkshake she’s probably enjoying on her date right about now.

You don’t really want her to choke of course. You’ve been hyping her up for her eventual first date with Vicki for a long time now. It warms your cold, dead, perennially single heart to see your friend getting something she’s really wanted. Something she never thought would happen for her, especially not in Hawkins, Indiana.

But Hawkins, Indiana is exactly where you wish you weren’t right now. You’d rather be somewhere cool. Somewhere with ice and a breeze and fresh air.

Somewhere without Steve Harrington.

“You’ve been hogging the fan all day, trainee. Come on, give another sweaty bastard a turn.”

Speak of the devil.

You turn and glare directly into the face of your nemesis. Okay, nemesis is a little bit of an exaggeration. You aren’t mortal enemies, perhaps, but you would love to smack his smug face. Just once.

“For the last time. Stop calling me that. I have been working here almost as long as you,” you huff, not bothering to move an inch out of the radius of the fan.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I am the one who trained you. Making you - eternally - my trainee,” Steve responds, elbowing his way around you and into the line of semi-cool air.

“I was literally hired a month after you.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I showed you the ropes.”

“Only because the manager spent the night passed out in the ditch behind the liquor store.” You finish reboxing your last rewound tape, clicking it closed with a definitive snap.

“Hey. Jessie’s doing really well in rehab these days. Give him a break.” Steve pulls the stocking cart up and around to the counter and reaches for the tapes you’d just stacked. You yank them away from his grasp and haul them over to the cart yourself.

“And by ‘showed you the ropes’ are you referring to the fact that you broke the label maker in front of me and taught me how to get free snacks out of the break room vending machine?” You start pushing the cart towards the comedy section, not bothering to wait for Steve’s response.

“Hey! You should be thanking me for every bag of Reese’s Pieces I see you scarfing each day.” Steve comes up jogging behind you, grabbing the copy of Weird Science out of your hand before you can shelve it.

“Shut up, Harrington. As if you aren’t slamming M&M’s by the bushel.” You try to reach for the tape but he holds it up out of your reach. Damn his stupid height.

“Don’t you dare act like M&M’s aren’t the superior candy.”

“They melt in your hand - ,”

“So do Reese’s Pieces!” Steve cries out, interrupting you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Steve. I forgot that a handful of goopy M&M’s are what helped E.T. assimilate to this planet,” you say, rolling your eyes and abandoning Weird Science to his grasp. Let him shelve the damn thing. You move on to the next aisle.

Steve, of course, follows behind.

“You and that stupid little alien.” Which of course makes you round on him, to which he throws Weird Science up in front of himself as a shield.

“E.T. is a seminal piece of filmmaking and Spielberg’s best work to date, so don’t you get started again -,”

“Oh bullshit. His best work?” Steve’s brow is furrowed darkly as if you’ve committed some irredeemable act instead of simply disagreeing with his film opinions.

“Um, excuse me? A little help here?” The voice of Ms. Jenkins, elderly and snippy, issues from the front counter where she stands with a handful of tapes. You give Steve a mean look and bound over to your solitary customer.

“Yes of course, let me ring you up, ma’am,” you say sweetly, making quick work of checking to make sure the tapes are rewound before scanning and reading off the total to her. You always have to double check that tapes are rewound because you sure as hell can’t be certain that Steve has done his job when that particular chore is on his list of responsibilities.

By the time Ms. Jenkins is out the door with her rentals, Steve’s pushed the cart to the shelves closest to the counter, lazily fingering the spines of the horror tapes in a bored pursuit of a particular alphabetic location.

“Jaws.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said Jaws.”

“What about Jaws?” you ask with a sigh, leaning your hip against the counter and crossing your arms.

“Spielberg’s best movie.”

“Grow up, Harrington.”

“Excuse me?!” Steve drops the tape he’s holding and rushes over to you with fists raised. “Are you suggesting there’s something childish about enjoying Jaws?”

“Maybe,” you shrug, noncommittal. You don’t actually believe that, you just have found yourself in this rhetorical hole with Steve before and you don’t really want to get into an actual discussion. That and you love riling him up. It’s easier than committing to a movie to pop into the vcr above the counter and just as entertaining.

“You…I just…ughh.” Steve seems at a loss for words as he grapples with your vague criticism as if it isn’t the thousandth time you’ve had this argument. “That movie is a mature, grown up cinematic masterpiece and I can prove it. Number one,” he holds up one finger. “It is gory as hell. There’s a fuck ton of blood.”

“Violence is your evidence of maturity, Harrington?”

Steve scoffs at you and lifts up a second finger.

“Number two, the score is iconic.” He hunches a little and starts stalking towards you slowly, predatorily. “Duuun uh, duuun uh, dun uh dun uh dun uh - ,”

“I know the score, Steve!” you speak over his crescendoing vocalization.

“Come on! That’s iconic!” You roll your eyes but nod.

“I mean yeah. You got me there.”

“Ahah!” Steve punches the air as if he’s one some massive victory rather than simply receiving your noncommittal agreement on one part of a larger argument. He holds up a third finger. “And to round us out with number three - tits.”

Exactly as he says ‘tits’ - proudly and loudly, you notice - an elderly gentleman walks into the store. He freezes in the doorway looking at the two of you, clearly affronted.

“Good afternoon, sir! Let us know if you need any help!” you hastily speak up, distancing yourself from Steve and plastering on a huge smile. The man harumphs and walks into the store, grumbling something about ‘kids these days.’ You turn and shoot daggers at a sheepish looking Steve.

“Tits? Really?” Your whisper comes out poisonous.

“What’s more mature than tits?” he asks, equally hushed.

“Obviously not you, moron.” You start making your way back to the cart but stop in your tracks, thinking. Instead, you turn back and whisper to him. “Wait…when are there tits in Jaws?”

~*~

Ten minutes later, after the disapproving customer had checked out, copy of Cocoon in hand (a little on the nose, something you tried not to laugh about as you rang him up), you and Steve both stand huddled near the tv hooked up to the VCR.

You’re watching the opening sequence, where two teens are giving each other eyes across the way at a bonfire party. It’s charged. It’s flirtatious. The girl gets up and heads towards the beach, the guy following in hot, drunken pursuit.

It’s a cute moment. A calm before the storm, you think, because of course you know better. You know what’s going to happen in just a few moments. But suspended in time, this couple’s cat and mouse game is sexy. It’s playful.

It’s not the point of the scene, but you feel yourself getting riled up. Not exactly turned on but…what’s the word? Yearning? Pathetic. It’s been a little too long since you’ve gotten any and the heat is getting you your head, you reason with yourself internally.

As the girl gets closer to the water she begins discarding her clothes in preparation for what everyone knows will be her final skinny dip. As she does so, Steve hurtles forward and hits the pause button, freezing her perfectly in time as her shirt comes over her head revealing the silhouette of heavy breasts, mid swing.

“Tits!” Steve cries out, pointing directly at the revealed breasts on screen. “I fucking told you.”

“What do you want, Steve? A cookie?” You make sure your face stays neutral. You don’t want to give away the fact that the sexual implications of the scene have you all hot and bothered. Harrington doesn’t deserve that information.

“You said there weren’t any tits in Jaws.”

“I asked when were there tits in Jaws. I apologize that a pair of movie breasts didn’t imprint chemically in my brain the way they did for you.”

“I’m sorry. When did the prude switch shifts with the trainee? I didn’t get the memo.” Steve says haughtily, ejecting the tape from the VCR and putting it back in its case. Your jaw drops at his words but he pays you no mind, walking back to reshelf the movie. You run after him.

“I’m not a fucking prude, Harrington.”

“Oh I know you’re not. That’s what I’m getting at.” Steve slots Jaws back in its place and heads back towards the break room.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” you demand, hot on his trail.

“I’m at the same parties you go to, trainee. I’m not blind. You like to have a good time.” He shrugs, walking up to the beaten old vending machine. It’s much hotter here in the back room than it was out on the main floor, probably due to the lack of windows and fans. Steve kicks the corner of the vending machine and raps his knuckles against the side panel before reaching to type the code for the M&M’s. You lunge forward and beat him to it, slamming your finger down on a different button. “Fuck! Seriously?!”

“You’re really going to slut shame me? Here at work?” You ask, snatching the packet of Reese’s Pieces as it falls into the dispenser tray.

“The pot is very much calling the kettle black here, don’t you think?” Steve kicks the corner of the machine and taps the side again, but instead of beeping in recognition, the machine stays dormant. You pop a candy in your mouth smugly as Steve grunts in frustration.

“I’m not the whore of Hawkins, Harrington. But that might be a title with which you can identify.”

“Nice alliteration, brainiac.” Steve kicks the machine harder this time. Clearly with more malicious intent towards the hulking appliance rather than with the strategy of overriding the payment mechanism.

“You know about alliteration? You didn’t skip that lesson in English class to fondle a bimbo under the bleachers?” You pop another candy in your mouth and fan yourself. The heat is starting to get to you. It is suffocating in this room. Your collar is stuck to your neck and you grab at the front of your shirt, billowing it out to try and stimulate an internal breeze. You look up and find Steve staring at the place where your hand pulls at your clothes, but he’s quick to look away, shoving a hand through his messy hair.

“Oh yeah? I’m not the one pushing my tits together whenever a slightly attractive guy comes in. I swear I saw you almost put your hand down the pants of that ex-football loser who came in here looking for fucking Flash Gordon for the tenth time.”

You gasp at his audacity. Because how dare he say that to you but also because it is objectively untrue. You had lightly flirted with the man, sure. You were bored and he had broad shoulders. Sue you. But Steve has no right to any sort of commentary.

“I’m sorry Mr. This-way-to-the-romance-section-and-while-we’re-at-it-why-don’t-you-come-watch-it-at-my-place Harrington. A blonde with big boobs so much as thinks about walking in here and your eyes are popping out of your head and your tongue is trailing on the floor.”

“You’re using the description of a horny cartoon character to describe me? Nice. Real nice.” Steve bangs on the side of the machine with his fist one more time and you let out a groan.

“Stop beating up the vending machine, for fuck’s sake. Here!” You reach into your pocket and grab a dollar, thrusting it into his face. Steve swats your hand away.

“I have money, trainee.” He reaches into his own pocket and fishes out a dollar which he proceeds to jam unceremoniously into the slot.

You drop yourself into one of the seats at the lunch table and grab for a magazine to fan yourself with.

“Well if you’re so loaded, why are you always stealing snacks?”

Steve ignores you, punching in the correct code this time. When another packet of Reese’s Pieces drops instead of the M&Ms he’d asked for, he lets out massive cry of frustration.

“What the fuck?”

“Well that’s the funniest thing I’ve seen all day,” you say, crossing your arms in your seat and biting your lip to keep from smiling widely.

“What the FUCK!”

“Maybe it’s karma, for being such an asshole to me,” you shrug. Steve whips around, shooting you daggers.

“I’ve had it about up to here with you today, trainee.” He stalks over to the water cooler and rips out a little cone paper cup, accidentally pulling out three too many in the process. You continue fanning yourself with the magazine languidly.

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry dad.”

Steve actually barks a laugh at that and looks at you over his shoulder, filling the paper cup with room temp water.

“You’re not the first to make that association.”

“Oh gross, Harrington. I didn’t ask for insight into your sex life,” you pretend to gag.

Steve knocks back the water and crushes the paper cone in his fist, tossing it over his shoulder as he goes to join you at the table. You are positively irked to notice that he makes it perfectly into the trash without even looking.

“That’s not what I meant but I’m not opposed to being called daddy, fyi,” he says, winking at you.

“I’m sure you’re not. Seems right up your alley.” Your words are derisive but you can’t help the breathless quality they take on. It must be a side effect of this fucking heat. You’re not taking in air properly.

“Yeah? Well I’ll bet you’re really mean between the sheets.”

“Oh you’ll bet that?” you ask with a snort, trying to ignore the paradoxical shiver that runs through your body at the implication.

“Yeah. You seem to derive a sick pleasure from giving me a hard time. Wouldn’t be shocked if insults turn you on.”

“Not a super fan of being degraded, Steve. Sorry to burst your bubble,” you reply lightly. Like his suggestion didn’t just add a palpitation to your heart beat. Steve bites his lip contemplatively.

“Well I really meant that I think you like being the one to dish out the insults,” he clarifies. But then he’s leaning closer to you across the table, a smirk spreading across his face as he takes in the way your posture is scrunching defensively. “But actually now that I think of it…I feel like you probably would like being degraded.”

“Excuse me?” you exhale sharply, realizing you’d been holding your breath as his proximity increased.

“You’re a perfectionist. A good girl, or you are most of the time, as we’ve established.” Steve’s finger slides across the table towards you and your gaze locks on its approaching motion. “I could see you looking for an excuse to let go of all that pressure. To be bad.”

You’ve stopped breathing again, mesmerized by his slow words and the trajectory of his sliding finger. Then suddenly he’s reaching out and snatching the half empty bag of Reese’s Pieces from your grasp, upending it in the air above his face and crunching down on the remaining candy.

“Hey!” you cry out, lunging for him only to be stopped by his defensive hand outstretching and catching you, holding you an arm length away. Steve makes a face.

“It’s a crime that this is peanut butter instead of chocolate.”

You grab him by the front of the shirt and get very close to him, glaring up into his stupid, pretty face.

“You’ll pay for that, Steve Harrington.”

“Yeah? How?” he asks. His eyes are looking down into yours, the remnants of his smirk slowly fading from his face. The heat is sweltering. Hotter than it’s been during your entire shift and you really should run out the front door for some air before you pass out but…you’re rooted to the spot.

You inhale in order to respond - not even sure of what you’ll say once the words start flowing - but you’re immediately interrupted by the ding of the bell on the front door.

“Hello? Anybody here?”

The customer’s voice cuts through the tension between you and you let go of Steve’s shirt like it’s on fire.

“Just a minute!” you call out in your sing-song-y customer service voice. You hear Steve groan behind you but you don’t give him a second thought as you dash out onto the floor of the store.

The same grumpy man from earlier stands at the counter, grumpier than ever and brandishing his tape towards you.

“I got all the way home just to realize that the wrong tape is in this blasted box.” He wrenches open the case for Cocoon to reveal a copy of Tootsie. You try not to laugh at his absurdly wounded expression and grab the tape from him.

“I am so sorry, sir, we’ll get this sorted for you,” you assure, turning around to let out a silent chuckle. You shuffle through the bare tapes on the counter and find the correct one, silently cursing Steve for his disorganization.

“This is unacceptable, young lady,” the old man grumbles as you put the Cocoon tape in its box.

“Everyone makes mistakes, unfortunately.”

“I expect a higher quality of service. I fought on D Day, you know.”

“We did not know that, thank you for your service,” Steve mumbles sarcastically coming up beside you behind the counter. The man doesn’t catch his facetiousness and wags a fervent finger.

“That’s right. I should be treated with some respect.”

“Without a doubt,” Steve replies. You silently snap the tape box closed and hand it over, trying not to look annoyed.But the man doesn’t take it from you. Instead he points over at the stack of tapes where you had placed the copy of Tootsie.

“She tried to give me a movie with a man in a dress,” he accuses and you scoff. Steve glances over, clocking which movie it is and no doubt realizing that the mistake was his own.

“Well, I’ll be honest with you, she was doing you a favor, because Dustin Hoffman is just a delight - ,”

“As her manager, I think you should fire her,” the man interrupts Steve.

“Excuse me?” you ask, shocked at his audacity. Steve holds his hands up in a time out symbol.

“First of all, I’m not her manager, and second of all. She’s done nothing wrong.”

“She gave me a fruity movie!” the man cries out.

“Ok then,” you push away from the counter and head towards the back room, completely done with this interaction.

“Sir, fruit is delicious,” Steve argues, distracted as he watches you stalk off to the back, anxious to follow. The old man wags his finger even more violently.

“I’ll be telling the owner, just you wait. Do you take me for a fruit, young man?” he raises his voice.

“Yeah a raisin, sir. Please get out of my store.” Steve’s voice lowers in tone, but the authority in it increases tenfold. “Now.”

~*~

Steve finds you pacing around the break room, a paper water cone crushed in your hand. He approaches to comfort you, but the second he enters, you round on him.

“How could you do that to me?”

“Do what? Defend you?” Steve’s bewildered by your reaction, hands up in the air in front of himself defensively.

“I wouldn’t need defending if you weren’t such a fuck up at your job, Steve.” You flail a hand in the direction of the front counter.

“You said it yourself that everyone makes mistakes.”

“I was lying, Harrington. I don’t make mistakes. You make enough for the both of us.” You go to turn away from him but he grabs your elbow.

“Oh what, and you’re Ms. Fucking Perfect? Huh?” You wrench your elbow out his grasp.

“In comparison to you? Hell yeah.”

“That’s rich,” Steve barks out a laugh, running a hand through the hair at the back of his head. His stance squares off with you and he too points out toward the front counter. “How many times have I had to save you from customers who are asking for films you’ve never fucking heard about?”

“Shut up, Steve,” you roll your eyes and Steve gets more emphatic.

“How many times have I had to come stop some creep who’s being weird to you?”

“Oh fuck you. My hero. My white knight, scaring away the big bad men,” you say in a mocking tone. You cross your arms over your chest and for the first time since walking into the back room Steve notices that you have unbuttoned a large portion of the top buttons on your shirt, probably due to the heat. With your arms folded over your chest, he can see your cleavage and he swallows. You notice and drop your arms with a scoff. “You fucking pervert. You’re no better than the rest of them!”

“What? What?!” Steve blusters, trying to play off the fact that you caught him staring.

“You’re a fucking horn dog, that’s what.”

“Oh please.” He turns around with a dismissive laugh and you step forward to follow him, staying in his space.

“You know what I think? I think the reason you give me a hard time is because I never gave you the time of day,” you declare, putting your hands on your hips. The heat is rising within you now. The air is stifling and electric around you as Steve takes an angry step closer to you and you feel crackling as if you’re in the middle of a heat lightning storm.

“Well you’re way off base with that theory, trainee,” Steve bites out. He’s smirking at you. Goddamn smirking at you as if he’s got the upperhand in spite of what you’ve just accused him of.

“And what makes you say that?”

“Because I know you asked Robin if I was single when you first started working here,” he says smugly. He folds his arms across his own chest now and you curse your fucking eyes because they widen while taking in the way his biceps now look. Large and defined as his sleeves shift up.

“So? That doesn’t prove anything. Maybe I just wanted to know if you were cheating on a girlfriend with all the flirting you insist on doing,” you manage to reply coolly. But Steve’s shaking his head before you even finish your statement.

“I believe your words were - and I quote - ‘Is Steve single? Because he’s hot as fuck. I’d let that boy bend me over the break room table’.” His voice takes on a high pitched mocking quality as he approximates your tone.

Your eyes blow wide and your jaw drops to the floor.

“Robin, that bitch.”

“Don’t blame Robin for your horny fantasies, trainee.” He’s got a smile on his face that you just want to slap off. Your fingers flex at your sides but you hold yourself back, taking a deep breath.

“Then you don’t blame her for the fact that she told me you get a semi every time I wear these jeans?”

Steve’s eyes practically bug out of his head and dart down to look at the jeans in question. You quirk an eye up, your turn to smile.

“I - what? No!”

“So she lied? This doesn’t do it for you?” you ask, turning slightly and leaning on the back of a chair so that your ass stuck out a little, accentuating your curves. Steve’s gaze drops to your ass before pinballing all the way around the room, desperately looking at anything and everything other than you.

“That’s not…you’re full of…”

“No, you’re full of it, Harrington. Admit it,” you say, straightening up and pointing at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says, standing a little straighter and looking at you now that you’re no longer presenting your ass to him.

“You find me irresistable,” you accuse. Steve laughs loudly and without humor.

“And yet here I am. Perfectly capable of resisting,” he says, standing his ground. “Meanwhile you’re practically throwing yourself at me.”

“You fucking wish!”

“In your dreams.”

“In my nightmares.”

The next few seconds seem to play out, paradoxically, both sped up and in slow motion. The heat fills the space around you, almost thick enough to cushion the air. And then Steve’s body is hurtling towards yours. Or yours towards his - you can’t be sure. All you are aware of is movement and then contact. The woosh of air and then the solidness of impact.

Steve’s hands are on your waist, pulling your body against his as his lips crash against yours. Your hands are in his hair before you can even think about it, your movements automatic and entirely involuntary as far as you’re concerned. Fingers fisting in his locks you kick yourself internally because they feel exactly like you thought they would. Fucking pretty haired pretty boy.

His tongue is at the seam of your lips, forcing your mouth open ruthlessly and you comply, allowing him to sweep inside. Steve turns his head to the side, deepening the kiss and pushing down into you until you feel yourself being folded back, his hand sliding to your tailbone to support you through the dip.

When he pulls away, both of you gasping for air, he doesn’t move far, instead dipping to suck biting kisses against your throat.

“You gonna tell me to stop?”

His words don’t make any sense as they enter your hazy brain. One of your hands drops to his shoulder, grasping. Clinging really as he delivers a particularly rough suck to the place beneath your ear.

“W-what?”

“If you hate me so much this must be torture for you,” he breathes into your skin. The smugness has returned to his voice, muted though it is against your throat.

“I fucking hate you, Harrington,” you seethe. He’s laughing now against your throat.

“I know, that’s what I just said - ,”

You cut him off by roughly grabbing him by the hair and bringing him back to your lips. The moan he looses into your mouth has you humming with a satisfaction that seeps deep down into your core. He’s not getting the upper hand so easily. Not if you have anything to say about it.

Now on a single-minded mission to ruin him, you reach down and splay your hand out against his lower back, rolling your hips forward in tandem with the motion in order to grind your pelvis against his. He lets out a groan that you feel in your extremities, so you repeat the move.

Suddenly the hands that are on your waist drop to your hips and wrench you around so your back is to him. The twirl disorients you and you gasp, blinking at the back of the break room and panting as Steve’s hands pull you back - ass against his pelvis.

He slaps a hand on the back of your thigh - making you whine - and slides up your curve to grip a handful of your ass.

“I’ll be the bigger person,” he says with a heavy chuckle into your ear. “I can admit these jeans do it for me.”

A laugh rocks through your body in spite of yourself.

“Oh yeah? They giving you a semi?” you ask jokingly. Steve pulls you back against him, hips bracketing your ass, and you feel him pressing into you. Hard. Nothing semi about it.

“What do you think?” His voice is gruff now, his lower half grinding slowly, deliberately into yours.

“I think you’re hard,” you say on an exhale. His laugh is full throated and his grip on your hips tighten.

“Very observant, trainee. A+ work.” His face buries itself into the crook between your neck and shoulder, lips toying with the skin there.

“Don’t call me trainee.” Your voice is breathless but for once there is no menace in it when you say the sentence you’ve yelled at him a million times.

“No? What should I call you then?” His lips are at your ear. His fingertips dig into your hips and push you back into him. Making you feel him. “Baby? Darling?”

You let out a gasping laugh when he bucks into you from behind, knocking you off balance a bit so you have to lean forward and grasp the edge of the table. He follows you down, chest still against your back.

“...slut?”

You’d love it if your response was to laugh in his face. To pry his hands off of you, straighten up your clothes, and walk out the door. But that’s not what happens.

You moan.

He says the word and you moan.

It’s dark and filthy and you feel hot shame the minute it issues from your mouth, but the way his fingers tense immediately has got heat pooling directly between your thighs.

“Holy shit.”

“I…that doesn’t…”

“Holy shit!” His words are laughing and victorious and he’s nuzzling his face over your shoulder even as you try to crouch away. “I fucking called it.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” you argue, even as your back arches slightly and find yourself rocking back into him. His hand slides over the slope of your hip to the front of your jeans.

“You moaned, trainee. I called you a slut and you moaned.” Steve’s hand cups your mound then, middle finger pressing up into the center seam of your jeans.

“F-fuck…” You swivel your hips to grind down into his hand, suddenly getting a taste of the friction you’d begun to crave.

Steve uses his hand between your legs to ground you against him, giving him leverage with which to rub his hard-on directly into your ass.

“You can lie all you want. Calling you a slut is making you writhe for me…like a cute little slut.”

You huff out an exhale and look over your shoulder at him.

“Is it the word or the fact that you’re practically fingering me through my jeans and humping me? Which is it, Steve?”

His cocky smile only widens and he shoots forward to steal a kiss over your shoulder since you’re looking at him.

“Both?”

“Oh christ, Harrington…” you trail off as his hand slides up and starts opening your jeans.

“You do have a point though…” he says, biting his lip in concentration. He yanks your jeans down over your ass, leaving them bunched around your knees. His hand cups you through your underwear before yanking them to the side, fingers sweeping directly over your wet slit as you shiver. “Through the jeans wasn’t that efficient.”

“Pretty boy worries about efficiency?” you ask derisively. His finger has found your clit with no problem and your knees are feeling weaker by the second, but you definitely aren’t going to go easy on him.

“Being pretty isn’t the only thing I’m good at, you know,” he says with humor. You find the wherewithal to reach back and peel his other hand off your hip, bringing it to close around your breast. Steve intakes breath sharply.

“Same,” you reply with a smirk. He gropes you experimentally through your shirt before rooting underneath the hem to find your bra-clad breast.

“So you think you’re pretty?” he taunts.

“You do.”

“I think you’re pretty or I think I’m pretty?” Steve asks, pulling your breast out of the cup and pinching your nipple just as he sinks a finger into your pussy.

“Fuck…the first one…both…just shut up,” you grit out and arch your back.

“I knew you’d been mean to me,” Steve quips before sinking his teeth lightly into your shoulder.

“Steve, do you want to fuck me?” you ask, voice tinged with annoyance. His head shoots over your shoulder to try and get a look at your face.

“I can fuck you?” He sounds like an enthusiastic puppy dog and your heart lurches in spite of itself.

“Not if you keep making fun of me, you can’t,” you say, though there’s humor in the words.

“Ahh, you can dish it but you can’t take it. I get it. That’s cool.” Steve’s tone is casual. The exact opposite of his actions as he slowly adds another finger into your dripping channel. You keen forward, both from the force of the pleasure and from the way your reaction makes him grind his dick even harder against your ass.

“Um…Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“So…are you going to fuck me?”

Your question makes him laugh and has his hips stuttering against you.

“Eager to make the fantasy of me bending you over this table a reality?”

“No. Eager to fast forward to the part where you wake up having creamed your pj’s thinking of me,” you retort, this time with a massive smile on your face as you recall the story you’d been told about Steve’s wet dreams. Steve groans.

“Fucking Robin,” he says, letting go of your breast to reach down and open his own pants.

“She’s the worst,” you agree. The anticipation is mounting and sweat drips off your brow. You’d down on your elbows now, bent over the table, and you can’t see Steve behind you, but you can hear the rustle of clothing. He yanks your jeans and underwear down to your ankles suddenly and you yelp and he nudges your thighs open so your legs are spread hip-width apart.

You wait a few breathless heart beats until the sound of skin on skin - which does not include your own - has you looking over your shoulder.

Steve is standing behind you, his own pants pooled at his feet, with his cock in his hand. He’s gripping it, giving it long, slow strokes as his eyes hungrily consume your half-bare body.

“I…think you might kill me,” he says seriously, dragging his eyes up from your pussy to your face. You gesture down to the cock he is fisting, eyeing the size.

“Back at you.”

He laughs at your response and heat rushes through you at how beautiful he looks with the smile cracking his face wide. You want him. Now.

So you turn back around and bend yourself over the table again, shifting side to side to sway your ass at him enticingly.

Steve’s on you not even a second later. His hands smooth over your hips and waist and his cock slides between your legs, between your folds.

“Holy shit. Holy shit.” He’s repeating the phrase over and over under his breath and you’d laugh but you’re feeling similarly speechless. Impatient now, you reach back and take his cock in your hand, making him hiss. You arch and lean forward, guiding his tip into you until his hands grip your hips and he steps forward, slipping in inch by inch.

“Oh fuck,” you both swear, practically in unison. Steve remains still for a second to let you adjust, and also to ground himself as he takes in all of what is happening in this moment.

You find yourself nearly shaking from the feel of him inside you. He feels so good and it’s been a long, empty summer so far. Of course you’re horny, you reason with yourself in your head as you shift forward, trying to entice him to move, which he does. He’s hot and you’re horny and and it feels good. It feeels good.

“Yeah? Feels good?”

Shit. You’ve been speaking your thoughts out loud. You go to contradict him - to take it back - but then he’s kissing your neck and you can’t help but hum.

“Yeah. It’s good.”

He finds a steady pace before the his words return again, this time more hoarse than before.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he groans out, thrusting into you particularly hard. Feeling sweat slick your skin you laugh.

“It’s because there’s no fan in here.”

“Oh, she’s shy about compliments suddenly,” Steve intuits and you roll your eyes, though he can’t see it. “She knows she’s hot but doesn’t want me to point it out?”

“Steve…” you warn, but there’s little else you can do as he reaches a hand down to the apex of your thighs and starts fingering your clit. You grip numbly at the table.

“Yeah, baby? You want me to stop talking about your incredible body?” he teases, his other hand coming down flat over your back to push you further down into the table before reclaiming your hip. “How good it feels to be inside you?”

“You’re a cocky bastard,” you say, but it comes out in a whine. You’re record-breakingly close to cumming and your brain and body seem disconnected. Unsure of what to do about the short circuiting feeling of shame and pleasure and annoyance and fondness, all of which are completely Steve’s fault.

“You’ve got that right, sweetheart,” he responds, inhaling sharply when you clench around him in response. “What’s that? So you like being called sweetheart?”

“Mmmm,” is all you manage to moan out, though he takes it correctly as an affirmation. He has both hands gripping your waist now, allowing nothing to distract him from pounding into you, chasing his own release now while also rocketing you towards your own.

“So you do like a little sweetness after all.” It’s teasing but you’re too fucked out to care at this point. So close. So close. Steve’s kissing the spot under your ear as he slows down to fuck you harder. Deeper. “Good thing I like it sweet. That’s how I’ve always wanted to be with you, sweetheart.”

Is it cheesy? Yes. Is it something that usually would have you slapping him and walking away? Yes.

But now you’re cumming. Crying out his name as his cock slides into you, your walls bearing down and spasming around him.

You don’t even know where your orgasm ends and his begins, you’re so blinded by pleasure. But he’s shaking around you and his hips are stuttering and then his weight is pressing you into the table as he pants.

There’s a split second where your shared breathe is all you can sense. His skin on yours has you buzzing and your muscles are jelly. You don’t even have a moment to think about repercussions or right or wrong. There’s just…Steve.

And then the bell rings in the distance indicating someone has entered the front door.

“Hellooo!” Comes Robin’s sing song voice. “Do my sad single friends want to hear how my date went?”

~*~

Read Part 2 Here

Steve / Stranger Things tag list (some of these are assumptions based on your interactions with my posts about my steve fic, so sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged!): @boomhauer @asbisexualasitgets @bluetreecloud20 @flightless-b1rds let-my-ship-sail @fandomsimper @livlovelaughh @maggiemaes-stuff @adultnitemares @wonderfulw0rldx @bellaiscool @halolani supe-r-nova r4nd0mf4nd0mz25 spookyreidd cmlover101 coolestgirlhere jadenswifey22 ashleighjadecharlton everybodywantstobetouched uhcastiels monsterhighprincess99 misaamaneswifey steveharringtonsdaddy getoutandtouchtherain alexxavicry craze4bau sabrinablack194 iseultult devonisntreal navybluebitch macey730 izbot6 sweetkyotto @millenialcatlady creme-delacreme s-trawberryv-eins amatchinwater vamdevil xoxchanxl mrssharrington edwardmunsn moonyscardigans wayward-rose

#steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington/you #steve harrington x fem!reader #fem!reader

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allfryam · 6 months

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the office part 2

Jason was loving his new job. All of the people were great, he barely did any work, and he was never hungry. Speaking of hungry, it was lunchtime and him and Connor were going down to the food court. Jason ordered 3 double cheeseburgers, a large shake, a side of Mac and cheese, and some fries. “Do you want anything?” He asked Connor.

after gorging on enough food to feed a family of three, Jason leaned back in his chair, revealing a sliver of his smooth belly under his shirt. Jason had gained over 25 pounds in the first month working at the office. He had yet to notice because he was convinced he was still perfectly in shape. He tugged his shirt back over his belly and let out a big burp. “I think these shirts shrink after a bit.” He said. “Yeah. Same happened to mine.” Said Connor. “You should come over to my place later.” Connor said. He explained the new x-box game he just got to Jason. Jason wasn’t all that interested until Connor mentioned pizza. “I’ll be there at 6.”

arriving at Connor’s apartment, Jason noticed 6 large pizzas sitting on the counter. His mouth was already watering. They sat down to play the new game and dig into the pizzas. Connor had easily eaten the first pizza, but he was struggling on the second one. “Man I’m full”. He said. “Oh well. More for me” Jason quickly grabbed the box and grabbed two slices at a time, one in each hand, guzzling down the slices as fast as he could. He was like a machine. He didn’t even slow down until after he finished the third box. He hated wasting food so he kept eating but it wasn’t easy. He got another few slices in before he had to take a break. “Yo do you care if I take my shirt off? It’s kinda hot in here”. “Ya sure man”. Jason took off his skin tight shirt and revealed his tight stomach. It was round and soft and sat just on top of his belt. His chiseled pecs were growing softer too. They began to sag and get bigger they were almost all the way to his belly. He took off his belt and unbuttoned his tight pants. His growing gut surged forward with a groan. “Fuuuuucckk”. “That feels so much better”. He burped and grabbed another slice of pizza.

by the end of the night, there were still 5 or 6 slices of pizza left but both boys were stuffed. “Dude I think I can eat them but I need help”. Jason said. “help?” “ yeah. Just help me eat these.” “Ok.”

Connor grabbed a slice and walked over to Jason. Jason leaned back and closed his eyes. Connor shoved the slice into Jason’s mouth as far as he could. Jason mindlessly chewed and groaned as he ate. Connor continued the cycle until there was one slice left. Jason’s belly was taut and red. It looked like a balloon that was inflated too much. “Uuuugghhh” Jason moaned. But Connor didn’t stop. He stuffed the last piece into Jason’s mouth and forced him to chew. After what seemed like hours, Jason finally swallowed and finished the pizza. He had eaten four and a half LARGE pizzas all by himself. He promptly passed out on Connors couch with his stomach grumbling in pain.

A very similar routine would occur for the next month and Jason loved it. He got to steal some delicious donuts from the break room, have an enormous lunch with Connor and then go back to Connor’s place and play video games and eat some more takeout. Jason’s frame was quickly expanding, and he had no clue. He had started to notice a few changes however. He couldn’t fit into his work pants anymore so he would leave them unbuttoned and hire it under his shirt. He had gone through three sizes of shirts since he got the job, but he still believed his dryer was shrinking them. Jason had no idea he was over 50 pounds heavier than he was just a few months ago, and Connor liked it that way.

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eretzyisrael · 6 months

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This account, first published in JewishNews, is written by an anonymous London-based Guardian employee who has family living on a kibbutz in southern Israel. It offers a look at life in the newspaper’s offices in the days since Hamas’s attack on Israel.

I wake up on October 7 to a text from my brother-in-law: “Thoughts are with your family in Israel. I hope everyone is safe.”

I check the news. Hamas has entered southern Israel. They’re in a kibbutz. My partner’s family is in that kibbutz. His cousin is nine months pregnant. He’s in contact with them; they’re in the safe room. Terrorists are outside.

I check social media. Reports of hostages, maybe three. I check again; perhaps ten.

There has been a massacre at a music festival. I look at the video. Who do I know there? I check social media again; there are videos of hostages. I look at their faces. Do I know them?

We lose contact with family in the kibbutz. I tell myself that the phone lines are down because the IDF are there. I watch Hamas footage as it is coming out. I go on Telegram for the first time in my life and I see a room full of bodies covered in blood. I see children gunned down. I see the bodies of raped women. I see families holding each other as Hamas livestreams atrocities. I look for people I might know.

My partner and I walk 30,000 steps. There’s nothing we can do. Late that evening we hear that his family is safe but their house is gone, neighbors are dead.

I don’t understand. I could have easily been there and part of me thinks I was.

I look at the papers the next day. The newspaper I work for has a tank on the front page: ‘Hundreds die and hostages held as Hamas assault shocks Israel’—victorious terrorists hold a Palestinian flag. The subheading reads ‘Netanyahu declares war as 150 Israelis die. 230 Palestinians killed in air strikes.’

I don’t understand. I know people, Israelis, who were murdered. They did not “die,” as if in some kind of accident. I saw footage of terrorism. It was not an “assault.”

The front page of The Observer, The Guardian’s sister Sunday newspaper, on October 8, the day after the Hamas massacre. (via The Observer)

On Sunday, we get more information about what happened to my partner’s family, about how Hamas set the family’s house on fire when they thought it was empty, how my partner’s cousin screamed for her life when the room filled with smoke, how her husband had to pin her down to stop her cries, how Hamas laughed when they realized the family would need to crawl out of the room, how they refused to leave the burning building. We hear that they somehow survived and walked out through pools of their neighbors’ blood, pieces of dead children littering the street; kids who’d been playing on a Saturday morning.

I’m safe, I’m fine, but I can’t comprehend the color of the sky or the rustle of the trees. I look around at people enjoying their Sunday and I think: Do they not know what is happening? I check the news again and see there are more hostages. I look through the names.

There are still terrorists in Israel.

I listen to the radio, one Israeli interviewee and then one Palestinian. I can hear that the interviewer is struggling as defenders of Hamas justify terrorism. I don’t understand. Is this how they reported the Russian invasion of Ukraine? Did they platform Putin’s people?

I check social media. A friend has posted: “They’ve broken out of jail.” Another has said: “Today is a day of celebration,” and someone else has shared an infographic of “Settler colonialism for beginners.” My old flatmate tells her followers she will be at the demonstration outside the Israeli embassy and she invites people to join her.

On Monday I go to work. How are your family, a colleague asks. When I answer, she squirms. Can’t they just leave, my colleague says. No, they can’t actually.

I look at the morning newsletter for the newspaper I work for. It breaks down the number of dead Palestinian children. It does not mention dead Israeli children.

My group chats are exploding as family and friends work out what has been happening, who is alive. I go back to the news. I type the name of the kibbutz into the wires. Nothing. I read how Hamas invaded “settlements.” They’re not settlements! They’re small, pre-state kibbutzim.

I find out that a friend of a friend was at the music festival and is missing. I’m shaking at work.

I see a colleague who had posted about “decolonization” all over social media over the weekend. They’re laughing with the rest of their team. They’re having a great day. I used to love their podcast, full of hot takes and celeb gossip. Now they’ve evolved into an expert on the Middle East. It doesn’t look like their family is in the middle of it, though.

No one else at work speaks to me about it. I nod my way through conversations about fonts and I stumble home.

I go back the next day. I look at the front page. A photo of Gaza and “violence escalates.” Israelis “dead” but Palestinians “killed.” If they can’t empathize with the Jews now, they never will.

I email the editors. I tell them that my newspaper’s coverage has been upsetting. They tell me that their thoughts are with my family but they stand by the paper’s reporting.

I hear colleagues complaining about the newspaper’s “American readers. They’re always accusing us of antisemitism.” They’re laughing.

I leave work early to go to a vigil outside Downing Street. People quietly weep. Everyone there is Jewish.

I’ve seen on social media that I know people going to a demonstration. Later, I see photos of it: people on lampposts, red flares, Jews hiding inside, the Israeli embassy boxed in. All kinds of people are united in the chant, “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.” In Sydney, they are shouting: “Gas the Jews.”

On Tuesday, I find out that my friend’s friend at the music festival is dead. I remember the day I’d spent with him on the beach in Tel Aviv last month. He’d gotten back from South America and was excited to travel again. He had been gentle and sweet. I don’t understand.

On Wednesday, I go to work again, and the next day, and the next day. Finally, the pictures from the kibbutz come out. I look at all of them. I rewatch the footage. I bear witness. No colleague asks me how I am again that week.

I go to synagogue at the weekend and cry with my community. The rabbi holds space for pain. I say Kaddish for the boy at the music festival I will never talk to again.

Back at work I see someone pointing to a photo of the Israeli flag burning in the newspaper. They laugh, “This is my favorite picture.”

I remember telling my family that when I next went to Israel I’d lie to my colleagues and tell them it was Spain. I’d lie because my colleagues had said to me of Israel: “You gotta go while you still can.”

Now another colleague asks me what I think of Netanyahu. Do I hold him responsible? I explain that I have protested against Netanyahu but the only people responsible for October 7 are Hamas. She keeps asking me about the settlements. I tell her they’re bad but she won’t stop. “Don’t you think Bibi has a lot to do with this?” I ask her if she has family in the region. She does not.

I’m on social media again. Friends share infographics from Jewish Voice for Peace and heavy-hitting images from the Gaza Health Ministry. I don’t disagree with what they’re posting but they said nothing when October 7 happened. I start unfollowing decades-old friends.

In the days that follow, my synagogue receives a bomb threat, my local rail station has photos of missing children ripped off, I hear of more friends of friends who have been killed. I hear of others who are now enlisted. I hear that a synagogue president in America has been stabbed to death and synagogues all over the world have been vandalized and destroyed.

The newspaper I work for is covering the bombardment of Gaza and I watch in horror. I think that Israel must defend itself. Yet when I say this, people will tell me I am justifying the murder of children. They will tell me it is a genocide.

As the events of October 7 draw on collective Jewish memory of pogroms and the Holocaust, the newspaper I work for will dispel that myth, publishing a piece entitled “Israel must stop weaponizing the Holocaust.” Am I wrong to connect our grief today with that of our past?

In the weeks that follow, I will apply for other jobs and speak exclusively to Jewish friends and family. I will hide myself away from the streets of London and the waves of social media.

I will not forget the photos and videos I saw on October 7, but I start to think about how this day will be marked; how my children’s children will take part in a new commemoration, where we will remember not the Romans or the Persians or the Nazis but Hamas, and how we survived.

Intergenerational trauma has been retriggered but now is not the time to dwell on our historical violent oppression. Now is the time to rise up, speak out, and defend our right to exist. Now is not the time for colleagues to dismiss Jewish pain or publish inflammatory op-eds that will spark more violence.

I will keep applying for other jobs.

#Israel #The Guardian #Antisemitism #hamas

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huffle-dork · 3 months

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A very belated birthday gift for Jack and my first piece for septicart party!! Crazy it’s been almost 6 years since I drew the original!! I remember being so bummed out I didn’t make the septicart video I just kept drawing subnautica ego boys- which lead to Juri coming into my dms to talk about ones I hadn’t drawn and by the next month we started writing septnautical :’) how time fucking flies!!!

And! A crazy comparison with the original!

I love redrawing old drawings :3c

#jacksepticeye #septicart #septicartparty #huffleart #subnautica #septnautical #sea emperor Jack #sea emperor leviathan #happy birthday Jack!!#he saw on Twitter already I’m so happy!! :’D #hey hey 2018 me- this drawing? leads to amazing fucking things #hang in there girlie things are gonna be amazing <3

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aestheticaltcow · 15 days

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Healing

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

This one went in a different direction than originally planned ngl. There isn't a lot of smut but I like how I ended it...

The final part of the Six Month universe Part 1 - Six Months Part 2 - The Night When It Went Wrong Part 3 - The Aftermath Part 4 - Two Months

MDNI 18+

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hide the pleasure you felt when Carmy finally erupted inside of you. Carmy’s whimpered moans filled your ear as he nipped at your jaw the way he knew you loved. You sighed as you let your fingers run down Carmy’s toned back.

When Carmy pulled out, you felt his ejaculation ooze out of you, and regret washed over you. You should have just walked down the hall to your room and pretended you never saw him jacking off with your underwear while he watched a video of the two of you hooking up. You watched him lay next to you and catch his breath before rolling on his side to face you. You reluctantly copied the move and stared at him.

Carmy gently pushed your bangs away from your face before planting his hand on your cheek. You bit your lip, trying to hide the soft smile on your face. He grinned and took a shallow breath before admitting, “I’m going to work my ass off every day for the rest of my life to prove how sorry I am.”

You nodded in response and moved closer to him. Carmy’s hand left your face, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he rolled onto his back. “I love you, baby,” he mumbled into your shoulder as he snuggled you as closely as humanly possible. You nervously swallowed, “Carmy… I don’t think I’m there yet…” you felt his body shift below you. “O-okay.” he stuttered, “Can-n you lay with me a little longer?”

“Of course, Carm.”

“Mia, I need you to eat your breakfast,” you sternly explained as Mia threw pieces of egg on the floor. “Baby girl, come on.” You sighed as you crouched in front of her high chair before taking the fork from her hand. She wiggled, trying to get away from you as you stabbed the sliced banana in front of her. “Mia, let’s have a good morning that starts with a good breakfast.”

“Are you trying to bargain with our ten-month-old?” Carmy laughed as he stood in the kitchen doorway. You rolled your eyes and stood up, “You try. She’s bein’ so fussy this morning.” Carmy shook his head and went up to her. Mia’s hands immediately started grabbing in his direction, “I swear, I carried you for nine months. 22 hours of labor, and a c-section, only for you to love him more than me… you’re lucky you’re cute.” you playfully teased Mia before planting a kiss on her chubby cheek. Her giggles lit up the room as Carmy pulled a chair beside her, “Okay, princess, let’s eat.”

As you ate your breakfast, you watched Carmy feed Mia. Something was different about him. You leaned back against the counter and really looked at him. He wore one of his slightly too-tight T-shirts and a pair of black jeans with the same gold chain he’d worn every day. As you scanned his body, you saw it: He was wearing his wedding ring. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him wear it. Something about it made you feel uneasy.

“Hey, Carmy… when you get home tonight, do you think we can talk about some stuff?” you asked as you adjusted Mia on your hip. Carmy looked at you like a deer in the headlights and hesitantly nodded as he picked up his backpack from the ground. “It’s nothing bad… just about last night and some other stuff,” you explained, hoping to alleviate some of his anxiety. Carmy nodded again and slung his bag over his shoulder. He stepped forward and kissed Mia’s head before playfully punching your arm, “Bye, girls…” he grinned before ducking out of the house for the day.

Carmy drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel of his car as he sat in traffic on his way to work. What did you want to talk about? Last night was everything he wanted. The two of you had sex for the first time in almost a year, the two of you slept in the same bed for the first time in months, and for a minute, Carmy had everything he’d wanted. He should have deleted Selena’s number when he got in the car that day. You were going to leave him; that’s what it had to be.

Throughout the day, Carmy was distracted. He was thinking about the conversation the two of you were having that night. He should prepare a speech. Should he buy you flowers? If he left early, he could stop at your favorite bakery and pick you up a sweet treat. Prep, family, and dinner service were a blur. He heard people talking to him, but none of what they said made sense; it was like he was back in school. Everything was going in one ear and out the other. He just needed to get home.

When Carmy walked into the house that night, he felt his heart rate accelerate. He quietly pushed his jacket off and stepped out of his shoes before walking back to your bedroom. You sat in bed doing something on your computer. Carmy sighed before making his presence known. He saw you sitting in the middle of the bed with your hair wrapped up in a microfiber towel, your face shiny from skin care products, and your glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. “Hey baby.” he weakly grinned as he approached the bed. You grinned at him and closed your computer, “Hey Carm.”

“Still wanna talk?” Carmy asked as he shoved his hands into his pant pockets. You patted the mattress beside you and watched as Carmy pulled his hands from his pocket and sat on the edge of the mattress. “Carmy, I want-” You were cut off by Carmy standing up and pacing the space between the bed and closet door. He pushed his hands through his hair, took a deep breath, and looked at you with his fingers still tangled in his hair. “Baby. You can’t leave me. I know I fucked up, but please give me a second chance-”

“Carmy! I wanna go to couple’s counseling.”

“I understand that you didn’t have sex with that grocery store whore, but you went to her house with the intention to. And that’s what I’m hung up on.” you calmly explained as you watched Carmy sit back on the ugly cranberry couch in the therapist's office. The two of you had been going to therapy for a little over a month at this point, and while a dialogue was created, he just didn’t understand why you couldn’t move past it.

“How does that make you feel, Carmen?” the therapist questioned as they fidgetted with a pen.

“I’m confused. You kicked me out for like two months, contemplated divorcing me, and then you let me come home and sleep with me, but you’re still ‘not there’ when I tell you I love you. We’re spending a lot of time together as a family, but when I try to hang out with just you- you get weird. Like last night, I sat next to you on the couch and you got up because you ‘had to check on a rendering video’; then you didn’t come back. You act like nothings wrong around Mia or family, but when we’re alone, it’s like you’re in a different universe. Look, I know I fucked up. I just want to know what I need to do to make it right between us. I get we can’t go back to exactly what we had, but do you even like me anymore?” Carmy looked at you while on the verge of tears.

“Y/N, is there anything you want to say?”

“Carmy, I care about you so much and value our relationship, but right now, I’m just frustrated. I would never cheat on you, and the only reason you didn’t cheat on me was because you ‘couldn’t get hard’... I just- I don’t know what I need from you right now. I really appreciate you agreeing to this, and you’re a wonderful father, but I just don’t know.” you explained as you picked at the hole in your jeans.

Carmy opened the passenger’s door for you, and you quickly slipped into his car. He walked around and slipped in the driver’s seat, “We should start planning Mia’s birthday party.” you brought up as he turned on the car. Carmy nodded in agreement as you grabbed your phone from your purse, “I have a couple of Pinterest boards for party inspo. Since she’s not gonna remember it, we don’t have to go all out, but I like the idea of doing ‘My Berry First’ birthday party since my baby shower was also kinda fruity themed-”

“You don’t like me anymore.” Carmy spat, cutting you off midsentence. “What?” Surprised by his statement, you put your phone down and looked at him. He sighed and pulled over into a 7/11 parking lot. You watched as he tilted his head back and stared at the car's roof before slowly blinking. “Baby. Do you like me? Do you actually want to spend time with me? The only thing we do together anymore is go to couples counseling. You never want to go out to dinner or run errands together- the only time I fuckin’ see you is when we’re doing something with Mia. You say you love me and want to reconcile, but you don’t like me.” Carmy rubbed the back of his neck before glancing in your direction.

You’d turned in your seat, bringing your left leg up to the seat awkwardly sitting on it, “Carmen… I just- I don’t know. I like you, and I love our family, but it’s just hard.” you began to explain. “Listen, Carmen, I don’t want to divorce you. There’s just this tension- I don’t know how to explain it to you. I look at you and see the man I’ve been with for, like, what, seven years? But then I start thinking about you and that fucking whore. I think about how you didn’t tell her you were married. I think about her kissing you and touching you- it makes me wanna fuckin’ puke.”

You took a deep breath before continuing, “Carmy, I like you. I’m just- not there yet….”

“Hey, I’m gonna go to bed,” you said, poking your head into the living room. Carmy nodded without looking up at you, “Night.” he said as he flipped to a different channel on the TV. You stood against the doorway and watched as he stared at the screen lifelessly. With a sigh, you walked into the living room and stood beside Carmy. He was unphased; you needed to up the antics. You stepped closer and swiftly straddled Carmy’s hips, which thankfully got his attention. Carmy swallowed when you put a hand on his collarbone, “Hey.” you halfheartedly grinned.

Carmy took swallow breaths as he stared up at you. He allowed himself to rest his palms on your hips before fanning his fingers out to grab the fat of your ass, “I’m not really in the mood, baby.”

You rolled your eyes and playfully hit him, “I swear Carmy… I like you. If I didn’t, I woulda never come up to you at that bar. I wouldn’t have agreed to be exclusive. I wouldn’t have moved into that shitty apartment you had. I wouldn’t have given up that job opportunity in California. I wouldn’t have married you or had your baby. I like you as a person, partner, father to my child…. Let’s spend some time together.”

You rubbed your lips together after applying a layer of pink-tinted lip oil. Your hair and makeup were as good as it was going to get. After slipping on a red barely long enough to cover your butt dress and a pair of black platform boots, you stared at yourself in the mirror. You smoothed down the bottom of your dress and grabbed a slightly oversized light-wash denim jacket along with your bag, “Let’s fuckin go.” you said as you walked out of the bedroom.

Carmy was in the kitchen with Mia on his hip. She had a fist full of his tank top in one hand and one of her stuffed animals in the other. When he heard the dryer go off, Carmy gently put her down, “Race ya?” he asked, hoping to tire her out enough for Donna to keep up with her. Mia plopped on the floor and stared up at him, disinterested in doing anything to make his morning easier. Carmy laughed and walked to the laundry room just off the kitchen. He grabbed a short-sleeved button-up shirt and slipped it on before throwing the rest of the clean clothes in a laundry basket. He felt nervous. It was silly, though- it’s not like he’d never had a date with you. He took a deep breath and returned to the kitchen to see Mia playing with Tupperware; he shook his head and swiftly scooped her off the floor. Mia dropped the container on the floor and grabbed at Carmy’s ear.

“You look pretty,” Carmy said as you sat in the passenger’s seat of his car after strapping Mia into her car seat. You smiled and pushed your bangs back, “You noticed…” you teased. Carmy chuckled as started backing out of the driveway. He put his right hand against your seat as he looked over his shoulder. You held your breath when you noticed his jugular bulge from his neck.

You were looking out the window when you felt Carmy reach over to your lap, you glance down to see him intertwine his fingers with yours. A blush came to your cheeks as he squeezed your hand softly, you bit your lip and rubbed your index finger between his knuckles.

Dropping Mia off at Donna’s always made you nervous; she’d changed since Natalie had started having kids, but you were haunted by her drunken rants criticizing Carmy for being with you and how you must have only been after his money. You laughed to yourself as you watched Carmy walk Mia into the house. She grabbed in your direction, her adorable little smile shining past the shield of her pacifier. You waved back before Carmy entered the house.

He came back to the car and pulled his phone out of his pocket to connect to the car’s bluetooth, “Where are we going on our date afternoon?” you asked as you nudged his shoulder. Carmy grinned at his phone as he scrolled through his Spotify playlist looking for a song to play, “If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise.” he hit play on his phone and pulled away from the curb.

A couple of donuts and a walk through the park led you and Carmy to a secluded bench by a pond. “Have we brought Mia here?” you asked, unsure of the familiarity of your surroundings. Carmy nodded, “Sorta—you were pregnant with her.”

You smiled and scooted closer to him, snaking an arm around his waist. Carmy smiled and threw an arm over your shoulders. “It’s weird. We have a one-year-old. It feels like I was pregnant with her yesterday.”

“It is. If you could change anything—aside from the obvious—what would you pick?” Carmy asked into your hair as he kissed the top of your head. You thought momentarily, “Well, besides the obvious, I don’t think I’d change anything. We have a pretty cool kid.”

Carmy rubbed your bicep as the two of you watched ducks swim in the pond. Carmy brought his free hand to your chin, pushed it up with his index finger, and brought his lips down to yours. Before the two of you could kiss, he softly whispered, “Can I kiss you, baby?”

Instead of answering, you pressed your lips to his. He kissed back immediately and pulled you closer to him. You cupped his face in your hands as Carmy pulled you onto his lap; your stomach fluttered as Carmy’s grip tightened. As you separated your lips to allow your tongue to slip into Carmy’s mouth, you felt his phone vibrate against your hip. Carmy wanted to ignore the call and risk getting caught for indecent exposure, but when you reluctantly pulled away, he fished his phone out of his pocket and saw Donna’s name flashing across the screen. “Looks like Grandma Donna is at her Mia limit.” he chuckled and answered to have his assumptions confirmed by an overwhelmed Donna and a crying Mia in the background.

You got up from Carmy’s lap and smoothed down the back of your dress. He swallowed when he saw a peak of your butt cheek as you stood up. “We’re on our way, Ma.” he quickly said into the phone, cutting Donna off mid-sentence before hanging up.

“We can pick up where we left off later,” you say, biting your lip. Taking Carmy’s hand in yours, you trek back to the car and retrieve an overstimulated Mia from Grandma Donna’s house. By the time the two of you had gotten her to calm down and eat, the mood was gone, but Carmy had promised to make it up to you the following weekend.

“Dam, I thought the view from behind was good, but it’s even better up here.” some Andrew Tate-looking man greeted you. You internally cringed as you noticed how he looked at you like a piece of meat. You rolled your eyes and waited for the bartender to finish the drinks you’d ordered. “Can’t even get a hello?” the man questioned you, stepping forward. You scoffed, “I don’t owe you shit- maybe my husband’ll say hello to you.”

“I don’t see a husband anywhere. Don’t play so hard to get a sexy girl. Why don’t you come back to my booth?” His slimy offer disgusted you. You shook your head and slipped the bartender a $20 before taking your drinks back to the small window table you and Carmy had been sitting at. Carmy was outside on the phone dealing with some issue down at the restaurant; he shot you an apologetic smile.

While Carmy was wrapping up his phone call, the man from the bar strode up to the table to convince you to go back to his booth. You weren’t having any of it. “Where’s that husband of yours?” he questioned, sitting where Carmy had been moments prior. You gestured outside; Carmy had his back to the window as he listened to Richie’s nonsensical problem.

“That guy? The one on the phone who’s not even looking at you? I don’t believe you, sweetheart.” he purred as he relaxed into the chair opposite of you. You rolled your eyes and held your left hand up, you wiggled your ring finger; “Say that to the ring on my finger.”

“Come on, baby girl. I just bought a bottle of 925 Diamante Ley. Do one shot with me, and then you can decide if you want to come back to your ‘husband’ or not.” as he reached out to touch your bicep, Carmy cleared his throat. You looked up at him, immediately relieved. The guy looked over his shoulder, and Carmy glared at him, “Get a fuckin’ clue asshole. This is my wife and the mother of my child. Fuck off before I need to make you fuck off.”

The man looked Carmy up and down before shifting his attention back to you, “Oh hell fuckin’ no. Don’t need that nasty stretched out-” he was cut off by Carmy shoving the guy out of his chair. “Don’t fuckin’ dare finish that dam sentence. She’s a fuckin’ angel, and you should even be allowed in the same room as her.” Carmy spat as the guy stumbled back to his feet. “Yeah, whatever, man- she’s not even that hot.” he scoffed as he pushed past Carmy. You reached out to grab Carmy’s hand as the man walked out of earshot, “He’s not worth it, Carm.” you spoke softly as you squeezed his hand in yours, “Can we just get out of here?”

Carmy looked back at you, nodded, and pulled you to his side. As the two of you walked out of the bar, you couldn’t help but notice the scuzzball trying to get another table of girls to come back to his booth. You rolled your eyes and wrapped an arm around Carmy’s waist as he directed the two of you back to the car, “Fuck that dude.” Carmy mumbled as he closed your door after you’d gotten into the passenger’s side.

“You know your pussy isn’t ‘stretched out’ or ‘nasty’ right?” Carmy asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over the two of you on the drive home. You nodded, “I know Carmy.”

When Carmy parked in the driveway, he turned his head to look at you. He put a hand on your thigh and squeezed gently. You placed your hand on his and sighed softly before asking, “Do you wanna take a shower with me?”

Carmy laughed, “Baby, if I ever say no to that question, have me committed.” You rolled your eyes and opened the car door. As you walked to the front door, Carmy was hot on your heels. Before you could open the door, Carmy wrapped his arms around your waist. You put your head back against his shoulder, “Pay the sitter… I’ll start the shower.”

Carmy nodded and kissed your cheek before dropping his arms, allowing you to open the front door. You quickly walked down the hall, quickly poking your head into Mia’s bedroom before heading back into the master bedroom. Carmy stared at your ass as you walked away. He sucked in a breath and went into the kitchen to see the babysitter sitting at the kitchen island reading out of a beat-up history book, “Hi, Mr.Berzatto. Mia was a little fussy, but I got her down.” she began to explain. Carmy nodded, not really absorbing anything she’d said. He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out to Venmo her for the night. “Thanks, kid- Y/N or I’ll call you next time we need you.”

You stood in the bathroom in your underwear, waiting for the shower to heat up and for Carmy to join you. Carmy locked the front door and grabbed the baby monitor from the kitchen counter before barreling down the hallway. When he got to the door to the master bedroom, he took a breath and slowed down so he wouldn’t come off as overly desperate. Walking into the bedroom, he put the baby monitor on your dresser before kicking his shoes off and stripping to his underwear. As he walked to the askew bathroom door, he ran his tongue over his teeth when he noticed you looking at your reflection in the mirror. He noticed you pulling at the skin on your stomach with a frown. Carmy huffed and softly opened the door more. You looked over at him as he stepped further into the bathroom. His hands found your hips and lifted you onto the counter, “So fuckin’ sexy, baby…” Carmy muttered as his lips crashed onto yours. You were taken by surprise but allowed Carmy to wedge himself between your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Carm- showers on…” you manage to get out after pushing his chest away from you. Begrudgingly, he stepped away and pulled the shower curtain open. “Oh god, you’re trying to boil us alive.” Carmy laughed as he pulled his hand away from the water. You rolled your eyes before hopping off the counter. After removing your bra and underwear you stepped into the shower. Carmy pushed his boxers down and joined you after turning the heat down.

“Can you sleep in here Carmy?” Carmy’s heart stopped as the words left your mouth. He nodded softly trying his hardest to not come off as desperate. You saw through it immediately and playfully nudged his shoulder as you walked past him into the bedroom. Carmy looked in the mirror and pushed his wet hair back with his hands, a goofy grin was plastered on his face at the realization that he’d managed to get back on your good side.

When Carmy joined you in bed you immediately scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I missed this…” you mumbled into his chest as you snuggled closer to him. Carmy chuckled and kissed the top of your head.

“I missed this more, baby,” he responded as he pulled you onto his hips. “I love you. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but hurting you was the worst,” he said as he held you. “I’m never going to hurt you like that again.”

You nodded and pushed yourself up into a sitting position. Staring down at him, you saw the Carmy you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. “You’re not gonna get a third chance, Berzatto. Fuck up again. I’m cutting your dick off.” you threatened, much to his amusement. He shook his head, chuckling, “I won’t need a third chance, baby.”

“Good. I love you, Carmen. Don’t make me look like a fool again.”

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto one shot #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmy smut #carmy berzatto smut #the bear fic #the bear fan fiction

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punkitt-is-here · 9 months

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How can I cultivate the same, "just keeping making stuff all the time" kind of energy you have? It's very impressive and something I wish I could do!

well, theres a couple reasons i think! one is that i just found ways to be satisfied with small amounts of work. its in part because of my ADHD, but my parents were always trying new things (motorcycles, leatherwork, acrylic paint, collage art, photography, video editing) so that definitely rubbed off on me; i had a great example of people just wanting to try stuff. i keep making stuff all the time because i love trying out new things; you don't have to be an expert to try something new! you just have to have a desire for it! wanna make a zine? google it! wanna write a comic? give it a shot! wanna get into woodworking? buy a carving knife and find a stick or something! i think theres plenty of ways to find entry points into interesting stuff and you gotta let yourself be okay with making shit that sucks just because its fun. which leads me to my second point!!

im okay with being dogshit at stuff! i try new things, i kind of suck at them, and i think it's either 1. cool that i made it this far or 2. kinda funny that this is what its like at the moment. i know that sucking is never permanent, everything can be improved with time, and rarely does anyone ever magically get good at something first try. i think of myself as a talented artist, but its over the course of 2+ decades of drawing; im always improving, and no matter what im going to find things i want to get better at, so why fault myself now for not being perfect? a couple of months ago i really wanted to try woodcarving, so i made spoon with my dad. did it turn out great? not really! you cant even use it as a spoon! but im glad i tried it, it was fun, i had a great time with my dad, and now i know a little bit more going in next time. the idea that you have to be perfect or make tangible progress every single time you try something new is a recipe for burnout. i promise you, it doesnt matter if something doesn't come out like God's Gift to Humanity! Did you have fun? did you learn something? are you satisfied in some small part? good!

(pictured: tha spoon)

last, im just really easy to please myself! I'll make a doodle or implement an idle animation in my game or color a piece and go "wow! thats so cool i did that :)" and it really is just a matter of realizing that its fucking COOL to create stuff, no matter how small! whatever you made didn't exist before you, especially in your own unique way, and now it does! doesn't that rule?! i'm obsessed with it! even if its just a stick figure, its a stick figure you made, and it wasn't there before. thats fucking awesome!!! art is so cool!!!! i think that being happy with small goals and victories is a great way of trying out new things and showing off cool stuff u made, no matter what skill level. :) this turned into a whole big thing, but i hope this helps! tl;dr is try things if they seem fun, be okay with not being good at them, and find stuff about it that makes you happy or satisfied!

#petegrammarman #my posts #asks #advice

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authorhjk1 · 8 months

Text

Water gymnastics

Blackpink's Lisa X Male Reader

And that's how this happened."

The woman in front of you laughs as she covers her mouth with her hand.

"You didn't ask him to do anything?"

You shake your head, before reaching for the glass of wine.

The brunette giggles as she puts another piece of the cake into her mouth. You realized that she started to eat smaller and smaller bites. Maybe because it tastes so good.

"What flavor is that, by the way?"

"You wanna try?"

She uses her fork to separate another piece from the cake, before moving it towards you. It looks like she wants to feed you. You hesitate for a moment, knowing that this would look kinda weird. Especially, if someone would take a picture. Her fans wouldn't appreciate it and neither would Ahin.

You lean forward quickly, hoping that no one saw it. She gives you a big smile as you chew the chocolate cake, before swallowing it.

"Chocolate."

She nods excitedly before eating another piece herself.

"I honestly don't get, how you can eat waffles and stuff for supper and cake as dessert afterwards."

The brunette shrugs her shoulders as she smiles.

"I like sweet things."

She bites her fork and looks at you a second too long.

Once you finish your own piece of cake, you lean back in your chair, glancing at the hotel lobby, before focusing back on her again.

"Originally, I planned for all four of you to be here, but your company didn't want to hear that. I don't know why, but it might have been more profitable."

"That's because they have other schedules as well. And the company is sometimes more than just annoying."

You chuckle at her last comment, glad that you are your own boss.

"Have you been in Paris before?"

Nodding, you remember what happened the last time you were here.

"I did. I found a place that serves delicious tteokbokki."

"Wow. Your pronunciation is really good."

"That's because I speak Korean."

"Really?"

She eyes you with a surprised look on her face. Up until now, the two of you spoke English.

"I moved to an area around Seoul about two months ago."

"We could have met way sooner then."

She laughs as she playfully slaps your hand, which is resting next to your plate, across the table.

"Well, turns out I need to open a restaurant to be able to meet you."

The brunette chuckles as she shakes her head, finally chewing on her last piece of cake. You pick up your phone, which starts to vibrate on the wooden surface next to your hand. A message from Ahin appears on the lock screen.

"I'm gonna try on the clothes which I'm gonna wear tomorrow. Help me pick something? 😉😘"

You glance at the brunette, who is sipping her wine.

"I have something coming up. Unfortunately."

You gesture with your phone in your hand.

"Since the two of us are staying here, I guess I will see you today or tomorrow again. Maybe for breakfast."

The Thai girl's smile drops a little, but she nods her head.

"Breakfast with you sounds great."

Getting up, you button your jacket, before walking off. Going past her chair, you lightly place your hand on her naked shoulder.

"Have a good night."

"You as well."

Not turning around, you hear sounds, which indicate that she is watching after you as you walk out of the luxurious restaurant and towards the elevator. Pressing the button for the seventh floor, you video call your girlfriend.

As the doors open, she picks up. The pink haired woman has already placed her phone on the counter of her kitchen, showing her entire living room. You don't know what is keeping the phone up right, but you see all kinds of clothing sprinkled throughout the room.

Ahin is standing in the center. You don't even look up as the doors close again as you see her wave at you. Only wearing a black lacey bra and matching panties.

"Is this so difficult that you need my help?"

You ask in a mocking tone, before looking around, gladly realizing you are on your own.

"Well,"

Ahin places her hands on her hips, glaring at you.

"First of all, I'm doing this to look good. Which means, you have to help me, because I value your opinion the most."

Your girlfriend uses her thumb to slowly let her right bra strap slide off her shoulder.

"Second of all, I'm sure this will be very beneficial for the both of us."

Smiling, you walk out of the elevator, heading towards your room.

"I don't think this is how it works."

You sigh as you slowly stroke yourself, watching Ahin.

"What do you mean?"

She asks with an innocent look on her face.

"Don't you have to wear clothing to see if your accessories match it?"

Ahin puts on the second one of her long sparkling earrings, before putting her hair behind her ear. It's the only thing she is wearing.

"Are you actually complaining right now?"

"Not at all."

You grin as you keep your hand on your shaft. Usually you like to be a little rougher, even with yourself. But right now, this seems just as enjoyable.

Ahin uses both her hands to put her long pink hair behind her back gracefully. One of her fingers traces along her collarbone afterwards.

"Would you like anything on here?"

"You are not talking about a necklace, are you?"

She bites her lip seductively, trying to make you cum faster.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Now she plays coy as she walks over to the counter, where the phone is standing on.

"What kind do you like?"

She shows you a silver necklace, which matches her earrings.

You nod as you honestly don't focus much on her necklace. The way she is slightly leaning over the counter makes her chest look bigger.

"Or maybe this one? I would look hot in this. Don't you think?"

You tear your eyes away from her naked body to see the necklace in her hand. Or rather her choker. She puts it on, before letting her arms rest at her sides.

It's a black piece with small silver stripes in it. At the front a word in silver letters catches your eyes.

"Cumslut"

"I don't think this would be very appropriate."

You stroke yourself a little faster as you see Ahin like this. Naked. Only wearing her earrings and that small piece of fabric around her throat.

"But you seem to love it."

She winks at you.

"I won't wear it tomorrow evening. I don't know about tomorrow night though."

You chuckle as you see her start to pose a little. Her right hand rests on her waist, while she bites her finger on her left hand. She makes sure you have a clean view at her throat.

"Do you have anything else like this?"

Ahin's eyes sparkle with amusement.

"You would be surprised."

"How come?"

"Well, in case you wouldn't accept my confession, I was prepared to seduce you until you would give in."

"Maybe I should have waited a little longer then."

She bites her lip.

"I have so much stuff. I will make sure you won't regret your decision."

You are about to answer, when another message blocks your view. Groaning in annoyance, you read it. It's important, unfortunately.

"Ahin."

You sigh as you swipe the message away.

She pouts already, knowing what you are about to say.

"This is important. It's about tomorrow."

"You should pay more attention to me, you know?"

"I just spend twenty minutes watching you try on clothes."

"I think we both know you did more than watching."

"Ahin. I have to go now."

She rolls her eyes, before looking at you excitedly.

"Give me a second!"

She scurries out of view, probably towards her bedroom. She comes back a moment later, hiding something in her fist.

"Got something for you."

She wiggles her eyebrows playfully, before opening her hand. You sigh as you see the pink item.

"You might be overestimating my phone. I doubt, it would reach you from here."

Ahin shakes her head as she puts the small vibrator on the counter.

"I have the original remote, you know? I don't need you to get me off on the plane."

She sticks her tongue out as if she won this fight.

"How come you are so horny all the time?"

Ahin points at her choker, raising an eyebrow. No words needed.

Another message pops up.

As you see your phone's screen light up, you swim towards the edge of the pool. Drying your head with a towel, you answer the call.

After you got two messages earlier, you had to go the restaurant for some final decisions for the opening. Once you got back, you decided to cool off by taking a swim, since Ahin would be asleep by now. The time difference sucks.

Luckily, this call only takes a couple of minutes. As you hang up, you see someone entering the pool area.

The brunette is still wearing the yellow dress she wore at dinner.

"Lisa."

You greet her, when she sees you in the pool.

"Hi! Are you swimming as well?"

You nod, before letting go off the edge.

Pushing yourself off the wall, you watch Lisa walking towards the pool. Her skin is darker than Ahin's due to the sun. As you take in her body, you remember what your girlfriend did to you earlier.

Lisa sits down in one of the chairs, watching you in the pool.

"Are you not coming inside?"

"Is it cold?"

You shake your head as you swim a little closer.

"Maybe later. I had a drink at the bar."

You chuckle as you reach the edge of the pool once more, only two steps away from your new model.

"I think I have something to make you sober."

Before Lisa can reply anything, you are already moving. Drops of water hit her skin as you splash her with it playfully. It's not much, but there are now dark spots on her dress.

"Yah!"

She chuckles and glares at you at the same time.

"Now, I'm definitely not going in."

You rest your forearms on the edge and you catch Lisa staring at them. You were surprised at first, when Ahin complemented you on your forearms, when you rolled up your sleeves once. It looks like she isn't the only one, who likes them.

You tap the tiles with a finger, while looking at Lisa.

"If you don't want to get hit again, you have to join me."

She leans back in her chair, a cocky grin on her face.

"Make me."

"Your decision."

You pull yourself up, lifting your body out of the water and the pool.

Lisa can't help but stare as she watches you. Working out and sleeping with as many Korean stars as possible marks your body. She bites her lips as the muscles in your arms move. Her eyes fall onto your chest and then your abs as you leave the pool. The water glistens on your skin and partially drops down your body.

Looking towards her, you catch Lisa staring.

"Wanna take a picture?"

Her cheeks turn the deepest of red as she looks away. You walk over, standing in front of her.

"Take off your dress."

Lisa looks at you with wide eyes.

"W-What?"

"You don't want it to get wet, do you?"

She shakes her head hesitantly.

"Or do you plan on walking through the hotel in a drenched dress?"

Shaking her head once more, the brunette slowly stands up.

"Give me a second."

You don't actually know if she is wearing her swimsuit, or anything for that matter, underneath. Not wanting to look like a creep, you turn around. Hands folded behind your back, you look through the windows on the other side of the pool.

You hear her dress drop. Before you can react, you hear Lisa's shout.

"Yah!"

Something hits you in the back. Surprised, you stumble forward. That something, probably Lisa herself, pushes you further. Falling over the edge of the pool, your instincts take over. You reach behind you blindly, trying to hold onto anything. It feels like you caught her wrist. You fall face first into the water.

Collecting yourself, you look around, still underwater. You see Lisa's wide eyes as you keep holding her.

Wanting to have your revenge, you grab both of her hands with one of yours, before swimming upwards. The pool isn't deep. Maybe twice as deep as Lisa is tall.

When you break through the water, you pull her with you.

"Hey!"

She coughs as you look at her. The yellow dress is gone and reveals what Lisa was wearing underneath. A white bikini with different patterns on it.

"Who is staring now?"

She chuckles as you look into her eyes. Her dark hair is all wet, partially sticking to her skin.

"Just wondering how I should take revenge."

Before she can react, you pull Lisa towards you. The water makes both of your movements slower, but you manage to hold onto her hands. You pick her up bridal style. One hand reaching around her back, still holding hers, while the other grabs her thighs from underneath.

Her wide eyes are only millimeters away. Her nose almost touches yours. You catch Lisa glancing at your lips, before you lift her out of the water. Her body drips like a waterfall.

"Have nice flight."

Lisa's mouth opens wide to protest, but you already throw her up. She is not very heavy, so you can easily do it. You watch her hang in the air for a second as if time has stopped for a moment. Turning away, to not get hit in the face again, you hear Lisa hit the water. A wave washes over your body as she lands right next to you.

You turn around, the water slowing down your movements once more. She jumps out of the water, shaking her head.

"You! I could-!"

She raises her hand, but you jump her again. Quite literally this time. You push her against the edge of the pool. Lisa feels the cold tiles against her shoulders as you press yourself against her. The two of you stand as close as before.

"You could what?"

You tilt your head slightly.

"Shut up."

Lisa sneaks her arms around your nape and leans forward. Your lips touch and you can taste some of the water on her lips. You and Lisa make out in the pool. The water almost reaches her chest, while barely half of your body is getting wet.

You hold the back of her head with one hand, the other holds onto the edge as you slightly lean against it. This way, you can kiss Lisa comfortably, without having to pick her up.

The fierce Thai girl keeps kissing you, before she finally pushes you away, her hand still on your chest.

"I don't think my boss meant this when he said " do your best, Lisa "."

A sly grin plays on her lips.

You take her hand off your bare chest and pull her towards you again.

"Time to live up to his words."

Lisa bites her lower lip, before you capture it with your own pair once more.

"Fuck, you are hot."

She whispers into your mouth.

You break the kiss and reach underwater to grab her thighs. Lifting her petite body out of the water, you hold Lisa on your arms. Tasting the water on her toned stomach, you kiss her skin.

The brunette holds onto your hair. You move your lips as if you are running through an imaginary labyrinth on her abs. Occasionally using your tongue, you lick her belly button, making her giggle slightly.

"That tickles."

One of her hands is placed on your back. Her pink nails scratching you slightly, whenever you make her breath hitch.

Lowering her a little, you are now face to face with Lisa's bikini top.

"I think you are wearing too much clothes."

She reaches behind her to undo the strings, which hold it together and in place, before throwing it behind her. You palm her small mounds, admiring them for a moment, before leaning forward.

Yet again, you make your way all over her body. And once more, Lisa's nails find your skin. She isn't scratching hard, so it doesn't hurt, but it makes you want to please her harder. You take one of her nipples into your mouth, sucking on it, playing with it, before you focus on the other one. Switching again and again, you feast on Lisa's chest and the rest of her body as she squirms in your arms, never letting the water rest.

You stop as the lights suddenly turn off.

"What happened?"

You laugh at Lisa's slightly scared tone.

"After 12 pm, they turn off the lights in this room. We can turn them on later with the light switch."

The only lights which illuminate the pool now, are the sparkling lights from outside the windows. The city of Paris makes you see the silhouette of Lisa's body.

You resume your work on her tits, occasionally moving a little lower to pay attention to her stomach.

"Fuck, yes."

Lisa begins to slowly grind against you. Her hips are just above yours. You lower her a little further, which makes her moan as she feels your dick inside your trunks. Taking the new position as an opportunity, you dive into her neck. You kiss more and more of her skin as she starts to grind against you faster and faster.

You feel one of her hands reach downwards to cup your crotch.

"You feel so big."

Kissing her harder in response makes her moan again.

"Let me suck your cock."

That's a demand you can't say no to.

Slowly lowering Lisa's body into the water, you feel her slide out of your grip. You move back a little to sit on the upper half of the steps, which lead into the pool and which the two of you ignored earlier. Before you are able to sit probably, you can already feel her greedy hands on your waistband.

In a blink, your trunks are off and you feel Lisa's fingertips on your cock. The water adds a new sensation to it.

"Let me get out of the water."

You try to move upwards since you figure Lisa wouldn't love the idea of sucking your cock underwater.

Suddenly the door opens and you hear a man's voice.

"Mr. (L/n)? Your drink?"

He sounds a little confused and you remember that you ordered something before you came here.

You are about to say something, when you realize that you are holding Lisa's head under the water. Her hands are resting on your thighs. Then you feel her lips on your tip.

The man reaches for the light switch. That's the only thing you can see in the dark.

"Don't!"

You almost curse as you feel Lisa's lips move further down.

"I like it like this."

"Sure, sir."

You can hear the uncertainty in his voice. But you can't risk being caught. This is against the law in France anyways. You are in a public place. There is just no one else here at the moment.

"Can you just put the bottle on the table over there?"

"Of course, sir."

You can feel Lisa struggling for air. Just as the man from the staff turns around, you pull her head up. She gasps for air quietly. You can barely see her wide eyes.

Looking behind you again, you see the man turning around. Once more, you shove Lisa's head underwater. You hiss through your teeth as you feel her warm mouth around your cock.

"Anything else, sir?"

"No thanks."

You are about to scream at him to get out. Lisa's tongue flicks against your tip.

"Have a pleasant night, sir."

"You too."

The brunette gives your tip a small bite. It barely hurts, but jolts of pleasure rush up your spine.

You see the man walk through the door. Lisa taps your thighs again. As soon as the door closes, you pull her up.

"Holy fuck!"

She gasps as she recovers from her involuntary diving lesson.

"Now, get up."

She motions for you to move and you climb two more steps. The water is only reaching your knees now.

Lisa leans forward. And once again, you feel her lips on your cock. You can barely see her head, bobbing up and down as she sucks you off.

"Fuck."

You reach forward to hold her hair back. One of her hands is holding onto the base of your cock, while the other rests on your thigh. Lisa keeps her rhythm as she gives you head. Her tongue flicks against your shaft occasionally, before she takes more of you into her mouth.

At one point, you realize you have already adapted to her rhythm. You start to guide her head as you feel Lisa giving up control. Her warm mouth hugs your cock as her lips glide along its length.

Both of her hands are now resting on your thighs as you slowly start to fuck her face. Lisa doesn't move, her mouth a wet sleeve for your cock. You make her take more and more, until you hear her gagging.

When you let go of her, Lisa gets off your dick.

"I wanna fuck you."

She states, before climbing on top of you. Since she now knows, you might get caught, Lisa wants to do this quick.

You look at her in surprise as you feel her straddle you.

"I need it."

She kisses you once more as she reaches down, holding your cock in her hand. You hear her whimper as you begin to penetrate her and you realize that it's not her pussy.

"Lisa, what-"

She shuts you up with another kiss.

"This is my tightest hole. Don't you like it?"

You honestly can't complain as she sinks herself onto your cock.

"Fuck!"

She moans loudly as you enter her further.

Lisa does feel tight, but you realize that she has done this before. Her ass easily adjusts to your cock, making it less painful for her. You feel the ring of her muscles glide along the length of your shaft. The pleasure, which starts to build in your groin is already becoming unbearable. You reach for something, anything, to let it out. Your fingers close around Lisa's throat as you find it. You weren't searching for it, but the way the brunette moans, signals that you are doing the right thing.

She starts to slowly move up and down. The waves become bigger once more, due to her movements. Lisa was right. Her ass is really tight. And because you can barely see anything, it heightens your other senses even more.

With one hand on her throat and the other on her waist, you let Lisa bounce on your cock.

"Tighter!"

She yelps as she impales herself on your cock over and over again. You do as she says, tightening your grip on her throat. Her moans become raspier and you feel her walls clench around you. Your hand on her waist moves towards her ass, occasionally squeezing her cheeks.

"Fuck you are big."

You feel her becoming faster and now you regret not being able to see her face. The water splashes around the two of you and except for Lisa's moaning and her skin hitting yours, it's the only sound in the room.

Lisa's own hands are now both placed on your shoulders and she leans forward a little. Her head buries itself in your shoulder as she tries to muffle her moans. Your hand leaves her throat and dives for her pussy.

You start to rub her clit as she keeps bouncing on top of you.

"I'm gonna cum!"

The combination of your cock in her ass and your thumb on her clit proves itself too much for Lisa. The Thai girl manages to ride you a little longer, before she suddenly stays in place. Her hips seem glued to yours as her body freezes.

"Fuuuck!"

She moans loudly, which echoes through the room. You actually can't tell if she squirted or not, since you are wet anyways and it could have been a small wave.

"More. More."

Lisa begins to move to get off of you. You feel the ring of her muscles slide along your shaft, until you leave her.

You suddenly hear a knock on the door.

"Fucking hell."

You murmur, before glancing at Lisa. She is already in the water again, motioning you to follow her. And just as before, you sit in the same place as earlier, with Lisa's hand on your cock. She is ready to dive as soon as the door opens.

Once it does, you see some guy walk inside. The outline of his silhouette shows that he is still wearing his clothes. Feeling Lisa's lips on your cock again, you are too late to stop him. The lights turn on and you probably look like a deer in headlights.

The man jumps as he sees you sitting in the pool.

"What are you doing in the dark, mate?"

He has a thick British accent.

"Just wanted to enjoy the view."

You lazily gesture towards the window as you realize that Lisa's bikini top is swimming near by. You become nervous. Especially since Lisa is tapping your thighs again. Her lips around your cock are sealed tight.

"The showers are behind that door by the way."

You point to your right, hoping he would neither see Lisa nor her clothes.

"Thanks, mate."

He walks past you and you instinctively push Lisa's head down a little further. A couple of bubbles escape her nose and reach the surface. You crane your neck, waiting for the moment he steps through the door.

You pull Lisa out of the water, who is gasping for air again.

"Don't push me even further."

Her hair sticks to her shoulders and cheeks.

"Just making sure we don't get caught."

"Lets make you cum then."

Her blunt tone surprises you a little, but you follow her out of the pool. She looks over her shoulder at you, before kneeling on the chair, she sat on earlier.

"Pound me."

You step behind her and you see that she is still wearing her white bikini bottoms. She must have slid them aside earlier. You untie the strings, which hold the last piece of her clothing in place.

Her firm cheeks make you want to give her a couple of good slaps, but how are you going to explain those sounds? Instead, you just squeeze them, harder than before.

"Fuck me already."

Lisa sighs and reaches behind her. She pulls her ass cheeks apart, showing off her hole. You place your tip at her entrance and with one slow stroke, you are back inside her ass.

"Right there."

Lisa sighs again, trying to be a little quieter than before. Knowing that the other guy could come out any minute, you start to fuck Lisa into the chair. You start to chase your own orgasm as you feel her tightness around you.

The Thai girl's moans become louder with every thrust. You get nervous, when she doesn't stop. And although you hear him showering, her moans and screams would eventually overpower the shower.

While one hand stays on her waist, the other reaches forward. You close her mouth with your hand, making her moan and scream into it.

Her still wet body makes it hard to hold onto as you keep fucking Lisa into the wooden chair. It scratches on the tiles as you rock it back and forth. She is holding onto the backrest with both hands now, her knuckles turning white.

Lisa moans and says something, but you can't hear her. You can't stop fucking her like this. The sound of the chair sliding over the tiles becomes louder.

Lisa's ass hugs your cock tight and you can feel yourself, slowing approaching the end.

"Fuck, your ass feels great."

You feel her smile into your hand.

Due to her wet skin, your have to readjust your hand on her waist occasionally. Every time you do, you grip her a little harder. Slowly, red marks of your fingers start to appear.

You hear Lisa mumbling something inaudible again, but you can't take the risk of removing your hand.

The pressure in your crotch starts to build up further.

"Lisa-"

You are unable to say anything else. She nods vigorously. You feel her body shake a little and her ass gripping you even harder.

"I'm gonna cum inside."

She doesn't stop nodding as you keep plowing her into the chair.

You start to lose your grip and your hand slips off her mouth.

"Fuck, yes!"

Lisa takes her chance.

"Fill me up!"

In the back of your mind, you register that the sound of a running shower is gone. It's not like you can stop now anyways.

Lisa arches her back and it feels like you can go even deeper now.

"God yes!"

Lisa's head is now hanging off the backrest, while both your hands are holding her hips. You pull her back towards you, whenever you thrust forward.

"Almost there."

You groan, too overwhelmed by this quick but hard fuck.

Your grip tightens one last time and you can feel Lisa's muscles clench around you even harder. You manage to do two more strokes, before you finally cum.

You shoot your load inside her ass, making Lisa moan deeply. You have to hold onto the chair yourself as you fill her with your seed.

"It feels so good."

Lisa sighs.

"So fucking hot."

You are unable to speak for the moment. It takes you a couple of seconds to recover, before you remember the English dude.

"We have to hurry up."

"Yeah."

Lisa nods and you slowly start to leave her ass. Once you are out, you already see a globe of cum fall out of her hole. You grab her bikini bottoms and hand them to her, before you slowly walk into the pool. The sensation of the cold water makes it kinda weird. Once you finally reach your trunks and her top, you move to walk back out.

The two of you get dressed as fast as possible.

"I'm gonna see you for breakfast?"

You nod, before watching her walking off. Taking the bottle of gin with you, you follow her through the door. Still a little winded after a spontaneous anal session in the hotel pool.

You smile at her as you see her walk in.

"Ms Lee. It's nice to see you."

Greeting your girlfriend rather formal feels weird, but the two of you are keeping your relationship private so far.

"And it's nice to be here."

You are glad she isn't wearing the choker she tried on yesterday, but you do wonder if it's in her luggage. Nevertheless, she looks like a goddess with that pink hair and beautiful dress. The long silver earrings are now matched with a tight necklace, almost a choker. The black dress is showing off her shoulders and collarbone.

Ahin didn't want to wear anything too revealing, knowing that it might look weird and distract you from work tonight. As much as she loves to tease you and make you horny, she knows that this is very important to you.

The long sparkling silver belt adds a little more class to her outfit as well. It makes her waist look smaller.

"What would you like to eat?"

You gesture behind you, still being formal, knowing that at least one camera is capturing this moment. There are several journalists and such in this place. They are all trying to take the best pictures of the celebrities and write the best stories for their papers. After all, you are not no one. You aren't famous like Ahin, but your name is mentioned in news papers regularly.

"I would love to try some Korean dishes."

You extend your hand.

"Please follow me."

Your girlfriend takes it and you squeeze hers a little.

Your restaurant is quite unique. Instead of just serving one kind of food, you offer various dishes from countries all over the world. American burgers and pizza to Italian pasta, French delicacies, Chinese noodles and Korean BBQ and more.

It takes a lot of space, since the meals are actually made right at the customers' tables. Of course it was very expensive to plan and build all of this, but it hopefully makes you a lot of profit in the future. The walls and pictures and tables all represent the different countries you can eat from.

You and Ahin walk through the port of Venice and past the great wall of China, until you reach the banks of the Han River.

"Please, take a seat."

You gesture towards one of the empty tables. One of the chefs is already walking in your direction.

Although Ahin is a model for one of your companies, it would be weird to eat with her alone. You whish her a great night, before roaming through the restaurant once more.

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #blackpink #lisa manoban #blackpink lisa #lisa #ahin momoland #lee ahin

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rapunzelbro · 1 month

Text

Comforting Velvette as her S/O.

So tumblr broke, this request was vanished from my profile. So to the anon who requested I’m so sorry I hope you find this The prompts were “I don’t want to be alone right now” and another I forgot. Enjoy!

Masterlist Taglist

It would take forever to establish a relationship with Velvette let's be honest here.

She doesn't want anyone to see her in a vulnerable state, she doesn't want anyone thinking she is weak and needed a partner

That was until she met you, something about you was just different to her.

You were soft spoken, minded your own business but wouldn't stay quiet when someone said something that set you off.

Like to piss you off? Man you'd set whoever pissed you off, straight and they wouldn't speak, or argue with you again.

And your designs were amazing decent. Velvette rarely had to make any changes when it came to your sketches

And your stitch work? Fucking flawless compared to the others. Who just were you?

She would try to stalk you on social media to find out you had no account, or one she could find, with a little help from Vox she did eventually find it.

It was a completely anonymous account, with a rather decent following Like probably 10k?

Impressive but not compared to Velvette

Your account was hiding your identity by a random username that had no mention of you in the slightest, and no posts that involved photos of you. Just sketches, sheet music photos, and the occasional video of someone singing, which she assumed was you.

But what amused her more than anything, was seeing multiple sketches of her on your page.

You captured her beautifully, didn't make her look bad in any sort of way, it was so simple, but yet so beautiful.

Velvette definitely sereenshotted the sketeh

She never would have thought you admired her outside the work place. Let alone be a fucking singer too? What couldn't you do?

She'd call you into her office the next day and you'd be so fucking anxious that you fucked up somehow as you knocked on the door

"Yeah yeah come in"

You'd take a deep breath calming your nerves down before you went inside, closing the door behind you as you walked to her desk, she was still looking down at her phone

"You wanted to see me Miss?"

The second she heard your voice she looked up from her phone, placing it down and grabbing a piece of paper from the inside of her desk before placing it down

Shit

“Would you care to explain this?"

Your cheeks instantly flared red in embarrassment as you realized just what it was

The sketches of her that you drew

"I..I'm so sorry I promise it won't happen again I just well I-“

"Oh quit your yapping I'm not mad you idiot"

She instantly shuts you down slight irritation on her face, while confusion struck yours as you remained silent

"I'm promoting you to head designer, don't fuck this up. Shoo get back to it"

What the fuck? No literally, what the fuck?

You left as soon as she shooed you away, you were beyond confused as to why she did what she did, but you'd never question her.

Months after the promotion you and Velvette would become closer, considering how the two of you now worked closer together since you directly reported to her now.

Velvette wasn't as harsh as she usually was to you, she listened to your suggestions and took your thoughts seriously.

Velvette would ask you to go to a fashion show with her Saying it was to get another eye on the new trends, but you and her both indirectly knew it was her asking you in a date, which you obvious said yes.

After that point you were would date in private If anyone were to question you two? They'd be instantly fired on spot or killed. She didn't need anyone peaking into her personal life

Would introduce you to the other Vee's later on

"She is mine don't try and start no fucking deals with her, shes off the market"

If she didn't say that Valentino would have snatched your ass for himself. And man did he want to. Fucking creep

You two often watched tv together in her room in private, or you would sketch her, she absolutely loved that she was your muse. She would always have sketch books and the highest quality of materials.

You stayed with her during the exterminations that happened for your protection too, she wouldn't let you not stay with her if you were killed she'd fucking lose her mind

It's been almost a year since the two of you have been together privately, with the exception of Vox and Val

You'd be working late at the office sewing a new design when you'd get a text from her

"Y/n doll. Can come back to our room whatever you're doing can wait"

"Be there in five"

Oh and you moved in with her. Per her request of course.

You finish up what you were doing before heading back, knocking on the door to your shared room

When you don’t hear a response you grow concerned, as you open the door.

You see Velvette on the bed on your shared bed on her side. She quickly sits up hearing the door open

"Vox I told you to fuck off! Wait Y/n"

Her hard glare softens, she can tell she was crying

"Velv.. are you okay? What happened?"

You quickly made your way over to her

"I don't want to be alone right now, doll"

She simply says before you instantly hug her. Her returning the hug as you two just sit there, her quietly sobbing as you gently run your fingers through her soft curls, humming gently to her, trying to comfort her the best you can

You two are like that before she pulls away, keeping a hand in yours as you wipe the tears that remained trying your best to not smear her makeup anymore than it already was.

After a while she finally talks about what was causing her pain.

She might not be open to a lot of people

But damn do you help her a lot.

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel #hazbin art #hazbin lucifer #velvette x reader #hazbin velvette #hazbin hotel vox x reader

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magicalmysteries777 · 2 months

Text

"You're clueless, you know that?" - Reader x Eddie Munson & Reader x Steve Harrington (fake)

Summary: You agree to accompany Steve to Enzo's for Valentine's Day with only one shared goal in mind - to make Eddie so jealous he has no choice but to have the one conversation he's being avoiding.

Pairings: F!Reader x Steve Harrington & F!Reader x Eddie Munson.

Chapter: 1 of 1.

W/C: 2314.

A/N: Happy Valentines Day, besties! This trope paired with Steve and Eddie has had me in a chokehold for a while now and I'm so happy that the lil ADHD gremlin in my brain has finally let me write the damn thing. <3

This one-shot can also be found on AO3 here.

“You really think that’ll work? Pretending to go on a date with you?” you asked, leaning against the counter at Family Video.

“It better work. Personally, I’m sick of hearing you pine over him. He’s had a thing for you ever since you joined Hellfire but he’s completely clueless when it comes to all the hints you’ve dropped,” Robin chimed in without looking up from the ‘returns’ pile of videotapes she was sorting through.

Clueless didn’t even begin to cut it.

You’d known about Eddie’s crush on you for months now, ever since Dustin slipped up and spilled the beans at lunch one day. The poor kid made you swear on your own life that you wouldn’t tell Eddie you knew.

True to your word, you kept the secret and began dropping hints instead. Eddie couldn’t read the room to save his life.

Any time you caught him staring, he’d break eye contact before you could smile back at him. Any time your hands accidentally touched, he’d move his hand away and play it off if you didn’t keep your hand perfectly still.

“I think it’s perfect,” Steve smiled. “There’s nothing like a bit of jealously to make you realise what you want.”

“I dunno,” you mumbled, chewing your cheek while you weighed up your options.

“When he sees you all dolled up, thinking it’s for me, the dots will connect. Trust me.”

“Fine, I’ll find out when he’s working.”

Steve’s plan had been in the back of your mind the whole time you’d been sitting around the table with your fellow Hellfire members. It was a long game of highs and lows all night. Despite the distraction, you’d manage to come out of the battle victorious with a mere five health points left. The party, albeit a little bruised and battered, was one step closer to defeating Myrkul and Eddie was in a good mood.

It took the usual fifteen minutes to pack up Eddie’s maps, dice, tokens, and other various game pieces before you climbed into the passenger side of his van. “Sorry for the mess,” Eddie apologised.

“You say that every week and yet you never clean it.”

“I do, it just gets messy again,” he smirked.

You were halfway home when you glanced over at Eddie. His hair was frizzy, sticking up in places from all the near misses in battle where he’d had his hands running through it. The rings on his left hand were glowing gently from the reflection of his lit cigarette as he used it to control the steering wheel. His right hand was methodically fiddling with the busted cassette player that he’d been meaning to fix for months. As always when Eddie was concentrating, his tongue was sticking out and resting against his top lip.

“Got it!” he exclaimed as Rainbow in the Dark started blasting from the speaker, a huge grin spread across his face.

“When are you going to buy a new one?” you chuckled, prodding at the battered box.

“Stop touching it,” he slapped your hand away. “It’ll start crackling again. I’ve picked up some overtime next weekend, I’m hoping the gents will be tipping big to impress their dates.”

“No Valentine’s plan with anyone special then?”

“Nope, just work. Doubt there’s anyone out there who would want to spend their Valentine’s Day with the ‘Freak of Hawkins’ anyway.”

“You’d be surprised, some people like their men a little freaky.”

“What about you? Any plans?” he asked, the change in tone rather subtle.

For a moment, you weren’t sure if you were going to go through with the plan. Steve’s words echoed through your mind listed the pros and cons. ‘Trust me.’

“Yeah, I’ve got a date at Enzo's. At least I don’t have to worry about it going bad now if you’re working, you can come over and scare him off for me.”

“That’s great. Wow, a date. Um, yeah, I’ll fend him off for you if things go pear-shaped. Do I, uh, know the guy?” he stuttered.

“I don’t want to jinx it,” you answered, remembering Robin's claims that a little bit of mystery would be the key to the whole plan working.

“Of course,” Eddie agreed, a sarcastically dumb look plastered on his face. You couldn’t help but notice that this was exactly how he used to act when Dustin mentioned Steve. “Would you look at that? Here we are. Once again, dropped off in one piece, as requested.”

“You okay, Ed?” you ask, one eyebrow raised.

“Yep. Fine. Tired,” he mumbled through an unconvincing yawn. “Long game. I’m gonna go and, uh, get some sleep. Night.”

“And he said it exactly like that?” Steve asked.

“Yes, Steve, how many times do I have to go through it? He basically kicked me out of the van,” you answered.

“It’s definitely working.”

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent. Wait until he finds out it’s me, he’s gonna freak.”

“He might not react at all. Believe it or not, he is professional at work.”

“Bet on it?”

“Shut up.”

Eddie had been an asshole all week.

Jeff and Gareth got the worst of it. You, however, had been getting the silent treatment. It was Thursday lunchtime when Eddie finally acknowledged you again.

“So, what are your plans this weekend?” Dustin asked Mike.

“Movies with El then dinner, you?”

“Arcade with Will. What about you, Eddie?”

“Work and band, why?”

“It’s called small talk,” Dustin answered. “What is with you this week?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he snapped.

“Tell your face that, man,” added Jeff.

“Lay off it. Why don’t you ask her what she’s doing this weekend instead and leave me alone?” Eddie prompted, gesturing in your direction. He did not stick around to hear the answer, walking away dramatically.

“Well, what are you doing?” asked Dustin.

“I’ve got a date,” you answered quickly and quietly, sinking into your seat as a sense of guilt began to creep up on you.

“You what?!” asked Gareth.

“I said I’ve got a date.”

“Yeah, I heard you. The fuck do you mean you’ve got a date? With who?”

“Does it matter?” you ask asked.

“Evidently it does. I’ve been taking the brunt of his crap all week and you’re telling me it’s because you’re going on a date?”

“How was I supposed to know he’d react like this?” you quickly try to defend yourself.

“Are you blind?” Jeff asks.

“No, but he is. I’ve dropped hints. Lots of them. If he doesn’t want to acknowledge it then that’s on him.”

“Wow,” smiled Steve, looking you up and down. He took your hand, albeit rather dramatically, and began leading you to the car.

“Save it for the restaurant, you dingus. Does this look okay then?” you ask.

“The dress alone might kill him, never mind the heels and hair.”

Ten minutes later, Steve parked up outside Enzo's.

“When we get in there, sit with your back to the bar. You’re about to get the full Harrington charm, okay?” he asked.

“Got it.”

“Hi there, table for two under Harrington,” Steve told the hostess.

“Follow me.”

“Here we are,” the hostess said as she gestured to a small table. “Here are your menus, the waiter will be over to take your order shortly.”

“Thank you,” you replied, taking the seat that Steve had pulled out for you.

“So,” you began.

“So,” Steve replied with a grin.

“I’m not going to lie, Steve, I feel really awkward.”

“I can tell,” he responded. “Relax. We’re just two friends, dressed up, and having a nice meal. Loosen up a little and have fun, or this isn’t going to work.”

You tried to relax, really, you did. But you couldn’t help shake the feeling that Eddie was burning holes into the back of your head with his staring.

“Welcome to Enzo's, my name is Ruben and I’ll be your server this evening. Any drinks to start?”

“Sparkling water for me, and…” Steve prompted.

“Lemonade, please.”

“Awesome, I’ll get that put in at the bar for you. Any starters today?”

“Do you-” Steve began, turning his attention back to you.

“More of a dessert person,” you answer.

“Me too,” smiled Ruben. “What mains would you like?”

“Lasagne for me, please,” answered Steve.

“Chicken Alfredo, please.”

“Awesome. I’ll get all that put in for you, enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, ‘preciate that,” Steve told him before he left the table.

After a couple of minutes of the usual “how was work?” and “how was school?” small talk, Steve’s gaze quickly shot behind you as he sat up a little bit straighter.

“Here’s your lemonade,” Eddie announced, placing the glass down in front of you.

“Thanks, Eddie. How’s your shift?” you asked with a smile.

“So-so. Started going downhill about twenty minutes ago,” he answered.

“Nothing worse than a shitty Friday shift,” Steve chimed in.

“Evening rush,” Eddie responded, unwilling to meet Steve’s gaze. “Everything okay over here?”

“Great, thank you,” you respond.

“Harrington,” Eddie muttered, placing Steve’s water in front of him with a little bit more force than he did the lemonade, before heading back to the bar.

“He won’t even look at me, this is working even better than I thought,” Steve chuckled.

One hour and one chicken alfredo later, Ruben returned.

“Well you two are looking cosy over here,” he told you. Steve had been giving you cues on how to sit and when to laugh all evening. “How about that dessert? I highly recommend the ‘brownie and ice cream for two.’ Chef special tonight.”

“Sounds perfect,” answered Steve.

“Alrighty, that’ll be about ten to fifteen minutes. Any more drinks?”

“The same again, please,” you answer.

A couple of minutes later, Steve gave another instruction.

“Rest your left arm on the table.”

“What?”

“Now.”

Steve let out a sudden laugh and adjusted himself in his seat. He placed his arm on the table, his fingertips slightly brushing against your own.

A loud crashing noise from behind you had heads rolling to see what was going on. Every pair of eyes in the restaurant landed on Eddie.

“Sorry folks,” he announced. Eddie quickly began picking up the larger shards of glass whilst another bartender brought over cloths and a broom.

“Hook, line, and sinker,” Steve whispered, loud enough for only you to hear.

You really were getting the full Harrington charm, as promised. Steve had been feeding you brownie on and off for ten minutes, his glancing over to Eddie quickly now and again.

“It’s almost time,” Steve whispered.

“Time for what?”

“The grand finale.”

Steve leaned in slightly and wiped the side of your mouth gently with his thumb. “Ice cream,” he smirked.

“Is that really necessary?”

“One hundred percent. On my cue, you’re going to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom,” he began.

“But-”

“If this whole fake date has gone to plan, which by the way has been lovely, then I do believe Munson won’t let you make it that far. Go now.”

As instructed, you excused yourself from the table and made your way towards the bathroom. Just as you got to the door you felt a hand close softly around your wrist.

“Hey, can we talk?” Eddie asked.

“Everything okay?”

“No, actually, it’s not,” he answered. Eddie glanced around before pulling you through a door labelled ‘staff only’.

“Eddie, wha-”

“You can’t date Steve.”

“I can date whoever I like Eddie,” you respond.

“Why him?” he asked, his hand still wrapped lightly around your wrist.

“Why not?”

“Because,” he began, pausing in thought. “Because he’s… he’s got a reputation. Surely you’ve heard all the rumours?”

“And we both know him well enough to know he’s not that person anymore,” you answer, your gaze locking with Eddie’s who, surprisingly, held it.

“You just can’t, please,” he pleaded.

“Give me a good enough reason as to why I shouldn’t go back out there and I won’t.”

Eddie stayed silent for a few moments, his big, brown eyes locked on yours. The small staff room became stuffy all of a sudden, the air so thick it felt like you could barely breathe. You held your ground, waiting for him to speak, but he didn’t. You stared back at Eddie, your eyes pleading with him to just say something. Anything.

You broke your gaze from Eddie’s and turned towards the door, ready to give up and go home. Eddie’s grip on your wrist tightened and he pulled you back towards him, using his free hand to cup your face as his lips met yours.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, Eddie kissing you, but it felt like forever. The tension in the air vanished, leaving you with a cozy feeling deep in your stomach, where the butterflies used to live.

“You can do better than him. You deserve better than him. You deserve someone who knows that you take extra sugar in your coffee when you’re studying. Someone who knows that you’re a completely evil genius in the best way possible when it comes to D&D. Someone who knows you’d rather be in bed with a book at-” he glanced at his watch, “nine o’clock at night. Someone who apparently isn’t very good at making the first move.”

“You’re clueless, you know that?”

“I am?”

“Yeah,” you replied, leaning in to kiss him again.

If it wasn’t for Ruben who knows how long you would have stood there, entwined together, lost in the moment.

“Hey man, you heading home?” Eddie asked casually, placing a little distance between the two of you.

“I was, but turns out I’m staying late. Guy with the hair on table twelve tipped me a hundred bucks to finish your bar shift and fetch a fresh brownie out. Said you ‘owe him one’ and you can ‘square it up later’. Brownie will be out in five. Enjoy.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #fluff #fake date #fake dating #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddies a big baby #smart steve #platonic steve harrington

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bro-atz · 2 months

Text

forbidden love [trope — san]

inspired by: love 365 — video game

pair: ceo!san/afab!reader

word count: 3.4k

content: smut, angst, forbidden love, age gap, allusions to office sex, hotel sex, pretty vanilla which considering san it shouldn't be, completely consensual!

author's note: also inspired by the other san req. i got for the 500 event bc ceo!san is just something i cannot resist writing

trope masterlist

“Honey, you remember Mr. Choi, right?” your father asked you.

“Uh, the CEO, right?”

“Yeah. Don’t you remember playing with his little girls in the neighborhood growing up?”

“Oh! Mr. Choi San! Right.”

“Who did you think I was talking about?”

“The other one you introduced me to— the one with the incredible voice who chose pharmaceuticals over singing.”

Your father laughed heartily. You watched him with a bemused smile as he cracked up for much longer than he should’ve been laughing in the first place. Finally, he calmed down and continued, “No, not Jongho. San, yes. So, anyway, he and I were talking about your inability to get a job—”

“Great, now you’re just broadcasting it to the entire goddamn neighborhood. Dad, I said I’m trying to get in my friend’s company—”

“You’ve been saying that for months. San said he could get you a job right now, and you’re going to take it, got it?” your father interrupted.

“Come on! I want to work in the entertainment industry, not for—”

“Not another word. Look, I invited San to meet us here, and he’s going to offer you the job in front of me, and you’re going to take it, got it?”

You pouted and crossed your arms over your chest. Arguing with the man was next to impossible at this point, so you had no choice but to just listen. You sat and stewed in angry silence until the man of the hour showed up. He seemed to glide into the coffee shop while oozing charisma and intensity, making your heart nearly leap out of your chest. It had been a while since you had seen San, and the last time you could properly recollect him was at your high school graduation.

You always thought the man was attractive, but seeing him wearing a three piece suit and glasses with his hair slicked back instead of his usual attire of jeans and a t-shirt (not that he looked bad in that either) was definitely a sight to behold. You couldn’t help but hold your breath as he walked right up to you and your father, the man immediately greeting his friend first.

“Seonghwa, it’s been so long,” San said as the two went for a brief hug.

“I saw you last week at the pickle ball game, shut up,” Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “You remember my daughter, right?”

“Of course,” San smiled kindly at you as soon as he laid his eyes on you. “Hi, Y/N.”

“H-hi, Mr. Choi,” you responded weakly.

You held out your hand for him to shake, only to immediately be met by a frown. “Come on, Y/N. We’ve known each other far too long for that.”

Before you could even react, San pulled you in for a hug. You fully stopped breathing again when you felt his firm arms around you, and you nearly gasped for air when he let you go.

The three of you sat down and talked logistics. San needed a new receptionist, and it was decided you would work as his receptionist until you managed to secure the job at your friend’s company, and there were more logistics worked into the conversation, but the only thing you could think about was how you were going to pressure your friend to get you a job at their company faster because there was no way in hell you were going to last at Mr. Choi San’s company.

“I-I thought I was to be your receptionist?” you asked San with complete shock upon reviewing the paperwork in his office.

“You are, though.”

“B-but this seems more like secretarial work…?”

“The term secretary seems to be a little demeaning nowadays. How about office assistant for the title, then?”

“Am I helping you or the office?”

“Executive assistant.”

“I-I… I don’t know…”

“Y/N,” San sighed. “We both know that your father is going to kill you if you don’t take this job, so call yourself whatever you want, but this is what’s going to be expected of you here since this is the only position we need to fill. Sorry, but that’s the deal.”

“Alright, Mr. Choi…” you reluctantly accepted your fate and started signing your name on the documents.

After submitting the documents to him, you made your way out of his office and went to your station, your mind reeling with thoughts. You wondered if you could get out of the job by messing up every single thing that came your way, but if you did, your father would have your head. That, but you also did not want to mess up the relationship between your father and the man you were working for, so you just settled for putting even more pressure on your friend to get you the hell out of this job.

Your friend did not pull through. It had been six months, and your friend had yet to hold up their end of the bargain, but honestly, you weren’t complaining. You found yourself having fun working for San. He was very understanding and patient, which surprised you given how he used to yell at your friends to get their ass in the house to finish their homework when you all were growing up.

Those little anecdotes, however, slowly started to seep out of your mind. You had to do your best to remember these memories because, honestly, you were starting to forget who San was in your life. He was slowly morphing from the neighbor kids’ dad to the incredibly sexy man you reported to on a daily basis.

While you were insanely attracted to the man, you still made sure to do your job well. This meant that if San texted you at two in the morning on Sunday, you responded to him. This meant that if he needed you to stay and work overtime with him, you did it. This meant that if he asked you to run personal errands with him, you went with him.

“Y/N, can you come here for a second?” San asked you one day at work.

“What is it?”

“Smell this.”

San opened his suit jacket and gestured for you to come closer, which you did so very cautiously. You took a light sniff of his jacket from about a foot away and said, “Good.”

“Really? You smelled it from all the way there?” San was skeptical. “Seriously, I need to know. Can you actually smell it properly, please?”

Your brain told you to refuse, but your hormones, which were already swimming because you could actually smell how amazing his cologne was from that foot distance, said otherwise. You shifted closer and sniffed again while getting a good whiff this time. You felt your face heat up slightly as you nodded and said quietly, “It smells good, Mr. Choi.”

“Must you call me Mr. Choi?” San sighed as he adjusted his jacket. “It’s very stifling.”

“Mr. Choi, you’re my boss. I’m going to be respectful.”

“And for that, I thank you, but sometimes, I seriously hate when you call me Mr. Choi.”

“Why is that?”

“It’s… Stifling.”

You blinked and looked the man right in the eye. “You already said that. Is everything okay?”

San let out a light sigh before shaking his head. “It’s fine. I’d just rather hear you call me by my name.”

There was a brief moment of silence between the two of you, and when San looked at you again, your heart fluttered rapidly. There was something unspoken in his gaze that made you want to find out more, and if it weren’t for his cologne, you probably would’ve let it go.

“What do you mean?”

“I… Never mind. Just let it go. Anyway, can you look over this report for me?”

San gestured for you to approach closer, which you did, and soon, you were leaning over his shoulder and reading the report on his computer screen. You got more and more of the notes of his cologne, the pine and the musk seeping into your brain and deleting all the logic in it. It deleted so much of your common sense that you found yourself leaning so far over his shoulder that your breasts pressed against it, turning you on even more just feeling how firm his broad back was.

“It looks good. I would just change a couple of sentences.”

“Which ones?”

Pushing further into him, you moved so that you were right against him as you moved his mouse and clicked around before reaching over and typing on his keyboard. The more intimate your actions became, the more the tiniest bit of your rational brain left screamed at you to stop, but you didn’t want to, and you couldn’t when San placed his hand over yours, his hand engulfing yours and the mouse.

“I see. Thank you, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome, San…”

You should’ve moved. You shouldn’t have been that close to him in the first place. You should’ve stopped either yourself or him, but it was too late. When he reached for your cheek with his other hand, you could’ve moved away; but instead, you moved into his touch— his warm, gentle touch.

“Tell me to stop,” San breathed out as he brought your face to his.

You didn’t dare tell him to stop. He pressed his lips gently against yours at first before pulling back to gauge your reaction. But, you didn’t want him to stop. You wanted to feel the warmth of his lips seep into yours, his hold on your face to slip from your cheek to your neck, then maybe down your shoulder, hips, and to your waist. And, like a mind reader, he did just that. He kissed you once more, this time with more force and passion. His hands moved so that he brought you onto his lap, one hand on the back of your neck and the other on your waist as he kissed you ferociously.

“Fuck,” San breathed out in between kisses. “Please don’t tell me to stop now, beautiful.”

There was no way in hell you were going to tell him to stop now.

“Gosh, you’re so pretty,” San uttered as he brushed your hair out of your face. “Don’t stop moaning for me, beautiful.”

Your relationship with the CEO got very complicated to say the least. After that day in his office, the two of you simply could not keep your hands away from each other. You loved it when he held you close to him and made you feel like the most special girl in the world, and he loved it when you sank into his embrace, your body begging for more than a simple hug. So, frequently, after work, you found yourself spending restless night after restless night in San’s hotel suite.

“San— Ah!” you moaned loudly when he pushed his face under your jawline and left sweet, painful kisses behind your ear. “I want you… Please…”

“What do you want, beautiful?” San asked, his hands trailing down your body before hooking into the waistband of your skirt and panties and pulling down. “Do you want my fingers to fill you up?”

Two of his fingers stroked the lips of your quivering pussy lightly, making you cling to his shoulders. While one hand worked on making you wetter, the other pushed your shirt up and went under your bra, his thumb tracing circles over your nipple.

“Or do you want me to toy with your nipples and pinch them until they turn purple?”

“I want you in me,” you whined. “Don’t tease me… Please…”

You watched San’s face go a light shade of pink as he heard you whine and beg. Quickly withdrawing his hands, San got straight to work, his clothes falling to the ground rapidly. “Of course, beautiful. Anything for you.”

As San tore open a condom packet and rolled it on his throbbing, fat cock, you got out of your own clothes and tossed them aside, your arms outstretched for him as soon as the two of you were ready. San fit himself into your perfect embrace and rubbed his cockhead along your folds and against your sensitive clit a couple times before pushing into you. You moaned loudly and brought San further into your embrace as you clung to him, your body still not used to his massive size.

“Fuck, darling, you’re so tight,” San groaned in your ear as he dropped his head down. “I’m going to start moving, okay?”

You could only muster a nod in response. The second San started moving, you dug your fingernails into his skin and held him tightly, your cunt tightening further as you brought your legs around his waist. Your heart and pussy clenched when you heard his labored groans rip through your body.

“Shit, it’s like you’re trying to break my dick off,” San hissed as he rammed his cock further into you.

“San,” you breathed his name out, unable to conjure up more words as your brain was turning to mush with every harsh thrust.

You ran your fingers through his hair and grabbed his head, weakly guiding him to your lips, which he consumed in a heartbeat. Saliva dripped down your mouth as you dropped it open, allowing the man complete access to let his tongue violate your own. His thrusts didn’t let up in the slightest as he made out with you messily, his own hands squeezing and groping all of the parts of your body he desired.

“Mmm— Ah! S-San,” your voice trembled as wave upon wave of pleasure rushed through your body. “C-cum— Hnngh!”

You flung your head back into the plush pillows of the hotel suite bed and cried loudly as you felt pleasure wrack your body, your thighs and hips trembling as you came hard, your arousal fluid squirting all over the sheets.

The erotic noises of San’s cock driving in and out of you with your fluid adding squelches was too much for the man himself to bare. Pushing your hips up, San hammered into you at a fresh angle, making you cum one more time as he buried his cock deep within you. With a final, lingering grasp, San shoved himself all the way inside you, the head of his dick hitting your cervix, allowing the two of you to cum with bed trembling moans and groans. San’s cum spurt into the condom and nearly burnt a hole within you with how hot his load was.

“Fucking hell,” San hissed under his breath as the high of his own orgasm wore off. “Darling, that was so fucking good. You’re so fucking good. You’re too good to me…”

San let out a blissful exhale and kissed you lightly over and over again as his searing hot cock remained inside you, the heat from the man’s body revving your engine up all over again. But, that moment quickly faded when you heard his phone ring. With a groan of disappointment, San forcibly detached himself from you to answer the call.

“What does she want now?” you heard San utter to himself as he fully got out of the bed to answer the call.

You combed out your hair with your fingers and struggled to sit yourself up. Wrapping yourself in the duvet, your eyes warily tracked San as he paced the hotel room slowly.

“I don’t understand why you’re having such a hard time signing these papers… It’s been five years. Stop dragging your feet.”

It was his wife. His wife. The woman you came to respect as you grew up. The woman who was the mother of your friends. The woman who was still married to the man you were sleeping with. San’s fucking wife.

“San, we can work this through. We’ve done it so many times in the past. Please, think about your daughters.”

Each word ripped through your heart. Here you were laying in a hotel bed with the father of your friends while his wife, the mother of your friends, was trying to repair their broken relationship. A bad feeling settled in your gut as you thought back to the happy memories of your friends and their family.

“They’re grown women. I’m sure they’re just as sick and tired of all of this as I am. Sign the papers.”

“San, please.”

“Sign the goddamn papers. I have to go. Don’t call me again unless you’ve done so.”

With that, San hung up; and although the conversation had ended, the terrible feeling plaguing your heart did not.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” San asked as he laid eyes on your consternated face.

“San, you’re still married,” you whispered out.

“That relationship ended years ago, Y/N,” San said with a heavy sigh. “Please don’t look at me like that. Don’t be alarmed.”

“How can I not be alarmed, S—”

Before you could finish your thought, San sat down on the bed and cut you off with a kiss— a telling kiss, a kiss that showed you just how much you meant to him.

“I said don’t be. You trust me, right?” San asked with his low, reassuring voice and that lingering hand that cupped your cheek just right. “Don’t think about it. It’s done. It’s been done. I… I love you, now.”

You wanted to cry. Tears brimmed your eyes as you heard the words leave his mouth. The feelings you tried denying yourself were coming to surface, but you knew that you should not let them surface at all. Not like this. Not when you were coming in between a family.

“I… I know, San,” you responded lamely.

It certainly did not help when he wrapped those big, strong arms— the arms you fell in love with— around you. You remained limp in his arms as San did his best to show you exactly how much you meant to him, but that didn’t change the fact that what you were doing was seriously wrong and that it needed to end before anyone else got hurt.

San didn’t know what happened or where he went wrong. The only thing he knew for sure was that your resignation letter was on his desk. You didn’t say anything in that letter other than that you were leaving. No reason as to why or how— you were simply leaving. However, San was having none of that.

He raced to your house. He broke many laws doing so, but, God, he needed to see you. He needed to know what went wrong, and he needed to know as soon as possible since his messages to you weren’t delivering, his calls weren’t going through, and even his emails were getting bounced back.

When San knocked on your door, though, he did not expect to see your father, and he did not expect to see the man so angry.

“You have some fucking nerve showing up here, you asshole,” Seonghwa spat out.

“Seonghwa, what’s—”

“Who the fuck do you fucking think you are, Choi San?! You fucking psychopath!”

“What are you going on about?”

“You slept with my daughter! What on fucking Earth is wrong with you!” Seonghwa screeched, his voice nearly echoing in the silent streets of the neighborhood.

San’s blood ran cold. Sure, in the back of his mind, there was a constant reminder that you were the daughter of his friend, the friend of his daughters, the girl he watched grow up right before his very eyes, but none of that actually registered until Seonghwa berated him.

“You fucked my fucking daughter, Choi San!” Seonghwa yelled at the man. “Stay the fuck away from me and my family you, you fucking disgusting human being! How fucking dare you lay a finger on her like that when I trusted you!”

“Seonghwa, you don’t understand! We—”

“I don’t give a fuck! I heard it from my daughter, and I certainly don’t need to hear it from you, San! I recommend you stay the fuck away from me and her, otherwise I’m going to slap your ass with a lawsuit you piece of shit!”

Seonghwa slammed the door in his face. San, motionless, stayed on the front porch with his head bent down in shame not because Seonghwa yelled at him, but because he did the unthinkable— he fell in love with you. You, his best friend’s daughter. You, the woman he never should have gotten intimate with. You.

You watched him from the window in your bedroom as he let out a sigh and retreated to his car, and you continued to watch him as he sat in his car and held his head with one hand and his chest with the other. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell.

He was crying too.

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trope taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @k-hotchoisan @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @hyukssunflower @yunhogrippers @oreoqueen

network: @cromernet

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#ateez #choi san #san smut #san x reader #ateez san #choi san ateez #san ateez #choi san smut #broatz #trope ateez #trope series #ateez smut #ateez angst #san angst #choi san angst #cromernet

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