#FINALLY I have written something again and it feels so good
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scopophobia-polaris · 2 days ago
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So, to add on to Navi's post, because her whole read for the original was getting screenshots from the game to debunk what was said, of course....we are now here. I want to tell you that no one here disagreed with your conclusion about Ganondorf being a victim. What we here disagreed with was the method you used to get there. Simplifying Ganondorf down to solely good or solely evil is something this Fandom does all the time with little to no nuance. And even though you have written an eloquent essay, Published even! You twisted or outright made up parts of the game to get to your conclusion. In essay writing, that's called a logical fallacy, and the whole essay either twists what happens in the game or outright gets it wrong.
Now people are probably gonna wonder why I'm treating this like a big deal or why I'm speaking so blunt, because this is by all means very stupid fandom drama.
But I think when you're a college prof and you get an essay published and it's online for people to read everywhere without you, one, not giving the context behind Ganondorf's creation and the coding of his appearance and motivations, two the complexities of a corporate conglomerate in a notoriously socially conservative country taking aesthetics from countries who were historically colonized. And Three, The way that video games are a collaborative effort with usually no singular vision, this is very true at nintendo despite what people may think, and at any moment changes can be made for any reason by team leads or executives that would hinder or even hurt a story. It detrimental to the audience reading it that you do not provide them more of a couple of screenshots
Basically, many things go into a story and now I'm taking this more from a DOYLIST view right here talking about Nintendo. But I'm doing this because you keep trying to say..... well fuck man do I need to pull up more examples? Navi got them all, the whole essay is you trying HEAVILY to imply that Nintendo MEANT to do all of this, as in intentional in the story, idk I feel crazy, words have meaning, specific wording has implication, oh and this dosent even get into how localization can change things 😃😀 wording has meaning and sometimes translators don't have cultural contexxxtttttttt and to not even mention about Nintendo's history or even the short hand that comes from Ganondorf's design and the historical Orientalism behind it feels like a disservice to the paper, but much more qualified people then I have discussed the way Ganondorf is written and probably would love to discuss or link to previous writing again if asked.
And this is a cold take but Nintendo isn’t the place you should be looking to for deep story telling, they will always be a corporate entity first and the bottom line is a general audience, this does not mean JUST KIDS this means to a generalized population. And this is extremely cynical but a lot of people cant even handle the complexity of a female character who is mean, like Midna, do you really think people would handle a Ganondorf like how he is in Tp being portrayed in any form of film language as good????? This game dropped 5 years after 9/11, Nintendo was never gonna lose out in money like that.
And Dude people have given so much shit to HUGE fanartists and comic authors about their work portraying Ganondorf in a sympathetic light, you would of thunk more people would of picked up on Ganondorf's story being written as tragedy if there was something in the game that actually DID that. Maybe they would of written a blog post about how Midna saw Link kill Ganondorf and was ashamed of that or Ganondorf TOTALLY said the history of light and shadow will be written in blood thing before the final battle, you think people would of talked about huh why did Ganondorf say that there or something and maybe went 🤔 instead of it being argued that Tp Ganondorf had the weakest writing of the series until TotK threw a pile of flaming shit at my door with a picture of Ganondorf on it.
Navi also goes in depth on how Hyrule has not exactly stagnated like what was claimed in History of Light and Shadow by using the Goron merchants and Yeto as examples.
Rynling has stated that the cause of the stagnation and decline is due to an ineffectual leader that has "Not allowed its people to be revitalized by change and diversity."
Now I am familiar with the flaws of an undetermined national unity, I am very familiar with the subject, but I’m not going to speak like an authority. Id rather let someone much more qualified make that post and I link back to it, because i know its coming. But Navi said in her post that the idea of what could of happened at Arbiter's Grounds can completely blow over someone's head if they didn't play OoT first, and I think more or less this is accurate, certain things are lost in Wind Waker even with the recaps, but I wanna join in on this in my own way...
Rynling....you may say Hyrule has been on a decline during Tp......you may even think OoT had a more stable Hyrule or some shit.....i THINK YOU FORGOT ABOUT THE PLOT OF OCARINA OF TIME BAYBEEEEEEE
THE SUPPLEMENTAL MATERIAL THAT I CAN PULL UP TO PROVE MY SHIT ABOUT OOT HYRULE BEING DOG SHIT IN COMPARISON TO TP
Like if you're seriously gonna link me and Navi to your essay then I am about to go full BTW it's a Sativa and eat that bitch after midnight cuZ we YELLIN ABOUT OCARINA OF TIME ON THIS POST FOR EVERYONE🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
All of Ocarina of Time's narrative is haunted by the civil war, the whole reason why Link is being raised in the woods is cuz of the civil war, the Sheikah are implied to have died out during the same conflict, and well its said that Hyrule was unified during it
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Civil War yet the translators use unified the country like it WASNT under a sole ruler before? Hello? I need to go back through the Japanese script for the game again to see if i missed something of the game and freak it harder. And do realize the Deku sprout in this screenshot says fierce war but every where else, including the Zelda wiki (not fandom) its CIVIL War.
The Gate to Death mountain and Simultaniously the fence at Zora's river gives us and idea that peace was....tenuous at best downright hostile at worse given relations with the Gerudo
so today we gonna do some fun comparing and contrasting the Gorons and how they are treated in OoT to TP
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and we gonna start with his racist ass BHJBHDBHKCJW
I mean, damn remmeber how mad Darunia is at Link for being the supposed royal family messenger? Link Unlocking the door to Darunia's room with Zelda's lullaby, I think it's a little funny that Darunia is hung up , you know, like he knows this is some disrespectful shit
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Hey wannna hear some shit? The gates at the edge of death mountain aren't guarded by Gorons and were not built by them you can tell, the only way to visit the mountain is to get permission from the King to go up and not from the people that actually live there
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God and like, there is something about the way Darunia locks himself in his room, like he does it to keep the ruby safe from all the other Gorons being so hungry that he's frightened they're gonna eat it, he doesn't know what to do on how to act about the Dodongos that Ganondorf summon on him for not giving over that rock. It qlmost sounds like when Ganondorf came in and Threatened Darunia, and that he (Darunia) sent a message to the royal family asking for help, why else would he be expecting someone to come meet with him?
"If I'm not mistaken, you came out here to eat the red stone too! Well, too bad! It's not here! What? That's not why you're here? You're looking for a "Spiritual Stone?" You must mean that delicious-looking red stone that was once displayed above the city! I was so hungry that I thought it would be OK to just give it one tiny, little lick...so I snuck up there. But it was already gone! I think Big Brother took it away. He always says that everyone is after that red stone! Big Brother has shut himself up in his room saying, "I will wait in here for the Royal Family's messenger!" this is a quote from the Goron that you can find on the middle of the rope bridge thing in Goron city.
Yeah so he sent a letter or something and no one answered yeesh.
contrast this all with TP where OH LOOKS WHO'S GUARDING DEATH MOUNTAIN
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so in TP spoilers, this happens
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Kakariko is more connected then ever! Renado here is wondering what the hell is going on with their FRIENDS. And yeah the Goron elder Gor Coron is trying to keep the last few people from kakariko left safe, and other Gorons, i mean, theyre keeping a piece of the fused shadow in there. also the way that entry into the temple goes in this game is cute, Darunia was freaking it cuz everyone is starving, but here Link wrestles his way up a mountain to ask the Gron elder whats happening since he was asked to come here by Renado, Gor Coron goes DAMN
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unless......?
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IDK ITS LIKE? ITS SILLY? Idk Hyrule isnt the best place but why try and act like this doesnt happen during TP?
so where am i getting at with this? the hell was going on back during OoT? If things are so odd and weirdly tense with the gates gaurds and non responses
"As time passed, the Triforce became a legend, and the different people of Hyrule forgot the laws and wisdom that the goddesses had left behind. Warfare and strife became common in Hyrule, as the armies of the Zora marched on the Hylians. The Gorons fought the Gerudo. It seemed every race of Hyrule was at the other's throat. Only the secluded Kokiri, sheltered by their magical forest and the Great Deku Tree, were spared the destruction of Hyrule's civil wars.
After 50 years of ceaseless combat, there arose a Hylian King of great wisdom, courage and power. Through his brilliant military campaigns and wise diplomacy, he was able to bring the varied people of Hyrule into a tenuous harmony. Treaties of peace were signed, and prosperity once again seemed to bloom in Hyrule. But no sooner had people declared peace in Hyrule than trouble once again stalked the land."
Tenuous Harmony, could you imagine if they dropped a line like this in Creating a champion? The tumblr side of the fandom would go fucking nuts with that info like OHHHHH SHIT WAS GOING ONNNNNN
This was ALL on the offical Nintendo Zelda website back when oot was the big game out, we have this cuz someone saved it to the wayback, THIS SCREENSHOT WAS FROM DECEMBER 14TH 2001, ABOUT A FULL YEAR AND A DAY UNTIL WIND WAKER WAS RELEASED IN JAPAN. THAT'S INSANE RIGHT???? ‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
And then it all probably got deleted once wind waker became the new thing!!! Or when they wanted to modernize and deleted it!!! THAT SUCKS RIGHT????
And what's worse is that it introduces some new info and also clarifies something. Hey you know when I made that post like damn Darunia racist as hell
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"Warfare and strife became common in Hyrule, as the armies of the Zora marched on the Hylians. The Gorons fought the Gerudo."
NO WHERE IN THE GAME THE LEGEND OF ZELDA OCARINA OF TIME IT SAYS THIS, IT DOES NOT STATE THERE WAS CONFLICT BETWEEN THE GORONS AND GERUDO.....LIKE DIN GET YA KIDS.....IM LOOKING EVERYWHERE FOR SOMETHING I MUST OF MISSED.
But Like oh hey a fucking explanation to why he just fucking says that, I figure it was cuz of Ganondorf trying to almond mom all of them or that he kept talking to the King and well.....Navi already showed the GENERAL reaction to the Gerudo in castle town.
it went from oh hes just racist to dARUNIA AND GANONDORF HAVE HISTORY????
But the interesting one is why did thy Zora "marched on the Hylians."
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Like sitting here like, I know a comic made in Germany shouldn't be a be all end all in shit I knew it never was and it would like. If you put this in warrior cats canonicoty categorization would be considered lower down supplementary material dubious canon, but their are things in the comic AND the Himekawa manga that behinds some behind the scenes actions given that LINK'S MOM HAS A MOSTLY CONSISTENT DESIGN WHAT THE HELLLLLLLL. And I always thought the Goron Zora war thing was stupid but Nintendo then had that out on their website, what the hell was going ON.
Because idk i didnt think much of Zora De Bon XVI and the Hyrulien King's relationship but
Now a days the Zelda website is much different and does not have lore pages like this anymore, it's more like a summary of the timeline. But yeah actually Nintendo approved shit, Hylian/Zora war.
Hyrule is progressing, its just going slowly, Hyrule is not AS stifled by its monarchy or a lack of integration during TP because Hyrule IS integrating, is people's are intermingling like is hasn't before during this game.
And this isn't even to get started on the E3 demo of Twilight princess that the trip that Link is supposed to take at the beginning of the game was to be the representative of Ordon at the "Hyrule summit
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and Hyrule is described in a VERY specific way
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Kingdom of Hyrule and neighboring realms? like theyre all not under the crown? so like???? FUN, that didn't end up making it in the game. the dailouge that is, But the remints is still there in the way the game is made up, like how OoT is built off is civil war bones
actually funny, Navi just got me screenshots of the way the dialouge was changed here
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Like stuff clearly changed during the demo and finished game, I should of been touching more on the intricacies of how like shit was just change for no reason sometimes but uh....
But maybe @rawliverandgoronspice would want to one day like about games industry stuff if you ever want to 😭 I know you're super passionate on this and I wish I like even off hand mentioned something about how like TP is also effected by how games are made but I didn't and I'm a fool but games are complicated as hell and that post you made talking a bit about it was fun ya know 👉👈 and the Beta of Tp changes a LOT of stuff, one Rusl really is like a brother to link in the way he messes with him, it actually makes some weird Nintendo licensed shit saying hes like a big brother to Link made WAYYYYY more since with the Beta in mind, but....that also mean they tried to keep the big bro vibes....but then put the dad ones in there too like.....uh...did..someone not change his summary anywhere?
that was my big thing i wanted to talk about, navi's already touched on everything else i just think the parallels here between the Goron quest between OoT and TP changes in such a nice way.
And like this doesn't get into other shit about TP, like if we wanna deep dive into shit ya don't gotta do it by twisting the story, like I was going and talking to @blackautmedia to ask with some help when it came to like.......god idk what i even said anymore i was going a mile a minute. He wants to write his own thing on Twilight princess so im not gonna step on his toes but he has recommended Arabs and Muslims in the Media: Race and Representation after 9/11 by Evelyn Alsultany, the link I provided here is too her website and her page on the book this link here is from her own site that has a pdf of a part American Quarterly with a paper by the same name.
Anyways i wanna reflex for a moment cuz ive been up for hours finishing this because my brain wont stop unless i do. But the thing that by all means started this, was not your reblog linking me and Navi to your essay, or that there is 2 versions i found out where the paper published one had a lot more context to why you wrote your tumblr post the way you did, Navi helped me get the parts that were cut, please realize removing these does not remove the sentiment from the essay, its baked in.
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fanfic, its a popular Fan interpretation that there was fighting between the Gerudo and Hylians after Ganondorf was caught trying to take the triforce, but this is not stated to of happened in the lore itself or even has evidence to back it up other then the Implications of Arbiter's grounds theory
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UGHHHH AND THIS AGAIN "Twilight Princess Delivers a subtle yet poignant protest against neoliberal discourses of empire reflected in the rhetoric of heroism inform the geopolitical movements of Japan throught the twentieth century"
WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOUT......
i dont mean this in a stupid ass way, im saying where the hell was about the protest thing, wait i really shouldt take from the published one cuz you actually dumbed down the line for tumblr
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anyways again, where, Navi made it clear enough with her own post that, no, the way that Ganondorf is animated has no sympathy for him until the light is literally leaving him. Hell Twilight princess inst very kind to the gerudo either given that the only thing said about them is that they were thieves and nothing more. Like somehow OoT is more empathetic to the Gerudo, it doesn't just call them thieves, it aint great its not even good its just a bad portrayal of a people, and yet somehow OoT is willing to show the Gerudo in a neutral light at points then TP ever did.
but the reason i decided to just throw down a post is cuz i was pissed that you went after Ezlo for reblogging ME and NAVI's posts and purposefully misunderstood their fuckin wind waker post about ZELDA YOUTUBERS
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dude you had them getting genuinely harassed by people with 0 reading comprehension that thinks a snarky reply to a tumblr post means its 100% correct. Webbed. Site.
anyways, I hope people don't take this as a right or wrong way to interpret a piece of work, as stated before, I read your essay, navi read your essay, you changed parts of Twilight Princess to get to the conclusion of you paper...And im gonna be real but it's kinda crazy that you're using post colonial melancholia for this when it's got some.....well something like idk i need someone to do a full ass review because there are point where i gently raise an eyebrow im gonna be real. but also like
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like how do you read his book and then miss out on this, one of your whole big aruments is that hyrule is stagnate and not multi cultural and i had to grab screenshots and Navi had to get shit from the game.
like damn, do yall ever uh feel a strange sadness when dusk falls? i do. Idk this is one of the first and last times Nintendo ever delt with Ganondorf with some form a sympathy for him, cuz we got the dragon explosion in totk its like oh he's turbo evil now and he exploded you exploded him and yet the Gerudo probably still gotta pay for his shit from a billion years ago anyways idk idk idk pot shots at totk again.
I know you dug around a little for that post, and I understand from the numerous people that dmed me about that, you probably went on making an essay on their post so you could sound smart again.
And to be clear, I was told to drop some shit i was about to say about you because no one wants to start fandom drama, neither do I truly and any jab on the post itself would just be rude. people change and some people only learn to shut the hell up, so we'll keep it at that. I just hope you really don't truly recognize some of these people you started shit with.
So yeah tldr, uh.....idk, im going in for an autism screening in a month
also me watching the ending to windwaker cuz i wanted to say something about stong endings TP fans im sorry But Wind waker's ending hits no matter what best sequal to OoT thats isnt Majora's mask
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The History of Light and Shadow
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At the end of Twilight Princess, Ganondorf delivers one of his most memorable lines, “The history of light and shadow will be written in blood.” He is not wrong. As the player has witnessed over the course of Link’s adventure, Hyrule is haunted by ruins and ghost towns, a mere shadow of what it once was. The landscape is filled with numerous sites of past violence and empty spaces visibly marked by decay and wasted potential.
When Zelda tells Link and Midna that “these dark times are the result of our deeds,” she is referring to specific historical acts of imperialistic aggression. Hyrule established hegemony over its outlying territories by crushing the rebellions against its advances, but the kingdom has suffered from cultural stagnation as a result. Without the dynamic diversity symbolized by Ganondorf, Hyrule finds itself in economic and political decline, isolated from any contact with the world beyond its shrinking borders.
As a representative of a marginalized group of people who have been attacked and driven from their homes, Ganondorf is a tangible manifestation of the horrors of imperialism. He must be defeated, but doing so does not address the underlying problems that have resulted in Hyrule’s decline. I therefore want to argue that Twilight Princess uses Ganondorf to deliver a subtle yet poignant protest against the discourses of empire reflected by the dualistic “light and shadow” rhetoric of heroism that has resulted in tragedy and regret.
Keep reading
#oughhhhhh#oghhnkn eepy time yeah never agian#i have a whole thing about the triforce i wanted to say all this shit because of corruption and power but im so tired and ucked up what if#draw like crazy tomorrow or something like oh hbhbgb but uhhhhhh anyways anyways#now that i dont ffeel like i goot wAIT THE CHAINS BREAKING MAMA DIDNT RAISE A QUITTER#but like idk i dont like fightig or anything online i was just so??????????????? when Ezlo got hit for no reason like hi dont do that they#werent apart of this like#idk maybe im just a little venomus rn too but i also uh....would not be mkaing repeat posts where you wax academic about post colonial#ghosts but can reblog more then 8 posts for palestine in over a year??? like thats mean to say but with the context of Ori....#yeesh#idk bad look. there are real people to care about and this is why i dont wanna do internet discourse no more#its just stupid as hell and i have become SOOOOO normal#god lets hope i didnt eave lose ends i look ill rn ive been up over uh..........36 hours for some ungodley reason#wasnt even writing this the whole time i was clotecting eggs and laying down some diatematious earth for these birds#oh and then i get like.....IM GONN DRAW GANONDORF#I GOT AN ASK ABOUT HIM AND HES BEEN ROTATING IN MY HEAAADDDDDD#OOOOOOOO DORFFYDOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO#Anyways back to my shit i will hopefull never be this mean again because its fucking exausting#but like bunch of dudes in your dms like LOOK AT THIS and you go oh YEESH i am so sorry i was a teen when that happened#well anyways im gonna be doing my little tasks and stuff tomorrow cuz#AS I SAID THE CHAINS! I CAN FINALLY KRILL MYSELF (srimp dinner)#one of these days i need to designn this fursona i have in my head and post it#i got so many things to dooooooooo and yet#alright well that was a waste of time#maybe ill come back to this and point at myself like you should of grabbed sunset perril by the throat about the wold cock thing#okay it was average it wasnt even Terato i wanted to SCREAM#this is not normal right? dude come on get weird with that shit#oh shit i should play bloodborne agAIN WAIT IS ELDENRING CO OP A THING#oh i would FUCK SO SEVERLY IN THERE#I May get webfishing soon but after i do some stuff
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 7 hours ago
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For the first time since they saved the world, since Steve carried Eddie out of hell, and their bat bites had healed, Eddie was finally hanging out with Steve without impending doom hanging over their heads. Robin was also there as she didn't want to miss Steve cooking, and Eddie didn't blame her.
"Holy fucking shit!" Eddie yelled, slamming down his fork. "Fucking marry me."
Steve blinked at him, blushing, and his mouth fell open. He quickly closed it and smiled.
"Okay!"
"Oh! I'll go get the book!" Robin exclaimed, clapping her hands as she ran off.
"Book?" Eddie asked. "What? What's going on?"
Robin soon came back with a large white binder with a lock on it. She slammed it on the table and pulled out a key from under her shirt, unlocking it.
"This is Steve’s wedding book. As his best man, I hold the key," Robin said.
"Wait, hold on, that wasn't a real - ," Eddie started to say.
"Ooh, some of these were definitely written before me. That's definitely Baby Steve’s handwriting. . . Ooh, I can just imagine little Stevie putting a white sheet over his perfect hair," Robin said. "So, Spring, Fall, Summer, or Winter?"
"I was thinking Fall-ish," Steve said. "Near the end of August, maybe in September. Not too cold, not too hot."
Robin closed her eyes and held a pen in the air. Where did the pen come from?
"August 30th! I feel it! Perfect day!" Robin exclaimed.
"Wait, just a goddamn minute! What are you doing?!" Eddie shrieked.
"Planning your wedding to Steve, duh," Robin said, rolling her eyes. "Now, Steve, are you sure about the groom?"
"Yeah," Steve said, grinning. "He's funny, very cute, and good with kids. Yeah, I'll take him."
"You like men?!" Eddie asked.
"Duh, babe, keep up. He's already told you this," Robin said.
"Fucking when?!" Eddie asked.
"In the hospital," Steve replied.
"When I was on painkillers?!" He asked.
"You still want Dustin to be the flower girl?" Robin asked Eddie.
"Oh, shit, that actually would be hilarious- no, nope, no way! This isn't happening!" Eddie yelled.
"Did you ask Steve to marry you?" Robin asked.
"Well, yes, but - "
"Did he say yes?"
"Again, yes, however - "
"Then you're engaged. Congratulations," Robin said.
"Ooh, we have enough money in the budget for weddings 2, 5, and 8!" Steve explained, looking over her shoulder.
"When I said that Steve should marry me, I wasn't -," Eddie said.
"Can you think of a reason why you shouldn't marry Steve?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't even know if I like men! I like women!" Eddie shrieked, running his hands over his face.
"You said something different in the hospital," Steve said.
"You mean, when I was on painkillers?!" He asked. "You're fucking with me. You guys are fucking with me."
"Babe, you seem stressed out by all this wedding planning," Steve said, taking his hand.
"I am VERY stressed out," Eddie said.
"Just let me and Robin handle it. I have been planning my wedding since I was like five, and trust me, I have never been a fan of big weddings, so it's going to be low-key and tasteful," Steve said, squeezing his hand.
"This is illegal," Eddie said weakly and in disbelief.
"Yeah, like none of us have ever done anything illegal," Steve rolled his eyes. "A marriage is more than just a piece of paper. Besides, I don't want the government at my wedding anyway."
"Fuck, yeah, me neither," Eddie said, shaking his head. "This is crazy!"
"Look, Eddie, I know this is sudden, and I know how scary it is to deal with all of this as well as speed running through a sexuality crisis. It's been a couple of months, but there were days where I sat by your bedside, hoping you would wake up, and when you did, I realized that I wanted to wake up next to you every morning," Steve said softly, rubbing his thumb. "I want to hear every single rant, even the ones where you're being as asshole. I love you, and if you really don't want to do this, then I'll back down."
Eddie looked into Steve’s hazel eyes, swallowing thickly as he imagined being married to him and waking up with him every day. He already knew that Steve could handle how chaotic he could be, how much he loved the kids despite his loud protests, and he remembered all the talks about their asshole fathers who basically abandoned them. Eddie remembered waking up in the hospital and seeing Steve’s relieved red rimmed eyes. He knew without a doubt that Steve was a partner that he could depend on.
"Okay! I've decided that I'm just going to let this happen!" Eddie said, throwing up his hand. "But I can't be domesticated! I refuse!"
"Wouldn't have it any other way," Steve grinned.
"Also, during one of the dances, we're playing Metallica!" He yelled.
"Done!"
Steve leaned over the table and kissed Eddie, who didn't waste a second kissing him back. Yeah, he liked it, and he wasn't ever going to kiss anyone else. On some level, he had known that as soon as he had slammed Steve against the wall of that boathouse.
"Oh my God! I'm marrying Steve Harrington!"
TWO DAYS LATER. . .
Eddie was sprawled out on the couch in his brand new living room when Wayne came in, back from his fishing trip. Eddie frowned as he tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing.
"So, how'd the dinner with Steve go?" Wayne asked.
"Well, the food was so good that I asked Steve to marry me, and he said yes," Eddie said. "It's on August 30th, save the date."
"You're hilarious, son," Wayne said, rolling his eyes. "You should be a comedian."
Suddenly, Steve burst out of the kitchen, looking flustered.
"Okay, I decided to be the bigger person here. I'm going to invite my parents to the wedding," Steve said. "If they don't come, they don't come. Hopper's already agreed to walk me down the aisle. Oh, hey, Wayne. I hope you don't mind, I wanted to cook for my fiancé and my future father in law. How was the fishing trip?"
Wayne stared at him, blinking at Steve and then at Eddie. Wayne sighed, shaking his head.
"Not a goddamn bite. Waste of a trip," Wayne said.
"Damn," Steve said and looked at the kitchen. "I have to check on the food. Sorry. I want to hear more about it!"
"Smells good, son!" Wayne yelled and plopped down on the couch next to Eddie.
"You accepted that pretty quickly," Eddie said.
"You can't do better than Steve. He went to hell and back for you. He never left your side. . .he loves you, and I can't ask for a better partner for my boy. . .speaking of why aren't you in there helping your fella?" Wayne asked.
"He kicked me out," Eddie pouted.
"You almost took my head off with a skillet!" Steve exclaimed.
"I nearly took him out, and he still wants to be with me," Eddie sighed happily and tucked his head into Wayne's shoulder. "By the way, when you walk me down the aisle, you can't let me fall, you know how I am."
"I would never let you fall."
Eddie smiled. Despite everything that happened, that's still happening. . .Eddie was happy, and he was getting married to the most wonderful guy in the entire world. Suddenly, Eddie sat up.
"Oh, no," Eddie said.
"What?"
"We told Dustin and the kids, but I didn't think to tell Ronnie," Eddie gasped.
"You mean, your best friend since you were eight?" Wayne asked.
"Yeah, I am in deep - "
Suddenly, the front door slammed open, and Ronnie Ecker stood there in all her long-legged glory.
"You're getting married to Steve Harrington?!" She asked. "And I had to hear about it from a 12 year old?!"
"He's 14, actually," Eddie said casually. "How was the trip from New York?"
Eddie suddenly remembered the thing Robin had reminded him to do: don't forget to tell your platonic soulmate.
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tkwrites · 2 days ago
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Okay I'm done now and heading to bed, one last question.
Can you name a favourite fic for each of the boys?
Hi my Lovely,
There are quite a few of your asks I haven't answered, but please know I'm not ignoring them. They'll just take a little more time to respond to.
I can tell you my favorite fics, though:
Matthew Tkachuk - Back To You because it's such a complete story. I love the way he and Jessie meet, lose each other, and then are thrown together by fate again. I also feel like I really captured that sassy side of Matthew's personality in this fic, which I was really worried about at the time I was writing it. This is also the story that I think would be easiest to flesh out into a full length novel.
Nico Hischier - I love all the parts of his story for different reasons, but I think It Doesn't Matter Part II is my favorite. I had actually written the whole sequence of nude sketches for another character, but ended up scrapping the whole story because I couldn't find any real conflict for them to resolve. When I realized I could use it for Nico and Lena if she was an artist, I was thrilled and got to work rewriting it for them. In the end, the only things that stayed the same were 5 of the 6 poses. Getting into and out of them changed, as did the characters relating to each other during them. I love all the longing and awkward tension between them in this piece, as well as how they finally end up confessing their love for each other. Finally, the culmination of all of their longing into the final sex scene? Chefs kiss.
Quinn Hughes - This one is so hard. I've written so much about Quinn and Sarah and I love all of the pieces for one reason or another. If I had to pick three favorites, they would be:
1). Five Days of Joy because I'm so proud of this fic. It took SO long to write, but I love the way it turned out. I love that we go through so many consecutive days and such a gamut of emotions with Sarah and Quinn.
2). The Second Time is Better because I love the portrayal of a more real first time. One of the things that drives me batty about romance novels is how the characters get together and always seem to have this instantly amazing sexual connection. No room for human failing or first time jitters. In reality, it takes time to build sexual chemistry and connection, and I went into this piece wanting to show at least some of that.
and 3). Second Nature because I think it has the prettiest prose. I still think this passage is some of the best writing I've ever done:
This was ultimate flirting in Quinn’s book. Something he knew he could do. When someone wanted to talk about music, or art or classic cars, he was a fish out of water. But talking hockey? He could do that all day long. Convincing someone to like the sport he loved so much? There wasn't a more ideal situation. 
“Oh, good,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him. 
This was a perfect evening. Casual and comfortable. Cooking for someone he - liked, and kissing her whenever he wanted, taking no worry of who might be watching. 
Letting himself get swept up in the kiss, he slid his hands over her hips and tried to commit her scent to memory. No matter what happened - though he was pretty sure nothing bad was ever going to happen with Sarah - he wanted to remember this. She smelled like a dream he’d had as a boy. Like vanilla and warm skin and fireside, summer nights. It was an outlandish notion, but he couldn’t shake it. 
All her life, Sarah had read stories about star-crossed, fated lovers thrown together by chance and circumstance and serendipity. But those were all just stories. Even when her grandpa talked about meeting her grandma - like they were always meant to be together, and just had to find each other to make it happen - it seemed like folklore. A tall tale he spun to make their love story seem more epic. 
After writing all this out, I realized perhaps you meant favorite writing from other authors. Let me know if that's something you'd like me to answer.
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venerawrites · 2 days ago
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good morning/evening! first time requesting kinda nervous/hj LMAO
I wanted to know if I could get headcanons for Sasuke, Neji and Kakashi when they find the person they're in love with (but not in a relationship with yet) crying and how they'd react/comfort them and stuff!
author's note: hi, lovely anon! I love your idea for headcanons and I realized how crazy it is that I never wrote any of the characters' reactions to their s/o crying, despite having written so many stuff for them already 😭 I really hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting! <3
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➤ Sasuke
How to say this delicately...
He SUCKS at comforting!
Given his stoic and reserved nature and the fact that growing up he was either a) by himself; or b) surrounded by criminals, the only crying he had to deal with before was the one of his fangirls and he NEVER really cared to comfort them.
So when he saw his s/o crying for the first time it was both awkward and stressful for him.
What was he supposed to say? He didn't want to pressure his s/o to talk about things if you were not yet ready to do so, but at the same time he was dying to know what or WHO made them cry (so he can take care of the problem ASAP!).
He is also not sure what is appropriate? A hug? Holding their hand?
He would probably reluctantly pat their back a few times if his s/o decide to hug him, before removing his hand and just keep it in his lap.
Great listener - his s/o can ramble on and on, and on, and on and he will sit there and listen to EVERY SINGLE word coming out of their mouth.
Not great at giving any advice tho - he would probably just reply with "hm" or "don't be sad".
It's so bad I want to give him a zero, but that is not possible so I give him a 1. (1/10)
➤ Neji
Not that different from Sasuke tbh, but still SIGNIFICANTLY better.
Raised with the idea of having to be stoic and keep his emotions in check, he was never good with his own feelings, let alone those of the people around him.
On top of that the only person he has actually seen crying is Rock Lee, but then again he is often crying, so Neji never actually bothered to comfort him or even ask what is wrong.
Seeing his s/o crying, however, was a completely different experience and he went through a few different stages.
The first one was panic. What was wrong? Why are they crying? Did somebody hurt them?
He would not shy away from asking questions and try to get more information about what or who had upset them.
The second stage is annoyance. If it was a person that caused his s/o to be upset, he would definitely make sure to have a word with them later!
The final stage is gentleness. Neji is a very gentle man, despite his reserve attitude. He would probably not get very physical (unless his s/o is the one initiating the contact), but he will sit close to them and provide a shoulder for them to cry on.
The type of man to give his s/o a philosophical advice and tell them that things "will be alright, because fate always have its own plans".
4.5/10 overall. He is not naturally gifted at comforting, but he still tries hard.
➤ Kakashi
King of Empathy; Emperor of Great Life Advices and the Knight in Shining armour that everyone needs <3
Just kidding... but still, Kakashi is actually great when it comes to comforting his s/o!
First of all, he is a great listener and also knows how to delicate question them without pressuring them or making them uncomfortable.
He would hold his s/o in his arms and let them cry away their feelings without making them initiate the contact first. He would just do what feels right in the moment (which is to hold his s/o close and protect them from the world!).
Gives great advices! In fact, he would know exactly what to say so his s/o realises that they are not alone and they can always rely on him.
Honestly, I think his reaction and next actions would heavily depend on how upset his s/o actually is.
If it is about something minor, he would try to crack a few jokes till he sees a small smile playing on their lips. He would then go: "Here we go! I knew you had it in you to smile. Now let's go and grab some lunch, hm? My treat."
If it something serious, he will just hold them in his arms and encourage them to let out all of their fears, tears and frustration. He doesn't mind spending the whole night comforting them and would make sure to bring them home safe after they fall asleep in his arms.
Would probably give his s/o a gift a few days or weeks later just to make them a little bit happier.
100/10 (but are we even surprised, when everything about Kakashi is 100/10?!)
cc artwork: John Dunham
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0ciestiel0 · 3 days ago
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Brilliant Minds ep 7 musings:
5 mins in and Wolf is already backseat surgeon-ing Nichols. “That makes sense” yes wolf. Nichols is a very good surgeon. He knows what he’s doing.
They really wanna hit us in the feels this episode with Roman. Everything with him and Alex was just heartbreaking given the outcome. But Roman and Alex did get to be together for Romans last moments as heartbreaking as that is it’s also what both of them needed. They got to say goodbye. And most importantly Roman was finally heard after all this time and got to communicate his wishes. Again heartbreaking. But the storytelling was *chefs kiss*
Not Wolf and Nichols having a cute lil awkward moment in the doorway before giving Roman and Alex time alone. Like what was that look my dudes 👀 come on now.
Nichols giving Wolf a great lil pep talk, gonna need to watch that again a few more times. “I admire that about you.” You like him and everyone but Wolf can see it.
Letting Roman die at Wolf’s house is just so. EMOTIONAL. The storytelling in this episode is really top tier, even if it’s trying to hurt me.
Simon really coming off like an ass this episode. So is his mother. Wolf was the one most opposed to letting Roman die and she had the audacity to think he didn’t try hard enough? And of course it came down to hospital publicity and investors. While yes, that’s important, that technology could be life-saving/changing for all kinds of patients, Wolf is still absolutely right that doctors have an obligation to their patients. It seems highly unethical to force Roman to continue care he doesn’t want. And Simon and his mother KNOW THAT.
The kiss between Wolf and Nichols came earlier than I expected, I expected the end of the season earliest, but I’m ok with the way it happened and boy was it my favorite scene. Ok but Nichols lil pep talk is a close second. Loved seeing Wolf finally choose to let someone in, to choose wanting to be happy with someone. Bonus seeing Nichols follow Wolf as he pulls away from the kiss and then Wolf having the audacity to look surprised, like my dude YOU kissed HIM. Why are YOU surprised?
I’m sure they will have an obstacle or two since they didn’t go the slow burn route (sorry but slow burn means like 4 seasons minimum of build up not 7 episodes) but since ep two it was clear Wolf/Nichols were being written as love interests.
I wonder how different their relationship experience is between Wolf and Nichols. Teddy Sears mentioned a more causal/party style in an interview when talking about Nichols but we really haven’t had that shown in canon aside from Dustin from abs class and Wolf it seems just avoided relationships of most kinds. Seeing them navigate something with feelings will be interesting, since both may lack experience in that department.
I still need to know what happened to Wolf’s dad. Is he dead? Or in some long term car facility? The camping flashback makes me think dead but he told Roman he hadn’t seen his dad in a long time making it sound like he’s alive. I’m hoping we get that answer by the end of the season.
Also heartbreaking moment, Van learning Erika has feelings for Jacob. Like my dude really thought she liked him back. I was rooting for him tbh. Dana looked like she was picking up on a little bit of that.
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louisferrignojr · 2 days ago
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gotta say that i disagree that nobody fights for buck. in s5 taylor said it best: buck's life is full of meaningful relationships, actually. every person of the firefam would fight for and support buck. he is and will never be alone again in his life, especially during the hard times (which they reiterated in 8x05). meanwhile, we see thus being contrasted with tommy not having any kind if support system like that. the same seemed to be the case for taylor. i know people want tommy to fight for this, and i agree that i definitely need him to check his trauma and fears to work this out with buck. but buck is the main character that has had seasons of alleged development. he died and came back, got clarity, was supposed to finally feel good in his own skin, worked out his childhood trauma with his parents in therapy, formed a support system, now discovered he is bisexual and felt free with it. and now tommy is the only one who should grovel? i get the idea but. evan buckley is the character we have seen grow and learn. i want him to put in the work as well. look at how he fought for his job when he thought he would lose it forever. THAT is what i need from him rn. if he is just giving this up with a shrug, then i don't want bucktommy in canon. we have seen tommy taking care of buck and supporting him in all his shenanigans. i need to see that buck is absolutely serious about this and ready to fight for it. if he doesn't, he still hasn't found his true love or still doesn't know what he wants in life. i am bored by this. we have been here multiple times already. do something else with evan buckley finally or just allow him to be a bachelor forever.
okay yes buck has meaningful platonic and familial relationships.
no romantic partner has fought for him. abby ghosted him because of her own issues even though she's a fucking grown ass woman, ali got a reality check and broke up with him when he was in recovery after nearly dying, which okay, fair enough. and while i believe taylor did nothing wrong in reporting the jonah story, the narrative wants us to think she prioritised her work, and she did betray buck's trust which, again, buck wanted to protect his firehouse (which is his family) so he wasn't being objective. reporters exposing scandals within govt orgs that are supposed to protect the public is not a bad thing, actually. the only time he's broken up with someone first is natalia and we were told it's because she was obsessed with his died-and-came-back experience.
and listen. i love tommy more than anything. but buck is still the main character. we're going to see buck going through the breakup, not tommy. we're not going to get much about tommy's past. we're not going to get any scenes with tommy and another character if buck isn't also there. you remember karen going to chimney and them day drinking together because they thought hen was being unfaithful (again)? i wish we could see tommy and chimney talking about their buckleys. but the way the show got rid of all minor characters and consistently treats LIs as nothing more than LIs... i'm not hopeful. we'll get one scene with tommy's Explanation and i'm not even hopeful it's gonna be well written (but i'm sure lou will be serving. god. they wrote such a shitty break up scene and he fucking ATE.)
yeah, buck fucked up by jumping the gun and asking tommy to move in with him when he couldn't even say the i love you, and i hope this will be addressed in future eps. but tommy immediately ended the relationship because he Knows Better and left buck heartbroken. this is what happened on the show. the average viewer isn't doing ten layers of analysis to understand tommy's perspective, nor should they have to. i love the metas, i'm digging into tommy's headspace in my next fix it fic, but this is still the dumb weewoo show.
i don't think tommy needs to grovel, i don't think he's the Bad Guy in this story, i have a lot of empathy for tommy and so does the GA! they're not mad at tommy, they want him back! they want bucktommy back! and i want them both to fight for each other, to apologise and admit to their fuck ups and admit how much they care about each other and that they want to be each other's forever love! i want them to say i love you!
but buck is still the protagonist in this story and i don't want to see him running back to someone who broke up with him in such a way that had him asking "wait, did you just break up with me?" because again, this is what happened on our screens. i want tommy making the first move, opening the door for reconciliation, showing that he knows he made a mistake out of fear from his past trauma, for buck to then know he is wanted, that tommy came back for him, and then put in the effort to fight for them.
hope this makes sense. and as always, for people reading this - this is not the space for you to bash on buck's previous LIs, please take it elsewhere.
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ritualove · 2 days ago
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Silas admittedly got a little bit bashful again when Shira teased him again. He couldn't help but laugh as he watched her perform, him being the sole audience memeber. He liked watching her perform, even if it was at his expense, frankly he kind of liked that it was at his expense, he wouldn't admit it though. When she said she wouldn't mind infecting him, it made his heart skip a beat. His face definitely went a strong shade of red, Shira's face in her hands being his saving grace. Seeing her laugh so openly gave Silas a strange feeling, almost like a sickly feeling but nice? Oh god, that might actually just be butterflies. "How could that have come out right!?" Silas said, laughter finally leaving his blushed cheeks. He was mesmerized by how she moved, especially when she was laughing. The way she hid her face in her hands, looked through the gap in her fingers, and put them in her lap. She moved in such a unique way, it was almost hypnotizing. Silas took another, smaller, sip from the glass, and offered Shria another sip from the glass. He wasn't sure whether or not she wanted it, but he would be remiss if he didn't ask. His head tilted at her statement of honesty, he couldn't help but smile, "You also shouldn't tell lies." He said, in a fun tone. Silas has definitely broken promises in his life, more than he would like to admit.
He felt relief as she reaffirmed that his company dosen't concern her. Shira's soft tone, like a surprise to herself, even got Silas a little hung up. He has been looking at her so closely, examining her every light movement, or the way the light touches her soft skin, but he hasn't taken the chance to listen to the way she talks, or the way she breathes. Her voice sounded strange, in a good way, the only way he would be able to describe it is comforting. As she asked him what he was intrigued by, Silas actually had to pause as he considered his answer, a deep perplexion spreading across his face. He found his answer, and recited it in the appropriate noir movie narrator tone. "Probably the femme fatale thing, sitting on a window sill, looking out the window, smoke on your lips. You look like someone who has a secret, a secret that I can't help but want to know." He was a little impressed at what he came up with, he should have written it down, but it wasn't exactly the truth. It was a performance that he said to her, and she deserved better than that. She deserved to know his honest, uneditted thoughts. He leaned in, close to her, his head past her head so he could whisper in her ear, "In all honesty I have no idea what about you intrigues me, but I want to find out." He pulled back, giving her her space back, the smell of Shira's hair leaving him with a buzz, a second hand high.
Silas raised an eyebrow, "A photographer?" He smiled, like he just found out a clue to a mystery, some break in a decade old cold case. He's been photographed countless times, for magazines or the back of his books. He dosen't think he's ever had some want to take his picture, at least without getting paid, it felt nice, especially being told it in a whisper. He couldn't help but move ever so slightly closer to her, her proximity more comforting than the sound of her voice. Her closeness something he has grown to desire. "I'd love for you to take my picture, as long as my clothes stay on." He paused, eyes going upwards in thought, "Actually I'd love for you to take my picture either way." Silas watched her closely, a mischievous grin forming on his face. Just a silly joke, even if he was being completely honest.
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Shira couldn't help herself but laugh with him, stars in her eyes as she shot him a curious but teasing look, one eyebrow raised. "Oh, you want my cooties? Specifically? You're right, very different. My mistake." She gave a mock bow, silently repenting; but her gaze remained on him, lashes batting in a deliberately slow pace. "I guess, I wouldn't mind infecting you, then." It sounded much better in her head than it did out loud. A deep blush spread across her cheeks and she buried her face in her hands as a series of her own giggles erupted. "Oh, god, that came out wrong." Came out wrong but the sentiment was still the same. She grimaced into the space between her fingers before she placed her hands back into her lap, smiling at him wryly. "Thank you very much, Silas." Shira said, making sure to match her tone to the way he had said her name just a beat before, lingering and sweet. She didn't hide her appreciation, relaxing back against the sill as she watched him help her make the content's of the cup disappear. "I've never made a promise that I didn't keep." Her tone deliberate. Almost a tease, a challenge wrapped in affection.
She had noticed too, the way he looked at her when she was in the midst of speech. Not in a shallow way, much like one would go through the motions a la muscle memory. Rather that he was not only listening to her words, but assessing the true meaning’s that were nestled in the in-between’s; every gasp, hum and scrunch of her nose. It wasn't often that she saw that kind of sincerity. It exhilarated her and terrified her all the same, adrenaline pulsing and filling her with a warmth that spread throughout her chest. Shira had spent years trying to thicken up her skin so that she wouldn’t keep dripping blood all over everything she came in contact with that made her feel that kind of warmth. But in that moment, she wanted to shed that skin. Serpentine. A yearning that only increased the longer Silas peered at her. His carefully placed smile pulled her from the rest of her internal monologue, “To Portland!” she parroted, bringing her hand up to pretend to clink a glass against their shared one that sat in his hand. Even if she didn't think that it was wise for her to ever go back there; Shira still found herself thinking that Burnside might glow a little brighter if Silas were standing on it.
“No, no, no,” she quietly babbled, her hands waving in small, dismissive but friendly strokes “don’t be sorry, it’s okay. I don't mind.” And she really didn't mind; him looking at her like that. Even if it did make her more self aware. Shira pressed a palm back to the sill for a moment, trying to steady herself from a heartbeat so strong she swore she could feel it even in her toes; all numb and buzzing. “Pray tell, Silas,” she hummed — a soft, blithe tone that surprised even herself “what is it about me that is so intriguing to you?” Shira tilted her head to the side, her toes curling inside of her sneakers in anticipation of his answer; bated breath furling in her throat. “I find myself intrigued by you too.” Barely escaping amongst her own over thinking.
Suddenly; a thought. One that she couldn't stop from rushing to fruition, proverbial word vomit “I think I’d like to take your picture sometime.” Which only left her blushing even more than before. She wanted to evaporate, sure she was embarrassing herself now. “I mean, if you'd like that.” Shira quickly added, squaring her shoulders as she resumed her position leaning towards him, quickly growing fond of their hushed conversations and carefully placed nuance.
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thebluestbluewords · 2 years ago
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I'm Not Scared of What You're Gonna Tell Me
(~2k, Jaylos, TW for food issues/isle related food restriction. Seriously. This one is a little heavier than I usually write for tumblr.)
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“When did you last eat?” 
Carlos pulls himself out of the schematic he’d been mentally working on. It’s easier to focus on certain things (like the problem of where to put the extra wire in the blender he’s trying to reconstruct) when he’s got something to do with his hands, and even easier still to get absorbed in the mental work when he’s got someone there to watch his back. “What?” 
Jay makes a soft noise. He’s perching on the windowsill again, but at least he’s on the outside this time. It’s not that anyone in Hell Hall is going to come into the kitchen, but it’s safer to have an easy escape route. The last time he came inside they had to jam him into the kitchen closet when Jasper unexpectedly poked his head into the kitchen, and while the closet is great for storing things like the occasional rusty canned goods and unrotten potatoes they get sent over from the mainland, it’s not a great place for a human person to hide in, and the amount of dirt they had to try and clean up wasn’t worth the small increase in comfort that Jay gets from sitting inside the window rather than on the sill outside. “You’re always in here,” he says casually. “but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat anything you make. When did you last eat?” 
There’s a pile of walnuts sitting on the countertop, next to the cutting board. Carlos reaches over with his left hand and picks up a single broken nut. He pops it in his mouth. It’s small enough that it won’t be missed from the sauce. “Right now.”  
“Doesn’t count. C’mon.” 
Carlos gestures down at the fully loaded cutting board he’s still working with. At the bubbling pot he’s got sitting on the stove. At the unmentioned presence of his mother in the next room, drinking herself to death and waiting for her nonexistent servants to bring out dinner to her and the guests, who also don’t exist and probably wouldn’t want to stay for dinner regardless. The Isle is a bit lacking in ingredients, and tomato-walnut soup isn’t exactly the level of fine dining that Cruella’s high-society patrons would have been used to had they ever existed, much less now, when they definitely don’t and likely won’t ever exist again. 
Still. Even without servants, without ingredients, and without a hope of ever getting off the Isle of the Lost again, dinner must be served.  “I can’t leave,” Carlos explains patiently. “I have to be here until dinner’s done.” 
Jay rolls his eyes, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “C’mon outside for one minute. She won’t notice, I promise.” 
She will. She has before, even just for a moment, even when it’s just a second of fresh air because the smoke inside the house is making his lungs close up again. “She will.” 
Jay shifts again, restlessly. His is a body meant to be in motion. He’s not built for sitting still and watching like this, but he keeps coming by to do it despite the fact that he’s definitely got more interesting things to do with his night. It’s weirdly sweet of him to keep coming by just to sit on the windowsill and keep Carlos company while he attempts to scrape something together to feed his mother and her minions, but it’s also wholly unnecessary, and they both know it. “What if you just hop out here for a sec? No door opening and closing means no problem with the noise, right?” Jay offers, hopefully. 
“She’ll notice if the noise in here stops. I can’t leave until this is done–” Carlos gestures with his chin towards the pot bubbling on the stove, not stopping the smooth chopping motion he’s been practicing since he was probably too young to hold a knife. Red juice drips down the sides of his hands, coating them in the sticky mess that he’s going to have to wash off the cutting board and the entire counter later. Jay would probably lick it off, if Carlos would let him. “And she’s eaten and left me the dishes to clean. I can maybe steal a few minutes while I’m supposed to be washing up, but nothing before that.” 
Jay whistles through his teeth, the sound low and impressed. Or maybe not. Villains are villains no matter where they are, and just because Cruella has a house to maintain doesn’t actually make her worse than any of the other adults on the isle. “Damn. Tight leash much?” 
“You know it. So, you gonna stick around for…” Carlos hesitates. At least another forty minutes for the soup to be done, and then twenty minutes of coaxing his mother to put down her drink and actually eat, and then dinner and cleanup after that. “At least an hour and a half until I’m done?” 
Jay nods. “So long as you promise me you’ll eat something after that.” 
It’s one of the easiest promises that Carlos has ever made. “Sure thing. I’ll meet you in the treehouse once I’m done here.  I’ve got food in there that my mom doesn’t even know about, and it’s not even moldy this time.” 
“Sure,” Jay echoes back. There’s a weird furrow between his eyes that’s not usually there. “You have food up there?” 
“Yeah, I just said that.” Carlos says, letting a hint of the irritation he’s feeling bleed into his voice. He’s tired, and hungry, and the smell of the tomato soup is making his stomach ache. “What else do I need to repeat? Hour and a half, treehouse, we’ll both be there. You can hang out down here until then, but I can’t give you anything from the kitchen tonight, I’m sorry. There’s barely enough for my mom and her henchmen as it is, and if we take anything she’s going to notice and have my hide for it.” 
“I didn’t ask for anything,” Jay says, sounding irritated as well, even though he wasn’t just a moment ago. “I get it. You can’t share tonight.” 
It feels like they’re talking at odds with each other, which isn’t how talking with Jay usually feels, and it’s making Carlos more pissed off than he has any right to be. “I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I can’t give you anything from the kitchen. You can have whatever you want from my stash, you know that. It’s all up where it usually is. If you’re just here to take my food you can go up and eat already, you don’t have to wait for me to do it.” 
“I’m not going to leave you to starve down here while I go through your stash,” Jay insists, gesturing short and sharp and irritated. “Dude. I’m not that much of a dick. You deserve it more than me.”
Carlos doesn’t deserve anything, not until the food is done and his mom and her henchmen have had their fill. He cooks and cleans and survives on the scraps they don’t want, and that’s how it’s always been, and he’s fine. He’s got his treehouse and his machines, and the barrier that keeps him from dying outright from the hunger. He’s not like Jay, who steals all his meals himself and doesn’t get pushed around at school and isn’t afraid to tell people no when he doesn’t want to do something. 
“I–” Carlos huffs out a sharp breath, annoyed at the way things are going. “Whatever, man. Just do whatever you want.” 
A dark, sulky look passes over Jay’s face, and then he relaxes into his usual carefree expression. “Fine,” he says, letting whatever irritation he’s been carrying fade away into nothing. “I will.” 
Carlos breathes out a sigh of relief, and turns back to his pot, where the broth he’d made ages ago, back when he’d had a string of good luck with his machines and sold one of them for enough money to buy a whole chicken from the market, is bubbling away. They’d had a freezer up until about a day ago, when the stupidly old-fashioned thing broke down again in the first heat wave of the year, so now he’s using up the few things he’d had squirrelled away in there before they go bad. Or, worse. Not much makes it over to the isle before it goes bad, and the original broth had been made with some pretty questionable root vegetables, in addition to the chicken carcass that he’d saved after picking it clean. 
Jay clatters his way inside the window, and Carlos turns back to him, irritation faded but not forgotten. “What’re you doing.” he asks, and it’s not a question. “You can’t be inside when my mother comes in, remember?” 
“I know, chill the fuck out.” Jay says, leaning down to tuck his head through the open window. “I’m just helping you out for a sec.” 
There are only so many things that Carlos can worry about at once, and the whims of another teenage boy aren’t one of them. “Thanks.” 
“No problem,” Jay says, grinning, and presses their lips together. 
Carlos opens his mouth into the kiss on pure instinct. Sweetness blooms across his tongue, bitter and rich and complex all at once. Jay slips his tongue deeper, and the flavor spreads, somehow even sweeter than before as it melts and spreads deeper. It’s like nothing that Carlos has ever tasted before, and he’s kissed Jay a lot of times, in a lot of situations. It therefore stands to reason that this isn’t some new and previously unknown kissing ability that Jay’s developed, and is instead some rare treat that he’s chosen to share. Through kissing. 
Well then. 
Carlos tips his head back, going pliant and soft under the attention. The flavor is somehow hot, sweetness combining with the bitter bite of it and spreading to make his mouth feel warm and tacky with whatever the treat is. Jay nibbles at his lip, and Carlos obediently opens his mouth wider, so that Jay can slip more of his tongue inside, and– 
Oh. Deposit a soft chunk of something inside his mouth, something that tastes amazing and even more delicious when it’s not diluted by two people’s worth of spit and slick kissing messiness. 
Jay pulls back, one hand guiding Carlos’s chin up so that he closes his mouth properly around the treat, the other planted firmly on his hip, holding him upright. Gods, but it’s nice to have somebody around who knows exactly the ways that Carlos likes to be kissed, and also understands that the wobbly thing that always happens with his knees afterwards is fine and normal and just means he needs a second more support before being let go again. 
Gods. Carlos is a man (teenager. whatever.) of science, but a treat this good deserves the invocation of some sort of higher power, because there is no way that Jay got something this good on the isle without divine intervention. It’s soft and sweet while not being overpowering the way the usual boiled sweets they sometimes get over are, and the background flavor is somehow bitter like coffee without being like coffee, and it’s so good that Carlos doesn’t want to swallow the last little sliver of it and have it be gone forever. 
He does, because keeping a mouthful of sweet spit in his mouth forever would actually be disgusting, and opens his eyes to find Jay grinning at him. 
“It’s good, right?” 
Carlos nods. “It’s so good. How did–what is it?” 
Jay laughs. “It’s called dark chocolate. My dad got a case from one of the goblins, and he’s been trying to sell it without letting anyone know he has it. I got curious, and–” he gestures between them. “You’re the best cook I know, so I figured if anyone deserves to try it with me, it’s gotta be you.”
Carlos shouldn’t be greedy. He’s a– He’s a villain. He’s allowed a brief indulgence of greed. “Do you have more?” 
Jay pulls a paper-wrapped package out of his hip pocket. “Not much. I was gonna wait until later, but…” 
Carlos is still so hungry that the smell of cooking chicken broth and tomatoes is making him faintly nauseous, and the soup will have to be tended to soon, and his mother is still in the room just across the hall, and could come in at any moment, but. “I will literally suck your dick right here in this kitchen if you let me have more.” 
Jay laughs. “Dude. No dick sucking necessary. I brought it over here for you.” 
Carlos breathes in slowly, pulling the air in through his mouth. The flavor of the chocolate is still lingering on the back of his tongue, and he wants.  
“Give me an hour,” Carlos says slowly, letting the words drag over his tongue as he says them, imagining that they’re as sweet and delicious as the chocolate that Jay has waiting in the paper wrapper for them. “One hour. To finish this. And then I’ll meet you in the treehouse, and you can have whatever you want.” 
“Deal,” Jay whispers against his lips. “Don’t be late.”
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atopvisenyashill · 2 months ago
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do love how this is an asoiaf blog but i did not put either show in my top 10 this is the world we live in
#the only season that really compares to the book is season 1.#the rest even when they’re engaging have changed something that feels so central to the hook that i’m mad aksjd.#getting on my soap box#if iwtv s3 is good it may knock someone out. probably qaf.#bsg is p high up there i just think season 4 really suffered on pacing & the suspicious nature of who dies annoyed me.#veep is also very high up there tbh i need to rewatch it. the thing is. as we know. i am a romantic at heart and amy & jonah have my favorit#sitcom relationship. veep has genuinely one of the best finales to ever exist but i’m a sap.#and amy coming back to tell jonah that he made her realize she doesn’t actually have to expect the worst from life. oh my god.#also superstore >>> parks & rec >>> the office bc superstore never romanticized the hell of their job#amy quitting her corporate job when she realized she would never be able to make the changes she wanted within the system she was always#going to compromise too much and wind up like jeff. glenn reopening his dad’s hardware shop & specifically who goes w him & who stays w gina#at the store? it has what the other two lack which is characters that feel like they keep existing after you stop watching#BECAUSE the way they interacted with the world was so real and so much more realistic. amy can’t fix the system but she can find a job that#she doesn’t feel is so soul sucking. glenn may be choosing a harder path by reopening the hardware store but it’s the one that makes him#most fulfilled. gina just gets to make money and be bossy w people who do what they’re told. that rings so true to me.#i almost out bojack horseman in here too actually but once again i think the last season just needed to be a tad longer just like bsg.#also same issue w pitch as w bly manor - it’s an amazingly written season of tv but it’s ONE season of tv#big brother as always outsells yes i am hoping to tempt some of u into watching by posting dan & ian in the dog costume#i have that gif and the ‘sit’ scene saved on my phone always
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longagoitwastuesday · 2 months ago
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I actually like the last chapter. I think the ideas are very good. I have my qualms on how some things were managed, as I always do, but I think shonen authors get tangled in the expectations of a shonen to the point it jeopardises their writing, often even when they're not lacking in skills
#I think the nothingness‚ the absence‚ the moving on despite everything‚... is a good if heartbreaking idea#and we do see snippets of it throughout the entire manga‚ yet I think it is mostly lacking in execution#I like the quiet ways in which we see the characters mourn. How Megumi laughs at the letter‚#how Shoko muses about how Satoru should have let her take care of Geto's body‚ the faint smile when Megumi agrees‚#how Shoko quits smoking again‚ Yuuji giving this person hope and a second chance‚ making a reference to him not being executed‚#and giving Sukuna too a chance for him to take one day a different path#All those are very good ideas and all those are very moving quiet ways of grieving. But. It feels in general so lacking#There's so much of everything else in contrast‚ even things that have way less importance narratively than this most of the time‚#that it feels lacking. Especially with how one has to dig to find these things. There's so much that could have been done with the same idea#And done so much better. But the idea is good. The absences are good. The quiet presences are good.The nothingness is good if bitter and sad#But it could have been written better#I also think this ending with Yuuji apparently knowing about Sukuna‚ his lies‚ his little hint of softness‚ the potential second path‚...#makes even more believable why he'd try at all to offer him a second chance. And I love that Yuuji knows him and I love that he still...#leaves the door open for that second chance to occur at some point. Trusting that Sukuna would walk that other path next time#And I love that without openly acknowledging Gojo he demonstrates that he hasn't forgotten him in his acting#How he gives that guy a second chance‚ how he jokes about him not getting executed‚ how he wants to make sure people‚ 'problem children'‚#don't get left behind. He doesn't mimick Gojo in his power but in this flippant but caring aspect and thus he's not forgotten#I do like this. It's heartbreaking. Gojo's desire to be forgotten is bittersweet as it's in a way a desire for... normalcy and humanity#To be surpassed. It goes well with how Gege says Gojo can do anything and thus why he does nothing‚ not even hobbies‚#to leave something for the future generations and not being another wall in their achievements#Gojo's desire to be forgotten is in line with the constancy of his writing when it comes to being drunk on his status#and yet resentful of his loneliness. It's a mix of being left behind and not being left behind#For being left behind and forgotten would mean he is more like the rest. Just another step forwards#And he'd have done what he wanted to achieve. Sorcerers can't stop a long while to grieve but Yuuji takes his words and actions#into consideration and steps forwards. Does the same. Fulfills Gojo's expectations. Walks towards the future. And that's the legacy Gojo#wanted and not going down in history as a legend or the strongest. He was just a teacher. Like Yaga was. He was not even the principal#Just a teacher. His role‚ the role he chose for himself‚ has been fulfilled. Now all this could have done way better#Something of Yuta and Megumi given their dynamics with Gojo would have been good. But I guess Gojo's 'at least one' works well#with Yuuji being the one doing the work. Yuuji was also ontologically alienated since birth and still he too remained cheerful and flippant#despite being so lonely so I guess the final parallel is intentional. But it could have been managed better still. The idea is good though
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hauntingblue · 8 months ago
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Inept 8 year old boy dragon tries to save floating island is such a concept
#momo just tell him!!! you've done this before!!! yeahhh#'this roof ain't big enough for the both of us'#luffy just telling momo to throw him something too akdhakaj this is back to how he was with koby but it worked so...#just grow some balls man!!! if he can spit something so can you!! BITE HIM!!! AHEKAHQK HE DID IT!!!! YEAHHH!!!!#he drew blood omg.... hell yes..... just be careful he doesn't bite back#luffy's exposure therapy is so effective. worlds greatest psychologist i have been saying this.#also nekomamushi and inuarashi better not die. i am also saying this.#talking tag#watching one piece#episode 1050#me as baby chopper crying. actually and for real.#i don't have any points to prove for this but sanji and zoro look married in wano. idk man. i can just feel it.#i remember several episodes ago i was complaining about the missmatch of the colors on luffy.... i forgor why the band is purple.... qjwjaj#the music.... slay#i might be getting the luffy worms again i feel so insane..... what do you mean the sky parted.... omg neko and inu.... KICK THEIR ASSES!!!!#luffy fighting kaido and he still has time to boss momo and yamato around ajdbaks and roast him too lmao#momo thinking about kinemon and kiku....#PEROSPERO AND JACK FINALLY!!!!!!!!! carrot omg..... pedro avenged ✔️ now fucking orichi.... how many heads does he have left.....#why is luffy turning supersayian aldjaksn#episode 1051#just saw trafalgay written on a comment and idk if its on purpose or a misspelling but thags so funny akshaksjaka#yamato and momo father-son bonding time <3 teaching him how to be a dragon... so sweet#also the race of people that could set themselves on fire on mariejoa??? kinda random dropping it in there but alas... ✍️✍️#zoro didn't want franky to help but there he goes.... out of onigashima... a good franky fart would have prevented that...#petition to rename coup de burst to franky fart. like why is it even in french. he is A YANKEE.#episode 1052#boy dragon sounds like boy genius. who wants to join my band
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eggmeralda · 6 months ago
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spent an hour making a list related to That Fandom, followed by an hour listening to the haunting vibe playlist, followed by an hour reading the fanfic we wrote about my band and crying actual tears bc it's the peak of comedy, followed by an hour thinking about all the things I've ever created that will never be seen by anyone either bc I don't know how to show them to people or bc people just think they're bad but either way I'll never know the true answer, and now it's 10.30pm and I've basically experienced the full spectrum of emotions: autism, existential crisis, silly, and the feeling of being unseen
#the list btw was working out which south park character canonically gets the most bitches. kyle btw#but yeah the 4th hour was typical after experiencing the adrenaline rush laugh attack high of the 3rd hour#(with an air of bittersweet nostalgia for the joys of 2nd year uni)#and the 4th hour was just thoughts of like. do you ever make the best thing you've ever made and then you don't know what to do with it#even if the thing itself isn't objectively Good. but it's still the best thing in comparison to everything else you've made#and for me it's the messily written script for that film i wrote#and the album I'd been recording since 2020 and finally finished at the start of this year#and like. both of them i spent so much time on and both were for my own enjoyment#like the process of making them is fun#but then once they're finished what do you do? do you show other people? or do you just keep it to yourself#keeping it to yourself is the safer option bc you don't know what anyone's opinion of it is#the only thing is that it feels trapped inside i guess? like you've just got it to yourself for no reason#at least put it somewhere. post it online or print/record it in physical form. so you have some way of proving it ever existed#but then if you do post it online there's only four options:#1. no one sees it bc they don't know it's there (neutral)#2. people see it and enjoy it and they tell you (good)#3. people see it and hate it and they tell you (bad)#4. people possibly see it but whether or not they engage with it you'll never know and no one says anything about it (????? worst option)#and you don't wanna be obnoxious about it by reposting it all the time so you just assume either people don't like it or just don't care#and then leave it#and it's not even anyone's fault it's just you have no idea where you stand with anything#and then that leads back to the question of why would you make something in the first place if all you're gonna do is finish it#if the process is enjoyable then just make small versions of it so the finish doesn't feel as wasted#more emphasis on the making experience. which is the fun part#idek what i'm talking about. does anyone get this#i'm not saying no one should ever make big things bc it's pointless or anything#but also what is the point in finishing something massive if it's just gonna be left collecting dust in your mind. and possibly storage#if it always feels like this i'm just gonna never finish anything ever again. and then everything will stay fun forever <3#ramble
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curryshesus · 5 months ago
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jeon jungkook fics that had me going feral
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hi guys, here's a part 2 to my favorite jjk fics on tumblr! note that many of these fics contain 18+ content. you are responsible for the content you consume! as always, if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors! part 1 | other bts members
➺ cold nights & blurred lines - by @awrkive
summary: jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.
➺ night crawlers - by @alphabetboyluvr
summary: jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?
➺ this is how you fall in love - by @jeonqkooks
summary: after years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, jungkook feels what it’s like to want someone with his entire being.
➺ the dilf installments - by @mercurygguk
summary: this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!
➺ ultimatum - by @parkmuse
summary: your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).
➺ a hero's journey - by @hansolmates
summary: jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story
➺ tempest - by @kooktrash
summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.
➺ by its cover - by @gimmesumsuga
summary: the one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.
➺ slow dancing - by @yoonia
summary: when your countdown appeared on your wrist right in the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.
➺ e s p r e s s o - by @joonberriess
➺ hold me closer - by @ahundredtimesover
summary: when you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though.
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punkshort · 6 months ago
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Have A Good Night
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Every week like clockwork, the same devastatingly handsome man comes into the grocery store where you work to buy flowers. It's not until he asks you out when you realize the flowers aren't for his wife or girlfriend.
Warnings: no outbreak AU, language, flirting, alcohol and food consumption, smut (18+ MDNI), protected piv sex, size kink, shy!joel, fluff, mutual pining, cringy/embarrassing crush interactions
WC: 7.9K
Written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna Challenge (masterlist here)
dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics
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It was never roses that he bought. That should have been your first clue.
Every Friday he came through your checkout lane with a beautiful flower arrangement. Sometimes it was lilies, sometimes it was daffodils, but never roses.
He hardly spared you a glance when he slid his card through the machine. Occasionally he would comment about the weather or how busy the store was, but he rarely ever made eye contact.
It wasn't unusual and it didn't offend you. Most customers had other things on their minds and they preferred to get in and out of the store as quickly as possible. But this particular customer, the one with dark hair and eyes, broad shoulders and patchy beard always caught your eye. It was the best part of your week. You never had the nerve to say anything to him, but your friend Andy noticed the way you always got nervous when you saw him standing in line, how your demeanor shifted and your hands shook just a little bit.
He's not wearing a ring, Andy pointed out one day as you counted your drawer. You rolled your eyes.
That doesn't mean anything, you replied. Why else would he be buying flowers?
Then one day, as you scanned your handsome stranger's flowers, you noticed a few of the daisies were wilting.
"Do you want to pick out a different bouquet?" you had mustered up the courage to ask. The store was quiet, no one was lined up behind him. There was a big football game that night and it kept most people at home.
His eyes snapped up to yours and he froze like a deer in the headlights. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for an answer while trying to think if you said something stupid to warrant such a delayed reaction. "A few of these flowers are already dying. See?" You tilted the bouquet in his direction so he could see the flowers with the petals that were turning brown.
"Oh," he finally said, then nodded his head. "Y-yeah, thanks. D'you mind if I just-" he jutted his thumb over his shoulder.
"It's no big deal, I'll wait."
He gave you a crooked grin and disappeared back into the store. The florist department wasn't far from the registers but it was enough time for Andy to lock eyes with you from customer service and give you a look. You rolled your eyes at him and turned back around just as the hot flower guy was returning with a new selection.
"Thanks," he said again once you handed him his receipt. He didn't make a move to leave.
"Don't mention it," you replied, feeling Andy's stupid grin burning into the back of your head the longer hot flower guy stood there.
"Have you worked here long?" he asked after a brief silence that was bordering on uncomfortable. You blinked, taken aback at the random question and tried to ignore your heart fluttering excitedly in your chest.
"Um, just over four years," you replied. His beautiful dark eyes drifted over your face as he nodded and swallowed before looking back down at his flowers.
"You work most Fridays?"
You could feel your cheeks warming up and you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. How can someone be embarrassed for being embarrassed? Jesus, you were such a mess.
"Yep," you said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear and praying he didn't notice how flushed you were.
He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight. If you weren't so absorbed in your own uneasiness you might have noticed he was acting just as uncomfortable as you.
When he opened his mouth to say something else, a middle aged woman pushed her cart up behind him and began to unload her groceries onto the belt. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and nervously swiped his palm over his mouth.
"Have a good night," he told you abruptly, and before you had a chance to reply he was halfway to the front door.
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The following week was busier and you lost track of time. Typically, as your shift dragged on, you began to anticipate his arrival but on that particular day, you were distracted. Andy ended up having to help out on another register, it was so busy.
"You wanna come out with us tonight?" Andy asked you over his shoulder. He was closing down the extra register while you were finishing up with a young mom who had her hands full wrangling her toddler away from the candy.
"Uh, yeah, sure," you agreed absentmindedly, lifting the last paper bag into the cart. You tapped a key on your register so she could slide her card through the reader and looked over at Andy. "Where are you guys going?"
"Murray's," he replied immediately, his focus still on counting the coins in the drawer. You rolled your eyes and grinned.
"Why am I not surprised?"
It was well known Andy harbored a huge crush on a bartender there and he had been trying to work up the courage for months to ask for her number.
"Thank you, have a good night," you told the young woman, handing over her receipt with a smile. When you glanced up to greet your next customer, you felt your heart skip a beat when you were met with those dark brown eyes you had grown so enamored with.
"It must be later than I thought," you said, without even thinking twice. Surprise passed over his beautiful features as you scanned his flowers and then your nerves finally caught up with you. "I-I mean, you usually come in around the same time every week," you explained hurriedly. Andy was smirking at you from behind hot flower guy's broad shoulder and you made a mental note to punch him later.
"I didn't realize you noticed," he replied after he cleared his throat.
Oh, you idiot. You could tell you made him uncomfortable with your comment and you just prayed he didn't figure out you had been lusting after him all these months with the little observation you made.
"You always pick out the best flower arrangements, it's hard not to," Andy piped up. Relief flooded your veins for the save. Maybe you should rethink that punch. "Must be one lucky girl," he added with a mischievous wink in your direction before picking up the drawer and walking towards the office, leaving just the two of you with Andy's loaded comment hanging heavy in the air.
He took his time pulling his credit card out of his wallet, wracking his brain for something to say. His cheeks dusted with pink the longer he took to formulate a sentence.
"So... Murray's, huh?" he asked, cringing inwardly at the stupid question as he swiped his card.
You blinked, confused at the change in topic until it clicked. "Oh, yeah. He drags a bunch of us out after work sometimes because he's got a thing for a girl who works there." You gave the man behind hot flower guy a smile as he unloaded his groceries on the belt.
Your handsome stranger froze, his hand still holding the receipt midair while the gears turned in his head.
"So, you two aren't-"
"Oh, sorry, excuse me," the customer behind him mumbled when he accidentally bumped into him with his cart.
"Have a good night," you told him with a sweet smile, then quickly turned away, hoping your hair would hide your embarrassment.
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"I am not playing darts with her! Don't you remember last time? She almost took my eye out!"
"Oh, shut the fuck up!" you laughed, shoving Courtney, another co-worker of yours, in the shoulder. There were only five of you that night, Courtney being the only other girl in your group, but you were fine with that. Over the past few years you all bonded over the shared trauma of nasty customers and terrible management to the point where you were like family, and nights where you blew off steam only brought you closer together.
"Anyone need anything? I'm heading up," Andy shouted over the live band.
"Didn't you just get a water a minute ago?" you teased, knowing full well he was looking for an excuse to talk to the bartender.
"What can I say? I'm thirsty," Andy replied with a smirk before pushing his way through the crowd to get to the bar.
"When the hell's he just gonna ask her out? We've been coming here for months," Courtney said, turning away from the bar to look at you. You took a sip from your mixed drink and shrugged.
"Probably for the best. You know if he makes things weird then we'll need to find a new spot to hang out."
She giggled and winced when the band began to sing Journey off-key. "God, these guys are... not it."
"I think it's the owner's way of making us drink more!" James shouted from across the table, the four of you dissolving into laughter. He had a good point because your drink was nearly empty.
"Why didn't you just have Andy get you one?" Courtney asked when you slid down from your barstool.
"If I did, there was, like, a one percent chance he would bring it back to me within the hour," you told her, nodding towards Andy setting up shop against the bar, his eyes trailing after the cute bartender.
It took several minutes but you were finally able to wedge yourself between other patrons and secure a refill of your drink, but when you turned around to walk back to your table you nearly ran right into someone's chest.
"Oh! Sorry, I - " your eyes widened when you tilted your head up to find those familiar brown eyes staring down at you. "It-it's you!" you finally said as the shock began to wear off. He gave you a lopsided grin and nodded.
"Joel," he offered, sticking his hand out. Joel. Joel. Joel. You rolled his name around in your head like a ping pong ball. It suited him.
You took his hand, his long fingers dwarfing yours. "I'm-"
Then he cut you off and said your name and once again, you struggled to keep the shock from your face. "Your nametag," he explained, letting your hand go and gesturing towards his own chest where a nametag would sit. "I remember."
"Yeah," you said breathlessly with a smile. You glanced around the room while people shoved past you to get to the bar. "What are you doing here?"
His smile faltered a bit and he rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't live too far. Had the night to myself so I came out with my brother. He's over there," Joel pointed to the opposite corner of the bar but it was impossible to see him through all the people.
"Oh, cool," you nodded and took a sip from your glass. His eyes drifted to your lips, getting lost in the way they puckered around the straw. "Do you guys come here a lot?"
He chuckled and dropped his chin shyly to his chest before shaking his head. "No, um," he cleared his throat and looked back up at you. "Was hopin' I would run into you, actually."
"Me?" you squeaked and your heart began to race. He nodded and grinned.
"Yeah. Wondered if maybe you'd-"
A huge, burly man who definitely had too much to drink shouldered past you, accidentally shoving you into Joel's chest. His arms immediately wrapped around your ribs to steady you and somehow you didn't spill anything on his clothes.
"God, I'm sorry," you mumbled, his scent making you dizzy. You always had a register between you. Never before had you been that close, noticing he smelled like he had just gotten out of the shower and it was instantly overwhelming.
"It's alright," he said, his arms still loosely wrapped around your midsection. "But I gotta get this out before I lose my nerve, darlin'."
Darlin'. Your brows furrowed and before you could reply, he spoke. "I wondered if you wanted to go out on a date sometime? Maybe a movie or somethin'? I know you work alotta nights but I -"
"You want to go out with me?" you asked in disbelief. He looked at you like you had two heads.
"'Course I do. Wasn't it obvious?" he could feel the heat creeping up his neck.
"No! I thought... nevermind, it doesn't matter," you told him, a smile pulling across your lips. "Yes, I would love to. God, if you only knew-" you stopped yourself by slapping your hand over your mouth and he quirked a playful eyebrow at you but he was too excited that you agreed to go out with him to ask you to finish your thought. He handed you his phone as you shakily typed in your number, hoping your trembling fingers didn't mess it up before giving it back to him.
"I'm gonna text you tomorrow, set somethin' up, yeah?" he asked and you nodded numbly, your mind reeling as you tried to process everything that was happening. He grinned and slid his phone back into his pocket. "Have a good night," he said, the familiar phrase making you smile before disappearing into the crowd.
"Um, who the hell was that?" Courtney questioned the second you arrived back at your table.
"I need a fucking shot first and then I'll tell you, holy shit," you said, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves with no success. She laughed and got you each tequila shots, then you spent the rest of the night telling her all about Joel the hot flower guy.
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The next morning, you paid for your crimes. Your head throbbed and your mouth was dry as sand as you stumbled into your bathroom to scoop water from the faucet, desperately trying to quench your thirst. You weren't normally a huge drinker, but after your run-in with Joel, you were so nervous that you found yourself tossing back a few extra drinks than normal. Fortunately, you didn't work until late afternoon, so after you fumbled around your cupboards for some crackers, you fell back into bed. Your eyes widened when you saw a missed text from an unsaved number an hour ago.
Hey, it's Joel. It was great running into you last night. I was thinking we could go to dinner this week, if you're still up for it. What nights are you free?
"Shit," you muttered, running a hand anxiously through your hair. Now that you were sober, the prospect of seeing hot flower guy outside of work made you inexplicably nervous.
You must have typed out and deleted fifteen responses before going with I would love to! I'm free Sunday, Monday and Wednesday nights. Or we could do something after I get out of work, we close at nine.
Did you sound too desperate? You chewed on your fingernail as you read your sent text over and over, then shrugged and put your phone down. Too late now, anyway.
It took a while to get his response, but to be fair, you didn't reply to him for an hour.
I can make Sunday work.
Sunday? As in, tomorrow?
"Oh, fuck," you groaned, fully not expecting him to set something up so quickly. You needed time to mentally prepare, but of course you agreed, then quickly texted Courtney, begging for her help on what to wear and how to do your hair.
Yay!! We can talk about it at work tonight!
After you ironed out a time and restaurant with Joel, you popped two pain relievers and chugged some water, hoping to get rid of your hangover before work.
"Okay, so where's he taking you?" Courtney asked excitedly as you stocked cereal together.
"This Italian place on Westwood. Here, I looked it up," you said, pulling out your phone and showing her the menu. "Have you been there before? What do I wear?"
She squinted at your screen and shook her head. "I haven't been there but we can figure this out. It doesn't look that fancy, but you should probably wear a dress or skirt."
"Ooo, do you finally have yourself a date?" Andy asked from halfway down the aisle, clearly overhearing part of your conversation. "Hot flower guy is going to be so disappointed."
You laughed and pocketed your phone. "It's with hot flower guy," you said triumphantly. Andy's eyes bugged out of his head, confused, until you and Courtney explained what happened the night before when he was busy staring at the bartender.
"You should have told me last night! So I guess that means he really is single."
You paused and cocked your head to the side, realizing all of the sudden you still didn't know why he bought flowers every Friday.
"Uh, yeah, I guess so," you replied, turning your attention back to the cereal. Andy and Courtney exchanged worried glances behind your back.
"I'm sure he's not stupid enough to buy flowers from you for another woman every week and then ask you out," Courtney said, glaring at Andy. He cleared his throat and nodded.
"Y-yeah, I mean, maybe they're for a grave or something."
You both turned to him and gave him an incredulous look.
"Hey, I'm just trying to help," he said, throwing up his hands and walking away. You bit your lip and glanced at Courtney.
"Don't worry about it. There's tons of reasons why guys would buy flowers weekly... maybe he just likes to have fresh flowers in the house. Maybe they're for his mom!"
"Yeah, good point. I bet they're for his mom," you agreed, feeling a little better as you ripped open the next cardboard box full of cereal boxes.
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When you woke on Sunday morning, you were already nervous. You could have sworn your heart was slamming in your chest from the moment you opened your eyes, already overthinking your date with Joel.
You spent the afternoon texting Courtney pictures of outfits you hauled out of your closet and tossed on your bed, then decided you needed to try them on for her to get the full effect. You were sitting on your bed, wearing a light blue sundress, the last outfit you had tried on as you gathered your pictures. Your thumb quickly tapped all of the photos of you modeling your options and typed out what one looks the best? then hit send.
As you were unzipping your dress and sliding it down your legs, you heard your phone ping from your bed. You hung up the dress and pulled your sweats back on before reaching for your phone, hesitating when you saw Joel's name pop up. You felt a pit in your stomach, worried that he came to his senses and was asking to cancel, so you sat down on the bed before sliding your thumb over the screen to open his text.
You look great in everything, but I really like the pink one.
Your palms instantly broke out into a sweat and you felt lightheaded.
"Oh no, oh no, oh no," you mumbled, scrolling up in your text chain before cursing and throwing yourself into your pillows to scream. In your rush to send your text, you accidentally sent the pictures to Joel instead of Courtney. You waited until you got your bearings and tried to convince yourself it wasn't really that bad, that it definitely could have been worse, before replying.
Ha, sorry. I meant to send those to a friend, but if you like the pink one, then I guess that answers my question
You stared down at your phone, anxiously waiting for his answer, which didn't take very long at all.
You could wear a paper sack and you would still look beautiful.
The grin that stretched across your face was massive. He was probably just sweet talking you and trying to make you feel better about making such a stupid mistake, but damn, it worked.
Looking forward to tonight :) you said in response, then bit your lip and flung yourself backwards on your bed. Your eyes drifted to the light pink dress hanging in your closet and you smiled.
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As it turned out, the Italian restaurant was owned by Joel's brother, Tommy. You met the younger man at the host stand when you walked in the door. He had a huge grin plastered across his face and although you were an only child, you could still tell when someone was itching to tease their sibling. Tommy's eyes flickered back and forth between you and Joel, silently communicating with his brother as you introduced yourself. You managed to catch Joel shooting Tommy a warning glare before nervously resting his hand on your lower back and guiding you through the restaurant to an empty booth in the back.
"Have I told you how beautiful you look?" Joel asked, his dark eyes sparkling even under the dim mood lighting. You giggled and shyly looked down at your lap.
"A couple times."
Joel smiled warmly and leaned forward, his eyes trailing over the soft curves of your jaw and the way your plush lips stretched when he made you smile.
Before the food arrived, you learned a little more about him. He worked in construction, doing mostly residential but some commercial property work. He was trying to go into business for himself, which he told you was difficult but he already had years of experience and contacts in the area. He preferred to do most jobs himself or with as little help as possible because he only trusted his own work, but sometimes he did hire Tommy for a job to help his brother earn extra money.
"And in return, he lets me eat here for free," Joel finished, wiping the small smudge of red sauce from the corner of his mouth.
"That sounds like a win-win," you joked, and Joel chuckled.
"Tell me 'bout yourself. You said you been workin' at the store for four years?"
"Yeah," you nodded, pushing your empty plate to the side. "It's just meant to be temporary. I'm going to community college three days a week. Trying to get my degree so I can get a job with normal hours."
Joel hummed and leaned back in the booth. "What'dya wanna do?"
You shrugged. "I'm not sure, really. Hoping I figure that out as I go. I just know being a cashier for the rest of my life isn't for me, you know?"
"Yeah, sure," he agreed. "I could ask 'round if you want. Maybe some place is hirin' a receptionist or somethin'?"
"Oh, it's okay," you waved him off with a smile. "I appreciate it, though."
Afterwards, he took you for ice cream. You sat together outside the ice cream stand on a bench. The temperature outside was perfect and the place was mobbed. Kids ran around playing tag while other families gathered around picnic tables, laughing and telling each other about their days while you tried not to stare at Joel licking his ice cream and fantasizing about what that would look like between your legs.
"I wouldn't've pegged you for a strawberry girl," he said, nodding towards your rapidly melting ice cream.
"It reminds me of when I was a kid. My grandma liked to take me out for ice cream when she babysat me and strawberry was her favorite."
He smiled, listening to you talk about your family, getting a brief glimpse into your life, leaving him wanting more.
You thought everything was going so well. The date went perfectly. There wasn't as much awkwardness as you originally thought there would be and Joel was very easy to talk to. So when he dropped you off at your door and you invited him inside, you were surprised and somewhat hurt when he declined after a quick glance at his watch. He only kissed your cheek before telling you have a good night and backing out of your driveway, leaving you confused and a little self-conscious.
"He's probably just a gentleman," Courtney assured you the following day, "wants to take things slow and all that."
And you agreed. Once you had time to process everything, that seemed like exactly what it was, and you began to feel better.
But then Joel took you on a second date, and then a third, and he still hadn't tried to kiss you or make a move whatsoever.
"Maybe he's just rusty," Courtney offered after the fourth date and still finding yourself being shot down. "He wouldn't keep going out with you if he didn't like you."
Once again, Courtney made sense and you agreed he just liked to take things slower than you were used to.
But on your fifth date, where he took you to a baseball game, you misjudged the size of the beers they sold and you found yourself tipsier than you expected. Joel seemed really into the game but turned his focus on you whenever you searched for it, which, as the night wore on and the alcohol buzzed in your veins, became more and more frequent. You would ask him questions about how the game was played, even though your father watched baseball your whole life, just so you could listen to him talk. You looped your arm through his when the game was over and you both shuffled out of the stadium with a whole herd of drunk fans, back out into the parking lot. You tightly held onto his bicep, the feeling of his muscles under you fingertips more intoxicating than the beer, as he escorted you to his truck.
On the drive back to your place, you could feel your confidence building. Maybe he's just shy and doesn't know how to make a move. Maybe he just needs a clearer sign. Maybe he's waiting for you to make a move.
So, when he walked you to your door and he leaned in to kiss your cheek, you turned your face at the last second and locked your lips with his.
You could feel his surprise when your lips met. He froze and stopped breathing as he tried to figure out what to do, so you decided to make things easier for him and draped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and massaging your lips over his, urging him to reciprocate.
And finally, his hands flew up to your waist and tugged you against him. His mouth began to move and he crowded you up against your door. When your back made contact with the wood and his large palms squeezed gently at your hips, you moaned into his mouth. You had been dying for this for weeks and you would be damned it you were going to let it stop too soon.
Without even asking this time, you reached behind you and fumbled with your doorknob, twisting it blindly without breaking the kiss so you could both stumble inside. He kicked the door shut behind him, tongue licking at the seam of your lips while he brought one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. You granted him access, parting your lips and tangling your tongues together as he continued to walk you backwards. He opened his eyes and glanced around the dark living room quickly before pulling away and whispering one word: bedroom?
The way he said it made your knees weak and your heart flutter excitedly in your chest. You pulled him down for one more kiss before grabbing his hand and practically dragging him down the hall. About halfway to your room, his lips latched onto the crook of your neck and you slowed down, closing your eyes and twisting around in his arms so you could kiss him again. He pinned you against the wall with a groan, his thumb and forefinger clutching your jaw, prying it open so he could devour you. You hooked one leg over his hips and he let go of your jaw so he could grab the backs of your thighs and haul you off the ground.
You tugged at his hair impatiently, then gasped when he ground himself against your core, your body jolting in his arms and knocking a canvas print off the wall.
"Shit," he muttered, barely sparing the picture a glance before peeling you off the wall and carrying you towards your bedroom with your ankles hooked together at his lower back. You giggled against his mouth then squealed when he tossed you onto your bed. His hands glided underneath your dress and up your legs, slipping his fingers around the the waistband of your panties and tugging them down, pausing once he got to your knees. He blinked a few times like he was snapping out of a stupor and glanced up at you.
"Is this okay?"
"God, yes," you said, reaching behind you to tug at your zipper. You tried to shrug off your dress but his lips found yours and you quickly got distracted. You nibbled at his bottom lip while simultaneously tugging at the hem of his shirt, pushing it up over his soft stomach and stopping at his broad shoulders. He broke away just long enough to lean back and toss the shirt over his head and he was back on top of you before you could even drink him in.
You dragged your mouth over his chin, biting and nipping as you went. He groaned as you left open mouthed kisses across his jaw, his prickly beard tickling your tongue. "My dress," you whispered against his cheek before mouthing at the skin there, "take it off."
His palms slid over your shoulders, pushing the straps of your dress down while you wiggled a bit, helping move the fabric down your body. You arched your back so he could pull your dress all the way off, his breath getting caught in this throat when your nipples brushed against his bare chest.
He couldn't resist. When your dress was discarded on the floor, he sat back between your legs to admire your naked body, completely transfixed. Too much time had passed without him saying anything and you grew self-conscious, so you slowly began to cross your arms over your chest, but he stopped you.
"No," he rasped with a shake of his head. "You're so beautiful, just wanna look at you another minute."
Your cheeks flared with heat but you dropped your hands and gazed up at him, watching his eyes flicker excitedly over your body, memorizing every curve and freckle he could find. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a twitch in his pants and you glanced down at the outline of his cock through his jeans. You bit your lip and he followed your gaze, palming his erection briefly before undoing his pants.
"Oh," you whispered to yourself when you saw his cock spring free. He wrapped his hand around his thick shaft and glanced up at you as he crawled back up the mattress on his knees. "You're big," you added, unable to look away. He blushed but didn't reply. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed you, this time slower. You shuddered in anticipation when you felt the tip of his leaking cock brush against your pussy and he froze.
"Shit, wait," he grumbled, sitting back on his heels before reaching for his wallet, which was still stuffed inside his jeans. You figured out the problem and leaned over to your nightstand, fishing around in the drawer until you found a condom and held it out for him. He looked relieved when he saw the little foil square and tossed his wallet back onto the ground before ripping open the condom and rolling it on.
"Sorry. It's... been a while. Wasn't exactly prepared," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The endearing confession just made you want him even more.
"It's okay, come here," you murmured, reaching your arms out for him. He grinned and fell down onto his elbows, kissing you slow and deep. When you felt him rest his tip at your entrance, you tensed up.
"Relax," he whispered in your ear. You slid your eyes shut and snaked your arms around his shoulders, gasping sharply when he pressed forward. When he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the pain mixing with the pleasure in a way that made you dizzy.
"Oh, fuck, Joel," you whimpered when he bottomed out, your body stretching around his girth, the sting setting your nerves on fire.
He groaned against your neck and began to rock his hips steadily, making sure to not go too fast. He could tell you were still getting adjusted but it had just been so fucking long and he liked you so much, it was difficult to hold back. He could feel the sweat collecting between his shoulder blades as he focused all his energy on going slow, and when he felt your thighs relax around his waist and your back arch underneath him, he sighed with relief.
"More," you moaned, pressing your body against his, trying to get as close as possible. He growled and dipped his mouth down to capture one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, releasing it with a wet pop and reveling in the sweet noises you made for him.
He wanted to tell you everything. He wanted to tell you how much he thought about you, how long he wanted to ask you out, how he wanted to know everything about you, how nervous you made him with just a simple glance. But he didn't say any of that. It had been so long since he had gone on a date that he wasn't even sure what women liked anymore. So he remained silent, focusing on not coming too soon while paying close attention to your cues, memorizing what you liked based on the breathy whines in his ear and the way your fingers clutched frantically at his hair. You, however, took his silence to mean he wasn't enjoying himself and you really, really didn't want that, so you pushed gently on his shoulder, drawing his attention.
"Let's switch," you murmured, and he gave you a quizzical look. "Why don't you lay back and let me do some of the work?" you explained, nipping playfully at his jaw.
When his head settled into your pillows, watching with heavy lidded eyes as you straddled him before catching his gaze and slowly sinking down, taking every inch of his cock with a low moan, he thought for sure it would be the death of him. You looked so beautiful all spread out and full of him that he had to squeeze his eyes shut so he wouldn't come just looking at you.
Then you started riding him and his eyes flew open, his chest heaving as he watched your tits bounce and your head tip back in ecstasy and he knew he was done for.
"Wait," he rasped, grabbing your waist and stilling your hips. You stopped, swollen lips parted as you panted for air and looked down at him.
"What's wrong?"
"N-nothin'," he stammered, taking a few deep breaths in before chuckling. "I'm just... I need a minute, is all."
You could see the red beginning to stain his cheeks and the look of embarrassment flicker across his face, melting your heart. Leaning down, you cupped his jaw and kissed him tenderly.
"Is that why you've been so quiet?" you asked softly, leaning back so you could look into his eyes but still holding his cheek in the palm of your hand. He nodded, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrist.
"I'm sorry. I haven't been with anyone in years and I've been tryin' to take things slow with you but I think all the buildup just made it worse." You grinned and took his other hand.
"Don't be sorry. I think it's hot," you whispered, pulling his free hand down between your bodies. He splayed his hand out across your lower abdomen and you took his thumb between your fingers, pulling it down so it made direct contact with your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt the pressure and a slow smile spread across his face when he realized what you were doing.
"Yeah? Why's it hot?" he asked, drawing slow circles over your clit and watching your jaw fall open and your eyes flutter shut. Both your hands dropped to his chest, holding yourself up.
"Because," you began, then bit your lip and moaned when he picked up the pace. "Because it's l-like you c-can't control yourself. Like y-you need me so badly, you can't hold back." You knew it sounded pathetic but you didn't care. His touch was intoxicating and you needed more.
"I can't," he admitted, his eyes glued to your face, taking pride in how good he made you feel. "I can't control myself. Wanted you for so long. Been thinkin' about this for months."
You gasped and your eyes snapped open, locking onto his. "Me, too. I never thought, shit, never thought you noticed me."
"Are you kiddin' me? I noticed you the first day." Now that the truth was out there, the words wouldn't stop coming. "You were wearin' a yellow shirt and I saw these perfect fuckin' tits when you bent over. Went home that night and-"
He stopped himself, wondering if he was going too far, but you dug your fingers into his chest and urged him to continue, desperately gasping for air as his thumb applied more pressure.
"Say it," you whispered. His cock pulsed angrily inside you, begging for release.
"Went home and fucked my fist thinkin' 'bout you."
You groaned loudly and leaned back, grabbing your breasts and playing with your nipples. "Fuck, I'm close, Joel."
"Yeah? Can you ride me, baby? Wanna come with you," he begged, his voice strained. Immediately, you resumed bouncing on his cock, letting go of your tits so you could brace yourself on his chest once again.
He watched in awe as you gasped and squeezed your eyes shut, stilling for just a moment, pulsing around his length as you came, his name and curses tumbling from your lips.
He couldn't hold back any longer.
He grabbed your hips with both hands and slammed up into you, grunting louder and louder each time. And it didn't take long. You had barely recovered from your own orgasm before he groaned, his eyes trained on where you were connected, thrusting as deep as he could go while his cock throbbed inside you.
"Fuck," he whispered, his head falling back limply onto your pillow. You slumped forward and buried your face against his neck, each of you trying to regulate your breathing.
"That was..." you began, trailing off when you realized your brain was still a pile of mush.
"Better than I ever imagined," Joel finished for you, wrapping his arms around your ribs.
Regrettably, he eventually pulled out, making you both wince. You rolled over onto your back and watched as he made his way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. If you had any energy left, you might have shot off a quick text to Courtney, but you were barely coherent by the time he slipped back into your bed.
You didn't even need to ask if he was staying the night. He pulled you into his arms, his chest pressed up against your back when you fell asleep, completely at ease.
It could have been the beer or the sex, but you didn't hear his phone go off in the middle of the night. You didn't feel him slip his arm out from under you so he could answer the call in your living room, and you definitely didn't hear him quickly dress and leave.
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It was finally Friday and you were moments away from calling off from work. The thought of facing him again made your stomach roll and your head swim.
You hadn't heard from Joel since he left in the middle of the night after you slept together, days ago. You foolishly texted and called him multiple times, but he never answered. Eventually, you got the message.
Countless hours were spent crying, then more were spent stalking around your place angrily, and a mixture of the two happened at work when either Courtney or Andy asked you about hot flower guy.
They eventually learned not to ask.
As badly as you wanted to call off, you dragged yourself into work. Andy offered to take over the registers so you could hide in the aisles stocking shelves during the hour Joel typically showed up, and you shamefully took him up on it. But when it was close to closing time and you made your way back to the front, Andy shrugged his shoulders.
"He never came."
You had a moment where you worried that something happened to him and you considered texting him just one more time, but when you got into your car that night and opened your text chain to a long list of unanswered texts, you changed your mind.
However, the next morning you awoke to a handful of texts from Joel. At first, your heart raced in your chest, but then your anger crept up and you had half a mind to just delete them. After you had some coffee and a chance to think clearly, your curiosity won and you opened the texts.
I'm so sorry
Something came up
Can you call me back?
Please let me explain
Your fingers hovered over your screen as you debated on what to say. Then you decided to leave the messages unanswered. At least for a little while. If he left you hanging for almost a week, he could wait a few hours, right?
What you didn't expect, however, was for him to show up at the store on a Saturday. He only ever came on Friday evenings. You were cashing out a customer, zoning out a bit, grateful for the distraction. When you reached for the receipt, your eyes locked with his and your pulse began to race. He was holding a bouquet of white roses and looking at you with a guilty expression. Your fingers froze around the paper momentarily until the little old lady in front of him cleared her throat and you blinked, snapping out of it and handing her the receipt with an apologetic smile.
"Hey," he said, but you kept your gaze trained down at the scanner.
"Hi."
Your hands shook as you scanned his flowers, doing your best to get the interaction over with as quickly as possible. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Andy at customer service notice Joel in line, watching from a distance in case you needed rescuing.
"You didn't respond to my texts," he said quietly. You shrugged.
"I've been busy," was all you said, tapping the button on the register for credit.
After he paid, you handed him his receipt and forced yourself to look at him. You could see in his eyes he looked exhausted and run down and despite how upset you were, you felt bad. But you felt even worse after he pocketed the receipt and handed you the flowers.
"They're for you."
"Oh," you said, surprised, as you looked down at the roses. "T-thank you."
Joel looked over his shoulder when a young couple began to unload their groceries on the belt. You panicked, not sure what to do or say, and then you felt a tap on your shoulder.
"Why don't you take your break?" Andy offered, "I'll cover."
You gave him a shaky smile, both of you knowing full well you already had your break. "Yeah, okay." Glancing over at Joel, you tilted your head towards the front door and he nodded.
"I'm so sorry I left without sayin' anythin'," he began when you sat down together on a bench outside the store. "There was an emergency and I had to go."
"You could have texted me or left a note," you said sadly, looking down at the flowers clutched in your hands.
"I know, and I was gonna, but my damn phone died and I was in the hospital for days. I was outta town, couldn't leave, I even wore the same clothes the whole time," he rubbed his face and sighed. "And once we got back home, I wanted to explain in person what happened."
"We?" you questioned. He dropped his chin to his chest and nodded solemnly.
"I have a daughter," he confessed, and your jaw dropped in surprise.
"W-what?" you whispered softly, "why didn't you tell me, Joel?"
His eyebrows pinched together, still avoiding your gaze.
"I don't know. In the past, women haven't exactly been thrilled findin' out I come with baggage and I guess I was bein' selfish." He finally looked up and you could see the pain behind his eyes. "I was tryin' to find the right way to tell you but I was so scared of losin' you."
You shook your head in disbelief. "It doesn't bother me at all that you have a daughter, Joel," you told him, "it bothers me that you lied."
He inched forward on the bench and put his hand on your knee. "I know. I'm so sorry. It was stupid. If you gimme another chance, I promise I'll never lie to you again."
Your chest tightened and you had to look away. He was so sincere, you could feel your resolve crumbling. After a moment, you dragged your eyes back up to him and you could swear he looked like he was on the verge of tears.
"Is she okay?"
He blinked rapidly for a moment, surprised by your question, then nodded.
"Yeah. She's okay now. She had appendicitis. She was with her mom last week. She lives an hour outside Austin and I just went right there from your place. Scared the shit outta me," he finished with a dry chuckle. Then something clicked.
"Your daughter..."
"Sarah."
"Sarah," you repeated. "The flowers you bought every week. Were they for her?"
He smiled shyly and nodded. "Yeah. She gets nervous goin' to her mom's still. The situation is a little rocky so I always get her flowers. Whether she's goin' there or comin' back. They make her smile," he said with a little shrug, and your heart melted.
"That's... that's really sweet," you said, looking down once again at the roses he bought you. He watched you closely for a moment then sat back on the bench, scratching his chin and trying to read your mind. Everything was out in the open now. He should have listened to Tommy and just told you the truth from the first date, but he couldn't remember the last time he ever felt so strongly about someone else before.
Just when he was about to leave, wanting to give you your space to think things over, you spoke again.
"So when are you free next?"
Joel exhaled in relief, then laughed. "Tomorrow?"
You bit your lip and nodded, then leaned forward and cupped his jaw, giving him a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth.
"It's a date," you whispered before standing up. He watched you from the bench as you walked towards the front doors. At the last moment you turned around, the white roses clutched against your chest, and called out, "have a good night."
He grinned.
"Have a good night."
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gojorgeous · 10 months ago
Text
“heatwaves”
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pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k
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Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot. 
Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way. 
But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably. 
“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.” 
You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross. 
You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before. 
Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…
“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones… 
When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing. 
Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers? 
“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man… 
You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.” 
Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused. 
You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour. 
You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen. 
“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?” 
 Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was… 
“Yes… Thank you.” 
Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”
You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…” 
“Take care.” 
Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources? 
You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think. 
You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?
You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?
You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.  
You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor. 
Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you? 
Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.
You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor. 
“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?” 
“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?” 
Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside. 
You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips. 
“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”
You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully. 
The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin. 
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost. 
“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing. 
“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.” 
That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”
He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree. 
“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground. 
“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.
He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker. 
But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it. 
“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply. 
That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?” 
You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”
His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”
You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.
That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands. 
You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”
You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right? 
You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed? 
Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power… 
“N-no–” 
A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?” 
You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper. 
Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls. 
Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard. 
“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper. 
His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.” 
Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–” 
“‘M following your scent, baby.” 
He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love. 
You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin. 
Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning. 
“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.
Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.” 
You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key. 
“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak. 
“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper. 
He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right. 
He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough. 
You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts. 
The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation. 
“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.” 
His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.
“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again. 
You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs. 
You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-” 
“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back. 
You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.” 
Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants. 
The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty. 
His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm. 
Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-
“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need. 
“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.” 
You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.
“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.” 
You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before. 
“You on birth control, baby?” 
Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…
You shake your head. “N-No…” 
There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.” 
There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively. 
“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back. 
Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name. 
“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts. 
His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me. 
“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers. 
“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now… 
Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together. 
Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.” 
You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair. 
Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones. 
“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”
You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut. 
“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed. 
His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he. 
You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does. 
His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry. 
You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.
It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.
You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision. 
His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to. 
Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.
His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here. 
His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time. 
A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.
There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.
His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?” 
Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”
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seresinhangmanjake · 2 months ago
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Forgetting
Jake Seresin x reader
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Summary: Jake forgets to pick you up at the airport because of his ex, and for the first time, you think maybe you and Jake aren't mean to be.
Notes/Warnings: Angst, but ends fluffy. Fighting. Cursing. This was a request that I said I'd have done in a couple days and it took me a week and a half. Sorry about that. Also, please be gentle. I haven't written for Jake in what feels like a millennium.
Words: 2700
Jake Seresin Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List
As much as it would kill you to know that he could be hurt, you hope he’s hurt. You hope he’s on his way to the hospital to receive life-saving treatment because if he’s not hurt, if he’s not receiving life-saving treatment, then he simply forgot about you. And that makes your heart want to claw its way out of your chest and scamper across the floor until it’s well out of your range to catch it. 
Your call goes to voicemail for the fourth time. You send your twelfth text: I hope you’re ok. I landed an hour ago. Please call me. Nothing different than the eleven other messages that have gone unanswered. Forty-five more minutes pass of you sitting on a bench by the airport exit before you finally surrender your last shred of hope and call Bradley to come save you. 
Within the hour, you’re sighing in relief, the sight of a friendly face almost bringing you to tears. He approaches you with open arms and you fall right into the embrace, comforted by the hug that should be in your boyfriend’s arms, and the warmth that should be from your boyfriend’s body, and the forehead kiss that should be from your boyfriend’s lips. 
“Please tell me he’s ok,” you say against your friend’s chest. 
A heavy palm rubs up and down your back. “No one could get ahold of him.”
Your head jerks back so you can meet his eyes. “Oh my god!”
“I’m sure he’s fine, kid. Don’t worry.”
“How can you say that? He was supposed to be here and he’s not and–” You pause when Bradley looks away from you, and a hefty stone settles in your gut. You know your friend well. He’s a good man, honest but sensitive, and when that honestly meets that sensitivity, it results in his inability to look someone in the eye if he thinks the truth might hurt them. You’ve seen it a hundred times, but never with you. 
Your posture wavers with your lengthy exhale. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Another great thing about Bradley: he doesn’t make you play any games. You don’t have to jump through hoops. You don’t have to ask the right questions in the right way in order to get what you need out of him, unlike many men, your boyfriend included, who recently has found ways to skitter around telling the full truth. 
“Javy said he saw him a couple of hours ago,” Bradley says.
Your back teeth clench. Your mind shoots to one conclusion. “With her?” you ask. Bradley’s eyes drift from yours again and you nod, a tear at the ready to leak down your cheek. “He forgot about me because he’s with her.”
“We don’t know that for sure, and–”
Your hand scrubbing down your face cuts him off. Your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose before you suck in your whimper and say, “Rooster, why did he even ask me to come here?”
“Because he…I mean, we thought he–”
“You thought he gave a fuck about me.”
“He does,” Bradley says, stressing his words in an attempt to reassure you. “He never shuts up about you.”
“Sure,” you say. “He gives so much of a fuck that he forgot about me to be with his ex. How can you explain that?”
Rooster sighs. His hands slip into his jeans pockets just to have something to do with them. “I can’t.”
“Exactly.” 
No one can explain it. Not you, not Bradley, not Jake. Everyone you know back home would be telling you to run for the hills right now. They were already wary of this ‘Navy guy’ that they’d only met twice around the holidays, who lives a decent distance away from your entire life and who constantly requests that you be the one to hop on a plane rather than the other way around. 
For the duration of your time together, you’ve been understanding of that sacrifice. You know his schedule doesn’t allow impromptu trips out of state, but that hasn’t made it any less exhausting for you. And maybe that’s a sign. Another sign. A nail in the coffin. Maybe you and Jake aren’t meant to be. And why would you be? You met him on a brief vacation to visit a friend who doesn’t even live in the same town anymore, and somehow, during those few days, he convinced you to take a chance on him. So you took the leap. But being that bold doesn’t guarantee you won’t fall flat on your face, and you think that’s exactly what’s happening. You’ve tripped over a guy only to realize he doesn’t care about you to the same degree that you care about him. 
However, you’re not the type to avoid confrontation. If Jake Seresin is going to mistreat you because of his ex, then he is going to do it to your face. He’s going to look you in the eye when he shows himself to be the liar he is. It may hurt more to go to him rather than get on the next plane home without so much as taking in a breath of fresh Californian air, but you’re too upset to let that thought fully develop, and a moment later, Rooster is following your stomps out the door. 
You find him at the Hard Deck, standing at a hightop with a beer glass in his hand that clinks against the one in his ex’s before he takes a sip. Bradley’s comforting hand lands on your back in solidarity. You only met him because of Jake, but the two of you bonded despite their differences, and having him by your side now makes him nothing short of a life-saver. 
He helps guide you through the crowd to the table, and when Jake spots you, he chokes around the liquid going down his throat. His blown-out emerald eyes rival saucers and his mouth gapes like a fish, but then his stare flicks to Bradley, and those eyes shrink into narrow slits. His face heats to a boiling red. 
“What the fuck!” Jake snaps, shocking the composure right out of his ex’s poised stance. Bar patrons close by turn their heads but quickly return to their own conversations. Jake steps away from the table, coming to a halt in front of you and his squadmate. “What the hell is this?”
You figured he’d be bothered if you showed up with Bradley in tow. And good, that’s what you feel he deserves. Jake’s been wary of the other Dagger’s closeness to you for a while, and even though you know—as does Bradley—that it’s an asinine concern, you have no problem using it against him now. But still, the intensity of his reaction manages to surprise you. You didn’t think he would be this angered by the sight of you with another man that it would have him overlooking his mistake of forgetting you.
Your arms cross. “This is your girlfriend and the guy who saved her when her damn boyfriend left her stranded at the airport.”
“Excuse me?”
Jake’s ex’s prying gaze tugs at your attention, but when you glance over his shoulder to catch her in the act, she quickly looks away—just more proof that whatever the fuck she’s doing with your boyfriend is something to be ashamed of. 
Bradley’s saying something. You can’t quite hear him over the anger-induced fuzzing in your ears, but you’re pretty sure it’s a scolding based on the twisting of Jake’s features as he shoots back his own words of aggression. And then your hand is in his and you’re being pulled through the bar, out the back door, and onto the deck where the only intrusive sound is the lapping of waves on the shore. 
“Why are you here?” he asks. 
You scoff to mask the heartbreak that comes with that question. “Because you asked me to be here.”
“Tomorrow.”
“What?”
“It’s Wednesday,” he says. 
“It’s Thursday, Jake.”
“No, it’s—” he freezes, and you don’t know if he’s tipsy or stupid, but it takes him a minute to come to the same conclusion: it is indeed Thursday. “Fuck,” he mutters.
Your lower back meets the edge of the railing, and you sigh, thankfully keeping in the tears. “What are you doing with her?”
“What the fuck are you doing with Rooster?” he returns much more forcefully. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I called, I texted, I left voicemails,” you tell him, “But clearly, she was more important.”
Jake’s hands pat down his pockets, mouth setting in a frown when he can’t find his phone.
“Don’t bother. Phone or no phone, you forgot about me because of her. Last time I was here, you were late for one of our dates because of her. You spent fifty percent of our time together stepping away to take her phone calls,” you say, trying and failing to avoid the bitter taste on your tongue. “Just fuck her, Jake, if you haven’t already. I only came here to tell you that she can have you.”
You’ve never seen him fall apart the way he does. You’ve never seen the blood drain from his cocky face. You’ve never seen his features break and crack and contort into the vision of pure devastation as they do. His parted mouth must’ve gone dry because his next words come out slightly hoarse.
“You don’t mean that,” he says, but it’s more of a plea than anything. “Why…Why would you–” He swallows. A wrinkle forms between his brows and he shakes his head. “You love me. You didn’t mean to say that.”
You do love him—terribly so—but you’re willing to be one of those people who won’t view love as enough if it also means laying you out as a fool. “Jake–”
“Take it back,” he says. His steps are quick, and then you’re trapped where you stand, his hands on either side of your body, gripping the rail. Eyes drill into yours, and for a second, you feel a pang of guilt. “Please, baby, take it back. She doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“And I mean less.”
“No!” he says. “That’s not true. You’re everything, ok? You mean everything to me. She was just helping me, that’s all.”
“Helping you,” you mimic with a roll of your eyes. “Helping you what? Get off?”
With a little whine, Jake’s head drops between his shoulders, his blond hair brushing your collarbone. “Please. Please quit saying things like that.” His hands slide closer to your body and land on your hips. You don’t push him away—you can't—and his touch softens you ever so slightly.
“Then tell me the truth,” you say. “Right now. I’m giving you one shot.”
His head snaps up. His eyes flick back and forth between yours, ironically searching for your honesty, as if you’re the liar on trial here. 
“It was a surprise,” he tells you. “She’s a realtor now, and for the last few months she’s been helping me find a new place, one that’s bigger than what I’ve got because I was going to ask you to move in with me.” Your heartbeat stutters. A layer of goosebumps coats your arms. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I hate missing you. I hate how unfair it is that you’re always the one to come here because I can’t fly out at the drop of a hat. I know it’s a big step, but I figured if I had a place, I could show you how great things could be. That’s why she and I came here. We were celebrating because I’m signing on a house first thing tomorrow,” he says. “Well, that’s why I’m celebrating, anyway. She’s probably celebrating because she just made a decent commission.”
It’s almost unfair how that new information doesn’t make you feel any less of a fool. Had he told you that under any other circumstances, you’d be leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve been deprived of him for years, repeating ‘yes’ over and over between those kisses, but you can’t. You can’t because his explanation doesn’t fix everything. 
“That still doesn’t change that it’s Thursday, not Wednesday,” you say.
“I know, baby. That’s my fault. I was so excited, and I was thinking how perfect the timing was that I would be able to pick you up tomorrow and drive you by the house now that it’s officially mine, but I fucked it up.”
Jake’s thumbs press into your hips, and you’re instantly reminded of each moment in your relationship when you’ve felt that same light pressure on your skin. A gentle claiming. The same pressure you felt when you agreed to be his girlfriend. The same pressure you feel whenever you’re in bed together. 
You sense eyes on you other than your boyfriend’s, and when you turn your head, you find his ex staring right at you, an expression on her face that you wish you could say wasn’t one of distress, but it is. And worse, it’s obviously not distress for herself, but for Jake, as if she’s hoping she wasn’t just a contributor to a bomb dropping on his life. 
Jake’s busy staring at you despite your averted gaze, and in a monotone voice, you say, “She feels bad.”
He doesn’t follow your eyes. “Because she knows I’ve been doing this all for you.”
You blink. Your hand runs down your face before sifting through the strands of your hair. “You really want me to live with you?”
“Of course I do,” he tells you. He’s shaking his head, but you know it’s because he thinks any idea that he wouldn’t want you to be blasphemous. His hand cups your chin. “I love you.”
With a sigh, you push aside the rollercoaster of emotions, the misunderstandings that lead to frustration and hurt, and look him directly in the eye. And where moments ago you thought you saw lies, you see honestly. Where you thought you saw betrayal, you see love. 
“Can I see it?”
It’s small—a two-bedroom with a little driveway, the shingle siding painted a blue-gray shade that is more blue than gray; bundles of flowers bloom in the boxes under the windows; a bay window protrudes from the side of the structure facing the beach. And it’s perfect.
You can imagine building a life here. You can picture a dog that you’ll have to build a fence for and children years later that will have you reinforcing the fence because they’ll probably be like their father, and Jake didn’t choose to be a pilot because of his lack of adventurous nature. You look at this house and you can see the core of a family. A house that, no matter how far you go for Jake’s job, will always be home base.
Jake is leaning around you so you can both watch the house from the passenger seat window. “I’d offer to show you around, but I don’t get the keys until morning.”
“It’s ok,” you tell him. “I don’t need to see inside.”
When you say that, he falls back into his seat. The back of his head presses against the headrest. His fingers squeeze the steering wheel with his sigh of defeat. “You don’t like it.”
Shifting your body to face him, you say, “Jake, I love it.”
Just like that, his eyes brighten like a pouting child who was just offered a lollipop, and you can’t help but chuckle. You can’t help but forget everything that happened earlier in the night, all of it seeming so insignificant now, even though you know it’s not, and you both know that if he ever makes the same mistake again, he’ll have hell to pay. But something tells you that won’t be a problem. 
“Enough to live with me?” he asks.
You nod. “Enough to live with you.”
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A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments make my entire world, so if you liked it, let me know? Thanks :)
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