#because every morning my teacher goes on and on about gods love

[stargazinglesbian]

i don't believe in Him but i want someone who does to tell me that they believe He could love me because deep down i don't think anyone can i want to reach out and plead and beg 'do you love me do you love people like me could you ever love someone like me do you think God loves me does your God love me'

[springwitch26]

flowers and firsts (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: being the gracious friend you are, you offer to share your weed with melissa and jacob for a fun friday night at their place. when jacob goes to bed, things get heated between you and your favorite coworker.

warnings: smut (18+), consensual high sex, recreational marijuana use (be responsible), strap-ons, praise kink, vibrators, soft melissa, stoner reader, attempts at comedy (it's a fun fic guys), mario kart 8 GONE SEXUAL

notes: happy 4/20. this wasn't requested, but my OCD is beating the fuck out of me rn and writing it brought me comfort. let me know what you think. much love from your favorite slutty stoner 💚

"i know kids are curious, but eighth grade is a bit early to try weed, right?" jacob bounced his leg anxiously as he raised the question to his friends in the teachers' lounge. one of his students had just been suspended for bringing marijuana to school, and jacob was characteristically worried about the kid.

"i started in tenth grade, but teenagers are growin' up younger and younger these days," melissa responded. barbara raised her eyebrows in shock, and melissa reacted with an amused half-smile. "like trouble over here. when was your first time, hon?"

you tried to ignore the innuendo as melissa invited you into the conversation. you had been hired to teach the third grade a few months ago. you and melissa had a rapport from the first moment you walked into the lounge. every time you were in a room together, you made each other laugh. melissa made you feel at ease in your new workplace, and you felt lucky to have her.

because you both got along so well, ava often paired you up for team-building exercises and combined-class activities. the two of you weren't exactly close friends yet, but you had chemistry. that much was obvious to everyone at abbott.

"tenth grade for me, too," you answered between sips of your morning coffee. "a friend and i did it in the bathroom before art class. good memories."

"what, did you have some kinda fancy vape pen?" melissa cocked an eyebrow at you.

"i wouldn't call it fancy, but yeah, we mostly smoked carts," you explained. "bought 'em from the upperclassmen in the parking lot before school. i'm pretty sure they weren't pure weed, though. we had to be smoking battery acid, or plastic or something."

"god, your generation is weird. smokin' chemicals out of a flash drive," melissa said, gesturing wildly to convey her amazement. "the first time i got high was in detention. my buddy steve would sneak in and bring us cigarettes and blunts. they all looked the same, so we played russian roulette with it. now everybody walks around with those neon devices in their pockets."

"i can't tell if you're being serious or if you're referencing the breakfast club," you giggled, nudging the redhead's shoulder jokingly as you sat down next to her.

"ha ha, very funny, little miss," melissa deadpanned. you had asked her to stop calling you "kid" a few weeks ago. she respected your wishes by coming up with all sorts of endearing synonyms to call you instead. "what about you, jacob? you used to vape—ever experimented with mary jane?"

"or mark john?" you added. melissa snorted and gave you a playful swat on the arm.

"no, actually, i haven't," jacob said, rolling his eyes at your quip. "i didn't have many friends in high school or college, and after that i had to be drug tested regularly for teachers without borders. i never got the chance."

"well, if you ever feel like trying something new, i have plenty to share," you offered. "can't have you over at my place, though; every time i bring guests around, my crazy neighbor thinks they're cia operatives."

everyone in the room except melissa gave you a shocked look. barbara looked especially aghast, her brightly painted lips curled into an 'o' shape.

"damn, i thought janine was the only after-school stoner here. what a pleasant surprise!" ava broke the silence.

"i suppose i would partake given one of those weed pens you mentioned," jacob said to you. "the only thing i've been vaping lately is air, and it gets stale after a while."

"oh no, i haven't used a cart since high school," you clarified. "if you're smoking with me, you're smoking. don't worry, it's easy. just like vaping, but better in every way."

"first of all, no smoke circle is happening under my roof without me." melissa chimed in, looking at you with a silent question in her eyes. you nodded—of course you wanted her there. "and second, where do you even get the weed? if you buy the legal stuff from new york or massachusetts, you're not bringin' it to my house."

"i wouldn't dream of it," you affirmed. "i only smoke authentic philly weed. don't worry about it; i got a guy."

---

that friday night, you showed up on melissa's doorstep wearing a casual t-shirt dress, with a tote bag full of goodies slung over your shoulder. jacob was the one to answer the door.

"hey! come on in, melissa's making pizza," he said cheerfully, a bit jittery with anticipation.

you followed jacob inside and found melissa leaning over the kitchen island, smiling fondly at you. she was wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitting striped shirt, with her hair loose and a bit messy from cooking. she looked radiant and comfortable.

"you know, the pizza will taste better if we smoke before dinner," you proposed.

"bold of you to assume my pizza could taste any better," melissa joked back.

"i'm game," jacob said. "i want the full marijuana experience."

"in that case, help me set up," you said to the history teacher. "i want you to see how everything works."

you laid the contents of your tote bag out on the island countertop: a ziploc baggie full of flower, a little purple grinder, a holographic pink bowl, and a yellow lighter with white flowers on it.

"jacob, this is a grinder," you said, uncapping the grinder and opening the ziploc bag. "we're gonna use it to break up the flower into little pieces."

"oh wow, that is... pungent," jacob remarked. he watched as you ground up the weed, then handed the pink glass bowl to him.

"and this is a bowl, or a pipe if you're lame," you said. "you wanna do the honors?"

jacob grinned and reached into the grinder, bouncing excitedly on his heels. you put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. he filled the bowl, looking to you for approval several times while he did it.

"awesome, we're ready," you said. melissa placed her pizza in the oven and joined the circle.

"let's take it out on the patio," melissa suggested.

she led you and jacob out to the patio, a small ledge overlooking the city with three chairs conveniently set up in a tight circle. it was 7pm and the sun had just begun its descent, casting philadelphia in an orange glow.

the three of you sat down. you held the bowl up to your lips and moved to light it, but melissa snatched the lighter from your hand. she leaned in and held the flame to the bowl, her face inches from yours. you tried to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than her painted lips or her vivid green eyes dancing all over you.

you took a long inhale of the smoke and blew it up toward the sky. melissa plucked the bowl out of your hand and took a hit. she held the smoke in her lungs for an impressive amount of time for someone who didn't smoke regularly. she passed the still-lit bowl to jacob.

as soon as jacob took his hit, you knew it was gonna hurt. he overestimated his own lung capacity, and he didn't even finish blowing the smoke out before he was coughing.

"happens to everybody, pal," melissa patted jacob's back to ease his pain.

"ugh!" jacob sputtered between coughs. "why didn't you guys tell me smoking hurts?"

---

several rotations later, the three of you were high. well, you and melissa were high; jacob was outright fried. not altogether unexpected, but funny as hell.

when melissa's pizza was done, you all resolved to eat outside so you could watch the sunset together.

"this is heavenly, mel," you moaned after a delicious bite of the pizza.

"ha!" jacob exclaimed, and you and melissa turned to him, confused. meeting melissa's gaze, he threw his arms up in the air—like he expected her to understand what he meant by that one noise. "she stole two syllables from your name. you can't just take syllables, y/n. they're not yours."

"since when do you care about private property rights?" you quipped back before turning your attention to melissa. "i'm serious though. this pizza is sooo good. like last-meal-on-death-row good."

"keep talkin' sweet like that, and you can call me whatever you want," melissa replied with a wink, sending a flood of warmth to your face.

"what were we talking about? just now?" jacob chimed in, his eyes wide and darting every which way.

"... i actually don't know," you said with a giggle. you tried to remember, you really did. but you could feel melissa's eyes on you, and you heard her words echoing in your head. and it was hard to focus on anything else.

"short term memory loss! add that to the list of things you guys didn't warn me about," jacob scoffed.

"jacob, eat your damn pizza," melissa cut in. a peaceful smile graced her lips as she stared out at the city skyline, now a twilight blue in the absence of the sun. "i've missed this feeling, everythin' all fuzzy and light. how are you holding up, lovebug?"

your heart fluttered at the endearing name. melissa, it seemed, wore her heart on her sleeve when she was high—judging by the adoring way she gazed at you while she awaited your response. maybe the weed was messing with your head, but you swore she'd never looked so beautiful.

her eyes lacked any trace of the fire you were used to seeing (though they were quite red). for once, she wasn't on guard. her plump lips curled around her wine glass as she took a sip of merlot, vocalizing her sensual appreciation with a hum.

her long auburn hair was tucked behind her ears, resting on her shoulders in loose waves instead of her preferred meticulous curls. you wanted to run your fingers through her locks, feel their softness and smell her shampoo.

entranced by the redhead, you forgot she had asked you a question. melissa tapped your knee in reminder.

"i feel perfect," was your soft reply. you were beaming brightly before the sentence even finished. rather than sitting in a chair, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. the colors of melissa's patio and the sky blended together in a beautiful, swirling mosaic. the sounds of the city were clear and pleasant as philly wound down for the night. "i'm so happy."

"glad to hear it, sunshine. but i'm pretty sure jacob is asleep," melissa chuckled and patted the man's shoulder. he didn't stir, remaining slumped and conked out in his chair. "he's been losin' sleep over the kid who got suspended. bending over backwards trying to keep 'em on track."

"oh gosh," you said sympathetically before patting jacob a bit more firmly than melissa had. "jacob, hey. c'mon, it's time for bed. get up, go get cozy."

your words were slurred and hushed, but they seemed to pierce the veil of jacob's slumber as he awoke with a start.

melissa stood behind jacob's chair, gently rocking it back and forth to bring him back to the conscious world.

"can't go to bed, we just started," jacob grumbled, but his eyes were still closed. he was dangerously close to falling asleep again.

"from the looks of it, you're either gonna spend the night sleepin' in this chair or in your bed, so get up," melissa said resolutely.

"yeah, and besides, there's always next time," you assured jacob as he stretched and groaned his way into an upright position. you made eye contact with melissa, and this time you winked.

---

after helping jacob into bed (his motor skills really deteriorated when he got high) and smoking another bowl together, you and melissa were ready to continue your night.

"alright, sweetheart, it's down to you and me," melissa said, sitting down next to you on the couch. "what do you wanna do?" you pondered the question, looking around the room for inspiration.

"oh my god, you have a nintendo switch?" you asked excitedly, gesturing to the black tablet plugged in next to the cable box.

"that's jacob's. he showed me one of the games on there—animal crossing, i think it was. i don't get it. why play a game if you can't win?"

"alright, i know what we have to do now," you said, walking over to jacob's game cabinet and pulling out mario kart 8. holding the case up for melissa to see, you grinned. "four races. whoever wins gets whatever she wants from the other."

you were distantly aware of the implications, but you were too high to reconsider what you'd proposed.

you figured melissa would want something from your thoroughly decorated classroom if she won. if you won, you'd ask her to make you a custom pizza.

"you have no idea what you just started, hon," melissa said with a confident smirk.

"may the best woman win."

---

how the hell was she so good at everything?

melissa had needed some time to warm up to the switch controls, complaining about how the little red rectangle was too small to hold comfortably. but she was a quick learner with skilled fingers, and soon she was absolutely demolishing you.

it also didn't help that your coordination escaped you when you were high. you had driven off of too many ledges to count.

"two wins in a row for luigi," melissa bragged as she crossed the finish line of the third race. "hope you're ready to give me whatever i want, princess. don't think i forgot about our bet."

"daisy won the first race," you pointed out calmly. "i can still bring it back. but you know what this last race has to be?"

"what?"

"rainbow road. it's the perfect final showdown course," you explained, navigating to the course with your controller.

"get ready to be mine for a night," melissa said lowly. god, you knew she was talking about the bet, but she knew damn well what she was doing. by this point your panties were almost uncomfortably wet.

you leaned into her unconsciously as the race countdown began. you both held your controllers tight, almost shoulder to shoulder.

3...

2... (you push down the gas pedal button)

1...

GO!!!

daisy took off with a boost of speed thanks to your timing. luigi had a false start as his engine blew out. you cheered, and melissa cursed.

"how the fuck do you do that?" she asked, exasperated.

"play the game!" you demanded without looking away from the screen.

the competition was intense. you and melissa weaved around curves, nearly fell off the road, passed and bumped each other. neither one of you spoke until lap 3.

coming up on one of the last turns of the last lap, your hands jerked and you swerved. reacting on instinct, you bent your arms dramatically in the other direction to overcorrect.

melissa's arm bumped into yours, sending your controller flying out of your hands.

"hey!" you said, thinking she was cheating.

"hey yourself," she said, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

if she was gonna play dirty, so were you. you thrust your arm forward to grab her controller. but she saw you coming from a mile away. effortlessly, she shifted the controller into her left hand alone and held it up and out of your reach.

desperately competitive (and stupid high), you launched yourself toward the controller. you'd stop at nothing to get even. before you could snatch it out of her grasp, though, your balance faltered. you fell out of your position and started to fall backwards off the couch.

melissa dropped the controller and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you back up before you could hurt yourself. there was only one problem with this heroic act.

you were in her lap now.

her hands remained clasped at the small of your back, and your balance shifted forward. you put your arms out for stability, and wrapped them around her neck.

"careful, don't hurt your pretty head," melissa cooed. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. she surged forward and pressed her lips to yours.

if sitting outside with her felt like floating, kissing her and feeling her body against yours felt like riding the ocean waves. but unlike the atlantic, she was warm. you relaxed into her warmth as her tongue licked into your mouth.

you felt her tongue everywhere. in response to her, you gave a few tentative kitten licks. she moaned, she moaned, and pulled back before giving you one last kiss on the lips.

she stared at you with heated eyes for a while before switching her focus to the tv.

"look, baby," she said smugly while gesturing to the tv screen, where luigi was driving victory laps after placing first on rainbow road. "i won. you remember what that means?"

it was a fair question, considering how many conversations you forgot happened tonight. still, you nodded shyly and bit your lip.

"smart girl," melissa praised. "can you guess what i want from you?"

you shook your head no with a frown. melissa beamed and kissed you on the forehead. then she leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"i wanna touch you everywhere. i wanna hear your pretty voice moan my name and see your face scrunch up when you come. i want you to feel me all over you, and i want you to spend the rest of your life craving that feeling," melissa said her piece all at once, as if revealing a long-buried secret to you and herself.

you swallowed.

"would you let me do that?"

you nodded, pressing your forehead against hers.

"i need to hear you say it," she said softly, so softly you almost missed it.

"i want you, melissa. i have since the day we met."

that was all the confirmation melissa needed to attack your face and neck with kisses.

"sorry, let me just," melissa said as she pulled away abruptly and reached for the tv remote. she changed it to cable mode and navigated to the jazz music channel. "there we go, perfect."

"you're ridiculous," you giggled upon seeing melissa's proud face.

"honey," she leaned in to nip at your ear before whispering, "watch your mouth. you wanna be on my good side tonight, trust me."

you shuddered and wiggled in her lap, aching for her touch. a slow grin spread across her face and her hands found your legs, running up your thighs and lightly dragging her nails along your skin. they soon made their way up your waist to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them. melissa even took two fingernails and circled your nipples teasingly, to which you squeaked.

"do you know how many times i thought about havin' you like this?" melissa whispered. her voice was sweet like molasses and flowed right through you. you could feel your nipples tingling where her fingers had been, swimming in a bubble of desire. "in my lap, all whiny and squirmy."

she pinched your nipple and you keened. you held your breath as her hands once again traveled to your thighs, making a beeline for your core.

"and now i got my angel in my arms," she said, gently spreading your legs for better access. you sucked in a breath and trembled when her palm caressed you through your panties. "but i gotta say, even in my imagination you were never this wet for me."

she punctuated the sentence by pressing her pointer finger on your clit through the fabric, drawing tiny circles. you gasped and hid your face in her neck. the high made every touch feel like it rippled through your whole body. the world felt like it had been knocked off its axis, and melissa was your new center of gravity.

"aw, don't be embarrassed, babygirl. it's cute you're so sensitive," melissa soothed, easing you out of the crook of her neck to face her again. she trailed her fingers down to swirl around your wetness under your panties. "let me take care of you, yeah?"

---

a few minutes later, you were spread out on melissa's bed, naked save for your (now useless) panties. she'd practically carried you to her room as you were baked and horny and unable to walk straight.

in spite of your writhing and needy whines, the redhead took her time to savor you. she kissed every inch of your torso before she even considered taking your panties off, mumbling sweet nothings between love bites.

when she finally pulled away to admire her work, the view did not disappoint. you were panting and covered in melissa's marks, and god, you were her favorite piece of art ever created. all hers.

"alright, sweet girl, i know," she cooed as you continued to plead for her touch with your best pout and puppy eyes. unable to resist you, melissa hooked two fingers in the waistband of your panties. "i'm gonna slip these off ya, okay? there, down they go."

melissa discreetly tucked the saturated material into her pocket. not as a trophy or proof of her conquest; rather, a token from the first of many magical nights with her girl. she would treasure it.

she wasted no time getting situated between your legs so she was face-to-face with your pussy. she inhaled deeply, basking in the heady aroma of your arousal. you overwhelmed her senses. everything she saw, everything she smelled, everything she felt, everything she thought—it was all one big, bottomless pool of you. and there was only one sense left for you to conquer.

the first drag of her tongue up your slit set you ablaze, flames licking from your core all the way to your extremities and your head. she let out a small noise of appreciation, and you felt it more than you heard it.

"you taste like fuckin' heaven," melissa rumbled between determined licks through your folds. her comment reminded you of the pizza, and you found yourself amused at how much things had changed in just a few hours.

"last-meal-on-death-row good?" you joked, and melissa seized the moment of levity to latch onto your clit. you cried out before remembering jacob was sleeping in the next room. you clapped a hand over your mouth.

"mhmmmmm," she moaned in agreement, and the vibrations on your bundle felt incredible. "but if you're still crackin' jokes, i'm not doin' my job."

with that, she shut you up completely. her tongue poked at your clit between harsh sucks. your back arched and melissa changed her strategy, prodding at your entrance with her tongue while her fingers took over on your clit. when her tongue penetrated you, you bit down on your hand to keep from screaming.

"i said i wanna hear you, remember?" melissa pulled out to chastise you.

"but jacob—" you managed.

"is passed out. he's dead to the world. now sing for me, angel," melissa's tongue dove back into your weeping cunt and lapped at your walls. you wailed her name.

"oh, mel, right—ahhh—there!" you mewled as her tongue teased your most sensitive spot. now that she'd located her target, melissa changed her play once again. two fingers replaced her tongue and crooked into your g-spot while her mouth returned to your clit. "close..."

melissa nodded her permission, her mouth busy with your button. with another hard roll of your clit between her lips and drive of her fingers into your sweet spot, you fell apart. you moaned and cried unbidden as she worked you through your orgasm, which felt twice as powerful thanks to the intoxication factor. your body shook in the grip of seemingly endless waves of heat.

your climax eventually died down and you squirmed away from melissa's touch. your mouth opened in dismay when instead of staying by your side, she stood up and disappeared into her closet.

after a short while, the older woman reappeared by your side. she was now nude and sporting a long, girthy strap-on. she placed a few other items on the nightstand, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the thick faux cock. unless it was to look at her gorgeous tits, which swung with her every move. she was a goddess.

"okay, sweets, i'm gonna spell this out nice and slow because i know your brain is a little messy right now," she said as she crawled on top of you. "i'm gonna fuck you with my strap. and i know it's so big, but i have this to help you take it."

melissa reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a green mini wand vibrator. her intentions were clear, and you gulped. the redhead peppered kisses all over your face in reassurance.

"now relax, little love. let me in," melissa instructed as the wand buzzed to life. she smeared your wetness around your clit with her fingers, then pulled back its hood to position the vibrator tightly against your nub. even the lowest setting was a shock at such a direct angle.

while you were distracted trying to adjust to the clitoral stimulation, melissa aligned the tip of the dildo with your entrance and pushed in. you both groaned, and you felt yourself stretch around the toy. melissa turned up the vibrations on your clit as she progressed to being fully seated inside you.

"that's a good girl, so brave," melissa cooed. you thrashed underneath her, the sensations overstimulating you. the pain of the intrusion staved off a powerful orgasm from the wand vibrator.

again, you wondered if the drugs were messing with your mind—the dildo felt indistinguishable from a part of mel's body, and you were full to the brim of her.

as she began to rock her hips back and forth, you saw her bite her lip. you assumed that the strap had some kind of clit attachment for her based on the telltale signs of pleasure.

melissa built up a steady rhythm and drank in your pathetic sounds of pleasure. her tits swung in your face with every thrust, and you made a mental note to give them proper attention next time. with another tactical increase to the wand's speed, you felt yourself approaching the edge once more.

"you gettin' close? yeah, i can tell. feels too good to hide it, huh bunny?" that was a new one. you clenched at her words and she set the wand to its maximum power, rubbing it up and down on your clit. your vision went white and you spun out of reality as you came. "that's my girl. good little princess, coming so hard for me."

with a few more thrusts, melissa also came to a release. she shuddered and shimmied her hips at random while she rode it out. as soon as she recovered, she turned off the green wand and relieved you. next, she eased herself out of and off of you.

with a chaste peck to your lips, she sat upright and reached for the nightstand. she smiled at your fucked-out expression as she laid out the pajamas she'd picked out for you.

you watched in awe as she took off the strap and put on her own sleep clothes. her red hair was wild from the night's activities and glowed like a warm hearth against the white backdrop of her walls.

in your state, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with melissa and fall asleep. but she insisted that you get ready for bed so that you'd be comfortable through the night. she guided you into the bathroom and gave you a new toothbrush to use.

returning to the bedroom, you found a silky green nightgown with flowers on it waiting on the bed for you. given your exhausted and intoxicated state, melissa had to help you into it. neither of you minded. as a reward for your cooperation, she gave you a kiss.

the two of you snuggled into bed, tucked in together with you curled up against her chest. the tides of slumber lapped at your feet.

"g'night, lovebug," melissa whispered as you drifted off. "sleep well. see you in the morning."

and tomorrow would be the first of a lifetime of tomorrows waking up in her arms.

[janeyseymour]

I Hate You, I Love You- part 1

Summary: you hate melissa schemmenti with every fiber of your being. but when she’s the only one you can think of when your mother asks if you’re dating anyone, you find yourself in a sticky situation.

WC: ~2.3k

There’s something about that redheaded second grade teacher that you can’t stand. You can’t quite name it. Maybe it’s the fact that she flaunts around like she owns the damn school. Perhaps it’s how she’s always making snarky comments and can never seem genuine. Or it could be that her hair is that shade of red that you know is fake, and she comes into the school with it so perfectly curled and that stupid smug grin of hers. It might be that you never know what she’s thinking because she has such a damn good poker face. You’ve considered the fact that you can’t stand her is because of the way she dresses- showing off her body in such a way that makes you question just how much you hate her. Okay… so you might think she’s hot as hell, but that does not negate the fact that she is a stuck-up, snarky, rough around the edges teacher with an ego the size of-

“Y/N,” your grade partner snaps her fingers in your face a few times. “You with us?”

You shake your head out of your thoughts, and you’re back in the Abbott Elementary library. “Huh? What’s up?”

“Oh good, you’ve decided to join us again,” Melissa rolls her eyes. It takes everything in you to not smack that stupid smirk off of her face. “The meeting’s done. We have the rest of the morning to work on our data analyses with our grade.”

Another two hours of having to sit in the same room as the other second grade teachers? Janine is one thing, but Melissa is an entirely different being. You don’t know how you’re going to survive this.

“Oh,” you sigh instead. “Okay, yeah. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Just gotta uh… pee.” It’s not necessarily a lie, but you mostly just want the few minutes to yourself to collect your thoughts and get your rage under control.

“Thanks for sharing with the class.” Your colleague turns on her heel, calling for Janine as she goes. As much as you hate yourself for it, you can’t help but watch the way that her hips sway or how bouncy her hair is. A shade of red finds its way into your cheeks before you sigh deeply and begin to gather your things. 

By some grace of God, you manage to survive the morning in the presence of your awful co-worker without too many bitchy comments that make you want to either throw up or punch Melissa in the face. It helps that Janine is there as the middle man, so whenever she can see that either of you are ready to start going at each other, she intervenes with her own ridiculous idea- that gets the two of you to jump on her together. The shorter teacher isn’t necessarily excited to have to be the scapegoat, but she just wants to keep the peace.

The afternoon is peaceful for you. It’s time for you to get everything in order, go through paperwork, and then prepare the materials that you’ll need for next week. All is going well until you realize that you need to get the beakers from Janine for your science lesson. You make your way across the hall and knock on her doorframe gently.

“Teagues, you got the beakers in here? I need ‘em to teach my kids about liquids on Monday.”

She turns to you with a smile. “Actually, Melissa has them. I can go grab them for you though if you-”

“I got it,” you sigh. “Thanks though.” You really don’t want to have to go speak with the redhead, but you want to remain professional. So, you make your way to her classroom and knock on the doorframe as you lean against it.

“What?” the gruff voice asks, head in her closet. It gives you the perfect opportunity to stare at her body.

“I- I need the beakers for my science lesson next week, and Teagues said you had them,” you tell her.

When she turns, you hope the blush in your cheeks disappears before she can see it. “Yeah. They’re on the counter. Just bring ‘em back all in one piece, you hear?”

“Loud and clear, Drill Sarge,” you roll your eyes as you mock salute her.

There’s a mischievous glint in those green eyes that you hate as she smirks. “I like the way you take orders now. Submissive. I like that.” She throws you a wink, and then she rolls her eyes at you.

You nearly choke on the air you had just taken in. Without another word, you make your way into her classroom and grab the materials you need before quickly making your way out and back to your room. Her eyes linger on your own figure

When you’re in the comfort of your own classroom, you feel yourself sweating. The woman that you hate is making you feel all hot and bothered, and you hate it. You hate her. You refuse to step back into her classroom for the rest of the day.

But when you’re leaving, there’s something in you that makes you stop by both her and Janine’s room before exiting the building for the weekend. You say your goodbyes to Janine before knocking gently on Melissa’s doorframe.

"Have a good weekend, Schemmenti,” you grumble.

“Don’ tell me what kind of weekend to have,” the redhead shoots back without looking up. You can’t tell, but she’s smirking. She loves to get under your skin.

“Or don’t,” you mutter as you walk away from her room. “I don’t really care.”

You’re sitting at home nursing your third glass on wine with your glasses on as you watch trash reality television when your mother calls. Just tipsy enough to answer, you accept the call.

“Hey, Mom,” you try to sound as happy as you can. You wish she hadn’t called- phone conversations with her are always much longer than you would like, and your program was just getting good when she decided to dial.

“Y/N!” Your mother sounds delighted. “You answered.”

“I usually do,” you roll your eyes.

You hear your mother scoff just slightly. “Well, it’s a Friday night, so I was expecting you to be out on the town or something and not have time for your old mom.”

“Mom,” you sigh.

“I was just going to leave a voicemail telling you that your aunt is coming up for dinner tomorrow, and if you don’t have any plans…”

“I’ll be there,” you concede. You know you have nothing going on tomorrow, and your aunt isn’t your least favorite person in the world- no, that would be Melissa Schemmenti.

“Oh how wonderful!” your mother sounds thrilled that she didn’t have to try to convince you harder. “Dinner starts at seven, but if you wanted to come earlier to-”

“Yeah, Mom,” you hum into the phone. “Listen, as much as I would love to continue chatting with you on the phone, I will see you tomorrow, and I have to pee.”

“Great, thanks baby, bye!” You knew the little white lie of telling her you had to use the restroom would get her off the phone. She’s never liked people being on their phones while in the bathroom. 

The next day, you’re regretting your decision to make your way over for dinner, but you already committed, so you have to show. You don’t think you can handle one more phone call lecturing you about not loving your parents enough to make time for them.

You pull up with a bottle of wine and a tray of deviled eggs in your hand when the door flies open. Your mom plucks the food out of your hands while your aunt pulls you into a tight hug.

“My beautiful Y/N!” she cries happily. “You’re so beautiful!”

You hug her back warmly. “Hey Aunt Jo. Thank you, but I haven’t changed much since you saw me two months ago.”

“Well, I’m sure some things have changed,” she tuts. “What with working in a school and all, everything is always changing, and I can’t wait to hear all about it!”

Conversation is nice and light until your family settles on the couch and begins to chat about holiday plans. Christmas is only a few weeks away after all.

“And Y/N,” Aunt Jo claps her hands. “I’m assuming you’ll be here for the holidays?”

“Always am,” you chuckle, taking yet another sip of your wine. This must be your third or fourth at this point. “You know I am.”

“And will you be bringing anybody?” You shake your head, and you regret that decision immediately when your aunt giggles. “Well, I may have found the perfect one for you.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Aunt Jo’s trademark is playing matchmaker. She’s always done it, and she probably won’t stop doing it until the day she dies. She had gotten your parents together, she fixed your uncle up with his wife, and she’s known as Cupid at her old place of employment.

“I appreciate it, but I don’t think I’ll be needing your assistance in that department anytime soon,” you try to let her down easily.

Nothing comes without a consequence though, and your mother leans forward in her seat. “And why would that be? Given up on dating?”

“You could say that,” you snort.

Your father’s eyes widen just slightly. “What aren’t you tellin’ us, kid?”

You shrug. You don’t feel like dating, you aren’t quite sure you ever want to again- not after the flames that your last relationship ended in. And without dating, you’ll never get married, and you’ll never give your parents the grandchild they so desperately want.

“Nora,” your dad nudges his wife with his elbow. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Y/N has a special person in her life and ain’t telling us.”

Aunt Jo looks at you, imploring you to confirm your father’s suspicion. So does your mother. And because you have a bit of liquid courage in your system, you give one firm nod. A little white lie never hurt anybody. But, you’re you- and things can never be put to rest when it comes to you. Immediately, your parents and aunt are firing questions out at you.

“Well, what’s their name?” your dad asks as he sips his whiskey.

You hadn’t thought this far, so you remain quiet as you silently go through the list of single people in your life. That list has gotten smaller and smaller, and it isn’t like you can name one of your old friends from high school because your mother would immediately dial their number for confirmation.

“Well?” Your dad looks at you expectantly.

When you still don’t answer, your mother elbows him with a roll of her eyes. “Let it rest, Al.” You think you’re in the clear. “She won’t tell us because she’s lyin’- just trying to get us off her back.” Your mother folds her arms over her chest and gives you a look to challenge her.

Before you can stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth, you say, “I’m not lying, Mom. Her name is Melissa. Melissa Schemmenti.”

Shit. Why did you say that?

“Oh? Melissa? Surely you have a picture of the two of you together,” your mom continues to push.

Not wanting her to find out that you’re lying completely, you pull out your phone and open up your gallery. There’s one photo of the two of you on Halloween last year- the one day of school that Janine called out of, so you and your work enemy were forced to take a picture, just the two of you, for the second grade team’s picture.

Your mother gives it a glance before looking at you, clearly impressed.

“You’re dating a coworker of yours? Pretty woman.”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “We’ve kept it kind of quiet though for a while now.”

“Well, if the two of you have been dating for a while, surely she’ll be coming with you to Christmas.”

“Mom,” you try to find a way out of this somehow now extravagant web of lies. “She’s doing stuff with her family.”

“She can’t take a couple days to spend it with her girlfriend?” Aunt Jo cuts in.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. Wow, you’re more drunk than you thought you were. “I’ll talk to her, okay?”

“We look forward to seeing the both of you,” your father says pointedly. “Now, it’s getting late, you’re drunk. Go sleep it off, and I’ll have breakfast on the table at nine tomorrow.”

You make your rounds, kissing each of them goodnight, before trudging up the steps. God, you really shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine. You hope to God both your parents and your aunt were on the same level that you are right now- hopefully, they’ll forget what you said about having a girlfriend.

But come the next morning, at breakfast, all three of them make remarks about being excited to meet the redhead. And when you finally go to leave, your mother makes a comment about maybe bringing Melissa around to meet them before the entire family gets together.

As you walk to your car, you can’t help but curse. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. What are you going to do? They remember, they’ve seen a picture of her so it isn’t like you can hire an actor to play her, and nobody breaks up this close to the holidays. You’re going to have to ask her for help when you go to work on Monday.

Fuck.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch

[moonstruckme]

hi mae!!

would you be interested in writing something with steve (or any of the boys you write for) learning asl for their hard of hearing partner?

if not i totally understand!! luv ya 🩷🩷

Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting!

Steve Harrington x hearing imparied!reader ♡ 558 words

“This is embarrassing,” Robin signs. 

“It is not.” You grin, rolling your eyes at her. “It’s sweet. He’s trying.” 

“SLOWER,” Steve finger spells, every letter emphatic. 

“Sorry,” you say aloud, laughing. “We were just—”

“Just talking about how embarrassing this is for you,” Robin says.

“No,” you look at Steve, but he’s only rolling his eyes, “we weren’t.” 

“I’ll bet she was,” he says into your ear, draping an arm across your shoulders. The three of you are taking up the entire sidewalk, not that anyone’s downtown to mind. One of the perks of Steve working the night shift at Family Video is that now he actually wakes up before noon to do things with you before work, and during summer in Hawkins you won’t find many people out in the mornings. It feels like you’ve got the town to yourselves. “Some of us weren’t in the special classes in high school, though.” 

“Hey, if you thought it was more worth your time to practice your keg stands,” Robin skips ahead of you, turning around and spreading her hands helplessly, “that was your prerogative. I’m just saying that if anyone is Y/N’s soulmate, it’s looking like it’s me.”

You see the look in Steve’s eyes and know what he’s about to do a second before he signs, “Shut up,” with enough gusto to make Robin’s high school ASL teacher proud. You’d taught him that one last week, and it’s been his favorite sign ever since. His most practiced by far. 

Robin only sticks out her tongue. You smile as Steve tugs you closer against his side, his skin and the material of his shirt sun-warmed against your arm. You love how badly he wants to do this for you. Every night for the past couple of weeks, you’ve been teaching him, and though Steve gets frustrated easily, he’s determined. The other day, you’d caught him signing “cereal” absentmindedly to himself while looking through the pantry. 

You know he’s learning because he’s a sweetheart and wants to make things easier for you, but Robin swears he just feels left out of the club. 

“Okay, I’ve got a question.” Steve retracts his arm and turns to you, walking sideways. His face goes serious as he concentrates. “Do. You. Want. To.” He signs every word, so intentional. Bless him, he’s trying so hard. “Go. Get…” He finishes the last sign, and you and Robin both burst out laughing. 

His face falls. “What?” he asks aloud.

“Steve,” you say around a giggle, “where did you learn that?” 

Steve looks lost for approximately one more second, and then his eyes narrow on Robin. 

“You can’t blame me for taking the easy shot,” she says. There are tears in her eyes. “You’re just too gullible.” 

“What did I say?” he asks, and you lean up to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god.” He rolls his eyes at Robin. “What are you, twelve? I was trying to ask if you wanted pizza, you pervs.” 

“Maybe just take lessons from me from now on.” You take his hand, intertwining your fingers. Steve huffs and tugs you closer. 

“Wait,” he says, “so, does this—” he signs with his free hand “—not mean ice cream?” 

“Oh, honey.” You try to look sorry for your boyfriend, but it’s hard when you’re grinning so big. “No, it doesn’t.”

[seeingivy]

pls do "the story of us" for ur gojo x taylor swift series 🙏🙏

the story of us

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: gojo is ur roommates best friend, he is annoying (more teen gojo I am arrogant bastard vibes then sweetie teacher baby gojo), hoes are fighting, hoes are in the most complicated situationship on the planet earth, mistletoe, ice skating, sukuna as an annoying ex, mysterious evil dad figure for gojo

an: proof im the most annoying writer ever. made a poll for taylor as gojo to, for a second time now, ignore those options and write a completely different songs. sincerest apologies but gojo as taylor fans come get yall juice.

--

“Good morning, you hag.” Satoru states, in a fell swoop, crashing any hopes you had of having a good morning. 

“Good morning, you garden troll.” you respond. 

You rub the sleep out of your eyes, rummaging through the cabinets for a bowl, as he jumps up off the couch and joins you in the kitchen, keen and eager to annoy you bright and early in the morning. 

He’s leaning on the granite countertops at your side, his blue eyes peering over those god awful sunglasses he’s always intent on wearing - despite the fact that it’s quite literally raining outside - and gives you a jeering smile. 

“So, do all girls wear granny nightgowns or is it just you?” he asks, twisting the end of your pigtail braids in his hair. You immediately smack his hand off and glare, turning around to reach for the milk. 

“Do all boys have tiny dicks and overcompensate with a shitty personality or is it just you?” you iterate back, earning a satisfying glare back from him. 

With his snow white hair and annoyingly glimmering blue eyes, your roommate's best friend, Satoru Gojo, is quite literally the biggest nuisance you’ve ever met in your life. Clearly a rich kid, trust fund type, you can tell that Satoru, in earnest, has never worked a day in his life. And his lack of tact and self awareness truly reflects that. 

It’s embedded deep in the way that he acts. Because Satoru saunters from place to place, showing up at your apartment with no consideration or respect for you and Suguru, bats his pretty eyes at his professors when he’s failing, flirts with girls before he cheats off of their tests, and the list goes on and on. 

 One thing is clear. That he’s a spineless, pathetic little manchild. 

And you’re not sure why, what it is specifically about you, but he’s clearly made it his personal mission in life to antagonize and irritate you.Maybe it’s the fact that you yelled at him the first time he ever showed up in this apartment, that you couldn’t help but disagree with every word that came out of his mouth, that at his core he just agitated you - but it led you to this horrible predicament that you’re in now. 

That you ended up having to room with Suguru, when Sukuna dumped you and kicked you out. And that, of course, the universe was always in your favor, and you ended up at the one place Satoru was when he wasn’t shamelessly flirting with any living organism, which was right outside your room. 

Right on cue, the front door slams open and Suguru’s barging in, wildly out of breath and panting. His usual fixed, pristine bun is in a mess, his pupils wide and dilated as he looks at the two of you. 

“Fucking perfect!” he pants, leaning down on his knees and trying to catch his breath. 

“G’morning Suguru. You okay, there?” you ask, giving him a strange look. 

“Okay, okay. You guys are dating.” 

“Huh?” you both ask, eyes boggling out of your heads. 

“You’re dating. Be-be in love, I don’t know, be in love!” he shouts, immediately running back out of the door and slamming the door shut. 

You and Satoru give each other a look before shrugging, returning back to your bowl of cereal and Gojo to his phone. And on cue, Suguru strolls back into the apartment, more calmly and with a girl at his side. His cheeks are still flushed in pink, the panting subsided but still present in his voice.

“Y/N, Satoru, this is Hiromi. Hiromi, this is my roommate Y/N and her boyfriend, Satoru.” 

You swallow hard, realizing quickly what’s happening here. And out of the kindness of your heart, groan at the fact that you’re going to have to oblige. 

Three months ago, you got dumped by Sukuna. Because as much as you and the two of you had moved past, he had finally exhausted all ends and had enough of you.

Quite literally, enough of you, because he went as far as packing your things and taking your key, fully intent on never letting you back in. And out of the kindness of his heart, one of your only friends - who was free of any attachments to Sukuna - had an empty room in his apartment that he offered to lease to you. 

Suguru, naturally, was the perfect roommate. Always cleaned up after himself, offered to listen whenever you needed him, saved leftovers for you when you had a long day. Except for the stupid white haired plus one that came with him, it was perfect. 

For you. Because while Suguru was all but willing to offer you the spot in the room, insisting that it never caused an issue, he might have been fibbing the truth to save your feelings. Something you found out from Satoru, who is naturally a loudmouth. 

That since Suguru has a female roommate, you’ve put a damper on his…..romantic endeavors. Because they’re increasingly enthusiastic, so into him, until the shit hits the fan. 

They find out that you’re his roommate. And you think it’s a little ridiculous, but they all cite the same reason for not talking to him past the second or third date. Because to them, there’s no way in hell that he isn’t crushing on you, that you don't cuddle at night, and that you definitely coddle each other in a way no one else does. 

Because nothing is more ironic than losing a guy to the girl he lives with and they’d rather cut their losses before getting involved. 

Which proves that Suguru must really like this girl. Because if he’s going this far, lying to her the second before she walks in, it must mean that he really wants her to stick around. 

Is it moral? No. Is Suguru lonely? Yes. 

“Hiromi. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” you respond, setting your bowl down and extending a hand to her. 

She gives you a warm smile back, laughing at Satoru flaunting some stupid line about chivalry before he presses a kiss on top of her knuckles. Satoru must be enjoying himself too much, because he’s now snaking his hand around your waist, leaning down to press his temple against yours. 

“Would you like to stay for breakfast? Poor Suguru has third wheeled with us far enough.” he asks, as she politely nods in response. 

You and Satoru lead Hiromi to the breakfast table - Satoru now eating your bowl of cereal - as Suguru starts setting out to make breakfast for all of you. You and Satoru sit side by side, sparing each other an awkward glance, as Hiromi shamelessly ogles you. 

“So how long have you guys been dating?” Hiromi asks, politely folding her hands flat on the table. 

“Well. Um, I moved here right after I broke up with my ex-boyfriend. He kind of left me with no place to live and I kind of met Satoru here. And then it just happened.” you mumble, cheeks turning pink. 

Satoru, again, has no concept of personal boundaries. He slings his hand around your shoulders, planting a wet kiss on your cheeks, before responding to her. 

“Don’t mind her, she just gets really shy when she talks about her feelings for me.” 

“Satoru.” 

“But rest assured, I promise you that you don’t have to worry about Suguru and Y/N, if that’s what you’re trying to pry about.” 

Her face immediately goes pink, as you look over at Satoru, who flashes you a knowing smile and squeezes your shoulder. 

“I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to pry, I hope you understand. It’s just that…it’s kind of a weird situation. And I know that probably says more about my insecurities than anything but-” 

You reach over, placing your hand over her folded ones. 

“It’s a normal thing to be concerned about. If I was you, I probably would have asked a hundred berating questions already.” 

“Yeah. She gets really possessive.” Gojo unhelpfully adds. 

You shoot him a glare, before returning to look at her and smiling. 

“But I promise, you have nothing to worry about. I-I don’t even think about Suguru like that. And we’re never here alone, Satoru’s always here with me.” 

“Like you, I too am possessive over my girl. Despite the fact that she quite literally makes it so easy for us by wearing the most unflattering pajamas, I’ll be here to stamp out any budding feelings, if that makes you feel better.” 

“Yeah. Satoru really knows how to take the romance out of a room. I know better than anyone.” you respond, earning a laugh from Hiromi as she releases that awkward tension in her shoulders. 

 

You kick the tiny divots on the floor, patiently waiting for your matcha latte at the bar. Your anxiety is growing by the second, the unexpected morning rush and the heavy foot traffic outside indicating that you were going to be late to your morning class if your drink wasn’t made in the next few minutes. 

You’re thrown out of your thoughts by a tapping on your shoulder, only to find a boy, with blonde hair and brown eyes smiling at you. 

“I like your shirt.” 

You look down, at your boygenius the record shirt, and look up to smile at him. 

“Thank you! What’s your favorite song?”

“We’re In Love.” he responds, giving you a warm smile. 

You’re not sure why, but hearing him say the words has the blood rushing to your cheeks. You hold your hand out to him, swallowing that deep warm pit in your throat. 

“Y/N.” 

“Kento. It’s nice to meet you.” 

And really, the moment - your stupid coffee shop meet cute - comes crashing down when you hear that agitating, grating voice at your side. 

“And I’m Satoru!” Satoru states, standing at your side and too blissfully happy for seven in the morning. You glare at him, as he gives you an annoyingly irritating smile. 

“Your drink is here, babe.” Satoru states, holding your dark green matcha latte in his nimble hands. From the way it’s half full, you can tell he already downed half of it in the few seconds you were talking to Kento. 

“Thank you.” you grate out, giving Kento an awkward smile. 

“Well, Kento. It was nice meeting you but we have a class to get to.”  Satoru adds. 

He cocks his head to the side, blue eyes peeking over his sunglasses, as he looks at you. 

“Ready to go?” 

You groan, knowing internally that whatever shred of a moment you just had was gone, as you sigh. 

“Yes. Bye Kento.” 

You glare at him as you walk out of the store, Satoru reaching over to pull the hood of your rain jacket up, as the two of you start marching through the downpour. He’s walking at your side, sporting some very light clothes for the way it’s raining down. 

“I don’t like matcha. We should start getting iced vanilla lattes.” 

“I didn’t realize we were sharing. And that was really rude, Satoru.“

“Everything that’s yours is mine, sweetheart.” 

“Really? What are the three numbers on the back of your credit card, boo boo bear?” 

“666.” he responds, flicking the side of your cheek. 

“That’s fitting.” you murmur back, as he slides the drink out of your hand, again. 

You and Satoru march in silence, trudging through the puddles collecting in the holes of pavement, the silence enveloping the two of you. 

And really, for what seems like the hundredth time, you’re racking your brain trying to figure Satoru Gojo out. You’re not sure what it is about him, what drives him to act the way he does, but every answer you find leaves you with a hundred more questions you want to answer. 

In the few months you’ve been living with Suguru, you’ve been able to ascertain a few things. 

First and foremost, there is no one Satoru Gojo loves more than his friends. From the way he affectionately talks about Suguru, and their hometown friend Shoko, it’s evident enough that whatever friendship he has with the two of them means the world to him. 

Second, Satoru Gojo is extremely comfortable in his sense of self. From the way he carries himself, enthusiastically chats with strangers on the train and feels so comfortable stealing your lattes after the bar, you can tell that no one has tried to stomp that spirit out of him. Other people, more meek and timid like you perhaps, get that childlike wonder stamped out of them. But here Satoru Gojo is, at the ripe age of twenty-one, still sporting it like a proud badge he wears. 

And third, Satoru Gojo loves to irritate you. You’re not sure what it is about you exactly, whether it’s the fact that you’re Suguru’s roommate so it leaves you off limits to any of his usual charming compliments he leaves for other girls, but Satoru treats you like no one else. Always pulling at the ends of your hair, “lovingly” making fun of your clothes, and obviously, stamping any chance you have of romantic endeavors. 

Satoru swings the door open for you, walking all the way to the front of your class. He holds out a five dollar bill and gives you a cheeky grin.

“What for?” 

“Thanks for the latte, princess.” 

You glare, snatching the bill out of his hands. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Right on cue, a girl all but appears out of thin air at your side, giving you and Satoru sickly sweet smiles. 

“Hi Satoru.” 

Satoru’s leaning against the frame now, an irritating move you’ve seen him do countless times - one to show off his stupidly toned arms - as he leans down and smiles at her. 

“Hi Sammy. How are you?” 

“Pretty good, now that you’re here.” she responds, twisting the ends of her hair in between her fingers. 

You fight the urge to gag as Satoru laughs, leaning forward to tuck the stray hairs by the side of her ear. 

“Right, so. I’ll see you later, babe?” you ask Satoru, giving him a smile. 

He looks over, glaring with his bright, angry blue eyes. 

“Y/N.” he responds, tone warning. 

“And Satoru, sweetheart? Do remember to grab toilet paper on the way home. Suguru is getting really tired of cleaning up your skid marks.” you respond, reaching forward to pinch his cheek and settling into your seat at the front, watching him seethe at the front door. 

--

When you walk into the apartment, Satoru’s incessant comments are the final nail in the coffin on what might be the worst day ever. 

“Ouch. I think I just went temporarily blind. You look horrible.” Satoru asks, momentarily taking his eyes off of the movie he was watching with Suguru and Hiromi. 

And the comment - so pathetically hitting you the last place you needed it - is enough to send you crying in a fit of your tears, as you lock the door behind you. 

Satoru looks over to find Suguru and Hiromi glaring at him, Suguru more angry and Hiromi more disappointed. He can’t pick which one is worse. Well actually, you crying in his face is the worst thing that happened in the past few minutes, but their reaction is right up there with them. 

“What?” Satoru asks, shrugging. 

“Satoru.” Suguru berates.

“What? I was just joking.” 

“I don’t understand how you and Y/N are dating. I mean, you can hardly even call it that.” Hiromi states, looking at him rather unhelpfully. 

Suguru’s eyes go wide at her side and Satoru swallows hard, thinking of his collateral. Because in earnest, Satoru’s not really sure what Suguru sees in Hiromi, why he would ever think this would be the best solution to his issue. 

But when you followed Suguru’s lead, all Satoru could really do was oblige. 

“That’s just how Y/N and I communicate. It’s our love language.” Satoru says, giving her a halfhearted smile. 

“You know she hates it right?” Hiromi asks. 

“Well, I don’t know about-” 

“Who would want to wake up every morning and have someone just constantly berating them? Just teasing them, making fun of every little thing you say. And sure, it’s fun sometimes to banter with your partner but…it can’t really be easy for her. She doesn’t have many friends. And the one person who's supposed to like her being…rude can’t help either.” Hiromi adds. 

“Well, I just…tease her because that’s how I know to talk to her. That’s just how I am. And she has plenty of friends.” Satoru responds. 

“Not anymore. They’re all friends with Sukuna, who I’m positive she wants nothing to do with. It’s probably why she even tolerates you in the first place. Granted, I’m not trying to speak on your relationship but from what I’ve seen, it’s….you kind of have to make adjustments for her.” Hiromi states. 

“I don’t know if that will-” 

“Just be there with her. It’ll help her. I think deep down, she just wants someone to be there with her. At her side to support her.” 

Satoru gives Suguru a glare, before obliging and knocking on your door. He takes a deep breath as he walks in, finding you slumped on the floor next to your vinyl player. The gray vinyl is scratching on the table, soft guitar music emanating from it as you lay on your side. Satoru follows suit, lying flat on the ground next to you until the two of you are face to face. And in earnest, Satoru feels horrible. At your pink eyes, flushed cheeks, and puffy skin. Because for god knows whatever reason, what he had said was enough to make you cry. 

Satoru never understood it. Why people assign him so much importance when anything he’s ever had to say has been discarded all together. It’s why he’s unsure of what to say to you right now, when he’s never had to say anything at all. 

“Hi Y/N.” 

You stare back at him blankly, his blue eyes void of any of their usual excitement as he stares back at you. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

You divert your attention, the question so…agitating, that all you can do is watch your vinyl spin around on the table, at the little pin digging into the plate. 

“Is um….I don’t really know how to do this whole…comforting thing. It’s kind of awkward. Is this that band you like?”

You give him a meek nod, which he smiles at, before squinting at the small print on the vinyl. 

“Ah. I get it. You’re trying to be Cool About It. Whatever it is that’s bothering you.” 

“That was lame. Even for you, Satoru.” you respond, wiping the snot off of your nose. 

“Well, I personally think you’re hot. Being Cool About It was never going to be your thing either.” he responds. 

He’s not sure what it is about what he said, but suddenly your face is falling and you’re kind of…glaring at him. You pull your hood up and turn away from him, because the embarrassment of having Satoru Gojo in your room pitying you right now would be the actual nail in the coffin before you went full on off your rocker crazy. 

Satoru’s quick to move, now sitting crisscrossed near your head and looking down at you. 

“Are you playing hard to get so I’ll call you hot again?” 

“No. I’m trying to get you to stop pitying me.” you murmur back, pulling the hood over your face. 

“I don’t pity you.” 

You stand up, crossing your legs on the floor, as you turn to face him. And you know that Satoru in no way deserves any shape of the wrath that’s coming out of your mouth, but you can’t help it. 

“You don’t?” 

“Well, of course I-” 

“Yes, Satoru, you do. Because really, you’re only here because Suguru or Hiromi asked you to be. They asked you to put whatever the fuck it is that you have going on inside your head and think for one fucking second how it is that you make me feel. When you make fun of me constantly, do every last thing to agitate me, quite literally flirt with every living microorganism on this goddamn planet but me. I know that you really, truly do not care. You’re just here because they asked you to be but god, please spare me of whatever shitty response you’re trying to muster up to make me feel better because there’s no point. I just feel horrible when I’m around you.” you shout. 

You lean back against the back of your bed, your chest heaving, as you knot your fingers together and groan. Because if the day couldn’t get any worse, you just yelled at Satoru. 

For no reason. After he tried to comfort you, in his own weird way. 

He scoots up at your side, sliding his hand around your shoulder once again, and leaning your head against his shoulder. Your stupid tears are falling again as he rubs into your skin, the touch soft. 

“All that because you’re mad I won’t flirt with you?” he murmurs. 

“Of course that’s what you got out of it.” 

He laughs, the lack of anger in his tone at your words soothing down the bouts of guilt in your chest. 

“You’re not the type of girl I can flirt with.” 

“Jeez. Thanks Satoru. You really know how to make a girl feel special.” 

He reaches forward to pinch your nose, before continuing. 

“I mean, I’m obviously a guy who lacks self-awareness or tact, in quite literally any conversation.” 

“Naturally.” you respond. 

He gives you a pointed glare, before continuing. 

“But I have self awareness when it comes to these types of things. I know I shouldn’t flirt with you.” he responds. 

“And why’s that? I’m too ugly of a hag for you?” you spit. 

“No. You’re the type of girl who could take my heart and run off with it if I let you.” 

You shrug his hand off your shoulder, rolling your eyes. 

“You’re full of shit, Satoru Gojo. And corny as hell.” 

“You know you’re no good for me, right?” 

You look at him, at his deep, ocean blue eyes for the first time, filled with an emotion you can’t quite place. 

“You’d put me in my place too fast. Maybe too eager, too curious to figure out what it is I’ve got going on up and here. And I don’t know the answers to that either, but you’d want to make me figure it out. Whatever mess of things going on, I-I’d want to fix it for you. And as nice as that sounds, you’d probably break any semblance of structure I’d have left the second you go running. Which is something even I can’t handle.” he responds, lifting his hand to take yours in it. 

You cross link your fingers with his, linking your hands together. And try to place the emotion, that dragging sound in his voice. 

It’s desperation. 

“Why do you think I would leave?” you ask, looking down at your intertwined hands.

Satoru smiles in response, reaching forward to trace his fingers along the edge of your lips. 

“You’ve just proved my point.” 

And when he pads out of your room, you realize that once again, he’s left you with a hundred questions left to answer. But the one you’re sure of is this. 

That the emotion that was welling in his deep, crystal blue eyes was impassioned. That it was real. 

--

In the following weeks, things change between you and Satoru, but not too drastically. You’re not required to keep your show up for Hiromi too often, because she’s quite literally too enamored with Suguru to even think about the two of you, and Satoru Gojo stays the same way he is. 

He steals your lattes, pulls your hair, lovingly calls you an old hag, and stamps out any hopes you have for romantic endeavors. But somewhere around the grayness of November, he doesn’t stop by your apartment for three days. 

“Hey. Where’s Gojo?” 

Suguru looks up from his phone, giving you the most obscene look you’ve ever seen him muster. 

“Huh?” 

“Gojo? Satoru Gojo? That gangly idiot that’s always hanging around here?” 

“Yes. I’m well aware who he is, Y/N. Why are you asking?” 

“Dunno. He’s always around and now he’s not. Are you sure he’s not dead in a ditch somewhere?” you ask. 

“He might as well be. His dad is in town. Spending time with him.” he responds, turning back to his phone and looking away from you. 

You frown, leaning against the counter, as you reach for your phone. And you’re not sure why you do it but you slide into your chat with him and start typing. 

you: are you enjoying your father daughter time? 

satoru: are you missing me?

you: missing the free lattes that come from going to the coffee shop with you :/ 

you: come hit on the girl at the paper lantern. im craving a matcha latte. 

satoru: i would never waste a free drink on a matcha latte. 

satoru: and quit trying to whore me out for free drinks. 

you: then buy me one. 

satoru: well played. 

satoru: the ice skating rink, on sixteenth and rockfield. i’ll be there in an hour. 

You smile gleefully, wrapping your scarf carefully around you, as you head out into the cold to the ice skating rink Satoru had picked out. And you catch the back of his snow white hair, leaning against the railing as you eye the big, bright Christmas tree at the center. 

You walk up to his side, lacing your hand through his, as you turn and give him a smile. He returns the gesture, some part of his demeanor muted today, as he turns to you. 

“Hi Y/N.” 

“Satoru. Where’s my drink?” 

Satoru rolls his eyes, before reaching for the two cups on the ground and handing you one. 

“Your shitty matcha latte. As requested.” 

You smile, wrapping your arms around the drink, as he leads you to the stand to get your skates. His hand is soft on the small of your back as you walk up to the girl giving out the shoes. 

“Sizes?” she asks. 

“Eight.” you respond. 

“Eleven and a half.” Satoru provides, as the girl whisks off to grab your shoes. 

“Eleven and a half? What are you, Bigfoot?” you respond. 

“You know what they say. Big feet, big…” 

“Ego. But we knew that already.” you respond. 

The two of you take the skates and head over to the bench, Satoru too quick with his own skates that he’s suddenly tying yours and dragging you onto your feet. The two of you stand at the front of the tiny little opening, the sudden awkwardness of the situation dawning on you. 

That you don’t know how to ice skate. 

“What are we waiting for?” Satoru asks, hands on both of your shoulders as he stands behind you. He rests his chin on the top of your head, his breath tickling the hair on your scalp. 

“The rink to open up. There’s a bunch of people, I don’t want to crash into them the second we get on.” 

Satoru frowns, bringing his hands around your chin and lightly moving your face to his. 

“Are the people in the room with us? There’s like nine people here. And four of them are under the age of seven.” he deadpans. 

“I don’t want to knock over a kid.” you whine. 

“Yeah, that would be goblin on troll crime.” Satoru responds. 

“Am I the goblin or the troll?” you ask. 

“Troll. Obviously.” he responds, bringing his hands around your waist as he lifts you onto the ice with him. 

You’re suddenly wobbling too hard on your feet and holding onto his extended arms with a deathlike grip, the cold air biting your skin as your legs turn to noodles. 

“Okay, Raggedy Anne. Face me.” he states, voice soft as he turns you towards him. His hands are locked in with yours, the hold firm as he smiles. 

“Satoru.” you whine. 

“Just try to glide with me, okay? Our goal is to get to that side of the rink, by the end of our game.” 

“What’s our game?” you ask. 

“We’re going to play twenty questions.” Satoru states, mimicking the gliding motion as he instructs you.

You follow his suit, clutching hard on his arm every time you wobble, as Satoru starts to distract you with the stupid game he’s intent on playing. 

“Me first. Why did you text me?” Satoru asks. 

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead in a ditch somewhere. It was surprisingly peaceful for the past few days, so I knew you had to be in some type of mortal peril somewhere.” you respond. 

Gojo hums in response, as you try hard to pick the hundreds of questions you have to ask Gojo. 

“Where were you the past few days?” you ask. 

“Did you want me there?” Satoru asks, tone hopeful. 

“You’re supposed to answer before you ask again. And I’m not sure if want is the word. But…I don’t know. It’s weird not having you around. All quiet.” you respond. 

“My dad’s in town. Was kind of busy.” 

You hum in response, rolling over the words in your head. 

“I did want you around.” you add, earning a smile from him. 

The two of you skate in silence, the wobbling minimal now as you try to reach the railing at the end of the rink that Satoru had pointed out, right near the small, brightly decorated Christmas tree at the end of the rink. 

“It’s your turn, Y/N.” Satoru reminds. 

“Right. Do you like your dad?” 

“No. What happened with Sukuna?” 

You swallow hard, so caught off guard by the question that you fall straight into the ice. You must have been holding onto Satoru too hard because he goes tumbling down with you, lightly rubbing the spot on his head that made contact with the ice. You reach forward, cradling his head in your hands. 

“Fuck. Sorry, Gojo. That caught me off guard.” 

“That’s my bad, princess. It came out of nowhere.” he responds, standing up on his knees as he holds his hand out for you. He’s wiping the excess ice off the sides of your clothes and you mimic his motions. 

The two of you start silently skating towards the end of the rink again, hands linked together, as you figure out the right words to say. 

“I live with Suguru because of him. He wasn’t the best.” 

“I know that much, Y/N.” 

“He…kicked me out. Like, put all my things in a box, put them outside, and kept my key.” 

His hand tighets in yours as you swallow hard and continue. 

“Dunno. I guess he just kind of sucked. I was trying to convince myself I liked him, that we were in love for a really long time. I’d write him all these really long love letters, that he basically read days after the fact that I wrote them. He’d compliment me once in a while, but then I realized when it was only when he wanted something.” you respond, sighing. 

Satoru doesn’t respond, only squeezes your hand in response to the entire bout of word vomit you just gave him. 

“Why don’t you like your dad?” you ask. 

“He thinks I’m perfect.” Satoru responds, sighing. 

“Boo hoo.” you respond, joking. 

He smiles in response, his hand lightly loosening in yours. You tighten your grip against his again, giving him your best smile. 

“I’m joking, ‘Toru. What did you mean by that?” 

“I just mean. He expects so much from me, because I’m his only son. And when I was a kid, he was really hard on me for it. Made me attend all these shitty classes by myself, isolated me from other kids because I was meant to be something great. And I obviously pulled away from him because of it. But then, he kind of…shifted. He was vying so hard for my attention now, that suddenly I became free of all blame, all faults.” 

“Well, we both know that’s not true.” 

He snorts, dragging you to the end of the railing by the Christmas tree, as you both lean against the little glass panes. 

“I just wanted him to be real with me. Tell me when I was good, tell me when I was bad. Not where he was criticizing every move I made but not when he was praising all of them either.” 

You nod, turning to your side to hold both of his hands in yours. 

“Well, you’re shitty when you’re mean to me. But you’re nice when you’re like this.” you state. 

He smiles, that stupid lopsided grin, as he brings his hands around your neck and pulls you in against him. His lips are soft and warm, though you’re not sure how, against your almost frostbitten, cold blue ones. But the warmth that’s blooming in your chest, under your skin, from his hands, from his lips on yours is enough to bring you down. 

He pulls back, resting his forehead against yours as he places a light kiss to the tip of your pink nose. 

“What was that for?” you ask, breathless. 

“Mistletoe.” Satoru responds, pushing off the little railing and slowly skating away, waiting for him to join you. 

You look up, fighting the urge to smile at the small little bundle of leaves and berries above you, as you skate out and join his hand to go around the rink. 

--

There’s an incessant pounding on your door that wakes you up, as you pull on the closest jacket and your glasses as you pad to the door. You open up to find him there, half bored on his phone, as he looks up at you. 

“Oh. Hey. Was the spare not under-” 

He all but lurches forward, wrapping his hands around your neck as he presses his lips to yours. He’s all too eager, because he’s walking into you so fast that he’s all but pushed you up against the wall behind you, his lips hanging off yours as he smiles into your mouth. 

“Y/N.” he hums, smiling into your face. 

“Good morning to you too.” 

He smiles, wrapping his hands around your wrist, as he leads you back to your bed, quickly peeling your hoodie off your frame as he tucks you into the bed with him. And instead of doing what you thought he was going to do, he’s tucking you tight against his frame, your face tucked into his clavicle, as he brings his arms around yours and holds you tight. 

“Did you come all this way to cuddle?” 

“I came all this way to kiss you. This is just a bonus.” 

You burrow yourself into his skin, leaning your head against his, as your thousand questions swim around in your mind. On what you’re doing, on why he’s here, on if you can even ask. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” 

“You have a weird, pinched up look on your pretty face. What is it?” he asks. 

“Oh. I was just thinking.” you respond. 

“About?” 

“Um, what we’re doing.” 

“We’re cuddling, silly.” Satoru responds, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your forehead. 

“I know. But what does that mean?” 

Satoru brings his hands up around your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands as he smiles. 

“It means that I just had a really annoying fight with my dad. And I just want to hold you and not think about it.” he responds. 

“Oh. Okay, yeah.” 

You burrow yourself back into his arms, the two of you a mess of tangled limbs as you hold onto each other. And you’re not sure why you start talking, but you’re filling the silent space with your voice. 

“I saw Sukuna the other day.” you murmur. 

Satoru brings his hands down, rubbing into the side of your arm as he hums in response. 

“Was it okay?” 

“Kind of stupid.” you murmur. 

“Why?” he asks. 

“He came up to me to ask if I was going to go to the end of year banquet that they hold for the seniors going into the masters program.” 

“And?” 

“I mean, I was planning on it. And then he just felt the need to warn me that he’s bringing his new girlfriend and it was really awkward. He asked me if I was bringing anyone and I said no, just for him to smile in response and then walk away.” 

“You should have said you were bringing me.” 

“I wasn’t aware that I was bringing you.” 

“Well, now you are. Plus, my dad…he always gets on my back to go to shit like that since he’s one of the donors. At least now I’ll have something to do there.” 

“And what’s that?” 

“Annoy you!” he responds. 

You reach forward to flick the side of his cheek, before reaching forward to push the hair off of his forehead. The touch must be somewhat soothing to him, because it coaxes him to talk, in the slightest. 

“When I was a kid, my dad forced me to go to events like that. All the time. And when I was there…he’d always yell at me for all these different things. My hair was too messy, I wasn’t standing right, I was too loud.” 

You brush your thumb on the skin of his cheek, before reaching forward to press a kiss to his skin. 

“And after I kind of figured it all out, I was so…irritated that I ever listened. And I’ve tried to stamp it out, that voice telling me to be quiet all the time. But sometimes when I see him…I don’t know. It just comes flooding back.” 

You prop your hands up against his chest, resting your head on top of your hands as you look down at him. His eyes are shut as he faces your ceiling, a hand resting behind his head while the other one is secured, firmly around you. In the ray of sunlight peering out of your window, you notice that Satoru has the smallest patch of freckles around his nose. 

“I always wondered why you were like that. But somehow, this makes it better.” 

“Huh?” 

“You were always so…you that sometimes it made me jealous. That you had this unstoppable, vibrant spirit, that you probably had life so easy that no one had stamped it out of you.” 

You reach forward, tracing the skin on his cheek, as you continue to talk. 

“But this is better. Someone tried to do that to you and you didn’t let them. You’re not weak or timid like me, you don’t let people like that shut you up like I do.” 

“You’re not weak or timid.” he responds, cupping the side of your face. 

“Satoru.” 

“You’ve always stood your ground. Especially when it comes to me.” 

“Well, you’re you. Sukuna is…” 

“Nothing. You can handle an idiot like Sukuna. And I’ll be there, if he tries to say anything to you and you need me.” 

You halfheartedly nod. 

“And I’ll be there. If you want to annoy me instead of talking to your dad.” 

“I’ll take you up on that offer. Always.” 

--

Satoru presses a kiss to your cheek before running out the door, late for his class. And when you turn on your heel, you find Suguru giving you a wide smile, with an almost teasing look on his face. You glare in response, moving past him to do the dishes. 

“Do you need something, Suguru?” 

“Are you guys dating?” he asks, resting his chin in his hands as he gives you a jeering smile. 

“What’s it to you?” you ask. 

“My best friend…my roommate…seems like a very big deal to me.” 

“Well, we’re just talking. I don’t know if it’s official, but I think it’s exclusive.” you respond. 

“It’s definitely exclusive. He’s liked you for a while.” 

You snort, as he comes up at your side and starts drying the dishes. 

“No, I’m serious! I promise, he’s not coming around this much just to see me. And I’m sure you’ll make him very happy. Keep him in his place.” 

“That’s what he said.” you murmur, smiling. 

“Just, don’t get too heated if you guys get into an argument. You’re both the most stubborn people I know, but don’t let that get in the way of anything.” 

“Okay, I’ll definitely take relationship advice from someone who pathologically lies to his girlfriend everyday.” 

Suguru yanks on the edge of ear and you splash a good amount of dishwater at him in response as you both laugh. 

“I’ll have you know, that I told her almost like two days afterwards because I couldn’t stomach it.” 

“Huh? Why didn’t you tell us?” 

“It was just funny watching you guys try to be nice to each other. And then Hiromi was dead set on matchmaking the second she figured out Gojo was all but in love with you.” 

You roll your eyes at him in response, as you turn out to walk to the coffee shop before your next class. And as you march to the coffee shop, music blaring in your headphones, you feel a tugging on your elbow as you almost walk in. 

You turn around to find an older man, with blue eyes and light hair, smiling at you. And as you tug your headphones off and hear him talk, you know without a doubt that this has to be Satoru’s father. 

“Are you Y/N L/N?” he asks, his hands folded perfectly against the crisp pressing off his suit. 

“Sure. Who are you?” you ask, yanking your headphones off so they're resting around your ears. 

“I’m Satoru’s father.” 

“Oh, okay. Can I help you?” you asked, running through your thoughts as you think of what Satoru would want you to do most. 

Walk away? Be polite? Insult him? 

Insulting him is surely what you want to do. But knowing him, he wouldn’t even want you to talk to him for a second, so you should try your best to abort the conversation in its tracks. 

“I’d like to talk to you about your intentions. With my son.” he responds. 

“I'd love to do that. But I have to run to class, so I’ll have to go now.” 

“Class? What’s your major?” 

“Education.” 

That must not be the answer he wanted, because he stiffens his jaw before talking again, which just builds onto another reason that this man irritates you. 

“Right, well. I’ll be off then.” you respond, trying to move past him. 

“Are you dating my son?” 

“Not yet. But I think it’s headed that way.” you respond. 

“Well, if you’re so intent on attending your class, here’s my phone number. I’d like for you to call me the second you’re out of your class so we can discuss more.” he states, handing you a shiny piece of cardstock. 

You begrudgingly take it, shaking his hand as you all but sprint off to your class. But unbeknownst to you, Satoru was watching the entire thing play out from the window, with an ice matcha latte in hand just for you. 

He trashes the cup as he walks out. He’s always thought matcha was disgusting anyways. 

And three days later, you find Satoru in the library. In what might possibly, the most compromising of situations. 

You’re a few weeks out from finals, the banquet at the end of the week, and buried with term papers that you need to write. Hence the need to procure your matcha latte, lock yourself in the library for the rest of the week, until you can go to the event with Satoru and let loose before you go home for break. 

Except when you’re trekking through the library looking for a place to study, you find that a really large group is populating your usual prime spot near the window, with the big white board that you like to use. 

But even more jarring than the stupid white board and spot you’re comfortable in, it’s who is taking up the spot. Because Sukuna and his friends are taking up the entire face and there’s a certain white haired idiot sitting all the way at the end, headphones over his ears as he types away on his laptop. 

And you can hear your blood rushing in your ears as you walk up to him, all but yanking the headphones off your ears. 

“Hi Satoru.” 

“Hi Y/N.” he seethes back, matching the anger in your voice. 

“I got you a drink, asshole.” 

He looks down at your matcha latte, before looking back up at you and rolling his eyes. 

“Always intent on not listening to me, aren’t you?” 

“I learned from the best, asswipe.” you respond, marching off to the apartment and fighting down the angry tears that are falling out of your eyes. 

--

With the load of finals behind you and the quietness that populates your apartment, you find yourself begrudgingly dragging yourself to the banquet. And curse yourself for letting Satoru convince you, for already putting in an RSVP so early that now you can’t take it away. 

The room’s uncomfortably warm, the masses of people moving around each other, cheeks blushed pink from the drinks and flutes in all of their hands. You swipe one off of the tray as someone walks past, intent on filling that cold, awkward feeling in your chest with whatever warmth it can give you. 

You take a spot near the corner of the room, a nice vantage point from where you can spot, eye who you can talk to first. Your partner from your English class is stuck talking to your professor, which is frankly a bleak option. 

There’s the group of girls from your cohort, but they’re all talking to Sukuna and his girlfriend, which is a big no for you. And you’d love to talk to your advisor, but you’re positive occupying the solo spot on the wall is better than talking to the one professor that everyone hates. 

And you spot Satoru, his white hair stark against the crowd, as he talks to Hiromi and Suguru. He’s all dressed up, his tie loose around his neck and the top buttons are undone. You suppose that’s as well as Satoru can present for an event like this anyways, and your heart stings at the premise.

Because there's nothing you want to do more than point it out. That everyone’s dressed up, but he can’t even be bothered to put himself together for this. And you want him to argue back, to sport that stupid shit eating grin he always uses when he argues with you. 

It’s irritating. How much it’s killing you to not be with him. 

You pull down the edges of your dress, trying to soothe through the creases that are lining on your green dress, as you try your best to stop that tense, uncomfortable feeling from settling in your skin. 

On the most annoying cue ever, Sukuna walks up to stand by your side, two drinks in his hand. He gestures for you to take one, which you oblige, as you swallow the irritation on your tongue as he starts talking. 

“Y/N.” 

“Sukuna.” 

“Did you poison my drink? Or are you morally above attempted murder?” 

“I believe I am.” 

“Shocking, given your track record.” 

“Are you here alone?” he asks. 

“What’s it to you?” 

“It’s just that you RSVP'd for two people. Yet you’re the only one standing here.” 

“Are you stalking me now?" you ask, eyeing him.

“Maybe a little bit. I was just curious to see who it was you were seeing now.” 

“What’s it to you?” 

“Just have to make sure that they take care of you. That’s all.” he states, shrugging

You roll your eyes, putting a sizable amount of distance between you two. 

“That’s rich coming from you. Leaving me without a place to live is a real gesture of compassion, Sukuna.” 

“Well, I think that-” 

A girl, with short brown hair cuts the two of you off, as she excitedly points to the wallpaper above you. 

“You’re both standing under the mistletoe!” 

You look up, to find a small lock of the plant above the two of you, as you fight the urge to internally groan. 

“Right, well. That’s my cue to leave.” you respond, setting the glass down on the table. 

Sukuna wraps his fingers around your wrist, pulling you into him as you stumble on the edge of your heels. 

“It’s just mistletoe. You have to honor it or that’s like…really shitty luck.” he states, giving you a smile.

“I’ll take my chances. It couldn't possibly be worse than this.” 

“Look. I really hate being on bad terms. You were really important to me and I hate to think that you’re out there being mad at me.” 

“Right, well. Get used to being disappointed then because I’m clear on where I stand.” you respond. 

You make the motions to move again, as Sukuna yanks you back again. Except this time, Satoru’s at your side, nearly shoving him into the wall. He gives you a look, devoid of any emotion, as he adjusts his tie around his neck. 

“You’re not going to kiss her.” he states, teetering on the edges of his heels. Like he’s almost bored, so disinterested in the conversation that he’s having with Sukuna right now. 

“I was just joking. It wasn’t that serious, I wouldn’t even consider it honestly.” he states, as the words sting your ears. You don’t know whether to be relieved, offended, or extremely agitated by the premise of his comment. 

“You’d be so lucky.” he snorts, as you swallow hard. 

“Right. We are talking about the same girl, right?” he sneers. 

Satoru groans, looking up to the sky, before taking his jacket off and handing it to you. You give him a confused look, to which he smiles, before turning back to Sukuna. 

“Rather unfortunate that you chose to mess with the wrong girl. That and the fact that I have no semblance of manners when it comes to these types of things.” 

And then Satoru swings straight for his nose, wincing and shaking his knuckles in the air as Sukuna slams into the wall behind him. There’s a loud gasp, head turning to look at the three of you as you swallow hard. There’s a small amount of bright, red blood falling out of his nose as Satoru gives him a shit eating grin. 

“Thanks for holding it.” Satoru states, taking the jacket from your hands as the two of you watch Sukuna walk off into the side. 

“Right, well-” 

“Satoru.” 

The two of you turn around to find his father, nose flaring and undoubtedly mad, as he appears at your side. Satoru storms out of the room, agitated, as you follow and run behind him. The air outside is significantly colder, snow sticking to the concrete. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, the air so cold that you can see your breath in the air. 

“Yes. Are you?” he asks back, turning around to look at you. He’s kicking the tiny flakes of snow in the ground, averting eye contact with you as he talks. 

“Yeah. Now, I can yell at you.” you respond, shoving him. 

“What’s your problem?” 

“What’s yours?” he asks back, seething. 

“You. You ignored me for like two days and then I found you in the library being all buddy buddy with Sukuna. And then you punch him in the face for no reason?”

“It wasn’t for no reason.” 

“Right. Your hand just jerked through the air and just happened to hit his face.” 

“What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry?” 

You groan, bringing your hands up through your temples, as your frustration comes to a head. 

“Why are you pretending this is nothing? Like we're nothing?” you scream, tears burning your eyes at you look at him. 

“When did I say this was nothing?” 

“’m fucking dying over here to be the person standing next to you, because there’s nowhere else I want to be, and instead I’m standing in the corner trying to avoid you like the plague.” 

His eyes twitch, his hands almost fidgeting at your sides as you angrily wipe your tears off your cheeks and smudge the makeup pressed to your face. 

“You…you’re so fucking aggravating. You’re mean to me, then you’re nice. You act like you love me, but then you don’t. Your best friend tells me that I basically mean the world to you and then your stupid dad ambushes me outside a coffee shop and basically insults me but-” 

“What?” he states. 

“What? I just like…don’t know what page you’re on. You make no fucking sense, you’re so..so hot and cold with me instead of just telling me what’s going on. If you didn’t like me anymore, you should have just said that instead of hurting my feelings.” you state, crossing your arms as you turn back from him. 

He comes up at your side, eyes wide as he looks down at you. He quickly takes his jacket off, wrapping it around your shoulders as the tears stream down your eyes. 

“What did my dad say to you? Was it at the coffee shop?” he whispers, hands braced on your shoulders. 

“Huh? How’d you know that?” 

“Just, tell me.”

“Well, I was going to get my latte. He kind of pulled me aside. Asked me what my intentions were with you. Made some weird backhanded comment about me being an education major and-” 

“And?”

“Gave me his business card. Told me to call him because I kept trying to leave. I think I threw it in a trash can or something.” 

Satoru groans, leaning his forehead against your shoulder, as he curses. 

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.” he murmurs, eyes pinched in regret as he lifts his head back up. 

“What?” 

“Shit. I-I got mad at you. For talking to my dad, behind my back and not telling me. I thought…he was asking you for information about me and you were obliging. That you took his card so you could call him.” 

“You watched that entire thing?” 

“Yeah. And I saw you shove the card into your pocket as you walked away and I just got so angry that I-” 

“That you what?” 

“Hung out with Sukuna. To make you mad.” 

You glare at him, shoving him again for good measure. 

“You did what?” 

“I was upset! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to it was just that-” 

“You didn’t even think to ask me? You just had to be petty?” you scream, your frustration building. 

His eyes go wide, as he swallows hard. He burrows his hands into his pockets, lifting them from your shoulders as he casts his head down. You can tell that his skin is burning, it’s turning slightly pink, as you realize that the reason the two of you weren’t here together, stupidly laughing at everyone, was because of a simple miscommunication. 

“Satoru.” you groan, lifting your hand to your forehead. 

“Y/N. I’m so sorry.” 

“In what world was that fair to me? You didn’t even think to ask?” 

Satoru takes both of your hands in his, lifting them up to cover his eyes with. Your knuckles are flat against his forehead, the ends of his hair tickling your skin. 

“Y/N. I’m so shit at this type of stuff. You’re far too put together for me.” 

“I’m not expecting you to be put together. Just to kind of…work with me here.” you murmur, as he rests his head against your frame again. You’re wrapping your arms around his torso, deflating into his touch. 

“Yeah, well. All I know how to do is fight and-” 

“If you say you’ll love me rather than fight with me, I’ll forgive you.” 

“Huh?” 

“Just promise. That you’ll try to love me. And forgive me before you turn to fighting.” you murmur, cupping his face in your hands. 

“Y/N. I-” 

“You have so many walls that I’m trying to break through. Just try to work with me here when I’m trying to do it.” you whisper. 

“There you go. Doing that thing again.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Seeing the best in me. Making me want to be better.” 

You smile, leaning your head to the side. 

“Is that so bad?” 

“No. No, just. Try to be patient with me? I know I’m really shitty at this type of thing but-” 

“As long as you stick around. And don’t ignore me for five days like a fucking asshole, I promise I will.” 

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to the palms of your hands still secured around his face, as he leans his own forehead against yours. 

“Okay. Just, give it to me straight when…when I do stuff like this.” 

“Okay. I hate it when you’re stupid as fuck and jump to conclusions. Like genuinely, it’s really irritating that I spent all of finals week sleeping in my bed alone when it was obscenely cold and you weren’t there. And you just had to assume shit when you didn’t-” 

“Okay, I get it. Get to the good parts now.” 

“Ego-maniac.” 

“Cmon. I’m wounded here.” he states, holding his bruised hand up to you. You take it in yours, pressing a kiss to the red skin before continuing. 

“I like when you talk to me. And when we get to keep moving forward, past this type of stuff. It’s like…the best part of a story. You get to see the conflict be resolved and then keep going.” 

He smiles hard, nodding at your words. 

“You have to kiss me.” he states. 

“Why?” 

“I’m going to pretend I’m not offended by that heinous look on your face at the thought of kissing me. But, mistletoe.” 

You look up, to find a set of tiny Christmas lights with little embellishments in them, one of which is mistletoe. 

“That doesn’t count.” 

“Yes, it does.” 

“That’s not real mistletoe.” 

He pouts, rolling his eyes at you. 

“Fine. Don’t kiss me then.” 

You wrap your hand around his wrist, yanking him down by the tie to press a kiss to his soft, warm lips. They’re enough to warm up your frozen, nearly frostbitten blue ones, as he shakes his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and smiling into the kiss. 

And you take solace in the fact that at least for that night, the conflict is over. And the story continues.

--

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist:

@porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg

lmk if you would like to be added to the taylor as gojo taglist or my general taglist <3

[love-me-satoru]

Triple Thread

satosugu x reader 🫶

warnings-sugu being mean,office sex,pussy eating, teasing the good stuffs

a/n: ooooop! i love this one mostly because i love satoru and suguru

smuuut under the cut 🫶

You’ve been secretly dating Gojo and Geto for a few months now. You’re all teachers at Jujustu Tech. The only other person who knows about your relationship is your best friend Shoko.

But every time two of you got some free time you always end up in each others offices. either it be a quickly or a make out session.

This time suguru was the one who trapped you. Pulling you into his office he nearly slams you against the door hands roaming your body to your waist.

“God i missed you”

“You same this morning sugu..”

“And? I still missed you”

He’s slowly kissing behind your ear down to your neck you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You wrap your fingers in his hair.

“Please fuck me sugu..”

He picks you up taking you to his desk. He’s missing you hard pulling you to him.

“I wanna taste you baby”

“Hurry please..”

He drops to his knees and pulls off your panties licking a long stripe from your hold to your clit. grabbing your clit with his teeth. sucking hard

“Oh my god sugu!”

“Shush baby. You don’t want to get caught right?”

He goes back to sucking your clit and slowly eases one finger inside you. You cover your own mouth knowing you’ll only get louder. you start squirming trying to close your legs around his head.

“Gunna cum sugu!”

“Cum for me baby”

You’re pulling his messy bun to pull him closer to your cunt he’s just lapping all of your juices softly moaning his name. You tug his hair to get him to come back to you. You pull him into a hot kiss savoring your juices on his tongue.

“Please sugu.. i can’t wait anymore” you said whining

“I got you princess”

He pulls out his hard cock already leaking precum he softly taps your clit with his tip and slowly runs it through your pink folds

“Stop teasing me sugu”

He slowly eases himself inside of you forcing out such pretty sounds from the both of you. Suguru starts slowly pumping his cock inside of you and lazily starts running your clit. when he starts to pick up the pace your phone starts ringing. Knowing exactly who it was from the special ringtone you wanted to ignore it but Suguru had other plans. He starts going faster.

“Answer it.”

“He can wait sugu.. Please.”

His hips still slowly starting to pull out.

“You answer it now or I stop completely”

You’re whining and picked up your phone answering it you hear his voice.

“Hey baby! what took you so long to answer?”

“Hi toru.. i just wasn’t by my phone..”

Suguru just starts slamming into you fully filling you up which causes you to yelp.

“Are you okay baby.?”

“I’m fine toru..” Trying to hold back your moans.

As Satoru starts talking about random things Suguru whispers in your ear

“Let’s see how long you can last princess” he lets out a soft laugh.

You’re literally losing your mind. You’re not paying attention to anything Satoru is saying to focused on Suguru’s abuse on your cunt. He’s getting rougher and tugging in your clit. you pulled the phone away from your face to let out a soft moan.

Suguru mouths “No cheating”

You pull the phone back to your face when Suguru smirked at you and grabbed your hard nipple through your shirt which made you break.

You let out a broken moan. “Suguru!”

Satoru mumbles through the phone “Suguru?”

You’re already caught you just let out more moans. He’s still snapping his hips into yours letting out scattered laughs.

“Y’all are having fun without me?” Satoru acting shocked.

“Sorry.. Toru-“

You said moaning out the call ends abruptly. You dropped the phone when Suguru pulls you into another kiss. Next thing you know you hear the door open and there stands Satoru.

“You really need to lock the door Sugu.”

“Shut up Satoru and get over here.”

He shuts the door and locks it before making his way to Suguru. Suguru pulls Satoru into a heated kiss. you’re staring in awe whining feeling a little left out. Satoru sits next to you pulling you into a make out session.

“She’s so pretty like this huh Satoru?”

“Of course.”

He’s smirking and runs his hand down to your clit it’s starting to become too much

“Wanna cum please.. Sugu.. Please. Toru.. Please..”

“Oooh should we let her cum Suguru?”

“Hm.. I don’t know Satoru.”

You’re nodding your head up and down.

“Should we let you cum baby?”

“Yes!Yes!Yes! Please. please! Let me cum!”

“Go ahead baby cum for us.”

Satoru is rubbing your clit viciously as Suguru’s thrusts are getting sloppy

“Oh my god! i’m cumming!”

Satoru pulls you into another kiss to muffle your moans while your clench around Suguru and squirt all over him while he fills your womb with his see.

“Holy shit baby..” They same simultaneously.

“That was new..” You fully lay on Suguru’s desk blissed out of your mind literally about to pass out when you got a text from Shoko.

- “Y’all are nasty.”-

You laugh and show your boys which pulled a little giggle out of both of them when Satoru piped up.

“Princess you better not be too tired. You’re gonna do that again when we get home” Suguru laughs.

All three of you canceled the rest of your classes for the day and went headed home to continue what you started. After that busy day you had a hard time walking.

[gottagetback2u]

✰ stray kids as uni bfs!

warnings: mentions of food, too much boyfriend material, cause of death: uni!seungmin, inconsistent use of correct spelling

welcome to my first post! <3

-✰bang chan

uni!bangchan definitely… struggles :’) he stays awake till 2-3am every night, either doing homework or procrastinating and making music. thank god his roommate basically lives with their partner, because u get to stay in his dorm with him during these early mornings, urging him to stay on task so he can sleep.

u guys met at the gym!!! u were trying to get back into exercising after the spring break and he saw u on the treadmill. literally hearts in his eyes. like the shy guy he is, he waited until u were almost out of the door before asking “do u go to the uni around here?”

let’s just say he was giggling and kicking his feet when u offered ur number to him <3

bang chan credits u for every completed assignment! he loves that u are so willing to help him, even if he is embarrassed to ask sometimes. (it goes like, “babe.. ugh i’m so sorry but what the fuck does he mean by this?”)

he will get u breakfast from the campus cafe before all of ur morning classes. he says it’s his job as a boyfriend, even if he only got four hours of sleep! (one time he slept in and got u lunch AND dinner to make up for it)

-✰lee know

lee know is an interesting student to say the least. his electives are all “art 101” and “basket weaving” because those are the ‘easy’ classes (sadly, no college class is easy) though, surprisingly, he is very interested in his major classes! studious student.

his go-to look is glasses with a comfy hoodie and sweatpants. when u see him on campus u can’t help but stare. comfy bf material.

u guys always seemed to cross paths at the off campus grocery store! u happen to be picking up comfort snacks after crying ur eyes out due to stress :( he strolled down the same aisle as u, quickly recognizing the university hoodie u had on, staring longingly at what oreo flavor to choose with fresh tears in ur eyes.

“i like the java chip ones :)” after he saw ur tears, he bought them for u.

ur dates consist of: trudging along campus to classes together, movie nights with snacks in the oh so comfy twin sized dorm bed, and grocery store runs! he also loves to do sheet masks together! (just don’t tell anyone how soft he is for u)

studies come second to him. u come first <3

-✰changbin

a jock but not in the aggressive type way. he just wants to lift and pass his classes. (which he always does! nothing below a B- for binnie)

he is good with in-class work! whipping out assignments while the teacher is talking about the subject is light work for him. but homework… alone in his dorm…. his kryptonite. for some reason focusing is so hard in that situation!

when u first heard him speak in economics class, u didn’t expect him to be so sweet?? u sat a couple rows back, so good thing he couldn’t see ur constant staring. his smile, his biceps, his too-tight shirts, his everything.

group projects are ur guys’ weakness because you somehow always get put together. (not that u mind!) in ur third group project this semester, he bit the bullet and asked u out! he was so nervous that he made a whole google slide saying “will u go out with me?” he asked han to decorate it lol.

studying together is no easy task. ur talking about currency then suddenly in a sweet make out sesh! he said he couldn’t handle the “sweet” looks u were giving him.

really soft boyfie !

-✰hyunjin

my art student. what else would he major in?

you guys actually met in starbucks on campus! hyunjin tries to do essays in a cafe setting to “stay focused” (he really just wants to be aesthetic).

you work as a barista, and after taking his order, he couldn’t take his eyes off of u for the 2 hours he was there. he ended up sketching u instead of write his essay! shockingly, he was able to muster up the courage to at least ask ur major before he left (aka, rushed out and ran into the door).

you guys are the sickly sweet couple everyone sees on campus. u are always together!!! hyunjin wants nothing to separate ur hand from his >:(

of course, when he has freedom to choose for his big projects in his art classes, he always chooses something that reminds him of you. he doesn’t like painting portraits that much, so he will choose to paint ur favorite flowers, your first date scene, your hand holding his… yeah, he’s that type of boyfriend :’)

he despises his required classes, like english and math. he doesn’t understand it like he understands art, so he needs ur support!! please run ur fingers thru his hair when he’s whining about his weekly reading!

he loves ur relationship more than anything <3 he’s so happy he can spend his college years with u

-✰han

oh boy. how do we even start this.

i think he tries his best. he really does! he doesn’t want to be one of the few in his class failing, but he just doesn’t really grip onto learning the required subjects like english.

this is how u two met! u work for the university as a tutor, and han was required tutoring for english or else he would get dropped from the class :( he showed up to the tutoring session in an empty lobby in the main campus building, and as soon as he laid eyes on u, he cursed himself. he was supposed to be learning, how can he do that when he has the prettiest person in front of him!! :’(

even outside of ur sessions u help him all the time! he appreciates ur help so much, and of course he doesn’t want his partner to have to help him with his work 24/7, but u don’t mind at all.

his schedule is chaotic. wake up, go to class, go by the convenience store to get both of u snacks, come back to UR dorm, nap in UR bed, wake up when u get back from classes, walk around campus together, get dinner in the dining hall, then fall asleep at HIS dorm.

he always praises himself for choosing to live in a quad with his own room and praises u for working for the university so u get ur own dorm. “it’s like we knew we were going to date!”

he always shows his love and appreciation. power college couple <3

-✰felix

felix has the time of his life in college. he loves being independent, doing something new, and just taking it all in.

that’s why he decided to be ambitious his freshman year; getting a job right away at the campus cafe, and also continuing his hobby of dance by taking a freestyle dance elective!

u were also taking the elective class to try and get more in to ur passion for dance. u never felt too confident in ur skills, so what better way to improve than in a class with others that were learning too!

when felix walked in the room the first day of class, looking all professional in his beanie, oversized sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, u were immediately attracted… but also intimidated!! he must be so good (>:d) u guys actually got put as partners for ice breakers, then a partner project, then a mid-term project, realizing how genuine and sweet he is!!

let’s just say,, things got a lil close for ur projects. flirting was a given around him and kissing, definitely happened.

and even though his excitement for college was a 100! his grades… struggled to reflect that :( like others, college is hard to grasp sometimes!! u continued to help him and remind him that everyone is having a hard time too <3

another sickly sweet couple. he just can’t pry himself away from u!

-✰seungmin

i kinda feel like seungmin is like,, the perfect fit for uni boyfriend? he just gives off those vibes to me so much. (yes i am seungmin biased haha)

does he have all 100% in his classes? yes! does he procrastinate? hell yes…..that’s all he does. to try and help his problem, he wants to study with u! he thinks that this will help him focus more bc silence is always comfortable between u two. but it just ends up him playing some game and u watching, messing him up every time he’s close to passing the level.

if you guys have an in-person class together, he wants needs to sit by u. he doesn’t find it right that u don’t want to sit next to ur own boyfriend. how dare u actually want to listen to ur professor instead of engage in snarky side conversation the whole time >:(

he loves walking around campus late at night. not like, 2am but more like 10pm lol (cuz besides staying up for hw, i feel seungmin is an avid sleeper). after ur night class, he will meet u by ur dorm building and walk around, hands linked the whole time. this is the time where he’s affectionate and loves to talk about ur relationship aww!! it’s conversation like “i remember the first time i held ur hand”, and “we should have another takeout homework date in the library soon”.

i could literally go on and on about uni!seungmin bc it’s a perfect match ahh.

-✰i.n

high school classmates to college classmates! it might have been handy to know someone going into college…. if u and jeongin even knew who each other were.

“yang jeongin? he was in my homeroom? uhh-“

i.n thought that he didn’t need help going thru his first year. he wanted to be independent and make friends on his own >:( butttt with each passing day, adjusting to new classes and even his roommate moving out, he couldn’t even manage to talk to someone new for more than a minute.

u finally recognized him when u saw his academy hoodie he was wearing one day! u rushed to reach him before he entered the classroom, and when u two made eye contact… god jeongin thought the world stopped.

from then, u guys slowly started seeing each other more, than exchanging numbers, then hanging out! ur hangouts usually consisted of studying, but it always ended up in doing to the dining hall and eating together, staying in their right until it closed.

let’s just say, u both struggled in the homework department. but quizzes?? yang jeongin is, surprisingly, an academic weapon.

he loves quality time with u. staying up late, just being in each other arms and talking about nothing.

he will also most definitely require u to watch old minecraft videos with him. quality time right! :)

masterlist!

[smutbutoutofnowhere]

WILLIAM BIRKIN HEADCANONS

NSFW

he’s very intimate with you while sex he loves you so much like every single thing about you turns him on

he looks very soft but he’s actually very kinky inside and will show this side the more comfortable he feels around you

i feel like he enjoys sex a lot A LOT like it becomes very often

like i said in the beginning everything about you is a turn on to him like how you look when you wake up in the morning with your tank top and underwear or wearing an apron with your hair tied up showing your beautiful neck while cooking for him even when you’re wearing your glasses while you work tugging your hair behind your ear

he enjoys fucking you anywhere in the house in the kitchen on the counter or table, in the bathroom in front of the mirror, in the living room while you’re trying to watch tv etc

my man gets horny easily basically

gets you lingerie every time he goes out like while passing by the store seeing something and imagining you in it and literally drooling about the idea ending up getting too many stuff because he wants to see how you would look on each one before ripping them off you

a very big panty thief

if you’re away to visit your family or for work he would use your underwear to masturbate and gets them dirty with cum so when you come back you might face the issue of having less clean panties and wash a bunch because he sometimes forgets to clean them afterwards

expect to get your ass squeezed a lot like you guys are out on a walk with some tight shorts or while you’re making breakfast or dessert also hugs from behind is often too but doesn’t stay long before he gets hard and humps you

also he watches porn when you’re not around like again away for something like imagining blindfolding you and using toys on you while your hands are tied up or maybe spanking you until your ass is all red or dressing you up in kinky costumes such as nurse gets very into the role lmfao

has breeding kink and the idea of you carrying his child with your round belly and swollen breasts is sending him to the clouds if you do get pregnant get ready for some overstimulation (eating you out especially) and if you do start lactating he’s gonna suck them tiddies and squeeze them

on holidays get ready for sex like maybe two times a day around the house fully naked or if in a hotel maybe in the spa (if you guys are alone) he also likes risky sex probably because his dick wont stay still or at the beach in the sea making out away from people

also dont worry about any scars or etc on your body like i said before he worships your body as if you’re a god/goddess literally everything about you from head to toes is beautiful to him

if you’re younger than him he likes the college student teacher kinda shit or like your inexperience turns him on

he is insecure about himself actually because if you’re young there are many attractive people with better looking bodies but as soon as you reassure him that you love him as much as he does and giving kisses from his little belly to his happy trail to his aching dick (giving him a few kisses on there too especially on his pre leaking tip) he’s in heaven

that reminds me that he LOVES blowjobs like giving him head while he’s doing something on the computer or checking documents sucking his length and balls he swears he can see the stars he looks down with a sweaty face and pulls his shirt up to get a better view he smiles uncontrollably and holds your cheek then slowly tugs your hair and moves your head the way he desires and bucks his hips deeper into your throat while he shakes with his orgasm and seeing you swallow and swipe that one drop drooling from corner of your mouth with your finger and sucking it in is just incredible

lastly lazy morning sex is his thing before work he wakes up horny and then rubs himself to your back and wakes you up eventually before fucking you sleepy and hitting that one gold spot in you to give you amazing orgasm

also his dick is like average (don’t be fooled he can use it very good and fuck you dumb) and have blonde pubes shaves them but eventually forgets sometimes because of his work

i wrote this like it was my duty lmfao anyways thats all folks

[chrisbitchtree]

A Little Less Conversation

My fic for day two of @harringrovelovefest!

Prompt: Conversation Hearts

T - 1.4k

***

When Billy finds the first one in his locker, he figures it has to be a joke. He squints to read the tiny writing on the little candy heart, ignoring the sure sign that he should really see an optometrist. “Be my sugar daddy” he mumbles under his breath, smirking as he looks around for the culprit. No one looks particularly suspicious, so he pockets the object, forgetting all about it as his math teacher springs a pop quiz on the class.

He doesn’t think about it again until the next day when he quickly trades his textbooks for his gym bag and hears something clatter to the bottom of his locker. Looking down, he sees another little heart resting there. Kneeling down, he picks it up and flips it so he can read the inscription on it.

“Hot stuff”. Well duh, he doesn’t need a candy heart to tell him that he’s hot. He is starting to get a bit curious about who’s leaving the hearts, though. It has to be the same person because it would be too big a coincidence for two people to have the exact same idea. He slides the second heart into the same jacket pocket as the first, intending to think more about it later, but by the time practice is done, he’s late for dinner and Neil is pissed, so it completely slips his mind.

By the end of the next day, he’s collected two more, one when he got to school, and one after lunch, both of them in the exact same spot, right at the front of his locker shelf, where he’s sure to see them. “Super cool” and “Groovy”. Whoever’s leaving the hearts must be a huge dork to use terms like that, but they make him smile anyway as he adds both of them to his small collection.

By the next morning, he’s come to expect a heart, and he’s admittedly a little bit embarrassed at how sad he is when there isn’t one there before homeroom. His spirits are lifted though, when he goes to grab the novel they’re reading in English and finds a fifth heart, pink, stamped with “Be good to me”. He’d like to be, but he’ll have a tough time of it if the mystery gifter doesn’t reveal their identity.

“You ever have a secret admirer?” he asks Harrington as they stand under the bleachers at lunch, sharing Steve’s sandwich and cookies while Billy has a smoke.

“No,” Steve says quickly. “Why?” He gives Billy a weird look, but Billy doesn’t really think much of it at the time. Steve’s a weird guy. If Billy took the time to dissect every weird thing he did, he wouldn’t have room in his brain for anything else. It sure is a good thing Steve’s pretty.

Billy shrugs. “Just wondering. I think I might have one. I keep finding these candy hearts in my locker, but there’s never any note, just the hearts. For four days now.” He pulls them out of his pocket and thrusts them at Steve who takes them, looking each one over, carefully considering the messages.

“Sugar daddy, huh?” Steve laughs, holding up the first heart. “Is that something you’d be into?”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Billy replies, snatching his hearts back, trying to fight the blush creeping it’s way onto his cheeks at the thought of being Steve’s sugar daddy. God, he’s got to get over his stupid crush and just be happy to call the big dork his best friend.

It doesn’t stop him from imagining Steve taking his time to pick out perfect messages for Billy and sneaking them into his locker to put a smile on his face every time he finds a new one. By the day before Valentine’s Day, he’s got at least twenty hearts, some of his favourites reading “Be my love dove” and “I hope”. He’s stopped even trying to sneak up on his locker, because if it’s not Steve leaving the hearts, then he doesn’t care who it is.

Of course, as soon as he stops trying to find out the identity of his admirer, he catches them in the act. He’s forgotten his novel for English again, and the teacher lets him run back to his locker five minutes after class starts. The halls are deserted, except for someone, no, two someones, standing right in front of Billy’s locker.

He slows his pace, hoping he doesn’t scare them away. He squints, trying to make out who they are, wracking his brain, trying to think of what girls might fit the description of short, with short dark hair, and it looks like one of them is wearing a baseball cap? Billy really does need to go to the optometrist.

He tiptoes down the hall, making it to his locker just in time for Henderson and little Byers? to turn around, staring at him with wide eyes, looking ready to run for their lives.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Billy asks, really hoping that he doesn’t have to be a jerk and tell little Byers that he doesn’t return his feelings. The kid’s already struggling to find himself as it is. He doesn’t need the added stink of romantic failure.

“Uhhhhhhh, we thought you might like a little treat?” Henderson says, shoving an open box of candy hearts into Billy’s hands and trying to move around him to safety.

“I don’t think so,” Billy replies, holding out his arms and easily blocking both of them from moving. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me who put you up to this. Was it my sister? That little rat’s been trying to get back at me for accidentally eating her Home Ec brownies for weeks now.”

Just then, he hears a voice around the corner. “Dustin, Will,” the voice hisses. “Did you get the combination right this time? We have to get out of here quick, I don’t want Billy to know how I feel yet…”

And with that, Steve comes into view, his eyes growing bigger than both Dustin and Will’s as he spots Billy. He tries to turn and run, the little bastard, leaving the kids to fend for themselves, but Billy’s not letting anyone go without an explanation.

“Freeze” he whisper shouts and Steve does as he’s told, slowly turning to face Billy again.

He sighs, ducking his head as he walks over to them. “Let the squirts go, they were just helping me.”

Billy lowers his arms and Will and Dustin scramble away as fast as lightening, leaving him and Steve awkwardly alone.

“So, care to explain what’s going on?” Billy asks, still holding the stupid box of hearts, trying to take deep breaths to calm his wildly beating heart. “Please tell me this isn’t some kind of sick prank, Harrington.”

Steve shakes his head vigorously. “No, Billy, I swear, it’s not. Everything those hearts said is true. I do think you’re groovy and super cool, and you are hot stuff, and I want you to be me sugar daddy. Not literally, but the idea is kind of hot. I just didn’t know how to tell you how I feel. But I want you to be my love dove, I want you to be mine, as cheesy as that sounds. Will you? Be mine, that is?”

He looks at Billy with hopeful eyes, and instead of answering, Billy pours some of the hearts in the box into the palm of his hand, trying to look for the perfect one. When he finds it, he presses it into the palm of Steve’s hand.

Steve looks down at it, a smile slowly spreading over his face as the message sinks in. “Kiss me” he reads out loud. “Gladly.”

And with that, the candy hearts are clattering to the ground, forgotten as Steve slides his hands into Billy’s hair and claims his lips with his own in a gentle kiss. It’s quick, for fear of being caught, but that’s ok. There’s always later. A million other opportunities for Billy to love up on the sweet as sugar dork standing in front of him.

[safetycar-restart]

Pierre in a porn au is such an attention whore omg. He absolutely soaks up the attention and he puts on a great performance, and he’s a star, but you know, only you know, that it’s just that: a performance. At home, he’s quieter, would rather cuddle after sex than anything else, and it’s never big huge scenes at home. He performs for his job, but never for you. Any sounds you bring out of him are genuine.

You're so right about this oh my god he would THRIVE.

So firstly, Pierre puts on one hell of a performance in every single one of his shoots. He's just.... he's obscene.

The only issue with Pierre is that he can't do any pornos that involve an actual storyline. You can't have him be the stepbrother or the pool boy or teacher or the student. He can't do those, because those require some actual acting before the sex starts.

He has no interest in that, and if you try to make him do that then he'll just be eyefucking whoever he's shooting with and not even bothering his lines.

But he does such a good job, so it's fine.

He's just so shameless about it. He's so so good at taking people apart and fucking them so hard that they can't walk. And his dirty talk is next level. He's so good at it, and he goes between dirty talk and moans so easily.

And I love the idea that he's completely different off camera. I think maybe he has an arrangement with you that every time he does a shoot, he gets to go home with you afterwards? You're always there for aftercare for your actors, and anyone can come to your office whenever they need attention.

But you have a special arrangement with Pierre. He give his all in his shoots, and then he gets to go home with you afterwards.

He's always so quiet once the shoot is over, changing into comfortable clothes and coming into your office. He sits on the couch, cuddled up with a blanket and waiting for you to finish your work. If you're reviewing videos, then often you'll go sit on the couch with Pierre and he watches with you. He doesn't actually comment much, but he enjoys sitting there with you.

He knows your home like the back of his hand by this point, so the moment you get back he just drops his bag in your bedroom and then goes to the kitchen to make some tea or get some food. It's always a calm, quiet evening that follows.

And at some point, there's always sex involved. The sex is soft and sweet, and he makes the sweetest little whimpers and whines. You always top and dom him, letting him just relax and be taken care of.

Pierre sleeps in your bed with you, curling up against your chest and it's always the best sleep of his week.

And then the morning is pierre's favourite time, because he wakes you up between your thighs. He LOVES eating you out, so so much and he loves doing it every morning. It is a requirement, he'll be very upset if you tell him the night before that he can't. It's his favourite part of the whole thing.

He comes to the studio with you after you two share a breakfast and then he fetches his own car from the studio and leaves for his day off.

You know it's weird and inappropriate to take one of your actors home every single night they film and sleep with them. But it's Pierre, and you've never been able to refuse him anything.

[docholligay]

Dr. Holligay Tries Things That Aren't Running: Cycling

In the most technical sense, I have done cycling before. That it was 8 years ago and once did not seem to even cause me a moment's pause. I have done this before! This is fine, and then I will get my little sticker to help me win my unbelievably stupid kitchen item.

So I walk into the cycling room, and I set up my bike. I don't remember anything about how a bike is supposed to fit, except maybe something vague about the seat hitting at your hip, which I manage to do, and then set up my silly little water bottle, and sit on the bike, waiting.

This place is PACKED. Everyone else is either also trying to win a kitchen item, or whatever other prizes they have that I have completely ignored, or, they have actual goals for their lives that are not about saving 300 bucks at the specialty kitchen store. Most alarmingly, everyone else seems to know what they are doing, while I'm sitting here hoping nobody notices my eyes are wandering desperately about the place.

The lights turn off, replaced by various LED strings in green and purples, as a woman with a pixie haircut* and a bright smile walked into the room and immediately switched the music on. All of a sudden, we are in the club. It is loud and thumping through my chest. I know I complain about noise a lot, and it is very true, but there's something I very much like about music so loud that you can feel it in your body and most importantly, you can't hear anything else. A lot of what annoys me about noise is the crowding of it. Anyway, you don't care about that, but I immediately start warming up a little faster.

So deep was I in this clubbing moment that the instructor, she of the pixie haircut, who I'm going to call Straight Country Lena, which will tell you how the rest of this is going to go, SCARES THE SHIT OUT OF ME by appearing at my side and going, "Chocolate espresso bean?"

I damn near jump off the bike, and she starts laughing. Her smile is huge, and her nose wrinkles when she does it.

"Sorry! I know the music is loud, it's loud because...it's my class and I like it loud." another peal of laughter. "Amanda teaches it quieter, if you like that. Oh! Let me bring up your handlebar, it's too low. Espresso bean? They're chocolate."

All of this has happened over the span of less than 30 seconds and suddenly my handlebar is up, and I gratefully accept an espresso bean. She offers everyone in class a bean, and then goes up to the front and puts on her mic.

"Hi there! In January I try to remember to introduce myself. Letr's do a warmup, yeah, alright, my name's Lena, lots of new faces toiday I love that--parking was awful today, wundnit? God. But you know what?" ANother big smile, "Oh, stretch out your back right now--I was thinkin, I hope every person who's here in January is here in July. So I can share the lot. It's okay if you didn't get your favorite bike. Right, good story Lena, I'm Lena! I teach cycling and early morning group power, I'm a little bit yeehaw, so there's other teachers, I won't take it personally. Let's go!"

Y'ALL.

I am a woman of intense energy. I am reasonably athletic. I have nothing on SCL. She is riding her bike at 100 rpms or better, and every once in a while, she glaces down at her resistance and goes, "Okay, I'm at a 22, so figure yourselves out from there!" while I'm dying at a 13. We're huffing and puffing and she's singing along, and dancing on the bike. She's cheering for individual people who are obviously regulars.

We get into a part of the class that's like, sprints, and she goes, "I went to school on a rodeo scholarship so we're gonna BARREL RACE**" which by the way, is bearing down for a sprint as HARD AS YOU POSSIBLY CAN for a solid 20 seconds, while she--also doing it, by the way-- is telling you to push! that!! pony!! At the edge of every sprint she'd go, top of her lungs, "YEEEEEEEEEEEEE HAAAAWWWWWWW!!" and the regulars would do it right back though I have no idea how.

Some other quotes from her rambling while also doing a huge, athletic workout.

"I have to teach a chunk of classes every morning or my husband'll divorce me" laughter, again, "He says I'm a sheepdog and need too much activity"

"Don't mind me I just keep talking sometimes. Some people have verbal diarrhea but I've got Montezuma's revenge up here"

"Every year I say I'm gonna get ripped and then I remember I have a kid and drink beer."

"Do we all like the music? Tell me what you like and I'll work it into next week. Unless I hate it."

*My personal favorite, after someone asked her if something was dangerous* "Well, you gotta die of something."

And then she capped off our final sprint by running around the room, up and down every row of bikes, ringing a cowbell over her head and occasionally jumping going "last push! last push! Let's do it! Then you can join me for the core class next door after!"

The woman was insane. i loved her. I will not attend cycling again as it is is everything I find hard about running and none of the things I like about it, only also add weight to your legs, and while I'm sure it would be great crosstraining for my legs I also hated this class while being able and willing to join her cult at a moment's notice. I want her in my ear when I run.

But I got my sticker, and I am definitely going to her core class.

*There IS a difference between a men's haircut and a pixie haircut. I am very femme, sure, but I have a men's haircut I can pretty easily style feminine. This woman had a pixie haircut which never looks masculine at all to me.

**The minute she said this, I went, "Oh obviously" she was built exactly like a barrel racer, small, but solid

[seenoversundown]

Sparrow Of the Dawn : Chapter 4

Sam Kiszka x Willa (Female OC) Warnings: Teasing (in the making fun of each other way), dark humor, subtle pining, cursing, mentions of drinking/alcohol, and a lot of clumsy girl behavior.

Word Count: 7.6k

Summary : Sam unfortunately finds himself in not so meet cute with Willa. Hopeful that he doesn't cross her path again; the world works in mysterious ways and not always in your favor.

Author's Note: Just wanted to take a second to leave some resources in regards to learning about and assisting those affected by the genocide in Palestine. There aren’t words strong enough to convey how devastating the loss is. I will leave a few resources I have found linked and always remember that we’re not free until Palestine is free. #Ceasefire #FreePalestine 🇵🇸

• Six Ways To Help

• Carrd Full of helpful Links and Resources

• Daily Click!

Gives You Hell - All American Rejects “When you see my face, hope it gives you hell, gives you hell.”

I feel like I could fight God when my alarm clock goes off in the morning and my first thought is that I'll have to see Sam all day. Oh, great ruler of the Cosmos, please grant me the strength to get through this day. So mote it be. 

 I slither out of bed like the morning gremlin I am, pull on my robe, and head out to the kitchen, where I know Quinn is already waiting. 

Quinn and I developed this cute morning routine back in college, where we met. We attended SCAD together and were lucky enough that we got along so well, both being art majors. Them in Art History and me in Photography. We used to cross the campus early enough to beat the lines, almost regretfully. We’re not exactly the greatest of morning people. I’d get the drinks, though, and they get the food. Only back then, it was just them assembling the breakfast sandwiches in the cafeteria while I tried to make the instant coffee drinkable. These days, it’s homemade lattes and skillfully grilled sandwiches. A vast improvement from our younger days. 

“Good morning, Willard,” They beam at me through heavily hooded eyes, already pulling out a pan.

“Morning,” comes out of my mouth in a choppy groan.

“Breakfast sammies?” They wiggle the pan a little. 

“Don’t!” I hold up my finger, “That is a banned word in this house.” I sit down on one of the stools at our island and place my head in my hands. 

“Breakfast?” they inquire. 

“No, Sammy.”

“Okayyyy.. Do you want a breakfast ‘he-who-shall-not-be-named?” they let out a chuckle. 

“HA HA, very funny,” I roll my eyes, “- but yes, please.” 

I make my way to the espresso machine, grabbing the portafilter and grinding up some fresh beans. I tamp down the grinds and place them back in their rightful spot before pressing the button to queue up the process. Repeating for Quinn’s second shot. Quinn is the complete opposite of basic in every aspect except their coffee order. A Vanilla Oat Milk latte, every time. I make it with extra love because that’s how it should be made. I quickly move on to my latte, only slightly adjacent to basic with toasted marshmallow flavoring instead. 

Finishing at roughly the same time we trade specialties and they say “Okay, all wrapped and ready to go when you are.”

“No, I have the time to sit and eat with you Quinny the Pooh, so that’s what I’m going to do.” I smile and make my way to the island in our kitchen. I prop up on my same stool and unwrap my sandwich. God, this looks good. If they weren’t an art teacher, they could hack it as a chef. 

Taking the first bite and rolling my eyes in the back of my head, “Good GOD, Quinn, you have outdone yourself again.”

“Thank you, Thank you. So tell me, how prepared are you to see Childish Sambino today?”

The glare I send them over my sandwich is deadly. “Do you have to talk about him?”

“We could talk about his mouth instead,” sending me a sideways glance. 

“Oh, would you look at that,” I glance down at my bare wrist as if it contained the most interesting watch. “I’m actually running late. I need to get ready for work.” I set my sandwich back down on the paper and rewrap it to take it to go. 

“Have a good day. Make good choices because we just paid rent and I don’t have bail money,” They laugh maniacally. I send them a snarky glare back before shutting my bedroom door behind me. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

When I make it to the Portland Press Herald office, I open the door, and I’m greeted with the sweet face of an older woman working the desk. Thank god it’s not another Daisy. I’d rather jump off the building than have to watch Sam flirt with another girl all day. 

She leads me through the hallways until we reach a set of cubicles in the back corner.

 “Alright, this one is yours,” She points to the closest cubicle. “And this one,” she points to the cubicle diagonally across from it. “Is Samuel’s. I’ll send him over when he gets here and you can point it out to him if he gets lost.” Well, at least I won’t have to look directly at him. 

I start unloading my belongings onto my new desk and trying to arrange them perfectly. When Sam makes his appearance, he rounds the corner looking so good it's painful. The slim, dark blue slacks on his legs just hit the tops of his black Chelsea boots. A mixed red and blue sweater makes home on his chest, don’t think about his chest, with a navy linen winter jacket over top. God, he looks good. Annoying. No man my age looks like that let alone knows how to actually dress themselves. 

When I come to my senses, he’s standing expectantly next to my desk. Looking at me like he’s waiting for my reply to a question I haven’t heard him ask. Not willing to give in and appear like I’ve just been thinking about how hot this man I hate is, I dodge. 

I point to the clock reading 7:58 am, “Cutting it a little close, huh, Sammy boy.”

“It might not have been so close if you were sitting here staring at me like I’m a piece of meat.” He chides. Internally, I cringe. Yep, I was definitely not subtle. “I had car troubles,” He mumbles in a low tone, “Can you just show me which desk I’m supposed to sit at.” I wave my arm over toward his desk, and he walks away to get settled in his own space. Far away from me.. Well, okay, it's not that far, but it's far enough for me. 

He’s in a monumentally bad mood this morning, and after a while the sighs of frustration he's letting out start to tick me off. Who breathes that loudly on a normal day? We’re stuck inside the building researching things until we have an event or idea to even photograph, which is bad enough without the sound of his mouth. I just hope we can get it together sooner rather than later. The faster we find a subject matter, the more time we have to capture it. I hear another loud sigh. 

“Could you be any louder, Sam? All I can hear is your huffing?” I stand to get him in my eyeline over the divider. Big mistake. He’s wearing glasses now? I didn’t know he wore glasses. It should be illegal, to be honest, for him to look that good. 

“I’m just existing, Willa. Sorry that my existence annoys you.” He pauses, “Actually, I’m not sorry at all. I take great pleasure in the fact that my mere presence sends you into a fit of rage.” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with a cocky smile. 

  Oh dear god, I definitely didn't prepare for this, this morning.

“This is not a fit of rage.” I sit back down calmly. Nope, not entertaining this today.

After a few minutes, it’s Sam’s turn to stand. If I lift my head, then I have to talk to him, so I stare at my computer screen where I’m currently researching different parks in the area. He clears his throat, and I don’t move. I will not be beckoned by his antics. He clears his throat louder this time. 

“Yes, Samuel.” I finally stop and clasp my hands together, annoyed.

“When did that cafe open up? The new down the road?”

“A couple months ago. Why? Are you going to buy me a coffee to make up for annoying me this morning?” A pleasantly sarcastic smile makes its way to my lips.

“HAH, you wish. No, I thought it could be something to check out for the project.”

“I would hardly call that cafe something that is notable about Maine. It just opened.” 

Clearly offended, he states, “Alright, let’s hear your big idea then?”

Sighing heavily, “I know I opened the dialogue here with you Sam, but I’ve suddenly realized that I am far too under-caffeinated to continue to be annoyed by you.”

“Well,” he laughs a little, adding fuel to the fire that is my irritation, “Aren’t you just a breath of vile air this morning.” he snarks.

“I might be more pleasant if your voice wasn’t so grating.” I shoot back. If tension were a physical entity in this moment, someone would be slicing it like a block of cheese being prepped for a charcuterie board. My stomach grumbles slightly. Oh, I am not going to let this man ruin charcuterie boards for me just because I am hangry. 

“Shhhh,” someone a few isles extends their distaste for our conversation. 

“See, look at what you’ve done.” 

“Oh, what I’ve done. I didn’t realize I was talking to myself here.” He defends.

I sit back down in a huff. I cannot believe I have to spend the next few days with this man. A fact that makes it very hard not to get increasingly frustrated by the task at hand. It's March, there’s not a whole lot going on in the city and instead of a partner who is easy to collaborate with, I'm stuck with him. 

Just as I get ready to do more digging, I get an email. 

Samuel F. Kiszka shared a document with you.

I wonder what the F stands for. I click the link. Compelled by my own nonsense, I sing in my head ‘Wheezy F baby and the F is for front door.’  

The document is titled ‘Ideas’ and a singular sentence is typed.

Since you can’t stand the sound of my voice and we can’t talk without getting heavily shushed by Susan B. NoseyPants, does this work?

Why is this simultaneously endearing and aggravating? Because yes, yes, it does work.

We take the time over what feels like a few hours bouncing ideas back and forth, and nothing seems to land with either of us. 

Sam: Museums, theaters, ect, ect we even have Funtown for the kids?

Me: You want to lead with Funtown? Palace Playland is better AND by the beach even? If you don’t believe in it, neither will the people at the newspaper.

Sam: I’m not even going to entertain that argument because Palace Playland is definitely NOT better. Have you ever been on the Excalibur?

We both stare at the document, watching the line blink on the screen when the banter is no longer fun. He stands suddenly. “I’m hungry.” He states plainly. “It's almost lunchtime.”

“Astute observation, Samuel. Should we promote you to Captain Obvious?”

“You’re actually the funniest person I’ve ever met, you know. No. I know a place, you and I are going to go get lunch.” He puts on his coat and grabs his bag walking over to my side of the desks. 

“We are? When did I agree to that?” skepticism heavy in my tone.

“Just now.” The manner in which he speaks matter-of-factly almost has me giving in instantly. Almost. “We need to get out of these little satanic cubes of torture and do some brainstorming. But we need brain food. I’m hungry. You’re hungry. We’re going, but you have to drive.”

“How do you know I’m hungry?”

“I’ve heard your stomach growling for over an hour.”

“Fine.” I concede. “But you’re paying.” I grab my heavy cardigan, slipping it on, and then grabbing my purse.

“That’s the spirit.” He says jovially, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I try not to think too hard about the grip he has on me as we make our way downstairs.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The atmosphere of the restaurant he picked, “La Fromage”, is almost a bit uppity. How stuck up can you really be if you name your restaurant literally just ‘the cheese’. The lighting is low, even for the daytime, despite the two main windows in the front. The antique sconces create a nice, warm ambiance. It's a small room with bar seating and a few booths, which is where we take up residence right next to one of the windows. We’re tucked away in the corner but not too close to the front door. I slide into the booth against the wall while Sam takes the chair nearest to the walkway. 

“This place looks nice. I’ve never heard of it before. How’d you find it?” I’d be a fool to think he hasn't taken a girl here on a date before. He's young and attractive. A fact I would never admit out loud because it would just inflate his already massive ego. I’m sure he doesn’t have a problem dating, something I clearly can’t relate to. He did seem to hit it off with Daisy. I imagine this place in the evening; with the street lights coming in through the windows mixing with the amber lighting, it definitely sets a romantic tone. Much different than the tone of an afternoon in the middle of a work week. It would be lovely to come here on a date instead of a bar.

“They have a location in Boston, not far from where I went to school. I heard they opened a location up here not too long ago, but I haven’t come by yet. This seemed like the perfect opportunity.” He picks up the menu, giving it a once over before settling on the alcoholic portion. So he hasn’t been here on a date.. Yet. Ugh. Stop it. “You should get a glass of wine or something.” Not bothering to glance up at me. 

“I’m driving, Sam,” I state plainly. 

“If one glass of wine gets you drunk enough to not be able to drive you have other things to worry about,” he looks almost concerned for a moment before his face completely shifts. “Is that why you spilled your drink all over your date the other night?”

God, must I relive this? Why is he bringing it up? As if he has no idea it was his fault. “Sam, you snuck up behind me and scared me half to death. I jumped, it tipped. That’s it.” 

“If that’s your story.” The Cheshire cat smile painted on his lips looks almost good enough to smack. With my hand. Definitely my hand. 

I’m about to make a case for myself when the waiter approaches. 

“Afternoon, I’m Hunter. I'll be taking care of you today.” He looks over at me and winks. .. okay??? “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

Sam answers before my mouth even opens. “We’ll have two glasses of the 19 crimes red, please.” Why is he ordering for me? Hunter glances over at me like he’s trying to get a read on me. I realize then that my mouth is hung open slightly in disbelief. 

“Is that okay with you?” Hunter asks me. Sam scoffs. 

“Uh yes, yes, that’s fine.” I gain my composure and continue. “I’ll just also have a glass of water with no lemon, please. Thank you.” And with that, he turns and walks away. I don’t say anything. I just stare at Sam. He’s still gazing at his menu, brow furrowed a bit like he's mulling through his choices and can’t figure out what sounds good.

“19 crimes.” I chime. “Sounds devious. Did you commit all 19 by yourself? Or are you trying to drag me with you now?” 

He laughs. “You know you have to look at the menu in order to find something to eat, Willa.” The sound of my name on his tongue is jarring. Again, he’s not looking at me. I take his advice hastily grabbing my menu, peering at him over the top. There’s a smirk on his face. What is his deal? 

Hunter appears with our wine and my water with a lemon. Not wanting to create a fuss over a lemon I can very easily remove, I just say thank you when he sets it down on the oakwood table. 

“She asked for water without a lemon,” Sam’s face is serious; I sit there, horrified at the inconvenience to the waiter.  

“Oh, it's fine, really. Don’t-” he cuts my protest short, and I fidget, tucking my hair behind my ears.

“You asked for water with no lemon, Willa. This isn’t what you asked for.” Hunter takes the glass from his hand. When he turns and heads toward the kitchen, I whisper, “You didn’t have to do that, Sam. It’s not a big deal. Plus, that was kind of rude.”

“It’s not rude to expect to get what you asked for. You wanted water with no lemon, so you’ll get water with no lemon.” He says with finality. Why is that… attractive? I think he mistakes my stare as distaste for his commentary and quickly follows it up with, “If it makes you feel better, I’ll make sure to tip him well.” He shrugs a little.

I exhale heavily through my nose and change the subject, “What are you gonna get to eat?”

“The Gnocchi alla Sorrentini. What about you?”

“I was thinking of the Saffron Risotto aux Champignons. Have you tried it?” My mind drifts back to how many times he’s probably been to the other location and with whom. Wondering how many of these dishes he’s tried or if the menu is different there. How many glasses of wine he’s had or shared. 

“I have. It’s my favorite dish here. It’s very good,” When he flashes me a small, slightly lopsided smile, my heart squeezes in my chest. “I think you’ll like it.” 

We place our orders when Hunter comes back with my corrected water. He doesn’t make eye contact with Sam, but Sam looks directly at him when he tells him what he wants. There’s an obvious confidence about him that I like and something under the surface that feels almost like a challenge. Daring Hunter to look at him to know he has the upper hand on.. what, I can't figure out. Is this just some weird macho alpha male thing? I feel like one of them might start peeing on the floor to mark their territory in a minute. 

I tell Hunter my order and then switch my gaze to the window. Something I’ve always loved about Maine is the water. Across the street, back behind the sidewalk, is a relatively short dock. You can walk down it and see some of the boats lined up. There aren’t many since the area is narrow, but you can see out toward the river. Sometimes, you can see people in smaller fast boats; other times, it's the larger fishing boats. I once took a walk down that dock with an out-of-town friend of mine, and there was a lone man on his fishing boat throwing some lobsters back into the river. He offered to let us hold one for a photo which absolutely tickled my friend pink.

Hunter brings our food out and disappears without any other commentary. I’m not sure I could handle another moment of ‘big men puff out chest be intimidating’ behavior. I take a bite of the risotto, which tastes as good as it looks. God, I’m going to have to take Quinn here. They'd absolutely love it.

My thoughts are interrupted when a bird perched on the ledge just at the edge of the window catches my eye. And suddenly..

“Sam.” My eyes were fixated on the bird. He hums. “Do you .. hike?” Unsure if he’s an outdoorsy kind of guy, given how well he dresses himself.

“Yeah, all the time, why?”

“Maine is the pine tree state.” He sends me another mhm, not fully following my thought, “You know what one of my favorite things to shoot on hikes is?” I point toward the bird in the window, not giving him a chance to respond.

 “Nature. Literally, Maine is full of it. Like Acadia National Park? ‘Bah habah’” I say, mocking the more northern pronunciation of Bar Harbor. 

Finally, he reaches me at the mental finish line, “Nature! Birds, Trees, Parks, Woods.. No, you’re right? That’s what makes Maine, Maine.”

“Okay, but also beyond this little bird in the window, there’s the dock. Maine is incredibly coastal, lobsters and allathat. We could do both. Like the duality of the State. Woods and Water.” 

“Woods and water.” He repeats, taking a bite of his gnocchi. “Actually, you know what else could be a good idea? Old and New.”

“Old and new? What do you mean?”

“Digital and Print. I have a bunch of old film cameras. I kind of collect them,” a slight rosy tint covers his cheeks. “We could take an assortment of both digital and film photos and present both to the editors.”

“Sam, that's brilliant!” It takes us approximately three seconds to realize in my excitement, I’ve grabbed his hand that was laid on the table. We both pull away at the same time.

He clears his throat, “If you wanted, when we’re done, we could drive to my apartment, and we can take a look at the cameras I have and then figure out a plan.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” my meal suddenly becoming the most interesting thing to look at. 

After a small bit of silence, Hunter comes back with our checks. Yep, checks. Plural. Sam noticeably shifts in his seat. He is apparently incredibly put off by this, and he bites out, “Just one check will do, Heath.”

“It’s Hunter.” He corrects, unamused, as he grabs the checks.

“Sure.” is all Sam says. 

I laugh. I giggle, actually. Profusely. The situation at hand is far too entertaining to hold it in any longer. 

“What?” Sam grills me.

“Heath! You know his name is Hunter.” I try to cover my giggle with my hand. 

“I do, but I had to knock him down a peg. Assuming that I’d make you pay for your food?” he scoffs. 

“I am not breaking up a fight, so reel it in, buddy.” I shake my head.

 Hunter arrives with a corrected, singular check, sending us off with a ‘have a very pleasant day.’ Probably trying to play up a last-ditch effort of hospitality to ensure a decent tip still. Sam’s brow furrows as he looks over the check, he sets it down and runs his hand through his hair. No man should have hair that beautiful. My hair isn't even that beautiful. He starts to furiously pat himself down. 

“I.. think I left my wallet in the office.” Oh great. Wonderful. Annoys me all morning, cons me into driving, and now I have to pay. 

He winks at me, “Just kidding.” Tucking a few bills into the check holder and standing. What’s with everyone winking at me?

“Asshole.” I roll my eyes, grab my jacket, and slide out of the booth. As I stand, my foot catches on the leg of the table, and I slip. Sam rushes over to steady me upright back on my feet. 

“Wow, you really are a cheap date, huh?” he jests. I try not to think about that too hard. “You sure you’re okay to drive?”

“I’m fine. My foot got caught, okay? I am not drunk. It was one glass.”

“Sounds like something a drunk person would say.” His laugh is infectious, and I hate it. It's very hard to stay annoyed at someone who laughs like they’re high on edibles all the time. But not in a Beavis and Butthead kind of way, in a carefree kind of way.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The drive to Sam’s apartment is short; he lives closer than he made it seem which makes it easy. What is not easy, however, is the fact that there's off-street parking. I end up parking my Silver Honda CRV down the road a little by a very creepy looking ally, and we make the short walk back to his apartment. He lives on the second floor, so we at least avoid being locked in an elevator again and just take the stairs. 

“Soo, I wasn’t expecting company, so don’t expect it to be too clean. And I should also warn you…”

“Warn me about what,” I say nervously. He opens the door in lieu of a response, and one of the largest dogs I’ve ever seen comes skidding across the floor. The dog jumps on Sam as he gently coos, “Woah down girl, down.” He scratches her behind the ears and continues his adoration. “How’s my girl today, huh? Did you miss me? Daddy missed you so much while he was gone.” Oh.

I step into the apartment and close the door behind me, coming into her view. She switches gears and suddenly jumps at me with full force. Given her size, and me being the least graceful person on the planet. I almost fall on my ass. 

“Op,” I blow a puff of air toward my nose, trying to get some of her hair out of the way. When I steady myself on two solid feet, thank you very much, I ask, “And what’s your name, pretty girl? I didn’t know you had a dog.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me. It’s Penelope, by the way.” Sam replies. “Or Duchess, or Penny, Penny girl. Whichever you prefer.”

“Penelope is a pretty name. You hear that? Pretty name for a pretty girl huh?” I coo in a slight baby voice. She is a gorgeous dog even if she is large. Her coat is incredibly soft. It's covered in black and brown with white all down her belly and just a bit on her nose.

“You know you can come in, right? You don’t have to stand by the door?” He waves me in. 

“Uhm, actually. I have to use the bathroom, do you mind?” I hate this part. The awkward, I don't know you that well, and now we're talking about bodily functions, part of getting to know someone. 

“Yeah, but it's actually through my bedroom.” He points to the doorway behind me. “First door is my closet, the second door is the bathroom.”

I walk through the doorway and take in my surroundings. Sam’s room is different than I expected and somehow exactly like I expected it to be. Not that I’ve pictured it, because I definitely have not. He has a king-sized bed with boring gray sheets. Typical. His deep wood nightstand sits just below one of 2 windows in his room, both without curtains. It’s pretty bare just an alarm clock, a lamp, and a charging pad for his phone. He has a few small plants in the window, which I should have expected given there’s a handful of plants in his kitchen. The walls are bare, apart from the few prints above his bed that’s sat on a frame with no headboard. I wonder if they’re his photos? He has a dresser that matches his nightstand and a TV on top with a gaming console. A very standard boy room apart from the few totes of his film strips that hang around. I suddenly realize I’ve been lingering too long in a space that isn’t mine, and I make my way to the bathroom, but not before I accidentally open his closet. Wow, he has a lot of clothes? I start to finger my way through the various fabrics. A man with a sense of style, so uncommon for this area. I close the closet door and choose the right door this time. 

I rinse my hands under the warm faucet, letting my eyes close, and the water start to warm me. This is going to be fine. I look at myself in the mirror. It's going to be fine. The project will be fine. You and Sam will get along… eventually. You’ll get the job and you’ll never have to talk to him again. It’ll be fine. If I say the words enough, maybe I’ll start to believe them. I dry my hands off and exit the bathroom with a silent wish that I took less time than it feels like I did. 

I pop my head back into the kitchen area where I first walked in, but I don’t see him.. Or Penelope. I take small, cautious steps toward what I assume is the living room. Just as I’m about to enter, I run full-bodied into Sam, causing my forehead to bounce right off his collarbone. A mixture of frustrated sounds escapes the two of us before he plants both his large hands on my shoulders and steps an arm’s length away from me. I rub at the pain between my eyes. Ouch.

“I thought you got lost for a minute.”

“No I just.. Didn’t know where you were. I wasn’t trying to invade your space.”

“Little late for that, isn’t it,” he gestures a hand between us, referring to our closeness. “Plus, there are only so many rooms, Willa. You would have found me eventually.” I hate it when he says my name. He turns and walks farther into the room calling after me, “You comin?”

I enter the room and it’s actually fairly large for it being in the city. Good, decent-sized apartments are hard to find here. There’s a half-brick wall behind the orange couch. The large windows set above it let in a ton of light but somehow don’t reflect off the TV screen sitting opposite it. He has records stored in a few different places and an old-style record player. A Fender Bass guitar and a small amp sit in the corner. I didn't know he could play an instrument. A small standing desk in the corner where his laptop sits among various other papers and notebooks. And to the left, there's a beautiful wall of shelves set up with a handful of film cameras. All old, each serving a unique purpose. It’s heaven for a person like me. I don't know why I've never thought to collect film cameras before. 

“Wow.” It comes out of my mouth barely above a whisper.

“I know. It's my favorite part of my house.” He’s proud. And he should be. I can feel the weight of his eyes on me, studying my reaction.

“Where did you get them all?” I question, reaching to touch one before I pull my hand back. It would be rude to just touch something so delicate and important, but the desire in me is burning. 

“Flea markets and vintage shops. Ebay. I even bought one off Etsy, oddly enough.” 

The anticipation is killing me, and I start to shift anxiously on my feet. I feel like a child at a candy store waiting for permission to let loose and stock my bag full. I’m sure from the outside I look like a child at a candy store, but I don’t care. If Sam didn’t annoy me so much, I might try to con my way into being friends with him just so I can test each one out. Every old camera has its own quirks it has developed over the years. Like it curated its own personality, stealing bits from each person that has held it. It’s a fun experience to learn a camera. 

“Go ahead.” he stifles his chuckle. 

I run my fingers over the few cameras on the bottom shelf.  He has a few different cameras from a few different decades, definitely older than both of us combined. I settle on a ‘1981 vintage Kiev camera Jupiter’; it doesn't shoot in 35mm like most standard film cameras. It shoots in 8m, creating a wider shot, not quite like today's panorama views. 

“I love that one. She creates these really beautiful wide shots. You gotta make sure you press quick and hard, though, or you won’t actually capture the photo.” He steps behind me and places his hand on mine, tilting the camera upwards before pointing at the button he’s referencing. His hands are so warm. When I inhale to disrupt my own thoughts, my back touches his chest. His chest is warm, too. Oh God. It's too warm in here. I step forward and turn around, facing him again. 

“She’s beautiful. I think I’ll go with this one. Thank you, Sam.” I dare to look at his coffee-colored eyes. “I know lending out something this special is a big deal. So thank you.”

“Just be careful. Josephine was a hard find." He grabs the camera from my hand and walks over to the couch where his camera bag is, slipping it inside.

“Josephine?” I question, “Do you.. name all your cameras?”

“Don’t judge me, okay. You’re telling me you don’t name yours? What about your car huh?” Oh, he’s got me there.

“I.. have named every car I’ve ever had.” I raise my hands in defeat and bow my head in amusement. 

“Alright then. Take your judgy pants off and leave 'em at home.”

“Hey, aren’t you going to grab one?” avoiding the previous comment entirely. 

“Nah, I always have my Olympus on me. I shoot on film any chance I can get.” He picks up his bag and slides it back on his shoulder. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Back in my car and buckling our seat belts, he says, “So I was thinking about the woods and water idea, and maybe we can shoot in town to save time and then, uhm, tomorrow.. uhh, if you’re free, we could do the woods stuff.” He seems nervous, and I can’t quite place my finger on why. I agree, placing my car in reverse and backing onto the main road. 

“I know of a nice place we can go… For tomorrow, I mean.”

“Should I be concerned you’re going to murder me in the woods?”

“I would never do that.”

“Sounds like something a murderer would say to a potential victim.” I side-eye him before returning my gaze to the road. “Don’t try anything, I most definitely will be bringing pepper spray tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m on sabbatical. Even serial killers need a break.” He flashes me a cocky smile and winks at me once again. The next person who winks at me is going to end up with their eyeball on a skewer. I SWEAR.

“Okay, now we're taking separate cars. That is, if you can even make it.”

“How dare you talk about Edith like that.” Raising his eyebrows in offense. “She is a gem and has been through a lot. She just needs TLC is all.”

“Edith? Josephine? What is this, the 1940s?” 

“Hey! Edith and Josephine are great names. They’re vintage– my truck is older than I am, so it makes sense.” He shrugs. “What’s your car's name, huh?”

“Jon Bon Silver Fox.” I try not to smile at the ridiculousness of it, but it’s sentimental, sort of. And it makes me laugh.

“Jon Bon… Silver Fox..” repeating my words slowly. “Like Jon Bon Jovi?”

“Like Jon Bon Jovi. My mom loved him when I was growing up so she always had his music playing, I grew up loving him too. Nowadays he's a silver fox, my car is silver, therefore: Jon Bon Silver Fox.”

“You would like mom-rock,” we both laugh, and I send him a small eye-roll to follow. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After finding another off-street parking spot, god, I hate Portland. We have a small huddle before deciding to split up and see what we can find. Our version of splitting up is just heading the same way down the road and shooting on opposite sides of the sidewalk, but it works. 

As annoying as the parking situation is in this city, it's absolutely beautiful here. Every building is made up of tattered red bricks because everything in this city is old. Old, but beautiful. There’s a history here, every spot has a story. Every small restaurant is owned by someone's grandfather or great-grandfather and passed down through generations. Sidewalks with initials carved into them, we even have our own version of the ‘love locks’. 

The evening breathes a different light, though. It’s painted with character right down to the cobblestone streets the drunk girls wobble down during the summer nights. The “cobble wobble” will never not be funny to me, especially since I’ve been that girl a time or two. 

I spot a Song Sparrow; at least I think that’s the correct bird. It's a small little thing with a tan body and dark brown spots, and it's absolutely beautiful. I crouch down, trying to make myself small so he doesn’t get scared and fly away. Aiming for a shot on the vintage camera I’ve borrowed from Sam, I realize the view is far too wide for what I need. 

“Sam!” I whisper-shout, looking around for him. When I don’t see him I call his name again a little louder. He pops his head up from behind a bush and I frantically wave him over pressing a finger to my lips to quiet him. He kneels down behind me. 

“I need this,” I say, grabbing his camera, still attached to his neck by his camera strap. He leans into me further as I pull the viewfinder close to my eye. I adjust the settings as quickly as I can so I don’t miss it.

He's far too close to my ear when he whispers to me, “I can take it off, you know?” A shiver runs down my back from the heat of his breath. Focus, Willa. 

“There’s no time. I don’t want him to fly away,” I click a couple times, and he shifts on his feet, crinkling whatever wrapper is trapped between his shoe and the pavement. 

“Shhhh,” I reach my hand across my body and grab his face blindly, my eye still glued to the camera. “Don't. Move.” I release him. One more click, and I’m certain I’ve got a good shot. 

“Did you get it?” He whispers in my ear again. I turn to face him, and he is so close to me. I follow his eyes as they meet mine and drop down to my lips. Oh, no.

I clear my throat, “Yeah, I think I did. Uhm,” I squeeze my lids shut and pause, trying to center myself. We both rush to stand at the same time. In the flurry of limbs, I seem to trip over my own foot, losing my balance completely. Sam lunges toward me but isn’t quick enough. I have no idea how I am the least graceful person alive. I grab the antique camera around my neck and on my way to the ground and try my best to hold it in the air. My ass takes all the damage in the fall but the camera remains perfectly intact. I breathe a sigh of relief, if Josephine was hard to find once, she'd be hard to find twice. 

“Jesus christ, Willa,” he hurries to my side. His next words don’t match the concern on his face. “You have to be more careful. You could have broken something!” He scolds me. His camera? That’s what he's worried about? I look down at the palm on my left hand, it's scuffed and bleeding slightly. Small rocks embedded in my skin. My ass is definitely going to have a bruise.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine. Your camera is fine,” I roll my eyes and brush myself off before standing. I hiss as my hand starts to throb. “Ah fuck” I mutter under my breath, waving my hand, trying to shake off the pain. 

“No..” a prolonged deep sigh escapes his lips. “Never mind, just be more careful,” reiterating his initial point. 

“Yeah, Got it.” I snap. Annoyance settles through me to my core once again. A constant state of being when I’m around him. Does he really think I’d be the type of person to let his shit break? “No, you know what. You always have some slick comments to say. Like you might just spontaneously combust if the world doesn’t hear your shitty commentary. Why are you always a jerk?”

“Telling you to be careful, is me being a jerk?” He defends.

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to your camera, Sam. So, please, can you not think I’m an idiot for five seconds?” I huff out.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot? I think you’re a klutz and definitely way too cranky for your own good, but I definitely don’t think you’re stupid.” Sounding slightly confused. For the love of god, why is he confused? 

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Can we go? I got what I needed, and I definitely don’t want to look at you anymore.” I start to head back toward my car. 

“I hope it gives you hell when you do, Birdie.” he follows in my footsteps. Birdie? What the hell is that?

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I somehow have found myself back at the Caravel Tavern. I say somehow but what I really mean is Quinn forced me, and I really can never say no to them. They know that and pull the ‘I’m your best friend’ card constantly. They’re lucky I love them so much.

“I cannot believe you made me come back here.” I shrink in my seat, trying to appear as small as possible. We’re sitting toward the back but not entirely in the corner. I face the door so I can see most of the bar to try and prevent someone from sneaking up on me. A thing that I learned does not actually work when it comes to this place. 

“Please, you act like I'm not at all nosy and don’t want to see the face of the man who keeps you lying awake at night.” Quinn teases.

“I do not lie awake at night. He just annoys me every waking moment of every waking day that I have to interact with him. Did I tell you he wore glasses today? It’s bad enough that he knows how to dress himself, but then to wear glasses? It made his face extra punchable.”

“Babes, that’s called cuteness aggression.”

“No, Absolutely not. He’s annoying, not cute. He also started calling me Birdie today. No idea why. Birdie??” In the middle of my defense, I notice Quinn’s eyes go wide and then the bartender I haven’t met yet appears from behind me, effectively scaring me. What is it with this place?

“Welcome, Welcome!” he says, as cheerful as if sunshine itself had manifested in our presence.

“Is it written in the manual as a requirement that you sneak up behind your guests and scare them?” I inquire. 

“Ahh yes, actually. It's in the section of the manual right next to ‘How to deal with cheeky customers’,” He throws me an equally cheeky side eye and a smile. 

“Ya know, I like you. At least one of you can grow a mustache around here.”

“I’m not Employee of the Month for nothing. Be on the lookout for a framed photo of yours truly on the wall over there.” He makes a small gesture toward the bathrooms. 

“So what, can I get you started with today?” At least one person who works here is funny. He’s charming in a way that Sam wishes he was. Effortlessly so. He’s not cocky or arrogant, he’s just funny and warm. Warm in a way that if all the people of the world were like that, it would be a better place. He takes our orders, making us laugh through the whole interaction, which is a nice change of pace from the last few days. He pauses a moment before he leaves and his gaze lingers on Quinn a bit. Interesting.

“I think he thinks you’re cute, Q,” I whisper to them like a gossiping old bitty. 

“He’s related to the owner.” They tell me, whispering back.  

“Jesus Christ, there’s three of them?”

“Three of them?”

“Yeah, the one who can’t grow a mustache owns the bar, and Sam is his brother. If this one is related to the owner too, then they’re all brothers.” I pause.

 “Wait, how do you know he’s related to the owner?” I look over toward the bar and accidentally make eye contact with Sam. “Oh god.” I whisper, “That’s him. Quinn, don’t look, he's coming over here.”

“What happened to not wanting to look at me? Change your mind and come to gaze at my devilish handsomeness?” Sam exudes cockiness from every orifice. What a tool. 

“Devilish, yes. Handsome, debatable. I came for a drink. Had to unwind after dealing with the world's worst coworker today.” I flutter my eyelashes and throw him a sarcastic smile. 

“Yeah, that Susan is an uptight bitch, huh?” He takes notice of Quinn, looking them up and down in their striped, earth-toned sweater and mocha-colored overalls. Their hair in their signature pixie cut curls. 

“And who is this?” He asks while maintaining his gaze on Quinn. 

“Uh, Sam, this is my roommate, Quinn. Quinn, this is my project partner, Sam.” He reaches out to shake their hand, which they return apprehensively.

“Birdie, you didn’t tell me your roommate was hot.” I would pay money to have had someone record this interaction because Quinn’s face is priceless. Maybe now they understand the hell I go through.

The third brother appears from out behind Sam, then in the sneaky way they all seem to have perfected. 

“OKAY.” He says loudly, clamping his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Don’t you have some shit to take care of? Like your job.” Sam starts to try, and pull his shoulder away. By the grimace he’s making, he has a tight grip on his brother. Sam breaks free and rubs at his shoulder. 

“Ow, Josh,” He says, not low enough to escape my ears. What a baby. I wonder if he’ll complain about that, too. Probably. 

“So, sorry about him. He doesn’t get out much. He acts a bit rabid when he sees real people.” Josh pads off to return to his other duties. 

“Do you see what I mean? He’s intolerable.”

“Absolutely, completely intolerable.”

“Thank you.” 

“No, you’re right, Wilson. Sam IS cute.” They say a bit too loud for my taste. “Shhhhh. I never said that!” I look around frantically to see if any of the brothers are within earshot and regretfully notice a smirk on Sam’s lips. Curse Quinn and their antics.

&lt;- Chapter Three Chapter Five

Masterpost | Taglist

Taglist 💜 :

(I don't know what happened last week with the tags I double checked this week 😅)

@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @mindastreamofcolours @imleavingyoufornewyork @dont-go-home-without-me@literal-dead-leaf, @lizzys-sunflower @threadofstars @mackalah @klarxtr @ourlovesdesire, @writingcold @edgingthedarkness @takenbythemadness @i-love-gvf @ladywhimsymoon @earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf, @violet-hayes @anythingforjtk

[hypersonic04]

A new teacher in her department who flirts with her incessantly and won't take no for an answer or doesn't get the hint that she's loved up with Mr Mac (we all know the type) Or maybe its before they're official and Ross is feeling vaguely threatened and insecure because teacher girl and new teacher have to work so closely on a school project and he doesn't get to see as much of her.

Omg this is such a good idea, I love this so much.

I think he’s a new English teacher, maybe a couple of classrooms down from yours, and at first, he just seems really lovely! You’re too sweet to be rude when he keeps popping into your classroom for a bit of advice, and I think it goes straight over your head. It’s his first day, and who are you to say no when he asks if you can give him a hand? It’s not until you’re sat in the car on the way home, Ross in the drivers seat, taken by surprise when he mentions him - “he’s quite friendly, the new one, isn’t he?”. You’re like ‘yeah, I guess so.’, kind of confused as to why he’s pursing his lips and his eyebrows are raised. He doesn’t mention it again that evening, but as the weeks go by and the new guy starts to flirt with you more and more (despite the fact that he watches you arrive and leave with Ross every day, and often seeing him pressing a kiss to your forehead when the two of you think no one’s around), Ross starts to get a bit annoyed. It comes to a halt when you go on a work’s night out, maybe someone’s leaving do, and there’s just a few of you sat around the table. New guy is all like ‘have you got plans after this?’ and you feel Ross’ hand on your thigh tense a little. Your eyes widen and you find yourself looking from new guy to Ross, and you’re like, ‘uh, going home with my boyfriend, I think!’, looking to Ross and taking his hand in yours. New guy’s face is a picture and he gets a bit flustered, the complete opposite of Ross’: ridiculously smug lol.

If we’re talking about before you’re together, I think Ross is so bloody jealous. What do you mean his seat next to you in the staff meeting is taken? You look at him with apologetic eyes and your bottom lip pulled inwards, and he’s gestures to you like ‘don’t worry about it!’. As you said, you and the new guy have to work together quite a bit because you’re in the same department, which Ross doesn’t like one little bit. I think one night he comes to get you so you can both leave (yeah, you’re not dating yet, but he will not leave you in the building on your own under his watch lol, he gives you lifts all of the time!), and new guy’s in there. He’s like ‘oh, uh, sorry. are you ready to leave? it’s fine if not, I-‘ and the look on his face actually hurts your heart. You have 0 interest in new guy, and you worry that he’s getting the wrong end of the stick. You’re like ‘yeah I’m ready! just need to get my coat, left it in the staff room earlier.’. When you leave the room, there’s kind of a tense silence, and new guy’s asks ‘so are you two dating, or…?’ and it takes everything in Ross to say no lol. Thank God you appear before the conversation can go on any further, and you’re looking up at him with a smile and a hand on his arm like ‘come on, let’s go.’. You say goodbye to new guy and the ride home in the car is quiet. He asks about him, and you try your very best to show him how uninterested you are - ‘he’s nice enough, just a bit much. I don’t know.’. You talk about how you don’t really get to spend much time together anymore and Ross is just a bit standoffish, nervous to make it so obvious that he’s in love with you and insanely jealous. It goes quiet for a bit again, until you’re like ‘he doesn’t bring me bars of Dairy Milk like you do, so…’. The grin on Ross’ face makes your heart flutter, and you better believe the next morning you go in and there’s the biggest bar of chocolate on your desk lol.

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 4/5

What am I feeling today?

I’m feeling alright, I was quite productive yesterday which was good! I’m a little anxious of what today will bring but I look forward to it anyways! Hope to be in the OR this morning but whichever unit I’m floated to is sure to be enjoyable🤗

Luke 19 NIV

(v. 8-10) “But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.” Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.””

Zacchaeus was a tax collector and some people were judging that Jesus would be eating with a sinner. But here we see that he was willing to give up his possessions and Jesus rewarded him. Also the last line is so crucial! Jesus came to seek and save the lost!!

(v. 35-40) “They brought it to Jesus, threw their cloaks on the colt and put Jesus on it. As he went along, people spread their cloaks on the road. When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!” “I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.””

I really like this last line. Because obviously that people of the crowd are praising him as we are His creation and meant to give praise. But Jesus is here saying that even if the people were quiet, the stones (and I interpret this as all of God’s creation) would cry out! I just think that’s powerful, that all things are meant to praise the Lord!

(v. 41-44) “As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it and said, “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes. The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side. They will dash you to the ground, you and the children within your walls. They will not leave one stone on another, because you did not recognize the time of God’s coming to you.””

he wept :( I appreciate these moments because it humanizes Jesus. He was human, he had emotions, he cried, he did all things that we do as well and we’re so lucky to have the Lord know what it’s like to be us. He loved the perfect life and our aim should be to imitate him in every way.

(v. 47-48) “Every day he was teaching at the temple. But the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the leaders among the people were trying to kill him. Yet they could not find any way to do it, because all the people hung on his words.”

It’s just really intense when you think about it. They wanted to kill him. They were set on that. Every really early on and it’s quite disturbing really for them to pursue it so much to the point that they finally made it happen. And what a gruesome death it was :(

[prestonmonterey]

TLT UPDATE!! BEFORE I GO TO BED

(gods im so tired...)

@vincentaureliuslin @tatsumisheep3

no photos today so heres my cat :P

OPENING NIGHT!!! it went super well!!!!! (i think)

it was PA night so the understudys were percy and annabeth and they killed it!!!!!! :DDDD

also my director gave me a compliment today so im in a good mood (it was somethin along the lines of "you finally did a good job as cerberus" but ill take what i can get...) (i still have beef with him but.. whatever....)

its crazy how fast this show is going and that itll all be over after sunday,, but also i am SO tired bc we literally spend more time at school than at home this week :(

also getting a lotta acne bc im not used to wearing this much make up every day :P

but hey at least ill get to rest a teeny bit on the weekend (just in the morning TwT bc we have matinees)

also my parents and some of my friends are comin tomorrow so they BETTER FUCKIN BUY ME CANDY (i really really really want candygrams... one of the stage managers got like 4 boxes of candy i am so jealous...)

also also also we did the legacy robe last night before preview night and my friend (and mother /ij) got it :DDDD very happy for her

um um um i felt like i had more to say but idk this is already a lot and i cant remember things im kinda tired :P

oh i finally got my camper necklace!!! the beads were missing for like a week but they were just on the table in the costuming room... anyway my friend made it for me during tech class bc shes so so sooo sweet <3 (while i was in math trying to force my friend to study... *stares at neeks* /aff) i got four beads that kinda almost make the ace flag!! (black for tech, silver for the fall play, light blue for this show, and purple for my grade)

idk if i explained it before but all of our necklaces represent how much theater we've done,,, bc its kinda like how long we've been at camp. theres a bead for each grade based on our class colors, and the tlt bead, so everyone gets at least 2. theres also beads for each of the past musicals and plays at school, and a black bead if youve done tech, and a white bead if youve done leadership :D some of the seniors have like most of their necklace filled because of how many shows theyve done

heres another cat pic to keep you engaged and reading this /hj

also also also many many thanks to my wonderful actor and tech friends i would not survive without them (especially thanks to tech bc they have to put up with us actors... /hj) its poseidon's actors first show i think and they have a LOT of quick changes so their section of the rack is,,, kind of a mess. also the lamp for the oracle scene has broken multiple times i think already... and i already left my make up bag out yesterday and my watch in the cubbies today TwT we are a hot mess

my graphic design teacher was acting today :D (the farmer in drive is a teacher role, and they switch out every night) and i love him being so absolutely perplexed by the energy circle before show :333

also i remembered to put setting powder on for the first time,,, and... i forgot that my mom is SO much paler than me TwT (i was very washed out...) so ill probably stick to spray for the rest of the week :P

sorry i really am rambling tonight...

ok i will probably hopefully do at least one more update after strike on sunday!! (depending on how tired i am,, i might just curl up on the floor and sleep after the sunday show actually...) unless something goes horribly wrong,,, then ill probably post about it too

good night!! i need to collapse in bed and try to save up enough energy for tomorrows show :3

have a wonderful day/night and remember to hydrate! (or you'll die straight...)

[omelette-archives]

TOMATHY'S ORIGINAL FILES [FAMILY TREE]

BIRTH ORDER: Rosemary, Timothy/Tomathy [twins], Cameron, Nathan, Austin

FROM LEFT TO RIGHT: Tomathy, Timothy, Cameron

COMMENTARY:

RAZZ: Can we talk about Tim [TIMOTHY] 'cause oh my god his hair is like almost the opposite of Tom [TOMATHY] and it’s so jarring to see him with actual glasses (Cameron I won’t acknowledge you) Citrusy: (THE CAMERON DISACKNOWLEDGEMENT IS SENDING MEEEE) Tim slicks it down with gel and actually brushes it 🤞🤞🤞 From a narrative standpoint he was doing a lot more studying and academic work and needs glasses because he’s farsighted but from a design standpoint I thought he just looked a bit too similar to Tomathy and it was throwing me off💀

Citrusy: What careers do you think the other siblings do🙏

(I’m thinking Nathan= personal trainer, Austin=locksmith, Rosemary=hairdresser), Austin = either locksmith or road worker; suggestion: HPE teacher for Nathan

COMMENTARY:

Despite my evident dislike for a reason, I do not like Austin whatsoever and I can't explain it😭😭😭😭

Citrusy: You dislike Nathan for who he does, and you dislike Austin for who he is

Question: I have to know, what would happen if Timothy and Tomathy were put into the same room?

Answer: They would not like it. They'd roll their eyes at each other and just not talk to each other. It really depends on the situation like if they're trapped in the same room and they need to rely on each other but honestly I think it would get so bad to the point where Tomathy tries to grab Timothy's neck and not strangle him but he's just so annoying and Cameron [alt: C*m*r*n, Cameron (derogatory)] has to pull him back.

Bonus: Jerard notices a couple of Tomathy lookalikes and being like ???

Answer: The possibility for hijinks to ensure is too large and entertaining. Imagine Tomathy just driving by a roadworks and seeing Tomathy with long hair and a beard and nearly crashing his car. Imagine he eventually goes to get a hair cut and he is distracted trying to figure out why the hairdresser is so recognisable. Or why the guy that jogs by his window every morning reminds him of a buff Tomathy. Imagine he sees Timothy in public and calls him Tomathy and the absolute SCOWL and GLARE that he gets from the doctor is enough to send him home and lock himself in his bedroom for the rest of the day. it’s so funny😭

TIMOTHY LORE

enjoys greek yoghurt

watches movies at the cinema

won a spelling bee in grade 5

learnt how to skate but never competed in anything

wrote a song once

likes beetles

used to own a blue truck

binds his own journals

LOVES mashed potatoes

has an INCREDIBLE obsession with sharks but keeps it secret

doesn't like spaghetti but loves pasta

finds 1000 piece puzzles stimulating

His personality is almost very... casual? He's not outgoing but he's polite, he can oftentimes be almost worried all the time. He's almost similar to Tomathy but rather than being almost bubbly (in a sense) he can't be emotionally moved? He doesn't find things that move other people to evoke the same feelings in him, rather he just can't seem to feel the same or as intensely as other people. He's definitely an outdoorsy person.

[he IS a Greek yoghurt enjoyer razz you never miss with these obscure and random details.]