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tkwrites · 7 months ago

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Good For You - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @gabelandeskog

Title: Good For You

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc)

Summary: Quinn and Sarah have a discussion about and decide to stop using condoms before putting that decision into practice. A question we’ve all been waiting for is finally asked.

Warnings: smut (18+ only), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), cum play (sort of?), if I missed anything, let me know!

Word count: 4,900

Comments: I live!

After two heavy snapshots, steeped in feelings, I’m back with some good old fashioned smut (with lots of plot, of course, because I am who I am). Thanks to the many Nonnies who requested this. I’d already started writing it when you sent this, but your asks challenged me to combine both your requests. I hope you enjoy, and it lives up to your expectations! If you did enjoy, please let me know by commenting, sending in an ask or reblogging! I love reading your comments, asks and suggestions!

Anonymous asked: hey! Another request idea… I was rereading the fic about Sarah being overwhelmed before meeting Quinn’s parents and when they’re talking about the WAG jackets, sarah mentions that they aren’t official yet. Can we get fic of Quinn officially asking Sarah to be his gf? Seriously love readying your stuff!

Anonymous asked: I love how much you actually show the communication between Quinn and Sarah, it makes it so much more real and overall I just love your writing ❤️❤️ I noticed how as their relationship progresses, they decide not to use condoms. Will we get to see this conversation in the future? I'd also love to see when they officially decide to be together with labels and all xxx

Good For You

A Quinn & Sarah snapshot

“Hey, Quinn?” Sarah called, walking up the stairs.

“Yeah?”

She found him on the suede couch, reading a book.

Sitting at his feet, she smiled when he moved them into her lap. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Okay,” he put the marker in his book and rested it on his chest.

Color flooded into her cheeks.

“What?” he asked, unable to hold in a nervous laugh at her sudden blush.

“I just,” she paused to lick her lips, trying to screw up her courage. “I wanted to let you know I had an IUD put in last month.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s the most effective form of birth control. It’s pretty much as effective as celibacy.”

He paused, unsure where this conversation was going. When she didn't elaborate, he asked, “So what did you want to talk about? Just that you have it?”

“Well that and —” she knotted her fingers together, “since it’s super effective, and we’re only seeing each other and have been for a while, I wondered if maybe you wanted to…” she trailed off.

Quinn got the feeling he was supposed to know what she was talking about, but he was clueless. “If I wanted to, what?”

Chewing on her lip, she guessed it was time to just spit it out, “I wondered if we both get STI tested, and only if you want to, we could try not using condoms all the time.”

He felt his eyes go wide. “What?”

“I mean, only if you want to. If you feel more comfortable with condoms, that’s totally fine.”

“Are you joking?” he asked, scrambling to sit up. The book slipped off him and fell to the wood floor with a sharp slap. “Of course I want to. Did you think I was going to turn down that offer?”

“I don’t know.”

He moved to kneel, crowding into her space. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, feel it in his fingertips. “Can we try now?”

A laugh split her mouth into a pretty smile, but she put a hand to his chest to stop him from leaning closer.

“We need to get STI tested first.”

“I’m clean,” he said.

“As far as I know, I am too, but I would feel better if we both got tested, knowing neither of us has slept with someone else in quite a while.”

He looked crestfallen.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” she hastened to add, “I’ve just heard horror stories of girls whose boyfriends didn’t know they were carrying something. Most STIs affect women, you know, and men just pass them along.”

His eyes went wide, “really?”

“Just another joy of being a woman.”

“Thats bullshit.”

“Yep,” she agreed, popping the last letter. “So It’s not that I don’t believe you, but I really need that proof for my own peace of mind before I’d feel comfortable.”

“Yeah,” Quinn agreed, “of course. I’ll talk to Roman about it tomorrow.”

“I’ll message my doctor,” she said with a shy smile, pulling out her phone.

Logically, Quinn knew they needed to talk about this before anything could happen, but the thought that he might get to fuck her bare buzzed in the back of his mind so intensely, he wished she had waited until it was an actual possibility, even if that was impossible.

When he asked Roman about it between breakfast and video the next day, the trainer immediately went into crisis mode, “what kind of symptoms are you having?”

“None. I'm just — I want to be safe.”

He was going to tell him that the girl he was seeing — he was getting so sick of using that phrase — asked him to, but that seemed like it was putting all the blame on Sarah. While she did ask for it, he'd just never considered it something he should do. Now that he knew, he was more than happy to do it.

“You're sure? You can tell me, you know.”

“I know. No symptoms. I’m just making sure.”

Roman looked at him appraisingly. “Are you dating someone new?”

Quinn was a bit surprised he hadn't heard about it. It seemed to him it was the only thing the guys chirped him about lately.

“Yeah.”

“Good for you,” he said approvingly. “Glad to know you're being safe.”

Quinn felt a chagrinned smile spread over his face.

“Well, I’m glad to know your girlfriend is safe at least,” Roman said with a laugh.

How was it so easy for him to whip that word around?

“Go to Doctor Jamison's after practice. I'll put in an order for you. They'll just need a blood sample.”

The results took two days. By that time he was on the road. Thankfully, not for too long. Only one game.

He sent her a screenshot of the panel results. All negative, mercifully. He didn't expect to be positive, but he hadn't checked while he was with or after he broke up with June.

She sent back a screenshot of her own test panel, also all negative.

It was suddenly very real. The idea of coming home to Sarah was even more enticing than usual.

He’d fucked girls bare before, he knew the sensations that came along with it, but he’d never fucked Sarah bare before. He’d tried, and she’d insisted on using condoms. He wasn’t going to make her uncomfortable, and he wasn’t going to give up sleeping with her. If that meant he had to wear a condom, he’d do it.

Now that the possibility of making love to her without one was on the horizon, he couldn’t get it out of his mind.

Looks like we'll be coming in about 2, he texted when they got to the arena. They'd fly home right after the game versus Calgary. Want to just stay at my place?

Wish I could, she wrote back, but I have class tomorrow at 8. I'll come to yours as soon as I'm done with work, though.

“What's wrong, Q?” Brock asked, noticing his crestfallen expression.

“Nothing,” he said, shoving his phone into his bag. “Sarah's just got class tomorrow morning so I won't see her until tomorrow night.”

“Man, she's got you whipped.”

Quinn rolled his eyes, playing off the comment. If he protested, he knew they would just chirp him about it more, and there was no way he was going to explain his excitement to Brock.

When the next evening finally rolled around, Quinn found himself pacing, a nervous excitement buzzing through his whole body. He’d never felt like this before. As if anticipation had been winding him up for 4 days straight.

He’d tried his best to burn off as much energy as possible on a run that morning, but that felt like years ago now. Adrenaline was coursing through him by the gallon.

He heard the elevator ding, and his stomach leapt.

Before Sarah could scan in, the door flung open. Quinn was standing there, cheeks already flushed.

She couldn’t help it, she gigged.

“What?”

“You’re just really cute,” she said.

Pulling her into the apartment, he resisted the urge to pull her upstairs straight away. Cool. He needed to be cool.

“Cute in a good way, right?”

“Yes,” she assured, leaning up to kiss him. “In a very good way.”

All of a sudden, the enormity of the situation crashed on him. He and Sarah had had sex 73 times, but this felt totally new. A frantic awkwardness took hold of his mind. How was he supposed to start this? Just like every other time? Every other time, it happened so naturally.

“Hey,” she said, grasping his wrist, trying to stop the overthinking she could practically see scrolling across his face.

He blinked a few times and met her eyes. “Sorry. I’m so… I mean, I’ve never anticipated something like this for so long.” The words were falling out of his mouth before he really had a chance to think through them.

“Yeah, I get that,” she said. “I’m not sure I have either.”

“I don’t want to fuck it up,” he admitted.

A soft smile took over her face. “Quinn, it’s me. We've already had great sex. This is just another step.”

Nodding, he took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it out. Excitement reared in his stomach again, waging battle with his nerves.

“I do think we should talk about it, though.”

“Didn’t we already talk about it?”

“I mean, I think we should talk about what we want.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, what we're looking for.” She moved to sit on the living room couch, pulling him down with her. “I want to make sure we talk about it before we're in the heat of the moment so neither of us do something the other isn’t comfortable with.”

Quinn had never been with someone who communicated as much as Sarah. “It’s a product of the dead parents,” she’d told him when he asked her about it once, “life’s too short to not have the conversation.”

He sat next to her, “okay, so what do you want?”

“I want to feel you fuck me bare.”

The frank way she said it made his whole body ring.

“And I want to feel you come inside me.” It felt dangerous and exciting to say it out loud, but she couldn't get it out of her mind.

“Really?” Quinn asked, voice lilted with surprise.

“Yeah. I've been dreaming about it,” she admitted. For the past few weeks, it seemed every time she would dream of him, the feeling of him filling her was so vivid that when she woke, her underwear would be soaked, almost as if she'd orgasmed in her sleep. “I'm guessing that's something you want, too?”

He nodded.

“Is there anything else you want?”

He opened his mouth, then paused.

She nodded, encouraging him.

“I mean, there is something but it’s not a huge deal.” He was pretty certain she would at least consider it, but history had him trying to not get his hopes up.

“Tell me,” she urged, resting her hand on his knee. “I want to do what you want, too.”

“I want to come on you,” he admitted, the words coming out all in a rush.

Eyes widening, Sarah couldn’t quite stifle the laugh that squeaked from her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she hurriedly back pedaled, seeing the hurt on his face, “I’m not laughing at you, it’s just — with the look on your face, I was bracing myself for something super kinky.”

“June hated it,” he said quietly. “She didn’t like cum at all.”

“So did you just wear condoms all the time?”

“No. She didn’t like those either.”

Her eyebrows furrowed together, an incredulous expression on her face. “You can’t have it both ways.”

Something inside him unknotted.

“I mean, did she insist you come in a tissue every time or something?”

“Most of the time,” he amended, “sometimes I could come in her, but never on her.”

June reminded Sarah so much of the mean girls she’d known throughout her life: content to demand things of others, knowing their social currency was enough to purchase obedience to all of those ridiculous rules. Part of her wondered if June even disliked cum, or if she was just trying to keep Quinn under her thumb.

“Well I don’t have a problem with either. I mean, I don’t really love a facial, but other places are fine.” She paused for a moment, thinking about how often Quinn asked her questions, willing to learn, so he could please her better, “and, I mean, if you’re really invested in coming on my face, we can do it. I just don’t want it all the time.”

He felt his eyelids grow heavy and he swallowed thickly. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah. A relationship is a two way street. You deserve to get the things you want, too. ”

The relieved smile he gave her in response made her want to slap June across the face. Quinn was so, so good — attentive and genuine and so willing to learn and please. She wanted to do the same for him. Besides, it wasn’t like Sarah had some kink for cum, at least she didn’t think she did, but feeling a partners pleasure in such a tangible way, always gave her a deep sense of satisfaction.

“Is there anything else you want?” he asked.

“No. You?”

He shook his head.

“Alright,” she said, “I think we should go upstairs.”

Quinn stopped trying to play it cool. He was too excited to play it cool. He grabbed her hand and raced up the stairs, glad that she laughed as she ran along with him.

She threw open the door to his room. Sarah loved this room. It was in the corner of the building, and huge windows looked over the beautiful Vancouver skyline. The sun was setting, turning the harbor and city windows yellow and pink, casting their colors on the walls and spinning everything else in the room into gold.

Before she could get too caught in the view, he was spinning her around, catching her mouth in a kiss that sucked the breath right out of her.

Clothing was discarded, and they tumbled into his bed.

They surged together and Sarah moaned. It was already so much better.

Somehow, there was less pressure. He didn't have to think about pulling away to make sure they were safe. He could stay focused on her without any other worries. Why had he been so nervous? This felt, like she said, like the natural next step.

When he pulled back to line himself up, Sarah pressed her hand to his pelvis stopping the movement.

“What?” he asked, worried he'd hurt her.

“We need lube,” she said. “Or more foreplay. The condoms you have have lube on them, so they slide easier. Without that I'm worried…” she trailed off.

He hadn't even thought about it. “Which do you want?”

“I mean, I'm always game for more foreplay.”

Grinning, he leaned down to kiss her, rolling his hips against hers again. As their tongues tangled, she groaned into his mouth.

“Tell me when you're ready,” he whispered in her ear before tracing his lips over her jaw and down her neck. He licked and kissed, while one of his hands fondled her breasts, working her up to those hitched little breaths and small moans he loved so much.

“Quinn,” she breathed, a few moments later, as her temperature spiked. He hadn’t shaved in a while, and his beard rasped against her skin. She’d never liked facial hair before him, but somehow, with Quinn, it was more arousing than painful. Probably because of what else he was doing. God, he was good with his mouth.

Unbidden, but not unwelcome or unfamiliar, images crashed into her mind — Quinns head buried between her thighs, his magic tongue working her to a climax she knew would be mind melting. The fantasies made her desperate for him.

“I need you,” she gasped, feeling herself grow slick against the muscular ridge of his thigh he had wedged between her legs.

“I’m right here.”

“I need you inside me.”

Her admission made Quinn feel drunk with desire. Out of his mind with it. He pulled back and her hand covered his to help him line up.

Pressing into her was better than he’d imagined.

She was so hot and wet and, “shit, you’re so tight,” he ground out, the words scraping over a moan.

Now that the barrier was gone, the time spent waiting to remove it was well worth it. Her smooth walls hugged him perfectly.

Just to feel the contrast, he withdrew to the tip, pulling a sharp breath through his teeth at the rush of cool air before he drove back into her warmth. His jaw dropped and he made some unintelligible sound.

Slick and slippery, his thrusts moved with her seamlessly as she rose to meet him again and again and again.

“So good,” she breathed, reveling in the feel of him - every vein and ridge that had been smoothed by the latex covering before felt so prominent now and, “Quinn, you feel so good.”

The praise went straight to his head.

“You feel so —” he broke off with a growl. “Shit, you feel so amazing, Sarah. I — I —” He babbled, nearly blurting that he loved her. He bit that back. This wasn’t the time for that. He wanted that to be special, not something spluttered in a lust-drunk moment. “I don't know how long I can last,” he admitted instead.

God, he was something else. Flushed and flustered, eyes half hooded, body tight with exertion and control, he looked delicious. The fact that he wanted her this much made her chest feel full to bursting.

A moan escaped her mouth as pleasure washed over her face. Her eyelashes fluttered.

Just like that, he was done for. Cooked.

“I can't… I can't,” he stammered. At least he lasted longer than the embarrassing two strokes from their first time.

“Then don't,” she panted, rocking her hips into his. Her own climax building as the thought of him finally coming inside her brought her sensitivity to a peak.

Groaning her name, he let his body take over, rhythm turning sloppy.

As she watched, his eyes fluttered closed and with a final, powerful thrust, he sheathed himself to the hilt and let go.

Feeling the very tangible result of his pleasure coat her walls made Sarah’s breath hitch. It only took a few more rocks of her hips before her body bowed, chest pressing flush to his as she pulsed around him, pleasure poured into her body.

His mouth was open against her neck as he let out a sort of pained grunt.

Coming down, she melted into the soft mattress.

His body followed hers, his weight pressing into her. He knew it was probably too heavy, but he couldn’t possibly hold himself up right now.

Quinns gasping breaths were crashing into her neck. Even though it didn’t make it any easier to catch her breath, she loved the solid weight of him on top of her.

Strength slowly returned to him and they both winced a little as he eased out.

Flopping onto his back next to her, he groped for her hand. “Oh my god,” he breathed, once he had control of his voice. “That was incredible.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, pulling some breaths deep into her lungs.

After a few more moments of basking in the afterglow, she moved to get up. He tugged her back, “where are you going?”

“I need to pee. I'll be right back, I promise.”

He didn't shy away from watching her pad to the bathroom and then back to the bed.

Halfway through their second round, he was determined to feel Sarah come undone around him when he wasn’t so sensitive from his own orgasm. Working his fingers to her clit, he traced gentle patterns over the swollen nub.

A pleasured sigh left her lips. “Oh,” Sarah breathed, “that feels so good, Quinn.”

She had to take a moment to make her mind concentrate on one thing at a time. Anticipation coiled tighter in her belly as she focused on his gentle, deliberate touch, the heat of his body above and inside her, and then, the feel of his cock, which had been so dulled before, it almost felt completely new.

He dipped lower, gathering more of her arousal on his fingers to slip and slide over her bundle of nerves.

He didn’t try to hide or hold back from how good it felt when she fluttered around him. Her name panted from his mouth. Only when he felt himself sliding too close to the edge, did he bite his lip to distract himself.

Seeing Quinn hold on for her, trying to draw out her orgasm before his own, made tenderness swell within her. It mixed with the pleasure in her veins, bringing her closer to the peak. How the hell did June not see him this way?

She gasped his name before admitting, “I’m almost there.”

“What do you need?” he asked, wrenching his eyes open to look into her face.

“Keep going, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

He shook his head. Never. He would never stop trying to please her like this and any other way he could.

The steady rhythm he restrained himself into did its job, and she tipped over the edge.

The coil in her belly finally shattering, her body seized up as pleasure fractured through her like lightning. His name flew from her mouth in a hoarse cry.

Jaw falling open, he grunted his pleasure as her core sucked him deeper with every rhythmic pulse. God, she felt even more incredible. Sarah was already the best he’d ever had, and now, the sex had just gotten better. How was that possible?

Gripping the sheets, he held on for her, moaning and muttering about how good she felt coming around him.

Sarah was mesmerized by him. His eyes were shut now, the skin around them taut, but his jaw was lax, nearly hanging open. His arms flexed, mountains and valleys of muscle on either side of her, straining with the effort of holding himself up.

Electricity was still buzzing faintly through her veins, even as her high ebbed away. She couldn’t wait any longer to fulfill his fantasy.

“Come on me, Quinn.”

Breath lodged in his throat and his eyes flew open, frantically searching her face. “You're sure?”

“Yes. I want you to. Come on me,” she repeated, running her fingers up her chest as an example.

In a rush of want, he planked above her, quickly tugging on his cock, slick with her arousal, until he exploded, painting a sticky white line up her chest.

She seemed to preen under the assault, arching her back and moaning as if it was something she’d been waiting her whole life for. It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned as his limbs turned to jelly.

He managed to lower himself on top of her without dropping, feeling his cum slick between their skin.

“Holy shit, that was so hot,” he panted against her mouth.

In a few minutes time, Sarah knew she'd be squirming for a shower, but for now, she felt extremely gratified with fulfilling this fantasy for him. She smiled, replaying the look of shocked elation on his face when she requested it.

Tracing her fingers up the bumps of his spine, she took in a deep breath and let it sigh out of her lungs, reveling in the weight of his body on hers.

Finally catching his breath, he lifted his head, arching an eyebrow. “Where did all of this come from?”

“All what?”

He traced a finger through the valley of her breasts, gathering some of his cum. “This,” he said, “your little exhibitionist streak when I came on you.”

“Oh,” she somehow blushed despite her flushed skin. “I wanted to be good for you. You’re so good to me all the time, I want you to feel that, too.”

That simple statement, her admittance that she did it for him, made his head spin. How could he have ever thought what he had with June was love? He saw now how a love that met you half way blew her idea of love, which he knew now was more about control, out of the water.

A few minutes later, Sarah’s sweaty, post-sex skin began to itch. “Shower?” she asked.

“Snacks,” Quinn countered, his head still resting on the front of her shoulder.

A laugh shook her chest, “shower then snacks.”

He supposed it could work.

A short while later, they were in the kitchen, and Quinn was having an argument with himself.

They needed to have a conversation, but it was terrible timing. He didn’t want her to think he was only bringing it up because of what happened that night. At the same time, he'd been thinking about it since before his parents' visit, when she'd brought up the WAG jackets. Now that his mom and dad had met her and approved, the only thing holding him back was his brother's approval. He wasn't sure he wanted to wait that long.

He was about to leave again, and the family skate was coming up after he got back. He wanted her to come, but he was so tired of introducing her as the girl he was seeing. Sarah was more than that, now. It didn’t fit anymore, and it was too damn long to keep saying.

If they didn’t talk about it now, he worried there wouldn’t be enough time.

He glanced at her. She was wearing a shirt with a funny little cartoon of a fork and a spoon that said, ‘Spooning leads to forking’ along with a pair of matching shorts. Her thighs were bare and lovely in the dim light as she sat on the counter, eating a piece of cheese she’d stolen from the sandwich he was building for them to split.

He put the top piece of bread on and decided he should just blurt it out. He didn’t think there would be a better way. The longer he waited, the harder it would be to bring up.

“What do you think about being my girlfriend?” he said, looking up.

Her hand paused on the way to her mouth, the cheese missing an almost cartoon-like bite — a little scalloped half moon cut into one corner.

“Am —” Sarah paused, wondering if this was some kind of a trick question. “Am I not?”

“No,” he said before his brain caught up with him. “No, you are, but I mean, like, formally?”

Her head tilted to one side, “Of course. I’ve been thinking of you as my boyfriend for a few weeks now. Pretty much since you met Trav and the kids.”

A sigh breathed through him.

“Did you think I was gonna say no?”

“I don’t…I mean, I didn’t want you to think I was only bringing it up because of the unprotected sex thing.”

“That is pretty terrible timing on your part,” she conceded, laughing. “It’s a good thing I…” she trailed off, stopping herself from continuing out loud. Why couldn’t she just come out and say it? So what if she was in her ridiculous pajamas in his kitchen? She’d brought them with her expressly because she thought they would make him laugh, and she’d been right. The delighted surprise that had escaped his mouth when he’d seen them was something she knew she’d treasure for a long time.

“A good thing you?” he repeated, hope ballooning in his chest.

“It’s a good think I know you’re not just in it for the sex,” she said, lamely.

Quinn’s expression went from hopeful to distraught right before her eyes. “How could you think that?” he asked, his voice embarrassingly earnest.

“Quinn, I —”

He cut her off, “I like so many things about you, Sarah. You’re smart and funny and you’re kind to everyone you meet, and you’re so dedicated to your work.” He was rambling now, but if she thought he was in this just for the sex? He would die of shame.

“I like that you’ve never treated me like anything else but Quinn, and you’re always willing to meet me half way,” he said, his voice taking on an almost frantic quality as he tried to convey what she meant to him. “And I —”

“Quinn.”

The way she said his name made him stop short.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her hand coming up to gently cup his jaw. “I was teasing. I know you’re not just in it for the sex. Someone who only wanted sex wouldn’t have waited four weeks to have it.”

She had a valid point.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend, Quinn.”

Leaning in to kiss her, he felt as if someone had struck a match, setting his heart ablaze.

Settling into bed, Quinn remembered he hadn’t told her yet.

“Hey, my family’s coming in for the finals. They’ll be here on the 20th.”

“Oh,” she said, obvious disappointment on her face.

“Is that not…okay?”

Feeling her cheeks blaze, Sarah realized she hadn’t shared that expectation with him yet. “It’s just…my last final is that day and I’ve kind of been looking forward to you fucking me silly as a reward for finishing.”

His eyes went huge, “oh.”

“It's one of the ideas that's kept me going, honestly.”

“I could still do that,” he said, the words rushing out of his mouth.

“With your family in the house? I don't think so.”

“At yours then.”

“With my roommates there?”

He bit his lip. “We could get a hotel?”

“Because that's not weird when you have people, let alone family, staying at your house.”

“I’ll tell them to come a day later,” he offered.

“Would they buy that without an explanation?”

“Would I have to give them one?”

“I don't know. Would you? My family would want to know. You’ll have to make something up.”

“You don’t want me to tell them they can’t come on the 20th because my girlfriend finally finished her classes and wants to be fucked all night?” he teased.

Giggling, she smacked his shoulder lightly, “I think I might die if your mom knew that about me,” she admitted, part of her mind still caught on the open way he used the girlfriend title.

He laughed. “I’ll just tell them we have a late team meeting, or something so it would be better for them to come in on 21st. It’ll be fine.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

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#quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #qh43 #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes fanfic #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey romance #hockey fanfiction

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valle-de-sombra-de-muerte · 3 months ago

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Homestuck Reread: Act 4, Part 1/4 (p. 1358-1522)

Read the previous post here.

After a brief diversion with the Midnight Crew and Felt, it's time to go back to the story proper.

Oh fucking yuck it's that other walkaround flash that uses the story sprites. This one has jank ass combat mechanics in addition to having the same clunky controls as the one in Act 2. Just like that one, this one is also a waste of time. There's no point traversing this and its big ass map.

Wait, is this a Shoop da Whoop reference? God I feel old.

And finally we see Jade's "patron black celebrity": Charles Dutton. Look, I have no clue what Hussie means by any of this. It's just a pattern that I've noticed and nobody else has talked about it before.

Unlike the other kids, Jade always has a somewhat repulsed look on her face whenever she sees her black celebrity. I think she might just be racist, which would explain why she's so xenophobic toward the trolls.

Okay, okay, I'm just joking. Look, Jade is in desperate need of some character traits. At this point, even a negative one would be preferable to nothing at all. Anything to give her modicum of depth.

I wonder what kinds of conversations Vriska or Gamzee would have with Jade. These are things we will never know!

Vriska in particular should've had some meaningful interactions with Jade considering she's the one responsible for her narcolepsy. I'm dumbfounded we never got to see her act more outwardly malicious and cruel toward Jade, or even take a more active role in fucking with her beyond simply putting her to sleep. Vriska isn't exactly known for her subtlety, after all. If she really wanted to put her name on the kids' session and be responsible for all the key events in it, she should've went whole hog.

Perhaps if Hussie had actually planned all this out from the onset, we could've gotten something with more payoff. Recall my earlier post when I said Jade had the makings of a twist villain in these early stages of the story? I'd like to alter and expand upon that with this scenario that I would've implemented in Hussie's place.

Picture this: what if the reason Jade is such a shallow character is due to no fault of her own? What if Vriska had been the one manipulating this human like a meat puppet as her means to infiltrate the kids' session? Pushing the kids to play Sburb in the first place? Her reluctance to give away useful information? All of her intents and motives being masked with overbearing cheerfulness? The fact that she needs "reminders" to keep track of her litany of superficial interests? All Vriska, baby. She has hijacked this kid's brain and is using her as a vehicle to drive the plot forward.

This is back from Act 3, but let's look at how Jade initially reacts to each of her friends and then filter this through Vriska's perspective. John's utter incompetence and Dave's crush on Jade would make them useful idiots in Vriska's scheme. So naturally she reacts positively to both of them.

But she perceives Rose with a single, terse sentence. Rose is the only one who is actively curious about Jade's knowledge of things she shouldn't reasonably know about. This makes her a threat. Vriska would have to put a lot of distance between them in order to keep Rose from uncovering the truth.

And then there are the other trolls. Unbeknownst to them, their efforts to stop Jade would've actually been an internal struggle against one of their own. Vriska would shut them out entirely, not wanting to risk getting them involved with this. All the while, the "real" Jade never gets a chance to express herself because she has been constantly suppressed by an outside agent. Her shallowness would be by design, rather than a consequence of poor writing.

... But I think I'm getting carried away with this tangent. At this point I'm talking about an entirely different comic when this is supposed to be focused on Homestuck. Let's just move on.

So Jade knew about Sburb the whole time, okay. I don't know why it was presented like she didn't at first, but fine whatever. She still continues to be smarmy and coy while John continues to have rocks for brains. Every conversation between these two gives me new insights to the amount of bullshit I'm willing to endure to finish this comic.

I love this line from Dave. Can I get a so true oomfie?

Jade fumbles the SBaHJ reference when someone like Rose could probably recite the entirety of SBaHJ verbatim. In fact, if Rose had fudged up a quote like that, Dave would've shown her no mercy. He holds Jade's hand through it, though, because he's a dumb teenage boy thinking with his dick.

"i got served like a dude on butler island" is a great line. Also, Jade is dismissing Dave getting beat up by Bro as "drama" which, if we're meant to take Dave's domestic situation as legitimate abuse and not a joke, is pretty fucked up.

Dave repeating the whole meteor bit is shut down swiftly because Jade is incapable of keeping up with his patter. Not that I wanted the joke to be repeated anyway, but it's a telling example of how their dynamic works.

Even though Jade and John pesterlogs might be the worst combination out there, Jade and Dave conversations are also pretty damn bad. Dave is normally an entertaining character, but he's squandered in these instances. Jade offers no fun chemistry with him in the same way Rose, or even John sometimes, does. Instead of bouncing his jokes and sarcasm back at him, her obliviousness and naivete causes them to fall flat. She's less a springboard and more of a foam mattress (or smuppet ass, to use a more appropriate metaphor).

And since Dave has a crush on her and wants to appease, he rolls with it and moves along to the next subject without comment. It's like a painfully embarrassing comedy routine where one partner is letting the other flounder on stage.

The trolls act as if certain behaviors like laughing and sarcasm are exclusive to humans, despite us later seeing that such things are normal in their society. It's such a silly bit and I do like it a lot.

Karkat's trolling scheme really is the dumbest plan ever. Also some unfortunate foreshadowing for when he does eventually make shitty diagrams later on.

We needed more moments with the Exiles hanging out and getting to know each other, instead of being pawns to fulfill stupid plot contrivances. It'd make this side-plot infinitely more enjoyable to read.

Note how it's nighttime here when the previous panels with the Exiles were all during the day. This means they must have spent several off-screen hours together by this point. What were they talking about to reach a point where they're all chill with each other? Eh, Hussie deems it unimportant, so we move on!

This is actually a funny moment where Dave allows himself to be a bit of a jerk. I guess even his patience with Jade is wearing thin at this point.

Oh? Rose sounds a little jealous it seems. Dave and Jade get to have a relatively stress-free time playing server and client together. But Rose didn't get to have any of that quality time with Dave because he didn't install his disc until it reached a point where they had only seconds to save her life.

I'm once again thinking about how nice it would've been if Dave had connected to Rose earlier and we could've gotten a lot of banter between them as they navigated the game. Instead we get a lot of toothless slop with Dave and Jade. We were robbed.

Oh shit and Dave snipes right back. He has been getting ignored a lot by both Rose and John, so it's easy to see why he's frustrated. He's mad that Rose isn't putting him as her first priority? God, get a room already.

The last time we saw a conversation between John and Dave was 1,108 pages ago, back in Act 2. John has been ignoring Dave's messages since then. I don't buy the friendship these two supposedly share. If anything, it's extremely one-sided on Dave's end.

This series of pages where PM takes control of the console shows us all the key stuff from the walkaround. This makes it even more unnecessary to actually play it.

This love triangle between the Exiles gets no further attention beyond this moment. Personally I'd have solved it by making all three of them form a polycule, but unfortunately I'm not the one writing this story.

You know, I never gave it much thought before, but why is Grandpa Harley suddenly alive? He doesn't have a dreamself or anything. Nobody revived his corpse. He's just inexplicably wandering the Medium now. If this is ever explained later, I don't remember it.

I know this isn't Mom Lalonde saying this but man... I think it would've had more of an impact if she did say it. Rose never gets to see her mother again, so all she's really left with is this sobering moment of insight that, wherever it is Mom sailed off to, she's doing it for her benefit. That perhaps she's not the cold-hearted, drunken shrew Rose thought she was for her whole life and instead, was just a heavily troubled woman trying her best to be a parent. You never truly know the kind of people your parents are until it's too late, I guess.

None of the kids ever get any closure with their guardians and that's a shame. We never get to view things from their perspectives and they're just glorified NPCs. Bro in particular definitely needed some insight into his inscrutable mind, but Mom also continues to fascinate me. This woman is so full of mystique and contradictions, yet all we ever see of her is fragmented shots from Rose's (heavily biased) point of view.

I wonder what exactly Mom thinks is "best for her child," though. Helping her win the game, surely. She had to have been planning for this moment for most of her life, having known about the countdown in the lab. I wonder if she knew the full extent of what Sburb was going to do, where to go once she got there, and how to help the kids win the game.

Anyway, this panel is definitely a top 10 Rose moment. Or perhaps a top 10 general Homestuck moment, since it has to do with both Rose and Mom. I should be keeping track every time I say this line.

It's very cute how AR contributes to WV's model city. "Begrudgingly" oh come on dude, we all know you're loving this.

These imps must be weak as shit if they're getting bodied by a teenage girl with a pair of blunt knitting needles.

These are some awkward steps transitioning back into the main story, but I remember liking Act 4 the most out of these early Acts. It always stuck out in my mind as what "peak Homestuck" really is, so I can only hope things will get better as we move along. I will say that if we're devoting as much time to Dave and Jade fucking around with the Sburb mechanics as we did with John and Rose, we're in trouble.

Read the next post here.

#homestuck #homestuck reread #john egbert #jade harley #vriska serket #dave strider #karkat vantas #rose lalonde #daverose #mom lalonde #grandpa harley #wayward vagabond #aimless renegade #peregrine mendicant #wvpmar

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plaidos · 2 months ago

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i havent done homestuck 2 but your defence of common "pluto is still a planet to me!!" "why didnt rose let jack share with her" esque braindead parrot takes have sold me on why they're wrong. what actual legit criticism of hs2 do YOU have, though? im genuinely curious

i’m actually not totally up to date with HSBC. i was for a little while, i think up to the hiatus (or close) but i’ve been running a homestuck reread workshop in my discord server which has taken up most of my homestucking time. that being said, i do have some thoughts though. for the purpose of this discussion, HS2 will refer to pre-hiatus (with the old team) and HSBC will refer to the comic since James’ team took over.

firstly, this is a lighter criticism, but the pacing of HS2 felt out of whack & i think some of the conversations/character relationship moments shouldve had a longer build up. the Meat storyline particularly felt like it was plodding along even much more stagnantly than the gold ship/asteroid days of HS1; i think a greater focus should’ve been given to the immediate post-Epilogues stakes. i understand that that’s just where the story picks up, a large journey, but i think they should have more things to do than reminisce on their relationships without that tying further in to the wider plot. ironically, the Meat spaceship plot felt too “candy” to be impactful, to borrow the framework of the narrative.

i also think there were some pretty major art issues? i really don’t mind stuff being quick and gritty or simplistic and sketchy — it’s part of what we love about HS1 — but some of the HS2 art felt unfinished in a decidedly bad way. which is a major shame, because actually, when HS2 gets it right it rrrreally gets it right. the immediate full cartoony style we get for like, Jane’s antics in Candy is some of the tastiest homestuck art period.

ah, sorry, i’ve fallen back into what i like, but bear with me here for a moment, i need to praise HSBC too to gear up to some criticisms — i really like some of the stuff HSBC has shifted along since starting back up, including some of the changes. i also laud their commitment to keeping a lot of the really controversial elements of THE/HS2 because i think fan-approval seeking retcons would’ve been a bad move. that being SAID, there *are* a few things they’ve somewhat backpedaled on, and i think they are really weak. particularly, the Kanaya/Rose fight may be tasty, but i think it undermines the contextual reason it was skipped over, which is because the narrative is damaging their ability to challenge stuff that is “out of character”; it’s something John notices even. i don’t mind the conflict eventually coming up, it makes sense, but it felt thrown in there to appease some of the more inane criticisms of the comic. my other thing is that some of the changes they’re making to Vriska are… well, i haven’t read it. so i shall hold my tongue. but i’m really worried they’re making her more palatable & straight-forward in an attempt to make her more likeable or give her an arc that, imo, is antithetical to what is interesting about the character? but… again. i haven’t actually read it all myself, and it’s not all out yet, so it’s hard to say.

i really, really hope that the Beyond Canon team hires some transfeminine writers, however. to my knowledge they currently don’t, and when your main cast includes a depressed egg, a traumatised and violent trans woman, & a sex addict cis woman with a huge dog dick as some of the principle & most iconic characters, it might be time to hire a trans woman to help? keep things? on track???

so yeah. less fan-appeasing retcons & hire some trans women.

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yelenasdog · 2 years ago

Text

tell me you’re that somebody ✧ (trevor zegras x fem reader)

genre: smut with plot

summary: trevor hadn’t expected anything to come from his routine tinder round-up of chicks for the first party of the summer at the lake house. but in all fairness, she wasn’t expecting anything when she’d downloaded the app in the first place. they’re both in over their heads.

words: 4k

warnings: alcohol mention, cheesy situation lol, smut, fingering, handjob, public sex (or foreplay? technically? whatever she gets fingered in a hot tub), cursing, reader and trev meet through tinder, use of pet name (baby)

a/n: @eminems-skittles and i texted abt this like a week ago and i haven’t been able to stop thinking abt this so. here! cassie ur my biggest cheerleader i love u 🤍 also the song mentioned later in the fic is “love me” by lil wayne btw and it lightly inspired the fic. so. do w that what u will. happy reading!

The music was loud at the party, and that combined with the amount of drunk 20 somethings and flashing LED lights coming from inside the house would’ve been enough to make her lose her mind.

Key word: would’ve.

But she didn’t. Not yet, anyway. Because in all the noise and smoke and fucking craziness, she had him. And, despite being in a steamy hot tub, it wasn’t the most romantic situation ever, she’d be the first to admit.

The music blasting sounded like it was some kind of Lil Wayne song from 2013 (actually, was that Drake? No, it’s both of them) and the pair was surrounded by a graveyard of half empty beer bottles and cans from where they resided in the hot tub. (All from the girls who took about four minuscule sips from them to seem cool in front of the famed hockey players. That was only before abandoning them for a Whiteclaw the second they got warm.)

But she didn’t pay much care to the scenery, focusing just on the man in front of her. Or, beneath her, if we’re being technical.

Their relationship was a, shall we say, recent development. As in, when Trevor had rented a lake house with his buddies during the off season, and word of the first party had been spread, he’d taken to his Tinder. He’d been tasked with finding the girls, and even though he’d kind of felt like a pimp, he’d scrolled through anyway, finding chicks near his location, matching and inviting them quickly.

He came across her profile, seeing the bio mentioning she wasn’t expecting much from the app, but that she downloaded it for kicks and giggles. She was probably the hottest he’d seen yet (and would see), and he didn’t hesitate to swipe right. He mentally called dibs on the girl, who’s name was apparently Y/n, and not expecting a match right away, he pocketed his phone. Satisfied with the roster he’d created for the party, he stood up, heading outside where some of the guys were already playing a casual game of pong.

He chuckled to himself at the sight before him, Jamie and Alex half asleep in two of the chairs on the pool deck, Quinn on the same page as he scrolled through his phone. Jack and Cole were the two playing pong, while various other friends, some Trevor knew, some he didn’t, lingered about.

Trevor sat down, yawning. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of tiredness, but failing. Conversation drones on, and he mostly ignores it, zoning out. He was snapped out of his trance by the dinging of his phone, which he quickly retrieved, desperate for anything more interesting than what he was currently subject to.

He wasn’t disappointed at what he saw, the notification that he’d matched with someone bright against his lock screen. He clicked, hoping it was Y/n from earlier. It was, and at this revelation, he immediately opened up a chat, not caring that he probably looked desperate.

“Hi :)” he typed out, pressing send. Basic, he knows, but he figured he’d play it safe. He went back and looked at her profile again, swiping through all of the photos. He reread her bio, seeing that she had only recently moved to the area, loved hockey and a few other sports, and was currently still in school, studying for a doctorate. Fancy.

The photos didn’t quite match what the bio said, in Trevor’s mind. There was one of her in tight leggings and a sports bra posing with what he assumed was her dog, another in the garage of some race team, donned in their colors. Which doesn’t seem too far off, but then he kept scrolling.

A personal favorite (yes, it’s only been 10 minutes, yes, he had a personal favorite) was one of her in a rickety bar. It was taken with flash, and her smile was nearly brighter than said flash. It was dim in the photo aside from purple and blue stage lights, a band in the back in front of a crowd of people. Her hand was in the air, wrapped around a bottle of some sort, her other one slung around the shoulders of a guy wearing a cowboy hat. It was her brother in law, Trevor had learned from the bio.

He scrolled through the various pics multiple times after that, landing on one of her in a skimpy blue bikini, smiling on what appeared to be the bow of a yacht.

It caught the attention of Quinn, who’d been on his way inside. He stopped mid sentence, placing a hand on the back of Trevor’s chair.

“Who the fuck is that?” He questioned, leaning in towards Z’s phone. Trevor looked up at him, rolling his eyes and saying “dude, could you get any closer?” Quinn stepped away, his hand still gripping the edge of the chair.

“My bad. Like I said, who’s that?”

“Who’s who?” Jack asked from where he was still playing pong, curious as to what had piqued his older brother’s interest. Jamie, who’d taken Cole’s spot, turned his head as well, hand dropping from where it was mid air.

“Just an absolute rocket Trevor is trying to keep to himself.” Came the voice of Cole, who’d gone inside to get a water and was now back out, peering over Trevor’s shoulder. Z rolled his eyes again, turning off his phone and setting it on the table, face down.

“Well if she’s a rocket,” Jack started, “then is she coming tonight?”

Trevor shrugged. “We’ll see.” He replied, standing up and stretching. “I’m going to get a coffee. Text me if you want anything, ya fuckin’ idiots.” He added, turning and walking inside.

Up until the moment he was walking through the doors of the Starbucks, his phone was still flooding with orders from various numbers. It was a lot of black coffees and everything bagels, and he wasn’t looking forward to carrying them all to the car.

His woeful thoughts of cream cheese and cold brews were interrupted as he lifted his head, planted in place by what he saw.

“Yeah, I guess I should be thanking you for making me download it, but that’s if it’s actually him. What if it’s some creep, huh? I go to his place thinking it’s fuckin Trevor Zegras and it’s some 60 year old named Barnaby Wilson.” She pauses, listening to whoever was on the other side of the phone. “No, I don’t know what kind of name Barnaby Wilson is, nor do I care about a verification system. I care about becoming a murder victim on a shitty true crime podcast.” Another pause.

Then, just as she’s about to speak, she’s cut off by the barista yelling “Y/n!” far too loud for her liking. “Whatever, I’ll call you back. Yes, I’ll keep you updated! I promise. Okay. Love you, bye.” She rolled her eyes to herself, chuckling as she made the short walk to the counter. She grabbed her order with a “thank you” to the barista, before making her way over to the exit.

The exit where Trevor, like an idiot, was still stupidly standing.

“Hey, dude, you gonna order or what?” Some unenthusiastic teen who manned the register asked, obviously not fazed in the slightest by the NHL superstar in front of him.

“Uh, yeah. Just, looking at the menu.” He turned to where a mini line had formed behind him, apologizing to the older woman who had been standing behind him, waiting. He stepped aside, forcing his legs to carry him over to where she had been about to leave.

“Hey, Y/n!”

She turned, eyes wide as saucers upon hearing her name by someone who wasn’t a barista. When she saw that it was the real Trevor Zegras, not Barnaby Wilson, she just about fainted.

“Trevor? Zegras?” She wanted to facepalm at her reaction, and probably would have if it wasn’t from the bag in one hand and drink in the other.

A cocky smile came across Trevor’s face, starting to feel a little bit like himself again at the recognition, standing a little taller.

“In the flesh.” Okay. Maybe a little bit too himself.

“You get my message?” He asked, and she nodded, a small smile raising the corners of her mouth.

“I did. Haven’t responded yet, though. Wasn’t sure if you were the real deal. Not sure if you were some creep pretending to be Trevor Zegras.”

“Barnaby Wilson.” He added, and she grew red at the realization he heard that conversation. A small laugh left her, as her hand with the bag came up to scratch the back of her neck.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Right.” He added quietly, a smile still cemented onto his face.

“Well”, he started after a moment of quiet. ”I was going to ask you over messages, but since you’re here, I’m having a party later with a couple of buddies. I’d love it if you could make it.”

Her jaw dropped, and she had to play it off as if it was a yawn. Which probably looked stupid the more she thought about it, but who could blame her? In the most typical Wattpad, coffee shop AU meet-cute way possible, she was invited to a party of NHLers, by an NHLer.

She didn’t even give a second thought to her paper that was due in three days, all she needed to do were revisions anyway. She immediately accepted, and after a quick hug initiated by Trevor and plans to exchange numbers and text her the details, they parted.

She got to the car and screamed, before dialing back her best friend who she’d been on the phone with, thanking her endlessly for forcing her to download Tinder.

Trevor, who now was at the back of the line for drinks, texted the group chat to let them know she was definitely coming. Then, he got the notification he had a message on Tinder, seeing it was her responding to his “Hi :)” with a “Hi, not Barnaby.”

That led to where they were now.

When she’d showed up to the party, instructed by Trevor to come wearing a swimsuit, it was like everything stopped.

Much to the dismay of their dates, all of the boys craned their necks to look at the girl who Trevor hadn’t shut up about since that morning, not disappointed in the slightest.

Her denim cutoffs showed off her legs to where they were cut off by a pair of white converse, her white bikini top a slightly lighter shade, not subject to the same daily abuse as the shoes. Trevor had greeted her with a hug, his hand never leaving her back once they parted. He’d made the rounds, introducing her to all his wide eyed friends, before the two of them settled into conversation with Cole about the upcoming Formula 1 season.

Trevor had never given a shit about F1 before. Racing was never really for him. But hearing her ask Cole with such wonder in her voice about what it was like to meet Fernando Alonso, and speak with such conviction about her opinion on the strategy at Ferrari? What they were strategizing, Trevor had no idea, but, fuck, if he didn’t love hearing her talk about it.

The night went on, things got rowdier, and then as they do, they got quieter. She was there for the entirety of it, and at some point, they’d slipped into the hot tub.

It was bubbly and warm, and she’d let out an audible sigh when the water first hit her aching back. The tension from days of sitting hunched up by her laptop as she wrote melted away in the water, and it was divine.

Her and Trevor were joined by Jack and his date for the night. Some brunette named Haleigh. “Like, with a y, but… not… with a y. You know?” She’d added when she introduced herself.

After complaining it was too hot, Haleigh without a Y left the hot tub, going inside to get another Mike’s hard lemonade. Jack sat for a second, his head falling into his hand. He let out a deep, deep sigh of exhaustion, before running the same hand over his face and ruffling it through his hair.

“Jack, come be my pong partner!” She exclaimed, briefly hanging her head out the sliding glass doors, before going back inside.

“Guess that’s my cue.” Jack said, pushing himself up and out of the water. They gave him a sympathetic look, but not that sympathetic, knowing he’d probably be fucking her in give or take about 20 minutes.

It left the two of them mostly alone, in their little bubble at least, only surrounded by a few stragglers. They were either out on the dock, by the bonfire in the backyard, or standing up against the wall, caging in whatever unfortunate girl is the victim of a failed attempt at a fuck, and hasn’t figured out her escape route yet.

But she wasn’t paying any attention to them, and neither was Trevor. His attention was fully on her, where her hand nervously had come up to mess with the charm around her neck. He knew the action itself was fairly innocent, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t let his eyes wander further down.

The way the water droplets were resting upon her slightly burnt skin was downright sinful, some of them still sliding down the expanse of her neck. She looked almost like she did in the picture he liked so much from earlier, all the lights illuminating her in all the best ways. And maybe it was just the alcohol, but Trevor thought she looked angelic.

“Y’know,” he began, his fingertips coming up to play with a strand of her hair, “you’re really fuckin’ pretty.”

She blushed, not that he could tell with all the lights, and looked away, trying to hide the expression that began to tug at her features.

“Thanks. You too.” She tossed back, a breathy laugh leaving both of them. His hand went from the strand of hair to her chin, tilting it up, forcing him to meet her gaze.

“I mean it.”

“Me too.”

It was an immediate response, because she did. She did mean it. He didn’t just look pretty, he looked fucking unreal. But, she didn’t want to say that. Not yet at least. So she settled for pretty.

They held each other’s gazes, and she’s not sure who moved first, but before she knew it, the water around them was rippling. She was suddenly on his lap, his hands on either hip. Her arms were around his neck, and his lips were on hers.

And despite the fact it was fucking amazing, and the fact that his lips were so soft and so perfect, her mind was still running a million miles a minute.

She pulled away, worried that someone would see the two of them. Why was she worried about that? She didn’t know. But she was programmed to worry, it seemed, about anything and everything.

“What’s wrong, Y/n?” Trevor asked, looking up at her with those sweet green eyes.

“Nothing, Trev, it was amazing.”

“Then why’d you stop?” He asked, leaning forward and connecting his lips to her neck, somehow immediately finding her sweet spot. He was relentless, and as she struggled to find words, he hummed against her in question. Her breath hitched at the sensation, and she felt him smile against her, his teeth barely nipping at the sensitive skin. She gasped again, her breath shaky.

“But what if someone sees, Trev?” She managed to get out, hanging her head where Trevor’s shoulder met his neck. He paused his attack on her momentarily, his fingertips smoothing over her thighs, moving up to her waist.

“Look at me, Y/n.” He said, his voice firm but without a hint of animosity or anger. So she lifted her head from her place of hiding, looking him in the eyes.

“Baby, they’re all drunk. They don’t give a fuck. Okay?” He said with a reassuring smile, his question more rhetorical than anything. His hands on her waist started to move her back and forth slightly, feeling where his length was growing through his trunks and her tied bottoms.

Her head fell again, a whine leaving her lips. She continued to move, and Trevor brought his lips up to press a kiss to her temple.

“Just focus on me.” He mumbled, followed by a small “Yeah?” To which she nodded. He smiled again, quickly finding her lips and capturing them with his.

When he asked so nicely, how was she supposed to say no?

It was like the only thing that existed anymore, or had ever existed was Trevor.

He infiltrated every one of her senses, despite the fact they normally would’ve been taken up by the scenery around her. She couldn’t smell the shitty alcohol or the smoke from the bonfire, only the barely lingering scent of the cologne he’d applied before he’d started to welcome guests.

She couldn’t see all of the people around her, just the sight of Trevor, wet curls wildly astray, eyes screwed shut as he helped guide her over his cock.

She couldn’t hear that fucking Lil Wayne (and Drake, and Future, and whoever the fuck else) song, or the boisterous laughter of the hockey players, mixed with that of their dates. (Who’re all laughing just a little too hard.)

She just heard the tiny moans and soft praises that fell from Z’s lips. “You’re doing so good for me, baby.” Was the latest, followed by a groan that she would’ve been worried someone would hear, if not for how enamored she was.

She couldn’t feel the sickly heat in the humid air, or how the water sloshed up against her burnt back, just the slightest bit too hot. She couldn’t feel where the knot keeping her swimsuit tied together was pressing into her skin, or where the grainy feeling of the bench in the hot tub rubbed against her knees. All she could feel was him, his cock pressing against her, his fingertips digging into her, his lips everywhere at once.

And she most definitely couldn’t taste the remnants of the chocolate croissant she’d had for breakfast, or the taste of the tequila shots she’d done with Jamie and Alex. As his tongue lazily danced with her own, it wasn’t any of that that she recognized.

It was the Pink Whitney shot he’d done when the rest were doing tequila, citing that tequila and his stomach didn’t mix. And it was a strange accompaniment, but it was also the leftover tang of the spearmint gum he’d been chewing earlier in the day, stealing a piece from Quinn, who hadn’t offered any to him in the first place. But the strange combination worked, because it was him.

All of it was so much, so Trevor, that it was driving her crazy, but in the best way possible. So when he moved one of his hands from her waist, down to her clothed sex, she almost lost it.

“Trev-“

“You’re good, baby. I’ve got you.”

He ran his thumb over her slit, before sliding his hand down the front of her bottoms, feeling her bare pussy. He wasted no time, easing his two middle fingers into her, stretching her out. The stretch was delicious, and she fully moaned, trying to find any sense that she could to prop herself up entirely on her knees. She palmed him over his pink swim trunks, and he chased the feeling, needily lifting his hips to meet her hand.

She smiled, before mirroring his actions from only a minute ago, her hand easily finding his hardened dick. She ran her thumb over the tip, before she started to jack him off, the water adding resistance as she moved her hand along his length.

But it was all the same to Trevor as he groaned, his hand still pumping in and out of her. His palm perfectly grazed her clit every time he did, and the two of them built up a rhythm as they went. The water around them was moving in waves now, and true to his word from earlier, everyone around them was too drunk to care that they were basically fucking in the hot tub.

As she started to squirm above him, he added a third finger, his glossed over eyes watching in amazement as her mouth went ajar. She clenched down on him, and he could tell she was nearly there. Her hand moved faster in sync with chasing her own peak, Trevor’s doing the same.

“Trev, I’m- fuck! Trevor, I’m close.” She softly cried, her head once again falling back to his shoulder as she rode his hand. He reached his opposite hand forward, groping at her tit, pulling it out of the small triangle of fabric covering it. She moaned at the sensation, and he bit down hard on his lip.

“I know, baby. I’m almost there, too. Shit, you're gonna be good and make me cum, aren’t you? Fuck, yeah. Yeah, you are, baby. Riding my fingers like that. You’re so perfect. So perfect, fuck.

And somehow, they picked up their paces even more, Trevor’s hand slamming into her, while she moved her hand up and down his shaft at a matching speed.

With a cry of his name, and a broken “fuck” from Z, the two came together. Everything went white, and if before everything surrounding her was Trevor, it was like now the two had become one.

She went lax in his arms as they continued to lazily stroke each other, soft kisses pressed to the corner of her mouth by Zeegs.

“You did so good, baby. So fuckin’ sexy riding my hand like that. No idea what you do to me.”

She smiled, tilting her head. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his chest.

“I’ve got a semblance of an idea, I think.” She quipped, and he rolled his eyes. She leaned forward again, pausing briefly to admire his features, before leaning forward and connecting their lips in a sweet kiss.

When they pulled away, she nuzzled against him, all of a sudden aware of the space they were in.

“Y’know, you were right, though.”

“About what?” He asked, leaning down. She smiled as she felt his lips on her head.

“Doesn’t seem like anybody noticed.” She giggled, and he let out a “ha!” shaking his head. She was right, he supposed.

Everyone who was inside had either fallen asleep on the couch, or retired to their rooms, Haleigh without a Y and Jack included. The backyard bunch were still all chatting away, and the guys over by the wall seemed to have accepted their losses, as they now were alone, seemingly fighting off sleep as well.

“Guess not.” He replied, looking down at her. She smiled up at him, tilting her head to give him a kiss. He tried to deepen it, but much like before, she pulled away.

“As lovely as your kisses are, and as worth it that it was, I think we’ve contaminated this hot tub.” She joked, beginning to stand. Trevor frowned, his eyebrows furrowing, and his hand not leaving hers.

She raised her eyebrows, as if to say “I wasn’t done”, and so he beckoned for her to continue.

“But, as I was saying, you’re staying here, right?” He nodded. She smiled, shrugging.

“Then you still have a shower and a bed to contaminate too.”

Trevor grinned, standing up and getting out of the hot tub, pulling her out of the water completely. She shrieked and tugged her knees up, her hand coming to grasp at Z’s forearm. He spun her around twice before setting her down, pulling her to his chest. Trevor Zegras had found his match.

“I like the way you think, lady.”

FIN.

hopefully that was good LOL, btw idk if u’ve ever seen shoresey, but this is reminding me too much of that whole “sanguinet got a squeezer from your sweetie of the side of a party island in wasaga beach, buddy.” LMFAOO iykyk.

anyway hope u enjoyed, rb if u did! love u, go take an electronics break and hydrate and eat some protein. mwah, bye <3

#trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras smut #trevor zegras imagine #nhl x reader #trevor zegras fluff #zegras x reader #trevor zegras fanfic #trevor zegras imagines #trevor zegras x reader smut #trevor zegras x reader fluff #trevor zegras blurb #this isnt rlly a blurb but whatever #frat!trevor zegras x reader #frat boy!trevor x reader #frat boy! Trevor zegras x reader #frat!trevor x reader

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malina-33 · 1 year ago

Text

Femme Like You - Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Summary: You are the new tour manager for Arctic Monkeys during The Car era. You are practically the only girl in the team, also younger than the rest (27 y.o.), so your skills are immediately called into question. In particular, by the frontman who is not used to being led by a woman.

Word count: 10,2k

Warnings: swearing, emotional swing (is it even a warning?), kind of voyeurism (slight), age gap

A/N: Dear friends, hi!! I know, I know that I've promised you to update the fic every 3 weeks, and the disappeared for 1.5 months, but I spontaneously found a job, so there was very little time. But the chapter is much longer and with some interesting collaborations ;) I'll hope you enjoy them!

And write down what do you think if I make a description of not only the whole work, but also the chapter before each new part? Or is it better to keep the intrigue till the end?

In any case, I look forward to your feedback, it's soooo much important for me. I won't promise to return before the end of September, but I'll do my best not to delay. I already have an interesting plot for the next chapters, you should like it💔

*guys, English isn't my first language so if I have (and I know I have lol) any grammar/logic mistakes don't hesitate to tell me :)

The first week after meeting with the group flew by unnoticed. You dealt with the documentation, understanding how necessary it is, no matter how much you hated it, phoned the representatives of Ashton Gate stadium, made sure that everything was okay and confirmed the presence of the group and even tried to check the weather since the gig would be held outside. However, it turned out to be a little more difficult with the transport company. Apparently, James forgot to warn them about the temporary removal of his duties, so you had to spend time clarifying the situation and explaining who you are. It seemed that your hands-on approach was excessive, because you were trying to control everything in one time, but only due to the feeling of extra responsibility.

Steven, as promised, sent the contacts of the guys and important people from the technical crew, so now your phone had the names of Jamie Cook, Nick O'Malley, Matthew Helders and Alex "dickhead" Turner among others. 19 years old you would definitely envy yourself. So when you got a message while cooking pasta for dinner on Saturday night, you already knew it was from the drummer and not from an anonymous online scammer.

Matthew Helders: "good evening, Miss Y/S! I hope you aren't busy. We'll wait you on the soundcheck on Monday at 2 pm in Domino, need your advice :)"

You almost overcooked Carbonara bacon rereading the message. "Do they really need my advice?" you whispered, furrowing your brows "About what?". But the only answer was:

You: "Sure! Do I need to take some 12% cider?"

Matthew Helders: "you better not show up without a package lol"

Immediately followed by:

Matthew Helders: "just kidding! We are waiting only for you, but in the company of cider it will be even better)"

You chuckled, surprised at how quickly Matt went from formal Miss at the beginning of the conversation to smiles and lols at the end. To tell the truth, you still didn't fully understand how to behave with them. On the one hand, you are their manager and have a certain influence, as well as subordination. Steven and James don't have it, although they are "higher" in position, but they've been friends for half of a life, and you are a completely new person. On the other hand, in this area there is no place for strict formalities, especially since the guys don't look like those who would comply with them. After all they were big kids no matter how mature and pretentious they could look on stage, and you clearly felt it. Maybe your company will help them to relax even more, so there won't be any awkwardness and you will naturally find an edge where all of you will feel comfortable and which no one will cross.

With those thoughts, Carbonara and Rosé you spent your Saturday night watching your favorite series "La Piovra". You got used to such calm and quiet evenings. The era of parties until the morning has passed in the university years, and it’s not that you don’t go to clubs now, it’s just that the older you become the better you began to appreciate moments of silence. Not to be bored alone with yourself is the most valuable skill that you have acquired in your life. Having lived first with your parents for a long time, then getting married early at the age of 20 and having lived with your husband for 3 years, you were essentially not left alone with yourself. Having discovered over time that you feel absolutely nothing for the person whom you said "yes" to in the registry office, you were horrified and frightened to say at least. You thought that you get married once for a lifetime, but it turned out that happy endings exist only in fairy tales. That period of despondency, depression and eventual deepening into work gave its results. Major labels began to notice you, inviting you to musical projects with famous bands such as Maneskin. You worked with them for 1.5 years, leaving after their heyday at the Eurovision, realizing that you can’t give them more. That was your second decision to leave, but unlike the divorce, it didn't bring you much suffering. You understood that you and the group gave each other a lot, and although the parting was bitter, everyone understood that it was necessary. You still remained friends with the guys and periodically wrote off to meet. You planned to go to their concert, but couldn't find the time. And after your assignment to the Monkeys it became even more harder to shedule.

After the divorce you didn't have a serious relationship, instead you had a dream job, money, a car, a country house and even a corgi Grapes. You weren't afraid of the future, loved the time in seclusion and found inner peace by meditating on the production of cider, which was your unusual but very tasty hobby. Were you fully happy, though? Wouldn't you like to cross the threshold of the house and be met not by a dog's barking, but by a warm kiss on the forehead and a quiet "how was your day"? You probably wanted to, but it was hard to admit, especially considering that the fear of intimacy sat somewhere deep inside, not letting you forget the disappointment that you experienced when you removed the engagement ring from your finger. Although you remained friends who didn't hold evil against each other, the bitterness of your marriage was almost impossible to remove from the memories.

But for now, your head has been occupied by the sudden question of where to put Grapes for the duration of the tour...

Monday morning was sunny and peaceful, you woke up in a surprisingly good mood, put on your make-up, put on your favorite lime flared jeans, loaded a case of apple drink from the basemеnt into the car, patted Grapes and drove off to the studio. The road took about an hour, so during this time you managed to phone your father. You haven't talked much lately due to your workload, and now was almost the only time of the day when you were relatively free. You put the speaker phone mode, listening to the slightly hoarse voice of the man, without being distracted from the road.

"Hello my dear! How are you?"

"Hi daddy, I'm fine, going to work right now"

"My busy bee, James has already told me about your progress" you could hear him chuckle, coughing a little. You could only guess what Ford said to your father, because you spoke to him only once in these 2 weeks, when you recalled him after meeting with the group. And not that your story was very colorful. Therefore, the guys or Steven contacted him, and from this point of view, you couldn't imagine what they possibly come up with towards you.

"He assured me the boys liked you"

"Oh, really?" you said on the exhale, squeezing your hands on the steering wheel tightly.

"Yes, James is pleased with you. Well done, babe!" you melted under his words. It felt like you were a little girl again who drew a family picture that was hung on the refrigerator, even though mom and dad looked like monsters.

"Thank you daddy, I'm very happy to be with them actually"

"Of course, in such a company of men. Should I be jealous? 'Cause I looked through their photos on the Internet" dad said proudly, to which you burst out laughing, stopping at a traffic light.

"Dad, c'mon, no! They're too old for me" you laughed.

"10 years are not a big deal. Anyway, your choice. Just don't forget to eat please, I know how tough you work now. Otherwise you'll get drunk on your cider. God, how did you even manage to get into this alcohol sphere..." the man groaned in prostration. You rolled your eyes, but still smiled without answering. You got used to your father's fast flow of different thoughts.

"And don't roll your eyes, little naughty one! I care about you. So if they hurt you, you know who to call, right?"

"Oi, who will offend whom first" you retorted defiantly.

"Okay okay, I won't interrupt anymore. Kiss Grapes for me. I love you"

"And I love you very much, hello mom"

"I'll pass it on, bye!"

You turned off the call, fully focusing on the road. After talking with your parents, you always felt warm in your soul, so up to the studio you didn't leave a smile when you sang songs from the radio under your breath.

You arrived exactly at 2 o'clock, as agreed with Matt, but when you saw a few more cars in the parking lot in addition to the familiar Cadillac, you realized that the guys had been here for a long time. You must have looked a little ridiculous in a business suit and heels and a wooden box under your arm, but you didn't have other choice. Holding the car key in your mouth and trying to press the button at the same time, you clumsily closed the trunk with your leg. A purse was still dangling somewhere on your shoulder, and sunglasses had slipped from head to the bridge of your nose. "Must be an amazing picture to observe" you thought tiredly "Oh, if only Matt were here".

But before you had time to think about it, you heard a soft laugh behind you. You turned around sharply, noticing the frontman smoking alone near the entrance. You spat the key into the box, finally pressing the right button, and shouted

"And how long do you look?"

"I came exactly at the most interesting moment" man smiled, taking a puff.

You heavily crossed the entire parking lot, approaching him. Turner, having finished smoking a cigarette and throwing it into a nearby trash can, silently took the box from your hands.

"Hi, Y/N" he greeted you wheezing nicotine in the lungs.

"Hi," you frowened a little, but slowly added "Alex".

Calling him by his first name was... Unusual. A week ago the appeal to him was exclusively Mr. Turner, but today he was the first to break this line. "Well, apparently, we will both have problems with the boundaries of what is acceptable" bitterly flashed through your thoughts.

You both entered the building - Alex with a box in front, you behind holding the door. The way was silent. You wanted to say something to break this crystal quietness of his, but by the time you mustered up the courage, you stopped at the door 13A. The vocalist pushed it with his left shoulder, squeezing the alcohol forward, and you trotted along.

As soon as you and Alex entered the sound studio, you were immediately greeted with whistling and loud hooting.

"Look who's here, Miss Y/N"

"Hi, guys! I'm here with gifts as promised" you smiled broadly.

Alex at this time put the box on the table and immediately took one bottle for himself.

You noticed that there were Tyler and Tom in the studio as well, so you mentally praised yourself for taking bottles with a margin. You didn't know them personally yet, but was willing to change it. Turner introduced you to the men, and surprisingly you didn't hear his usual sneer in the voice.

"So, welcome Y/N Y/S, she's our manager for the summer before America starts and James gets back"

"Happy to finally meet you!" you were the first to extend your hand to Tyler, which he shook gently, smiling affably, and then to Tom. But he intercepted your hand, kissing your knuckles and making you laugh.

"Mutually, Miss" Rowley said enchanted.

"And she makes her own awesome cider, get one" Matt ordered businesslike, raising his voice from behind the drum kit.

"Yeah, there is enough for everyone, don't hesitate to take"

Evidently you arrived during the break, and before that they had already rehearsed a bit. You were wondering what kind of advice they need from you. The thought that they just needed cider you pushed back with a grin. But Alex, as if reading your thoughts, leisurely started speaking leaning on the table and holding a drink.

"Well, thanks for the cider, but that's not what we called you for. Since you're such a big fan of My Propeller, we discussed it here and decided that it's possible to put one on the set list for a couple of times. So listen to how it sounds, maybe have some ideas or whatevah" he was trying to sound casual, not attaching importance to his words for you.

"I'll do my best!" you almost jumped from such news.

Jamie chuckled audibly, running his fingers over the guitar. You sat down on the couch as Matt tapped the rhythm with his sticks and the melody began.

Seductive. The first association that came to your mind when you heard the intro of this song. It was your favorite from Humbug for sure and one of the band's all time favorites. Alex never told in any interview what was the secret of the lyrics, and probably that was the reason it attracted you even more. The guys played it selflessly, as if there hadn't been those decades that they hadn't performed it. You liked how they gave themselves to the process, even if it was just a rehearsal. They were in simple t-shirts and Matt was proudly wearing pineapple shorts, but you could swear, a real concert was unfolding right in front of you.

When Alex started singing you tried to hide the goosebumps as best as you could, but it hardly worked out well. His voice flowed melodically, not betraying a hint of wheezing or breaking, which could arise due to the age. He closed his eyes, tightly gripping the microphone stand, and moved his feet to the beat, slightly ridiculous, but at the same time gracefully. Throughout the song, you didn’t take your eyes off the group for a minute, sometimes singing along to the words, pulling the last syllable of

Coax me out my law

And have a spin of my propeller

When the song ended, you clapped and Nick even made a mock bow.

“I don’t know how objective my assessment will be, because apart from the words of delight I have nothing to add” you honestly admitted. It seemed to you that you heard Alex's quiet "As I said", but Matt was quick to interrupt him asking you "Actually, we have already decided to play it in Bristol, but the question is where to chip in. We'll definitely not start with this one, and the outro is already completed, so..."

You thought a little, trying to understand what motives My Propeller reminds you of, and then the penny dropped.

"Pretty Visitors!" you exclaimed louder than you should have because your words echoed through the silent studio.

"Smooth interlude from Pretty Visitors, yeah, not bad actually" Alex quickly developed your idea, turning to Matt, as if asking "Do you mind?", but the drummer only closed his eyes approvingly. It seemed that they didn't need any words at all, they could understand each other with guitar riffs and drum brakes. Their connection, it was amazing, honed to automatism for past 20 years. They were like scientists in a chemistry lab mixing potions together in an attempt to make a new elixir. It was magic to come true and watching this process was so intimate that you involuntarily felt the heat on your cheeks, as if you were engaged in voyeurism.

***

The hours in the studio flew by. Fortunately for you, the guys decided to surprise fans with the return of Mardy Bum which will be the opener. The exact setlist for Bristol was confirmed at the end of the rehearsal, bringing back Teddy Picker and The View From The Afternoon as well. So looking at the perfect 21 songs, you could only imagine what they would save for London. Originally you were going to visit their concert in your hometown, you bought tickets as soon as sales were announced, but after James's call you easily gave the ticket to a friend, saying that you had won a jackpot.

Tom and Tyler have already left and the five of you are left. You were sitting on a soft chair, moved from the corner of the room, and the guys opposite on the sofas. The boys had laid down their guitars and you were leding a peaceful conversation about life, since the studio rental time ended only in an hour. You told them about your career in the industry, Maneskin and the part time projects you've been working on lately, omitting the details of your divorce because you thought it was too early for them to immerse themselves in such personal aspects of your life.

"By the way, Vic is your big fan and Alex in particular" you giggled, remembering the way drunk Maneskin bassist told you that she would like to sleep with Turner. Those were the carefree times of your youth you warmly remembered.

"Really?" Matt raised his eyebrows as he sipped his seemingly endless bottle of cider "You still have their contacts, right?"

"Yeah, sure, we even text each other occasionally" you quipped.

"And you didn't say you were working with us?" Heldres was surprised.

"Actually, somehow it didn't seem possible" you lowered your gaze, "I mean what would it look like? "Hey guys, look who's here, I now manage the Monkeys btw?" - so what?"

You could tell by the Cheshire smile on Matt's bristly face that this was exactly how he thought.

"Oh no, Matthew, don't you-"

"Oh yes, darling, dial FaceTime, you'll show them our doll" the man neighed, turning to Alex, who had been sitting quietly on the couch until this moment, and fidgeted in place after the suggestion.

"For God's sake, Matt, what a kindergarten behavior" the vocalist howled irritably, rolling his eyes, "I don't even remember their names".

The idea of making fun of Turner a little for the morning case with the box and taking revenge seemed to you unexpectedly delightful. Your hand automatically sank into your pants pocket, deftly pulling it out into the light and finding the right WhatsApp chat.

"Don't worry, you just have to say hi to Vic, I'm sure you'll be fine" you sang sweetly, glancing slyly at Matt, who chuckled approvingly, glad that you supported his idea.

Alex only cursed at this and ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it. Either from nerves, or putting his hair in order before the call.

You moved from your seat to the couch between Alex and Matt, gesturing for Nick and Jamie to join. You put your hand in front of you so only your face was visible in the camera frame, waiting for one of the guys to take the call. It might have been a little ill-advised to call like this without warning on a workday evening, but anyway it was already too late, as the beeps trailed in a string of sounds. You hoped that they didn't have a concert today, in any other case, one of them would definitely pick up the phone from you. And by a happy coincidence, it was Vic who ended up on your screen.

"What the hell, Miss Boogie, are you really occasionally calling after all this time of silence?" despite Victoria de Angelis's accusatory words, she sounded playful. She was a little disheveled and with a bright blush on her face. People were walking randomly with the string interruptions in the background. Apparently, the guys were at the soundcheck at one of the venues, and Vic recently finished playing.

Four pairs of eyes openly stared at you with undisguised interest after hearing the nickname, demanding an answer, but you just mouthed "later".

"Awww, sweetheart, and I'm happy to hear you again too!" you said with an ironic smile.

"I have a lot of news for you, and I will definitely call you in private soon"

"Are you not alone? Who's with you?" the girl even moved closer to the camera in an attempt to see something.

"Well, I have a little surprise for you. Actually four surprises, but one of them you'll find really special" you said conspiratorially, looking around at the guys who were still out of the picture. Alex sat to your right, trying to portray the most distant look, as if everything that was happening was nothing more than baby talk for him.

"Darling, if you have a group orgy without me, then I will be offended and drop the call" the bassist said threateningly, wiping her forehead with a towel that was hung on her shoulder.

You just burst out laughing "Ok ok, I'm not languishing you anymore. I hope you're ready. Boys, say hi to Vics" and you finally moved the camera further so that Matt, Nick and Jamie, who were sitting to your left, got into the camera frame, Alex's appearance you saved for a dessert.

The musician's reaction exceeded all your expectations. At first she narrowed her eyes, bringing the phone even closer to face, and then she widened them with a loud squeal, jumping up from her seat.

"What the hell, Y/N! What the actual fuck, you're a shitty mutherfucker!!!" she covered her mouth with her hand, chaotically moving the phone in different directions. Apparently, other members of the group came running to her scream, as you heard the voice of Damiano asking what happened.

"What happened?" she repeated "The fucking Arctic Monkeys are sitting next to Y/N!" answering a question off-camera and stabilizing the phone. Now you could clearly see the vocalist leaning over her shoulder, Thomas to the side and Ethan slightly behind.

Finally, the men next to you decided to introduce themselves "Hey, guys, what's new?" Matt said smiling to the camera, Jamie and Nick just waved their hands in a friendly manner.

"Oh my God, what's going on" Vic, still dumbfounded, spoke with a face of complete amazement. Damiano, who quickly figured out the whole situation and realized that Vic was unlikely to be able to communicate normally now, carefully took the phone from her hands.

"Hi, Y/N, long time no see! Hi, boys, how fresh you are" the frontman winked. The words "for your age" were suggested mutely, but David left them behind the scenes. The men next to you just laughed quietly at this remark and saluted the Italian boy.

"Vic, that's not all yet, look who's next to me" wanting to finally finish off your friend, you moved the camera to the side, revealing Alex's presence, who was already sitting with a polite smile on his face, leaning on the sofa armrest.

"Hi, love" Turner murmured hoarsely, turning on his usual charisma. You were surprised how quickly he went from "fuck off everyone" to his stage persona. Indeed, a skill acquired over the years.

De Angelis, after looking at the camera for just a second, squealed even harder than the first time, which you even grimaced a little, because in a quiet studio it sounded deafening.

The camera was still held by Damiano, but the girl in the frame could be seen doubled over, holding back cries of happiness. Her guys just laughed out loud at this, knowing full well what a strong fan of Alex she was.

"Y/N, I'm going to fucking kill you, I'll strap your ass so you can't sit still for another week, what are you doing to me?" Vic didn't let go of expressions, which made the men next to you shamelessly laugh, even Turner smiled predatoryly.

"Holy shit, you're real" the girl muttered in one breath.

Her adoration entertained Alex. Celebrities fangirling celebrities wasn't an unknown story for Alex, so the way Vic behaved didn't annoy him, but brought a feeling of sincere pleasure from what was happening.

"It would be strange if I wasn't, mhm?" the man grunted, changing the position - now he rested elbows on his knees, bringing the face closer to your phone. You could smell his light apple scent from the cider you both drank and the cigarette halo that soaked into all of the frontman's clothes.

Damiano finally decided to take control over the situation by turning the camera completely on himself.

"So, Y/N, if you wanted to surprise Vic, then you succeeded 100%! But we are now at soundcheck, and we don't have much time, and she" nodding towards the bassist "still needs to be brought to her senses. We were extremely happy to hear from you, babe. Call us when you are free and tell us everything in detail. Miss you very much!"

"Guys, me too! Love ya, see you at Glasto!"

"Wait! Take a screenshot!" Vic's desperate exclamation came from Damiano's left side.

He made a focused face, looking for the right buttons, while you and the men simultaneously smiled at the camera.

"Send it to the chat" you asked, ending the call and blowing a virtual kiss. You obviously cut off Vic's "I love you" without being entirely sure it was addressed to you.

The studio immediately froze in deafening silence. You put your phone down on the coffee table, still smiling.

"That was a real buzz, they're cute" Matt said leaning back on the couch. The mood of the guys clearly improved by this little conversation. You were glad that you could somehow diversify their evening after a productive and exhausting day. Even Alex stopped keeping his always compressed lips and frowning eyebrows.

"So, Miss Boogie, right?" Jamie began slyly, reminding you of your infamous nickname.

An approving "ooooo" reverberated around the room, from which you hid behind your palms.

"Damn, I was hoping you'd forget" you muttered from your hiding place.

"C'mon, we're intrigued already" Nick reached out to you through Matt, gently taking your hands away from your face.

Jamie suddenly started chanting your name, encouraging you to reveal this terrible secret, and Matt whistled as if Sheffield FC had just scored a goal.

"God, okay, just shut up please" you gave up.

The four men took more comfortable positions in anticipation of your story.

"In fact, there is nothing special in this story, it's just stupid. When Maneskin was approved for Eurovision, we went to celebrate, how can we not. It was in Milan. We got very drunk in a bar and went for a walk around the city. It was about 3 in the morning, and to entertain ourselves we played Truth or Dare. The most banal thing that could be, but nothing better came to mind. And I chose Dare, 'cause everyone else only cowardly told their secrets. So Vic asked me to dance for a minute on the street to any song that a passerby would name. Well, since at such time you are unlikely to meet any adequate passerby, we only found a beggar in the square. I don’t know how old he was, but the first song that he remembered was Boogie Wonderland" at this point you made a dramatic pause, "so yes, I had to dance to this song at night in front of other poor people who came up to us. Since then they call me Miss Boogie. Everyone is satisfied now, having fun, huh?"

You intentionally crossed your arms in insult, surreptitiously watching the laughing band.

"I bet there's a video" Matt said cheekily.

"Yes, there is, but you'll never see it!" you retorted quickly, glaring at the drummer.

"Your hot cheeks make me want to see this video even more" Nick teased tapping Matt on the shoulder.

"You know what," Alex suddenly announced, "choose any song you want. We play it, and you show the video"

You could swear your jaw was somewhere on the floor.

"Woah, did you decide to go all-in?" Matt asked, also not expecting such a generous offer "Be careful, otherwise you will have to play a Taylor Swift song"

"Ouch, why do you think I like her?"

"Who doesn't like her?"

"Your truth" you nodded approvingly.

"I meant our song. We'll perform it at the concert" Turner interrupted your dialogue, looking at you testily from under his eyelashes.

There was a slight silence, which you broke with a heavy sigh.

"Wow, okay, this is getting interesting" you muttered, leaning back on the couch like Helders had done earlier. The three men to your left looked at each other in surprise, waiting for an answer, while you've been thinking, looking at the frontman.

"Certain Romance," you easily stated, "I want this one"

"Your wish is my command, Miss Boogie," he joked without any hint of smile, standing up "you guys remember how to play it, don't you?"

The guys looked at each other dumbfounded, unable to find words for such a drastic change in the behavior of the vocalist, but after a discordant series of affirmative nods, they received a condescending smile from him.

"Well, that's great, there's still time to rehearse. I propose Sheffield!" Alex said solemnly, thrusting his hands into the pockets.

"Al, ru ok?" Matt raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"All right, man" Turner said artificially.

"This house is a circus indeed" swirled through your head. Alex's behavior was defiant. Emerging into conflict. Literally a minute ago everything was peace and quiet, and now he, like a proud peacock, was arranging a show for you at the level of a cheap soap opera.

"No, but seriously, let's even organize a lottery, since Y/N has such an influence on the setlist" Alex didn't let up.

"Come on, pipe down, you suggested it yourself" Nick intervened carefully, not wanting to stir up the smoldering coals of the conflict.

"And I think all of you are into this idea, aren't you?" Turner didn't raise his low, heavily accented baritone, but the underlying toxicity in his tone was evident, "oh, even better, let's ask our Italian friends for advice! Let's get their opinion and her video as well".

"Alexander, smoke?" you stood up decisively from the couch, grabbing your purse and phlegmatically glancing at the wooden cider box you'd probably have to leave in the studio. But you couldn’t leave the guys in such an atmosphere, so out of courtesy you promised to return again.

"Y/N, no problem, see you before Bristol! Send the screen to our group, 'cause I'm getting jealous for these Italians" Matt gave you an encouraging wink in the end, and you certainly promised to do it tonight.

"They'll kill each other"

"He doesn't stand a chance"

Jamie and Matt said at the same time as the door closed behind you.

Alex imposingly walked ahead, not hurrying anywhere. He politely said goodbye to the security guard, noting that the rental period had already come to an end. Almost bowing, he opened the door to the street for you, artificially gallantly holding it with his hand, still making a show from every gesture, which for some reason made you feel disgusted. You were counting on working with middle-aged men, accomplished musicians, but it feels like you are talking to teenagers.

Damp cold air from the river hit your red cheeks, which made you wrap yourself in a jacket more tightly. Alex took out a pack of Marlboro, offering you one, but nodding to himself, removed it, remembering your words a week ago practically at the same place.

"Well?" he said with a cigarette in his mouth, lighting the filter.

The sky was overcast with a milky haze of fog, which wasn't uncommon for these places, a weak wind was blowing, but not a single sound from the road was heard, which made you hear sparks from ignited tobacco hiss like champagne bubbles, falling on the asphalt.

Alex exhaled noisily, squinting at you with his eyes. His face was faintly lit by the flame of a cigarette, but even in such low light, it was noticeable that his gaze was completely blank. "Amazingly indifferent and deep eyes at the same time. It's impossible to tell anything from them" you thought. Or maybe he was like this only with unpleasant people to him, who you apparently were. You can’t even imagine the way these eyes changed on stage "Where are you real, Alexander?". But instead of asking this, you just threw your head back, tiredly closing your eyelids, showing with your whole appearance how absurd the situation is.

"Alex," there wasn't any visible point to call him Mr. Turner even though you were annoyed "I thought we made a deal, didn't we?"

"Really? When?" his voice sounded even more affected than in the studio, despite the fact that now the man spoke rather quietly and slowly. Or maybe even a whisper would be loud in this ringing silence.

"I just don't understand what the problem is" you continued, as if you didn't hear his words.

"I don't see it either, Miss Y/S"

You raised your eyebrows high as you asked a silent question, which made Alex smirk slightly. Taking a puff, he began to explain to you with the intonation of a parent teaching a child not to put his fingers in the socket.

"Listen, I won't hide it, you brought some chaos to our tour. This is different from your direct duties though - to solve all the problems on our way. But you're a stranger who stirred up our peace and foundation. I was initially against this idea, but James left me no choice. You are undoubtedly an educated young lady, and probably from a moral point of view, I sound like a scoundrel now-"

"You sound unprofessional, Alex. You only make me feel contempt, and I don't care about any moral side"

The frontman looked at you from under his brows, taking out a second cigarette in a row from the pack, waiting for a further reaction, but inside you was a frozen magma that didn't want to break out, muffled by self-esteem. For now.

His words contradicted his behavior. In the morning he carries your boxes and asks for a song advice, and in the evening he gives out this shit. If women's logic is ridiculed by society, then men do not have it at all.

“You know what, when James offered me this job, I was damn excited and proud that I would be working with a team like yours. I was on a cloud nine. But you, Alex, you're just a spoiled boy in the body of a 37-year-old man who hasn't overplayed his ambitions and thinks that his subtle nature is so fragile to understand that you need to hide behind the facade of an asshole so that normal people with good intentions don't crawl into your soul. You are cowardly and arrogant!"

You were breathing heavily, and the words "fool fool fool" stretched on repeat in a red line behind your eyes.

You didn't even understand how they escaped from your lips, absolutely thoughtlessly. You even instinctively wanted to raise a hand to cover your mouth, but pulled yourself back in time, deciding to play to the end. Show after show.

Alex hadn't raised a cigarette to his face during your tirade, so that the wick was almost dead in his fingers. You intensively looked at each other without stopping, and at some point it seemed to you that fear flashed in his pupils. Fear of the revealed truth. However, they were covered with a thick veil of indifference to what was happening in a second, and he finally took the last puff, throwing the butt right on the road.

"Miss Y/S, it seems that you have to go" the musician said unemotionally.

You took one last burning look at his features and, without saying a word, turned around towards your car. How ironic, a week ago you left each other in roughly the same sequence of activities - studio, cider, parking lot, but under completely different circumstances.

Slamming the door shut, you sharply revved, not bothering to warm up the engine, and drove out of the parking lot with a clang of tires. Burning tears of resentment gushed from your eyes, covering the already foggy road in front, but you didn't pay attention.

Your cooperation has just begun, and you have already swept on an emotional swing. Only in the morning you were driving in a car towards the sun and rejoicing at the warm words of your dad, and in the evening you return home, wiping the salty paths with the back of your hand from your face.

You were never embarrassed by tears, you cried out almost all of them during a divorce, but if they dripped from your eyes today, then there was a reason for that. Your parents taught you that after rain there is always a rainbow, after tears there is always peace of mind, you need to be able to live through any emotions in order to turn them into your power later.

***

You haven't seen the boys since that evening until today's early departure for Bristol. Of course, you communicated on all sorts of organizational issues during this time and there was no visible tension, especially since they didn't hear about your quarrel with Alex. You were more than sure that he would not tell his friends about that incident. This is what infringes on him, and therefore makes him weaker, which he couldn't allow.

All these days you have wondered what was the reason for such a sharp behavior, however you couldn't really delve into yourself. Why exactly you were crying - from resentment, overstrain or just an emotional outburst, it was also difficult to understand. Perhaps all together. Over the past month, from your first conversation with Ford to recent events, your life has changed 180 degrees, so it's no surprise that your psyche gave a little glitch.

You've comforted yourself with routines though — setting Grapes up with a friend until your next visit to London, inviting your parents over for dinner to tell you all the details, packing your suitcase for the tour, checking out all the technical stuff, and almost forgetting what kind of adventure you're packing for.

And now, without any idea of the nearest future, you were sitting in a black Mercedes Sprinter between Marcus and James Kerr, Ben was in the passenger seat in front, Steven was riding with the group in the bus. It was only 8 am, you were sleepy, only at the last moment you didn’t forget to remove eye patches before going out, you didn’t even put on makeup, so you sat in the wide sunglasses, even though the sun wasn't visible through the tinted windows of the car.

It seemed that everyone was relaxed, easily communicated with each other and knew exactly what each would do upon arrival at the venue. Unlike you. The schedule was pretty clear - check-in at the hotel, lunch, departure for the soundcheck and then free time for the management and the band, but very busy time for the technicians. Of all this, the most sensible thing was to drink plenty of wine at dinner and walk around the rest of the day in a relaxed state of mind, but those were only pitiful thoughts of creeping fear. Deep inside you were sure that everything would be fine, it couldn’t be otherwise, because even if you didn’t know how to do this or that task, the guys knew their duties, and they physically couldn’t play the concert badly.

"Hey, Y/N, you kinda took working with us too seriously" Marcus snapped you out of your thoughts with his mocking tone.

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked, turning to him.

He touched the bridge of his nose with his index finger and chuckled. It took you another couple of seconds to figure out what he meant, so he took advantage of your confusion to explain "you now going to wear glasses in the dark as well?"

The reference to Alex was read transparently, so you imperceptibly flinched and pointedly removed them, as if not wanting to be associated with him at all.

"No, no, I just didn't have time to do my make up" you honestly admitted, shrugging your shoulders ingenuously.

"Oh, I'm sorry, we-" the guy looked around at all the passengers, "we don't understand this here"

You laughed slightly, at the same time relaxing, and asked him a question that had been of interest to you for a long time.

"Why don't you have women in the team? I mean at all"

Instead of Marcus, Ben decided to answer from the front seat, apparently as the eldest among you.

“It didn’t happen on purpose, but later it became kind of unspoken rule. We are here like on the fishing, you know? We leave our wives, spend time within our male company, it’s like an alternative branch of your life, you do quality work here, you feel needed, while no one owe you nothing and you feel absolutely free in your actions, understanding thoroughly those who are around you"

"Are you aware that this is how a normal team should work, regardless of gender? It sounds somehow sexist. Am I really embarrassing you in actions?" you smiled slyly, anticipating the denouement.

"Actually, besides you, we have 3 other women in the team.." Marcus embarrassingly chipped in.

"Guys, don't bother yourself with excuses, I knew who I was messing with" you laughed, crossing your legs. Marcus looked at you dumbfounded, but said nothing, and James just chuckled softly at the window.

"Well, if you knew that, then you also should know about our tradition, right, guys?" Ben began in a conspiratorial tone, exchanging glances with the guys.

"Um, about what?" you arched an eyebrow in disbelief.

"The newbie is signed up for the after-party. Tonight is your first concert, and after that we go to the bar, the drinks are off you! We're equal here" Ben imperturbably continued to scan your reaction with a fox-eye, waiting for an answer. It's not that you're greedy or unable to pay, but to buy drinks for the whole team...

And as if ahead of your question, the man added "enough management and the band".

As if it changed the essence. But you couldn't refuse, so you mumbled something affirmative, getting a roar of male hoarse laughter in response, and starting to laugh at yourself. You appreciated in people, especially males, this ability - to make a woman laugh. In a time of constant change and stress, finding someone who will make you forget about it was very important.

The rest of the road was spent in the same good mood, and these conversations did help you to forget about your anxiety due to upcoming events. Upon arrival, all the management team and the band settled in the hotel. As James promise, you've been given a private suite overlooking the most beautiful park in the city center. But due to an unknown coincidence, you lived not on the same floor with the attendants, but through the door from the group.

Matt carried your things to your room and you agreed to meet for lunch in 20 minutes.

Since you were able to miraculously did a make up even in the car, thanks to the sensitive driving, now you decided to change into more presentable clothes in which you will be at the concert.

Without changing the habit of choosing clothes carefully and for a long time, you took off your hot sweatshirt, remaining in only sweatpants and starting to go through the whole suitcase in search of those things that would match your mood. You had a couple of looks planned, but today's unexpectedly warm weather changed your plans a little, so you confidently took out a black leather skirt and a white blouse.

A piece of matter fit all your forms perfectly, so you were satisfied with the choice, spinning in front of the mirror by the bed. The black bodice harmonized perfectly with the skirt, and the crazy idea of staying only in it, without putting on anything, flashed through your head like a bullet, but flew out just as quickly as soon as you heard the muffled thud of heels on the carpet outside the door and a muttered "Jamie?" at your door followed by a knock. You hysterically shouted "No!" exactly at the moment when the door opened without a click.

"Shit, Y/N!" Alex, not having time to properly enter your room, but having clearly noticed you in a compromising way, abruptly recoiled, remaining in the corridor, but not completely closing the door so that he could hear you, but not see.

"God! What a mess" you pleaded, rushing to the door. You stuck out only your head, meeting the eyes of the musician, who was discomposedly staring at you point-blank.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Why are you naked?"

You asked at the same time, shouting over each other.

"This is my room! And I'm not naked!"

"Where's Jamie? I thought he was at 312" Turner asked, a little bewildered, clearly embarrassed.

"I have no idea where Jamie is. How did you even get in?" you were still half-dressed, hiding most of your body behind a wooden door.

"I knocked, but it turned out that it was not slammed at all"

"What the fuck? Maybe Matt didn't close when he left," you muttered more to yourself. You clearly saw the question “What did Matt do here?” that arose in Alex’s head, but which he never voiced. Clearly realizing that the dialogue could not be continued in this form, you abruptly switched the subject, trying to tear his eyes from your neck.

"I was changing for dinner anyway, so see you there" you sharply slammed the door in front of him, not wanting to go into details, and tiredly leaned your head against the wooden surface from the inside.

"Crazy" you heard quiet along with receding soft steps.

It was your only meaningful conversation with the singer, since that evening. You understood that it couldn’t go on like this for a long time, but at the moment you didn’t have any ideas how to fix the situation. So you just finally put on the look you chose, after checking that the door was locked, then decided to add a black headband, and being satisfied with your appearance, went downstairs.

After lunch, the whole team went to the stadium, where the technicians had already set up half of the equipment. The guys immediately went to the sound check, and you and Steven went to meet Ashton Gate management. It seemed like there was still plenty of time before the concert, and you thought you would have a few more chances to double-check everything, but in the turmoil that was going on behind the scenes, this turned out to be impossible.

To be honest, you were overwhelmed by what was happening. The soft music, people around, the sun rays moving towards the sunset - this whole scene that was unfolding before you as you unexpectedly stepped onto the empty stage a few minutes before the crowd was let into the stadium looked surreal and incredibly familiar, as if you had been here many times before. The noise and chaos behind you contrasted with the tranquility in front of your eyes. The empty space that was about to be filled with a crowd in just a few minutes brought both excitement and serenity. These were the moments that seemed unreal, but made life worth living.

***

The show was about to start, and you stood next to the dark staircase, where the guys from the dressing room were soon to come up. Leaning on the railing, you nervously twirled a lock of hair around your finger. You went through all the items on the checklist in your head, checking off each one mentally, but something still bothered you.

Alex.

Your unfinished conversations and evasive behavior were weighing on you. You felt guilty, knowing that as his manager, you had behaved tactlessly, driven by emotions. It ate at you from the inside. You decided that you would talk to him today, apologize and put this issue to rest once and for all.

Suddenly you noticed a flickering light from the security, which meant that the group is entering the stage, and you turned sharply, both wanting and fearing to see them. As always, looking luxurious, these four men made their way up to the platform, remaining unnoticed by the audience.

"Good luck, guys! I'm buzzing as hell honestly" you tried to sound confident, but your voice trembled on the last word.

"Miss Y/S, is it just me or are you worried about us?" Nick lightly touched your shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

"Well, it's my first time with you" realizing how ambiguous that sounded, you interrupted yourself with a laugh.

"Oh, you'll love it, babe" Matt mimicked a voice from a cheap adult movie, tossing a stick in the air. It seemed like he could find the right words in any situation, and in the future, you would highly appreciate this skill.

All this time, you were glancing at Alex out of the corner of your eye, trying to read his emotions, but he calmly adjusted the folds on his unchanging dark blue jacket and stretched his neck with turns left and right. Seeing that the guys had moved a little away from you, you looked at your watch, estimating that you had 5 minutes maximum, and whispered to yourself "now or never".

"Alex!" you called him out loudly, trying to outshout the crowd "I wanted to talk, I know it's not the most appropriate time, but-"

"Y/N, forgive me, okay," the man unexpectedly began, barely approaching you. For the first time, you saw genuine excitement in his eyes, here, in the darkness of the backstage area of a 30,000-seat stadium. For some reason, only now you clearly feel the difference in height between you two. He looked down at you patronizingly. Maybe it was because of his heels or the knot of nerves in your stomach that made you feel so small in your attempt to hide from his penetrating gaze.

"I've been a complete jerk and acted childish from the very beginning. You didn't do anything to deserve such treatment. I don't want our tension to affect the group and our work in any way, so I admit my guilt"

You stood in shock, slightly opening your mouth. You absolutely did not expect such a turn of events, so your entire improvised speech evaporated from your mind instantly. He suddenly smiled softly, raising an eyebrow, as if asking 'well, what now?' Still not believing what you heard, you nodded your head almost automatically.

"Y-yes, you were a jerk indeed. But I also didn't behave entirely correctly, my first impression wasn't great either," you sighed in frustration, recalling your memories, "I suggest we start over, huh? Hi, my name is Y/N, I'm your new tour manager, nice to meet you" and to confirm your words, you gracefully extended your hand to him.

"Nice to meet you too, I'm Alex Turner, sort of singing here," he shook your hand with an energetic movement. His palm was dry and steady, causing a pleasant warmth throughout your body, "just business then?"

"Just business indeed. And a little bit of music" you said, more relaxed, smiling with all 32 teeth, still holding onto his hand.

"Deal, Miss Y/S"

For a moment, the roar of fans faded away for you, and you only saw the outlines of his pupils in the semi-darkness and his fingers firmly holding yours. However, your fragile moment was promptly ruined by-

"Al, c'mon!" Jamie impatiently called, and your hand felt the gusts of wind instead of calloused skin of the frontman. You watched him walk away in his waddle manner, as he suddenly turned and shouted, winking "By the way, nice lace".

It took you a couple of seconds to understand what was said, and when the meaning of his words reached you, you exclaimed in indignation "You, motherfucker!" almost stomping your foot, but your cry was lost in the wild roar of the crowd, as the guys were already on stage.

It was a miraculous sight. Four men made people go into ecstasy just with their appearance - this is the phenomenon of the Beatles, and they were proof that rock and roll is alive. As long as they are alive. Every strum on the guitar strings, every touch of the lips to the microphone, every drumstick strike, every hair flip was special in their performance, they themselves were special.

You were fascinated, to say the least. When the performance came to the last song before the encore, Body Paint, one of your favorite songs from the album, that was definitely made to be played live, you were out of words. The whole song built you up to the climax, to the outro that every time was a pure jamming and improvisation. And you literally exploded in ecstasy when Alex started walking around the stage, unable to stand still from the knocking down energy. He closed his eyes in languor, biting his lips, screaming, throwing out his arms, and you couldn't take your eyes off. You weren't dancing or jumping, you were inseparably watching his every movement, arms folded across your chest. Your mouth was agape against your will, and your eyes eagerly punched a hole in the frontman. This is a unique performance, it's something that is hard to explain without feeling it for yourself. You were made up of his music, you literally felt these waves inside your veins, your brain wasn't able to comprehend what was happening, it was like a catharsis for all of you. And you definitely didn't want to be saved.

Suddenly Alex turned his head to your side, continuing to play some divine riff outlining the Van Gogh fields on the guitar strings. His hair was tousled, shirt unbuttoned, but his jacket fitted perfectly. He rested his eyes on your figure, smiling with one corner of his lips, and you looked at each other for good seven seconds which felt like eternity. You were sure that everything was clear in your eyes, and even if he stood next to you and heard you, you wouldn't be able to utter a word.

What you definitely didn't expect when your eye contact was broken and Alex walked to another side of the stage, that tears would involuntarily flow from your eyes. "What the hell..." you wondered aloud, quickly removing the salty tracks from your cheeks. In fact, you perfectly understood why you were crying. From a sense of greatness. The greatness of music, human synergy and the power of unity. It was too much for you, too strong emotions to bear. It was excellent, it was the taste of life, thanks to which you still were here. "God, if you exist, bless this band, they are saints" although it sounded ridiculous and naive, you seriously were ready to pray for the talent of these guys, for the ability to make other people feel alive. You were in your place, you did everything right, you were cruising the victory. Today he convinced you.

As soon as the last chords of "RU Mine?" were played and the bows to the fans were taken, the men disappeared from the deafening roar behind the dark curtains of backstage. Their hair stuck to their sweat faces, and a distinct masculine smell was coming from their shirts. The guys passed by you with exhausted smiles, unable to utter a word from fatigue, and disappeared into the darkness of the corridors.

You didn't know what to do right now. According to your understanding, your job didn't end with pre-concert organization, there were also post-concert tasks to be done. But you were so lost in emotions that you felt like you were drifting away from an anaphylactic shock.

Unexpectedly, Tyler came to you as he was the last one to come off the stage. He fraternally put a hand on your shoulder, tousling your hair with his heavy palm.

"Well, with the initiation into our hell, sweetheart. How're you?"

"Thrilled, and I want more!" you declared confidently, matching his quick pace that was pulling you further away from the frenzy of the crowd.

"Well, don't doubt that, it's just the beginning" he charmingly smiled, and you couldn't help but mirror his expression.

"Now we're going to celebrate, and you're coming with us" it sounded so authoritative that even if you wanted to object, you immediately closed your mouth, nodding in agreement. "Besides, seems like you need to unwind" you remembered.

You left the stadium only an hour later, apparently, it was a normal time for the guys to "recover". You'd made several jokes about one woman waiting for seven men and received offended and teasing looks in return. You got into the same Mercedes you arrived in that morning, and the driver took you to one of Bristol's typical English pubs that the guys loved so much.

You didn't understand their fondness for these quaint places where the sofa upholstery hadn't changed along with the owner. There were so many modern bars in the city, any of which the band could afford to rent entirely, but they paid tribute to traditions, obviously cherishing memories of their lively youth when they started playing their first concerts in similar places. Such a return to their roots after the thousands-capacity stadiums grounded them well. And the warm nostalgia, slipping across the Guinness glasses every time, was a corner of genuine joy for the guys, the only true luxury they possessed.

And overall, you didn't care where to spend money or on what. After all today's events, which felt like a whole month, you didn't mind anymore. In the morning, you looked at your apple orchard in the early mist of suburban London, then stood half-naked in a five-star hotel room in front of a world-renowned music star, and now, in the evening, you huddled next to him on an old leather couch under a red velvet chandelier, drinking a B-52.

Glasses, shots and colorful bottles flashed in front of your eyes like a kaleidoscope. Your head was spinning from the amount of alcohol, and your cheeks hurt from laughter.

"My dear mates, I propose a toast to Miss Y/S and her first concert with us! I don't know if she understands where she has ended up, but we'll make sure she has a great time with us, right, guys? To Y/N!" Matt solemnly proclaimed, rising from the table, and 8 hands, pouring drinks onto each other, reached towards the center of the table to clink glasses.

"Guys, thank you for this opportunity, thanks to James for his unplanned vacation, thanks to Steven and Marcus-" although the latter wasn't here, you decided to thank him as he had been providing you with all kinds of help during these weeks, "for their support and adaptation, and of course, to you Monkeys, for accepting me. I do like your crazy Monkey house" you joked, but it didn't negate the truth. Despite all the past disagreements with the lead singer, you felt that you were still doing everything right. And even if you hadn't gone on this adventure today, you would still feel grateful to fate for such an opportunity to be at the center of life.

"Glad to hear that," Jamie chuckled ironically, "as they say, welcome aboard"

And with these words, you all whistled, and Tom even shouted like a saloon girl from the Wild West. Your evening, or rather the night, continued until 3 am, fortunately there was no concert the next day, so you could at least sleep in a bit. You looked in horror at the amount you had drunk, trying to estimate how long it would take to recover the contents of your wallet. But you had consumed so much gin and tonic that the only thing that really worried you was how to walk straight for at least 2 meters to the bar to pay for it all.

"Drinks on me!" you declared with a mischievous smile to the group as you headed towards the bar counter.

"What, for everyone?" Matt playfully refined.

"Well, yeah," you didn't have the energy to realize his surprise, but he also didn't have the energy to argue with you, "that's no problem".

And thus, the following events spun in your head like a foggy whirlpool. Here you were finally breathing in the fresh air of the street, tilting your head towards the purple sky, then you were half-lying on someone's shoulder in the black minivan, and finally for no reason you were walking barefoot on a soft hotel carpet, but there were no shoes in your hands as well.

You didn't have any memories of walking into your room either. But in the moment, the feeling of soft snow-white hotel sheets flooded your body with long-awaited bliss. You instantly fell into the arms of Morpheus, only on the verge of consciousness noticing that someone took off the headband from your hair, which had been squeezing your head tightly, and silently closed the door.

You may be too drunk to remember each of your actions clearly, but you definitely wouldn't mistake the familiar scent of cigarettes in the room.

---------------------------------------------------

A/N: Oh, so much has happened in one chapter, and this is just the beginning of the tour... I decided to tell the background of Y/N for a better understanding of her actions. What do you think, maybe you want more of "Italian friends" in the work? Whose line do you want to read in more detail? Share your emotions, it is incredibly valuable to me that someone reads this work actually!

xo🤍

Taglist: @missbabyjay @rentskenobi @findmeincorneliastreet @indierockgirrl here it is!

*if you want to be removed or added to the taglist, feel free to ask me!

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internetgiraffekid1673 · 4 months ago

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My brother (J-Dog) is Mentally Unwell about Fablehaven and is making it my Problem:

Today, my brother and I had a conversation that lasted so long that my dad literally had to stop it because he needed to take 5 minutes to talk to us about important things.

What was this conversation about you may ask? Well, it was all about Fablehaven, but it kinda went all over the place. It started with my brother sharing his thoughts about his current reread, which he started to settle a years long debate about whether or not Grandpa Sorenson actually counts as a responsible adult. This is part of a larger discussion about J Fiction novels removing all responsible adults so that great adventures can happen, and thus, what counts as "responsible adults being around."

While we agree that no, Grandpa Sorenson does not count, we did not reach a consensus on how irresponsible he is and how much of it is his fault. (I think he's a trash parent/grandparent, my brother just thinks he has some issues and was in a stressful time period).

This is because we got sidetracked wondering how on Earth neither of Seth and Kendra's parents EVER found out about the magical world given their canonical upbringing and the rules of the world. I described this conversation as "taking a wrench to the machine that is canon, but instead of tightening loose screws, we're just hitting it until it actually works because the writer is holding the hammer hostage." I will not bother explaining the mess that is Fablehaven's worldbuilding, but we could not come up with an explanation that didn't fall under "probably child abuse."

Did I mention I've only read Dragonwatch and the first book of Fablehaven, while my brother has read both mutliple times?

So basically, I spent the longest conversation I have had in MONTHS with my brother, arguing about/trying to fix plot holes that NOBODY else cares about in a junior fiction book series that I have not read.

I should also say: this is the longest conversation I've had in months. The previous one was also with my brother about his latest dnd character, and we were basically writing their backstory (he basically reinvented puss in boots, but it was an accident).

And then I sit here and wonder why I don't feel as unfulfilled as lacking in-person friends is supposed to make you feel. It's this. This is why. I don't lack friends. I just have an awesome brother who's great at accidentally monopolizing my social battery.

#babbles with brothers #brother #brother things #J-Dog #my brother is my best friend #best friends #sibling things #giraffe's ramblings #fablehaven #fan wank #plot holes #middle grade fiction #taking fun silly children's fantasy way too seriously #we do this with everything #i know the tvtropes term is fan wank #but my dad called this “hitting it with the adjustable hammer”#so now i'm yoinking the term #Fandom's Adjustable Hammer

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showtoonzfan · 2 years ago

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I really try to understand and reread the Ken document to see where Viv’s supporters are coming from, but I’m sorry, all I thought when I was done reading it is that Vivienne is just mentally unstable to the point where she can’t carry a normal and steady conversation without either being petty or freaking out. I think that’s why so many of her peeps and fans excuse her because they see her in a vulnerable state and see her say she’s “shaking” and that she can’t handle this, so everyone coddles her and thinks that Ken must have said something to warrant a reaction like this out of Vivzie…….expect….they didn’t.

Ken never harassed or poked Vivzie, they never got angry and forceful, but when they reasonably give Viv VALID constructive criticism about how she should be crediting her artists since she’s leading an INDIE team (and can’t figure that out apparently since she compared herself to fucking Disney) apparently that was enough to send Vivzie off the edge immediately and think that Ken was attacking her, when Ken said it themselves, they were just talking to her. To have fans paint Ken out to be this needy person who demanded credit in unwarranted aspects is disgusting, because what they said in their document was true. They HAD been responsible for writing MAIN plot points, jokes, and ideas that all made their away into the final product, and the fact that they only got an “additional writing” credit rather than having their name up with Viv, Dave, and Raymond is bullshit.

Viv’s point she had made of Ken’s writing only being in the “early stages” is literally a lie because what they wrote ended up in the final product, not only writing main jokes but Alastor being in the pilot and investing in the hotel, Angel being there for free rent and being the first hotel patron, Charlie trying to convince those of redemption ect. And then when the two brushed it aside, good ol’ perfect Vivzie called Ken an abuser to others, saying false things behind their back while ALSO pretending to be nice to them upfront. That’s my biggest issue. Tell me one instance where Ken was “abusing” Vivzie. They weren’t, Viv is just so fucking emotionally sensitive with zero thick skin and sees anyone daring to criticize her as an attack, and she’s STILL like that to this day. I really don’t see how people can read a document of her not only tracing and not crediting someone, but talking lies behind someone’s back while also being nice..and STILL support her, I really can’t. And it’s funny when some of y’all think that we want Hazbin to cease to exist or Helluva to stop running….no….we don’t give a shit about the shows, we want Viv to get the consequences of her actions and her victims to get justice. We want her to own up to what she’s done, especially the recent drama, and yet she never does cause in her eyes she can do no wrong. She always fucking acts like she did nothing wrong, or blames her behavior on everyone but herself. She’s a 30 year old woman, she acts like a child and needs to be kicked down a notch. She never learns from her experiences or gets better and it really is tiring to see people side with her EVERY single time, despite their being countless evidence clear as day that she’s an entitled brat, with even ANOTHER spindle-member coming out and revealing that they were mistreated as well:

All I can say is that I hope more members are inspired to come out, and not afraid, especially since there are ex members who came out that we haven’t heard a word from, like Salem Squidder, the person above, even Ashley Nichols. People need to realize that wether you like Viv or not, people were HURT by her, and she needs to come forward and confront it, not vague tweet and hide behind her fanbase, leaving everyone to fight her battles instead of herself.

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss criticism #anti vivziepop #helluva critical #spindlehorse criticism #spindlehorse toons #vivienne medrano #Vivziepop #vivziepop rant #vivziepop drama #helluvaverse #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #vivziemind

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allaboutthedrama · 10 months ago

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I know that I'm pretty late to the conversation, but I've just reread all of Vampire Academy and Bloodlines (possibly for The Untitled Jill Project) and it's the first time I've reread the VA series in years.

I'm just thinking about how, in my opinion, the quality of the VA series improved as we got into the last few books, and with Bloodlines, I think the reverse sort of happened. Spoilers for both series ahead. (Yeah, the last book came out nine years ago, but you never know.)

I think I hadn't realized how cohesive the ending of Last Sacrifice was. Details from as far back as the first book came up and were very relevant. The political plotline came together in a really tight way, Sonya Karp turned out the be Chekov's spirit user, we got more world-building details, the antagonists had complex and convoluted motivations, and even when there were plot threads left dangling, those actually served a purpose. I loved the part where Adrian pointed out to Rose that her actions had consequences and even though she had gotten what she wanted, not everything else was resolved, so people like Eddie and Sydney and Jill were left in bad situations, and she was partly responsible. It created a little more moral ambiguity, which I really enjoyed, especially since YA tends to like the very neat endings where everything winds up happily ever after.

The Vampire Academy books improved the deeper into the series you got. And, although I love Bloodlines, I do think that the first three books are much stronger than the last three. Which is a shame, because the series has so much potential.

I think Mead is at her best when she's writing something of a mystery. Last Sacrifice obviously comes to mind (they're solving a murder mystery, after all). Bloodlines had that, with the tattoos, Lee, and Keith being shady all building up to a really exciting climax. The Golden Lily wasn't quite as much of one, but the clues leading up to the reveal of the Warriors were well-placed. Indigo Spell went straight back into mystery territory, trying to find Jackie's sister. And then The Fiery Heart is where, in my opinion, things start to falter. There's a lot of interesting worldbuilding information introduced, with the new details about spirit and magic coming up, and it was fun to get into Adrian's head, but it definitely felt like this supernatural romance was shifting to become a lot more romance and a lot less concerned with the supernatural. But that's not such a big deal. It's the middle of the series, we're building tension, Re-Education has been a threat hanging over Sydney since page one of Bloodlines and we're finally seeing that fear pay off.

But then we get to Silver Shadows, and while I guess figuring out where Sydney is could be a mystery, it doesn't really resonate the way 'who killed the queen' does, in my opinion. Sydney's arc in Re-Education is great, and I do like the way the books deal with Adrian's mental health issues, but some of Adrian's chapters felt more like filler. And a bigger issue, imo, was that this was when we really started to lose the side characters. Some of my favorite parts of the first few books were characters like Jill, Eddie, Trey, and Angeline, and then the ensemble atmosphere was largely gone, because Sydney was in Re-Education and Adrian left Palm Springs. The final fight and flight sequence was really good, though, so I had high hopes going into The Ruby Circle.

The Ruby Circle is probably my least favorite of the books between both of the series, and I think that's a shame, since it's the finale. We'd just had a 'kidnapped character' arc, so I think there was less emphasis on describing everyone's reactions. We saw the biggest reaction from Eddie, but as a result, he got kind of flattened out from the really well-rounded character he'd been from the back half of the VA books and the first part of Bloodlines.

The Ruby Circle could have been a really good mystery, with lots of twists that tied up a lot of the lingering questions from the series. Except that a lot of threads from the rest of the series were dropped and didn't resurface. They never caught whoever was behind the assassination attempt on Jill. I don't think we even got an official resolution on whether Lissa managed to change the quorum law. The political plots that were integral to VA weren't significant in Bloodlines, despite it all starting because of a politically motivated assassination. We also never got a resolution on the rogue spirit user who turned Lee back from being Strigoi, or the spirit users who had been sent to the psychiatric facility in Tarasov (the prison from Spirit Bound). We never found Robert Duro. The bond itself was somewhat discarded, too, whenever it wasn't immediately useful for a plot point. Instead, we just got a scavenger hunt across the country, a few fight scenes where the protagonists were pretty much guaranteed to win, and a final showdown with a magic barrier that, as we learn after, would have dropped down on its own in a few hours for them to bring Jill food, anyways.

I obviously still like the series, since I'm rereading it and talking about it nine years after the fact. But I think that there were a lot of opportunities to continue plots from VA that were lost, even when they should have been brought back into the story.

If anyone has made it this far, I suppose I should throw in a pitch for The Untitled Jill Project, which will be my attempt to rewrite the Bloodlines series from Jill's perspective, because I think there's still a lot more story to be told. I haven't got it all mapped out, but I intend to at least tie up some of the narrative loose ends I mentioned that bothered me about the series in that story. I might write up another post here soon about how Jill's characterization also suffered as Bloodlines went on, if anyone's interested.

Anyways, if anyone has any strong opinions on what I said (agreeing or disagreeing) please let me know! I'd love to talk about the series with people, since no one in my real life has read it, and I'm curious to know what the rest of the fandom thinks about how the narrative progressed in Bloodlines.

#Vampire Academy #Vampire Academy books #Bloodlines (Richelle Mead)#Eddie Castile #Sydney Sage #Adrian Ivashkov #Jill Dragomir #Jillian Dragomir #Jill Mastrano #The Untitled Jill Project #Rose Hathaway

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you-remind-me-of-the-babe · 5 months ago

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Ten Questions for Writers

Thanks for the tags @run-for-chamo-miles @artsyunderstudy @youarenevertooold @emeryhall @monbons

@shrekgogurt @facewithoutheart

I’ve definitely done this before but it’s been a while so here we go!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 26

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 356,978 but that includes several collabs. So I think it’s closer to 300k.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Carry On. That’s it. Nothing has ever grabbed me like this before.

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I do! Comments mean so much to me, and I want to express my gratitude to the person and hopefully let them know how meaningful it was. I know leaving a comment can be intimidating or folks might not be sure what to say, but I promise, writers hold on to those gems. So I always feel like, if I reply, I’m validating their effort and maybe encouraging them to do it more. Plus! We have a VERY wonderful comment culture in this fandom and I think the more we cultivate that skill, the more conversations and connections we can make. And in those deeper conversations I always learn more about my writing from how the reader viewed it and, as someone who still feels very new to writing, I get a lot of value from it.

5. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of. But I’m not checking other sites so 🤷🏼‍♀️ This question is so interesting to me because most people are answering no, but does this happen a lot in other fandoms? So curious…

6. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes! I participated in the round Robin for Birthday Man and co-wrote two other fics, one with @fatalfangirl and one with @whatevertheweather . Plus the Star Trek: Redemption series for @raenestee. They were all a ton of fun. The creativity really gets flowing bouncing ideas off of each other and getting to open a draft that’s already started or has moved a chunk without your doing is amazing. It can also be challenging but it’s a good kind of challenge.

7. What’s your all time favorite ship? Snowbaz, obvi. Wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.

8. What are your writing strengths? I’m always terrible at this question because after 3 years of writing I still feel like a novice and I always turn to others to tell me what’s working well. But, ok. What do I think is a strength? I think I come up with interesting concepts, and can dream up slightly more complex plots. I can do the inner thoughts or monologues pretty well. Following the emotional thread of a scene. Sometimes when I reread my writing I will find myself smiling or laughing or making a 🥺 face so that’s good.

9. What are your writing weaknesses? Grammar, punctuation, mechanics, word rules. Did I pay attention in English class? Apparently not. Sometimes I word things in overly complicated ways. Bless my betas for quietly and steadfastly fixing all of these things for me. I’m sure it gets tedious but I appreciate it! Especially since I don’t seem to learn to do it right even after they fix it 100 times. 😬

10. First fandom you wrote for? Carry On. Although, if I dug up some very old school work, I’m pretty sure there’s a short story from 6th grade that probably reads like a Wrinkle in Time fic.

Throwing some no pressure tags if there’s anyone else who’d like to do this. If you already did and I missed it, apologies! @whatevertheweather @fatalfangirl @moodandmist @mooncello @valeffelees

@bookish-bogwitch @cutestkilla @thewholelemon @skeedelvee @angelsfalling16

#tag game #writer tag game #my writing

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duckprintspress · 2 months ago

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On the Care and Maintenance of Writers

September is “Be Kind to Editors and Writers” Month. Earlier this month, we celebrated with a roundtable discussion with our editors, and now we’re back to share a roundtable chat we had with our authors!

The participants in this conversation are Sebastian Marie, Robin S. Blackwood, jumblejen, Max Jason Peterson, Lucy K.R., polls, boneturtle, Shannon, and Nina Waters.

1. What is your favorite self-care as a writer?

Sebastian Marie: My favorite self-care is going back and either a) reading through comments on something I really liked writing or b) rereading something I really liked writing.

Robin S. Blackwood: For me it’s revisiting inspirations. The books, films, music, that made me want to write, in the genres I write in…my inspirations vary from story to story but there’s some pretty strong ones present in all of them as I like to think I write out of love for the genre. And I do find I need “input” of stories or even music to “output” creative things of my own.

jumblejen: When things aren’t going well, I remind myself that while life is short, it’s also long. The inspiration will come ’round again. The words will flow. The story will go on. Recognizing that fallow periods are just as important as the productive ones has lowered my anxiety when I have a hard time writing. Especially in times of great stress and challenges, remembering this helps keep me from panicking.

Lucy K.R.: This is such a good reminder! I think often about how we as humans USED to be more in tune with the seasonality of production, as we were beholden to harvest times and seasonal ingredients, and I wonder if sometimes losing track of that has made it hard for us to recognize when our own internal soil needs to rest through a winter.

2. What kindnesses have others done for you to support your writing that you’ve appreciated?

polls: When I’m close to the deadline, I sit in front of the page for hours with little time for breaks, so something I appreciate a lot is when someone brings me snacks and coffee, or even breakfast after a long night of writing.

Nina Waters: Just…letting me write. Leaving me alone to do what I need to do. Also, comments are always extremely appreciated.

3. What’s an advice you’d like to give to people who want to support their writer friends?

polls: Volunteer as their rubber ducky! In programming, the concept of rubber duck debugging refers to talking out one’s problem to a rubber duck. For a writer, the best rubber ducky is a friend who will listen to them rant about their story. You don’t need to do much, in many cases the writer will clamber out of the plot hole by themself, although a strategically placed (yet honest) “yeah it makes sense!” can’t hurt

Nina Waters: This might be strange, but like, my advice is don’t offer to read their stuff unless you’re actually interested. I’ve had so many people go “oh, that sounds so cool! Where can I check it out?” and the like, and it’s hard not to notice when they then just…don’t check it out. I’d honestly far prefer that people just be honest. We writers know that not every story is for every reader, so support your writer friends with your honesty.

4. What’s a common misconception about being a writer that you’d like to correct?

boneturtle: One misconception about being a writer I’d like to correct is the idea that you have to be inherently talented to be a writer. This is just not true. People come to it with different backgrounds and skill levels, but ultimately writing is a craft that you can learn and improve with practice, not an inborn talent. What separates writers from non-writers is that writers write. That’s it. If you have a story you want to tell, and you’re willing to see it through from start to finish, then you’re a writer, too.

Shannon: I’m sure there’s someone out there who still thinks that writers are rich. The folks on the bestseller list are generally not bringing in millions unless they’re the very rare exceptions

Robin S. Blackwood: I think the biggest misconception is the idea that suffering is a key aspect of being a writer/will make you a better writer. From outside the community this idea can be very blatant, that you can only be a good writer if you’re miserable (especially if you write about bad things happening, some think you need to have lived through it), but from inside the community it, in my experience, tends to be take a different form – that you shouldn’t expect to ever have fun writing, if you have fun writing you’re not taking it seriously enough, if you like your own work you’re probably just not good enough to spot the flaws – the idea that if someone wrote a thing and thinks it’s good it’s probably awful and they’re childish and silly, because a real writer would hate every word of their own writing and be miserable about it all. Like, obviously writing isn’t easy and can be slow and difficult, and obviously editing your work and improving your work does involve noticing things that need improvement, you probably won’t develop as a writer if you think all your first drafts are flawless masterpieces, but at the end of the day….if you’re miserable throughout the process and hate the result maybe you should take a break or something, because it’s not meant to be like that?

boneturtle: I do want to say that on the flip side the writer you describe is still out there, because that’s me. I don’t think I’m more or less real because I hate everything I write, I just think of it as a handicap I have to work around to produce my work. Whether it’s meant to be that way or not isn’t really something for me to dwell on because that’s just how it is.

Robin S. Blackwood: That’s fair and I’m sorry you have that difficulty – as you say though it’s a thing some people struggle with, but it’s not like…something people should try and make themselves feel to be a real writer – I hope I didn’t come across as saying that writers who don’t like their work are bad writers, I know some great writers who don’t have a lot of confidence in their work and had no intention of saying any individual’s feelings about their work are wrong, it’s more when it becomes a widespread expectation in a community that this is the only right attitude to have I’ve found it can cause some issues

boneturtle: Absolutely, I agree with you 100%. Thinking that you’re more valid because you suffer is a pernicious stereotype in art. I just wanted to make sure that the perspective from the other side was also noted; there’s no shame in feeling that way. It’s just a thing that happens, unrelated to your merit.

#duck prints press #roundtable #round table #be kind to authors and editors month #be kind to editors and authors month #on writing

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oldiesstationlover11607 · 3 months ago

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🎶Oh my God, we’re back again🎶

Well hello….it’s 💛. You said that my requests make you happy and that you don’t mind them so I have returned. By the way, if this ever changes, do not hesitate to tell me. Even if you just don’t want to write TØP anymore. I’m a fan of a lot of fandoms you appear to write for, so I’d probably be able to request other things (again, only if you don’t mind me doing so). For what it’s worth, your stories are the highlight of my day. I frequently reread them when I’m feeling down or in need of an escape.

Alright, enough with my sappiness. You know that meme of the girl explaining something to her mom and the mom is just like 😐 (google “Me explaining to my mom meme” and it should be the first pic that shows up)? I was thinking that a fun story would be Josh trying (and maybe failing) to explain TØP lore to the reader. It doesn’t have to go super in depth to things by any means. I just can imagine that such a scenario has happened before and, quite honestly, half the time I don’t even know the lore. As always, if you hate this idea, no pressure to do it. ❤️❤️

Lore - Josh Dun x Reader

Pairing: Josh x Reader

Warnings: None :)

Word Count: 1374

A/N: I love that you re-read my stuff. It makes me so happy that it’s the highlight of your day. Getting your requests is the highlight of mine, writing helps me relax at the end of the day-especially with how rough it is being in senior year (I’m in the southern hemisphere and finish school late November so exams are imminent 😭). I actually re-read some of mine quite a bit. Honestly I’m so proud of the number 16 cotton candy. The way part 2 ended made me want to cry - I believe I ATE that if I do say so myself 🙌. It makes me want to add more parts, like the reader watching Clancy perform on Good Day Dema and seeing how upset/zoned out he looks and being hurt by it, the conversations they have after reuniting, more of that series’ torchbearer bc he’s funny af, and more! Literally love this request btw bc I tried explaining the lore to my mom and she pulled the exact face in the meme.

Tyler and Josh were always on social media. It had always been a key part of their relationship with the clique, and I’d noticed it more and more when they started tagging me in memes and pictures that I didn’t know the meanings of.

“Josh?” I asked. We were sitting on the couch under a blanket in our apartment, the weather outside cold and rainy. Josh looked down at me, I’d planted myself in his lap, my head resting perfectly on his thighs while the rest of my body stretched out across the couch.

“Yeah?” I brought my phone up to his face.

“What’s a forest fic and why are the clique tagging me in memes saying you don’t exist?” His face dropped, mouth open wide in shock. “Tyler reposted something about it earlier and I don't get it.” He said nothing, the silence in the room growing with every second. “What?” I could tell he was trying to frame a way to tell me the truth, surely it wasn’t that bad.

“It’s a uh….uhhhh, like a fan fiction. And like….uhhh… I’m like not real in it… like a figment of Tyler’s imagination. Uhh and then a treehouse burns down THE END,” he mumbled, stumbling through the words and giving the worst plot description I’d ever heard. I was still confused. “That’s all you will EVER need to know… no need to look it up or mention it ever again.” He flashed me a quick smile before going back to his phone. I sat there for a few moments trying to understand his words before continuing.

“But how is that relevant to whatever Tyler posted this morning?”

He let out a loud sigh, telling me I was starting to get on his nerves. He put down his phone and properly sat up, giving me his full attention.

“It’s related to the lore of the new album, the whole Dema thing,” he explained. I knew that over the last few albums the boys had been telling some big story but that it was too complex to just google and learn about in five minutes.

“Like how your character is the Torchbearer?” I asked and he nodded in response. “But how is that related to you not existing?”

“Do you really want me to explain the whole lore to you?” he laughed.

“Yeah, I guess today’s the day.”

Josh had tried to explain everything as clearly as he could but it still didn’t make any sense. He explained that he was called the Torchbearer–which I’d proudly already known–and that Tyler was called Clancy. He also said that Clancy was trying to escape Dema because of the Bishops–I still didn’t really understand the concept of the Bishops… or Dema for that matter.

“Wait, wait, wait, so you’re saying that there’s like… nine different Bishops?” I asked, trying to get my head around it.

Josh nodded, “And they’re in charge of different sectors of Dema where the citizens live.”

“If I’m being 100% honest, I have no idea where we are on the timeline or what the difference between Trench and Dema is,” I laughed. Josh covered his eyes and shook his head. He grabbed his phone, sending off a couple of texts before continuing trying to explain the lore. After about an hour, we both had our computers out, Josh was on the clique side of reddit and I was taking notes, typing frantically. A loud knock sounded from the door and I got up to answer it. It was Tyler, standing in the doorway with a large blanket with ‘twenty one pilots’ printed on it, snacks–including my favorite candy, the mask he’d worn during all the Clancy promotional stuff, a roll of yellow tape, and a stuffed animal which looked like a fat goat.

“Where’s Josh? I heard there was an emergency and I came prepared,” he spoke, running inside and jumping on the couch next to my boyfriend. Closing the door I chuckled to myself and walked back over to the boys. “Josh said you wanted to learn the lore.”

“Well I tried explaining it to her myself but she wasn’t getting it,” Josh claimed.

“That’s because you don’t get the lore yourself, come on,” Tyler laughed. He grabbed Josh’s computer and switched the tab to YouTube. “To start with, watch this.” He started playing the band’s ‘The Story’ playlist which featured all of the lore-related music videos. We started with Heavy Dirty Soul–which I’d seen before–and then went on to watch the videos from Trench.

“Okay so Tyler’s character, Clancy, basically tries escaping Dema but then gets taken back. Josh’s character, the Torchbearer, is in charge of the Banditos–the rebellion group–and gets Tyler–sorry Clancy out of the city and takes him to the camp but then he gets captured again?”

Tyler nodded, confirming my understanding. We continued watching the music videos till we got to ‘The Outside’. Josh pulled out the stuffed animal and passed it to me before pressing play. I watched the video, Josh leading Tyler through an island and into a cave. A small gremlin with black eyes, gray horns, and white fur popped onto the screen, the exact same creature the stuffed animal was modeled off of. He jumped about the dark cave mysteriously, leading Tyler to a larger group of them. “Oh my god what is that thing?” I moved into Josh, cuddling up to him, completely stunned at this creature who was both cute and terrifying at the same time.

“It’s Ned,” he smiled, “it stands for Neuro-Expansion Device.” I nodded and continued to watch the video. Tyler had gotten the horns from Ned and was able to control the dead bishop I’d learned to be Keons. When we finally reached Navigating, Josh paused the video. “This is the video those instagram memes were referring to, the ones Tyler has been reposting.” Tyler pressed play and we sat through the entire thing. The song was catchy and the video showed Josh leading Tyler through the forest and back into Trench after leaving the island Vøldsoy. What I didn’t expect was for Josh’s character to be a figment of Tyler’s imagination and the real Torchbearer to be the Bandito one from the Trench videos.

“WHAT?!” I gasped, “NO WAY.” There was no way this whole time the Torchbearer was not there for Clancy. I wanted to cry from how sad it was and I had to find out how the story ended. “Wait so what happens next?”

Tyler sat up and put the computer away, “Well basically we have another music video for Paladin Strait but that’s not coming out for a while. We’ve also got some lore stuff planned for the tour so I’ve got to finalize that soon too.”

I nodded listening to everything he was saying and trying to remember the few follow up questions I had. “So, the bishops,” I started.

“Yeah, what about them?” Josh asked, wrapping his arms around me.

“So I get that Keons and Nico are the main ones but what about the others? Like what kind of a name is Nills?” Tyler laughed loudly, bringing a hand up to his chest.

“They’re from the songs off Blurryface, like Sacarver, “she’s a carver,” he explained.

“Oh so you went through the lyrics and highlighted things that sounded vaguely like names?” Josh seemed to find that hilarious because he nearly fell off the couch. Tyler however, found it less funny and rolled his eyes.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today,” he got up and packed up the blanket. “You can keep the Ned by the way.” I grinned and cuddled him closer to me.

“Thanks for the help Tyler,” Josh held me against his chest.

“No worries,” he smiled before leaving the apartment. Josh and I were left to ourselves, the rain still pattered on the roof and I could hear the occasional grumble of thunder.

“So Torchbearer, what’s the plan for dinner?” I asked, getting up off the couch. I got up, put away all the snacks and drinks while Josh folded up our blankets.

“You’re never going to stop calling me that are you?” he laughed.

“What’s that? I can’t see you, maybe you’re not really here.”

Hopefully this is good, I wasn't too sure about it but I think it's worth publishing. I'm so glad that I have 💛 anon bc their requests are awesome and I love hearing their feedback. I felt guilty last night about declining a Joshler fic but bc of 💛 saying I should write what I want it felt okay.

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hermesserpent-stuff · 18 days ago

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spoilers for caged spade au remy and rogue meet!!!!!

romance is something Im reallllllllllyyy not good at so here's my best meet cute i can manage!

Remy bounces a little as he stands in line. He knows that he is a little too excited for this book release. But he had been reading Austin Jaques, a famous gothic writer, for years and had been ecstatic to hear that his latest novel would be set in New Orleans. He is excited to compare what the writer has to say about vampires to what he now knows to be true from living in the graveyard of a holy coven. And to see if his beloved city is represented correctly. He had convinced Creed to let him join the line while the man when off to get hot chocolate. Which is a little nice. He normally loves having Creed right there as back up, but sometimes it is a little nice to be separated and get some breathing room.

He can still feel Creed through the empathic link, the man currently feeling a mix of amusement and boredom. Must be taking a while for a reason.

Remy tilts his head a little, adjusting his sunglasses as he looks about. The girl in front of him shifts a bit head turning to the side to watch a truck go down the road and then she rubs her arms. Oh. shes pretty. And it looks like she had come alone to the event. Remy shifts a little awkwardly on his feet and then decides to bite the bullet. He wants to talk to more people and talking to a pretty mademoiselle is worth his time. Now… what to say, something not too intrusive but easy to spring a conversation from.

“Excuse me miss?”

Her shoulders tense as she turns and he can see the stance of a fighter coming through. Not obvious to everyone, but obvious to anyone who had experience. He makes a small waving motion while smiling and tilting his head, trying to show how little of a threat he is to her.

“I love your earrings, mademoiselle.”

“Oh, uh, thanks! I got them a week ago.”

She touches the crescent moon that is hanging low from her left ear.

“They go well with your boots.”

“Thanks.”

She smiles a bit at the additional complement, fight stance fading slightly.

“So, Austin Jaques, good writer, non? Got a favorite book in the series?”

Only people who enjoyed the man's writing would be willing to stand in line alone, so it should be a safe question.

“Oh, uh yeah. Midnight Heist. It was a really good plot. The twist was really well done. You?”

Remy nods. That book had a good twist that was perfectly set up so that rereads made it even stronger.

“That ones definitely top ten. I really enjoy Moon Stones. Dealing with the horror of all your falures to create as an artist coming back as monstrocities was interesting.”

She nods. They chat back and forth and shift to be standing side by side in the line rather than infront and behind.

“Im Rogue by the way.”

“Remy! Nice to meet you.”

They move on from talking about the books to sharing favorite songs and texting recommendations back and forth to be listened to in full later. Remy barely registers that he got her number, so wrapped up in talking to her and trying to keep that smile that makes her whole face light up right going.

Then Creed returns and Remy happily greets him. He sees Rogue tense and Creed sniffs the air. Remy grabs his arm and pats it.

“This is Creed, hes my papa.”

No one else could claim that title now. Creed straightens a little and Remy relizes that he might never have said that allowed before. Remy feels joy swirling across the link and grins.

“Creed, this is Rogue! My new friend.”

Creed looks her up and down and then nods.

“Hi. Dont mess with my pack and I won't mess with yours.”

“Yeah? You gonna stick to that?”i

Remy frowns and shoots her a look.

“Hey, there be no need for this. We all peacefully in line. Creed, she been real nice to me so far. And Rogue, this is my family… We can all be okay? Oui?”

He feels a tinge of desperation, his heart starting to beat louder. Creed chuffs and nuzzles the side of his head.

“Yeah yeah. Not gonna do nothin’ kitten.”

He passes Remy the hot chocolate and after a second, gives the other to Rogue, a peace offering that seems to work.

#hermes speaks #caged spade au #remy lebeau #rogue #rogue xmen #x men #victor creed #sabretooth

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frenziedslashers · 2 years ago

Text

The Supply Closet:

Warnings: Porn without plot, Rick is a slut, biting, PinV sex, transmasc reader because I say so, but it could be interpreted as just a Fem reader ig, lmk if I need to add anything more! This got a little carried away, it gets sorta sappy at the end.

Pairings: Rick x FTM!Reader

People who wanted tagged: @flufpufpuf @lanamiller @immortal-velociraptor @quicksilversg1rl

A/N: I tried to reread and proofread so I apologize for spelling mistakes! Also, apologies if this is messy, I originally wrote it at 3am and just went through and tried to make sentences flow more. I feel like my writing has been slackin' lately.

Prompt I found and CANNOT stop thinking about: “care to explain what exactly I did that caused you, after ignoring my advances for over two months, to have sex with me in a random supply closet?”

REQUEST INFO || TWD MASTERLIST

Rick had been fighting with himself since the moment he saw you, but the weeks here at the prison only felt so much worse. You helped him any chance you could. Supply runs, guard watch, watching Judith and Carl, with the garden, he couldn't stand how much he liked you. The thought of maybe even loving you. It scared him, yet excited him all at once. It had been so long since he had someone to actually call his own.

Sure, he did have Lori, but that died the moment Shane manipulated her and pulled her from his grasp. She was a victim of his best friend's manipulation, and he knew that. Yet, he still couldn't love her after he realized she didn't love him the same. Their love died the moment the apocalypse started. The moment Shane convinced her that he was dead.

Now, all he could think about was you. How beautiful and contagious your smile was. The way you carried yourself through the crowd of people that inhabited the prison. The way you softly moaned when you stretched your arms above your head. He wanted you so bad, it hurt.

"Rick, mind helping me with something? I was gonna go on a supply run with Beth and Zach, but they've gotta stay back and help Maggie and Glenn with something," you spoke, and he couldn't feel more excited over the offer. Smiling softly towards you while nodding. "Yeah, 'course, just in town?" You nodded, "Yeah, gonna look for some more food and medicine. Maybe we can find you some candy," you winked, and he felt his stomach churn. Fighting to keep his feet still and not step closer to you. "Sounds like a plan, let me go tell Carl where I'm goin' and I'll meet you at the car." You nodded, heading for the vehicle and he parted the other way.

You drove yourself and Rick into the nearest town. Rick's eyes every so often glance over to look over your body. The way you sit slack in the driver's seat, one hand on the wheel, the other sitting on the center console. "You ever driven stick?" he asked, and you raised a brow, glancing at him through your peripherals. Noticing his eyes were on your hand that rested between the both of you.

You smiled softly as you averted your eyes back to the road. "No, never, why?" He shrugged, "Well, most people I knew that drove with just their left hand drove manual. That's why I drive that way," he spoke, trying to keep up a conversation. You chuckled lightly at the comment. "Yeah? I always wanted to learn. Never got the chance to. Even if this apocalypse didn't go down, I still probably would have never learned. Never had the time." He nodded, "I could teach ya, if we ever find a manual." You smiled at his offer, turning to pull up to a building since you had both reached your destination. "I'd love that, Rick," his smile only seemed to grow at that. Watching as you shut off the car and pocketed the keys. The both of you grabbed your weapons before climbing out of the car.

Rick stayed close to your side. Each of you walking in silence for a moment before reaching the back shelves. Scanning over the medical supplies that were left behind. His eyes drifted to your hands when he noticed you reached for a box of condoms to throw into the basket in his hand. Staring down at them with curious eyes. "You seein' someone?" He asked, and he hated that he asked. That shouldn't be any of his business, but he wanted to know.

When he noticed how shocked you looked by his words he nearly regretted asking. "What?" He was preparing for you to yell at him, but he was met with a laugh. "Me? Seeing someone? Rick, you're funny," you chuckled, going back to grabbing bandages and anti-inflammatories. "Maggie asked me to grab some for her and Glenn. Smart on her behalf, I'd hate being pregnant in this day and age." You chuckled, and Rick nodded. "Thought maybe you took a likin' to one of the newcomers," he chuckled, and you sighed. Dropping a handful of supplies into the basket before stepping around the corner to some other shelves. Just gazing over the items for anything good. "Nah, not me. Got my eye on somebody else, anyways," you muttered, briefly looking up to meet his gaze through the shelf with a soft smile, and he just stared.

Rick had no idea how to take what you were saying. He couldn't tell if you were implying that he knew who you were talking about. Or if he was who you were talking about. His heart raced in his chest and his body went numb. "Maybe I could meet this... Person. Make sure they're good enough for ya." You smiled more at his words before continuing your walk down the aisle. "Maybe," you hummed, picking up your pace when you saw some boxes in the corner of the room. Dropping to your knees in order to cut them open with your knife. You could tell they were for restocking and were hopeful it was something useful.

The gasp you let out had Rick racing around the corner. Eyes wide, worried that maybe you saw something that scared you. "Holy shit! Carl is gonna piss himself, look at this!" You shouted, waving him over, and Rick smiled. He loved how much you thought about his kids. Taking a few steps forward in order to meet you on the ground, peering into the box.

He saw a mix of books and comics in one box, and an array of junk food in the next box. "We gotta take these with us, he and I could read some of these books to Judith. Or Beth, I'm sure she'd love to," you added, and Rick nodded, but he didn't say anything. He was too in awe at the thought of you looking over his kids the way you did.

He wasn't even paying attention to you. When you stood his eyes were staring through you, zoned out in thought. You went to say something but lost balance of your footing, falling forward with a sharp inhale. One of your hands reached out to brace yourself on his thigh. The touch definitely worked at ripping him from his thoughts.

He was quick to look down at you. Your eyes shot up to his with a look that screamed 'sorry.' His hands braced himself with the wall beside him to keep the both of you from colliding with the floor. His eyes admired the way you looked knelt before him, your hand squeezing at his thigh, he couldn't take it anymore. He finally, after months of thinking about it, let his mind act out the way that he wanted it to.

You had apologized before, but it was ignored. The Sheriff already pulling you off the floor by your wrists. His expression was nearly blank, unable for you to read. You had no idea what to expect, bracing yourself for the worst. "Rick, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," "Shut up," he muttered before smashing his lips against your own.

You had no idea how you were supposed to act, or what you should even do at that moment. Your hands braced themselves on his chest this time, but you were quick to melt into the kiss. A kiss you had both craved for a long time.

The both of you shuffled back. Rick pushed you towards the closet near the both of you before pushing you inside it. Parting momentarily to make sure it was clear before shoving you inside. Stalking towards you with a look in his eyes that you had never seen before. His eyes danced with a mix of love and adoration.

His hand reached out to run his knuckles over the side of your face lovingly. Blue eyes dart from place to place on your face. "I don't know how I lived without you," he muttered, and you wanted to make fun of his corny line, but he didn't let you.

He was quick to pin you back against the wall inside the tightly spaced closet the moment that door was shut behind the both of you. His body flushed with your own while his lips came crashing down on yours. It was near unbearable with how hot it was. A mix of the Georgia heat and the heat that radiated off both of your bodies. Your hands were quick to work at one another's clothes. "Wanted this for so long," he muttered as his lips trailed down your jaw to your throat. "Me too," you gulped, and that only seemed to make him want you more.

Your head was spinning with how dazed you felt. You couldn't believe any of this was happening. A sharp inhale entered your lungs when he lifted one of your thighs with his hand to grind against you. The moan that left his throat was enough to have you moaning in response. "Rick, please," you muttered, and he nodded, nose tickling against the skin on your neck.

He was fast to unbuckle his belt. His shirt was already unbuttoned and open for your hands to explore - your own shirt pulled over your head and set on the shelf beside your head in case you needed to grab it real quick. Once the buttons of his pants were undone he was pulling them down to his thighs in order to reveal himself. Your own hands working at undoing your own pants, but you weren't quick enough for him. Nothing was fast enough for him. He needed to feel you now.

His hands tugged your pants down your thighs just like his own, and you were about to pull them down further, but he stopped you. Pulling them down for you and grabbing your thighs to hoist you up the moment you kicked them off. Your shoulders ground against the drywall with a hiss. "Rick," you spoke with a groan, but he knew what he was doing. Tossing your ankles over his shoulders with strong hands so he could position himself, blue eyes darting up to meet your own.

Even in the dark you could see the question and worry behind his eye. "Ya sure this is okay? I didn't read the room wrong, did I?" He asked, and you sighed, a little frustrated that he wasn't inside of you already. "Rick, just fuck me before I get bored," "What about the person you have eyes for?" He asked, and you felt your body heat up. "They're pinning me against a wall right now," you spoke, a soft moan leaving your lips when his thumb brushed over your clit, his other hand reaching behind him to fish the condom he snuck into his back pocket out. "Well, ain't they a lucky man," he smirked, and you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't say anything in response since his digit was still rubbing rough circles over your bud. Head falling back with soft sighs and pants. "Rick, please, stop the teasing," you muttered, and he nodded, leaning in to kiss your collarbone after he got the condom unpackaged and rolled onto his dick. "Anything for you, darlin'," he cooed. "But this teasin', it ain't nothin' compared to what I could do. Yer just lucky I want this as bad as you," he snarled in your ear, nipping at the skin beneath it.

You had half the mind to challenge his words, but you didn't. You couldn't wait any longer. Plus, no need to have people think you both died out here when Rick was just pounding you in an appliance store.

Your breathing hitched when he pressed the head of his dick inside you. Tears prick at your eyes. The one that rolled down your cheek as he pushed inside he was quick to kiss away. "Shh, I got ya," he murmured, going slow as he entered you. Rick groaned into your ear as he kissed your shoulder. "Shit, haven't done this in a bit," he chuckled, and you let out a breathy laugh yourself. Your forehead resting on his shoulder. "Don't think I've done it since before all this," You commented, and he laughed lightly. "I'll be sure t'go easy on ya," He commented, and you nodded, kissing the junction of his neck and shoulder. Leaving a small mark on the side of his throat that made him groan.

The moment that you rolled your hips he couldn't help but roll his back. The both of you let out a soft moan at the sensations that sparked through your bodies. "Holy hell," he muttered against your shoulder, and you sighed. "Move."

You didn't have to tell him twice, he was too far into the act to be asking over and over again if what he was doing was all right. He was certain that if you didn't like something, then you would tell him. His hands grab at your thighs in order to get a better angle. Hips thrusting in and out of you while huffs and puffs left his lips. His eyes half-lidded, staring back into yours while he fucked you against the wall of the closet. His knees even wobbled a little from how good you just happened to make him feel. He'd make sure if the both of you did this again - when, you both did this again - you would both be in a bed.

When you asked him to go harder, he was a little hesitant. His eyes looked you over with a questioning gaze to make sure you were serious. The moment you reached to grab the back of his head and slam his lips against yours while growling out "now." He was no longer reluctant. His hips pulled back and snapped at a force that had you sliding further up the wall. Having to cling to him in order to make sure that you wouldn't get too far away from him.

His hips kept up a fast and rough pace. Hitting a spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. Heavy breaths leave both of you at the sensation. "Shit, ya feel heavenly," he moaned, leaning down to press a bruising kiss against your lips again before moving down to suck on your collarbone and the front of your throat a bit more. "God, never thought I'd get ya like this," his accent only seemed thicker in the heat of the moment. Squeezing around him with a moan.

You tugged at his hair again, which only seemed to make his hips fuck into you at an ungodly pace. "Rick, 'm close," you slurred, and he nodded, pulling back up to meet your lips for another kiss. "Jus' let go," He murmured, his hand coming in between the both of you to rub your clit and that was it for you. Snapping the coil in your stomach as it came undone. A cry ripped from your throat that only bled into his mouth. Rick's own hips stuttered while his pace faltered as your walls clenched around him. "Holy hell, handsome, gonna, fuck," He couldn't even finish his sentence before his hips were bucking into you. Fucking you further up the wall with his final thrusts into you. Finally reaching his orgasm, riding it out within you.

His forehead was against yours for a while. Neither of you really knew how long you both were slumped against the wall coming down for your highs. Rick finally pulled himself out of you, both of you cringing at the sensation. “Care to explain what exactly I did that caused you, after ignoring my advances for over two months, to have sex with me in a random supply closet?” you questioned as he put your legs back on the ground. Helping you pull your pants back up after you nearly toppled on top of him. He furrowed his brow at your question, though. "Two months?" He was in disbelief. You hadn't been coming onto him for that long, had you?

You chuckled, fingers reaching forward to pull his boxers and jeans back up his body after he removed the condom. The action made him grunt. "Yeah, ever since I asked you to take night guard with me nearly two months ago. Maggie was right, you are oblivious, idiot." You spoke, leaning forward to press your lips against his. Both of you smiled into the kiss as he held your hips.

"Well," he murmured against your lips, pulling back to kiss your forehead. "Guess Maggies not gonna be the only one receiving condoms this supply run," He added, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. "Cause I gotta make up for those two months and more," he added with a grin, and you felt your body heat up at the comment. Smiling back at the man while wrapping your arms around his neck. "Sounds like a lucky guy," you cooed, and he chuckled, his hands resting on your ass in order to pull you closer. "No, I'm the lucky one," he hummed, leaning back down to kiss you once more.

The both of you eventually parted from one another in the supplies closet. Rick peaking out after you were both fully dressed. "It's clear," he muttered, glancing back at you with a smile that you were happy to return. "Glad to hear it," you cooed, your fingers dancing with his own as the both of you headed back for the supply. Only pulling away to grab the supplies to take back for the car. Each having to make a couple trips back for the boxes and the other supplies you each found.

It wasn't until you were in the drivers seat, and Rick was back in the passenger seat that you noticed the way he was looking at you. Rick had never imagined that he would be with someone as amazing as you. You were smart, strong, you had this power to keep moving no matter how tough times got. He admired you for more than just your looks - those were simply just a plus.

You shifted a little uncomfortable under his gaze. Pulling the keys from your pocket with a sigh. It was a surprise that they had not fallen out during the supply closet fiasco. "What?" you finally blurted, and he only smiled more, shaking his head. "I missed you before I even had you." You furrowed your brows, looking over at him as you started the engine. "What?" You asked again, backing out of the parking spot before heading back for the Prison.

He sighed through his nose, reaching out to grab your hand with a sigh. He brushed his thumb over the skin on your knuckles with a sigh. "I'm not really sure how to explain it. It's just like... Like maybe I knew you before. I knew who I wanted to be with, someone like you, so..." He reached up with his other hand to rub his chin with a small smile. "So even in this fucked up world, I was brought to you." You felt your heart swell in your chest, it nearly ached. Glancing over at Rick again with a cheeky grin. "Rick," you hummed, and he hummed back. "Had anyone ever told you that you have quite a way with words?" He chuckled, pulling your hand up to his lips to give it a kiss. "You'd be the first, darlin'," you smiled. You hoped you'd be the only one he talked to like that from now on, too.

#rick Grimes x reader #rick grimes #the walking dead #rick Grimes smut #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead smut #twd smut

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