#(( I'm here I'm here I'm here *running in late with starbucks* ))
Text
phone time
summery - you and satoru have been together for a long time now, like really long. next week marks your nine year anniversary, actually, and your friends think that it's a bit weird that you two are not doing anything special on that day.
contains: fem reader, fluff/crack, utahime being in your business, gossip, meimei hate, suggestive joke at the end
"we were thinking about going shopping with mei mei this weekend, you want to come with us?" utahime asked you as you stepped into the living room after leaving the kitchen. it took you a second to answer her, as your attention was focused on the tray in your hands. you really didn't want to risk one of the three cups of hot coffee spilling over and doing a mess. as well as getting a third-degree burn.
when the tray finally touched the small table, you got around to answering. "i don't know. i've been spending too much money lately." you admitted, making yourself comfortable on the soft carpet. sitting across from the sofa also helped the conversation flow more smoothly. "i would still come just to hang out with you guys, but you know i don't like meimei that much..."
shoko was about to add something when gojo interrupted her. "you can just take my card, you know. and meimei isn't much of a talker anyway. you should go if you feel like it." he suggested from his position on the pastel pink armchair. "you can also go to starbucks together. they should have pumpkin space latte on the menu again now that it's fall."
you thought about the proposal once more at his argument while holding your cup in your hands. the girls on the other side sent disgusted looks to the man. even though he spoke in their favor, they weren't really interested in hearing his input. "and why are you still here? i thought you told your crusty boyfriend to leave for a few hours." utahime complained to you.
"and i did." you replied and sensed the mean looks he gave you when you didn't correct her after she described him as crusty. you just shook your head to signal him that she didn't know what she was talking about. "weren't you gonna meet up with suguru?" you asked him, looking in his direction.
i can't believe i'm getting kicked out of my own place. he leaned a little deeper in his seat at that thought, but didn't really mind since it was you who asked him to. he wasn't really authorized to participate in girl talk and was, to be honest, a bit butt hurt about it. he would do anything to participate in a session. "we are. that asshole is running late, so i would be very grateful if you ladies could show me some mercy and let me wait inside since it's like two degrees outside."
you raised an eyebrow at his wording and spoke up with a grin after taking a sip. "what's the matter, elsa? can't handle the cold?"
satoru just rolled his eyes. "i can't wait until it starts snowing. doesn't it ever get boring? making the same jokes over and over again."
you pretended to give his question serious thought until you finally answered. "no, not really."
utahime watched the interaction between you with a furrowed brow. "i can't believe you two are a couple." she finally said, abruptly changing the subject. "you just don't act coupley at all."
shoko disagreed. "what does that even mean? they've been together for like forever."
it felt a little strange to gojo that she was kind of supportive of your relationship right now. she wasn't really, but it felt that way to him, and he was happy about it and agreed with her. "exactly. that is a heavy accusations you're throwing in the room, that i'm not going to tolerate. i would literally die for my girlfriend, which is like the bare minimum, i know. but still." he spoke in a completely serious voice.
you hummed in support of him. "yeah, i mean men are meant to die in war anyway, so it's good that you know."
there. you guys were doing it again. "that's what i'm talking about. nothing about how you behave with each other is romantic in the slightest way." she said, a little disappointed. "i've also never seen you kiss or heard that you're going on dates. i mean, do you even have anything planned for your anniversary?" she continued to enumerate, getting seriously worried.
you didn't take her worry serious since you did all these things in private. you just preferred it that way. "we live together, and we spend a lot of quality time together. just because we don't call everything a date doesn't mean we never do anything as a couple." you retorted, and satoru supported what you said with adding period. "i've been a little lazy lately due to it getting so cold again, and i don't feel like doing anything extravagant because it just mentally exhausts me on top with work. so we'll probably just chill and have some phone time in the evening." you answered her question about your anniversary. maybe you would get satoru a little gift like flowers. yeah, he liked getting flowers. you mentally made a note to look on the internet for some with a nice meaning.
shoko repeated questioningly. "phone time?" somehow, she imagined it to be something very strange.
"yeah, you know." satoru began, although the two had no idea what you two were talking about. "lying in bed. scrolling on social media - mostly tiktok. showing funny or stupid videos to each other and laughing about it."
you raised an index finger to add. "or cat videos." you reminisced about some silly trends in the past. "i kind of miss dabloon cat..."
so the two are just some sort of ipad kids.
"that's pretty weird, actually. you two are weird." said utahime in conclusion, not knowing what else to say.
you just rolled your eyes as you took another sip of your coffee. "last time i checked, you were single."
a sigh escaped her at the remark. "well, i can't argue against that. my dating life has been drier than a desert lately..."
at that, a slight giggle escaped satoru's lips, reminding you all that he was indeed still present in the room. "you know what's not dry after i - "
"satoru."
"what? just because she doesn't see us kiss doesn't mean that we don't do it."
#female reader#jjk satoru#jjk#jjk x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo saturo#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#fanfic drabble#utahime iori#shoko ieiri#crack fic#jujutsu kaisen#satoru x you#x reader
547 notes
·
View notes
Text
Adult Education Part 5 | Hangman x OC
Summary: Jessica knows she should just head home for the night, but Jake's sincerity keeps her at Chippy's. He tries to secure a second date and her still elusive phone number as he learns bit by bit just how sweet she can be.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, eventually 18+
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC
This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
There was a first time for everything. At least that's how the saying went. Jessica had never been stood up before. But it was the fact that she was completely blindsided by it that really got to her.
It was 7:34. Jake was more than thirty minutes late. He wasn't coming. She had been stringing him along for too long without giving him her phone number. Or maybe she really was just as dull as she thought she was. Regardless, she was going to have to stand up from her table and walk back past the bar and out the front door. Alone. She recognized two of her students sitting a few tables over, and she wanted to cry. Doing this pathetic walk of shame out of Chippy's would be enough to have her in tears on the drive home. She just knew it.
"Shit," she muttered to herself as she slid off of her stool so her heels clicked against the dirty floor. She adjusted her glasses with the backs of her fingers and then picked up the journals she brought with her along with her purse. Then she tried to keep her face neutral as she nodded at Chippy who looked extremely displeased behind the bar.
"Night, Reedy," he murmured as she walked past. She wished she could reach the big trash can from this side of the bar, because what sane woman keeps giving a hot man scientific journals all the time? She'd throw them away in the dumpster near where she parked. And then she would go home and reevaluate just how she managed to mess this whole thing up in the analytical way her mind wanted her to.
She skirted past her students and pushed the door open to the cool, evening air and the sounds of traffic. She managed to let out the breath she had been holding, but now the tears were right there, and she was hoping to get home before they spilled over.
"Jessica!"
She knew it was Jake. She knew his voice. She also knew she couldn't run to her car in high heels fast enough before he caught up with her. So she turned toward his voice and waited on the sidewalk as he rushed toward her.
He looked like a mess with grease stains on his jeans. His hair was disheveled, and he was all sweaty. "I'm sorry I'm late," he panted, out of breath with his hands on his hips and his head tipped back as he gasped for air.
She wasn't sure what to make of him like this. She didn't know if she even wanted to try. "I'm just going to head home," she replied softly, taking a step in the opposite direction. "It's already 7:40."
His eyes looked desperate when they met hers. "Fuck!" he grunted under his breath, broad chest rising and falling rapidly. "Stay? Please? Just let me get you one drink? And we can talk?" He was so handsome, she desperately wanted to cave and still spend the rest of the night drinking cheap beers and eating peanuts with him.
"Why are you late?" Jessica asked, adjusting her glasses. "I thought you were looking forward to Chippy's." She kind of shrugged like she was already expecting some stupid excuse, and then Jake brought his hand up to her cheek and brushed her hair back with his fingers.
"My truck was in the shop last week, and it appears to be having problems again. Once it stalled out and I couldn't get it started again, I just left it and ran here. Because I have absolutely been looking forward to Chippy's. And you look beautiful, by the way," he drawled softly, fingers tangled with her hair as his breathing evened out.
"Where did you leave your truck?" she asked, leaning slightly into his touch.
"By the Starbucks on Collier Avenue," he replied softly, green eyes fixed on hers.
Then Jessica gasped. "That's like five miles away!"
"Mmhmm," he hummed. "I should have just left it there as soon as it died, but I tried to mess with it first. That's why I'm so late. I'm sorry."
"Oh." She didn't know what else to say. He ran five miles to get here.
"Yeah. Oh," he said with an edge to his voice. "I emailed your university account, but I figured you don't check it after you're done working for the night. And I still don't have your phone number, or I would have called you immediately."
Jessica felt warmth in her cheeks as Jake closed the distance between them like he was going to kiss her. "If you give me another chance and your phone number, I'll buy a new car before our next date to guarantee I'm on time. Or I can just leave early enough to run the whole way."
She giggled softly. "You're funny, Jake."
He just shook his head and said, "I'm pretty serious right now, Reedy." Then his gaze dipped down to her lips, and Jessica could tell he wanted to kiss her. His fingertips were still gently tangled in some strands of her hair. His body was warm as he crowded her against the outside of the bar, and she was flattered that he ran to get to her.
"You must be thirsty after all that running," she whispered, tugging on the collar of his shirt.
He turned his head so his lips brushed along her knuckles, and she gasped as he said, "I'm thirsty for more than beer or water, Jess. But I'd still love to take you inside and get some drinks and some peanuts."
And then she found herself nodding and leading him toward the door.
----------------------------
The bartender was glaring at Jake as soon as he held the door open for Jessica, and it just intensified when he let his hand rest on her lower back. "Reedy?" the other man called out, absolutely scowling as he let his fist rest on the bartop.
"It's okay, Chippy," she replied, glancing up at Jake as she walked toward the only empty table in the dive bar.
"The bartender is actually Chippy himself? The man, the legend?" Jake asked softly as he pulled out one of the stools for Jessica and watched her set her journals and cute little purse on the table.
When she slid onto the seat and crossed her legs, she said, "Yes. Don't mess with Chippy. That man was nice to me when nobody else was."
Jake studied her pretty face as she adjusted her glasses. "Who in their right mind wouldn't be sweet to you?"
She looked down at the journals and pushed them aside like she was suddenly embarrassed. "It's been known to happen."
"Shouldn't though," he replied, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Now let me go mend fences with your main squeeze. I want to be able to show my face in this fine establishment again in the future."
Jessica was smiling brightly at him as he turned toward the bar where Chippy was wiping the same spot with a rag over and over again. "Good evening," Jake said to the older man who still looked like he wanted to snap Jake in half. "Could I get two pints of whichever beer is Reedy's favorite?"
"Sam Adams," he grunted, tossing the rag aside. "And sometimes I get the Sam seasonal kegs for her. When I can."
Jake just nodded. Chippy was a big fan of Jessica's. He really needed to make sure this guy liked him, and he was pretty sure leaving another massive tip was not the answer. "Right. Two Sam Adams pints then, please."
Without another word, Chippy pulled two beers from the tap for Jake, setting them down a little hard in front of him before he scooped a bowl of peanuts.
"Thank you," Jake told him as the bowl of peanuts came thudding down next to the beers.
While Jake dug a ten dollar bill out of his wallet, Chippy grunted again. "She waited a long time for you to show up." His voice was accusatory.
Jake smoothed the bill between his thumb and index finger, stealing a glance at Jessica a few tables away. She was playing with her hair and reading something with a soft smile on her lips. He turned back toward the bar and met Chippy's eyes. "It won't happen again."
"No. It won't. Because next time I'll kick you out permanently," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "If you can even manage to get a next time, that is."
"That's certainly the goal," Jake informed him.
"Well, a lot of men look, that's for sure. And I think she's oblivious to most of 'em. But not you, for some reason," Chippy said, scowling once again. "Handsome and annoying," he muttered. "Be nice to her or I'll kick you out once and for all." Then he reached for the rag again, completely ignoring Jake.
"Right." Jake picked up both glasses in one hand and grabbed the pretzels, and he headed back to the table and Jessica.
"Did you have a nice conversation?" she asked with an amused expression as Jake slid one of the beers in her direction and sat on the stool opposite her.
He leaned on the table and whispered, "Not particularly. Pretty sure he'd happily kick me out given the opportunity. I had to swear on my life I'd never be late again."
She laughed behind her pint before taking a sip. "His bark is worse than his bite. Mostly. But actually, the head of the chemistry department has a lifetime ban, so maybe not."
"Damn," Jake murmured, taking a sip of his own beer. "Was he late meeting you two times in a row?"
Jessica looked down into her beer, swirling the glass gently, a solemn look on her face. "Something like that...let's just say the fact that Brian Conley isn't allowed in here is just one of the reasons this is my preferred hangout."
"Okay," Jake said softly, wondering if this Conley character had anything to do with the rumors Bradshaw's wife had been telling him about. Regardless, he was going to side with Chippy on this one. Conley could eat shit if Jessica didn't like him. "We hate Brian Conley," Jake told her as they both reached for the peanuts.
For some reason this got Jessica laughing again. "We do," she said as she picked up a few peanuts and held her hand open to him. Jake rubbed his thumb along her palm before selecting one and cracking into it. "Now, did Chippy tell you I like Sam Adams? Or did you guess from last time we were here?"
Jake tossed the shell on the floor and said, "You think I'd leave that up to chance? I one hundred percent asked him just to be sure. And now I know what kind of beer to buy if you agree to come to my place and let me cook dinner for you."
Jessica froze with her hand in the air, ready to throw her peanut shell. "You know how to cook?"
"Yeah," he replied with a smile. "I love it, actually. I usually meal prep on Sundays after I buy all my groceries for the week."
She was gaping at him. "There are two of you with the uniforms and the kitchen skills?"
Jake laughed, realizing she must have been referring to Bradshaw as well. "First of all, he's married. I'm single." She finally tossed her peanut shell and rolled her eyes.
"I finally made a friend at work," she said, cracking another shell and throwing this one at him. "You think I'm going to risk that by even looking at her husband for a second too long? No."
Jake tried to keep a straight face as he said, "Nobody's gonna get mad if you look at me all day long, Reedy."
"Tempting," she said before sipping her drink without meeting his eye.
"And," he added, running his fingers along her palm as she handed him more peanuts, "the kitchen isn't the only room where I have skills."
She met his eyes and adjusted her glasses with a smirk. "Care to tell me more about that, Lieutenant Seresin?"
He nodded and said, "I'm really good in the living room, too. You should see how well I can lay on the couch and watch University of Texas football."
She laughed and said, "I almost forgot for a second that you're from Texas."
"How did you know I'm from Texas? And, oh shit... did all those A&M boys already ruin my chances for me? I almost never wear my boots and hats around, I swear."
Jake grinned as she threw more peanut shells at him. "Stop!" she whispered as she laughed, and Jake loved the sound of it. "The only thing they ruined for me is Lone Star beer and line dancing."
Now he was laughing, because yeah, that made sense. "You're a Yankee, obviously. Don't tell the Texans I've been visiting you at work. They won't stand for it."
"Oh, sounds like Romeo and Juliet," she replied. "Except without the balconies, old English, and hermits giving out free drugs to children."
"Wait," he said, now the one who was laughing too hard. "My condo has a balcony."
"Shiiit," she whispered, eyes wide in feigned shock. "I was hoping this was a comedy, not a tragedy."
"Oh, it's definitely a comedy, Jessica. The audience is in riotous laughter over the fact that I still don't have your phone number."
This time she had to cover her mouth with one hand as she laughed. And when Jake glanced toward the bar, Chippy looked decidedly less aggressive now when he met his gaze.
"You Yankee girls must have a very particular vetting process. You from New York?"
"Massachusetts," she replied, still giggling. "I went to MIT undergrad."
"That explains the Sam Adams. Also, I'm never getting your phone number, am I?" he asked playfully, reaching across the small table and tucking her pretty hair behind her ear again while she laughed. "You've got me showing up to see you at work and running five miles for dates."
"Don't count yourself out quite yet," she said as he stroked her cheek.
"And you got me reading physics journals on my couch while the college games are on," he added softly. "You brought some more for me to take home?" he asked, dropping his hand and tapping the stack on the table next to her elbow.
But now she had a dreamy look in her eyes. "You really read them instead of watching the game?"
"Mmhmm." He nodded and said, "Picked one up at halftime and realized I missed the entire third quarter before I was done reading it."
Her lips were softly parted as she blinked at him. "Yeah. I brought you some more. But you have to promise you'll read them all cover to cover."
"I always do."
"Good. You won't be disappointed."
Jake laughed and looked down at the peanut shell in his hand before he tossed it over his shoulder just to make her smile. "I doubt you could ever disappoint me, Jessica."
God, the way she looked at him when he dished out something sweet could probably bring him to his knees. And the thing was, it was never a line. He wasn't throwing out bullshit to see if landed. He meant every word of it. Her eyes were unguarded as they always seemed to be with him now, and he couldn't believe he almost completely blew this evening with his fucking truck.
It was getting a little late now, and he needed to try to secure the next date while she was still looking at him with those dreamy eyes. He just didn't want her to think he had any certain set of expectations but suggesting his place.
"You know," he started, "my couch is big enough for both of us to watch some football and read some journals together. I could buy some Sam Adams, and we could make dinner together on Saturday night."
He watched her front teeth sink into her lip. She was hesitating. And it was killing him a little bit. "I think I can make that work," she said slowly, sliding the journals across the table as his heart pounded.
"Gonna need your phone number so I can text you my address," he whispered, reaching for her hand before she pulled it away. "Please?"
He drew a little heart on her palm with the tip of his index finger, and a smile bloomed across her face. "You'll find it, Jake. I know you will." And then she slowly closed her hand and stood, leaving him to pick up the journals. "But it's getting late, and Thursdays are early for me."
"Right." He followed her past the bar and watched her wave to Chippy who looked at her with a very kind smile before giving Jake a look of warning. And maybe he needed that warning, because he was looking at the gorgeous swell of her ass and enjoying the way she walked in high heels a little too much. So he nodded at Chippy, and kept his eyes on her wavy hair instead.
Once they were outside, Jessica dragged the toe of one of her shoe a few inches along the sidewalk as she leaned against the building. "Thanks for the three dollar beer," she said with a smile.
"You know, I'm pretty sure Chippy would give them to you for free if you were alone."
Her smile turned into another pretty laugh. "You're not wrong. Do you need a ride back to your truck?"
"Wouldn't mind one since I need to get it towed," he murmured, not quite ready to move from this spot where her face looked so perfect in the dim light. "But I'd be more than happy to run the five miles back."
And then her right hand reached up to tug on his shirt collar, and she didn't look so hesitant now as he eased himself closer, letting his hand rest on the wall next to her. "You have a peanut shell in your hair," she whispered, releasing his collar and brushing her fingers along his temple.
Jake swallowed hard. His lips were just a few inches from hers as he softly said, "That's probably because a beautiful woman was throwing them at me."
Her laugh was quiet and breathy, and then the space between their lips was negligible. And then she was kissing him with her small hand wrapped gently around his neck. Jessica was smiling against his lips, and he wasn't used to it being this sweet. He didn't kiss the girls from the bar like this, and they never teased his cheek with the tip of their nose or ran their thumb delicately behind his ear.
Oh, he was going to crave this now. Soft, exploratory kisses that tasted like beer and peanuts. And the sound of her soft moan as he let his hand trail from the wall near her shoulder down along her side to her waist. Yeah, this was going to become a necessity for Jake.
She brushed her lips along his again before looking up at him with surprised eyes as he held her a little tighter. And then six more little kisses while her hand trailed down his neck. "I was really afraid you stood me up earlier," she whispered, trailing some kisses along his chin.
"I wouldn't do that, Baby. You have any idea how much I wanted tonight to happen?" Jake had one hand full of physics journals and one hand full of Jessica, and he was already thinking about what he might cook for dinner on Saturday night.
With a soft laugh, she started to lead him down the sidewalk to her car. And he got to do even more things he never really did. Like open her car door instead of call her a cab at two in the morning. And lean over from the passenger seat and kiss her cheek gently as she started the engine.
"What's your day looking like tomorrow, Dr. Reed?" he asked, linking his fingers loosly with hers for the short drive to his truck.
"Department meeting, lectures, more lectures, a lab, and then my office hours."
Jake's mind was already working on a plan. "I have a long day ahead of me, too. There's my truck," he said, pointing to the piece of shit he was afraid he was going to have to replace.
Jessica pulled up next to it and put her car in park, but when she reached for the key, he covered her hand with his. "Just leave me here. I'll get it towed to the garage again and then get Bradshaw to drive me home from there. I want you to go right home. It's late and it's dark out."
Jake wrapped her hand around the steering wheel again as she said, "Okay." But the single word was muffled by his lips crashing against hers. He kissed her long and hard one time, and her glasses were a little crooked when he was done. He straightened them out before he reached for the door handle.
"I had a great time tonight. I'm sorry I almost ruined it by being late."
"You made up for it by running five miles," she whispered. "Night, Jake."
And then he was watching her pull back into traffic as he called for a tow truck, keeping his eyes on her brake lights until they were out of sight. Just for good measure he looked up some new trucks for sale as he sat behind his steering wheel, but that got boring after a few minutes. And then he thought about the way Jessica told him she was confident he would find her number.
He lunged for the journals sitting on the seat next to him, and he spread them out to read all the covers. His eyes caught on an edition of Applied Physics from late last year that said Jessica Reed, PhD. on the cover under an article title about combustion in jets.
"It's gotta be," he whispered as the tow truck arrived, and he frantically flipped to the page where her article had been printed. He would read the whole thing later. He wanted to read the whole thing later. But right now his eyes settled on a small, handwritten note. He recognized her writing from the mini lecture he'd accidentally attended, and a smile crept along his lips.
Jake,
If you made it this far, you can call or text me anytime.
Her number was written beneath it, and he was entering her as a contact in his phone when he got out to talk to the tow truck driver. He felt like he just won the lottery as he added the picture of her he had saved from the San Diego State University website as her contact photo.
Jessica, I'm sending you my address for Saturday. You and me, my couch, physics journals, college football and dinner? Please say yes.
It was getting very late now, and maybe she wouldn't respond until tomorrow, but Jake felt like he was on cloud nine. He just kept thinking about how sweet Jessica was. About how he wouldn't mind wrapping her up in his arms for some more soft kisses on his couch.
Once the driver was unloading his truck at the garage, Jake opened a different contact on his phone and made a quick call.
"It's 10:30, Hangman. This better be important."
"Bradshaw. I need a ride home from the garage. My truck is acting up again," Jake replied, trying not to smile at how annoyed Rooster sounded.
An exasperated sigh carried through the phone, and then Jake could hear his wife in the background asking, "Who is it?"
"It's Hangman. He needs a ride."
"Oh, well we can always finish this later, Beer Boy." His wife sounded less annoyed than him, thankfully.
After a brief pause, Bradshaw said, "Give me twenty minutes. I need to get dressed."
"Thanks. Much appreciated," Jake replied. He dropped his keys into the overnight box with a note telling the mechanic he was having the same issues as last week. And then he waited for that blue Bronco to pull into the lot, and when Jake climbed in, Bradshaw looked pissed as hell.
"Do you have any idea what my wife was about to do to me when you called?" he growled, shifting into reverse before Jake even had the door closed.
"Come on, man. Your wife's hot, but I don't want to be imagining what the two of you get up to."
"She was about to reprimand me for turning in sloppy math homework," he said, completely disregarding Jake. "And I'm virtually sure she will no longer be in the mood for that when I get back at 11:30. So you owe me. I don't even know what you owe me yet, but it's going to be big. Because I'm assuming you expect me to give you a ride to work in the morning, too."
Jake cleared his throat and said, "If you wouldn't mind."
"Fuck," Rooster growled as he pulled up to Jake's condo building. "I'll pick you up at 7:30. Get the fuck out."
"Thanks," Jake said, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. Jessica had just texted him back, and he was all smiles even as the Bronco peeled away. He was in.
------------------------
As Jessica undressed in her bedroom, she ran her fingers along her lace bra. She wondered what Jake's favorite color was, because she probably owned a pretty matching set that she would love to wear for him. She should have known this was going to happen; one kiss from him, and she was thinking about spending a lazy Sunday in bed with her fingers tangled in his hair.
"Stop," she told herself half heartedly with a dreamy smile in the mirror. She'd given him the journal with her number inside, and now she just had to wait. He'd probably find it by tomorrow. Maybe she would see him at her office hours again. Her whole body was tingling with excitement as she unclasped her bra, and then she heard the ping of her phone notifications.
She tossed her bra and bounded across the room in just her panties and saw a text from an unknown number.
Jessica, I'm sending you my address for Saturday. You and me, my couch, physics journals, college football and dinner? Please say yes.
She squealed as she flopped down onto her bed. He was good. It took him almost no time to find her phone number. She typed back a message as she thought about his big hands and his southern drawl. After she hit send, she closed her eyes and imagined everything she wanted to do to him in her office as she let her fingers glide along her body.
Don't forget the Sam Adams. See you on Saturday.
-----------------------------
Yes! You run those five miles, Jake! Anyone else just love Chippy? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 6
@blahehblah
@sotalife
@desert-fern
@furiouspiespytaco
@rosiahills22
@daggerspare-standingby
@je-suis-prest-rachel
@callsign-joyride
@theharddeck
@captain-beskar
@withakindheartx
@roosterscockpit
@whatislovevavy
@hangmanbrainrot
@neferpatra
@sehnsuchts-trunken
@averyhotchner
@thedroneranger
@cherrycola27
@mygyn
@tallyovie
@gennyanydots
@callsign-magnolia
@whisperofsong
@seriouslyseresin
@double-j
@bradshawsbitch
@sugarcoated-lame
@katiebby04
@anotherr-fine-mess
@supernaturaldawning
@chassy21
@strrywmen
@tylerjones98
@captainjaspenor
@gigisimsonmars
@fanboyswhore9
@angel-w0nderland
@abaker74
@idontcare-11
@isaebellaa
@bringnattolife
@xoxabs88xox
#jake seresin x oc#jake seresin fic#jake seresin fanfiction#hangman x oc#hangman fic#jake hangman fic#jake hangman seresin#hangman imagine#jake hangman imagine#jake seresin#top gun hangman#hangman fanfiction#jake seresin imagine#hangman top gun#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#adult education
525 notes
·
View notes
Text
Teacher Work Day
Lee Russell x Fem!Reader pt. 3
Summary: "Is that bitch pissing on that cop car?"
Notes: Whoops. This one's long. Idk why I keep doing that lmao.
Part one here. // Part two here. // Part four here. // Part five here.
The next day, the aforementioned Teacher Work Day, you show up hungover as all hell. You groan out a pained sound as you step inside the school underneath the bright, fluorescent lights. They claw and beat on your skull with every pulse of your heart. Your sunglasses do little to stifle the ache.
"Hey!" A voice that's far too excited for your liking. Whereas you're usually a tame person, this hellacious hangover has you out of character. "I just wanted to introduce myself to the new secretary. I'm Bill Hayden."
"My God, you are awake, aren't you?" You do your best to smile, peeling the useless sunglasses from your face. Across the foyer, watching from the large glass wall of his office, Gamby holds a phone to his ear. Lee's voice chimes a greeting from the other end.
"You're gonna be pissed if you get here too late and Bill fucking Hayden's made his move on Ms. Y/L/N." He taunts.
"Yeah, maybe I can show you around town sometime. Show you all the cool spots," he says with a smooth laugh. The young teacher's try-hard flirting is enough to make you gag, hangover or not.
"I just heard him offer to show her around town." Neal shakes his head.
"What are you talking about?" Lee ponders, sounding obviously stressed.
"Bill Hayden is making a pass at Y/L/N. Where are you?" Gamby's voice becomes urgent.
"I fuckin' told your stupid ass I had to meet with the lawyers today."
"I thought you said your divorce was finalized," he says, still watching as you wait for Bill to stop talking.
"Yeah, they usually like to get paid after they do that for you, dumbass. I'll be there in 20 minutes." He's about to hang up until Neal starts talking again.
"She's probably only talking to him because I told her you were into her, but when she asked you out, you said no."
"What?"
"It's okay, I told her that you are probably not into her anymore." Neal nods, pleased with his own actions for some reason.
"Gamby, what the hell? Why?"
"What do you mean 'why?' She asked you out and you said no. Did you want me to lie?"
"I want you to stop fucking talking!" Lee hangs up and tosses his cell phone into the back seat of his car as he drives down the highway. "Bill Hayden, you shifty little bitch."
He whips through a local coffee shop, because fuck Starbucks, and grabs some coffees for whoever. He just doesn't want to show up empty handed after Neal has taken to intruding on his dynamic with you. He quickly throws the car in park and speed walks inside with a peculiar amount of energy in his hips.
When Lee walks through the door, your face lights up. It doesn't go unnoticed. For just a second, Lee's eyebrows threaten to knit as he watches your expression change. He wonders if he underestimated his chances with you.
"Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N," he chimes, leaving one of the hot drinks on your desk.
"Thank you, Mr. Russell." You grin, genuinely thankful for the caffeine that you're praying will set you right for the rest of the day.
"Why don't you come with me, darlin'? If I don't claim you now, you'll be stuck running bullshit errands for Gamby." A wave of relief washes over you as he says this. You whisper a quick thank you and slip out from behind your desk. After grabbing your coffee, the two of you head down the hall.
You reach a set of double doors and as he holds it open for you, a student walks in. You're still learning names, but you recognize him as Todd. A freshman that loses his phone and has to come to the office to pick it up relatively often.
"Todd, honey, you can't be here," you say in your soft, teacher voice.
"Todd Frechett, what are you doing here?" Lee interrupts.
"I'm going to school." The short, blond kid looks around, confused.
"It's teacher work day, we did announcements about it every day this week. Go home." Lee shifts his weight onto his hip, waiting for the student to exit.
"But my mom's not home and the door's locked."
"Okay, well, then go bowling or play stupid video games, or go masturbate in your car- whatever it is that teenage boys do." He explains. "You can't be here."
"Uhh, uh-" he seems genuinely at a loss for what to do.
"No, no, no. Not 'Uh, uh, uh.' Go home." He finishes, shoving Todd out the doors he came through. "Open this door, open the next door. Open the door after that."
Lee and the student go back and forth for a while as the kid walks away, exiting the school.
"We need a day without children please!"
"Alright!" He shouts back, the door closing behind him, ending the interaction.
"Um, Lee. I don't think you're allowed to say half the shit you just said to that kid." You look at him with concern, sipping your caffeinated drink as the two of you continue walking.
"He won't remember it tomorrow. Kid's got ADHD and two Christian hippies for parents." Lee's words confuse you and you nearly get a headache trying to decipher what he means.
"So, you were a little late today." You change the subject. "Everything okay?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. It was nothing." He shrugs. Nothing, you repeat inside your head. Nothing kept him from having a drink with you last night, he just didn't want to and that's fine. You try to bury your embarrassment under a smile, knowing it'll pass in a short while. Rejection is part of the human experience.
"So, uh, listen. About those drinks," Lee starts. He's got a stupid smile on his face as if he's almost in disbelief that he's already finding himself speaking so boldly to you. The divorce had been drawn out for a while, his feelings for his ex-wife have long since fizzled. But it just seems so fast. Too good to be true.
"Oh, please. No worries. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I'm still not allowed to talk to teachers, I think. I just didn't want to drink alone," you say, hoping to ignore the situation and allow your humiliation to fade out with dignity. You let out a fake laugh.
"No, I mean, this weekend. Maybe you and I could get those drinks." Strangely enough, his palms sweat with nerves.
"Drinks this weekend? I'm in. This week has already been a shit show," Gamby appears from seemingly nowhere. "Y/L/N, grab a clipboard-"
"Not today, Gamby. She's the secretary, not your personal assistant. Get an ISS kid to do it." Lee waves him off.
"Fine. Payday drinks this Friday. I'm in." Neal snatches one of the coffees from Lee and takes off down the hall. There is no way out of it, as arguing with him is like negotiating with a brick, you might as well accept that Gamby will be crashing your date.
You and Lee share a knowing look and he rolls his eyes. You can't help but laugh.
"At least we know it'll be a fun evening," you chuckle.
"I'm certain he will turn the night into a shit show the minute we get there, but sure. It'll be interesting."
The rest of the week is filled with nonsense and plotting from your two higher ups. They can barely seem to agree on anything until Neal learns that Dr. Brown has a history of alcoholism. The three of you gather in Lee's office.
"That's perfect, Gamby. Invite her out to payday drinks, we'll knock that bitch right off the fucking wagon." Lee looks elated.
"I hate to rain on your parade, Lee. But if she's been sober for this long, there's a high chance she'll say 'no' to going out and drinking," you chime in.
"Listen. That bitch is going down one way or another. Let's just invite her to dinner and see where it goes," Lee stares deeply into your eyes and you almost forget to respond.
"Y/N's gonna have to show up separate from us. Brown doesn't fraternize with staff under her VPs," Neal injects.
"Okay, well. Don't call yourself a VP. That sounds too important," you sneer.
"Too impor-? I am important."
"Yeah, but it sounds like you see yourself as like a Vice President or something." You can't help but tease.
"I'm close enough. I'm fuckin'... Vice President of this school." Neal fumes.
"Whatever, whatever. I'll be there before you guys get there. I can't let my bosses know how high my tolerance is anyways." You shrug and the two men look at each other for a moment and then back to you.
"Go see what she says, Gamby, and report back," Lee instructs and Neal just about listens to him, but then he stops in his tracks and turns back around.
"You've been sending me off a lot. Bossin' me around. Makes me think you might think you're in charge or something." He squints his eyes. "Or are you just trying to get some alone time with Y/N even though you rejected her and she drank alone about it last night?"
"Je-sus Christ, Gamby." You stare down at the floor in front of you with wide eyes and a flushed face.
"Will you please get the fuck out of here?" Lee pinches the bridge of his nose. "Go, go!" He ushers Neal out the door, closing it behind him. Lee returns to his seat behind his desk and glances up at you where you stand, smiling from the embarrassment and humor of the entire situation.
"He's the fuckin' worst, right?" You chuckle, only half joking with that statement. You take a seat across from his desk. "I was going to drink anyways, by the way. It wasn't because you weren't there." Lee laughs at your clarification.
"A fucking idiot, just an absolutely stupid motherfucker. I'm bewildered," he huffs, leaning back in his chair.
"I guess I'll get back to the desk. Mrs. Frechett will probably be calling us after a while." You straighten the stapler on Lee's desk and he watches your delicate hand as you do it. Just as you're taking a step toward the door, he speaks.
"What if I did just like being around you? Alone? Would that make you uncomfortable?" His words cause heat to rise in your face, you feel it all the way to your ears. He's posed his question like a hypothetical, but you're no fool.
"Gross," you say in jest with little thought at all. Lee's face immediately drops to one of confusion. "Oh, my God. I'm kidding. I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that." You shake your head, clearly taken aback by your own actions. "It doesn't make me uncomfortable at all, Lee. You're the best part of my day, usually."
"Usually?" He questions as an uncontrollable smile creeps onto his face.
"Yeah, sometimes Neal just sweeps me off my feet. All that shit about leadership definitely does it for me." You fan yourself, playfully. Lee can't help but laugh, utterly charmed. Time slows down, it seems, as the two of you laugh together. In the same moment he allows himself to feel comfortable with you, his mind is flooded with doubts and anxieties.
He and his ex-wife, Christine, haven't been divorced for long, but the marriage itself was over long ago. His feelings for her are all but a memory. What troubles him now is the fear of being left again. No, not in an overdramatic, help him feel whole again type of way. It's just a lingering fear. When Christine left, it was hard on him. With the divorce freshly finalized, he wonders if he can handle the stress of doing it all again should something go wrong.
The next day, after the school day concludes, you leave work and head home to get ready to meet the guys and Dr. Brown for drinks, staging it as an accidental run-in. After changing into some comfortable, casual clothes, you make your way to the bar.
To your satisfaction, none of the cars in the lot are recognizable. You park on the far side in the darker corner, hoping your car doesn't stand out too much. Inside the bar you order two drinks, slamming them down as quickly as possible before your coworkers arrive.
"Ms. Y/L/N? Is that you?" Principal Brown's smooth voice rings behind you. You turn around, flashing a face of convincing shock.
"Dr. Brown! Oh my goodness!" You chime, reaching to bring her in for a friendly hug. "Let me buy you a drink!"
"No thank you, Y/N. Now, you all know I don't drink," she laughs warmly. A sense of pride in her words. You begin to wonder if opening your mouth is the right thing to do, but after one glance at Lee, you do it anyway.
"I hear you, ma'am. I have a terrible history with drinking as well," you admit, only half lying. Is it really history if you're still drinking? Oh well. Brown's eyes go wide as she takes in your words. "I was clean as a whistle and straight edge as they come for years after initially getting sober." You finish your third drink. "But then I realized that if I have to force myself to not even look at the bottle, then alcohol still controls my life. Moderation is what I strive for."
You set the glass down on the bar and shrug with a smile, insinuating that it's your first drink of the night.
"Moderation, B. It's a beautiful thing," Lee announces, having just ordered a round of shots. "I know that whole book fiasco got you down. Leblanc fuckin' humiliated you at that tribunal."
Belinda seems to weigh her options before snatching the last remaining shot, and joining the group as you all toss it back. She releases a hyper sound, whooping like a sports fan as the clear, burning liquid enters her system for the first time in years.
"Yeah, Dr. Brown!" You cheer, signaling for another round. Round after round, with fruity cocktails in between, even Lee and Neal find themselves more buzzed than planned, but you're still stone-faced. Dr. Brown wavers on the cusp of belligerent and blackout.
You and Lee step outside to have a cigarette, mostly to escape the overwhelming nature of a drunk Dr. Brown.
"Did you really have a drinking problem?" Lee asks, wanting to dissect how much of your monologue was just a performance.
"Shit, I think I have a drinking problem right now," you joke. "Nah, that was all bullshit." He bursts into laughter, impressed by your quick-witted nature.
"Sure wasn't hard to convince her, huh?" Lee gestures to the door where a drunken Principal Brown terrorizes the locals.
"Not at all. She was basically grabbing the glass while I was still talking."
"I really appreciate your help, Y/N," he speaks softly. "Gamby's a fucking idiot, there's no way we'd make it this far if it weren't for you."
"Thanks, Lee," you smile with pride. You look down at your hands as a thick silence grows between you. "The other day, when you were late to work, did you really have something to do, or was it an elaborate rejection? I've learned you're pretty elaborate."
Lee sighs.
"Y/N, I'm newly divorced. My wife left me one day... Unexpectedly." He knows that's a lie and he's pretty sure you know that too. "I was paying my lawyers, filling out paperwork." He shrugs, waving his hand around as if to dismiss the matter.
"Okay, yeah, sure. Except you can do all of that over your phone nowadays." You lean against the railing outside the bar.
"I know, I just-" he searches for anything to say besides admitting it scared him to pursue you so quickly.
"So you could've had a drink with me after all," you smirk, reading his hesitation. Understanding his explanation, even if you've never been in that situation.
"Guess so," he mirrors your smile, slowly drawing closer and closer to you. Before either of you are aware, you're nearly pressed against each other. Lee's chest rises and falls at a rapid rate and you watch his eyes dance back and forth from your eyes to your lips. Your face feels hot and the heat only grows more intense until you finally close the gap, pressing your lips to his.
His well-tended hands wrap around your body, pulling you closer to him, and deepening your kiss. You reach your arms around the back of his neck, resting them there comfortably as your heads move in sync, albeit sloppily. Lee's grasping at any part of you he can, pulling you as close to him as possible. Your breathing quickens and a small moan escapes your mouth until you hear something strange and pull away.
"Lee."
"What?" He sounds annoyed to have lost contact with your mouth.
"Did you just hear Belinda say a slur?" You squint as if it'll help you hear better. At that moment, the door flies open and Brown is quite literally thrown out the door, Gamby close behind.
"Jesus Fucking Christ, Gamby!" Lee exclaims, laughing maniacally at Brown's physical state.
"Oh, fuck. My purse is inside!" You run to the door and beg for them to let you inside just to grab your belongings. They're hesitant, but after seeing you so coherent, they let you in to recover your things, demanding that you leave right after. You show no protest and quickly make your getaway as promised.
Stepping out onto the sidewalk, you scan your surroundings for your group, more importantly, Lee. They're a few blocks down the sidewalk doing something you're not close enough to decipher. As you speed walk up to them, you realize Dr. Brown is standing on top of a cop car and...
"Is that bitch pissing on that cop car?" Your jaw drops.
"Fucking pig!" Belinda chants as she urinates down the windshield of the police cruiser. Lee makes sure to gather every bit of evidence he can, while Gamby stands off to the side, looking a little guilty. You understand his empathy, but you crave Lee's approval over social acceptance and that's just something you've come to terms with. Maybe you're not so far off from him on the crazy scale.
Right after her golden shower, Principal Brown passes out, tumbling down the front of the cruiser.
"Oh, shit!" Gamby runs to help her up.
"Cut me out of that shit, I want no part in it," you point to Lee with a serious expression.
"I need to get her home, ASAP." Gamby says, helping her to her feet.
"I'll drive Lee home. You get her to a bed." You shake your head, leaving the men to help Dr. Brown to Gamby's car. You jog over to your own vehicle in the dark corner you parked in and fumble with your keys, finally feeling your buzz. Worst timing ever.
"Let's see that purse," an unfamiliar voice speaks from behind you. You turn around with a raised brow and see a tall, skinny man in a hoodie, hiding his facial features. In the shadows, you can still see his pale hands as he lunges toward you.
"What the fuck?!" You attempt to fight the man off as he tugs on the strap of your purse. He wrestles it off your shoulder and the two of you play a sort of tug of war. "Fuck off!" You scream, echoing through the parking lot.
"Was that Y/N?" Lee's head pops up from the car he's helping Belinda into.
"I heard it too," Neal scans the parking lot.
"Let go!" You wail, out of sight. Neal rummages through his center console and then takes off toward the sound of your voice. Lee's not far behind, squinting his eyes to attempt to see further into the darkness. "I swear to fucking God when I get my concealed carry license switched over-"
"Hey!" Lee's voice booms across the lot as they close in on you. The man quickly releases your back, causing you to jerk and stumble backward, falling to the ground with a hard thud. Lee runs to your aid while Neal, broken out in a full drunken sprint, hunts down the assailant and bashes him once in the back of the head with his brass knuckles.
"Hey, you okay?" Lee kneels beside you, placing a soft hand on either side of your face, searching you for wounds. "Did he hurt you?" He asks with an eccentric amount of worry.
"No, dude. He couldn't even get the bag out of my hands," you break into a laugh and he joins you, just from the relief of seeing you okay. Eventually, Neal returns with his brass knuckles ever so slightly bloody. It was less about defending you and more about getting to use his new brass knuckles.
"The thief has been taken care of," Gamby says with his eyes narrowed.
"Mr. Gamby, did you just kill that man?" You ask, shocked.
"No, but I could've." He walks away without another word, heading out to drive Dr. Brown home. You climb into your driver's seat and Lee slips into the passenger side. It's quiet for just a moment before you speak up.
Maybe it's the alcohol and adrenaline talking, but you do very little to stop it. You bite your lip before finally speaking up.
"Lee?" He looks at you, buzzed and smiling. "Do you want to come back to my place?"
(Part 4 coming soon!)
•••
Taglist: @its-in-the-woods // @justme12200 // @sixx-writes // @littlenosoul // @itsyellow // @blackwoodtree
#lee russell fan fiction#lee russel fanfiction#lee russell vice principals#lee russell#walton goggins#neal gamby#danny mcbride#vice principals hbo max#vice principals max#vice principals fanfiction#vice principals#hellfirecvnt
111 notes
·
View notes
Text
i can't stop for you and me
nc-17, Sung Hanbin/Reader, office au, lawyer!reader, also bully!reader (kinda), doormat!Hanbin, cunnilingus
~~~
A/N: Reparations ;) This is a gift for a friend. I'm not a ZB1 fan and I don't know them well, so I hope it’s at least a little bit of a fitting scenario for Hanbin.
~~~
Fucking CUTE. You think while spinning your pen between your fingers. You’re sitting behind your big wooden desk, peeking over the dossier that you’ve been pretending to read for the past 15 minutes, your eyes scanning through the office in front of you, until they find your favorite target - your new pretty assistant, Hanbin.
To be honest, he’s not even doing anything particularly cute, he’s quite literally just doing his job, staring into a computer screen and typing occasionally. He’s that pretty and adorable just by existing, with his delicate porcelain doll face and black hair.
I should have hired that old lady, you lament, but you know it’s bullshit. You knew you’re gonna give him a job offer the moment he walked into the meeting room for his interview, all fresh from school and excited to start his career. He looked so proper and polite, thoughtfully answering every question, even daring to blush and sweat under your scrutiny. You took one brief look at his CV to check if he’s qualified enough, and he was. There might have been better, more experienced candidates, but you decided to do this thing for you, just this once. Treat yourself.
And now it’s coming back at you in full force.
This is not good. This is a problem. His presence makes you feel things and all of them are inappropriate at the very least.
It’s not helping that he would obviously bend over backwards to make you happy. You don’t even need to finish the question and he’s already eagerly rushing to complete whatever unnecessary task you made up this time. No request is dumb enough for him to object, and you actually tried. He would just happily go about his way to fulfill it. You could send him to sort cases by alphabetical order backwards and he would just ask when it’s supposed to be done. Sometimes you like to ruffle his feathers a little more by giving him work that he’s clearly not ready for, like that one time where you made him give a presentation to your client instead of yourself. You actually thought he’s going to faint, but somehow he powered through it just by sheer determination, earning an approving smile and nod from you, going all red in reply.
Not to say that thanks to his good looks he solved your perpetual problem of missing partner at every work function and dumb dinner party with clients. Now you get to drag your handsome assistant along as your plus one to every event, where you can not only parade him around, but also enjoy him fussing over your comfort, bringing you drinks, holding your coat or bag and even driving you home. You can see the jealousy in others and it makes you secretly happy.
You wouldn’t be able to do that, if you hired that old lady.
And even today, despite being already long past his shift, he still decided to stay working late, just because you did. The office is already empty and dark, the only sole source of light shining on his face is his computer screen in his cubicle and the light coming out of your glass walled office.
He rubs his eyes.
You slap the dossier down on your desk.
“Hanbin-sshi, can you please come here for a second?” you call out.
“Yes, ma’am,” he immediately replies and gets up. He’s sluggish and obviously tired and you almost feel bad for him. Almost.
“Can I help you with anything?” he asks.
“Yes. I would like you to run to the Starbucks, I want some coffee. I’d like a venti pumpkin spice latte-” you pause, seeing as he’s struggling to fish out his phone to take notes. “with four shots of espresso, almond milk, light caramel drizzle, light foam, one pump of pumpkin sauce, one pump of maple pecan sauce and salt topping. Thank you.” you smirk at him as he’s dutifully tapping everything down.
“No problem, I’ll be right back, ma’am,” he bows a little and rushes out of the door.
Your stomach rumbles. Actually.
“Actually!” you call out, but he doesn’t reply. You jump out from behind your table in hope of maybe being able to catch him, but when you run out of the office you can see he’s already left.
Oh well. Maybe I’ll just send him for the second time, when he gets back.
You turn back to return to your office, when his computer pings with a message.
Huh? He didn’t lock his computer?
You take a look, and really - he didn’t. He must have forgotten or just didn’t care, since no one else is left at the office at this time.
Moreover, the message is not from your designated work chat app, but from a personal one. You lean forwards to take a look at the unread notification.
matt says: so how’s the late hours with the sexy boss going? dude you’re a masochist.
You blink. Without any hesitation you click on the chat and scroll through the last messages.
hb says: fuck it's getting really hard to hide my boners from her
>every time she orders me around i can barely think
>i just go home and jerk off everyday thinking about her bossing me around
>if she ever finds out im screwed
>i literally stayed working late, just in case she wants something
>she could ask me to eat her pussy under her desk and i would just crawl under
>matt i’m so fucked
Your reflection on the computer screen twists into a wide grin. Oh. What a beautiful bunch of revelations.
You had a hunch that he must like taking orders and feeling accomplished by completing tasks, but you didn’t know it’s sexual for him. Much less, that it’s because of you, in particular. But hey, at least it validates your own interests in this little game.
You do your best to curb your giddiness and return back behind your desk. Hanbin appears a few minutes later, with your coffee in hand and a little bag in another.
“Here, ma’am. I also took the liberty to bring you some snack, since it’s really late and you must be hungry.” he hands you both.
You open the little back and pull out a blueberry muffin. “Thank you, Hanbin-sshi,” you take a bite. “It’s like you’re reading my mind. I hope I’m not putting you through too much trouble.”
“Oh, no, really, it’s not a problem,” he’s quick to assure you, shaking his head.
“Hanbin-sshi, it’s such a joy to have you. You’re always so eager and helpful, I could not pick a better assistant,” you smile kindly at him.
“T-thanks, ma’am, this really means a lot to me.” he stutters, cheeks already burning red.
“Sometimes it feels like I could ask you to eat my pussy under my desk, and you would just crawl right under, wouldn’t you?” you ask with a smirk.
He freezes. Gotcha.
“I-..”
“You?”
“I- I actually, I would,” he admits. He looks nervous, like he's sure he’s busted, outed as a pervert and will be fired immediately. It looks good on him.
“Okay,” you nod and push yourself off your desk on your chair. You gesture at the space. “Be my guest.”
He looks at you disbelievingly, as if he’s not sure if you’re serious or if it’s just some kind of a prank. But eventually, he seems to make up his mind.
He slowly falls on his knees. He looks at you, as if to check whether it is really something you want, and when he sees you’re not putting a stop to it, he slowly crawls on his all fours under your big desk.
You roll your chair back to its place. You look down, where two big eyes are staring right back at you.
“I hope it were not just empty words, Hanbin-sshi. I’m sure you don’t want to disappoint me,” you warn him.
“No, of course not, ma’am,” he hurries to assure you and visibly gathers all the courage to actually touch you. He runs his hands over your legs and leans forwards.
He starts kissing your thighs, while bunching your skirt up, even daring to suck and lick a little at your skin. He slowly gets to your pussy and he doesn’t hesitate to lick over your panties, already wet ever since you discovered his true feelings. It’s like he’s trying to get as much of your taste as he can through them, licking until they are completely drenched with both your juices and his saliva. He’s kneeling in front of you, holding you around your hips, his whole face buried in your crotch, like he doesn't care if he can even breathe.
It feels good and you’re getting more and more aroused, but you can’t wait for a more direct stimulation. You grab him by his hair and pull him off you by force. You quickly lift yourself up to pull down your panties, and he frantically helps, even tries to dive back in, but your hold won’t let him.
You look into his eyes and wait a second until he calms down a bit, while he whimpers. He’s all red and clearly aroused and he looks so pretty, you’re sure you will never forget this sight of his delicate face, eager to pleasure you.
“Now you can,” you say and let go of his hair. He doesn’t hesitate a moment and quickly leans forwards to get back your pussy.
It feels like his tongue is everywhere. He’s licking all over your pussy and trying to push his tongue in. You have half a mind to tell him to use his fingers, but his tongue already feels so good, you want to see if he will manage to make you cum only like that.
And it seems he will, since when he moves to your clit, it’s basically game over for you.
He’s clearly bringing out his A-game, rubbing all over your clit with flat tongue in cruel tempo, building up your pleasure, until he can tell you’re getting close, then switching to quicker flicks, his mouth sealed around your pussy as if he was making out with it.
You’re getting close and you know he can tell, just by the sounds you’re making. You’re so wet it must be dripping off his face. He’s tireless, his tongue never stopping, he’s even moaning a little, as if it was him being pleasured.
You grab him by his hair and push him even closer and then you’re cumming, smothering him with your pussy and juices and not letting him breathe at all, not until you’re finished. He’s not fighting it, letting you ride his face as much as you need, slowly coming down from your orgasm.
You let him go, and he takes a deep breath. He looks up at you.
You roll your chair back a little. You take a moment to enjoy the look at him all out of his mind, kneeling under your desk, red, sweaty and disheveled. He’s breathing heavily, aroused and undeniably close to orgasm, without even touching himself.
“Are you hard, Hanbin-sshi?” you ask.
It’s a stupid question, his cock is obviously tenting his pants, even leaving a dark wet spot on them. But he nods regardless, eyes glazed over, face still wet. His black hair is sticking to his face a little.
“If you manage to drive us to my apartment without either crashing or cumming, I’ll suck you off. What do you think about that?”
You can see his breath hitching. He doesn’t even need to answer.
“Go get your coat.”
#hanbin smut#sung hanbin smut#zerobaseone smut#zb1 smut#ficscafe#hanbin fic#sung hanbin fic#hanbin#sung hanbin#kpop smut#kpop fic#hanbin imagines#sung hanbin imagines#hanbin x reader#sung hanbin x reader#hanbin scenarios#sung hanbin scenarios#zerobaseone scenarios#zb1 scenarios#zerobaseone#zb1
157 notes
·
View notes
Text
The apple of my eye (or 'oh good, there's ANOTHER one')
*yeets into the conversation a week late with Starbucks*
Sorry, sorry. Been trying to save a dukedom from a giant brain and live my best happily ever with a vampire twink. Very distracting.
But anyway, I haven't even gotten the boys in my clubroom yet, so more analysis incoming, but I have finished Indigo Disk's main story, and I couldn't help but notice something deeply awful when fighting our little buddy Kieran.
... Oh god THEY'RE MULTIPLYING. How many apples do we need? How much more homosexuality does this game need? (Yes. The answer is 'yes.')
Meet Hydrapple everyone, the latest gay marriage mascot. Truly wish you all could've seen my face when. And it evolves from the last gay marriage mascot! I have quickly become homophobic again, how do they keep managing this?!
So, naturally, we need to break this loveable bastard and its symbolism down, or I might have to start passing the meta queen crown off to someone else. (I vote @prince-kallisto. Friend spare me. 🤣)
Well, we'll begin with the obvious: this thing is a hydra, a multiple-headed dragon in Greek myth. This one in particular has seven, so says the all-knowing dex:
But we'll do the seven part in a minute. The one major thing you should all know is that in most tales, removing one of this thing's heads respawns two in its place - and killing one of these creatures was the second labour of Hercules, the God of Strength. There's that fucking number two again in connection with our boys...
And now, let's take the Greek and easternize it to our lovely Japanese creators with the number seven.
Seven in Japanese culture, like in the western, is seen as a lucky number, and also the number symbolising the cycle of life and death.
... Which, if you recall, is a running theme with our silly men.
Get your life saved, idiot. Be lucky. 🥰
There are also Seven Gods of Fortune in Buddhism, Japan's primary religion. And there's one that rings more than a few ceremonial bells - Fukurokokuju. Bit of a Buddhist lore deepcut here for you:
> He is the god of wisdom, luck, longevity, wealth and happiness. Moreover, he is the only god who was said to have the ability to resurrect the dead. Fukurokuju is characterized by the size of his head, being almost as large as the size of his whole body.
... Hmm. Wisdom, happiness. Luck. 'Resurrecting.' The one that has a large head, like our good pal Hydrapple here... it's all very interesting, isn't it, how it ties together?
And all this goes a long way to explaining the evolution method of this fun little apple-y bastard. Because in order to be lucky, to be brought back to life, to heal and to love and to find yourself... one must have support. A cheerleader, if you will. Not one with pom-poms (although slay Hass babes, you'd look great in that drip), but one cheering you on. Always being in your corner.
... And here we find Dragon Cheer, Hydrapple's evolution move. Brassius can pursue his dreams as passionately as he likes, because there's always a husband at his side to be on his side.
It's a whole narrative, my friends. We have the romantic gift of the Applin; we have the adorableness of the Flapple, and its dusk portrait; we have the total harmony of Dipplin...
... And now we have the result of that harmony. Look, it's even running away from the Ice of the Polar Biome, a type both Grass and Dragon can't stand. The emotional cold.
Y'know, I'm sure someone would have DM'd me by now if Hass and Brass' clubroom banter confirmed their marriage, so I'm going to assume that isn't a thing.
... But at the same time, it's definitely a thing. All you have to do is read the narrative, darlings.
#ephemeralartshipping#hassius#hassel x brassius#hassel#brassius#pokemon scarlet and violet#indigo disk dlc#pokemon spoilers#hydrapple is the final piece of the puzzle#and I for one think that's fucking beautiful. 😭😭#... fucking apples. I'll write a fic about this shit someday on arceus#I have missed meta y'know. Great to be back. 😍
80 notes
·
View notes
Text
✧Sticking to the Script✧-11
⋆｡°✩ 11-possessive much?
a/n: go here if you want to read along with the original romeo and juliet lines
"No, no, no, not like that, you need to make the brush strokes more even so the paint doesn't get clumpy."
"Don't cut that fabric yet-!"
"NO THAT SET DOESN'T GO THERE!"
"Oh Archons, this is what happens when I don't let the professionals do the work." Furina groaned as she rubbed her temples.
You, Lyney, and Fischl all walked into the auditorium together, seeing Furina yell at a group of students. There were many unfamiliar faces. You were told that most of the stage crew couldn't make it today, but all of the actors could, so Furina had to round up a bunch of volunteers to help with the production.
Suddenly, you saw a familiar figure enter through the doors by the stage.
"I'm so sorry about being late Miss Furina, I brought you your Starbucks order though, Chiori told me what you usually have." you heard a voice that you had grown far too fond of.
"Oh! Thank you so much Xingqiu, you're a life saver. You can go help Kazuha make the props." Furina said, gesturing to an area on the stage.
Xingqiu gave her a quick nod. He noticed you from across the room and he gave you a smile and a wave before setting his stuff aside and making his way to the other side of the room.
Fischl playfully elbowed you. "So that's the guy that has you this smitten huh?" she teased. You giggled, hitting her back "Oh, shut up." you responded.
The three of you made your way over to Furina who was about to give a small announcement for the cast.
"Attention! We'll be running the prologue and scenes 1-5 in Act 1 and after that, all of you will be working on sets together." she explained. "Places in five!" she snapped her fingers as everyone scrambled to their positions.
The chorus recited the prologue as per usual, you and Lyney had gone on and off stage. You were mentally preparing yourself for the ball scene. The two of you had already done it before, but you felt guilty about it with Xingqiu in the room.
I know that we're not really together, but why do I feel like I'm being disloyal?
Scaramouche had exited the stage, which cued Lyney to approach you. You took a deep breath, getting yourself into character. You weren't (Y/N), you were Juliet now.
It's showtime
Xingqiu was cutting paper into the shapes of hearts. Kazuha sat right next to him making origami hearts. Furina had told them that they were to be used as decorations for the ball scene.
Though Xingqiu was more focused on said ball scene rather than making the decorations for said scene. You and Lyney were very talented actors. The two of you were so in character. A little too in character for his liking.
But it wasn't fair for him to get in the way of something that mattered so much to you. He told himself that he was so focused due to interest. He totally wasn't jealous. Why would he have a reason to be?
He continued cutting the hearts, even though most of his focus was on you and Lyney. Xingqiu's read through the play before, he knew what was coming. He still continued his poor attempt of mutlitasking, which in turn was a poor attempt at distracting himself.
Snip
"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much. Which mannerly devotion shows in this;"
Xingqiu watched you place your palm against Lyney's.
Snip
"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"
"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer."
You had moved away from Lyney, face flushed and bashfully smiling.
Snip
"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."
Lyney had grabbed your hand yet again.
Snip
"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake."
Snip
Lyney had cupped your cheek, your faces inches apart.
Snip
"Then move, while my prayer's effect I take."
Lyney had kissed you.
RIP
Kazuha turned over to look at his friend, who had just ripped several sheets of paper with a pair of scissors. Xingqiu kneeled down to the floor to pick up the ripped paper. He piled them on to the seat next to him, preserving the pieces that could still be used.
"Jealous?" Kazuha asked his friend, smirking. "Me? Jealous? Why'd I be jealous?" Xingqiu replied, getting defensive, he forced a laugh. Kazuha gave his friend an unimpressed look.
"A little bit, I guess. It's not that I don't trust her, I do, it's just-" Xingqiu sighed, he didn't want to disclose the true nature of your relationship. "Complicated?" Kazuha asked, trying to finish his friend's sentence.
Xingqiu nodded, "Yeah, let's go with that." He tried to put all his focus on cutting the hearts this time.
"She's an amazing actress though." Kazuha said, complimenting your skills.
"Yeah, she is." Xingqiu replied, trailing off.
That's all you were doing
Acting
That's all your relationship was
Acting
additional notes:
-this takes place on a saturday btw (no wonder most of the crew wasn't avaliable)
-once again the flower gif means a pov shift
-TRIPLE UPDATE LET'S GO
-hehehe possessive xingqiu
-him taking out his jealousy on the poor paper- LOL
-i quoted romeo and juliet word for word for y'all
-ALSO KAZUHA CAMEO
-lol not me slowly intergrating kazuha into the plot now
-doing this for the lovely @uuyuomi btw
-what if kazuha is actually endgame guys? 👀
-anyways I'm proud of this chap
masterlist
<prev ll next>
✧Sticking to the Script✧
Pairing: Xingqiu x FEM! Reader
Genre: fake dating, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst (?), high school smau, modern smau
⋆｡°✩-Synopsis: Xingqiu just got entered into a special writing contest, the type that's invite only, the theme this year is love, the only problem is that he has zero romantic experience. but he really wants to prove himself as a writer. meanwhile, you just found out that your boyfriend cheated on you, and you need to show him that you're 100% over him, the only problem is that there's no way you can get an actual boyfriend that quickly. clearly, the solution to both of your issues is to fake date each other. it shouldn't be hard for an actor such as yourself, all you need to do is stick to the script.
(OPEN) Taglist: @freyao7, @thatoneswordgirl, @sn1perz, @latay7, @willowcandletree, @nmriki0, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @httpsrenren, @cupid-spams, @aixaingela, @kaitfae, @luvkvni, @danhenglovebot
#xingqiu x reader#xingqiu x you#xingqiu x y/n#xingqiu#reader insert#x reader#lyney#fischl#furina#chiori#kazuha#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin au#genshin smau#social media au#modern au#modern smau#modern social media au#highschool au#smau#fanfiction#fanfic#high school au#high school#highschool smau#high school smau
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
🌝🚄 w e e k ly 🌊 t a g ✨w e d n e s d a y ✈️🌞
happy wednesday!! i hope everyone has settled nicely into this january because holy crap its already halfway over!! thanks to @michellemisfit @mybrainismelted @jrooc and @heymacy for helping me with the game this week (also consider yourselves tagged to play 😋)
_____________________
Name: deanna🌱
Age: noel-aged~
Location: ohio
we're going on a trip!!
📍where are we going? seattle!!
📍whats the weather like there right now? cold but a bit warmer than here
📍are you an over-packer or a light-packer? i try so hard but i am a perpetual over-packer
📍are we taking a plane or a train? i would like to take the train please
📍early morning departure or an overnight trip? hmmm early morning
📍what song are you playing in the car while we drive to catch our departure? putting on some CRJ - party for one to pump us up
📍we need to grab something on the way, starbucks or dunkin? if i could mix in my own oatmilk and creamer on the road i would say dunkin, but since i cant i gotta go with the bux 😔
📍we've made it to the transportation place 🚂✈️!
be honest, are we on-time or are we rushing because we're running late? oh we are late, im panicking, you're telling me to take an alprazolam, i am complying lol
📍are you taking the window seat or the aisle seat? i would *love* the window seat but i always psych myself out into needing to pee like every 20 minutes in confined spaces so...i'll just take the aisle seat 🤦♀️
📍we're settled in our seats, are you gonna read or watch a movie/show? watch a shoooow!
📍what are you reading/watching? i'm such a mood watcher, but i dunno i've been turning Psych on to play in the background lately so that i guess maybe lolol
📍are you using wireless or wired headphones? wired
📍are you going to take a nap or stay awake? i'm usually too anxious while traveling to sleep!
📍do you want a salty snack or a sweet snack? salty
📍we've arrived! are we heading straight to activities or are we gonna rest at the hotel? god hotel please
📍finally, pick a treat to reward yourself for a travel day well done! i want a big fuckin loadsworth of french fries thanks
_____________________
and now i shall tag some nuggets to get this game going!! join us for travel day or just consider this tag an affectionate nose boop 💖 @darlingian @too-schoolforcool @heymrspatel @suchagallabitch @tanktopgallavich @gallawitchxx @creepkinginc @suzy-queued @crossmydna @sam-loves-seb @the-rat-wins @thisdivorce @mickeysgaymom @transmickey @metalheadmickey @softmick @gardenerian @juliakayyy @mmmichyyy @rereadanon @lingy910y @energievie @vintagelacerosette @palepinkgoat @lee-ow @ardent-fox @purplemagpie @thepupperino @milkmaidovich @callivich @sickness-health-all-that-shit @howlinchickhowl @sleepyfacetoughguy @7x10mickey @themarchg1rl @auds-and-evens @tsuga-of-mars @scurvgirl @toddmccray and anyone else who wants to play -> @💟
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
Timeless - Peter Parker
A/N: Hello! Long time no see. Trying to get back into writing and was struck with the idea of creating fics inspired by Taylor Swift's work; however, that is a ginormous task. But in this thought process I was inspired to write this story. So alas, I present my first Taylor inspired fic. Who knows if or when they'll be more, but I hope you enjoy!
TS Prompt #1: Timeless (Taylor's Version)
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Synopsis: Peter and the reader fall into different love stories as they enter an antique shop.
Fall hits New York the same every year. Starbucks releases their pumpkin spice menu, the general public complain that it's too soon, and a week later colds and sweaters are no longer so far fetched. Central Park, once so green and full of life, turns dead and brown. There are fewer people on the street, or maybe it just seems so because they now huddle into one big mass to fight off the wind from the Hudson.
September 3rd, and you are tugging on a sweater you hadn't expected to use for weeks.
With the coming of fall also comes a new semester of college. A new year of classes, friends you'll only know for those four months, and long commutes to campus.
You take a glance in the mirror and brush back a stray strand of hair. As you check yourself over one last time, your phone buzzes on the counter next to you.
Peter: Coffee in hand, 3 minutes away.
You rush out of the bathroom, knocking the curling iron onto the floor, and tug on your shoes. Living on the thirteenth floor, it would take you almost three minutes just to get down to the lobby.
Hauling your back-pack over your shoulder, you blow a kiss to your cat and lock the door behind you.
Peter is walking to the front door as you come out of the stairwell. He smiles at you, holding out your coffee order.
"Hey," you say, a little out of breath. You lean in for a quick kiss and fall into pace together. "Thank you."
"Anytime. I figured coffee might make the first day back easier. Is that a new sweater?"
"It is. And it did," you say, taking a greedy sip of your drink. "What's your schedule looking like?"
"Nothing until 10, but then back to back classes. You?"
"I have a break around noon, but start first thing this morning."
"Excited?"
"I am," you said, looking at him. He smiles softly and takes your hand in his. "I like the first day - yeah there's nerves, but it's also full of new beginnings and hope."
"Including a new route," he says as you turn two blocks earlier than usual.
"My first class is on the far side of campus, this is a shortcut. You know, if your classes don't start until 10, you don't have to be here."
"I know," he says, smiling again. "And I can't promise that I will meet you every day at 8 to walk you to your class, but I'm happy to do it this morning."
"Walking me to class on my first day like a parent?" you ask with a laugh.
"Yes, and make sure you don't get to running away before I get that first day of school picture. I want it for our Christmas cards."
You're laughing as a window display catches your eye.
Timeless, the display reads, in large print newspaper clippings. The individually cut letters would typically look a little serial killer-y, but the shop had arranged a tsunami of old photos around it, making it look like a moment ripped out of time.
As Peter stops next to you, you realize the common theme of the display. In each photo, whether it's from the early 2000s or the 1930s, there is a couple in love. A woman with long hair and bellbottoms looks lovingly up at a man with a long beard and mustache strumming a ukulele. Christmas morning 1994, a man grins lovingly at his partner as he opens his PlayStation. Wedding dresses with big 80s sleeves, tea length gowns of the 1950s, and dancers in colorful geometric prints, all gazed back at the couple looking eagerly into the window.
"Let's go in," you say, practically subconciously.
"Aren't you worried you'll be late on your first day?"
"Aww, who gives a damn about ice breaker games?" you ask as you push open the door to the antique shop, the bell ringing in welcome. An old man at the register nods at the two of you, then goes back to his books.
"Look at all of these," you say, taking in the endless displays around you. The Timeless theme follows you inside. Not only do old photos cover every inch of the shop, but so do letters close to crumbling, porcelain trinket boxes that hold vintage rings, and clothes from every era imaginable.
"I wonder how long it took to collect all of this."
"Many, many years." You both jump as the man from behind the counter is now next to you. He holds a cane in one hand and his glasses in the other. "I've been working on this collection my whole life."
"It's incredible," you say with a smile. "Is it all for sale?"
"Most of it. Some of the pieces are from my own life that I won't part with. Did you notice the wedding picture in the window, bottom left corner?" he asks. You glance back towards the window and the shop owner laughs. "Of course you didn't. You could stare at it all day and still find new things. I do each day.
"Anyways, that's mine. Taken 40 years ago when I married my wife, Marjorie, right here in Queens. Don't believe I'll be parting with that any time soon. Just completes the collection.
"Well, look around the shop and let me know if you have any questions."
"Thank you," you both call as he makes his way back to the register. You exchange an amazed look with Peter.
"This is definitely worth missing ice breaker questions," he says. You laugh and lean up to kiss his cheek.
"I can't miss everything, but I think a few minutes in here are worth the delay."
You stroll away from him - both of your attentions caught by separate corners of the store. Peter wanders over to the small record section, the wall covered in Elvis posters, women draped effortlessly from his arms.
You decide to take a look at more of the photos. There are boxes upon boxes that look as if they haven't been opened in fifty years. There is no chance that even a third of them could fit on the walls of the shop.
You pick a box at random - a red photo box with a few scrapes along the side. Even looking through just the photos in this box would take hours. Thumbing through them, one catches on your thumb.
You pull it out and find a scene so familiar but unique all its own. Like the famous photo you saw in nearly every history class, a soldier kisses a woman in the 1940s. The streets around them are crowded, with other couples out of view embracing just the same.
The scene before you is a celebration and as you look at it closer, hoping to take in each and every detail, slowly the man's features shift to Peter's. No longer does the man have black hair. No longer is the woman he kissing the woman you first saw, she now looks just like you.
The streets are crowded. With trembling hands holding a small stack of letters, you look through the crowd, craning your neck to catch just one glimpse of him. All around you, loved ones are reuniting. Mothers are kissing their sons' foreheads. Women weep as they fall into the arms of their love.
Just as panic starts to grow inside you that maybe he's not back, that your prayers have not been answered, you see him. His brown hair is shining in the sun, his hat in his hands. His eyes, so full of hope, scan the crowd.
You cannot help the swell of emotions that come over you as you rush towards him. You knock elbows, mutter apologizes to the crowd as you make your way towards him. A few steps away, Peter sees you, too.
His smile grows into the breathtaking grin you love and missed so dearly, and before you can even process that he's safe, that he's home, you are crashing into his arms and his hands are in your hair.
You are melting in his touch as he kisses you. The long years of the war, the years of worrying, years of fearing every knock at the door, years of just one page of his words every few months, all slip away as the two of you come together.
His lips feel the same, which is somehow odd. How could all the years and all the changes you had both been through left this the same? Left this passion, this connection the same?
"Oh, I've missed you," he says, pulling away for air. You grin at him and kiss him again. Once, twice, three times until you are wrapped up in each other's arms again.
"Find anything good?"
Peter's voice jolts you out of your thoughts. Your pulse fluttering as if you truly were the women getting kissed in the photo, you show Peter what gripped your attention. He smiles and takes it gently from your hand. He looks at the inscription on the back you hadn't noticed.
"James and Dottie, 1944."
"It looks so much like that one we saw in school, but look at all of the people around them."
"So much love," he says, almost to himself. Your eyes meet and for some reason a slight blush covers your cheeks as you smile. The intensity of his stare becomes too much and you make your way down another aisle of the shop.
The shelves around you are full of books, some titles you recognize, some you don't, and some are so worn you wouldn't be able to even if it was your favorite. Once again, one stands out to you more than the others.
Half hanging off the shelf, a deep purple book draws you in. You take it off the shelf in a small cloud of dust. The inside of the cover reveals it is a romance, although that doesn't come as a surprise. You read at a whisper, "In the 1500s off in a foreign land, I am forced to marry another man . . ."
The walls surrounding you are tall and cold, the stone masonry reflecting the feeling in your chest. The white gown that drapes along your frame feels as heavy as chains.
At the end of this death march, the doors open upon a crowd full of people, your people, all dressed for the occasion. And there, at the end of the aisle is your betrothed.
But that man is not Peter.
The figure walking you down the aisle tries to usher you along when you come to a stop. Anxious eyes all around look at your frozen form..
"I can't do this."
The shock of what you've said gives your escort pause and you slip your arm away from his. Discarding the bouquet of roses, you take off back up the hallway.
Shouts follow as you run, gathering the skirts of your gown up in your hands, but you don't stop. Guards at the entrance of the castle reach for you, but guided by your heart, you are too quick for them.
The sun is shining when you break out of the castle, but you keep going. You go until your heart is thundering, your breathing comes fast, and Peter's cottage is in sight.
Even after the turmoil you experienced, just the sight of his home soothes you. You take a few steps up to his door and he opens it just as you raise your hand to knock.
"What are you--"
"I couldn't go through with it. I don't love him," you say. Peter lets out a surprised laugh, shaking his head gently.
"We talked about this. They'll come looking for you, Y/N."
"Then we'll run," you say, taking his hand in yours. "I don't care if we spend the rest of our days running, I prefer that to a life of luxury with someone I don't love."
"You mean it?'
"Yes."
"Then I'll keep you safe. For every second that we are together, for every moment that you are mine, I'll make sure no harm comes to you. I can't promise you riches, but you'll be safe."
"I gladly leave that all behind for you," you say. Peter is smiling as he closes the gap between you, his hands cupping your face as you melt into his touch.
You close the book with a secret smile and slip it back onto the shelf.
You know that you should leave, you are at least ten minutes late to class, and a few minutes walk from campus. But the shop has captured your heart, the stories embedded inside have.
"Y/N," Peter calls. You make your way towards his voice and as you do you pass more relics of the past. A photo of a 30's bride, high school sweethearts sitting on the porch of their first home, a young couple on the way to a dance.
"Hey."
"Hey, we should probably get going don't you think? You don't want to miss more of your first day."
"They are important," you say absentmindedly. Maybe it was because you had just slipped into fake memories, or maybe it was the fact that it was the first day of the semester, but looking at Peter, his hair mussed in a way that can only come from styling, a soft smile on his face, you were transported to the first day you met.
In a crowded room a few short years ago, on another September morning, first day of school, you lay eyes on Peter for the first time. Your fellow classmates are introducing themselves, the room filled with a dull hum of discussion, but your eyes only lock with his.
He smiles at you and moves your way. He holds out his hand and tells you his name, and somehow, you just knww. There's not always proof, there's not always a war or an arranged marriage. Sometimes, you just know.
"Yeah we should go," you agree. Peter leads the way to the door and holds it open for you. "I love you," you say, softly, and for the first time.
"I love you."
The temperature had risen since you entered the shop, but nevertheless, as you fall back into step together, Peter's arm is around yours and you know that one day, you'll have photos of the life you'll make, just like the ones in the shop.
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#spiderman#spiderman x reader#spiderman x you#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#peter parker fanfic#peter parker fanfiction#spiderman fanfic#spiderman fanfiction#ts prompts
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
🚄 w e e k ly 🌊 t a g ✨w e d n e s d a y ✈️
Thank you @deedala for putting it together this week! and thanks for the tags @juliakayyy @creepkinginc @mybrainismelted @michellemisfit
_____________________
Name: Jess (or J-rock as I randomly pronounce my own handle in my head like a weirdo)
Age: A little over a Nosho and a half (jumping on this train!)
Location: A cold winter tundra in which I'm afraid to go outdoors
we're going on a trip!! Thank fuck.
📍where are we going? Barbados
📍whats the weather like there right now? Hot and delightful
📍are you an over-packer or a light-packer? Over-packer. The last minute editing is real so I don't have to check a bag.
📍are we taking a plane or a train? Flying Neeeooowww 🛫
📍early morning departure or an overnight trip? Early morning. Sleep is for the weak, let's get to the beach. (I'm basically the spawn of satan before 9am so sorry if you're travelling with me lol)
📍what song are you playing in the car while we drive to catch our departure? I'm late so something for driving fast? Kendrick Lamar maybe. Or Greta Van Fleet.
📍we need to grab something on the way, starbucks or dunkin? Starbs as the kids say (do they?). I like the egg bites.
📍we've made it to the transportation place 🚂✈️! be honest, are we on-time or are we rushing because we're running late? Late. I've never been on-time to an airport in my Nosho-and-half-years. I travel a decent amount so I've gotten real lazy. I show up and basically walk on the plane.
📍are you taking the window seat or the aisle seat? Window!
📍we're settled in our seats, are you gonna read or watch a movie/show? A long period of time where no one will interrupt my reading? Hello Fanfic.
📍what are you reading/watching? So much fanfic. Although I once had to stop reading a Porn Star AU for fear of the people behind me looking at my kindle.
📍are you using wireless or wired headphones? Wireless
📍are you going to take a nap or stay awake? I miss being young and being able to sleep on planes. My long legs don't fit.
📍do you want a salty snack or a sweet snack? both? Yes.
📍we've arrived! are we heading straight to activities or are we gonna rest at the hotel? Pour me a cocktail and let me wander around the hotel. I always like to put my feet in the ocean.
📍finally, pick a treat to reward yourself for a travel day well done! Aforementioned cocktail and deep breaths of ocean air.
Also here's this cute picrew! It's sorta-accurate. The leather jacket and red lip certainly is.
Also I'm gonna tag you below - but as we recently chatting about in the fanfic discord. If I missed you, I didn't mean to! I love you all my mutuals. Consider yourself tagged if you see this. And if you don't want to participate you can unsubscribe at *fax dial-up sounds*.
Or I'm just waving hello! @ian-galagher @deathclassic @redwiccanrobin @mmmichyyy @stocious @skylerwinchester @mickeysgaymom @sgtmickeyslaughter @energievie @darlingian @thepupperino @skies-below @callivich @gallavichgeek @too-schoolforcool @guessiliedinthehook @cynfinsaa @bawlbrayker @rayrayor @ms-moonlight-inn @jessieoneday @crestfallercanyon @heymrspatel @such-a-barbarian @suchagallabitch @sluttygallavich
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
✨ w e e k l y t a g w e d n e s d a y ✨
i was tagged by @deedala @michellemisfit @creepkinginc @mybrainismelted @sleepyfacetoughguy @lingy910y 🥰
Name: julissa 💙
Age: 33
Location: new york
we're going on a trip!!
📍where are we going? i just came back from a cold city walking-all-day-everyday vacation, so i'm switching gears and picking somewhere warm in the caribbean where i can sit and sip fruity cocktails. let's do saint lucia! 🇱🇨
📍whats the weather like there right now? 82f ☀️
📍are you an over-packer or a light-packer? as much as i can overpack in a carry-on! no check-ins here!
📍are we taking a plane or a train? neeeeooowwww ✈️
📍early morning departure or an overnight trip? for this, i'd say early morning! so we can get there in time for check in and peak sun!
📍what song are you playing in the car while we drive to catch our departure? island in the sun by weezer 🏝️
📍we need to grab something on the way, starbucks or dunkin? local coffee shop! ooooorrrrr i'm full of energy and i'm brewin' and flippin' pancakes!
📍we've made it to the transportation place 🚂✈️! be honest, are we on-time or are we rushing because we're running late? we. are. early! i'm simply that person checked in and sitting with hours to spare. i need to make sure our gate is real and that it exists and that it's where it's supposed to be...
📍are you taking the window seat or the aisle seat? window please!
📍we're settled in our seats, are you gonna read or watch a movie/show? watch a movie!
📍what are you reading/watching? something funny and lighthearted. i wanna giggle!
📍are you using wireless or wired headphones? wired
📍are you going to take a nap or stay awake? nap. the answer is always nap!
📍do you want a salty snack or a sweet snack? sweet please!
📍we've arrived! are we heading straight to activities or are we gonna rest at the hotel? hotel for a bit for sure!
📍finally, pick a treat to reward yourself for a travel day well done! fruity cocktail with a little umbrella sticking out of it! 🍹
-------------
i was also tagged by @crossmydna @creepkinginc @metalheadmickey @michellemisfit @look-i-love-u to do this picrew 🥰
she's close i think? maybe?
for either or both or neither, i'll tag @whatthebodygraspsnot @whatwouldmickeydo @metalheadmickey @gallawitchxx @howlinchickhowl @rereadanon @mickeysgaymom @sam-loves-seb @darlingian @tanktopgallavich @mmmichyyy @too-schoolforcool @juliakayyy @sickness-health-all-that-shit @y0itsbri if you would like to play. if not, this is just me sharing the island vibes with you 🏝️☀️
#the urge to use the option with the little fangs was strong! but i'm following cross' challenge to make it as close to myself as possible#alas i can't actually hook my lil fangs over my bottom lip... i DO own this exact outfit though! heehee 😌#weekly tag wednesday#picrew
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
🚄 w e e k ly 🌊 t a g ✨w e d n e s d a y ✈️
happy wednesday!! Thanks @deedala for putting it together this week! and thanks for the tags @energievie, @creepkinginc, and @sam-loves-seb
_____________________
Name: Kat 😼
Age: won't be able to say this much longer, so.... twice a Nosho!
Location: Ontario, Canada
we're going on a trip!!
📍where are we going? Hmm, somewhere warm. Hawaii!
📍whats the weather like there right now? SUMMERRRRR!!!
📍are you an over-packer or a light-packer? for a trip to hawaii? pack all the stuff. like... everything. 2, just in case.
📍are we taking a plane or a train? Sadly, trains don't get us there, so we are flying 🛫
📍early morning departure or an overnight trip? overnight
📍what song are you playing in the car while we drive to catch our departure? Leavin' on a jetplane
📍we need to grab something on the way, starbucks or dunkin? There's no Dunkin' in Canada, so Starbucks it is!
📍we've made it to the transportation place 🚂✈️! be honest, are we on-time or are we rushing because we're running late? oh, I made sure we left like 2 hours before we needed to. So now we are bored, but hey, we're here!
📍are you taking the window seat or the aisle seat? Window seat, every time 🪟
📍we're settled in our seats, are you gonna read or watch a movie/show? watch a movie, probably 📽️
📍what are you reading/watching? ok, there's a movie on... but honestly I'm probably just looking out the window and daydreaming
📍are you using wireless or wired headphones? wired
📍are you going to take a nap or stay awake? stay awake
📍do you want a salty snack or a sweet snack? both? let's do both
📍we've arrived! are we heading straight to activities or are we gonna rest at the hotel? I REALLY need to lie down right now, so hotel it is
📍finally, pick a treat to reward yourself for a travel day well done! Pineapple!!!!!
tagging some folks to join us on our travels! If you'd rather stay home, that's ok too!
@juliakayyy, @krysmiss, @jrooc, @deathclassic, @spacerockwriting, @transmickey, @crossmydna, @stocious, @scurvgirl, @ifallonblackdays, @ms-moonlight-inn, @notherenewjersey, @ian-galagher, @darlingian, @suzy-queued, @francesrose3, @such-a-barbarian, @mickeysgaymom, @michellemisfit, @too-schoolforcool, @heymrspatel, @solitarycreaturesthey, @softmick, @jessieoneday, @gallavichsuperfan, and @thepupperino
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
🔱PERCY JACKSON BOOK QUOTES🔱
( quotes from across the percy jackson books. feel free to change names, pronouns, locations, etc. as needed ! )
“If my life is going to mean anything, I have to live it myself.”
“Where’s the glory in repeating what others have done?”
“With great power…comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.”
“Deadlines just aren’t real to me until I’m staring one in the face.”
“Sometimes the best we can do is to remind each other that we’re related for better or for worse… and try to keep the maiming and killing to a minimum.”
“Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing.”
“Humans see what they want to see.”
“The real world is where the monsters are.”
“Life is only precious because it ends, ___.”
“Getting something and having the wits to use it…those are two different things.
“I’m nobody’s sidekick.”
“Medusa is your mom? Dude, that sucks for you.”
“Every time I’m around you, some monsters attack us. What’s to be nervous about?”
“You weren’t able to talk sense into him?”
“Well, we kind of tried to kill each other in a duel to the death.”
“I see. You tried the diplomatic approach.”
“Excuse me, but if you’re going to kill me, could you just get on with it?”
“There is always a way out for those clever enough to find it.”
“Sugar and caffeine. My willpower crumbled.”
“Maybe it’s okay to still be a kid once in a while.”
“Behold! The god’s chosen beverage! Tremble before the horror of Diet Coke!”
"What could be worse than hummus?"
“Like the zodiac sign? I’m a leo.”
"Hercules, huh? That guy was like the Starbucks of Ancient Greece. Everywhere you turn--there he is."
"Delaying death is one of my favorite hobbies."
“I try not to think, it interferes with being nuts.”
“What if we promoted, like, Adidas shoes? Would that make Nike mad enough to show up?"
“You think it’s ok we’re eating Rudolph?”
“Dude, I’m hungry. I could eat Prancer and Blitzen too.”
"I can see the stars again, ___."
"I appreciate the offer, but my mom told me not to accept curses from strangers."
"I'd had years of practice looking dumb when people threw out names I didn't know. It's a skill of mine.”
“I didn't understand how, but the toilets had responded to me. I had become one with the plumbing.”
“Back in my day we died all the time, and we liked it.”
"Don't I get a kiss for good luck?"
“You, Me. To the Finish line.”
“You're cute but you're not my type.”
"You're death would be great for me."
“But remember, ___, that a kind act can sometimes be as powerful as a sword.”
"It's okay. We're together."
“I’m sure you both would’ve been wonderful at killing each other. But right now, you need some rest.”
“So…you knew you liked me from that moment?”
“I hated you at first. You annoyed me. Then I tolerated you for a few years. Then—”
“Besides, ___, I just thought we could take a walk. We haven’t had any time to be together alone. I want to show you something—my favorite place."
“Save yourselves! It is too late for us!”
"Come on, let me introduce you to my other family.”
“Lots of death, huh? Personally, I'm trying to avoid lots of death, but you guys have fun!”
“Being a hero doesn’t mean you’re invincible. It just means that you’re brave enough to stand up and do what’s needed.”
“Hmm… I can call a friend for a ride.”
“Oh, yeah? Me too. Let's see whose friend gets here first.”
“Please, ___... change your clothes. You smell like you've been run over by an electric horse.”
#rp sentence meme#rp sentence starters#rp meme#roleplay prompt#ask memes#( this has been in my drafts since early april )#mine.
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
🚄 w e e k ly 🌊 t a g ✨w e d n e s d a y ✈️
Thank you as always to @mybrainismelted and @jrooc for the tags!
_____________________
Name: Kell
Age: mid to late 30s
Location: the great white north!
we're going on a trip!! woot woot!
📍where are we going? Seeing as this time next week I will be Mexico, let's go early!
📍whats the weather like there right now? Warm and Sunny!
📍are you an over-packer or a light-packer? oh boy - chronic over-packer! Why do I need 10 pairs of underwear for a 7 day trip when I will be in swimsuit 90% of time? I DON'T KNOW OK!
📍are we taking a plane or a train? I don't think you can get there by train and if you could it would take far too long. Plane it is!
📍early morning departure or an overnight trip? Seeing as there is no time change between here and there I prefer early morning. If there was a significant time change then I'd prefer overnight.
📍what song are you playing in the car while we drive to catch our departure? Probably whatever is on the radio.
📍we need to grab something on the way, starbucks or dunkin? Neither. I don't drink coffee. But since we are on an early morning flight I am stopping at McDonalds for a McMuffin and a hashbrown
📍we've made it to the transportation place 🚂✈️! be honest, are we on-time or are we rushing because we're running late? on-time. In fact, I am probably over an hour early. Being late gives me the most anxiety. If I'm not somewhere at least 10 minutes early I panic.
📍are you taking the window seat or the aisle seat? Window for sure. 1) I love watching the world get small. 2) I need to know when we are about to hit the tarmac.
📍we're settled in our seats, are you gonna read or watch a movie/show? Unlike my trip next week, for this pretend trip my kids aren't with me, so in that case I will be reading.
📍what are you reading/watching? So much fanfic. I currently have 92 fics on the "marked for later" list, so probably one of those.
📍are you using wireless or wired headphones? wired. I do not own wireless headphones. Actually, I'll be lucky if I can find my wired ones before the flight...
📍are you going to take a nap or stay awake? Chances are pretty good I will fall asleep at some point.
📍do you want a salty snack or a sweet snack? both? Yes. (excellent choice Jess)
📍we've arrived! are we heading straight to activities or are we gonna rest at the hotel? Head to the hotel just long enough to drop the suitcases and change into a swimsuit, then it's immediately to the beach for me.
📍finally, pick a treat to reward yourself for a travel day well done! Something fruity and slushy and alcoholic with a tiny umbrella.
Also including this picrew! Forever in a hoodie.
tagging @francesrose3 @juliakayyy @tanktopgallavich @transmickey @babygirlmickey @zutaralesbian @lupeloto and @krysmiss if ya wanna.
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
further thoughts on old sewing machines
I've read the replies and comments on the thing I reblogged about sewing machines and planned obsolescence / "they don't make 'em like they used to." You know me, I have more words to offer, and the basis here is the people saying "damn, I want one", "wow, how can I get one for reasonable?" and "you can get parts?" Read on...
First, let me show you what my friend sent me yesterday in a text. She was so jazzed that she wanted me to see it, and she doesn't even know I run a blog like this.
So here you see a White trundle sewing machine from the late 1910s to early 1920s. You can also see that it was either taken very good care of or completely restored, or both, and you have little doubt in looking at the first picture that it'll put together a prom dress or hem your cuffs at a moment's notice, and this isn't just a museum piece. In the below, I'm not just talking about the big ol' centagenarians, I mean pre-1990 Singers and everything inbetween.
You ask: Where can I find a hardy old sewing machine?
The obvious answer of antique stores aside, you can find them in thrifts. Not necessarily Goodwill because they're capitalists who have tried to get away from furniture and heavy stuff, but most of the others have them and I warn you that you may have to cut a bitch (or be cut) if one shows up at Deseret Industries. I wish I still had the photo of the time a now-departed St. Vincent de Paul near me had TWO different White models on the floor, each for less than what some people pay for Starbucks in a week, and my memory says that if they didn't spin like a top right that second a couple hours with household products and maybe a Google search plus shipping time would have these things in a functional state your great-grandmother would approve of. It's a regular thing that I go into thrifts and there's a sewing machine case on a low shelf near the electronics that is older than your mother and twice as reliable.
You ask: How much will this set me back?
Depends upon where you're shopping. Obviously antique stores will have them for more than thrifts, and sometimes you find them at estate sales (again, expect to cut a bitch) for either an antique price or a "take it away" solid price. Consider it a great day if you spend $10-$25 to get this off someone's shelf and out of someone's life.
You ask: Repairs and maintenance, what about that?
I don't know a lot about the mechanics but the older they are, the simpler they get. Resources are out there on how to fix problems (books and YouTube videos) and obtain parts, and professionals exist who live to do both. You probably know someone who has machine sewed for decades; you could ask them for insight on how to get things back into shape. People in comments on that post named some sources for replacement parts after others said they were stymied by trying to find the doodad they needed.
You didn't ask: You seem to have some passion about this despite not being a sewing machine owner or user. What machines did you grow up with?
My sainted grandmother had a 1960s Singer 401A. (Photos are NOT of her machine, I nabbed them from teh interweb.)
My mother still has and uses periodically her 1970s Singer 758. (Again, not my photo and I haven't seen hers out when I've visited lately.)
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gwendoline christie x god daughter reader
Name: (silly cow )
Warning: none just ( name calling) ( dirty jokes) ( fluff) *indecent language*
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
"Give me back my purse y/n!" Gwen shouted while running down the stairs and into the kitchen, chasing after you.
You quickly ran behind the counter and she stood on the other side. She glared at you and you glared right back. At this point you were just getting on her nerves, nothing was funny anymore.
" I'm not playing this game with you again y/n give me back my purse now!" she shouted while pointing a finger at you.
You couldn't help but giggle, you loved making her mad. She was cute when she was mad. Very cute. The way her eyes would lit up, her eyebrows furrowed, it was alluring. You came out of your trance when you heard her sigh heavily.
Looking up you saw on her the counter, looking down at you with a evil smirk. And at the moment you knew you fucked up.
" it didn't have to be this way my darling girl" she said. her British accent was very captivating, it was strong as fuck. You would be lying to yourself if you said you wouldn't have dated her if she wasn't your God mother.
She suddenly jumped down from the counter and unto you. All her body weight pushing you to the ground. You swore you saw your life flash before your eyes.
She sat on top of your hips,making sure to put all her body weight down on you so you won't be able to get up from beneath her and run off again.
She immediately snatched her purse from your grip holding it above her head with one hand while the other hand was pushing your chest back to stop you from getting up.
"What the bloody hell is going on here ladies?" Asked giles as he stood in the doorway of the kitchen. "Gwen is being a asshole" you shouted, she immediately turned to look at you with her mouth slightly open in utter disbelief.
" y/n is being a bitch" she shouted back at you, while getting off of you. After gaining back your strength you got up off of the floor as well, after all you were all going out and you didnt want to dirty your clothes.
" please gwen just buy me some cookies and Starbucks and I'll leave you and your old 1956 purse alone" you said while pouting and giving her doe eyes. " its actually 1958 darling" she muttered and you giggled.
She looked at you and smiled softly." What will I do without you babes" she said throwing her arms around you and pulling you into a hug. You allowed your self to melt into her. Her hugs were always the best. You placed your head into the croke of her neck and kissed her softly, before looking up at her.
" you'd be very miserable and depressed" you whispered softly brushing strands of her blonde hair out of her face. She chuckled softly and kissed your cheek gently.
" hate to ruin this lovely moment guys but we are running terribly late" giles said picking up the car key. " alright let's go old man" you said biting your lip to hold in a laugh. He turned around and gaved you a sheepish look before his lips curled into a smile.
"Kids am I right babe" he said as he scoffed looking at gwen, " she's my baby" she said defending you as she hugged you tighter. Giles rolled his eyes and walked outside. Soon after you heard the alarm to the car go off.
You heard the door open and close then the engine to the g wagon started up. Gwen placed her hands on both sides of your face forcing you to look at her" I love you darling" she said rubbing her nose on yours as she placed her forehead on yours.
" so much that you'd but me cookies and Starbucks?" You asked smiling, " so much that if the world up for sale I would have bought it just for you" she whispered, and kissed your cheek.
*honk honk* giles was angry so angry that was was honking the honk at you guys to get out of the house. You both laughed while rushing out and locking the door.
" gwendoline what's taking so long" giles shouted from outside the gate. " I'm coming darling" she shouted back while making sure she had everything in her bag. " well come faster" giles said. Gwendoline looked at you biting her lips hoping that you didn't take that the wrong way.
But in fact you did. Your mind was to dirty to not to have tooken it the wrong way. You both busted out laughing. She got in and car and so did you and giles drove off.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
#larissa weems fanfic#gwendoline christie#fanfic#fypシ゚viral#larissa weems x female reader#love#cute#wednesday#gwendolineuniverse#larissa weems
64 notes
·
View notes
Note
59. Do you need a hug? You just seem very upset over the shape of these potatoes.
I was telling my family about this the other day! It's so funny!
The driver didn't comment when Carrie all but threw her bag into the car before getting in. He didn't have to. Her mood said it all. She'd managed to keep a smile on her face as she saw the other girls off, their parents picking them up, or carpooling in Heather and Kayla's case because Heather's mom's car was in the garage.
The driver also didn't comment when she told him to take her to the diner, instead of straight home. Even though her dad always told him to take her straight home.
Well, it's not like her dad showed up, so he didn't get a say. He probably wasn't even home to scold her about being home late. And Julian knew that Carrie would buy him whatever he wanted from Starbucks Monday morning if he complied.
So off to the diner they went.
It wasn't fair, they worked so hard on their routine, and then all of a sudden stupid Double Trouble had to show up and blow everyone out of the water, and Andi Parker from Destiny Management had given her the brush off, and it wasn't fair. Julie hadn't sang a note in a year and then all of a sudden Flynn moved back to LA and she was fine again? Carrie hadn't been enough for her, but Double Trouble came out of nowhere and stole her spotlight at the spirit rally and now Eats and Beats and Julie's dad had been there when Carrie's dad hadn't even read the text message reminding him of her performance tonight.
All she wanted was a chocolate milkshake and some curly fries. Sure, she should probably order strawberry, since she was still in her Pink Candi wig, and what if someone took a picture of her? But she needed chocolate, and curly fries, and she needed them now.
"What do you mean there aren't any curly fries left?" she all but shouted at the stupid guy behind the counter with the flicky hair.
"We only have crinkle cut left," the guy shrugged. He wasn't even wearing the uniform correctly, with his stupid biceps and his lack of sleeves. Curly's diner always had long sleeved shirts with pretty shiny red buttons at the cuffs and the collar. They had ever since her dad took her here as a kid.
"This is Curly's Diner. It's known for its curly fries!" She resisted the urge to stomp her foot, but it was a close call.
"Do you need a hug?" The guy behind the counter asked, and Carrie knew he was being sarcastic, she invented the fake-sweet insult. But the question made her lip wobble all the same. Because yes, maybe she could. "You just seem very upset over the shape of these potatoes."
"Shut up and get me my damn milkshake," she choked out, except as she did, the tears she was holding back started to spill from her eyes.
"Oh no," the guy behind the counter said. "Oh no, don't cry. I'm sorry about the fries. I can try and put them in a circle or something, please don't cry."
"Fuck," Carrie said, dabbing angrily at her tears, trying to keep her mascara from running. "Never mind, I can't - I can't be seen like this." She threw twenty bucks at him, because someone had probably started on the milkshake already, and went to leave, when she noticed some girls near the exit whispering and pointing. One of them took out her phone.
Diner Guy seemed to notice too, because he ducked under the counter and grabbed her arm leading her into the back.
"What the hell Patterson?" a blonde guy with the manager's badge said.
"Come on, Alex, she's crying," Diner Guy said, and he threw some epic puppy eyes. "You know I panic when girls cry! Reggie! We need that chocolate milkshake stat!"
"I'm not crying," Carrie sniffled. A milkshake was pressed into her hand, with the signature curly straw and not one but two cherries on top.
"You looked like you could use a second one," the guy, Reggie, said, giving her a wink. She sullenly grabbed one of the bright red maraschino cherries and chewed it. They were her favourite, even though they were so bad for you. "Whatever happened, he's not worth it."
"I'm not crying over a guy," Carrie glared, even though maybe part of her was. It was just not a boyfriend kind of guy. "Not that I'm crying."
"Of course not," Patterson soothed. "But if you wanna talk about it, we can listen. And make you some fries. Even if they're not curly."
She sniffled, ready to tell him to buzz off, but somehow, the whole story spilled out. About her best friend who pushed her away even though she was hurting too. About how she tried to form her own group, but the other girls just treated it like a hobby, something they did on the side, when music and proving herself was all Carrie could think about. About how she wasn't sure her dad would even care if she made it big or not.
"I get it," Patterson said. She glared at him. As if some diner dude would understand the pressures of the music industry. "My parents never supported our band either. And getting your name out there is hard, let alone being noticed!"
"You're in a band?" she asked.
"Sunset Curve," came a shout from across the kitchen where the other guy was flipping burgers. "Tell your friends!"
Their conversation turned to music after that. Luke showed Carrie a recording of their last performance, which was good. Very 90s rock, but not in a bad way. She was a bit hesitant to show her own recording, but Patterson just gasped and called: "Yo Alex you gotta see this!"
The manager popped his head back into the kitchen. "I would but SOMEONE left the counter unattended," he scolded.
"Yeah, yeah," Patterson got up, moving back to the front so Alex could come to the back. He was super interested in her dance moves, and they had a great talk about choreography and dance. By the end of her milkshake, she was laughing at his story about the three of them trying to perfect the Dirty Dance lift.
Eventually, Luke popped back in to tell her the coast was clear and 'some dude in a tie is very worried we kidnapped you and are holding you hostage in the walk in freezer.' She checked her make-up in a stainless steel baking sheet Reggie helpfully held up for her, and then walked back out with her head held high.
"Keep the change," she said.
Maybe she should come to the diner more often. You know, just to see if they had curly fries.
#julie and the phantoms#carrie wilson#fanfic#luke patterson#alex mercer#reggie peters#how do you do the plot of jatp without the ghosts?#this was interesting to write#also this started out as 'carrie and luke' and then the other two himbos were like: um we come as a set#I wrote a thing
11 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
toxic-gem-blog
Queen of Poisons, Poison of Kings
ghosts-and-glory
Grievous Mistake
iheartrm
Running Man & Prince of Asia
erwachsenesprachreisen-blog
Erwachsene Sprachreisen