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#Travis has done it again
hammer-n-tails · 2 years
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Taz steeplechase spoilers but
I feel like Beef Punchley is the spiritual successor to Magnus Burnsides and I cannot wait
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theamazingannie · 2 months
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People saying they got the ick cuz Travis was shouting and being cringe after he won the Super Bowl but as someone who, at home in my house in my pjs, jumped around the house yelling “MICHIGAN SWEEP” after every Lions and Michigan game this season, personally I’m prepared to let a little cringe slide
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liltaz-asatreat · 1 year
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Binging Amnesty is all fun and games until you hit the end of the Calamity Tree arc and you start the beginning of the snowball effect- well. The Calamity Tree arc was the beginning of the snowball effect tbh. The interlude after is just the start of the snowball picking up speed lol :/
#gotta start preparing to say goodbye to Ned again and steel myself for the stress of the Pine Guard trying to scramble to contain the#secret and failing miserably#both of which I am still always never ready for#and I love how sometimes Travis steps out of the moment to share with the audience that he's feeling conflicted because he has the moment#of 'just be open and honest in communication and tell everyone everything' while still having his character not do that because he just#doesn't know who to trust#but honestly?#I have never experienced that the times he's done that#like; when I was listening through Balance the first time; and he was expressing that about telling the Director about the statue design#I was like fuck no are you kidding??? because I highly doubted that whatever she was keeping secret was going to be any good and was a#situation where it was just a lack of communication thing that would be fixed if everyone talked and I was fully convinced she was somehow#the main villain; and saying anything to her would end badly and there was no way she was going to say anything; at least without it ending#up with someone dying because they kicked off the end game too early or something#but with amnesty; Travis *didn't* do that; mean while I was literally pulling my hair out anytime Ned did literally anything#the shapeshifter even breathed in A Direction; didn't matter where; and every conversation the pine guard had about bringing people in#especially because it always resulted in like; half of the people agreeing there should be some sort of talk with the Hornets in particular#but like; also anyone#and then they FUCKING DIDN'T DO IT#god that arc was so stressful to listen through the first time#I was also in the middle of packing to move out of my apartment at the time when I was first listening to it; so like; it was A Time#the only other time I remember being as stressed out listening to taz as I was for that whole arc was the Ethersea episode where they were#in the clam and Amber was fighting the blink shark; Zoox was having his psychic battle/hug/identity crisis with the clam; and Devo fucking#did the thing with the shrink magic and depth charge#fucking hell was that the most stressful episode I ever heard#anyway; I'm rambling#I need to get back to listening to Amnesty#to prepare for a fic I'm going to write#taz#taz amnesty
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mediumgayitalian · 19 days
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“Oh, fuck.”
The clatter of her practice sword on the ground is almost louder than the crunch that rings out from his wrist. He inhales sharply, biting back a shout — no matter how many times it’s happened, he will never get used to breaking a bone. That shit hurts.
“Fuck, fuck fuck. Fuck, Seaweed Brain, is it broken?”
“Think so,” Percy grits out. He tries for a smile, and Annabeth matches it, small and worried. He leans into the hand she cups over his cheek. “Not too bad, though. If I just dump my water bottle on it —”
“Absolutely not. Water healing leaves you achey when it rains, you know that.” Shifting to wrap her arm around his waist, she helps him stand, shouldering some of his weight like it’s his ankle that’s broken. He lets her, reaching down to squeeze the hand resting on his hip — I’m fine. We’re good. She turns her hand to wrap clasp their hands together — Okay. If you’re sure.
They walk together to the infirmary, taking their time. Aside from the pain pulsing from his arm, it’s not too bad — camp is as balmy as usual, and the spring break energy is practically visible, it’s so potent. The Demeter cabin has plants growing everywhere, flowers and fruit trees blooming as bright as a box of new crayons, and the air is filled with shouts of laughter and teasing. Annabeth’s steps fall in time with his, and she’s a comfortable warmth at his side, pressed from shoulder to hip.
“You still okay?”
“Yep.” He catches her eye, smiling crookedly at her. “Doesn’t even make my top fifty.”
She rolls her eyes, hipchecking him. “Don’t I know it, ya klutz.”
“Not sure I would call being flung from the St. Louis Arch being a klutz. Or exploded in a volcano. Or crushed under the sky. Or slashed by giants. Or chased by —”
“You’re talking, but all I’m hearing is Annabeth, please, please pinch me, as hard as you can —”
“Hey! Get those claws off me, gods you’re worse than an empousai —”
“— and when you’re done pinching me please put me in the tightest headlock you can manage —”
“I am injured! You are beating up an injured person right now!”
“— and then please just bite a chunk out of my shoulder —”
“Cut it out or I’m telling Mom!”
“Wimp,” she taunts, finally releasing him. “I don’t go running to Sally every time I lose a fight.”
“Wha — you do so!”
She ducks through the infirmary door, smirking like she can’t hear him.
“You literally — you snitched on me last week! I got grounded for two days!”
“And you deserved it,” she says primly.
He gapes. “I did not!”
“Anytime you two are done,” Kayla drawls, shoving a clipboard at them. They accept it with matching sheepish grins, cowed at her perfectly arched eyebrow and slowly tapping foot. “I got patients to deal with and older brothers to harass. Let’s get this moving.”
She is shockingly good at humbling people for a thirteen year old. The two of them turn to their clipboard, chagrined, letting her stomp away with an exasperated He’ll be with you soon! Don’t set off the sprinklers again!
“That was one time,” Percy mumbles, ears reddening.
Annabeth pats him on the back. “There, there,” she says mockingly. “The fact that it was one time definitely negates the fact that you flooded the entire Big House because you got jumpscared by a child.”
“Harley can be sneaky, okay. Let me live.”
“Literally no.”
Annabeth does most of the paperwork for him, ‘cause she’s a nerd because his wrist is far too swollen for him to write properly, so it takes maybe half the time it normally would. The infirmary is crowded as Hell, though (he knows, he’s been), so they settle in for the wait, amusing themselves by tearing little pieces off of a blank form, balling them up, and tossing them in increasingly harder places. Percy is winning 7-4, although Annabeth might just pull through if she manages to toss her paper ball into Travis’ wide-open snoring mouth.
“Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait.”
Aw. She missed. Percy was looking forward to that.
“Hey, Will.”
He drags his attention away from the son of Hermes to greet his friend, but frowns before he can open his mouth.
“Woah, dude, you good? You look exhausted.”
Will snorts. “Welcome to spring break, man.” He holds his hand out for the clipboard, scanning it briefly. “Sparring injury? Oh, thank the gods. I could use a break. Here, face me.”
He climbs up onto the minimal left over space on the cot, tucking his legs under his thighs. Percy turns to mirror him, hesitantly sticking out his arm — A break? he mouths to Annabeth, meeting her eyes over Will’s head.
She shrugs.
“Just spent four hours putting Jake’s nose back on his face,” Will mumbles, placing a careful hand on his fingertips and his forearm. Percy flinches — his skin is blisteringly hot. Like someone just dropped a hot stone onto him. “I never want to sing a skin cell hymn again in my life.” He prods at Percy’s wrist for a moment, gentle enough not to hurt. “Okay, hold still, I’m gonna fix ya right up.”
Healing hymns are familiar, by now, but Percy will never get tired of them.
The cool thing about ambrosia and nectar is that as pleasure food for the gods, it’s pleasant. It’s whatever taste you want, whatever you need to have most, you get it. But healing hymns are intentional the way nectar and ambrosia aren’t. Ambrosia and nectar happen to be healing for demigods — healing hymns were constructed to knit you back together, like you mother smoothing a bandaid over a skinned knee. They’re warm and sweet and deeply, endlessly comforting in a way most things simply cannot claim to be. They don’t feel like a medical procedure or a hasty patch job, they feel like someone gripping you tightly and promising you’ll be okay. They feel like getting carried to bed when you fall asleep on the couch. They feel like sitting down after hours of standing, like a drink of water when your throat is drier than sand. Healing hymns draw the pain and sick and ache from your body, and they feel like relief.
But this time, Percy can’t focus on it.
With every word, Will seems to get a little duller. Nothing like the horrible ash-grey he went in the war, dragging the poison from Annabeth’s body, but like his usual sunny disposition was dialed down a few notches. Enough that Annabeth frowns in concern, drumming her hands on her thighs, watching him closely.
“There,” Will says, pulling away. Percy turns his now-healed wrist, noticing the slight pant to Will’s breath, the strain to his smile. The shake of his blistered fingertips.
“You look overworked,” Annabeth says quietly.
Will holds his hands up in a what can you do gesture. “Spring break.”
“You said.”
“It’s just busy, is all.”
“Yeah, but —”
“Guys,” he interrupts, smiling tiredly, “there are two hundred ADHD demigods at this camp right now who have been trapped in a classroom for six months. There are three of us. I’m going to be a little drained; we’re all a little drained. But I’m fine, okay?” He gives them a second to scrutinize his expression, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I have been running my infirmary for years. I know how to pace myself, and I certainly know how to make sure my siblings are pacing themselves. If something goes really wrong, Chiron is a whistle away. I can go longer than you guys without sleep, anyway. Apollo kid health.”
“If you say so,” Percy says reluctantly. “I just — I can wear a wrist brace, man. Not every injury needs to be handled when it happens. You can tell people no.”
“I appreciate that, Percy, and I’ll keep it in mind. Anyways, I’ve got more patients. Stay off that wrist for the rest of the day, okay? It might be tender for a bit.”
Percy turns to Annabeth as Will leaves, frowning. He’s has never noticed the so-called spring break stress before (his camp spring breaks are usually a blast, but now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t think of a single spring break where he spent any time at all with Will, which is odd), but it can’t be good for him. There’s gotta be something they can do to ease some of the bruising under their friend’s eyes.
“I could set off the fire alarms again,” Percy suggests. “That’ll certainly get this place cleared out.”
Annabeth snorts. “I think that’ll cause more harm than good, Seaweed Brain. It’ll just fall in him to clean it all up, after.”
“Shoot.”
Percy counts nine of the forty cots currently unused. Will, Kayla, and Austin are rushing from cot to cot, handing out nectar, wrapping bandages, rattling off hymns at light speed. All three of them look exhausted, squeezing shoulders when they pass each other, knocking hips, exchanging tired smiles. This is so clearly something they’re used to.
Annabeth’s head rests on his shoulder.
“It wasn’t always like this,” she whispers. “When it was fully staffed…”
Percy exhales heavily. Yeah. He remembers. There was a lot less complication, once upon a time. The most chaotic the infirmary would get was when Lee would challenge his siblings to Hymn Karaoke — trying to heal with pop songs. There was a lot more laughter, at one point. A lot more people.
Percy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. It never does well to dwell, but he — gods, he wish they all had more time. To sit with it, to acknowledge…everything. Siblings. Friends. A camp that’s smaller than it’s supposed to be.
Annabeth squeezes his hand again, and he squeezes back, resting his head on top of hers.
“Hey,” she murmurs after a moment, pursing her lips at the front door. “Look.”
Slinking through the entrance like a criminal is Nico, in all his dork ass black camp shirt glory. He looks around shiftily, like he’s trying to make sure no one sees him, and when his gaze lands on Percy and Annabeth his eyes widen. Annabeth smiles at him, but it does nothing to ease the spooked look to his face, back arched like a startled cat. He turns to leave, but before he can slip back out the door —
“Nico!”
The son of Hades whips back around so quickly he brains himself on the doorframe. Percy ducks his head and bites his lip, hard, because he can feel Nico’s glare at the side of his head like the press of hot coal, and if he laughs as badly as he wants to then the infirmary is about to look like a Spirit Halloween.
Will turns back to his patient, squeezing his eyes shut and rattling a hymn off so quickly it makes a burst of light pop from his whole body, and rushes over to where Nico’s standing. He only trips over two things, which is remarkable for him. Percy would be proud if he wasn’t a little embarrassed on his behalf.
“Nico! Hi!”
“He-ey, Will,” Nico says, voice cracking badly on every vowel. Annabeth shoves her face into Percy’s shoulder, body shaking.
“I didn’t know you were coming! I thought you were in the arena all day.”
Nico shrugs, shoes scuffing the floor. “I am. I just — uh, I got hurt? So. Came to see you.”
Will’s beam is so bright it hurts to look at, a little. Percy squints and realises that’s not just the excitement, actually — he really is glowing, faintly. His hands flap slightly at his sides.
“Well, you’re in the right place, then.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of them say anything for a minute, rocking back on their heels. Will watches Nico closely, biting his lip. Nico looks resolutely at the floor.
“We weren’t this bad,” Annabeth whispers, “were we?”
Percy shakes his head. “Nah, there’s no way.”
“Gods. It’s so — I don’t know whether to smile or take a dip in the Lethe. It’s embarrassing and endearing at the same time.”
“Painful to watch, but I can’t stop looking,” Percy agrees.
“What’d you hurt?” Will asks, finally. “Did you pull your shoulder again?”
A look of panic flits briefly across Nico’s face until he smooths it to something neutral, aloof.
“Yep. Totally. During — sword fighting, I swung — I did this really big thrust, actually. Just — hugely powerful, training dummy exploded on impact.” He clears his throat. “Some might say too powerful. If you can imagine.”
Percy cradles his head in his hands. “Oh my gods — ”
“Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh,” Annabeth chants, “oh my gods, don’t laugh —”
A light flush dusts Will’s cheeks. He brushes a strand of hair behind his ear, fiddling with his earrings. “Woah, really? I’ve never heard of that before.”
Nico smirks, standing up a little straighter. “Well, it’s not the first time. I tend to go pretty hard.” Remembering his supposedly hurt shoulder, he exaggerates a wince. “Too hard sometimes, I guess. Could you do the — the energy thing?”
“Oh — gods, yeah, sorry. Hold on.” He stares at Nico’s shoulder, hesitating. “It, um, works better with skin-to-skin contact.”
“I have seen crystal vases less transparent,” Annabeth says, aghast. “In two years he’s going to remember this and try to drown himself.”
“I will be counting down the days,” Percy says gleefully.
On rare, rare occasions, the gods answer his prayers. Clearly, both Nemesis and Aphrodite are looking at him kindly today. Percy makes a note to scrape some of the good stuff off his plate for them both today. Hell, maybe he’ll skip the portioning and toss them an entire roast chicken each. Or something. They deserve it.
Will places both hands — interesting, Percy notes, his wrist was snapped cleanly in two and he only needed one hand, wonder why that was — on Nico’s shoulder and closes his eyes, screwing up his face in concentration.
“Huh. I’m not feeling much damage. You said it was your right shoulder?”
“I heal quick,” Nico says loudly. “I mean, some of the damage might have — um.” He clears his throat. His face glows a faint crimson. He clears his throat again. “Y’know?”
Will’s face is a similar shade.
“Right, right. Yeah. Um, brace yourself.”
Instead of starting to sing, Will closes his eyes, holding completely still. After a moment, the tips of his fingers begin to glow; soft, ambery yellow, flickering like lit candles. He opens his eyes again and focuses intently on Nico’s bare skin, tracing patterns around every defined muscle, leaving a trail of light behind. He lingers, for a moment, when he connects the last string of light, waiting until it has faded entirely from Nico’s skin to remove his hands and shove them in the pockets of his coat.
“That better?” he asks softly.
Nico swallows. “Yeah.”
“Good. I’m glad, Nico. It means a lot that you — came to me. When you needed it.”
“I trust you, I guess.” Nico looks away. “You know what you’re doing.”
“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Percy says thoughtfully.
Annabeth laughs, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t be mean.” She pauses. “Me too.”
With a sigh that can only be described as besotted, Will steps reluctantly away.
“I have patients,” he says, in the same tone of voice Percy usually says I have midterms. “So I gotta…”
“Yeah, no, go. Do your —” Nico gestures vaguely. “Doctor thing.”
“Right. Yeah. I’m gonna — go.” He turns, walking back towards a group of Hephaestus kids who appear to be tightly entangled in some kind of net. After a few steps, though, he pauses, biting his lip, then darts back over to Nico, pressing a lightning-fast kiss to his cheek — “Um, bye. Thank you for visiting. Bye,” — and then runs back over to his siblings, shy smile on his face.
Nico’s jaw is brushing the floor of his father’s palace. He stands, still as a statue, for four entire minutes.
“I think he just died,” Annabeth observes, eyebrows climbing higher and higher up her forehead with every passing second “Damn. Survived so much only to literally die because a cute boy kissed his cheek. A true hero’s end.”
Percy, because he is a kind, concerned friend, clears his throat loudly.
“Yo, di Angelo, you alive?”
Nico startles so violently he falls right over. Percy shoves his fist in his mouth to keep from cackling.
“Shut the fuck up,” Nico hisses venomously, scrambling upright. “Both of you, shut the — not a word —”
Percy and Annabeth make the mistake of looking at each other and simply erupt. Percy can’t feel his stomach. His lungs have abandoned ship. He’s glad as hell he’s in the infirmary because he is heaving for breath, tears streaming down his face, entire body convulsing. Nico stands in front of them literally shaking with rage, entire body redder than one of Apollo’s sacred cows, trying and failing to string together a threat that will ease any and all of his suffering. Annabeth screeches, almost falling off the bed as she cackles. Percy cannot even find the strength to catch her, his muscles are so weak.
“I fucking — I hate you! Both of you! You’re dead to me!”
“Your face!” Percy shrieks.
“Percy Jackson, I am going to turn you to fucking dark matter! I despise your very essence! I —” He stomps his foot. “I’m leaving, and I’m going to leave a rotting corpse in your cabin! Screw you!”
“Oh my gods,” Annabeth wheezes, digging her nails into his arm. “Oh my gods, that was —”
Percy wipes a tear from his eye. “I love being alive. I love being alive so much.”
“It really is great.” Composing herself, and biting back the leftover giggles that keep bubbling out, Annabeth looks back towards Will. He stands much straighter, now, smile back to full brightness. His siblings, too, look rejuvenated, snickering to each other and making kissy faces behind Will’s back. “So many beautiful things to witness. I’ve never seen his face go that red.”
Percy sighs. “This is genuinely going to carry me through the semester. I think his soul died a little. And Will just — gods, that kid is bold.”
“Oh says you, Mr. Do I Get A Good Luck Kiss.”
“Hey, I earned that.”
Annabeth grins, punching him in the shoulder. He grabs her wrist and tugs her towards him, chasing the curve of her smile. She laughs into his mouth and it taste like strawberries and freedom, and he presses a kiss to her cheek, to her jaw, and the side of her neck, resting there, breathing against her skin. After a moment her hands come up and slide in his hair, gently untangling the knotted mess.
“He is one thousand percent going to put a zombie in your bed, you know,” she says after a moment.
Percy snorts. “Yeah, I know.” He smiles. “Worth it.”
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stars4chratt · 1 month
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Pins n' Needles
Pairing: Chris x fem!reader
Contents: piercing shop, piercer!Chris
Warnings: SMUTTYYY / blowjob / public sex (kinda) / male stimulation / throat fuck / praise / pet names; (ma, mama, sweetheart, sugar, doll, good girl)  / begging if you squint / switch Chris / Chris + vertical labret, eyebrow & tongue pierced / implied aftercare
Summary: The reader has a booked appointment with Chris to get a new piercing, you’ve become a regular at his shop from the few piercings you’ve gotten before. Unbeknownst to you, he’ll be doing more than just sticking a needle in this time.
Author’s note: Hey y’all, this is my first ever fic I’m posting on my blog. I’ll keep this note short n’ sweet but I hope you guys like it!! Please also give me feedback/constructive criticism because I want my writing to be 100% satisfactory for you all. This is also VERY long; apologies in advance, but again I hope you enjoy it!! From Maxine, with love ❣.
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“I wanna put you in my mouth… I wanna crush you in my jaws.” - IN MY MOUTH, BLACK DRESSES
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
You were full of anticipation while dreaming of getting yet another piercing done. You really loved your others you received before, and you never once had an issue with them rejecting or becoming infected. It’s what made this particular location your favourite.
As you climb down the steps to the bottom floor of a punk-rock, alternative store; it reveals a funky, LED-lit piercing shop. To the right, there stood a desk with posters of underground grunge bands that mixed soulfully with big and upcoming rappers and R&B artists hung up on the brick wall.
There’s a mellow softness of music in the background. From what you can hear, it sounds a lot like FE!N by Travis Scott and Playboi Carti. On the opposite side; there were satiny, leather black couches that hung low from the weight of many customers who had sat there before. The place was desolate and quiet, aside from the tunes muffled in the back.
You naturally assumed it was empty and you were simply a bit early, until you heard a door barge open. 
As you turn your head 45 degrees to look back at what the sudden clamour was, you see a silhouette of a man staring at you. His brunette hair hangs low over his eyebrows in heavy contrast to his icy blue irises.
The dimness of the room brings shade over his profile but a glimmer of light shines at you from the centre of his lip and eyebrow. He’s dressed up in a plain, black T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that had the words “FRESH LOVE” embroidered into the fabric. The Vivienne Westwood orb necklace hanging around his nape glistened that matched his diamond earrings.
The fashion statement he obtains makes you come to the realisation that it was Chris, your body piercer.
Suddenly his cold gaze wipes away once he gets a good look up and down at you, he curls his lips up into a friendly grin and inquires; “Hiya sweetheart. How can I help you today?” The low deepness of his voice makes you jump slightly.
“Hey Chris, I have an appointment booked for 12:30 to get my piercing done.” You reply trying to hide the trembling in your question from the painful mixture of excitement and nervousness.
Chris peers down at the nimble clipboard of names and dates. His slender index finger slides down the paper, he shoots his eyes back up at you for a split second giving you a smirk.
He looks back down to the clipboard and spots your name and taps his finger on it.
He turns his head back up at you with a toothy leer as he states “I always look forward to writing your name on my clipboard, y’know.” The stubble resting peacefully on the sharpness of his cheekbones spike up beautifully. He feeds his bottom lip into his mouth while he beams a smile at you and he grits on the metal ring with his enamels.
You say nothing because you’re too flustered to muster up consonants or vowels. A flush of cherry blossom pink pours over your face in embarrassment at his casual compliments and nicknames.
You’re too sheepish to admit it but you have a massive crush on your body piercer.
He gathers up a long piece of paper that looks like a waiver, he hands it to you as he states; “I need your signature here, as per usual I will be your body piercer for today. If you could be a doll and read the terms and conditions along with the do’s and don’ts that are listed above that would be great. You can follow me into the back once you’re done, sweetheart.”
He stares at you patiently with a light beam on his face while you swivel the pen around on the paper.
You plop the pen down on the hard wooden desk and hand the waiver back to Chris. “Perfect. Thank you sugar. If you could just follow me in here, please?” He makes a beckoning gesture with his hands, his eyebrow ring almost fully hidden under his hair.
“Okay”. You respond, giving him a smile as you walk over to him and make your way into a room behind the establishment you were just in.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Moments later, you’re sitting peacefully on the flat bed. Admiring Chris while he slides on a pair of black latex gloves with his sterilised equipment laying still next to him.
Soon after, he pops open an alcohol pad and sets it down in the metal tray with needles and studs. He turns his body around to face you and he grabs the tray. He approaches you with the alcohol pad in his hand, his figure leaning into your face to wipe at the skin where you wanted your piercing to be.
Chris then acquires a sharp pointed pen and a long needle, he marks your face with a purple line.
“Go and look in the mirror and tell me if you’re happy or not with the position.” You get up on your feet and stroll over to the mirror and turn your face to where the mark sits.
“Mmm, can I have it more to the left please?” You ask him softly, while you stare at your reflection. “Of course, of course. Lemme get that off ya real quick”. You go over to the bed and sit back down in your original position.
Chris is laser focused on your face and he semi-consciously grips your chin so you look the right way and he can mark your face correctly.
This makes your heart almost explode out of you chest. You can feel yourself shiver but you try to refrain from it for you to stay stable under Chris’ touch.
He lets go of your chin and grins ear to ear at you again. “Happy now, sugar?”
You glance over at your reflection, you can clearly view where the mark is. “Yeah, that’s perfect. Thank you.”
“No problemo, sweetheart.” He utters while he positions the needle where the mark is.
“This will hurt..obviously, just take a few deep breaths for me. It will go in on three, one. two. three…”
Instantaneously, you feel a harsh, sharp pain. The needle slithers through your skin smoothly. You hiss at the sudden sting and your eyes start to water. You open your eyes to see Chris admiring you.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it sugar? You did so well for me.” He tugs on his lip ring with his teeth again, showing you how pearly and light ivory white they are.
“Hold on for another second, the jewellery is going in.” You feel another slight pinch, it wasn’t as bad as before yet you still flinched. But Chris’ reassurance made the soreness fade away seconds afterwards.
“Try not to touch it too much, clean it with salt water every day and night and avoid sleeping on it. Leave it in for 6 weeks before getting it replaced and you should be golden.”
You glance back at yourself in the mirror while tears are rolling down your cheeks from the pain earlier. Your face lights up as you see the new shard of stainless steel dug into your skin. “I love it! Thank you, Chris.” You exclaim at him with pure joy, giving him a big smile as you wipe the tears off of your face.
“No worries, sugar. Anything for my favourite customer.” That phrase makes your stomach tingly all the way down to in between your legs. You had to squeeze your thighs to secrete the euphoria Chris’ comments and sweet nothings made you feel.
“How much is this again? I’ll pay you in cash.” You query him. “Oh, you won’t need to pay me with money, sweetheart.”
Your eyebrows furrowed at this statement. You look up at him through your eyelashes for a few seconds with scepticism.
“What do you mean?” You mumble slowly at him while he gazes tenderly down at you.
“You can either pay me a different way, or you can walk out of here with a free piercing. This is sudden, I know that, sugar. But I’m not really feelin’ receiving money from my prettiest customer today.”
Your stomach churns and twists at Chris’ words. The butterflies are scrambling around inside you, to the point where the sensation spreads down to your core. Causing you to become slick with your juices beneath your clothes.
“I-I don’t get what point you’re trying to make, Chris..” You stutter and fumble on your words. Your veins are surging with tension and hesitancy.
“Jeez. Do I have to spell it out for ya, ma?” Ma? That’s a new one. Very similar to the other plain jane nicknames, and yet so different and fulfilling to hear.
Abruptly, Chris starts to inch towards you. You two are only centimetres away from each other, practically breathing on one another.
You feel your heart start to quicken and your breathing pattern to become heavy and irregular. Your heat starts to soak even more as you gawk and admire Chris’ lip piercing now wet with his spit.
“Don’t you have other customers after me..? I’m not sure if this is a good idea Chris..” You break eye contact with his blue rings and start to fidget and twiddle with your fingers.
“Do you not want to..? Shit, I’m sorry ma I didn’t mean to come onto you like that I was just really lookin’ forward to see ya today and I just thought y’would be okay with it like how you’re okay with me calling you sugar n’ stuff like that and-”
You gape at Chris, dumbfounded for a second. You start to hear his Boston accent the more he rambles on in embarrassment. “Chris it’s okay, trust me. I-I do want to… I’ve just never done something like this in a public place.”
His ears perk up and his central lip ring glints, his eyebrow piercing hidden under his locs.
You mentally scream at yourself saying: what the actual fuck is wrong with you? 
“We can do whatever you want Chris, does this door have a lock?” You question him poking and prodding at the handle. “I wanna make sure we really, really have privacy.”
Your mind is zooming and sporadically muddling up millions of thoughts. You were asking yourself; Why aren’t you walking out? Why are you doing this for him? He said I could walk out with a free piercing.
“Yes, ma. It has a lock. Also before you ask, I have no other customers after you for today. Did you not notice the poster I put outside? I’m closing up earlier than usual today.”
You feel your face become hot and your body starts to sweat out of every crevice. The colour of your cheeks go scarlet when you realise he did all this for you. He planned all of this out, since the jump. Ever since you put the phone down on him once you booked the appointment.
“Chris..”
“I know, sweetheart. It’s very unexpected. Like I said, you can walk out with the piercing for free. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m not forcing you.”
Somehow, the tenseness in your body loosens. Your muscles stop clenching.
You rush to Chris’ face and pull his lips into yours. Your teeth almost clash into each other. Your puffy, red brims of your mouths intertwine together almost like tying a tight and rigid knot.
You then pull him away from him, both of you trying to catch your breath. Chris ogles at you with his mouth agape yet curved up into a slight smirk.
“What?” You ask. “Didn’t you want this? If you want me to pay you this way, then c’mere. I hope you don’t take cash or card, pretty boy.”
Chris hums in severe approval at your words. He then clasps at your waist and pulls you into another sloppy kiss. More wet and passionate than the one before.
Chris grovels his tongue in between your rows of teeth and you let out a surprised moan at this manoeuvre. Your tongues dance gracefully against each other.
You feel a freezing cold sensation on your lips. The taste of metal consuming your palette. You slowly open your eyes to gaze down at Chris’ mouth… Chris has a tongue piercing.
Your core drips in the slickness of your juice after this information was revealed to you. You no longer held back the temptation and tugged at his lip ring with your teeth.
A choked whine crawls out of Chris’ throat, the grasp on your lower body now tighter and more aggressive. His hot breath combines with yours and condenses the air above you. Making the atmosphere humid and thick. Harder to breathe under your utmost desperation.
“Fuck, Ma. I wanna feel my dick inside your mouth so bad after what my tongue got out of it.” He chuckled, gasping for a breath. Chris’ mouth circling these filthy words on the tip of his tongue to spit them back at you pulls at the tendons of your chest. Your folds become velvety and drenched, almost like his words are casting spells over you. Your mind goes foggy as you both are intoxicated by a horny haze of each other’s presence.
“C’mon then baby, get on the bed.”
“Yes, sugar.” Chris obliges obediently. He rushes to the bed with no delay.
You follow behind and lower yourself down until your full weight is rested on your knees. Focusing on Chris’ craving and horny scrutiny. You slowly part his legs and he lets out a long sigh, throwing his head back and breaking eye contact at your unexpected but swift touch.
“No baby, look at me. Let me see those pretty eyes.” Chris whimpers at your command and drops his head down to take in your eager stare.
You push the hem of his shirt further up his body, leaving his lower abdomen fully exposed as you tangle your fingers around his drawstring playfully.
Chris writhes with impatience while you teasingly remove every article of clothing on his lower half slowly. His chest slowly rises and falls in an irregular pattern. His prick aching to be set free from the enclosure of grey cloth.
You use your teeth to grip onto the material and loosen the knot in his drawstring, the very act of you doing this to Chris makes his dick twitch constantly.
You wrap your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants to steadily pull them down. Chris lifts his hips up gently to allow you to pull them off briskly.
What once were his unseen Calvin Klein boxers, are now fully revealed. He kicks off his sweats for them to fall on the floor. Your manicured hands rub and slide leisurely across his hairy thighs. His happy trail carved out like a perfectly sculpted statue. Curved and slimmed in all the right places.
You then make your way to the throbbing bulge creating a tent in the jet black fabric. Your hands clasp at the tip making Chris jolt and his hips buckle up into your hand.
A quiet “F-fuck..” could be heard spilling out of his mouth. You hum at the pleasurable sight of him. Your body piercer who sticks needles in your skin for your money and satisfaction, has his dick in your hands.
You start to make your way down his shaft. Chris hisses and covers his mouth with his hand while the other grasps at the edge of the bed. Fully concealing his lip ring.
A slow up and down motion is created by your hands on Chris’ cock. His hips thrust upwards again, basically fucking your hand.
You swallow thickly with restlessness and take your hand off of his dick. It sits there pulsing a beat every now and then.
Chris groans dismally. “Please don’t stop mama, you were doing so well. It felt so good..” Chris spews out of his mouth mixed with his loud and rowdy moans. It’s very clear to you that he isn’t ashamed of how good you’re making him feel, so why should you?
You hastily rip off his boxers out of pure greed which makes his dick come sticking out immediately. Smacking his abdomen.
The lust in your eyes intensifies as you stare with your mouth wide open practically drooling and fawning over the thought of what he tastes like on your tongue. The shape. The colour. The size. Holy fuck he had the whole package. Just you imagining him slamming it inside your pussy made you grow carnal with desire.
The vein popping out the side fleshly. His dick practically begging to be sucked and licked at. 
You pepper small kisses around his shaft. Chris heaves as his eyes roll into the back of his skull.
“That feel good, angel?” You ask him tantalisingly knowing damn fucking well the answer is yes.
Chris is completely unable to muster up sentences or even words to the point where he just mumbles an “Uh-huh” of approval.
You lick a long stripe up to his tip, making him squirm and whine underneath your touch.
On the spur of the moment, you feel two hands grip onto the back of your head as they force you down onto Chris’ cock. Your lips clench around the very base of his dick.
“Oh, fuck yes.” Chris exclaims. “Your mouth feels so fucking good… yeah take that fucking dick like a good girl.” 
Your head bobs up and down on his length at a rapid pace. The tip of his cock grazing the back of your throat makes your eyes water again and your makeup comes running down your face. 
“Yes, yes, yes. Oh, sweetheart.. I’m s-so close..” you feel Chris’ fast rhythm start to quiver and twitch uncontrollably. His hips locking into place as his cock sits inside your mouth balls deep.
“I-I’m gonna cum ma.. I’m g-gonna…” at that moment, Chris spews his white load into your mouth. It squirts out of his tip in long, thick ropes as it paints all over your mouth and on your tongue.
He pulls out immediately afterwards. You’re both trying to catch your breath. You feel Chris’ thumb graze against your lip. Your entire throat still coated in his seed. “Swallow.” He commands spitefully.
You close your mouth and gulp down Chris’ warm cum. You have trouble consuming it all in one go from the amount and how thick it was.
Soon after, you stick your tongue back out to show him that it was all gone. You took it all.
“Good girl.” Chris states smiling down at you, pulling his boxers back up. Moments later he reaches to the side counter to get tissues and a hot towel.
“No more money from you, from now on.” He declares.
“No more money.” You repeat, gazing up at him. Still on your knees.
“Good. Now let’s get you cleaned up, sugar.”
.・。.・゜✭・✫・゜・。.
Author’s note no.2: WHEW.. done and dusted. This was actually uber fun to write. Ofc i’ll be writing TONS AND TONS more for you all. I hope you had fun reading this and i’ll see you again soon! 
༝༚༝༚, Maxine.
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slu7formen · 9 days
Text
luke castellan x fem!reader
Luke has been making fun of your ‘unnecessarily absurd beauty routine’ —as he liked to call it— for the past week, so, you decide to drown him in it, just to see how much he can handle.
warnings: just a single use of the word b1tch, fluff at the end <3, little use of yn
reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes
₊˚⊹♡
i. the eyebrows
“Ow, ow, ow! That hurt!”
“No it didn´t!”
“Yes, it did!”
“Shut up and hold still”
“Ow! You´re pinching my skin, you bitch!”
“That was fully on porpuse”
A chorus of laughter erupted from the nearby bunk beds. Most of the boys, Luke´s half-siblings, gathered around you both, enjoying the show, eyes gleaming with mischief as they witnessed their usually stoic and confident counselor reduced to a whiny mess. Luke´s head was leaning on your thighs as you plugged his eyebrows with some dangerously sharp tweezers.
“See, that´s what you get for making fun of a girl” Travis Stoll, the elder of the Stoll brothers, joined in, a smirk on his lips. "We all warned you about messing with her” he pointed towards you.
“Shut up, Travis!” Luke spat.
You enjoyed the way his face was turning red, from embarrasment and because he was trying so hard to hold back his tears.
“You know, Luke” you started, plugging on another thin hair which earned you a little curse whispered from his lips. “You can always just, give up on the bet”
You found yourself enjoying the sight immensely. The perfect Hermes´ cabin counselor who'd spent the past week mocking your beauty routine,– here he was, sprawled across your lap, a prisoner of your tweezers.
“There´s no way in hell I´m letting you beat me that easily" he declared, though his voice lacked its usual conviction.
You couldn't help but smirk. The bet had been born out of sheer frustration. For the past week, Luke had been relentless in his teasing about your beauty regimen. He'd mocked the meticulous way you cared for your eyebrows, the endless battle against unwanted body hair, the whining about the occasional pimples even when you spent a good twenty minutes locked in the bathroom cleaning your skin. He'd called you high-maintenance, a slave to societal expectations, and everything in between.
Finally, you'd snapped. "Alright, Castellan" you'd declared, eyes blazing. "How about a little bet? If you can handle a full day of 'girl stuff,' I'll clean your cabin for a week"
The look of surprise on Luke's face had been priceless. He'd scoffed, of course, overconfident and utterly clueless about the sheer torture involved in waxing, tweezing, and mud masks. But fueled by his arrogance, he'd readily agreed.
Now, here you were, watching him squirm on your lap like a fish, a testament to his underestimation of the situation. A wave of satisfaction washed over you. It wasn't just about winning the bet, though that was certainly a perk. It was about showing him, in a slightly sadistic way, that there was more to "girl stuff" than he thought. It was about proving that self-care wasn't about vanity, but about feeling confident and comfortable in your own skin.
“As you wish, little baby”
Chris suddenly appeard in your vision, the satisfaction on his face plagged as if he was enjoying this more than you did. “You know, yn” he called out, you momentarily stopped, accidentally giving Luke a break. “Luke has a little hair situation going on under his arms”
“What!?” Luke blurted out. His siblings laughed again.
“He does?” you asked Chris, looking down at Luke and patting his head like a little kid.
“Oh, yeah” Chris smirked. “Maybe that could be the next step, don´t you think?”
“I´m gonna-” Luke tried to get up from his bed, hands reaching out towards Chris. He took a step back just as you grabbed Luke by his shoulders and pushed him down again towards your lap.
“I´m not done with you yet, tough guy. But Chris´ right. Get your hairy armpits ready”
ii. the waxing
You pulled out a box of waxing stripes. Luke, oblivious to the impending torture, was too engrossed in examining his newly sculpted eyebrows in the hand mirror you'd provided. A satisfied smirk played on your lips. The eyebrows looked fantastic – perfectly groomed without being overly feminine. Because yes, he asked you to keep them as close to their natural shape as possible.
“Shirt off” you declared.
His head whipped towards you, eyes wide with horror and disbelief. His half-brothers, mirrored his action, erupting in a chorus of whistles and catcalls.
"Excuse you?" he sputtered, h is voice a touch higher than usual.
"Damn," Connor drawled to you. "at least ask the guy out first"
You rolled your eyes. Luke shot him a withering glare, but beneath the bluster, you could see a flicker of nervousness.
You held up the waxing strips. “It´s time for your armpits, champion” you announced with a playful lilt in your voice. You began rubbing the strips together to warm the wax.
He whined, pulling his camp t-shirt over his head, revealing his well-toned torso, and throwing it over a nearby bunk. You stole a glance at his body for a microsecond, a slight red blush coloring your cheeks. His brothers were quick to start a echo of whistles.
He flopped down heavily on the bed, one arm raised awkwardly above his head. To your surprise, there wasn't as much hair as you'd anticipated. But that didn't diminish the sheer terror radiating from him. You stifled a laugh. "Relax, Luke" you said, your voice gentler now. "The tenser you are, the worse it'll be."
His brothers leaned in closer, their eyes glued to the scene unfolding before them. You carefully pressed the strip against his skin, smoothing it down with the practiced ease. He held his breath, his entire body tensing in anticipation.
You inhaled sharply yourself, then you ripped the strip off in one swift motion. Luke let out a yelp that would have made a banshee proud. His face contorted in pain, and his free hand clenched into a fist. His brothers erupted in laughter, their amusement fueled by his pain.
"Alright, alright" you said, trying to sound sympathetic despite the laughter bubbling in your throat. "Deep breaths, Luke. If you don´t relax, it´s gonna hurt more"
He glared at you, his voice laced with a hint of betrayal. "Easy for you to say."
Ignoring his grumbling, you ripped off another strip. A chorus of gasps filled the room, and Luke let out another yelp, his face turning an even deeper shade of red.
"See?" you said, holding up the strip adorned with a few stray hairs. "Not so bad, right?"
He wanted to murder you.
"Don't you use anesthesia for this?" he wheezed after a particularly harsh pull on his other armpit, his eyes watering slightly.
“We´re not babies, Luke” you replied, shaking your head. "Just good old-fashioned grit and determination. Besides, you wouldn't want to miss out on the full 'girl stuff' experience, would you?"
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity —at least for Luke—, you finished. His armpits were as smooth as a baby´s butt. His brothers, unable to resist themselves, reached out and slapped the freshly waxed skin, earning them a swift kick each from a now-furious Luke.
iii. the skincare
"Skincare? Seriously?" Luke asked, sitting down on your bed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You all went to your cabin to continue his so claimed ‘girl´s day´. You would´ve paid to take a picture of your sisters´ faces when they saw you walk in with a bunch of boys following you behind.
“Just lay down, princess” you declared “I´ll bring my stuff”
He leaned back against the your pushy pillows, getting comfortable.
“First time on a girl´s bed?” Chris asked, earning a few laughs from his siblings.
“Shut up” Luke spat.
You came back with your washbag, full of different products that nearly gave Luke a heart attack. You had to assure him that this time, this wasn´t gonna hurt. At least not the first part, but you kept it a secret.
"Alright, beautiful” you teased. “Let’s get started. First thing’s first. “Cleansing”
You dipped a soft washcloth in warm water and began gently wiping away the dirt and sweat from his face. Luke closed his eyes, a look of unexpected serenity washing over his features. You noticed him get loose under your touch, a slight smile playing on his lips, and crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture of surprising compliance.
“Wow” he said. “This is actually quite nice”
"See?" you said softly. "This isn't so bad"
He opened one eye, a playful glint mirroring your own. "Not bad at all" he admitted, a hint of amusement in his voice “Guys, you should try this."
The Hermes´ cabin boys leaned in closer, their usual boisterousness replaced by a quiet attentiveness. They watched as your fingers moved with a practiced ease, cleansing Luke's skin with a tenderness they hadn't seen before. They saw you take some cleanser, and rub it softly against Luke´s skin.
They all exchanged glances, a new kind of curiosity flickering in their eyes. Usually, the sight of anyone touching Luke, let alone his face, would have elicited a barrage of teasing. But seeing you, your movements gentle and practiced as you gathered a gentle cleanser, they found themselves strangely mesmerized.
"Well, he looks chill" Connor added. "Could you clean my face sometime, yn?"
You chuckled, throwing a playful glance thorwn at him. "Maybe later, Connor. Right now, it's all about Luke's glow-up."
Next came the toner, followed by a light moisturizer. Luke remained surprisingly still, his eyes closed, a contented sigh escaping his lips from time to time. His brothers, bored by the lack of drama, started to get bored.
Just as you were about to get some eye patchs, your eyes drifted on a little tool inside your washbag; your blackhead remover. An idea came up to you.
"Alright, Luke" you announced, a hint of warning in your voice. "Time for the fun part."
You reached for a steaming hot towel and pressed it gently against his nose and forehead. He inhaled deeply, the steam opening up his pores.
"This feels so nice" he mumbled, his voice muffled by the towel.
A slow grin spread across your face. "Oh, it gets better" you said, an evil spark in your eyes.
You grabbed the blackhead extractor and, with practiced ease, began gently removing the unwanted blemishes.
Suddenly, Luke's eyes flew open, a look of pure horror replacing his previous serenity. "Wait! What are you doing?" he shrieked.
"Shh" you hushed him playfully. "Relax. These little guys gotta go. Trust me, it'll be better for your skin in the long run."
"But it hurts!" he whined, swatting your hand away with a surprisingly weak attempt.
"Just a little pinch" you reassured him, your voice a mockery he hated. "Besides, if you don't remove them now, they'll grow bigger and poppier, and that will hurt even more."
Luke opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his lips as you expertly extracted another blackhead. This bet was getting a little harder to beat than expected. He winced slightly, then a defeated sigh escaped his lips.
“So, Connor” you called. “You wanted to be next, right?”
iv. make up
"So," you began, a sly smile playing on your lips as you settled into the chair across from Luke, "you think makeup is easy, right?"
"Shouldn't be that hard, I guess" he mumbled, trying to sound confident. Inside, however, his stomach churned with fear and worry.
You gestured towards your desk, which was now overflowing with an array of colorful tubes, palettes, and brushes – an arsenal of beauty products foreign to the boys' eyes. "Alright then," you declared, a playful lilt in your voice. "Here's a little game. I'll show you each product and you have to guess what it's for. Every one you get wrong? Goes on your face."
Luke's eyes widened in horror.
"Wait, what?" he sputtered, a nervous tremor in his voice. "You can't be serious!"
You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "But Luke, you just said makeup was easy. This is your chance to prove it!"
"This is cheating" he mumbled, looking betrayed. "You never mentioned makeup in the bet!"
"Technically," you countered, holding up a finger, "it's still 'girl stuff’, as you call it”
A groan escaped Luke's lips. He shot a desperate glance towards his brothers, hoping for some kind of intervention. Charles Beckendorf, who allegedly decided to join the fun, just grinned towards him.
"Don't chicken out now, Luke" he said, arms crossed over his chest. "You can always give up on the bet and let her win”
Luke glared at his friend, silently cursing the day he ever agreed to this ridiculous wager. He sighed dramatically, slumping back on the bed. "Fine" he mumbled, defeated. "At least try your best to make me look decent."
“That´s not gonna be on me, dear”
You couldn't help but laugh at his misery. You reached across the desk, picking up a sleek black tube with a silver cap. It felt cool and smooth in your hand.
"What do you think this is?" you asked, holding it up for him to see.
Luke squinted at the tube, his brow furrowed in concentration. He recalled seeing something similar in movies, actresses applying it with a flick of their wrist. An idea flickered in his mind.
"Eyeliner?" he ventured, his voice laced with a hint of uncertainty.
You arched an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Huh, correct”
You set the eyeliner aside, a mischievous glint returning to your eyes. Next up, you picked up a thin, wooden-looking tool with a pointed tip. There was a small, round piece of what looked like colored chalk attached to the end.
"Alright," you announced, "round two. What is this?"
Luke studied the object carefully. It did resemble a pencil, but the colored tip threw him off. He wracked his brain, trying to recall anything similar he'd seen in the vast array of makeup products on your desk.
"Uh… a pencil?" he finally ventured, his voice lacking conviction.
You burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the cabin. Tears welled up in your eyes quickly, blurring your vision slightly.
"A pencil, Luke?" you wheezed, wiping a tear from your cheek. "It’s a lip liner"
Luke's cheeks flushed crimson.
"Lip liner?" he echoed, his voice barely a whisper. "For what? Do I need to draw on a bigger mouth?" He gestured to his own lips, a hint of self-consciousness creeping into his voice.
You shook your head, stifling another giggle. "No, no need for a bigger mouth. Lip liner helps define the shape of your lips."
With a shake of your head, you said, "Now the fun part begins. Bring those lips here, handsome."
Luke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his face hovering a few inches from yours. The air got filled with a strange tension, probably because his brothers walked closer so they could get a better look. His breath hitched slightly as your fingers brushed against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.
“You´re lucky this is the same shade as your natural lip color” you whisper.
“Yeah” Chris adds. “Maybe you should wear it more often, handsome” he reaches out his hand to squeeze Luke´s cheeks, but he´s quick enough to slap his hand away.
“Shut up”
The minutes that followed were filled with a more lighthearted energy. You continued the game, Luke surprisingly getting a few things right – foundation, and even a surprisingly good guess on a shimmery eyeshadow palette.
But he wasn't without his misses. The concealer, a light, creamy formula designed to camouflage blemishes, ended up being applied liberally under his eyes, leaving him with a ghostly pallor that had his brothers doubled over in laughter. Then came the blush. A delicate peach shade, turned his cheeks a comical shade of fuchsia thanks to your deliberately exaggerated application with a fluffy brush.
His brothers, fueled by this new display of comedic gold, howled with laughter. Charles, wiping tears from his eyes, wheezed, “He-, he looks like a baboon in heat”
"Oh man" Travis howled, clutching his stomach. "This is even better than the armpit wax"
Next came the eyelash curler, that strange-looking contraption that promised to create dramatic, fluttery lashes. The moment you held it up, Luke's eyes widened in suspicion. He snatched it from your hand before you could ask him what he though it was.
"What the hell is this!?" he exclaimed, his voice laced with a mixture of disgust and fear. "You girls like torturing yourselves with these things?"
You reached out and gently took the curler back. "No torture involved" you replied. “And since you know absolutely nothing about it…"
He tried to look defiant, but a flicker of uncertainty betrayed him. "I know what it is" he mumbled, avoiding your gaze.
"Oh really?" you challenged, raising an eyebrow. "Then what is it?"
You handed him the curler and watched as he fumbled with it, his big hands clearly not designed for such delicate work. He eventually gave up with a defeated sigh.
"Okay" he grumbled, handing the curler back to you. "Do your worst."
The final touches were a disaster, a glorious, hilarious disaster. Every fiber of Luke's being screamed in protest as you handed the brushes over to his merciless brothers.
“Come here, Lookie-Pookie” Travis cooed, his voice dripping with mock sweetness as he leaned in with a thick brush loaded with sparkly eyeshadow. Luke recoiled, swatting his hand away with a glare.
"Don't touch me!”
“Come on Luke, give us those pretty little lips. We need to make sure they're nice and kissable” Beckendorf joined, opening a little lip product tube he wasn´t sure what it really was.
Luke wanted to melt into the floor, his face burning hotter than the volcanic eyeshadow now smudged across his eyelids. The audacity, the betrayal! His own brothers, the supposed bastions of masculinity, were gleefully participating in this humiliation.
“Maybe some of this highlighter will make him look prettier”
He couldn´t believe his own brothers knew what highlighter was except for him.
As he looked at his reflection in the mirror, a mix of horror and amusement washed over him. He never thought he'd feel so violated by makeup. But somewhere amidst the frustration and embarrassment, a strange sense of camaraderie bubbled up. His brothers, usually his biggest tormentors, were doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down their faces. And you, the leader of this whole mess, were practically glowing with barely suppressed mirth.
Despite himself, a smile tugged at the corner of Luke's lips. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all. Sure, he looked like a technicolor disaster, but the shared laughter, the fun, it felt strangely… good. He glanced at you, your eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Gods” he breathed, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "This is the best day of your life, isn't it?"
You couldn't help but laugh, a genuine, unrestrained laugh that filled the cabin. "Hell yeah it is" you replied as you offer him make up wipes.
v. the reconcile
Night had fallen, painting the sky with shimmering stars. The campfire illuminated the campers´ face, its flames dancing higher as the Apollo cabin filled the air with joyful camp songs. Laughter mingled with the strumming of guitars and lyres, creating a symphony of pure summer camp bliss.
The fire itself danced in response to the campers' emotions. It roared a little higher with every burst of laughter, dimmed momentarily during a quiet story, and flickered with a playful intensity as the Hermes boys, fueled by their mischievous exploits, recounted their version of the day's events.
You sat by the fire, poking a marshmallow with a stick, watching the scene unfold. Their narrative, of course, focused heavily on your supposed "torture" of Luke. Specially the Stoll brothers; they painted a picture of you as a ruthless makeup artist, a waxer who pealed Luke´s skin off and left his face shining like marble. Meanwhile, Luke simply sat there, a faint smile playing on his lips.
You noticed the Hermes boys regaling other campers with their story, punctuated by bursts of laughter. And yes, you didn´t like to admit it but, you'd lost the bet. Technically. But watching Luke handle their teasing with surprising grace, a hint of amusement in his eyes, filled you with a strange satisfaction.
You were there by yourself for a few more minutes. The camp sounds filling your ears as you tried your best not to stuff your face in all the toasted marshmallows your sisters offered you. Your hands felt tired, because yes, even though what you did was not too much for you to handle, Luke squirmed and behaved like a worm covered in salt, which only made your work harder.
Just then, a figure settled in front of you. Luke. He held two sticks, each crowned with a perfectly toasted marshmallow. He offered one to you, his usual smirk replaced by a genuine smile.
"Truce?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful challenge.
You couldn't help but grin, accepting the marshmallow with a playful jab. "Truce"
He sat beside you, the marshmallow on his stick disappearing in one swift, hungry bite. Suddenly, you leaned in closer, feigning seriousness. "Oh dear" you said, your voice laced with mock concern.
Luke raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What is it now?"
"You've got a blackhead. Right, there" you declared, pointing to a non-existent imperfection on his nose.
His eyes widened in mock horror. "No way! I´m not letting you touch my face again" He swatted at your hand playfully, but you were quicker.
"Hold still, you wriggly worm" you teased, pretending to grab his nose. A playful fight ensued, a flurry of limbs and laughter. You managed to land a swipe at his cheek with a gooey bit of marshmallow.
Finally, breathless with laughter, you both settled back down, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the quiet camaraderie. As you bit into your marshmallow, a comfortable silence settled between you.
"So, about that bet" he began, wiping his marshmallow-streaked hands on his cargo pants.
You turned to look at him, still chewing on another marshmallow and a piece of melted chocolate. "Yeah?"
"I don't want you to clean my cabin" he explained.
"Why not? I lost the bet" you replied, surprised by his sudden declaration.
He looked at the sky, a hint of pink dusting his cheeks. "Yeah, but… We're kind of a mess, actually. I would feel bad if you did it alone."
"Aww, Castellan, are you worried about little ol' me?" you teased him, squeezing his cheek playfully. He blushed a deeper shade of red, looking positively flustered.
"Maybe" he mumbled, avoiding your gaze.
"Okay, here's a deal" you continued, trying to cover your own blush. "I'll clean your cabin, but you have to help me. I really don't wanna get into dirty-underwear-business."
Luke considered this for a moment, then a grin spread across his face. "Deal. But I'm warning you, there might be some things you shouldn´t even try to touch with bare hands. And I mean Travis´ and Connor´s bunks”
From a distance, a group of campers — a mix of Hermes, Apollo, and Hephaestus cabins —watched your exchange with keen interest. The playful teasing, the way your hands brushed as you made your deal — it was all too much for their already overactive imaginations.
"I bet you fifteen bucks he's gonna ask her out by the end of the week" an Apollo camper, Lee, declared.
Chris snorted. "That's weak. Twenty bucks says he does it tonight."
hiiya, just thought I could write something different to what I usually do. hope you enjoyed <3 🩷
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joesalw · 5 months
Text
Taylor Swift has an unhealthy obsession with changing her personality according to the men she dates from time to time. It’s funny how she talks about how she's never gonna get back the six years of her life being wasted for being private. But this is the same person who released interviews saying she craves privacy and it has made her life manageable and feel real instead of being the objective of tabloid stories by the media.
It's like she doesn’t have her own perspective of life, she always sees the world the way her partners see them. When she first started dating Joe and started talking about him, she made it look like he is the best thing that has ever happened to her, even in her songs she wrote so highly of him. All the things that she's rejecting now are the things that she admired back in 2016-2022. With all the privacy cravings back then, her fans were dragging Tom hiddleston and Calvin Harris for being so public with her, they dragged these guys saying they only used her for fame and never seen the real Taylor. Back then the narrative was, only Joe was a real guy who loves Taylor for being herself and not the Taylor Swift tm. But since the relationship didn’t work out, she switched the whole narrative again.
This time Joe is the villain for not being public with her. She is so proud of Kelce, she loves to enjoy his shows and apparently she doesn’t care about how many people are pissed of seeing her face everyday, she made a quote on that. But how long since she will switch this narrative too? Again swifties will villainize Travis Kelce and not TS. It's funny how they totally erased the existence of Matty Healy from the interview as well, since it was bad for her image. But we didn’t forget it Taylor that you were proudly hanging out with a racist, xenophobic, islamophobic, zionist guy and publishing articles on how your relationship is NOT platonic.
Her whole activism era started because Joe was an activist. He didn’t stop it after the breakup because it's a part of his personality, he still signed the ceasefire letter. But Taylor didn’t utter a single word about genocide, she's busy learning football and crying about how oppressed she is in her billionaire lifestyle. And somehow she is the Person of the Year in Times magazine.
And talking about her new boyfriend so publicly is something she never did even with Calvin Harris, which was (in comparison) her third most public relationship. But somehow all of this is directed towards Joe as if he was the one in fault for keeping her silent for so long. She is a grown ass woman who can take her own decisions. If she wanted an out from being locked for so long in her own mansions, she could've done that anyway. But to make it look like someone else fault is something she never gets tired of. It's always her exes' faults and not hers. When will you take accountability for your own decisions Taylor Swift?
Like this woman is pushing 40 and is still acting like a high school bully. She is proud of having a boyfriend from football team which is fulfilling her dreams from high school. She loves the attention, loves to play a cheerleader role as a gf. She got a platform like Times magazine’s person of the year where she could talk about serious issues in the world but she'd rather talk about how independent she feels being in a public relationship like this.
Btw it will take no longer than two years for this to turn into a victim trap again, she will then release another article about how she hates so much attention from public and how she craves privacy again, (based on whatever her then boyfriend would want lol) and her fandom will again forget everything she's said in this interview and make an ultimate villain out of Travis Kelce. Literally the same way they did with Jake Gyllenhaal, Calvin Harris, Tom Hiddleston, Harry Styles and Joe Alwyn. It is a never ending cycle and it will go on forever until she decides to seek some therapy for herself.
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vanwritesfan-fiction · 5 months
Note
I literally love your work you’re so talented I can reread it for days and never get bored. Can you write some fluff where maybe reader and Travis have been super busy and they grow a little distant and fight about it and then Travis realizes he messed up when one of his kids asks if he’s moving out or something and he makes it up to reader
All Of Me
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"Laylah is finally asleep." Travis whispered as he slipped through the open crack of your bedroom door, quietly closing it behind him. He threw himself down on his side of the bed, closing his eyes as he let out a sigh of pure exhaustion.
"Thanks." You gave him a small smile, continuing your nighttime routine from your side of the bed. You felt Travis' fingers graze down the path of your spine, making you tense up. You rolled your shoulders back, still feeling a tinge of annoyance from earlier tonight. You had gotten into it with Travis over some careless scheduling conflicts on his part, and while you agreed to drop it so you weren't fighting in front of the kids, you'd be lying if you said you weren't still upset.
Travis retracted his arm at your rejection. "I thought we were okay." He hated fighting with you, and would do anything to avoid it. It made him sick to think you were upset, especially at his hand. You shut your nightstand drawer harder than you intended before turning off the light. "If by okay, you mean we're not fighting with each other. Then yes, we're okay, but I'm still pissed with you, Travis." You shifted to lay down in bed, turning your back to him.
"Baby, I said I was sorry. I wasn't thinking when I said yes to the appearance. I would have never agreed to it if I knew it was the same day as Savannah's party." Travis blinked into the darkness, resisting the urge to reach out to you again. He knew it would only set you off.
"Don't you get tired of apologizing? I know you didn't do it on purpose, but it feels like sometimes we're an afterthought to you." You bundled the comforter in your fist, feeling yourself grow angry all over again. The fight was rearing its ugly head again whether you wanted it to or not.
"That's not fair." Travis shot out, his voice louder than he anticipated, emotion building in his chest. "I'm always thinking about you and the kids. But I'm not gonna pretend like the work I do isn't important. Sometimes it has to come first. I have fans, people who count on me." He groaned, realizing that was not what he wanted to say, but it was too late to take it back. The damage was done.
"If you wanna go, Travis, go. No one is stopping you, but you can explain to your daughter while you won't be at her birthday party. I'm done covering for you." All of the consoling you had to do, tears streaming down your kids faces when Travis couldn't make it to a little league game or a school performance was wearing on you too. You listened briefly to make sure that none of the kids had woken due to your arguing. Realizing the house was still calm, you allowed yourself to let out a deep breath. "I'm done talking about this."
****
The next morning, Travis dropped the kids off at school before heading to practice for the day. The girls were in the back, singing their favorite Disney songs, and usually Alex would vocalize his objections, begging Travis to change to another song, but today, he was noticeably quiet, leaning his head against the window. Travis noticed, but didn't want to push the issue. Maybe Alex was just more tired than usual this morning.
"Daddy?" Savannah called out to Travis. "Yes, baby?" He glanced at her through the rear view mirror. "For my party on Saturday, can I have a strawberry cake?" She eagerly clasped her hands together. "Wait, is it your birthday on Saturday? I had no idea!" Travis chuckled, messing with her. "Daddy! I'm turning 5!" She held up five fingers. "Well then, we need to get you a strawberry cake to celebrate." Both Savannah and Laylah cheered. Travis looked at Alex, who was still tight lipped, his gaze focused on the scenery out the window.
"Alex, what's going on, bud?" Travis had dropped the girls off at preschool, leaving him alone with his eldest in the car while he headed to the elementary school.
"Nothing", Alex grumbled out, pulling at his sweatshirt. "Did something happen at school? You know you can tell me." Alex shook his head no, not offering Travis anything else to go on. "Are you excited for your game tomorrow? Mama says you've been hitting well. Can't wait to see you play."
"Are you coming to my games still?" Alex's face perked up, but riddled with anxiety instead of happiness. "Of course, Bubba. Why wouldn't I?" Alex shifted in his seat uncomfortably, flexing his fingers. It was something he did when he was nervous, a trait he had gotten from Travis. "What's going on, Bub?"
"I heard you and mama fighting last night, and she said that you could go if you wanted to. Are you moving out? I don't want you to leave dad." Alex had a very basic understanding of divorce, one of his friends' parents were going through a nasty separation, and Travis could only imagine what was going through his head after hearing the two of you fighting. He found a spot to pull over on the side of the road.
"Alex, bud", Travis shifted in his seat to look back at his son. Alex's cheeks were stained with tears, his sweatshirt sleeve damp. "Your mama and I argued about something silly that Dad did, okay? But I would never leave you or your sisters or your mama. I love you all too much. You have nothing to worry about, and I'm sorry if we scared you." Travis had been so busy trying to defend himself, that he didn't even realize all of this could have been avoided if he had just put his family first. He knew he owed you an apology, and needed to make this up to you. "I just need to figure out a way to get your mom to forgive me."
"Dad, maybe you can get her some flowers. She always likes when we get her flowers for Mama's Day." Alex suggested, making Travis chuckle. "I don't think flowers will be enough this time, Bubba."
****
After practice, Travis found you in your office. You were confirming some last minute details for Savannah's party, stress weighing your shoulders down. You were finding it difficult to focus on anything but your fight with your husband, guilt for trying to push him out making your stomach turn.
"Hey", you turned to see Travis leaning in the doorway, his hair still wet from his shower. You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding in. Even when you were fighting with Travis, he was still your calm and peace. It didn't feel right not touching and holding him. You were so quick to your feet, throwing your arms around Travis' neck, it startled him, making him stumble back. He held you impossibly close, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "I hate fighting with you", Travis mumbled against your skin.
You pulled away, cupping his face in your hands. "I'm sorry, I never should have pushed you. I know you wouldn't miss anything on purpose. Its just, sometimes its really hard doing this without you."
"C'mere." Travis led you back to your chair, pulling another over to you so you were sitting close. He grabbed at your hands, gently massaging at your fingers. "I'm so sorry, baby. I never should have made you second guess how important you were to me. You and the kids, they come before anything else. Every time."
You gave him a soft smile. "I never should have said that, T. I don't think that at all. I can't imagine the pressure on you to be present here and in football. It can't be easy. I need- no I want to be more understanding of how much you have to do."
"About that. I canceled all of my appearances. I told my team that if its not absolutely necessary, I don't want to commit to anything. At least until you feel supported again, however long that is." Travis pulled you into his lap, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
"I don't want you to do that Travis. That's not fair to you or your career." You appreciated the gesture, but it seemed so extreme, especially after a silly fight.
"You deserve all of me, baby. Not half, or only sometimes. I never want to make you feel like you have to compromise on my attention." Travis felt no remorse at taking a step back from his commitments. It felt like the right thing to do. You opened your mouth to object, but Travis distracted you with a kiss, gentle as your lips met.
"Did you get the strawberry cake for Nannah?" Travis questioned, barely broken away from the kiss. "Strawberry? What strawberry cake?" Travis backed away, his eyes wide. You enjoyed his panic for a second before giggling. "Just kidding. Everything is taken care of." You lifted off of his lap, pulling him to his feet.
"Good." He gave you a few more pecks, a smile in his tone." You almost gave me a heart attack. I can't let my little girl down on her birthday."
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lightofthemoonglow · 7 months
Text
kinktober day seven and eight
Virginity | Waxplay | Stuck in Wall
Breeding | Gore | Master & Slave
third person reader because that is how it turned out oops
Sequel here
Thomas Hewitt
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The day had finally come.
The wedding dress is older than the bride. The bride is considered an adult in every part of the world, in basically every sense. And yet she still wears a dress that Luda Mae had brought for herself a long time ago, back when she had hopes for a whole other life that had never come to pass. It’s obvious why she’s doing this, but it’s harmless in comparison to everything else about the situation.
One interaction had been all it had taken for this deal to be worked out. The bride had come from a family of carnival workers that had passed through Travis County that had decided to stick around, her mother becoming friendly with Luda Mae despite the two of them living seemingly very different lives. All the girl had done was shyly ask Tommy about his job at the slaughterhouse as she offered him a bowl of the chili she had brought over. This was some good meat. I bet you had something to do with it. And Luda Mae had noticed the shift in her son’s body language, how he wasn’t as on guard as he normally was for a moment.
It had started as joke between the two mothers. And then they had started seriously discussing it. It made sense. The pool of candidates was already small and neither of their children were exactly…popular. The bride had struggled to finish school after fighting tooth and nail to get in. Thomas had dropped out. Their families were already close. And then, the tornado happened, killing the bride’s father. It was as good a time as any, they had figured. The town was dying slowly, the writing was on the wall. They needed to make it happen before the bride left town for good.
And so, they had wound up in the backyard of the house, the town preacher pronouncing the young couple man and wife, on edge due to the gun that Charlie had aimed at him, ready to pull the trigger if this marriage wound up not being true in the eyes of the lord. While he didn’t believe in that shit, Luda Mae did and his sister’s word was law in their home. The bride was a vision in antique white, her voice trembling as she said ‘I do’. Thomas only grunted in response, Charlie snapping ‘the boy damn well does!’ when the preacher tried to get the larger man to speak.
“I’m glad it’s you,” Luda Mae says to the bride after the cake has been cut and everyone is milling about the yard, the preacher nowhere to be seen. He would never be seen again, but no one would notice or care. “You always had a kind word for my boy.”
And for the first time since her hesitantly uttered vows, the bride speaks. “Of course. He’s a good boy. This was all just a little fast, Mrs. Luda Mae.” But that was intentional, something she would realize later. The mother of the bride had all but dragged her down the aisle. The woman had cried, wailed as she told her daughter that she need to do this, so she could be taken care of, implying that it wouldn’t be long until the bride’s parents were reunited.
After the party, the happy couple was led upstairs, where they were to stay all night. “I want a grandbaby by next spring,” Luda Mae instructed. It wasn’t the wistful dreaming of a woman who yearned to more little ones to spoil. Well, it was, but her tone was that of an order. They were going to grow the family, one way or another.
The room was dim, the sun peeking through the curtains. Thomas makes no move to take off his mask, choosing to just stare at his new wife as she walked towards the bed. The dress is pulled off, revealing a white slip covering her everyday undergarments. She folds it up, so it can be put away in the morning. Maybe it will even be used again one day. The sun shines down on her as she lays on the bed, waiting for him to join her.
“It’s alright. If you…want to.” She speaks softly, not approach him too closely. “I know your mama said that we have to, but I can wait.” Thomas is staring at her, watching her legs twitch slightly, fascinated by the dark peaks on her chest. Her breathing is steady, she’s not looking for an escape. Her eyes are meeting his whenever he allows it. Thomas knows what to do. He’s seen farm animals do it and Charlie had shown him a movie once, short and filthy. Luda Mae had found out about it and been cross for weeks.
The real thing is different. Thomas feels almost cornered as he tentatively touches the hem of the slip. His fingers graze her bare skin and he flinches, which makes her sit up and grab his hand.
“It’s alright, it’s alright,” she coos, stroking his hand with her thumb. “Tommy…I know neither of us exactly wanted this to happen. But if it had to be anyone, I’m glad it was you. I’ve always liked you.” His face didn’t matter to her, she didn’t care that he had to hide what had been eaten away by the sickness inside of him. He wasn’t going to kiss her, he couldn’t get to that point. Not yet.
They needed to do what was expected of them first.
It takes a while, the sun is almost gone when Thomas is finally ready to get on top of her, still mostly dress, only his nice trousers unzipped. She’s naked, comfortable with allowing him to see, to explore. Her body is warm, soft, and he’s so hard it hurts until he pulls it out of his trousers. But he doesn’t put it in, not yet. He can’t quite manage that last little bit of movement, not yet.
“It could happen, Tommy. Us havin’ a baby because of tonight.” She strokes his arm, not touching his face, not until he’s ready. And maybe that won’t be tonight. “I like the idea. Go on and feel how much, darlin’.” She spreads her legs slightly to let him know he could touch her. His prodding fingers found something warm and wet, and when he pushes, a finger slips inside. “It’s good when it’s wet like that. Means I’m excited. Like you are now.”
Another fingers joins the first and she gasps, but she doesn’t stop him. “We could make a baby tonight. You and me…” The images start coming to Thomas as he fingers explore her. His wife’s belly swollen with their child, her tits full of milk, everyone knowing that she belonged to him and only him-
He’s inside of her before he can stop himself. She gasps, grabbing onto his shoulders as his cock fills her up. Her breasts bounce as he thrusts, slow and experimental at first. “Good boy, good boy,” she whispers, her body suddenly filles with sensations she’s never felt before. Thomas is equally overwhelmed, she’s so warm and wet and good and hot and everything he’s ever wanted. She’s gripping onto him tightly, he’s in awe of the sight of himself inside of her.
Thick fingers stuff his seed back inside of her after he’s done, and he prays for the first time in years that it worked.
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aryxchse · 14 days
Text
the calm waters / percy jackson x daughter of amphitrite! reader.
a / n : i love the trope of married gods' children falling in love. and i will shamelessly write about it!!!!
warnings : cursing, blood, fighting, stoll twins being icons!!
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"y/n, we need you on the arena!" connor stoll called, rushing to you.
you were in the lake, meditating in the water to find inner peace or something, or just to be away from the camp's chaos. well, as you can see, your plan was doomed.
you sighed as you stepped outside of the waters, standing on the dock with the help of some waves. you weren't even wet, still in your dry camp tank top and blue shorts. "what happened this time, stoll?" you asked, hands resting on your hips.
"percy is beating one of my step brother so fucking bad," he panted out, and you didn't wait for him to finish for rushing to arena.
there was a big crowd, which made a big circle in the middle of the arena. you pushed away some kids to reach where percy was. and boy, the view was not good.
percy was on top of the poor kid, punching him non stop. the guy was already bleeding but percy seemed to go feral, and you wondered what could the boy have possibly done to make him this mad.
everyone was too scared to stop him, even the ares kids wasn't doing anything. and you knew you had to do something before he basically killed the boy.
"alright percy, that's enough." you yelled, grabbing percy's arm harshly to make him stand up. he stopped the minute he heard your voice, only panting now and giving death stares to the boy who fainted on the ground.
"he fucking deserved it." he growled, not looking at you. you kept him away from the boy as the apollo kids moved the kid away, immediatly to the infirmary.
"does it matter?" you held his face in your palms, expression serious. "control yourself."
the words seemed to have an affect on him, to a level of charmspeaking. his expression softed as his eyes met yours, quick breaths slowing too. "you're more than that." you spoke again, as the crowd standed far behind you.
as you both kept talking, mostly you calming percy down, and him easly melting under your touch, the stoll brothers stared at you both.
"i wonder how she can calm him down this easy." travis said, stooding beside his twin. they knew their brother were wrong, and they didn't liked the boy anyway.
"because of their parents, y/n is the daughter of amphitrite." connor explained, but from travis' expression, he knew his brother didn't understand what he meant. connor rolled his eyes before he continue to speak again.
"do you know why she's married with poseidon?" he asked, and travis shook his head as in 'no.'
"because, poseidon was a maniac back then," connor said, hitting his head. "and zeus made him marry with amphitrite to calm his temper down, which, it worked perfectly."
travis' expression changed, "oohhh," he smirked, crossing his arms like his brother. "i get it know. power of the love and all."
conner chuckled, shaking is head. "whatever this is, it's working and i'm glad. percy is no better than his dad, in fact, he's worst."
travis looked at him with his usual mischief. "well, we're glad he has his wife around him yeah?"
connor laughed. "totally."
the twins watched you go to the lake, diving in the water professionally.
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thatsdemko · 1 year
Text
super bowl - t.kelce
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masterlist
requested: n
pairing: dad!travis kelce x mom!reader
warnings: established relationship + children + mentions of pregnancy + mentions of Patrick mahomes
a/n: I just wanted to write for this fine man! me writing this does not mean I’m happy the eagles lost just an fyi.
you weren’t sure how the chiefs were able to pull this game off, but they did. the whole second quarter looked like a disaster. with mahomes down, the defense playing like shit, you weren’t sure how they were going to pull it together after half time. but there you stood waiting for the ‘okay’ to go onto the field with your two kids after the chiefs won the Super Bowl.
your arms were being tugged in two different directions thanks to your son, Lucas who was five, and your daughter, Ari, who was three. the two of them had minds of their own attempting to play with other kids or chase after the opposing team players. you were growing irritated hoping the security guard would finally free you all so you could find Travis, your husband.
finally being given the okay, you herded your children straight to your husband who was searching for you three the second everyone entered the field. “Daddy!” he heard Lucas’ voice and a small body wrap around his lower half.
“daddy won!” ari reached upward and Travis took her in his arms planting a kiss on her cheek before bending down to ruffle Lucas’s ginger hair. his eyes finally landed on yours giving you a big grin and you returned it.
“congrats, champ.” you pressed a quick kiss on his lips earning some gross noises from your kids only leaving you both to roll your eyes.
this was your kids first Super Bowl fully able to remember it. Lucas was young the first time around, and Ari was barely one the last time. you couldn’t believe how much time had gone by as you watched the three of them run around the field playing the confetti.
the Lombardi was making its way around with the players, while the press snapped pictures, video footage, and even interviewed the players. you watched an interviewer approach Travis and your daughter while you watched him answer questions.
“Travis, how are you feeling right now?” you watched Ari position herself into the crook of his neck to avoid looking at the camera. it earned an ‘Aw’ from the two of them, as Travis’ hand touched the back of her head, protectively.
“I’m happy! my wife and kids are here and they couldn’t be happier to celebrate.” he gestured for you to join the interview, but you just shook your head. it was much cuter the two of them, Ari was playing with the hat on his head while he tried to focus on the question she was asking him.
“we noticed your son has drifted off to hang out with the mahomes family, who do we have here with you?” she asked, making sure the microphone wasn’t too into your daughters face as Ari turned her head to look at the camera for a second before hiding again against her dad.
“this is Ari, she’s a little camera shy. but she’s her daddy’s girl, right?” he asked earning a little nod from her before she wiggled in his arms to be free. letting her down, she ran straight to you and the camera panned over to you and her.
a couple more questions later, he was done with the interview and finally being handed the Lombardi. you watched him carefully take the trophy from Patrick, and squat down to his kids letting them both touch it.
“daddy has two of these now.” you mentioned earning a nod from Lucas, who explained to Ari about the 2020 Super Bowl—that was narrated by Travis to him for bed time stories.
“does this ever make you wish you had one more?” Travis turned his head to face your direction. an irreplaceable smile was still on his lips that just melted your heart. despite the sweaty appearance, he was still handsome.
a smirk formed on your lips watching his eyes grow with concern, “well you don’t have to wish.” you watched his eyes grow big as the news settled in his brain, he reached over pulling you into his sweaty body. you had been holding off the news since you found out just before your departure for the Super Bowl, you figured it would be a perfect surprise no matter the outcome.
“you’re pregnant?” he mouthed the words, hoping nobody caught this interaction between you two and was still stuck on your kids cuteness with the Lombardi.
nodding, you felt his lips press against your forehead, “this is the best Super Bowl win.”
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kvtie444 · 3 months
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⋆‧₊˚ DEALER
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dealer! chris 😸 (one of my fav trav songs)
・₊✧⋆⭒˚。⋆
I rolled my head back against the headrest of the car, glancing at Chris as he counted the bills I gave him. He licked his thumb, flicking between each note before shoving the cash carelessly into his back pocket. Leaning over my body, he reached for the glove compartment, and I felt a butterflies as his toned arms brushed past me, his long fingers expertly opening it to retrieve a bag with my benz.
He sighed, holding out the bag for me at the edge of his fingertips. Our hands grazed as I took it, putting it into my purse. Chris was my dealer, and surprisingly, we were closer than most dealers and customers. I didn't mind; we got along well, and besides, he was fine. I wasn't blind.
Fiddling with the material of my seatbelt for a moment, I wasn't sure if he wanted me to go back inside my house or if he wanted to chill. As if reading my mind, he spoke up, "Just got this new strain of Cali, wanna try some?". I smiled and nodded. He smirked, the same smirk that never failed to send tingles through my whole body. Reaching over to the glove compartment again, he took out papers, filters, a lighter, grinder, and another bag.
He tipped out the bud into the grinder and handed it to me. I obliged, twisting the cap back and forth as he retrieved the papers. The soft hum of music from his playlist echoed through the car as we engaged in small talk about our day before he took the grinder from my hand.
I watched as he tipped it into the paper, using his lanky fingers to expertly roll up. He stuck his tongue out before licking and sealing the zoot, twisting the end. "Wait," I interrupted him, gripping his free wrist. He looked at me confused. "Are you driving?" I asked, worry evident on my face. He chuckled slightly, looking down, and I sighed. "You're not driving high. Come," I nodded toward my front door as I unbuckled my seatbelt.
He followed suit, and we walked up to my front door, him impatiently kicking the floor as I unlocked it. I led him to my room, slightly embarrassed by my unmade bed, but he seemed to have no problem with it. We both sat in the middle of my bed, facing opposite each other, as he eagerly took out his lighter and lit up.
He looks around my room as he takes a hit, ghosting the smoke out his mouth. As the room filled with the sweet scent of the newly lit joint, Chris passed the joint back to me. The soft glow of the dim room created an intimate ambiance. I took a drag from the joint, feeling the familiar warmth of the smoke as I passed it to Chris. Our fingers brushed again in the exchange, sending a subtle yet electric thrill through both of us.
"I've never been in your room before," he speaks up. I look at his hooded and red eyes, laughing slightly. "I know," I smile back at him. He chuckles and looks down for a second before looking back up at me. "It's nice, smells like you," he says, taking a drag. I roll my eyes playfully, "It smells like weed," I joke back. "You know what I mean," he mumbles.
He has a mischievous glint in his eyes as he licks his lips. Leaning his head back against the headboard behind him, his jawline now flexing as his red, hooded eyes look down at me. "You know what else I've never done before?" he asks. I hum back a "hm?" fiddling with the material of the blanket I was sitting on top of. "Shotgunned." My jaw almost drops, and I look back at him, feeling my cheeks go red. He smirks as he leans forward again. Like a magnet, I follow his movements. He cups my jaw slightly before I part my lips. He takes a hit and leans in, his plump pink lips brushing against my own.
The sensation of the smoke merging with our shared breath heightened the intimate atmosphere in the room. As he pulled back, a mischievous glint still lingering in his eyes, I couldn't help but chuckle nervously. The faint taste of the smoke lingered on my lips, creating a unique and exhilarating experience.
"That was... different," I remarked, my cheeks still flushed. Chris laughed, a low and warm sound that resonated through the room. "Good different, though," he added, his eyes locked onto mine.
The joint between us continued to pass back and forth as we exchanged sin small talk and lingering glances. The room felt like a cocoon, shielding us from the outside world and allowing our connection to deepen in the hazy ambiance.
Time seemed to dance in a slow rhythm, and I found myself captivated by the way Chris's eyes sparkled in the soft glow. As the joint neared its end, he leaned in again, his lips meeting mine in a gentle yet intense kiss. The shared smoke from earlier seemed to linger, adding an extra layer of connection to our entwined breaths.
Lost in the moment, I let the joint burn out in the rolling tray on my nightstand, the room enveloped in a comfortable silence. Chris leaned back against the headboard, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. We shared another quiet laugh, the kind that only two people in sync can understand.
"Not very professional of you. You do that with all your customers?" I laugh. He sighs, a smile still on his lips. "Just you princess".
・₊✧⋆⭒˚。⋆
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c4ttheart · 4 months
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taylor swift and travis kelce who ?
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it’s been about two days since the party, and god, sae wishes he never went. because now, the internet is blowing up about how he would apparently be dating you, and he is sitting in front of his exasperated manager and publicist who are desperately trying to make him understand the situation.
"why the hell would i date her ?" he spits out, venom laced in his tone. wasn’t he supposed to be a bachelor or something ?
"again, sae, it wouldn’t be real. just for a few months or so, you know ?" his manager pleads, like he has done so many times before (in vain.) the auburn haired male is about to retort a negation again, but is rudely interrupted when his publicist speaks up.
"do you not understand ? your following count has gone up by like, three million ? do you even know how many people came to your game last night just in hopes to see a glimpse of (name) in the bleachers ? do you realise how much good this would do to your reputation ? she is three times more famous than you, for god’s sake ! people are actually getting involved into soccer !" he screams out, tussling his hair beneath his hands, almost ripping his roots out.
"they call me (name)’s boyfriend." he says, voice laced with such disdain it almost gives his manager a heart attack.
"okay, maybe they do, but does that really matter when your salary has doubled ?"
and that, is how he finds himself in front of you, eating lunch, situated on a table a little too close to the window for his liking. he isn’t new to paparazzi, no, but he definitely doesn’t want to expose himself to the world like he is doing right now.
the restaurant is nothing fancy. it’s four stars, but the food is mediocre. the ceiling is white and high, littered with golden edges and big artificial chandeliers. the walls are white as well, and the structure makes him think of the fancy paris appartements, old, but beautiful. you’re sitting in front of him, another dress similar to the one from the party, albeit a bit more casual placed atop your body. outside, the sky is a vibrant blue, showcasing the contrasting yellow of the bright sun. everything screams fake and dishonest. the weather is too nice to be true for the end of november, and your uneasy expression gives away both your discomfort.
"um, so, tell me about yourself." you squeak out, fork playing with the rest of your food on your plate, avoiding his glare like you’re a little kid who just did something they weren’t supposed to.
"dunno. i play soccer. i’m twenty one, and-"
"no, not that. the real you."
he stays silent, and watches as your eyes bore into his. his brows furrow, what do you mean ? did he learn his whole practice speech by heart just for you to be uninterested in it ?
you sigh, and speak up again, "for example, i find comfort in consistent sounds. like the tapping of my heel against the floor that i know has been bothering ever since we sat down."
yes, he definitely noticed, and he cared, but he wasn’t about to make some rude remark about it, not when so many people were watching him. his brows furrow again. "i like green."
you hum, and the ghost of a smile is present on your lips. that’s good, right ?
"your eyes are green." you say, matter of factly, and he deadpans because yes, he knows that too so why are you pointing it out ?
"i know." he replies with a small gruff, as he stares at you again. you laugh, hand covering your mouth like he remembers you doing two nights ago. he doesn’t really know what’s funny, but he lets you finish, because even if you’re making fun of him, he thinks you’re pretty when he can spot your big toothy smile and puffed out cheeks. he looks away, pretending to stare at the glittering buildings in the distance.
"i originally didn’t want to be a middle fielder." he adds, and you smile again. he’s opening up.
"i originally never even thought of being a singer." you somewhat reply to him, the smile never leaving your lips even though he can tell this one is more forced than the previous one he witnessed.
but he doesn’t comment on it, he just hums. he never really was much of a talker anyways.
"who’s amaya ?" he finds himself asking instead, and his fiddles with his fingers when he hears a camera shutter nearby. you notice this, and place a hand atop of his in a way of unspoken comfort. the act causes more clicks to be heard, but you both pretend you are blind to it.
then you answer, your voice low, barely above a whisper like you are about to divulge to him some incredible secret. "my manager. she’s more of a best friend though, she takes care of me when life doesn’t."
his eyes slightly widen at your response, confused and intrigued at the same time. you aren’t blind, you see it, the lost look he gives you but you just flash your teeth at him and straighten your posture. "i’m just saying, you need a pretty good lawyer if you ever want to work in the music industry. shall we get out of here ?"
he nods, and lets you guide him to the backdoor like you have leaded the conversation. fifty hours ago, your name was one sae had briefly heard on the radio, but now, you were supposedly his and a lot more to handle than he imagined.
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kristencochefski1125 · 11 months
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Proposal || Travis Kelce
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You've been with your boyfriend Travis for 5 years now, it's been the best five years of your life honestly. He has shown you what unconditional love means and how you should really be treated in a relationship.
You hadn't had the best past before meeting Travis, you had been in shitty relationship after shitty relationship. All the guys that you had been with wanted you for one thing and one thing only, sex.
Travis changed your stance on relationships for the better. Yeah, the sex was amazing with him, but he showered you with so much love and adoration beyond the bedroom.
"Baby girl, what are you doing?" He asked as he came up behind you as you were looking out of the window in your master bedroom. "Just reflecting on the past five years with you, it's been nothing short of amazing and I can't thank you enough for all you've done for me Travis. I love you beyond words."
You turned to him and hugged him. He kissed the top of your head, since you were a whole foot shorter than he was, that was one of your favorite things.
"I would do anything for you pretty lady, you know that. Now, before we get all sappy. I have a surprise for you today, go into the bathroom and get ready for the day."
"You know I hate surprises Kelce, what the hell do you have up your sleeve?" "That's for me to know and for you to find out baby. Go on, get in the shower." He said pushing you into the bathroom.
You laughed and rolled your eyes at his antics. You got into the shower and did all the necessary things, once you got out, you saw a dress sitting on the counter.
You looked around and saw that there was a note on top of the dress. You wrapped the towel around your body and picked up the note.
"Baby girl, these past five years have been nothing but special between the two of us and I want to celebrate you and us and all we've overcome. Put this dress on and meet me downstairs when you're ready."
You smiled at his thoughtfulness and you held up the dress, it was a white flowy summer dress that went down to your mid calf, he did a really good job at picking this out.
You dried yourself off and did your hair and makeup and then put the dress on. You loved the way it flowed on your body and you thanked Travis for not picking something so tight.
After the dress was on, you picked out a pair of nude sandals and went downstairs to meet Travis. He was sitting on the couch in the living room and perked up when he hear you coming downstairs.
You smiled at him and took in his appearance. He was wearing a army green t-shirt and a pair of white jeans with some sneakers. "Always so fashionable baby." You said going over to him.
"Anything for my lady, now let's get going to your surprise." He said. You both went out to his car and of course, you're the passenger princess, he doesn't let you drive anywhere when the two of you are in the car together.
As you watched the scenery change outside the passenger window, you couldn't help but think where the hell he was taking you. Kansas City is a country place but, you guys are literally in the middle of nowhere.
"You're not taking me to get killed are you?" You said to him as he parked the car and he let out a laugh and looked at you. "You think after five years I would want to get rid of you that way?"
"Well you never know, we're in the middle of nowhere with no one around for miles." You said and he laughed again getting out of the car and coming over to open your door.
He grabbed your hand and helped you out of the car. You looked up at him and smiled and leaned down and kissed you. After he pulled away, he opened the trunk and you followed him to see what he had up his sleeve.
"Are we really having a picnic?" You asked with a smile on your face. "That we are, help me grab the blankets and that bag right there." You did as he asked and followed him to a clearing in the field.
He opened the basket and pulled out some glasses and food for the two of you to share. He poured some champagne for you and held up his glass for a toast.
"Here's to the best five years with the best woman by my side. I love you Y/N." He said and you smiled and leaned in and kissed him.
"I love you too Travis, thank you for being the best for me, I know the first couple of years were rough, but the last three have been nothing short of amazing with you."
You talked about all the times and memories that you had together and when the sun was setting you were noticing him getting nervous and fidgeting more.
"Trav, are you all good? You're sweating like a pig." You said as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "Yeah, I'm all good, let's take a walk."
You eyed him, but didn't question anything. You grabbed his hand as he helped you up and started walking. He was twirling you around and brought you into his chest and started slow dancing with you, even though there was no music.
"I love you, you know that right?" He said as he cupped your cheek in his large hand. "I think you've told me once or twice." You said as you looked up at him.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, grow old in a nursing home with you, have kids with you, travel the world when I'm done playing football. You've made me the happiest I think I've ever been, even happier when I won those Superbowl's, you mean more to me than football does. You're my life, and without you in it, it wouldn't be worth living. So, with that-" He said getting down on one knee, your hands go to your mouth to suppress the happy sobs that are coming from your mouth.
"Y/N, will you marry me?" Travis asked as he opened the little black box revealing the most perfect ring. You nodded your head and squeaked out a "yes"
He smiled at you and took the ring and put it on your finger and picked you up and spun you around.
"I love you so much fiancée." He said as he leaned down to kiss you. "I can't wait until I can call you my husband. I love you so much Travis. Forever and a day."
"Forever and a day."
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CITYBOUND III
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TW: sexual references 🚨
With her face in the sun, Taylor closes her eyes, feels the warm sensation hit her skin. A siren goes off, only a few feet away. The usual car honking that always reminds her exactly where she lives, also doesn’t stop. But it won’t end this peaceful moment. The first rays of sunshine in New York City this year. The first time she’s on the rooftop this year. Eleanor’s little voice from afar, playing by herself. In her winter puff jacket and with her sunglasses on her nose, she opens her eyes again now, looking at the blonde toddler sitting on the wooden patio floor only a few feet away from her. She’s playing with her dolls on top of the stairs leading to the covered pool. She seems to be in her own world, doesn’t even notice Taylor sitting on the sofa next to her, with a wool blanket on top of her. The fact that she so desperately soaks in these first sunrays of the year makes it more than obvious that she and Eleanor need to escape to LA for a few days. She can’t take winter no more. Time for spring to come.
“Honey, remember, no playing by the pool top.” Taylor says, using her hand to shield her sunglasses, making sure she can see clearly what the toddler in her green puffer jacket is doing. Eleanor just nods, two big tails on the little curly head. She’s playing with the two mini dolls that her mother got her a few weeks ago and she still seems to be obsessed with these little princesses. Taylor smiles. She sinks her head, fixes the big blanket over her legs and checks her phone. Just as she was about to reply to the dozens of unanswered messages in her inbox, she can hear the door from the end of the rooftop open. Within two seconds, Taylor sees two huge feet tucked into these ugly big Nike slippers. In his sweatpants he closes the door slowly, smiling through the sun right at her. He’s done with work. She’s glad. Two hours were two hours too long. Too long of him working, and her pretending as if she’s glad to have some time by herself. 
“Wow, this is nice.” he says as he slowly makes his way towards her. With an approving smile, Travis takes a look around the luxurious rooftop. Hard to believe that this peaceful outdoor space is right in the heart of Manhattan. 
“Yeah.” she just says, her eyes still focused on the tall man, slowly making his way towards her. He lets himself fall down right next to her on the outdoor couch. She smiles at him through her sunglasses. 
“How was it?” 
“Good.” he smiles at her, his hand already on her thigh again, right above the blanket that’s been keeping her warm out here. “Jason says hi.” 
She smiles, nods. She wonders what his brother thinks about all this. She knows that Travis is very independant from anyone’s opinions. It’s one of the things she admires about him. She knows he won’t get influenced by anyone else’s opinion about what they’re doing, who she is or whether this really is a good idea. But she still wonders what his family thinks. The fact that he’s just spending the week here, at her apartment. With her and her child. A weird thought that brings up some anxiety the more she thinks about it.
“Thanks.” she says, and he can feel that she’s insecure of how to react suddenly. 
“I didn’t.. I didn’t tell him much. He knows I’ve been seeing you, but nothing more.” he says, has clearly just read her mind again. She nods. It’s okay. This answer is something she can live with. 
“I know.” she says quietly, moves her cold hand on top of his. Her eyes looking for Eleanor once more. Travis just looks at the blonde woman next to him, smiles. He moves his thumb a little up and down, gently caressing her small and soft hand that’s on his. 
“How are you feeling?” he asks then, and Taylor looks back at him. She sighs, leans back on the comfortable sofa that the two are sitting on, just facing the sun. He still can’t believe how nice and quiet it is here, in the middle of a rooftop in this big city jungle. 
“Crappy, to be honest. But it’s okay. I’m used to it. Anytime she gets something, I get it two days later. Just… mom life.” she says, almost laughing at the end of her sentence. He nods. “I feel bad though because I told you a million times that you’re getting it next. And..” 
“And I told you a million times that I don’t care.” he interrupts her gently, not raising his voice. Instead, his hand just keeps on caressing hers and it does something to her that she can’t quite explain. She feels safe. She feels seen.
“You’re stubborn, has anyone ever told you that before?” 
He laughs at her statement, throwing his head back like a little kid for a second. She can’t help but smile at him, too. She loves it when he laughs like this. She loves how easy everything is with him. There’s no darkness when they’re together. The black dog that always follows her around just disappears. This familiar blue feeling of anxiety on her chest dissolves slowly. He’s pure sunshine, and she doesn’t know he is aware. 
“Touché.” he just says. She smiles. She’s got no arguments left. 
“Mommy, Travy. Look.” 
The two are suddenly pulled out of their thoughts. With her little pink converse shoes, Eleanor comes running towards the two of them. Travis can’t help but laugh at her bouncy pigtails. With her finger up in the air she stops right in front of him, holding the little ladybug right into his face. 
“Honey, don’t.. don’t push it in Travis’s eye, please. Careful.” Taylor tries to stop her toddler, but it only makes the man next to her laugh. With his big hands, he gently holds on to the little hand, looks at it in awe, just like Eleanor did before. 
“Wow, where did you find this little beauty?” he asks Eleanor. Her eyes are lid up. Taylor loves it. She loves seeing the world through Eleanor’s eyes. She loves that for this little girl, life is still as magical as it can get. 
“It.. it was just flying on my hand. Just like that.” she says, giggles in excitement that this little animal chose her for a visit on this sunny afternoon. 
“Want me to show you a trick?” Travis asks, and Eleanor nods. Taylor watches the interaction and smiles. With his huge fingers, he shows the little girl how to get the ladybug to crawl from her one hand to the other. Eleanor giggles, and Travis smiles at her when she does it herself for the first time. 
“Now, you have to make a wish. Close your eyes.” 
With a smile on the little face, she closes her eyes. Her small hands still gently in Travis’s. Taylor’s heart feels like bursting for a second. 
“You got one?” 
“Mhmhm.” 
“Now blow it away. One, two…” 
Eleanor blows the ladybug away, jumps up and down for a minute out of excitement. Travis laughs at the little girl’s excitement, still holding both her hands in his. 
“Great job, E. High five.” 
Eleanor claps her small hand against Travis’s. The smile on the little face is so evident to Taylor. Eleanor feels the sunshine, too. 
Not just the one coming from the New York skies today. 
She runs away, back to playing with her dolls at the end of the patio. Travis still chuckles, looking after her. His hand wandering to hers again. 
“She’s so adorable.” he laughs, then looks at Taylor. She smiles at him, and he knows exactly what her face is telling him right now. 
“I know, she is. Thanks for.. for being so sweet with her.” 
Travis doesn’t say anything for a moment. He appreciates her words. Truth is, he appreciates every moment of the past 48 hours. Being here, in her home, with Taylor and her daughter. Being able to just be together. Watching her take care of her child. Taking care of her. Lots of hugs to give and witness. Lots of kisses in this house. Lots of laughs. He hasn’t felt this happy and secure in a while and he hopes that this bubble won’t burst anytime soon. He knows it’s outrageous for him to have cancelled a majority of his off season plans for this week, just to spend time here. It’s unlike him to give up work (and play) commitments just to be with a woman. But this time, it’s different. It feels more like a deep need to be here with her now. Not like a choice. He knows, he needs to find the right words soon. But for now, it’s enough to turn off his mind for a bit. Enjoy a few more hours of heaven with Taylor. 
“Thanks for introducing me to her.” he replies, his face moving closer to hers. He gently kisses her cheek, his beard scratching her slightly. She looks back at him, nods then. Her forehead leans gently against his chin, her small hand caresses his beard for a moment. He steals her forehead a tiny kiss. 
“Means a lot, Tay.” he adds. She nods. He knows it still makes her feel incredibly vulnerable to have let him enter her and Eleanor’s life. And he can only fathom why. It must have been a tough fight for her to take back her own life after separating from Eleanor’s dad. And he knows she won’t let anyone hurt her daughter ever again. But he just wishes she’d know that he will never hurt either of the two. 
She doesn’t reply to him, instead lets her head gently fall onto his shoulder. His arm wanders around her and he loves holding her like this. The sun facing them. It’s peaceful here. It’s peaceful between them. He loves to feel this shift since the other night. Since the night she opened up, and allowed him to get close.
Closer than ever before.
___
With the hood of his jacket pulled deep into his face, he enters her building. It’s gotten dark outside now, and the sunny afternoon has turned into an icy, freezing night. Brandon opens the big doors for him, then enters the code to operate the elevator for him, and a few seconds later he steps inside. The doors close, and he can finally pull down the hood covering him. He can breathe again. None of the paparazzi outside have noticed him. 
“Quiet evening, man?” he asks the security guard, who politely smiles back. 
“Yeah, all good. Did some shopping?” 
Travis smiles and nods, the wine he got for himself and Taylor securely wrapped in a brown bag in his hands. 
“Yup. Got her some snacks. Keeping both of’em happy.” he jokes.
Brandon smiles. The interaction ends once the elevator door opens again. Travis steps outside, uses the key she gave him to enter the penthouse. Brandon says his goodbye, wishing him a nice evening and Travis closes her door. In an instant, her smell creeps back into his nose, into his lungs, into his… heart. It’s the same smell as her hair, when he kisses her head gently. The same smell as all her clothes, and the bed he slept in for a few nights now. He feels this indescribable feeling of happiness again, just by smelling her. He knows he’s far beyond the stage of falling for her. Her home feels like home to him, and every day - it just keeps getting worse. 
Travis takes off his jacket, gently throws it over the chair in the living room. He steps into the generous, open kitchen, and carefully places the bags of food and wine on the countertop. He knows Taylor struggled to get Eleanor to sleep tonight. So the last thing he wants to do is wake up the small girl. He takes the bottles of wine from the brown bag, finally finds free space in the wine cabinet on the other side of the kitchen.
“Hi.” he hears a familiar voice coming from the stairs then. He turns to her, closes the wine cabinet. She smiles, the same make up free face as earlier, before he left to go to the grocery store on Greenwich Street that she loves so much. She’s in her comfy clothes from before, her bangs a bit messed up from Eleanor’s pillow. 
“Is she out?” he asks, and Taylor nods, makes her way up to him. He immediately opens his arms, pulls her in for a tight hug. Her face pressed into his shoulder, nothing but her bangs looking out. She breathes him in. 
“Yeah finally.” she sighs, “Why do you smell so good.” 
Travis chuckles, moving his head in her tight hug to kiss her soft cheek again. 
“You smell so much better.” 
She lets go of him, both her hands wandering to his face. She smiles, then comes closer to kiss him gently. 
“I got you some snacks. And wine. And..” 
“Thanks so much. I promise, I will make a batch of cookies later tonight. I haven’t forgotten it. And I really want you to try these. Because, quite frankly, it’s a crime to stay at my house for more than 24 hours without trying my chai..” 
“Hey, I have a better idea.” he says then. She stops for a second, has already started reaching for flour, sugar and the chai tea in her cupboard right in front of her. She can feel his big hands wrap around her from behind, and it makes her smile.
“Yeah, and what is that?” she asks, his beard pressed into her neck, gently kissing her skin. 
“Come here.” he mumbles. One second passes and she feels his strong arms on her hips, lifting her up and placing her on the countertop behind her. She can’t help giggle a bit, loves that she’s towering him now. Her hands securely on his shoulders. He’s so strong and it never leaves her unimpressed. His nose touches hers for a second, and the smile on his face warms her heart in an instant. 
“Mister, if this is what I think it is, can I remind you…” 
“It’s not.” he assures her, kisses her again, can’t help but let out a laugh. She closes her eyes, both her arms wrapped around his neck. She feels herself letting go, a low sigh escaping her mouth. He pulls back after a few seconds, fixing a strand of hair behind her ear. 
“I wanna spoil you tonight.” he says then, and she smiles, biting her lower lip for a second. He’s so handsome in this moment, and his eyes could move a damn mountain. She can’t unsee these pictures of him as a little boy. He truly, still, is the goofy kid he told her he once was. And god, does she have love for this kid. Does she have love for this man in front of her, his huge hands being so gentle and kind.
“You spoil me every night.” she whispers against his lips, making him laugh a bit. 
“I don’t mean that kind of spoiling you.” he says, and she stops for a second. 
“Wait, you’re not talking about… sexy time?” 
“Sexy time?” he asks her with a laugh, can’t believe this is the way she describes their mindblowing, life-changing sex.
“I mean.. yeah it can be. But, I want to give you a massage. A proper one.” 
She can’t believe his words, almost feels insecure for a moment. It’s been a long time since someone she shared a bed with has made this kind of effort for her. She still remembers, early on with Joe, he would do small little things for her. But it was never like this. It was always accidental. Always unplanned, but sweet. But this, right here, with Travis, is different. She can’t believe he’s thought about this. Can’t believe he wants to spend the evening giving her a massage, has actively thought about what she would need right now. It’s a new level of attentiveness she’s foreign to when it comes to relationships. 
“Would you.. would you like that?” he asks then, has noticed her getting lost in her own thoughts. Within a second, she’s pulled back to reality and nods. Her mouth forming a smile.
“I would love that. I would absolutely love that. Thanks so much.” she murmurs, comes closer to him again and kisses him gently. He can tell she’s touched by this gesture, but that’s exactly what he wanted to achieve tonight. He wants to make her feel appreciated, respected, loved. He knows that after the past years with her ex, it’s still hard for her to let herself fall, enjoy the moment, let someone else take full control. But she deserves to be spoiled. She deserves to be treated this way. Always.
“Want to eat first? Or..” 
She shakes her head, and it makes him laugh. She just presses her face next to his, hugging him like a koala bear. He smiles, can feel her craving his proximity. Within a second, he has lifted her up from the countertop, slowly walking up the stairs with her hugging him this closely. He can hear her giggle into his sweater, carefully closes the door to her bedroom behind them. 
“Shall I leave the door open in case the little one wakes up?” he asks, carefully lets her down. She looks up at him smiling, then shakes her head. 
“No, all good. I still have the baby monitor app on my phone. If there’s movement in her room, my phone goes off.” 
He nods, his hand already on her cheek, stealing her forehead a last kiss before letting go again. She quickly turns on the little light next to her bed, then dims the room by turning off the main light. The mood has shifted, and it’s this romantic, low light she loves so much whenever she gets to be alone with him. This is her safe space. Him in her bedroom. The door closed. The world just staying outside. 
“I’ll quickly go pee, okay? Do you.. do you need anything?” 
“Bodylotion and a towel.” he says, and she smiles, not moving for a second. 
“What?” 
Standing in the door to the bathroom, looking at him, she just starts giggling. Her hand in front of her mouth now, the way she always does, whenever she gets shy for a second. 
“Nothing. I.. I just can’t believe you’re so serious about giving me a massage.” 
“Of course I am.” he says, has already taken off his sweatshirt and throws it over the little chair at the end of her bedroom. 
“Do you have a lighter?” 
“Yeah, top drawer by my bedside.” she says, can’t believe he’s putting so much effort into this. She just watches him reach for the lighter, then begins putting on the big Loewe candle at the end of her room. She can’t believe he’s got this romantic side to him. A side of him she doesn’t really know that well yet. He suddenly looks at her, a bit confused, not sure what she’s waiting for.
“Go pee, now. Come on.” 
“Okay, okay.” she mumbles, laughing to herself and closing the bathroom door gently. A few minutes later, the door opens again and she’s slowly stepping up to him. He has sat down on the side of her bed now, wearing nothing but his sweatpants and some socks. She stops right in front of him, looks around the room. She can’t believe he’s put on the candles. 
“Bodylotion?” 
“Oh, I forgot.” she mumbles, makes her way back into the bathroom again. When she comes back, she passes him her favorite shea body butter and a large white towel. A little out of place, she just stands there, watches him place the towel on top of her bedding. 
“Shall I..” 
“Come here, I’ll do that.” he smiles at her, and she trusts him. In her sweatpants and shirt, she crawls onto the bed, lands on her back and giggles as he reaches for the hem of her shirt, slowly pulling it over her head. She’s not wearing a bra yet he won’t break eye contact to her. A few seconds pass, and her pants have gone, too. She lays there for a moment, in the dim light, feeling a bit more vulnerable than usually. 
“You warm enough?” he asks her, notices immediately that she’s not a hundred percent comfortable. But she nods, just watches him closely. He puts a generous amount of body lotion into his hands, starts warming his hands together. 
“Shall I.. shall I take these off?” she asks him with a smirk in her face, and it makes him laugh.
“Yes.” 
“Oh, so it’s that kind of a massage?” 
“Babe..” 
“I’m teasing.” she giggles, gets rid of her thong and turns around. Laying flat on her stomach now, she feels his hands land on her back and it makes her shiver for a second. With her head turned to the side she closes her eyes, feels him fix her hair to the side, to ensure it’s out of the way. 
“Do you have a spot that pains you sometimes?” he asks her, almost a whisper. This is their world. Nobody is here to listen in, and she feels herself let go. Feels herself open up. 
“Yeah my.. my upper back and neck. I have horrible posture, so..” 
Within a second, Travis starts massaging the spot that always hurts her, and she melts into the pillow. She feels goosebumps form all over her body, and she can’t believe he’s so good at doing this. For a moment, she can’t really speak, can’t really think anymore. His warm, soft hands kned over her skin and she feels a deep relaxation take over her. 
“Oh my god..” she whispers then, and he smiles, giving his best to help her muscles relax properly. 
“Is that okay?” he asks her quietly, his hands moving up and down her back, again and again. 
“So good. This is.. so good.” he smiles, continues his work. He takes some more of the body lotion, moves with his hand movements down again to her lower back. He can feel her relax more and more underneath him. With her eyes closed, the talkative woman is suddenly dead quiet. 
“Baby?” 
He hears her whisper, almost feels like his entire body tingles for a second. She’s never called him that. She’s never called him anything other than the occasional ‘babe’ or ‘Trav’. For a second, he loosens his movements, looks up at her. She hasn’t moved, her eyes are still closed. He’s worried he might have hurt her. A hint of fear coming through. 
“You okay?” 
“I might fall asleep, is that.. are you mad, if I..” 
He laughs gently, keeps on working on her back. 
“You can fall asleep if you want to. This is for you to relax, stop worrying about falling asleep.” he says in the calmest way possible. Taylor doesn’t move. She feels herself drift off, can’t believe the amount of work and effort he puts into every single inch of her body. She can still feel him work on her lower back, now slightly moving to her hips. She can feel his talented hands move down every single muscle on her side. Not only are his movements the perfect amount of pressure and ease, but he also seems to have an extensive knowledge about the general muscle allocation. She’s never been massaged by someone she’s intimate with, didn’t know how good it can feel to let go off the tensions she carries in her upper thighs, and even her bottom. She doesn’t move, doesn’t know if she’s asleep yet or if she’s reached a new level of letting go. She can feel him work his way down her legs, massaging out all the tension from tour rehearsals in her calves. It’s the first time that his touch hurts a little, but it gets less and less with every round of kneading from his fingers. With every touch, the tension leaves her body. She lets out a soft sigh when he starts massaging her feet. She knew he’s good at foot massages, but she didn’t know his massaging skills extend to her other muscles, too. 
“You still awake?” 
“Mhmhm.” she mumbles. 
“Can you turn around for me?” 
She immediately moves in her bed, looks at the man smiling at her. He can’t help but laugh a little bit. She must have been so comfortable that she didn’t notice the pillow leaving a proper imprint on the right half of her face. She’s too cute. Before reaching for the body lotion again, he can’t help but get closer, steals her warm cheek a soft kiss. 
“I’m shocked about how talented you are, mister.” she mumbles then, relaxation in her voice. He smiles, reaches for her left hand, massages her arms up and down. She’s laying fully exposed in front of him. No blanket covering her. And she’s never felt so safe. Never before. 
“This is the best massage I’ve ever gotten.” she adds. Her eyes slowly closing. With his left hand he holds her arm upright, kneading all the tensions in her upper arm. 
“I’m glad.” he says, fully focused on his work. “I’ve gotten so many massages before that I really picked up where some of the muscles are located, and what type of movements help release tensions.” he explains, slowly lets go off her arm, and Taylor opens her eyes again. She feels his hands full of lotion gently massage her tummy now. Suddenly, her hand reaches for his arm. He looks at her. 
“Trav?” 
“Mhm?” 
“Kiss me.”
He smiles, comes closer to her and steals her lips a gentle kiss. He lets go after a few seconds, keeps on massaging her soft belly. She feels everything in her body tingling for a second, and she knows why. She knew this massage would eventually get to this point, but she didn’t think it would relax her this much. She then feels his hand move up her torso and within a second, her eyes are open. Wide open. He stops then, lowers his head and starts laughing. Within a second, the mood has changed. Drastically.
“I promise this.. this was not a boob grab, I just wanted to massage your cleavage. You do have muscles there. Believe me or not. And..” 
She giggles, too, holding onto his strong arm, clearly messing with him. 
“Please go ahead, I’m not stopping you.” she says with a giggle, her eyes not leaving his. With his soft hands he wanders up, starts massaging the muscles on the side of her neck. He’s so close to her face now, so close, and his hands keep on making the same moves. She looks deep into his eyes, feels him hit her deep muscle tissue then. She swallows. It hurts. It hurts to feel all the tension leave her body. She closes her eyes. 
“You’re so tense here.” he whispers. She nods. He keeps massaging her. “Feels like.. feels like you carried a lot of weight on your chest.” 
She has no idea why, but within a second, a tear streams down her face. Travis stops immediately, but her hand reaches for his. 
“Please keep.. keep going.” she sniffles. She doesn’t know why she gets so emotional all of the sudden. But whatever he was doing with her body right here, works. She feels all these stuck feelings leaving her body. So many emotions come back up. She’s so tired suddenly. She feels this pain so clearly. But she needs him to keep going. She needs him to knead it out until the very end. 
“Is it.. is it getting less?” he asks her, has noticed what she experienced just now. He’s learned from his physiotherapist that especially in the chest area, people tend to hold their tensions. Their grudges. Their undigested feelings. The last thing he wants to do is hurt the woman in front of him. But with every kneading movement of his fingers, he can feel her soften up. She has her eyes closed, nods. He won’t stop. After a few minutes, his movement gets slower. She opens her eyes again, looks into his. Within a second, her hands land in his neck and she pulls him down to her, kisses him gently. Her tears have dried up, and instead, she feels him be as gentle as she can be. And he loves tasting her. He loves how soft she is. Everything about her. A doze of dopamine hitting his system. She lets go off him then, her hands in his neck so that their noses still touch. 
“Thank you.” she whispers against his lips. He nods. She doesn’t need to say anything else. Slowly, she reaches for his left hand, not letting her eyes leave his. Within a few seconds, he realizes where her hand has moved. With the most gentle motion, she has placed his hand on the most intimate part of her body. He understands immediately, lowers his face to kiss her neck gently. He’s trying so hard. He’s trying so hard not to let these three words just come bursting out of his mouth in this moment. Her skin is so soft under his lips, her little hands on his scalp, caressing him gently. He can feel her longing for him in between her legs. His fingers gently exploring her body, being as careful as they could be. Within a few seconds, he leaves her neck, looks back into her eyes again. Her lips are a bit swollen from their previous kisses, and there’s a kind of calmness in her eyes he hasn’t seen before. 
“You sure?” he asks her again, and she appreciates it so much. Not a single time they’ve slept with each other without Travis asking for her consent beforehand. She appreciates this, appreciates just how much he respects her. She nods, adjusting her head on the pillow. She looks down, so that she can witness his fingers moving gently. She feels her chest rising, enjoys every single one of his hand movements so much. She swallows, her breath a bit shaky now. She can feel him kiss her cheek while his hand keeps up the steady movement. She feels so safe in this moment. She knows she can let go. She knows with him, she’s always safe to let go. 
“Fuck..” she mumbles then, a little sigh escaping her mouth then, breaking the silence between them. She’s holding onto his neck with her hand, desperately looking at him.
“Can you..” 
Travis immediately looks at her. She is fully focused on his hands, her left hand on his lower arm now, feeling his muscles move while he pleasures her. With the other hand, she’s holding onto the towel underneath her. She struggles to speak right now, but he patiently waits for her to finish her thought. He feels so close to her in this moment. They’ve just reached a new level of intimacy. He can feel it in his bones. 
“What..” 
“Can you go.. just a bit faster?” 
He doesn’t reply to her, just does what she asked him. His circle motions are steady but at a higher speed than before. And she appreciates it. So much. She lets her head fall back into the pillow, the little frown appearing on her face that he knows so well. A frown he only knows when he’s in between her legs. And he loves it so much. With his free hand he begins to caress her naked stomach a bit, her hand reaching for his. She’s close. And he’s ready to be there for her, for every second of it. A last little moan escapes her mouth and it gives him goosebumps. Suddenly, her breathing gets faster and faster and he can hear her whisper his name a few times, with the same high pitched desperate moan that he knows and loves so much. He can feel her ride off her wave of pleasure, tightly holding into his arm, guiding him in his movements. He looks into her face as it happens, and he swears he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life. For a few seconds, she breathes fast with her mouth open, her body just coming down from this mountain she climbed with him. He knows she’s sensitive now, and he’s as gentle with her as humanly possible. His hand still between her legs, he doesn’t move, gives her the time and space to come back down to planet earth. She opens her eyes again after a few seconds, her cheeks flushed. She just pulls him down to her, kissing him full of giggles and lust. He can feel her hand reach for his boxers. He laughs into the kiss. He knows what she wants, and he would be lying if he said he doesn’t want exactly the same. 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” she mumbles in between the shower of kisses she gives him, her hand now fully landing on his naked butt. She smiles into their kiss. The stubble of his beard scratching her face in the best way. 
“You’re so welcome.” he whispers back, smiling at her. She loves to feel his naked weight on top of her now. Two noses touching. He looks down for a second, gently guiding himself into her. He watches her face closely, trying to find any trace of discomfort. But there is none. She closes her eyes in pleasure again, and so does he. Paradise. He opens his eyes again, feeling her arms holding onto his. Her frown is back. Paradise. He can feel her move with him, her mouth opened, sweet moans escaping her again. He knows she’s holding back, not forgetting that they’re not alone in this house. But he’s still in paradise. 
“Baby..” she cries out then, half a whisper, half a beg, half a moan. He looks at her, his big hand already cupping her face. He kisses her forehead right over her bangs. She’s warm. She’s slowly but surely starting to sweat a little, just like him. 
“Can I.. I want to be on top, please. Please.” she mumbles. He immediately stops, lets himself fall next to her in bed. He feels her get up, position herself on top of him. She’s still flushed, yet her eyes barely leave his. He looks up at her, can’t help but feel like he’s dreaming. Her long hair over her naked shoulders. Her hands reaching for his chest to hold herself upright. She’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. She begins her movements again, and he helps her. His hands on her hips, his eyes on her face. She’s so beautiful. He can’t help but look at her. Can’t help but stare at her letting go on top of him. 
After a few minutes, he feels his vision get blurry. She lets out another moan, a little louder than before. He feels himself come undone, then loves to feel her collapse on his chest. She’s breathing heavy, both of his hands on her bare back, feeling her lungs do the most in this moment. She comes down only slowly. Her skin hot and soft. She doesn’t move, just relaxes slowly. And he loves every minute of it. He loves feeling her get heavier and heavier on him. His hands stroking her back up and down, making her feel just as loved as before they had sex. A few seconds later, she looks back up at him, a smile on her face. He smiles back at her, both his hands cupping her face now, kissing her gently. This time, there’s no lust in his kisses no more. There’s just love. A lot of love. 
She quickly moves on his torso and lets herself fall next to him. She stares at the ceiling for a second, then turns her head back to him. He’s moved to his side, just so he can see her better. His hand on her stomach again. He loves being so close to her. There’s nothing better than being so close to her. His fingers drawing circles on her skin. 
“That escalated quickly.” she mumbles. He laughs, stealing her temple a soft kiss. 
“Thanks for your.. for your incredible massage. Also for.. the other part after.” she says, grinning at him as goofy as a teenager who just had sex for the first time. It makes him laugh. 
“I don’t think my body has ever felt so relaxed, Trav.” she whispers. His lips still on her temple. He smiles, as she looks back at him. There’s a sparkle in her eyes, he hasn’t noticed before. It must be the afterglow that people always speak about. 
“You’re very welcome. Glad you liked it.” 
“I didn’t just like it. Trav, that was.. electric. Literally electric.” 
He smiles at her using his own words. She lets their noses touch once, has now moved to the side to be face to face, and eye to eye with him. 
“Thank you so much.” she says again. He doesn’t really react, just places his hand on her cheek. There’s so much love in his eyes in this moment. He doesn’t need to say anything. His eyes just say it all. 
“You cold?” 
“A little.” 
He starts moving, for the first time since minutes and helps her crawl underneath the big blanket just under them. She adjusts a little, then cuddles herself fully under the covers. Her hands looking for him. She moves again, until she’s finally fully embraced in his arms. He kisses her head, makes sure she’s covered by the blanket. Silence takes over, and he allows himself to close his eyes for a minute. 
“Trav?” 
“Mhm?
“Can we try this?” 
“Try what?” 
“Us.” 
For a second, he can’t dare believe his ears. His eyes open, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t know if she just meant what she said, but she said it. Taylor moves again, turns around to be able to face him. She’s worried suddenly that she’s said too much. She’s worried that his silence is something other than utter surprise. He looks at her in shock. Within a second, she feels a tummy ache flaring up inside of her. 
“Do you.. can you please say something?” she mumbles and he takes a breath, slowly sits up. She’s worried now. She’s never witnessed him this freaked out. She knew it was too soon. But she can take it back. Thank god she didn’t fully speak it out yet. She can fix this. She looks at him leaning against her bed rest. She carefully sits up as well, holding the blanket close to her naked body. 
“I’m so sorry for.. just.. not finding the right words, Tay.” he says finally, and she nods “No worries, I mean I know I..” 
“My answer is yes. But I need you to know what I’m in for.” he interrupts her and she’s shocked for a moment. She looks at him, feels her hands shaking suddenly. She doesn’t feel relaxed anymore, at all. What bomb did she just set off? She can feel him get nervous as well. It’s been a while since he was acting like this around her. 
“I.. I don’t want us to just be another fling. I..” he stops, gathering his words, “I know this is not the most romantic way to do this, but if we try this, if we.. if we try being something serious. Like.. as serious as a relationship. Then.. then I want you to know that I’m in it for the long run.” he looks into her eyes, fully aware that this could scare her off for good. But he needs to honor himself. He needs to be straight with her, or else this won’t have a chance of working out. 
“I’m not in this, if.. if you want a little distraction. Or a little fun. I want a partnership. I want to have a family eventually. And of course, we.. we have a long way to go. To see if we fit. To see if this can work. But I just want you to know that if we try this, then.. then this is my intention.” 
Travis takes a deep breath after finishing his little speech. He can’t dare look at her again, but he’s proud of himself for having said it. Suddenly, he feels her hands reach for his. He looks back into her eyes, and she smiles. A little tear in her eyes. He can see that clearly. 
“Okay.” she whispers. He swallows, not sure how to react. All he feels is her small hand caressing his. 
“Okay?” 
She nods, a smile on her lips. 
“I want the same thing. With you. But.. I’m just.. I just hope you know what you are in for. With all this attention. I will be on tour soon, Trav. If you think this is bad, the security and the.. the staying hidden, then you have no idea what you’re in for in the next months. My life is crazy. My life is.. fully out of control. But it’s my life. And I have lost years of my life hiding for someone else who couldn’t handle the pressure. And.. and I can’t do that no more. I’m all in, but I just hope you know what that means for you.” 
He looks at her, a big smile on his face. All the worries from before are gone. He nods. 
“Tay?” 
She looks at him, worry in her face. She knows his smile can’t really mean that he changed his mind after her little speech. But she is in fact worried that he will regret this. That he will ask her for more time to think about this. About what it means to be in a relationship with her. 
“I need to tell you something.” 
“What?” she says, her hand still holding his. She looks at the man in her bed. His naked torso leaned against her bed rest, his smile all over his face as he looks at her. She feels calm just looking at him smile like this, but there’s still a part of her that is full of anxiety right now. 
“I.. I think I’m really really really in love with you. Like… so much, it’s not even funny.” 
She doesn’t say anything, just stares at him for a moment. 
“Is that okay? I feel like.. maybe this is a good time to tell you. I will let you know if I can’t handle your life, I promise. But I need you to know that I’m ridiculously in love with you. And.. and it would make me the happiest person on this planet to call you my girlfriend.” 
Travis finishes his sentence. She doesn’t say anything, just sits up a bit, both of her hands touching his cheeks. She presses her forehead against his, then leans in and kisses him. It’s a different type of kiss. She’s emotional. His hands land on her bare back again. 
“I love you, too.” she whispers then, closes her eyes and lets him kiss her bangs gently.
“So much.”
___
“You sure this is a good idea?” 
He asks again, sitting on the bed and looking at her. He’s wearing a pair of his Nike sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He watches her finish her make up in the mirror by her bedroom. She looks incredible, just like every day. A pair of blue boyfriend jeans covering her small frame, a grey longsleeve shirt on top and her black adidas shoes covering her feet. He loves to watch her get ready in the morning. He doesn’t know why, but it’s just another way of spending time with her. Witnessing her every move, every mundane thing she does in the morning, getting to know her even better. 
“Of course it is.” she says again, for the fifth time today, turning around to look at him with a smirk. He laughs too, now, knowing he acts absolutely ridiculous. After all, it’s her dad. She loves her dad. And he’s always been popular with his ex- girlfriend’s fathers. No need to act like a little boy now, Travis. 
“Listen, my parents are.. very much open to the idea of me dating again. I know they want me to be happy. And.. trust me, it’ll be fine.” 
He nods, watches her walk towards him. She stops standing right in front of him. He presses his face into her shirt, right above her stomach, giving her a few nervous kisses. 
“Also, I can’t stand the thought of you flying out today. So we definitely need to have a nice lunch altogether before you leave.” she mumbles into his head, kissing his head once. 
He looks back up at her and smiles. He can’t believe he’s flying out to Kansas City again. He can’t believe he’s spent five extra days in this city. Unplanned. The most incredible, beautiful, five days with this woman. Not a single chance, he could ever forget these days in his lifetime. 
“I’ll miss you, sweetie.” he mumbles. She nods, and he can see in her face that it worries her. She doesn’t want to leave their bubble. And neither does he. 
“I’ll miss you, too.” she says, “But it’s just one week.” 
He nods. They can do one week. They’ll be fine. 
“Travy, look. I did this for you!” 
Taylor quickly lets go off Travis, hears her daughter run into her mother’s bedroom. A pencil and a piece of paper in her small hands. Taylor and Travis decided to let some time pass before explaining to Eleanor where they both stand, with each other, in their relationship. She won’t ever fully introduce someone into her life, unless it’s as serious as it could get. And they’ve got time. They’ve got all the time in the world for this big move. 
“What? For me?” Travis looks at the little painting she made him. He’s in true disbelief. Eleanor smiles proudly at her mommy, gets all shy and nods then. 
“This is Olivia and Benjamin and Chauncy and Rambo.” 
Taylor can’t help but laugh a little, looks from Travis back to Eleanor. Her hands land on the little curlyhead. All it took was for Travis to show Eleanor a few pictures and videos of his dogs, and the little girl fell in love. Taylor knows how much she adores animals. Of course, she would fall in love with his doggs in a minute - even without having met them yet. 
“Oh my goodness. Eleanor. This is.. this is beautiful.” he says, completely serious, looking into the little girl’s proud face. 
“Wow, you’re so talented.” he says,pokes her tummy once and she giggles. 
“Can I get a hug?” he asks, and Eleanor falls into the big man’s arms. For a moment, Taylor stands there and feels herself get emotional. She knows this little girl hasn’t had a steady male figure in her life, besides her grandfather and her uncle, for almost a year now. Ever since her separation from Joe, Eleanor has seen her father twice. Phone calls that were promised got less and less. And Taylor could feel Joe not just forget about her, but also his daughter. He’s left her. She can barely let these thoughts enter her mind, but sometimes, they just come creeping back up. She knows that Eleanor knows exactly that her father hasn’t called in months. And Taylor knows that maybe, just maybe, this is why she’s so crazy about Travis. And how can she not be? He’s tall, he’s funny, he makes her laugh and he’s so kind and gentle to her. 
“Thanks so much, girly. I’m honored. This is beautiful. I will hang this one up in my house.” Travis says to Eleanor. Taylor notices Eleanor’s hand landing on Travis’s.
“And I promise you, soon you will meet Rambo and Chauncey. I promise. And I’ll send mommy some videos tonight.” he says, making Eleanor jump up and down a few times. Taylor loves seeing her so excited. She loves this relationship that’s slowly forming between Travis and her. But then again, the more she feels these two connecting, the more she feels herself growing anxious. A deep wave of anxiety, worry, almost panic arising in her chest.
If this won’t work out, then Travis will break two hearts. 
Not just one.
___
“Grandpa!” 
Travis hears Eleanor screaming while running towards the elevator door of the townhouse. He just stands there in the kitchen, taking a deep breath, which he hopes will remain unnoticed. Taylor already laughed at him taking off his earrings before. But he wants to be as presentable as possible for her dad. After all, he’s the man who entered his daughter’s and granddaughter’s life. He wants him to have a good first impression. Whatever that means. Travis slowly makes his way to the door, watches Eleanor jump onto Scott’s arm. The older man laughs a few times, already listening to Eleanor tell him all about her new school. Taylor just looks back to Travis, rolling her eyes at her daughter. He laughs. Eleanor is a very talkative little girl. He absolutely adores it about her. 
“Hi, honey.” Scott says then, hugging his daughter. Travis immediately feels the man’s eyes on him. He smiles at him, not sure how to act. He takes a step closer to him, opening his arms. Immediately, he realizes that Scott gives him a hand shake instead. Slightly embarrassed, he shakes his hand, tries to hide the fact that he expected the welcome to be a bit warmer, instead. 
“Hi, Mr. Swift. It’s so good to meet you. Taylor told me so much about you.”
Scott smiles, barely, and nods. 
“Nice to meet you.” 
Taylor watches the interaction, and gets a little confused. Her father is usually the warmest person she knows, has never not opened his arms for any of Taylor’s friends, or even her crappy ex-boyfriends. She’s not used to her dad being this cold, especially towards someone as open and as warm as Travis. Her parents have always taught her to keep warm people close. And Travis is one of these people. 
Taylor doesn’t say anything, just places her arm on Travis’s shoulder. It’s a small gesture but he knows its her way of assuring him.
“So glad you get to meet Travis, dad.” she mumbles, but Scott doesn’t really react, is suddenly extremely busy hanging up his jacket next to the door.
“Alright, shall we have lunch?” she says then, hoping the mood in the room gets lighter soon. She feels incredibly insecure suddenly. But she hopes Travis won’t feel any of this. He doesn’t deserve to not feel welcomed. After all, he’s been the most incredible person in her life for these past months.
“Sounds good.” Scott says, placing his bag in the dining room. 
“Grandpa, can we watch a movie together?” Eleanor asks her grandfather, already holding his hand again. Scott smiles at her, his hand protectively on her little head. 
“Sweetheart, your mommy and I have a few work meetings after lunch. But tonight, we can watch a movie together. How about that?” 
Eleanor nods, seems to not be very happy about his answer. 
“Should I.. do you need any help in the kitchen?” Travis asks Taylor. She looks at him, and immediately feels his tension. She hates it. 
“Actually, why don’t you and dad just sit down, and Eleanor and me we can get lunch ready huh?” 
Her hand lands on Travis’s back. He gives her that one look that always makes her laugh. But she knows this is good. As soon as her dad and him talk for a bit, the tensions in this penthouse will disappear and her dad will absolutely love him. Just like everyone else in her life so far.
“So, Scott. I heard you were also big on football during high school?” Travis asks, sitting down right in front of him at the dining table. Scott looks at him, no smile in sight. He nods. 
“Yup, I was a running back for five years.” 
“Oh wow.” Travis laughs, obviously relieved that the two have found a topic to discuss. “That’s awesome. Did you ever think about doing it professionally?” 
“I was a Finance major. So football was obviously just a hobby. Nothing more.” 
“Yeah, I get it. For me, was quite the opposite. Sports was always the only thing I was good at, so..” 
Scott doesn’t react. Silence. Travis looks up at him, has run out of things to say. Her dad clearly isn’t interested in a conversation with him. Instead, the seventy year-old man picks up Eleanor, helping her crawl onto the chair next to him. She shows him her little photo book that her mother has crafted with her, and filled with polaroids of herself and her three cats. Travis watches Scott smile at Eleanor. The shift in his mood couldn’t be more obvious. He’s completely in awe with his granddaughter, as he should be. And he couldn’t be less interested in getting to know him. Travis swallows, feels Taylor’s hand on his back. He can see in her face that she feels the same as him, pretends to put on a smile for him. But he can see right through her. There’s no denying that the mood is off. 
“What do you guys want to drink? Water? Sparkling water? Soda?” 
“I’ll just get a water. Thanks, honey.” Scott says. 
“Coke for you, babe?” she asks Travis. Her hand gently caressing his cheek over his beard. 
“I’ll just.. get a water. Thanks, babe.” 
She doesn’t say anything, and Travis wasn’t the only one feeling her father’s eyes on him. Taylor walks back into the kitchen, feels herself slowly get angry. She doesn’t know what has gotten into her dad. But she really hopes he gets it together, soon. 
“Do you usually just drink sodas for lunch, Travis?” 
Taylor places the waterbottle on the countertop with a bang. She’s getting mad, now. One more word and she’s going to loose her patience. Travis has been nothing but kind and polite. Yet her father treats him like a criminal. 
“Well, I train a lot. So I need to get my calories in somehow. I try to stick to diet drinks, but.. well sometimes an ice cold coke is just.. refreshing.” he laughs, a little insecure as he doesn’t get a nod back.
“Sodas are the number one reason for type one diabetes in our country. And that goes especially for children, Travis. I always tell Taylor it’s probably safer to have pesticides in the house than to give Eleanor any of these sugar drinks.” 
Travis doesn’t say anything, just nods. He asks himself if he was irresponsible these past days. After all, he did drink coke in front of Eleanor and even let her try once when Taylor allowed him to. He gets quiet, understands that there’s no arguing with her dad in this. After all, he’s right. 
“Too bad, because all this little girl drinks is coke and fanta and sprite. Oh, and sometimes before bed I add some sugar to her coke. Just makes her more sleepy, I find. The good old sugar crash just does the job.” Taylor says, a hint of anger in her voice. She places the food and water she just brought on top of the hardwood table. Scott just shakes his head, his hand still protectively on Eleanor’s little head. 
“Not funny, Taylor.” 
“Dad, come on. As if you never drink coke for lunch.” 
“Well, I certainly don’t after having cancer.” 
“Here goes the good vibes.” Taylor says, angry, looking at Travis. He doesn’t say anything, and she feels horrible for him. Under the table, she reaches for his hand, squeezes it a few times. 
“Eat up, guys.” she says then, encouraging the two men to start eating. Eleanor reaches for her glass of water, and starts chugging it down. It gets quiet. Horribly quiet. Travis doesn’t speak, and neither does Scott. 
“Grandpa.” Eleanor says, and Taylor has to smirk. Of course her bubbly five-year old would kill these weird vibes today. 
“Yes, honey.” Scott says. 
“Look at my bracelets.” she says, proudly, showing her grandfather her arm full of friendship bracelets. 
“Oh, beauiful. Did you make that all by yourself?” 
“Yes, with my friend Emily.” 
“That’s awesome.” 
“And this one I made with Travy yesterday.” she says proudly, smiling at Travis. He smiles back at her, his head tilting slightly to the side. He always does that whenever Eleanor looks at him with her little eyes. Taylor witnesses the interaction with a smile. 
“Travy?” 
“Yeah, she… well, my nieces always call me Travy so I told Eleanor she can call me..”
“Taylor. Can I speak with you outside for a second.” 
Taylor swallows. For a moment, the entire demeanor around this table has shifted, once again. Travis knows exactly what this is about. He feels guilty all of the sudden. Guilty for having entered Taylor’s life. Guilty for getting closer to Eleanor. He can feel Taylor get more tense. The two adults get up, leave the room to take the stairs up to the rooftop patio. He swallows. He’s definitely lost his appetite now. He just sits there, leans back. A door is closing. Loudly. And then all he hears is yelling. Scott yelling, then Taylor. Then Scott. Then Taylor interrupting him yelling some more. He’s so glad he can’t hear just every word he says. But he knows what this is about. And hearing Taylor yell like this is not something he’s ever witnessed before. 
“Travy..” Eleanor mumbles then, looks at Travis confused. 
“Is mommy fighting with grandpa?” she asks him, has also put down her fork. He can see in her little blue eyes that she’s worried. And Travis feels even worse. He swallows, takes a deep breath, then sighs. 
“Yeah, I think so.” 
Eleanor nods.
“I don’t like it when mommy is mad. Because.. because sometimes, she gets sad, too.” 
“Yeah, I also hated when my mommy was sad.” 
Eleanor nods. 
“Maybe grandpa didn’t like my bracelets.” she says then. Travis can’t help but smile suddenly. He can’t believe this beautiful little girl thinks anything she ever did is the reason her mom and grandpa are fighting. 
“Hey, give me your hand, girly.” he says then, gently. Eleanor looks at him, and Travis reaches for her small hand on top of the table. 
“Listen to me.” he mumbles, “your grandpa absolutely loves your bracelets. Trust me.” 
Eleanor nods slowly. He caresses her tiny hand for a second, so long, until Eleanor seems to be lighting up again. 
“Travy.” 
“Yeah?”
“Promise to send mommy the video of Chauncey and Rambo, okay?” 
He smiles gently, then nods. 
“I promise.” 
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pathetichimbos · 5 months
Text
First Meeting - Part Six
((part five here))
Thomas Hewitt/GN!Reader
tagslist: @goodiesinthecloset21 @shykoolade @strawb3rry-gal @ktssstuff @theclownbaby0 @leah-halliwell92 @lost-in-the-fiction-like-ur-mom @aleracrovn @dreamybxnny @dij-ology @todorokitantrum
---
You've run away from home, hitchhiking around Texas as you come up with your next plan, only to find that life has plans of its own when a simple ride with a group of friends lands you at a lone gas station in Travis County, drawn to a mysterious man most seem to avoid.
---
There isn't much left to do, considering you got most of the prep done earlier in the day, so the only real thing left to do is cook the meat and make the broth.
She takes the lead, putting the meat on to cook and having you grind it down and stir it as she adds several seasonings and the onions to the much too large pot.
It's obvious she's comfortable in the kitchen, confident in her choices with no second guesses, each ingredient she adds done with a precision and assuredness that tells you she's spent most of her life in the kitchen.
She cooks the meat down to a simmer before she begins to add in the broth, carefully working the stew together as you lean on the counter next to the big bowl of vegetables you previously cut.
"...Where'd you learn this recipe?" You ask, watching her work and waiting for your next task to be given.
"My grandmama taught me long time ago, when I was much younger than you." She explains, stirring the broth as she gestures for the bowl of vegetables, "She taught me most of everythin' I know."
You hand her the bowl, "Sounds like a nice lady."
"She was." Luda Mae sighs, adding the vegetables into the pot, "Grab me the cornstartch from that cabinet there."
You go to the cabinet she points to and grab the cornstarch, handing it to her. She drops some in a bowl, adding a bit of water to it, mixing it until it's thick.
"...My Mama never taught me much of anything." You confess, though you're not entirely sure why, "I never knew my grandmama either..."
"My Mama didn't teach me nothin' either." Luda Mae shakes her head, adding a bit of the slurry to the pot, "Didn't care much to."
"I'm guessing she wasn't as nice as your grandmama?"
"She was meaner than a junkyard dog, ran off one day when I was a teenager and I never saw her again. My grandmama always told me she drowned, but I was never too sure if that was literal or not."
"What do you mean?"
Luda Mae sighs again, stirring the large pot, "I can't remember a time she loved her children more than her liqour. She was sooner to have a bottle of whiskey in hand than touch a bottle of milk."
You cross your arms, eyes focused on the pot, "...I can understand what that's like."
You don't say much else after that, idly standing by and helping when she needed it, watching her work and making small comments every now and again.
It doesn't take long for the sound of a car pulling in the driveway to drive you upstairs, back in the solitude of the barren bedroom.
You can hear Hoyt come in hollering for help with carrying the groceries in, the previously quiet house now filled with noise and life.
You sit on the floor again, sighing in relief at the feeling of clean clothes on clean skin, your hair still damp from your shower earlier.
There wasn't a feeling quite like it, and you forgot how amazing it was after going almost two months with one or two half washes in lakes and creeks.
You stand up after a moment, brushing off your legs and shorts, before pulling the covers back on the bed. You cringe, seeing the dirt and grime you left the previous night, not wanting to sleep in it now that you were finally clean. You look around for a moment, spotting the extra blanket Thomas had left on the dresser.
You pull the blanket off completely now, tossing it to the bedroom door, letting it pile against the floor. You grab the fresh blanket, hesitating when you see how dirty the sheets still were.
You hang the blanket on the bedframe, deciding to search the closet to see if Thomas had any extra sheets in his closet.
It wasn't a big closet by any means, with a few clean, never before stained clothes hanging up. You spot the clean, light blue sheets on the top shelf, just barely out of reach.
You stand on your toes, reaching as high as you can, grabbing the edge and pulling. The sheets come tumbling down, knocking against the clothes as you barely catch them.
You hesitate, wondering if you made too much noise, but quickly realize Hoyt was being much too loud below you to notice any noise you made.
You shut the closet door, setting the now messily folded sheets on the dresser before pulling the old ones off the bed. You set them beside the bedroom door with the blanket, opting just to flip your pillowcase inside out since you didn't find any of those.
You spend way too long trying to make the bed, each corner of the fitted sheet fighting against you as you try not to let the bedframe bang against any of the walls.
You drop on the bed when you finish, groaning into the pillow out of pure frustration. Sure, being homeless you could handle, but making a bed? That was apparently out of your skill set.
After a few moments of self pity, you shut off the main light in favor of the floor lamp beside the bed, crawling under the covers and curling into your corner of the bed, continuing to read your book.
It's a couple hours before Thomas comes up, the sun just starting to set as he makes his way in.
You look up from your book, seeing he's already taken the liberty to change into his pajamas.
"Hi." You watch as he sits on the bed, taking notice of the new sheets, "I hope you don't mind, I found them in the closet."
He shakes his head, rubbing his hand over the cotton fabric before climbing under the covers nexts to you.
He looks over, seeing you have the same, old book sitting open in your lap, your hand resting on one of the pages to hold your place.
He reaches over, tapping against the side with a questioning look.
"My book?" You ask, blinking a couple of times before closing it and handing it over to him, "Go ahead, I've read it a million times."
He hesitates, carefully looking over the faded cover, running his calloused fingers over the worn spine in such a gentle manner you'd think he was handling something meaningful.
You rest your head on your knees, watching as he nervously opens the book with the same cautiousness one might treat a wild animal.
His eyebrows furrow as starts to read, finger slowly running under each word slowly and carefully, and you can see the confusion in his brown eyes as he struggles.
You watch him try and reread the same sentence three times before reaching a hand out, gently resting on his wrist, "...Are you having trouble reading?"
He sighs, setting the book down with a shameful nod, too embarrassed to meet your gaze.
"Hey, that's okay. A lot of people can't read all that well, no worries," You carefully pull the book from his grasp, moving closer to his side, "Here, I'll read it to you."
He's caught off guard by your sudden offer, but makes no move to stop you.
You open the book, setting it down so half rests on his leg and the other on yours, your finger tracing under the words as you begin to read.
His eyes follow along carefully, sometimes stopping you to tap at a word when he doesn't know it's meaning, your voice calming as he listens carefully.
By the end of the first chapter, he's relaxed against your side, head resting on your shoulder as you read each word carefully, doing your best to bring the story to life.
You're not sure how long the two of you stay awake, reading the book with the company of the crickets and the moonlight, but the silence of the first floor slowly creeping through the floorboards tells you everyone has gone to bed, and the height of the moon warns you the late hours will soon become early.
You fail to hold back another yawn, blinking wearily as you continue reading, the words beginning to blend together on the worn pages.
You don't particulary remember falling asleep, but the next thing you're consiously aware of is the soft light of the rising sun peaking through the window.
You can feel the bed shift as you groan, curling in on yourself and burying yourself deeper into the warmth of the bed, not ready to face the world quite yet.
You feel yourself begin to drift this time, your mind swirling with the chaotic nonsense of a half-asleep brain trying to dream.
The images dart around, blurry and fast as you try to balance yourself in an unreal situation.
It's dizzying, the heat of your lungs burning a hole through your chest, choking on the air you needed to breathe.
The humidity cages you in, the space around you closing in, your own skin too tight against your body as all too familiar, blood curdling screams swallow any sense of sanity you're supposed to have.
“No, no, please, let us go!”
“God, why me? Why us, God, why–”
“Please, please, let me go, please-”
The bed is hot when you wake, choking on your own air as you sit up, covering your mouth to quiet your coughs.
Your eyes are wide as you stare ahead, keeping your mouth covered through the deep breaths you're taking.
A buzz rests deep in your bones, your mind vibrating with a dissociative tune, and it takes you a few minutes to remember you're actually real.
You let out a shaky sigh, rubbing your face as you regain control of yourself, the nightmare already mostly forgotten as your mind continues waking up.
The sun rests high in the sky, beating down on you through the dusty glass of the window, letting the feeling of the suffocating heat sting your skin.
You take another deep breath, finally registering the sound of voices carrying through the house as you let your head hang in your hands.
The faint smell of an already cooked breakfast tells you it's still morning, but the height of the sun gives way that it's later, perhaps almost noon.
You crawl to the edge of the bed, taking a seat as the hazy fog in your mind begins to clear.
Hoyt's voice still carries through the house, telling you that you'd be stuck in the bedroom for a while longer.
It's strange, hiding from a man in his own home, but Thomas keeps you hidden from him for a reason, and that's enough to keep your footsteps quiet as you stand to make the bed, the shake in your limbs slowly fading away as the panic subsides.
You're not sure if it's the remanents of the forgotten nightmare or the anxiety of being almost trapped in this home, but you can't seem to stop your mind from running wild as you pull the blanket back.
What happens when Hoyt finds out?
That question leads nothing but more anxiety and contemplation, making your head spin.
How long do you plan to stay here? How long do they plan to let you? How long do you have before you're thrown back out to the streets with nothing more than a bag of dirty clothes and an old book to your name?
Your head begins pounding with the migraine you're giving yourself as you pull the sheet taunt against the bed you've slept in for the last two nights.
You swallow, mind drifting back to the first night you stayed here.
"S-T-A-Y."
The memory of Thomas' words tingle against your palm, and it presents you with a new question.
Would they ever let you leave?
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