#Paul's too flirty for his own good

[ellswritings]

A Gift for the Victor

CM Punk (Phil Brooks) x Reader

TW: Lots of flirty tension, no smut but it gets pretty intense at the end, mild choking, swapping saliva, foul language, lmk if I missed anything.

Y/S/N- Your Stage Name

Y/H/T- Your Hometown

Y/W- Your weight

Tags: @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling

(I’m literally weak for this man. I was debating making a smutty part 2. Let me know if that’s something you’re all interested in 🫶🫶)

✧･ﾟ:*ᴵ’ᵐ ᵇᵉᵃᵘ ᵗᶦᶠᵘˡ (ꈍ ꒳ ꈍ✿)*:･ﾟ✧*

WrestleMania Forty.

One of, if not the biggest night of Y/N L/N’s career. She’s facing Iyo Sky to win the Women’s Championship. She had been fighting for this all year. Fight after fight, promo after promo, injury after injury, and she’s finally here. The entire trajectory of her career comes down to this moment. Comes down to the outcome of tonight.

She wasn’t as nervous as she thought she’d be. She worked hard to get here. Took on opponents that most people thought would crush her, but she persevered. Paul Levesque saw something in her. He still does and always will. She’s a fighter, she’s charismatic, the people love her. Over the past few years it’s been a battle between her and Cody Rhodes on who’s the most loveable face. Perhaps down the road there will be a different story lined up for her, but that’s for the future.

Right now, she has a match to win.

It’s Night Two and she’s going on right after Seth Rollins just lost his match to Drew McIntyre. The Scotsman got a bit too cocky for his own good though, the special commentator, CM Punk, beating the crap out of the heavyweight before Damian Priest came out to cash in his Money in the Bank. He stole the title from Drew, leaving everyone in awe.

However, Y/N couldn’t help but admire the way that Punk completely destroyed Drew after what the man did to him at the Royal Rumble. She and Punk have always had an interesting relationship. Flirty comments exchanged here and there, holding each other’s gaze for too long, teasing touches. It was all a part of their charm, their story.

She also really enjoyed getting under his skin, and he felt the same. Whenever they could mess with each other, in or out of the ring, they would.

Phil especially loved walking up behind her before she would go out for a match, whispering something in her ear to make her squirm, and then sauntering off like nothing happened.

Y/N was thrilled when she found out he would also be commentating on her match. They figured it would be best for press since they have such a close relationship, and their chemistry is off the charts.

She would never tell him of her excitement though. It would simply go to his head and give him a bigger ego than he already has. A small smirk covers her lips as she wraps her hands with white masking tape, putting a black X on each one. She knows this will get quite the reaction from him and the audience. Luckily, her cropped leather jacket covers them so it’ll remain a surprise until she takes it off before the match.

Paul Levesque had been nice enough to allow her new gear for this big match. He said it was time for her to get a bit of an upgrade. She wears a black, form-fitting sleeveless top, made from a breathable, flexible material that allows her to move with ease. The top has a high neckline but features cutouts along the sides, hinting at her toned physique without being overly revealing. Across the chest, her logo is subtly embossed in dark metallic silver, catching the light just right when she moves.

Her matching black shorts are a hybrid between tactical gear and athletic wear—snug but flexible, sitting comfortably on her hips with an angled, asymmetrical belt design. The fabric is reinforced with leather-like paneling along the outer thighs, giving her a sleek, armored look without restricting her agility. Subtle silver and deep crimson accents line the seams, adding just a hint of color while keeping the overall aesthetic dark and dangerous.

She wears sturdy knee-high boots with reinforced soles for impact protection. A few silver buckles line the sides of her boots, adding to the dangerous, almost mercenary-like vibe of her gear.

Her jacket—which is probably her favorite aspect of the new outfit—is a lightweight, cropped leather piece with spiked shoulder accents, a deep crimson lining, and her name stitched in jagged, metallic lettering across the back.

She felt dangerous. It really is true when they say dress for what you expect the outcome to be. And as far as Y/N’ concerned, she’s dressed to win.

She cracks her neck as Iyo Sky makes her entrance, the music blaring throughout the arena. She jumps up and down, warming up her body as she gets ready to take what’s rightfully hers. A small smile graces her face as Joe Anoa’i walks up to her briefly, patting her on the back with a small ‘good luck.’

She doesn’t let him leave without hugging him first. He’s still trying to remain in character like the professional he is, but he can’t help but soften under her arms. He’s watched her grow into the star she is, sometimes being the one to train her, so he couldn’t be more proud of how far she’s come.

“C’mon, don’t get all soft,” he tells her, placing his hands on her shoulders. He looks her dead in the eye, “Let’s see that angry face.”

Y/N laughs, “Joe–”

“Nuh uh,” he shakes his head. “Your ass better start mean muggin’ me right now or I ain’t gonna let you go out there.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, feeling silly as she does as he asks. She scrunches her face up the way Josh and Jon showed her she should and Joe nods his head. “There we go. Now you’re ready.”

As if on cue, her entrance music booms through the arena. Roman pushes her forward and she sends him a playful glare before walking out to meet the cheers and screams of her adoring fans. She immediately falls back into character, smirking at the attention. She revels in it, raising her arms up laterally as she spins in a slow circle. Her hips sway to the beat as she struts up to the ring, but not before stopping to interact with a few fans along the way.

She chuckles lowly, patting the face of one of her many overzealous fanboys. She can see the blush form on his cheeks as she walks away with a flirty wink before finishing her journey to the ring. Everyone in the arena screams the lyrics to her song out, making the moment even more special as she climbs up to the second rope, blowing a kiss out to each and every one of them.

She jumped down from her position and walked towards the center of the ring as Alicia Taylor found her place between Y/N and Iyo. The latter had the women’s championship draped over her shoulder, tapping the center plate with a small smirk. It wasn’t cocky, no, it was a challenge. A dare of some sort.

The stadium lights dimmed as Alicia raised the microphone up to her mouth “The following contest is scheduled for one fall…”

The audience screamed in unison.

“…and it is for the WWE Women’s Championship!”

Y/N shook out her hands as Alicia turned to her.

“Introducing first, the challenger… from Y/H/T, weighing in at Y/W, she is ‘The Untouchable’ Y/N L/N!”

The crowd erupted, the sheer volume vibrating through the air. Y/N exhaled slowly through her nose, soaking it in, smirking as she raised her arms and flexed her fingers, her body already buzzing with adrenaline.

The camera cut to the commentary desk, where Michael Cole, Pat McAfee, and CM Punk sat, all watching intently.

“Listen to this ovation for Y/N L/N!” Cole said over the noise.

“Philadelphia is in love with this woman,” Pat added. “I mean, can you blame them? Look at her—she was built for this moment.”

Beside him, Punk leaned back slightly in his chair, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, Yeah,” he drawled out. “She might think she’s all that, but let’s see if she can actually get the job done.”

Y/N’s head turned sharply toward the commentary table, locking eyes with him. Her smirk deepened, a silent, wordless challenge of her own. Punk just raised an eyebrow, as if amused.

Alicia’s voice rang out again.

“And her opponent… from Tokyo, Japan, weighing in at 114 pounds, she is the WWE Women’s Champion… IYO SKY!”

Y/N started bouncing up and down once again as she put herself in the correct headspace for this match. It helped immensely hearing the scattered boos in the crowd that came after Iyo’s name.

Every ounce of training, every second of pain and sacrifice had led to this, and she wasn’t about to waste it. As she reached the steel steps, she grabbed the edges of her custom leather jacket, shrugging it off in one smooth motion before tossing it aside.

The second she did, the camera zoomed in on the thick, white wrist tape wrapped around her hands—bold, black X’s drawn over the knuckles.

The moment wasn’t lost on the commentary team.

Pat McAfee let out an obnoxiously loud laugh. “Ohhh, would you look at that? That is a direct shot at our guy over here!”

Beside him, CM Punk, who had been lounging comfortably in his chair, suddenly sat up straighter. His eyes flickered to the screen, landing on the tape, and for a brief second, something unspoken crossed his face.

Michael Cole chuckled. “Now that’s interesting. What do you think, Punk?”

Punk exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “Cute,” he muttered, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Y/N turned her head ever so slightly in his direction, smirk firmly in place, and tapped her fists together, making sure he saw the X’s clearly. The smirk on Punk’s face faltered for half a second before he scoffed, leaning back again.

“She must think she’s real creative for that one,” Punk snarks, but Y/N picked up on his attitude all the way from the ring.

She grinned. “Glad you approve, old man,” she mouths.

Pat snorted. “Oh, she’s good.”

Punk rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m not impressed yet.”

The bell rang.

Y/N barely had time to react before Iyo Sky came flying at her, a devastating roundhouse kick aimed directly for her head. She ducked just in time, the force of it whipping past her ear, and immediately retaliated with a stiff elbow to Iyo’s ribs. The champion staggered back but recovered quickly, using the ropes to propel herself forward before slamming into Y/N with a handspring back elbow. The move connected cleanly, knocking Y/N back against the ropes, but she used the momentum to bounce off and hit Iyo with a running knee to the face.

The match quickly devolved into a brutal back-and-forth war. Every time Y/N gained an advantage, Iyo countered, the champion’s speed and agility making her nearly impossible to keep down. The strikes were stiff, each kick and punch landing with precision, the sound of flesh meeting flesh ringing throughout the stadium. Y/N could feel the welts forming on her ribs from Iyo’s brutal kicks, but she pushed forward, feeding off the energy of the crowd.

“Come on, L/N!” Punk’s voice cut through the commentary. “You gotta be faster than that!”

Cole chuckled. “A little tough love from Punk tonight?”

“Tough love?” Pat laughed. “The man sounds like a disappointed dad.”

Punk scoffed, arms crossed. “I just call it like I see it.”

Back in the ring, Y/N managed to catch Iyo mid-air as she attempted a crossbody, using her strength to hoist the champion up and slam her into the mat with a gut-wrench suplex. Iyo arched off the canvas, clutching her lower back, giving Y/N the opening to climb the ropes.

“She’s going high-risk!” Cole called.

Punk let out a breath. “Better not miss.”

As if hearing him, Y/N turned her head slightly toward the commentary table, locking eyes with him before blowing an exaggerated kiss in his direction.

The crowd reacted immediately, laughter rippling through the audience, and Pat lost it. “Oh my God! She’s making it her personal mission to mess with you!”

Punk’s face remained neutral, but the slight twitch in his jaw gave him away. “Focus on the match, sweetheart,” he muttered under his breath, though the mic still picked it up.

And she did.

All of her attention went back to Iyo as she landed a perfect cross-body. Unfortunately, it hadn’t tired Iyo as much as Y/N had hoped it would, but she didn’t give up. She never would. Not when the title is practically in her grasp.

The match itself had been brutal, both women leaving everything they had in the ring. However, the next fifteen minutes of it had to have been the worst. The air inside Lincoln Financial Field was thick with anticipation, the crowd hanging onto every move, every counter, every near fall. Y/N’s body ached, her ribs screaming from the relentless kicks Iyo had delivered, but she pushed forward, feeding off the electric energy around her.

Iyo, for all her skill and championship experience, was growing frustrated. Y/N had withstood everything—the rapid-fire strikes, the high-flying assaults, the punishing submissions. And now, as the match neared its climax, Iyo was beginning to make mistakes.

The champion was perched on the top rope, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, eyes narrowed as she calculated her next move. Y/N was dazed, clutching her ribs, struggling to push herself to her feet. Iyo saw her opportunity.

With a determined yell, she launched herself off the turnbuckle, twisting mid-air for a moonsault.

It was mistimed.

Y/N had staggered to her feet just a fraction of a second too soon, her head still down as Iyo’s knee connected—hard—against her brow instead of the planned impact to her chest. The sound of bone hitting bone was sickening, an audible crack that made the entire arena wince.

Y/N dropped like a stone.

The referee immediately knelt beside her, checking for movement, but it was the blood—thick and dark—already dripping down her face that sent a ripple of unease through the crowd.

And through Punk.

At the commentary table, he had been leaning back, arms crossed, the usual smirk on his face as he quipped about the match. But the moment that knee landed, his entire body tensed. His smirk vanished. His hands slammed against the table as he pushed himself to his feet, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.

For a split second, he wasn’t CM Punk, the commentator.

He was Phil Brooks, the man who had spent his entire career in this business, who had seen firsthand what a misplaced knee like that could do.

“She’s hurt,” he said, voice lower than before, tighter.

Pat McAfee blinked, clearly taken aback by the sudden shift in him. “Whoa, hey, man—where are you—?”

Punk had already taken a step forward, instinct screaming at him to move, to get to the ring, to do something. His fingers flexed at his sides, breathing shallow as he locked onto Y/N’s unmoving form.

Then, as quickly as he’d reacted, he caught himself.

Realized where he was.

What he was doing.

His jaw clenched, and slowly, rigidly, he forced himself to sit back down. But his posture was different now—leaned forward, elbows on the desk, one hand anxiously rubbing his jaw as his eyes never left the ring.

“She’s bleeding pretty bad,” Cole noted, though his attention had drifted toward Punk now, clearly sensing the change.

Pat, of course, couldn’t help himself. “Man, I swear, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Punk here was about to—what? Jump in there and save her?”

Punk shot him a glare. “Shut up, Pat.”

Pat laughed. “I’m just saying! Look at you! Sitting here all stiff, like you’re about to sprint down the ramp any second!”

Punk exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head as he tried to settle back into his usual nonchalance. “She’s fine,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed him. They were locked on Y/N, watching as she blinked rapidly, trying to clear the blood that was beginning to seep down the side of her face.

Back in the ring, the referee hesitated, momentarily unsure if he should call for medical personnel, but Y/N pushed his hands away.

"I'm good," she gritted out.

Her vision was hazy, the pain sharp and unrelenting, but the last thing she was going to do was let this end with her lying on the mat, bleeding out.

Punk leaned in slightly at the sound of her voice, his shoulders still tight.

“Come on, Y/N…” he muttered under his breath, as if willing her to snap out of it.

Iyo hesitated, realizing her mistake now, but it was too late to take it back. And Y/N—still dazed, still blinking through the blood—was already pushing to her feet.

The sight of her standing, wiping the blood from her eye with the back of her hand, made the crowd erupt.

Punk let out a slow breath, watching as she squared her shoulders, forcing herself back into the fight despite the crimson streaks running down her face. The sight of it—the determination, the fire—made something flicker in his expression.

Cole chuckled, side-eyeing him. “You can admit it, you know. You’re impressed.”

Punk scoffed, but it was weaker than before. “She still has to win first.”

Pat grinned. “Oh, come on. You were two seconds away from running down there to help her! I’ve never seen you move that fast in my life.”

Punk ignored him.

Back in the ring, Y/N caught Iyo off guard, ducking under a clothesline before hoisting her onto her shoulders in one swift motion. The crowd roared, the energy surging to its peak as she took a single step forward and then drove Iyo into the mat with her finisher.

The ring shook from the impact.

Punk straightened in his seat, fingers twitching slightly as he watched the ref drop to count.

One… Two… Three.

The bell rang.

A moment of silence passed before the realization hit.

She won.

The crowd exploded, the sound deafening as Y/N collapsed to her knees, clutching the championship to her chest.

And then, slowly, blood still dripping down her face, she turned toward the commentary table.

Her gaze locked onto Punk’s.

Tears were brimming at the corner of her eyes as she held her title over her shoulder proudly. She stood up, woozy and shaky as blood continued to trickle down her forehead, but her smugness never faded. The smirk was slow, knowing, as she tapped the title against the X’s on her hands.

Punk exhaled through his nose, shaking his head, but he didn’t look away.

Pat leaned in, grinning wildly. “You okay over there, bud?”

Cole smirked. “Go on, Punk. Just say it.”

Punk rubbed his jaw, leaning back in his chair, and after a long pause, muttered, “She did alright.”

Pat snorted. “You are so full of it.”

But Punk said nothing.

Instead, as the cameras focused on Y/N standing tall, bloodied but victorious, the faintest ghost of a smile flickered across his lips.

That’s when a microphone is handed to the newest champion and it makes everyone in the stadium cry out loudly as she raises it to her lips. “How we feeling tonight, Philly?”

Everyone screams once again making the new champion nod enthusiastically. She didn’t know if it was the high she was on from her win, or the blood loss, but she was no longer concerned about how professional she appeared.

“Yeah, me too!” She calls out with a small chuckle. “Y’know I’ve gotta say I couldn’t have done it without all of you cheering me on like that.” The crowd once again goes ballistic at her kind words. “I also couldn’t have done it without the amazing Paul Levesque giving me the chance to achieve greatness, and for that I am so grateful.” She spins on her heel, walking slowly towards the edge of the ring that’s closest to the announcer’s table. “But there is one person in particular I owe a special thanks to…”

She leans on the top rope, looking over at Punk with the biggest shit-eating grin she’s ever sported. He can’t help but lean back in his chair, eyes bemused as he scoffs softly at her behavior. Blood still oozes down her face, but she couldn’t seem to care less.

“The man who pisses me off more than anyone else in the locker room. Who unfortunately taught me half of my move set, mostly because he’s ancient,” she mumbles the last part but the audience roars with laughter. “The best in the world… CM Punk.”

As the crowd begins to chant his name, Punk shakes his head at her antics. He watches as the woman makes her way out of the ring and walks over towards his side of the table. Her chest is heaving as she continues to try and replenish the oxygen her lungs have lost over the last half hour in the ring.

She looks good, he notes to himself. The new gear she’s sporting fits her body perfectly. It shows off her stage persona perfectly, beautiful but deadly. His eyes trail over her hands, growing slightly fond of the fact she’s rocking his signature look. If anyone else were to have done that, he might’ve lost his mind on the spot, but with her, it’s different.

“Without his incessant nagging, I wouldn’t be here today,” she says into the mic, stopping directly in front of him, never breaking eye contact.

She’s currently towering over him as he’s still sitting in his designated seat. But without warning, he stands from his spot, silently moving forward and wrapping his one good arm around her in a tight hug. Audible coos and whistles are heard throughout the arena as Punk leans forward to speak into her mic.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he tells her. “You worked hard for it. Paid your dues.”

The crowd was already losing their minds over the embrace—CM Punk, the surly, hard-nosed veteran, openly showing affection? That alone was shocking enough. But as Y/N felt the warmth of his body pressed against hers, the steady rise and fall of his chest, something in her buzzed with exhilaration. Maybe it was the fact he was trying so hard to remain in character, or maybe it’s because she was tired of this cat and mouse game they became so good at playing.

She pulled back slightly, just enough to catch the flicker of something in his eyes before he masked it. He was playing the role, staying in character, but she saw it—a crack in the armor. A slip.

A slow smirk curled at her lips as she tilted her head. “Y’know, Punk,” she drawled, deliberately stepping closer, toeing the line of personal space as she brought the mic back up between them. “I was thinking… since we’re so close and all… how about a gift for the victor?”

His expression didn’t change—at least, not outwardly. But she caught it. The subtle way his jaw tensed. The way his tongue darted out to wet his lips like he was considering something. The way his fingers twitched at his sides like he had to physically restrain himself from reacting too quickly.

Still, he played his part. He always did.

Punk should’ve seen it coming. Should have.

But the moment Y/N took that deliberate step closer, eyes gleaming with something far too playful, far too dangerous, he knew he’d walked right into her trap.

His lips pressed into a firm line as she invaded his space, the warmth of her body nearly brushing against his. He should move—he needs to move—but he doesn’t. He just watches her, that smug little smirk playing at her lips, the kind that made his fingers twitch with the urge to do something drastic.

Like kiss it off her.

No. No, he absolutely was not thinking that.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself to roll his shoulders like he wasn’t already bracing for impact. “What did you have in mind?” His voice was smooth, controlled—CM Punk. But there was an edge to it, an almost imperceptible waver that Y/N caught immediately.

She knew exactly what she was doing to him.

Y/N hummed, tapping her fingers against the mic as if she were thinking. She tilted her head, feigning innocence as her gaze dropped to his lips for just a second—a split second—before flicking back up to his eyes.

“Oh, you know…”

And then—she kissed him.

The moment her lips pressed against his, CM Punk ceased to exist. There was no more character to hide behind. Just Phil Brooks.

A deafening roar swept through the stadium, fans screaming, chanting, reacting with sheer disbelief at what they were witnessing. The cameras caught it all—CM Punk, the man who prided himself on being untouchable, who never ever strayed from his carefully controlled image—being kissed, in front of thousands, by the newly crowned champion.

Phil. Was. Stunned.

For the first few seconds, he didn’t even move. Didn’t even process it. He had anticipated her usual antics—teasing, pushing his buttons, making him squirm—but this? This wasn’t scripted. This wasn’t supposed to happen, this wasn’t supposed to happen—but then her hand curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him just enough to make his knees buckle slightly, and suddenly, he was forgetting why he was supposed to stop this at all.

Her lips were soft but commanding, determined, and goddammit, he should push her away, should pull back and scowl and play it off like she hadn’t just sent a bolt of electricity down his spine.

But he didn’t.

For a second—just a second—his hand twitched at his side, instinct screaming at him to cup the back of her neck, to deepen the kiss just enough to make her regret thinking she had the upper hand here.

But then she was gone.

The absence of her warmth made his body lurch forward slightly before his brain caught up, before the noise of the arena came crashing back down around him.

She turned on her heel, already stepping back toward the ring as she raised the mic again, her voice ringing through the chaos.

“See you later, old man.”

The crowd was losing their minds.

Pat McAfee was practically feral beside him. “OH. MY. GOD. SHE DID IT! Y/N L/N JUST KISSED CM PUNK ON LIVE TELEVISION! WHAT UNIVERSE ARE WE IN?!”

Michael Cole was just as incredulous. He was barely able to hold himself together as he laughed loudly, “I– Punk? Any comment? Anything at all?”

He grabbed his headset, sliding it back on with forced nonchalance. “Shut up, Pat.”

Pat cackled. “OH, HE’S FLUSTERED! HE’S SO FLUSTERED! HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO RIGHT NOW!”

Cole grinned. “Are we witnessing the beginning of a WWE power couple?”

Punk pinched the bridge of his nose. “I swear to god, both of you—”

But it didn’t matter.

The damage was done. The moment was out there, in front of thousands. There was no walking this back.

His eyes were locked on Y/N as she stood at the top of the ramp, championship over her shoulder, owning the moment like she’d planned it all along. She looked so damn proud of herself.

And the worst part?

He couldn’t even be mad.

The next few days were nothing short of exhausting. He hadn’t had a quiet moment since what happened at the main event. Whether it was questions from his coworkers, his bosses, or the public, it was never ending. He, of course, handled it with the utmost professionalism, never breaking character, but it was starting to irritate him the way Y/N was handling it with such ease. Like she hadn’t completely blown up both of their careers. Not in a bad way, but the scandal in itself was enough to keep all attention on them for the next few months. Yet she acted like she didn’t have a care in the world.

She easily deflected probing questions and didn’t appear flustered by the event at all. It was infuriating. His jaw ticked as he watched her from the other side of the Gorilla, laughing at something Dominick Mysterio said. Once again, acting as if nothing happened. He watched as the younger male wrestler’s eyes flicked over to him and Phil could only assume the next question that came out of his mouth was about the kiss.

Once again, she deflects the question without much effort. Y/N simply bat her eyelashes at the boy, placing her hands on his chest as if she were fixing his gear before saying something slightly flirty and walking off. Her strategy changed with everyone who asked, and it worked every time.

His feet start moving before his mind can even register what he’s doing. Y/n rounds the corner to no doubt head out to your trailer, but he manages to grab her wrist before she can make it out. Her eyes widen in surprise, but they quickly calm when she realizes it’s him.

“Hey stranger,” she grins cheekily. She made no effort to pull away from his grasp, instead shifting her weight slightly, subtly closing the distance between them.

Phil’s eyes narrowed. “That’s all you have to say?”

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “What else am I supposed to say?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, voice low, sharp, “maybe something about how you’ve spent the last few days dodging every question about what the hell you were thinking?”

Y/N’s lips twitched, like she was fighting the urge to laugh. “You’re so dramatic.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his irritation flaring. “You blindsided me. In front of the entire world. And now, you’re walking around like you didn’t just blow up both of our careers.”

She hummed, tapping a finger against her chin. “That’s funny… last I checked, the crowd seemed to love it. I mean, the reaction was insane. Even the higher-ups don’t seem to mind all that much.”

“That’s not the point.”

She arched a brow. “Then what is the point, Phil?”

His grip on her wrist loosened, but he didn’t let go. “The point is that you—” He huffed, shaking his head slightly. “You’re just—”

Y/N’s smirk widened. “Oh, come on, old man. Spit it out.”

His jaw ticked. She was enjoying this way too much.

And worse? He knew exactly what she was doing.

She was trying to get under his skin. Trying to make him crack first.

But Phil Brooks wasn’t so easily unraveled.

He took a deliberate step closer, forcing her back until she was against the cold concrete wall. His hand finally released her wrist, but before she could so much as breathe another teasing remark, his palms pressed flat against the wall on either side of her head, caging her in.

Y/N’s eyes flickered with amusement—but also something else. Something darker.

She licked her lips. “You know you want to do it again.”

Phil’s brows lifted. “Do what again?”

She didn’t falter. Didn’t waver. Instead, she reached up, trailing a single finger along the collar of his hoodie. “Kiss me.”

His lips pressed into a firm line, his heartbeat betraying his otherwise composed exterior.

“Admit it,” she murmured. “You’ve been thinking about it.”

He scoffed. “I’ve been thinking about wringing your neck, does that count?”

She laughed, soft and sultry, before tilting her head slightly, eyes locked onto his with laser focus. “Come on, Phil. The people want us together. I want you. And we both know you want me.” She leaned up, voice a whisper against his lips. “So what’s stopping you?”

Silence.

For a moment, Y/N thought she had won.

That she’d finally broken him.

Then, he moved.

Leaning in—so, so close—until their noses brushed, until she could feel his breath against her lips.

But just as she started to close the distance—

He smirked. And pulled back.

Y/N blinked, stunned, her lips parting slightly as she tried to process what just happened.

Phil tilted his head, eyes dark, mocking. “You really thought that was gonna work, huh?”

She scowled, irritation flickering across her face for the first time all night.

He chuckled, low and dangerous, before ducking down just slightly, lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

“You got lucky when you caught me off guard at Mania,” he murmured, voice a velvety rasp that sent a shiver down her spine. “But it’s not gonna happen again.”

Then—because he was an asshole—his lips barely ghosted along her jaw, just enough to make her shudder. His hand skimmed her waist, squeezing just once, before he pulled away completely.

Y/N swallowed, hard, struggling to keep her expression neutral as she forced herself to meet his gaze again.

Phil smirked. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that to impress me, sweetheart.”

Then—just as calmly as he’d cornered her—he turned and walked off.

Leaving her there. Flustered. And seething.

“Touché…” Y/N grumbles as she watches him walk off, not bothering to hide the fact she checks out his ass due to the form fitting jeans he’s wearing.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N had slowly been losing her control over her situation with Phil. Originally, she held him in the palm of her hand, she was the one making him flustered, but now it seems he was reclaiming some of that power. She finds herself looking for him in any crowd they’re in and he knows it. He smirks when he finds her eyes searching for him, sending her flirty winks, whispering filthy things in her ear when she’s least expecting.

He’s letting her know that she never truly was the one with the upper hand. He just needed time to adjust and make a game plan, and boy he did.

She remembers one particular instance where she was talking to Damian Priest backstage when her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She pulled it out, giggling at the joke Damian made, but it was short lived as the breath was stolen from Y/N’s lungs.

Oh.

The image staring back at her was sinful.

Phil. Fresh out of the shower.

A towel hung dangerously low on his hips, water still beading down his sculpted torso. One hand was running through his damp hair, pushing it back, while the other held his phone in the mirror. His expression? A cocky smirk, one that screamed I know exactly what I’m doing to you.

And as if the photo itself wasn’t bad enough, the caption?

“Hope you’re staying focused, sweetheart. See you at the interview. ;)”

Y/N’s face ignited.

Her grip tightened around her phone as she struggled to process the absolute audacity of this man.

She must’ve gone silent for too long because Damian furrowed his brows, concern flashing across his face.

“Hey, you good?” he asked, nudging her lightly. “You just turned, like… bright red. Do you have a fever or something?”

Y/N let out a choked sound, hastily locking her phone and shoving it back into her pocket. “I—I’m fine. Just—uh—hot in here.”

Damian raised a brow, clearly not buying it, but before he could press further, one of the producers walked by and called out, “Y/N! You’re on in an hour for your interview. Punk’s already getting mic’d up.”

Y/N swallowed hard.

Of course he was.

Damian patted her back. “Good luck with that. You look like you need it.”

She glared at him before storming off toward the interview set, her mind still short-circuiting from the damn picture.

The interview was with Cathy Kelley, who greeted them both with a bright smile as they settled into their seats. Y/N knew she was supposed to be professional—that was literally her job—but sitting next to Phil, who was clearly feeling himself today, was making it impossible to focus.

He was too close, his body angled toward her, his scent still faintly fresh from whatever expensive body wash he used.

Kelley beamed as she turned to the camera, perfectly composed and ready to dig into the interview fans had been dying to see. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here with two of the most talked-about names in WWE right now—CM Punk and Y/S/N.”

Y/N barely managed a smile, still recovering from the photo Phil had sent her. She’d tried to push it out of her mind, but the smug look on his face told her he knew exactly how much he’d rattled her.

“Thanks for having us, Cathy,” Phil said smoothly, his voice dangerously casual.

Y/N forced herself to focus, nodding along. “Yeah, should be fun.”

Phil’s hand slid onto her thigh.

Y/N tensed, resisting the urge to slap it away.

Cathy, oblivious to the slow psychological breakdown Y/N was currently experiencing, launched into her first question.

“So, Punk, you made your big return last year, and a lot of people wondered if you’d still be able to keep up with the current roster. But after the fight you put up in the Royal Rumble match, I think it’s safe to say you haven’t lost a step. How do you feel about your performance?”

Phil pretended to think about it, shifting slightly so his fingers inched higher on Y/N’s thigh. “You know, Cathy, I think I did alright. Besides tearing my tricep, I’d say I held my own. I mean, I’m me. It’s not really a surprise, is it?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh my God.”

Phil grins, squeezing her thigh out of spite which makes her gasp slightly. She feels a chill run down her spine as he looks completely unbothered. “What? You disagree, sweetheart?”

Cathy laughed. “Y/N, what was it like for you, being part of WrestleMania? And not only that, but winning the Women’s Championship?”

Y/N opened her mouth—only for Phil’s hand to start massaging her thigh ever so slightly, working its way inward.

She barely stopped herself from choking.

“I—it was—uh—” She cleared her throat. “It was amazing. One of the best moments of my career, for sure. I’m really grateful that I was presented with the opportunity.”

Phil hummed in agreement, tapping his fingers against her leg. “Definitely one of the biggest moments.”

Y/N refused to look at him.

Cathy moved on. “Punk, since coming back, you’ve had some… let’s say, heated interactions with some of the younger talent. Guys like Seth Rollins and Cody Rhodes haven’t exactly been welcoming. Any thoughts on that?”

Phil shrugged. “Look, I don’t expect everyone to throw a party just because I’m back. Some of these guys have been carrying the company for years, and suddenly, I show up and steal the spotlight. But hey—” He smirked. “If they don’t like it, they can try to do something about it.”

Y/N muttered, “Cocky bastard.”

Phil heard her.

And instead of ignoring it, he leaned in just enough for his breath to tickle her ear.

“You like it, though, don’t you?” he whispered.

Y/N nearly jumped out of her damn seat.

Cathy, unaware of the absolute war happening beside her, chuckled. “Well, speaking of heated interactions…” She turned her attention fully to them. “We can’t ignore the elephant in the room. The moment at WrestleMania. The kiss.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped.

Cathy smiled knowingly. “The fans have been going wild, and the speculation is at an all-time high. So, I have to ask…” She turned to them expectantly. “What exactly is going on between you two?”

Y/N braced herself, ready to deflect, when—

Phil beat her to it.

“Yeah, Y/N,” he said, voice thick with mock innocence. “What are your thoughts?”

You smug, evil little—

Y/N shot him a look that could kill.

Phil? He just smirked, his fingers idly tracing circles against her thigh, his expression pure amusement as he watched her flounder.

Cathy raised a brow, intrigued. “So, there is something going on?”

Y/N forced a tight-lipped smile. “I think… I think what happened at Mania was—”

Phil’s hand slid higher.

Y/N lost her train of thought entirely.

Cathy tilted her head, waiting for her to finish, but Y/N’s brain had short-circuited.

Phil, meanwhile, just relaxed, completely at ease, knowing damn well she was falling apart.

Y/N’s hands clenched into fists.

He was enjoying this.

Finally, she somehow managed to bullshit her way through a vague answer about the unpredictability of wrestling and keeping the fans entertained.

Cathy nodded, sensing she wouldn’t get a real answer, but her amused expression said it all. “Well, whatever’s going on, I think I speak for everyone when I say we’ll be watching closely.”

The interview ended, and the second the cameras cut, Y/N grabbed Phil’s wrist and yanked him toward the nearest empty hallway.

He let her, still smirking.

Once they were alone, she whirled on him, shoving his shoulder hard. “What the hell was that?”

Phil barely stumbled, still annoyingly amused as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What was what?”

Y/N let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, stepping closer, her frustration boiling over. “Oh, don’t you dare. You were messing with me the entire interview!”

Phil tilted his head like he was actually considering her words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Y/N let out a growl of frustration before shoving him again, her hands flat against his chest. “Bullshit, Phil! You—” She gestured wildly, completely losing it. “You—your hand, your voice, that stupid smirk, and then the ‘Yeah, Y/N, what are your thoughts?’ Like you didn’t just spend the last ten minutes scrambling my brain!”

Phil barely reacted, just staring down at her like she was the most entertaining thing he’d ever seen.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart.” His voice was mocking, his lips twitching with a lazy grin. “Did I distract you?”

She groaned, shoving him again. “You were being a little—”

“Careful,” he warned, low and teasing, as he caught her wrists.

But Y/N didn’t care. She ripped her hands away, pacing as she fought the urge to scream. “You’re playing hard to get now? Now?! After everything?” She turned back to him, rage and frustration and something dangerously close to desire burning in her expression.

Phil just leaned back against the wall, completely unfazed.

And that made her snap.

She grabbed the front of his hoodie and yanked him forward, her teeth gritted. “You think this is funny?”

His grin widened.

“Oh, I think it’s adorable.”

Y/N pushed him again, but Phil caught her easily, his hands gripping her waist as he let out a low chuckle. “You thought you could outplay me, princess?” He clicked his tongue. “How cute.”

Y/N’s breathing was heavy, her hands shaking as she glared up at him, her face inches from his. “You are such an—”

He cut her off.

Not with words.

With his hand, pressing firmly over her mouth.

Her eyes widened, a muffled sound escaping.

“Stop talking,” he murmured, his voice dropping into something dark and smooth.

Y/N’s breath hitched as his fingers slid down, palm curling around her throat. Not tight—just there, warm and commanding, his thumb brushing against her pulse point, feeling how fast it raced.

Then, finally—

He kissed her.

It was hot, consuming, and completely overwhelming. His lips moved against hers with absolute confidence, taking what he knew she’d been begging for. His fingers tightened, his other hand gripping her hip, pulling her flush against him.

Y/N melted for half a second—then fought back, her hands fisting in his hoodie as she bit his lip, just to be a brat.

Phil let out a low groan, then snapped.

He pressed her hard against the wall, his grip on her tightening as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing hers, swallowing the smallest whimper she let out.

By the time he pulled back, Y/N was breathless, her knees weak, her entire brain fried.

Phil smirked, his thumb brushing over her jaw. “I’m taking you to dinner tonight. Be ready by six.”

He goes to walk off with that same smug grin, but Y/N catches him again. He turns around, raising a questioning eyebrow as he watches her usually bright (e/c) darken. She yanks his arm back towards her before slamming her lips into his again. His hands move back down to her waist, squeezing the soft flesh there as her hands shoot up into his hair, lightly tugging at the strands which makes him groan into her lips.

The two of them slowly pull apart, a small strand of saliva connecting them, but Y/N raises her finger up, breaking the string. Phil watches as she sucks her thumb into her mouth, cleaning their shared spit off her finger. He feels his jeans tighten uncomfortably as Y/N leans up to whisper in his ear.

“Only if you promise to have me for dessert.”

[the-maid-of-witchwood]

Drop your headcanons for Pete and his ships, I dare you

*cracks knuckles*

Solo headcanons:

Lives at home but does visit and stay with Ted from time to time

Also is allowed to use Ted’s place for hangouts (usually plans them for when he knows Ted won’t be home though)

Their extended family all live in Poland and they visit every summer, every second Christmas

He knows Polish

Wants to be more in touch with his heritage

Their paternal grandparents live beside a goat farm and Ted always climbs the fence to terrorise them. One of Pete’s earliest memories is one of said goats beating the shit out of Ted for it

In turn, he’s not particularly fond of goats. Not scared per se, but would rather avoid them

His mom put him in a ton of after school activities in the hopes he would make friends: tap, musical theatre, chess, cooking, computing, ballroom and Latin dancing, ice skating, hiking, birdwatching, golf and first aid training

Subsequently, has some really weird skills and knowledge

Hot chocolate is one of the only drinks he’ll have

He isn’t as fussy with his food, but drinks? Yeah

Definitely had one of those at home magic kits as a child

Has been in the school shows but just ensemble or running the sound board

Tries to get Ruth to join him in the ensemble but she always chickens out before sign ups last minute

Has beef with Kevin (Joey’s drama student) for no particular reason, he just thinks Kevin’s an idiot

Did think about becoming a tutor but after one too many horror stories from PJ, he talked himself out of it

He and Alice are childhood friends because of Bill and Ted

They use to be livid if they went into CCRP for something and the other wasn’t there to play/annoy Paul with

Decided he didn’t like Grace after she got 10/10 on a spelling test in first grade and he didn’t. He likes her now but clearly is still a little bitter about it

A huge movie geek

Both he and Richie are aggressively fighting for top marks in their film studies class

Is really good at video games

Ted got him into them and a lot of their brotherly bonding (and rivalry) comes from that

His mom use to cut his hair, it wasn’t good. Ted use to bully him for it

He plays the clarinet and is in the school orchestra because he wasn’t cool enough to be in the marching band

Favourite subject is chemistry

And wants to pursue something in that field

Plans to go to university somewhere outside of the US, probably through a scholarship

Has always been really tall

First crush was Zoey, following her serving him at Beanie’s

Ironically, everyone who works at Beanie’s (save Nora) completely hates him and shit talks him during their breaks

He can sew and makes a lot of his own clothes - matching suspenders, bow ties, jumpers and socks

Is in the school’s debate and chess clubs

Runs a DND night every month for the friend group, he usually ends up as the DM because nobody else can do it. Richie did it once and the game fell to shambles

Told everyone he was watching Bridgerton for the historical aspects as a history buff when he was actually watching for the spicy scenes - he already knew the show was historically inaccurate

Not wanting to be considered a sleaze like Ted, he ended up making himself sound very prudish in middle school and hasn’t been able to live it down

Was in the running for senior class president until Max made him step down because he didn’t want a nerd in power

Ultimately wins valedictorian

Lautski:

Pete fell first, Steph fell harder

Steph was lowkey a little disappointed when he stopped wearing the suspenders because she wanted to flick them again, definitely not as an excuse to get closer

Absolutely puts on Pete’s glasses and clothes (as best she can, probably doesn’t button up) to mock him, seductively

She’s saved as “Persephone” on his phone - similar to Stephanie, the use of “phone” and Steph is a goddess to him

She later uses the name for a DND character

He spends hours working on flirty lines for her but completely stutters through them or they’re really dorky and a little cringey, Steph still appreciates the effort

Makes online flashcards for Steph

Steph has tried and failed to play his clarinet

Do a lot of virtual dates through video call. They like spending time together but obviously can’t see each other in person 24/7, so this is the solution

He’s just there as she puts on her makeup or she’s in the background while he makes dinner

Pete’s definitely fallen asleep with the call still going

They are both night owls but Steph is a lot worse/stays up stupidly late

Pete knows Steph’s favourite makeup products/brands and has every little detail memorised about them. He knows the exact mascara type, the serial number to that red lipstick, the tip of the brush like the back to his hand

They have never had a successful date at Pasqualli’s; something always goes wrong

They also get banned eventually because Steph beat up one of the waiters (Ethan) because he use to bully Pete

Miss Retro’s is their go to

Go to sports games and competitions sarcastically together

They love road trips

Will just drive around Hatchetfield aimlessly for fun

He tries teaching Steph to dance… she stands on his toes a lot

But he loves her and still asks her to dance again and again

Steph can’t kiss Pete without standing on her tiptoes or wearing heels unless he’s bending down

Really want to do karaoke together but their music tastes don’t really overlap so it always ends horribly for someone

After their study dates, Pete always finds lipstick kisses in his notebooks but has never seen or caught Steph doing it, so is always totally thrown and confused. He was with her the entire time, how the fuck did she—

Lautskity:

Pete gets both his girlfriends shoes

More sensible ones for Steph because “you can’t wear heeled boots all the time, you’re gonna break your ankle, Stephanie” and (small) heels for Grace at prom because her parents have never let her wear anything but flats; she deserves nice shoes

She still isn’t tall enough to kiss her partners in them

As much as Pete loves handling Grace’s hair, he’s scared to touch Steph’s - it’s handled by the best, most expensive hairdressers in Hatchetfield or Steph herself, he’s not risking it

Mr Houston and Miss Mulberry go out of their way to fluster them a little about their relationship, not that it works on Steph but the other two? Screwed

They really wanna do group costumes but there are not enough poly ones out there that are well known

Steph goes to the school shows and orchestra performances for them, but doesn’t get the atmosphere at all and treats it like a concert. Has to be told to sit down and put her phone away

All cuddled up together during movie nights

Movie nights, featuring the talk over (historical inaccuracies, problems and opinions) of Pete and Grace, and the unrelated audio from whatever Steph’s watching on her phone

Grace is an early bird, big morning person, and definitely has surprised her partners to breakfast in bed on more than one occasion

They keep meaning to pay her back for it but haven’t managed to wake up before her yet (without waking her in the process, e.g. alarm clock)

Steph has a lot of photos on her phone, half are solely of Pete and Grace. She lets them walk ahead and gets really aesthetic shots without their knowledge - and then are like “wait, where did you get this lockscreen from?”

They don’t really like having their photo taken whereas Steph does

Steph likes being in the middle. She needs them either side. She’s the most physical of the three and, though she won’t admit it, gets a little anxious if they aren’t nearby for long periods of time

She’s also the clingiest

Grace is usually on her right and Pete on the left

(Yes, that’s how they sit in the Summoning, what of it?)

The amount of times Pete and Grace see each other with red marks and think the other has been hurt, only to get closer and realise it’s just Steph’s smeared lipstick is insane

Steph herself has done it at this point

They never really told anyone they were dating, everyone just kinda worked it out or knew about the feelings early on

I already did Pete and Grace, but pretend they are here too

[thelostboyslove-ect]

Tour Mates (The Lost Boys X Fem!Reader) Chapter 1

(Hello, Hi, How ya goin. So I have been lurking in the Lost Boys fandom for over a year now and have been feral for these boys for far too long to not have an insane amount of ideas about them. So as if this movie didn't have a strong enough chokehold on me already, it led me to write my first ever fic. I have no idea if it's any good, but I hope someone out there at least enjoys the vision. This will be multiple chapters cause I can't shut up. Behold! Whatever this is!

P.S. I know Dwayne and his actor aren’t actually 6’7. But ya girl is 5’10 and may have a small size kink and this is my fic😤So let a girl live.)

Pairing: The Lost Boys x Fem!Reader (Poly Lost Boys implied)

Work count: 1208

Warnings: Darker Fic, misogyny, sexism, allusions to sex, allusions to murder, the boys being whores. Smut in future chapters.

Summary: You had always wanted nothing more than to be in a band and share your music with the world, and you were finally on your way to doing so. If only your band was big enough to do it alone.

You had always wanted to be a musician. Always. Ever since you could remember. From a child when you would sit and listen to whatever music your dad loved, making you guess titles and quiz you on the bands. From when you were a preteen and had the freedom to branch out to whole new styles of music you had never heard, buying records with what little money you could save. From when you got a guitar on your thirteenth birthday and played every moment you could after school and every chance on the weekends. From when you were fifteen and your friends made the choice to form a band. And from when you made the promise that very day that you would be the most legendary band in history.

While you were yet to be the most legendary band in history, for now, you were finally making moves. You were nowhere near Motely Crue, but you were getting somewhere. After years of writing, months upon months of being in studios, and all the savings you could muster. You finally had the money, the managers, and the following to go on tour. Your dream was coming true. If only there wasn’t one slight, incredibly frustrating, and immensely infuriating problem.

While you had the monetary ability to tour and quite the following, you weren’t quite big enough to tour on your OWN. Enter stage left the current bain of your existence—The Lost Boys. A Californian glam rock heavy metal band just starting to find their feet os so luckily at the same time as you. The band consisted of David the lead singer, a dominant man who truly embodied the idea of a frontman. Marko the bassist - the secondhand man to David as they had said themselves which had been proven multiple times with the way Marko seemed to wait on David hand and foot, never seeming to be too far behind him. Paul the lead guitarist, a wild chaotic lady’s man who always smelt of weed where it may be his erratic behavior took him. And last but DEFINITELY not least Dwayne. The drummer, an imposing 6’7 man who seemed to be made of muscle, with an intense gaze that could make anyone feel immense fear or simply melt depending on his mood.

At first, it had seemed perfect. They were nice, if not slightly flirty (aka clawing to get into your pants from the get go) and your bandmates got along brilliantly with them. You loved their music and it matched your sound really well. It was the ideal situation. That was until maybe a month into the tour. You could understand the excitement for a while, the booze, the drugs, the women, the partying. You’d be a hypocrite if you had blamed them for enjoying those things seeing as you had partaken in them yourself. But you thought that maybe after a little while that they would maybe calm down a bit. But they seemed pretty dead set on sticking to their band's slogan of sleeping all day and partying all night. Which you would respect if it wasn’t for the fact that it was impacting your ability to sleep at all, and in turn, your ability to play.

Now it was already hard being a woman in the rock industry, but being the only woman on an otherwise all-male tour? That came with a whole nother set of problems. You had been called every misogynistic name under the sun. Constantly told you couldn’t play, which your predicament was only adding fuel to the fire. Even more, you had your fair share of being told that the only reason that any of the boys kept you around on the tour, is so that they can have someone around as a backup to fuck on the nights they can't pull any groupies. A sleazy stand-in kept in reserve for desperate nights.

This is where the resentment began. You obviously didn’t care about anyone on tour sleeping around or bringing people back to the hotels, it came with the territory, and your boys did it pretty regularly. But the lost boys were seemingly insatiable. Bringing groups of fawning girls back to their (weirdly) shared hotel room every single night. Of course, this word spread and they inevitably got nothing but praise for their man whore behavior. As where you had been branded a slut for so much as picking up a guitar and being in a band. You had even only made out with one man on the entirety of the tour! The opportunity to go any further being ruined by the band in question themselves when they stumbled across you and refused to leave, glowering at the man till he took his hands off of you and left. A strange situation but nonetheless frustrating. The resentment only grew as the situation began to affect you in other ways than just your image and reputation.

When the boys would bring these girls back to their room it would always go the same. At some ridiculous hour of the morning you would hear the drunken love-struck giggles of the group of girls they had chosen for the night, followed by the strong voice of David beckoning them into the room, insisting for them to make themselves at home, to even shed a few layers to get comfortable, which would inevitably be followed by whooping and hollering from the other boys and then the music would start blaring. But no matter how loud they would blast the music you could always still hear the giggling, which would turn to moaning, which would turn to shrieking. You had to admit the first few nights, hell even to this day, it sometimes frightens you. Sometimes the screams just don’t seem as pleasurable as they should. Sometimes they are…almost blood-curdling. Like someone losing a fight for their life. But you know that’s just your imagination running wild, because just inevitably as the girls being there every night, the moaning would return. Always just the boys though, but you always imagined they had just fucked the girls out so much that they didn’t have the energy to make much noise.

These nightly occurrences would not bother you if it weren’t for the fact that while they were up and causing chaos, you were up and unable to sleep. Which for the first few weeks, was fine, but now nearing a month and a half of borderline sleepless nights due to the proclivities of your tour mates, you were starting to come undone. You didn’t have the luxury of sleeping all day, so naps in your dressing room were having to suffice and that would inevitably have an effect on your performance. You can't remember the last time you got through a show and didn’t mess up at least a segment or two from a few songs.

But after all of that what had been your final straw, was the boys being AWARE of the effects their actions had on you. They HAD to be from the way they had taunted you, teased you. The acts had become more frequent as the days went on. And ton your aggravation, harder to forget about.

[sethsclearwater]

as a Paul stan I just NEED the other version with Paul caving in and letting reader top him just to have that cocky posture broken like Seth did. PLEASE 😭 with Paul being choked, pinned down and enjoying everything

PLEASE😭😭

...

after a long two months of paul being subjected to seth's memory of just how amazing it felt to have you on top for once, he finally decided he'd had enough and wanted to experience it for himself.

so here you found yourself, giggling as you straddled paul while seth took paul's usual chair in the corner, watching closely. "you gonna be good for me?" you asked paul teasingly, the giggles that followed your question letting all three of you know you couldn't take yourself seriously.

paul rolled his eyes, "don't get too cocky with it princess," he grumbled and you smiled, running your hands down his chest before settling at his cock that was already more than ready to be buried inside you.

you wrapped your hand around his length, giving it a soft squeeze that had paul letting out a groan before you were lifting your hips to line him up with your entrance, "go slow-" paul started but, to continue to prove your point that you were on top tonight, you completely ignored his instructed, giving him a quiet 'tut' before you were sinking down his length and sheathing him inside you.

paul couldn't even argue with you, instead just dropping his head back as he let out a loud groan, his grip on your hips tightening to the point where you were sure there'd be an imprint of his fingertips in the morning.

he went to lift your hips up to guide you up and down his cock but you huffed, immediately sliding your hands down to cover his and pry them off your hips, "don't even think about it lahote," you teased, smiling as you interlaced his fingers with yours, pinning his hands down next to him.

paul rolled his eyes at your words but conceded, still interested in figuring out just how you managed to make the man cum so quickly from being on top. "much better," you teased, offering him a flirty smile before you were slowly rolling your hips against his, knowing just how frustrated the slow pace would make him.

your soft whimpers and moans as you fucked yourself on paul's cock had him in a trance, loving seeing just how much pleasure his cock alone could give you. "you feel so good-" you whimpered, biting down on your lip as you continued rolling your hips against his, dangerously close to cumming.

"you know you gotta make your bottom cum before you do princess?" paul's teasing voice came from below you, pulling you out of your own world of pleasure much to your annoyance.

"god you're so annoying sometimes!" you exclaimed, reaching down without any hesitation to wrap your hand around his throat, pressing down with just enough pressure to cut off his oxygen, combining the action with a rough roll of your hips against his.

you didn't intend for your movements to make him cum but they seemed to nonetheless as you felt his breath catch as the warmth of his release spilled into you, "i told you!" seth laughed from behind you two, causing you to giggle as you looked over your shoulder at him, "you're so pretty you know that? look so pretty taking his cock," seth cooed, getting up as he spoke to lean over and press a quick kiss to your lips before he was heading into the bathroom to get a towel for you and paul.

you laughed as you turned your attention back to paul who seemed to be coming back to his senses a little bit, "that was absolutely ridiculous," he grumbled as he looked up at you, rolling his eyes which had you giggling again.

he was quick to lose his composure, letting out a quiet laugh at your reaction to making him cum so quickly, "jus' gotta be a little mean to you," you teased, sliding your hands up his chest before leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"you better not say a word about this to anyone," paul murmured teasingly against your lips, both of you letting out soft laughs at his fear of his newfound kink being outed to all of la push.

"cross my heart," you reassured, "now are you gonna make your bottom cum or what?" you teased, squealing as he was quick to take you up on your offer, rolling you over so he was now ontop, ready to go for round 2.

[honkshoo-zzz]

How I see the Mercs within the LBGTQ+ Community

cause i keep seeing people posting things and EVERYONE KEEPS GETTING IT WRONG!! /j who cares i jus wanna make a funky list too

Scout: Def Bisexual, Trans ftm (can take or leave)

Probably has a preference for women

Probably doesn’t realize he likes men until he works with them 24/7 and all of his coworkers are hunky n sweaty and maybe a lil flirty

If trans, used Sex Bom tattoo to cover top surgery scars. Even though it’s definitely just worse than just having ts scars lmao

Soldier: Bisexual and Poly

I just love him dating Zhanna and Demo honestly

Fuck it, other mercs too, if they wanted

Tbh I also fuck with aro/ace vibes for him, he’s just kinda around for a good time with the homies in my mind. Both is good

I do see his preference being fairly equal though. Too busy thinking about his love for the US to think too much about tiddies/ass/etc.

Pyro: Def Ace, and either Aro or Lesbian in my mind. Also Nonbinary.

Either gender-fluid or just straight-up no gender enby. no in-between in my eyes.

I’m mostly all for Aro/Ace Pyro but I saw some Pyro x Ms. Pauling art and. love that. ugh, decisions…

Feel like they use whatever pronouns. Don’t gaf, will never gaf

Also no sex cause the suit just doesn’t come off. Also too busy setting shit on fire to care. More important shit to do.

Demoman: Pansexual and Poly

Again, dating Soldier who is also dating Zhanna

He’s also in a longterm relationship with Eyelander. Don’t ask too many questions about how that works though. But they are.

Also doesn’t have a gender-preference (obviously, he’s married to a sword). Semi-opportunistic in that sense, I guess (again he’s married to a sword. how many times do i gotta—)

Heavy: Bisexual, preference for Men

Idk man but Heavy and Medic have been married for a long time in my eyes

Also I feel like he participated in his sisters’ longing to “see another man” while living in Russia, had a similar reaction to meeting Medic upon taking the Merc job as Zhanna meeting Scout/Soldier

(For those who have yet to read the comics, that reaction basically just being: “you are man. I am horny. let’s bang.” and Medic would just be like o///o “aight” I think)

Biggest trans supporter tho, idk why but it just makes sense he would be the first to punch the teeth out a transphobe. Defends other mercs when confronted about gender shit 100%

Engineer: Bisexual, preferring Women; ftm Trans

The more top surgery art I see of him, the more I fall in love with trans Engie. It’s basically canon to me now. You can take this from my cold, dead hands.

Idk not much else to say. He’s a switch, though, if that adds much of anything HXSKFJEJX

No bottom surgery in my mind, either. Just makes his own straps n shit, cause he can (one of his 11 PhDs was in sex, actually, did you know?)

Medic: Gay, ftm Trans (again, can take or leave)

The most bottom-gay I’ve ever seen, personally (idk how else to phrase it, forgive me)

Again, I feel like he’s been married to Heavy for a long time

If trans, did his own top and bottom surgery, probably at the same time, cause he knew he could and he’s fucking insane (scars are a little wild as a result but he wears them with pride)

Sniper: Gay. das it HFSKFJEK

Gay, but the type of guy where you’d never know til his fuckin boyfriend walks out and kisses him or sum

Also he’s exclusively a top in my mind. Idk why but I feel like he’s got control issues HHEEKLEDP

Again, not super out-spoken about his sexuality, but *will* go out of his way to stab a homophobe. Not kill them from a distance, specifically stab. Shit’s more personal that way (is that too morbid? sorry)

Spy: Bisexual, Genderfluid

Another bottom, but will top if needed (like with most women, if he somehow gets with *another* bottom, etc.)

He’s also a whore. A slut, even. Good for him.

OH AND GENDERFLUID omg. Saw some stuff about that recently so it’s new to my pea brain but I like it.

Again, like Sniper, I feel like he wouldn’t really talk about his gender stuff a lot, but would discover this of himself when disguising himself as women and just feeling. Just as comfortable, if not more comfortable as them at times.

Kinda sensitive about it, though, probably. Will stab anyone who mentions it while he’s figuring it out. But gets better upon meeting the mercs and their gay-asses, lmao

“holy shit it’s not that crazy to like to have boobs sometimes” type-beat.

ok i’m done. again feel free to add stuff, fight me (like, as a bro), or whatever. Love talking about it cause I love these lil weirdos. Probably too much. oh well hdkafjejfk

[doctorstrangereview]

0143: Doctor Strange (vol. 2) #8

Cover Date: June 1975 On-Sale Date: March 11, 1975

Finally, back to the solo series. With Doc's book being bi-monthly, the Defenders monthly, the Giant-Size Defenders series (mercifully coming to an end soon) and the occasional guest spot, the solo reviews feel few and far in-between. This is the penultimate installment of the Dormammu reborn story. All sorts of mystical things are about to happen!

And we Doc and his main squeeze, Clea, about to be magically pummeled by Orini and a horde of funky looking Dark Dimension demons. Doc is powerless. Clea refuses to lift a hand against daddy. Speaking of daddy, Orini looks mighty fine with his bald head, silver beard and bare chest. (Paul Smith manages to slip in a few more of these glimpses when Orini shows up again in the more conservative 80s.) A light bulb suddenly lights up over Doc's head. He might not have any power, but Clea isn't so encumbered. He has Clea use the Cloak of Levitation and fly them away.

Clea finds a spot that she used to hide as a kid. We have no idea how old Clea actually is as there's never been anything that states how long residents of the Dark Dimension live. Someone once theorized Clea could be thousands of years old, but that's not canonical. Clea informs Doc that Umar attacked him to draw him away from Earth and hid Dormie's basking in Mother Nature's goodness. Then Clea finds a creepy doll she used to play with.

She then gets nostalgic about "how things used to be." Dormie was the master and everyone else were slaves. Clea's daddy, Orini, was basically the head slave making her a kind of princess. Orini was shirtless a lot, even back then.

Clea gave up a lot to bolt and hang out with Doc. She's pretty much been disowned by her daddy. Doc thinks they can try and obtain power from Orini to use against the trouble twins, but Clea says it ain't gonna happen. Then Mother Nature sends Clea a telepathic telegram. She's not looking too good.

We then look in on Dormie, Umar and the captive Mother Nature. Dormie is blowing off steam after being thrown out of The Vision and Scarlet Witch's wedding. He orders Umar to off our buddy Horse the Junkie because Clea sent him packing last issue.

Umar shows up at Horse's place in a green dress that's loose yet manages to look tight in all the right places. Horse must be using Michael Jackson's skin lightener because he's now caucasian.

After being flirty, Umar turns to her true purpose. She's gonna kill Horse, and she's gonna do it slowly.

Back in the Dark Dimension Orini is strolling around pondering dimension politics. Clea suddenly shows up and asks daddy for help. Daddy says no.

Doc believes that the Orini allowing Clea to leave without obliterating her means something. However, it doesn't mean he's gonna let Doc get his mojo back either. Doc has another idea. They're gonna call on Mother Nature to help them out of this mess and get back home. She's Dormie's prisoner but can still act when called on by others.

The little girl recognizes Doc and Clea as the bad people and she runs away to tell on them. Now our magical couple have a quick deadline before the mobs with torches and pitchforks show up. We get to see Clea's childhood room. Like what many parents do, her room has been frozen in time. That bed is adorable!

Clea gathers the goods just as Orini and the little girl show up. Fortunately she isn't caught. Doc and Clea perform the pagan ritual and it works! Doc heads through the barrier holding back our buddies the Mindless Ones while Clea leads daddy and the demons away from him.

Clea makes it to the G'uranthic Guardian and it does what it's supposed to do and hits her with it's beam. Back behind the barrier, Doc does something to cause all the Mindless Ones to look up and shoot off their beams. (Yup, Doc is THAT sexy!) Back at the Guardian, it's own death ray becomes something else. Then the captions say this.

Lots of firing beams and then draining. I think Mr. Englehart may have double dosed his horny goat weed while writing this. We then shift rapidly to other the other places. Weather is going crazy. Mother Nature is appealing to Umar as a fellow woman. Appeal denied! And Horse the Junkie is still in the throes of his overdose.

Doc checks on Clea. She survived and we find out that whatever the pair of them did, transferred all of Doc's power out of the Guardian and into Clea. She defends them against daddy and the demons.

Daddy retaliates. Clea shields them and is PISSED and is about to go postal on him. Fortunately, Doc intervenes.

Doc then realizes it's time to take his power back.

Doc and Clea return to Earth just as Dormie starts to emerge from the Grand Canyon.

I haven't read this arc in a bunch of years and forgot how much I enjoyed it. This was actually the first issue of the story I read about four decades ago. Yeah, I started in the middle and boy was I confused. Imagine my surprise when I finally got the first two issues and saw that Horse was definitely not white. Not to mention all the other bizarre stuff that just got weirder as things progressed.

Mr. Englehart has a some really odd battles and rituals that aren't explained and don't really make sense, but the story generally holds up. And it's also loads of fun. Englehart gets Dormie out of his promises never to invade the Earth in a way that makes sense and a giant Dormammu crawling up from the Grand Canyon is such a great image.

We explore Clea's background and meet her father. We'll meet her mother next issue, but no spoilers yet. Englehart does a neat little trick with Clea commenting on Doc's power to show how powerful he really is. Doc is shown to be capable and confident even without his power. He can reason out situations through logical deduction and come to a viable conclusion. I imagine he had to do things like this when prepping for complicated neurosurgery and needed to determine the outcome of every move he could make.

Yeah, I like this one.

[itsjustsemantics]

Love, Javier - chpt: 4

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader/OFC (no y/n, no physical description, established backstory, no clear age gap mentioned)

Content and warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, flirty waitress, casablanca!talk, Vintage diner and banter baby!!

ps- i love diner music :p

Series masterlist

Chapter 4: The Diner 

“Stay?” You exclaimed, taking your wide eyes off of the road for a second to give Javier a look of disbelief. 

“Of course she wants to stay.” Javier retorted. “Wouldn't you rather end up with Humphery Bogart than the other guy?” He searched his mind for the name, none popped up. Further convincing him that he in fact, was right. 

The sun had set and the sky had turned a purplish hue and after a couple shifts and cat naps, what started off as a harmless conversation about Casablanca (courtesy of one of David Letterman’s talk show episodes) had turned into a heated disagreement. 

Javier watched you pull into a parking space between two beaten up cars in front of an old, 24 hour diner with a disgruntled huff. Javier exited the car a few seconds prior to you, letting you fix a couple of stray strands of hair in the visor. 

The diner was located at a rather run down pit stop, the kind you would usually stay away from, especially at this ungodly hour. But since it was located at one of your silly red crosses, you had to make a stop. Even through the window javier could make out the torn leather seats; the deep cherry red colour not as bright as it should’ve been.

“I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life, married to a man who runs a bar.” You exited, still riled up, making him tear his gaze away from the spotted window and onto you. “I know that sounds snobbish to you but-” You took a second to slap the car door shut.

“So you’d prefer a passionless marriage.” Javier calmly stated.  

“-And I'd be the first lady of czechoslovakia.” You added. 

“So you’d leave the man you’ve had the greatest sex of your life with simply because he owns a bar.”

“Yes.” You nodded after a second, bringing in your windbreaker towards your chest, shielding away the chill. “And so would any woman in her right mind. We’re all very practical- even Ingrid Bergman,” You turned towards him knowingly, “Which is why she gets on that plane.” You exhaled. “So there.” 

“I get it,” Javier shrugged, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets and elongating his strides. 

“You get What?” You retorted, scurrying after him. 

“Nothing.” He shook his head, a hint of a smile on his face.

“What?” You droned, for the second time as the both of you reached the entrance to the greasy looking diner. The floor was chequered black and white, a thin layer of grime coating it and a jukebox in the far corner playing ‘Darlene’ by T. Graham Brown, the static getting in the way of most of the music. 

“Obviously, you haven’t had great sex yet.” Javier stepped aside dramatically and held the door open for you. He watched you gape at him incredulously for a few seconds before un-creasing his brow and walking in first himself. 

Javier had only been in the car with you for around twelve odd hours and he refused to believe that the woman who now stood scanning the shit pile diner for an acceptable booth, represented the wider population of women. Javier knew women. What you were, he had no idea.  

You were far too meticulous and high strung to have had good sex. Too uptight. You had every hour of the eighteen hour drive planned out to a T and as he had seen earlier on your date and then more recently at lunch, you could take even the most simple orders and turn it into something complex and barely comprehensible. It was honestly quite shameless.

Even now, the minute you had arrived at the diner you forgot about your disagreement and previewed every single booth before choosing a ‘clean’ one to sit at. Even if you chose the other guy, (who Javier had figured out was Paul Henried) it wouldn't matter, there was no way he would last even a minute dealing with your uptight nonsense, forget Humphery Bogart. 

He slumped into the leather seat of the booth, the material squeaking softly as he did so and watched you do the same, of course before inspecting the seat for unknown stains or residue. 

“I've had brilliant sex, for your information.” Javier watched you pick up the menu and scan the contents. He leaned forwards in his seat, upper body resting on his forearms folded across the table. 

“Tell me then.” he craned his neck over the line of the menu to get your attention. “Who did you have this brilliant sex with?” He watched you slam the menu down against the table and raise your eyebrows.

“I’m not going to tell you that.” you bit back. He leaned back into his seat, his tongue running along the bottom of his mouth while yours curled into an embarrassed frown. 

“Fine, don’t tell me.” He swiped the menu from underneath your palms and lazily dragged his eyes across it. The Judds playing raspily in the background filled the silence. 

The both of you turned towards an energetic ‘hi!’ and you smiled, ready to place your order. Your smile faltered when you saw the waitress drinking in Javier’s arms. She was very pretty with red lipstick that matched her checked apron and her luscious ebony hair falling down the length of her shoulder in fluffy curls. 

“Hey there.” Javier said, bedazzling her with his charming smile. She caught her bottom lip between her straight teeth and changed her position, accentuating her chest. 

“What can I get ya.” She smiled. Javier’s eyes left hers for a brief second and saw you rolling yours and busying yourself with another menu while he gave her his order; completely ignoring the events unfolding in front of you. 

“I’ll have the number 3, and a black coffee, no sugar.” Javier turned back to the waitress and smiled. She then turned to you, not quite with the same smile. Javier adjusted his jeans and leaned back into his seat, extending his arms over the rim, waiting to hear what lengthy instructions you had in store this time. 

And just like at the restaurant where he had first heard it, he couldn't help but be intrigued by the whole thing. 

“I’d like the chef's salad please, but with the vinaigrette, not the honey mustard, on the side. And I'll also have your apple pie.” 

“Okayy,” The waitress did a quick job of scribbling it down. 

“Wait-” You said, putting down the menu and folding your arms across the table. The waitress half turned, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.  “I’d like the pie heated and I don’t want the ice cream on top, I want it on the side and I'd like a berry flavour if you have it, instead of the vanilla; if you don’t then no ice cream at all and whipped cream instead.” Just when the waitress thought you were finished, you started again, much to Javier’s amusement. “But, only if it's real, if it’s out of a can, then nothing.” 

“Not even the pie?” The waitress  

“No, just the pie, not heated.” You finished, as if she had asked the most stupid question. 

“Uh huh.” The waitress ran her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She gave Javier one last longing look as she strutted away, hips and all. 

Javier stared at you, trying to look for something he clearly couldn't find. His eyes broke away for a second, stealing a sneaky glance at your waitress behind the counter waving at him. 

“What.” you asked and with the way you rolled your eyes, he guessed you got this look a lot at restaurants. 

“Nothing, nothing.” He smiled as he leaned back into the leather. “It's just interesting that's all.” 

“What’s interesting?” You arrowed your eyes in his direction. 

“This is what I meant, in the car.” he leaned forwards suddenly. “This is why you’ve never had good sex.” 

“My ordering?” You folded your arms across your chest and pursed your lips. 

“Not just the ordering.” He said, “You’re far too meticulous to enjoy sex.” 

“Shel Gordon.” You cleared your throat. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Shel Gordon is the great sex I've had.” You pronounced. 

“Shel- Sheldon?” Javier snorted. “You did not have great sex with sheldon.” 

“Did too.” You retorted. 

“Sheldon is your income tax guy, not your sex guy.” Javier shook his head. 

“Your salad.” The waitress slid a plate carelessly onto your side, “And the number 3.” she smiled, lowering the plate onto Javier’s. “Let me know if you need anything else.” The waitress drawled seductively, running her fingers across the table as she made her way to the next table. 

“It’s the name,” Javier continued, “it just doesn't work.” He bit into his fries. 

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I've heard.” You dug into your salad, looking for the bits of chicken and Javier shrugged taking a large bite out of his sandwich. 

He chewed slowly and swallowed before taking a pause and looking towards you again. “Do it to me, sheldon. You’re an animal, sheldon.” He stressed on the name each time. 

You paused and looked at him, mouth still full from the chicken you had found. Your eyebrows knit together creating tiny creases between them. 

“Ride me big, sheldon.” He completed, clearly making his point. “It just doesn’t work.” He rested his jaw against his fist and leaned, while his other hand lazily swirled some fries in the puddle of ketchup on his plate. Watching you swallow your chicken, and some of your pride. 

“You’re unbelievable.” You finally said, not being able to think of anything clever. You dug into your salad with more gusto, fork clattering against the bottom of the plate and mouth intentionally overfull to avoid conversation.

Javier watched you, cheek still resting on his fist. He had thought you were pretty even before meeting you. Javier had recognised you from family pictures Steve had shown him back in Columbia when they were killing time on a stakeout, surprising himself as to how well he remembered them. Those did no justice whatsoever to how you looked in person. One of them was outside what Steve had said was Connie’s parents place, you were in a denim halterneck, mini dress; all legs. Right in front of the large grill that was being tended to by Steve’s dad alongside Connie, Steve and another man. Javier’s thoughts drifted for a second. Sheldon perhaps. 

Although a complete pain in his ass, Javier couldn’t ignore the fact that you were nothing short of incredibly attractive; He was a man after all. He knew the minute he saw you on the curb, those fucking shorts securing against your thighs were going torture him the entire drive. 

“I really don't get it,” Javier said, “I’m not trying to come onto you. Rest assured. You’re-” He gestured to the top half of you, your mouth still bulging with food. “-An empirically attractive person. Despite your…quirky traits.” He paused to take a bite of his sandwich. “I don't get why you have to make life so difficult for yourself? Good sex should come easy to you.” 

You stopped chewing altogether and Javier wondered if you were aware of the fact. 

“Is good sex all you think about?” The question came after you had finished swallowing. The jukebox now played ‘our love is here to stay’ , the one by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. 

“You forget whiskey.” Javier brought the cup of coffee to his lips. “I thought Connie told you.” He raised his eyebrows teasing, and took a sip, sucking the coffee that had dripped down onto his thumb with a smooch.  

~

After splitting the bill, the both of you flopped into the car, Javier taking the driver’s seat this time. He pushed open the console and stuck a cigarette between his lips, making a quick job of lighting it.

“Have you thought about what would have happened if Ilsa and Rick never actually slept together?” You fastened your seatbelt and Javier checked the rearview mirror. “Do you think they could’ve just been good friends?” 

“No.” His answer was plain and simple. 

“Why not?” You discarded your shoes and brought your feet up onto the seat, checking the map on the visor and then your watch. 

“Men and women can never be friends.” he stated coolly as he reversed the car, eyes still focused on the mirror. 

“That’s quite the claim.” You laughed. “Dare I ask why?” 

He shrugged, switching the gears, “The sex always gets in the way.” 

“That’s not true” You scoffed, shaking your head “I have a number of male friends and there is no sex involved.” 

Javier shook his head. “No you don’t.” The words tumbled out of his mouth, each followed by a small cloud of smoke.

“Yes I do.” He shook his head again, as if his theory wasn’t up for debate which caused you to frantically turn to him nodding. “Yes I do!”

“You only think you do.” 

You laughed incredulously. “So you’re saying I'm sleeping with these men without my knowledge?” 

“No, what I'm saying is they all want to have sex with you.” 

“How do you know?” You creased your eyebrows. 

“Chica, we’ve been over this, I know how-” 

“Men operate.” You mocked, rolling your eyes. 

“Yes, exactly. A man cannot be friends with a woman he finds attractive.” 

You laughed, “Ha! So you’re saying a man can be friends with a woman he doesn’t find attractive then.” Javier shook his head, for the third time. 

“No, they pretty much want to sleep with them too.” You turned to him, appalled. 

“I find it rather amusing that you think every man is cad.” You slapped your hands against the tops of your thighs. “You’d be surprised to find that, some of them actually do care about platonic relations with the opposite sex.” 

“I know you think Colin or your male ‘friends’ are above it all,” His tone made quotes over ‘friends’ “but trust me, they’ve all thought about having sex with you at some point or the other and sooner or later they’re going to articulate it.” Javier could tell his words had sunk in a little bit more, with your prolonged silence. 

“What if I don’t want to have sex with them?” You raised an eyebrow curiously. 

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “The sex thing is already out there and hence the friendship has already gone to dog shit, end of story. Men and women can't be friends.” A truck honked beside you causing you to jump in your seat. 

“So you don’t have any female friends?” You asked, tone bordering on pity, remnants of disbelief still hung on your words. 

“Nope.” Javier said, smacking his lips on the ‘p’ 

“Let me guess, it got in the way.” You teased. 

“Yes.” He turned to you. “It got in the way.”  

“I’m still not convinced by the fact that you think all men are as perverse as you are.” You wrinkled your nose and Javier grinned. 

“I don't think, chica, I know.” 

You muttered something under your breath softly and Javier turned back to the road. You reached over and flicked the radio on to a random station and ‘everybody wants to rule the world’ came on. You smiled to yourself and leaned against the window on your side, your feet tapping softly to the beat. 

The rest of the ride flew by with you asleep and Javier covering some of your last shifts entertained by your soft snoring and the monotonous chatter of a news broadcasting on the radio. By the time you reached your friend Amanda’s neighbourhood the sun was just peeking out from behind the clouds. Javier had made good time, despite your prior estimates. 

“Thanks for the ride.” You yawned, dragging the last of your suitcases onto the curb in front of Amanda’s building.  “It was…enlightening.” You said, your hands finding your hips to rest on. 

“It was.” Javier said, bordering on a yawn- courtesy of the extra hours he had to drive. He dropped your bag next to your small suitcase. You muttered a small sorry in response which he waved off, covering the yawn with his knuckles. 

“Have a safe drive.” You said, finally as he made his way back to the driver’s seat, almost begrudgingly, his legs stiff from the last couple of hours. 

“I’ll see you then.” he chopped the air in a small wave with his car keys and ducked into the vehicle. 

You watched his car slowly merge with the other ones on the road, “See you.” 

~0o0~

A/N: heya, sorry for missing yesterday's update. Although I have an exam tomorrow, I was too excited about this chapter and had to post an update. (all those taking your as/a level examinations I feel you T-T)

Speaking of missing updates, I'm travelling 9th and 10th, so I'll only post when I reach or a few days after. Do stick around, I assure you, I'm not going ANYWHERE. As usual, don't forget to leave a note and check out the other chapters :)) They're on my profile <3

[the-fiction-witch]

Blood Pumping P2

Media Nowhere Boy

Character Paul

Couple Paul X Reader

Rating Flirty AF

Requested

I didn't know which was worse my fear or my excitement, it was like having two over excited puppies in my mind jumping over each other attempting to be seen. The door opened and immediately I gulped her shoes gone, her little white socks pulled high, her skirt tugged up high, her button down shirt unbuttoned enough to reveal the start of her cream bra, her tie long gone, her hair let loose from the usual braids and ponytails allowed to hang naturally with only her alice band to push it back.

"Oh hi Paul"

For a moment no words arrived at my mouth honestly I was doing my best not to loose my balance as I felt like I could have fainted as my heart was beating out my chest, my blood pumping around me every drop of blood flooding to my stiff erection ".........uhhhh hi y/n" I blushed

"Don't you look handsome"

"Uuuuuuuughhhhhhhh thank you, you uhhhh you umm" I stuttered "You look beautiful"

"You're cute. Come on we can sit up in my room" she smiled grabbing my hand and dragging me inside with her 

She lead me into her bedroom which was actually in the loft having to climb a steep stairwell to get up there but it wa sa very large room with anything a teenage girl could want a huge double bed, desk, a huge record collection that rivaled my own and John's out together next to a pretty high end player, and her own one suite. Everything in it was impressive and clearly expensive many of the perfume, make up and such I recognized from magazines and such I didn't know what her family did but clearly they had money.

"Whoa this uhh this is nice" I told her as she jumped on her bed hugging a stuffed bear I had to avert my eyes given I now stood over her bed and could pretty much see up her skirt and honestly seeing her in this half undone school uniform in her bed hugging her teddy bear was… unlocking things in my mind it really shouldn't have been, uuummmm believe me babydoll I wanna jump in that bed with you 

"Thanks, took a lot of work" she says 

"I can imagine, so uhh algebra?" I asked putting my stuff down trying not to look at her 

"Ehh do we have to? I've just done so much work at school" she whined rolling on her bed a little

"Well we uhh we can chill out for a little better it that would help?" I suggested

"Awww your so sweet" she smiled getting up and stroking across my shoulders as she past me "none of my other tutors let us do that" she smiled giving my cheek a kiss 

"Well I uhh I uh I'm not like other tutors" 

"I can see that" she smiled flicking through her records finally picking one and adding it to the player setting some music on and I recognized the song 

"Hu… you uhh you like this?"

"Ummm very much"

"I uhh I do too, I don't have it myself but John plays it alot. How'd you get it? I thought it hadn't been released over here yet?"

"I have my ways" she smiled 

"Do uhh you mind me asking what your parents do?"

"My mum works in the seamstress shop in town turning hems and such" she explained moving around her room doing various things "you can sit on the bed Paul it's okay" she smiled 

So I did take a seat there even if I had to force some darker thoughts away "and your dad?"

"He runs the record shop on East gate"

"Really! That explains the collection I'm guessing"

"He likes to give me promos to listen too, he says he uses me for customer resource"

"How do?"

"He gives me all the promos the shop gets and I tell him what to order and what not to order track the trends he says" 

"I uhh I go there all the time" 

"Umm he tells me"

"He does?"

"He likes to keep me posted on…cute boys who sniff around the right musical sections" she Cooes 

"That uhh that's how you knew my name?"

"No, I found that out after a nice evening in the dance hall." She explained 

"The dancehall? So you uhh you uhhh"

"Yes Paul I've seen you play" she giggled coming and sitting in the bed with me "you boys are really good, but your my favorite"

"Thanks, that's really sweet of you. I'll have to get you backstage some day"

"That would be nice, so long as you promise to keep me safe"

"Of course I would,"

"You'll have to let me know the first time you boys record some stuff I'll have to had it to my collection, I'd pay of course"

"Absolutely, but I couldn't charge you y/n"

"That's sweet Paul, but really it's no trouble I'd love to not fair to get stuff for free" she says and a wicked smile went across her face she stroked across my hand and I glanced down nervously but excited and when I glanced back up to her she captured my lips in an intense hot kiss I happily kissed back feeling my blood pumping around my body in excitement as we kissed till she pulled away and kissed my nose "that can be a little deposit" 

"Uuuuuuuhhh yeah uhh okay" I nodded trying desperately to think straight

"That okay or do you need some more?" She asks wrapping her arms around my shoulders

"Uhh more. Yeah more.. please"

"Your so cute, it's fine Paul you can kiss and cuddle as much as you like even a little more of you… did my algebra for me?"

"Deal!" I told her happily pulling her back for another kiss 

[newhavenrp]

Is that NOAH CENTINEO? No, that's BENJAMIN "BENJI" HOBBS. The 27 year old BLOOD MOON WERETIGER OMEGA DUAL NATURED MALE is a COOK & CO-OWNER OF THE RIGHT SPOT. If you ask their friends, they're known to be PLAYFUL & FLIRTY, but they urge you to be cautious, because they're also known to be RECKLESS & FLIPPANT. Their friends also say that they're into KNOTTING, BREEDING, & SEMI/PUBLIC SEX but don't even think about trying GORE, WATERSPORTS OR SCAT with them.

Born outside of New Haven, Benji had never known true peace. Born from a witch and a weretiger, his family has been subject of severe ridicule. When it wasn't because of his mixed family, it was due to him having two dads. When it wasn't the awkward stares and glances, it was fowl words and bricks being thrown through their windows. And so they moved and moved and moved. Benji has always felt unwelcomed wherever he went, this became especially true after his parents' death. They were killed by a group of drunkards. It started as the usual harassment that went too far. In an attempt to defend themselves, one of Benji's father shifted into his beastly form.

Unfortunately, they had been carrying silver. Since then, Benji had been on his own, hitching a ride wherever he went. He managed to be taken in as a cook. It managed to be something he took to quite well. If he fed others, he'd manage to feed himself. There seemed to be an odd peace in being useful. It didn't really matter from then on if he got run out of the joint the next day, Benji would have be to survive with his cooking. From town to town to town, Benji traveled throughout the country using only what he developed from every truck stop dinner and middle of nowhere stackhouse.

Though, as time went on, he found leaving these places started to lessen in recurrence and the thought of remaining in one of these places for too long triggered Benji's instinct of flight once more. Luckily for the weretiger, he wouldn't have to travel alone. He had met Matthew during a summer at a Mex-Tex place. The AC was broken and while Benji would normally complain about the heat, getting to seat the shirtless witch was more than enough compensation. Benji would become distracted throughout service.

The staring gave way to the ease dropping, listening in on Matthew's conversations about his travels with his friends. The sights they've seen, the people they've met, the people they've screwed. Benji wasn't surprised at the direction of the group's turn in conversation, unexpected details in conversations comes with eavesdropping. Apparently Benji make for a bad spy, seeing as he was found out by Matthew just a couple seconds after. He managed to speak with the witch later that night, offering what he had been saving up to travel along with Matthew and his friends. Benji himself wasn't particularly optimistic about his chances, having been the one to see exactly how cramped they all were in the witch's van.

However, a bit of luck seemed to gather in the moment as a few of Matthew's traveling friends had decided on this stop to be their last, offering the space in the van to Benji. From then on, Benji was finally truly free. He would travel the road with Matthew and the ever changing crew in the van. While traveling, Benji met many different people. He met Peters, Pauls, and Georges, though he was always a Ringo or Brian short of traveling with the Beatles. Whenever it was time for one of their trope members to leave, it was a bittersweet occasion. Benji would ask them why this place. They would always answer with something vague like, "Something about this place wants me here." A difficult feeling to understand for Benji until they came across New Haven.

It was here Benji found himself thinking he could build a new life here with other supernatural creatures just like him. It wasn't perfect, but it beats the years of running he had done before. With the help of his good friend Matthew, they would open up a sex toy shop. Benji was just happy the town had accepted their initial paperwork, otherwise the only alternative Benji would be able to come up would be "Hard Times". Just as any goal takes hard work to achieve, so would operating the Right Spot, allowing Benji to occasionally work as a cook for different businesses across New Haven.

[terastalungrad]

BB20: Sunday 22 October

I'm done sulking about the second eviction. Let's watch more Big Brother.

Matty's eviction night outfit is so wonderful.

Jordan's surprised by the "get Kerry out" chant. Only Olivia heard "get Olivia out" (though I have no doubt she's right).

Jordan reckons he should be wary of Kerry. If they public don't like her, he suspects he's missed something.

I bet he expected the chanting to be about Hallie or Olivia - they were the focus of drama in the house this week. Kerry's been under the radar.

Real antagonism between Trish and Dylan. Step by step:

Dylan starts cooking for the whole house - measuring a portion of chicken per person.

Trish starts cooking a sausage sandwich for herself.

Dylan is surprised by this, and comments on him. If she's going to eat now, he won't make her any chicken in that case.

Trish becomes defensive and annoyed. She doesn't like receiving commentary on her behaviour.

(Trish regularly cooks expensive food for herself whenever she feels like it - this has been an occasional issue in the house.)

Dylan is annoyed by Trish's bad mood. He's sad that he's lost a friend to eviction, and feels like he has more of a right to be annoyed.

Trish is annoyed by this too - she was also friends with Zak!

Dylan claims he's just trying to maintain the normal banter they have.

Trish didn't take this as banter.

Now. At the start of this argument, I'm on Dylan's side. But by the end, he raises his voice and talks over Trish. He may have had a point at the start, but he didn't manage his anger well.

Jenkin and Tom speculate about the anti-Kerry chanting. Tom reckons Kerry exaggerates her reactions because she's a Big Brother superfan. He also thinks she's too protective of Hallie.

I doubt these things matter much. Kerry's relationship with Hallie is my favourite thing about her. Kerry's exaggerated reactions can sometimes cross over from funny to annoying, but I suspect it's her negativity in tasks that's got people's goats.

Dylan apologises nicely to Trish. They hug, all friends again.

Matty jokingly tells Jordan he's the "Paul to my Olivia", a fun reference to the two flirty relationships in the house.

A superstition has formed around the screen that displays the 16 housemates - that they will be evicted from the bottom row up. Zak and Farida were both in the bottom row. This means the winner will be in the top row - a row that includes Jordan and Yinrun, so this is plausible.

Yinrun and Matty bond - both lost a grandfather who'd develop Parkinson's. This friendship is important to me.

I think Henry had definitely decided he'd be going. He's not entirely emotionally prepared to have stayed.

The queer men of the house explain cottaging to Tom.

"Oh, like dogging in a lavatory?" says Tom. "Mint."

Interesting task. Big Brother provides a tea party for a house meeting, to discuss issues in the house.

Certain issues - chores, food, and maybe gossiping - have formed cracks in the house. Enforcing a house meeting actually seems very useful. I wonder if this is a conscious attempt to keep the house a relatively happy space?

Kerry suggests giving everyone in the house £5 each from the budget to spend on themselves - that way, people can have a bar of chocolate to keep in their own bedroom drawer. Trish shoots this down. Too complicated.

Trish also states that they should not be doing any food monitoring. Everyone has a different relationship to food.

On the one hand, she's spot-on here - at least one housemate has suggested a history of disordered eating. But also, Trish cooks a lot of meat just for herself, which doesn't seem especially social. But nobody calls her on this.

There are three items on the agenda, chosen by Trish. After food, it's True Authentic Selves.

Jordan takes the time to express that he doesn't smile, so when people tell him to smile, they're asking him to be inauthentic. The group takes this in good humour.

Cute moment in the tea party where Hallie and Henry enjoy drinking their tea with a little finger extended - a bit of private silliness they do without verbal communication.

Third topic: consideration. At bedtime, Trish wants no silly running around.

Paul feels attacked by this, because he likes a bit of silly running around at bedtime. He's happy to change his behaviour if asked politely, but doesn't enjoy someone laying down the law like this.

Hallie raises toilet etiquette - why are people not flushing the toilet? Olivia concurs. She didn't mind cleaning the toilet, but, "The poo touching my hand was a harrowing experience."

Later, Tom, Chanelle and Jenkin complain about others hogging food and booze.

Jenkin: I've said it from day one, I'm starving in a house full of food. I am wasting away. It's getting beyond a joke, I can nearly see my willy like.

Yinrun gets in the hot tub - her first time ever in a jacuzzi!

Jordan and Trish discuss the groups into which the house is split. They reckon Noky and Dylan float between these groups.

Although the correct choice was to evict Henry rather than Zak, I can't pretend it isn't fun forcing Henry to live in a house watching his crush fall for another man.

Earlier, Noky teared up while discussing Zak. This seems to have surprised the house as much as it surprised me.

Jordan doubts her sincerity. He reckons this was a performance, using the skills she developed to win Miss Universe 2022.

Matty's picked up on the complexity of Jordan's emotions. He tells Jordan that the option is always there for a serious conversation.

[y0ur-val3ntine]

waving . 💙 , 💜 , and i cant see what the emoji for it is but the 'do they act different once they realize they're falling?' one for scout !!

HAIIIIIIII ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )!!!

🩵 do they both act different once they realize they’re falling for the other? maybe stuttering or fidgeting or daydreaming more often?

Vale didn't act much differently after realizing their feelings for Scout. They were the first one to fall for him tho. Maybe a bit more awkward approaches but still kept their flirty personality, increasing the jokes and flirts when the right time came.

Scout, on the other hand, became WAY more awkward, he started to limit some of his interactions with Vale, not joking anymore and keeping up some sort of "work formality" in his own words (most of his jokes and snarky comments came out in the heat of the battle, but outside of that nothing more than a friendly pat on the back and a "good job.... buddy"). His daydreams going from Miss Pauling to Vale made him confused at first, but after a while, he got used to it and started to do it even between matches<3

💙 do they pine and yearn for each other quietly, or can they not stop talking about the other to their friends/family?

Vale keeps their feelings quiet most of the time, not trusting Soldier enough with them. Only Engie, Pyro and Demo have had the chance to hear Vale talk about how Scout loves Pauling so much and how they're a fool for being in love with him (Pyro in a playdate in their room, Demo one night out at a bar and Engie one time they were helping him out (Vale Pybro))

The moment Vale left the room, it was time for Scout to talk, everyone (except Soldier) heard him talk and ramble about them at least one time. Either also whining about Vale liking Pauling more than him or just the fact that he questions his sexuality with the way Vale presents themselves, most of the deep and emotional stuff being kept to more close people (Engie and Medic (after some anesthesia post surgery) and later Heavy (Medic it's a gossipy bitch))

💜 how do they confess? is it a grand gesture or in a more mundane moment?

A mundane moment!!

It was after a fight, both coming back all dirty and tired. Vale proposed to hang out to drink some sodas on the roof of the base, and in the middle of the stargaze and the jokes, an "I love you" slips from Vale, wich then goes to Scout. They left the roof and after they both calmed down, talked it out on Scout's room<3

(Hope it's not wrong to say, but like- they were fuck buddies sooo some "I love you"s were said from time to time, but both of them only heard it as some empty declaration, they were both yearning for each other but were too dumb to say anything)

[shandidellamorte]

~KISS AU writings 3~

Hope you all enjoy a cute, flustered Foxy!

~Shandi

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~COFFEE SHOP AU Part 2~

Featured Pairing: Ace Frehley/Eric Carr

Special Guest: Paul Stanley

Summary: Eric goes to Ace’s first performance..and meets his beautiful stage partner. Misunderstandings ensue~ (told from Eric’s POV)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I get a call from Ace while I’m cleaning up the shop. 

His excitement is so cute that I can’t help but smile. “I’m gettin’ up on stage tonight, Curly!” I can practically hear him jumping up and down. “You’ll come won’tcha? If I see you in the audience maybe I won’t choke!” I laugh. “Of course I will! Give me about an hour? I’m almost done cleaning up then I have to go back to my place to change. I’ll make sure I sit up front~” I blushed as I hear Ace kissing the receiver. “Thanks a lot, babe~ Gotta go! I’ll seeya at 9!” I hang up and sigh. I’m definitely not as nervous as he is right now but I’m pretty close. Why am I sitting down?! I have to finish up here so I can go home and get ready! Once I get home I take a quick shower and go through my dresser. The club Ace is playing at is a lounge as well so..somewhat fancy dress is required. I take out one of my trusty black button up shirts, pull on some black jeans and finish off with an orange vest. I’ve always loved the way orange and black look on me. They just seem to be my colors~ I look at my watch. 8:25. Thankfully I’ve got enough time to get there. 

My stomach sinks once I see the club entrance. There is a line wrapped around the block. Great. I’ll never get inside in time! I go up to ask the guys at the door what the wait is like and one of them looks at me as if he knows me from somewhere. I look back at him confused. I would remember if somebody as big as him came into my shop. “Your name Eric?” he asks gruffly, startling me. “Um..yes..?” He places a huge hand on my back and guides me through the doors. “Ace said he’s expectin’ you so c’mon. Show’s startin’ soon.” I can’t believe my luck! Ace just starting working here and he’s already charming the staff. I shouldn’t be surprised. The guy could charm a rock~

I find a seat near the stage and settle in. The lights started to dim as soon as I sit down. Looks like I got in just under the wire! A purple spotlight swept the stage then settled on the microphone stand. I see someone walk out but..that doesn’t look like Ace. Once he comes into the light the audience is dazzled by his appearance..and I don’t blame them. He’s perfect..with long, thick curly hair that went slightly past his shoulders, elegantly curved eyebrows and..dare I say it..the prettiest fullest lips I’ve ever seen on a man. Is he..wearing lipstick? I can’t really tell because of the color of the light but if he is it suits him. He’s wearing a rhinestone studded collar, a black and silver sequined vest and suit jacket with tails, its sleeves and lapels also covered in rhinestones. There are rhinestone decorated stars lining his pants and a white lace garter around his left thigh, all leading down to black platform heeled boots decorated with silver chains. Even in the dim light he’s glittering. He’s only come out and everyone is already applauding. That’s…some stage presence.. 

The singer smiles and blows kisses to the audience. “Thank you, all you wonderful people~” he says, taking the microphone from its stand. “It means so much that you all came out to see me tonight..as well as the newest member of my band~ Let’s welcome our new lead guitarist, Ace Frehley!!” I clap as loudly as I can when Ace comes out, waving to the crowd with a big grin on his face. He sees me and winks at me, mouthing ‘thanks, Curly’ before picking up his guitar. I think he’s going to be okay~ The band starts to play a soft melody as the singer holds the microphone close. They all sound as if they’d been playing together for years.

Though I know that you are sleepin’..girl, there’s somethin’ I must say Though the road may wind my love will find the way Many the miles have come between us..and the days, they come and go Still with all we feel it never really shows

Hold me, touch me, and think of me when we’re apart Hold me, baby won’t you touch me And think of me here in the night And you know it’ll be alright

I don’t have words to describe how amazing they are. And what a voice that singer has! Clearly it was made to sing ballads. He sways to the melody with his eyes closed, and I can see various people in the audience swaying right along with him. There are even some women crying!

Though the time apart seems endless all my thoughts remain with you I believe one day we’ll make our dreams come true

Our goodbyes go on forever..and with all that we may say Till tomorrow comes we’ll dream of yesterday

Hold me, baby won’t you touch me, and think of me when we’re apart Hold me, baby won’t you touch me And think of me here in the night And you know it’ll be alright

I didn’t expect the bridge to be so late but it worked perfectly for this song. A blue spotlight fell onto Ace as he stepped forward beside the singer. The way he played that guitar..it just made my heart absolutely melt. He’s poetry in motion..a work of art. I can’t help but cry myself. When the song ended we all stood up to applaud and cheer. A standing ovation. After a performance like that it was well deserved. The lights brighten again as the band gathers at the front of the stage and take their bows. The singer goes to Ace and presents him to the crowd. “Isn’t he wonderful?! Ace Frehley, everyone!!” My heart just about sinks down into the pit of my stomach when he gives Ace a big, long kiss. Right on his lips. In front of everyone.

Ace asked me to wait backstage for him. I don’t know why I still decide to do it after what I saw. I’m nervous about even facing him..but I want an explanation! I hear voices..then I see Ace turn the corner with that singer practically glued to his side, just laughing and joking away. Are you kidding me? I’m upset. I’m angry. I just want to turn away and leave..but Ace has already seen me. “Hey Curly!” he shouts, waving at me. I wave half heartedly in return. The need to not be here is pretty overwhelming right now. Ace comes closer in an attempt to kiss me but I turn my head and his lips kiss my cheek instead. The singer sees the look on my face and quirks an eyebrow. “Is this the guy you told me about Acey~?” he asks. 

Acey? They’re already using cute nicknames? 

“Yeah!” Ace says, ruffling my hair. “This’s Eric but I like to call ‘im Curly. You can see why~ Curly, this’s is the club’s number one songbird Paul Stanley~ Ain’t he beautiful~?” I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Yes..I..enjoyed your performance. That song was lovely.” Paul beamed. “Why thank you..how kind of you to say~ I wrote it myself~” Ace let out a cackling laugh and smacked Paul on the shoulder. “The king of modesty aren’tcha Paulie~?” 

PAULIE? 

My eyes are darting around looking for the closest exit so I can make a quick getaway. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. They’re bantering back and forth, pretty much forgetting I exist. Ace is laughing. Paul can’t keep his damn hands to himself. That’s the last straw.

“I have to go..” And I bolt, not even caring if they heard me or not.

To Be Continued!!

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

Early Jim Kirk: Why So Serious?

To the people who said that Paul Wesley's Captain Kirk was "too serious" or that it "wasn't our Jim Kirk":

Let's have a kiki, shall we? :)

A lot of folks seem to forget who Jim used to be before meeting him in TOS.

In an interview, Paul Wesley discussed how different Jim's early character and life was from TOS Kirk. Wesley's study of Jim and his early characterisation was in fact based on TOS descriptions and relevant lore surrounding it. I was not at all phased by the Jim we saw, as early Jim is described as quite a departure from our flirty, confident TOS Jim. Wesley did his homework.

From the chat that Kirk has with Gary Mitchell in TOS (Where No Man Has Gone Before 01x03) and Bones in Shore Leave (01x15) re: Finnegan, we learned in Jim's younger years, Kirk didn't always have that swagger. In fact, Jim used to be a rather serious nerd.

Kirk in the academy was described as "a stack of books with legs", "positively grim", and "watch out for Lieutenant Kirk. In his class, you either think or sink".

He also adhered to Starfleet rules far more in his early years a la Boimler. For example, he reported an error that older officer and very good friend of his Benjamin Finney made on the USS Republic, leading to Finney's demotion and later the events of Court Martial (01x20). He reported one of his own besties to HQ and got him demoted. Quite a departure from how often Kirk violates Starfleet orders and directives for Spock on TOS. Again, he is not the same Jim. Character growth.

I think folks get so wrapped up in Spock being the thinking guy and Kirk being the action guy that they forget: You kind of have to be a brilliant genius and thinker to even get a starship command, let alone the flagship. Jim is not dumb and never was; he is exceptionally smart. Spock is just a freaking GIGA GENIUS and anyone standing next to that might look less bright in contrast. But make no mistake, Jim is also brilliant as a military man and diplomat.

Jim is often stereotyped as a swaggering meathead when he is actually an intelligent and capable diplomat even from his earliest years with Starfleet. As a cadet, he was decorated by Starfleet with the Palm Leaf for his peace mission work on Axanar (Court Martial 01x20). As a Captain, Jim helped to complete just as many successful federation member recruitments as he did take names and kick ass.

Jim loves chess. He loves his dad's old books and classic literature. He memorizes quotes from those texts and references them constantly in TOS. How many jocks do you know out here memorizing classic literature to reference even now in our time? One of Jim's most precious, prized possessions is an old text copy of "A Tale of Two Cities" he got as a gift for his birthday from Spock.

There are still those glimpses of old Jim planted throughout TOS and the movies.

As you examine him and his past, every description of him as a young man in the original series was that he was a nerd. Kirk, as a character, shows how much we change as people from high school/uni to adulthood.

The early Jim Kirk is not the Kirk we knew and loved, and he often comes as a surprise to folks accustomed to the Jim he later becomes. He grows into his own over time and finds himself, like many of us. But Wesley's portrayal seemed surprisingly apt to me, considering early descriptions of James T. Kirk's character.

TLDR: Jim Kirk was described in his early years as "serious", "positively grim", "a stack of books with legs", top of his class, and would report you to HQ for a crumb. This is not the Captain Kirk you knew who took command of the Enterprise in 2265. Jim Kirk used to be a serious, passionate Starfleet nerd.

All in all, I thought Paul Wesley's character study with all this considered was

Anyway, thanks for coming to my Ted X Talk about baby James Tiberius Kirk.

I'd love to hear from you folks, feel free to chip in, add to this or correct any errors. :) LLAP.🖖

EDIT: See Part 2 of this Jim Kirk SNW AU Analysis where I respond to an ask from @letteredlettered​; we get into the importance of the Triumvirate for Kirk Prime, as well as the relevance of why Jim Kirk being assigned the Farragut would be a poor choice of command commission for him. It further solidifies that this is not “our Kirk”, but an AU where we see what would come of our Kirk if he did not get the flagship commission or meet his boays to form the Trek Trinity. 

[misslavenderlady]

The Lost Boys x Chubby Fem!Reader Headcanons 💕

Big thank you to @wowisksksj for this request! As a chubby lady myself, I was very happy to do this and I hope I made it truly special!

Enjoy~!

Now it’s no surprise that being immortal vampires, the boys have seen quite the variety of body types and shapes. Humans change their minds on what they think is “attractive” so fast, and they find that to be silly. There’s beauty in every kind of body.

The flings and crushes they have all look incredibly different from one another. It’s all a matter of who they’re drawn to at the moment, and what kind of personality they have to keep them wanting more.

So yes, they find bigger women to be quite stunning. They'll stare in awe without any shame, totally entranced by the beauty walking down the boardwalk. If they see something they want, they'll get it~

When they say “bigger”, they don’t just mean hourglass figures with small waists, large breasts, and an ass (though they do like that too). You could be apple-shaped, pear-shaped, have a small cup size, not much in the back, or quite a bit of belly in the front. They’re well aware that everyone isn’t going to look the same, and they’re totally fine with it. 

The boys are all incredibly handsome men with amazing bodies. They know they have pretty privilege and use it well to woo whatever lady they have their eye on. 

If you're more shy and worried they're just trying to tease or play a mean prank by asking you out (cough totally not speaking from experience cough), they'll subtly use their powers to ease your mind and enjoy the attention they give you. 

If you're more confident, then they boost your ego as high as it'll go. Compliments and flirty touches galore. You live for the attention, and they're more than happy to give it. 

They're a pack so if one of them finds you beautiful, they're all drawn to you. Even if you prefer one boy over the others, you might as well accept the fact that you're pretty much gonna date them all. That's not a problem though. More love to go around. 

Your own personal hype squad! They thrive on making you feel good about yourself. Your joy is their joy, so they will shower you with compliments without even having to be asked. 

They're supportive whether you're more prone to covering up or flaunting some skin. David with his two coats totally understands the former while Dwayne, Paul, and Marko are more for the latter. Either way, they'll be sure to tell you how stunning you look in your outfit (and how it would look even better on your bedroom floor~)

The boys are already very touchy-feely with one another, but they'd be even more handsy with you. An arm around your waist here, a subtle grab at your ass there, they just can't keep their hands off their beautiful lady. 

Each boy has their own unique way of appreciating you and your body. 

David likes putting you in front of mirrors. Even if his own reflection isn't there he'll stand behind you and whisper sweet nothings about the goddess he sees before him. He'll trace his gloved fingers over every curve and make it clear he finds you ravishing. 

Paul loves taking pictures of you. You're his muse and he loves setting you up in stunning poses so he can capture your best angles. He'll praise and cheer you on the whole time, getting you to smile widely. "That's it, sugar! Show off for the camera! You're so hot". He also has a few telescope keychain pictures of you in your birthday suit for his eyes only~

Marko is just as upset as you that plus-size fashion is such a joke. If you're tired of cold shoulder tops and endless floral prints, he offers to be your personal stylist. He knows how to sew, so all it takes is a few measurements from you to make exactly what you want. He knows just how to make the wardrobe of your dreams and help you feel like a fashion icon. 

Dwayne will sweep you off your feet-LITERALLY. If you worry about your weight and size, he'll immediately silence those thoughts by picking you up in his arms. No matter what you're doing or where you are, he'll take the opportunity to lift you up. Sometimes he'll even do it with one hand or lift you onto his shoulders. It always surprises you. If you start worrying about hurting him, he'll shush you and say "you feel like a kitten to me"

They proudly show you off in public. Usually, you're right in the middle of all of them, giggling while holding onto them. Sometimes other girls will give you a thumbs up and an encouraging smile as if to say "you go, girl!"

If anyone is rude to you in any way, they are on the boys' hit list. Anyone is fair game. Rude catcallers on the sidewalk, stuck-up workers at department stores, restaurant-goers who comment on what you order, ANYONE. Even if you don't hear the mean things, they do. And they'll make sure nobody bothers their lady. 

They make a show of loving every single part of your body. Stretch marks are caressed, curves are worshiped and rolls are kissed. They have all the time in the world and will take as long as they please to map out your beautiful body. 

If you like having sex, then be prepared to get your goddamn world rocked. They can lift you into their arms with no issue and have plenty of energy to fuck all night long. They each have their own style of love-making, but all equally ravish you (Paul and Marko especially love the saying "more cushion for the pushin'")

Each boy has their own favorite body part. 

David loves to take your face in his hands and stroke your soft cheeks while making you gaze into his eyes. It lets him appreciate what he’s claimed as his own.

Dwayne adores your thighs and hips. He’ll either rest his head on your lap while spending time with you or grab onto your sides to pull you in close for a kiss. 

Paul is a sucker for your breasts. No matter what they look like, he’s drawn to them like a moth to a flame. He cannot and will not keep his hands off of them. He may even offer to get you a mesh shirt of your own to show off your goods more.

Marko is an ass man. He has no shame. He’ll smack your behind at any goddamn chance he gets. If you’re bending over to pick something up, he’s going in for the kill. If you’re ever on a date with him, his hand is always in your back pocket, giving you a squeeze.

Since you’re not the same size as the boys, you feel sad about not being able to wear their jackets like other girls with their boyfriends. So to make it up to you, the boys each pitch in to help make your own custom jacket. They all add their own flair to it to show you’re their girl. They’ll even add patches with their initials or have the words “Lost Girl” written on the back. 

They’ll also indulge you in wearing those cheesy couples t-shirts from the shops on the boardwalk. The ones that say “If found, return to Y/N” and “I am Y/N”.

If there’s ever a day you’re feeling self-conscious about your body, they’re by your side to help cheer you up. No matter what it is that made you feel such a way, the boys will do anything to put a smile on your face again. They would never make you feel ugly or unwanted. They may be vampires, but they’re not monsters. 

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

Headcanons

List of headcanons I have for Father Paul Hill and being in a relationship with him. Some of these are discarded stories, oops. If anything doesn't make sense and/or the grammar's wonky, I'm sorry, I started writing it last night after I came home from a friend's house, where I was served, uh, spicy beverages.

gif by @hamish-linklater-btc​

Headcanons

✞  Paul is touch starved - while his parents loved him deeply, they never really showed it through hugs or other physical affection other than an embrace on his birthday or when he came home after being gone for some time. Therefore physical contact really gets to him. His friends in seminary used to tease him about it a little every time he got overwhelmed just because they all hugged him shortly each time they saw each other. Always in a good fun though.

His mood though still improves considerably every time someone touches him in a fond kind of manner. Wade's soft slap upon his shoulder, Annie petting his arm in a motherly kind of way, Ed's firm handshake every time they meet and Riley sometimes nudging him with his elbow - it all just brings a wide smile to his face, because he feels loved and accepted.

Most of all though, it's the touches he receives from you - when you put your warm hands on his cheeks to get him to look up at you after he's had a bad day, when you card your fingers through his hair to calm him down, when you hold his hand enthusiastically to lead him somewhere, or nearly shyly, when it's you who requires his comfort. And then later, when you touch him everywhere you can, depending on the situation and company you're in. The comfort of your arms when you hold him close, his head upon your chest, stomach or lap, is overwhelming, even after weeks or months. The first time you held his head close to your own heart, enfolding him in your heavenly presence just to comfort him nearly brought tears to his eyes and he still feels so utterly at peace when you hold him like that.

✞ He's not a total newbie when it comes to cooking. Mind you, he's not winning some telly competition anytime soon, but he can cook some basic meals and is brilliant at following orders. His pancakes and his sandwiches are absolutely to die for.

He likes cooking with you, as it always means flirty banter and a lot of teasing. He gets very playful and as much as you try to chase him off with a spatula because you 'really need to stir the bechamel sauce' , he still always comes back to tease you again. One time you actually managed to nearly ruin a very simple meal and, while still good, you knew you could have done better. "I hope you're happy," you said to him, no hard feelings in your tone. He had the audacity to wink at you, grin and shovel a very big bite into his mouth. "Worth it," he said.

✞ Father Paul could get very mischievous and cheeky, and that was always a lot of fun, but he got very shy too. Everything sexual was a big unknown to him, so you had to guide him quite a bit at first. He had a very healthy appetite, good stamina and was a quick learner but even after a few weeks of the two of you regularly engaging in sexual acts, he still didn't quite know how to go about it when he got in the mood. And did he get in the mood. It really was a little awkward at first, especially when he'd grind his hips into your own and then just sort of stand there with red cheeks and his eyes turned down, as if waiting for his verdict. But then, gradually, it got better.

After some time, he'd get way more daring, making his intention known through sweet talk right against your ear, and really, how could you ever say no? Because once the two of you set your boundaries for things you are willing to try and things you absolutely wouldn't, he was getting better and better each time in bringing you pleasure and making you feel adored. Worshipped even. One does not simply pass up on that.

✞ Ever since he came to Crockett Island, Paul acquired many friends, among his parishioners and outside of them. He's able to share a part of himself with everyone on the island, but it's only you with whom he shares his complete self. Little by little, he'd uncover his life story to you and you'd do the same, keeping no secrets. You'd tell him about your previous boyfriends and why you were no longer with them. And while he was utterly without bodily experience before you came into his life, he never once judged you. The only thing he, selfishly, wished for was that he was your last lover. The final one. That despite all of the circumstances going against you two, you'd be able to spend your lives together. He'd never openly say so, though.

✞ Paul's scalp is sensitive. You'd find out accidentally. Carding your fingers through his soft hair was nothing new to you, but one time you accidentally tugged, as you were in heaps of pleasure. You wouldn't ever forget that; the way his head fell back, even though you only pulled at his hair a little bit. His high pitched moan was forever written in your memory.

✞ Paul adores your voice. It can make him feel all sorts of emotions. When you know he needs comfort and gentleness above everything else, you read to him. Anything really. Be it Lord of the Rings, The Princess Bride or even The Bible itself, as long as you read it to him gently and quietly, he will fall into restful sleep. When a song you know and like starts playing on the radio (or record player), you sing. And he wants to dance. And he sings too. He doesn't really dance that well, and sometimes his tones are vastly different from the music, but you still love to hear him sing and dance with him. And he utterly adores hearing you sing - even if your tones are sometimes even more different than his own. And when you talk about your interests and your knowledge on them, he just listens, awed with the entirety of you. His idea of heaven now is with his head in your lap, your fingers combing through his hair, while you talk to him softly, burning love accompanying your every word.

✞ He’s got a bit of a problem with the secrecy of your relationship. While he's perfectly aware that he's risking his entire career by being 'too close' to you, he simply cannot help himself. During the summer and, more importantly, the "Great Crockpot Barbecue Party" he was absolutely seen holding your hand more often than not. He wouldn't openly tell anyone, but sometimes he simply cannot pretend you're just one of his parishioners.

However, later in the evening, when everyone's had a few drinks and they're no longer "reliable witnesses", he'd dance with you. In front of everyone still there. Then he's able to whisper into your ear and kiss you soundly without anyone else left really noticing him doing so. You'd always remember your first slow dance; Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby, by Cigarettes After Sex

Back then, the two of you were attending Erin's party, only a few short weeks before she was to give birth to her daughter. The window was open and you could hear her conversation with Riley Flynn.

"So you found them? What are they doing?... Wait, I don't actually wanna know."

"They're just slow dancing," Erin replied. "Kissing a little bit maybe…. They're doing out there what everyone else does here." If Erin said anything else after that was unknown to you, as you were way too preoccupied by engaging the priest's tongue in a battle for dominance outside.

✞ He's got a taste for hot cider on cold, stormy nights. Combine that, lots and lots of candles and a good book and you've got a happy priest. Best enjoyed in a pillow fort you built in your living room, just for the fun of it.

✞ Paul has the opposite of a green thumb. He cannot keep a plant alive, not even the 'unkillable' plants. He'd either water it too little, or too much, or he'd forget about it and then attempt to fix the damage by pouring an entire pitcher of water into the pot. Everytime he actually bought a house plant with the intention to 'do it right this time', he ended up bitterly throwing the yellowed remains with rotten roots into the trash.

✞ He's not that much of a morning person. Of course, his day starts early as he's got mass to serve, but on the rare occasions he's got a free day there's no getting him out of bed before 11. And now that he's got a deliciously warm soft body next to him in bed, it's even harder to leave.

✞ The priest is ticklish, particularly on his sides and feet. You noticed once that he shied away from you when you stroked down the sides of his torso with just your fingers. When you asked him if he was ticklish, and he (naively) not only said that he was and even told you where, you gained a new hobby - tickling the poor man until he was tearing up from laughter. The best things in life really are free.

Hi, i hope that wasn’t too terrible. If you wanna, you can check this thing and the entire series out on AO3 I live and breathe and write for reviews <333

[prettywhenibleed]

𝕶𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖄𝖔𝖚 (Kill For You)

Pt 3

Fem!Reader x Paul

TW: Mentions of abuse, some kissy kissy but nothing NSFW

Paul and I walked in comfortable silence as we made our way to the others. He had assured me that they weren't that far away, so we got to them pretty quickly. I was immediately greeted by Marko pulling me into a hug, lifting me up off of the ground for a moment, before placing me back onto my feet. "Hey y/n!" He said with a wide grin. Clearly pretty happy to see me. "Hey back at you Marko." I gave him a look of surprise. "You're pretty strong, you know that." I pointed out. I mean... I wasn't particularly heavy, but Marko was a good few inches shorter than me. I don’t know. I just wasn't expecting that I guess. Marko shared a look with the others, like my words had some sort of hidden meaning to them that I wasn't aware of, and they found it hilarious. "Yeah. I guess you could say that babe." He said in a nonchalant kind of way and started to, no so subtly, flex. It was pretty funny to see him to those bodybuilder flexing poses. After a minute or so of this, Paul decided to butt in and I guess show off his muscles too? "Nah my muscles are way bigger than his sugar!! I’m way stronger too! Check it out!" Paul announced and proceeded to pose like Marko was. They both had me dying from laughter. Tears in eyes, stomach hurting kind of laughter. "Okay okay! Please, stop.. I'm in pain." I begged through my laughter and tears while still holding my sides. Marko and Paul just laughed and grinned at each other. 

Paul grabbed me, wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. "Want me to kiss it better?" He asked with a smirk and a wink, referring to my stomach. I just rolled my eyes and lightly slapped his chest with a small laugh. Looking up at him with a smile. God, his eyes are so beautiful. HE is so beautiful. The way he was looking at me right now. The sweet, flirty smile. His eyes, that looked like they held so much love right now. We just stood there, staring at and holding each other. It's like we were trapped like that. The boardwalk and everything, everyone on it, just melting away. Slowly, our faces started to move closer and closer to each other, closing the gap between our wanting lips. It's like we both felt this pull to each other that we couldn't resist. As soon as his lips met mine it was like nothing else in the world mattered. Paul's lips were cold and soft. The kiss was slow and sweet but it was also passionate and needy. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my hands found their way into his messy blonde hair. Paul using this to pull me even closer into him, one of his hands traveling down to eventually find it's place on my hip. "Get a damn room you two!" Marko cackled, making fake gagging sounds, pulling Paul and I out of our little daze and back into reality. We pulled away slightly, I slid my hands down to rest on his chest as we rested our foreheads together. Paul let out a chuckle. "Shut up Marko. You're just mad you don't have a babe of your own to make out with." He teased his brother, still looking into my eyes. "Alright, both of you idiots shut up." David interjected, rolling his eyes. Dwayne was just looking between the group with an amused look on his face. Paul pulled away and grabbed my hand. "Come on sugar, lets go ride the roller-coaster then play some games. I wanna win you something." He suggested, already starting to pull me along with him. "Okay, sounds like fun." I said with a smile. "See you guys later." I told the others with a wave. I heard Marko shout before we got too far away. “He sucks at winning those games y/n!” 

Paul and I walked hand in hand to the roller-coaster. As we got in line, he moved to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around me and rested his chin on my head. I leaned into him, enjoying the closeness. "You excited y/n?" He asked, giving my waist a quick squeeze. I bit my lip nervously. I have never been on a roller-coaster before... Any ride really. So I was pretty nervous to go on it. "I've uhh. I’ve never actually been on a roller-coaster before." I confessed in a shy and slightly embarrassed voice. Paul moved his head from it's place on top of mine, and looked at me. An obvious shocked expression took over his face but was quickly replaced by teasing grin. "You afraid of heights or something y/n?" He teased. I laughed and shook my head. "No. I just never went on one. Never really had friends to go anywhere with and well, going anywhere with my parents is totally out of the question." I informed him. Paul shrugged and gave me a kiss on the cheek before his head returned to it's place on top of mine. "Good to know I'll be your first then sugar." I snorted at the double meaning of his words. "Funny." I told him as I heard him laugh to himself. "I didn't say anything." He said, acting innocent. Before long, we had made it to the front of the line and were getting onto the ride. As we were being secured into our seats, I grabbed Pauls hand. He brought my hand to his lips, giving it a quick kiss before bringing it back down. "Don't worry babe, I got you." He said, trying to calm my racing heart. Paul thought it was adorable they way you grabbed his hand for comfort. It made him feel good knowing that he could be the one that you turn to for comfort when you needed it. Even if it was just because you were nervous about riding a rollercoaster. 

To say I screamed my head off, first out of fear but then fun, would be an understatement. By the time the coaster had come to a stop and we were getting off, Paul was laughing his head off. "Hey! Don't laugh you ass." I said through the smile that was plastered on my face. "I'm sorry sugar pie. It's just, you're face and the way you were screaming. I can't help it. "He said, his own smile plastered on his face. "You had fun though, right babe?" He asked, wrapping his arm around my waist. I leaned into his side and nodded. "Yeah, I had a lot of fun." I said looking up at him. God. The smile you had on your face and the way you were looking at him, was almost enough to make Paul's heart start beating again. Suddenly, he felt nervous, worried. No, he was terrified. He would, at some point, have to tell you about him. About the others and what they were. He was terrified that, once you found out, you would run away screaming. If that happened, Paul's heart would be absolutely shattered. He shuddered at the thought of losing you. "Hey. You okay Paul? You went kinda silent on me there." You asked him worriedly. "Yeah, I'm good. Just wondering what game to play. Gotta win you that prize, remember." He said with a smile, pulling you closer to him. You looked at him for a moment. You could tell that there was something actually bothering him, but you didn't want to force him to talk about something that he didn't want to. So, you just returned his smile and suggested a game to him. 

You two walked back to the group, you with your prize Paul had won you in hand and a big grin on your face. It was a cute lion plushie that reminded you of Paul, with it's messy mane of hair. "I thought you sucked at those games." David said with a smirk as soon as he saw the toy I was holding. "Shut up man. I don't suck." Paul said trying to defend himself. Truthfully, it had actually taken Paul quite a few go's to win it. I tried to help Paul out by lying and telling David and the others that Paul had won it on his first try. "I'll have you know, Paul won it first go." I said, before turning my head to look at Paul with a grin. He grinned back and turned back to David. "See! I rock, you suck!" Marko snorted and Dwayne laughed along too. David just rolled his eyes before pulling a cigarette from behind his ear and lit it. We all just hung out around the bikes for a couple more hours before I decided that I should probably go home. I didn't want a repeat of what happened earlier today. I turned to Paul, who was talking to Marko about something. "Uh Paul.. Do you think you could take me home? It's getting late and my parents will be upset if I'm out too much longer." I asked. "Aw but it's not even midnight babe!" Paul whined. I laughed at Paul and pet his head as he grabbed me, burying his face into the crook of my neck. "It's okay Paul. I'll see you tomorrow." I reassured him. "You're such a baby, dude." Marko teased Paul. "AM NOT!" Paul retorted. His voice muffled in my neck. "You literally sound like a child right now, Paul." Dwayne told him with a chuckle. I just laughed at that.. I mean, he's not wrong. It's not the most adult way to respond to being called a baby. "Hey! You're supposed to be on my side babe." Paul said, offended that I would laugh at him being called a baby. "I'm sorry Paul, it's just.. That's exactly how a baby would respond." I teased him. I guess that was a bad idea, because I was promptly swept off of my feet and thrown over Paul's shoulder as he walked off with me... "Paul! Put me down!" I shout through laughter. "Not until you say you're sorry!" He demanded, laughing at me trying to squirm out of his arms. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry!" I conceded. He puts me back down and grins at me. 

Eventually, I get him to take me home. He parks a few houses down from mine, much like he did last night. We get off of his bike and he wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a hug, which I immediately accept, resting my head on his chest. We stay like that for a few minutes before pulling away. "Gonna miss me sugar?" Paul asks with a teasing smirk. I brought my arms up and wrapped them around his neck. “Maybe.” I say before pulling him in for a kiss. Our lips met, and again, the world melts away. Paul's hands find their way to my hips and he gives them a gentle squeeze. He starts to trail the kisses from my mouth, along my jaw and down to my neck. It felt so good I didn't want to stop him, but unfortunately I had to. "Paul. As much as I'm enjoying this, We have to stop." I told him in a whisper, my eyes still closed and my fingers tangled in his hair. I felt him smile against my skin before he slowly pulled away. "We could always take this up to your room sugar." He suggested in a flirty tone. Seeing the way he was looking at me right now, made me shiver in the best way possible. I wanted, more than anything, to bring him up to my room. Let him make me feel things I've never felt before, positive that he could and would. The feeling of his hands roaming my body, touching parts of me that nobody had ever touched before. But I couldn't. my parents would probably kill him, and then kill me. Sadly, I'm not exaggerating. I laid my hand on Paul's chest and smiled up at him. "Sorry Romeo, no can do. My parents are home and if they catch me with a boy in my room... Well, it wont be pretty." I told him. "All good sugar pie. There's always next time." He said with a smile and a wink, mounting his bike. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him. He handed me my plushie take he had somehow managed to stuff into one of his pockets in his coat. “Thanks.” I said as I took it from him with a giggle. "Goodnight Paul." I said as I looked back up to him from the toy and used it’s little arm to wave to Paul. He laughed and imitated the wave. "Night y/n. I'll pick you up tomorrow night, okay. Same time." He informed me. I just nodded in response and turned around and started making my way back to my house. I heard Paul's bike start up and drive away. I turned my head just in time to see bike disappear down the street.

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