#anyway sorry to my lovely friends who are from new york but FUCK this guy

[north-wilkesboro-moonshine-cave]

i think the most telling part about my sports fandom behavior is that earlier today i said despite me not actually really giving a fuck about the devs and also being Very Queer i am fully ready to act like a die hard devs fan who would absolutely run a hughes brothers thirst twt account SOLELY to fuck with a single guy i can't stand in my graduate program whos from new york but doesnt even like sports

[86espresso]

secrets i have held in my heart, are harder to hide than i thought ✯ jh86

sum: “I really like you.” *looks around* “are you sure-”

// jack x med student

warnings: 18+, oral (f & m receiving), mentions of familial neglect, cursing, kissing, stress, anxiety, doubt, pet tigers, jack thinking too hard, reader is insecure don’t know what for 💔, overuse of commas because im insane, happy ending, a lil too sappy (i say this with emphasis), i mean it there’s a whole lotta CHEESE, mostly fluff, very emotional and hearty pls im sorry im a lover. afab!reader w/ she/her pronouns :)

w/c; 7.6k

a/n: hey so yeah. wtf. the word count?? i had so much fun writing this. half scared that its boring. i love simp / munch jack. ps: as queen as y/n is, i gave reader a nickname, sorry. (a very … unique nickname. i myself am puzzled as to how my brain works) enjoy. or at least try to. under the cut !

THE library was unsurprisingly almost empty considering the fact that no sane person would want to step outside in this rainstorm, so you were content in studying organic chemistry in the very back, alone with your thoughts, your textbooks, folklore by Taylor Swift, and now a guy. Who decided that he will break the silence in the almost empty library.

You were in your world, as always, not really connecting or associating with things around you but the ruckus of the someone knocking over an umbrella stand and profusely apologizing to apparently no one made you lift your head up. You smile slightly before going back to your work, barely registering your surroundings. 

Sure, Jack was entirely focused on his friends, studies, and hockey back in high school, but he was an expert at faces and names and could jot down absolutely anyone that he knows he’s seen before. He knew exactly who the girl with dark circles and way-too-oversized hoodie in the back was. 

At least five minutes later, Jack started hovering near your spot, which was the romance aisle. You sneak a glance at him and take note of his athletic shorts and New York Giants hoodie and quickly denote that this man was definitely not the romance novel type (or maybe book type at all). After flipping mindlessly through another book he lets out a soft “fuck it” before turning to face you completely. 

You can’t help but crack a smile at his jump when he saw that you had already been staring at him with wide, voidfull eyes. 

A pause. You staring at him. Him staring at you. He cracks a dopey smile, blinding you with his paper white teeth, and pulls up a chair in front of you. 

“What’s up, Dee?” He asks holding his hand up for a dap. Bewildered at how this complete stranger knows your nickname amongst close friends (from when you gracefully told people that ‘the bags under your eyes are Dior’), you dap him back anyway and blurt, “I have never seen you before.”

“You went to my high school. We worked in a project in like, AP World I think? I dunno. But I remember you saved my grade that whole year.”

Your mind remains blank. You saved a lot of people’s grades. 

“My only high school memories are countless APs, pain, suffering, studying and depression.” 

Most people would blanch at your dreamy straightforwardness, but Jack just grinned again. 

“Yeah, I remember you were always tired but also really funny. And tired. Deja Vu, man, watching you sit here, laser focused on your books. I was on the hockey team, if that helps.”

I furrow my brows, thinking hard. 

“I do remember that our hockey guys were really good. They would announce their names like every day on the speakers because they won all the time.” 

Jack groans at the memory. He was well known but it was just uncomfortable having your last names called out where the whole school could hear. 

You laugh at his reaction. “They would call the same names over and over. I don’t know if it was you who used to hide your face every time they did it but yeah.”

Jack perked up. “Yeah that was me.” 

You take a moment to admire his boyish facial features and athletic build. He’s pretty. 

‘Don’t even think about it’ pretty. 

“Dang. You were like a superstar. Sorry I don’t remember much. I’m like, walking jet lag.” 

He laughs a typical frat boy laugh (if that makes sense) and you like it. You want to hear it again. 

“So, what are you doing out here? Never pegged you for a big city girl.” 

“I go to college here.”

“Damn, we should’ve met sooner. My name is Jack, by the way.” 

“My friends call me Dee, but I guess you knew that.”

You were left pondering as to why a hockey player from high school was even anticipating meeting you; people only approached you for notes and the occasional party invitation back then.

“So, uh- what about you? Make it big in the league thingy yet?” 

He breaths a laugh. “You could say that.”

“Who do you play for?” 

“New Jersey.”

“Prudential, isn’t it? That’s close by my apartment.” I say in thought. 

Jack grins. “Really? We might bump into each other often, then.” 

He looks genuinely excited. 

Why. 

What’s going on. 

You chat for a few more minutes but it’s mostly you saying out of pocket things and Jack laughing instead of side-eyeing you and walking away. You were surprised at his effortless kindness. 

“Phone.”

“Hm?”

“Or Snap? Whatever you feel like is best,” he says, pulling out his phone. It takes a second to register that he’s implying that you exchange contact information. 

“Don’t really use Snapchat. I kinda have too much on my plate right now.” You hand over your phone. 

“You always overwork yourself, you should be at the club. You’ll die on the inside.” 

“Nothing I can’t handle, I hope.”

You just need to push through and never ever have fun.

He checks the time and sighs. 

“I was just here to return a book but I gotta head back. Flight for a roadie takes off in a couple hours. I’ll be back in, like, four days? I hope to see you around then?” 

You match his soft smile and nod, whatever roadie means but okay. It was actually nice, wasting some valuable study time for a potential friend. He’s cool. 

“Yeah. See you.” You offer and huff a laugh as he reaches out to dap you up again. 

That night, after yet another long and winding day with the only highlight being meeting someone who was apparently a high school acquaintance, you decide to look him up. Surprised at the absolute famethat this man had loaded, your lips parting at every detail, you click on his instagram and officially unhinge your jaw. 

500k followers? 

You’re never on insta but that can’t be good. 

The shock of how you basically were bonding with someone who definitely downplayed how famous he was didn’t wear off a week later; he texted you quite often and you tried to text back without seeming dry. 

It was nearly a week later when he offered to meet up again. 

-> two questions

babies come from the baby store.

-> wtf 

sorry. ask away !

-> 1. are you at the library rn

do you still like the caramel frappe from dunkin

yes. and yes. what the hell are you doing. 

-> something nice. see u soon angel. 

angel is wild when I look like I snuck on this earth but thanks for that anyways. you’re very kind :))

-> kind enough to tell you to that you’re really pretty :))

*reacted with heart emoji*

You check your forehead temperature to make sure you hadn’t just imagined the whole conversation. 

It wasn’t long before Jack was strutting into the library with two dunkin’ shakes in his hands accompanied by his gorgeous smile when he spotted you in the back, once again. 

“You’re wearing glasses today.” He says when you look up at his outstretched hand. You reach forward with a grateful smile, and deja vu hits you hard. The same exact scene playing out in high school when he had asked everyone in some group project their favorite drinks and treated them when they all got an A. 

“I remember you,” you say as he flopped on the bean bag next to you with his own drink. 

“Yeah? I knew you would. You’re too smart.” He says, again dazzling you with his perfect smile as he lifts two fingers to tap your temple softly to emphasize his point. It’s a challenge to tear your eyes away from his baby blues. 

“Your eyes are so blue. It’s distracting.” 

Jack’s eyes widen at your unintentional rebuttal at his subtle flirting, and he smirks. He knew that you weren’t aware that you were being flirted with the past week; what you lacked in emotional and social intelligence was shadowed by your sharpness in academics. 

“Hey, you didn’t tell me you were a really big deal around here? Everyone knows you and you have like a million followers.”

“Stalking me?” 

“Educating myself.”

Jack laughs and throws as arm around you to peer over your shoulder. 

“Well, I don’t just go around telling people how good I am. So, whatcha doing?” 

The contact makes you freeze up and once again the surreality of a man wanting to spend time with you disorients you a little bit.

“Watching porn.” 

Jack laughs again and earns a stern look from the clerk down the aisle. 

“I’m studying anatomy.”

“Yeah, didn’t suspect any less than med school for your smartass.” 

You turn to him to talk back but his face was inches away from you and that sets off alarm bells throughout your body. You’ve had your fair share of guys and girls but there was not a single string attached and the short flings were easy to forget. 

But having someone that pretty, that close to you, not showing exactly what intentions he had? That caused your anxiety to spike. Positively. 

“Your face is really close.” You simply state, pushing your large frames higher up your nose. 

“And yours is really red.” 

You immediately press your hands against your cheeks and groan at what you picture your face looks like. Jack just giggles again and pulls your hands away. 

“It’s cute.” 

His hands are still on your wrists. 

“It really isn’t, but thank you. You’re very kind.”

There’s a beat of silence where you can see the gears in his head turning. 

“Do you like aquariums?”

You surprise yourself and Jack when you pull him into a hug as a greeting outside the aquarium.

The feel of your chests touching with little fabric in between set Jack’s heart off racing and the way your curves dipped at your hips had him pulling at his collar. 

But most of all, when he pulled back from the hug, he noticed you were wearing shorts that had your legs all out for him to ogle over. 

“You hidin’ all that?” He scans your figure, noting the dark, low cut, full sleeve top. 

“What? All this?” You say as you push your tits together. “There’s not much to hide.”

Jack’s throat runs dry. Unfortunately for him, he’s still a guy and tits still make him drool. And the fact that you had no idea you were keeping him on his toes 

“Be for real.” He rolls his eyes. “How’d your day go?” 

“Nice, actually. I just took Nala for a walk and-“ you cut yourself off. 

“I didn’t know you had a pet? Can I see her? I love anim-“

“She’s a tiger.” 

You give him more and more reasons everyday as to why him hanging out with you was unethical and strange but he seemed to keep on staying. Studying you as if intrigued by your strangeness. 

“You- have a pet..tiger?” 

Yeah. I’ve done it.

“I- yeah.” 

It seems like all Jack ever does is grin because he’s doing it again and flinging an arm around your shoulder as he starts to walk with you. 

“Oh, Dee. There’s just so much to learn and love about you.” 

It takes you a second to react. 

“That may be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“You serious?” 

“Yeah. Well, cause I was ugly growing up, and people always thought I was strange. It’s hard to imagine that people are genuinely interested in any sort of friendship with me.” 

Jacks fingertips on your bare collarbone, his cologne and aftershave, his figure pressed against your side; all of it was overtaking your senses.  

“Baby, why do you think I walked up to you that day in the first place? You may not remember much but I do. You were so kind and honest. And so intriguing. And hardworking. And pretty. I think your dark circles are hot.” 

You huff out a laugh and ignore the flutter in your chest at ‘baby’. 

Jack looks down at you with a gaze that he can’t pinpoint. You’re just very, very endearing to him. He needs to show you all kinds of fun so you laugh like that again. 

“You smell nice.” You say and hesitate before loosening yourself against him more. He hums at the increased contact and at your compliment, smiling against your hair. 

“Thank you.” 

To say you had the absolute time of your life at the aquarium was an understatement. Jack got to see a side of you that loved fun, that was carefree, and didn’t have that goddamn crease in your eyebrows. You were the one pulling him around, telling him you wanted to be a marine biologist as a kid and that you recognize most of the species. Jack made sure to snap a few pictures of you when you weren’t looking, the lightning shaped twinkle in your eyes a memory he wanted to keep forever. 

Later that day, Jack drove you back to your apartment, mentally noting that you were about a fifteen minute drive from his place. 

“Nala?” You coo out softly as you push open the door and drag Jack inside, not giving him the chance to protest. Jack looks around at your apartment. It’s small and messy, but organized in some places. He jumps and lets out a brief scream when a fucking tiger is bounding towards you at full speed and knocking you over with a hug. You laugh as your beloved Nala starts licking up your face and you both roll on the floor. 

Jack’s breathing calms a little as he remembers who owns the tiger. 

“I’ll put her away for now.” You say, reading Jack’s skepticism. He sighed in relief. 

“Oh good. Because as much as you reassured me and as man as I am, she’s still a tiger.” You giggle at his words and guide Nala towards her room. 

The sound makes Jack smile stupidly. His heart stutters and he wants to put your little laugh on replay. He can’t believe that a girl who stated random medical facts at any time, who lost sleep because ‘she just forgot that it’s important’, who barely remembered him from a while ago even though he remembered everything, who waves at planes as they fly overhead, who didn’t know shit about the sport he played, had him wrapped tightly around her finger. 

He takes a moment to observe your apartment. The stacks of medical related books that he doesn’t want to and never will understand, the old record player sitting in the corner of the kitchen, a huge jar of nutella on the coffee table, a questionable fluffy purple blanket on your sofa. Just little things that made you all the more real to him. 

And he still wants to know more. He wants to know your sleep schedule so he knows that you’re getting enough sleep and when to text or call, he wants to know what you dream of, he wants to know your passions besides studying, he wants to know what made you become so numb and detached, how you still managed to have a twinkle in your eye when you experienced emotion. 

But, as he leans to the counter for support at his racing mind and as you enter the room, still clad in your godforsaken low cut top and curve-hugging shorts, he most of all wants to know what you are like, what your lips would feel like molded against his, how you’d moan or whimper at his touch. He’s still leaning against the counter as he recalls when you unabashedly pushed your tits together just hours ago. 

“You alright?” You ask, but you yourself seemed to have distressed eyebrow lines. 

“Uh? Oh yeah. I was just.” He gestures around your apartment. “Observing.” 

You nod, still lost in thought. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, not liking the stress in your body language. 

“Yeah. It’s just, I have two projects due next week and I’ve been studying for something else so I completely forgot about them.” You frown, feeling tears pool in your eyes. You can’t cry in front of Jack. If everything else didn’t make him abandon you, then this would. 

“Woah. Hey, hey.” Jack is by your side immediately. He feels guilty for thinking of you sinfully while you were in distress but he really couldn’t help it. You blink back the tears and shrug it off. 

“It gets kind of a lot sometimes, y’know?” Jack follows you to the couch and sits next to you, immediately taking your hands in his and pulling your legs onto his lap. You gave up on keeping your cool when he does that and give him a bewildered expression. Being taken care of is so strange. 

“And? Go on, baby.” He smiles softly and encouragingly, dropping one of your hands to hold your chin for a moment before grabbing your hand again. 

You blink. 

“Well, It’s probably not as much as I’m stressing it out to be. I’m about to abuse substances.” 

“Now don’t do that. There’s lots of ways to destress yourself.” Jack’s hand wanders again, resting on your bare knee. His movements are soft and gentle, but they still cause a foreign spark through your body. You dryly cough before registering his words and looking at Jack’s hand that had inched higher by the slightest. 

“Is this flirting?” Rushed out of your mouth and Jack chuckles, a normal sound but an octave lower. 

“Sure is, baby. You’re learning fast.” He’s staring your eyes down, and all of a sudden he’s consuming your senses again. His cologne is still there, his insane blues are glued to yours, his deep breathing is signifying his increasing heart rate. His hand inches higher as he moves closer. 

“Why don’t I just,” shrug, “eat you out? ‘S a better high than drugs-” His phone buzzes in his pocket. 

Jack huffs and pulls away, leaving your insides churning at the his lingering touch and words??? The implication alone, the images conjuring in your head were nothing short of filthy. 

He scowls as he takes the call, muttering something about how it’s his agent and he’ll get in trouble if he doesn’t answer. His responses are curt and his expression neutral, but his hand is gripping your thigh with intensity. As he hangs up the call and tosses his phone aside, his hand is almost at your inner thigh and he maneuvers himself to be directly on his knees on the floor in front of you. 

The sudden movement and his face looking up at yours between your slightly parted legs has your pussy throbbing. It’s been weeks since you were.. in this particular position with someone and god did it feel nice that it was the finest man in world to unpause your sex life. 

He leans up to be face level with you. “Do you trust me, baby?” You never noticed how sultry his natural voice was. 

His eyes search yours for any kind of discomfort as his hand reaches forward to cup your cheek. You nod in conformation as he moves closer. 

Your breath hitches as he presses his lips to your cheek, dangerously close to your mouth. It confuses you slightly as to why he didn’t just kiss you but both of his hands on your waistband distracts you. 

“Can I take these off?” He questions and you nod once again, not trusting your voice. 

He’s doing everything in slow motion and you think it alludes to your sensitivity earlier, but anticipation and his hands cloud everything in your mind. 

What kind of guy just? offers to eat you out? to help you destress? 

Your shorts are discarded and the exposure doesn’t bother you. Sure your heart would be thudding either way, but Jack made you feel different. No anxiety in the sense that he would judge you or harm you or hurt your feelings.

“Hm, these are cute.” Jack’s thumb fingers over the lining of your underwear. 

You feel yourself flush. 

“Thanks.” Is your quiet response. 

“Relax, baby. This is for you to unwind, not to get nervous. Focus on how you’re feeling,”   Jack instructs as his finger ghosted over your clothed cunt. Your teeth nibble on your bottom lip as you push your hips closer to his hand. 

He smirks at your eagerness and gives in, entirely pushing his thumb against your clit through your panties. 

His thumb moves slowly but firmly back and forth as he gauges your reaction. Finding the right spots where your stomach clenches or your eyebrows knit together. 

“More.” You muster as you open your eyes to look down at Jack who was already moving to take your damp panties off. Once again, slowly. He groans as he sees you glistening for him and starts kissing up your thigh. 

“You have a pretty face.” 

Jack grins up at your compliment while peppering feather light kisses on your inner thighs. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The anticipation pools in your lower stomach as Jack breaks eye contact with you to admire your delicacy in front of him. He uses the same thumb to rub through your folds and reach higher to circle your clit. The stimulation has you moaning softly and the sound has Jack’s cock twitching in his shorts. 

“I- hurry.” You huff in slight annoyance, wanting more besides the slow circles. Jack smirks against your thigh and removes his thumb so he could move forward lick a stripe through your folds. 

Your knuckles get white gripping the pillow,  itching to hold his hair instead as his eyes flicker between yours and your pussy. Jack notices your hand on the pillow and guide it to his hair while sucking and licking your cunt. He parts away for a second to catch his breath before making slow and languid motions with his tongue on your clit. 

You grip his hair, hard. Jack grunts against you and loses a shred of control as he pulls your legs apart further to dive further in. You let out a startled breath at the sudden movement and pull on his hair more as he shakes his head deeper while still staring up at you. 

“Jack..” you breathe out, but it comes out as more of a whimper that makes him hum against you and a spark run through his body. He pulls away and inserts his middle and ring finger through your slick and pumps shortly before curling his fingers. You heave a breath and moan at the feeling while Jack stares up at you in awe. 

“You’re everything.” He says more to himself than you, as he watches you writhe and whimper at his fingers while holding the eye contact. He connects his lips with your clit again and suctions in a way that has your back arching and your moans getting louder and more high pitched with each type of attention Jack gives to your pussy. 

He switched his fingers and mouth and rubs your clit as he laps up your arousal as he feels you getting close. He takes that moment to switch back and locks eyes with you as his dark pink, wet lips attach to your clit again, softly sucking you closer to your tipping point.

“Oh, f-fuck I’m-“  

Your eyebrows knit and your eyes roll back at the sensations of his mouth and tongue and fingers and gaze. 

You spasm around his fingers and moan louder while Jack’s fingers guide you through your release. He licks up whatever he can before sitting and wiping his face with the back of his hand as you stare at him with hooded and tired eyes. 

“Feel better?” He has the nerve to ask as he runs a wet wipe up and between your legs. 

When did he even get that?

Your leg twitches in sensitivity after he’s finished. 

“Mm better.” Was all you could muster. All you wanted was to sleep and dream for days. 

Jack laughs softly at your state and checks the time. 

“I’ll need to head out soon. Team dinner.” He says as he fits another pair of underwear on you. You feel a pang in your chest and anxiety creeps up your spine, but Jack immediately shuts your thoughts down. 

“Hey, this doesn’t mean I’ll abandon you or anything. I’m goin’ cause I have to and I would take you but you look like you could use a nap. We can hang tomorrow?” He’s so soft and caring with you, cupping your cheek and smoothing his thumb over it. 

“Yeah okay.” You say and watch as he gets up, not before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“I won’t go anywhere, baby.” 

After the team dinner, when Jack got home and shut the door to his apartment, the first thing he did was call his older brother. Quinn was just the slightest, itty-bittiest bit more fortunate with girls, so Jack naturally went to him for tips here and there. 

A few minutes into the call, they exchanged formalities and talked about each others’ seasons before Quinn cut to the chase. 

“So? Is it a girl?”

Jack blanched. 

“I- well yes, but it’s different this time. Swear.”

“You say that every-time. But it does sound like it might be different.”

“Do you remember Dee from high school?”

“I don’t remember anything from high school.” Is it really that common to forget four years of your life?

“Yeah well. I met her again a few weeks ago. She was the one who used to take all the APs and she graduated early? She was like always tired and kinda funny. And she’s pretty. Like the natural kind of pretty. You’d look at her and want to give up the world for her kind of pretty. I don’t know.” Quinn listened quietly, detecting the hint of fear in Jack’s voice. 

“I might be, like obsessed with her. I think she knows.”

“Wait, wait, wait. She knows? That you like her? And you’re not together yet?” Jack didn’t deny it when he said that he liked her. 

“I-yes? I think so. She might be into me too and we did a thing earlier today and she flirts with me without even thinking about it? That’s gotta mean something right?”

“You did things with her?!She flirts with you?! Do something. But take it slow. She probably still wonders why you even give her the time of day. She likes you but she doesn’t know it yet.” Hearing his older brother say it untightened his chest. 

“I was going to kiss her but I really wanted to things slow with her. She’s been through a bit and, I don’t know, I want to treat her special.” He’s glad that he has a person he can say the cringiest shit to. If it was anyone else on the other line, he would get toasted for the rest of his life. Jack wore his heart on his sleeve and was smart at reading people and their emotions. But sometimes he was just clueless on what to do with that knowledge. 

We can hang tomorrow. 

Who the fuck says that after going down on someone. 

Jack didn’t text you that night.

Or the next morning. 

You started panicking slightly when you come home from classes. 

That had to have been the last straw for him. 

He’s a fucking superstar, he lives in the New York City area, where all the pretty models and blue eyed blondes live. Why the hell would he go for a tired med student from his home state who didn’t care about herself enough to care for him?

Your mind runs a marathon as the elevator doors open to your floor. But when you approach your apartment, Jack is sitting on the floor next to door, scrolling on his phone. 

You freeze and stare blankly as he realizes that you’re here.

He perks up and walks over to you pulling you into a light hug. 

“Hey, Dee. How were classes?”

“Good. Thanks for asking.” You reply, hesitantly wrapping your arms back around him. You weren’t hugged a lot as a kid or growing up. You’ve hugged more in the last two weeks than you have in your entire life. 

“I have a game later today. Wanna come? The other team…isn’t that good. We might win. Unless you have work to do. Or if you just don’t want to go that’s okay too. Or-“ he cuts off when you press a finger against his lips. 

“I’d love to go. I finished a lot of my work during classes.” You smile removing your fingers, relaxing in his arms. “When is it?” 

“At 7. I’ll pick you up, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

You both just stand there for a minute before you remember social cues. 

“So, come in? I’m hungry as fuck. We should eat.” You say pushing the door open, petting Nala as you walk in and Jack followed. He smiles at your awkwardness and accepts. 

Your look is acceptable. Hair clutched back, light makeup, hoodie and sweats is your go-to anyway. Plus, you’re always cold. 

You arrive at around quarter to seven and with the help of signs make your way to the lounge that Jack gave you a pass to. 

There’s a guard at the door that held his hand out for the pass and when you gave it to him he eyed you wearily. 

“You’re Hughes’ girl? Where did you get this?”

“Jack gave it to me.” 

“Uh huh.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “So can I go in?” 

“Sweetheart, Jack has only ever invited two other girls here and I can tell you right now, you’re not the third. Who gave you this pass?” 

The mention of Jack bringing other girls here makes you absolutely sick to your stomach. 

You might vomit. 

But anger bubbles up your throat and you’re about to press your finger into the guards chest and give him a piece of your mind, when there’s a patter of feet and an excited “Dee!” coming from your left. 

Jack has you in his arms already before you could register it. He tucks you into his shoulder, presses his lips against your temple, lingering, and faces the guard. 

“Was there a problem?” The guards mouth hangs open and flickers between the two of you. 

“None at all.” He opens the door and lets the two of you in. After he shuts the door and turns face you, you take a second to admire him. 

He’s dressed in his game jersey, shoulder pads and everything; except for his skates. 

He looks really good. 

“You look really good.” 

Silence. 

“Are you blushing?” 

Jack pulls you into his chest so you don’t see more of the pink adorning his cheeks. 

“Am not,” he mutters above your head and you giggle as you try to untangle from his grasp. 

You pull back and notice that he still has a tint on his cheeks. He holds your face for a moment, admiring every feature. Going from eye to eye, the slope of your nose, the dimple digging into your left cheek, a beauty mark on your chin, your lips. 

You feel your breath quickening when his thumb grazes your cheek and his eyes linger on your lips a little longer. 

A sharp knock on the door interrupted the two of you. 

“Warm ups in two!”

Jack sighed and looked back at you. 

“I need to go. You can watch from here.” He led you further into the room and you could hear the crowd getting louder as you got closer. He led you to a balcony where there were a few other people, and pecked your cheek before going back. 

The game starts and you’re more clueless that you thought you’d be. The puck was way too small and you didn’t bring your glasses, but you remember Jack telling you that he was ‘86’, so you tried to follow wherever he was. 

The girl next to you strikes up a conversation which you cautiously tread with, but you warm up soon. She tells you that she’s dating someone on the team. 

“Woah. That must be cool.” She looks confused. 

“Aren’t you Jack’s girl?”

“No? We’re friends. I think. He’s really nice to me.” Your new friend blinks before talking again. 

“He really likes you though, and you look like you really like him.” 

“Well of course I do. He treats me really well.” 

“Oh, babe. No. He like likes you. My boyfriend told me he talks about you all the time.” She holds your hand. You look down at it and back at her. You’re quiet for a moment. You’re not sure how to process that. 

“I’m not sure how to process that.”

“Well, do you like him? Love him even?” 

“I-“

You’re cut off by that awfully loud goal horn, and glance at the screen to see that Jack has scored. You felt a surge of pride in your chest and feel yourself smiling wide as Jack’s tiny figure skated around and fist bumped the players on the bench. He turns to your section for a moment, lingering for a sliver of a second and your heart stops. The game called for the face-off just a second later so he had to look away. 

You look over to the girl on your right and she’s already looking at you with a half smirk. 

Jack politely declined on drinks later in the locker room after the devils won. 

He leans against his car and thinks about you. He really wanted to see you, needed your affirmation. 

It’s all he seems to do now. Jack just wants reassurance and peace in knowing that you were there. He spent every waking moment thinking about you and how he got you to show sides of yourself that you don’t show to people. He tried to keep his personal life away from hockey but the way his instincts told him to look in your general direction after he scored made him sick to his stomach. 

He might actually be stupid obsessed with you. 

Trusting his gut on your body language and making a bold move the previous night may have been the best thing he’s ever done.

That means that he doesn’t need to be cautious with his flirting anymore. He knows exactly what he feels but he wants to wait til you come to that conclusion on your own. 

He didn’t notice your quiet footsteps in his direction and was mildly startled when you were standing in front of him. Almost at once, he felt a smile adorn his face. 

“That was so cool, I didn’t understand anything but I know you scored.” Your wide, twinkling eyes stared back up at him. “I’m proud of you.”

And that’s all it took for him to usher you into the back seat, strip off your sweatpants, and throw your legs over his shoulders. 

Not even ten minutes later, your lungs are dying for air and your body is covered in a thin sheet of sweat. He was rougher this time, sucking a hickey on your neck before, getting the entire bottom half of his face messy, his own hooded eyes losing focus as he pleasured you.  

“You back to me yet, baby?”

“Hm?” 

You open your eyes and you’re in the front seat, cleaned up, pants back on, and Jack is fastening your seatbelt for you. 

“I lost you for like, three minutes there. You okay?”

His voice is gentle and quiet, his index and thumb holding your chin softly as his azure eyes bore into yours. 

“Chipotle?”

He laughs, pulling back and shifting the gear into drive, his hair falling slightly in his face and he pushes it back. 

“All the chipotle in the world for my Dee.”

Your mind briefly flashed to how he kissed the tip of your nose before he went down on you, and not your lips.

You’re in Jack’s apartment now (your heart dropping when you thought of Nala, but then you remembered that you fed her quite well and she had to be passed out by now. Jack handed you a Hershey’s kiss to calm you down), and it’s big. 

Like, huge. 

Massive for someone who lives alone.

His TV was playing ‘How to lose a guy in 10 days’ and you were watching like a hawk. 

“I’ve never seen this one before.”

“Really? You don’t watch romcoms?” Jack looks at you surprised, sitting next to you with both of your chipotle orders and throwing a blanket over the two of you. 

“No. I don’t really get the time.” You furrow your brows and turn to him with a blank expression. “You’ve showed me so much fun in the last few weeks. Thank you.”

Jack could happily die in that moment. He flashes back to yesterday again, your childlike wonder, the new things he learnt about you. 

“‘S nothing yet. There’s so much more you deserve to feel happy about.” He kisses your temple before getting closer to you. 

You both watch in silence for a while, occasionally laughing and aw-ing, until you can’t hold it back anymore. 

“Do you think kissing is unhygienic?”

You look up to him, his unbuttoned shirt, messy hair and lingering smile making your heart skip a beat. 

Oh no. 

You have such a horrible, fat crush on him.

“Hm?”

“I-nothing.”

“M’kay.”

Sweet boy is not a multitasker and the movie was at a really good part, so he didn’t really get distracted and soon you were engrossed too. 

You were still in a cloud of feelings and it was getting a bit much for you. Your head was usually void of emotion, so the change was welcome. And you had Jack to thank for that. He’s done so much for you, taken care of you in ways that no one has and no one ever will. 

You realize that he could be your worst heartbreak or someone that’s going to be in your life forever. 

You feel slightly sick thinking about it and you need to get it out of your system. 

“Can I suck you off?” Your lips lightly brush his ear. 

Now that. 

That gets Jack’s attention. 

He nearly snaps his neck to turn to face you and your noses touch. 

“You- I- what?”

Your fingertips are feathery as you brush the hair out of his face. 

“I want to suck your dick.”

“You don’t- if this is to- to reciprocate or something-“

“I promise it’s not. I really just want to.”

Jack is already semi-hard and he can feel his dress pants tighten. His eyes briefly widen and he borderline gulps before he watches your hand run down his chest and toy with his belt buckle. As soon as he gives you the green light and pauses ‘How to lose a guy in 10 days’, you’re on your knees in front of him, just like how he was with you the previous night. 

Jack’s sanity is once again lost as he watches you on your knees for him. You make a quick work of his belt buckle and pull down his dress pants just enough. 

You can already see how loaded he is through his boxers and look back up at him with the same wide eyes that he goes crazy over. 

“Cool.” 

Jack barely has time to react over your concise approval of his length before you’re mouthing over his boxers, sucking softly, leaving Jack gasping for a breath. 

You pull down his boxers and start working immediately, pumping him and wetting your hands slightly so you have more friction. 

“Y’know, it’s crazy—I know what all of these veins are called.” You say, more to yourself but Jack’s half smile drops when you lay your tongue flat against his shaft and suck on his tip. He lets out an embarrassing sound between a staggered breath and a whimper as you make your way down. Your cheeks hollow out as you make eye contact with him, making sure you’re getting it right. You come off and continue with your hands and look up at him. 

“Good?”

“F- Christ- fuck, so good, baby. So good.” 

Happy with yourself, you continue to suck him clean while he chokes out moans and his stomach clenches. You can feel him getting heavier in your mouth and you start speeding up, using both of your hands. 

There’s a moment when he reaches forward to push your hair out of your face, so that you don’t get bothered and so that he sees you properly, which warms your heart. 

He taps one of yours hands that��s on him to indicate that he’s close and you pull back with a kitten lick to his tip before sticking your tongue out.

You have Jack seeing stars when his load pumps into your mouth, and your eyes dart over his shirt clinging to his chest, his hair falling into his screwed shut eyes, his lips parted and his hand gripping the sofa with such intensity that his veins pop out. 

You tuck him back into his clothing after cleaning him up, and he looks at you with tired eyes while making grabby hands. 

You chuckle, climbing into his arms and he slumps his body against you, both of you now lying down on the couch as he unpauses the movie. 

His head rests comfortably against your chest, one of your hands running through his hair, and the other intertwined with his. 

It’s sweet. 

Jack wakes up alone and panics at once. It’s embarrassing, really; like finding out your stuffed animal fell to the floor during your sleep as a toddler. But when he checks his messages, he finds a text from you. 

Hey, I had to leave. I have a project due tomorrow and also Nala :( We can meet up later. I had fun yesterday. Thank you :))

It’s hits Jack how gone he is when he finds himself clutching his phone to his heart. 

It takes a while. 

He comes home fresh from morning practice took a nice long nap to clear his head before waking up properly to see that it was raining outside. 

He was enjoying (not) the protein shake that he was required to drink and mindlessly scoring through plays from an old game, when it hits him like a sack of bricks. 

Do you think kissing is unhygienic? 

You think he doesn’t want to kiss you. 

You think he’s toying with your heart by showing you all kinds of affection besides the one thing that both of you wanted so fucking bad. 

You think he doesn’t like you enough to do that yet. 

The drive to yours was smooth despite the rain pouring down from every direction, and because you always reminded him of road safety. 

You were standing outside of the apartment building, looking like you were having an argument with.. your tiger. 

Your hands were on your hips, body soaked and hair wet as you tried to coax Nala into shelter. 

Jack laughed at both of your antics which got your attention. Your mind flashes back to the day that you met him, the pouring rain, and how awkward it was to meet someone you knew from a while back. You wave at him happily as he approached, but noticed a hint of  anxiety and embarrassment. 

“What’s wro-?“

“Are you into poetry?”

“Uh, sometimes? Why?”

“This- well, I can’t read it. Here.” 

He hands over his phone, stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks at anything but you. Puzzled, you cover his phone from the pelting droplets so you could read. 

‘The first time you caught my eye

it was not love at first sight. 

Instead a quiet curiosity was

planted in my chest and I knew

it was only a matter of time before 

you sunk beneath my bones and

nurtured this deep seated familiarity

into a love so fierce that I would question

if I had ever been in love before.’

Lyra Wren. 

You read it again. 

There’s no way he actually searched for a poem to depict how he felt. 

“Look, I didn’t understand half of it hit you get the-“

Jack was cut off by our lips against his. 

It was short, maybe a second long, closed mouth, but you pulled away breathless and were close enough to feel his heart racing underneath his clothes. 

How desperately he wanted your cold, soft lips against his again. 

“So, you like me? For who I am?”

He nods. 

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I-“ 

You were interrupted by Nala’s whine (to say: I change my mind, I want to go inside), and you give Jack his phone, grab his hand and pull him inside. 

“C’mon, we’ll get pneumonia.”

Your hands were still in each others, his engulfing yours, when you shut the door to your apartment, locked it, watched Nala bound to her room, and turned to face him again properly. 

He was so, so close. Your lips were parted, just inches apart, your foreheads touching. 

He closed the gap this time, almost groaning in relief when he felt your mouth properly against his, something you both yearned for without realizing. His lips move against yours gently, savoring as much of you as he can. He nips your bottom lip and it has you and Jack smiling into the kiss. And then it’s a mess, teeth clashing, giggling, tongues lolling over another, one of his hands cupping your face and the other wrapped around your waist, but it feels like everything you’ve ever wanted. 

You pull back. 

“I love you more.”

[jjkprncss]

YOU'RE MY STARGIRL - SATORU GOJO

TW: CHEATING, DEGRADTION, MANIPULATION, ROUGH (ISH) SEX

A/N: HEY GUYSS sorry for the giant hiatus ... I got a new job or whateva .... anyway I hope you guys enjoyed this quick lil one shot!! If you have any req LMK!!!!!!!! MWAHHH

12:17 am, New York New York

"you just love me don't you? you don't care what I do, or who I fuck. just as long as you get this dick by the end of the night huh?" he grunted, his nails digging into your brown thighs as he forcfully bucked his hips against your ass.

SLAP

"tell me mama, this dick too dam good for you to leave me huh?"

toxic. that's all you two were. satoru, constanly flirting with anything walking on two legs; whether that be men or women. you, of course cried. constantly.

"y..yes s...s..satoruuu" you attempted, grabbing onto the the soft pink pillow being shoved in your face. your mouth hung open, loud lewd grunts escaping your mouth as you rolled your eyes back. his hips bounced against yours roughly, earing a slight groan to escape his plump soft pink lips.

"yn fuck ... keep throwing that ass back"

11:55 pm, New York New York

"I don't understand ... I do everything for you? and you keep hurting me" he scoffed as he threw his head back, raking his long fingers through his damp wet hair. he turned his back to you, tugging at the towel on his waist whilst he was on the search for pajama pants.

there you sat, legs crossed on your shared bed with mascara and eyeliner running down your face. your pillows, brown stains smuged on them from your sheer foundation.

"I don't know what you're talking about yn ... " satoru chuckled, now changed into light gray sweatpants. you glanced down, noticing his print. a sigh left your mouth, before wiping the left over messy makeup from your face. you knew he was with some one. some bitch.

so why don't you leave him? you don't even know yourself. the two of you have been together for almost a year now and things still dont feel serious. first time you caught him, he used the excuse of loosing his best friend and needed to let off steam. and then it happened again. and again. and again. and again.

"yn baby, you know I love you" he crawled onto the bed, wiping the left over tears from your cheeks before his lips met yours.

"I'm not fuckin with nobody. let me show you how much I love you''

[11queensupreme11]

How do the gods feel about Percy being an 'It Girl'? Idk, every time I think of her, i just imagine all the popular girls from high school 😭

omg i gotta talk about this in detail forgive me 😂😂

you know those tiktok stories ppl post about their glow ups? like they'd show pics of them when they were kids or in middle school, to how they look now in high school/collage/working adult????

THAT'S PERCY!!!!!

percy canonically was seen as a loser in the earlier books. she was constantly shuffled around boarding schools, which are EXPENSIVE btw, and in my fic the explanation for that is that these schools willingly took percy in with free tuition/lowered tuition because of how HORRIBLE her record is, and they wanted to take her in in hopes they could "improve" her and make their school look better cuz "hey we took this criminal poor child in and we made her a stellar student! we're so much better than the other schools, so give us donations and send ur kids to us because we actually work!" and that obviously just... never happened lol 💀

BUT ANYWAY, those schools are expensive and usually filled with wealthy kids from wealthy families, and they can CLEARLY tell percy isn't one of them. maybe because she's always wearing the same shoes, or she can't afford to get another uniform so she's always got the same crummy one with rips or stains they couldn't get out or "hey i saw percy and her mom walking to the laundromat, they're so poor they don't even have their own washing and drying machine haha!", or "guys i saw percy working at the macy's parade! hahaha, she's so poor she's gotta work during summer break!", etc.

like EVERYONE always knew her as that kid with no money and no dad who's always committing crimes ("hey isn't that jackson girl a terrorist?!"), she's a loser with barely any friends, and the friends she DOES make are losers too (grover and tyson were always looked down on, and in my fic she attends the di angelo's school, and they were looked down on too).

so imagine seeing that kid grow up into her teens and then get hit with the biggest glow up you've ever seen (cuz her face claim's adriana lima) 😂😂😂😂 i think her life started getting better around the time she she started attending goode high (a regular high school, not for elites like her previous school, so no one there knows her aside from her "crimes" on tv). and it's not just the glow up too, she's also a little more outgoing and confident in herself, more comfortable in her skin, etc. she's got a glow up inside AND outside. like imagine strolling around ur school and a girl who looks like a victoria's secret super model just walks by and she NOTICES you and just waves and says "oh hi! 👋😄"

percy has always been seen as a poor loser, but then high school happened and BAM she's now suddenly the most popular girl in school 🥺 she probably has a lot of mortal friends too. so not only is she popular in the demigod/godly world, but also popular in the mortal world (her high school, i mean lol). she's on the swim team, she's the ✨it girl✨ she probably got a ton of juniors or seniors trying to ask her out to prom/homecoming and shit despite being a freshman/sophomore 😂 and because she's got so many friends from school, she most DEFINITELY spent a lot of her free time hanging out with them, like just shopping in new york, going to skate parks, walking around the city, etc. (and with her demigod friends too ofc if they're in new york at the time). her insta, tiktok, and twitter's probably FULL of pics/vids of her just hanging out and being social 😂 she's the girl that's everywhere but home, always out and doing shit 😭

okay okay, i rambled too much im sorry, i just really love talking about percy being an ✨it girl✨ everywhere she goes

but anyways... the yanderes...... WOULD FUCKING HATE IT 😂

poseidon and beelzebub are the biggest introverts EVER. the thought of going out and touching grass would actually give them psychic damage 😂

poseidon's so lucky he was never in sally's position because he wouldn't be able to handle it. his daughter is everywhere BUT HOME 😭😭😭 like pls go home already child, stop hanging out with people, what do you mean you're at a SLEEPOVER RIGHT NOW? NO, COME HOME. do you even know the ppl you're talking to? YOU JUST MET THEM???? DON'T TALK TO STRANGERS, IDC IF THEY'RE COMPLIMENTING UR OUTFIT 😭😭😭 poor percy, in ror verse her life of excitement's gone, no going around hanging out with friends and doing random shit, she's got an overbearing dad now 😭

beelzebub's screaming, crying, throwing up, dramatically sliding his back down the door and everything 😭 going to midgard with percy was already hard enough for him, he literally had to handcuff her because she just WOULDN'T. STAY. STILL. and everyone kept staring at her and everything (remember when he read the mind of that one taxi cab driver and he lost his shit 😂). percy ALWAYS wants to go outside and he can't fucking take that shit, but he loves her so he takes her out anyway and it kills him every time 😭😭 BECAUSE EVERYONE ALWAYS WANTS TO TALK TO HER, AND SHE NEVER DOES ANYTHING ABOUT IT like sweetie..... stranger danger 😭

hades would be crying internally like "pls.... stay home.... just stay home pls 😭". he's glad his niece is so well-liked, she deserves to be adored by everyone!!! but maybe... maybe this is just a lil too much popularity... 😭 he'd burst into tears from the sight of her social media accounts alone, she's always out and about and rarely home, always with different ppl. it's so shocking to him cuz he's more comfortable hanging out with ppl he's close to like family and stuff, what do you mean percy's got different friend groups and she's always hanging out with them, what do you mean she's in hundreds of group chats in various texting apps, what do you mean seniors were asking her out to dances, STAY AWAY *HISSSSSS*

APOLLO WOULD BE SO HYPOCRITICAL 😂 he is ALSO a very popular god who's very extroverted and outgoing but holy shit would he meet his match in percy and he starts to see the downsides to such popularity 😂 he's soooooo glad that all of percy's old friends are universes away, but if that starts happening again in THIS universe he'd be on his hands and knees begging her to stay home and stop hanging out with ppl 😭 he now understands why poseidon kept her in the palace, cuz once she's out, she's going EVERYWHERE and meeting EVERYONE and nothing's gonna send her back home unless they drag her 😂

anubis is extroverted af so he definitely understands!!!!!!! jk. he'd be fine with it for the first few 24 hours, then everyone starts to become a threat to him because they keep stealing percy's attention. he'd be like "can't you stay home 🥺 pretty please 🥺🥺🥺 kebechet and i miss you so much 🥺🥺🥺 ur rarely home nowadays 🥺🥺🥺" and he and kebi would work together to guilt her into spending more time with them, and it would work 💀💀💀

loki would make the fatal mistake of taking her around valhalla and meeting other gods and shit, and then immediately regret it once he realizes that he's got a super sociable ✨it girl✨ in his hands who easily befriends everyone she meets 💀 he'd probably try to horde her in the palace, but that doesn't work cuz now she's helping servants out with the cooking and cleaning, having tea parties with odin, petting huginn and muninn, doing thor's hair, hanging out with the valkyries, etc. into the basement she goes, i guess! 😭😭😭

cú chulainn 1000% also understands what it's like to be popular. i'm pretty sure all of ireland knew him; ladies loved the dude and men feared and hated his ass cuz he either killed someone they cared about or fucked their wives and daughters 💀 so yes he definitely understands, but karma strikes him and it strikes him BADLY because percy is absolutely gonna be 100000000% more popular than him. like, he takes her out and looks away from her for ONE SECOND, and she's suddenly got 61341 friends already, half of which are probably in love with her or some shit 😭 hell, she'd probably unknowingly steal the hearts of the girls who crushed on him and all those dudes who hated his ass? yeah now they forgot about him cuz "wow who's the pretty girl next to him?? 😳😳" he'd be so stressed fr, he can't take her ANYWHERE cuz they all WANT HER. deserved karma if you ask me 💀

[pabtsblueliving]

Never Changed

Another song-spo fic. Been feeling Knoxville heavy these past few days. Saw an edit by someone of tik tok of him during the Gumball Rally with this song…brain rot occurred. 

WC 1.2K

Warnings: angst, flirting, semi-established on and off relationship, smoking, drinking, making out, groping etc. 18+

Song: Change (In the House of Flies) by the Deftones

I tried my best making the reader as body neutral as possible, still working on improving!

pabtsblueliving © 2023

You and Knox had been on and off for years. 

It was cat and mouse for as long as you could remember. 

You were a well known model, walking for Versace, Gucci, and Mugler since 2004. You somehow got roped into the Jackass crew when you had went to the first premier of the movie which was a backyard BBQ with celebrities left and right, playboy models and hustler girls walking around everywhere you looked.

Youd shown up with friends, Knoxville stealing you to say hi right after youd grabbed a drink.

“Big fan” He smiled, god that smile

“Likewise” you spoke, shaking his hand.

I watched you change, into a fly

I looked away, you were on fire.

It was breaking up and making up, every few months. Youd fuck, youd fight, youd see him in the tabloids with a new blonde the next day. Then after your declaration of finally being “done with him”...He’d show up backstage of your latest runway show.

I watched a change in you, It's like you never had wings

Now, you feel so alive, I've watched you change

Bam Margera had invited your best friend to come to the bar the Jackass Crew and himself were at in New York City. You knew he would be there, and you told yourself no…don't feel into his ego…don't show him, he still had you wrapped around his finger.

“Come on, Y/N, seriously…for me? You know ive been into Bam lately…And you know all those guys anyways! Who cares if Johnny will be there” Your friend, Melissa, had a big grin, batting her lashes at you.

You looked at her and let your head fall back as you sighed, 

“Fine…Mel, alright I'll come. For. An. Hour” You pointed in her face, walking to your suitcase to pick out something to wear.

She landed a big kiss on your cheek, and you laughed. 

“Y/N, holy shit I love you, I will totally owe you a drink at the bar!” She gleaned, running to put her shoes on. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, fluffing your hair. You'd thrown on your outfit Finishing the look with your harness motorcycle boots, and that one final…accessory.

His belt

God, you'd stolen that belt from him two years ago and he hasn't asked about it back since. The jewelry around your neckline and wrists clanged together as you reached for it. 

It was black, some studs, and his old red Waylon Jennings belt buckle on it. You were wearing it, you had to. Mess with him a little, tease a little, maybe piss him off…who knows what wearing this belt would do to you. 

I took you home, Set you on the glass

I pulled off your wings, Then I laughed

You and Melissa walked into the dive bar in Brooklyn. You had looked around, spotting Wee-man hand standing on the bar while also funneling a beer. 

You and Melissa couldn't help but to groan while laughing, what the hell did we get ourselves into.

“Well, well, I knew you’d be here.” You hear a familiar, Pennsylvanian accent slur.

Melissa turned around, and smiled, giving him a hug. You still had no idea if he had said that to you, or his date who’d finally arrived.

Bam smiled and hugged Melissa, then looked up at you in their embrace, and spoke

“Yeah, I'm talking to you.” He laughed, and Melissa pulled away. “Good luck” He said, accent prominent, and pulling Melissa on his arm towards the other guys.

Melissa looked back and cringed, mouthing ‘Sorry’ as she continued to walk with Bam. A few minutes later, youre standing at the end of the bar, chin in your hand, waiting for your much needed gin and tonic. 

“...So that’s where my belt has been, huh.” You heard that voice, his voice, shit, compose yourself a bit, dont turn around yet.

You kept yourself facing the bartender, feeling Johnny’s looming figure just inches behind you.

“Yeah, well…” You turned around, straw in your lips.

“I always thought it looked better on me, no?” You tossed your hair over your shoulder, taking another sip.

I watched a change in you, It's like you never had wings

Now, you feel so alive, I've watched you change

He looked down at you, and tilted his sunglasses down.

“I take it back…you look quite lovely tonight, Rabbit.” He said softly, taking off his sunglasses fully.

That nickname, he's playing a dangerous game, but he's playing it just right

“Starting already, Knox?” You couldn't help but to smile, you two were like magnets whenever you were five feet within the same space together. 

“Whaaat, Y/N…you’re being mean tonight…are you breaking up with me?” He joked, smiling after his last few words. 

“Don’t you wanna catch up?” His arms slapped against his thighs, grabbing his beer from the bar and taking a sip.

“What to hear about the next blonde youre seeing?” You rolled your eyes, “Dont think im too interested, Knox. 

I look at the cross, then I look away

“Hey…come on now, that's over with…” He stepped closer, you're now trapped between him and the bar. “Come have a smoke with me…” He grinned, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. 

I'm in for it, and now I'm crossing a path that's near impossible to turn around on.

He lit your stick, then his. You had your back against the brick wall, him leaning on the wall on his side, on arm holding him up above his head. 

You both took a drag, making eye contact, not breaking with the other. He exhaled his smoke, stepping closer, his hand with the cigarette stroking the side of your face, thumb going over your lip. 

“I always forget how gorgeous you are, rabbit…” he pulled up your chin as you took another drag

“How do we,” You exhaled the smoke, “always end up like this, huh, John?” 

Your mind was fuzzy, you had a buzz, desire.

“Maybe this is just…meant to be.” He took your cigarette and put it out, grabbing your waist and pulling you in for a smoldering kiss.

You gasped, usually you're able to fend him off for at least another hour. But, the inevitable is going to happen. 

You pulled him in by his belt buckle, whining into the kiss. The feeling of his tongue shooting straight to your core. He tasted like beer and cigarettes, your favorite. 

Give you the gun Blow me away

I watched a change in you It's like you never had wings

His right hand sneaked down, and grabbed a handful of your ass slowly, and he groaned. You took this opportunity to stick your tongue between his lips and grab a handful of his hair.

“PJ” You whined…taking a breath

“Baby, come on, baby, if you call me that you know this will be a long night…” He grabbed you by the chin.

You held his belt buckle, teasing the trail of hair leading down under his dickies.

“So let be long, Knox…” You smiled.

[canirove]

Friends, lovers… and an orange | Chapter 2

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"Mum, I already told you. We didn't kiss!"

"Adele, if you did there is nothing wrong with it, you know? You've known each other your whole lives and..."

"Mum, for the millionth time: Mason and I didn't kiss! I was just smelling his neck!"

"Ok, ok. No need to get that angry" Elizabeth said over the phone.

"How am I supposed to not get angry when no one believes me? Not you, not Jourdan, definitely not the press..." Adele said.

"This will pass, don't worry. It has always been the same. And with all these daily trends online, people will have forgotten about you and Mason in a week. His fans may even start a new gossip if they see him following another girl on Instagram."

"Yeah, that's true" she sighed.

"Addie..." Jourdan said after knocking on her room's door. "There is someone who wants to see you."

"I gotta go, mum. Call you later."

"Ok. Love you sweetheart."

"Love you too" Adele said before hanging up. "Who is it?"

"Mason. He wants to talk with you."

"Of course he does" she said before walking into their living room. "Hello."

"Addie, hi. How are you?"

"Well... you know. The whole country and part of the world believes we were making out after your mother's birthday party, and my best friend and my own mother didn't believe me when I explained to them that we weren't."

"Hey, I do believe you" Jourdan said.

"Yeah, but because you saw me crying after I explained everything ten times."

"You cried?" Mason said, getting up from the sofa and moving to where Adele was standing, stopping himself when he was about to... Touch her face? 

"I did, but you know me. I usually cry when I get frustrated" she shrugged. "Anyway, how are you? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to apologize. All this mess is because of me, because of my fame. You've always wanted a quiet life, you don't deserve this."

"Thank you" Adele smiled. "Have you spoken with your agency, tho? What are we supposed to do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. The best thing to do is to let things cool down. People will move into the next piece of gossip and leave us alone."

"That's what my mum said..."

"And mine" Mason chuckled. "They've been through this, they know what they are talking about. And so does my agency. So we should keep calm and..."

"Guys..." Jourdan said. "I think you may want to see this."

"Are those… paparazzis?" Adele said when she joined Jourdan and looked out the window.

"Fuck, they followed me" Mason said, joining them.

"They what?"

"They were waiting outside my place, but I thought I had lost them on my way here" he said. "I am so sorry, Addie. This is all my fault."

"What are we going to do now? Call the police?" she asked.

"That won't do anything, they are just standing in the street" Jourdan said.

"So then what?"

"I'll leave and distract them, take them back to my place” he said.

"But now they know where I live, Mase. What if they camp outside or follow me everywhere?" Adele said.

"Then you will call me and my agency will take care of it. I promise you it will be fine."

But it wasn't fine. 

For the following couple of weeks and every time Adele left the house, she was welcomed by paparazzis shouting at her and asking her about Mason, the photos being online just a couple of hours later. At one point, they even followed her while she was on her daily run to the park. 

Things weren't cooling down as everyone had told her, and it was exhausting. 

"That's it, I'm leaving" she said after her latest encounter with the photographers.

"Leave? Where?" Jourdan asked.

"New York with my brother. No one will bother me there." 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Welcome, sis!"

"Hello, Luca. Would you mind giving me a hand with my suitcase?"

"Yes, of course. How was the flight?" he asked. 

"Long. And can you believe that the paps followed me to the airport?" Adele said, letting herself fall on the sofa.

"That's what happens when you make out with Mason Mount and get caught."

"We didn't make out" she replied, throwing a pillow at her little brother.

"That's what you say. But those photos..."

"Those photos are taken out of context. And can we please talk about something else? I've come here to disconnect from all that drama."

"Sure" Luca said, sitting next to her. "What are your plans?"

"Just relax and mind my own business. I won't be bothering you and... Wait, where is your other half?" Aka, Alex, Mason's little brother. Like the best friends he and Luca were, they had decided to move to New York to continue with their studies, and they had obviously had to live together.

"On a date. We'll see how long it takes him this time to fuck it up" Luca chuckled.

"Jealous?" Adele asked.

"I'm not interested in dating" he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's not what I meant." She had always suspected that Luca had feelings for Alex that went beyond friendship, but the few times she had asked him about it, he had always denied it. 

"I'm not jealous. Of any kind. So stop trying to turn my life into a fanfic and put that energy into something else."

"I will, don't worry." 

And for the next month, Adele managed to do it. To put her energy somewhere that wasn't the paparazzis and everyone thinking that she and Mason were finally dating. She would go out for a run in the mornings, visit a new coffee shop every day, visit museums, go for walks and take photos of everything, spend the day at campus with Luca and Alex, join them at a couple of parties... She even went on a date! 

Everything seemed to be going well, until that one morning.

"Mason!" Luca said when he opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Got a job in the city and decided to come pay my little brother and his twin a visit" he smiled. "Hello, Addie."

"Hi" she said.

"How are you?"

"Good, good. And I'm sorry, but I have go. I have a pottery lesson in an hour and I want to grab something to eat first."

"Could we... Could we meet for lunch? Maybe dinner?" Mason asked. "I would like to have a chat with you. Alone."

"Yeah, sure" she replied. 

That night, they met at a small restaurant around the corner, one of Luca and Alex's favourites. Usually it was packed with people, but that day it was almost empty except for a group of girls and another couple sitting next to them.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Adele asked him.

"I wanted to apologize."

"What for?"

"Ruining your life?" Mason chuckled.

"You didn't ruin anything, Mase."

"You ran away, Addie."

"Yeah, but..."

"You were being harassed, and it was all because of me."

"Mase, hey" Adele said, reaching for his hand and giving it a little squeeze. "It's fine. I'm fine. I actually needed this break from London and everything back home, they did me a favour."

"Really?"

"Really" she smiled. "So stop blaming yourself, ok?"

"Ok" he said, smiling back. 

After that, they spent the rest of their evening catching up on what they had been doing, and as they left, Adele noticed that the girls who were sitting not far from them were checking out Mason. And she didn't blame them. That night he looked more handsome than usual, and she may or may have not checked him out too as he left to go to the bathroom. 

But what had made her feel uneasy, was what had happened while they were at the door waiting for another couple to walk into the restaurant. She could swear she had heard one of the girls saying her name and Mason's. 

Could they have recognized them?

[winniethewife]

I'll be summer sun for you forever (Basil Stitt x Reader)

Warnings: Suicidal ideation

Words:786

A/N: Fluffy Basil? Definity not what anyone was expecting....

Basil is pretty sure this is a dumb idea, so far he’s called his now ex-girlfriend, and his parents, neither have responded, he plugs the phone back into the wall of his ruined apartment to make one last desperate call. His childhood Friend, the girl next door who moved across the country after high school, he’s dials the number, and it only rings once before she picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hey! Uh I don’t know if this is a goo-”

“Basil! Oh my god I haven’t heard your voice in forever! How are you?”

“Uh, well not great, there’s some… really weird stuff going on with me.”

“Weird like the time you got your head stuck in the railing or weird like the time that guy on the history channel had you actually convinced Aliens existed?” She asks with a slight laugh.  He kinda laughed back.

“Uh…weirder than both of those.”

“Well Shit Baz…Didn’t think that was possible.” He hears her set something down, It was clear he had her undivided attention now.

“Well yeah. Um…well you remember my girlfriend? I told you about her right”

“Mhm, we actually met briefly the last time I was in town. She didn’t seem to like me much.”

“Well apparently she’s been cheating on me for like a year and some change…” he was deflecting the real problem here, the lightning, the scar, the mental breakdown. Probably good to start on the easy part right?

“That bitch! I’m so sorry Basil, that’s just not right, you’re the best guy I know, you worshiped the ground she walked on. Why the fuck would she do that?”

“I don’t know, but that’s just the beginning of my bad luck…” something about his tone of voice triggered the “Mom friend” in her

“Okay let me sit down and you’re gonna tell me everything…” he could hear her footsteps on the floor in over the phone and it’s all he can do to not start crying again.

“You’re not going to believe me when I tell you.” He says

“I don’t care, you’re going to tell me anyway.” She was always good at getting him to do what she wanted. From playing the board game she wanted to as kids to asking out the girl he liked to prom, she had a way of convincing him that he just couldn’t resist. So he gave up fighting her years ago. So he breaks down and tells her… Everything.

“All this time I didn't know you were breakin' down…” She whispers into the phone reviver. “I-I don’t know, I’m thinking of just…Ending it all. It’s really bad…I look like a monster, and I feel like I’m going more insane every day…”

“Basil…I'd fall to pieces on the floor if you weren't around…” He can hear the tears in her voice. “I’m coming to see you, I’ll help you get it all figured out.”

“No. Please don’t I don’t want to be seen like this, I just want it to be over okay?”

“I don’t care how bad it is or what you look like Basil. I’m getting on the next plane to New York. I refuse to lose my best friend.” That tone of voice the one he knows he can’t argue.

“Okay…” He’s kinda glad she’s coming. But doesn’t know how to face it.

~

By the next day she’s standing in his apartment helping him clean stuff up. She had arrived on the red eye, early in the morning. She hadn’t shied away from the Scarring on his face or the how his eye had gone white. She didn’t care. She had just held him in her lap as he had cried. She had run her fingers through his hair and hummed sweet melodies.

“Why are you helping me?” He asked

“You’re my best friend Baz.”

“I haven’t been a good friend, I haven’t called in a year why on earth…”

“It doesn’t matter Basil, You’re still my friend. And I love you even at your darkest.” She tried to smile at him but he can’t look at her

“I don’t believe that.” He grumbles. She puts aside the broom she was using and carefully took his face in her hands looking him directly in the face, before softly kissing him, he’s shocked but he kisses her back, his hands, shaking, end up on her waist. Every move she makes done with determination but with a gentle quality that Basil hadn’t felt from anyone in a very long time. As they break the kiss more tears falling from his face. She wipes the tears away and softly tells him the one thing he needed to hear more than anything.

“Believe in one thing, I won't go away”'

__

TS Series Masterlist

Basil Series masterlist

Next chapter

[n0vabug]

I'm so sorry

You get in a fight with same

This Contains: Fights scenes, blood, gore, angst, fluff, mentions of depression and mental illnesses, and more, if any of these make you uncomfortable, I recommend that you do NOT read this!! Also if I write in bold in the story, that means ghostface is talking. Words: 1573

Y/N'S POV "PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE SAM, WE JUST MOVED HERE AND BECAME FRIENDS WITH ANIKA AND ETHAN AND QUINN, PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE ME SAM, BY LEAVING NEW YORK, YOURE LEAVING ME, TARA, CHAD, MINDY, AND EVERYONE ELSE." Tears were forming in my eyes as I spoke, I was upset, I knew that I shouldn't have yelled but I did anyways. She was trying to leave again, but this time, I didn't want to leave, I wasn't going to leave and I told her that, she promised no matter what happened, we wouldn't leave again, I can't believe her.

"I HAVE TO YOU DONT GET IT, I DONT WANT TO DEAL WITH THIS ALL OVER AGAIN, I JUST CANT Y/N, YOU COULD COME WITH ME." Sam said, I honestly felt bad for her but why couldn't she just ignore it, I honestly was mad, but sad?? Idk I just wasn't happy about this, I also hate yelling and fighting, which made me feel even worse.

"HOW DO WE EVEN KNOW THIS HAS ANYTHING TO DO WITH US, WE HAVE NO IDEA, ITS HALLOWEEN, PEOPLE ARE GONNA DRESS UP AS GHOSTFACE, ESPECIALLY SERIAL KILLERS, PLEASE DONT LEAVE SAM, I CANT LIVE WITHOUT YOU." Warm tears were streaming down my face as I spoke, my voice broke mid sentence and I was trying so hard not to just completely break down.

"Y/N, YOU DONT EVEN UNDERSTAND THAT WE COULD DIE BECAUSE OF THIS, YOURE TOO BUSY BEING DEPRESSED ZONING OUT ALL THE TIME TO EVEN NOT....ice, shit i'm so sorry I swear I didn't mean it." She paused when saying notice, she realized she messed up by saying that. But did she just bring up my fucking mental illnesses, wtf. The warm tears stopped as I looked at her with betrayal and sadness in my eyes, why would she fucking bring that up. I think she quickly noticed what she said too because she looked at me with pure regret and sadness.

"Get out sam." I didn't even hesitate to say that, I truly loved her and didn't want her to leave NY, but I needed her to leave my apartment, I couldn't be around her at the moment. "No, wait, I'm sor-" "GET THE FUCK OUT SAM." I know it was wrong of me to yell, again, but it worked because she walked out as quickly as she could. The second she slammed the door, warms tears were pouring out of my eyes again and I couldn't breath, I love my girlfriend so much, but why would she say that, I know she didn't mean it, but still. I walked out of the living room, and walked into my room, trying to calm myself down.

After 5 minutes, I get a call from an unknown number, I quickly try to calm myself so I sound like I wasn't just crying, so I pick up. "Hello?" I said "Hello Y/n" The voice is a bit familiar, too familiar, and not the good type. "Who is this?" I quickly asked. "Are you a little upset Y/n, poor sam, she was only trying to protect herself from getting killed, she didn't want to deal with this a second time, but you took it the wrong way. Shut her out. Didn't even give her a chance to apologize, now poor sam, she's out on her own, what if she gets butchered all because of you, y/n." Shit. Shit. Shit.

Next thing I know I'm running out of my room, towards the door. I can't let Sam die, she's one of the few people who stayed after finding out about my past and my problems. I had to get to her.

Next thing I know, a cold metal blade was pressed into my thigh, with a guy in a black costume and white mask. I screamed as blood dripped down my thigh and bled through my jeans. I then felt the metal enter my stomach 3 times, then get twisted, I screamed as loud as I could, hoping someone would hear me. "Any last words, Y/n" "Is sam ok?" I struggled to speak but managed to get those words out, I truly needed to know if Sam was okay. I needed her to be okay. The guy in the mask then stabbed me in the shoulder one last time. My eyes felt heavy and fluttered close until all I saw was darkness...

SAM'S POV I left the apartment, tears streaming down my face. I didn't mean it. I love her more than anything, and I did not mean what I said. She is the greatest person I know, even if she did have some problems, but so did I, and we were overcoming our problems together, she didn't leave me even after she found out about Billy, I didn't even think about leaving her after finding out about her mental illnesses, so after we moved to NY, I could tell she was happier and getting better, and I know me leaving, broke her heart, I could see the sadness in her eyes and the tears streaming down her face during the argument. I had to go back.

I started walking back towards her apartment and as I did, I picked up my phone trying to call her, even after arguments that we had, she always answered my calls, she was really quick at answering because she always had her phone on her at all times, but this time, she didn't pick up. So I called again. no answer. I was starting to worry, maybe she was just really mad and still wanted to answer, but I was still worried. I started walking quicker until it turned into me running. I had the key to my girlfriend's apartment since she had a spare, and since I practically lived there. I unlocked the door. "Y/n?" I look around until I see something that I wish was a dream. Her lifeless body. In a pool of red liquid. "Y/n?" Tears formed in my eyes. "Y/N PLEASE WAKE UP!" I called 911, as I talked on the phone, I broke down, tears streaming down my face. This is all my fault.

I tried putting pressure on her wounds, but the bleeding didn't stop and the paramedics were taking to long. I picked her up, her cold lifeless body in my arms, her apartment was on the fifth floor, I had to run down the stairs with her, as I ran down the stairs I yelled for help. "HELP" "SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!!" I kept saying, until I reached the ground floor, where I met with the paramedics.

They put her onto a stretcher, bandaged her wounds as much as possible, and then put her into the ambulance. I got in the ambulance with her, and held her cold but soft hand the whole way there. I felt terrible, I never meant for any of this to happen.

We arrived at the hospital and they took her in to get stitches since her wounds were deep, so I had to sit in the waiting room until they called my name. After about 45 minutes I got called to the back, "Samantha Carpenter, Y/n L/n is out of surgery, she isn't awake but if you want, you can go wait in her room until she is." "Thank you, I'll go wait with her, what's her room number." I'm glad she was alive, I still feel terrible, all I felt was guilt, if I didn't argue with her and if I just chose to stay in NY, maybe none of this would have happened. "314." Said the lady at the front desk, I walked to room 314, my footsteps grew quicker within each step I took.

I finally reached her room, I opened the door, and pulled a chair next to her bed. She was still asleep, I hated seeing her like this, I just can't help but think this is all my fault. I sat beside her bed, with my head down and one hand on the bed. After a few minutes, I felt a warm and soft touch on top of my hand, I look up, her beautiful y/e/c (your eye color), eyes were looking directly at me, while she was smiling.

"Omg, Y/n, thank god you're okay, I was so worried, I thought you weren't gonna make it, listen I'm so sorry, I never meant for any of this to happen, this is all my fault, I never wanted to leave NY, and especially leave you, I don't think I will leave NY now because I need to keep you safe, but I shouldn't have argued or even yelled, and I feel especially terrible for bringing up the mental health thing, I didn't mean it I swear, I promise you that I never meant to hurt you, I'm so sorry, ple-" I was ranting until I felt her soft lips press against mine, we kissed until we both ran out of breath. "I forgive you sam, I know you didn't mean it, I love you so much" She pulled me into a kiss again, this time a quicker one. "I love you more, I'm never leaving you again." I said, before I hugged her, I hugged her tighter than I ever have before, but also tried avoiding her injuries while hugging her, I love her to the stars and beyond.

A/N I wrote this whole thing while being half a sleep, and really distracted because my bsf was over while I wrote this and I kept pausing in the middle so we could talk to each other. I can't really tell if I like this or not, I don't 100% love the little fight scene at the beginning but idk, there are things that I could fix with both of them. Idk but let me know if you want anymore, also thank you to whoever reads these because I think these are shitty a lot of time and seeing that people actually read this makes me happy so thank you so much!! <3

UPDATE: I HATE THIS SM, THE FIGHT SCENE IS LOWKEY STUPID BC I DON'T THINK SAM WOULD SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT, BUT HERE IS ANOTHER ONE FROM WATTPAD THAT WAS MADE IN MAY😭😭

[emmalostinwonderland]

Emma Happy Friday!! and a Ficlet prompt for ya

🥾 Walking tour for firstprince plz 💚

Thanks for the ask! I also got a 🥾 from @tailsbeth so this is for both of y’all. Sorry for the late submission 🫣

This is just absolutely un-fucking-fair. Alex has been giving food tours in New York for a couple years now – it's the perfect side gig for a college student trying to stay in shape and get to know a new city – but despite bad weather and Karens and the occasional scheduling issue, he’d never been tempted to quit on the spot. Until now, of course. This one guy with his blondness and his posh accent and his pink, pouty lips has no business taking his tour and practically fellating everything they try. He looks like he’s having an orgasmic experience at each stop on the tour, and Alex is… barely coping. “Oh, it’s been absolutely ages since I’ve had good gelato,” the guy moans at their Eataly stop. “This is just divine.” “I can’t say I disagree,” his companion, the beautiful, dark-skinned man with teal hair, replies. Alex briefly considers the appeal of being the filling in their sandwich so-to-speak before he shakes the thoughts away. Keep it professional, he thinks to himself. Blondie doesn’t seem to notice his blatant thirsting anyway, thank fuck. He’s moved on to asking Fashion Colors what kind of gelato he ordered. “Pretty sure it’s technically sorbetto, dear heart, but I simply could not ignore the passionfruit. My instincts were correct, of course; it’s delightful. What’s yours then? Mint?” “Pistachio.” Oh and how Alex both loves and loathes the way this guy pronounces pistachio with a hard C like the Italians do. So pretentious, and yet… well. “Ah, of course. You always have been a slut for the nut though, Haz.” “Pez! Some bloody decorum, if you please,” Blondie hisses at the other guy, and Alex can’t help but scoff. “Like you’re one to talk.” Both men turn and stare openly at him, leaving Alex to finally realize that he was the one who just fucking said that. So much for a good review. “Pardon?” Blondie asks, looking incredulous. Alex glances around to make sure his other tour group members are distracted. “You’ve eaten everything this afternoon like you’re filming an OnlyFans video, man. Not judging, just like… I dunno, I assumed you knew.” “I– I absolutely have not,” he splutters, his forgotten gelato dripping onto his fingers and nearly driving Alex to distraction once again. His mouth has gone completely dry, and he lets his subconscious run wild imagining all the scenarios in which he could lick the guy’s fingers clean. “Well,” the other man (Pez? Surely not his real name) adds in, “he’s not entirely wrong, darling.” Blondie looks like he wants to melt right through the sidewalk along with his pistachio gelato. “It’s cool, plenty of couples are like that,” Alex says as casually as he can manage. The words burn his throat on the way out. “Are y’all newlyweds? Honeymoon in the Big Apple?” “What? Us?” Blondie’s shock is about equal to his horror. His companion doubles over laughing. “Pez, stand up, you’re making a scene. We, er– no.” “No?” Pez, wiping tears from his eyes, straightens up. “No. Lifelong mates, though only in the English sense. Henry here is completely unattached, in fact. You wouldn’t happen to know any strapping young lads seeking a hopeless romantic with a fondness for good food? He’s new to the area, you see, and I think he’d benefit from being shown around the city.” “Fucks sake, Pez–” “Funny you should ask because I do have someone in mind, as a matter of fact.” Pez grins as Henry falls silent. “Do tell.” Alex clears his throat. “He’s actually a tour guide, so he’s friends with half the restaurant owners around here and can get a last-minute reservation practically anywhere. And he’s free tonight.” “Please be referring to yourself,” Henry says softly. “I don’t mean to overstep, of course, but–” “I’m absolutely referring to myself, sweetheart. Can I take you out after this?” “I’d like that very much.” Pez claps each of them on the shoulder. “Wonderful. You two go on mooning over each other; I shall be inside buying more pasta than I know what to do with. Henry, I’ll see you at home eventually — don’t hurry back.”

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: Odd Squad UK -- "Odd Ones In" Episode Followup, Part 3

And so we move on to Part 3, la-dee-dee, la-dee-dee.

Let's go!

I noted this before, but the fact that they now have a special effect for when gadgets are combined so that it makes a new gadget entirely is a fucking hell of an upgrade over the "stacking" we got before, so to speak. Keep it up!

Not gonna lie, I half-expected the man to whip out a fedora and throw it on his head and do the "m'lady" meme.

Opie being in the Mail Department before going to the Department of Help is honestly a move I was not expecting. Though it does make her promotion to the latter department make a lot of sense.

*slowly raises hand*

...

Are they lesbian mo- *bonk x3*

Had I not seen an ice cream shop in a garage with barn doors before, I'd have laughed at this and said this was insanely weird shit.

...Okay, maybe not for Britain...but still.

The audio balancing is so awful here that even I had to cover my ears. And keep in mind that I may have autism, but my hearing sensory issues largely ebbed away a good several years ago and things like vacuums don't bother me as much anymore as they did in childhood.

That being said, I'd scream if I were being served to people so they could eat me, too.

Keep hammering it in, episode, and maybe your audience's feeble minds will be able to comprehend it as real soon enough.

ONE MORE SHOT FOR "ASSISTANT'S CREE-EEEED", ONE MORE SHOT OF WHISKEEEEEEEEEEEY-

The fact that an Un-Scream-inator exists at all raises some very horrifying questions.

It also makes a wonderful prompt for a horror fic...and my gears are turning already.

See, this is amusing to me because Full Circle, a well-known fic in the fandom, had Olive and Oscar being given free meals for saving the world.

In a way...I guess you could say this makes that canon, even if it's just ice cream.

*the most bitter, fake laughter ever seen in man*

I can see now why he's associated with the Terrible Three. The bastard spins stories with enough skill to make it in fucking politics and denies a girl a chance for free ice cream when she just arrived in a new city.

But also, Orla was also involved in a pastry war, does not enjoy traditional cakes (at least not until later), and is one of the "living legend" agents I mentioned earlier. Thread's been cut, and fuck you and your scummy shit, Ozzie.

the man fakes his new friend having trauma from fighting in a war

she eats the ice cream anyway

The irony is rawer than freshly-cut steak.

...I'm sorry, I had to replay this at least five times to make sure I heard what I heard...

The Odd Squad History Book?

There's a fucking history book???

Then what in the ass-laden fuck did we need Olympia's eidetic Odd Squad memory for? What did we need Olive's little historian side for? What kind of ASS-BACKWARDS BOOK IS THIS.

I'm sorry, but I need them to rectify this yesterday because the only way they could possibly add insult to injury is to shout me out directly, and that has a 0.001% chance of actually happening.

Fandom, let's get crackin' on making an actual history book that's accurate. With blackjack, and all 13 living-legend agents!

"I'm Orli with an 'i', from Niagara Falls."

"Which side?"

"I- what?"

"There are two sides, no?"

"...The Canada side."

"Oh."

"Anyone who goes to the New York side is deemed unfit to serve."

"...Oh."

"You don't wanna know."

"No, I don't."

"It seems that all the oddness has been getting under control."

Suddenly the plot of the finale is making a lot more sense to me now. "Strength in numbers" is a very lost concept on this Director and her agents.

"Hold on, that thing was an egg?!"

Suddenly the theory of Opie not being here for very long makes a lot more sense to me now. "Failing a spot check" is a very lost concept on this agent.

Oh, this guy and his dramatic gasps...Lord, I love him.

If Ozzie thinks some random-ass agent named Orly from Texas is the best agent in the world, then do I got about 13 bridges to sell him.

And before I sell him those bridges, I'm knocking down the pedestal he's placed Orly on.

To be fair, she does have a point...but the girl is taking being in a new country a bit too casually for my liking.

You're telling me my dumb lil' American ass can land in Britain and be accustomed to it in the span of a few hours? Off you will fuck. No way in hell.

"Everything seems really quiet here."

Even if I hadn't read "and Captain O unable to help" from the synopsis, I would have already taken this as a red flag shoved into my eye holes.

Oh, the inverse dolly zoom! I don't think we've seen that trick before. Nice to see!

Onom's busy running in place telling them about the egg, and Orli, the cheerful innocent gal she is, decides this is a good time to introduce herself.

Bless her heart, and I mean that so genuinely it even hurts me.

Okay, I wasn't expecting the screaming and running agent-in-training in the background. That's a delightful touch and a great mix-up from the days of yore when background agents, for the most part, just existed.

It's...his name...IS SHORT FOR ONOMATOPOEIA????????

WE ESTABLISHED THAT WAS DR. O'S FULL-ASS NAME IN ODDTUBE FOREVER AND A HALF AGO HOW FUCKING DARE YOU.

This, folks, is why the staff needs fans on the team.

Let's be honest: if this episode weren't all over the place, this would have been a much longer gag than it actually is.

And frankly, I'm glad it wasn't that long at all.

Oh they didn't just seal her in an ice cube -- they sealed her in ice IN THE FUCKING ROOM OF ODDNESS.

For a newly-hatched creature, that is downright fucking sadistic, strong-ass Director or not. At least when Oprah was frozen in an ice cube she was fine. Same goes for Oscar, and same goes for the Mobile Unit agents.

Aaaand another shot of alcohol for "Dance Like Nobody's Watching" ripping!

...mmmmmthworldspsinnign...

Onom is easily my favorite character of the main cast and I haven't even gotten through the entire episode yet. The man is just vibing. He's a chill vibin' man. How can I not love him?

Okay, this is just as sadistic. It's trapping agents in rooms and letting them freeze to death, which is arguably worse than just trapping them unmoving in blocks of ice.

(On to Part 4!)

[sporco-filth]

media with slob stuff

there are lots of tv shows and so on that have slob-related stuff and sometimes you see them once and can never find them again

anyway this is a list of a few i remember:

Joe's Apartment: a movie about a guy who moves to New york and he's (to quote one of the characters) "the dirtiest freakin' slob on the planet". His apartment is infested with talking cockroaches and developers want to tear down the apartment block so the cockroaches (who love him bc he's a slob) help him save his apartment. the cockroaches also sing. it is all-around pretty gross and i'm here for that

Him & Her: a series about a couple who are slobs and kinda gross in a domestic-cute sort of way. i don't think you can find many eps of it online and the very first ep which had some scenes i really liked i haven't seen anywhere. i only really watched ep 1 all the way through tho so i can't really vouch for the rest of the show

Portlandia: one episode has the gay brother of a character (and his boyfriend) coming to stay and she and her husband are disappointed that they're not the stereotypically neat and stylish gays. the gay guys make a mess of the house. there's not much more than that but it was hot to me when i first saw it

Pigsty: an old sitcom that didn't last very long centred around a bunch of guys sharing an apartment. ive never watched a full episode but the opening sequence is slob-related enough for me to include it

Buzzfeed stuff: 'Weird things guys do when they're alone', 'Lazy things all guys have done' and 'You at home alone vs. with people': all of these involve a range of gross habits and behaviours.

The Simpsons: there's a lot in the simpsons because homer is a fat lazy slob to a t, but special attention must be paid to Bart after dark for its trash angels scene and Bart's dental hygiene. Also the opening of Bart gets an elephant. there are too many episodes that have aspects of slob in them so i'll stop here

Parks and Rec: Andy and April's house. To quote Andy "it's a mess!" Sadly Ben cleans it up (boo...)

The Office: I never got this far but at some point Jim moves in with Darryl and then they have an odd couple dynamic going on. nothing really exciting but i remembered it so eh why not add it

Futurama: Fry is a total slob and i love him for it. sorry if this is too much information but the first time i ever came i was thinking about him being a slob. like the Simpsons there are too many good moments but a stand out is 'How Hermes Requisitioned His Groove Back' where an inspector has an affair with Fry because she has a fetish for slobs. what can i say, she has good taste in men

The Heron's Cry: a book, it has one character who is a slob, but he only appears in one scene which i'll quote excerpts of because it's short (there's more i didn't quote but this is the best bit):

...there was a kitchen littered with pizza boxes and foil containers from takeaway restaurants. Empty beer cans. A smell that would set alarms ringing with environmental health. [Steve] expert was wearing a filthy fleece dressing gown. Nothing else as far as Ross could tell. He stood, blinking. "Fuck, man, what do you want? This feels like the middle of the night." "It's mid-morning…"

The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole and its sequel The Growing pains of Adrian Mole: Adrian helps an elderly man called Bert who is a total slob. They clean out his house and it is an endeavour. Favourite part of this scene though is this line: "Bert has been sitting in a deckchair criticising and complaining. He can’t see what’s wrong with living in a dirty house. What is wrong with living in a dirty house?" Nothing, in my opinion. There are other scenes too. Adrian's mother is a slob and there's even a bit where she chides him on being so fussy and not messy like a 'normal' teenager. I know there's more but my memory fails me right now

Friends: there's two main ones that come to mind: the one with the dirty girl (obvious reasons) and the one where ross and rachel you know (which to me is known as the one where joey and chandler get recliners).

Kotaro Lives Alone: Karino is a lazy manga artist whose apartment is a mess. The part that got me was when he wondered if he should take a shower and then he goes 'nah, i'm good'. He gets more on top of things after he meets Kotaro, but he's still pretty lazy after ep 1

Very random thing, but this ad for JBS underwear. It's a woman dressed in male underwear behaving like a stereotypical man and it covers a lot of categories for me

Stardew Valley: Shane. that's all i really have to say but in particular his spouse room and his comments about his weight

Spiritfarer: a video game. one of the spirits you can get on your boat is Jackie and he starts out with a messy, trash-filled room. he also dislikes healthy food. he ends up cleaning up his act though.

[spoopydooblr]

My King Will Be Kind Chapter 1 / Kendall Roy x OC

an: hiiiiiiiii first time posting here ughhhh anyways enjoy this kendall fic bc i binged succession with my roommate

pairing: Kendall Roy x Original Female Character

tw: mentions of drug use, cursing

Stella fixed her black Valentino dress in the bathroom mirror of the club. She looked okay.  Not bad, not great.  It was hour three at the club, and Stella was really over it.  The bass felt like it was pumping through the walls. She needed a break from the craziness. It was usually like this, work all week and stupid events like this all weekend. And this weekend was her friend's birthday.  

Not that she didn't love her friends—or the free drinks.  And the guys could be fun...sometimes.  Tonight they partied with some semi-professional baseball players who were okay at best.  One even tried to follow her into the bathroom, but she declined.  

Even now, four movies and two shows under her belt, Stella struggled to a guy that actually gave a fuck.  Her most recent role, a side character in HBO's Delirium, was by-far her biggest break.  They had just wrapped season two, so she was taking some time in New York to work on her writing.  By dumb luck a studio was interested in her writing and wanted some pilots.  After spending the last few years in Los Angeles, Stella decided to come back to the east coast for a bit.  

So here she was now, walking back from the bathroom of some club, trying to think of the best excuse to leave the party and get the fuck home.  Stella weaved through the VIP line, arriving at the private section where her friends were.  The baseball guys were still evident, but two other men--in very expensive suits--stood with the group.  She made her way over, grabbing a drink from the waiter.  It was time to find the birthday girl and say goodbye.  Stella spied her friend from across the room, but was interrupted by one of the suit-men.  She immediately recognized him.

"Roman Roy." He stuck out his hand.  

Roman Roy.  Son of media bigwig Logan Roy.  Stella knew exactly who he was.  Not that she was a big fan of business stuff, but she knew all about ATN and their hateful broadcasting.  She knew all about his billionaire family and their insane antics.  

She shook his hand reluctantly.

"So you're a big deal I hear?" He laughed. "Well I've never heard of you."

"I've been in a few movies—" She started, but is again interrupted by him.

"Argh, actress, never mind." Roman scoffed at her and made his way to another one of her friends.

Stella was just drunk enough to feel pretty embarrassed. Normally, she would brush something like this off, but he was an important person in the city.  The Roy's could make or break her career if they really wanted to.  They controlled the media.  Hell, they were the media.  

"Hey. I'm sorry about my brother." A deep voice said from her side. "He's a fuck."

Stella looked at the man who was now in front of her. The first thing she noticed was how tired he looked.  The second was that he was Kendall Roy.  And he was just as hot in person.  

"Oh, um, it's okay."

"I'm Kendall, by the way." He held out his hand. He had a fancy ring on his pinkie finger.

"Stella."

"Matchstick Funeral." He said.

Stella couldn't help but light up. "Yes!"

It was one of her first roles. She played Jude Law's estranged daughter. That was three years ago, now.

"It's my uh, ex-wife's favorite movie."

Stella laughs, accidentally. "Sorry, um, wow, I feel like a lot of people don't remember that film."

"It's so fuckin good."

"God, thank you, wow."

They stood there for a minute.

Stella decided to play dumb. "So what do you do?"

Kendall laughed nervously. "Uh—"

Stella batted her eyelashes, then laughed, "I'm kidding, jeez!"

"Oh," Kendall smiled. "I suppose you're familiar."

"With the sexual abuse on the cruises?" She continues. "Or your rap song?"

Kendall scoffs.

"Before I was, um, like this." Stella gets quieter. "I loved celebrities and all that. I read like, every magazine." It was true, she loved stealing her mother's People Magazine as a kid.  

"Ah, I'm surprised you're even talking to me, then."

"Me too."

"Do you wanna uh, go outside?"

She was still a little unsure about him, but she wasn't really a fan of crowds and honestly really needed to smoke.

"Yeah, sure."

Kendall led her to a private balcony. Stella had never been to this part of the club, even with her own notoriety.

"Do you smoke?" Kendall revealed a pack of American Spirit yellow.

"Well," Stella rummaged through her Prada purse. "Not nicotine." She pulled out a joint.

"Need a light?" Kendall asked, moving towards her. Stella put the joint in her mouth, leaning over to Kendall's lighter. She pulled away quickly after, the scene becoming more and more intimate.

This was the same guy that yelled "Fuck the Patriarchy" to paparazzi last year. And he could be her dad. He probably wasn't that old, but he had to be a good ten years older. At least.  She remembered the tabloid photos of him snorting cocaine off of a strippers boobs.  Didn't he have a couple of kids, too?

Stella took a long drag of her joint.

"Can I get a hit?" Kendall stated, and it's as if they're teenagers hiding weed from their parents.

She nodded, handing him the joint.  He didn't look like he was on anything else, so she obliged.  

He took a long drag and looked her up and down.  She felt objectified, but it kind of turned her on.  Kendall probably knew that.  

"I bought a fucking company today."

"What?"

"Me and my siblings.  We bought Pierce."  She kind of knew what he was talking about, based on the Twitter trending page from that morning.  #Roy was third on the page.  

Stella laughed,  "Congrats, Kendall."  She touched his arm, mentally noting to stop drinking and smoking so much.  It was crazy to her, all this.  He casually dropped billions of dollars and goes to the club.  

"If I called a car right now, would you want to uh, go to my place?"

Stella couldn't believe it. Kendall fucking Roy.

"I don't really do that sort of thing, I'm sorry. It's like an image thing, and I'm so young I can't—"

"Of course." He looked genuinely disappointed.

Stella cursed internally as she whispered, "do you want my number?"

"What?"

Stella rolled her eyes. "You heard me."

"Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it again." He smirked.

[lulupen2023]

My very first BellDom fic 7/23

If someone is reading I'm happy, if they leave a sign, any sign, well, I'm happier ;)

Summary:

Do you want to meet a Matthew who sees conspiracy everywhere (oh wait, this is not big news!) and is so fond of his trolley that he treat it like a sort of puppy? Do you want to meet a Dominic in love with… himself (and with Matt, too, of course!)? And do you want to meet a Chris who wants to prove to the world he's the most masculine guy ever… but is unavoidably attracted by every… female hobby? This is what you'll find in this story, among lots of BellDom and… craziness!

Summary of the chapter: Matt and Dom have something to worry about…

Notes:

Sorry, I've tried anything but there's nothing to do, sometimes the format of this chapter gets odd and the text begins where it shouldn't... I hope you'll manage to read it anyway

Chapter VII: It's Not Helping At All

Once their show is done, as they head towards the backstage , Muse comment the crowd's reaction, and they seem pretty satisfied.

"I was sure there would be a cold silent, broken just by some murmurs, such as 'who the fuck are these people? '. Instead, they smiled, clapped their hands.. and * sang *!" Matthew exults.

"Yeah, and not only the chorus of the most famous hits. Someone knew even 'Take a Bow ' or 'City of Delusion' !" Chris exults.

"Plus, I don't think it was just my imagination, but I heard some of them saying three or four times calling us by name. not simply the band name, I mean our personal ones!" Dominic exults.

"I guess it's one more step towards our conquer of the States!" Matthew states, enthused.

"Well, don't rush things, it's just a small part of New York, it's too soon to jump to conclusion... " Dom makes him notice.

"Yes, but it was a positive start, we shouldn't underestimate that... " Matt comments.

"What do you think, Chris?" Dominic calls for him, but he gets no answers.

"Chris?" Matt calls for him, with the same result.

They look behind their back, turn again and take a look all around the room, realizing that their friend is nowhere to be found.

"Oh my, someone kidnapped him!" Dom gets alarmed.

"How the hell can you think that?" Matt wonders.

"I don't know why ... but I've been thinking about kidnapping all day long.. " the other justifies.

"So, tell me, how could that happen? First, we're not alone.. " Matt makes him notice, pointing at two technicians who are bringing there their instruments, after taking them from the stage.

"Who assures you that it's not them the kidnappers and theirs is just a cover?" Dominic observes.

"Ok, let's say it's true, my dear Sherlock Holmes wannabe, can you explain why the hell did we notice nothing. Since we were here with him?" Matthew puts him in trouble.

Dom meditates for a while and then he seems to be enlightened.

"The technicians kidnapped him, we tried to stop them, but we failed. Then, after taking him away, they brought time back with the machine that I was supposed to invent .. that's why we remember nothing about that!" the blond explains, but the most worrying thing is that he seems very convinced of what he's saying.

Matthew looks at him in a mix of confusion, concern, sympathy and.. fear.

"Maybe Chris had some point with that comment about illicit drugs. And the worst thing is that you didn't even offer, you, egoist!" the brunette pretends to scold him.

"First, I didn't take any bloody thing. And second, you're already illicit on your own!" the other strikes back promptly, and then he notices that his interlocutor is absorbed in his thoughts, as if another hypothesis is about to pop in his mind.

And that's what happens for real.

"You know.. the kidnapping thing isn't so absurd after all.. But it's not due to a blackmail, it's due to a sabotage. I bet the five dark whelps did it, because, after seeing our brilliant performance , they are rightly afraid of going on the stage and looking like the newbie they actually are. So, they took our bassist away to prevent us from performing in the other dates!" Matt deducts, and he also looks worryingly convinced of what he states.

"Damn you, Bells, why the hell do you see conspiracies everywhere?" Dom rolls his eyes.

"Because conspiracies *are * everywhere!" the other simply strikes back.

"And how do you explain the fact that we didn't noticed that at all?" the blond interrogates him.

"Maybe that odd machine you keep blathering about exists for real.. " the other supposes and they both look kind of anguished .

One of the technician approaches to them.

"Excuse me, I couldn't help haring you.. " he exclaims.

Dominic stress at him, doubtful and disbelieving , ready to call the police if there's the need. Also Matthew stares at him, trying to figure out if the technician is one of the My Chemical Romance, disguised due to what he thinks that is a mission of sabotage.

The technician is a little scared by their inquisitive looks, but he goes on anyway.

"I was saying.. don't take that as an offence, but.. are you aware of the idiot things you say? Maybe you didn't notice, but truth is that your friend just happened to go out to have a walk.. " he explains to them and they both seem to be relieved.

"After all, that was the most obvious explanation, how can it be that you didn't even consider that ?" he adds, looking at them as if they escaped from a mad house.

"The most obvious explanation are so boring.. it's not fun to consider them!" Matthew shrugs.

"Well, that's not a good reason for even thinking of taking into consideration what looks like a kind of sci-fi romance.. of a bad quality, too!" the man strikes back.

"Hey, no one asked for your opinion, why don't you come back doing your job? I already know what car your colleague has got, it wouldn't take me so long to find even yours!" Dominic warns him, waving the precedent key as if it was the most terrifying weapon of the world.

"Yeah. And I could smash a guitar on that!" Matt adds.

Scared not by their threats, but mostly by their mental sanity that seems not to be so stable, the technician prudently leaves, coming back to his colleague.

"So, Chris just took a walk.. "Dom comments.

"Yes, but it's so unexpected and out of the blue.. " the other observes.

"And without even warning us. Almost as if he was.. bothered.. " the blond adds.

"Oh my god, no! Maybe he's sick of us and wants to leave the band!" Matthew gets alarmed.

"I guess you're right. And maybe the phone call with Kelly, this afternoon.. was just a cover. Maybe he's already trying to contact another band!" Dominic gets alarmed.

And as they both concentrate in order to find a solution to what they already consider a colossal drama, taking a look around they realize that they have another reason why they can get alarmed, seriously. The technicians finished setting their instruments and left in order to set the ones of the main band and that will take them a lot.

So now Dominic and Matthew are all alone in a big room.

"Oh, no! We're alone... again!" Matt observes.

"Yes, but you know it doesn't have to be a dangerous thing every time.. " Dom comments.

"Yeah. Just because we happened to get way too close to each other twice, three times or four ones.. Gee, how many times did it happen?"

"Don't ask me that. I lost the count!" the other rolls his eyes.

"But this time it won't happen!" he states resolutely, immediately after.

"Damn right. We can be left alone.. without any worrying consequences.. " the other nods.

They can lie to each other with their words as much as they please. Too bad that they can't do that with their eyes, and it's enough just one look for them both to realize that.

Dom glances at his drums and gets closer to it.

"This atmosphere is getting too tense. And do you which is the best way to give vent to the tension? To play a little.. " the blond declares, drawing out the drumsticks from the rear pocket of his jeans and starting to hit the several parts of the instrument.

Matt approaches to him, staring at him without saying anything, but the other notices that and stops.

"What?" he wonders, kinda disturbed.

"Nothing. It's just that you're so cute when you're all engrossed into playing.. " Matt admits.

"This is not helping .. " Dominic warns him, blushing against his will.

"But it's the truth.. " the other insists, approaching to his guitar.

"Anyway, you're right, we must do something to release the tension.. " he goes on, wearing the strip of his guitar.

"Are you going to play a little bit, too?" the other asks him naively.

"Not exactly.. " his interlocutor smirks.

"Well, I'm going to quit, too, then.." the blond announces, ready to get up.

"No, way, sit down again!" the brunette summons him.

"But.. if you don't want to play.. then I don't understand why you want me to.. " Dom protest but then realization hits him.

"Aren't you going to... " he figures out, without even finishing the sentence.

"Hell yeah I am!" the other announces, backing off as much as he needs to take one run-up.

"Am I wrong or aren't you the person who got very concerned for his guitar? You'll end up scratching it or leave a dent on it." Dom makes him notice. " That's not the point. The other people must treat my guitars carefully, I can do whatever I please with them!" he points out. "Plus, it won't be anything that our dear Manson guy can't repair!" he shrugs.

"I don't think it's a good idea.. " the blond tries to make him reason.

"But I do. C'mon, it will distract us. It will be fun. Besides, we haven't done that for ages!" the brunet insists. "Yeah, but we're not on stage.. and there's not even any crowd!" the drummer makes him notice. "Who ever told you that I did that for the crowd?" the front-man raises one eyebrow.

"But I do. C'mon, it will distract us. It will be fun. Besides, we haven't done that for ages!" the brunet insists. "Yeah, but we're not on stage.. and there's not even any crowd!" the drummer makes him notice. "Who ever told you that I did that for the crowd?" the front-man raises one eyebrow.

"Matt, I've already told you not to.." "Too late, I'm already doing that!" he cuts him off, making a noteworthy jump and then he smashes against the drums, crashing the several parts on the floor and involving even its owner in the fall.

"Matt, I've already told you not to.." "Too late, I'm already doing that!" he cuts him off, making a noteworthy jump and then he smashes against the drums, crashing the several parts on the floor and involving even its owner in the fall.

Despite some bruises, the two guys find the situation kind of exhilarating and burst out laughing. Matt tries to get up, but Dominic has a better idea.

"You, stubborn mad guy, you'll pay for what you did to my poor drums!" he hurls towards his friend, keeping his arms behind his head and pinning him on the floor.

"After all, it's just a bunch of scrap iron and there's no so much difference between the noise it made now and the one it makes whenever you play it!" Matt teases him on purpose, managing not only to get free but also to switch the roles.

"Hey, that's unfair!" Dom protests and he's pinned by Matt much more than he was by him.

"What? The things I did or the things I've said?" the other sneers.

"Both of them.. " Dom admits, until they both realize something unexpected.. something that wasn't supposed to happen.

If they found the situation exhilarating before, now it seems that they find it also very, very, *very * pleasant.

And it's enough just a mutual and sudden bulge under the belt of their jeans for them to get the feared confirmation.

"Shit!" Matthew exclaims.

"Shit!" Dominic echoes him.

"What the hell is going on?" the first wonders.

"Whatever it is, it's not helping at all!" the blond states.

They both keep silent, staring at each other for a bunch of seconds, without any attempt to move.

"We should better get up.. " the blond suggests.

"Yes, we should. But I don't want to do that.. " Matt admits.

"And I don't want you to do that.. " the other admits, as they exchange the umpteenth dangerous look.

"Do you realize that it's something damn insane and blameworthy ?" the brunette murmurs, and the only fact that he's murmuring it shows how much he is not finding it negative at all.

"Do you realize that I couldn't care less?" Dom murmurs, taking advantage of his interlocutor's temporary distraction enough to set his arms free and wrap them around his neck.

"Neither could I.. " the other confesses, feeling the sudden urge to establish a contact with those soft lips once again.

He bents over him, in order to make their mouths skimmer , but a noise at the door make them startle and quit that romantic purpose.

"Guys, you must get out with me, because I've found.." Chris exclaims, getting in all cheerful, but he stops abruptly when he sees Matt and Dom laying on the floor, one upon the other , in the middle of what remains of the drums and a dented guitar with the 'e' chord broken.

"I can't believe it. Did you play the fight.. again?" he comments, shaking his head. "Uh, yeah.. the fight.. right.. " Matt blathers, getting up, wishing that that 'collateral effect ' of that contact could fade out before Chris notices that.

"You know.. it was just a way to will the time away.. " Dom adds, mirroring both of Matt's actions and hopes.

"What were you talking about?" Matt asks him with nonchalance. "I found outside, at the barriers, a group of fans that came here just for us!" a grinning Chris explains, and since he's so excited it's practically impossible that he could notice anything else.

"Really?" Matt looks for confirmations. "It's the truth. And the fact that I found them already outside proves that. they couldn't care less about the headliners! And the coolest thing is that they're not fans who followed us from London. No way, they're just Americans!" the other informs them, more and more excited.

"Alright! One score for us, in spite of the Living Dead!" Matt exults. "It's fantastic! Well, the least we can do is to go outside and say thanks to them properly.. " Dom suggests.

"That's why I called you. C'mon, hurry up and reach me at the gates with the fans, they deserve it!" Chris smiles, ready to go, but he turns one last time.

"Hey, guess what they said? They said that they like * all of us * , * without any exceptions* , it would be enough just * one member missing * and it wouldn't be the same anymore, the * band * wouldn't work anymore. It works only if * we all stay together *!" he keeps underlining the concept, before leaving.

"So, I guess we were wrong. Chris is not going to leave the band!" Dom comments, very relieved, as both he and Matt clean out that mess.

"You're kidding, aren't you? Chris gave us the worst answer ever!" Matt protests, very alarmed. "But.. he said that we must remain together.. all of us!" Dom makes him notice, kind of puzzled. "Exactly!" the other underlines the fact.

"Damn you, Bells, is there any absurd, recondite and odd reason why what you're saying has at least a semblance of logical sense?" Dom stares at him, more and more confused, as he massages his temples, afraid that he's about to have a terrible headache.

"Yes, there is, but now there's no time for explanations. We'll talk as soon as we have the chance. Now we must go.. " the other comments, walking towards the door.

Dominic follows him, but then he stops. "What?" Matthew asks him, turning to him. "When will we ever talk about what's going on between you and me?" the blond wonders, a little bit insecure.

Matt gets closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll find time even for us.. " he whispers, with a sweet smile and a look plenty of promises.

They walk though the corridors, reaching the gates, as that 'us' echoes in Dom's mind as the warmest word he has ever heard.

TBC

The fight is something they really did.

I hope you'll still like it, but fell free to tell me anything, as always !

[sweetmusingss]

Oscar glanced over at you before biting his lip nervously as he glanced at you. “I don’t know if I want to have that conversation.. It’s just going to make me look pathetic,” he said a little nervously. He also wasn’t crazy about hearing how many people you had sex with in the past. He had always been insanely jealous when hearing you talk about your sex life, hating to think about anyone else touching you or getting to have you. It wasn’t like it was a secret that he wasn’t exactly promiscuous. He was a little self-conscious and he only ever had sex with someone he wasn’t dating once. And it left him feeling really weird, always just being a relationship guy. “I haven’t had sex with very many women.. Only ones I was dating except for once. But you can probably do the math. I haven’t really been in a lot of relationships in the past five years,” he said, knowing it was probably pathetic that he didn’t hop into bed with anyone else just because he was pining after you. The only one night stand he had was a result of him getting drunk and miserable after having to be around you and Charles acting all loved up.

“You’re not pathetic for only having sex with women you are dating, baby. There is nothing pathetic about that. It’s admirable, really. I just have Daddy issues so I assume the way to fix it is by jumping into bed with men as soon as I meet them... but we don’t need to discuss it if you don’t want to. It will just make me look like a slut anyways if your number is like 3 and mine is... well, higher. I just figured since we are engaged now, you may be curious but it’s okay.” I wasn’t fully ashamed of the number of men I’d slept with, but Oscar was... judgmental. He hated Charles and now I understood why, but still, Oscar could often be harsh and judgmental when it came to discussing my love life so it was probably better that he didn’t hear my number which was probably double his. “I kinda want ice cream... like a hot fudge sundae.” I change the subject, not wanting to make Oscar uncomfortable.

__

I swallow hard when hearing what you asked me. “I don’t really trust that easily.. I have had stuff go missing before just to find out it was stolen. I have only had this place for two years but my old place in New York, I had a lot of issues with stalkers,” I admit to you, there being things I hadn’t told you yet. I just wasn’t very good at opening up about my trauma, wanting to pretend that it wasn’t there. “I know not everyone wants to hurt me or take advantage of me but I have been in too many bad situations. And there’s the whole being put down about my ‘girly’ or 'immature’ taste in past relationships. I don’t give people ammunition to judge me,” I say honestly to you, my brows furrowed. “I was engaged once too but he didn’t love me. He only loved my fame and my lifestyle. This is the first time that I feel like someone I am dating actually sees me.”

Max’s eyes widen in anger when you say that people have stolen from you and that you deal with stalkers and that someone else took advantage of your kind heart just to get closer to your bank account, “Oh my god... I could kill all of them. Anyone who ever hurt you, physically, mentally, or financially. I hate to say that it doesn’t shock me, you’re so famous that of course stalkers and shitty men and fake friends come with the territory, but that doesn’t mean you deserve it. I’m sure you have a state of the art security system here, but I’m gonna get my guy from Monaco out here to give you the one I have.” This is where Max was definitely the most controlling, when it came to people he loved being safe. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with all of that, baby... I am never going to judge you. Sleep with 100 stuffed animals and use sippy cups for all I care. Dress in pink from head to toe and only refer to me as Daddy for the rest of your life, I don’t care, I will never judge you for your likes or dislikes or anything like that. You are fucking incredible, and you have the biggest kindest sweetest heart out of anyone I know... thank you for trusting me, schatje.”

[tyonfs]

okay my updates r gonna have to be split in like chronological order bc this is just too much for one ANYWAYS. let’s start with new york.

so as we know i used to live in new york and i have a couple childhood friends who live there. my one friend who’s a girl we were inseparable and at first i was scared to meet her when we went but oh boy do i DESPISE HER. she’s such a pick me and she likes to act so fucking different. her humor is like 2020 AND SHE DRESSES LIKE IT TOO.

one thing about me is i’m a family girl and for some reason my mom was like oh let’s take to the cemetery with us to see your grandparents and i’m like??? anyways when we went and we were there praying i noticed she kept looking around and trying not to laugh and my mom sent me and her to the car she literally was like why r u so serious they’ve been dead 12 years like wow! just wow!

enough of that girl i’m already getting mad.

let’s talk about the one who’s a boy… oh boy. his name is arsal and oh my god when i saw him in new jersey it’s like i swept off my feet back to when we were kids. when i first got to his house he didn’t say much besides hi and how are you and when our parents forced to go on that walk oh my god. alice i swear i can count to you everytime he looked down at me as i talked and everytime our hands brushed and flinched away. we caught up with school and our lives.

then he said what i was so scared of hearing. he talked about the time we were kids and he had the fattest crush on me and the way he looked at me was like i was the only girl in the entire world. after said incident as i left his house his instagram popped up on my thing and i followed him. HE FOLLOWED RIGHR BACK.

after this we saw each other in the city when our families planned to get together. we went on a ferry ride and i got seasick but so did he and everyone was doting on him but he was like “but she’s sick too!” and while we walked he deliberately stopped WAITED FOR ME then started walking with me and matching my steps. and when we were gonna go on the double decker buses he wanted to sit next to me but i was sitting with that horrible terrible friend and he was like oh no biggie and sat across from us and i could feel his eyes burning into my head all the time like the view was gorgeous and he was looking only at me.

and you’ll never guess it. right as i land back in texas all this energy just stops. from 100 - 0. the little times we talked in dms was just so dry and terrible and it doesn’t make sense to me so honestly i’ve just stopped trying. i haven’t texted him in over a month so i’d say that’s going okay.

and briefly let’s talk about cam bc ohhhhhhhh man. basically he transferred schools bc he got capped at ut and so he moved to austin which doesn’t bother me bc after new york i was like i rlly don’t wanna commit to him but we talk from time to time and recently we talked on ft and oh my god it was bad. i was complaining abt classes and stuff as one does and he literally says “yeah.. ur so beautiful i wanna kiss u rn” DAWGGGGG 😭😭😭😭😭 i hate guys like that so bad like that was just my breaking point and i haven’t talked to him since.

but in the next update i’ll talk about school and stuff bc ohbmy god so much is going on.

i know some of ur followers r probs like who is this insane chick with an insane life liek trust me i hate it too. - 🎀

seated for the lore ☕️

oh no i am not liking this girl already :// who says that about someone's grandparents at a GRAVEYARD?? 😭 that's so messed up, im so sorry she said that love :(

OHHH THATS A CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS WAITING TO HAPPEN 🤭🤭 and he admitted he liked you as a kid so??? feel like that entails that he would be interested in something happening in the future 🤭 but why is the friend cockblocking im so 🫥

BUT NOOOO WHAT :( he didn't reciprocate the energy after you moved back ?? that's .. if he's still ghosting i feel like i wouldn't want to waste any more energy on him 😪 some guys are soo..... also cam??? ew why does he sound so shallow there 😭 listen to a girl when she wants to rant !!! but as you should ���

HAHAHA dw im sure they're nodding along with the responses 🫂

[carolmunson]

peanut butter vibe. (steve harrington x thick!reader)

fulfilling my own request for mean!hot!thick!reader and hot!rich!wealthy!corporate!steve harrington who is not so secretly in love with you. takes place in 1996 - reader and steve are 29 turning 30

word count: 10.2K

warnings: 18+ minors dni, f!reader, smut smut smut smut, there is smut everywere in this. from flashback smut to actual smut, they've BEEN fucking. mild daddy kink, face sitting, face riding, unprotected p in v sex, fingering (f receiving), oral (f and m receiving), references to shower sex. body type mention, very little body insecurity mention, reference to an ex boyfriend saying reader was 'too big' for something but it's not like -- something that they take into consideration. dirty talk, pet names (honey, baby, 'good girl' etc.), mild choking, steve is so bitchy but also so soft in this i hate him.

"Hi Stevie, it's me. I'm uh, I'm back a little early, Carly's having her baby soon -- I know it was a little weird last time with Andy being with me. We um, we broke up so he's not here this time. It wasn't like a big blow out or anything but -- why am I talking about this on your answering machine? Sorry. I'll be at Porter's tonight around 6 if you wanted to meet me there? It'd be cool to see you, I guess. -sigh- It's hard to bully you when you aren't responding. Anyway, bye -- I know you'll be there at 5:57 because you can't wait to see me."

Steve let out a sigh while the answering machine closed out with a beep, the robotic voice announcing 'End of Messages'. He took his glasses off and ran a hand over his face, tossing a look at the clock on the wall across from him. It was almost quitting time, and Porter's was only a twenty minute drive away from the office. Part of him selfishly didn't want to show up, or maybe show up a little late to make you sweat since you'd forced him to meet your boyfriend last time. Well, ex boyfriend now.

You and Steve weren't friends in high school. He was busy being King Steve, basketball playing jock covered in ladies and popular people. You were busy in drama club and creative writing in the library, protecting your friends from people like Steve. Sure you knew each other, you graduated in the same year, had a couple of classes together -- but neither of you were very interested in offering each other the time of day. Two incredibly different ships passing in the night.

You weren't Steve's type in high school, either. Steve was always caught with what you'd describe as 'pretty little things'. Girls with waists he could wrap his hands around, thin and toned thighs, girls with a little jiggle where it mattered the most and none where it didn't. The girl's wearing bikini's to his house parties when the pool was open. Maybe if you had looked like that, you would've known Steve in high school -- but then again, he wasn't really the kind of guy you were trying to hail down in Hawkins.

When you weren't getting finger blasted backstage by Eddie 'The Freak' Munson when he got to the theater too early for Hellfire Club, you were making eyes at college freshman at the coffee shop you worked at. Something about slightly older men, y'know? A little mature, a little more sure of themselves. Pouring over books and scribbling in their notebooks behind their frames, staying until close to finish a paper or study for an exam. You had one or two wrapped around your finger your senior year before you left to go to school in Chicago. After Chicago it was New York -- working in marketing for a cosmetics line.

You'd come back to Hawkins every year for the holidays, but one year when your grandfather passed away you ended up at Porter's after the funeral. You were 24 and heartbroken, nursing a glass of red wine, looking out of place in your Manhattan clothes in the cozy small town bar.

You were alone at the stools until Steve Harrington came through the door, suit jacket slung over his shoulder and tie loosened over his button down. He nodded at the bar tender who instinctively poured him a whiskey before he even made it to the barstool two over from you.

"Rough day, Harrington?" he asked, sliding the drink down to him.

"You wouldn't believe, Paul," he shook his head, carding his fingers through his hair. He rested his chin on one hand, propped up on his elbow, catching your movement in the corner of his eye. He turned his head and looked over at you, a endearing smile lighting up his tired face -- that Harrington charm.

"What about you? Rough day?" he asked. At first you didn't realize he was talking to you, looking down into your wine and listening to the drone of whatever sports game was on the TV. You were brought back to earth when a soft 'hey' came from his direction.

"Me? Oh, yeah. My grandpa's funeral," you said with a scrunched face, shrugging, "Sort of a huge downer."

"Oh, wow," Steve said, turning his full body towards you on the stool, "Sorry for your loss -- that's -- yeah that beats my day. Sorry about that."

You murmur a thank you and go back to your wine, hearing him shift in his seat.

"You look really familiar," he says gently, scanning your face.

"We went to high school together," you say with a smile after a sip of your Malbec, "Class of '85."

"Hawkins High? You sure?," his voice gets a little syrupy, "I think I'd remember you."

"I was in drama -- wasn't really your type," you say with a smart head tilt. It didn't bother you that you hadn't been. The same way it didn't bother you that you might've been his type now.

You spent three hours together talking at the bar, exchanging stories about high school and your years out of it. He told you how he just started on the sales team for some big insurance company and felt so out of his depth but at least he got to wear a suit. You told him about your dingy apartment in the Lower East Side and how you missed driving all the time.

You spent another hour fucking in his BMW, riding him in the back seat tucked in a dark corner of the Porter's empty parking lot. Your skirt pushed up over your hips.

"Fuck," Steve grunted through gritted teeth, splayed out in the center of the back seat, his legs as far out as that could go, "Y'feel so fucking good. So fucking good on top of me."

You whimpered in response, the curve of his cock hitting your spongey, sensitive g-spot with every bounce. Your grip on his shoulders tightened as his hands moved smoothly over your thighs, finger tips digging into your fleshy hips when he got your reflection in the rear view mirror. Rear view, indeed. He let his eyes rest on the reverberation of your ass coming down on his hips and big legs with each shove down on his cock. The wet smack! of is crotch hitting against your soaked pussy making him want to fuck you even harder. He kneaded your body in his hands, grabbing handfuls of you as he got to your backside, humming while he felt it shake just out of his grasp.

You yelped when his warm palm cracked down on it, an angry sting running through your lower body. You couldn't help but tighten around him, slick dripping over him between your legs.

"Hm, you like that? You like when I smack that fucking ass?" he asked, holding your hips down so he could buck into you with a faster speed. Groaning while he pumped with vigor, you hear another hard crack on your ass resounding in the backseat before you feel the burn of it. Your whines made his cock twitch, slowing down to feel your hips grinding desperately against him for more friction. You slapped your palms gently against his clothed chest, pouting as you shimmied for more of his assault against your aching cunt.

“You love this cock, huh? Look at you, so fuckin' needy for it,” he gloated while your eyes narrowed in on him. Oh no, you weren't about to give Steve Harrington the satisfaction of telling him how fucking amazing his dick felt plowing into you. You weren't about to admit that all the things girls would say about him in high school were true. You reached for his jaw, holding it tight in your hand to look down at him while his hips slowed to a stop. He looked up at you, his eyes a little glassy, his grip loosening on your hips.

“Shut - your mouth,” you hissed down at him. He flushes, a smirk slips onto his lips as he leans back, putting his hands behind his head, his elbows splayed out next to him.

"Yes ma'am," he says with a soft raise to his eyebrows.

"If you'd like," he starts, taking his glasses off and tucking them into his breast pocket. He looks unbothered by your act of dominance while he runs a hand through his hair and leans forward to close the gap between you. His hands digging firmly into your ass to keep you balanced on his thighs.

His lips ghost yours while he speaks low and huskily, "I can take you back to mine and show you all the other ways I know how to use it."

He ate your pussy with the lights on and gave you his number before driving you back to your place.

'I like talking to you,' he shrugged, 'Call me whenever.'

And so began a so far, five year friendship -- you'd have long phone calls every few weeks or months when your busy schedules allowed. Staying updated on each other: how work was going, what bad dates you both had been on, what hijinks you'd been getting into with friends. Promotions, birthdays, hardships. It was nice to have a friend from home, someone who sort of knew the people you knew before you left. Nice to gossip a little, nice to laugh with each other.

Every time you came back to Hawkins, you'd meet up at Porter's for a drink. Have a real talk like you did the first night you got to know each other and then somehow, for some reason, you'd end up back at his place.

"What'd I say? Right on time, Harrington," you call out when he comes through the door. Steve groans, looking at his watch -- 5:57 on the dot. He'd had a long day, he was tired, and for a moment the sound of your voice made him grit his teeth.

You watch him check his watch and his smile tightens. He looks good -- suit much more refined from when you first really met him five years ago. Tailored, in a color that compliments his skin, his tie perfectly kept to his chest with what you assume was a pricey tie clip, shoes shined. He'd fit in great on Wall Street if he'd just get a fucking hair cut.

The way he walks towards you holds a different confidence than it had in the last year and a half when you were with Andy. Though it was clear he didn't particularly like Andy, he was perfectly pleasant -- able to slip right into a cadence of faux friendship you only wished Andy could've done. You once him over a second time as he sits in the stool next to you, his cologne was new, but expected. It felt like every man you knew was wearing Aqua di Gio.

"I know you're always so desperate to impress me but I gotta say, you look a little overdressed for Porter's. Were you nervous or something?" you ask sweetly, sipping on your red wine. You slide a whiskey double infront of him and he looks down at it, a frustrated smile breaks against his face. He bites the tip of his tongue between his teeth, shaking his head -- his hair moves with him.

"Looks like you didn't bother getting dressed up for me at all," he bites back, "C'mon, Manhattan -- a Hawkins High sweatshirt?"

Manhattan -- his favorite nick name when you got too big for your britches. A little too snobby for his liking, which was funny coming from a man with more designer clothing than you could dream to afford.

You looked down at yourself, you'd stolen the sweatshirt from your little sister -- your original one too battered and stained to see the light of day again. Sure, maybe your light wash bootcut jeans weren't screaming high fashion but your black square toed boots were cute! You swore you looked good before you left, but suddenly you weren't sure. You'd fallen off dressing 'nice' when you were home, it just wasn't worth it.

"Okay, mean," you spit, not giving off offense -- but not hiding it either.

"I like the boots, though," he shrugs, lifting the tumbler to his lips. The golden brown of the whiskey matched his eyes, they seemed to soften as the liquid met his mouth.

"Top shelf?" Steve's teeth are bright and straight in his smile while he sets the glass down.

"Do I ever disappoint?" you ask, crossing your legs. He burns pink at the question.

"Never," he's earnest in his response, finally making full eye contact with you, "You staying through the holidays?"

"Just for a few days, then heading back to wrap up Q4, I'll be back on the 23rd like always," you say. He nods and stands up, scooting his bar stool closer to yours -- just enough that your knees brushed. He leans forward, acting like it's too loud to hear you but the bar is only half full. You lean forward too, resting your chin on your hand, elbow drilling into your crossed thighs.

"And how's Carly?" he asks, you can see the delicate five o'clock shadow peeking through on his chin and neck. His lips full and wet with whiskey, he slides his tongue over them slowly to collect the flavor.

"So over being pregnant," you roll your eyes over your older sister's dramatics, "But you know -- she's excited. I'm excited, too! I get to live out my dreams of being the mysterious, hot, rich aunt."

"So, what -- Andy didn't want to be the rich uncle?" he asks, you note that he drops 'mysterious' and 'hot'. The mention of Andy stings a little and your eyes droop down to your wine.

"Sorry," he says, his comforting hand falling on your knee, "I'm sorry."

He squeezes your knee when you don't look up at his apology, a beat passes while you contemplate saying something mean -- but it's a little nice to see him feel apologetic.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks, his thumb soothingly running back and forth over your thigh as his hand moves further up. Steve frowns at your disappointed face, he hated crossing the line by accident.

You shake your head no, tilting your head back up, "Let's wait on that. I wanna hear about that big promotion you got -- we haven't really gotten to talk about it."

Steve got promoted to Director of Sales six months ago and it was kicking his ass way less than his previous management position. What was most exhausting was how incompetent everyone was.

"Well, you were kind of too busy --" he started, but quickly shook his head out of the bit, "It's fine, it's a lot of work -- god, no one ever knows what they're doing. A lot of directing going into this director of sales thing."

"Aww, my little scumbag -- running the insurance show," you coo, "You should do car sales next, so sleazy, you'll fit right in."

"You're somethin' else, tonight," he laughs, taking his hand off your leg, "And are you any better? Working for a company that tells women they're ugly so they'll buy all your shit? How's it going at L'Oreal anyway?"

You sigh and roll yours eyes, "More like L'Ore-hell. I just transferred into the marketing team from customer insights and it's somehow -- boring? I already know the answers to all of the problems they come up with. It's like they don't know who their customer base is."

Steve's eyes sparkle while you continue to rant about ROIs and think tanks, he loves when you talk about how much you hate your job. You get so passionate, you talk so fast he can barely keep up.

"I wish I could check your blood pressue right now," he jokes, it's the kind of joke adults make. Sometimes it feels like you're both playing the parts of adults at these bar hang outs -- two kids in their parent's clothes on barstools, just giggling.

"When I went to the doctor they had to check it twice because I was talking about work when they checked it the first time -- that's how stressed out it makes me," you huff.

"Sorry, I just made that all about me, can you please let me more about your director job -- are you at least happy about the promotion?" you ask.

You miss his hand on your leg but it's probably just the wine talking. Paul comes over to replenish the glass without asking, you and Steve were both two drinks and go kind of people (sometimes you'd sneak a third if he wasn't paying attention).

"I mean, sure -- I'm a step away from getting into a chair position. I'm making more money than I know what to do with. My dad is thrilled for the first time ever," he explains, always so expressive but you catch him nervously swipe through his hair, "But -- fuck...y'know?"

"I don't know," you laugh into your glass, "What do you mean, 'fuck'?"

"I'm gonna be thirty next year and like, what do I have to show for it other than --"

"Other than being a wealthy hometown high school basketball super star, swimming in pussy, who got a cushy office job two years after graduating because your daddy was tired of seeing you work at Family Video, and now is the director of sales at a big wig insurance company after only what -- seven years in the company? And wears designer suits and is still swimming in pussy?" you say in one breath. He sighs at you and leans his head into his hand, elbow resting on the bar.

"Sure -- I guess," he smiles, but it's a sad smile.

"What more do you want, Steve?" you ask with a shrug, "You've got a pretty sweet deal here."

"I don't know," he shrugs, "I mean look at you -- every time you come back you have a new story to tell me, something exciting that happened to you. I have -- pfft -- 'They hired a new secretary! Here's the gossip about other people in Hawkins I learned from my mom! I'm still sort of a loser!"

"I mean sure, yeah, you're a loser," you agree, "But not, y'know, not like -- in the bad way."

He tosses you a look but you smile back at it, making him smile back at you. This time it's genuine, you figure the whiskey is helping. Steve sits back up to full height and leans back in his bar stool, knees splaying out. If he took his suit jacket off you'd swear he'd look like one of those 1950's husbands whose a little annoyed that dinner isn't ready yet -- your thighs press tight together.

"I think you sound bored," you suggest, "Like you need something different."

He drums his fingers on the bar, staring at them while he speaks, "I have some options I've been thinking about, but I don't know. Don't wanna make a fool of myself if it doesn't work out."

"Don't wait too long," you say with a shrug, "Another ten years will fly by like that." You snap your fingers for emphasis.

"What happened with Andy?" he presses, sipping his whiskey to down the rest and putting the empty glass on the table.

You 'ugh' under your breath and take a big sip of wine before you feel him tug at the end of the stem, "Sloooow down. Don't wanna to have to carry you out of here."

"You couldn't carry me, Harrington," you say flatly.

"We both know that I can carry you, but okay," he says with a quirked brow, unimpressed with your attitude. The memory of him hoisting you up against the shower tile in his bathroom with your fleshy thighs wrapped tight around him flashes through your mind. Hot breath and hot water running all over you while he grunted into your ear with each desperate thrust. Steve notices your cheeks heat up -- he knows what you're thinking about, because he is too. A satisfied smile settles onto his lips.

"Alright, settle down," you say, pushing your glass a little away from you towards Steve while his next whiskey arrives. You aren't sure if you're talking to him or to yourself.

"I just..." you breathe out of your nose, "It wasn't working out. I was tired of taking care of him."

"Oh, you broke up with him?" Steve confirms.

"Yeah," you sit back a bit, furrowing your brow, "Did you think he broke up with me?"

"I don't know, you seemed really sad about it!" Steve says, his hands outstretched, "I thought he left you."

"He didn't," you say, "I left, but it's still a bummer. Thought maybe he could've been it, y'know? But, thinking back it would've been -- I don't know -- it wasn't going to happen."

"He didn't want to get married?" he asked, a little surprised.

"I don't think that was in his five year plan, he barely took me out to dinner," you complained, "I was paying for everything 'cause I had a better job."

Steve crossed his arms while you talked, frowning while you continued to ramble about Andy and the break up.

"I just felt like I was putting a lot of effort into him, and I wasn't getting anything in return," you shrug, "And like, that's okay. I'm so used to doing that but...I don't know, I think I just would like for someone to take care of me for a change."

You pause, considering what you said and shake your head, "That sounds so selfish, oh my god."

"I don't think it sounds selfish at all," Steve shakes his head, "I think you're sort of asking for the bare minimum -- I mean fuck, he didn't take you out to dinner? I've taken you out to dinner and you've never even been my..."

You're both quiet for a beat while he trails off, neither of you looking at each other. You reach for your wine and he moves the glass away just as your fingers graze the stem. You lift your butt of the stool and pluck it out of his hand, taking another - smaller - sip. He looks at you like a disappointed father.

"Maybe I wanted to try it? Ugh, you're right Manhattan, you're so selfish," Steve teased.

"You don't like Malbec, Stevie," you swirl the booze in your glass, "That's why I order it."

Steve knows that's why you order Malbec, that's why he kept ordering whiskey -- you don't like it, but he'll know you're getting a little drunk if you ask for a sip of his drink. That's when he knows it's time to take you home, he'd sleep with you another night. He doesn't want you to get too drunk tonight, something about your flushed cheeks. The way you look in those boot cut jeans -- especially when you excused yourself to the bathroom and he could watch you walk away. Whew.

Steve waits for the door to close behind you to hail down Paul to get the check.

"She's gonna get pissy that you're covering it," Paul said while passing him the bill for your drinks, "She told me not to let you pay when she got here."

"Paul -- What's she gonna do? Kill me?" he gestures his hand out while using the other to reach for his wallet. He pulls out a few bills, including a generous tip, and passes them to Paul indiscreetly.

"Steve -- come on!" He winces at your voice, "I told you last time I had it next!"

"My hand slipped -- suddenly the money just appeared in Paul's register, there was nothing I could do," Steve held his hands up.

"Paul!" you call down the bar, but the yell turns into a laugh, "You promised you wouldn't let him pay!"

"He threatened me within an inch of my life. Had to let the man do what he wants," Paul said, putting the cash in the register. You settle back into your stool and cross your legs again, smoothing your damp hands on your jeans.

"I'm gonna kill you, Harrington," you mutter to your knees.

"I feel like 'thank you' would've been a much nicer thing to say," he's always so cool when he talks. You envy how easy it is for him to be charming, to turn it on quickly. Sometimes he makes you feel nervous and seventeen again, even though you've done this so many times before. He looks at you over the whiskey glass while he sips it, eyes glittering behind his glasses. Neither of you have to say anything to know what happens after his finishes his drink.

When you left, he reached for your hand when the door to Porter's closed behind you. You didn't need the support, the parking lot wasn't icy or snow covered, you weren't drunk -- but you let his fingers lace with yours. He guides you deliberately to his car -- of course it's new -- a dark green Porsche 911. What a tool.

"You like my new toy?" he asked. It was easily the most expensive car you'd seen in Indiana.

"Steven," you're a little exasperated -- sometimes he was such a poor little rich boy, "Why?"

He shrugs, "Felt like it."

You let go of his hand to walk to the passengers side door, waiting for him to unlock it while you shiver. He notices you didn't have a coat on, shaming himself silently for not offering his trench for the short walk.

You both get in when he unlocks to doors and you eye the interior, the plush leather of the seats. You squint a little when you cast your eyes over to him, "I feel like you're compensating for something."

"Oh yeah?" he asks casually, starting the car and cranking the heat, "What am I compensating for? Wanna remind me?"

You cross your arms and don't answer because he doesn't have anything to compensate for. Steve Harrington was born blessed, if you were more religious you'd swear he was God's favorite.

"That's what I thought," he says with a grin while pulling out of the parking lot. His hand meets your head rest while he stretches his neck back to check for cars. The same hand falls to your thigh when you make it on the road, sliding his palm over the swell of it -- his fingers resting inside. He let his eyes glance at how your hips filled up the small passengers seat at a red light, your jeans tight over your thighs.

Steve gave you a soft squeeze when the light turned green, you put your hand over his hand at the gesture -- relacing your fingers. You don't notice the gentle smile blooming onto his face, too busy looking at Christmas lights on the houses outside.

--

You don't waste time when you both get into his house, slipping off your shoes at the entry way -- bolstering passed the darkened livingroom to the stairs in his mini-mansion. He follows quickly behind you, getting ahead of you to get into his room to turn on the bedside lamps.

"Are those new?" you whisper -- it's not like anyone is home, it's Steve's house, but the darkness makes you feel like you have to be quiet. He comes back over to you, quick on his socked feet and pulls you in for a feverish kiss.

"Yeah," he says between kisses, all harsh breaths and wet clicks, "I had a new -- mmm -- uh fuck -- new decorator come in."

His hands are wound in your hair while he keeps control of your head, his kisses go from fast and hungry to slow and controlled.

"I'll show you later," he mumbles against your lips. You nod in agreement, you did genuinely want to see. What fancy hotel was it based off of this time?

"This is okay, right?" he asks, pulling away, "I'm sorry I didn't ask I just -- old habits, I guess."

"It's okay, Stevie," you assure, his hands slipping out of your hair and onto your full cheeks. He squishes them together a little and smiles into a little chuckle. Sometimes you're so cute to him he can't stand it, he wants to eat you whole -- wants to keep you in his bed forever.

"Good," he mumbles again before settling back in for a deep kiss that leaves you moaning softly into his mouth, "Missed feeling you like this."

"You're so needy," you tease, his hands dropping from your face to your hips, feeling his own press against yours.

"Oh, you feel that?" he smirks, dick hard in his slacks -- straining despterately to get your attention.

"Needier than I thought," you scoff, "You gonna make it, Steve? You don't even have your jacket off yet."

"Watch your mouth," it's not mean when he says it, he likes when you tease him because you have nothing to back it up. You've never left unsatisfied -- even when you were on top calling him your 'sweet boy', you'd get in the shower after with your legs shaking. Shivering against him when he'd get on his knees and lick at your sensitive clit just to watch you leave hand print on the glass.

"You just sound so pretty, miss. I can't help myself," he'd say from below you, water droplets resting on his eyelashes while you gushed over his mouth.

Steve breaks away to take off his jacket and looks at it for a split second -- hesitating.

"You wanna hang it up, huh?" you know how he gets.

"Will you be mad? I just don't want it to crease," he pleads.

"You're gonna get the suit dry cleaned anyway," you say back, laughing.

"I know, I know, but I have to -- I just have to hang it up, I'm so sorry," he presses a chaste peck to your lips before disappearing into his walk in closet. You take your time getting undressed because you know he'll be at least seven to nine minutes while he puts everything back in the 'to be dry cleaned' part of the closet.

You keep your bra and panties on, white satin, a little lace. He's always a sucker for something angelic that's a little grown up -- but you guess you are grown ups now. It's weird to consider.

He emerges from the closet in his boxer breifs with a frown, "Why'd you take your clothes off without me?"

"You took your clothes off without me," you counter point, "Did you want me to just sit here and wait for you?"

"Kinda," he says with a half shrug, "Would've been nice."

You get a little giddy while he approaches you, his smile building when yours does. His hands skate over the flesh on top of your flared ribs, over to your back. His fingers gliding over the back strap of your bra before snapping it off of you, dropping it to the floor. He traces the indents on your skin from the clothing, red and raw. Big hands grope at your breasts before following the slope of your waist back down to your ass, filling his hands greedily.

"Missed her the most," another chaste kiss to your lips, "But I think you knew that." Steve had always thought he was a tits guy until he met you, maybe you were the exception. Maybe he liked all your parts.

"I knew that," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Can you stop stalling, Harrington? This wine's gonna wear off soon."

With your hold on his neck, laying you back on the mattress was an easy feat. He spread you out wide, pushing your hands above your head while he settled his hips against yours. He couldn't help himself from starting to rut against you -- you were so warm, your pussy practically begging him to fuck you.

"Ooh," you moaned out against your better wishes, his covered cock giving you just enough friction in your panties to set you ablaze. You could feel yourself dripping into them, begging, waiting for him.

"You really want me tonight, huh?" he asked hungrily, knowing the answer.

"Y-yes, Stevie," you whined, letting go of his hands to let your nails graze down his back, feeling the length of him trapped in his boxers press against you.

"Oh-ho-ho, whose needy now, hm?" he teases in your ear, grinding mercilessly against you, his chest pressed up against yours while he keeps you pinned the the mattress.

"So quick with that tongue earlier, what happened?" he smirks, getting right in your face, brushing his nose against yours. You roll your hips against his, your thighs sliding against his hips as another mewl escapes you at the friction.

"Oh, I see. You wanna be good for daddy now, don't you?"

"Steven," your eyes pop open, your mouth gapes with a smile, "You can't just say stuff like that."

He laughs into a kiss on your neck, "C'mon, I think you liked it."

"I don't really think you're the 'daddy', type," you say, your voice taunting.

"No?" he asks his voice is calm, but his eyes are challenging you.

"No, you're too nice," you smirk while he comes up to kiss your mouth, "You've never won a fight in your life. And you're what, almost 30? Who're you bossin' around?"

He watches you raise a brow when you say it, your lower lip tucking slowly between your teeth in a grin -- god he loves when you do that.

"Lot of secretaries to go through in the office, mmm," he hums when your lips graze his neck, your tongue striping up to his jaw, "Learned a couple things."

"You think I can't boss you around?" he asks, pressing up off of you and leaning onto one of his forearms.

"I know you can't boss me around," you say, your brows quirking while you push at his chest to get on top of him like you always do. Already soaking at the thought of him whining for you to fuck him, to cum all over him, grabbing at your thighs, hips, and ass desperately. His heaving breaths after finishing, resting his head on your stomach while you stroked his hair, feeling his lips press against your soft, pudgy, belly to let you know he's ready for the next round.

He caught your wrist as you pushed and pressed it back down into the mattress.

"Oh c'mon Stevie, I love hearing you beg for me," you tease before he presses his mouth against yours, noses squishing together. Over the years, Steve craved closeness from you -- pulling you flush against his chest when you were on top, wrapping his arms around your back. Clutching you, fingertips sinking into your cloud-soft flesh while you moaned into his ear.

"Think you can beg for me for a change," he mutters, pulling away as you reach to kiss him again. A little whine pulls from your throat and he purrs at the sound. Right where he wants you.

He gets on his knees between your legs and looks down at you, eyes roaming the expanse of your body -- your broad shoulders, soft skin, delicate curves and indents. His personal Aphrodite -- flesh turned fine art. All the Rennaissance paintings in the world couldn't do you justice. He stuttered the first time he saw you naked, overwhelmed by you and how not shy you were for him to see you. Steve let's a finger trail along the lining of your silk panties at your thigh, you shiver at his soft touch.

"Take these off," he says, but it comes out as a demand.

"So mean," you tease, tugging at the elastic and lifting your hips up to push them over your butt and thighs. He shrugs off your jest, grabbing your underwear when they get too far down for you to reach and throwing them on the floor. He's rough when he flips you over to your stomach, the flesh of your ass bouncing with the movement and he salivates immediately.

"I'll show you mean," he says, it's more playful than menacing. He brings a hand down hard on your soft body, ass reverberating with the action and you gasp -- tensing all around.

"Ow -- Steve!" you cry out, trying to catch your breath.

“Oh, shit,” he smooths over the pink handprint blooming on your skin, “I’m sorry.”

"It's okay, it's fine, just -- I don't know, warn a girl," you laugh. His hand drags over the curve of your ass to your thigh.

"Did you like that?" he asked, his voice dropped to his lower register and you inadvertently press your thighs together. Your face drops into your arms on the mattress, blushing.

"Is that a yes?" he asks, fingers snaking to your inner thigh and your hips roll slowly at the feeling. He hums when he sees you nod into your forearms.

"On your knees, baby," he suggests, tapping your thigh. You adjust onto your knees, forearms still on the mattress in a perfect deep arch. He sits back at first, taking a moment to marvel at your ass in the air -- committing it to memory. He keeps his hand on your inner thigh, massaging gently while you settle into position.

"Open up a little more for me," he's gentle, pushing at your flesh so you open up wider. You adjust and he grins, sliding his boxers off -- you whimper when he does.

"You okay?" his voice laces with acute concern, it wasn't a sexy whine or cry like you usually do. He stands up so he can soothe you from the side of the bed, his hand smoothing over your back.

"I thought you were gonna -- I didn't know we were immediately gonna fuck," you say, leaning your face to the side to look at him.

"Oh no - I wasn't just gonna - when have I ever just gone in and fucked you?" he laughs, "I just wanna jerk off while you sit on my face, is that okay?"

"So much for me begging for you," you smirk, "Sitting on your face, just like old times."

He huffs a breath through his nose looking down at you, his face unimpressed. He leans forward, face inches away from yours, "Who was just whining over the idea that I might not eat her pussy tonight?"

You burn at his words and he notices, "Was it you?"

You nod with an embarrassed smile, "If you're a good girl, I'll let you be the boss next time. I'll teach you a few things, yeah?"

"Steeeeve," you whine while your skin is in flames, "You can't say that."

He gets on the bed behind you, one hand on the bend of your hip, the other with his fingers sliding against your open folds -- finding slicknes without surprise.

"Can't say what?" he asks with a smile, "Can't call you my good girl?"

Your hips push back on his fingers when he says it and you scold yourself at your body's betrayal. You hear him tutt behind you and you clench around nothing at the sound, "Sure feels like I can."

He slides under you like a well versed mechanic, arms and hands immediately wrapping around your thighs, stifiling their nervous jiggle. He guides you down to his mouth, your posture changing while you sit further up and back so you can see his eyes and he can see all of you. Your hips wiggle as you feel his breath on your opening.

"Are you excited?" he asks, you nod and he can't hold out anymore at the sight of your smile. You feel his tongue drag, poking between your folds once you relaxed -- his fingers reaching to keep you spread open to start.

Your smile transforms to a pornographic gasp, head immediately thrown back as his tongue stripes you again. Your hips rock against his mouth, Steve smirks to himself into the next lick, flicking over your clit and a peal of mewls escape your lips.

He feels at home here, your full, thick thighs keeping his ears warm in the December weather. This big cold house suddenly feeling full with your voice moaning his name. He didn't need the whiskey if you were offering to quench his thirst like this.

You feel his tongue lap at your opening, the thick, wet, muscle pushing in past your walls trying to desperate to out maneuver him. His face was coated in your juices, dripping freely own onto his chin and cheeks while he fucked you with his tongue. He watched as your hand reached down to tease your clit, he caught it in his, pushing it up to your breasts.

"Play with your tits f'me baby, let me watch," he says, scooting up a bit.

"But Steve I --" you huff, desperate for some extra stimulation.

"I'm getting there, if you'd just be patient for like, twenty seconds," his voice sounds like he's back at the bar, admonishing you like you're rushing him to get out of the bathroom.

"You're ruining the mood," you cross your arms over your chest, pouting.

"Aww, I'm ruining the mood?" he mocks, a fake frown matching yours. He slides a finger slowly past your tight walls and you falter a little but hold to your convictions. He holds eye contact with you through his glasses, pushing a second finger in to meet the first.

Your mouth gapes, eyes pricking with tears as your walls close down hard on him, "Am I still ruining the mood, baby?"

A silent cry rattles your chest, falling quietly out of your open mouth. Your eyes close tight while he snickers, pumping his fingers in a steady rhythm, "It's all better now, isn't it?"

His voice makes you dizzy, he used to talk to you like this when you first started fucking. Cocky and confident -- certain he was making you feel good, and fuck he was. What did he ask you to do before? Your brain was racking for the command, but too overwhelmed with pleasure when he hooked his fingers to find your g-spot.

"Stevie -- oh fuck, fuck, please more," you whine out, you sound pathetic but you can't even find your self to care. It feels like a roller coaster reaching it's peak with every curve of his fingers teasing your spongey center. 'Play with your tits f'me baby, let me watch.' There it is, that you could do. You palm your breasts, pulling and pinching at your hard nipples looking down at him over your belly pooch. He winks when his tongue finally makes contact with your clit and you shudder instantly. You gush over his fingers, taken by surprised by your own orgasm -- already feeling the second one building.

"That's my good girl," he purrs beneath you, "Stay just like that, okay? I'm not done."

You gulp, feeling his soft kitten licks back on your clit start to ramp up to fast flutters -- Steve didn't want to start you back up slowly. Your breath had barely steadied before it picked back up again, flexing your core to keep yourself hovering above him. Your hand reached down to his hair, tugging while your thighs tensed.

"Ride my face, baby, come on," he encourged, "You've never been nervous to do it before."

"I --," you hesitated, "I didn't with Andy -- it's been a while."

"What?" he asked, surprised, pushing up so his full head peeked out from between your legs, "Are you fucking with me?"

"He...ugh, Steve," you leaned your head back and then turned it back down, mumbling, "He said I was too heavy."

Steve's eyes furrow, mouth open, unsure at first how to respond -- aghast, "This guy sounds like a fucking loser. You're not too heavy -- god -- who says 'no' to that? What's wrong this this guy?"

Steve shakes his head and pushes back down, "Sit on my face, baby. Fuckin' suffocate me."

You don't have a choice, he pulls you down onto him, your knees sliding further apart and you can't help but start grinding your hips against his tongue. The whole act sounds as lewd as it looks, wet and sticky as he captures your slit in his mouth to suck on it. Spreading your ass in his hands to spread you further apart, moaning low into your pussy so you can feel the vibration through your core.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ooh daddy just like that," the words just pour out of you while you start reaching your second peak, hips writhing onto him with your back arched. Steve grips your ass cheek hard before smacking down on it with a loud 'thwap!', satisfaction burning in his stomach -- daddy, daddy, daddy. The same hand reaches for his neglected cock, covered in pre, leaving a patch of cold liquid on his hard, muscled stomach.

Steve feels your hips hump his mouth in quick succession, his nose bumping your clit rapidly. Your moans get shorter and higher with each flick of his tongue against you until they're just huffed breaths.

"Mmm, come on," he nods up at you, "You can do it, angel."

You nod back, face contorted while tears stain your cheeks, the next roll of your hips his mouth makes contact with your clit again. You see stars, you cum so hard you swear you're pissing. You can hear Steve's grunts under you, collecting your slick to add friction to the fist he's fucking behind you.

"Get on your back," he demands, "Need t'fuck you, holy shit."

You get on your back, looking up at him now on his knees, both of your eyes lust blown in the low light. You weren't a stranger to his cock, but every time you saw it you couldn't help but feel spit build in your mouth. It was angry tonight, tip red and leaking, veins pulsing while he stroked himself looking down at you.

"I don't know, Stevie -- it might be -- it's too much," you say, thighs pressing together to protect your sensitive cunt.

"Two is nothing, honey," he shakes his head opening your legs up, crawling over you to line his tip up with your entrance, "You've given me four in less time."

You whine like a child, but you don't stop him when he slides the tip against your entrance, building up the slickness to slide over his cock. When his tip pops in you hiss, back arching to feel another inch push into you.

"Oh, that shut you up, huh?" that voice was back again, Steve was starting to feel so confident, you might as well start calling him Manhattan. He pushes deep into you, all the way to the hilt -- your legs springing up against your chest automatically -- heels hitting his back.

"You feel so good, Stevie," you moan into his mouth while he leans in to kiss you.

"Pussy's fucking made for me," he rasps while his thrusts pick up, forceful and deliberate. Steve loves fucking you because he knows how well you can take it. You were built sturdy, plush, soft -- he loved how it felt to slam into you. He'd heard it on the radio, some cheesy line 'more cushion for the pushin', but fuck if it wasn't true.

Steve knew he wouldn't last long inside you, your pussy tight and wet -- hugging him in place, resisting his exit. He filled you completely, your eyes rolling back the second you felt the hair at the base of his cock tickle your skin over and over again.

"Steve, oh god Steve," you moan through gritted teeth, tears back to rolling down your cheeks as your nails dig into his back, "Just like that daddy, fuck me like that."

His mouth falls open at your words, the girls on his desk never talk like that. He can't fuck them how he wants to, never throws them around. They don't look at him the way you look at him, soft and pretty. They don't wanna wash his hair for him in the shower after, and kiss the freckles on his back. He doesn't wanna make them dinner after, or give them a ride home. He doesn't blush the way he does when it's you that calls him daddy. When you call out his name. When you look up at him with those eyes. When you hold his hand in the car. When you tease him for coming to Porter's early. When you call every time you come home just to see him when you could see anyone else.

Steve's hand finds your jaw but you guide it to your throat while you bounce against his thrusts, he chuckles wickedly, "When'd you turn into such a whore?"

His fingers press down expertly on your neck while you attempt to moan out an answer that he doesn't wanna hear. He just wants to keep watching your fucked out face and body while he drills into you deeper. His voice lilts into a mocking coo, your cunt drools.

"Just for me, isn't it?" he asks down at you through his glasses, and you nod quickly in his hold, "They're not fuckin' you like this in the city, huh?"

"Had to come all the way back to Indiana to get this dick, didn't you? All the way back home so daddy could fuck you just how you like it," he huffs, feeling himself get close.

"Yes, yes -- had t-to come back for you - oh fuck, fuck," you whine out, raspy and nasal from lack of blood flow.

"Who fucks you like I do, hm? Who else is makin' you come like I can?" he eases up on your throat, moving back to your jaw -- leaning in to give you a sloppy tongue kiss into your gasping mouth. You tighten again over him, gushing whatever creamy spend you had left in you, gripping his shoulder tightly while your eyes pinched closed.

When you're nose to nose again you look up at him, "Nobody, Stevie. Just you, it's just you."

He growls at the confirmation, his hips stuttering -- 'Nobody fucks her like I do,' ringing in his head while he feels his vision start to go white.

"Baby, baby," he starts, his voice softening, "God, fuck -- can I come in your mouth?"

You nod and he groans, panting while your wet walls keep his cock warm and tight inside you. Steve slows his thrusts which just makes the feeling more intoxicating, your sticky thighs meshing with his soaked hilt. You whimper and cry with every push into your overstimulated cunt, your legs almost giving out from being pressed against your chest.

"Jesus Christ. Gonna come in your mouth," he whispers into your neck, "Feels -- oh shit -- fuck, it feels so good in your pussy, though."

Steve knows he can't hold back, quickly pulling out of you while you shoot up onto your elbows. He pulls your head forward with one fell swoop of his big hand, your mouth and thrat sucking in his cock in a vice grip. You can feel the warm liquid start shooting into your mouth immediately, but it doesn't stop you from obediently sucking on it. He's peak caveman brain while he watches you, your eyes shining up at him while he holds his weight up on your head -- grunts and snarls coming out of his mouth while he finishes thrusting into your face.

You take your mouth off as he softens and swallow, gingerly sitting up slowly. Your thighs ache, you're exhausted. He sits down onto his calves, both of you panting on the center of the bed.

"Let me -- let me get you some water," he huffs out, sliding off the mattress into the attatched master bathroom. He's only gone for ten seconds, passing a clear glass into your shaking hand. You sip slowly to start before gulping it down.

"You okay?" he asks, leaning over to kiss your forehead, "You're quiet."

You nod, taking a deep breath and letting it out, "That was...insane."

He laughs, it makes you laugh, and he lays down onto the mattress to stare up at you. You look down at him, offering Steve a weak smile before looking back at your empty water cup. You slide off the bed like he did before, putting the glass back on the bathroom counter, peeing, washing your hands, and walking back out.

You let out a tired sigh, reaching for your clothes strewn about by his dresser -- sliding on your panties.

"What're you doin', Manhattan?" he asks, sitting up, "Got somewhere to be?"

"I'm getting dressed, Steve," you explain, putting your bra back on. Steve's chest hollowed, normally you'd have some pillow talk after -- talk it out. He still had to show you the new house decor.

"Hey, stop," his voice is soft as he waves his hand at you, "You don't have to do that."

"I gotta get home, Steve," you assure, "It's getting late."

"You..." he trails off before taking a deep breath, replenishing his confidence, "You could stay. I can drive you back in the morning."

"Steve..." you start, shimmying a little to get your jeans over your hips and thighs, "I never stay. That's not us, that's not what we do."

"It could be..." he suggests, his voice cracking a little, "Please?"

You stand there, in your bra and unbuttoned jeans, your tummy poking out where the zipper is undone. Your bra suddenly feels tight and uncomfortable, your underwear constricting you under the jeans that feel a size too small.

He looks you over, watching you contemplate it and gets up out of bed to meet you by his dresser. His hands reach to each side of your face, warm and big. His fingertips graze the hair at the edge of your scalp, pinkies and ring fingers on the back of your neck. He tilts your head up slightly to look at him and your heart hammers, more than it did the first time he started kissing you in his car. Steve's heart matches your cadence, remembering how nervous he was the first time he talked to you -- desperately wanting you to be impressed by him.

"I --" you start blushing, he's never looked at you quite like this, "I don't have anything to wear to bed."

"I don't want you to wear anything to bed," he says, leaning forward to capture your lips in his while you both step awkwardly as a unit back over to the bed, "It'd just get in the way in the morning."

"Please stay," he pleads again, pressing a gentle peck on your lips, "Please -peck-, please -peck-, please -peck-. "

"Okay, okay," you laugh, "Are you sure?"

"I'm begging you," he smiles, leaning his forehead against yours. The tops of his frames hitting your brow bone. He lets go of your face to make work of the top of your jeans, shoving them back down until they pool at your ankles. He unhooks your bra, a little too expertly, and snaps the band of your satin panties before rolling those down too. He moves down with them so he can skate his hands over your thighs and leave a warm kiss on the flesh over your hip bone -- apologizing to the bruise he left there earlier.

"Can't believe you kept your glasses on," you tease, "Dweeb."

He comes back up, sliding his glasses off smoothly, like he did in the back seat of his BMW five years ago, "I like being able to really see you."

"Am I blurry without them?" you asked, trying to take them out of his hand. He snatches them out of your grasp, hiding them behind his back.

"Not really," he says, walking over to the bedside table and placing them next to the lamp, "You told me they made me look handsome back in - think it was -- '94 maybe? -- So I just wanted to keep them on for insurance."

You look down at the floor, "I always think you look handsome, Harrington."

You feel his hand at the back base of your neck and turn to see him behind you, "Come back to bed." 

He gets under the sheets and both duvets and turns down the covers next to him, slapping the pillow you're going to sleep on to beckon you forward. You want to roll your eyes but you can't force down the giddiness building in your chest -- sleep over!

You maneuver over to your side of the bed, slipping under the covers while he turns them back over you to tuck you in. Fuck are the sheets nice, they had to be some luxury brand you can only order through a catalog.

Steve clicks off his bedside lamp, leaning over you to click off yours and you catch the remnants of his cologne on his skin. It's not long before you feel his hand skate over you under the covers, sliding over your belly, up over every curve and bump on your body before resting a warm hand on the side of your breast. He hums sleepily and pulls you close to him, pressing his chest against your shoulder. His hot breath fans against your neck where he's settled his head.

"Isn't this nice?" he asks. You nod, turning onto your side to face him while his hand splays across your back to pull you closer. You slide a hand under the pillow, and savor the coolness on your hot skin. Steve looks at you with soft eyes, studying you.

"Can I tell you something?" he asks, "Or, well, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course," you say, looking at him, trying to read his expression.

"Remember -- ah fuck, okay I'm doing this," he says, trying to psyche himself up, "Remember when I said I had some options? To make changes?"

"Yeah, I remember. You can't wait when those opportunities come, Harrington," you lecture, "I've fucked myself so many times with that."

"There's a position in the New York office," he blurts out, "In the head quarters that they're eyeing me for."

Your heart races, "Okay."

"And I'd be...I don't know, sort of demoted but I'd get a huge -- like, huge fucking pay raise," he explains, "And I -- I wanna take it."

A beat passes while he tries to figure out what to say.

"And maybe, I don't know -- maybe we could try this out? Like for real? Instead of just fucking around every Christmas."

You consider it, heat blooming in your cheeks -- the good kind. Your heart starts to swell -- not Steve Harrington asking you out when you're twenty-nine. Sixteen year old you would be screaming.

"What do you think?" he asks, he swipes his hand through his hair and even in the dark you know his cheeks are pink.

"I don't think it's a bad idea," you say, "I think it's the excitement you're looking for -- New York I mean, not me."

"I think you're really exciting," he leans in to kiss you with a grin.

"And I think," he presses his lips against yours again, "I'd do a pretty good job at taking care of you, if you let me."

You laugh through your nose, blushing hard while he kisses your cheek, "That sounds nice, doesn't it?"

"It does sound nice, Steve," you agree, but you don't want him to feel too good about it. You had a reputation to uphold, still. He leans back to look at you, thumb caressing your cheek as your lids fall half down your eyes, "I think I'd really like that."

"You wanna shower? You too tired?" his voice his so gentle you start to melt, but exhaustion weighs heavy on you.

"Too tired," you say, nuzzling forward into his neck -- your head now partially on his pillow.

"We can talk about it more in the morning, yeah?" he asks, a hand reaching up to smooth over your hair.

"Yeah," you said, your breath steadying, "I'll see you in the morning."

He knows you don't like eggs for breakfast but it's all he has in the fridge. It's fine. He'll just order in.