#but the jacket is weird so it just looks weird sorry bout that

[afterartist]

My character design skills have not improved in the slightest-

But I spent 6 hours on this rough sketch of the JailBird cast cause I decided that I am gonna rewrite the story (they actually (kinda) look closer to the actual 19-20 collage kid ages they are and not edgy 14 yr old high schoolers now so that’s kinda a win (the uniform doesn’t help but that’s there for lore reasons))

Nyway they have superpowers but have, in turn, been cursed with my same face syndrome big rip

Also here are their og designs from 2017 I hate them never mention these to me again

[todayisafridaynight]

One of my fave jackets is this green jacket with a fur hood im wearin rn because 1.) its green 2.) my dad gave it to me 3.) it reminds me of saejima. Who also reminds me of my dad

[shotmrmiller]

I'm your only situationship.

A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.

18+ MDNI

TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 

Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”

“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”

“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”

“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 

He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.

“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”

His phone vibrated a minute later.

“I can’t today, Si.”

“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”

As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.

“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”

Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.

“Hiya, Si!” 

“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”

“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 

“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”

“No.” And hangs up. 

The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—

“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”

One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’

You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 

The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 

You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”

Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—

“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”

“Where is he?”, he snarls.

“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”

You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,

“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”

“No, pet.”

“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”

“Pet.” 

You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.

He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 

“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 

He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”

With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 

Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 

You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.

Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—

Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 

You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 

“You have a condom?” 

You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”

“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”

You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 

You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 

He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 

He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 

Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.

That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 

“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.

“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”

He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 

He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.

“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 

You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[rubinaitoart]

#FiddleStantober2024 -- Day 1: First Meeting (yes I know I'm 7 days late)

Writing blurb to go along with it under the cut!

It’s cold and wet. Fiddleford stands alone on a street corner, holding a ratty old satchel over his head to stave off the thick snowflakes. He didn’t have a good coat—couldn’t find it, can’t remember where he left it—so he’s left to walk around in a thin sweater over an equally thin shirt, which the snowflakes soak into and dampen like rain. 

He waits for the walk signal to come on. Did he push the button? Ought’a push it again, just to be sure. His thumb clicks against the icy metal. How long was this light going to take?

“You can just walk across, y’know.”

Fiddleford nearly jumps out of his skin. He looks over his shoulder to see an umbrella, unconsciously counting the fingers—one, two, three, four, five—and then he slowly looks up at the man’s face. Five fingers; yet he’s met with Stanford’s face, framed in a scraggly mullet and equally scraggly scruff along his jaw. The man slowly lifts his eyebrows.

“Ya look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Not-Stanford says. He doesn’t talk like Stanford. His shoulders are stiff and straight, whereas Stanford often slouches; there’s dark circles under his eyes, but he doesn’t look manic. Just tired. Fiddleford blinks once, twice. A third time just to be sure—it’s still Stanford’s face, but not his eyes staring back at him.

“You jus’ look like someone I know.” Fiddleford croaks out. “Knew.” He hastily corrects himself. “Someone I knew.” 

Not-Stanford nods slowly. “You knew him enough, though. Most’a the hicks in this town think I’m my weird recluse of a brother.” He grins thinly, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and waggles the fingers on one hand. “But you know. I saw you countin’ my fingers.”

“Stanford had a brother?” Not-Stanford’s smile drops, and Fiddleford kicks himself for blurting it out like that. “Sorry—sorry, he jus’ didn’t talk ‘bout his personal life real much.” 

“Mm.” The other man grunts. Then, he holds his hand out—for a handshake, Fiddleford realizes, and he quickly grabs the much larger hand with a trembling grip. “M’name’s Stanley. Jeeze, you’re really shaky.” 

Fiddleford doesn’t really know what to say. He squirms a little in discomfort, quickly tucking his arms close to his chest and hugging his old satchel. “Cold.” He finally mutters. There’s a long, awkward silence that stretches out between them. Fiddleford steals a glance at the walk signal—still hasn’t changed, did he push the button? 

“Alright.” Stanley grumbles all of a sudden, stealing Fiddleford’s attention away from the crosswalk and the button he can’t remember pressing. All of a sudden he finds a warm jacket draped over his shoulders—ugh, what was that smell?—and a warm cap tugged over his ears with semi-gloved hands. “Where do you live?”

How does one tell a near-stranger, ‘I don’t live anywhere, and the motel I was staying at just kicked me out?’

“I, uh… well, y’see…” 

Stanley heaves a long, suffering sigh. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyebrows scrunched together in a scowl. There’s several seconds of silence before he speaks through slightly gritted teeth. “I guess you’re coming with me, then.” 

“I don’t want to be a bother—“ Fiddleford quickly shuts up as Stanley shoots him a withering look, one that clearly says there’s no room for argument. He’s baffled. The man clearly doesn’t want to be doing any of this, and yet he’s being so forceful in his… kindness? Pity? Fiddleford doesn’t know what to make of it. But maybe he shouldn’t turn down a chance at staying somewhere warm for a bit. “… thank you.” He mumbles, to which Stanley only offers a low grunt in response.

[harrietswriting]

Can you do a Johnny Cade x fem reader where it’s basically the drive in scene and he defends her from dally? Thank you!!!

an: Thank you for the request!! I used Marely for the friend's name. This is 1.3k words... I got carried away. Also, I literally took out my copy of the outsiders to try to make the scene semi-accurate

Tw: Dallas😥, swearing, cigarette mentioned, not fully proof-read(sorry) warning for Dallas again

Johhny Cade x fem!reader

He defends you from Dally at the Drive-in

"Come on! We gotta find seats before all the good ones are taken!" Marely tells you eagerly as she pulls you away from her car.

"Why can't we just stay in your car? It's freezing out here." You hug your arms around yourself as the two of you walk towards the seats.

She shrugs. "Can't meet cute guys in my car."

You sigh. "I mean, you're not wrong." Marely smiles. The two of you don't have to walk around much longer before you find some seats with a good view. You seat down next to her.

The movie was a few minutes in and you were trying to pay attention and catch up to what's happening. You almost don't notice when three boys sit behind the two of you, but you definitely noticed when one of them started talking real dirty, real loud. You had a feeling whoever it was was trying to get some reaction out of you and Marely, so you tried to ignore it. You did however look at Marely from the side of your eye, trying to communicate "ew, what the hell?" She looked back and you could tell she was not loving it either. Then someone's feet were put on your chair, and you had it.

You turn around and are not surprised when you see the infamous prick, Dallas Winston. "Excuse me, get your feet off my chair." You made sure to express disgust.

"Who's gonna make me?" He smirks, not moving his feet. This asshole-

Marely turns around now. "Leave us alone, will ya?" She's not having it either. You glance over at the other boys he's with, hoping they don't start too, but they don't look the type. One likes real young, and the other, gosh he's cute, looks kinda timid. You look back at the hood with his feet still on your chair.

"Yeah, be nice and leave us alone." You add.

He grinned. "I'm never nice, baby. Want a coke?"

The audacity! "Oh, go to hell, hood!" You say angrily.

Surprisingly, he actually got up and walked away. You look back at the other boys. "Don't you guys start too," you warn them.

"Oh- we weren't gonna!" The younger looking one says. The other boy nods and adds, "sorry bout him."

"Oh, it's fine." Right before you can turn back around and enjoy the movie, Marely decides to be social.

"Say, what are your names?" She asks them, and suddenly it feels rude to look away.

"Ponyboy Curtis." The younger one says.

"Aw that's cute, and really weird. I love it." Marely smiles. You don't waste time thinking about why anyone would name their child that because you're too focused on learning the name of the cute boy.

"I'm Johnny Cade." He says. You smile.

"How old are you ...guys?" Phew, great save there on your part.

"I'm 14 and Johnny's 16." Ponyboy answers.

Hehe that's an appropriate age for you to date.

The four of you talk for a little, well, mainly Ponyboy and Marely. You learn that the four of you go to the same school and learn more than you'd ever need to know about a stranger's brothers. Wow, Ponyboy was talkative, but that's okay.

Unfortunately, this fun chatting is cut short when Dallas comes back with two cokes in his hands. He hands one the Marely who, surprisingly takes it and drinks it. You look at her in disbelief. She shrugs.

"This might cool you off." He hands one to you as well then sits down next to you. He lights a cigarette and winks at you.

So, naturally, you do what any rational person would do and dump the coke on him. "This might cool you off! Stop being a jerk and I'll cool off too."

He, unfortunately, doesn't seem fazed. He wipes off his face with his jacket sleeve and grins dangerously. "Fiesty, huh? That's how I like 'em." He starts to put his arm around you but Johnny reaches out and stops him.

"Leave her alone, Dal," he says.

"Huh?" He's mad.

"You heard me, leave her alone." Johnny repeats. You can't help the bit of heat that rushes to your cheeks as you watch him.

Dallas scoffs and stands up, angrily walking off with his fists shoved in his pockets. Later, loser.

You look back at Johnny. "Thank you." You say as sweetly as you can.

"Oh, you're welcome." He's real shy. And that's adorable.

"Why don't y'all come sit up here with us? I'm hurting my neck lookin back like this." Marely suggests.

The boys smile and excitedly look at eachother then agree. As they move to your row, you're hoping that Johnny sits next to you. He does (yay!) and Ponyboy sits between the two of you.

You smile at Johnny when he sits down, and he smiles back. Boy, did you get butterflies.

Suddenly a hand comes down on Johnny's shoulder, paired with a deep voice saying: "Okay, greasers, you've had it!"

You get scared for a moment before you hear laughing and Ponyboy says, "Glory, Two-Bit, don't scare us like that!"

Two-Bit sits down next to Marely. "These your grandmas?" He jokes with a grin on his face.

"Great aunts actually." Marely says. Two-Bit laughs. You glance at Johnny again, and he's already looking at you. So, you blush and quickly look away, then proceed to mentally flip the fuck out. Then, you get a fantastic idea.

"Hey, you guys want anything from the concession stand?" You ask Marely, her new crush, and Ponyboy.

"Yes! Another coke please." Marely smiles.

Two-Bit digs in his back pocket for change. "You mind getting a popcorn for me and Pony?"

"Sure." You smile and graciously accept his 2 quarters and dime.

"Dime's for her coke." He says.

You smile and glance and Marely. "Alright." Then you look back at Johnny. "Will you come with me?"

He seems a little surprised, but he nods. "Yeah, sure."

"Great. C'mon." You stand up and so does he. Together, you walk to the concession stand.

The two of you make small talk as you walk over there. You tell him a bit about yourself and he tells you that he's been friends with Ponyboy, Dallas, and Two-Bit a long time. You keep talking as you stand in line, and as you grab the popcorn, as he grabs a coke and hands it to you, as he grabs another soft drink, and as you pay, as he pays, as you walk back to your friends, as you hand them the coke and popcorn, as you sit back down, and as he hands you the soft drink he bought, the same kind you had mentioned liking while you'd been talking.

"Oh, you didn't have to." You smile happily.

"Yeah.. but I wanted to." He smiles back bashfully.

You look at the bottle in your hands, smile still on your face, as you try to build up the courage to make some sort of move.

You shiver because it has only gotten more chilly out. Yes, you've been freezing this whole time, though, Johnny had been distracting you from that. He must notice you shiver, because he takes of his denim jacket, hesitate for a moment, then puts it over your shoulders.

You blush then look at him and smile. "Thank you, Johnny."

"Don't mention it. Um," he swallows, "would you ever want to.. hang out sometime?" He asks nervously. He looks up from his hands to meet your eyes.

Your cheeks heat up for the millionth time as butterflies swarm your stomach. You nod.

"I'd love to."

an: guys did I eat? 😋 this took over 3 hours what the flip. Please send more requests, lovies!!!

[hellsgreatestfaggot]

Dom!Abby x Reader : Abby eats you out until you cum …

warnings: Slight Sadomasochism, forced stimulation, degredation, Hate-sex, fingering

*disclaimer* this is like the third smut fic ive ever wrote so erm it might be a little bad! anyway if you want to skip directly to the porn look for the ‘‼️‼️‼️’ ! leave suggestions and enjoy

_______________________________________________

It was the brisk morning of april 12th. You were walking alone in the mountains of what used to be the quiet, dainty town of los osos, California. You were on the road for 3 weeks, travelling from seattle to the coast. Trying to find the people who the WLF had made some sort of weird deal with. it wasnt easy, you were supposed to be traveling with someone, but you felt like you didnt need her. you could handle a mission on your own, right?

what irked you more was that your almost-was partner was your competitor. Abby Anderson. she’d been nice to you, she considered you two to be close, but youd eventually had grown jealous of her. her physique, her skillful way of getting the job done, her attractiveness.. yet still, even in your jealousy, something made you wish you could…was it be like her? be with her? be friends with her? honestly you didnt know and you could care less. she was the least of your problems.the leaves crunched underneath your boots, but then suddenly you heard a noise which made you stop dead in your tracks. “What the fuck made that noise?” you thought to yourself, slightly intimidated. You turned around to see a tall woman with a bulky figure and a leather coat, staring back down at you. you jumped back, not expecting someone to be behind you, but a wave of relief washed over you as you realized it was just Abby.

“Suprise”, said a low voice. “What the fuck Abby you scared me half to death?” “Sorry bout’ that , i didnt mean ta’ scare you.” she said with a laugh. “Whatever lets just get this shit over with.” you huffed. you hated her, hated the way she followed you, hated her smile, hated the way she stood behind you like some kind of bodygaurd. she practically towered over you. you needed to get it out of your system, you needed to desperately. you wanted to fuck her, but not nescesarily in a loving way, you wanted it to hurt. deep down you knew it was wrong to feel that way, she just made you angry. shed always been loyal and kind, maybe thats the reason you were still somehow drawn to her.

You walked with her for ages, talking about all sorts of things, from the mission, to your love life, until you stumbled upon a few houses just around the top of the mountains. “Its getting kinda late, why dont we stay here? just for tonight, well be back on the road by morning.” Abby asked, her Greenish-blue eyes looking you up and down, before meeting her eyes with yours and smiling gently. “Yeah sure..whatever..” You replied, desperately trying to ignore the cocky smile on her face.

Abby knew something was wrong. she couldnt quite figure out what it was? was it because she came anyway? Nah, she knew youd eventually need her. you both stepped inside one of the houses, making sure it was clear for the night. inside there was a living room, a bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom. kinda wimpy for a house but nonetheless it was better than nothing. You sat on the couch while abby took off her bulky jacket, revealing a almost see through white tank top. it flattered her muscular body perfectly. You felt your cheeks heat up, and started squirming, trying to adjust yourself without her noticing. But of course she noticed.

‼️‼️‼️

“Whats wrong, sweetheart…” she said calmly. “are you tired…? or do you just want sm’more?” she giggled. You tried to laugh it off but she sat next to you, grabbing on your thighs subconsciously, which just made you feel horny. You let out a sigh, thinking to yourself if you were really about to let her fuck you as if you were some sort of prostitute. yeah you totally were. A shiver ran down your spine as her cold hands traced over your thighs, your body yearned for her touch. “Lets make this quick, what do you say princess.?” She said in a low, raspy voice. You didnt wanna wait anymore, eagerly ripping your clothes off. itd been way too long since youd been touched, and maybe a hate fuck was what you needed?

She parted your thighs, removing your underwear which exposed your throbbing cunt. She could practically smell your exitement. Taking one finger and in one swoop, grazing over your heat. you Gasped, looking down at Abby, who just as you made eye contact buried her face into your sopping wet pussy. Her skilled tounge Lapping ferociously at your clit, Brought you close in a matter of seconds. just as you were about to finish she pulled away, a string of spit connecting the two to eachother. “Whyd you stop?” She glared up at you. “Stop fucking squiriming, Slut.” She grappled at your thighs holding them still, and immediately went back to eating you out. You felt tears well up in your eyes, you grabbed her hair, shoving her face even deeper, and grinding on her , desperate for any friction you could get. Her muffled grunts becoming more intense and focused as she inserted 2 fingers inside of your aching hole. “ahah..a-bby..” was all you managed to get out. you felt your orgasm approaching rapidly, Bucking your hips up, crying out for her to keep going. “Hnh…f-faster…a-ab-by..m’gonna cum…”

She looked up for a moment at the mess she was able to create, huffing under her breath, “fucking whore. cant get enough.” and diving back down, her tounge swirling on your sensitive bud. Your high hit you like a ton of bricks, and you came all over her face, exhausted. but she didnt stop, she kept going, forcing you to take the rest of her rough licking, riding out your orgasm. when she finally stopped she made eye contact with you and licked your juices off her fingers, and kissing you, forcing you to taste yourself. “good job princess… you did so well.” She planted a kiss on your neck before giving you her jacket, and cleaning up the mess you had made. you laid on top of her, and found yourself secure in the knowledge shed be there when you awoke.

_____________________________________________

A/N

i want to ride abbys face

This was pretty fun to write, leave some ideas or tips pretty please🙏🏽🙏🏽

[hogwartsandhawkins]

Prove Me Wrong

Chapter 17: Winds of Change

If you need to catch up, here's the Masterlist

Summary: Jess and the gang get kicked out

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: Fighting, mentions of blood, bruising, face injuries, of aged men hitting on under-aged girls 🤢, angst. As always let me know if I missed something!

AN: So I got a new laptop, and was super excited to write on it. And then when I uploaded my word doc, it crashed. 🤗 Long story short, after crying and being unmotivated to redo everything that I thought I lost, I fixed it.

The street was full of cars when Jess and Billy pulled up, causing them to park further down the street away from Tina’s. Billy pulled the parking brake and turned off the ignition, turning back to Jess. 

“So what the hell did he say?” Billy was staring at Jess, completely surprised that she had already admitted to Steve that they were a little more than just partners for an English project now.

“He suggested that we hold hands and skip through the football field.” Jess rolled her eyes as she heard the strong laugh leaving Billy’s body. 

“So is he pissed?”

“He’s not exactly thrilled…” 

“Yeah, well. Fuck it,” Billy shrugged unbuckling Jess’s seatbelt for her before taking the keys from the ignition, “Bout time he realized you’re your own person.” 

“He already does, Billy-“

“No he doesn’t. ‘’Cuz god forbid you decided to go to this party without him.” Before Jess could continue arguing, he opened his own door and stepped out, reminding her to “Stay right there,” as he left. When he opened the door for her, waiting for her to step out, he continued, “It’s like he wants you two attached to the hip…” He shook his head, looking as if he were annoying himself with the thought of Steve Harrington always around. 

Once Jess was out of the car, she began to take off the jacket, causing Billy to drop his current thought. “What’re you doin’, leave it on…” 

“I don’t wanna carry it all night when I have to take it off inside.” Before Jess had it all the way off, however, Billy quickly shed the one he was wearing, throwing it in the back and closing the passenger door. 

“There. Problem solved.”

“How-“ 

“Geez, Jess, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” Billy teased, “When you don’t want it, I’ll take it alright? Just… keep it on. Least till we get in…”

“You just want it on me to piss off Steve.” They began walking away from the car, the sound of music becoming louder despite the already drowning sound of teenagers that littered her outdoor area. There were easily twice as many people at this party compared to the one Carol had, as Tina was never picky about who came, something Jess had always appreciated about her. 

“I didn’t even know we were seeing pretty boy tonight, alright. Can we lay off the subject now?” 

“Oooh, someone’s testy,” Jess’s smile was faint as she poked fun at him, but slowly faded when she looked up to realize he wasn’t smiling back. “Okay… sorry…”

“No, it’s just… You ever get tired of only thinking about Steve when you do something?” 

“I do not!” 

“Like two goddamn peas in a pod. You’re obsessed with him, he’s obsessed with you,” Billy sighed, slowing down their pace to further the conversation without anyone overhearing, ensuring this by looking around before he spoke again, “It just would be awesome if I could do shit for you without you thinking it’s all this weird thing to piss Harrington off.” 

“Right, because you weren’t trying to at the diner?”

“Jess,” Suddenly, Billy stopped walking entirely, turning his entire body to face her as he looked past her, focusing on his actions from earlier. “I wasn’t trying to piss him off. I was just… fuck…” His shoulders shrugged with frustration, tensing as they dropped again. He looked over toward the house, his jaw now as tense as his shoulders. “He needs to know that I’m not exactly going anywhere,” His head slowly inched back to her as he sucked in a final breath for courage before continuing, “That I’m here to stay.” His eyes flicked to another group walking past them, behind Jess, locking onto them until they were far enough for Billy’s liking.  “Look, I’m not asking for him to like me. I just want him to know that we at least got one thing in common.” 

“And what’s that?” Jess took a step in his direction as she watched him look around one last time. 

“That we both think you’re cool as shit,” He answered as if it were obvious, now walking toward the house at the same, slow pace they had previously. 

Jess followed closely, her arm only inches from his. “Oh yeah? I figured it would be something like how you’re both scarily obsessed with basketball or something.”

“No, Logan. See, thing is, there’s still a big difference between me and him when it comes to basketball. I’m actually good and your little boy toy sucks.”

“He does not suck.” 

“Oh, so that’s the part of the sentence you’re gonna correct?” 

“He does not suck.”

Billy let out an airy laugh as he shoved his hands in his pockets due to the cold, his breath visible when his chuckle dragged out. “Alright, so he’s not that bad.”

“He’s starting five.” 

“So am I.” 

“So there you go,” Jess countered, “You both don’t suck.” 

Billy shook his head in surrender as they reached the wide-open front door. They both looked past the entryway into the main living room, which was already packed, when Jess felt two hands on either side of her neck, patting her shoulders softly.  

“We goin’ in or what?” Jess turned around to see Steve, Jason, Chrissy, and Patrick standing behind her, the others that came with them squeezing past to get inside. Jess and Billy lead the rest of the group toward the kitchen, Steve staying close behind. The music was even louder than it usually was, possibly due to the fact that Tina’s party wasn’t the only social gathering happening on this street. There were never any noise complaints called in on New Year’s Eve, surprising in a small town like Hawkins, and even if there were, there was always a good chance that Hopper would ignore them for the holiday. 

As they made it to the crowded kitchen, Jess noticed a large group of boys she had never seen before stocking the fridge with an assortment of beers, liquor, and mixers. It wasn’t until Tina’s older brother, Christopher, joined them from the dining room that she realized why she’d never seen them before. 

“Hey, Chris.” Jess watched as Tina sauntered over with Nicole, Vickie, Katie, and Jane, who were all giggling, seemingly excited that Tina gave them automatic access to the only college boys at the party. Before Jess could continue listening in, one of Christopher’s friends took notice of her, giving her a look that quickly made her uncomfortable. She turned around to face Steve, causing him to stop. 

“You okay, kid?” 

“Yeah, yeah it’s just, the kitchen looks packed, you know…” Steve looked past her, shrugging his shoulders as he looked into what seemed to be the most open part of the house.

Billy, however, looked where Jess had earlier, taking notice of the older group by the fridge. “You want anything outta there, princess?” He asked without taking his eyes off the cluster of boys. The question made Steve’s eyes roll, but he didn’t interject, allowing Jess to place her request. When he walked past the kitchen island to retrieve a red cup, he caught the attention of Jane, who quickly left the now large group she was in to stride her way over to him. 

“Hey there, Hargrove.” Jane leaned into him slightly, eyeing the drink that he now had in his hand with amusement. “That for me? Because that’s definitely not for you.” 

Billy looked down at the cup as well before laughing coldly, the corners of his mouth pulling downwards. “And why not?” The sarcasm dripped from his question, causing Jane to lean away, not sure if this banter was the friendly kind. 

“Because I know what you actually want.” 

Billy picked up on her tone, clearly expressing she was no longer talking about beer. “Yeah, I doubt that,” He deadpanned, not breaking eye contact as he watched her expression change from confident to irritated in a matter of seconds. 

“Really? Because that’s not the impression I got before break.” She batted her lashes ironically, challenging him on his not-so-new attitude towards her. He finally broke the staring, walking himself to the fridge that was still being crowded around. He pushed past the boys, not troubling himself to ask them to move as he bumped shoulders with the one now chatting up Nicole. To his dismay, she had followed him. He turned around to see her crossing her arms over her chest, almost as if she was triumphantly looking at the can he now had. “What did I tell ya, knew exactly what you’d be going for.”

“Don’t you got some desperate college dude to bug?” He asked rather loudly, still unbothered by the fact that said college boys were gathered around behind him. Billy heard one of them mumble something behind his back but didn’t budge to look behind him, as he felt he’d made his point perfectly clear. 

Jane looked over at the group he came in with, scoffing when her eyes met the back of Steve’s head, watching who he was talking to. “I didn’t know you were friends with Steve Harrington now.” When Billy only rolled his eyes in response, about ready to walk away, she poked at him once more, successfully stopping him in his tracks. “So, what you’re saying is you’d rather hang with Harrington and his little prude all night than have some actual fun, Hargrove?”

Billy scrunched his nose in annoyance, his jaw clenching as he heard the nickname Jane spat out. He wanted to retaliate, possibly hurt her feelings to the point where it would have ruined the rest of her night. There were names that were already lined up in his mind that he could call her and could have probably justified even hours later after he possibly felt bad for his actions. But he stood there for a moment, chewing on his tongue behind his closed lips that were contorted into a sneer. He stared off into the crowd, not exactly fixating on one person, refusing to look back at her face which he was sure was now sporting a satisfied grin, knowing it would anger him further. Instead, he cleared his throat and relaxed his jaw before responding with a simple, “Just fuck off, Jane,” not even bothering to finish his sentence before he continued walking back to Jess and Steve. 

Jess listened to Steve talk about the upcoming tournament as she glanced over to Billy, who was now striding toward her with two drinks in hand. Behind him, Jane purposely caught her attention, waving with only her fingers as she eyed the outfit she was in. Jess watched as her eyes landed suddenly on Billy’s jacket, taking a moment before forcing herself to peel them away and walk back toward the rest of her friends. Jess broke into a small smile, causing Steve to stop mid-sentence. “What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing,” Jess quickly responded, her eyes finding their way back to Steve’s. 

“So, Harrington, you hangin’ with us all night?” Billy stood next to the both of them, taking a quick sip out of Jess’s drinking, ensuring it tasted right, before handing it over to her. Steve thought for a moment, looking over at the red cup Jess had in her hand and then to Billy, who was now taking a drink out of his own Beer. 

“You totally can, if you want. It’s no big deal really,” Jess interrupted his thoughts, not wanting him to think that he had to leave. 

“You know what,” He looked over his shoulder to look around the room, “I kinda owe Heather a dance.” He then straightened his neck back to look over Billy intently. He stood there for a moment longer, evidently recalling something from earlier as he stared at Jess’s cup once more, causing him to relax his shoulders slightly. “Don’t have too much fun without me…” He then gave Jess a friendly smile as he backed away, turning to disappear into the crowd. 

Jess continued to look in the direction that she last saw Steve. “Weird…” 

“What? Weird that pretty boy left?” He took another long drink out of his beer, pretending not to even notice his absence, though if he was being honest with himself, he also found it odd as well that Steve had just agreed to leave them alone. He had intended the question to be a joke, fully expecting Steve to follow Jess around all night, not allowing her a single moment alone with him. And again, if he were being honest, he couldn’t really blame him. 

“I mean, he did cancel Benny’s just to be here…”

“Eh, like he said. He owes some girl a dance.” He shrugged it off as he scanned the room, catching Hagen’s attention as he looked toward the back door. 

“Aye! B!” Jess surprisingly was able to hear Tommy shout over the speakers, watching him pull Carol by the hand through the crowd. 

“Jesus, Tommy, slow down…” Carol mumbled as they reached Billy and Jess, pulling her hand away once his grip loosened. “Hey, you two.” 

“Did I just see you with Harrington?” Tommy questioned, not yet greeting Jess. 

“Yeah, what was that all about…” Carol left Tommy’s side and joined Jess, looking back over at her before adding, “No offense,” to the end of her sentence. 

“Nothing important.” 

Carol looked over at Jess, giving her the same look Chrissy always did when it came to Billy. “Well, I think it’s cute that you’re getting along with him now… Anyways. Tommy’s wanting a rematch.”

“I can’t this time. Driving.” Billy then gestured with his can over to Jess, giving her a wink before further explaining. “Gotta take this one home.” 

“Dude, lame.” Tommy groaned, “Why don’t you both just crash here?” 

“Jess has a curfew, remember?” Carol poked fun at her, pinching her cheeks as if she was a child. “It’s fine, the girls will play a round. Does your goody-two-shoes friend drink, like, at all?”

“Chrissy, I mean… yeah… sometimes but-“

“Good, wave goodbye to the boys,” Carol then looped her arm with Jess’s, walking purposefully toward Jason, Chrissy, and Patrick. “Cunningham. Come on, you’re up at beer pong.” 

Chrissy quickly stood at Jess’s side as they made their way to the kitchen. “I’m not very good…” She said apologetically, causing Carol to giggle. 

“Good. You’re on Jess’s team then.”

“You’ll be fine, Chris. Carol’s not very good either.”

“Bite me.” Carol led them away from Jason and Patrick, who were now eyeing the three girls suspiciously, and began making her way to the kitchen, eyeing the group that was still by the fridge. 

“Please don’t ask Jane to play…” Jess groaned, now dragging her feet a bit. 

“Oh god no. She fucking hates you, you know that right? Why would I ask her to play?” 

“Yes, Carol. Thank you. I know.” 

“I wonder why…” Chrissy leaned in, laughing out loud as she watched the way Jane quickly snapped her head over her shoulder as she heard footsteps coming toward her. 

“Tina, let’s play.” Carol unlooped her arm from Jess’s and grabbed Tina’s hand, pulling rather aggressively, only allowing Tina to wave by to a couple of the girls before she was headed out of the kitchen. Jess and Chrissy followed closely behind them as they navigated their way around the maze of teenagers that crowded the living room. When they finally made it outside, Jess saw Tommy and Billy already waiting for them by the table, Billy quickly making his way to Jess to grab the cup out of her hand. 

“Hey! I’m not-“

“Yeah, you’re done with this.” Billy then downed the barely touched drink, crushing the cup when he was done, tossing it toward the opened black bag that was by the ping pong table. “Like I said, I’m not bringing you home completely sloshed.”

“Oh don’t worry, Billy, your girl’s gonna be plenty sloshed when we’re done with her.” Carol then high-fived Tina as they set up their side of the table. “Hurry up and get over here, Logan, I’m tryna win.” 

Billy shook his head, leaning in to whisper in Jess’s ear. “Don’t worry, Tina’s shot’s trash. Played against her on Halloween. Go kick their ass, princess.”

Jess walked over next to Chrissy, who was putting their cups together, occasionally looking up at Tina and Carol’s side to make sure she was doing it right. Out of the corner of her eye, Jess watched as Jason and Patrick joined them by the table, Chrissy giving her boyfriend a shy grin as she waved over to him.

Carol let Chrissy start the game, teasing them by stating how it didn’t matter, and how she and Tina were going to win anyway. Their game went on for what felt like forever, most of their shots bouncing out of cups or missing them completely. Eventually, Steve wandered into the backyard as well, stopping by the table to watch. Once a little over half of the cups were gone, Jess looked over at Chrissy, who was now continuously bumping into her, giggling uncontrollably as she apologized each time. 

“I think Chris might be done,” Jess mentioned, watching as her friend took her time to grasp the ball and aim. 

“No! I’m fine… I just don’t drink a lot,” she continued to giggle, looking over at Jason as he started walking over to her. 

“Don’t get too wasted now.” Jason was now over, counting the cups on her side of the table. “You still got boutta hour to midnight.” 

“Okay okay, fine.” She tossed the ball haphazardly to Jason, who quickly shot his hand up to catch it, not expecting the toss. “You play then.”

“Hey, that means we win.” Carol pointed out, counting how many cups each team had left. “Logan, if she quits, we win!”

“Okay, fine, Carol, you win.” Jess gave in, causing both Tina and Carol to cheer, once again high-fiving each other. 

“What happened to kicking their ass, Logan?” Billy teased, watching her walk back to the side of the table. 

“Yeah, well, Tina had a better shot than you said.”

“Hey!” Tina overheard, crossing her arms as she stared down Billy. 

Jason still held the small ball, bouncing it off the table and catching it with his opposite hand. “You wanna finish this out, Patrick?” 

When he agreed, Tommy jumped in as well, “I’ll take other side. C’mon, B, jump in. We only got like… six cups left.” 

Billy nodded his head slowly, counting the cups himself, convinced he’d only have to drink a couple of them before he and Hagen won. “I ain’t playin’ another one after.” He then threw his now empty beer can in the trash bag that lay on the grass, its contents spilled out around it. “Watch how it’s done, princess.” He walked to Tommy’s side, Steve now taking his place by Jess. 

“Watch how it’s done, princess,” Steve mocked quietly, earning him a punch in the arm. “Good thing you’re staying another three hours. Those guys are good.” He nodded his head to Jason and Patrick before continuing, “No way he’s not downing all three of his.”

“Yeah right… Jason and Patrick only have four left. No way.”

“Oh yeah, well so do Hargrove and Hagen now.” 

Jess shot her attention back to the game, realizing that both Jason and Patrick must have made it in one, Jason now aiming the ball again. When he sank his second shot in the cup nearest Billy, Tommy pounded on the table, watching his friend down his second beer already. “Shit, shit…” The game was over quickly, with Billy only making one shot before the other four cups on his side were gone. 

“What happened to showing me how it was done, Hargrove?” 

“How the hell could I have known that the lightweight’s boyfriend could actually pl- owww.”

“Don’t call her that!”

“You look over at her recently?” 

He nodded his head toward the ground where Chrissy was sitting, looking up at the stars. Jason walked over to her, helping her up as she finally fixed her eyes on him. “Did you win?” 

Jason only laughed at her, leading her back inside so she could sit on the couch. “This is why you don’t play beer pong, baby.” He sat her down on the right side of the living room couch, plopping down next to her as she leaned against the armrest. Billy and Jess followed, Steve close behind them as they entered the house, all three sitting on the loveseat opposite the couch. It was a slightly tight squeeze for the three of them, causing Jess to be partially on Billy’s lap, something he didn’t mind at all. The close proximity caused her to take off Billy’s jacket, which Billy quickly took from her, draping it over the leg she currently wasn’t sitting on. 

Tina, Tommy, and Carol soon entered through the backdoor as well, making Jason scoot closer to Chrissy as they too squeezed to sit on the couch, Carol sitting completely on top of Tommy. Unfortunately, with Tina now sitting with them, the rest of her friends came as well, the college boys following closely behind them. Jess quickly felt eyes on her, and this time, it wasn’t Jane’s stare that caused her to feel uncomfortable. 

Jess nodded back at Tina’s brother, who sat on the floor in front of his sister after wordlessly greeting her. That’s when Jess noticed the same boy from earlier in the kitchen, seemingly more confident now, whether it be from alcohol or from the fact that he realized his friend was acquaintances with Jess. He eyed her noticeably, going out of his way to sit on part of the floor closer to the loveseat, grinning at her once again before pretending to listen to a conversation that was taking place on the couch. On his third attempt of getting Jess’s attention, Billy noticed, causing him to grit his teeth before releasing his jaw again, not wanting his annoyance to be obvious. He then looked over at Jess, attempting to gauge her interest. When she looked as if she were about to crawl out of her skin, he threw his arm around the back of her shoulders, leaning back into the cushions as if trying to convince his body to relax. 

He squeezed her shoulder gently, reassuring her that he was there, to not worry about the creep that happened to be there. Billy didn’t care to know the dude, didn’t care to know his intentions. His longing looks at a high schooler were enough to profile him as a weirdo that he couldn’t wait to get Jess away from. Based on the amount of alcohol at this party, he assumed this man was at least legal drinking age, knowing his friend, Tina’s brother, was 21 as well. Billy leaned down to whisper in Jess’s ear, still not taking his eyes off the only non-teenagers there. 

“You want anything outta the kitchen, princess?”

“It’s okay…” Jess answered quietly, seemingly able to read his mind, “Don’t worry about it… I’m sure they’ll leave.” She traced Billy’s gaze to the same guy still looking over at her, making her quickly look away. It took every ounce of patience in Billy to not call it out, to not pull him up by his collar, hitting him continuously until he fell back down on the floor. But it was only a look, he kept telling himself. He couldn’t risk looking crazy in front of Jess, or worse, embarrassing her in front of their whole class due to just a look. After another ten minutes of attempting to be interested in conversation, however, he kept glancing down at the college boy, apparently named Dennis.

Stupid fucking name.

Dennis had also continued to do the same to both him and Jess, looking between the two of them before staring at Jess for an unwanted amount of time, his eyes appearing to forget that she, too, was a person. Against Billy’s better judgment, he looked over at Steve before looking back at Jess. 

“I need a drink,” He said before whispering in Jess’s ear, “Stay with Steve, I’ll be back in a bit with some water for you, yeah?” He then got up and left Jess’s side, making sure to leave his jacket by her, using it to claim his spot. Jess watched as he disappeared into the crowd, spotting the way he would turn his head back over in their direction occasionally, jaw clenching every time he did. When she could no longer see him, she scooted herself closer to Steve, hoping that would save her from Dennis wanting to socialize with her in any way. It seemed to work for a moment, but she began to grow nervous when Billy had yet to show back up after a few minutes away. Dennis obviously had taken notice as well, scrutinizing the leather jacket that was placed in his way. 

Jess stayed as small as she could, refusing to make eye contact with anyone, until someone within the crowd shouted, “TWO MINUTES TILL MIDNIGHT!” Everyone began cheering, most of the group that was sitting began to stand, awaiting the anticipated countdown. It looked as if Dennis was lost in the crowd, making Jess relax for a moment, only to become on edge again when she felt an unfamiliar hand grab her wrist. 

“Hey,” Jess turned around to see Dennis now standing in front of her, much too close for her liking. “So where you gonna be at midnight?” She could unmistakably smell vodka on his breath, which made her stomach churn, it smelling much less pleasant than the slight smell of hops Billy would have after he would drink. 

She tried pulling away softly, but when his grip didn’t loosen, she panicked, looking back at Steve for help. “Sorry, I’m just gonna hang out with some friends…” She responded, still looking over at Steve who quickly arrived next to her. 

“Hang out with me instead.” He retorted confidently, not caring who was currently next to her. 

“Uhm no I-“

“She’s not interested, bud,” Steve quickly butted in, now directing his attention toward Jess, pulling her arm away, “C’mon kid, let’s go.” 

Jess eagerly began following him away until she was again stopped by the same unfamiliar hand, Dennis’s other hand nudging Steve away. “How about she tell me she’s not interested.” Jess felt her blood run cold, looking at the difference in stature between her friend and the unwanted college boy, who stood taller and broader than Steve did. However, it didn’t deter Steve from pushing back, much harder than Dennis had pushed him. 

“Let go of her, or else.” Steve was now in Dennis’s face, causing Christopher to come over, trying to defuse the situation. 

“Come on, Den, let’s get outta here…” Tina’s brother attempted to whisper, trying to take his friend’s hand from around Jess’s wrist. Jess continued to watch the way the older boy’s eyes faded in and out, clearly intoxicated, and furious. She tried to free her arm once again, but was much weaker than the stocky brunette, when suddenly someone grabbed Christopher’s shirt, quickly pulling him away from Dennis, Billy now standing in his place. Jess then felt a slight pinch in her wrist, hurting only for a moment, realizing after that her hand was suddenly free from Dennis’s grasp and secured softly in Billy’s. He then let go slowly, pointing over to Steve without taking his eyes off Dennis. Jess did as she was wordlessly told, making her way back to Steve’s side. She had never seen him this inflamed, his eyes wide and wild, his jaw ticking with anger. Everyone else besides a select few had yet to notice what was going on around them, continuing to count down, which almost drowned out what Billy said next. 

“You wanna explain why you’re touching my girl?” 

She wasn’t sure if she had heard it correctly, or sure if she, or anyone besides Dennis, was meant to hear it, but she was sure she would have been blushing currently if it wasn’t for the situation they were in. 

“FIVE!”

She watched the way Billy was now shaking out his wrists, occasionally clenching and unclenching his hands into fists, stretching out his fingers when they were released. She’s seen this movement from him only once before, and it didn’t turn out so good for the other boy he was facing that night. 

“FOUR!”

Billy patiently waited for a response, Dennis coming up with one he wasn’t expecting. The older boy chuckled at him, looking back over at Jess before saying, “Didn’t seem like your girl when I was talkin’ to her.”

“THREE!”

Billy’s expression slowly changed from enraged to feigned amusement, smiling maliciously before he chuckled back, scrunching up his nose as he did so. He continued to stare at him, nodding wordlessly before running his tongue along his top row of teeth. 

“TWO!”

Steve seemed to recognize this look as well, taking a step forward to get ready to shield Jess if needed, but still not obstructing her view. She then watched as Billy took one last look over at her, the same smile still there, but his mouth now closed. However, his eyes had a different look, almost apologetic in a way, before he turned back his attention to the creep in front of him. 

“ONE!”

“Yeah... Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure to show her a good ti-“

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Dennis’s snide comment was quickly interrupted by a fist to the mouth, causing everyone in the vicinity to back away, some staring wide-eyed, others now cheering. Despite Dennis being slightly taller and wider than Billy, he didn’t seem to be able to stand up to the younger teen, who was relentlessly throwing punch after punch, not stopping until one of Dennis’s other friends jabbed Billy in the gut. Jess watched the way Billy winced in pain, now turning his attention to the other boy. When she saw Dennis standing up again, now squaring up to take an unfair punch, Jess almost screamed at Billy to turn around, but Steve stopped her as he pushed her back against the crowd softly. 

“Awe fuck,” Steve mumbled before quickly walking up to the other boy, grabbing his collar before shouting, “Hey!” He then swung his arm back, punching him so hard the boy’s cap flew off. Billy glanced over at Steve briefly, surprised at the sudden help. He then nodded at Steve before turning his attention back over to Dennis. Just when both Billy and Steve seemed to be holding their own, Steve taking on a few more punches than Billy, two other college boys stepped up, Christopher being one of them, who was now also swinging at Billy with Dennis. Jess could hardly keep track of the two boys she came with, watching helplessly as both of them disappeared in the middle of the four older ones. Jason and Patrick, however, emerged from the crowd, trying to pull the other boys off Steve and Billy. Jess watched as Jason grabbed for Christopher, who quickly turned and clocked Jason in the jaw, taking him aback only for a moment before he tackled Tina’s brother to the ground. The fighting went on for only moments more until Jess suddenly saw Billy grab for Dennis’s legs, swiftly lifting him and slamming him into Tina’s coffee table, the legs buckling and center cracking from the weight. 

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Tina’s voice could be heard over everyone’s cheering, which quickly stopped once she screamed. “MY PARENTS ARE GONNA FREAK!!” Billy slowly rose from the top of Dennis, dusting his legs off before straightening back up, grimacing in pain as he did. Jason and Patrick both helped Steve off the floor who was now sporting a bloody nose. Billy simply stared at Dennis as he pitifully rolled off the now broken table onto his hands and knees, having a hard time getting back on his feet. Chrissy was now at Jess’s side, holding her hand in anticipation as she looked over at her boyfriend, who was also holding onto his own nose, blood dripping from his hand. However, Jess overlooked Jason’s or Patrick’s injuries, her worried gaze leaving Steve and now focusing on Billy, who now had a bruise forming on his cheek, his bottom lip cut. He had yet to look over at her, his eyes still fixed on the boy on the floor almost as if he was challenging him to get back up. He didn’t even flinch or look over when Tina began to yell again next to him. 

“All of you!” She then pointed at all the boys but her brother, “OUT!” 

Jason began trying to speak up, “C’mon Tina, they-“

“I said GET OUT!” 

Jason ran his hand over his face, flicking blood off, walking toward Chrissy, grabbing her hand with his unbloodied one, then nodding at Jess. “Let’s get out of here.” He then looked at the older boys in disgust as he led the girls to the front door, Patrick already out in the front yard. Billy swiped his jacket from the couch, looking back unsatisfied at Dennis one last time before turning and leaving as well, gesturing at Steve to follow him. Billy quickly caught up to Jess, staying close behind her. She could hear how rapidly he was breathing, making her look back at him, causing him to lock eyes with her before he placed his hand on the small of her back, telling her to keep moving. When they finally reached the concrete step that separated the communal sidewalk from the path leading up to Tina’s doorway, all four boys plopped down to sit, looking exhausted. Jess was the first to speak. 

“I’m so sorry guys I-“ 

“Don’t you dare fuckin’ apologize.” Billy stopped her, shaking his head as he stared blankly across the street. 

“Yeah, it’s not your fault, Jess.” Steve agreed, flashing her a sympathetic smile. “You alright?”

Before Jess could answer, however, Billy snapped his head in Jess’s direction, his eyes coming back into focus. “Let me see it,” he demanded, his voice lower in register.

“What?” Jess looked back at him now, confused at what exactly he was requesting. 

“Your wrist. Let me see it.” He held out his hand, figuring she would automatically comply, placing her hand into his, allowing him to examine it carefully as he intended. When she didn’t make a move to do so, his eyes darkened. “Jess…” 

The wrist in question was tucked securely under her blue sleeve, her fingers grasping the fabric against her palm tightly. She had yet to look at it either, but she was sure there was at least a red mark, based on how tight the older boy had ahold of it and how promptly Billy removed his grip when he saw it. She had just watched Billy calm down a bit, and she wasn’t too keen on seeing his rage spike back up. 

“You alright, kid?” Steve now reached for it, the wrist being closer to him than it was to Billy, but she moved it out of easy reach. 

“You guys are freaking out over nothing, it’s fine.” 

“Then let me see it,” Billy spoke again, his voice attempting to hold steady, not wanting Jess to mistake his anger as being directed at her.

“I’ll let you see it when we get out of here…” Jess softly responded, causing Billy to rise from his concrete seat next to Steve, his leather jacket still in hand. “Billy…” He said nothing in response, draping the jacket over Jess’s shoulders before gently reaching for her left wrist, raising it close to his chest before pushing her sleeve out of the way. Jess was surprised to see bruised lines forming in the shape of fingers. They were light, but certainly there. She then looked up at Billy, who was contorting his mouth in an angered frown, looking over her shoulder and then back at her wrist, as if trying to adjust his eyesight to ensure he was seeing this right. 

“Ga’damn,” Patrick now stood next to her, peering over to see the bruises. “That’s fucked, Logan.”

Jess’s eyes moved in his direction in annoyance, indicating he wasn’t helping any, Patrick throwing up his hands in response. Billy still had yet to say a thing, still adjusting his eyesight away from her wrist, only to find himself looking at it again, becoming more unwound with every glance. When he couldn’t keep looking at it, he turned to face Tina’s front door, his chest now heaving. 

“Billy no,” Jess said suddenly, not knowing whether he was thinking about going back in to find Dennis again or not. 

Steve must have felt the tension as well, also rising from the step, looking down at Jess’s wrist once, cringing at the sight of it. “C’mon man, let’s just leave.”

“And go where? Our rides are still inside.” Jason finally spoke up, still sitting as Chrissy stood over him, her hands secured in his, him not wanting to let go of her just yet. 

“You guys didn’t drive here?” Jess asked, looking over at Steve who typically always took his car. 

“Not this time.” 

“Awe shit…” Patrick cursed, sitting himself back down next to Jason.

“I can’t go back home now, my mom’s gonna flip if she sees blood all over me, gotta at least get this shit off me,” Jason groaned, Patrick quickly agreeing with him. 

“We could always go back to Benny’s like we planned?” Chrissy suggested, now trying to rub some of the blood off his cheeks. 

“With what car, babe?”

Jess gave Billy an inquiring look, practically asking permission before she mentioned his car out loud. 

“Can’t drive yet, princess… thought we’d be here for another two hours.”

“Steve’s sober,” she quickly responded.

He glanced over at Steve, now standing awkwardly next to the two of them, before shaking his head. “Hell no.”

“C’mon, Billy. You wanna sit here the rest of the night? Let’s go to Benny’s, you guys wash up, let the rest of your buzz go ‘way in the next couple hours.” When he didn’t budge, she added, “He’s a really good driver…” causing Billy to roll his eyes. 

Jason and Patrick looked up hopefully at Billy, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible as other classmates were now starting to come outside to ‘mingle’, making sure to continue to stare at the banished group. “There’s not ‘nuff seats, and the back’s small as shit.”

“It’s cool, Chris will sit on my lap, Jess and Pat can sit in the back with us, you get front since it’s your car. No big deal.”

Billy stood there for a moment, considering everything he heard before wordlessly tossing his keys to Steve. He then walked ahead of them, a little peeved this was how his night was ending, with a busted lip, a bruised ego, a ruined buzz, Steve fucking Harrington now driving his prized possession, and worst of all, it was his first real night out with Jess.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” He mumbled under his breath, “Just great.”

When they finally reached his car, he stood by the passenger door, eyeing Steve with warning. “If you put a single scratch on her, you’re dead.” He then threw the seat in the upright position, moving out of the way so Jess could squeeze in the middle. Steve did the same, Jason moving into the back seat behind the driver’s side, positioning himself before outstretching his hand to help Chrissy onto his lap. When Patrick began to enter behind Jess, Billy suddenly stopped him, grabbing him by the shirt and tugging backward before mumbling, “You take front.” 

Jess smiled when she saw Billy enter, pushing herself over into Jason more to try and make room for him. When he was semi-comfortable, he adjusted the seat back to allow Patrick to sit, leaning back after to try and relax. However, the tight fit made that difficult, not having much room for his legs. He stretched his left arm behind Jess, shifting every two seconds. “Ah shit…”

“Here, you want me to…” Jess then tried scooting her leg out of the way to allow Billy’s leg more room in the middle. 

After a few more failed attempts to sit comfortably, Billy grumbled in irritation. “Fuck it. C’mere.” He then grabbed Jess by the hips and effortlessly positioned her on his right leg, her back now facing the small triangle window. He placed his right arm in between her and the door, providing her back with more support, shifting lower so her head wasn’t rubbing against the ceiling. Her legs dangled in between Billy’s, which were now comfortably spread. “This alright?” He whispered in her ear. 

She began to nod when Steve entered the car, looking behind him. “You guys okay back th- … ere.” His eyes fixed on Jess and Billy, giving them both a disapproving stare. However, it only lasted for a moment before he turned back around, turning the ignition. He then readjusted the rearview mirror so Jess was able to see his eyes clearly. “Ready to go then? You guys… situated?”

“Ready when you are, Harrington,” Jason grinned, squeezing Chrissy’s thigh as he winked at her playfully. 

“Jess?” Steve questioned, glancing back at her through the mirror. 

“Uh y-up! Ready!” 

Steve nodded, appearing to relax as he accepted her response, again adjusting the mirror so he could see the road behind him.

“Let’s get the hell outta here then.”

Taglist: @nix-rose @fandom-princess-forevermore @ooo---hazelgrimm---ooo @axionn @defenslessheart-main @the-lost-are-ignored @ahoyyharrington @strawberrykittey

[heckinconfusedparade]

Y’all I just had a wacky dream bout the third movie.

Everyone was super?? First weird thing, but then Shadow lost his super and started falling. Thankfully they weren’t in space.

Sonic fumbled with chaos emeralds that lost their power, making him not super anymore. Still he rushes to catch Shadow, and manages to cushion his fall. He hugs this dude close, Shadow’s head comfortably nuzzled into Sonic’s chest. Comfy boy.

Then Shadow starts to shake. Sonic is concerned.

Shadow stands up.

Sonic looks on in horror and disturbed.

Without chaos, Shadow has become Ugly Shadow. Specifically the Ugly Shadow equivalent to Ugly Sonic from the Chip & Dale movie.

Sonic stutters out “dude.. I’m so sorry.”

In a voice that sounded like Nendo’s (the disastrous life of Saiki k) English va but spoken more from the gut, Shadow says “Nah, it’s fine. But.. why would you do that, man?”

And then I thankfully woke up. I can’t believe my brain lured me into a false Sonadow pillow then forced me to look at ugly shadow WHO WAS WEARING A BEAT UP LEATHER JACKET BY THE WAY

I need a moment. I need like 1666 hours to recover from this.

[drivinmeinsane]

Give Me the Night

※ Holland March x Jackson Healy ※

{ masterlist } ※ { ao3 }

※ Summary: Like most jobs involving stakeouts, the night is going by slowly. That all takes a turn, however, when March finally pushes his fellow Nice Guy too far.

※ Rating: 18+ for explicit mature content

※ Content/Tags: Idiots in Love, Blow Jobs, Tit Jobs, Inappropriate use of a Semi-Public Space, Excessive Cum, Internalized period-typical homophobia, Emotionally Constipated Jackson Healy, Typical Idiot Holland March, Porn with Comedy AND Feelings, Collaboration

※ Word count: 7,759

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

※ Author's Notes: This fic was written in collaboration with @danime25. We worked up the outline together and she kindly took the reins and wrote Holland's POV after our good pal Healy makes a break for it. It was wonderful working with her on this!

Yellow light filters through the windows of Holland’s car. The streetlights have been on for hours now, illuminating the sleepy street just enough to make out the shapes of shrubs and mailboxes. The two detectives inside the car are not concerned with the small details. They are looking out for the comings and goings of a man located in house number 1438. It’s a rather plain ranch style home with new porch railings.

The Nice Guys Detective Agency had been called the day prior by a woman who was concerned that her husband of three years was stepping out on her with another lady. It was the same old story that Holland March had handled his entire career as a PI. He gets a new one about once or twice a month. More over the holidays since the offending partner claims overtime at their place of employment to explain the sudden absences at home. The cases pay well enough, easy work to boot as long as the survailed party stayed none the wiser.

Holland shifts uncomfortably in his seat, drawing Healy’s attention. The bruiser eyes him with a passive curiosity. His back is stiff from being confined in the vehicle for so long, but he knows that his investigation partner must be feeling worse. Instead of breaking Holland’s left arm like he had planned, he had fractured the radius in Holland’s right. As fucked up as it sounds, he hadn’t wanted to risk damaging whatever issue the other man has going under the bandage of his left. The result was that the PI was down to limited functionality in both arms. The left is still full of stitches while the right is weighed down by a palm to elbow length cast. Still, the arm situation does not directly correlate to Holland’s current bout of bizarre behavior in any way that Healy can discern.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, March?” Healy asks, aiming for politeness. He misses by a mile.

“Excuse me? Why the fuck are you looking at me like that for?” Holland retorts with a disgusted tone. 

“Because you’re acting weird.” 

“I’m not acting weird. You’re the one acting weird.” Holland’s voice is shrill, and a bit defensive.

“I’m not the one squirming around like I gotta take a piss.”

“Fine! You really want to know?”

“No, March,” he throws up his hands, “I asked because I don’t want to know.” His tone is sarcastic.

“Well… it’s been a while since you broke my fucking arm .” He flings the affected limb in a sweeping gesture for dramatic effect, narrowly missing Healy. 

“I said I was sorry.”

Holland scoffs and pulls a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket along with his lighter. “Well, your apologies are worth shit to me when I can’t crank one out in the bathroom.”

The look on Healy’s face is incredulous. “Seriously? That’s it, asshole?”

“What the fuck do you mean ‘that’s it’?” He places a cigarette between his lips and lights it, letting it rest loosely in his mouth.

Healy is almost upset enough to snag the cigarette right out of the other man’s mouth. He has no reason to be this bothered by their conversation. His skin feels too warm, the collar of his shirt too tight.

“What the fuck do you want me to do about it? You want me to give you a little handy between partners?”

“Well, for starters, don’t look at my crotch like you enjoy it,” Holland snarls back, using his more functional hand to block Healy’s view. “I just need something to get myself off with.”

A light turns on in the house closest to them. The porch light follows shortly after. Their shouting must have been loud enough to wake the occupant. The last thing they need is the actual police getting called and thrust into their business. 

“Shut up and stop thinking with your dick. We’re on a job,” Jackson responds, irate. 

Turning the key in the ignition, Holland starts the car and floors it. They pelt out of the neighborhood in an obnoxious screech of tires on pavement. If their yelling hadn’t woken the entire block, Holland’s maneuver certainly finished the job. He pulls into an empty lot. The only source of light is the vehicle’s headlights. 

“Real subtle,” he mutters under his breath, still ruffled. 

The other man hits the steering wheel with the palms of both hands. He lets out a gasp at jostling his injured arms unnecessarily. He turns on the man seated beside him once he shakes off the pain. “Great, we’ve lost at least three days on that lead thanks to you.”

“‘Thanks to me’,” Healy repeats, “Do you even hear yourself sometimes?”

He fumbles for the door handle and gets out of the car. He slams the door hard enough to rattle the entire machine. The bruiser needs a moment to cool down or he will do something that they will both regret. He is almost shaking. From what? He doesn’t know exactly.

Holland doesn’t leave well enough alone and exits the car in pursuit of his partner. He stops with the door ajar and his hand on the roof. “Yeah, I do hear myself. I have a pretty voice, thank you very much.”

The shorter man shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and walks further away from the Benz. He forces himself to accept the PI’s words with equanimity. He’s struggling with it. Does the other man ever stop running his mouth? 

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Holland slams the door, shutting his blazer in it without realizing. He tries to set off after him, but comes to an abrupt halt when he gets yanked back by the caught jacket. He struggles out of it, leaving it hanging sadly in the door and gets up in Healy’s face.  

“See that? You just cost me my favorite jacket and for what?”

“Get out of my face, March,” Jack says calmly, too calmly. His tone is a warning of an imminent punch to the face if the detective doesn’t comply. He puts a hand on the other man’s chest, cautioning him. 

“Or what?” Holland sneers, “You gonna kiss me?”

Healy doesn’t say anything, He drops his hand from Holland’s chest and takes a step back, turns partially away. Nausea rolls through his stomach. 

“Hey, hey, Jack, I was just kidding.” Holland sounds a little softer.

He waves a dismissive hand with forced casualness and starts walking back to the car. “Let’s get back to work. Don’t want to waste the time here.” 

The detective purses his lips and follows after him only to stop a few feet away from the vehicle. He has a calculating look on his face. It’s the kind of look Holland gets when he is about to make a decision that is going to make whatever partner of his want to tear their hair out. Healy opens his mouth to ask him what he is about to do right as Holland throws the keys. All he can do is watch in speechless horror as they go sailing into the darkness and clatter noisily somewhere onto the ground. He’s damn near blind during the day with his reading glasses on, much less at night without any aid whatsoever.

“What the fuck , March?” He growls once the initial shock has worn off. 

Holland gestures at him, equally upset. “Enough of this. Just say you want to fuck me or something.”

The nauseous feeling grows more prominent. It feels like his stomach acid is trying to crawl up his throat. Why the hell was his partner doing this? Healy had tried hard to be normal around the other man. He had not let his eyes wander because that was the kind of shit that got your ass beat in an alley. 

“Yeah?” He lets out an unconvincing laugh, “What makes you think I wanna fuck you?”

“I mean, look at you,” the PI scoffs despite having to adjust himself so his erection isn't so obviously tenting the material of his white slacks. 

“Me? You’re the one panting over there like a dog. You can’t control yourself, March.”

That spurns Holland into crowding against him. Healy holds his ground, he’s not going to be bullied around by his partner. The other man leans down to speak, but he misjudges the distance in the dark and his lips brush against Jackson’s mouth. They recoil from each other like gunshots had been fired in their direction.

“I knew you wanted to fuck me,” Holland says, laying the blame for his own error onto Healy. He makes a show of looking him up and down.

Impulsively, he grabs the collar of Holland’s shirt. He twists his broad hand into the expensive fabric and jerks the taller man forward until they’re nose to nose. “I never said anything about wanting to fuck you. Sounds like you’re making excuses to fuck me.”

“As if,” is the response he gets, but Jackson does not miss the considering way March eyes his mouth. The detective adjusts the angle of his head, aligning their mouths, mere millimeters between them.  

At the feeling of Holland’s mustache brushing over his upper lip, Healy makes a small sound. A whine? A moan? He panics, and his fist swings up without his permission and collides solidly with the face of the man coming onto him. His hand slips off the other man’s shirt, and Holland takes a few staggering steps backwards. 

“What the fuck?” March whimpers and looks up at Healy, “The hell was that for?”

Healy refuses to look at him and instead starts fruitlessly scanning the ground. “Shut up and help me look for the keys.”

He hears the other man rub his face with a groan. The bruiser knows his partner has a good chance of sporting a black eye tomorrow. This entire night is turning into a nightmare. He has not felt this unsteady since Joanne had admitted that she was fucking his father. The scuffle of shoes on the ground is the only warning he gets before Holland grabs ahold of him. Before he can protest, the taller man kisses him. It’s an awkward clash of mouths, too much teeth, but Holland is making up for it by sheer enthusiasm. 

Healy stiffens, but then he is grasping desperately onto the PI. He kisses him back like a man lost in the desert who has just been given a glass of water. He chases after the other man when he pulls back for air, capturing his mouth once again. His hand rests heavily on the nape of March’s neck, worked in the short hair. They shouldn’t be doing this. They’re old enough to damn well know better than to do this.

That line of questioning does not stop him from wedging a thigh between Holland’s legs, rubbing it against the taller man’s clothed erection in the process. His partner catches on quickly and chases the friction. Healy wraps a hand around March’s narrow hip, encouraging him further until the detective is all but humping his leg like a dog in heat. They’re panting into each other’s open mouths, eyes closed.

Holland moans out a soft little, “Fuck.”. He sounds almost as though he is begging for more, even as his hands grab desperately at the back of Healy’s jacket. 

“Yeah, you would like that, March,” he mutters against the side of the PI’s neck. He slides the hand cupping the back of Holland’s neck to his front and works at pulling the other man’s shirt free from his pants. Healy almost feels drunk despite turning down his partner’s offered flask more than once during the stakeout. A shiver courses through him when he feels Holland start to return his interest by putting his hand underneath his jacket, not seeking bare skin yet, but the heat of his touch through the tropical patterned shirt is enough to get Jackson to grind his own hard dick against his partner’s hip. 

He feels the wet pressure of Holland’s lips connecting with his cheek and has to swallow. This is more intimate than he had ever dared to imagine in the most repressed corners of his mind. Maybe Holland had bashed him over the head in the car with his cast and this was all some kind of fucked up wet dream. The twitch of the other man’s cock against him feels real enough though. 

“Whaddaya want, huh?” Jack dares to ask.

“I want…” Holland trails off, clearly contemplating, but instead of coming up with a response, he shoves his face against Healy’s shoulder. All traces of his bravado are gone.

“You’re never this quiet, March,” he grumbles. He drags his thick fingers down the detective’s stomach to right above his belt. “If I knew this was all it took to get you to shut up… Look, do you want me to give you a handjob or what?”

“No, I want,” Holland makes a gesture with his hands that suggests he’s cupping a pair of invisible breasts, “you know, that .”

The look Healy gives him is flabbergasted. “March, you… you know I’m not a woman, right?”

“Yeah, I fucking know that.” Holland looks down at where he and Healy are pressed together like a pair of randy teenagers, “I’m not a fucking idiot.” 

Shaking his head, he opens his mouth to say something in response to him, but just shakes his head instead. There’s no use in arguing with him. Healy knows that the other man is a fucking idiot sometimes and that knowledge is enough for him right now. He decides to humor March and strips off his jacket and tosses it onto the ground behind him. He makes short work of the buttons on his shirt and leaves it hanging open to reveal the white wifebeater he wears as an undershirt. Jack fights the instinctive urge to cover himself, knowing that his body is not in as good of shape as his companion’s.

“We’re actually doing this?” Holland asks despite already beginning to work his belt off with the hand not encased in a cast. He’s doing such a poor job of it that it prompts Healy to swat his hand away and undo it for him. 

“Whatever ‘this’ is,” he says with a shrug of his good shoulder. He pulls the detective’s belt free of the loops and tosses it in the vague direction of where he threw his jacket just moments before. They’ll have a considerable scavenger hunt on their hands at the end of this. 

Holland undoes the zipper on his dress pants and unceremoniously pulls his dick out. “Okay, I’ve never done this before.”

Healy watches as March closes his eyes in preparation. For what? He doesn’t have the faintest damn clue. “Why fuck are you closing your eyes. This isn’t jumping off the diving board,” he says incredulously. 

“ Jesus! Just shut up,” Holland snaps back, opening his eyes reproachfully. He puts a hand on Healy’s shoulder and tries to encourage him onto his knees. Jack doesn’t budge. “Just… let me use your chest.”

“For what?” He grumbles. He decides to humor Holland’s cues and lowers himself to the ground. A rock digs uncomfortably into his shin and he mutters a complaint under his breath, shifting his leg into a spot with less gravel. He tries to tune out how hard his dick is in his own pants. The kneeling position has pulled the fabric taut over his crotch, and he has to suppress a groan that’s more arousal than discomfort over this indignity. This is right up near the top of the most asinine things his partner has asked him to do since they met about a month ago. He’s gone along with the other man this far though, and he might as well continue. 

Holland moves to get onto his knees, but he pulls up short of actually doing it. “This isn’t going to work, let’s go to my car,” he says, offering a hand to Healy and helping him to his feet without bothering to tuck his dick back into his pants. 

“You have to be fucking with me,” he protests but follows the taller man back to the car all the same. He hovers awkwardly next to the rear tire on the passenger side. He’s really starting to be on the verge of regretting this. Holland has to be playing some kind of joke on him. His hands hover over the buttons of his open shirt and he’s about to start doing it up when March pats the top of the trunk.

“Come on,” he says encouragingly. The PI sheds his own over-shirt, stripped down to his undone pants and sleeveless undershirt. 

He instantly follows Holland’s lead and lets his own touristy shirt fall from his shoulders and onto the ground. This entire vacant lot is going to look like some type of crime scene by the end of night. He heaves himself onto the trunk, heels briefly making contact with the tire. He’s perched on the edge, tense as though he’s ready to fight. Jack is not given much time to work himself into abandoning this whole ordeal because Holland steps up into his space, forcing a home for himself between his legs. Desperation and arousal is written all over the taller man’s face. Either Holland is a surprisingly good actor or he’s actually not yanking Healy’s chain.

The detective puts his full weight into the kiss. Healy’s breath hitches when March’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip. He feels the other man grin in response to his reaction. It’s all Jackson can do to put a calloused hand on the back of his partner’s neck and hold him close. Holland’s facial hair is surprisingly soft against Healy’s stubbled face.

“Fuck,” Holland says softly and drags his pants over the curve of his ass, down far enough to be able to kick  them off before crawling onto the car. 

The bruiser lays back across the trunk, the metal is cold against his skin, but Holland is blazingly warm against his stomach as he gets into position on top of him. He takes the hem of Healy’s shirt in his hands and encourages it up and over his head to get discarded somewhere on the ground by the driver’s side of the car. Holland shifts so he’s properly straddling him, knees bracketing his sides. The detective’s cock rests in the divot between Healy’s pecs. 

“The fuck you doing, March?” It comes out as a near whisper in the darkness. 

“What I wanted,” Holland says and spits, slicking the space where his dick rests just enough that it glides smoothly on the first few thrusts as he begins to rub himself off using Healy’s chest.

Suddenly, Holland’s comments about using his chest to get off are crystal clear. Taking a deep breath, Healy pushes his elbows against either side of his chest, forming a tighter passage for his partner to fuck against. It was like something he’d seen women do in pornos sometimes. His chest is quickly made slick by the copious amounts of precum leaking from the man on top of him. 

Above him, Holland lets out a broken whine as he chases his release. He’s thrusting against Healy like both their lives depend on it. March’s hands are firmly planted to either side of his shoulders. Jack can’t hold back an answering groan, so uncomfortably hard in his jeans with no relief in sight. His chest hair is going to be a sticky, matted mess. All of this shouldn’t be as appealing as it is. The only thing that could make it better in this moment is if he could just see his partner a little more clearly. He wants to know what Holland’s face looks like when he cums. 

“C’mon, March. You wanted this,” he says, spurring him on. He has a good, if a little blurry, visual of the other man’s upper body with their current position. If he were not occupied with holding his amble chest together for Holland to use, his hands might be tempted to wander. 

In response, Holland whines and picks up the pace, nearly rubbing them both raw as he brings himself to the finish line. Jack swears he catches a glimpse of tears in Holland’s eyes as the man finally orgasms. He releases the pressure against his pecs and catches his partner as he goes limp on top of him. Healy feels like he is getting sprayed down with a hose. The other man’s cum floods in the valley of his chest, pooling at the base of his throat and trickling down either side of his neck. A stray shot or two catches him in the face. He tastes bitter saltiness on his lips when he reflexively licks them. It’s a lot of cum, way too much really.

“Shit,” the PI sighs and gingerly scoots out of his hold, further down his body. His dick twitches and a few stray droplets of cum fall onto Healy’s stomach. His own dick is throbbing in his pants when Holland unintentionally makes contact with his crotch.

Healy continues to lay back across the trunk, slightly dazed as his partner shimmies off the vehicle and pulls his boxers and pants back on. He had just let another man rub himself off on him and he hadn’t hated it. He’d enjoyed it even. Near his feet, Holland zips his trousers up and Jack feels himself tense at the crisp sound. He braces himself for the punchline now that the other man has had his fun and gotten his rocks off. He did not particularly think March would be cruel enough to mock him, but this… he didn’t have a script for this. 

“What do you want?” Holland asks after a moment of awkward silence, cutting right to the chase. 

“Surprise me, March. You’ve been doing a real bang up job of it tonight.” Healy responds, a little hoarse. He doesn’t know what the hell he wants. 

“Okay… uhh… sit up, I guess,” he replies, getting onto his knees. His eyes are level with Healy’s crotch.

He obliges him, ignoring the pop in his back as he does. Holland’s cum slides coldly down his chest before stopping somewhere on his stomach. He’s too struck dumb by arousal to care. The other man is on his knees for him, how could he have any rational thought? This has gone far beyond Healy’s wet dream hypothesis and the handjob only gay porno he’d dared to sneak a look at once.

Encouraged by Holland’s hands on his knees, he spreads his legs further to make room for him to shuffle in between them. He manages a reassuring nod when his partner checks in on him with a raised eyebrow that he can barely make out in the dark as he feels the kneeling man slide his left hand up his thigh to get at the front of his pants. Holland has no trouble with the zipper and button on Healy’s jeans despite the fumbling of his own belt earlier. There’s no underwear to tug out of the way. Jackson can’t be bothered to do any more laundry than strictly necessary. 

“Shit, I thought I was big…” Holland mutters under his breath and puts his mouth over the head of Healy’s cock. 

It was a line straight out of a skin flick, but damn if it didn’t send a hot rush of arousal down Jack’s spine all the same. His head falls back and he lets a guttural noise in response to the way his partner is tonguing along his shaft. Shakily, he puts a hand on his shoulder, gripping firmly. His thumb rubs back and forth against the side of Holland’s neck. He can feel the other man’s throat working as he gives him a blowjob. 

A Holland-esque whine almost bursts from his lips when the detective pulls off of him with a wet sounding pop. “Good?”

“Yeah, yeah, real good,” Healy admits, breathing heavily. “Now, please shut up and y’know…”

“Keep going?” Holland finishes with a smirk that’s blinding even in the dim light, and then his mouth is back to work doing something other than engaging in his usual vices of smoking, drinking, and talking way too fucking much.

He tightens his fingers on March’s shoulder like he’s a dog gripping onto a squeaky toy. As inexperienced as the PI clearly is at this kind of thing, it’s almost more than Healy can handle. He’s torn between shoving the other man away or pulling him closer. It has been so long since he’s gotten off. He hadn’t even wanted to touch himself after his wife admitted to cheating on him with his own father of all people. There had not been a single pair of pretty legs that had gotten his attention until Holland came along. Hell, if he admits it to himself, even his wife hadn’t really done it for him. There had always been an undercurrent of wrongness to the whole situation. He’d chalked it up to the fact that she was cheating on him during their marriage, but upon reflection, he hadn’t exactly been performing in the bedroom before that whole relationship started.

“Fuck,” he groans, fighting to keep from thrusting up into his mouth. He’s close, too close. He’s about to- “Holland… Holland .”

The other man moans around Healy’s cock. He’s doing his best to swallow down what he’s given, but some of it leaks out of his mouth and onto his goatee. They make eye contact as he proceeds to milk Jack dry. He pushes against Holland once the suction becomes too much around his softening dick. The other man lets him slip free and while Healy hastily tucks himself, oversensitive, back into his jeans, he leans against his car.

“That was… good,” Holland offers into the silence between the two of them.

Healy takes a moment to respond, busying himself with zipping up his pants and sliding the button home. The turmoil of feelings that he was experiencing earlier is back in full force. They’d both gotten off but no… there was the aftermath. 

“March…” he starts but peters out. He slides off of the car. He’s all too aware that he’s still shirtless and covered in Holland’s semen. It’s slowly drying into his chest and stomach hair, getting clean in the dark with no water and no spare cloth is a lost cause. 

“Yeah?” The PI responds the moment he realizes Healy isn’t going to add onto the thought. His tone is hopeful, bordering on needy.

“Why…?” He's not sure how to find the words. Hell, what does someone say in this kind of situation?

“Why what?” Holland asks with a touch of tentativeness, as though Healy is going to lay into him. 

“Why’d you… this wasn't some kinda joke was it, March?” He questions, shoving his hands into his pockets and curling inward slightly. What he would give to be fully dressed right now. Not that it would help much, he hasn't felt in control since he and Holland started fighting in the car. He isn’t a feelings kind of guy. That would mean he's weak.

“No!” Holland’s voice peaks and cracks. It settles into a more normal range as he continues. “I don’t know… I don’t know how to explain it. This feels different than the way I felt about my wife.”

Healy mutely nods as the taller man starts feeling himself up for his pack of cigarettes before realizing that they’re still in his jacket pocket. Holland wanders around the other side of the car, out of his field of vision, to go after his suit jacket. 

The new addition to the Nice Guys Detective Agency can agree though. Whatever is going on between them feels different than it had with his own, now ex, wife.  For him, it had felt… right. He absentmindedly follows March around to the other side of the car and picks up his undershirt. He pulls it back over his head, grimacing as his wet chest makes contact with the fabric. The minute he has a chance, he’s jumping in the shower. In the middle of shrugging on his Hawaiian shirt, he hears what sounds like the door of the Benz being opened followed by the rustling of fabric. Incredulous, he turns to stare at the other man. 

“The door was open.” Holland says to him, not looking up from the ground.

He doesn't even have it in him to be mad, just lets out a helpless chuckle. “You have to be fucking joking.”

“No,” he sounds sheepish, “but we still gotta find the keys to get out of here. Unless you’d rather talk about what,” gesturing between the two of them, “ this is first.”

“Let’s find the keys first, then we can talk.” Privately, he wants the option for Holland to just leave his ass here if things go south. He doesn’t want his partner to feel trapped with him.

“Sounds good,”  Holland says, closing the door and slipping his jacket back on. He flashes Healy a wide smile and bounds over to the approximate location of where he had thrown the keys a while earlier.

Healy locates his jacket and pulls it on. It’s dusty from the dry soil of the lot. He squints into the darkness, scanning the ground for the keys. He almost feels like he would be better off getting onto his hands and knees like that chick in the orange turtleneck that was always losing her glasses on the show Holly’s been into, the one with the talking dog.

He moves to stand next to Holland, brushing shoulders with him in a friendly way. “Why did you have to throw the keys?” He finally comments when his straining eyes fail to see a glimmer of metal.

“I don’t know,” he admits flatly. “We had to resolve whatever that tension was between us somehow.”

Jackson frowns, shrugs. He takes a few steps forward away from Holland, kicking at the ground fruitlessly. He doesn’t get rewarded by the sound of pebbles hitting metal. “What kinda tension you talking about?”

“Y’know… Where I was up in your face and you were trying to get out of mine. That tension.”

“Right, yeah,” he grumbles. “Look, March. What are you wanting outta this?” 

“I dunno. Right now it just feels nice when I’m around you.” He shrugs, “You know what I had on my hand when we met? ‘You’ll never be happy’?”

“Yeah? What about it?” Healy tries to not sound choked up over Holland’s words. Where did all these emotions come from? He was an even tempered man, occasionally angry, but this… There was no word of the day for this. 

“When I wake up and see you and Holly on the couch… I’m happy.” Holland shrugs and looks at him.

Healy is silent for a long moment before he speaks, his words slow, measured. “You and the kid… it gives me a reason to get up in the morning. Don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“Jesus.” Holland lets out a sigh, putting a hand over his own chest, “Haven’t been this nervous since I got down on one knee… you know, for Holly’s…” he clears his throat, not finishing the thought.

He teeters on the cusp of saying something sincere, but it’s not the time. He doesn’t want to go down an upsetting path, not tonight. They had enough to think about. “Guess I’ll be the one getting on one knee then,” he jokes. A gleam of metal catches his attention when he shifts in place. Holy shit, it’s the keys. He doesn’t dare move in case he loses sight of them with his crap depth perception. He grabs the air in Holland’s direction with one hand while pointing at the keys with the other. “March! March! Keys! ”

“Yes! Fuck yes!” The detective yelps and dives for the keys. He snatches them off the ground with a flourish and crowds into Healy’s space, heys in hand. He kisses him, an enthusiastic press of his mouth against his. He’s smiling even as he pulls back and a shy look crosses his face. “I mean, thanks.”

Healy can’t help himself and draws the man back in, allowing himself to initiate for the first time tonight. He brushes his mouth gently over Holland’s. He lingers for a moment before breaking away. Perhaps if the spell doesn’t break, he could get used to having this. 

“Let’s… go home.” March rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. They stare at each other until Healy raises his eyebrows at him. “Right! Home,” he says with a nod and hoofs it back to the car. Jack follows and settles himself into the passenger seat. He feels more content than he has in years.

The drive back to Holland’s house is free of any drama. Holland spends the time aimlessly chattering. It relaxes Healy. He’s nearly asleep by the time they pull into the driveway. 

“Huh,” he hears Holland say, and he opens his eyes to see the light of the television flickering from the living room window. 

He gets out of the car with a groan and the two men make their way to the front door. Holland fumbles his house key into the lock. Opening the door reveals Holly and Jessica standing in the living room in front of the tv, clearly surprised at being caught still awake. 

 “Jessica, what are you doing in my house?”

“Sorry Mr. March. My sister’s busy,” she apologizes.

“Yeah, I bet she is.” Holland scoffs. Jack resists the urge to kick him in the back of the leg.

Jessica looks at the men and blurts out. “Oh! Do you go to the same nighttime baking class as my sister?” Holly makes a noise like a stepped on mouse. 

Healy is ready to shrug it off as one of Jessica’s eccentricities and Holly having a hiccup, but a cold knife of cognizance suddenly impales him. He remembers that he and Holland didn’t wipe off their faces. He can feel the mostly dried jizz so clearly on his neck and lower half of his face. Oh fuck.

“What…” Holland starts to say before looking at Healy. His eyes go wide in his own realization. “Yeah. Baking. Baking class.”

“Yeah, cinnamon rolls tonight. The icing is real. Uh… real tricky. Gotta make it from scratch. Gets messy.” Healy manages. Why can’t he shut up? He’s sweating. Holly is staring a hole into his soul. Oh, god, she knows he and her old man were doing the hanky panky like a pair of teenagers while they were supposed to be working. If she looks at them any harder, they are both going to catch on fire and burn into two piles of ash right here in the entryway. 

Making things worse, Holland dips a finger into the mostly dried cum on Healy and brings it up to his mouth, sucking on the finger. “Wow. Um, really good icing.” 

“March, what the fuck are you doing?” Healy questions as nicely as he can manage given the circumstances. Holly makes a retching sound. Jessica as always is oblivious to anything going on around her. 

“Just… getting the last bit off you,” the man says with a shrug. Healy watches in fascinated horror as a bead of sweat rolls down his partner’s face. He can see his own release dried into Holland’s goatee. This is too much. 

“Well, uh. I’m going to use your shower. If you will please excuse me,” Jackson says politely, too politely, and tries to pretend he isn’t fleeing the scene of a crime. He leaves Holland to deal with the fallout and ducks into the master bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror. What a mess. His undershirt is ruined, but he should have enough clothes to get back to his own apartment after this. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

“Well then, let’s get you home Jessica.” Holland clasps his hands together and keeps his lips pressed tight to one another to avoid the awkward smile that was creeping across his face. He feels the cold, sharp daggers that his daughter’s eyes are shooting at him and he turns around to pull his coat back off the hanger. Holland is looking for any excuse to avoid the lecture that he knows Holly has in store for him when he gets back. Unfortunately for him, Jessica has one of the first rational thoughts in her life. She digs her heels a bit into the shag carpet as Holland attempts to push her out the door and says,

“Wait, Mr. March. I live just across the street, remember? I can just walk home.”

Holland’s eyes go blank. He didn’t remember, honestly. “Right. That’s right,” he repeats to himself mostly

“Anyway, bye Holly. I’ll see you at school!” Jessica walks out of the house like she’s a member of the Brady Bunch. That’s the show Jessica liked, right? He shakes his head. It doesn't matter now. What matters is how the hell Holland is going to get out of the scolding that Holly has at the ready for him. He puts the poor coat back onto the hook before slowly turning around to face his daughter. What could he say? She already looks more disappointed in him than the first time she had to drive and pick him up from the bar. 

“Hi, honey.” He waves slowly at her, hoping to diffuse some of the tension in the air. This does not work. While he was trying to skirt on out of his own house, Holly had stood up from the couch and crossed her arms in front of her.

“Did you and Mister Healy have… sex and stuff?” She gets right to the point

“Don’t say ‘and stuff’...” Holland starts on his usual spiel. He zips his lips back up when he can see the look in Holly’s eyes getting even more venomous.

“Were you and Mister Healy having sex and stuff ?” She doubles down, making sure to punctuate every word as she repeats her question. She is not about to let her father out of this.

“Fine, we were… having sex.” Holland rubs the back of his neck as he says this. He looked like a teenager caught having a house party while his parents were out of town. Holly rolls her eyes at him and sighs, the gesture laced with disapproval for her dad’s carelessness. She sits back down on the couch before looking back at him and telling him,

“At least clean him up next time, Dad.”

“Fine. I will.” Holland huffs a little bit. His chest puffs up defensively before asking, “Why do you care?”

“Parents should treat each other with respect,” she shrugs. “Also maybe you don’t need to soil the eyes of your teenage daughter by bringing him back looking like that.”

“Okay, fine. You’re right.” He looks away. Up, down, anywhere that wasn’t the direct gaze of his daughter’s judging eyes. He begins doubling down on himself, “I just thought you’d be in bed.”

“Whatever. Just go check on him.” She settles in and watches the tv. She’s going to push her bedtime because her dad is the bigger problem right now. He had no room to judge when his own house wasn’t in order.

“Fine.” He walks to the bathroom with his tail tucked between his legs. He holds his ear up to the door for a second before knocking on the wood. “Hey, Healy?”

“Yeah?” Healy calls back over the sound of the water. He had barely set foot in the shower. It had taken him an age to peel himself out of his undershirt, his hair sticking uncomfortably to the cloth. How the hell did Holland cum so much? The other issue at hand was trying to figure out how to use the shower. After a couple of false starts, he managed to switch the water to the shower handle instead of the bath faucet.

“You mind if I come in?” Holland asks, his voice soft again. He doesn’t want to intrude on the other man if he isn’t welcome, but he wouldn’t be upset if he got a full look at Healy. With Healy’s permission, of course.

The other man hesitates for a moment but decides that it’s fine. He replies with a quick, “It’s your bathroom, March.”

“Yeah, but…” Holland lets out a quick sigh before he opens the door and walks in. He manages to undress himself quickly and glances over at the mirror. He uses his hand to run over his facial hair and mentally mark down where he needs to clean himself up. That was a problem for another day, however. He tugs gently on the shower curtain before asking, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” The bruiser moves to the side to make room for the lankier man. It’s become second nature for Healy. As of late, his entire life has somehow molded around being a part of Holly and Holland’s little family. Not that he’d complain about the recent lack of loneliness.

“Hey.” Holland grins. It’s a quirky little half smile where his lips are almost hidden but there’s just enough there for Healy to see just how happy Holland is. He almost looks like a golden retriever. That’s before he asks the other man, “Can I… kiss you again?” He closes his eyes firmly, fully expecting a ‘no’ or ‘that’s too much’ from Healy, but Healy seems to have no problem with this. He leans in, taking the dive yet again. He pulls Holland into his arms by his waist. He kisses the other man in a way his probably shaky voice could never begin to explain. After they break their contact Holland just kind of laughs, “I was just gonna do this…” he explains. His lips meet with the crown of Healy’s head. His arms work their way around his kind of boyfriend and rests his chin atop the other man’s head. They stay still in the water like this for a moment together. It was oddly intimate, even though a mere hour ago the blond was using the other man’s chest to get himself off. Healy lets a soft pleased moan slip from his lips while Holland cleans off his mess from Healy’s chest. He reaches up and gets some shampoo lathered in between his fingers. His fingers work their way through the blond’s hair. This is a moment of intimacy Healy hadn’t had with someone outside of sex before.

A couple minutes later, after the two were clean, Holland reaches behind Healy’s back and switches the water off. He carefully pulls the shower curtain to one side and reaches for a towel, offering it to Healy. He steps out of the tub and starts to rummage through his bathroom closet. It shouldn’t be this hard to find a damn towel. After he finds one he starts drying himself off and looks over at Healy, who offers him a quick, “Thanks” in return for the shower. Jackson picks up his pile of clothes and forces himself back into his jeans. At this point, he’s sure that Holland’s sick of him and is just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Before that can happen Holland interrupts his thoughts.

“You wanna… sleep in my bed?” Holland asks, again expecting that it’s at this point Healy’s gone along for the ride for too long, and he’ll finally want to stop. He offers further, “Or if you don’t, you can sleep on the couch. Just kick Holly out and back to her room. She should be asleep anyway.” His sentence continues to trail as he fills in the silence that had settled between the two of them. Healy sighs and runs the palm of his hand across his face before saying,

“I didn’t know staying was an option.” His words are soft, and a bit hesitant. “Where do you want me?”

“I…” Holland starts to stutter. He takes a breath to calm himself down before finally saying, “Honestly? I want you in my bed.” He scoffs to himself. If he hadn’t done it before, Healy was sure to get off now. It was really an outlandish thing for Holland to ask of the other man.

“Okay. Okay, yeah, I can do that. Forgot to bring my pajamas though. Wasn’t expecting a sleepover,’ He jokes, using this opportunity to zip up his jeans.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Holland rubs his eyes as he starts getting tired. He walks over to his dresser and scans through his clothes for something to wear. He settles on an undershirt that’s clean enough for Holland’s standards and a fresh pair of boxers. He lies down and sprawls across his bed before making room for the other half of Nice Guys Agency to lie besides him. 

Healy uses the blanket on the bed to cover himself up a little, but lets his hands rest on top of his still bare stomach. He’s trying his best not to break some unspoken boundary between the two but he can’t help but feel tempted when he sees the way Holland takes up the space on his bed. Holland’s no better than him, not with him sliding a cautious arm around the other man's back. He lets that hand lean against Healy’s side, fingers running through the other man’s body hair ever so slightly. Healy seems to notice this discrepancy and looks down at Holland’s arm.

“Thought your left hand was too fucked up to stroke anything, March.”

“I… yeah it is.” Holland slides his hand back, doing his best to pretend that it was still screwed up. His face was bright red, not that anyone would be able to tell. He didn’t want to admit it, Healy hadn’t really caught him, had he?

Without a thought, Healy catches Holland’s arm before it gets too far away. He moves it back to its previous spot. “If you wanted attention, you could have just said something. Woulda saved us some trouble.”

“And say what?” Holland snarks back at him, “ ‘Hey, Healy, give me a handy will ya?’ No thanks.” Jack shakes with a silent laugh.

“I did offer you one, y’know. In the car.”

“Yeah. I know.” He rolls his eyes, “I was probably thinking more with my schwantz than I want to admit.”

[crossover-enthusiast]

Been looking through your OCs and...you have a werewolf dude??? Do you have a ref for him? :D

First off, sorry for the really late response!!

Second, yeyeye!! He's called Blondie :]

I don't have any "proper" model sheet type of thing for him, but people have drawn him before and I usually give those when people ask for reference, soooo

In order: @inkandpaintleopard, @that-weird-mime, and @ultimateevader!

I also made a cringe gacha thing one time just to get his colors down

And now you get to hear me ramble about Blondie facts because I like my silly guy

Out of all of them Ink's take on Blondie is the most accurate: his hair and beard are meant to evoke a pinecone, and his base expression is that sort of blank stare!

In general his expressions are very reserved unless for comedic effect or during bouts of extreme emotion

"Blondie" is not his actual name; it is a nickname given to him by the townsfolk. He's sort of the neighborhood cryptid, hah

In terms of height he's between Jack and Frank, definitely the tallest of my OCs

He lives in the woods as a sort of scavenger. Sometimes he sneaks into town to steal food/new clothes

Because of him living in the woods his clothes are constantly tattered and scratched, not helped by his transformations, so even something new gets wrecked soon enough -- the only clothes he's kept in kind of okay order is his jacket. He likes wearing it

Blondie does Not like people and prefers to stay away from them when he can, for their safety and his own. The only people he's had any sort of meaningful interaction with are:

John and Jack, who keep trying to arrest him for all the theft

Skid and Pump, who found him in the woods one time and keep visiting him (he does not know Why)

And Rick, if only because he's worked at a lot of the places Blondie's taken food from. Blondie is usually the reason Rick gets fired from those places, actually-

I'll cut it here because you just wanted a reference ksdjnfkjsdns, but if you would like to know more about him, please ask!! He's the second favorite of my OCs next to Margo, I like this goober a lot

[owmylasagna-blog]

5 for eene obv, 7 for ed and may, 12, 23, and then 25 for eddy!

Thanks for the ask!

5. Out of all your EENE fanworks, which is your favourite?

It’s weird I feel like I’ve had two distinct eras of eene fandom, you know? But I’d probably have to go with my magnum opus like me still. It’s been one of the most ambitious and challenging creative projects I’ve ever attempted for the show, and it’s honestly connected me with so many more amazing fans 🥰

7. Is there a piece of clothing you think ED/MAY is particularly fond of/that you imagine them wearing a lot or like to draw them in?

I’d love to figure out a way for Ed to repurpose his green jacket when he inevitably grows out of it. Maybe he makes a bunch of patches from it that he sticks on other stuff. I also had this idea for my adult AU where he only owns one pair of shoes and they are the most tattered blundstones you’ve ever seen. Idk I associate Ed with art handler fashion and memes (sorry this is probably a ridiculous niche thing).

May is a tricky one! I’m not sure I’ve nailed down her aesthetic 100% yet. Some mix of cottage-witch and millennial that was once an emo/scene kid but hasn’t really grown out of it. I think May really likes lounge clothes - massively oversized sweatpants she had to cut cropped because they dragged, worn in t-shirt she cant let go of even if it’s getting holes, fuzzy socks. I just think it’s cute.

12. What's the funniest or craziest AU idea you've ever come up with?

I’ve definitely thought of some stupid shit, mostly through absurd crossovers. This would have been over 10 years ago now but I’d whipped up a RuPaul’s Drag Race AU where they were all contestants (in this version it was inclusive of all drag, not just queens). I truly hope nobody finds this thing lol.

23. Has your favourite character/ship changed over time?

I just genuinely love the three eds equally. I have an extra soft spot for Ed and always have. And eddeddy has been THE otp for over a decade. No change there.

25. What's your least favourite thing EDDY said or did?

I usually support Eddy’s many wrongs but I guess I was disappointed in how unsympathetic he was to Ed in Little Ed Blue. Like that’s your best bud, you’re not a little worried? Don’t get me wrong, it’s extremely in character and says a lot about his (and even Edd’s) upbringing and overall the episode is fucking hilarious “look at me, I’m a chicken. How bout I lay an egg?” I love this little jerk. I’m sure there are objectively worse things but that’s the first one that came to mind.

[zeroth-writes]

One Person -Juan Rainer-

masterlist | request

Pairing: Juan Rainer / Fem!Reader

Summary: As they sit in the fish eye, Lawan tells Aiden a little story of how the big bad playboy Juan turned into a softie, for only one person.

Word Count: 496

A/N: Hello! I'm sorry if this is all over the place, i wrote half of this MONTHS ago and just finally started to get back into writing.

"You wanna know why he's stuck by her"?

Lawan pointed the neck of her beer bottle toward the couple at the bar before taking a short swig of the luke warm liquid. Aiden raised his eyebrows before chuckling. His gaze followed to couple before studying them.

The man was turned sideways, but when at back view he could still tell it was Juan. The jacket alone was a dead giveaway but you add in the hair and way to expensive bottle of old time liquor.

The women however, as her back was facing him had zero incline as to who she is.

"I know I'm still new the area, but even I know what he's after." Lawan shared the laugh. "Fair point, but she's different."

The sniper finished off her beverage before turning fully towards the bar, motioning the pilgrim to do the same.

"See how she's not even looking towards Juan as he talks to her? She's completely ignoring him, yet the guy's still wasting his breath on her. Which is weird for a guy like him. Normally he'd move on to someone else, try again another night."

The pilgrim took a few moments to look at the pair. Not once did Juan look around, even as a pretty girl passed right by him, his eyes never leave the women in front of him.

"So what makes her so special" The female chuckled at his question.

"She doesn't want him." Aiden's eyes narrowed before Lawan continued. "From the moment he first tried flirting with her, She wanted nothing to do with him. Didn't even make an excused - and i was there when she shut him down. If you ask him he'd say that she's just 'playing hard to get. She'll come around' "

The pilgrim's attention is fully towards the sniper as she talks. His face churning with each word the falls past her lips.

"That still doesn't answer my question." Lawan scoffed "Because you didn't let me finish. Juan is used to getting whatever he wants. Women, clothes, cigars, paintings, men. Except her. Sure this has happened a few times, someone isn't interested in him and he moves to someone else."

Lawan's finger moves to pair at each member of the pairing before returning towards the table "This has been going on for months now. And the reason he hasn't given up. He loves her."

Aiden nearly spills his full bottle of beer. " I didn't think he was capable of loving another human." Though is was just a mutter, the insult hit Lawan's ears, causing the women to bout out a laugh.

They turned they attention back to Juan and his 'partner' only to see her getting up to leave and Juan staring slack jawed.

Aiden was about to make a smartass comment, but before his lips could part, Juan had slapped a stack of cash on the counter before jogging after her while yelling something.

"Maybe one day prince charming with get the princess"

[ferrocyan]

ffxiv write day 15 (free day so let's pick back up from here)

"hold... a moment, please."

yaana looks back behind her shoulder. tart has been following her after she said they should go back to her gym. though now he's fallen behind, putting a hand up for her to wait.

at this hour, even the recreation zone is deserted. the two of them stop by a wall for a break. tart braces on his knees, panting lightly with his head down. yaana leans away and crosses her arms. she thinks back on how the bout with brute bomber had ended just yesterday, tart breathing raggedly like now, but flushed red with heat and roaring with victory. it's... hard to see him so pale and withdrawn right now. because of your sister. yaana winces.

she turns to look at tart. "you okay?" he nods. "no you're not. 'and whose fault is that,' yeah, yeah, i know," she deflects. glancing back at the ascension arcadia, she sighs. "i'm sorry, i should explain. we contestants do get medical care for injuries during performances. but management doesn't like giving more than they have to, so if you're cleared by the physician you really should just leave and recover on your own."

tart shoots her a worried look, so yaana waves his concern off. "no, we don't get a pay cut! the prize money's secure, 'cause messing with that's against the law. but we're supposed to get free souls as a bonus, yeah? staying in medical too long might cost you all of them.

"so... that's why i dragged you out." explaining herself only makes it clear to yaana that tart never asked her to do that in the first place. she fidgets with her jacket sleeves. "i just thought that'd be important to you, you know--since you're called souleater and all... sorry, am i overstepping?"

"no. 's thoughtful of you, thanks." he narrows his eyes at her.

"is that--are you trying to smile?"

tart sighs, "let's go." yaana takes the lead, and he follows more easily this time. about a block from tritails, tart calls out to her. "i don't eat people's souls, though?"

"huh? oh, yeah i guess not," yaana replies, "you didn't even kill any of us in your matches, right? i thought that was weird."

"what? was i supposed to?"

they arrive at her home. yaana toes her boots off by the door, says "no, not really, i think? you don't have to, but you can. it deters some cowards from participating in another match, too. like, my sister did one time--"

her words die in her throat. yaana stands frozen by the doorway, just as neyuni notices her and shouts her name. right by her side stands eutrope.

she notices tart behind yaana and growls, "--you."

[aikofanfan]

Obey me, Themis! [Part 3]

Summary: Things get more intense as more information rises to the surface.

Warnings: Tot Luke gets his shit rock by a demon I’m so sorry my boy.

A/n: Hey part 3 finally! Aside from Shay the rest are random OCs I made up for this story hope ya like em!

Tags: @noetophat how bout I just tag you myself :3

“Who’s Meph….um….istop….heles?” Rosa asks slowly as Diavolo was talking on his DDD.

“A pain in the neck.” You huff. “He’s a school reporter at RAD. I doubt he’ll tell us much willingly. Leave questioning him to me.”

“MC.” Lucifer says in a warning tone.

“I’ll behave!” You retort. Even Rosa and Artem gave you a doubtful look. You’ve barely been around Artem and he was doubting you already! Rude!

“MC are you sure?” Rosa asks.

“Absolutely.” You give her a thumbs up. Dia walks back over at that very moment.

“He should be here soon.” The prince informs. “MC, I heard you’ll be questioning him.”

“Yep- ARE YOU DOUBTING ME TOO?” You gawk at the Prince who only gives a sheepish smile. You cross your arms and pout as Dia doubles down but tries to reason his doubts. Just then Barbatos walks over with the demon of the hour.

“Lord Diavolo what is it you need from me? Oh Lucifer is here yet you called me? I’m honored!” Mephistopheles bows once he’s close to the Prince. Clearly ignoring you and the two attorneys.

“Mephis I actually asked him to call you here.” You spoke up, the purple head turned to you.

“Oh? And do you want?” He asks. You pulled up a picture of the plant Rosa sent you prior and show him.

“What do you know about this? Dia says you heard about some students passing it around at RAD.” You explain. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at you.

“So what if I did?” He retorts. “It’s a plant found here, what’s a human like you need it for?” He scoffs.

“That plant somehow ended up in the human world and it’s already harmed or killed many people.” Rosa spoke up, getting irritated with this guy.

“Ah no wonder you two look so out of place. More humans.” Mephistopheles walked up to Artem and Rosa. “Well that’s too bad.”

“Mephistopheles this is serious.” You grab his forearm and yank him back over. “Whatever you might know will be a huge help.”

“Whatever is happening in the human world isn’t my problem.” He snaps, smacking your hand away. Just when you’re about to pop a vein, Diavolo spoke up.

“It is your problem. It’s all of our problem. That plant came from the Devildom, and whatever damage it causes is on our hands.” The Prince says. “So please. Whatever you might know, tell them.”

Demon and human alike knew that was more of an order rather than a request. Mephistopheles grumbles before turning back to you.

“I don’t know much. But I do know some students were passing it around the school and I happen to over hear one of them say something about ‘getting it to the human world’ or something to that effect. I didn’t think much of it but.” He trails off and glances at the two lawyers.

“Who were these students?” Rosa asks.

The demon took a moment to think before giving some names. “Zek and Crow.”

“Ah those guys.” You groan.

“You know them?” Artem asks.

“Yeah. They use to bug me and my mentor about making pacts with them just so they could have easy access to the human world.” You explain. “But wait, we never made pacts with any of them.”

You turn to Rosa and Artem. “I’d contact the rest of your group if I were you. We need to head back.”

~~~~~

Luke sneaks around an old shack, shoved in a small corner of the city. It’s one of the few places they could find that had held some sort of stash of these weird plants. But it seems it’s been cleared out already.

“There has to be something in here.” He whispers to himself. He moves boxes and old gardening tools around, before finding a small filing cabinet hidden away. Just as he was about to try and open it, something from behind grabs the back of his jacket and throws him away. He hits the wall with a loud SMACK.

“So you’re the one that’s been sneakin around.” A man about his height and looked about his age says, hands in pockets with a smaller framed woman behind him. “Nosy little bugs aren’t ya?”

Luke was about to get up but the man was faster and slams his foot on his back, making him grunt in pain. What was this guy?

“Hey you said you wouldn’t hurt him too bad!” The woman spoke up.

“I won’t I won’t. Just enough to get my point across.” The guy says, smushing the heel of his foot into Luke’s back some more. “Grab that filing cabinet though would ya?”

The woman nods and hurried off into the corner where Luke had found it. Luke tried to get up but was promptly pushed back down by the guy’s foot.

“Be a good human and tell me somethin. How did you find this place?” He asks.

“I have my ways.” Luke said and that result in the guy raising his foot and slamming it hard into his back, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

“I got the flies. Let’s go and leave him alone.” The woman came rushing back and tried to pull the guy off but he shooed her away.

“Not until he talks first. I wanna know how this guy learned about my gig here.” The man says and was about to kick Luke in the ribs until there was noise outside.

One bang on the door.

Two bangs on the door.

Three-CRASH!

“LUKE YOU IN HERE?”

“MC OVER HERE!”

Footsteps came rushing over.

“YOU!”

Green eyes met indigo eyes and you grit your teeth.

“Ah now I see.” Zek, one of the demons that use to bug you and Solomon, gave you a lazy smile. You looked down and found Luke on the ground, Zek’s foot digging into his back.

“Get off of him. NOW.” You order. Zek, ever the shit, just steps off before kicking Luke to the side like an empty soda can. You rush over to his side and that gave Zek and the lady with him enough time to vanish into thin air.

“Friend of yours?” Luke tried to joke through his obvious pain.

“Hardly. How was your first encounter with a demon?” You asked and that cut through the pain judging by the face he makes. You used a bit of healing magic to help Luke to his feet but a hospital visit was still needed. You pick Luke up piggyback style and take him to the car where Artem and Rosa was waiting.

“LUKE!” Rosa gasps as she rushes over, Artem not too far behind.

“I’m fine.” He smiled but was clearly still in pain. Fighting a demon never ended well even if they held back a bit.

“Our suspicions were right. Zek and probably Crow made a pact with humans in the city and brought that plant here.” You explain. With Artem’s help, you both get Luke into the back of the car while Rosa used your DDD to text Diavolo and Lucifer.

“He said something about a gig. This is probably more than just that.” Luke huffs and you lightly poke his forehead.

“We can talk it over once you get checked out.” You state. “I’ll stay behind and give this little box of a shack another look over.”

“But these guys know we’re onto them now.” Rosa says, handing you back your DDD. “Plus what about Marius and Vyn?”

“Relax, Rosy. I’ll be fine and meet up with you guys later. As for the other two, I called a friend or two.”

A friend or two was Shay and Solomon. It was only natural Solomon gets involved and Shay well, she had become a close demon friend outside of the boys and you trusted her with this. Just as you thought that your DDD rings.

“Hello?”

“Hey sugar!”

Speak of the devil, literally. It was Shay. You watch Artem and Rosa drive off to get Luke checked out while you walk around the old shack.

“Hey Shay. How are things on your end?” You asks, having your DDD on speaker and float with magic as you move stuff around.

“Boring so far. By the sounds of it not much else has been found and it looks like no one has a clue that there’s more of us onto their little scheme.” She explains. “How about you?”

“Luke found a shack but got attacked by Zek.” You report.

“That damn Zek! Your friend okay?” Shay asks.

“Yeah we got to him in time. Artem and Rosa are taking him to the hospital now.” You tell her. “Any word from Solomon and Vyn?”

“No. I think those two get along a little too well if you ask me. It’s creepy.” She shivers as she spoke. The two of you talk as you keep looking around the shack, after about 30 minutes you sigh.

“I figured there was nothing left but I’m no less disappointed.” You huff.

“No luck huh?” Shay asks as you take a hold of your DDD and turn off the speaker.

“Nope. I’m gonna go meet up with Rosa. And thanks again for helping out, Shay.” You say.

“No worries, hun! Stay safe now!”

~~~~~~

“Now that they’re onto to us, they’ve no doubt cleared out their other hiding spots.” Rosa mumbled to herself as she looks over what Luke, Marius and Vyn dug up while she and Artem was gone.

“I must’ve gotten there right when he did.” Luke comments from his hospital bed. He wasn’t badly hurt after he was healed with magic but the Doctor wanted him to rest there for the night just to be safe.

“Do we know anything about the woman that was with this Zek?” Artem asks. Luke shakes his head.

“Well once MC comes back, I think we can get an idea on where to look.” Rosa says. You had just walked into the room when she spoke.

“What about lil ol me??” You bat your eyes as you walk over to the three. They catch you up to speed and all you can do is scowl.

“I can unfortunately give you an idea on where to start looking. RAD has a whole class on how demons can lure humans into a pact with them. Since Zek and Crow are RAD students it probably wasn’t hard to find targets for whatever the hell they’re planning.” You explain, arms crossed as you began to think. Although after this they might end up as ex students.

“Or we can just tell you now.”

You turn around and look at the door, finding Solomon and Vyn walking in.

“Shay called me and filled us in, told me you’d all be here.” Solomon says. Vyn types at his phone before all of your phones chime.

“Luke, does this woman look like the one you saw?” Vyn asks. Luke looks over the picture he was sent for awhile before he nods. “She’s a patient of mine.”

“And the plot thickens.” You hum and lean against the wall.

“Her name is Maya Row, she came to see me just to talk and find the root of her problems. She suddenly stopped a few months ago.” Vyn explained. “I tried to call her a few times but she never answered.”

“Sounds like we found out why she stopped seeing you.” You comment. “A patient for a Psychiatrist definitely sounds like it fits the bill for a pact by a demon’s standards.

“Given she wasn’t in the best place of a mind the last time I spoke with her I’d have to agree.” Vyn sighs.

“Poor Maya…” Rosa frowned as she reads over the flies Vyn sent everyone.

“We find her we can find Zek.” You spoke up. Solomon holds his hand up to you, his way of saying to back down.

“While that’s true there’s still Crow and whoever he may have lured into a pact.” He points out. Ah right.

~~~~~

“So Zek and his human Maya huh?” Marius hummed as he reads over what Shay sent him. He was stuck in meetings most the day so Shay filled him in.

“We still don’t know where Crow is or who he may have made a pact with.” Shay says. “So get used to having me around.

“Oh how will I ever cope?” Marius teased and Shay sticks her tongue out at him. Just then she jolts before grabbing Marius and jumping to the left, a stop sign landing where they were, crushing into the sidewalk.

“Ah did you really have to go and dodge that, Shay?” A voice spoke up. Shay looks and finds a man yanking the stop sign out of the ground and looks over at her and Marius. Yellow and black mixed eyes stare into her own icy blue ones.

“Crow.” She hisses and helps Marius up. Crow spins the stop sign around a few times, eyes never moving off the pair.

“You know Shay it’s not too late for you leave and let me have a little chat with the human here.” Crow suggests only for his fellow demon to flip him off.

“You know as well as I do what you’re doing goes against what Lord Diavolo wants for the Realms, Crow.” Shay retorts, glancing at Marius who was hiding his phone in his hand. Gotta by him some time to inform the others.

“Blah blah blah. Get off your soap box, Shay. I don’t care.” Crow groans, stepping closer which made Shay move Marius closer behind her. “Why are you even protecting him? You made a pact or somethin?”

“No. Is it so wrong of me to want to keep him away from you and your stop sign?” Shay sassed at him. Marius hits send on his phone and hides it away in his pocket.

“If he starts a fight, I want you to run, understand? A human like you isn’t gonna put up a fight very long.” Shay whispers, still shielding Marius from Crow who hasn’t stopped eyeing him.

“Got it. You don’t have to worry about me.” Marius nods.

You were talking when all the phones of the NXX group chimed at the same time. Rosa was the first one to get her phone out and check.

“Uh oh!” She gasps and goes pale. All she does is show her screen to everyone.

[regina-cordium]

trick....or treat...

First of all, the most important thing:

some candy to enjoy while reading.

This got a lot longer than it has any right to be. Whoops.

Spot wants it on the record that he was forced to be here.

Ever since returning to New York for his grad degree, Jack has been hell bent on him “getting the Boston out of his system,” or something dumb like that. Spot doesn’t get how a Halloween party in Jack and Charlie’s shoebox apartment counts towards that goal, but whatever. He’s mostly here because Charlie and Ma asked, and also Katherine pointed out it’d be hilarious to watch Jack trip over himself all night trying to impress Davey.

And the free booze. The free booze is vital.

So now he’s leaning up against the wall nursing a lukewarm beer and trying not to get crushed by what feels like the entirety of Manhattan crammed into such a small apartment. How the hell Jack even knows so many people, Spot will never know. What he does know is that he’s starting to get uncomfortable and hungry, and is probably five minutes away from snapping at someone for, like, existing.

“Three o’clock – Jack is about to eat shit,” a voice suddenly says from beside him. Spot does not jump, thank you very much, but he does lift his head in time to watch Jack trip over his own stupid cowboy hat; Davey is rushing forward to help Jack up, but is definitely also laughing at him.

“You always know what to get me,” Spot says, turning to Mack with a grin. She’s dressed as a baseball player, arms hooked around a bat she’s got across her shoulders. She’s also giving him an unimpressed lookover, rude.

“What are you even supposed to be?” she asks, brows raised.

“I’m a lumberjack.” Jack said he wouldn’t let Spot through the door if he wasn’t wearing a costume, so Spot just threw on the closest he could get to the Bounty paper towel dude.

“You wore that exact outfit to Stray’s birthday two weeks ago,” Mack points out, still deeply unimpressed.

Spot opens his mouth to make a sarcastic comment, but he’s drowned out by the sound of cheers and Jack going, “There he fucking is!”

He and Mack both look over to where Jack’s got his arms around someone Spot thinks he recognizes. The guy is wearing a red leather jacket covered in patches, black leather pants, sunglasses that look like they’re shaped like flames, and has red and yellow hair. There’s something written on his face, but he’s swallowed by a group hug before Spot can make it out.

“Who the fuck is that?” he asks.

“Hard to tell, but I think that was Dominic.”

Spot frowns. “Why do I know that name?”

“He’s been attached to Lucky’s hip since undergrad,” Mack explains, swinging her bat down to lean on. “They’re in the same math program or whatever. I think he was Jack’s roommate too? I dunno.”

“I thought he was blond?”

Mack raises an eyebrow, which Spot ignores. “It’s Halloween, dude. He probably dyed his hair. If you’re so curious, why don’t you go talk to him instead of haunting the corner.”

“I’m not haunting –” He breaks off as Mack plants a hand between his shoulder blades and shoves him, hurling him into someone. Spot turns to flip her off; Mack just blows him a kiss, because she’s an asshole.

“You good?” a voice asks.

Spot turns back to the person he knocked into, intending to apologize, but he stops when he realizes the person is Dominic. Spot sends another dirty look over his shoulder at Mack, but she’s gone.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry ‘bout that, my friend is a dick.”

Up close, Spot can see that Dominic has the number 9 on one cheek and 5 on the other, his glasses are, in fact, shaped like flames, and his blond roots are obvious under the red.

Dominic, for his part, looks extremely amused. “Hey, you’re Jack’s brother, right?”

“Spot,” he introduces, holding out a hand.

“Nice to meet’cha. I’m Dominic, but everyone calls me Racetrack.”

Spot is not distracted by his brother’s old roommate’s hands, because that would be weird and also fucking cliche.

Pulling himself together, because only one Larkin kid gets to be a disaster about hot boys and Jack has that shit on lockdown, Spot says, “Weird fucking nickname.”

Instead of being offended, like most people are when Spot speaks, Racetrack just throws his head back and laughs (Spot is not distracted by the long column of his throat.) “What, weirder than Spot?” he asks.

Spot can’t exactly argue with that, so he quickly changes track. “What’re you supposed to be, anyway? Ain’t you hot in all that leather?”

“I’m hot out of the leather, too,” Racetrack says with a smirk, causing Spot to choke on the sip of beer he’d just taken. Racetrack laughs again as he unhelpfully pats Spot on the back. “I think you’re supposed to drink that, not inhale it.”

“Fuck you,” Spot wheezes.

Racetrack seems to finally take pity, because he finally answers Spot’s question. “I’m Lightning McQueen!”

Spot stares at him for a moment. Racetrack grins back.

“Like. From that Disney movie?” Spot finally asks.

“First of all, it’s a Pixar movie, and don’t let Jack hear you get the two confused,” Racetrack corrects. “Second, yes.”

“What the fuck?”

“Dude, my name’s Racetrack. I had to.”

“You absolutely didn’t.”

Racetrack sighs dramatically (Spot gets the feeling he does everything dramatically).

“You sound like Albert,” he pouts and goddamn it, Spot can’t even pretend he doesn’t find it absolutely adorable. Fucker.

“I’d be offended by the comparison,” Spot says, thinking about all the dumb shit Albert got up to in high school, “but for once in my life, I agree with him.”

“Well, you’re not even wearing a costume, so I win by default.”

Spot can’t help but snort. “That’s not how that works, first of all. Second, I am. I’m a lumberjack.”

“You look like you belong at some hipster bar that’s got overpriced drinks and too much wood paneling.”

“Okay, now I’m offended,” Spot says, but there’s a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. Racetrack seems to notice it, because his own grows.

“You wanna get something to eat?” Racetrack asks suddenly. Spot’s glad he’s finished his beer, because we would’ve definitely choked again.

Instead, he raises an eyebrow and says, “You mean ditch my brother’s party to hang out with someone I don’t even know?”

Racetrack rolls his eyes. “You’re not even enjoying yourself.”

“Fuck off, maybe I’m having the goddamn time of my life,” Spot argues, just to argue.

“You’re not.” It’s so matter of fact that Spot is taken aback. “‘Sides, Jack never gets enough food for these things and you were here before me, so if I’m hungry then you are too.”

Spot had actually forgotten he was even hungry, but now that it’s been brought up he’s suddenly fucking starving.

“Fine,” he finally relents, unable to stop his smile when Racetrack pumps his fists. “But only because I’m fucking starving. You just happened to be the first person to say anything.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Spotty!” Racetrack laughs as he leads them through the crowd. “You up for Chinese?”

[that1fangirrl]

Angel-Chapter 3

“I really don’t see why we had to hire an intern. We’re perfectly fine with just the three of us” Karen spoke, taking her jacket off at the front door of the office. “Yeah, but with you going out to help with The Bulletin and everything, we need someone who can help us file and what not. Y'know, someone to do the boring work.” Foggy says while sipping his bland coffee. “What’s her name again? Genesis? Jenna? Something. She sounds sweet and all, but we’ve never even heard of the program she’s coming from. “New Salem’s Community Career Internships”. Where even is New Salem?” Karen looks at the email sent to her by Moira. “It’s a bit of a more closed off woodsy kind of area. All the private schools and rich people stay over there. I’ve never been of course, but I’ve heard people talk about it a couple of times.” Matt says trailing close behind Foggy. “According to the organizer, Moira MacTaggert, the program is for gifted people or something like that. It’s connected to a school called “King’s School for Gifted Children”. Sounds like they work mostly in the science and arts kinda fields. I think Jenevieve will fit in perfectly here. On the call I had with Dr. MacTaggert, She said Jenevieve likes science a lot, but is pretty shy. Apparently working at a law firm will help get her out of her comfort zone. We could be really helping someone here. So be on your best behavior, you two. No scaring her off.” Karen and Foggy share a look before collectively rolling their eyes. As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Foggy makes his way over and clears his throat. “Um, Hi. Is this Nelson, Murdock, and Page? I’m supposed to be interning here. My name is Jenevieve Ramirez.” She stands in the doorway, eyes big as she pulls on her cardigan’s thick sleeves. “Yes! I mean, yes. Come on in. I’m Foggy Nelson . The lovely blonde at the table is Karen Page. And that fellow in red specs there is Matt Murdock. Welcome.” Foggy says, pointing to everyone in the room, receiving waves in return. “Nice to meet you all. I’m Jenevieve. But you guys knew that already, sorry. Um, I’m excited to work with you guys.” Jenevieve smiles awkwardly. Matt takes notice of her heart rate, she almost sounds scared. “Perfect. Well, we don’t normally don’t have other people in the office other than clients. I guess you can just follow me around for the day. I’ll show you the ropes and everything. How does that sound?” Karen stands to shake Jenevieve’s hand. Jenevieve looks at her hand and swallows hard. She grabs onto it and gives it a quick shake before dropping her hand and wiping it on her pants. Karen and Foggy look on with pursed lips. “Um, that’ll be great. Thanks again for hiring me by the way. This is definitely gonna be different for all of us so it seems.” “Great! Let me just show you around then.” Karen turns to walk away, her voice fading from the main room as she starts to speak again. “That was a bit odd. She seems nice though. Maybe she just needs to warm up first.” Foggy walks toward Matt. “She was nervous. I could practically feel it radiate off of her. And her hands were a bit sweaty too. It was like it got worse before and after she shook Karen’s hand.” Matt says with furrowed brows. “It was so weird man. I wish you could have seen her face.” Matt clutches his cane,“Hmm. She could’ve just been really nervous. I doubt there was anything behind it.”

“12:30, You know what that means. Lunchtime! What are we thinking about today?” Foggy shoots up from his desk. Matt and Karen walk into the room. “I have to go check something out first. I’ll probably grab something on my way back to the office. Thank you though.”Matt picks up on Karen’s odd behavior. He shakes it off. “Alright then. How bout you Matt? What are you craving tonight?” Matt looked in Foggy’s direction. “Not sure, Foggy. Guess it’s up to Jenevieve.” “Where is she anyway?” Foggy asks, looking around the area. “Sounds like she’s filing in the backroom. She’s a bit quiet though, so I'm not entirely sure.” Matt listens for any kind of movement coming from her. “Hmm, okay. Well I’m gonna go grab lunch with Marci. Maybe you and Jenevieve can have some one on one time or something. Come on Karen, I’ll walk out with you.” The two walk towards the front door, grabbing their jackets on their way out. 

 “Hey Jenevieve, Foggy and Karen just left for lunch. Is there anything you’d like to get?” Matt comes around the corner finding Jenevieve at the filing cabinet in another room. She jumps slightly, clutching her sweater clad chest. “Sorry? What was the question? I was a bit zoned out there.” She huffs. “I was asking about lunch. It’s just you and me here. I figured you should pick, since you’re new.” He tilts his head. Her heartbeat increases. “Um. Anything is fine. I- I don’t really have a preference.” “There’s a place a couple of blocks down. I hear they have great sandwiches. I’m pretty sure it’s called “Silk Joy”. How does that sound?” “Sounds great. My friends actually work there, so that could be fun.” She smiles a little. “ Shall we then?” He starts to walk off. Jenevieve following suit. 

“Hi, welcome to “Silk Joy Cafe”. What can I do- Jeni?! What are you doing here? And… who’s this?” Jubilee leans in whispering the last part with high brows to her friend.  Jen blushes a little, not going unnoticed by Matt. “Um. This is Matt. He’s one of my bosses at the firm. Matt, this is Jubilee. She’s one of my friends from school and one of my roommates.” Matt smiles, lifting his red specs up a little. “Nice to meet you. What do you recommend on the menu?” “We have these amazing BLTs. Like absolutely the best I’ve ever had in New York. We serve them with chips or fries. As for drinks, we have lemonade, iced tea, water, or coffee. All have various flavors.” She smiles as she finishes. “I’ll have one of those BLTs and water, please. Jenevieve, what are you getting? I’ll pay.” He turns to her. “Oh that’s not necessary, Matt.” “No, I insist. It’s your first day and as your boss, I’d like to show my respect and everything.” Jenevieve turns redder. She turns back to Jubilee. “I’ll just have some fries and a blueberry lemonade, Jubes. Thank you, Matt” “Are you sure, I don’t mind paying for whatever you want.” She nods her head, then speaks again forgetting he’s blind. “Um yeah. I’m still quite full from breakfast.” He stares in her direction. She’s lying to him, but he nods back. “Okay… Well you guys can have a seat wherever. I’ll have your food and receipt in about 10 minutes tops.” Jubilee looks at the two with squinted eyes. 

Jenevieve pinches one of Matt’s sleeves, guiding him in the direction of a chair. “Thank you.” He whispers. She sits across from him and takes her glasses off for a minute. She wipes her eyes. “How is everything going for your first day? We aren’t boring you already, are we?” Matt asks, sensing a bit of stress in the air. “It’s going pretty good. I don’t really mind “boring” work. I’ve had worse. It’s actually really interesting watching the rest of you, if I’m honest.” She says, a small smile on her lips. He smiles too. “She’s opening up a bit. That’s good.” “What did you do before this, if you don’t mind me asking?” “Um. I was interning at a daycare filled with new mu- uh.. new… modern… equipment. It was a little more on the fancier side.” She swallows hard, hoping he didn’t notice. Of course, he did. He decides not to say anything, wanting to save her any type of embarrassment. “Oh that’s nice. You like working with kids? I imagine that would be a difficult, but fun little job.” She nods. “Yeah, it’s pretty fun to me. I want to work in child development or um… science, so it was perfect. I haven’t really decided on either though. Like, I know I could do both but, I don’t want to overwhelm myself, y’know.” He nods. Jubilee walks up with two plates in her hands. “Here’s your food guys. I’ll be back with your drinks in a sec.” “Thank you.” They say looking at her.  Matt picks up his sandwich, noticing Jenevieve’s heartbeat picking up. She’s staring at her plate. “Is everything okay? You seem… quiet.” Matt asks with his head to the side. She looks up. “Oh yeah. I was just a bit lost in thought I guess. Sorry.” He shakes his head, mouth full. He can tell something is wrong, but he can’t tell why. Her mind is racing. “I’ve never had a problem with potatoes. The most I’ll see or feel is the chopping and frying, right? It’s just a potato. Not a dead animal.” She thinks to herself, picking up a fry and puts it in her mouth. Her slow chewing is heard from Matt. “Are the fries not good? She’s not choking. Maybe she actually was just full.” His face is scrunched. “Are you okay, Matt. Was the sandwich good?” She stares a little. He clears his throat. “Oh. Yeah, It’s great. I was just thinking about what I have to do when I get back to the office. Are you ready to go?” “ I am, if you are.” He stands waiting for her to get up. She grips his sleeve again, guiding him. They both wave to Jubilee on their way out, her fries still on the plate.

Author's Note: I hate a love- hate relationship with Karen, so she's kinda annoying in this installment. She can be a bit too much for me at times. That's just my opinion tho. Also also, Jeni's thoughts are in pink and Matt's are in red. Bye