#enjoyyyyyyyyy

[sychosid]

Are you having your fun?

Shawn Michaels/Bret Hart, Shawn Michaels/Hunter Hearst Helmsley

Heartbreak Hotel AU

Chapter 2

[Ao3 link]

He was the first one Shawn really cared about.

The Heartbreak Hotel’s proprietor stared at the name on the page of the check-in book. Each page had a different name. Shawn couldn’t explain it, but he liked to keep each guest who signed in separate. The history of his past affairs were his and his alone to know.

Soft fingers traced the letters of that name.

B-R-E-T H-A-R-T. 

Bret Hart.

He had been mysterious. Mistrusting, at first, and Shawn found him plenty annoying. But still, the two of them felt linked. Being with Bret was the first time Shawn felt alive. No one else before Bret made him feel that way.

Bret was a lot of firsts. He was the first to stay more than a night. He was there for a week. That was one of the best weeks of Shawn’s life, but he didn’t even know how many weeks he’d been around. It was all fuzzy to him. He was just…here. It felt like he’d been running the Heartbreak Hotel for years, and at the same time just for a handful of days. Shawn wondered a lot of things. Was he here because he died? Was this Hell? Maybe it was somewhere in-between Heaven and Hell? He joked to himself that he should’ve listened to his mom when she told him to pray more, but he wasn’t even sure if he had a mother.

Bret had stories. About his mother. And his father. A whole big family made up of sisters and brothers. 

He remembered Bret rolling up in that slick, black muscle car. Dark tresses and pink tinted sunglasses. Stress showed itself on his face in the form of fine lines and wrinkles. He was a man of few words, but there was an accent there. Shawn remembered his voice clearly.

“You’re not from around here, are ya?” Shawn had asked, not really knowing where ‘here’ was.

“No.” Bret hadn’t seemed all that interested at first.

“Where you from, handsome?”

“...Alberta.”

“Canadian, huh? Don’t think I’ve gotten many of those…” Not that Shawn knew for sure.

That first conversation didn’t go far. Bret was standoffish, grumbling his answers. Shawn chalked it up to tiredness. After all, who wouldn’t want to talk to him? He charmed plenty of guests with his voice alone.

Somehow, Bret had managed to actually lock the door to his room. Shawn had been upset and confused about that. He spent minutes trying to open the damn thing, trying his own keys. Keys that worked in the past, to gain access to the honeymoon suite. Keys that didn’t do anything but open the door to the honeymoon suite.

Eventually, Shawn gave up. As he was throwing his hands up and walking away, Bret opened the door. He’d asked Shawn if he could help him.

“Ah…no, just came by to check on you, sir.” Shawn rolled his eyes, popping the gum he had been chewing.

Bret had pulled off his sunglasses. It was the first time Shawn would look into those dark eyes of Bret. There was a flash of something there that went away pretty quick. It sent a shudder down the blonde’s spine when he recalled it. The same way it had when he first saw it. It felt like his eyes pierced right through him.

He remembered feeling stunned.

“Well, I’m fine. So goodnight.” Bret spoke after a moment, closing the door and locking it with a click again.

Shawn remembers the frustration he felt. To this day he didn’t know how Bret locked the door, but he had also learned more about the Hotel in that time. Maybe the Hotel didn’t want Shawn in. It didn’t want Bret on that first night for some reason. Maybe because Bret would’ve skipped out as soon as he could if Shawn slept with him right away?

He sat there, at the hotel front desk, face in hand as he leaned on the desk. Marty’s departure had left him feeling a storm. Even now, the weather outside was gloomy. Shawn didn’t know why memories of Bret were hitting him so hard today, but it felt like the only thing calming him down.

Bret didn’t check out like Shawn thought he would. He extended his stay by another day. Maybe it was because he got some good sleep, but he was a lot more sociable that second day. He had alluded to being on the run, needing to hide out. It was all coyly said. Shawn found it thrilling.

“So it’s really just you out here?” Bret had asked, stopping by the lobby for the third time that day.

“Yep, just me.” Shawn nodded. The weather outside was late spring-like. Sunny, warm, just enough of a breeze. Shawn had popped the windows open, the smell of blooming flowers wafting through the lobby.

“I see. It’s a nice place. Quiet.” Bret remarked. Shawn had wondered why he’d been lingering around so much that day. It became pretty clear later that evening, when Bret invited him to visit him in the honeymoon suite.

“You’re pretty eye-catching, you know.” Bret had remarked, lounging on the heart shaped bed. Shawn had been sprawled out against the side of the bed, mostly on the floor. His arms had been folded up on the edge of it as he peeked up at Bret. It’s how Bret had wanted him, apparently. On the floor. His fingers idly played with the short velvet trim of the bedding. Hand selected by him.

He had stared at Bret, who had stared right back.

“Thanks.” The blonde responded after a beat. He didn’t know what to make of Bret at the time.

Maybe he still didn’t.

Their night ended like that, too. Shawn on the floor for Bret. It felt good. On his knees for this mysterious man.

The man who praised him and petted his hair all night.

—

Hunter was finished eating breakfast, and bored. Shawn was who knows where, and Hunter was hardly let out of his room without Shawn’s accompaniment.

He knew it’d make Shawn mad, but he couldn’t help it. His ankle was finally feeling better. He didn’t feel so…so damn out of it.

Determined, Hunter got dressed in some clothes Shawn loaned him. Jeans and a t-shirt, clothes he felt out of place in but it was all he had. It was this or the silk robes, and while he normally loved silk…it was uncomfortable.

There was something almost perverted about wearing Shawn’s clothes though. The scent of rose laundry soap hung on to the shirt, and Hunter huffed in the scent as he brought the collar of the shirt up to his face. It was a strange feeling. Worn cotton that felt out of place with the upbringing he had. It reminded him of when he was much, much younger, before he had to refine himself. Playing with his cousins, wearing hand-me-downs and running through mud.

Hunter gave a deep sigh, stifling his tears. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t–

Enough of that.

Hunter pushed the door open.

He couldn’t help but be surprised at how…nice it was outside.

It wasn’t like any motel he’d stayed at. It was more like a hotel, funnily enough. A beautiful marble fountain stood in the center of the parking lot. It wasn’t with any fancy statues or anything, but white marble and some of the clearest water Hunter had ever seen. Taking a few more steps out, he saw there was a pool not too far off from the parking lot. It looked inviting, like he could strip himself bare and step in and it would be happy that he did.

Hunter clutched his head. These thoughts were so strange, he didn’t even know what to do with them. It was like if he acted on them he’d be rewarded, but they went against everything Shawn had asked of him.

He stepped onto the asphalt of the parking lot, down pristine birch wood stairs. Not a grain of wood was out of place thankfully, or else he’d probably have a few splinters in his feet. The asphalt itself was warm but not hot, and a refreshing breeze passed by Hunter. Partly cloudy skies overhead, and the temperature was moderate and comfortable. It was all perfect.

Further, he stepped towards the fountain. He reached its edge, looking down into the crystal clear blue water. His reflection waved in the ripples of the splashing water into the main basin. If it had been still, it could’ve been mistaken for a mirror. There was a tuft of black hair next to him and he stood up straight with a start. 

He stood up with a start, looking over at a woman who was now sitting at the edge of the fountain. She had a Virginia slim in-between her fingers. Her lips were painted perfectly red, her cupid’s bow accented by the matte color on her lips. A heart was painted on his face, outlined by rhinestones. She looked tired, beyond herself. Dramatic, dark but glamorous makeup around her eyes and penciled in thin eyebrows. A white evening gown that looked almost like a very chic wedding dress, with a slit up to her thigh bedazzled with crystals. It was unlike any dress Hunter had seen, and even his own mind failed to understand how something so simple could appear to be so beautiful. It was a contrast to the woman’s quaffed hair, full of hairspray to keep its shape and her complex expression that Hunter couldn’t fully read.

“Who–”

“It doesn’t matter who I am, sweetheart,” she started, inhaling from her cigarette. The orange-red burning tip flared as she did. The woman held her breath for a few moments, before letting out a smooth and steady stream of smoke. Even the scent of burning tobacco and tar was whisked away by the breeze. “But you can call me Sherri.”

“Okay Sherri…” Hunter started. “I didn’t know there was anyone else here.”

“I’m not exactly here.” Sherri turned her head to look at him, slumping forward to reaching her face down to her free hand and holding it there. Her smile was sad. There wasn’t a better word for it from Hunter’s perspective. Just sad.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean?”

Leaves rustled, green and lush around the property. 

“This place feels unreal,” Hunter said.

“It is,” Sherri said.

The man understood, but he didn’t. He knew it was too amazing to be real, but it was real the way a nightmare felt real. Blurred lines of reality in the space between just waking up and having your foot in the door of the realm of sleep.

“You should go now, Hunter,” Sherri continued.

“Why?”

“Shawn won’t be happy to see you out here.”

“I…don’t…”

Before Hunter could finish his thought, there was the bang of a screen door opening. Shawn stood outside the main office, eyes wild as he began approaching him.

He turned to look at Sherri, but she was gone. There was a single glass crystal in the fountain, turning and tossing under the falling water from the higher tier.

Shawn ran up to him. He was dressed down. For himself, at least. A red and white checkered shirt that looked like a picnic blanket. He was in jeans, perfectly tight, and cowboy boots. Brown leather with white stitching and tips.

“Hunter! What are YOU doing out here?”

“I–” he didn’t have a chance to explain himself before Shawn grabbed him roughly by the wrist and dragged him away from the fountain.

“You need to be resting. Didn’t I tell you to stay put?” Shawn chided, like he was scolding a child and not an adult man. “I don’t want to have to put locks up but I will.”

“Locks?”

“It’s for your own safety! I mean you shouldn’t try to get around too much on your ankle. We don’t even know how bad it is.”

“Then we can get it checked out at a hospital.”

Gray clouds began to roll in as the wind went from pleasant to chilling. Hunter shuddered, now cold in his shirt and jeans. He stood on the stairs, wrist still in Shawn’s hand, when the rain came pouring down.

Shawn was under the awning that covered the door to his room, protected from the rain. His eyes were piercingly cold.

“Let go of me Shawn.”

“No. You have to get inside, now.”

“I’m leaving.” Hunter tried to tug his wrist away, Shawn only doubling down by grabbing it with his other hand as well.

“No you’re NOT. You CAN’T leave, I WON’T LET YOU,” Shawn was practically yelling.

Hunter pulled harder, grabbing onto the railing for support. His bare feet were beginning to slip on the wooden stairs, as the rain poured down by bucketfuls. 

“I. Want. To. LEAVE.” He managed to tug his hand free, watching horror cross Shawn’s face. He didn’t realize he was falling until he felt the ground fully slide from under him, crashing down onto the parking lot’s asphalt. He felt his head bounce against the blacktop, his back thudding down after it.

“HUNTER!”

was the last thing he heard before he blacked out completely.

[johnsbleu]

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 166

warnings: nsfw hmh masterlist

“That was a good one.”

Thunder has been rumbling and shaking the house for a few hours straight now. It’s almost 8 in the morning, but with the thick blanket of dark clouds, you thought it was much earlier. You got up and opened the balcony door a little so the two of you could listen to the rain, and you immediately crawled back in bed to snuggle with John.

You look over at John and laugh quietly, then you snuggle closer to him, “Yeah, it was.”

Neither one of you really have any plan of getting out of bed today. Ronan is with your parents until tomorrow evening, so you’re definitely going to soak up the few extra hours of sleep and the extra time alone with John. John has been slipping in and out of sleep for a few hours, you as well. He’s so warm and cuddly in the mornings that you always just fall back asleep in his arms while he gives you soft and lazy kisses. It’s so nice to be with someone like this; just relaxing and being lazy together. It’s so intimate.

Thunder crackles loudly outside, and you hear Bleu whimpering downstairs to be let into the basement. John starts to sit up, but you put your hand on his chest and lightly push him back down.

“I got it,” you whisper to him, then you kiss his cheek.

“Thank you, baby.”

You smile at him when he barely opens his eyes, “I’ll be back.”

“Thank god.” he says, and you start to laugh.

Quickly getting off the bed, you grab your robe and pull it around yourself, then you head downstairs to find Bleu already waiting by the door. He scratches at the bottom of it when the thunder rumbles again, and you pat his side before opening the door.

“Big ol’ Pit Bull. So vicious.” you whisper to him, then you wait for him to get to the bottom of the stairs.

Since Ronan isn’t here until tomorrow, you just leave the door open a crack so that Bleu can let himself up when the storm passes. Once it passes, he’ll most likely know he’ll be going for a walk, so he’ll come up.

You head back up to your room as the rain begins to pour down faster and harder, and you pull your robe off and crawl back in bed with John, who is already waiting with his arms open for you. John hums and pulls you closer into his warm embrace, then he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Mm,” he hums, “This is a perfect morning.”

“I agree,” you whisper back to him, then you tilt your head back to kiss him, “You know, I must really love you.”

John laughs, shaking his head, “My breath is not that bad.”

“It can be.” you tease as he laughs, then you cup his face and pull him down to your lips for another kiss.

John’s lips on yours become persistent as he rolls to hover above you, and you pull him closer to you. His hand slides down your side to the edge of your nightgown, then he slides it under and up to your hip where he plays with the thin edge of your underwear before he tugs it down a little. You move so that he can pull them down as the two of you make out, and you both laugh into each other’s mouths when he gets a little tangled in the sheets.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, softly rubbing his cheek, “We can take our time today.”

“I like the sound of that,” John smiles, then he crawls on top of you to continue making out.

This moment is absolute perfection. You and John laying in bed, the sound of the rain and thunder outside, the cool breeze coming in the balcony door, and John’s warm body on top of you. It’s perfect. And nothing is going to spoil it.

Just at the thought of something possibly spoiling this moment, you stop kissing John and reach over to put your phone on silent. That earns a little laugh from John. He smirks when you look back at him, then he leans down and kisses you deeply.

“You look so beautiful this morning,” he whispers against your neck, and you smile. “You look beautiful every morning.”

Letting out a small laugh, you cup his face, “Thank you.”

John presses one firm kiss to your lips, then he sits up, pulling you along with him, then he takes your nightgown off and tosses it to the floor before he comes in fast to kiss you. He kisses down your neck to your breast, taking your pierced nipple into his mouth. He hums loudly, which makes you smile when he opens his eyes to look at you. You place your hand firmly on his chest, then you push him over to lay back down on the bed. With his help, you pull his boxers down, and you smile at him when his cock springs up. He gives you a small shrug and a wink, and you laugh as you lean down to take him into your mouth.

“Wider…” he whispers, and you open your mouth more to allow him in deeper. “Right there, yeah, right there.”

You suck on him for a few moments, then you sit up to catch your breath before going back down, listening as John begins to breath heavier. You lightly drag your lips down the length of his cock, then he groans and places his hand in your hair when you take him into your mouth.

“Shit, baby…” he moans quietly, then he nods his head when you look into his eyes, “Deeper.”

You deep throat John a few times until you need to catch your breath, and you sit up to wipe the spit off your chin. You get ready to go back down on him, but he touches your chin and pulls you to his lips instead. Reaching between the two of you, you stroke him slowly and listen to him as his breath gets caught in his throat.

“Fuck…” he pants softly, then he leans back to look into your eyes, “Lay down.”

You crawl onto the bed and lay down in front of John, then you lay on your left side and look over your shoulder as he gets himself adjusted. He lifts your right leg up a little so he can slide between them, and you grip the sheets and moan when you feel the tip of his cock slipping in.

The feeling that overcomes you when he finally buries himself deep inside of you is one that cannot be described. There’s a fullness to it. It almost feels like something that was missing has finally been put into its place. A lock to a key. The final piece to a puzzle.

“Shit,” you put your head down and laugh a little, “God, you feel so good.”

John hooks his right arm under your leg to keep it up a little, then he looks at you and smiles as he start to slowly thrust his hips. Your eyes roll shut as you tilt your head back, and he kisses your neck, sucking and biting gently.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers, and you look at him, “And all mine.”

“Mhm,” you hum as you look into his eyes, and he bites his bottom lip before leaning up to kiss you.

The rain is still coming down fast as you and John kiss in bed, and he reaches up to grip your breast. He wraps his arms around you and leans closer to pant into your ear, and you grip the sheets tight in your hand.

“Harder.” you whisper to him, and John does as he’s told. He jerks his hips so hard that it knocks the breath out of you. “Again.”

John sits up, then he moves down between your legs, which causes you to arch your back and scream out his name in pleasure. Your legs begin to shake as you come, and you grip John’s hair in your hand, trying to pull him away even though it feels beyond amazing; it’s almost a sensory overload.

“Your legs are shaking…” John whispers against your thigh, and he smirks when you look up at him, gasping for air.

Your eyes roll shut as you lay back on the bed and come down from a high, and you feel John caressing your thighs as he sits up again. He moves you until you’re laying on your stomach, giving you a little spank, then he slides back between your legs and places his hands on your waist as he jerks them harder and without restraint. You bury your face in the pillow as you moan loudly, then you look back and watch John.

“Fuck…” he puts his head down and groans loudly before he leans down and kisses the top of your head, “God, I’m so fucking crazy about you. So god damn crazy.”

You reach up and touch his cheek, “The feeling is very mutual.”

“The way you feel when I slide in…” he leans closer to your ear, “So fucking wet for me.”

Goosebumps cover your arms as you squeeze your eyes shut, and John jerks his hips harder and faster, both of you starting to pant louder. John slides his arms under your chest and one hand lightly wraps around your throat as he pants and moans into your ear.

“I’m getting close again…” you choke out, and John sucks on your neck, “Fuck, I’m close!”

“Tell me how much you love this,” John whispers in your ear, “Tell me how much you love my cock.”

You try to respond but the words get caught in your throat, and only a loud whimper comes out. It’s enough for John since he laughs soft and low against your ear.

“Yeah?” he whispers, and you nod. “You love it that much?”

“So…fucking much!” you manage to yell out, and your teeth chatter, “Fuck, John, you feel so good!”

John begins to roll his hips and all you can hear is his hips slamming against you. You squeeze your eyes shut and lift yourself up, then you look back at John as he holds your hips tight. He groans and reaches up to rest his right hand on your shoulder, then he leans down to kiss your back.

“I’m gonna come…” he whispers, and you nod.

You lay back down and slide John’s middle finger into your mouth as you both begin to lose your rhythm, and John jerks his hips hard, knocking the breath out of you, then he goes still before he shudders and finishes deep inside of you as you shake and moan on the bed.

“Good girl,” John whispers, then he kisses your neck, “That’s my girl.”

“Fuck,” you let out a small laugh as you tilt your head back to look at him, “My thighs hurt.”

John kisses your cheek and waits for you to roll over, then he lays on top of you, slowing rubbing himself against you as the two of you kiss.

“That was just round one.” he whispers, then he kisses your nose, “I’m not going easy on you today. Not when I have you to myself all day and night.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and smile, “I will let you do whatever you want, wherever you want…as long as you make me some breakfast.”

“You got yourself a deal!”

__

After breakfast, you called to check on Ronan. She’s having fun with Grandma and Grandpa, and they’re spending the day at some outdoor recreation store--Dan wants to get some new golf clubs--and it has a huge aquarium and some other cool things with animals. There’s another aquarium near there too, so since it’s still raining, they’re going there as well. Ronan will love it. She loves the tank in the basement, so she’ll love the big aquariums.

“Bug is good?” John asks as you hang up, and you nod. “What’s she up to today?”

“She is going with Grandma and Grandpa to some rec store,” you say as John lifts your feet up and sits on the couch, “Apparently there’s some huge--”

“Oh, yeah, the aquariums.” John nods, “Yeah, she’ll love that. I went there with your dad and Jimmy a few months ago, it’s really cool. There’s also this really cool thing with taxidermy animals--pretty sure they’re not real. There’s an African safari one and an Arctic one.”

You nod your head, “She’ll love that.”

John places your feet in his lap, then he massages your foot, “What are we going to get up today?”

“Hmm,” you hum as you look out the window as the rain continues in a consistent downpour, “I don’t know. What should we do?”

“Each other.” John says, and you tilt your head back and laugh, “I’m cool with that.”

You shove his shoulder, “Of course you are.”

John leans over more to kiss you, “I just want to spend the day with you.”

“God, I’m so stupidly in love with you,” you pull him up more until he’s laying on the couch with you, “It’s nice to spend time with you. Remember back when we first had Ro, we’d feel so guilty about spending time alone?”

“Yeah,” he nods, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours, “Remember how you used to worry I wouldn’t love you after you had a baby?”

You nod, “What an idiot.”

“And you used to think I wouldn’t want you as much after I saw you give birth,” he says, then he shakes his head, “I still want you. And I’m just as stupidly in love with you too.”

You smile softly, “Funny to think about how we thought we’d never get time alone after having a baby. Then I remember how much my mom and dad love Ro and want to spend time with her, which is nice because it gives us time to be alone, especially if we want more babies.”

John smiles wide at the mention of more babies, “Very true.”

“Not yet though.” you say, cocking your brow up.

“Yeah, definitely not yet,” he says, then he kisses you, “But it is nice to practice.”

You laugh quietly as you lean in to kiss him, “It is very nice to practice, not that you need any practice. You are so good at what you do.”

“Really?” John moves his hand down your back to your ass, “I think you’re good too.”

“Round two?” you whisper, and John nods his head and smiles as he kisses you and pulls you on top of him.

__

So, round two didn’t actually happen. The storm outside got so bad that you and John decided to turn on the news instead, which was a good idea since there’s a severe thunderstorm headed towards Mill Neck. You called your mom and she said they weren’t going to go to the other aquarium, they were just going to go home and hunker down. If the storm gets too bad, John said he’d drive over and get Ronan or that the two of you would just go stay with them. It’s awfully tempting. You hate being away from her during this.

You stand at the window and watch the storm outside, but you feel John lightly grab your right arm and pull you back a little. John gestures to the window and nods, a silent understanding that you shouldn’t be too close to them just in case they crack.

“Thanks, dad.”

John smiles as he stands next to you, “You’re welcome.”

“What are you thinking?” you ask as you look up at him, his eyes flickering around at the rain and wind in the trees. “Should we go to my parents?”

“Uhhh,” John crosses his arms and looks out at the sky as lightning flashes.

The lights inside flicker a few times before they ultimately go out, and you and John both look over your shoulders before looking at one another. John reaches up and scratches the back of his neck, then he takes a deep breath.

“I think it might be a good idea.” he says, and you nod your head. “I’m sure you’re worried about Bug like I am.”

“Yeah, I am.” you nod, then you grab your phone off the table, “No service.”

John rubs your back to calm your nerves a little, “Go pack a small bag for us. I’m gonna walk around and make sure everything is good.”

You quickly head upstairs and get a change of clothes for you and John, plus your pajamas, then you grab your toothbrushes. You toss everything into a small bag before heading to Ronan’s room. She has everything she needs at your mom’s house, but you grab a few extra clothes just in case.

Just as you get to the bottom of the stairs, John comes out of the kitchen with the phone to his ear, “Yeah, we’re on our way right now.”

“You have service?”

“We’ll be there soon. Okay, bye.” John hangs up and looks at the phone, “Landline.”

You laugh, “Our household is probably the only house on the street that still has a landline.”

Thunder rumbles loudly and shakes the house, followed by the brightest lightning you’ve ever seen. John touches your shoulder and smiles softly, then he moves past and walks to the basement door.

“Bleu!” he calls out, then he laughs, “Come on, boy.”

You walk past John to get your shoes on, then you walk back over to him, “He’s scared, babe.”

John sighs a little, then he heads downstairs, “I’ll be back.”

Even though you’re a little anxious from the storm, you bite your lip and try not to laugh when you hear John trying to wrangle up Bleu. He’s just so scared from the storm, so you understand.

John comes upstairs carrying Bleu in his arms, “Fuck, he’s heavy.”

“What a big baby.” you laugh as you walk over to pet Bleu, who is shaking in John’s arms. “It’s okay, baby.”

“We should get going,” John says, so you nod and walk through the kitchen to head to the garage.

Everything was already locked up since you haven’t stepped foot out of the house since you got home last night, so you just open the back door so John can put Bleu in the car. He’s still whimpering and shaking, but he’ll be okay once you’re at your mom’s. He can sleep in the basement.

“Think Jimmy and Tess are okay?”

John nods, “Storm isn’t that far west yet. Not sure it’ll even make it there.”

You chew on your bottom lip as you look down and nod, “If it does get that far, they’ll be okay?”

“Baby,” John rests his hands on your shoulders and leans down a little, “She’s okay. Jimmy is there. He’s not stupid. He’ll protect her and Finn.”

“I know, and I trust him. It’s not that…” you say as John turns you around and guides you to the passenger’s side, “I just worry about them.”

John kisses the top of your head, “I know, but just like I’m doing everything to keep you safe, Jimmy is doing that for your sister and nephew. He’s a smart guy. I know we tease him, but he’s smart.”

“I know. I feel bad. People probably think I hate him.” you say, then you widen your eyes and look at John, “Oh my god, does he think I hate him?”

John laughs when you look at him in horror, “No. No, he knows you like him. Would you please get in the car?”

“He knows that I trust him with my sister?”

“Yes,” John slouches a little when you don’t move, “My peach, please get in the car.”

You smile as you lean up to kiss him, “Only because you asked so nicely.”

__

John had to carry Bleu into the house while you ran ahead with the bag, but he got him inside and settled in the basement with some food and water for the night. It’s only early evening, but the storm is supposed to last quite a while.

By some miracle, your parents still have power, so you’re very happy that you decided to come here. Ronan was super excited to see you and John, and she ran as fast as she could to greet the both of you. Now you’re all sitting in the living room with the news on to keep an eye on things, and Ronan is playing with some toys.

“Just got off the phone with her,” your mom says, and you look up at her as she talks to John. “They’re fine. It’s raining but nothing too bad.”

John pats your leg and smiles at you, “She’s okay.”

“Well, I just know how crazy storms get at the lake house, you know, with it being on the water and all.” you say, and John pats your leg again.

Your mom nods, “He’s going to keep them safe, sweetheart.”

“Why does everyone think I hate Jimmy?” you throw your hands up and sigh as you get off the couch and walk to the kitchen for a drink, “I don’t hate him. I just worry about Tess.”

“We know,” John turns a little to look over the couch at you, “No one thinks you hate Jimmy.”

You slouch a little and walk back to the couch with your water, “I trust him. It’s not that I don’t trust him or anything like that. I just always worry about Tess.”

John laughs, “You know how many times Tess texts me when we go places? She texted me during our first few days in Paris, like, 15 times, and it wasn’t because they were coming there too. She worries too and wants to check up. It’s normal.”

“Okay,” you lean your head against his shoulder and sigh.

There’s another storm headed this way now, so you all focus on the TV. Ronan walks over to you and reaches up, so you tuck her between you and John on the couch when the thunder rattles the house. She turns her face and tucks it into John, and he laughs as he picks her up to hold her in his arms. She’s scared but she’s probably hungry too.

You get up and walk over to get something for her to eat, then you psst her and smile when she looks at you. You motion her over with your finger, and John lets her off his lap and looks over as she toddles to you.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, and she nods her head. “What do you want?”

Ronan points at the fridge and babbles something to you, then she waves and smiles, showing off her few teeth, “Hi.”

“Hi, bug.” you laugh as you walk over to the fridge and get out an egg. She’s obsessed with scrambled eggs, so she’ll be more than fine to have that. You look up as John walks into the kitchen and picks her up, “Can you maybe just get her some yogurt and corn flakes? If she doesn’t eat it, I will.”

“Are you hungry?” your mom asks, and you look over at her and widen your eyes since you are absolutely hungry. “Help yourself. Unless you want me to cook something, I can--”

You put your hand out as she starts to get up, “No, mom, it’s fine. I can just make something.”

John pats your side and moves around the kitchen to make some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches since you two didn’t eat dinner, and you smile gratefully at him. He leans over to kiss your cheek as you scramble the eggs up. You put them on a plate to allow them to cool down, then you grab Ronan and put her in her highchair.

“I don’t think this storm can get much worse.” Dan says as he looks out the window, and John walks over to join him, which makes you laugh since he’s standing just like him and is giving off major dad vibes.

He’s such a DILF, and thankfully he is a dad you get to fuck.

Your mom smiles and gives you a small wink when you look over at her, then she comes to join you, “Is Bleu okay downstairs?”

“Yeah,” you add a little salt and pepper to Ronan’s eggs, but not too much, “He has some food and some water, and I think John put down a blanket for him. He’ll be fine. I’m sure John will go check on him before bed.”

“Okay,” your mom wrings her hands and nods, then she smiles when Ronan squeals loudly, “She doesn’t have a clue about the storm.”

You laugh as you bring Ronan her eggs first, “It’s because you and dad are here. If we were at home, she’d be curled up in John’s arms, stealing him away from me like always, you little stinker!”

“Nah, there’s plenty of me to go around,” John smiles as he walks back over and sits next to Ronan.

You hold his gaze for a moment and have a silent conversation--your weekend alone has been cut short. He gestures to the peanut butter and jelly he made for you, so you walk over to join him. He smiles at Ronan as she eats and offers some eggs to him, which he takes, then he reaches for your hand under the table.

John always keeps it PG in front of your parents. Sure, he’ll kiss you a few times, pull you into his lap now and then when there isn’t a chair around, but he always likes to keep it clean in front of them. Not that they care. Your mom thinks it’s cute since she knows that you like having someone show you affection. Obviously John wouldn’t ever make out with you on the couch or just bend you over and grope you--he is a gentleman.

“No, for you.” John says when Ronan offers him more eggs, “You eat them.”

You smile as you look at her scrunching her little nose up and smiling at John, and you laugh when she offers him some yogurt instead. She has one hand full of yogurt and cornflakes, and she’s using her right hand to wave.

“Notice how she’s using her left hand more when she eats.” you say, and John nods, “She’s a leftie.”

John smiles proudly, “Like us.”

“At least it’ll be easier to teach her to tie her shoes.” your mom says, and you look at her, “No one was left handed in our family. Claire had to teach you to tie your shoes and I had to teach Tess since she’s right handed. Claire joked that we might have switched babies at one point.”

You smile as you look at Ronan, “I swear she’s just a carbon copy of John. I absolutely love it.”

“Oh, no, she’s definitely your daughter.” John says, and you look at him and squint your eyes playfully. “I don’t mean it in a bad way, so don’t take it that way. She just has so much spunk and personality. And she always wants to share. She’s so generous. I can go on and on.”

You laugh, leaning over to kiss him, “You’re sweet. A kiss-ass, but sweet.”

John presses a kiss to the palm of your hand, then he looks over to see the wind is picking up, “I hope everything is okay at home.”

“I’m sure. We’ve had some pretty bad storms before and only a few branches fell.” you say, then you reach over and gently squeeze his bicep, “It’ll be okay.”

“And you two are here,” John says, looking at you and Ronan, “The most important things to me are here and safe--and Bleu, of course. The house could crumble, I don’t care.”

You smile and cup his face as you lean over to kiss him, “Kiss-ass.”

__

The storm got to be a little too scary for Ronan, so she’s sleeping in between you and John in the guest bedroom. Well, John isn’t in bed at this point. He’s looking out the window at the storm. What a dad.

You get up from the bed and walk over to wrap your arms around his waist from behind, “What’s up?”

“Just watching the storm,” he whispers, and you nod your head before moving to stand next to him. “Sorry that our weekend was cut short.”

You wave it off, “No big deal. It’s not like we won’t have more weekends in the future.”

“I’ll make it up to you, peach.” he says softly, and you look up at him, “You and me, we’ll go out to a nice dinner sometime this week. How does that sound?”

“Sounds really good.” you smile up at him, then you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him, “Come snuggle me and the bug.”

John nods and crawls back into bed with you, draping his arm over you and Ronan, “She’s so beautiful.”

“She is,” you look down at her plump cheeks and brown hair, “I never thought I could love someone so much before, then you came into my life and showed me, then we had this beautiful girl. My heart is so full of love because of you two. She has her days and fussy moments, but she’s been so perfect.”

“She is her mother’s daughter.”

You smile as you look at him, just barely able to see him in the dark room, “No, she’s father’s daughter.”

John lets out a small laugh, “Our next baby will be hell on wheels, guarantee.”

“Oh, absolutely.” you nod your head as John smiles, “People keep saying the second baby is a breeze, but they’ll be 50% Wick.”

“Ro is 50% Wick.”

You smile, “I feel like Ro is somehow 100% Wick. She really has our best qualities--and a few of our bad ones--but she’s perfect, just like her dad. We’ll probably think our second kid is just as great though. I know I will, because I made them with my best friend.”

“Oh, so you’re kissing ass now?” John laughs, and you shrug as he leans over to kiss you. He lightly rubs his thumb over your dimple, then he smiles, “I can’t believe we made her in the first place. She’s so perfect.”

You snuggle down in bed and feel John’s hand on your back pulling you and Ronan closer, “We’re pretty lucky.”

“I’m the luckiest. I got you and her.”

Closing your eyes, you make kissy sounds as John laughs. Kiss ass.

__

The moment you step out of the bathroom, Tess throws her arms around your neck and talks so fast that you have to take a step back and hold her by the shoulders. You look at her with genuine concern before you start to get worried.

“What happened?” she says, and you furrow you brow, “You’re okay? Ronan and John are okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. The storm knocked out our power, so we’re here.” you say, then you shake your head, “Mom said she talked to you.”

Tess nods, “But we saw your house.”

You shake your head again, “What? My house?”

“Oh,” she swallows, “The…the living room windows have a huge tree branch through them.”

You drop your hands from Tess’ shoulders and rush to the living room, but as you turn the corner, you bump into John’s hard chest with a thud that comes out of you.

“I was just coming to get you.” he says, and you look at him. “Let’s go see the damage. It can’t be that bad.”

Tess nods when you look at her, “I just saw the windows and got in my car. It can’t be that bad. Jimmy is still there.”

You bite your lip as you nod, “Yeah, let’s go look.”

John tells your mom that you’ll be back later to get Ronan if the house isn’t too bad, then he wraps his arm around your shoulder as you bite your lip nervously.

__

You’re holding your breath as John pulls into the driveway, and you let it out and feel your stomach fall when you see the large branch that has shattered the windows in the living room. John leans over a little to make sure you’re wearing some sensible shoes, then he gets out and reaches for your hand.

“You all have good shoes on, right?” Jimmy asks with a broom in his hand. You and John both nod, and he gestures for you two to come up, “I’ve just been trying to clean up this glass before you got home with Ro-ro. She’s at mom’s still?”

“Yeah, we didn’t know how bad it would be. She might have to stay there again tonight.” John says as he starts to walk around and inspect the area, “Just in case the glass is all over the floor. We’ll keep Bleu there too.”

You put your hand over your mouth as you step over some glass and walk into the living room. There’s glass all over the floor, some scooped into piles from Jimmy, and some on the couch. Leaves and twigs are on the floor, along with some puddles of water from it raining in last night. The picture on the side table is knocked onto the ground, and you frown as you reach down and pick up the broken frame, the glass shattered right over your face. That’s probably a bad omen or something.

“Hey,” John gently takes it from you and sets it aside, “It’s just a picture frame and some broken glass.”

You look down as you tear up, “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“Because this is our home and it look like a fucking mess,” he says, and you laugh as you look up at him. “We just cleaned this place.”

“Don’t make me laugh.”

John leans down and wipes the tear off your cheek, “But it’s my favorite thing to do.”

“I, uh, I assume you have good insurance.” Jimmy chuckles, “I mean, after all the shit you’ve put this house through in the past.”

“Yeah, definitely,” John says, laughing a little, “Great insurance, actually.”

You frown, “How are we going to fix this?”

Jimmy comes up behind you and stands next to John, “I can run to my shop, grab some big pieces of wood to put over the windows for now. Probably get some glass by midweek. I’ll need to measure it and send in an order for it. They usually get it out to me fast.”

John smiles when you look at him, then he looks at Jimmy, “Sounds good. Thanks, man.”

You reach out and hug Jimmy, and he stumbles back a little and laughs.

“What’s this for?” Jimmy laughs, “John, why is she hugging me?”

“Just let it happen, man.”

You sniffle as you lean back and look at Jimmy, “You know I like you, right?”

“What? Of course!” he laughs, and you sniffle again.

John pulls you by your shoulders until you’re against his chest, “She was worried about Tess and I told her that she’s fine because you’re there. Y/N thought she was coming off like she didn’t like you.”

Jimmy laughs as he reaches out to nudge your chin with his knuckle, “Oh, come on, Tess texts John all the time when you two are gone. She likes him.”

“I know, I was just being stupid.” you whisper, then you look at him, “I trust you with her and Finn. I want you to know that.”

“I appreciate it.” Jimmy nods as he gets serious, “They’re my entire world. I’d do anything for them.”

“Another storm is heading this way, and from the looks of that lake back there, you might want to pack up your basement.” Tess says, and you look up at John. “Honestly it’s half way up your yard right now, it’s going to flood your house.”

All of John’s work is in the basement. All of his books that he’s worked on for so long. They’ll be completely ruined. The living room is already covered in glass, so you’ll have to get that cleaned up as quickly as you can before more rain moves in.

John lets out a heavy sigh, “Fuck.”

“What do we do, babe?” you say, looking at him for guidance, “Tell us what to do.”

“We get everything that we can off the ground and upstairs. We…pack away as much as we can. Desks, couches, chairs, those things don’t matter. We can buy new ones.” he says, turning to you, “Get everything that you think is important and put it upstairs.”

You inhale deeply and turn to walk away, but you stop when John touches your arm. He leans down and kisses your forehead, giving you a soft smile when you look at him. He turns and heads downstairs with Jimmy, and you walk into the office and start going through things in the desk to pack away.

“Is Finny okay?”

“Yeah, he’s with Jimmy’s mom. I came over to see you and I literally…” she starts to laugh, “I literally started screaming when I saw your window. It was the most dramatic moment of my life. I ran over to the window and started crying. I called Jimmy and he came running over. You should have seen us. Academy award winning.”

You roll your eyes at Tess since she tries to deflect from her feelings all the time, “You’re such a softie.”

“Yeah, well…” she laughs as she shrugs, “Maybe I’m just feeling a little more emotional lately.”

“And why is that?”

Tess stands up after packing up a box, “Because Jimmy and I are actively trying to get pregnant, and I have a really good feeling that it’ll happen soon.”

You smile at her from across the room, “Finny is getting a new sibling soon?”

“Jimmy and I practiced a lot this weekend,” she says, and you jokingly gag, “I mean, a lot.”

“Okay!” you put your hands over your ears and laugh, “I get it!”

Tess grins, “I just have a really good feeling that I’ll get pregnant soon. I wish you’d do it soon too so we could be pregnant at the same time.”

“John would probably love it if I was pregnant right now, to be honest, but I’m not ready.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

You shrug, “I just don’t think now is a good time for us.”

Tess nods, “I respect that.”

Sometimes people don’t know when to stop pushing on getting pregnant again. Of course you don’t mind when Tess asks--and she’s never pushed--but the other day, a customer at the shop made a comment about it and was asking over and over when you’re going to get pregnant again. When you said that you just weren’t ready for another baby, she said that you were just unsure because you weren’t pregnant and you’d change your mind once you were. Obviously you’re on birth control so that won’t be happening soon. John stepped in to try and help you in the situation and the woman made some gross comment about him hiding your birth control so you’d get pregnant.

John was very upset about that. He promised he’d never do that--not that you needed confirmation about that since you know he never would; he’s not ready for another baby either. The woman ended up leaving and you were in a shitty mood for the rest of the day. Thankfully John understood.

“You know I’d never push you, right?”

“Of course,” you look over at her as she packs up a box, “And you never have. It’s always people who don’t know me that say shit. It’s never been anyone in the family or even our friends.”

Tess smiles softly, “I just want our babies to be best friends.”

“Are you kidding? Finn and Ro are obsessed with each other. They’re going to be best friends.” you say, and she laughs, “And if they aren’t, I’ll force them to be.”

“Same,” she laughs loudly, “Finn asked about Ro all weekend. It was so sweet.”

You smile, “Ronan’s new favorite toy is the one that Finn got here.”

“Hey, for the record, I picked that out.” Tess teases, and you laugh. She rolls her eyes, “Fine, he can take the credit.”

“I hope you really do get pregnant soon, Tess. You’re a really great mom.”

She smiles, “Thanks.”

“A mom of two. A mom of two babies that are half Jimmy’s DNA,” you put your hand over your heart and look at her, “You are so brave.”

Tess nearly dies of laughter, “I know, right?”

“Hey, what are you two laughing about in here?” John says, and you look at him as he stands in the doorway.

You smile softly at him, “Nothing.”

John walks over to you as Tess leaves the room to bring a box upstairs, “I’m glad to see you smiling, you know?”

“I know,” you tilt your head back and kiss him, “Glad to see you smiling too.”

“This won’t break us,” he smiles, holding you by the waist, “It’ll suck, but we’ll get it all cleaned up and fixed. Insurance will cover it.”

You squint your eyes playfully, “I hate how you’re the level headed one.”

“Hey, someone has to be.”

“I’ve heard that before,” you joke since this is absolutely not the first time you’ve told him he’s the level headed one, which knowing his past makes it funny but also nice since he’s grown a lot. You reach up and move his hair away from his face, “Ro will need to stay with my parents until this is completely cleaned up. I don’t want her crawling or walking on the floors, same with Bleu.”

John starts to smirk, “Does that mean I get you to myself for another night?”

You roll your eyes playfully but can't help the smile that spreads across your face, "I guess so, but we should probably focus on getting this mess cleaned up first.”

John nods in agreement when you gesture to the scattered debris and broken glass, and together you start gathering trash bags and cleaning supplies. As you clean, you can't help but feel grateful for John's calm presence and steady hand in the chaos of the situation. He really is the level headed one.

Maybe being stuck in this mess isn't so bad after all–as long as you're with him.

__

taglist:

@sakurachan-9 @beingnerdyissupercool @tnu-ree @ruby-octo @scream-queen-25 @ladyren33

[qulizalfos]

woahh who cheered

hi i woke up at 6am today for Fic Reasons and i will be posting. imminently

[ranberriz]

Me projecting a panic attack onto Gri :p

[gloomunson]

In The Back Seat

The one where he's in a band, about to leave for a huge tour... This is my first published Steve fic. If you see mistakes, no you don't. Hope you enjoyyyyyyyyy.

Word Count: 11,247

He never meant to hurt you. I suppose no one ever means to hurt anyone. It just sort of happens and then they’re left to either pick up the pieces or hide away in shame or God forbid show no remorse at all. He felt guilt. He felt a tremendous amount of guilt actually. That was a good sign, maybe not for you but for him, definitely. He wasn’t a lost cause. He could rectify it or hope to. You’d let him drive you home too. You can’t have completely hated him if you allowed that. You could have called a cab just as easily as you’d asked him to be the one to drive you. You looked on the verge of tears when you asked him, not ideal for him. He hadn’t enjoyed it, not like that.

You don’t sit beside him in the passenger seat like he expects. He glances to the empty seat beside himself as if he were still waiting on you to settle there. You don’t beg him to turn the radio down. You don’t say anything at all. He suspects you might cross your arms over your chest in some form of tantrum or way to signify how badly he’d fucked up and that you were pissed at him because he knew in his head and heart that you were. You can’t even find it in yourself to do that. Your hands are lay flat against your thighs, one on each, so still. You’d given him nothing. You just looked out of the window, feeling as if you were in some kind of movie, some sad film sequence, just watching the world fade away. You’d never looked so dejected before.

He finds it hard to focus on the road. He watches it more than he watches you, but he finds himself flickering over to you so fast his eyes start to hurt. At the next redlight he decided to dig his hand into the glovebox compartment, digging through takeout receipts and old cassettes to fetch his glasses. He didn’t wear them often, especially not around anyone else. Not as vein as he once was but still fighting with the natural aging process as anyone else their age was. But alas, he'd needed to be safer with you in the car, he’d needed to see the road much further ahead and the signs you drove by in the barely illuminated in the night. He needed his glasses.

He curses under his breath when his hands struggle to land on them immediately. He watches the lights, then you, then the lights again while he grabs them, anxiously rushing himself to get them out, unbent and on his face before the lights changed again. He shuts the compartment, sliding the lenses over the bridge of his nose, notably on edge. He dared to glance your way again. He could now see your pain with 20/20 vision. Fuck glasses.

He feels he should say something. He could distract you. He could engage in small talk. You didn’t even have to answer, a glance in his direction would have been a win for him. He’s tapping the steering wheel. It’s as if his entire vocabulary had escaped him. His mouth had gone dry. He finds himself scratching at his chin, his short scruff a pleasant feeling under his fingernails. He still darts eyes over to you as if you’d have gone somewhere in the seconds it took him to think.

The headlights of the car behind had given you this glow and upon noticing it he’d let out a deep and painful sigh. He hadn’t ever seen you look as beautiful as you did right then. Which is a shocking realisation for him when he’d always considered you breath-taking. He swears he could crash this car and go out in an eternal blaze, and it would have been worth it because the last thing he saw was you.

He saw you, like this, biting your lip to avoid speaking to him. Brushing your fingertips over your thighs, occasionally tugging your skirt down towards your knees. You with your legs growing cold even under your thick tights that you’d picked because you thought you’d get a chill. He saw you unable to look at him. Fighting internally (or so you thought) to avoid his gaze. You were such a sight to behold. As he neared your side of town, just a mere 10 minutes from your home, he found himself unable to take you there. He was left powerless to his deepest intentions, and he diverted your journey.

You don’t think too much of it. There were so many routes he could take. He would take you there, you were sure of it. You didn’t show signs of stress, of anxiety, no more than you already had just being in this position. You just watched the buildings whiz by. The streetlights flickering here and there. Worst of all, the billboards reminding you of just why you’d been so upset in the first place. You couldn’t look out of the window much longer.

You had a dumb fight. All fights were dumb but this one especially. You went to his stupid party, at his stupid friend’s house. You couldn’t have known. You still wouldn’t have known, even now, if it hadn’t been for someone else. You feel the tension knotting in your stomach as your mind wanders back to it. You wanted to cry so badly, to be able to feel anything at all without the intensity of his eyes catching you at any second because of course you noticed him. You couldn’t not notice him. He was all you were ever aware of, and you were so god damn hurt because he didn’t have the decency to share the same sentiment with you.

You sigh with frustration. You’ve had enough. “Let me out.” You say it sternly. “What?” He responds, near choking on air as the words are still leaving you. “Let. Me. Out.” He’s puzzled. He’s still driving, far enough away from your house that you wouldn’t dare walk from here, not at this hour. “Are you kidding me? No, I’m not stopping.” He watches the road more intently for the first time since you left the driveway of his friend’s house. “Steve, let me out of this fucking car.” Your tone is calm, and your heart is anything but. He thinks you’re fucking crazy, face doing nothing to hide it too.

He wants to fight you on it. He doesn’t want to lose you. But he might lose you if he doesn’t stop. There was also a heavy possibility that he would lose you even if he did. “Then what?” He asks. Shrugging, urging you for your next steps. You look to him in the mirror, your lips are parted, nothing coming out. “No plan? No way of getting home?” He’s trying to gesture with his hands while they remain on the wheel. “Not letting you out then.” He thinks he has you defeated. He might even be smug about it, looking at you through the mirror as if he’d won. He’s not even close.

“I’ll call a taxi.” He scoffs. “Yeah? Why didn’t you do that about 20 minutes ago?” He’s shocked he’s managed to argue with you. Just minutes ago, his heart was aching, and he was terrified he’d upset you and now he was arguing. It was fight or flight and you were important enough for him to pick the former. He’d regret it another time, he’s sure. “Because I didn’t think of it then.” You exasperate, flinging your arms out. “Just let me out Steve.” You stare right into his eyes; you have a cold and serious glare. He pulls over begrudgingly, but he doesn’t unlock the car. It was war.

You know not to bother with the handle, he’d already thought of that. Considering he was such an airhead on a day to day; he seemed to be carrying himself pretty well tonight. He was just hellbent on destroying your happiness. Maybe he should progress that as a career on top of lying to you. That would go down a real treat.

“Talk to me.” He pleads. Voice soft in the way it only ever was for you. Not that you’d ever noticed. It was worth a try. “No.” He rolls his eyes, fingers running along the leather of the steering wheel before returning to the top, gripping it so tightly his knuckles were turning white. “Just yell at me already, do whatever you have to.” He slumps back in his seat, head hitting the rest behind it with a thud. It had to hurt. Good, you thought. 

“You could have fucking told me.” You surprised yourself but not him. He knew you’d kept tight lipped for too long and now the second you were given real opportunity you were going to come for him with all you had. “You know who told me?” He doesn’t respond. It wasn’t necessarily rhetorical, but you knew he knew and there was no point in adding more fuel to the fire in confirming it. “Mike. Not you, not Robin, not Nancy not even blabbermouth Dustin, fucking Mike!” Your hands slam down against the seat so hard it made your palms sting. He winced as you did it. Even if he didn’t see it. He heard it. He’d kiss your delicate skin better if he wouldn’t get slapped for even trying to. Wow, that wasn’t very platonic of him.

“I was going to tell you.” He was. He really was, he just didn’t know when, hadn’t found the words. A pathetic excuse, he was well aware. He was stupid, he knew that everybody knew it. “What? When you were already halfway across the globe? You’re leaving in 2 weeks Steve.” You sounded so wounded, and you recognised it, and you hated it. He couldn’t have felt more stupid if he’d tried. “I just don’t understand.” He dared to look at you in the mirror. You appeared just as crushed as you sounded and to make matters worse, you were looking right at him. You weren’t glancing into the mirror like a coward. You weren’t like him. You were looking directly at his poorly positioned, hunched over body sinking into the leather seating of his car further and further as each second passed.

“Did you just think I’d see a billboard and be like yeah cool, amazing, so glad you’re touring again, congratulations.” He wants to speak but no words come out. There wasn’t a way to apologise for this, not when he’d fucked up so badly, not when he’d ruined everything. “I would have been happy for you Stevie.” His heart was aching in a way he’d never felt before, come close to but never quite endured. The nickname had sent him over the cliff he was afraid he’d been back stepping onto. One more wrong move and he was done for.

“I’m coming back there.” Before you could protest, he was pulling the keys and burying them in his pocket. The best plan for him was none at all. The door was opening and closing, and he was slamming another behind him, sliding into the backseat. You stare ahead of you. Your heartbeat so loud you both heard it. He locked the doors again and you laughed. He’d actually disliked the sound for the first time in his life. “I’m not going anywhere. You made sure of that. I don’t even know where we are.” You run your fingers through your hair. He doesn’t look at you like he wants to. He looks forward. You’re both staring at the seats in front of you. You wished you were in complete darkness; it may make this easier to live through. Unfortunately for the both of you, you were parked conveniently next to a streetlight.

“I couldn’t find the words.” He says, he wanted to be as transparent as he could. “I wanted to find them, I couldn’t. Like every time I tried to tell you, they just got jumbled up like some kind of word vomit or something.” He pulls a disgusted face as he says the word ‘vomit,’ he’d never liked that word. “You’re a lyricist. I find that hard to believe.” You cross your arms over your chest. A weak argument. “You don’t have to be so hard on me.” He’s right, you don’t, and you might feel a shed of remorse for it, but you wouldn’t drop it. “I’ve been beating myself up all night you know.”

You allow yourself to look at him. His stomach twists when your eyes land on him. His body is flooded with a warmth he could only compare to the sun. A blistering but comforting heat that reminded him of where he came from, where he was most at home. “I didn’t actually want to face the fact that I was leaving.” He starts to fiddle with the tear in his jeans. He wasn’t sure where the rip came from, he’d grown out of intentionally ripped jeans long ago, but the threads were tactile and useful to him now, soothing him as he worked through his emotions. Since he had no choice but to do so.

“It’s what you do.” Your voice is so soft, he wants to lean in and let you surround him with it. “But I haven’t done it, not for 2 years.” He laughs nervously. He’s not sure how the conversation morphed into his anxieties for the future but here he was. “Hell, I barely remember how I did it before.” He’s running his fingers through his thick brown, perfect hair, and you’re biting your bottom lip at the thought of replacing them with your own. Hard to stay mad when you lose your focus at the sight of anything he does. “You really are scared.” He would feel relaxed at your compassion returning but he doesn’t know how long it will last. “Terrified more like.” He reaches forward to prod the headrest before him. There’s no reason for it other than impulse and he tended to act on those a lot.

“I could have helped.” He sighs, sinking into his seat, slouching in the way he always did and probably shouldn’t, he’d connected those dots already. “I know.” You don’t push it, sitting quietly, maybe even patiently. “I know and that’s why I’m so stupid.” You’d never correct him there. “You’d have supported me no matter what because you’re a good fucking friend and I’m just a coward who doesn’t deserve it.” You roll your eyes as he hits his head repeatedly off the back of his seat. “Cut the pity party.” He gulps. He almost gives into temptation, glancing to the right of him as you command his silence. He settles for leaning his head back instead.

He couldn’t have looked more inviting if he tried. His neck outstretched like that. His adam’s apple prominently bobbing as he took a breath and gulp of air. Veins in neck pulsing invitingly. The way he wet his bottom lip with the nerves he felt. The top on him so tight you’d question his circulation with the delicious way it hugged his bicep. When did he start dressing sluttier than you? You wanted to bite his neck; you wanted to forget all of this and wrap your lips around his jugular and never let go. You’re not even sure what you were fighting for anymore. “Sorry.” Even if you knew it wasn’t meant as his formal apology, you had known that he meant it. He would never not be sorry for this. You were the last person he wanted to hurt.

“I am a good friend.” You say. He would laugh if he could. He doubts he’d ever feel joy again until you forgave him. He was still picking away at his jeans looking all pathetic like a kicked puppy. “I am happy for you.” You were, somewhere in the pits of your soul you were, somewhere very far and unobtainable at this moment in time but it was there. “I miss you already.” He says in a low whisper and that’s enough to crack your hard exterior just like the rasp in his voice had. “You what?” You hadn’t heard him right. You couldn’t have. His voice was too husky to be understood; you’d bet money on it. “I-“

He turns his body around, knees trying to face you, as much as they could in the cramped space he’d forced himself into. You didn’t look at him. He was starting to take it personally. “Would you just look at me?” Its making it much harder for him to grovel without your eyes giving him a chance. He wants to reach out and touch the hand you left on your thigh, but he thinks better of it, couldn’t step in too soon. “I can’t,” you mutter, you’re avoiding his gaze even more now that he’d asked for it. You were just trying to make sense of it all. You’re acting ridiculous and you’re acutely aware of it but you’re processing. “Can’t or won’t?” Where had he robbed these few braincells from? You didn’t like it; he wasn’t supposed to be this perceptive, that was never his game. “Both.” You grunt.

“Can’t keep doing this.” He says. You’re not sure what exactly he’s referring to, but you feel him burning the words into the side of your face like he’s branding you with a hot iron. “Doing what?” You’re suddenly breathless and this tiny car had felt a whole lot smaller, closing in on you. You had to fan yourself with your hand to satiate the heat. The more you focused the more you noticed how his long legs had barely fit a gap between the two of you, it was only a matter of time before you were crushed together.

“I don’t know- I don’t want to say it.” He bites back the words he so keenly wishes to utter. “You don’t or wont?” You turn his words back on him without so much as a second glance. Your pulse rockets as you do. “Both.” He says, his body is shifting still. He’s moving closer. Not quite beside you but getting there. It wouldn’t be long. He doesn’t want to cross your boundaries; he’s had better ideas than to mess with them, but they were just there. The temptation was overwhelming. He starts to slip back where he was, his knees digging into the back of the driver’s seat thinking better of it. He was a coward, and he didn’t need to look at you to know you thought it too. He’d returned to his original position and your heart ached at the distance.

Even when he was on a different continent, he’d never felt further from you than he did in this moment. What’s worse was that you saw him retreating, not just physically but mentally. He was sat debating whether to leave you not just on tour but for good. When his nails dug into his own thighs, his breathing deepening into exhausted sighs. The wheels were turning with no signs of breaking. He’d gone from suffocatingly close to a million miles away and he hadn’t even moved. It’s just what it felt like when he closed himself off like that. You didn’t like it. He didn’t have to. You were scared he felt he needed to. You were mad, you were so mad, but not even because you of what he did anymore, but because of what he wouldn’t do, what he continued not to do. There wasn’t enough honesty between you. You needed some truth. You may have to force it from him, but it was far less unsettling to picture than the thought of him leaving without the air cleared between you.

So, you did the unthinkable. You clambered onto his lap in a way you never had before; sober or otherwise. Your legs fastened on either side of his thighs. Your head bumps the ceiling briefly, not enough to knock you off track but enough to hurt. You’re well aware of the clumsiness of your actions and the inelegance of jumping someone’s bones. Not to mention the wardrobe malfunctions that ensue. Your skintight skirt flipping up, essentially exposing your underwear in the process. Even hidden under dark tights the risk of him seeing them made a hot flush creep across your stomach.

You had made it now. You sat in his lap, and you made him see you, you begged him to see you and he saw you all right. His mind raced. He didn’t know where to look or what to say. He was going a million miles a minute. The possibilities, he was lost in them, what could have been, the what ifs and even the why on earths. His trousers were already tightening. Just another thing to worry about. If he hadn’t upset you enough before, an inappropriately timed boner might as well do the trick.

You wonder where to put your hands. The internal battle chipping away at you piece by piece. You’re hovering over his lap, too petrified to sit your full weight on top of him even if it pained you not to. If you didn’t clutch some support you’d be aching for days. It was as if he saw a thought bubble appear above your head. He wearily placed his hands on your legs to push you down and make you sit. His eyes were transfixed on his hands. He’d moved them with no communication to the rest of his body. He’d not spent a second thinking about touching you and yet, he had.

He shouldn’t have looked down at his hands. He had the thought now, the regret in his choice of actions, the placement of them. He knew how your skirt had betrayed you, lifting to show him more of you than he’d ever dreamed of. He knew that if he just looked even a millimetre to the side, he’d see the cotton of your underwear concealing you away from him beneath your tights. He felt every bone in his body screaming at him to move, he wasn’t quite sure which direction yelled louder. To look or not to look? He wanted to look. He’d ruined himself.

You took this opportunity to look at him. You analysed his expression while he avoided your gaze. How had you been so stupid? To be blind to him. You watched his every move and waited on his every word with bated breath and yet you just hadn’t seen it. You hadn’t seen how hard he fought with himself every day. How he’d never really looked you in the eyes before because there was such a deep secret locked away inside of them. It was almost like this was your first time seeing him properly. You’d never seen him so clearly in fact. His little freckles and moles dotted around his nose, his cheeks, his neck. He was quite ethereal. A bone structure a model would die for. Sweet hazel eyes so clear you felt cleansed just being seen by them. His smile lines sinking into the corners of his mouth and his lips, oh his lips. Pink and plump and glossy and so kissable. There was something kind of magic about the way he looked in the dim light and it drew you in enough to leave not even a little bit of space between you.

You kissed him. You leaned in quickly, too quickly to catch yourself, not sure if you even would have wanted to. It was too late to prevent it now anyway. The wheels were fully in motion and like a freight train, there was no stopping you. Your lips had reached his and you had felt your body surging to life.

Steve Harrington’s lips were the sweetest you’d ever kissed. Soft and pillowy, warm, and gentle. He even had a mild, sweet taste. Cherry lip balm.

He can’t move. He can’t breathe. He can’t- well he doesn’t know what he can’t do, he just can’t do it. You’re kissing him. You’re sat on his lap; his hands are on your thighs and- his hands are on your thighs. He needs to move his hands. He lifts them and he’s thanking God inside his head for giving him the strength to do it even if it pained him to leave the safe space they’d been left to rest in. You’re panicking. He’s not kissing you back, he’s not doing a damn thing. He moved his hands away and you expect them to push you back at any moment, but that moment never arrives. He needed to kiss you back. Your lips felt so nice, so soft, supple, and shit- he needs to kiss you back!

His body was on autopilot, kicking into gear. It was better than nothing. It was way better than nothing. He instinctively leans forward; you’re so scared to fall backwards that your hands are gripping onto his shoulders for dear life. Maybe it’s to secure the kiss, maybe it’s because you need him closer, either way you’re elated, you’re not the only one involved any longer. He’s still leaning, he’s pushing forward, your back is pushed into the seat behind, his hands are floating around to your back and then-. They land. They’re overlapping each other near the base of your spine and tugging you inwards away from the seat. He’s pulling you in close, into his atmosphere. His car was becoming suffocatingly tiny, and you hadn’t even minded it anymore because you weren’t trapped alone, you were trapped with him, him, him. The air was thick with fear and lust, but it was invigorating. It smelt like him. It felt like him. Fuck it was him, all him.

“Oh God Steve why haven’t we kissed before?” You’re gasping for a breath between kisses, and you can’t help yourself. You take the words right out of his mouth. You can’t stay away. You kiss him so much he can’t get a word in. It was almost as if you’d only just discovered it. You’d experienced the pleasure of kissing for the very first time and you needed all the practice you could get before it’s taken away from you again. He’s just as invested as you are. Your lips are so sweet he wants the taste imbedded into his brain and he suspects it would be from here on out. Your scent, your taste, he’s not the best at describing things but you remind him of the air after rain. Fresh and earthy. Floral and saccharine, a conforming aroma he wanted to bottle and keep to himself forever.

He’s not breathing anymore. He’s not taken a single breath out of fear the oxygen would somehow wake him from this dream he had to be having. But you’re pulling away because he hasn’t said anything and it’s starting to dawn on you just what you’d done. You think you’re going crazy. He kissed you back, sure, but that didn’t mean anything, he took his time, it wasn’t instant. It wasn’t confirmation. It didn’t mean he meant to. He just did what anyone would do, act on impulse. You think you’re shaking with fear. You meet his eyes with nothing but anxiety in your heart. You’d kissed him like you meant it. Did he?

His glasses are so foggy you can’t even see his eyes anymore. It was undecided if that was an advantage or not. On the one hand you wouldn’t see the shock or horror. On the other, you couldn’t see if he felt the opposite. If he looked at you like you were the piece he’d been missing all these years. You don’t even know if he’s looking at you or not. He’s facing you but is he seeing you?

His hands slip from around you and you hold back the whimper of disappointment. You needed to keep your expectations to a minimum. His hands tug his glasses away from his face before he looks down, attempting to clean them with the bottom of his shirt. You bite your lip so hard you fear it may burst at the slight exposure of his happy trail beneath. Sure, you could faintly see it every time he’d lifted his arms that night, but seeing it here was something that had you fighting for your life and begging your legs not to squeeze together. You heard nothing but the pounding of hearts and the occasional car whizzing by on the quiet road as you processed the previous events.

“Stevie.” His eyes lift to meet yours and they’re filled with a kindness that is so compelling you might just make it out of here alive. He notices that your pupils are dilated to an extent that he could have mistaken them for black. He’d never seen you like that before. Your cheeks, they’re so round, darkened with a blush. Your lips, so beautifully shaped, swollen from his own. Your cupid’s bow so prominent and alluring, you were so naturally pretty, he’d always known it but seeing it this close, after kissing you, breath-taking. He can’t believe he’s never been this close to you before. That was a crying shame. A monumental mistake on his part. Even if he wouldn’t have been able to control himself. He would certainly have remembered it though, memorised every feature of your face like the lyrics to a song he must sing and be happy to for the rest of his days on this earth with you.

He sets his glasses in your lap and your stomach flutters as you feel the weight of them. They weren’t heavy in the slightest but the sensation, the reminder of just where you were situated. You were still in his lap, still in his orbit. It was dizzying. “You look really pretty.” You let slip, one glance into his eyes and your mouth ran without thought. His lips turn up in one corner. “You think I’m pretty?” He’s laughing at it but it’s the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. Deep down, it’s probably the nicest compliment you could have given him. You thought he was pretty and even better than that, you liked that he was pretty. “With glasses,” you gesture to your lap. “Even prettier.” It takes an incredible strength not to let it be known that he loved hearing you say that.

You try something different. You have only one chance at this. You owed it to yourself to explore the unanswered questions you’d been stacking up in your brain for the entirety of your friendship. One’s you hadn’t dared to speak into existence and thought better of verbalising even now. Instead, you answer with a touch. You place your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. When his hair reached a certain length, it curled there, and while you fumble to grip them in a light tug, your nails graze his scalp. He whimpers beneath you elegantly before snapping his mouth shut, a flush of red blotting his cheeks as a result. Fuck. He’d always had the prettiest voice, but you weren’t even remotely aware that it was melodical even in this situation. “Did you just-“he wants to hide, he wants his hands to cover his face, and he goes to fulfil that want, but you stop him.

He's looking at you and he hasn’t felt this vulnerable in a long time. You didn’t have many secrets. You knew almost everything about each other but this. Knowing his kiss, knowing his sounds. This was an unexplored territory. Continuing forward at this trajectory could have the most fatal consequences for the two of you and your ongoing relations. You’re so painfully aware of that but you still tug his hair back hard in efforts to hear him again. “Fuck.” He gasps, his pink lips slotting open not even trying to save himself the embarrassment, he was already exposed, may as well accept it.

You had to kiss him again, had to kiss him and pull his hair and feel his little bitch boy whimpers on your lips or you may die. You throw yourself at him with nothing more to lose. His hands wrap around you so tightly you knew he’d struggle to let you go and there wasn’t a chance in hell that you’d ever allow him to if he tried. You tug on his brown locks, and you kiss him and he’s grunting into your mouth like a desperate slut. Suddenly the events of the night were long forgotten because you’d both just discovered your new favourite hobby. Each other.

His tongue slides inside your mouth, granting itself permission. You weren’t the only one wanting to take charge and the idea of fighting for it turned you on more than it should have. His one hand leaves your waist to cup your cheek while he pushes his face right into yours. His precious little nose digging into your cheek as his mouth is enjoying you, savouring you.

‘You’ by definition as declared by Steve Harrington.

pronoun

1. Used to refer to the person or people that the speaker is addressing.

"Are you listening?"

2. Used to refer to any person in general.

"After a while, you get used to it."

3. Used as a treat for him to devour, tasting better than any gourmet, expensive delicacy he’d ever had the pleasure of trying.

"He loves you; he loves your taste; he loves you."

Your kiss was replaying in his mind before it even ended. It was hung in a museum full of his greatest achievements. He’d be visiting the archive on numerous occasions just to relive this feeling, whether you developed from here or not didn’t even matter anymore he was in it 100% for as long as it lasts. “Steve, I think I love-“ He stops dead in his tracks as your words fill the silence. His eyes are not nearly as panicked as they should have been, unlike yours. “I love kissing you,” you finish, your breath shaky as you catch yourself before confessing to something far too soon, even if you’d felt it with every fibre of your being since you met him.

“Yeah?” He’s so drunk on your lips he can’t possibly think straight let alone filter his words to have more caution in them. In the short pause he’s watching you expectantly. His doe eyes blown wide, staring up at you all besotted and pathetic. That tight lipped, goofy smile plastered across his face. “Love kissing me or love me?” It’s not for you to confess your love. It’s not even for you to reject him. It’s just to hear your voice and know he’s not alone like he fears he might be. “Both.” You breathe out. The relief washed over you both like a tidal wave.

You can’t keep away any longer. You’d be damned if you let there be any more silence without it being a result of locking lips. “Have to have you.” He groans. Might as well jump in at the deep end now. Your hands are sinking down between you. Your brain is foggy. There’s an unmistakably lusty cloud over your head. You felt as if you’d been hit by cupid’s arrow, infatuated to such an intensity that you were unable to process any information that wasn’t related to your love for the man beneath you. Whatever sick love spell it was, you were grateful for it. It had given you the courage to act on your true feelings and there was no way you were turning back now unless he asked it of you, and he swears he would never dream of such an outcome.

He wants to cry when your fingers brush his stomach. His tummy flips at the coolness of your fingertips delicately toying with the material resting above it. You lift it slowly, your hands deliberately feeling along his torso as the shirt rode higher. His coarse hair beneath his belly button, leading all the way down between his thighs. It built a heat between your own. He wants to tear it off, he’d even burn it just to prove how little he needed it and how much he needed you instead. You bite on your lower lip at his eagerness to remove it. “Take it off.” You say. He’s way ahead of you. In a flash he’s throwing it to the front of the car. A problem for him to deal with at a later date.

Steve exposed in this way wasn’t something new to you. You’d seen him shirtless. You’d touched him shirtless. The only benefits of living in a ridiculously sunny state during summer, were the opportunities to lounge by the beach or the pool. To witness the tightened torso of your best friend with a pair of sunglasses shielding him from knowing just how much you were checking him out and by god, had you checked him out. He’d used to shave the hair on his chest for years, then one summer he just let it grow out and you had never seen anyone more manly. Or maybe you had, but there was a feral streak in you, wild enough to pretend no other man existed except for him. When the thick thatch of hair caught the water or god forbid sweat, you had to fight to keep your mouth closed. Prone to gawping at things, or people you wanted your mouth around. You wondered if he’d ever done the same to you, but by the way he’s staring at your chest, it’s like he’s never seen it before.

Steve had wanted to. He’d thought about it so often, mostly at night alone in his room, but still he’d thought long and hard about the way your body looked in very little clothing. He remained as respectful as he could in your presence. He didn’t let his eyes wander too far from what’s socially acceptable between friends. But he had thought about this moment for what felt like an eternity. He could never have imagined the location or the dim light painting this portrait of your silhouette, but he wouldn’t change it for the world because at long last he was here.

He's getting braver. His hands are caressing your hips, pushing upwards to rub along your sides before returning back. “Steve, please.” He’s ignoring your need. He’s playing with you how he wants to when he wants to. He’s repeating his movements at a snail’s pace. You couldn’t rush him, not after making him wait for so long, he deserved to take his time. He deserved to savour you. You’re not happy about it. You’re ready to rock over his lap and take what you need but he catches your hips. “No.” He says confidently, sternly too. Your eyes almost bulge out of your skull, a tantrum ready to slip from your tongue. “Wait for it.” As if you hadn’t been waiting for it every single day of your life since he’d stepped into it.

Fucking hell, he’s not even looking at you. It’s like you’re not even there anymore. His eyes are fixated on your chest and somehow that had increased the wetness between your legs more than you thought it would. If it were Steve objectifying you, you would make an exception. You just sank back onto his lap, running your fingers through his hair while he explored you, doing as you were told and praying he’d end your torture if you did. He never thought he’d see the day, you were being obedient, let alone being that way for him.

It's worked out better than you’d imagined. His teasing touches, they’re working you up just enough to leave you wanting more. You worry your enjoyment can be felt through the fabric of your clothing. The more he touches, the more he gets to know you. He feels it, he just doesn’t show it. Somehow that made it even hotter for you. You were embarrassingly speechless for him, and he pretended he hadn’t caused it, couldn’t possibly have known. He wasn’t completely clueless. He wasn’t all shy. He knew what he was doing. There was such a power in shutting the pretty mouth of his best friend with simple caresses. “You seemed to have a lot to say before.” He’s now fondling your breasts, pinching hard over the fabric of your blouse, not even daring to touch beneath but you didn’t even need him to. The gasp that leaves your lips makes his cock twitch and you felt it. “Where’s all that energy gone?” He doesn’t even need to smirk; you hear it in his tone, even if you were deaf, you think you’d hear it.

This time he looks at you. He watches your expressions patiently with a glimmer of enjoyment as he pinches hard, trapping your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You gasp upon the sharpness of his touch. “Steve.” He had to smile, had to let it show how unbelievably thrilled he was to be doing this to you, to hear you sighing his name because it was real, and he was living out his fantasies. “Kiss me.” He says. You’re surprised he says it. You thought he’d have just taken it by now since you were clearly putty in his hands but instead, he’d instructed you and you had to do it, and you were so eager.

You lean in to close the gap and he’s groping over your chest harder as you inch in. Your lips are parted, his tongue slipping in. The moan that escapes you sends his hips bucking upwards into you. There was some kind of a heaven between your thighs, he’s sure of it because the way it felt to just brush against your clothed cunt was already more than he could take. Every ounce of you was blissful to touch. “Oh my God.” You gasped. “No, that’s not my name.” He grumbles into your mouth. You want to roll your eyes with annoyance but they’re already rolling for a different reason. “When you touch me like that, what’s the fucking difference?” An excellent point, you think. He had to be some kind of deity.

He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, and you whimper. The bite is sharp, and it hurts but your lack of release is starting to hurt more. The build-up was fun, but not nearly enough. You had to take your shirt off, move this further. You start to unbutton it. You slip it down over your shoulders and he doesn’t help; no, he just watches you. His hazel eyes so dark like a pool of caramel in this light. One you could surely dive into. You feel a chill as your bra drops from your chest. You were equally exposed now. It suddenly felt so much more real. Seated in the backseat of his car, 2 weeks before he leaves for a tour you didn’t even know about 2 hours ago. Its sinking in, just how much this would hurt you from here on out.

“We can stop right now.” He pushes his forehead against yours. His lips hover above your own. Hot breath fanning over them. It’s not as soothing as it should have been. You’re breathing is more erratic now. His proximity, you need his lips, need his touch, no hesitation, no-. No. You need a pause. You feel as if you could cry, maybe you were crying. Things were catching up to you, hard. “It won’t be easy.” He tries to laugh. “But we can stop.” He pecks your lip. Letting his words sink in. “I don’t want to stop Stevie.” He could smile, but it didn’t seem right to, not yet, not while your mind is still restless. “Everything changes from here on, doesn’t it?” Now he’s smiling at you; his hand reaches up to cup your cheek lifting your face in his hands. “What’s to change?”

You weren’t sure exactly what he meant; somehow you felt comforted by it anyway. You silently urged him to continue. “I’ve always been in love with you.” He rubbed his thumb softly over your jaw, your face started to feel heavy in his hands as you melted into his touch, at his words. His heart wasn’t on his sleeve, no, it was being handed to you, given with a stroke to your jaw, a glimmer in his eye and a softness of words on his tongue. “The only change is that you know it.” He’s grinning as he reveals his secret, finally able to clue you in on his little plans. You could have told him then and there, just how relieved you were to feel the same, you felt it could wait. As sweet as it was, you need something less precious, he had to finish what he started or so help him you’d vanquish him.

“Take my clothes off.” He’s way ahead of you once again. He lifts your skirt, and you feel the need to correct him, tell him it needs to come off the other way around, he’s already fiddling with your tights. He’d grabbed them, the material stretching over his hands and before you could raise a brow in suspicion at the oddness, he’s tearing them, splitting the crotch for access. You were lost for words, and he was the same. The only difference was that he was silently praising himself for his strength no to look sooner. Where he thought he’d find cotton, instead he found lace. You were wearing soaking wet, lace panties. “You’re fucking kidding me.” He can’t supress his moan at all. You think you may be engulfed in flames, the only explanation for the fire burning you up inside. He. Tore. Your. Clothes. Off. LITERALLY. How can anyone ever compete?

Butterflies are swarming in your stomach as his fingers don’t hesitate to rub over your pussy. You sigh at his touch; it’s not even near your clit but you feel like you might cum. His warm, slightly rough fingertips toying with you. Your mouth hangs open, body leaning into his. Every part of you tingled and yearned. “Have I always got you this wet?” He’s surprised. He’s impressed and proud too but mostly surprised. You could laugh at his outburst, if it wouldn’t reveal just how ridiculously on point he was. “More often than I’d like to acknowledge right now.” He decides he’ll put a pin in it for another occasion because he’s absolutely certain now, there will be more occasions.

Your fingers find his hair, tugging on his roots in hopes to bring him back to the task at hand, you. “Think you can hurry this up?” You’re trying to stay cool, but you’re anything but. You don’t want to beg for it, it felt so beneath you before this moment, but he needed to pick up the pace. You didn’t want to scare him off with just how desperate you were but shit, his fingers, you needed them, you buck impatiently against them with a whimper.

He smiles, pecking little torturous kisses across your jaw toward your lips. His fingers rub over the wet material clinging to your cunt. “Would usually have to work for it.” He’s smiling against your lips uncontrollably. “Guess I don’t need to.” You want to wipe the smug look off his face, but you were already whimpering for him, you couldn’t be more obvious in your yearning. He’s looking at your lips right before crashing his own against them, distracting you from his hands slipping away beneath you.

He’s freeing himself from his jeans and you so desperately need to look but you can’t. You can’t pull away. You just kiss and kiss and he just- oh God, he’s dragging your hips over him. He’s rocking up into you, still separated by the restrictions of your underwear but you feel him. You know you asked for more, but this was really happening like right now. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Your hips start moving with the guidance of his hands. “Do something for me.” He breathes, tone too calm for your liking, when your breath hitches at every little movement of his. His lips are trailing from yours, down to the column of your throat. “Anything.” You mean it, you truly mean it, he owns every piece of your soul. You would walk through fire for him. “Put me in.” His lips graze your earlobe, and you groan, in fact it’s more like a growl from the base of your throat. You’re done for.

There’s no hesitation. You reach between you, hands blindly chasing after him. When you feel the hot, weight of him barely fitting in your hand, you want to whine. He’s so hard, burning up too. He’s hot to touch and it’s so unbearably arousing. He twitches at your slightest touch, and you’d be proud if you weren’t so needy. You work your hand over him, just gathering the beads of liquid already leaking from the tip to drag it back over him. You tug him gently from his base to his tip till he’s hissing in your ear. You focus your efforts, not wanting to hurt him, since he’s clearly so sensitive in your palm, but in order to show him you cared about his pleasure as much as your own.

 He’s pushed his face right into your neck, kissing and nipping, his stubble scratching your flesh as you bring him to you. It’s so nice to feel him humming along your throat. You are ruining him just as much as he did you. Each stroke, each drag of your soft hand gliding across him. Fuck. He’s throbbing, no pulsing, in your hand. Cum spilling from his tip. “Steve.. oh, Steve I need to see you.” He pulls back from your neck, leaning his head back against the head rest, eyes closed, hips bucking into your hand.

You stare down at the pretty cock in your hands, and it was pretty. Flushed red at the tip, uncut and so big. He was thick too. Thick enough to fill your fist and then long enough to require more than just one of your hands. You’d known he’d be big. Maybe assumed, but rightfully so. You’d couldn’t help thinking about it. Sometimes he just wore these tight jeans that hugged him exactly right and there was really nothing you could do but look, especially when his bulge was just so fucking prominent sometimes. Fuck, you were just a girl. A girl with feelings and hormones and a raging crush on the most perfect man.

Your breath hitched as you slide your underwear to the side. Your heart hammered as his tip brushed your entrance. Steve’s cock throbbed as its sank inside you. It’s barely inside and you feel so snug around him. His width a factor but also you, the way you clenched, just so He bites down hard on your neck as you take more but not nearly enough. You can’t think of anything but the fullness. You wonder if he’d fit inside you fully, scared he might not be able to go further, that you couldn’t possibly cater to his size but then he wiggles his hips, careful not to hurt you but he’s still forcing himself deeper inside.

You gasp out as you stretch for him, gripping the leather of the seat behind him. “So, fucking tight.” You were so wet he felt you dripping onto his thighs and yet you squeezed him so tight it was like you weren’t ready at all. “Is it too much?” It was so hard to speak when you held him like that, but something wasn’t right. He needed you to feel good. It wasn’t worth it otherwise, meant too much to fuck it up like this. Your biology could not be the only fucking reason this didn’t work.

You’re nodding your head in response, entirely against your will. You’d failed him. You finally got to take it to the next level, and you can’t even take him. You were mortified. You were disappointed. You were devastated. You’re ready to give up, accept this as the mistake it must be, he doesn’t share the same sentiment. “Gonna try something different, okay?” He’s bringing your eyes to meet his. There was a look of adoration there but also of determination.

If it were anyone else, you’d have been discarded like dirty laundry. You’d be no fit for use. Not worth the effort. But Steve? Steve wasn’t giving up on you. He’d try a thousand times to get it right if that’s what it took to please you, to give himself to you the best way he could. You had never felt so loved in your life.

His cock can’t help but twitch when he sees your panic. “Trust me?” You nod profusely, it wasn’t necessary, but you were so close to losing it you couldn’t be stopped. “Think you can lie down for me?” You nod again. It takes all of your combined energy to pull away from each other. It feels like you’d lost a piece of yourself when you moved away. When he slipped out of you. You’d collided and now been torn apart prematurely and the part of you that finally felt whole, was empty again.

You slipped off his lap, seating yourself back where you’d started. Steve’s shuffling around, removing his jeans completely before moving over, pulling your legs apart for him to slip between. You curse yourself once more for missing out on witnessing him naked for you, but your mind was racing with other information. He hadn’t warned you before his cock pushed past the threshold of your entrance. Instead, he eased himself in. Your cunt instinctively squeezing him at the intrusion.

“Oh, fuck.” He cried when he slid inside, his full length near splitting you open. This angle was better, he’d fit, he’d not struggled and yet, you’d never felt so full. He watched your expression, your eyes sealed shut, lips parted, cheeks burning. He watched you until you showed any signs of regret or pleasure, even relief. He would stop immediately if you needed it. You just whimpered and moaned, and it was filth to his ears. His cock was so painfully hard he couldn’t hold back any longer. He did that to you; he didn’t even have to move either. He’d got you looking fucked out, crying for him and he’d barely started.

“Can I move?” He’s trying to keep his tone calm but he’s breathless. “Please baby, I gotta move.” His thighs are shaking. He’s gripping the seats like his life depended on it and it probably did. Your heart is warmed at the fact he’d asked. It shouldn’t feel anything of the sort with him so fucking deep inside you, ready to fuck you into oblivion but you did, he was so perfect. You nod your head, leaning up to capture his lips in a kiss. “Fuck me.” Please, please, please, you thought. “Give it to me.”

He kisses you back, retracting his hips simultaneously before dipping back in, both of you falling apart. “So, fucking beautiful.” He mutters. “Fucking your best friend.” It felt so dirty hearing it from him like that. But that is exactly what you were doing. Your hands are reached up around his waist, clawing into his back when he ruts deeper, the car starting to rock with each movement of his hips. “So deep in you.” Was he for fucking real? You choke after a particularly harsh thrust. “So good.” You’re stuttering it. Hearing your broken panting is nearly enough to send him over the edge.

He didn’t rock his hips quickly this time, not wanting to overdo it, to break you so soon. Instead, he slows himself. He’s grinding his hips down into you with a precision you’d never known before. “All you can say?” He teased. “You’re lucky you feel so good.” You warn him. “If I could think straight, you’d be done for.” He nips at your shoulder before layering it with kisses. “Is that so?” You whimper when his body lowers over yours. His body is no longer held up above put pressed into you. The new position providing more stimulation than the last. The closeness had his pelvis rocking into your clit. The extra stimulation leaving your cunt clenching and tingling, bursting with pleasure.

“Fuck, feel you tightening.” He’s starting to speak but quickly losing his train of thought at your body’s natural response to him. He’s wincing like it hurts him when you squeeze. In reality he’s just holding onto his load by a thread, ready to bust at the seams. He didn’t think he’d be able to pull out if he did. You probably should have thought of that sooner. He couldn’t exactly ask now. He should though. He should be sensible, should be responsible. Though the idea of knocking you up was not the horror story it should have been.

“Need it.” Your sweet whining brings him back. “What?” He’s losing himself in your eyes. Dark, lust filled and reading him like a book. “Need you to cum inside.” He’s gripping the seats so tight the material is about to tear. Just when he’d worried he’d made a fatal error you swoop in and save him. You wanted him inside. He didn’t have to move, he wanted so badly to stay, and you let him as if you knew. You knew how fucking feral he’d go hearing it dripping from your lips like that, a sultry dream. He needed this, needs to cum, needs you to feel it, everything he’s got, and he’s got plenty.

He picked up his pace, abandoning his previous rhythm. He was going to pound into you so hard you’d be begging him to be the only man in your life for eternity. He would give it to so good you never had to wonder where your loyalties may lie. You were going to be his and no one else’s if it killed him. No one could ever fuck you like he could. “Fuck, tell me you’re mine.” You feel startled by the request. Not because it’s out of the ordinary but because you thought he’d have to be mad not to know it already. Not when the request alone had you cumming around him the moment the words touched your ears.

You felt it so hard, it was a wonder you hadn’t blacked out. Your walls a tightening mess, thighs wrapped around Steve’s waist so tight you couldn’t feel the shake in them, stabilised by his frame. Oh, you felt it in your core though. Holy shit, you’d not cum so hard for so long. He hadn’t even realised you’d done it at all. It felt so unreal that you’d even doubted it yourself. Finishing from a sentence, from fucking without the aid of touching yourself, simply unheard of. Maybe you really were his.

“I’m yours, all yours.” It had never been truer. His eyes close as he lets the words float around in his brain over and over. “Yeah? All mine? Belong to me?” You don’t think you could ever profess it enough. You instead move your hands, wrapping them around his neck, bringing his chest down into yours. You lift your head from the seat, your lips coming to his ear as he slows himself, meeting you halfway. You’re whispers send him right over the edge, tumbling towards his demise. He’s grunting, spilling inside you, hips slowly grinding before coming to a halt. He’s muttering sweet sentiments. “You’re so pretty. So good, fuck baby.” His head is spinning. He’s so blissed out he felt like he wasn’t even with you, he was on a whole other plain. You’d taken him to heaven; you’d actually killed him. What a pleasure it was to be killed by you.

He’s trying to hold himself up, arms on either side of your head. He’s not looking at you, more your bodies still entangled. He looked so conflicted. You try not to imagine the worst. He can’t regret you already. You’d only just ended. Usually, it took some time. He at least should drop you home before that kind of clarity kicks in. Your heart picks up speed again. A panic starting to drip a sweat over your brow. You don’t want this to end like that; it couldn’t end like that.

“Stop that.” He places a singular kiss to the tip of your nose and the thoughts are erased. “I can practically hear your thoughts” He kisses you again so nonchalantly. “I’m just thinking about moving.” You try not to sigh so loud with relief, but you fail miserably and he’s laughing because it’s so effortlessly you. “Probably should have planned that better.” He’s scolding himself and his tone is light and airy, and you don’t feel so scared anymore. He was right before when he said nothing would change. The only difference was the physicality.

“Why couldn’t you be shorter? We could have lay here for a while.” He’s glad to hear your laughter returning even if it is at his expense. He’d take your worst after you gave him every piece of you like that. “In my defence, I’ve never done it in a car before, I’m sure there’s a way of doin it, I just don’t know it.” Your eyes widened in surprise. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He’s furrowing his brows above you. “I thought this was exactly the location rebounding Steve would be going for.” You refer to that dark period in his life where he’d had his heart shattered enough to make him take a date with anyone who’d asked him. When he’d made his way through half the beautiful girls in town and you’d just watched it all happen, unfurling like some kind of natural disaster you couldn’t stop. He gasps in offence. “Sorry to disappoint, it’s all beds for me.” You don’t believe him for a second. He’d had some messy eras. You reckon he just forgot them or tried his hardest to.

“Why have you?” You smirk. “Might have.” There’s that gasp again before a moment of confusion. “Wait, you don’t have a car.” He needed to investigate further. “Correct.” He’s thinking. “Matt didn’t have a car either.” Of course, only he would mention your only ex immediately after your first time together. Very on brand for him. “Did you fuck in my car?” You struggle to contain your laughter. “No! What the fuck?” You shoved him, harder than you’d intended to but he didn’t mind it. It didn’t hurt and quite frankly, he was simply happy to be touched. “Thank God, that would have been awkward.” You snorted. “More awkward than this sorry excuse for pillow talk?” He pecked your nose for the last time before beaming an infectious smile down at you, one that would make your panties drop, if you were wearing any.

“Not to ruin the moment or anything but uh, will you drive me home now?” He’s suddenly reminded of the purpose of this entire event. He was apologising and giving you a lift home. “That’s why we fucked then, just wanted that trip.” You nodded along with him. “Mmhmm, didn’t bring my purse, gotta pay my way somehow.” He rolled his eyes. He’s amazed by you. You manage to make his heart pound and dick throb all from making jokes with him still buried inside you. “You fuck all your taxi drivers?” You shrugged the best you can beneath him, whole body jolting a little, reminding both of you of your predicament. He was very much still inside you. “Only the hot ones.”

It takes you both a little time to redress yourselves. The moment he pulls out you’re sighing and missing the feeling of him there. He was just as devastated to leave you empty, the sight of his finish leaking from you certainly made up for the fact though. You don’t miss your opportunity to check him out this time. Seeing his cock in your hand was lovely, seeing his entire naked body, shit. His shoulders were so broad and so freckled. Moles were splattered across every inch of him as if god had sat and flicked a paint brush against his skin for hours on end to correct each placement. He was so tan too, even when it wasn’t particularly hot out, he maintained the soft glow. He was a work of art in every manner of the word. “You’re so pretty, you know that?” He’s knelt in front of you stark naked and yet it’s your words that bring him to blushing. “You might have mentioned it.”

Once he’s dressed his bottom half, he moved to help you. He’d gathered as many items of clothing as he could, your shirt and your vest, your bra was certainly gone forever and even if he found it, he would not be returning it. Finders keepers. You sit up straight, bottom half not moving for the risk of making a larger mess than you already had. His cum very much still leaking between your thighs. You were thankful the seats were leather. You both ignore the elephant in the room, well vehicle, for as long as possible before eventually addressing it, looking to the pool of his cum on the seat. “How bout we get these off?” He tugs your shredded tights. “Can use them as a, um, temporary fix.” He cringed as he said it. He needed to grow up. It was a very sensible idea despite the uncomfortable subject. You work to remove them, cleaning the best you can. “Think you’ll sit in the front seat this time?” You pondered it. “I don’t know about that one.”

You find yourself in the passenger seat just minutes after he asked. Which surprised neither one of you. He was sat shirtless beside you, even though he’d located his shirt. You’d begged him not to cover himself back up. He’d obliged. His glasses are once  again sitting pretty on the bridge of his nose. You can’t help but admire the marks you’d gifted him. You welcomed the eye candy with open arms. His hand reached to rest on your bare thigh every now and then. Each touch a bolt of lightning to your senses. You wondered if that would ever fade.

You were almost distracted enough not to notice he’d made another diversion to your journey. “Thought you were taking me home.” You stared at him like he was crazy, maybe it was you who was the crazy one, too fucked out to see straight. You wouldn’t put it past yourself. “I am.” He didn’t seem phased by your inquiry. That concerned you more. “This isn’t the route to my house babe.” You were certain of it. You drop the babe in for sass, but he quite liked the sound of it anyway. “No, I said I’d drive you home.” He turned to smile at your puzzled expression, lips ready to part with an argument before he cuts you right off. “Never said I meant your home.”

[kamii-2]

KK SMUT PLS

daddy leila

warning(s): smut

genre: smut

pairing(s): kk arnold x reader

==================================

“mmh!” you moaned out from under kk’s hand that was over your mouth. it was 2 in the morning and you were in kk’s room getting closer and closer to cumming as kk’s fingers sink in and out of you at an insane speed, hitting your g spot just right. even though kk’s hand was covering your mouth, your moans we’re still loud enough for other people to hear. “shh baby you gotta be quieter.” she whispered as she left sloppy wet kisses your neck and chest. the kisses did nothing but turn you on more, you were fighting the urge to moan loudly. as you got closer and closer to cumming, your legs got tense and your back arched off the bed. kk helped you ride out the high before she pulled her fingers way and sucked your juices off of them. a few minutes later while you guys were cleaning each other up, sarah had texted kk about how you guys were disgusting. “i wasn’t even being that loud.” you said to kk after reading the message, “welp, you were loud enough for sarah to hear.” kk smirked, “maybe she needs to stop hearing so well.” you shrugged while giggling at your own remark. kk’s phone dinged again, sarah texted for the second time, “i heard that y/n, you aren’t funny.”

==================================

sorry this is late but i hope yall enjoyyyyyyyyy!!!!!! anyway i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋

[nothinglessidk]

a bunch of color practice because im feeling really not good, anyway enjoyyyyyyyyy

[ace-din-djarin]

DID SOMEONE SAY NEW DINLUKE TITANIC AU CHAPTER

(It’s not two years late what do you mean)

I AM SO EXCITED THAT THIS CHAPTER IS FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLY OUT IN THE WORLD! Almost 10k too!!!! @mblogs and I have been on the phone for the last three hours getting it all finished. And now we get to share it with you!! Finally!!!

ENJOYYYYYYYYY

[llocket]

yellow / red pngs?

yes!! of course! here are your red & yellow pngs! enjoyyyyyyyyy

[dashielldeveron]

I present u with… many aizawas…… I have had literally the whitest week and ur aizawa fix literally brings me so much joy!!!! So I drew some of my fav moments (there is so many more I have little doodles for rn, but these are the ones I have for now ;))) I can’t help it that fic makes me feel so many things!!! Peak slow burn… and he’s so worth it… literally this is like my comfort fic. Bad day? Aizawa. I hope you enjoyyyyyyyyy <<333333333

it's beautiful. i've stared at this for six hours now.

GOSH this is funny it's so funny. you really can capture comedic moments visually wow. he looks sooooooooooooooo boyfriend coded drinkig the juice box; the soft gaze and the tied up hair and the turtleneck are really doing it for me. and ohhhhhhh aizawa's distress in comparison to reader's just like whatever-ness is peak; your depictions of reader are like vibes only no thoughts, which is perfect. love it. god, your aizawa is SO handsome. SOOOOOOO pretty. i think if i met him irl i wouldn't be able to talk to him bc of how pretty he is

my fave detail in this his his hand on reader's head!!! it's soulmate pink!!!!!!! the same as all of your blushes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love this so so so much!!!!!

thank you SO much again, really; looking at these doodles has kept my morale up over the past day--had to get a complete thesis draft in last night, and i was going craaaaazy. your art grounded me, reminded me why i'm writing/going to school for writing in the first place. thank you.

[cerulean7567]

OHH THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT YOU'RE PLAYING IT

ENJOYYYYYYYYY

WHAT

[goldeunoias]

saw the Sunghoon reblog n omg yes!! we LOVE daddy Sunghoon!! 😳😳 i swear that word is just engraved in mind whenever i see him😭 pls i’m so sorry if that’s weird! i just know that you’d be perfect! to write a Sunghoon x daddy kink fic🙈 no pressure tho!🫶

SEE ANONIE YOU BROUGHT THEM ALL OUT! asdfasdfasdf

but hehehehe i did....check my most recent posts (this just shows that anons do wonders in making me write certain things LOL)

i hope you enjoyyyyyyyyy

💙

[betterbutbitter]

headcanons about my Drake under the cut ( until i can get his doc up ).

after surviving ( when Riot did not ) , Drake began work on rebuilding his company. Only this time , his company is built of ones who know about Symbiotes and work on research of them and offering sanctuaries.

Drake discovered that while Riot may be gone, Drake is not defenseless. He has an ability that gives him razor sharp teeth and long talons. similar to a symbiote. ( his talons are similar to Alex Mercer's from the Prototype series ).

Drake has a companion. Since we have been shown Symbiote animals exist. ( a friend showed me that Spider Punk has a symbiote dog. THANK YOU MAE. ) Drake has a symbiote feline that is similar in appearance to a leopard. Her name is Dusk.

Drake still mourns Riot's death. And wants Eddie Brock and Venom dead.

Drake was in love with Riot. As he chose Riot and Riot served as a body guard but also knew the REAL him. Not his persona of a CEO.

Drake is pretty fucked up but is morally gray. That being said, there are sitches he will brutally kill. Depends on the person.

Drake seeks out Symbiotes and their hosts. And offers them shelter. In honor of Riot.

Carnage found out about Riot when he met Drake. As Drake told him about Riot and how Riot desired to help any of his siblings. ( Drabble coming soon on my main blog about that )!

[gardenerian]

Ok. I've seen you talk about tomato pie a couple of times now. Got a good recipe? Cuz I'm thinking I obviously have to try it. Also, how do you serve it? Is it a side? Is there a protein next to it and it counts as both the veggie and the starch? I feel like I obviously have to make a Sunday meal out of this.

this is the happiest i have ever been. i am....... beside myself. this is my mama's recipe, and i swear by it. it's simple, all about them maters!

you will need: pie crust, 1 garlic bulb, olive oil, 1.5 cups of fontina cheese (yes, it's a lot of cheese... but this is the south!), three big ass tomatoes, salt and pepper. THAT'S IT! recipe and suggestions under the cut:

first, the pie crust. my mom makes her own but as i am deeply lazy, i use a store bought one 💀

put your pie crust in a dish, crimp the edges, and bake at 450 for ~10 mins (just brown it, basically)

once that's done, turn down the oven to 425!

cut off the top of your garlic bulb, place it on some tin foil, drizzle that bitch in olive oil (1 tbsp), seal the foil, and roast for 30 mins

then, let it cool a bit and squeeze the pulp/spread it on your pie crust (reset the oven to 350 when you take it out)

TOMATO TIME. slice em up and sprinkle with salt/pepper. let them sit on a paper towel for a few minutes so they're not too wet.

now, on the crust: layer cheese and tomatoes alternately, so you start and end with cheese. it bubbles at the top and looks pretty!

AND THAT'S IT!!! pop it in the oven at 350 for 30-45 mins, or until it's heated through

some other options: put some basil in there, or a sweet onion! some people put bacon or a creamy sauce, but i usually don't. makes it too heavy in my opinion. you could put some lemon juice in there as well 😍 also, they look SUPER PRETTY when you use red and yellow tomatoes!

now, as for serving: it's great as a side dish. make it for a bbq or with chicken/salmon/pork/whatever you want! OR!!! make it the main event! it's great with a salad or roasted veggies. one time i ate the leftovers of one with some grits the next morning and it changed my life.

and there you have it! TOMATO PIEEEEEEEE

[fruit-caca]

I HEARD ABOUT THAT ENJOYYYYYYYYY

ITS SNOWINGGG OHMYGODDDDD

[virgyvandijk]

rip right through me

niche au missing scene 1.4k

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Stella whispers. She doesn’t sound horrified, like Virgil expected her to. She sounds defeated, like she always knew this day would come. “You’re in love with Jordan.”