#ouch magazine

[ninjautizm]

I don't remember this but HOLY FUCKING SHIIIIIITT LLOYD WAS CONFIRMED TO BE AT LEAST 9 YEARS OLD HERE AND HE WAS ABLE TO DO THAT??? JESUS FUCK

[askarsjustsoswedish]

Flashing gifs // Alexander Skarsgård – Eric LaRue ’23 Premiere – Tribeca FF, 10 June ’23. [2of2] Ouch! Magazine (x) Thanks Skarsjoy (x)

[ampmod]

I am in pain and have gone on a discworld reblogging spree.

pointy hats

[wormycomic]

[dijonbeaune]

VIDÉO | À table avec Éric Laugérias à la Ferme de La Ruchotte

Pâté-croûte au sanglier, pintade fermière et poêlée d’ail des ours. Voici ce qui attend l’auteur-comédien Éric Laugérias à la Ferme de la Ruchotte, cette semaine, dans le 13e épisode de « À Table avec Bourgogne Magazine » Dans ce 13e épisode de « À Table avec Bourgogne Magazine », Gauthier Pajona et son vidéaste Amaury Lebeault font découvrir la gastronomie bourguignonne à l’auteur-comédien Éric…

[shouyuus]

counting stars

violet; 4,988 words; hurt/comfort, fluff, slightly suggestive moments, no "y/n", wlw (duh), self-indulgent to the point of lunacy, lots of kissing, mentions of bodily harm (not self-inflicted), teeth-rotting fluff mostly, popstar!reader x vi au

summary: when vi shows up at your door, what to do but to let her in?

a/n: bc nothing bad is allowed to happen to vi in my fictional world(s). and also im literally cackling ofc the fic that ppl r the least interested in posted first is the one that i post first; i guess i just like to be contrary but also i want to spoil vi and this is the only way i know how

─── Ⅵ SHE SHOWS UP UNANNOUNCED, split lip and bloody knuckles, leaning against your doorframe on a thursday night; you answer the door in your sheer pink nightgown and fluffy slippers, a bottle of rose chilling in a bucket on the table.

“vi?”

“hey princess —” she clears her throat, her smirk going lopsided as she tries to hide a clear wince. a bead of blood seeps out the corner of her mouth as she sucks in a shaky breath, “miss me?”

your lashes flutter with worry as you step aside to let her through — there’s a distinct limp to her gait that she can’t quite hide with her usual swagger.

“what happened?” you ask, letting the door click shut, following half a step behind her as she drags herself into your penthouse flat, letting out a low whistle as she looks around.

“nice place you got here. fits though, pretty castle for a pretty princess —”

“violet…”

you reach out with delicate fingers, taking slow steps forward; she hisses out a breath, her eyes sharp and wild as a wounded lion’s, her mouth a blunt-edged slash as she swallows, gaze flickering between your fingertips and your face as if she’s unsure what you might do.

she winces as you rub a light thumb along her cheek; your finger pulls away red.

“sorry —” the word rips from her at your touch. her eyes drop, her whole body shakes. “i — i didn’t know where else to go — and i — i remembered seeing that stupid 100 questions video you did here for —”

“for the fashion magazine, yeah,” you say, your voice soft as a baby’s breath. your hand lingers, a palm against her cheek. she leans into your touch, the movement small as heartbreak, but just as heavy.

“c’mon, lets get you cleaned up.”

you let your hand trail down her arm till your fingers link, and you lead her to you expansive couch, pressing her down firmly even as she frowns at her grime-covered clothes against your pristine white sofa.

“i’d offer to pay for dry cleaning but —”

you cut her off with a sharp look.

“don’t you dare. and plus, i’ve been meaning to change up the upholstery forever.”

you grab a bottle of vodka from the top shelf and a box of cotton balls, plopping down across from her on the couch in a flurry of pink-colored satin, inching forward till you’re nearly parked in her lap.

vi’s eyebrows hike as you pop the top off the vodka bottle, a grin twitching at her lips.

you roll your eyes.

“it’s not for drinking —” you soak a few cotton balls in the vodka even as vi’s expression falls. you lean in; vi’s hands find their way to bend of your waist, settling there as you daub gingerly at the blotches of drying blood on her face.

“ouch —” vi winces dramatically as you press down on a particularly deep cut, her lips pushing up into a pout, “not even a little bit? might help dull out the pain —”

she cuts off as you swipe a thumb along her bottom lip, breath hitching as you frown slightly, making to tug away for a fresh cotton ball.

“don’t — don’t leave —” her voice comes out harsh, desperate. you still, expression softening impossibly.

“i’m not,” you say, patient. she finds her fingers digging into your hips but you only smile. “i’m not going anywhere. promise. but i do need another cotton ball.”

she worries at her bottom lip, and already, you can see the fresh blood collecting in at the corner of her mouth. you press back into her space, wiping the blood away. her entire body slants towards you, her shoulders tight, her arms flexed, as if she’s bracing for a punch or a kiss.

you nudge her nose with yours, lifting up ever so slightly to press your lips to her forehead.

the dam breaks — all the pieces falling, her head tipping forward onto your shoulder, her hands wrapping around you tight, and then tighter. you feel yourself being hauled into her lap as she buries her face in the crook of your neck, a sound caught halfway between a gasp and a sob wrenching from her throat.

“f-fuck — shit —”

there’s heat to her skin, the roughness of her bandages, fraying at the edges, the worn-in material of her pants, the damp streaks of her hair tickling your cheek. her breath is uneven as it splays out against your collarbones, and when she finally tugs away to wipe at her face with the back of her hand, looking anywhere but at you, her lashes blink away wet.

“sorry — god this must be real sexy, right? mm — fuck —” she sniffles, shaking out her hand, her other one coming up to caress your cheek. her gaze is unfocused even as she skims her fingers over your skin. “god, you’re so soft. it’s like you’re made of — of marshmallows or something —”

you catch her hand with a tiny sigh, letting your gaze flicker over the bloodied bandages before you rub a thumb along an unmarred patch of skin.

“and you can be too. if you ever wanted to learn.”

she goes quiet then, the bravado bleeding from her as you continue your quiet work of cleaning all her varied injuries, disinfecting the cuts and bandaging the bruises. for the most part, she stays quiet, offering up the bloodied parts of herself for your perusal without resistance. it’s only when you shift back or make to tug away for a second that she jerks forward, resolute in her all-consuming need to keep you close.

“there. that’s about as much as i can do right now,” you say, heaving a sigh as you brush away several strands of black-pink hair from her face, letting your thumb skim over the tattoo on her cheek.

“thanks.” her voice comes out slightly hoarse, her eyes cutting away from you for a second before flickering back.

“i’d say it’s nothing but…” you let your thumb trail down the line of her jaw, tracing over her fluttering pulse as you work your slow way down her neck, “i mean —” you let out a soft laugh, hiccupping slightly as she takes the chance to tug you even closer, pressing you to her, chest to chest, so that you have to brace both your palms against her shoulders just to keep steady. neither of you mentions the fact that her arms are shaking.

“it was a bad night,” she says. and it’s all she offers for a few minutes, but you don’t push her, content to rest against her, let her run circles into your skin with her fingers against the small of your back, her breaths evening out till she looks back up at you with a wry grin.

“let me guess,” you say, linking your fingers behind her neck, “you should see the other guy though, right?” you drop your voice in a mocking imitation; it sounds nothing like her but it manages to draw out a laugh, the sound ricocheting between the pair of you like an echo till it dissipates, leaving the air somehow slightly warmer than before.

“yeah. somethin’ like that,” she murmurs, leaning forward to nudge your nose with hers, eyes going dark.

you cup her cheeks and let her kiss you, lips on lips and gasping breaths, till her fingers are inching up the thin material of your night dress, bunching it up, her thumbs tracing the ridges of your ribs, the weight of her body pressing you back into the plush couch, far too big for the pair of you —

“v-vi — wait —” you gasp away from her, fingers tangled in her oil slick hair, her mouth trailing hot and wet down the side of your neck. she makes a grumbling sound, nipping at your collarbones before resting her chin on your sternum, her hands still grazing further and further up your nightgown.

“c’mon princess — you got to play doctor, so now lemme pay you back proper —“

“vi.” the sharpness to your voice jolts her, and a frown creases her forehead as she blinks up at you with her gunpowder eyes, her fingers now still against your skin. you puff out a breath, pushing yourself back up to cup her cheeks, squeezing them slightly between your palms.

“i don’t want you to ‘pay me back’ for anything.”

hurt and confusion chase each other in a butterfly-wing flutter of emotions across her eyes before she pulls back.

“you don’t want this?”

you fight back the urge the roll your eyes as you sigh, reaching out to tug her back, this time, it’s you crowding into her personal space, leaning in to kiss her solidly on the lips. you feel her go soft against you, her hands cupping the ridges of your ribs once more.

“of course i want this,” you murmur against her lips, “but i — i don’t want it as ‘payback’ for anything. i…” your breath catches as vi leans in to nip at your bottom lip, heat pluming up the back of your neck, cresting into your chest as you blink at her, “i want this… if you want to give it. and — and i want it because — because i want you.”

she makes a strange, pitched noise in the back of her throat as she crushes you to her, her mouth slotting over yours so desperately that your teeth clack, but when she pulls back, she’s shaking her head, resting her forehead against yours with a sigh.

“shit princess — you can’t say shit like that and not expect me to lose my fuckin’ mind — fuck —“

you let out a tinkling laugh, fingers now massaging the cords of muscle at the nape of her neck. a shiver runs through her, her lashes a sweep of ink and shadow.

“relax… i’m not going anywhere. promise,” you remind her even as she tips into you once more, a whine working from her throat into yours as her fingers dig into the supple skin of your waist, dragging you down the length of the couch till you’re pinned beneath her thighs.

she pulls away panting, your own chest a staccato rise and fall. but your eyes are steady when she finds them again and you reach up to trace her cheek.

“when’s the last time you’ve had a bath?”

the question catches her off-guard, making her jerk back slightly, a frown ticking down between her brows.

“what?”

you giggle, “a bath. like, a proper one.”

one of her eyebrows kick up, “you sayin’ i smell or something?”

you sigh, yet again fighting the urge to roll your eyes as you push yourself up onto your elbows, your pink nightgown rucked up to your thighs, your hair falling out of the messy bun you’d twisted it up into earlier that evening.

“no,” you let your voice linger on the word, pinning vi with a look, “but you do taste like the inside of a paint can so.”

her eyes narrow but she lets you wiggle out from beneath her, your fingers trailing down her arm to tug her behind you as you lead her into the master bathroom. the light clicks on and vi scoffs.

“wow.”

“pick a bubble-bath, any bubble-bath — my favorite’s the —”

“rose one?” she finishes, lifting up the nearly empty bottle of light pink bubbly water displayed on a white marble shelf full of multi-colored liquids.

you allow yourself a blush as you shrug, twisting on the taps and testing the temperature, drying off your hand before turning back towards her.

“so i know what i like. sue me.”

vi smirks in honest this time, uncapping the bottle and wafting it beneath her nose.

“mm, delicious.”

you don’t miss the licentious lilt to her voice, nor the flicker of dark, hungry light in her eyes.

you turn away, leaning across the vast bathtub to grab a white can.

“if you think that’s delicious — wait till you see the sugar scrub — oh!”

a pair of arms snakes around your middle, pulling you back against abs and a bandaged up chest. vi’s voice is hot by your ear as she noses into the side of your cheek.

“yeah? is it gonna make me taste less like the inside of a paint can?”

“mhm,” you say, letting your free hand rest naturally over both of hers, the other hand dipping into the sugar scrub to swipe a dollop of sticky white crystals onto her nose. she gasps, jerking back for just a second, going slightly cross-eyed before a mischievous expression eclipses her features and she hoists you up into her arms, holding you suspended over the slowly filling bathtub.

“don’t play this game with me, princess — there’s only one way it’ll end.”

you let out a bright peal of laughter that echoes around the soft marble walls, looping both your arms around her neck.

“try me.”

for a second, she makes as if to drop you, but she pulls you back into her chest at the last second, cradling you against her.

“alright princess, let’s see how good this bath is,” she says, her voice soft as she sets you back down on your feet. you lean up to give her a quick peck before taking the rose-scented bubble bath and pouring it into the swirling water.

by the time the tub is filled, the room is filled with a thin gauze of steam, and when you turn, you find vi standing awkwardly behind you, watching with one hand on her opposite elbow, rocking on the balls of her feet.

“in general,” you say, pushing to your feet, “people take baths with their clothes off.”

vi’s cheeks go blotchy, and her eyes skitter about the room.

“what, i’m just supposed to strip here and —”

her words cut off abruptly as you turn your back on her and tug your night gown from your body, stepping into the bubble-filled water, glancing over your shoulder.

“you coming?”

vi nearly trips out of her tight-fitting pants, tugging haphazardly at the bandages wrapped around her torso. when she finally steps into the water opposite you, she drops down with a soft splash, a loud groan rolling from her as her eyes flutter shut.

when she forces them open again, it’s to find you watching her with your round doe eyes, a sweet, knowing smile perched over your very kissable lips. she wonders at the heat in her cheeks, at the way it prickles at her skin, thinks to herself that it must be the steam, must be the hot water currently melting away at the knots that had braided themselves into her muscles the past few weeks, but she when she feels your calf nudging against her’s she can’t help the way her breath skids inside her chest.

“c’mere,” you motion, and vi blinks at you for a second before shifting till you’re face to face, her hovering uncertainly between your legs before you jerk your chin for her to turn around.

the bathtub is more than big enough to fit the both of you, and for a while, a comfortable quiet settles as she leans her back against your chest, your fingers dancing up the length of her arms, trailing warm water along her shoulders, tangling in the rapidly lightening tips of her hair.

the dark dye runs off her, pluming in the water like spilled ink. you steadily work your fingers through her tresses, smoothing out the knots, occasionally letting your nails scrape against her scalp.

“holy fuck that feels nice…”

you smile, washing as much the dye out as you can before rubbing your thumbs into her shoulders, feeling the tightness coiled there like springs. she grunts, shifting beneath your touch.

“y-you don’t have to do this y’know —” she tries to pull away, only to have you click your tongue impatiently and tug her right back.

“lemme know if i’m hurting you, okay?” is the only thing you say as you continue to massage her shoulders.

she softens, letting out a long sigh and a small chuckle.

“you’d have to try real hard to manage that, sweetcheeks.”

you puff out a tiny breath before digging your thumb into a particularly tender knot, her entire body buckling away from you.

“ow!” she twists around, eyes wide, even as you cast her a look that has her turning back again, but not before she flicks a bit of water at you, her other hand resting easy on your knee, bent next to her hip as she leans against you once more.

“this is the first thing they teach you how to do in a brothel,” you say, your voice light as you slowly work the tightness from each of vi’s muscles, applying gentle pressure, using the bubbles as lubricant.

“wait what?” she tries to turn around again, only for you to pinch lightly at one of her loosening knots, tutting.

“stay still and i’ll tell you the story.”

she stills, though her breath is still short, and the hand that had so recently been lolling against your knee is now stiff, her fingers wrapped around your limb as if to brace herself for what you’re about to say next.

“most people don’t know this, but i’m actually from the undercity — all my earliest memories are of the brothel, the girls there braiding my hair, or letting me sit on their vanities, smearing bits of lipstick on my cheeks as rouge. i think my mother must’ve been one of those girls once but… i never knew her. and it didn’t really matter anyway — i think… i was one of the lucky ones. at least i always had water and a hot bath when i wanted it.”

vi’s fingers tighten on your thigh before she lets up her grip, sighing as she presses her back more firmly against you.

“i’m sorry.”

you shrug, shifting a bit of hair from one shoulder to the other as you continue to dig your meticulous fingers into her weary muscles.

“don’t be. like i said, i was one of the lucky ones. but… i always knew that we were living a hard life. sometimes, one of the girls would vanish and… we’d never know where she went. sometimes, a guest would get a bit too rough and —” you let out a tiny laugh, “well i got pretty good at patching up cuts and bruises.”

you flatten your palms against her skin, running them along the expanse of her shoulders before pushing down her arms to squeeze at her firm biceps.

“there. how’s that feel?”

vi sits up, rolling her neck and shoulders with a loud groan.

“damn. that feels amazing but —” her expression softens as she reaches for you, running tender thumbs along the bend of your cheek.

“you — you don’t have to tell me this if you don’t want to.”

“i know.” you catch her hand in yours, fingers curling in. all around you, perfumed mist hangs light in the air, hazing out the already diffused lighting. “but i want to.”

vi smiles, nodding.

you take another breath. your interlaced fingers sink into the murky water.

“when i turned thirteen, they started teaching me the ropes — massages first —”

“thirteen,” vi’s voice is harsh in the mist-hung room, the syllables cracking as they reverberate against the slick tiles.

you lilt your head, “how old were you when you ran your first job?”

vi stares, her mouth agape, “b-but — that’s — that’s different!”

“is it?”

she sputters for a few more seconds before deflating, shaking her head, tugging her hand from your grasp to splash water into her face, running both hands over her eyes with a groan.

somehow, she could picture it perfectly, you with your sweet smile and darling eyes, running deft fingers over the shoulders and necks of the unnamed girls at babette’s as they talk you through how to press just so, how to lull someone into your lap, and later, into your bed.

“but like i said… i was one of the lucky ones. really, really lucky — because one day, while i was refilling the water and tidying up the rooms, a guest heard me singing and… he offered me a gig topside.” you let yourself sink into the slowly cooling water, your hair flowing in a soft halo around your shoulders.

vi watches you with an inexplicable expression on her face — half-sadness, half-wonder.

“and the rest, well —” you flick a bit of water towards her; she blinks it away before pulling you into her chest, “you know the rest. or, i mean, i don’t know if you watched that entire 100-questions video —”

“i did.”

vi loops her arms around you, hooking her chin over your shoulder.

and once again, the quiet settles around you both, hanging solid in the air like so much dissipating steam.

“all that to say…” you murmur, turning slightly to face her, searching her eyes with your own, “you don’t have to pretend with me. not with me. not when it’s just the two of us.”

you watch her eyes widen ever so slightly, watch as her lips part and she hesitates over the words hanging at the tip of her tongue.

“thanks,” she finally manages, “for… for telling me this.”

you smile, pulling back to reach for the white can, unscrewing the top.

“okay. sugar-scrub time.”

by the time the pair of you leave the bath, the water’s cooled to a tepid chill at best. you offer vi a fluffy towel, wrapping one around yourself as you pad from the room in search for some clean loungewear.

you return with a large t-shirt and some shorts, which vi eyes for a second before pulling on, her cheeks darkening as she sees you watching her.

“quit looking at me like that…” she huffs as you tug on a loose shirt yourself, pulling on a pair of pink, lace-trimmed panties.

“like what? like you deserve to be looked at?” you ask, voice even as you run a towel over your damp hair. vi crinkles her nose, frowning down at her dirty clothes, piled in a lump on your bathroom floor. you shrug.

“leave it. that’s a tomorrow-problem. c’mon, bed-time.”

vi sighs, ruffling at her hair with the white towel, staring at the gray streaks she leaves behind. she glances up to find you standing by the bathroom door, a hand outstretched behind you, waiting.

she licks her lips before tossing the towel over her pile of clothes and reaching out to take your hand.

your bedroom is dark, lit only by the scatter of city lights from beyond your windows. through it, the city is a pulsing maze of tiny lights and spectral towers. you pause, glancing towards the skyline with a sigh.

“it’s a beautiful view,” vi says, coming up to stand behind you, looping an arm around your waist. you lean into her touch, her warmth, turning slightly to find her eyes just as faraway.

“yeah,” you grin, reaching up to touch her cheek, “you are.”

she turns, blinking at you for a second before your words register. she groans even as you laugh, the sound fizzling through her till her skin prickles with warmth and goosepimples.

“c’mon. bed.” she says, and you grin, allowing yourself to be led to your own bed, pulling back the silken covers, slipping beneath and watching as vi inches in next to you, pillowing her cheek on her arm. you angle your body towards hers, letting out a long, steadying breath.

she mirrors you — one breath, then another, then another.

“thanks, princess,” she says, after a few long moments.

you shuffle forward beneath the blankets, reaching out to wrap an arm around her waist. she closes her eyes, bending her head till you’re nose to nose.

“for what?”

vi lets out a puffed laugh, her lashes fluttering open again.

“for… letting me in.”

you press you lips, your eyes searching her’s. and here, in the dim moon-lit night, her eyes shone like twin stars, bright as firelights. you inch just a bit closer, letting your foreheads press as she shifts an arm to slip around your waist as well.

you hook your ankle over hers, shimmying till you’re hip to hip, your bodies arched into each other, bend for bend. she bites down on her lip, if only to stop it from quivering. you graze your hand up her arm to rest on her cheek.

“you know you’re always welcome here.”

vi laughs, the sound strangely watery as she blinks away the hot prickle biting up the back of her throat. it’s been so long since she’s had anywhere to come back to. and here you are, offering it up to her on a gold-gilded platter.

“yeah?” she says, even though her voice shakes and she has to swallow hard over the lump in her throat as she coaxes your chin up, angling your lips towards hers, “careful… i might actually take you up on that.”

“whatever’s mine is —” your breath hitches high as vi tugs you into her, crushing your lips to hers, a thick groan working it’s way through her chest. you taste salt on your tongue, even as she trails her mouth along your jawline to suck a dark, blossoming hickey into the side of your throat.

“— yours.” you finish, spearing your fingers through her hair to pull her back, your eyes soft in the gathering darkness. vi lets out a tiny, pitched whine as she buries her face in your chest, her body curling in on itself. you rock her against you, letting her grapple her fingers into your nightshirt, clutching you to her even as you sooth your palms over her head and neck, shushing her gently.

“fuck, princess…” she says, her voice slightly muffled, “you’re tryna spoil me rotten, huh.”

you smile, letting her pull back just far enough to catch a glimpse of your face.

“well, someone’s gotta do it.”

vi chuckles, the sound rumbling from her chest to yours.

“yeah well… i’m glad you’re the one angling for the job, sweets.”

you hum, letting your eyes fall shut as vi’s grip on you loosens, and the pair of you sink into the liquid warmth of each others bodies.

vi shifts, tucking you deeper into her arms as you content yourself with sighing into her skin, and it’s an almost automatic spin-click of both your bodies, your limbs settling into and against each other, your torsos turning to just the right spot, just the right angles to fit against one another.

you settle, and feel the world settle around you — time itself seems to breathe and slacken, the evening-shaped seconds and minutes ticking each into its own place, like the teeth on a set of cogs, catching one rung into another, spinning one after the other till everything starts to hum into place.

sleep slips its gossamer gauze over your eyes and vi shifts, her lips ghosting your forehead.

“whatever gods up there that put you in my life…” she whispers, her voice tight, you make a soft noise, like a question, or perhaps a confirmation, leaning up to level your faces once more. your eyes open and vi finds her own reflection staring back at her, the shape somehow softened by your gaze, and she wonders, not for the first time, what you see in her, what you’ve always seen in her, that makes you so…

“there’s already a shrine set up for them in the living room,” you murmur, and for a second, vi stares, her own mind quiet for the first time in a long while. you smile sleepily at her confusion, nuzzling her nose with yours, “what, you didn’t know? i’d been thanking them for you since the first day we met.”

vi makes a sound like a hiccup, shaking her head as warmth bubbles through her, a champagne-colored shake-fizzle-pop of emotions welling up behind her eyes, making her head spin.

“well shit —” she grins, tugging you ever closer, “you’re always one step ahead of me, aren’t you princess?”

you hum, carding your fingers through her hair as she settles against you once more.

“mhm,” a tired little yawn, “and maybe tomorrow morning, if you’re feeling up to it —”

“yeah?” vi’s voice is soft, is sweet, is almost reverent as she kisses the skin of your sternum, her lips lingering right beneath your collarbones.

“i could show you some of the other things i picked up at the brothel.”

vi groans, her fingers digging into your hips at the tantalizing thought.

“mm, you mean other than giving people amazing shoulder massages?”

you laugh, and outside, a large neon sign flickers off, tossing the room into a deeper, richer dark.

“yep. but for now…”

“sleep?” vi asks.

you nod, watching as her eyelids flutter shut, and you let yours do the same. your fingers find hers beneath the blankets; your palms press and she gives you a tiny squeeze. you squeeze back and smile.

“sleep.”

[ddejavvu]

i imagine eddie working out in his room like doing push-ups, pulls ups, AND he’s shirtless😭😭but he’s doing it secretly and reader walk into his room and he gets all flustered and embarrassed but reader thinks it’s the hottest things she’s ever seen GOD

this post is 18+, minors dni.

If you had to guess, you'd say that Eddie is a little bit insecure. Not that he should be, you like him just the way he is, but you're friends with some of Hawkins' athletes, and at times Lucas seems to have bigger arms than your boyfriend does.

It doesn't bother you, but you think it might bother him a little. He starts wearing longer sleeves instead of his worn out muscle tanks, and you miss being able to stick your greedy fingers through the gaped sleeves to grab at his stomach. He's also started dissuading you from looking under his bed, which you think is suspicious because you already know about the porn magazines under there. Whatever he's hiding must be worse, and you're a little nervous to tell the truth. You have half a mind to ask Wayne if he's noticed anything odd lately, but you don't get the chance to because he's already gone for work by the time you get to Eddie's trailer for the day.

Eddie had said he was busy with work, so you assume he's halfway across town with sixteen pizzas in the back of his van to deliver. You decide to check beneath his bed, at the risk of ruining a possible birthday surprise, and you trek towards his bedroom with worry set low in your stomach.

His door is closed; that's an even worse sign. He doesn't have anything to hide from you or Wayne, you both know about his less-than-conventional 'side job'. When you twist the knob it opens, but slams into something hard, and you hear a familiar voice hiss 'ouch!'.

You rush into the small gap that you'd made with the door, finding Eddie on his hands and knees on the carpet. He's wearing a tank and his gym shorts, showing off his slightly trembling arms as he stumbles to his feet.

"What-" He grunts, eyes blown wide in panic, cheeks colored from exhaustion, "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" You counter, eyeing him up and piecing clues together, "Were you working out?"

"No!" He snaps, chest heaving with both adrenaline from being caught, and fatigue from his exercise, "I'm- I was just cleaning my room."

There's something undeniably attractive about his look right now. Frizzy hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, red cheeks, shaky limbs, and chest heaving.

"On the floor," You narrow your eyes, "Sweaty and shaking?"

"I- That's not... yes." He doubles down with a huff, "I'm trying to get gum off of my carpet. It's hard work."

"Gum," You repeat, and he nods stiffly, "Oh, shut up."

He rears his head backwards in slight shock at your tone, but you don't give him the chance to process it before you're lunging for him. You feel like jumping him, and maybe that's what you're doing as you push him back towards his bed, your mouth firmly over his own. He lets out a muffled cry into the kiss as he falls backwards, bouncing on the mattress while you kick a foot beneath the bed.

The arch of your foot hits weights, and everything makes sense.

"Fuck," You hiss, crawling over top of him on the bed. He's looking half bewildered and half aroused, already chubbing up in his workout gear, "You've been working out?"

"Yeah," He finally admits, voice and breath shaky together, "I- I just thought that it might be nice to get a little bigger. Like- my arms, my- my muscles."

He seems mortified admitting it, but your thumb is already slipping beneath the hem of his tank top, brushing along his bare stomach. He shivers at the contact, and you dip down to kiss him again.

"That's hot," You decide, both thumbs now stroking at his waistline. His hips stutter, jerking up into your grip when you hit a particularly sensitive spot, and his breath hitches into the kiss that you press to his lips.

"Really?" He asks, lips already spit-slicked.

You nod, kissing his jaw, "Totally. Can I watch?"

He laughs, a sharp, breathy sound, "Babe- mm, fuck," You nip lightly at his neck, kissing the mark after, "You can watch me work out every day if you're gonna maul me like this."

[temporarywelcome]

Please? - Peter Maximoff

Word Count: 3.5k

REQUESTED!

The Ask: I humbly ask for a Peter Maximoff smut, I'm thinking y/n either a: distracts him while he is playing his arcade games, b: using whipped cream to give him a lil sweet treat while fucking, or c: literally any smut of this man, I need him. Preferably him being a little cocky/silly, but when you actually do anything he is a whimpering mess praising you. - @envy-of-greed

I give you... Option A.

WARNINGS: SMUT! oral (m recieve), handjob, mommy kink, praise, reader is a tease, reader is MEAN, sub!peter, dom!reader, Peter becomes a MESS, reader calls him "pup" and "puppy" like once, aftercare, alluding to punishment

A/N: gonna work on a Spencer Reid fluff/comedic fic next

_____

Peter was annoying as hell.

She loved him to bits, she would do absolutely anything for him, but she was allowed to admit her boyfriend was a complete terror?

Y/N was peacefully sitting in her room when her telephone had rang. Placing down her magazine, she reached for it, bringing it to her ear, “Hello?”

“Babeeee,”

What a surprise this was. Peter Maximoff, who usually would just show up unannounced with his super speed, decided to give her a phone call?

“Peter? What’s the occasion?” she asked with a smile, leaning back against her pillows, twirling the telephone’s wire in her newly manicured fingers. 

“Eh, I just remember you saying you like phone calls, the bonding or whatever. So i wanted to give you one.”

That made her heart melt. This little terror was sometimes a complete angel as well. “Yeah…” Y/N replied, “I love phone calls. Your voice sounds so nice on the phone, by the way,”

She could already picture him blushing. “I-It does? I mean, of course, yeah it does! I’m Peter freaking Maximoff, babe. Everything about me is top-tier,”

“You could work on your baking skills,” she mused, remembering literally every single time she would attempt to bake something with him. Flour everywhere. Remnants of cake or brownie batter on his face because he just had to eat some (a lot). Firealarm going off. Burnt baked goods. Every. Single. Time.

“Bitch! Every baking failure is your fault for always distracting me!” he whined in protest.

“How the hell do I distract you? I’m baking too!” 

“ ‘Cause you’re pretty,” Peter replied cheekily, and she knew he would have wiggled his eyebrows if she could see him, “How am I supposed to focus?”

“Stop making excuses for your terrible baking skills. Even if I wasn’t there, you would be a mess,”

“For different reasons,” Peter scoffed, “I can’t bake by myself, I need your guidance,”

“But you can’t bake with me either because you allegedly get distracted. Sounds like you just can’t bake,”

“Fuck off,” he grumbled, making her laugh, “Let’s get to more important business: when can I pick you up?”

“I wasn’t aware of being picked up at all,”

“Yeah well I’m picking you up. I wanna spend some time with you!” she could hear his excited tone that was so uniquely Peter. Everything about him was unique. Everything about him was different and weird and strange and she loved every part of him. 

“Well…” Y/N sighed, “I was going to start on some homework…”

“Boooo! College student booooo!”

“Shit, excuse me for wanting an education. Better than planning on living in my mom’s basement for the rest of my life,” she teased.

“Ouch. Fine. Can’t you do your homework later?”

“I’ve been procrastinating on it,” Y/N set down her magazine, getting off of the bed and walking to her desk, stretching her body as far as she could with the limits of the phone cord. Fingertips brushing against her notebook, she was able to grab it, nestling back into her bed and opening it, “Shit, it’s a lot.”

“Who cares? Finish it tomorrow!”

“It’s due in the morning.”

She could already tell he was pouting, she knew him so well. “Can’t you do it at my place?”

“You mean your mom’s place?” Y/N decided to keep teasing him. Peter was pretty much a loser, not really having any plans in life other than to lounge in his mom’s basement playing video games and eating twinkies for eternity. He thought he was a loser, Y/N’s parents thought he was a loser (which is why they don’t like him much), even Y/N thought he was a loser when they had first met. 

Yet here she was, smiling like an idiot while babbling on the telephone with said loser. Said loser who always gives her (stolen) gifts. Said loser who comes over at random points in the day just to say he loves her (superspeed is pretty handy). Said loser who named his Dungeons and Dragons character after her (however, he was such a loser, he didn’t have many people to play it with). Said loser who would scoff and pout whenever she would tease him about being her future house husband (well, what else would he be, if he just plays video games and dotes on her all day?) Her favorite loser. 

“Yes,” Peter deadpanned, “My mom’s place. Now may I come over so I can escort you to my mom’s place?”

She pretended to think about it, hearing his soft breathing on the other line as he waited for her to answer, “Fine. No distractions though!” 

“Yes, ma’am,”

Y/N opened her mouth to say something else, jumping when she heard a harsh knock on her window. Whipping her head towards the source of the noise, she rolled her eyes with a laugh. Peter, waving at her with his usual happy dorky expression. Placing the phone back down onto its receiver, Y/N rushed towards the window, opening it. “Babe!”

“Missed me?” he asked with a smirk, zipping into her room and right past her, making her roll her eyes again. He picked up her notebook, examining the pages, “Ew ew ew. What the hell are you studying again?”

“Psychology,” Y/N sat on the bed, slipping her sneakers on and tying them. 

“Boring,” he sped off in a blur to her desk, grabbing a pencil, and rushing back to her notebook. 

She didn’t even notice, focused on her sneakers, but when she raised her head and saw him drawing on her notebook, her facial expression soured, “Pietro Maximoff!” she snatched the notebook back, flicking his forehead. 

“Hey!” he gasped dramatically, “Ain’t no way you used my real name.”

“You misbehave to the point I have to like a mom,” Y/n replied dryly, going off to her closet to grab her bag. Brows furrowing, she dug around a bit, “Shit… Dunno where my bag went-”

“Ahem,”

Y/N didn’t even have to turn to know what that meant. But she did, and, not to her surprise, Peter was holding her bag with a smirk on his face. 

“Asshole,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew him well. If she attempted to grab the bag, he would just zoom off somewhere else to tease her. 

“Aren’t you going to get it?” he asked with faux innocence, holding it out to her. 

“Fuck that, I know what you’re planning,” Y/N shook her head, raising her brow at him expectantly, “Drop the bag,”

“Um, am I a dog?” He placed a hand to his chest, jaw dropping like the drama king he was. He should have been in theatre when he was in school. 

“Do I have to treat you like one?” Y/N threatened boldly, “Come on, pup, drop the bag,”

Peter’s eyes widened and he dropped the bag, “You did not just say that,” 

“Well, it worked,” Y/N smirked, grabbing her bag and planting a kiss on his cheek, “Good boy,” She began throwing her supplies for her homework into her bag, unaware of the growing dent in his pants. 

“Bitch,” he mumbled to himself, too quiet for her to hear. 

“Alright, I’m ready to go,” she announced, slinging her bag over her shoulder. He just stood there, eyes glazed over. “Earth to Peter?” she snapped her fingers in his face twice before he blinked, coming back down to society. 

“Okayletsgetoutofhere,” he word vomited, grabbing her waist (with one hand on her neck, of course! Gotta prevent that whiplash!), and within seconds, they were in his room (the basement). 

“Shit, am I ever gonna get used to that?” Y/N laughed, flopping onto his unmade bed in dizziness. Before she could react, Peter dived in on top of her, making her let out a pained, “Oof!” and a “Peter!”

A childish giggle left him, arms going around her waist as he nuzzled into her neck, “Hm?”

“Can’t breathe,”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I apologize, my dainty little princess,” she deadpanned, arms going around him too. Yes, he was crushing her, but she honestly didn’t care, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. She then felt something on her thigh. Felt like something was poking-

Oh.

Oh.

She smirked, but didn’t say anything about what she just realized, casually stroking his hair, “My pretty puppy,”

He gasped, immediately dashing off. Poor thing was flustered, playing one of his (stolen) arcade games, back turned to her. 

“What’s wrong?” Y/N immediately got to teasing him, “I thought we were cuddling?”

“Wanna game,” he replied simply, and his ears went red. Cutie pie. 

“You wanna game? But I thought you wanted to spend time with me?” she laughed.

“You said you wanted to do your homework,” 

“True true…” she opened up her notebook, glancing at his squirming figure, “You dancin’, love?”

“No, I’m not dancing,” was all he said. There were plenty of times he didn’t catch onto her teasing, which was always adorable. This seemed to be one of them.

“Then why are you moving like that?” 

“Like what?” Now he was playing dumb. He groaned as he died in the game, restarting it.

She slid off of the bed, walking to him and wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she said, “You’re acting funny, darling,” she pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, feeling him tense under her touch.

“N-No, I’m not,”

“Oh, really?” One hand reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear before planting a kiss there, “You’ve been acting funny ever since I called you a good boy,” His breath hitched, making her smirk, “I didn’t know calling you that would have such an effect on you, baby. Maybe it’s because you’re so bratty, you don’t hear that often, huh?”

“Stoooop,” he whined, losing in his game again, “You made me lose,” Peter pouted. 

“Hm,” she let her hands drop lower, fiddling with the button of his pants absentmindedly, “You must be slacking, Peter! You should be able to game under any condition, right?”

“But-”

“Nuhuh,” she pressed a finger to his plush lips, “No ‘but’s from you. We gotta practice your concentration skills, my love. They’re lacking,” she unbuttoned his jeans, making him gasp. His hands were gripping the game’s controls tightly, however they were unmoving as she palmed him through his boxers. “Hey,” she roughly squeezed his length, making him squeak cutely. “Did I say you could stop? C’mon, time to practice.” 

“S-Sorry, Y/N,” he stuttered out, hitting restart again. She squeezed his cock through his boxers again, earning a whine from him. 

“Now what do you call me when I play with you?” Y/N asked tauntingly, running a single finger over his clothed length. Up and down. Up and down. Up and-

“Mommy,” he bit his bottom lip to keep himself from moaning. 

“That’s right, darling, I’m Mommy,” She stepped away, confusing him, until she got down on the floor, crawling right between him and the game. “Mommy’s going to take care of your pretty cock now, okay?” Her hands trailed towards the belt loops of his jeans as she spoke, “You are not allowed to stop playing your game. Each in-game death is two spanks. You’re not allowed to cum till you clear three levels, understood?”

Peter’s cheeks flared up and he nodded excitedly, “Yes, Mommy,” 

“Good boy,” she purred, pulling down his pants and letting them pool at his ankles. Fingers dipping into the waistband of his boxers, she cooed, already noticing a small wet patch, “So excited, huh?” she pulled down his boxers, letting them join his pants on the floor. Y/N stuck out her index finger, letting it run along his cock like before. Up and down. Up and down. Up and-

“-Mommy,” Peter whined, “Stop teasing me, please,”

“Oh? The bratty boy is using his manners?” she cooed, wrapping her fingers around his thick length and slooooowly stroking him, “Remember the rules and everything will feel amazing, yeah?”

He nodded, sucking in a breath, “Y-Yeah,” Peter tried to focus on his game, he really did, trying his best to get his character past the villainous NPCs. But as soon as Y/N began to stroke faster, he whimpered, his character being slain. 

“Oh?” Y/N smirked, pausing her movements and making him whine more, “Already lost? That’s two spanks, darling,”

“Sorry, Mommy…” He mumbled in embarrassment, restarting the game, “I won't do it again- fuck,” She started stroking him again, the delicious feeling going straight to his pretty little head. Any sort of sexual intimacy would immediately make his brain short-circuit, causing him to be complete putty in her hands.

“I know you won’t do it again, Peter, because you’re a good boy, right?” Y/N’s lips curled into a little smile, leaning forward to press a kiss to his tip, continuing to stroke him. “You’re my good boy?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, bottom lip between his teeth as he attempted his game again, his avatar jumping through obstacles and avoiding approaching enemies, “I’m y-your good boy- ughhh,” she wrapped her pretty lips around his tip, teasingly sucking on it. He bit his bottom lip again, hard enough to draw blood. 

Peter couldn’t help it, he took a glance down at Y/N, mouth going dry seeing her sucking on his tip, stroking him in a steady rhythm with her own eyes looking dead at his. His eyes widened seeing her take him deeper into her mouth, eyes not leaving his for even a second.

Game over.

He looked up at the screen of his game, realizing his character died again. Fuck. 

Y/N pulled her mouth off of his dick with a pop, making him whimper, “Two more spanks, darling. That’s four now.”

This was going to suck. This was going to suck in the best way possible. 

“Didn’t you say you were going to be a good boy?” Y/N asked, pouting exageratively, “I remember you saying you were going to be a good boy,”

“I am your good boy!” Peter huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Y/N laughed, pressing a kiss to his thigh, “You’re so cute, baby. Now, c’mon, start the game again. You’ll never get to cum at this rate.”

Poor thing panics, starting the game up again. He began spamming the buttons desperately, wanting to clear those three levels so Y/N would allow him to cum. Overstimulation was hot as hell, but edging was terrible (which is why that was her usual punishment for him).  

Her lips were on him again, sucking hard, and poor guy was seeing fucking stars trying to focus on this damn fucking game. He was a good gamer, these levels should be easy to clear, but when Mommy is sucking his cock how is he able to focus on such a thing? He would rather abandon the game and fuck her like a bitch in heat, which is certainly what he felt like at that moment. 

It was torture. Spamming buttons desperately, not beating the level, the threat of edging and spanking in the air. He was going crazy.

“Thats ten spanks now, baby,” Y/N said after another failed level, “I thought you were good at games,”

“I-I am!” He exclaimed, “It's hard to fucking focus when you're sucking the soul out of me!” A pout formed on his pretty lips, brows furrowed as he attempted to play the level again. 

“Watch your tone, Peter,” Y/N glared at him, making him feel emotional. Whenever he was in a vulnerable place like this, it's embarrassingly easy for him to burst into tears. Especially because during any form of intimacy he was baby or darling or something cute, never Peter. Why would she call him by his name? Was he being bad?

“Sorry, Mama,” he mumbled.

Y/N couldn't help but smile softly, being reminded once again how much she adored him. Her pretty boy. Her favorite loser. Being called her titles by him always made her weak at the knees. “I know, baby,” she was a soft domme at heart, she can't be mad at him. Ever. He was her baby and he deserved the whole world. “Let's try this again, okay?”

She waited for him to nod before taking him into her mouth again. His pretty tip was red and hot in her mouth, dribbling pre-cum on her tongue as she swirled the muscle along. 

He finally beat the first level, moving on to the next excitedly. He was getting somewhere now! Soon he'll be allowed to cum and maybe Y/N will let him inside…

Yes, he really wanted to be inside her. 

Y/N began taking him deeper into her mouth, and fuck he felt his tip nudge the back of her throat so perfectly he wanted to cum. So bad. But he won't because he's a good boy and he's not going to cum until he's allowed to. 

That was the plan, at least.

But his name was Quicksilver for a reason and he could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. His left hand was gripping the joystick painfully hard, knuckles white as he moved it around in an attempt to get his character across the map to the next level. 

He finally made it to the third level, sighing in relief. He was getting somewhere. Almost to the end. She was bobbing her head up and down, one hand gently rubbing his tender balls, bringing him closer and closer to release. 

“AhI’msoclosethatfeelssogoodthankyouthankyouI’msoclose” he babbled out, speaking practically a mile a minute. A wide grin appeared on his face once he cleared the third level, “IdiditcanIcomenowpleasecanIcumnow-”

She pulled off of his dick again, making him groan in both desperation and annoyance, “You cleared the level? Good job, sweetie. I guess I can let you cum now…” They both stared at each other, Peter panting and his chest rising with each labored breath, Y/N batting her eyelashes at him meanly, continuing to tease him. He was ready to just start fucking her face and go wild, but he told himself he was going to behave.

So he’s going to behave. 

Ugh, but why does she have to make it so hard? 

“Can you keep going?” he finally asked.

“Should I, though?”

“You… You promised!” he gasped, eyes widening in panic.

“Hmmm, I don’t remember promising anything,” she replied, trailing her finger along his shaft like she always did when she wanted to fucking tease him. Up and down up and down up and down-

“Please?” Was she really going to make him beg? She knew he hated begging, which is probably why she enjoyed making him do that so much. 

All she did was hum, continuing with that aggravating motion of her finger, fucking asshole. 

“Please, Mommy?” he grumbled, hands balling into fists at his sides to keep him from going crazy. Think with your head and not your dick, Peter.

Y/N gave him another mean smirk, “That’s my boy…” she went straight back to sucking him off, and he was back to being a fucking mess. 

“ThatfeelssogoodyoualwaysdosogoodfuckI’mgoingtocumcanIcumpleasepleaseplease-”

She nodded, not stopping her sucking motion for even a second. However, his eyes were screwed shut so he didn’t even notice, continuing to beg to cum till she released his dick from her mouth and said, “You can cum, baby,” with a little laugh before going right back to work. 

And within two seconds of being back inside her mouth, he was cumming hard, hands going to her hair for something to keep him grounded. When she pulled away from his cock once again, she swallowed without a second thought, rubbing his thigh soothingly, “You still there, baby?”

“Mhm,” Peter was a known chatterbox, everybody knew this. But every time after cumming, his desire to speak would vanish, the need to just be held and taken care of overpowering all else. 

So Y/N stood up, taking his hand, “Let’s lay down, yeah?” She knew Peter could not last long, however, he could bounce back extremely fast. Just some cuddles will do, and he’ll be back to either a) yapping her ear off, or b) being hard as a rock. Or both. Who knows? 

She laid down on his (unmade) bed, pulling him down beside her, “You need anything, baby?” He simply shrugged, arms going around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder, “Water?” He shook his head. “Snack?” Fast nod. Of course. “Alright,” she went to sit up, but he immediately tightened his grip on her. “Didn’t you want a snack?” she laughed.

He thought for a moment before hesitantly releasing her from his hold, allowing her to get up and go to his practical tower of Hostess treats, grabbing a box of Twinkies. His favorite. Sitting back down, she opened up the box, unwrapping a cakey treat while he leaned against her again. 

“Here you go,” she said softly, letting Peter pluck the dessert from her hand and eat it. It was silent as he ate, her hand going to his hair to gently stroke the silver strands. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled after he finished, looking up at her with a cute smile, “You always know just what I need,” he nuzzled his nose into her neck, inhaling her scent. “Love you,”

“Love you too, baby,” she kissed his head, sighing peacefully, “So… about that punishment…”

[askarsjustsoswedish]

Alexander Skarsgård – Eric LaRue ’23 Premiere – Tribeca FF, 10 June ’23. [1of2] Ouch! Magazine (x) Thanks Skarsjoy (x)

[cmncisspnandmore]

All Hands On Deck- Part 4

Pairings: Poly!141 X Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 2852 (I suck)

Previous: Part 3

A/N: I wish i could say im back but im not sure if i really am. Life had been really fucking shitty and honestly writing has been the last thing i wanted to do, so heres what i had written before life kicked me when i was already down. Its short and i apologize. When i do get back on my feet i promise i will make them longer.

“What do you think of this one?” Kyle slides his laptop towards you, showing you another house listing. 

This one was 5 bedrooms, with an unfinished basement, 2 large living rooms. You scroll the listing and shake your head. The kitchen was so outdated you were afraid the pipes were insulated in asbestos.

“It needs a lot of renovation, and I'm worried about asbestos. That kitchen looks like it hasn't been touched since the 30’s,” you slide the laptop back to him.

“What about this one Mo Chridhe?” Johnny slides a real estate magazine towards you. The page flipped to a tudor style build, and you shake your head, scrunching up your nose.

“No,” You rest your head on your hand, you glance at John and Simon who are talking quietly amongst themselves. 

“What about you two?” You ask, and they both look at you. Simon and John share a look, communicating without words. You hated when they did that, silently talking with their eyes. All your husbands did it, it was something they developed after working together for years. Johnny and Kyle look over at them and share a look too.

“Oh no you four don't, tell me what you're thinking,” you frown, and they laugh. 

“We’ve been looking for a month, Lovie, maybe we won't find anything that fits all of us.” Simon explains coming over and standing behind you. He wraps his large arms around you, putting his large scarred hand on your stomach.

“So what are you suggesting?” You look up at him, your head tipped back against his chest. He looks down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“How about we build?” He suggests.

“Like from the ground up?” You ask brows furrowed. 

“No from the top down,” Johnny retorts, “Ouch!” He whines rubbing the back of his head as Kyle glares at him.

“Boys,” John warns.

“We found a few large plots of land we can build on, that already have water and electricity hook ups for them,” Simon explains, reaching over you and grabbing the laptop on the counter. He pulls it closer to him, his fingers moving over the keys as he pulls up the listing for the land. Pulls up the picture of a plot of land, 5 acres in the countryside. 

“Hmm..” you hum as you look at it, trying to imagine what kind of house you would build there. 

“We can have whatever you want. If you want 20 bathrooms you can have it,"John crosses his arms across his chest. His shirt flexing over his forearms, your eyes drifting to the light green fabric. Your eyes trail up his arms to his chest, his neck and finally to his face. His beard was a little longer, his bright blue eyes looking at you. As you stare he raises an eyebrow at you. The rumbling at your back sending goosebumps over your skin. 

“Baby?” Kyle says his warm hand landing on your arm. You jerk your head to the right where he stands, a knowing smirk on his face. 

“Did you hear Simon?” He asks, his full lips twitching at the edges as he fights back a smile. A blush flushes your cheeks, making them grow warm.

“No…” you mumble, your face tipping down to stare at the counter. 

“You get lost in that pretty head of yours?” Johnny smiles, “something catch your eye Mo Chridhe?” 

“Think she was staring at our captain,” Simons voice is laced with a smile.

“I-I” you stumble over the words, your eyes darting around the room.

“Have we been neglecting you Darling?” John comes closer standing on the left of Simon. 

“No…”

“You sure?” He whispers as he leans in his lips brushing yours. There's a sharp intake of breath behind you, Simon's fingers flexing over your small baby bump. 

“I think we haven't been paying her enough attention…” Kyle murmurs, his lips finding your neck and shoulder. Trailing over the smooth skin there, his tongue darting out to taste you. A shudder runs through you as John's hand comes to hold the side of your face, his rough fingers brushing along your jaw. 

“Steaming Jesus,” Johnny groans.

“Thank fuck it’s almost midnight,” Kyle adds.

“Think we should spread her out over the counter,” Simon mumbles, a series of affirmative noises follow. As John pulls back from your lips he smiles, your chest heaving with each ragged breath.

“Is that what you want Darling?”John breathes his minty breath fanning across your flushed face. “Want us to lay you out on the kitchen counter and have our way with you?” 

Your voice fails you and all you can do is nod. Desire coursing through your veins lighting your nerve endings on fire. Each movement from them sends new ripples of electricity over your body. 

Johnny smirks, his smile smug as he watches you squirm. He loved how turned on you got when you were pregnant. Your hormones racing, no matter how exhausted you were you couldn’t ever turn them down. It had been awhile since they all had taken you together, finding it hard to find a moment when they were all free, the children all taken care of so they could all dote on you without interruptions. The last time had been the second night after they got back and found out about the new babe. The tiny life growing inside you.

John glances at Simon, the two having a conversation with their eyes again, and suddenly you’re lifted off the stool. Placed on the white counter to like you’re the most precious thing in the world, you shudder as the counter comes in contact with your bare thighs. John moves the things behind you, and places a sweatshirt on the counter, his hands going to your shoulders to lean you back against it as Simon nudges your legs apart with his hips.

You stare up at the ceiling, the recessed lighting you hated staring back at you. You gasp as two sets of lips touch your thighs. Both warm but so distinct.

Simon and Kyle.

Kyle’s stubble is softer against your skin than Simon’s. His lips fuller. Simon’s lips are followed by tiny bites that sting slightly. Leaving marks in their wake as he trails his lips to the hem of your shorts.

“Oh,” you gasp, as a warm hand slips under the hem of your shorts and teases the edge of your panties.

“Wanna play a game?” Johnny asks, leaning his arms on the counter as he peers down at you.

“What kind of game?” You mumble eyes half lidded as he and John trail their fingers along your skin. 

“We blindfold you and see if you know who’s touching you,” Johnny smiles down at you.

“Okay. What happens if I win?” You ask, raising an eyebrow in defiance.

“You can get those chickens you’ve been asking for when we move,” John replies, and you smile.

You had been bugging them about getting chickens. With the amount of eggs your family went though it would be more practical to have them then buy 6 dozen eggs every week. At least if you had some chickens you could get fresh eggs every day.

“Deal.”

A few moments later Simon comes back with a tie from the upstairs closet and gently wraps the soft fabric around your eyes. He ties it securely behind your head making sure not to snag any of your hair in the knot.

“Ready?” Johnny's thick accent asks from your left. 

“Yes…” You mumble, your hands clenched at your sides in excitement. 

Suddenly there's a hand on your thigh that trails down to your knee, the skin is smooth and soft, but the cool metal wedding band gives away who it is. Kyle's band was significantly thinner than the others, he had used his grandfather's wedding band but due to years of resizing it had grown thin and worn. 

“Kyle…” you breathe, and you're rewarded by his lips touching yours briefly. 

“You’re right baby.”

The next set of hands are much more aggressive with their touch, they land on your sides, roughly trailing up, pushing your shirt up with them. Exposing your full breasts to the cool air. Your nipples pebble from the sudden temperature change, and suddenly a warm set of lips catches one of your nipples. 

“Johnny!” You gasp, back arching off the counter.

“Fucking hell Mactavish did you have to get us all worked up like that so fast?” Simon's deep voice grumbles, the sounds of clinking belts and fabric hitting the floor with soft thumps follow. 

“Sorry LT, cant resist these anymore,” Johnny chuckles, his tongue flicking out to lap at your nipple, earning a small moan from you. 

Your breath stutters in your chest as someone else starts to pay the same attention to your other breast as Johnny does. The lips are warm but the tell tale brush of a beard on your skin gives them away. 

“John,” you pant, your chest heaving with each breath. Between the blindfold, the anticipation and the attention they were showering your breasts with you weren't sure how long you were going to be able to pay attention and figure out who was who. Pleasure was already starting to fog your brain. A pair of large hands grabs your sleep shorts and panties and discards them. Before the same pair of hands push your knees up towards your chest and your heels land on the counter top. 

A thick finger glides along your entrance and you choke on a moan. 

“S-Simon,” you stutter out as he swirls his finger through your folds.

“Good girl,” he praises, as he regards you by pushing his finger into your aching cunt. You let out a lewd moan, as John and Johnny pull away from their assaults on your nipples to look down at what Simon was doing. 

“Fuck,” Kyle moans and you can hear his hand working his cock. 

“Want to keep playing? Maybe we should make you guess who’s cock is buried deep inside your tight little body,” John whispers in your ear, making you shiver. Goosebumps erupting on your skin. 

“Oh god, please,” you moan as Simon adds another finger, stretching you open. 

There's a moment of pause and you know they’re all looking at each other trying to figure out who gets to go first. After a brief moment Simon pulls his fingers from you and you whimper at the loss. 

The soft sound of a cap opening, and suddenly you can feel someone standing by your feet, two sets of hands help pull you to the end of the counter, your ass almost falling off but the person between your legs makes sure you don't fall. Your body trembles from anticipation and when you're sure you're going to combust if someone didn't touch you right that moment. With one hard thrust the person between your thighs slides into you. Your breath stutters in your chest as they grab your hips and slam into you. 

“Fuck!” you gasp, as they pound into you.

“Who’s between your legs Darling?” John asks, as you struggle to make sense of who's between your legs through the waves of pleasure that are rolling through you. You take a few breaths and really concentrate. The hands holding your thighs were calloused but not enough to be Simon or John.

“Tick Tock love, who is it?” Simon's voice is right by your ear. 

You groan as the person pulls almost all the way out before they ease back in, they were long but not nearly as thick as Johnny or Simon. 

“Kyle!” You gasp as Kyle slams his hips into you, his thrusts faltering as he falls over the edge, your own orgasm sweeping through you.

You suck in a sharp breath as he pulls out and Kyle’s soft lips fall onto yours before he places a soft kiss to your baby bump. 

“You’re right,” Kyle murmurs, as he trailed his hand up to your cheek where he brushes his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Ready for the next person?” He asks softly, and you nod. It takes a few seconds but eventually someone else settles into between your legs, they spread your legs wider and their hands grip your waist. They weren’t gentle, as they thrust into you with one harsh thrust, before setting a brutal pace that had you a moaning mess.

“Oh fuck! Oh god,” you moan loudly. They didn’t stop their brutal pace, their fingers digging into your skin, nails biting into the soft flesh.

“Simon!” You scream as your next orgasm quickly overtakes you, the mixture of the brutal pace and the lingering pleasure still coursing through your body from Kyle sending you tumbling over the edge far faster than normal.

“Fuck you’re so tight, so wet for me.” Simon grunts as he slams into you. It only takes him a few moments to find his own release, Simon leans over you and kisses you, his arms on either side of your head, His lips brush yours and you sigh softly. 

“You’re such a good girl,” Simon mumbles against your lips before he pulls away and slips out of you. Your entire body trembles as you lay on the counter, your skin slick with a thin veil of sweat as you wait for the next person. 

“Can you handle anymore” John's rough voice is in your ear. His breath tickles the side of your face as he talks.

“I-I don't know,” you mumble, your entire body felt like jello.

“Did we become too much for you Darling? I thought you could handle all of us?” John presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“I don't think she can, such a shame,” Kyle chimes in. his hands brushing across your thigh.

“You can handle it Lovie,” Simon coos, his large hand trailing down your chest as he tweaks one of your nipples. Your back arches off the counter and you moan loudly. 

Without warning there's someone gripping your thighs and pulling them apart, their rough hands digging into the soft flesh, and you wouldn't be surprised if you had bruises after. A moment later they bottom out inside of you. Your thighs shake as they move, their thrusts are softer than Simons but there's a controlled restraint in them. Almost as if they are afraid it really is too much for you. “Johnny, don't hold back,” you moan. 

“Ah fuck,” Johnny groans as he thrusts back into you harder. His hands digging into your thighs to hold you in place. “Fuck youre so tight for me, so wet.”

As Johnny continues his brutal pace someone undoes the tie around your eyes and you blink as your eyes adjust. Simon leans down and captures your lips in a kiss. One of his hands on your cheek as his tongue invades your mouth. Your head spins from the sensations, the feeling of Johnny's rough thrusting, Simon's attention to your lips. Johnny’s movements stutter and a moment later he stills completely. His hands let go of your thighs. His palms smack the counter on either side of your hips. 

Your moan is swallowed by Simon as Johnny pulls out of you. He dips his head and kisses the red fingerprints on your thighs for a moment. His breath tickles the sensitive flesh there, before he pulls away. 

“I guess I'm the only one left,” John smiles as he takes Johnny's place. You tear your mouth away from Simons. 

“I guess you are,” you breathe your eyes meeting his. His lip ticks up in a small smirk as he leans over you, one large hand wrapping around your throat for a moment before he squeezes lightly. His blue eyes remain locked on yours as he slowly slides into you. From the corner of your eye you can see Kyle and Johnny slip from the kitchen and a moment later the sound of the shower turning on echoes through the house. 

Simon watches as John fucks you on the counter, his eyes never straying from your reactions. The way your back arches off the counter, the way your breathing stutters when he hits that one spot inside of you. As John picks up his pace he lets go of your throat and moves his hands to your hips. He holds you in place as he slams into you with a steady yet brutal pace. As your orgasm rips through you a hand covers your mouth to silence your scream. Simon's dark brown eyes staring down at you. His pupils lost in the color of his irises. John pulls out of you and catches his breath and Simon slowly lifts his hand from your mouth and your heels slip off the edge of the counter. Your entire body went limp, your hair stuck to your forehead.

“You okay?” Simon asks softly.

“Better than okay…” you give him a lazy smile.

“Oh?” Simon tilts his head towards you, as John pulls on his boxers. 

“Yeah, I was just ravaged by my 4 husbands and I get chickens.” 

Next:

Taglist: @sushiumex @asialovesyou09 @readinggeeklmao

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

If age gap!reader likes to be sassy with stupid reporters ers and socialites that don’t know how to think before speaking. How does age gap!Bruce defends his wife against those assholes that all her gold digger or the guy that called her frigid and boring in bed.

I’m sorry if it doesn’t makes sense, English is not my first language

"So, is the bedroom dead yet, or have you taught her a few tricks?" the director you'd dated a few years ago asked- some fuck whose name Bruce pointedly didn't remember. Older than he was. Someone who had actually tried to take advantage of you... He looked like a tool.

"Pardon me?" Bruce asked, eyes narrowing.

"Ouch," he said, "I know a good divorce attorney if-"

Behind him, Bruce could hear you from across the room. Blissfully unaware that this fuck was even here. Sparkling with laughter, telling some outrageous story from a photoshoot gone horribly wrong. He could smell you on him still from the stolen moments before the party- Shoving your dress out of the way and keeping one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he growled in your ear. "You wouldn't need the attorney if you knew what you were doing," Bruce scoffed.

Bruce didn't need to turn to know where you were. Or to know that you'd spotted him- and who he was talking to. And he felt disgusted on your behalf. You'd been 19. Hardly an adult. Flattered that an older man though you were pretty and smart- he'd thought the OTHER stories were true. That because you'd done a little soft core for a magazine in a bid to pay your bills you were some sort of... sex goddess.

The truth was that you were sheltered. Practically kept in a chastity belt. If not by your family then by the studios. You were supposed to be a virgin whore. To tempt and tease but not actually DO it.

"Sorry she laughed at you when you took of your pants," Bruce tutted, "that's a hell of a tough break, champ."

"She didn't," he protested, looking at his date, walleyed.

"They make surgery for that now," Bruce hummed, "maybe your lawyer can give you a card. He probably helps a lot of his clients after-"

"Fuck you, Wayne," he snapped.

"Nah," Bruce said, smirking, helping himself to a drink from a passing waiter, "you can fuck yourself though." And then he turned and walked away. Going to find you. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. Maybe he should have just walked away. But he was going to be damned if some prick who tried to use you and then ruin you was going to continue to talk about you. Not his princess.

[ledesaid]

Whatcha got there, kid?

—What are you reading, kid?

—Nothing! —Billy clutched the large, old book to his chest.

Constantine's eyes widened, and he took the cigarette out of his mouth. Something smelled off. That book?

—Bah, what a scam! For a second, I thought you were hiding a magazine of dubious reputation...

—I don't read that stuff! —the young apprentice mage hid his face in the large compendium.

—You're twelve years old, kid. I'm more worried that you don't have one.

—It's my history book. I have an exam tomorrow.

—You kids and your school exams...

Constantine took a couple of steps back and, with a simple attraction spell, snatched a booklet from Billy's knees, leaving the boy surprised. It was almost completely invisible thanks to a spell, but not enough to fool Constantine's trained eyes.

—Aha! —he took it without blinking— And it's black magic! —anger spread across John's face as he took the opportunity to roll up the booklet and give Billy a firm tap on the head.

—Ouch! —Billy rubbed his head.

—No practicing that magic under this roof, kid!

—I wasn't practicing it... Just reading it —he said in a lower voice.

—You teenagers and your white lies...

Lighting a new cigarette, the Englishman carefully examined each page... They were basics, nothing lethal or permanent, but there can never be enough caution with these matters.

—And just to be sure, you need to bathe in holy water.

—No! Come on, Mr. Constantine, it smells bad. It must be stagnant by now.

—You don't want to end up deformed or cursed, do you, cap?

With a reprimanding look, Billy shook his head. He had already gone through that before in his first months as captain, nothing pleasant, and although one of his cases had led him to meet the Englishman, he didn't want to repeat it.

—I wasn't going to practice it...

—Yes, and I, Constantine, swear that I will never invoke an arcane circle...

Sarcasm hung in the air; Billy had been caught.

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ The Alchemy.✦ 」

[Quidditch player Lorenzo Berkshire× famous!reader][ttpdm]

Summary:Lorenzo and Y/N shared a mischievous history during their Hogwarts days, often causing accidents and playing pranks. Years later, they crossed paths again as the most renowned figures in the wizarding world, sparking intriguing developments.

Warnings:fluff, toxic past relationship x smut.

Words:6k.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯.

The Daily Prophet's Patronus Parchment magazine:

Sparks Fly in Paris? Y/N Y/L/N Dines with Quidditch Star Lorenzo Berkshire!: Hogwarts Reunion or Something More?

Paris, France -Love was in the air in the City of Lights last night! Our very own golden girl, Y/N L/N, was spotted enjoying a cozy dinner with none other than Quidditch heartthrob Lorenzo Berkshire at a quaint Parisian bistro.

Fans were quick to recognize that Y/N and Lorenzo were Hogwarts classmates, though their paths haven't crossed publicly since their school days. But based on the lively conversation and lingering smiles captured by our eagle-eyed correspondent, their Parisian rendezvous seemed far from a casual catch-up.

Y/N, a multi-talented powerhouse, needs no introduction. From captivating social media influencer, fashion icon and model to brilliant researcher and entrepreneur, she's an inspiration to witches and wizards worldwide. The Ministry of Magic even considers her one of the brightest minds in our time! Y/N with no doubt is the it girl of our generation

Lorenzo Berkshire, has stolen hearts on the Quidditch pitch with his dazzling plays and undeniable charm. As a Chaser for the The Montrose Magpies , he's considered one of the most exciting players of his generation. known as the "most lovable boy in the wizarding world," and it seems he might have just charmed his way into our girl Y/N's company.

A Match Made in Magical Heaven? Could this Parisian rendezvous be the start of something more? The thought of these two brilliant minds and captivating personalities joining forces has the magical world abuzz. Imagine the power couple they would be!

Neither Y/N nor Lorenzo have commented on the nature of their meeting. Were they reminiscing about Hogwarts days, or is there a spark of something new brewing? Only time will tell!

One thing's for sure:This unexpected reunion has ignited the flames of curiosity. We'll be keeping our eyes peeled for any further developments!

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

when the magazine mentioned a special guest for the next photoshoot, but I wasn't fazed. They usually paired me with actors or other celebrities. Just when the office door swung open, revealing Lorenzo Berkshire himself standing beside the manager. My smile widened involuntarily, mirroring his own surprised delight.

"Y/L/N," he greeted with a charming smile, taking a seat across from me.

"Berkshire," I replied, a wave of nostalgia washing over me. We weren't exactly close in school, but we had a shared history – one I wouldn't soon forget. The memory of him accidentally ruining my dress and land spectacularly on top of me, readily came to mind. And who could forget the time I broke his Quidditch broom before that important match?

"Congratulations," I blurted out, remembering his recent victory. He'd just clinched the European League trophy, the most coveted prize in the magical sporting world, along with the title of Best Player in the League. World Champion and the best of his generation – it was a well-deserved title.

"Thanks," he smile, "and congratulations on… everything, honestly. Is there anything you can't do?"

My laugh echoed through the room."Probably stopping you from ruining my Yule Ball dress and dance," I teased.

"Ouch, low blow," he chuckled.

Our manager chimed in then, "Since you two already know each other, and are practically the biggest names in the wizarding world right now, we thought it would be perfect to have you do a double photoshoot together!"

Lorenzo and I exchanged glances, then simultaneously nodded. "Sure, no problem with me," I said.

"Me too, I'd actually really love that," he added, his voice surprisingly husky. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks as I stole another glance at him.

"Great! I'll iron out the details with your managers," she beamed, launching into a flurry of logistical planning. My attention, however, had become somewhat… divided. I found myself stealing glances at Lorenzo, a goofy grin plastered on my face. There was something about seeing him after all this time that made my heart skip a beat. Every time I caught his eye, he'd smile back.

As the meeting wrapped up, Lorenzo held the door open for me with a gentlemanly gesture. "Thanks," I smiled, a warmth spreading through me.

"Do you have anything to do now?" he asked.

I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips. "Not really. I have the day off."

"Great, so can I get you a coffee?" His suggestion was simple, yet the way he asked, made my heart skip a beat.

"Yes, sure," I agreed readily.

Paris, with its timeless charm, never failed to enchant me. Yet, on this particular day, the city's magic paled in comparison to the warmth radiating from Lorenzo. He led me into a quaint little coffee shop, a hidden gem tucked away from the bustling crowds. The cozy atmosphere instantly calmed my nerves.

Fame – a double-edged sword. Places like this were a luxury sometimes.

Sipping on our steaming hot chocolates, we fell into conversation easily. I congratulated him on his recent victory, the European League trophy a much-deserved achievement.

"Being on the best team now, that's huge," I said, genuinely impressed. "I mean what I want to say is you really did it, Lorenzo." The pride in my voice surprised even me.

He met my gaze for a moment, his smile softening. "You too," he replied. "I might tease my teammates about knowing you from school, but honestly?"

"No way" i smiled.

He chuckled. "Almost half of them follow your Instagram like lovesick teenagers."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Seriously?"

"Absolutely. You're kind of a big deal, Y/N."

"Well, you're not doing so bad yourself, Mr. Champion," I countered, playfully returning the compliment. "you're quite the charmer yourself, Half the girls I work with seem to have graced the arms of a Quidditch star at some point you have a thing for models?”

His hand reaching up to brush something off my cheek. My heart skipped a beat as his fingers grazed my skin. "Just a little something..."

He held up a chocolate smudge from my hot chocolate. Relief washed over me, quickly replaced by a warmth that spread through my cheeks.

"Just a coincidence," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"We call that a 'type,'" I teased, trying to mask my fluster.

He chuckled again. "What about that actor? What was his name… Aaron?"

My smile faltered slightly. "Antonio," I corrected, a touch of bitterness creeping into my voice.

Lorenzo seemed to pick up on the shift. "Right," he said, his gaze searching mine. "He was a jerk, by the way. His movies sucks. Glad you broke up with him. You were way out of his league."

His words warmed me more than the hot chocolate. There was something about Lorenzo, something genuine and kind, that made my heart flutter in a way it never had before.

"Yeah, he was," I admitted, a genuine smile returning to my face. "Tell him that," I added playfully, "because he cheated."

Lorenzo's smile dropped. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice sincere. "That's messed up."

"It's okay, truly," I reassured him. "I'm way over it."

The conversation flowed effortlessly from there. We reminisced about Hogwarts, teased each other about past crushes, and shared stories from our careers. Time seemed to slip away unnoticed, the afternoon sun dipping below the horizon painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

"Let me drive you back to your hotel," Lorenzo offered, his voice gentle. The warmth in his eyes sent a familiar flutter through my chest.

The ride back was filled with laughter and easy conversation.By the time we reached my hotel, a pang of disappointment settled in my stomach.

"So," Lorenzo began, his voice hesitant as he stopped the car, "I really enjoyed today. I'm glad I met you again, Y/N."

My gaze met his, and the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine, and the playful banter of the day took a more serious turn. Looking up at him, my heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs. A feeling bloomed within me – a warmth unlike anything I'd ever known.

"Me too," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.

"I didn't want this to end here," he murmured.

My heart soared. The butterflies returned, a swarm of them taking flight in my stomach. "Me neither," I confessed, mirroring his sentiment.

A slow smile spread across his face. "Can I take you to dinner tomorrow?" he asked, his voice husky with unspoken emotions.

The world seemed to shrink to just the two of us. A wide smile bloomed on my face. "Yes," I breathed, "I'd love that."

My smile stretched wider. For the first time in a long time, I felt a genuine connection, a spark of something real.

Tipping my toes up, I leaned in and brushed a soft kiss against his cheek. His breath hitched, and a flicker of surprise crossed his features before melting into a smile.

With a final lingering look, I stepped into the elevator, As the doors closed, I couldn't help but lean back against the cool metal.

Lorenzo Berkshire. On a date. With me. The little girl inside me would have laughed hysterically at the very notion back in school.

Today, however, was anything but a joke. Today was perfect. From the fancy Parisian restaurant with its impeccable service and breathtaking view, to Lorenzo himself, with his easy charm and genuine conversation, it was a fairytale come true. By the end of the night, I couldn't deny the giddy, lovestruck teenager bubbling beneath the surface.

As we exited the restaurant, paparazzi swarmed, cameras flashing like angry fireflies. We were caught in HD.

"I really liked you back at school, you know?" he confessed as we finally reached his car, the Eiffel Tower shimmering majestically in the distance. I perched myself leaned against his luxury .

"Wait, really?" Surprise mingled with a secret delight I hadn't allowed myself to acknowledge before.

"Really," he chuckled. "Though I wouldn't say I didn't mind ruining your Yule Ball dress a little."

My jaw dropped, then a laugh erupted from my lips. "So that wasn't an accident?"

"Maybe not entirely," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "Needed a reason to talk to you and stop you from dancing with that stupid boy. Besides you were always surrounded by your girls."

A blush crept up my cheeks. "I did that on purpose too being angry and act like running the dress was a big deal ," I confessed. "So you'd notice me." Schoolyard tactics, but it seemed they had worked.

The revelation hung between us for a moment, a shared secret from our past. Then, Lorenzo leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. "Well, it worked. And you, Y/N, have become even more beautiful than I ever remembered." His voice was a husky whisper, sending a rush of heat through me.”

His breath sent shivers down my spine. Before I could respond, he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. It was a soft, hesitant touch at first, then deepened, his lips moving perfectly with mine. The world melted away, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the intoxicating feeling of him.

He finally pulled away, his eyes searching mine. My heart hammered against my ribs, my breath coming in shallow gasps.

We reached my hotel in a comfortable silence, the kiss hanging heavy in the air. Stepping out of the car, I hesitated, looking up at him.

"Do you want to come in?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them, an entirely unexpected invitation.

The moment we got into the room and the door closed, we jumped into each other, he kissed me again, pushing me up against the wall. My hands found their way to his chest, feeling the heat of his body through his shirt. His lips were soft, yet insistent, and I moaned into the kiss.

My dress rode up as he lifted me, his hands gripping my bare legs. I wrapped my legs around his waist. I could feel his hardness pressing against me, and I rocked my hips, desperate for more.

He pushed my dress up, his fingers tracing a path up my bare legs. I shivered as he reached my thighs, his fingers teasing the edge of my lace panties.

"You're so wet," he murmured, his fingers tracing the outline of my pussy through the fabric. "I can't wait to taste you."

His lips trailing down my neck. I tilted my head back, giving him better access. His stubble scratching against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. He pulled my dress over my head, leaving me standing in nothing but my matching lacy black bra and panties.

Lorenzo looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and it made me feel powerful.

I reached for his shirt, undoing the buttons slowly. I wanted to savor every moment of this, to remember every touch and every kiss.

Lorenzo helped me, shrugging out of his shirt and tossing it aside, I ran my hands over his chest, feeling the muscles ripple under my fingertips.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispered, his lips finding mine again.

I moaned as he kissed me, my hands exploring his body. I could feel his hard length pressing against me, and I knew that I needed him inside of me.

"Let me show you how good I can make you feel baby."

He picked me up again, carrying me to the bed. He laid me down gently, his body covering mine. I could feel his hardness pressing against my core, and I rocked my hips, desperate for friction.

He kissed me again, his tongue exploring my mouth. I met his tongue with mine, our kiss growing more passionate.

"I want to leave marks all over your body. Can you handle it?" I nodded in response and pulled him to another kiss.

He trailed his lips down my body, his hands cupping my breasts.

"I've been thinking about this all day.“ He squeezed them gently, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. I arched my back, pressing my breasts into his hands.

He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting gently. I arched my back, moaning with pleasure. He moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention. I cried out, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

“I want to taste every inch of you. Spread your legs wider for me." He moved down my body, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

He hooked his fingers into my panties, I nodded, he pulled them down slowly. I lifted my hips, helping him, exposing my wetness. He kissed my inner thighs, teasing me, working his way up to my core.

He ran his tongue along my slit, making me gasp. He teased my clit, his tongue flicking back and forth. I moaned, my hips bucking up I moaned loudly, grabbing onto the sheets.

"Don't stop, please Enzo fuck, you're so good at this," I begged.

He slipped a finger inside me, curling it up to hit my G-spot,and I exploded. I screamed his name, my orgasm washing over me.

He didn't stop, continuing to lick and suck on my clit. He added another finger, fucking me with his fingers. His tongue still teasing my clit. I could feel my orgasm building again, my body tensing up. He increased his pace, fucking me harder. I cried out, and came again, my body shaking.

He kissed his way back up my body, his lips meeting mine. I could taste myself on his lips, and it only made me want him more. He reached for his pants, pulling out a condom. I watched as he rolled it on, my body thrumming with anticipation.

He positioned himself at my entrance, his tip teasing me.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He whispered in my ear, his voice husky with desire. I nodded, unable to speak.He thrust into me, filling me completely. I cried out, my nails digging into his back.

He started fucking me, hard and fast. I met him thrust for thrust, our bodies slapping together. He pounded into me, and I could feel another orgasm building up.

"Fuck, you feel good," he moaned, his lips finding my neck.

He sucked on my neck, his teeth grazing my skin. I moaned as he bit down, my orgasm building again.

"please Enzo," I begged, my nails digging into his back.

“ please what baby?” Lorenzo picked up the pace, his hips slamming against mine. I could feel the orgasm building, my muscles tensing.

"You're so tight around me. Do you like it when I fill you up like this?" He say , and I kept nodding at him he pushed my tears away and put kisses in there places.

He reached down, rubbing my clit. I came again, my walls clenching around his cock, and I could feel him getting closer to his release.

I screamed as I came, my body shaking with the force of the orgasm.

He thrust a few more times, and then he stilled. I could feel him cumming inside me, and I moaned. He collapsed on top of me, both of us panting heavily.

He rolled off me, and I snuggled up next to him. We lay there, our bodies entwined, as we caught our breath. I couldn't believe what had just happened. It was the hottest sex I had ever had.

“Forget about the European league, this is the best night of my fucking life,” he said, a satisfied grin on his face.

I huckled softly, resting my head on his chest while playing with his hand. “Me too,” I whispered, feeling a rush of warmth and affection for him.

He turned to me, his gaze softening as he took my hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on my palm. “I don’t want it to be just a one-night thing,” he confessed, his eyes searching mine for a reaction.

My heart skipped a beat at his words. I had to admit, the connection we shared tonight felt deeper than just physical attraction. I traced circles on his chest with my finger, pondering his statement.

"I don't want that either," I admitted, feeling a sense of vulnerability and honesty between us.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

The Daily Prophet's Patronus Parchment magazine:

Love in the Air: Y/N Y/L/N and Lorenzo Berkshire Spark Dating Rumors (Again!)

The rumor mill is churning once more, thanks to the undeniable chemistry between Y/N Y/L/N and Quidditch superstar Lorenzo Berkshire.

Holding Hands in London. Sharp-eyed fans spotted the pair strolling hand-in-hand through the charming streets of London. This heartwarming sight comes after their Parisian rendezvous last month and now-famous photoshoot, fueled further speculation of a blossoming romance.

Despite the growing buzz, Y/N and Lorenzo remain tight-lipped. Neither has officially confirmed their relationship status, leaving fans to decipher the undeniable sparks flying between them.

A Match Made in Magical Heaven? The pairing has the entire magical world swooning. Y/N, the multifaceted influencer, model, and researcher, and Lorenzo, the charming and talented Quidditch champion – they're a dream couple on paper and even more captivating in reality.

Is it Real? The lingering question remains. Is this a whirlwind summer fling, or the start of something truly special? Only time will tell. One thing's for sure: we'll be keeping a close eye on these two lovebirds!

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

Lorenzo sprawled on the couch, a defeated sigh escaping his lips as he surveyed the culinary disaster in the center of the coffee table. What started out as a valiant attempt at a romantic home-cooked dinner had morphed into something resembling a misshapen, charcoal-tinged UFO.

"Don't worry about it," I chirped, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Those YouTube tutorials made it look so easy!" Maybe a dash of optimism would salvage the situation.

Lorenzo took a valiant bite, his face contorting into a grimace he tried his best to disguise. "It's...interesting," he managed, his voice thick with forced cheer. Bless him, he was trying so hard.

I snatched the offending slice from his hand before he could ingest another questionable morsel. "You're adorable, but food poisoning is not on the menu tonight." A laugh bubbled out of me, the tension easing.

He pulled me in for a kiss, flour smudging his cheek. I couldn't help but giggle as I retaliated, dusting a heart and smiley face onto his face with the rogue flour.

grabbed another wad of dough and shaped it into a heart, a playful smile adorning its surface. Flour dusted his face as I added finishing touches, my smile widening at his sheepish grin.

"Aww, look at you," I teased, pulling out my phone to capture the moment. A picture of the unknown -shaped pizza and Lorenzo, flour-dusted and grinning, filled the screen.

My finger hovered over the 'post' button. Suddenly, a wave of uncertainty washed over me. Was it too soon? Too public?

"Hey," Lorenzo murmured, his voice soft as he tilted my chin up. "What's wrong?" His gaze followed mine to the phone screen.

"I was just...thinking," I admitted.

"About posting it?" A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Yeah," I mumbled. "Is it weird?"

He shook his head, his smile widening. "Absolutely not. Post it. Put a million red hearts on it, let the world know you have a boyfriend."

The playful jab sent a blush creeping up my cheeks. "Boyfriend, huh?" I teased, a shy smile gracing my lips.

He leaned in, his eyes holding mine. "I'm whatever you want me to be, Y/N. Just know that I'm serious about you."

My heart did a little flip-flop in my chest. "Me too," I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

With newfound confidence, I hit 'post,' adding a caption: > Dinner may not have gone according to plan, but the company is definitely five stars! ❤️❤️❤️.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

The Daily Prophet's Patronus Parchment magazine:

Antonio Garcia's Latest Film Flops: Karma's a Witch, or Just Bad Scripting?

Box Office Blues: Antonio Garcia's highly anticipated film, "Galactic Guardians," has crash-landed at the box office, leaving critics and audiences equally unimpressed. The film, touted as a summer blockbuster, has garnered a mountain of negative reviews, with many citing a weak plot and forgettable characters.

Worse Reviews Than Revenue: The critical drubbing is compounded by the film's dismal financial performance. "Galactic Guardians" struggles to pull in viewers, with its earnings barely covering its production budget. This financial flop marks a significant setback for Garcia, who previously enjoyed a string of successful films.

Karma's Calling? The timing of this double whammy couldn't be more curious, especially considering Garcia's personal life. News of his messy breakup with Y/N Y/L/N, the wildly popular model and influencer, dominated headlines last year. Rumors of infidelity swirled around Garcia, rumors he never fully addressed. Many fans are quick to draw a line between his alleged infidelity and the film's disastrous performance, whispering of a touch of karmic justice.

Coincidence or Consequence? Whether this is a case of bad scriptwriting or cosmic payback remains to be seen. One thing is certain: Antonio Garcia's career has hit a major snag. Can he bounce back from this double blow? Only time will tell, but one thing's for sure – Y/N seems to be doing just fine. In fact, she's recently been spotted with Quidditch champion Lorenzo Berkshire, and the pair seem to be radiating pure happiness. Looks like karma might have a sweeter side.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

Lorenzo dimmed the living room lights, the soft glow of the TV casting flickering shadows on the walls. We were sprawled on the couch, a mountain of popcorn between us, halfway through a cheesy rom-com that neither of us were taking very seriously.

Suddenly, I hit pause, the silence thick after the movie's soundtrack abruptly cut off. Lorenzo looked at me, a questioning eyebrow raised.

"Hey," I said, taking a deep breath. "Can I tell you something?"

He scooted closer, concern etched on his face. "Of course, Y/N. What's wrong?"

The words tumbled out, a jumbled mess of emotions. I told him about Antonio, about how young and naive I was back then, how he used me for everything I had to offer: my fame, my connections, everything but me. I confessed to feeling unloved, unseen, a trophy on his arm rather than a real person. And then, the final blow – the cheating rumors that turned out to be all too true.

"You were so young," he murmured, his voice filled with empathy. "He didn't deserve you, Y/N. Not even close."

His words were like a balm to my soul, the anger and hurt momentarily soothed. He pulled me closer, and I rested my head on his shoulder, the familiar scent of his cologne grounding me.

"You know what the best part about all this is?" I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

He shook his head, his arms tightening around me.

"The best part is you," I confessed, looking up into his eyes. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Lorenzo. You make me feel seen, valued, loved – everything I never felt with him."

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't decipher. Then, he leaned down, his lips brushing softly against my ear, "I love you," he murmured.

The words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. My breath hitched, surprise flickering across my face. Love? Here, now, with Lorenzo? It felt like a beautiful dream, too perfect to be real.

"Enzo…" I stammered, completely thrown off guard.

He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away stray tears. "Don't say anything," he pleaded, his eyes searching mine. "Just know that I do. I have for a while now."

Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze, my voice trembling slightly. "I… I love you too, Enzo."

A wide smile bloomed on his face, a smile that mirrored the warmth blossoming in my chest. The cheesy rom-com on the screen suddenly seemed unimportant.

One night, while he was staying over at my apartment, we found ourselves in a candid conversation.

I admitted that the first orgasm I had ever experienced was with him, after our first date. The confession seemed to shock him. After all, I had dated Antonio for three long years, so it was a significant revelation for both of us.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

The Daily Prophet's Patronus Parchment magazine:

Antonio Garcia's Sour Grapes: Y/N Y/L/N Responds with Class

A Case of Ex-xcuses? In a recent interview promoting his (commercially challenged) new film, Antonio Garcia took a not-so-subtle jab at his ex-girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N. When asked about his ideal partner, Garcia launched into a rambling diatribe about needing someone "grounded" and "focused," seemingly throwing shade at Y/N's multifaceted career as a model, influencer, researcher, and all-around powerhouse. Sources close to the actor claim he's been making negative comments about her to anyone who will listen. Considering their public breakup last year, fueled by rumors of Antonio's infidelity (which he never fully denied), this behavior comes as no surprise.

Lorenzo Berkshire Sings Y/N's Praises: When asked about Y/N during a recent interview, Lorenzo's face lit up with a genuine smile. " She's the kind of person who makes everyone around her better." His words paint a picture of a strong, supportive woman – the complete opposite of the image Antonio is trying to portray.

Fans Rally Behind Y/N: Needless to say, the internet erupted in support of Y/N. Fans flooded her comments with messages of empowerment and praise, applauding her success and her dignified response. Many pointed out that while Antonio struggles with box office flops, Y/N continues to excel in every aspect of her life.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

Today was the day. The Montrose Magpies, Lorenzo's team, were facing off against their fiercest rivals, Puddlemere United. It was always a tense match, but this year, the stakes felt even higher. The crowd crackled with energy, a mix of nervous anticipation and Magpies pride.

I knew Lorenzo would be incredible. He exuded a quiet confidence that was contagious. Before he stepped onto the field, I leaned in and kissed him softly. "Good luck," I whispered, my voice barely above a murmur. He smiled, a hint of nerves flickering in his usually calm eyes.

"I don't need luck with you cheering me on," he replied, squeezing my hand before disappearing into the tunnel.

The match was a whirlwind. Both teams played with an intensity that bordered on aggression. Cheering and groans filled the stadium as players soared and cursed, the Quaffle whizzing through the air at lightning speed. Penalties were called, tempers flared, and the score remained stubbornly tied.

Just when it seemed like the game might go into overtime, Lorenzo pulled off a move that defied gravity. He weaved through a sea of Puddlemere Chasers with the grace of a dancer, dodging Bludgers left and right. Finally, with a powerful flick of his wrist, the Quaffle soared through the goalposts.

The crowd erupted in a frenzy. Fans screamed, flags waved, and the stadium pulsed with pure joy. The Magpies had won! Lorenzo, the hero of the day, was hoisted onto his teammates' shoulders, the golden trophy gleaming in the afternoon sun.

He spotted me in the VIP section and winked, a playful glint in his eyes. As the celebrations on the pitch unfolded, Lorenzo made his way over, a wide grin plastered on his face. He scooped me up in a hug, the trophy still clutched in his hand, and planted a celebratory kiss on my lips. The taste of victory and the warmth of his touch sent shivers down my spine.

Moments later, I received a text from Lorenzo. Just two words: "Come over, baby." My heart skipped a beat. It wasn't unusual for us to meet up later, but the changing room? That felt… different. A knot of worry formed in my stomach. Was everything okay? Had he gotten injured?

With a mixture of apprehension and excitement, I excused myself and headed for the changing room . My mind raced with possibilities as I knocked on the door, a nervous flutter in my chest. The door creaked open, revealing Lorenzo, his hair damp from the shower.

Before I could question the unorthodox location, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. "There you are," he whispered, his voice husky with something that wasn't just exertion.

fingers tangling in my hair as he deepened the kiss. I could feel his desire, hard against my thigh, and I couldn't help but respond. My own hands found their way to his shoulders, then up to tangle in his damp hair.

"Lorenzo," I murmured, breaking the kiss for a moment. "What about your teammates?"

He smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. "They all left. It's just you and me here, babe."

My heart skipped a beat at his words. I had never been with him in such a public place before, and the thrill of the possibility was intoxicating. Before I could protest, his lips were on mine once more, his hands working their way under my shirt, caressing my skin.

I moaned softly as his fingers found my nipples, teasing them to hard points through the lace of my bra. His other hand was busy undoing my jeans, pulling them down just enough to free me from the constraints of my underwear. I could feel the cool metal of the locker against my back as he pressed me against it, his hips grinding against mine.

His mouth moved from my lips, down my neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. I gasped as his teeth grazed my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. "You like that?" he murmured, his voice low and husky.

I could only nod, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps. His fingers continued to tease my nipples, his thumb brushing against them in slow circles. I could feel the heat building between my legs, my body aching for him.

My breath hitched, and I nodded, my hands gripping his shoulders. "Yes, Enzo, don't stop."

He didn't need any further encouragement. His fingers left my nipples, tracing a path down my stomach, then lower still. I gasped as he found my clit, his fingers circling it in slow, teasing movements.

"You're dripping wet for me," he murmured, his voice full of satisfaction “You're my favorite addiction. I can't get enough of you."

His fingers slid lower, parting my folds, then entering me in one swift movement. I cried out, my back arching off the locker as he began to thrust them in and out, each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.

"Yes, just like that," I I moaned, my hips bucking against his hand.

He continued to fuck me with his fingers, his thumb still teasing my clit. I could feel myself growing closer and closer to the edge, my body tensing with each thrust.

"The way you look at me when I touch you drives me wild. Keep those eyes on me,"

His words sent me over the edge. I cried out, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave. I could feel myself clenching around his fingers, my body shaking with the force of my release.

Lorenzo didn't give me a chance to catch my breath. He pulled his fingers out of me, his lips curling into a wicked smile as he brought them to his mouth, tasting my release.

“ I love how you moan when I do this. You're mine, all mine." he murmured.

Before I could recover, he was pushing me back against the locker, his hips grinding against mine. I could feel his cock, hard and hot, pressed against my entrance.

"Do you want me to take you right here, right now?"he asked, his voice low and husky.

I could only nod, my breath coming in short gasps. I was more than ready. I needed him inside me, filling me up, claiming me as his own.

He didn't make me wait any longer. With one swift thrust, he was inside me, his cock filling me up completely. I cried out, my back arching off the locker as he began to thrust in and out, each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.

I could feel myself growing closer and closer to another orgasm, my body tensing with each thrust.

He didn't hold back. His thrusts grew harder, faster, his cock hitting that spot inside me that drove me wild. I could feel myself teetering on the edge, my body begging for release.

“I want you to say my name when you come. Let me hear how good I make you feel."

I cried out, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave. I could feel myself clenching around his cock, my body shaking with the force of my release.

Lorenzo followed me over the edge, his own orgasm ripping through him. I could feel him pulse inside me, filling me up with his release.

He collapsed against me, his breathing ragged. I could feel his heart racing, matching my own.

His lips finding mine once more.

My body still trembling with the aftershocks of my orgasm. I had never experienced anything like that before, and I knew that I would never forget it.

"I never knew public places could be this thrilling," I whispered, still caught in the haze of pleasure.

Lorenzo smiled, his eyes full of affection. "Don’t worry I have a lot of in my mind for you " he promised, his lips claiming mine in another searing kiss.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

[supernovafics]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 5.6k words

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, “the beatles” slander (sorry?), just a lil bit of angst

summary: in which you force you and steve to have a housewarming party

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fall 1985

“Oh no, you’re playing The Beatles at full volume... On a scale of one to ten, how worried should I be for you right now?” 

Hearing Steve’s voice right then put a timestamp on how long you’d been in your current position— lying in the dark on the couch in the living room of your shared apartment, an oversized hoodie, which just so happened to be Steve’s, covering your body; even the hood was pulled over your head because you wanted to feel completely cocooned. 

He finished his shift at Family Video at seven and the drive usually took no more than twenty minutes, and you’d gotten home from your last class around five. That meant you’d been sulking for over two hours. A part of you felt a bit disappointed in yourself. 

Not enough to stop sulking and get up from the couch, though. 

Steve flicked on the light, which made you groan and pull on the strings of the hoodie so that your eyes were covered too, and then he walked over to where the record player sat atop a low shelf that was full of books, magazines, and random trinkets including a pink piggy bank that contained stray arcade tokens rather than actual money. He turned off the record player, putting a stop to the Abbey Road vinyl that you had been playing on repeat for hours. You absolutely detested The Beatles so whenever you were in a melancholic mood, it felt only right to play their music.

“Our neighbors probably hate us now,” Steve said as he joined you on the couch, moving your legs for a moment so that he could sit down and then placing them over his lap. “If we don’t get the cookie basket from Miss Johnson for Christmas, I fully blame you.” 

He expected that to get a laugh or at least a smile out of you. The mention of the sweet old woman a few doors down who had given you two a welcome basket full of freshly baked muffins when you moved in and then promised to bring you the cookies that she always made and gave to people in the building during the holidays. 

You didn’t do either of those things though. Your mouth felt too stuck in a straight line to even think about smiling. Therefore, you instead disregarded everything Steve had said since he’d entered the apartment and mumbled, “Why are guys such idiots?” 

He placed a hand over his heart as if he’d just been wounded. “Ouch.”

You pulled the hood off your head and then propped yourself up by your elbows to finally look at him. “Obviously, you’re the exception.” You then thought about your words for a brief moment. “Well, sometimes.”

“Double ouch,” He said. “But yes, guys are idiots. Which one are you talking about, in particular? Charlie?” 

You sighed and looked away. “Sadly.” 

“He’s lasted longer than I expected,” Steve told you. He fully thought that the crush you had on this guy from your early morning Statistics class wouldn’t stem past a few weeks.

“At this point, I wish I didn’t like him anymore,” You responded and then looked at Steve again, a small amused smile gracing your lips as you thought of something. “Any hot people come into Family Video lately?” 

Steve simply laughed and shook his head at you.

It was almost too easy for you to develop a crush on someone. So much so that many of them you wouldn’t even mention to Steve or your other friends because of how fast they’d come and go. 

Most of the time, the inevitable abrupt ending of the crushes would leave you feeling something adjacent to heartbreak because most of the guys you’d ended up liking were, in fact, idiots, or you’d feel disappointment because your feelings never lived up to how they were at the beginning of the crush. But there was always still something about the idea of liking someone that was surprisingly fun to you. You wouldn’t necessarily call yourself a hopeless romantic, but it sometimes felt as if you were exactly that.

You finally sat up from the couch and moved close to Steve. “Okay, spare me the supportive best friend ‘we’ve known each other since we were ten and I only want the best for you’ spiel for a few moments and just answer a quick question for me, okay?” 

Although he was completely confused and would’ve killed for more context, Steve nodded at your current antics. “Okay.” 

“If we had just finished a really hard test, and you were worried about how you did on it, and I did this,” You grabbed his hand, linking it with yours and giving him the sweetest smile that was typically only reserved for when you were hardcore flirting with someone. “While saying ‘I’m sure you did great,’ you would understand that I have a massive crush on you, right?”

He glanced down at your intertwined hands for a brief moment before ultimately nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I would.”

“Exactly,” You said as you dropped Steve’s hand and then slumped back against the couch. “So Charlie pulling away— no smile back or anything— and simply saying, ‘Thanks. You probably did good too,’ in response to that means either he can’t read my stupidly obvious flirting cues, or he’s not into me. And, honestly, I’m almost certain it’s the second one.” Suddenly you were hit with a fresh wave of sadness and you pulled the hood over your head once again. “Please put back on The Beatles and let me wallow in peace for the rest of the night. I promise I’ll be better by the morning.” 

“I’d rather hear Harold running on his squeaky wheel all night than The Beatles on repeat,” He said and you actually perked up at the mention of the pet you two had gotten only a few months ago, barely a week after you’d fully moved into the apartment, the brown and white furry creature formally known as “Harold the Hamster.” 

Currently, he was sleeping only a few feet away in his cage that sat on the coffee table. Somehow he managed to be completely unbothered by the music you’d been loudly playing. 

“Okay, how about this,” Steve started. “Let’s order a pizza from that place close by. I’ll even suffer and let you put olives on it.”

You pushed the hood off your head again so that you could look at your best friend, only slightly intrigued by what he was saying. “Keep talking…”

“And then we’ll watch The Breakfast Club because you love it and you immediately rented it out from Family Video when we got it in,” He continued and you perked up even more at the mention of one of your favorite movies. “Which, by the way, is a copy that is weeks overdue and has probably racked up an insane amount of late fees at this point.”

You smiled at him. “Good thing I know someone who works there. And he would never let me pay any late fees.”

“Wow, he sounds like a great guy.”

You shrugged as you looked away from Steve. “Meh, he’s alright.” 

He immediately poked your side, causing you to laugh loudly. “I’m gonna make you pay all of the late fees now.”

“That’s very evil,” You said with a shake of your head, but you were still laughing because you knew that he wasn’t being serious. 

Steve ordered the pizza as you put the Breakfast Club tape in and then you both settled on the couch again. You had probably watched the movie five times since you rented it, but somehow you hadn’t grown tired of it yet. Instead, it managed to effectively take your mind off of Charlie and the entire situation with him, at least for the time being. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steve may have been the one who worked at Family Video, but you knew that place so well it was almost as if you worked there too. His almost never-changing schedule was practically seared into your brain, and you knew the exact times the place was always busy and the moments when it was pretty much dead aside from a handful of random customers.   

Somehow Fridays at noon were one of the store’s emptiest times. 

Steve was standing behind the counter sorting through movies on a cart when you walked in. 

“Hello,” You smiled at him. “I come bearing one not-at-all overdue copy of The Breakfast Club and very fun news.” 

Steve was quick to smile back when he saw you, but it dropped when it seemed as if he remembered something. “Shouldn’t you be in your Psychology class right now?” Just like you knew his schedule like the back of your hand, he knew yours. “Your parents will find a way to blame me if you’ve dropped out of school, y’know.”

“My professor canceled last minute; her sister went into labor. So, don’t worry, you won’t be hearing any sort of lecture from my parents,” You answered as you dug in your bag for the movie. 

Steve grabbed it from your outstretched hand and placed it on the cart before looking back at you. “What's your news?” 

“Okay, so remember when we were ten and on that cruise, and you liked this random girl from New Jersey— Rebecca, I’m pretty sure her name was?” You said. “She was sixteen, completely unattainable, but I still tried to help you talk to her.” 

That cruise was actually when you and Steve met. It was a very weird serendipitous kind of moment where your parents bumped into his at the buffet one of the first few days and found out that they not only lived in Indiana, but in a town that was two over from yours, and they even had a son that was the same age as you. 

You had been somewhere sitting by the pool when this romcom-esque “meet cute” happened, but when your parents found you, they introduced you to Steve. Although at first, it felt like a friendship that was being forced upon you both, it was still nice to have someone other than your parents— actually, someone better than your parents— to hang out with on the ten-day trip. 

You beat him countless times at air hockey at the arcade onboard and the two of you spent most of the nights successfully sneaking into the “club” that was only meant for kids fifteen and up— which was where his crush on Rebecca began and subsequently ended.

“Yes, I remember that, not my finest moment. But, I also don’t blame her, it probably would’ve been weirder if she wanted to flirt back to a ten-year-old,” Steve responded and then furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, I’m confused, though. Is your news that you found her or something?” 

You immediately shook your head at his question. “No, what I’m gonna say actually has nothing to do with that, but I wanted to remind you of how supportive I was of you during that time, and how supportive you should be of me right now with what I’m about to say.”

“I’ll always support you,” He didn’t hesitate to tell you. “Unless you’re pitching the matching tattoos idea again. And then, in that case, I guess our decade-long friendship will have to end here.” 

“One day I’ll eventually convince you to do it; mark my words. And the tattoo will be one of those stupidly cringey ones where we each get a flower with the other person’s name blooming out of it.” 

Steve did nothing but groan and shake his head at you, which only made you laugh. 

“But, anyway, my actual news is that we’re having a party tonight,” You said and then continued before he could say anything in response just yet. “Kind of like a housewarming party. I realized that we never really had one.” 

“We did have one.”

You shook your head and let out a sound that was a cross between a scoff and a laugh. “Robin and Eddie coming over on our first night and all of us smoking weed on the fire escape and then falling asleep on our mattresses in the living room because we didn’t have any furniture yet did not count as our housewarming party.”

Steve laughed a bit. “It was very fun, though.” 

“It was great,” You agreed with a nod. “But, not an actual party, so that's why we're having one tonight.” 

Steve only looked at you for a moment and you knew that he was trying to read you. He was the only person that you were certain could completely see through you— he could tell what you were feeling even when it was too hard for you to put those muddled thoughts into words, and he could see right through all of the bullshit you’d spew at times. Sometimes it annoyed you, but most times it felt nice to be so completely seen and understood.

It only took a second for things to seemingly click into place for him. “Is all of this about Charlie?” 

“No,” You immediately answered, but you didn’t even sound convincing to yourself. 

Of course, Steve didn’t believe you at all and he didn’t have to verbally say that for you to know, the unspoken words were clear in the deadpan look he gave you. 

“Okay, fine. Yes, it is,” You said and then sighed as you leaned against the counter. “I saw him today and he said that he was planning to go to this party tonight and he wasn’t that excited about it, but it’s better than doing nothing on a Friday. And then for some insane reason, I blurted out that he should come to my party tonight instead. In hindsight, I probably should’ve immediately backtracked when I said that, but I didn’t and instead, this whole “housewarming party” plan was born.”

“Is there any way I can say no to this?” Steve asked and you quickly shook your head. 

“Sorry, but no. Remember what happened on the cruise. Remember how I tried to be helpful with Rebecca,” You told him as you walked around so that you were behind the counter with him. You began sifting through the cart which was full of movies that people had just returned. “And honestly, I just wanna use this party as a last-ditch effort to see if he likes me, and if not then I’ll just make out with someone else at the party to get over him. So, actually, this is a win-win situation no matter what, and this party needs to happen.”

Steve only sighed in response at first, which made you look at him again. He then was quiet for a moment before ultimately nodding and plastering on the brightest and fakest smile you’d probably ever seen from him. “Okay, fine, let’s throw the best two months late housewarming party ever.”

You smiled back at him. “Thank you.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

There were a lot of things Steve wanted to tell you.

One of the main things being how even though he hadn’t met him yet, he knew that Charlie definitely didn’t deserve you basically throwing a whole party for him just for you to see if he liked you back. Also, how actually most of the guys you ended up crushing on didn’t deserve your attention for a second. 

However, he knew that he couldn’t tell you any of that. Not when you’d been there through his ups and downs when it came to dating, and not when you were always supportive; even though a lot of the time it was easy to tell that you weren’t the biggest fan of the girls he went out with.

Early on in your friendship, it was unspokenly decided that bearing through each other’s plethora of shitty relationships just came with the territory of being best friends, and whenever things inevitably went downhill you’d both just be there for each other to pick up the metaphoric pieces.

However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t internally roll his eyes when about an hour into the party he finally did meet Charlie. It was a brief interaction where you introduced them when he entered the apartment and then Steve almost immediately walked away because he knew that you wanted to be alone with Charlie. Well, as “alone” as you two could be with a party that was in full swing around you. 

Your shared apartment quickly became full of at least forty people. It was a mix of people from your classes, the small handful of people from high school that you still sometimes talked to, a bunch of people that Steve knew, and anyone else that Robin and Eddie also wanted to invite. For a party thrown together at the last possible second, you both had to admit that it was a pretty solid turnout.

And also for a party that Steve hadn’t really wanted to have in the first place, he was actually having a good time. He was playing a drinking game version of Uno with Robin and a few others circled around the coffee table; Harold’s cage was placed next to him on the couch for the time being. 

After a second round in a row where Robin won— she was always crazy good at the game— Steve wanted to ask you to join because he knew how much you loved the game, even though you were very bad at it. He was even tipsy enough that he would’ve been fine with Charlie joining in as well.

He looked around, trying to find you, and it was something that should’ve happened in seconds. No matter what, it was always somehow easy to spot each other in any sort of crowded room— how effortless it always was almost felt equivalent to some weird kind of party trick. However, this time, Steve couldn’t find you. 

At first, he thought that that meant that things were going well with Charlie, but when he eventually spotted him standing in the kitchen talking and smiling at a girl who was definitely not you, he had a feeling that things had probably gone the opposite.

“I’m gonna sit out this round,” Steve said to Robin as he got up from the couch. 

The short walk to your bedroom was more difficult than expected because maneuvering through all of the people in the apartment proved to be a battle in itself. He ignored the sign on your door that said “Keep Out!” which you put up right before the party started to discourage people from going into your room and using it as a place to make out or have sex; Steve also had a sign on his door. 

When he walked in, he didn’t see you on your bed or sitting at your desk, or even lying on the floor, so he headed to the door right next to your closet that led to your bathroom.

“Hey, you in there?”

Twenty minutes ago, when you went into your bathroom, you had initially thought that you didn’t want to talk to or see anyone— you wanted to wallow alone and in silence. But, it turned out that hearing Steve’s voice right then didn’t annoy you or make you upset. Instead, it was the exact voice you wanted to hear in that moment— because, of course, Steve never counted as just anyone. 

You were sitting in your empty white tub. The cool porcelain felt nice against the exposed parts of your skin that the dress you were wearing didn’t cover, and you thought that the small confines of your bathroom would be the perfect place to spend the rest of your night; a night that had gone downhill almost too fast.

“Yes,” You mumbled, but it was loud enough for Steve to hear. 

“Can I come in?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Yes. But, please don’t turn on the light.”

“Okay.”

You heard the door open then close and then the sound of the shower curtain being pushed to the side caught your attention and you looked up at Steve. 

“What happened?” He asked. Your eyes had long adjusted to the darkness so you could make out his face fairly well and you could see the concerned look on it. 

“I don’t wanna lie and say nothing, but I also don’t really wanna talk about it right now.” 

“That’s okay,” He said with a small nod. “Can I sit?”

You didn’t verbally answer and instead simply pulled your knees up to make room in the tub for him. He got in, pulling his knees up as well, and for a few moments, it was quiet. You could faintly hear the sound of music coming from the living room, but you couldn’t fully make out whatever vinyl Eddie decided to play on the record player.

“Someone gave us a plant,” Steve told you, breaking the silence. “Housewarming gift.”

“Oh, no,” You responded with a small sigh. You and Steve were probably the least “green thumb” people ever. “It’s gonna be dead in a week.”

“She said it’s a low-maintenance one so we’ll see how true that is,” He said as he shrugged. “Now that I’m thinking about it, though, is it weird that we can easily take care of a hamster, but a plant will barely last a week with us?”

You shook your head. “Harold provides us constant love and affection— even when he’s running on his squeaky wheel at three in the morning, it’s somehow still adorable— a plant does not do that. So, which one are we gonna remember to care for?”

“Very, very true.” 

“At least one person gave us a gift, though,” You said. “Now that I’m remembering that we called this a housewarming party, I’m actually kinda upset that we didn’t get any more presents. Where’s our fancy plates and cookware, or even a nice throw blanket?”

You were only slightly joking with your statement, you would’ve actually loved getting a blanket.

Steve laughed a bit. “If that’s what you wanted then we should’ve invited our moms and their friends.”

“Fuck, we really should’ve done that when we moved in. Such a missed opportunity.”

“I fully think that if we did do that our apartment would look eerily similar to Miss Johnson’s,” Steve said and you could imagine it completely. Frilly white curtains in the living room instead of the black ones that were currently up that blocked out the sun perfectly, and flowery pillows on the gray couch instead of the sage green ones that you found on sale a few weeks ago.

You inwardly shuddered at the thought. “Okay, yes, that’s probably true, but at least we would be using nice plates and not the Mickey Mouse ones we got from that thrift shop.”

Steve jokingly gasped, offended. “I love those Mickey plates, actually.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Just for a moment, it was nice to completely forget about what happened not even an hour ago and what led you to essentially hide away in your bathroom in the first place. 

Things got quiet again and it was the kind of silence that you liked; the kind that made you feel completely comfortable with spending the rest of the night avoiding everything and staying right there in your tub with Steve, and you knew that he would’ve been okay with that too. Even though your bodies would’ve probably started aching after just thirty minutes of being in this position, and he was taller so it would be worse for him, he wouldn’t have complained. 

You focused on the muffled sound of the music playing in the living room. This time you managed to make out the familiar beat of the song; Somebody to Love by Queen. You let out a sigh because that song playing right then somehow felt way too on the nose. 

Steve reached over and lightly poked your knee. “You okay?”

You were so close to pushing the question away again, avoiding the topic and bringing up something else completely— maybe saying that you actually loved those damn Mickey Mouse plates too— but you actually didn’t feel like brushing the topic away anymore. 

“He doesn’t like me,” You abruptly said, voice quiet. “I was tired of trying to read between lines and shit, so I just asked him, and he said no.”

You noticed the sad look cross Steve’s face, which only made a fresh wave of embarrassment and sadness wash over you, but you kept going before he could say anything just yet. “And then to make that whole moment even more embarrassing for me, after he said no he pointed at this girl— I don’t know her name, I think Robin invited her— and asked if I knew if she was single or not.”

Steve’s response of “What the fuck,” was immediate and it was really nice hearing how angry he was on your behalf and it made you smile a bit.

“This past hour has been extremely humbling for me. And I know I said I’d find someone to make out with if things didn’t work out with Charlie, but I’m not even in the mood to do that,” You told him as you leaned back against the cool tub and closed your eyes. “And you wanna know what the worst part of all of this is?”

“What?” “I’m not even drunk right now, so I’ll sadly remember all of this tomorrow.”

You weren’t entirely sure what you expected Steve to say in response to that, but you fully did not expect him to laugh. You opened your eyes and lightly kicked his leg. “Wow, thank you for laughing at my pain.”

“I’m sorry. I am a little drunk right now, so you saying that you’re not is kind of funny because it feels like the roles are reversed,” He said and you slightly hated how right he was. At any party you went to, he was usually the sober-ish one helping you out whenever you drank too much. “Robin and I were playing the Uno drinking game with some people.”

“What? I can’t believe I missed that.”

“We can go play it now. You’d honestly probably win for once since you’re the only one of us who isn’t drunk.”

“Ha ha,” You said with a roll of your eyes as you reached forward so that you could playfully hit him. “I know I’m the worst at that game, but it doesn’t make it any less fun.”

“Okay, come on, let’s go play,” Steve said before standing up, and then reaching his hands out toward you so that he could help you up.

He was trying to cheer you up, you could clearly see that, and you almost took him up on his suggestion. But, the thought of leaving your bathroom or even the comfort of the tub didn’t sit well with you. Mainly since you were unsure if Charlie was still out there and you didn’t want to see him or what he was doing because you knew you’d only feel embarrassed all over again. Yes, it was your apartment and you could’ve easily kicked him out if he was still there, but it felt so much easier to simply stay right where you were. 

You looked up at Steve and shook your head. “I don’t really wanna play, actually.”

Steve sat back down with you. “Okay, I haven’t seen you this upset over a guy in a long time. What is it about Charlie? Why is he so special?”

It only took a second for an answer to come to your mind because it was something that you had actually been thinking about a lot lately but had yet to verbalize it.

“I don’t– I don’t even think it’s really about him specifically. It’s just, I’m so tired of having crushes— of liking a guy and it going absolutely nowhere… I want something real. It’s been what feels like forever, and the last time was with that guy whose name we will never say in this house. And we both know how that horrific relationship ended.” It was rare that you ever talked about that relationship anymore, so hearing you mention it right then— even in just a minor way— actually surprised Steve, it even surprised you a little bit. That relationship was something that went on from the end of your Sophomore year of high school to the middle of Junior year; close to a year of your life that you really wished you could get back because you put up with a lot of shit that you now knew you shouldn’t have.

“I want something good for once, and I thought that maybe I could have that with Charlie. I thought maybe he wasn’t an asshole. But, now I’m back at fucking square one, and it’s just so…” You trailed off with a sigh, not bothering to finish your statement.

“It’ll happen. You’ll find someone. Someone actually good,” Steve told you, his voice was soft and you could hear the sincerity behind his words. 

You let out a sigh and leaned your head back against the wall. “Sometimes I hate talking about relationship stuff with you.” 

“What? Why?” Steve asked. He sounded genuinely confused and for a second you felt bad because there wasn’t supposed to be anything you didn’t like talking about with him— you were best friends.

“Because you can get a date with any girl ever, and you could probably easily be in a committed, serious thing if you wanted to. Meanwhile, I’m getting rejected left and right or falling for complete idiots,” You answered, letting the words fall out and not really thinking about them too much because they just felt way too true. However, once they fully registered in your head, you could feel yourself inwardly cringing. “Ew. Oh, God, I sound pathetic. Please forget I said anything.” 

“It’s not true,” Steve told you with an immediate shake of his head. You almost said “Which part?” but he continued before you could ask that question. “I go on dates, yeah. But, none of them are close to, or are even leading to, something real. Even if I wanted it to, the girls I date don’t want something real with me.”

You considered his words for a second. “Well, in that case, they’re idiots.”

“Charlie’s an idiot too.”

“Cheers to that,” You responded. “God, I wish I was drunk right now.” 

Steve laughed at your words and then opened his mouth to say something. For some reason, you had a feeling that he was going to try and coax you out of the bathroom again, and you were still unsure if you wanted to get up just yet, so you decided to say something before he could. “Do you ever want something serious?”

He was quiet for a second, as if really thinking about your question. “I don’t know… It changes a lot.” You nodded at that before he continued. “Most of the time I think I do, though.”

“Well, with what you just said about the girls you date and with what happened to me tonight, I think you and I are just gonna be alone together forever.”

He let out a small laugh. “I think so too.”

You smiled at him. “And I know that should sound at least a little bit sad, but right now, it honestly doesn’t.”

He smiled back at you. “Yeah, that actually sounds okay.”

Neither of you got the chance to say anything else because the sound of the door opening caught both of your attention. 

“Okay, two things,” You both recognized Robin’s voice before she pulled back the curtain to look down at you two. “One, I really need to pee so I need you both to get out of here, please. And two, Eddie pulled Harold out of his cage and is trying to teach him to do tricks.” 

You groaned as you started standing up. “Oh, God. Not again.” 

Steve followed suit, standing up as well, as he rolled his eyes. “Why is that always his go-to thing to do when he’s high?”

Robin laughed, you easily noticed how tipsy she was. “And what makes it even funnier is that he does this all the time but Harold has not actually learned any “trick” yet.” 

“The day that Eddie somehow teaches him how to “roll over,” I will pass away in shock,” You said as you adjusted your dress, fixing how much it had ridden up while you were sitting in the tub.

You and Steve stepped out of your bathroom to let Robin use it. But, you hesitated to open your bedroom door and let you two step back into the party happening in the rest of the apartment. 

Steve easily noticed your hesitation and his hand found yours, giving it a light reassuring squeeze. “You handle Eddie, and if Charlie is still here, I’ll tell him to leave, okay?” 

You inwardly sighed in relief hearing him say that because, of course, he knew the exact thing you had been worried about.

“Thanks.” There was so much more said in the simple one-word— thank you for reading my mind, thank you for always being able to do so, thank you for being the best goddamn person in my life. 

Steve nodded and gave your hand another squeeze, hearing all of those underlying words and then some. “I have been waiting all night to do this, actually, so thank you. And we’re playing the Uno drinking game after.”

You smiled at that and gave him a quick nod. “Okay.”

You then opened your door and stepped out, giving Steve’s hand a squeeze of your own before pulling away as you started making your way toward Eddie, who was sitting on the couch with Harold in his lap. You pretended as if you were completely unaffected when you briefly noticed Charlie standing in your kitchen and talking to the same girl he had pointed out to you earlier. 

“Edward Munson put Harold back in his cage right now.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(also requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)