#that also just happens to look really fuckin cool

[the-punforgiven]

Idk where I remember reading it but I remember reading somewhere that black knights were a specific class of knight who'd paint over their armor and coat of arms to signify they no longer served a king or lord and while I cannot find any evidence of that being actually true, I'd be lying if I said that idea didn't kind of fuck tbh

[ricky-mortis]

Curtwen Week Day 6: Happy Ending

[vaggieslefteye]

CHARLIE MAGNE from HAZBIN HOTEL (2019): Pilot - "That's Entertainment" ↳ "So, I've been thinking: Isn't there a more humane way to hinder overpopulation here in Hell? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to change souls through... redemption?"

[cesium-sheep]

possibly the last time I truly got to sing my heart out without bothering anyone was probably the last streetlight concert, which is probably part of why I wanna go back so bad.

[theokusgallery]

OKAY OKAY I SAW YOUR MOST RECENT ART POST

AND I LOVE IT

BUT BUT

I'M SORRY BUT

SUNNY LOOKS LIKE HE'S PROCESSING THAT THIS BLONDE GAYASS GUY LIKES HIM

HE GOT NO THOUGHTS

AT ALL

BEHIND THOSE EYES

I'M SORRY DON'T KILL ME PLEASE

Sunny's like "oh shit when he said he liked me he meant it"

[hiiikiko]

𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖜𝖊𝖇

[1: spider-man’s more awkward than i thought..”]

spiderman!ellie x reader | tlou m.list

synopsis: ellie is in your biology class, she’s the quiet teachers assistant, who also happens to double as your agency’s part time photographer, but you notice that lately she’s been acting strange..

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You never really noticed her before, to you, she was just the nerdy TA and your agency’s assistant photographer but right now, you needed her to be your saviour. You were failing your biology class, a side effect of how many modelling gigs you’ve picked up to pay your tuition but what good was paying your tuition if you couldn’t even pass your classes? That’s how you ended up practically begging Ellie to tutor you.

“God, please, Williams,” you sighed, taking her hand in yours, “I’ll do anything! I’ll even pay you or I could speak to the agency—.”

“I-it’s fine, Y/l/n, I can do it,” she pried her hand out of yours and nodded, “Just put in a good word with your boss, yeah?”

You practically jump when she says that, “Oh thank you, thank you so much! Um, do you have my number?”

Ellie bashfully nods, “Uh, yeah, I have all the model’s numbers..”

You nod, “Okay, cool! Let’s meet at my place tonight, yeah? Maybe around 6? I’ll send you the location and the door code.”

Ellie straightens up, “Uhh.. can’t do six.. can we do it earlier? Maybe 4..?”

She looks a little nervous about asking, her eyebrows are furrowed and she’s staring into your eyes, anxiously waiting for your response, “Oh.. yeah that’s cool!”

With that, you go your separate ways.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

At your apartment, you prep it for your visitor, shoving your clothes into your laundry hamper, putting out some snacks, straightening up your ‘living room,’ it wasn’t really a living room, given that you lived in a small studio apartment, it was really just a corner of your apartment with a couch, rug, and coffee table. Come on, it was New York and you’re a college student! This is as good as it’ll get for now.

Just as you’re folding a blanket, you hear a thud against the glass door leading out to your balcony. Just as you’re about to take a step towards it to inspect it.. ding dong! You jump a bit, forgetting all about the peculiar sound and making your way towards your front door. Peaking through the peephole, you see Ellie, she’s awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck, camera bag resting on her shoulder and her bangs messily in her face.

“Hey,” you smile and open the door to let her in, “Uh, make yourself at home.”

“T-thanks,” she nods, taking off her shoes and putting her bag down, “Nice place you got.. very, uh, homey. Oh, you a fan of Spider-man?” She nods at the Spider-Man poster on your wall and the Spider-Man t-shirt you’re wearing.

You giggle at her attempt at making small talk, “Thanks, can I get you anything? Water.. soda.. tea..? And, yeah, I know it’s kinda ‘fan girly’ of me but he’s just so fuckin’ cool, y’know? ”

“I’ll take a water,” she sits down on your couch, she looks really tired, not sleepy tired but she looks like she just fought Captain America.

“Shall we get started,” you place the glass in front of her and sit on the floor, the fluffy rug underneath aiding as a cushion, she nods and the two of you get to work.

The first few tutoring sessions went just like that, they were stiff and awkward but eventually, you realized that Ellis isn’t just a nerd that occasionally takes your pictures, she’s also really funny and is actually a really good teacher, she’s patient but doesn’t treat you like you’re dumb. She talks you through the formulas and makes sure you understand each chapter by quizzing you. She’s actually not awkward about this after all, she seems confident when she’s talking about cells. Watching her is nice, her eyes light up when she gets to a chapter that she is obviously interested in and a small smile falters on her lips. You never really realized it before but not only is she really smart, she’s also REALLY hot. Like, the way her veiny arms l flex when she reaches over for her glass of water, the veins flexing under her tattoo, the way she gazes at you through her eyelashes, and her smirk when she gently teases you for getting a problem wrong.

On one particular tutoring session, the rain pattered heavy against the thin glass on your balcony doors, creating a serene, almost cozy atmosphere. You and Ellie were sitting close together on the floor, a thick textbook resting on the coffee table in front of you, you could feel her breath against your neck and her voice was deep and raspy, almost like she’d been out in the rain earlier, and—

“Hey, you with me?” Ellie waves a hand in front of your face, “Hm, maybe we should stop here for now, yeah? It’s getting la— shit, it’s 7?!”

Your expression fell at the thought of her leaving, so you thought ‘fuck it’ as you decided to try and get her to ‘sleep over.’

Ellie scrambled to get on her feet, grabbing her bag and putting her battered converse on, “Oh, you’re leaving? But it’s pouring out there, wanna spend the night?” You graze her arm with your hand, you know it’s wrong to wanna sleep with your TA and your coworker but.. it had been so long since you got any.. and shit, how could you stop yourself now? You could feel her lean muscles underneath her baggy jacket.. you had no idea she even worked out.

Ellie’s eyes flicker to your hand, almost like she was considering it, “S-sorry.. I really gotta go, see ya Friday, yeah?”

And before you could say anything else to try and convince her to stay, she was out the door and you could hear her footsteps echoing down the stairwell.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“The nerve that girl has!” You throw your hands up, “She didn’t even consider it.. I mean, look at me! An up and coming model offers you the night of her life, you say yes!”

Your friends nod in agreement, “I just don—.” Just as you’re about to make another comment, you see Ellie come into the lecture hall, a band-aid on her eyebrow, ouch. What in the world could have happened between 7 p.m. and this morning?

Your friends turn to see what’s got your tongue, then one of them speaks up, “Haven’t you heard? She is always getting weird scratches.. a guy in my last class said that she tends to get in a lot of fights, crazy, right?”

Ellie gets into fights? You scoff at the idea, no way, she’s the most gentle person you know, you can barely feel her touch when she adjusts your hair during shoots, besides she’s way too awkward, you can imagine her trying to talk herself out of a beating, no way. Right?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

During that night’s tutoring session, you ask her about the bandaid, “Oh,” her hand darts to her forehead, “This? I, uh, got it when I fell off my skateboard..”

Convincing enough, right? But the tone in which she said it betrayed her statement, damn, she was a shitty liar.

“Hm,” you hum, still not completely convinced.

Ellie’s eyes rest on yours for a moment before going back to this week’s chapter. Usually, you could focus pretty well but right now all you wanted was to ask her more about the cut, right as you’re about to bug her again, she interrupts you with a question of her own. “Hey, uh, are you booked for that shoot on Sunday?”

You can tell she’s trying her best to act as nonchalant as possible but the way she’s nervously tapping her pencil against the textbook, the way her teeth gently bite her soft pink lips, and the way her eyes look like a deer caught in headlights betray her rather calm tone.

“Yeah, didn’t Regina tell you? She booked me a few weeks ago, something about how they want a ‘fresh young face’ or whatever,” you on the other hand, have mastered the art of being nonchalant, your voice calm and your eyes never leaving the paper of your textbook.

“R-really?” Ellie looks like a puppy who’s owner just shook a bag of treats before forgetting she’s supposed to be feign the whole ‘mysterious loner’ shtick, “I mean, uh, cool, cool. I’m gonna be there too, so, uh.. yeah.”

“Mhm,” the rest of the night carries on like nothing happened, Ellie continues teaching and you continue ‘listening,’ which was a little hard because your eyes kept drifting to her eyebrows again.

There’s something about her that you just don’t get.. if those rumours are true, which you highly doubt because look at her, she’s smiling while talking about RNA… be so for real right now, there’s no way BUT if it is true, why is she so gentle? Sure, she’s clumsy but her personality, she’s not hostile, hell, she blushes whenever you graze her hand. You know how the rumour mill works and it doesn’t just churn out baseless rumours, most have some kind of truth to them, so, how did someone make one about Ellie being so violent, you wonder.

“Uh, Y/n?” Ellie’s eyes move towards the balcony doors, “Can you, uh, please stop staring? You’re making me nervous..”

Your face erupts in a blush, the sweet red colour creeping up your neck, coating your ears, and finally, sweeping over your face, “S-sorry, just spaced out.. haven’t been getting much sleep, you know?”

Ellie nods, “Yeah.. I get it.. neighbours arguing a lot ‘nd stuff, right?”

You nod before realizing, “I never told you that.”

Ellie lets out a forced chuckle, “Uh, you did! Well, you didn’t tell me directly, just heard you say it… God, please believe me, I’m not stalking you, I just heard you say in passing, I swe—. Um. I should go, it’s getting late..”

“Huh, it’s only 6..?” You stand up with her, hoping she doesn’t leave so soon.

“Sorry, but I really should—?”

You grab onto her bulky jacket, tugging on the sleeve a bit, causing it to slip down her shoulder a bit and reveal her shirt underneath, huh, it looked like…

“Hey,” she blurts out and straightens out her jacket, “Wh—?”

“Oh my god, is that a spider-man tshirt?” You jump up, a smile creeping onto your face.

Ellie is washed with relief, “Uh, yeah! Gotta love the, uh, the guy, right?”

Nodding you say, “Totally! You should’ve said something sooner, I’m like his biggest fan, I even have an, allegedly, signed poster of him!”

Ellie’s ears burn bright, “R-really? Can I see it?”

You scramble to your room and pull out a small signed flyer, “See?”

Ellie gently holds it then she snorts and mutters, “Yeah, that’s not real.”

Your expression falters, “Wh-what? As if you’d know,” you pull it from her grip, your pride hurt and internally kicking yourself for spending so much on what could be a damn knock off.

“Oh, I think I’d know a thing or two about ‘Spider-Man’,” she chuckles.

“What does that mean,” you shoot her a glare.

“Oh, nothing.. I just, uh, met him” Ellie is scrambling for any way to cover up her loud mouth.

“No way, really?!” You jump up.

“Y-yeah, a few times actually.. back in my first year of college, he let me take some pictures of him a few times for the paper.”

You squeal and begin to bombard her with questions, “What was he like? Is he tall? How does he sound? Wh—?”

Ellie is patient with you and answers all of your questions, stretching she takes a look at the clock and jumps up, “Fuck, I really should get going, it’s rainy and the parade is tomorrow and that means more cr —.”

“More, what?”

“Uh, more cramped subways!” (Ellie is internally patting herself on the back for coming up with a word that begins with ‘cr’ instead of saying criminals.)

“Oh, alright.. see ya.”

Ellie is out the door quicker than you could say ‘your friendly neighborhood spider-man.’

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It’s the day of the parade and everyone’s spirits are high. Today, everyone is celebrating the election of the new city mayor. There will be a parade, drone show, and a market. Even you’re excited. You and your friends are making your way through the crowded streets when you bump into Abby, your ex. She must be here for her family, Abby’s family was widely renowned. Her dad isn’t just a highly esteemed surgeon, he’s also CEO of Oscorp and has very close ties to the city officials. You don’t really want any drama, so you pass by without giving as much as a nod.

“Hey, Y/n,” you hear through the crowds, a groan leaving your lips before looking up and meeting green eyes instead of blue ones.

“Ellie! What’re you doing here? I thought you would hate this kinda stuff.’

She holds up her camera, “Just takin’ photos, the Daily Bugle needs some front page stuff and they assigned it to me.”

“Oh, very cool,” you smile, “S—,” Just as you’re about to ask her if she wants to check out the stands with you, you feel a hand grip your shoulder, it’s Abby, fuck.

“Hey, Y/n, long time, huh? Wanna come see my dad, he’s been asking about you, oh, so has Manny.” Before you could reject her, Ellie is already walking away and Abby is steering you to the city hall building.

Abby drones on and on about her latest lacrosse victories and about her latest conquests, you just nod and try to space out. Normally, you wouldn’t go with her but you so desperately wanted to meet with her father. Being in premed meant you need as many connections as possible, so you were hoping Mr. Anderson could give you some pointers.

As the two of you round a corner you feel a rumble then hear a boom.

“What the fuck was that,” Abby stops and runs up the stairs, your feet are frozen in place but you quickly pull them from their cemented state and chase after her, “Abby, stop! It’s too dang—!”

Then came the second boom and suddenly, you felt the ground beneath you crumbling, fuck, this is it, isn’t it? Just as you’re about to accept your fate, you feel hands grip your waist and you’re flying..?

Through the dust, you can make out a red and blue silhouette. “I-it’s you!’

The masked figure looks at you, “Yeah.. i-it’s me.”

Uh, Spider-Man is a lot more awkward than you thought..

[munsster]

dull domestication

A/N: s4 steve is WAY too babygirl like what am i supposed to do. he is literally begging to be domesticated. (gif creds: @emziess)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x GN!AFAB!Reader

Summary: You and a sleepy Steve have a very domestic conversation about the future. 0.9k words

Warnings: domestic fluff, talk of pregnancy/children, cuddling, pet names (daddy /j, baby, honey), cursing

Steve's hair is mussed when he reenters the living room from the kitchen. You're not sure what exactly he got up to in there besides dishes, but you're sure he looks even more tired than when he left. And now, he's a heat seeking missile for your lap.

"Tired, honey?" you whisper just to see him nod and close his eyes halfway to the couch. And when he finally reaches you, he spreads his body weight completely atop yours, ear pressed to your heart and cheek smushed against your sternum.

He hums with your lithe fingers sweetly combing through his hair.

"Fuckin' exhausted. Don't even get me started on my shift," he grumbles.

"What happened on your shift?"

He sighs long and hard, rumbling your chest. It takes everything in you not to laugh at how it even shakes the couch a little.

"Robin ditched halfway through to go on a date with Vickie"—he mocks—"and I forgot my lunch."

"Aw, baby, you know I would've brought it to you."

"Don't feel bad, I only didn't call because I worked through my entire break because no one was there to remind me that I even had a break. Stupid. If I hadn't just gotten a raise, I fuckin' swear."

With every second, he seems to sink further into your embrace, bones becoming goo the longer he crushes you into the cushions. Even with the air running and the night chill cooling the house, he stills runs hot like an oven. If you held your breath, you could probably hear his veins humming to produce all that heat.

"I knew I should've visited today. I had a feeling," you say, fingertips soft on the back of his neck. He hums, pushing his hands up your sides and taking your top with them.

"I like when you visit me, baby," he says, "makes me happy. And way more productive."

"Except for the twenty minutes we spend doing nothing."

"Hey, we don't do nothing."

"Oh, sorry, the twenty minutes we spend staring into each others eyes and making out. How could I forget?"

"Dunno," he shrugs, hands now snug up underneath your shoulder blades. "You ever think about kids?"

"Like how loud and obnoxious they are? Yeah, sometimes."

"Yeah, that." But you know that's not all because his brow furrows, his face taut against your chest. He takes a deep breath and shivers when you dip your fingers into the neck of his shirt. "But also about how cute ours would be."

Fuck. For all the shit running through his mind, you're shocked that's all he let out. How cute your kids would be. You and Steve. Cute kids? No doubt. Have you seen his eyes? Of course they'd be cute. You just can't beleive he said it out loud. Like the though of getting older and settling down never crossed his mind as a kind of threat. Like that's the natural course of action for two young adult lovers. You've talked about marriage, sure, but children is a whole new ballpark.

"Honey?" he coos, lifting his head to meet your eyes. "Did I scare you?"

"No. No, no. Just... hadn't really thought of it.

But I agree. Our kids would be cute. Loud and obnoxious and cute."

Your heart gives you away, pounding hard against his cheek and against your will. It makes him blush to hear you say it. Makes him a little embarrassed he said anything at all. But, they'd be pretty cute, wouldn't they?

"We don't have to talk about it," he whispers. You look down at him, pushing all of his hair up past his hairline and covering it up until he looks hairless and then letting it all flop down in his face.

"It's okay, we can talk about it," you whisper, leaning in to kiss his forehead and pull away with a smile. 

"I hope they have your eyes," he says.

"No way, you've got stunners. They better have yours, daddy," you say, grinning wickedly.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, daddio, better get used to it if you want to father our annoying yet gorgeous children."

He goes bug-eyed, staring you down in the dark, and then squinting when you cover your face to laugh.

"Not funny."

"I'm sorry! You should've seen your face, baby. Just a teensy weensy bit funny."

"You're my number one enemy right now."

"Fine, no babies for you."

Steve rucks up your shirt with haste, swiping his hand over your tummy before pressing his wet lips to the hot skin. And blowing a raspberry onto it.

"Steven! Get off of me!" you shout. He takes a very minor beating to his upper back before he laughs and wipes his mouth on his sleeve and settling his head back on your chest. You rub circles over the muscle you had attacked, whispering an apology and rolling your eyes. 

"Okay, I hope they have your nose."

"I do have a great nose," you tease.

"Yes, you do," he says.

"I hope they all get a good mix of everything. Little franken-babies."

"I hope so, too. All six of them."

"Six??"

"Sorry, did you want more?"

"More???" you gasp. He chuckles.

"I'm kidding," he teases, plucking at the edge of your tee. "Six is the perfect number." You'd definitely be discussing that number later on.

stranger things masterlist

[sturnlsstuff]

FAMILIAR STRANGER | chapter three

what's gonna happen when you find out about your enemy's biggest secret?

ghostface!chris x enemy!reader

chapter two | chapter four

— warnings; smut with plot, dom!chris, sub!reader, dry humping, eating pussy, fingering, pet names (slut, bitch, princess, etc.), bratty reader, cursing, mentions of murder - english isn't my first language.

~~~

one of your strengths, which others might consider a flaw, was definitely how easily you could ignore people. deep down, maybe you even loved this skill. when someone pissed you off or you just didn't feel like having a conversation with them, it was easy for you to distance yourself and pretend that person doesn't exist. it was really helpful in some situations.

for example, you've been avoiding chris for the last week. whenever you saw him in the hallway at college, you quickly disappeared into the crowd of people so that he wouldn't notice you. you both also didn't have any classes together, so that was also really helpful. there was no need to even try hard since you barely saw him and you were very happy with that.

you were sure everything would go back to normal. you didn't say anything about what you found out about him and you had no intention of doing so for the sake of your friends. if something went wrong and chris got caught, matt would unfortunately suffer the consequences too, which would break emma's heart, and you didn't want that.

so you stayed quiet.

you were also silent about what happened between you and chris. you didn't mention that kiss or... the rest, to anyone and that was definitely going to be your most hidden secret. you told yourself it wasn't important anyway. though the mixed feelings irritated you so much that you wanted to pull your hair out ten times a day.

forgetting the way his lips felt against yours was impossible, you couldn't shake the feeling no matter what. you even tried to wash it with your goddamn toothbrush.

what's worse, you were constantly turned on, which led to you snapping at people out of frustration. your friends were sure that what happened to jake was the reason for you to be acting like this, and it was incredibly convenient for you, so you let them think that, glad that you don't have to explain yourself.

"...and i hear that motherfucker saying the cringiest pick up line i've ever heard in my life. and i'm so sick and fuckin' tired of actually hearing all this bullshit, to be honest. i was ready to fucking slice my ears off, so i never have to hear someone speak to me again. i'm tired of these cringe men, holy fuck..."

constant giggles keep leaving your and emma's mouth as nick continues to rant on about his failed date last night. it was a peaceful sunday evening, all three of you sitting on the couch in your apartment.

"...like all i need is a body building, mud eating, disgusting straight looking man. do i ask for much?"

"nick—" you chuckle in disbelief, "that's insane."

"it's true though, like..." he sighs dramatically. you and emma give each other a look, "it's just a failed date, you'll find someone cool soon," emma says.

you add, "it's not like you need a man anyway."

"but it's good to have someone, the closeness and..." emma mumbles, causing nick to nudge her with his elbow. "girl, her ex just died, that's not..."

"oh, right," your bestfriend covers her mouth, both of them looking at you intensely now, while you just shake your head in disbelief, holding back a laugh really bad. you didn't want your friends to think you really are a heartless bitch, still not telling them that you don't care about jake's death.

so you ask instead, "can we not talk about that?" both of them immediately agreeing and changing the topic.

"i have no clue what to wear to that costume party," emma says, your attention now caught. nick replies, "i'm going as fred from scooby doo, y'know the spo—"

"what party?" you frown. their heads turns towards you immediately, "girl what do you mean 'what party'? alice's birthday themed party? at the frat? everyone must dress up."

"you forgot about the party?" emma raises her eyebrow and that's when you remember that this is this weekend.

alice was a random girl from your class, she was pretty popular, everyone loved her. it's not like she was your friend, but she was always nice and definitely doing the best parties. her and one of the frat guys were together so they were throwing her birthday party in a frat house. and she clearly wanted everyone to dress up, this girl loved halloween and even if it was almost christmas, she clearly still lived in october.

you aren't a person to forget about a party, but this time you simply did, since for the past week all you could think about was chris, whether you liked it or not.

"oh, no, i remember, i just didn't think it's this friday."

nick takes a sip of his soda, "yeah, you got a lot on your mind." you can easily tell the reference to jake's death. though you prefered this than for them to know about you and chris kissing. "do you know what you're gonna dress up as?" emma asks, but you just shake your head.

"i didn't think of that yet."

emma nods, "i'd love to match with you, but i already told matt we were gonna do that." you wave your hand dismissively, "it's fine, don't worry."

"you could pull on elena gilbert really good," emma scans your face and body, then looking at nick with raised eyebrow.

"girl who? her as elena? this girl is fucking katherine."

"oh, spare me, i've never seen this show!"

nick scoffs, "me neither and i know she's definitely katherine."

the rest of their words gets blurry, while your mind wanders somewhere else. the party being at the frat house is very inconvenient for you, since chris will obviously be there. the possibility of you seeing him is bigger than you'd like. you even start to think about reasons why you'd just simply not go without arousing suspicion, but you haven't found any. you never say no to a good party, unfortunately. however, you really didn't want to see chris with that stupid smirk of his on those stupid, pretty, pink, soft li-

"hello?" your bestfriend snaps her fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to earth. "are you listening?"

"huh?" you ask stupidly, blinking in a confusion. emma rolls her eyes, "i asked who do you think is right, but i see you aren't clearly with us here."

the irritation you feel is definitely completely unreasonable here and you know it, but the constant frustration you feel and the fact that you can't get that kiss out of your head, makes even the smallest things pissing you off. so you say something that you know will make emma feel guilty, but at least take attention away from you.

"oh, sorry i can't focus on anything, my ex got killed literally a week ago."

the silence that fills the room makes you regret that you had even said that. "damnnn..." nick looks between you and emma and leans over to put his soda on the coffee table.

you sigh, rubbing your temples, "forget it, is just... i don't really care about that party right now." your bestfriend nods and shifts uncomfortably on the couch. your throat was feeling dry, the overwhelming feeling growing more and more each second.

"you drinking it?" you ask nick, pointing at the dr.pepper. he shakes his head and grabs the can again, giving it to you, "nah, you can have it."

"thanks, chris."

the room remains silent once again, but this time it's heavier as both sets of eyes look at you in confusion. your heart speed up, a wave of heat washes over you. there's no way you said his name. you'd vanish into thin air if you could.

"nick. thanks," you corrected yourself, hiding the panic in your voice and taking a big sip of the soda, kind of wanting to choke and die, that's how embarrassed you were.

"did you call me chris?" nick asks, raising his eyebrows. emma adds, "i did hear chris..."

"i misspelled," you mutter, feeling your palms starting to sweat. "it's 'cause i'm annoyed and he always annoy me so i associate this feeling with him and that's all."

that was such a bad explanation, but you couldn't think of anything else with both of your friends eyes locked on you intensely.

"that's interesting that you're misspelling me with him, when he just asked me yesterday 'bout you."

this time you nearly actually choke on that drink after hearing nick's words. you cough a few times, your eyes watering, "he what?"

"he asked about you."

"really?"

"no, i'm just messing with you," nick smirks, watching you closely. "wanted to see your reaction."

you narrow your eyes at him, "not funny at all."

"funny to me," he replies. "you got a little excited?"

"no? why the fuck would i?"

you couldn't lie that the thought of chris asking about you made you feel something strange, but nick was really just teasing you. now you felt stupid.

"i don't know, maybe you tell me, 'cause there's clearly something up with you."

warmth washes over you immediately, you would like to melt off the face of the earth if you were able to. you couldn't tell them what you found out or what had happened between chris and you. there was no way you can get out of this situation.

"well..." you clear your throat. "nothing is up with me. we had like another dumb argument, he pissed me off really bad this time so as i said, i'm annoyed and that feeling reminds me of him."

"god, you two are like little kids," emma speaks up. "it's been years and you keep fighting with each other."

"not my fault he's stupid," you cross your arms over your chest.

nick sighs, buying your explanation, which made you a bit relaxed, "he's not that bad, you two are just insane."

"he's fucked up."

"you just didn't have the chance to know him closer."

"he never gave me one."

"did you try?" nick questioned, raising his eyebrow.

you scoff offended, "of course i did, nick."

"i'm not talking about the first time you met us," he says. "he's always distant at first, but if you two actually had a normal conversation and not decided that you dislike each other since the very beginning, everything would be different."

emma agrees, "it's a bit tiring hearing your arguments all the time."

you felt that irritation growing inside you again at their words. they didn't understand. nick was chris's brother, and emma was his other brother's girlfriend, which made the communication with chris easier for the both of them. however, for some reason, you felt from the beginning that chris couldn't stand you, and you were a person who didn't let anyone disrespect you, so these arguments were on the agenda from the very beginning and it was hard to somehow change it.

"whatever. can we not talk about chris?"

they both eventually agree, which makes you relieved, since talking about him definitely didn't help you in trying to forget about the kiss.

—

a few hours later, lying in bed alone at night, you couldn't sleep. not only did you think about chris being a ghostface killer, but also about what happened before the kiss. the fact that chris was aware that he made you wet, was constantly causing your stomach twist in every direction. never before has anyone made you horny so quickly and so much like he did. and the question he would ask you, if it was the knife, the mask or him that turned you on. the more you thought about it, the more you were sure it was everything.

you had to admit that when he moved your hair out of your face and neck with his knife, or ran it down your stomach, that was when you wanted to throw yourself at him more than ever. you had intrusive thoughts about chris before, sometimes when you were alone, desperate at night and you weren't able to come, he appeared in your mind, which always helped you to get off. you were always embarrassed afterwards, promising yourself that it would never happen again, but it did every now and then.

also the fact that you knew that you had made him hard made you shiver. you would never think that you can affect chris like that. well, he was a man after all, he also was known by hooking up with every girl at campus constantly, so it shouldn't be that shocking to you. it's probably not even the fact that it was you, he for sure reacts like this to other girls too. still you can't help but wonder, would have happened if you hadn't come to your senses in time?

you groan painfully, hiding your face in your hands and trying to ignore the growing heat between your legs. it was like this every single night since you and him kissed.

you're pulled from your thoughts by the faint sound of something being thrown at your window. you freeze in place, listening and hearing another faint thump, as if someone was throwing pebbles at your window. confused, you get up and walk over there, slowly opening the blinds.

it was so dark you barely could see anything, but then you notice a tall figure, dressed all in dark, but thanks to the street lamp you could see half of his face hidden by the shadow provided by the hood he was wearing.

your heart rate immediately speeds up.

"what the fuck are you doing?" you ask in a hushed voice, your tone rough, as you open the window and stick your head out.

chris stops his hand mid-swing, seeing you. he smirks, "i knocked on your door, but you weren't answerin', so i assumed you either ignorin' me or sleepin'."

this was a little concerning, apparently you were so lost in thought, you simply didn't hear anything. "so you decided to break my window?!"

"it'd be impossible with these," he swings again and another pebble flew towards you but hit the wall next to the window. you dodged anyway, his smirk widening at your reaction.

annoyed, you push your hair out of your face and look at him again, "are you normal?!"

"chill a little, would ya?" he rolls his eyes at the dramatics. "open the door."

"for what?" a crease appears between your eyebrows.

"talk," chris answers simply, causing the nervousness grow within you.

"it's almost one in the morning, i have classes tomorrow."

"do i look like i give a fuck?"

suddenly it felt like the last week of you trying to ignore him never happened. you were talking to him again and the thoughts you'd have a few minutes ago and every night for the last few days intensified. you were afraid that if you let him into your apartment, you would lose control, so you shake your head, "i'm not letting you in. go back to the frat."

"you ain't my mom to tell me what to do," he rolls his eyes. "stop being complicated and open the door."

"no, chris. now i'm going back to bed, so go away," you say, ready to end the interaction here. then you add, "and stop throwing shit at my window."

with that you do as you said, closing the window and disappearing from his sight, returning to the bed. you sigh, putting your head in your hands. you were curious about what he wanted, but you also felt that you did the right thing. he was messing with your head.

not even a minute later you hear a slight noise outside your window. you hear a knock and after turning around you see chris. you jump out of bed and open the window, seeing him holding on to the gutter.

"what in the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

"move," he just says out of breath and starts climbing onto your windowsill, swinging one leg over it and then the other, forcing you to take a step back. he gets into your room, almost falling to the floor as he does so, but catching his balance at the last moment.

chris straightens his clothes, pulling his hood off his head and running a hand through his hair, meeting your shocked gaze. "what? could've been easier if you jus' opened the fuckin' door, y'know."

your expression so shocked that he literally climbed up the gutter to enter your room, that it made him roll his eyes again. you lived on the second floor so it wasn't very high but still, it was crazy.

"this is like an invasion of privacy," you say crossing your arms, only now realizing that your pajama shorts and thin crop top aren't covering much. chris noticed it too, his eyes sparkling.

he scoffs, closing the window, then shamelessly taking in your appearance, "i told you to let me in, didn't i?"

"and i told you no," you notice his slightly red eyes. "are you high?"

"nah, m'chris," he mumbles and walks around your room, acting as if he wasn't here just a week ago.

the smile that appears on your face shocks even you and you have to cover your mouth with your hand, holding back a laugh.

"sooo...?" you lean against your desk, watching him moving around. "what do you want?"

"yeah, right," he takes one of the photos of you and nick and looks at it, then puts it down and turns to look at you. "do you have to be so annoyin'?"

"huh?" you raise your eyebrows.

"for literally no reason, i can't get that kiss outta my head," chris admits, licking his lips. the annoyance flashes in his eyes, "which is crazy, 'cause m'not some fuckin' virgin to be actin' like it was my first one."

silence falls for a moment, you think he looks very pretty with your bedside lamp dimly illuminating your room and shining on his face. then he continues, "what did you tell nick? m'chillin' with him in my room and then he asks me 'bout some dumb shit, being all like 'why won't you just try to talk to her like a normal person'?" chris mocks his brother's voice. "kid pisses me off, like..."

"wait what?" you pull yourself off the desk, taking a step closer, with confusion written all over your face.

panic washes over you at the thought of nick telling chris that you by accident mixed up their names.

"yeah, like, bro's outta pocket askin' me that," he rolls his eyes. "don't think anythin', m'not talkin' about you or whatever, he brought that up."

"did you ask him what he meant?"

"he said we fight too much blah, blah, and apparently he was with you earlier today, so i guess you told him somethin', since he never acted like this before."

chewing on your bottom lip nervously, which causes chris's attention, you answer, "i didn't say anything, i don't know what he's on about."

he scans your face suspiciously, but nods, then pulling out the mask from the large pocket of his hoodie. your eyes widen, as he asks, "what 'bout this?"

"you're carrying it around in your pocket?!"

chris gives you a glare, "you think i'm stupid? obviously not, just this one time."

"and for what exactly?"

"i asked you a question first."

"i didn't tell nick about this, if that's what you're asking."

"good. keep that pretty mouth shut," his eyes travel down and up your body again, your breath hitching in your throat. he was not helping the situation you were in for the past week. "maybe you're not as stupid as i thought after all."

"oh, thanks," you respond sarcastically, with an eye roll.

he smirks and puts the mask on, immediately making your breathing quicken, "boo."

the things you feel in that moment are so strong and conflicted that it makes your head spin. you swallow, trying to ignore what was happening between your legs, "wow, you're hilarious, really."

"i know, right?" his smirk widen under the mask, as he watches you going to sit on your bed, clearly avoiding looking at him. "i should start callin' you boo, since you're clearly too scared to look at me."

"i'm not scared at all?" you grimace as he stands right in front of you, so you have to look up at him. "can you stop goofing around and take this off? and actually go, if that's all you've wanted."

"nah, i might stay a lil' bit," he flops down onto your bed, pulling the mask off his face. "wasn't climbing through your window to be here for ten minutes and go, y'know."

"no one told you to do that?"

"you didn't wanna open the door f'me, so..." he plays with the mask. you sigh annoyed, standing up. you just needed to do something, before you lose your goddamn mind.

you had to make him leave fast.

"well, last time i didn't open it either and somehow you got inside."

chris grins, watching you and clicking his tongue against the inside of his cheek, "yeah, next time you're out of the house, close that window."

"thanks, now i'll remember," you answer sarcastically, as he sits up.

"you movin' around as you had some worms in your ass."

the stare you give him makes him smirk more. chris was really enjoying this actually, the weed in his system also making everything even better.

"god, stop smiling and get out of my bed," finally getting fed up, you walk over to him, grabbing his arm and trying to get him to stand up and leave you alone.

but he doesn't even move an inch so you finally give up and sigh in irritation, snatching the mask from his hand. "you can put it on, y'know," he says, "bet you're curious."

you ignore him, asking, "can you just go already?"

"take that stick outta your ass and chill," he rolls his eyes and stands up. "i'll go if you put this on."

"stop talking about my ass," you grimace. your eyes move down to the mask in your hand, then back to him. chris grins, waiting impatiently, "c'mon, it won't bite."

you don't understand why he wants you to put it on so badly, but you were actually curious, so you go to the mirror and do it. your hair is sticking out from under the ghostface mask, but you almost feel like other person. it was such a strange feeling.

chris stands behind you, heat radiating from his body, his eyes scanning you in the mirror. the sight of you in that barely-covering pajamas and his mask twisted his stomach into knots.

"see? feels different, doesn't it?" his voice hoarse with desire, goosebumps appearing on your skin. you nod in response, his hands finding your hips and pressing your back against his chest, causing your mind to spin at the sudden touch.

before you can say anything he turns you around him, pulling the mask off your face and tossing it to the side. the room suddenly becomes tighter, the air heavier, and you both feel the same tension you felt a week ago before the kiss.

"i did what you wanted," you speak up, holding his gaze. "now you should go..."

he nods, not moving even an inch, "yeah. i should."

for a moment you both just look at each other and then at the same time, both of you press your lips against each other, your arm wraps around his shoulder and your fingers tangle into his hair. your tongues dancing together, the kiss is hungry and rough, as if you both knew that one of you would eventually push the other away again.

neither of you does it this time.

chris moves back towards the bed, his lips never leaving yours as he sits down and pulls you into his lap, so now you're straddling him. you hum in approval, his hands move to your waist and he trails kisses to your jaw and down to your neck, tilting your head back to give him more access.

the fact that neither of you had been able to forget about that kiss for the past week, made you even more turned on this time. his hardness is straining uncomfortably against his black sweatpants, and you, not wearing any underwear to sleep, feel your pajama shorts getting soaked. though he knew you wouldn't let him fuck you, no matter how much you wanted it, you held back.

"y're pissin' me off, kid," he mutters against your skin, sucking on it.

pulling on his hair, you move his hair back to make eye contact with his full of lust eyes, "you're annoying."

chris smirks, pulling you into another kiss, making you move even closer, feeling his hard dick beneath you which steals a soft, quiet whimper from you. he hears it and breaks away from your lips, his expression cocky, "what was that, princess?"

your cheeks burn from embarrassment and desire after his words, something that doesn't usually happen, but he notes that he made you blush twice now.

"can you shut up?"

"i can," he tilts his head to the side, not breaking the eye contact and clicking his tongue against his teeth. "but judgin' by what i just heard, i assume you wouldn't be able to do so."

"is this a challenge?" you question him with raised eyebrows.

"maybe."

"and what if i win?"

chris grins and shrugs, "depends from ya, but if i win, you'll let me do anythin' i want."

you narrow your eyes, the tension heavy in the air. this was such a bad idea. "fine, but nothing extreme."

"you mean nothing that includes my dick deep inside you?"

your jaw drops at his bold words, eyes wide, "oh my god..." then you add, "didn't you say, and i quote, 'it's not like i want you anyway'?"

"forget 'bout it," he grins, enjoying the effect he has on you, "so? deal?"

all your logical senses were screaming not to agree to this, and to end what was happening as quickly as possible, but you stopped acting logically the moment you kissed him back for the first time. "yeah, deal," you nod, chris's eyes sparkled with satisfaction and he kissed you again, spreading his legs and moving you onto one of his thighs, your knee between his legs now.

while you are too busy kissing him, he still holds your hips and starts moving them, giving you some needed friction. you grab his arms to balance yourself, your heart pounding in your chest.

"chill," he mutters against your lips, "ride my thigh, c'mon."

breathing heavily, you slowly relax into his touch, the need and wetness between your legs taking over your senses. you start grinding down against him, chris smirks at that and presses a trail of kisses down your neck again, desperate to make you fall apart and lose the bet.

"mhm, good," his voice is muffled by your skin, "keep goin'... take what ya want..."

being quiet is starting to feel harder by the second, so your lower lip gets quickly between your teeth as you bite it to keep from making any sounds, while pressing further down against his thigh.

"shittt," he hisses, pulling away from your neck. "look at that, soakin' my fuckin' pants..."

you look down, continuing to rub against him, noticing the dark, wet spot on his sweatpants from your arousal. you cover your mouth with your hand to keep from making a sound, but he quickly moves it away, his grip on your wrist tight.

"that's cheatin'," he smirks, clearly enjoying it. your eyes catch the visible bulge in his pants, only now realizing that it was also really hard for him as well. "so wet f'me, your soakin' thru your goddamn shorts? that's naughty."

"shut up," you breathe out, feeling the knot in your stomach growing so fast, it shocks you. chris's grip on your hips was so tight, his fingers were leaving marks.

he scans your flushed face, the sight of you like this and that he was the one to make you feel like this, makes his dick painfully pulse in his pants.

"m'not the one who should keep their mouth shut," he retorts cockily, looking down at your clothed core grinding against his thigh. "let's test somethin', shall we?"

chris wants to make you lose at all costs. he uses his thumb to remove your bottom lip from between your teeth so you're helpless now, and you shoot him a glare, before he grabs his ghostface mask that was lying at the end of the bed and puts it on with a smirk. your eyes widen and you freeze for a moment, but he grabs your hips, urging you to start moving again. he remembered how turned on he made you last time, and he wants to check if it's really this mask that has this effect on you.

"you claim to hate me, but y're humpin' my thigh like i was your personal pillow," he chuckles darkly. "what a desperate little slut..."

barely managing to hold back a moan, you let out a shaky sigh instead. his words and that ghostface mask, took you closer to the edge and chris noticed it, knowing you'll fall apart soon, and he's gonna win.

"you like that, huh?" he continues teasing you with his words, making you struggle. "i wonder how many times i made you wet before, without me knowin'... or have you ever gotten off to the thought of me...'cause ya clearly a needy bitch f'me..."

that's when you break, losing control and moan loudly, feeling your hips stutter, barely being able to keep yourself on the edge. it's like music to his ears, chris forces your hips to stop, not letting you move, and hearing a soft whine of protest coming from you. you look at him with half-opened eyes, while he takes off his mask, that big smirk on his face telling you that you've lost.

"well, well, well..." he licks his lips slowly. you remain quiet, digging your fingers into his shoulders, embarrassment and lust written all over your face. "oh, don' be silent now, when you jus' moaned so pretty f'me..."

fuck. that's the only word you hear in your mind right now. telling by his expression, you knew it's gonna end up bad.

"so?" he raises his eyebrow, "ya lettin' me do anythin' i want now?"

you nod hesitantly, "a deal is a deal. but no..."

"no fuckin', got it," he rolls his eyes, moving you off his leg and adjusting his sweatpants in an attempt to get some relief. "though, can't lie, i'd love to rock your world a little."

"chris," you say warningly, pushing aside the image that just popped up in your mind.

he keeps grinning and lies flat down on your bed, head resting comfortably on the pillow, "sit on my face."

your eyes are almost popping out of their sockets, "what?!"

"stop actin' all innocent when we both know you far from that," he grumbled annoyed at your shocked expression. "you almost came jus' from ridin' my thigh."

"i said no fucking—"

"i agreed not to stick my cock in you, not other things."

your face grimaces, cheeks heating up again, "don't say it like that."

chris rolls his eyes again, "c'mon, just sit on it. you're needy and soaked as fuck, lemme help you out." seeing your hesitant face, he adds, "no one will know."

your desperation makes you take off your shorts with a pounding heart, putting them aside and kneeling on the mattress next to his head, feeling his focused gaze on you.

"if you ever bring this up—" you start seriously, but he shushes you and licks his lips, waiting impatiently. he had to taste you.

nervously you swing your leg over to the other side of his head, positioning yourself above his face. his eyes go to your glistening, dripping pussy and he feels his dick hardening even more, the tip sticking uncomfortably against his pants due to the leaking precum.

you slowly lower yourself onto his face, making chris smirk and he gives you a first lick along your wet folds, groaning against you at the taste. your breath hitches in your throat as he immediately starts sucking on your pussy, his fingers spreading you open further. loud, slurping noises filling the room.

"oh, fuck," you gasp for air, automatically tangling your fingers into his hair, your other hand gripping the headboard.

he pauses to push two fingers into you, crooking them upwards to rub against your g-spot, "you taste so fuckin' good."

"chris, don't— don't stop..." you mewl, your hips moving a little. he smiles, "wasn't plannin' on it."

he redoubles his efforts, sucking on your clit as he pumps his fingers faster. he's determined to make you cum on his tongue, to claim your pleasure for himself. his ego demands it.

you were a moaning mess now, your hips grinding down against his face. noticing your desperate movements, chris smirks against your pussy, curling his fingers more insistently as his tongue flicks rapidly over your clit. "yeahhh, fuck my face, gorgeous," he mutters against you.

you maintain eye contact, pulling his hair more and being closer to the edge again. chris pulls his fingers out of you, gripping your hips instead. his nose is buried into your dripping hole, his mouth making sloppy, wet noises as he devours you.

"fuck! so... s-so good," you moan, chewing on your bottom lip to muffle the noises a little bit.

he groans, sending vibrations through you. the way you tasted and the sounds you were making, causing his dick to twitch in his pants, desperate for a release. chris is lost in the sensation of your pussy riding his face, your juices dripping down his chin.

"chris—" you whine, your eyes rolling back. "come on my face, i wanna taste it," he pulls away just to speak, then going back to his work.

chris's tongue flicks skillfully over your swollen bud, as your legs starts to tremble and trying to close around his head, causing his hands move to your thighs, gripping them tightly. you cry out his name again, your hips stuttering and the knot in your stomach finally releases. "oh my god—"

the moment you start coming, chris sucks on you harder. he eats you out like a man dying of thirst, his own hand rubbing his cock through his pants as he watches you shake and convulse.

"oh... fuck..." you breathe out, looking down at him. chris moves his tongue over your clit, not ready to pull away from you. his own release is right there, his cock throbbing painfully in his sweatpants as he imagines his face covered in your cum. "holy shit, chris.." his name leaving your lips like that, pushes him over the edge. he moans against you, his body tensing as he cums in his pants, his release seeping through the material.

you blink a few times, panting and move yourself off his face, sitting down on the mattress beside him. you see his flushed cheeks and heavy breathing like he just ran a marathon, your eyes traveling down to his lap, noticing the dark, wet spot.

noticing your gaze, chris feels a wave of embarrassment and annoyance. he quickly sits up, wiping his lips and chin with the back of his hand, then trying to cover the stain on his pants. "shit... don't fuckin' look at that," he snaps, his face a little red.

"you came in your pants," you observed wisely, still looking at his lap even as he tried to cover it.

"s'not like you made me do it or anythin'," he scowls. "now stop starin' and gimme some tissue to clean this, before i make you lick it up."

you had to hold back a smile as you stood up and went to get two towels from the bathroom. your ego was boosted at the thought that he came in his pants just from eating you out.

you throw him a towel, starting cleaning yourself up and he did the same, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down a little, but you didn't dare to take a peek.

"that's actually kinda hot..." you mutter under your nose, putting on some clean pajama shorts. "shut up," he retors, moving his pants back up and standing up.

you both look at each other for a second, only now realizing what even happened.

the tension in the room suddenly grows more awkward, you feel embarrassed that you let him touch you like that, and he was annoyed that he came just by eating you out. it never happened to him before. he wanted you so bad and you had no idea.

"so," chris clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. "s'late as fuck, i gotta go."

you're almost relieved that he didn't wanna talk about this, "yeah. i'm going to sleep so..."

he nods, putting the hood over his head, as you walk towards the bed. "you can leave through the door, y'know..."

"where's the fun in that?" he asks sarcastically, trying to somehow go back to the back and forth. he opens your window, giving you one last stare. neither of you said anything, so he quickly disappears from your sight, the sound of him climbing down the gutter, filling your ears.

after a while you move to close the window, and sit on your bed in shock, also noticing he left the ghostface mask on the mattress. you grab it, looking at it and shaking your head in disbelief.

that night neither of you could sleep.

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @fratbrochrisgf @lvrsturniolo

[ceilidho]

prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 1. tags: dubcon

-

You duck behind a stack of boxes when you hear Johnny come whistling into the warehouse.

He shouts your name out somewhere off on the other side of the warehouse, voice echoing through the building. You keep absolutely still, fingers clamped around the clipboard that’s pressed close to your chest. Even your breathing slows, open-mouthed so as to keep it almost soundless. It’s strategic. You’ve gotten good at making yourself invisible back here, practically melting into the stack of boxes. 

A minute or two goes by with repeated calls of your name, echoing from different parts of the warehouse like Johnny’s making the rounds. Searching for you. He’s probably been looking around the store for ages, with his track record. Someone must have let it slip that you were assigned to inventory today instead of being out on the floor. 

You only let out a sigh when it’s been long enough that any reasonable person might have given up on trying to find you in the loading dock.

“Hiding from someone?” a deep voice asks from behind you.

Your gut all but self-ejects. When you turn around, he’s standing there in the same bright blue shirt that you also wear. His is stretched tight across his chest though, like it’s a size too small. You wonder sometimes if it’s on purpose. It’s hard not to let your eyes wander, but by now you’ve trained yourself to keep your eyes level when speaking to Johnny. 

“Nope,” you squeak. “Just…you know…counting. Counting boxes and…stacks.”

He laughs, loud enough to make you startle. It’s far too enthusiastic, like you told a particularly funny joke instead of stumbling over your words and you still don’t actually know if he finds you funny or not. 

“Cool,” Johnny says, taking a step closer to you. The clipboard doesn’t feel sufficient enough to put any real distance between the two of you. “Thought I could maybe come hang out with ye back here. Dinnae want ye to feel lonely.”

“Nope, not lonely at all. Totally peachy. Actually glad I could catch a break from…everyone.” You take a step back.

He follows you, another step forward. “Aye, dinnae worry, I get what ye mean. Some of the others—” he whistles, “—right buggers. Glad to catch a break myself as well.”

A bead of sweat rolls down the back of your neck. “Aren’t you supposed to be…out in the front? I, uh, don’t want you to get in trouble with Jeff—”

“Ah, Jeff’s fine, kitty, dinnae worry about me,” Johnny coos, sounding pleased as punch. He takes you at face value instead of reading into the set of your jaw and the way you keep inching away from him as he gets closer to you, convinced that you genuinely in your heart care about whether he gets written up or not. “They fuckin’ love me, ye ken? Think he wants ta take me out for lunch tomorrow, but told him I’d only go if he invited ye as well.”

“Oh. That’s nice,” you whisper instead of screaming. You’re doing that a lot these days. Talking through the scream bubbling behind your front teeth. 

“Would ye want ta then?” he asks, suddenly in your face, three quick steps bridging the gap between you in barely a second, hardly enough time for you to blink. You blink and it’s just Johnny, in startling definition. Thick eyebrows and scar across his chin, the bridge of his nose perfect like he’s never broken it before. “Grab some lunch with me?”

“I, uh…I brought my lunch from home.”

“It’s a’right, I’ll buy it for ye, hen. Dinnae need ta waste your money.” Sometimes when he talks to you, he gets like this, fervent and almost desperate. He seems only half aware of it. “Ye like that mediterranean place nearby, right? Seen ye go there once or twice; wanted ta tag along, but dinnae want ta alarm ye.”

“You saw me go there?” you repeat. 

“Aye, happened ta glance out the window when ye were on your lunch break. Back before management changed my break time. Cheers for that as well because it was really startin’ ta bother me, ye ken? Not being able ta eat with my favourite coworker.” 

You never know how to respond when Johnny lets on a bit too much about how he feels about you. Sometimes he slips up and it comes rushing out, a big spool of thread unwinding in front of you.  

“Yeah, well…I don’t know about today but maybe…” you say, trailing off. There’s a danger in just brushing him off, you feel. 

“Tomorrow then,” he decides, grin still splitting his face. “I’m no’ on the schedule, but I can drop by at your lunch break and go with ye. How’s that sound?”

“Well, you know…it sounds…” He’s close enough now that if you lean forward, you’ll faceplant in between his pecs. Despite everything, you have to slightly fight the urge. Sometimes you think it’d be easier if he weren’t so absurdly gorgeous. It doesn’t make any of his actions okay, it doesn’t excuse his behaviour just because he’s pretty, yet still he pulls you in somehow, magnetic. “It sounds—you know, actually, I think Jeff wanted to talk to me about something, so if you don’t mind—”

Johnny tries to say something, but you manage to duck around him and scurry off, disappearing into the stacks of boxes before pressing forward until you burst out the main doors out of the warehouse. It leads to a hall that goes towards the store, but you haul it to the women’s washroom instead. The one place he can’t follow you inside. 

In the washroom, you can finally breathe. Resting your hands on either side of the sink, you look into the mirror where haggard eyes with deep circles underneath stare back at you. 

You flinch when one of the toilets flush and the stall door opens, another coworker stepping out. 

“Did I hear Johnny outside?” she asks, taking the sink beside you to wash her hands. You nod, still tongue tied. “He really follows you everywhere, huh?”

For a second, your shoulders relax. “God, I know, he’s always just hovering—”

She cuts you off, sighing dreamily. “You’re so lucky. He’s so hot, it’s unreal. I can’t believe he works here, like that’s insane. I’d kill to have him as obsessed with me as he is with you.”

“He’s—he’s not into me, he’s just…you know, he just hovers.”

The water shuts off. Your coworker shoots you a dubious look, almost mocking. “Yeah, alright. Sure. Not into you. Not like he hangs off your every word. You don’t have to be humble—we’re already jealous. It’s like rubbing it in when you pretend like it’s totally normal.”

You slump, defeated, when she leaves without drying her hands. It’s moot to try and commiserate with anyone. They don’t see him the way you do, not for who he is. Your coworkers love Johnny; you’ve seen someone genuinely fistpump after being scheduled with him. 

They don’t see any of the weird shit though. They don’t see the way he insists on walking you to your car well into the evening after a closing shift together. They don’t notice the way Johnny laughs a little too hard and with too much vigour when someone calls him your shadow, his eyes just a little too bright and fervent. 

They’re never around to see him ask if you want to sit on his lap while he shows you how to use the forklift in the backroom. They’ve never seen him beg management to let him take his breaks with you and doesn't let you have a moment of peace, just sits with you in the breakroom or follows you to your car when you say that you're going out for lunch. 

Sometimes you look at him and think, this guy should not be in the Appliance section of a big box store. Johnny should be on the front cover of magazines, in commercials for toothpaste, acting in Hallmark movies, or maybe hand modelling for obscenely ornate watch companies that cost the equivalent of a mortgage—not handing out free samples of sliced cheese.

That was then.

It starts like this: an overeager sales associate who butts his way to the front of the line on your first day. 

You think at first that you’re golden. It seems like a sweet deal—an easy enough job, maybe not what you went to school for, but still something to pass the time and not too backbreaking. Plus, the guy shaking your hand and chatting up a storm in front of you is making you melt inside. He’s easy on the eyes—all bright smiles, effortless charm, either just brushing or exactly six feet, and built. Broad shouldered and lean. 

Johnny’s a model employee as well—knows the handbook inside and out, and shows you the ropes on your first day along with the assistant manager giving you a tour of the store, which is helpful because there’s at least three floors that you could easily get lost on. He walks elderly customers to their cars with their bags, shows up to work early for every shift, always with a smile and a positive attitude, and you find out early on that management loves him because of his frankly incredible sales record. 

(And you get it too; you can’t imagine anyone looking into those gorgeous blue eyes and turning him down.)

He's also a spokesperson for the company in all of their internal training videos because he was hired through some “Jobs for Vets” program that they just rolled out. The guy can also stack things on a shelf like no one's business, products lined up with military precision (hence the ex-military status). 

All in all, you can’t help feeling like for once in your life, you didn’t draw the short stick. 

Then one day, you’re alone with Johnny in the breakroom early in the morning before the store has opened yet and he turns to you with a wide, boyish grin and says apropos of nothing, “Named my fleshlight after you.”

You think your brain skips a couple tracks like a record player. You rewind and replay what was just said to you. There’s no two ways about it—you must have misheard him. Of course you did because surely your coworker of two months didn’t just look you in the eyes and say with a sweet sunshine smile that he named his sex toy after you. 

He doesn’t laugh, just stands there and smiles while stirring sugar into his coffee. He takes it black. You take note of that because the brain still has to work when the mind shuts down momentarily, so you use it instead to catalogue things around the breakroom. One of the motivational posters hanging near the door is hung a bit off-centre. The fluorescent lightbulb on the far side of the room is dimmer than the others. Johnny’s eyes have a little light spot in them like the tip of an ocean wave.

“Excuse me?” you ask, dumbfounded. Your voice sounds hollow even to you.

“I named her after ye,” he repeats, not a trace of shame in his voice. “Used ta not have a name at all, but figured since I say it so much when I’m enjoyin’ her, she might as well share it with ya.” 

He stares at you after saying that, letting it hang in the air. Your brain chooses that moment to come back online and all it can do is load that image of Johnny home alone with his fleshlight, toes curled in his sheets and the muscles of his legs straining as he moans your name. All you can do is give a little awkward laugh, growing more uncomfortable by the second the longer he stares at you without blinking. 

Then, something passes over his eyes and suddenly he's back to normal, laughing and clapping you on the arm before wandering off to the men's apparel section. 

It leaves you reeling for the rest of the day, sure you imagined it. It recontextualizes a few things for you though. He’s always been on the handsy side, verging on inappropriate, but skirting just enough around the edges of it that you usually brush off Johnny’s weird behaviour. Chalk it up to annoying little brotherly tendencies. You know he has a few older sisters anyway; you figured it was just how he related to women in his environment.

Not so. 

It escalates after that initial escalation. Not that things started off on an appropriate note, but at least before you could rationalize most of his quirks.

Now it’s this: his hand on your lower back during work hours when you’re busy helping a customer and he sidles up next to you, pinkie brushing so low on your back that you worry for a second that he might slip it down the back of your pants. Lifting you up by the hips whenever you have a hard time reaching something on a shelf instead of just reaching up and grabbing it for you. A complete misuse of his height. He digs his fingers into your sides and never lets you go right away when he puts you down. 

“Aw shit, bonnie,” he coos when you complain about it hurting you. “Dinnae mean ta hurt ye. Want me to give ye a little massage in the breakroom?” 

You learn quickly that there’s no point in complaining about his behaviour to anyone. You can't complain to any of your coworkers because the second you so much as criticize his work, they bark at you to be nice to him. He's just re-acclimating to civilian life, of course he's not perfect at his job yet, they say. They defend him almost viciously; the real jealous ones even tell on you in front of him, leaving you to stand there embarrassed and on the spot until Johnny just smiles and says that it's alright. That you'll just have to teach him better. 

There’s not much you can do besides grin and bear it. You can hope one day that you'll get transferred; you don't have much hope for him being transferred. Not with how endeared he is to management.

When you finally open the door, ready to leave the bathroom and get back to work, you nearly scream when Johnny lurches off the wall across from the bathroom door where he’s been leaning. Waiting for you.

“C��mon, hen,” he says, all teeth. “Lemme walk ye back ta work.”

[ghast1yghosts]

nsfw ish

steddie fuckin on a canvas using body safe paints.

it hangs in the living room above the couch. & as much as it makes them giggle and give each other a /look/ when someone compliments it—it’s also really special bc it’s literally representing their love & devotion

imagine the first time they pick like purple and yellow to use and it just turns fucking brown. they’re more strategic in their choices next time.

(maybe like blue and pink—maybe some black. no red for obvious reasons)

i feel like they do it all the time after they figure out how fun it is. most of their wall art becomes handmade /abstract/.

them trying to gift Robin one as a house warming gift and she outright REFUSES (bc she knows) and everyone is like “thats so mean wth 🤨”

THE PARTY BEING CONFUSED WHEN LUCAS AND MAX MOVE AND THEY DON’T GET A “STEVE AND EDDIE ORIGINAL”

they hold an intervention and all leave staring at the floor, tempted to never talk to either of them again.

eventually they get over it and actually think it’s kinda cute (if they don’t think about it for long).

wait- the party then asking them to make one for Hopper as a gag- (the byers/hop clan are out numbered). Hopper not caring much about it and Joyce /knowingly/ winking and hanging it up for a few weeks—she then returns it to them (maybe she even asks where they got the paint).

anyways—the showers that happen after. gently washing the other with the utmost care and attentiveness. little chaste kisses as the water turns cool. soft touches as they dry off together too.

maybe they do try red paint one time. its fine but then it’s suddenly not. the paint all the sudden too dark, too tacky. seemingly more and more spreads onto their hands & the canvas. Steve notices Eddie tense before he takes in the color too.

them immediately pressing their foreheads together—whispering quiet “it’s ok—you’re ok—i’m ok.” shakily walking to the bathroom—clinging to each other—having to close their eyes or stare deeply at the other to ignore the way the red paint swirls down the drain all too familiar.

i made it sad. why did i make it sad

nsfw ish again

ok consider—them dressing up all nice too in lingerie and stuff. having to throw them out afterwards bc they’re now drenched in dried paint.

if some of the colored spots are mascara, eyeliner or lipstick—no one’s the wiser.

[sister-lucifer]

can we get gross pervy dom toby content 🙏

Some Gross Pervy Dom Toby Content 

Toby Rogers x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: NSFW 

Summary: There is really no plot to be summarized, Toby’s just a horndog and he chased you down. good fuckin luck  

Content/Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon elements, implied stalking, horror elements, Toby being creepy, Toby smells you and touches you in the weirdest manner you can possibly imagine, NSFW with minimal (mostly implied) plot, no real sex happens just fucked up shit, no seriously this is nasty as fuck i’m getting put on a list for this 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

A/N: Just to avoid confusion, in my headcanon Toby has a stutter as well as but separate from his tourette’s; i’m writing his stutter, not his tics! thankies!

also READ THE FUCKING WARNINGS THIS ONE IS NASTY

Staring down the barrel of a loaded gun would fill you with less dread than staring up at the lanky boy who’s currently towering over you. 

You don’t have to look at him to know there’s a twisted smile filled with crooked, chipped teeth spread across his face, hazel eyes scrunched at the corners as he grins like a madman. You don’t want to look at him, really, but you can’t stop yourself before you’re slowly craning your neck to see. Slowly his face comes into view, and it’s even more unsettling than you could prepare for. 

His messy brown hair flicks up in all directions and partly obscures his eyes, and yet they seem to glow in the dim light of the sunset. One of his arms is above you, folded against the wall, while the other cages you into the corner. Besides his fingers drumming restlessly, he’s not moving, but his entire body is trembling with….excitement? His chest is heaving like he’s struggling to breathe, and the uncomfortable feeling of his warm exhale fanning over your face makes you shudder, and…oh god, is he drooling over you? Shit—

You press yourself hard against the wall, face burning hot against the cool air of the drafty abandoned building. Something tells you you shouldn’t take your eyes off of him for too long, but in your peripheral vision you can see through the broken windows. There’s nothing but trees in all directions, and the sky is rapidly darkening with each passing second. You’re watching any chance you had of escaping in the daylight slip from your fingers. Everything is becoming much too disorienting much too fast, thoughts racing and overlapping and screaming at you to do something, but you can’t. All at once you’re trying to figure out an escape plan, how to appease your captor for long enough to execute an escape plan, and how you even got here in the first place. 

The last thing you remember is running from him, the branches of the thicket grabbing at your pants and arms as if trying to hold you back. You had no choice but to run into the old hospital, but now you’re wishing you’d simply kept going. 

You must’ve moved too much for Toby’s liking, because he suddenly grabs onto your arm with a grip that feels strong enough to snap the bone in two. You yelp in pain, a second gloved hand quickly clamping over your mouth. The echo of your cry rings loud in your ears, and for a moment you wonder if it’ll ever go quiet again. 

“You…you…” Toby stutters, and your eyes widen at the sound of his voice. You aren’t sure what you were expecting to hear, but he just sounds so…normal, like any other nineteen year old boy, except if it were anyone else in any other scenario a mere couple of syllables wouldn’t strike such fear into you. 

“You ran a loooong t-time…” He scolds, but his grin doesn’t falter. He brings his hand away from your mouth to shake a finger at you, seemingly trusting you not to scream. 

Not like it would matter. You made him chase you pretty far in. 

In an instant his hands are on your waist, slipping under your shirt and eagerly grabbing at the soft flesh he finds beneath. You have to bite your tongue to hold back another yelp. 

“Oh, ooohh but it w-was worth it!” Toby slurs with a drawl, “I’ve f-finally fooouund yooouu, aha…” 

He sounds so proud of himself. Something about his tone is almost childish, deceivingly so. He truly thinks he’s done something amazing. 

Your heart skips a beat when he suddenly freezes, face going void of all emotion, and you wonder if you’ve truly angered him. If you did, would that be the mistake that ended it all? 

Fortunately, it seems he was just changing gears. You panic when you realize he’s leaning in towards you, but he moves past your face to practically bury his nose in your neck, taking a long and deep breath. He lets out a faint laugh as he breathes out, and it feels like a horrible sensation crawling down your spine. The only thing you can do is grab onto his arms, nails digging into the dirty and worn fabric of his hoodie. It’s practically caked with dried mud in some areas and you can feel the dry cracking beneath your hands. 

“I m-missed your…your s-smell…” Toby whispers. You’re confused for a moment, and it takes a few seconds for it all to set in. 

‘Missed?’ 

He’d…smelled you before? 

He ‘missed’ you… 

“I-I should have…should have visited m-more…I-I got ssso busy, b-but I didn’t forget you, I-I promise…” 

He keeps talking, but it starts to fade out. Only a few words matter, anyways. 

There’s an incredibly brief moment of clarity that flashes through your mind, a split second flicker of understanding that you hadn’t just been misplacing or losing things, that you weren’t imagining all those noises or shadows that you told yourself were childish things to be afraid of, and it nearly floods your brain before it disappears as quickly as it appeared. Maybe you purposefully pushed it out, at least for now. There was too much going on to process the past. If you were lucky enough to get out of this alive, you could reflect then. 

You’re frozen for a few moments as Toby’s idle hands begin to wander, as they always do. He’s at least considerate enough to feel you up through your clothes, but that doesn’t stop you from sucking in a harsh breath through your teeth when he roughly gropes your ass. It forces you to push yourself into him as you try to get away from the aggressive grip. You can feel him laugh with his chest pressed flush against yours. 

He takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, and it’s become painfully obvious that he’s much stronger than he looks. You’d never expect someone so skinny to be able to manhandle you like this. 

He sways slowly from side to side as he holds you, one unsteady hand toying with your hair in a gesture that, on Toby’s end, seems as though it is meant to be sincere. 

“Th-There’s so much I want t-to do to y— to do with y-you…so little time…” He goes on muttering to himself over something or other, but you can’t understand him as he trails off. 

He seems preoccupied with his own thoughts, distracted enough that you begin to squirm. He doesn’t react, continuing to quietly rant about nothing while stroking your head. You struggle again, a bit bolder this time. Nothing. 

Maybe you actually had a chance, you just had to slip away. Hell, maybe you’d get lucky and run the right way on the first try; for all you know you’re only a mile away from a highway, that could be your lifeline. You just had to slip away— 

“Stop it! Stop doing that!” 

…Easier said than done, it seems. 

Hearing Toby yell, seemingly allowing a genuine flash of anger to overtake him as he slams you back against the wall, chills you to the core. He was unpredictable, bouncing back and forth between the extremes of whatever emotion he was feeling, making it impossible to plan around his potential actions. 

His hand splays out across your chest to keep you pinned to the wall. He’s applying much more pressure than he needs to, and he knows it. His smile twitches as you struggle to recover from having the wind knocked out of you. 

When he reaches back for his pocket, you expect him to pull out a weapon; maybe a knife, or even a small handgun you somehow hadn’t noticed. 

But no. He returns with something much smaller, and your brows furrow in confusion as you struggle to make out the shape among the shadows that have quickly taken over your space. 

“What’s t-the matter?” Toby asks, “Never seen a-a condom before?”

He snickers cruelly at the way your mouth hangs open in reply. 

“Whaaaat? I-I’m trying to be nice…don’t be a bitch.” 

“N…Nice?!” You choke out in reply, and this time Toby’s jaw drops. 

“Oh, it does speak!” He exclaims with genuine excitement. “Good, good…s-so good…” 

He holds the corner of the wrapper in his mouth so that his hand can be free to fumble with his belt. The sound of the buckle clanking as he slips it off makes your stomach flip. Your gaze flicks quickly back and forth from his pants back to his eyes, and he hasn’t stopped staring at you. You haven’t even seen him blink. 

His tongue runs over his glistening teeth as he prepares to speak again: 

“I h-hope you squeal for me, pretty thing…When we’re done here, I’m t-takin’ you with me…” 

[matchadobo]

KIDD; kiss-proof lipstick review

warning/s: very fluff, fem reader, youtuber/streamer!kidd, shy!s/o, modern au, most nsfw thing could happen is an abrupt makeout

note: based from this -> post, smaller italicized texts are sub-bullets

kidd as a youtuber that normally does metal covers with his band (heat, killer, and wire)

has about a solid following of 100k subs bc they're just so cool

that is until his viewers asked for his makeup tut bc he always looks so bomb

his viewers have also requested fit checks like what he wears in a week

kidd forgot to mention that he has a s/o, which mildly upset a certain demographic who was ahem thirsty for him

you as his gf doesn't really mind if he talks to himself in front of his phone or camera on random times, but he always tells you a quick warning beforehand bc you sometimes appear on the bg of his vids/streamer

i also think that at some point, kidd does game streams bc he's lazy to edit. his fanbase supports any content he does whether it's just yap streams or food streams or band rehearsals

i feel like he always aims for competitive games that are pvp like MK, COD, league, etc. it just feeds his ego, and he enjoys trashtalking 😭 riling his opponent up and all that

it's all so funny, which explains his fanbase that tolerates his insufferable temper and jokes. it takes a certain kind of humor that other people might take as offensive

but the second he got sponsored by a punk make-up line, a pr box arrived at his doorstep bc he rarely checks his emails

he'd ask you to do a makeup stream with him, but you were too shy about it. especially after being the final boss of a certain demographic that is attracted to him 😭 but you never told him that. knowing him, he'll probably flip all of them off and cause drama

he'd start up stream, poorly introducing the products. you laughed to yourself at how bad he was at complimenting or kissing ass to the brand he legit has never heard of😭

kidd knows how to apply his makeup; shadow, liner, and lipstick. he tried on a purple and red shadow combo and his usual full eye liner.

his stream at that point became very chill, his fans loving every bit of his craft and how focused he was doing everything. especially at how he looked like afterward

"now we got- kiss-proof lipstick? they sent me a shit ton of fuckin' shades!" he showed a whole box of liquid lipsticks. laughing at the ridiculous amount.

his fanbase requested a test of the kiss proof on his palm, showing interest in the product

but kidd had different ideas. it might be a good way to hard launch you already.

his ig and twt already had pictures of you during dates, but your face was always hidden most of the time

"a test on my palm? oh boy, i have a better idea for that."

he'd call you, "babe! baby! c'mere a moment, i need ya a bit."

his chat would go: "babe?!?! omg hard launch?!", "omg here is his s/o!", "OH GOD KIDD YOU SLICK CHEEKY FUCK!"

you'd be scared for a bit, but kidd looked really excited. besides you also want to check out his makeup products.

"are we gonna do it together?" you muttered lowly, referring to the review

"kinda." he shrugged. "i just got one lil job for you, you'd love it promise."

you were skeptical at first but oh well. kidd lets you pick the lipstick of your choice, which was a bright red. it always looks good on him.

the chat was highkey going crazy when your body from neck below was showing

they also noticed how kidd started acting differently, he spoke softly and he had this meek smile while looking up at you

he lets you apply it on him. you were now seating with the seat he pulled to let you down. the chat now being able to see you. you waved a hi shyly, and man the view count started going up

twt was already full of you guys 😖

kidd then fanned his lips, waiting for the product to dry.

"ok, what's next?" you asked, popping the lid close

"this." he grabbed the back of your head and kissed you on stream. holding the kiss pretty good in there, smirking through it as he did so, before sucking on your lips open

you were too flustered and frozen but he even had the audacity to angle his head the other way to continue kissing you

it was pretty fucking lewd, he was really getting in there

but you, you melted from his lips and his firm grip on your nape

the chat and stream lagged at the amount of chats and view counts increasing exponentially

once he pulled away after a good 2 minutes, he turned to the screen and said, "so? it really is kiss proof, aye?" he bursted out laughing at your reaction which was the same when he started kissing you 🤣

the chat also went hysterical, both from freaking out with the both of you and your reaction

you honestly didn't mind, you half expected it. it's kidd we're talking about🤣 because kidd did it as a flex and as a fuck you to his haters (especially those who were targeting you)

you had to excuse yourself which resulted to even more comedic response from kidd at how cute you are. you were burning red btw

you later come back to tell kidd and chat that you're okay, and you plan to get back on him for that

JASDHSAJDJSAJDSA I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!! JUST DID THIS LAST NIGHT

[thewertsearch]

Another flashback, eh?

...nah, I'm not buying it. I think it's a lot more likely that this is another dream bubble. Dave has temporarily died, and he's taking a little pit stop in the afterlife.

TG: heres one for you TG: its a whopper TG: are you ready TT: For what? TG: this huge fuckin whopper im about to just say […] TG: im talking about a dream i just had

Bubble or not, this is still a flashback to a real event - which means that Rose really does make a hobby of analyzing Dave's dreams. Sorry, but that's kind of adorable.

TT: You mean a canard of behemothic embellishment? […] TT: Or was your resolve finally dismantled by the siren's song of all that flame broiled beef? […] TG: ok first do you even have burger kings out in the fucking woods TG: why do you reference things that obviously arent in the woods like terrible burgers TT: I'll limit my establishments of reference to lumber mills and sugar shanties from now on.

Pretty sure I know what’s happening here. Some fans looked up the GPS coordinates for Rose’s house, realized that she’d probably lived in the woods all her life, and jokingly ragged on her for making references she shouldn't know about.

TT: Also, there's a Burger King less than forty minutes from my house. [...]

She lives in the countryside, guys. Not Mars.

TG: i mean it was a doozy like psychologically speaking TG: doozy is a slightly dumber word than whopper TT: Certainly less delicious. TG: it was absurdly heavy handed my subconscious was really slathering it on

Lest we forget, Dave was awake on Derse before the session had even started. He may not have been consciously aware of that fact...

...but that hasn’t stopped a few things from leaking in from the other side.

TG: its possible that i dreamt it ironically i dunno

LMAO

Alright, that may have been the funniest thing Dave has ever said.

TG: are you busy TT: Yes. TG: cool listen to this

S I B L I N G S.

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-one of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” ( no cut today, we die like Steph's tolerance for her dad's bullshit ). prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He should be taking notes, Tim realizes. This is a new and unprecedented level of supervillain behavior that his fifteen-year plan can only aspire to reach. 

“Asdfghjk,” he says, which is apparently actually an actual sound that an actual person can actually make, go figure. Learn something new every day. 

Kon laughs at him, the fucking bastard. Tim would probably swear vengeance but unfortunately Kon looks way too damn pretty and way too damn happy doing it and is not wearing a single thing he didn't buy him and bought him a camera with his first allowance and wants to see him skateboard and has also laughed so many times tonight that Tim is starting to develop the opposite of a tolerance for it. Like, he's getting weaker and weaker to it the more exposure he gets, which is in his opinion total bullshit and totally unfair but is unfortunately still happening. 

. . . well, not necessarily unfortunately, since it’s specifically happening because Kon keeps laughing and looking happy about it, but that’s besides the point. Somehow. In some way. Just–somehow. 

“You’re so fuckin’ cute, babe,” Kon says, grinning at him again. He keeps doing that too. He keeps laughing, and grinning, and just–just all these things that Tim is not prepared for and honestly doesn’t even know how he could’ve been? There’s having five minutes of prep time and there’s situations that are just impossible to prepare for because how could he have fucking KNOWN. How?! How could he ever have?!?!

Literally not possible, Tim is certain. 

“You’re actually incorrigible,” he says, quickly flipping his dropped board onto its wheels with a foot and then giving it a quick pop to the tail and hooking a foot underneath it to kick it up into his hand. Kon looks delighted, his eyes immediately lighting up. 

“Sick!” he says. Tim felt like maybe he was getting in a win for a second there, except Kon being genuinely delighted is actually even worse and he thinks he’s just, like, kind of screwed in general now? Kon’s not supposed to be genuinely delighted by things, he’s supposed to pretend to be too cool to be impressed or just jealous that someone else is getting attention! 

Tim really, really could not have ever been prepared for this. 

“So like, do you know any cool tricks?” Kon asks with a wider grin, still looking way too genuine about his excitement. Tim is resigned to ruining his best non-funerary/non-gala slacks and possibly also his shirt and definitely also his dignity. His dignity is as scuffed as the shoe he just dropped his board on, and frankly that’s being optimistic. 

Extremely optimistic. 

“I know a couple okay ones,” Tim says, since Robin-level parkour doesn’t count as either “tricks” or anything he could show Kon, and also he’s screamingly out of practice, and also he was never really that good a skateboarder even when he had the time to do it regularly, plus skill decay is a thing and– 

“That mean you’re gonna show me a trick or two, daddy?” Kon asks, grinning slyly at him.

[memento-rory]

✭ 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭. 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐚, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒃.

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and ted get a little too close for schlatt’s comfort at the club, and you finally tell someone what happened between you and schlatt all those months ago.

✭ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a little ted x reader and a steamy dance scene.

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~3k

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i realize that i’ve taken four chapters to get through one entire day, and i hope y’all are cool with that lmao. i’m sure it will keep happening again. a week was a little ambitious, but fiwb. no beta, we die like men here. (if you ever see a mistake, you are legally obligated to tell me.) enjoy! 🩵

Blue and purple lights illuminate a steady swirl of fog coming out of machines near the DJ’s stage, the bass of the loud music completely overtaking all of your senses. You can feel the reverb under your skin, and the hairs on your arm stand at attention. The dance floor toward the front of the building is full of bodies, so many people dancing all their cares away.

“I’m gonna get you beautiful ladies a round of shots!” James yells as he pokes his head in between you and Amelia. “You find us a place to chill!”

Amelia takes your hand and leads you through the crowds of people standing around and talking, weaving your way around the large space, before finally finding a table big enough to house your entire party. You scoot into the booth with Amelia close behind you, grinning over at her, already absolutely buzzing about the night you’re about to have.

James had been sure that Ted and Schlatt would have shown up by the time he got back to the table with shots, but he’s wrong, so he offers you and Amelia the two extra shots. You down them, grimacing as the shot burns all the way down. James has also gone ahead and ordered your favorite drink, which you sip on as you wait for Ted and Schlatt to arrive. Amelia and James take to the floor, dragging you along with them.

You sway along to the music, the alcohol already beginning to course through your veins. It’s been a while since you’ve drank, since you’ve really let loose. The last time was… well… you don’t want to dwell on it.

Ted stands in front of the mirror, running his hand through his hair once, twice, three times, trying to get it perfect. He adjusts the string of pearls around his neck, the rings on his fingers. He catches Schlatt’s eyes in the mirror, quirking an eyebrow at the scowl on his face.

“Dude, you look fine, can we fuckin’ go?” Schlatt says, half-laying on the bed, “You’re taking fuckin’ forever.”

“Fuckin’… sue me for wanting look nice,” Ted laughs at Schlatt’s impatience. “Did you see how good (Y/N) looks?”

Schlatt bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “Barely even looked at her, man.” The lie slips out of his mouth so easily, and he’s glad Ted is none the wiser.

“Well, I looked at her. Got a realll good look,” Ted shoots Schlatt a pointed look, before returning to his preening, “Can’t look like some kinda chump next to her.”

Schlatt rolls his eyes, his skin heating up at Ted’s words. He tries to ignore the feeling, but something comes over him.

“You’re not her type, man.” Schlatt says casually, before he can stop it. Ted thinks Schlatt’s just trying to get a rise out of him, so he only laughs, unbothered by Schlatt’s statement.

“Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

It’s difficult, but for once, Schlatt keeps his thoughts to himself.

You’re two shots and one fruity little drink deep when Schlatt and Ted finally show up. Amelia and James are still out on the dance floor, but you’re at the bar ordering another round of drinks and shots for Ted and Schlatt after they’d texted they were on their way.

When you spot Ted and Schlatt looking for your group, you lift a hand up, waving them over. Ted beams as he catches your eye, sauntering over to the bar, with Schlatt close behind.

“Hey, hot stuff,” Ted sidles up to you at the bar, looming over you, punctuating his greeting with a cheeky wink. “Come here often?” He asks, intentionally deepening his voice to draw a laugh from you. It works, causing you to giggle at him. (Ted’s always been funny, but he’s even funnier now that you’re tipsy.)

“Shut up,” You laugh, rolling your eyes at him. You think you catch Schlatt doing the same out of the corner of your eye, but you can’t be sure. “I ordered your drinks. You’ve got some catching up to do.”

“Yeah?” Ted smiles mischievously down at you, “Are you feelin’ it?”

“I’m feelin’ it,” You confirm with a carefree laugh, nodding your head.

As if on cue, the bartender serves up your shots and Ted and Schlatt’s drinks. “Take my shot,” You tell Ted, handing the small glass over to him, “I’ve gotta pace myself or shit’s gonna go south real fast.” You giggle.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Ted grins, downing the two shots with ease, grimacing slightly. He turns to pass Schlatt a shot and his drink, but Schlatt’s already on the other side of the club, talking to Amelia and James.

Ted merely shrugs and so do you. How are you supposed to care when Ted is standing in front of you, playfully flirting with you while looking absolutely delicious?

“Are you having fun?” Ted asks you, watching you intently as you wrap your lips around the straw in your drink.

“Not yet,” You smirk at him, the alcohol in your system granting you a new kind of confidence, “I was waiting for you to get here.”

Ted’s eyes light up at your statement. “Yeah?” He asks, with a sly grin. He looks like he’s up to no good, and you’re eating it up. “Let me show you a good time.”

Ted downs his drink, before taking your hand in his, leading you out onto the dance floor. You abandon the rest of your drink at the bar, not particularly caring about it at the moment.

Once you hit the dance floor, Ted raises your hand in the air, gracefully spinning you. When you face him again, he drops your hand onto his shoulder, using his other hand to pull you closer to him by your waist. You’re nearly pressed against him, swaying along to the music, with Ted’s firm grip on your waist. The energy in the room is fucking electric, and it only makes you bolder. You turn around, your back up against Ted’s chest. One of your arms snakes up behind you to rest your hand at the back of his neck, and you slowly drag yourself down against him, swaying your hips. You can feel Ted’s breath on your neck as you come back up, and his hand slips underneath the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare skin.

You move your hand to rest on his cheek, holding him close to you. As you touch him, his grip on your skin grows even tighter, and you hear him sigh against your ear. The sound sends a shiver down your spine.

Ted lets you lead, his body moving in tandem with yours, matching all the cues you give him. You can feel yourself getting lost in the music, in him. He feels so good pressed up against you, and your mind wanders as he grinds up on you to the beat. Your eyes close as you let the music flow through you.

When you open your eyes, you notice Schlatt on the other side of the dance floor. He has his eyes fixed on you while some random girl practically feels him up, gyrating against him without shame. His hand lazily rests on the girl’s back, inching dangerously close to her barely-covered ass. His eyebrow quirks just slightly as he realizes you’re watching them.

You maintain eye contact as Ted’s face draws closer to your neck, his lips just barely grazing across your skin. You let your head drop a little lower to give Ted easier access to your neck, and his fingers squeeze at your hip.

Schlatt’s demeanor changes almost imperceptibly, his expression hardening and one of his fists clenching at his side.

His eyes never leave yours, even as the girl he’s dancing with leans up to practically shove her tongue in Schlatt’s mouth. You can almost feel your blood boiling beneath your skin, a scowl forming on your face before you can stop it.

Satisfied that he’s received a reaction from you, Schlatt’s eyes flutter closed as he threads a hand into the girl’s hair, pulling her closer and unabashedly making out with her in the middle of the dance floor.

Your stomach drops and you start to feel entirely too hot under all the lights, all of the heat coming from the bodies around you threatening to suffocate you. You think about stepping off the floor for a break, just to get your wits about you again, but you don’t want to give Schlatt the satisfaction. Instead, you turn back around to face Ted, deciding to turn up the heat yourself.

Ted’s face is unbelievably close to yours as the two of you hit every beat. He’s sporting a wolf-like grin, his eyes half-lidded and staring into your own. The way he’s eyeing you makes you think you’re not alone in having inappropriate thoughts about the two of you together.

Ted has always been handsome, there’s no doubting that, but this is uncharted territory. You’ve known Ted for a good chunk of your life, he’s been one of your closest friends for as long as you can remember. You have a feeling that if you were to do anything, the two of you could be normal about it afterward. What happens at weddings stays at weddings, or whatever.

Ted’s face dips lower, and his eyes dart to your lips, then back up. You move your hand back up to rest at the base of his neck, pulling him to you to close the gap. He tastes like the drinks he downed just a while ago, and almost equally intoxicating.

“Oh, my God!” You hear Amelia yelling beside you, and Ted pulls away from you, clearly amused. Amelia covers her mouth with her hand, looking apologetic for her drunken outburst.

“Sorry, sorry, oh my god.” Amelia shouts over the music, waving her hands, “You guys keep going. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“All good, Mel,” Ted shouts back, waving his own hand dismissively, “We’ve got plenty of time to do that later.” He adds, flirtatiously.

You feel a heat pool in your abdomen at his words. Amelia looks scandalized, but ecstatic nonetheless. James is shockingly quiet beside her, and you follow his gaze to the other side of the dance floor.

Schlatt is gone.

Hours go by before the rest of you are ready to head back to the hotel.

You’ve had many drinks, and your feet hurt like a bitch from all the dancing. Ted keeps you steady as you walk back to your room, his arm around your shoulder, but he’s also fairly drunk, so the two of you are just stumbling and giggling down the hallway.

“I didn’t know you were rooming next to Schlatt.” Ted remarks as you get to your room.

“Don’t remind me.” You let out a little laugh as you fish your key card out of your purse. Once you get the door open, you look over at Ted, who is just watching you with a hopeful look that he’s too drunk to hide on his face.

“Did you wanna come in?” You ask him, “Maybe have a glass of champagne on the balcony?”

Ted’s eyes light up. “Fuck yeah I do.”

You give him a smile and gesture for him to follow you inside, letting the door click shut behind you.

You plop down onto your bed, eager to get your heels off, but as you fiddle with the buckle, you realize you’re a little too drunk to get them off. You huff out a sigh, and Ted laughs, making his way over to you.

“C’mon,” Ted says as he stands in front of you, motioning for you to lift your leg up to him, “Lemme help.”

You raise your leg up, and Ted guides your foot to rest on his stomach so he has better access to the buckles of your heels. He unbuckles one slowly, moving his hand to your calf to let your leg drop gently, before doing the same with the other one. His touch lingers on your other leg, and he smiles down at you, like he’s just waiting for another chance to kiss you.

You find yourself thinking about Schlatt just next door. Part of you doesn’t give a shit, but another part of you wonders if it would be fucked up to fuck his friend where he could easily hear it.

Another part of you wishes it was him.

Clearing your throat to cut through the tension between you and Ted, you stand up from the bed, making your way to the minibar. “How about that drink?” You suggest, grabbing a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

The cool air coming off of the ocean hits your face as you step out onto the balcony, immediately putting you more at ease. As you sit down at the table, you notice that Schlatt’s lights are still on, spilling out between the curtains in his room. You can just barely see him through the gap, and a terrible thought hits you: Is he alone? Had he left with that girl from earlier?

“Oh, good, Schlatt’s still up,” Ted comments, grabbing his phone from his pocket, “I’d love to get into something more comfortable. I’m gonna ask him to toss me some clothes.”

Ted shoots off a text that you both see Schlatt read, and he looks up to see the two of you watching him from outside. He gets up, and you nearly gulp as you notice he’s only in his boxer briefs. He shows no intention of getting Ted’s things, and instead, closes the curtains with a look on his face that you can’t place. You both watch as his lights go out. Well, you think bitterly, at least he’s alone.

“What the fuck?” Ted scoffs, looking over at you.

You release a heavy sigh. “That’s probably my fault.”

“In what world would that be your fault?” Ted kind of laughs, but he stops as you lean back in your chair, looking a little dejected. It’s not fair for Schlatt to be mad at Ted, to treat him this way just because of you.

You wonder how to even begin to explain the situation to Ted. He notices how you struggle, and immediately starts to pour you a glass of champagne.

You give him a soft smile as he hands you the glass.

“What happened?” Ted asks softly, leaning back in his own chair, giving you the floor.

You sigh again before diving into the story. “Schlatt and I were together… for a while.”

“What?” Ted exclaims, obviously shocked. “When?”

“It was, like, a year ago,” You answer, taking a sip of the champagne. “We hooked up after Jasper’s birthday party. When the party started to wind down, we got to talking and, well, one thing led to another… It was good for, like, a month, and then all of a sudden he just… ghosted, so I don’t know why he’s so pressed now, but he is.”

“Fuuuck,” Ted commiserates with you, shaking his head. “Are you still into him?” He asks, this time as your friend, not as someone who was just about to get to hook up with you.

Had you not been drinking, you might answer differently, but with your inhibitions out the window and a kind ear being lent to you, you decide to be honest.

“Yeah, kinda.” You tell Ted, “I thought I was over it but being here with him, being in his presence at all hours of the day… it all just came back, I think.”

“So why don’t you do something about it?”

“He ghosted me. I’m not about to go back to him with my tail between my legs, hoping he’ll change his mind.”

“(Y/N), he just locked me out of my room for the night because he saw us kiss earlier.” Ted says, “Clearly he’s still feeling something for you.”

You shake your head. Ted doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know how many texts you sent, how much you cried, how hard it was to watch Schlatt act like nothing ever happened between the two of you. You’d opened yourself up to him, just for him to disappear.

“I can’t, Ted.” You finally say, taking another drink. “You can stay with me tonight, if you want. It’s my fault you’re wrapped up in this now, too.”

“Hey, I kissed you, so I’m complicit too.” Ted smiles warmly over at you, “He’ll get over it. Don’t let him bother you.”

“I’m really sorry the night turned out like this,” You can’t help the apology that spills from you, “I know you were hoping for… something else.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Ted waves a hand dismissively, fully unbothered that you’ve changed your mind about hooking up with him, “I wasn’t expecting anything. I’m having a good time either way, I promise.”

A comfortable silence settles over the two of you as you finish your drinks, just marinating in the milky glow of the moon over the ocean, enjoying the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

“You got anything I can sleep in?” Ted finally asks, and you grin over at him.

“I have a cute little pink PJ set that you’d look real cute in.” You tease, and Ted rolls his eyes, laughing.

“God, nevermind.”

You let out a cackle at his response, feeling much better than you had just moments ago. It feels good to finally tell someone what happened with Schlatt. You let yourself bask in the comfort of it all, because you know that once tomorrow comes, you’re in for some more torture when Schlatt finds out Ted stayed with you for the night.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 ✭ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 →

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

more of jessie lying wetly

chapter one

chapter two

cool art by @hamandeggbun

and brand new shiny chapter three. on god I am not allowed to post another one until I finish writing chapter ten.

The interior decor of One-Eyed Polly’s had changed precious little since the last time Jessie saw it, although the floors were a little more scratched up and the felt on the pool table had acquired some upsetting new stains. The only thing that had changed was the enormous NO SMOKING sign on the back wall, right where everyone could see it. 

The second she stepped inside of the bar the universe conspired to give her the entrance of a stranger blowing into town in an old Western, with the jukebox pausing between songs and conversation hitting a lull just as she stepped on a creaky floorboard, drawing all eyes to herself. She flashed an ice cold Frostbite smile, tossed her hair, and wished desperately that she’d worn her costume. It would make her look like a total douchebag, sure, but it would also remind everyone she was dangerous.  

Jessie strode back to the bar like it was a catwalk anyway, but the whispers and mutters that followed her were not promising.

“Still owes me twenty dollars.”

“Did I tell you she blocked me?”

“I thought she got arrested.”

“What did Sub-Zero say?”

Okay. Okay. Not awesome, but it was fine. They could say anything they wanted about her, but how many of these washouts and wannabes would actually try anything? None of them. They didn’t know that she was unarmed and floundering without her brother. She hadn’t worn her costume because she didn’t need to; her reputation was still strong enough to protect her. Not to mention she wanted all of these dweebs to see her wearing jeans that cost more than their mortgage payments and choke on the jealousy.

Maudie was behind the bar, grayer and butcher than ever. Her face was lined now, enough that it gave Jessie pause. Was her godmother getting old now? When did that happen?

Not that Maud was letting it soften her up at all. She raised a bushy brow at Jessie by way of greeting and launched right into putting her through the wringer. “Well, well. Look at that. A real-deal supervillain graces us with her presence. Thank you for deigning to descend from the gravy train, your highness.” 

“Aww, Maudie, come on. Don’t be like that, it’s my birthday.”

“As if I don’t know. Did you get your card?”

“Did you send one?”

Maud rolled her eyes, hard. “Of course I sent one. What kind of schmuck do you take me for?”

Of course she wouldn’t know; Jessie hadn’t checked her mailbox in at least a week. 

She realized, with despair, that there were tears crowding up around the edges of her eyes, little pinpricks begging to be let loose. When had she gotten so sappy? She wasn’t even most excited about the crisp fifty dollar bill that Maudie always tucked inside of her cards, although that was a relief. It was mostly that someone had even remembered she existed and wanted to do something nice for her that was really turning her into goo. 

“Well, I appreciate it,” she said, choking down her onslaught of emotions. Maudie would hate her making a scene like that; she never knew what to do when people cried. “But, hey, I’m not here to talk about me. How are you doing? Are you feeling alright?”

“The hell do you mean, do I feel alright?”

“Well, you always said that you’d only make people stop smoking in here over your dead body. And now nobody’s smoking, so I figure you must have gotten real close to having a dead body.”

Maudie snorted. “We had a scare last year. Doctor thought he had something, turned out not to be serious. But you know how the dames are. Next thing I know, nobody’s allowed to smoke in here and I’m getting yelled at if I don’t eat vegetables and go for a fuckin’ walking every morning.”

She shook her head, fondly exasperated. The dames were the two iron-tongued femmes Maudie had been in a relationship with for decades, largely considered to be the real masterminds behind One-Eyed Polly’s. According to Maudie, they only kept her around to look pretty and serve the drinks.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jessie demanded. “We could have helped with the bills, or I could have brought over soup. Something.”

“I didn’t want to bother you, kid. Your brother made it pretty clear that you were busy.” And then, before Jessie could apologize or otherwise risk making things sentimental, Maudie cleared her throat sharply. “You want a drink, or what? First round’s free for the birthday girl.”

“Yeah? Let’s do a straight whiskey and a burger,” Jessie said, knowing damn well that she’d be drinking nothing but dirt cheap beer for the rest of the night. “Do the fries still come with that, or is it extra?”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell when I charge people extra for a side of fries. That shit comes with the burger,” Maud said gravely.

There were a lot of things that could stand to be improved about One-Eyed Polly’s, but the food was not one of them. So what if the fry cook telepathically talked with rats? He could work a grill. The basket that arrived in front of Jessie contained a beautifully constructed medium rare burger packing the exact correct amount of grease, surrounded by steak fries that had been seasoned to absolute perfection. Pardon Jessie while she drooled a little bit. 

“Hey, Maudie,” she said, half a burger later. “You still have Joney’s van?”

Her godmother raised an eyebrow a fraction of an inch, which for Maud was an expression of profound skepticism. “I’d love to know how the hell you think I could’ve lost it.”

“No no, that’s not what I meant. I just wanted to see if I could grab it from you.”

“Can’t get your car back from Voltzz, huh?”

“Hmm?” Jessie asked, playing dumb.

“Do not try the bimbo act on me, Jessica Jolene. You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

“God. How did you even hear about that?”

“Are you kidding? I hear about everything in here. We had a bunch of schlubs in here doing shots at noon because they thought Ricochet dragged you off for good.”

“Okay, tacky.” Jessie licked her lips, her mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry despite an abundance of gloss. “Maudie, can I ask you a question? It seems like I’m maybe, um, not very popular around here.”

Maud stared her down with eyes like chisels. “That’s not a question.”

“You know what I mean!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, kiddo. They hate your guts.”

“Maudie!”

Jessie’s complaining was cut short by a sweaty, nervous-looking man appearing from the kitchen and hurrying to Maudie’s side. He shot Jessie a look that could really only be described as distrustful, then leaned in close to deliver his message to Maud. She shrugged him away almost before he finished speaking, peeved by his damp proximity.

“So get her shift covered. Why do you need my permission for that? Call Billy. Or, hell, see if Tash can make it in. She’s always dying for extra shifts. Tell Jordan I’ll come sort her out in a minute and then get your ass back out here to cover the bar. The dishes can wait.”

Maudie sighed and turned back to Jessie as her dishwasher departed, shaking her head. She suddenly looked about a hundred years old. “Kid, I miss the days when the worst I had to deal with was bartenders coming in drunk.”

“What happened?”

“One of my girls, Jordan. She’s got that fucking, what do they call it? Void pox? She kept going see-through when she came in but she swore she’d be fine. Except she’s not fine, she started getting these little cartoon demons popping out of her head. Pretty harmless, only about this big, but if I never have to kill another one with a broom it’ll be too soon. Anyway, I had her sitting down in the back, but now she’s starting to make things levitate and I can’t have that. I need to find her a ride home.”

“Could I come see her?” Jessie asked with, in hindsight, way too much enthusiasm.

Her godmother hit her with a look that was genuinely withering. “You can keep your ass right here and be nice to Nikesh while he tends the bar. And you can leave Jordan alone. It’s a 24-hour bug, she’ll be back to normal tomorrow.”

“I know that!”

“So drop it, then! For once in your life, don’t get so pushy about this superhero shit.”

Maud ducked back into the kitchen on that deeply unencouraging note, sending poor Nikesh back out to hold down the bar in her stead. He studiously avoided Jessie’s gaze when she asked him how his night was going, spitting out single syllable answers until she gave up and asked for a hard cider, which he provided without once actually turning his face in her direction. Jessie dropped a five in the tip jar anyway, because she believed very firmly that you were supposed to tip generously unless the waiter had purposefully set you on fire and maybe even then. Running through the last of your money in the entire world was no excuse to be a lousy customer.

The problem being, of course, that she had hoped this would be a case of spending money to make money. She’d shell out a little for a night at One-Eyed Polly’s, reestablish herself as a villain of the people, and announce that she was hiring to thunderous applause. Henchpeople out the door, heaps of cash secured, the money that she’d pissed away on bottom shelf booze now a worthwhile investment. 

Unfortunately, all of that had depended on there being someone, anyone, left in town who didn’t hate her guts.

“Hey, Nikesh? Do you like working here?”

“It’s a living,” he said, still looking down. 

“If I offered to pay you, like, five times what you’re making right now, would you work for me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Ten times?” 

He actually looked at her for a fleeting second, his gaze touching off hers for just a moment. Jessie was vomitously aware that there was something that looked a lot like pity in his face. “Look, lady. It’s not about the money. It’s about not wanting to get my ass kicked.”

“Jesus Christ. Am I really that bad for business?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Is that why you won’t even look at me?”

“Yeah. You understand. Can’t look like we’re getting friendly.”

“Respect. You gotta look out for number one, Nikesh. I can throw a drink on you, if you want.”

“Yeah? That might be good, actually. We could make people think I said something really nasty to you. That could actually be great for my rep.”

Jessie groaned, resting her face in her hands. This was going to be an absolute non-starter. Polly’s was the biggest rat-hole in town; everyone knew that this was a place where people would turn a blind eye to almost anything. Everyone put aside their beef here, because the place would never function if they didn’t and no one wanted to be the asshole who ruined the only functioning villain bar in town. If a bartender was too scared to even look at her directly, Jessie’s reputation must be worse than dirt.

Why? Because of last night’s embarrassing little tantrum? Couldn’t be it. Nobody complained about the time Voltzz snorted bath salts and went on a rampage, or when Incinerator got drunk and started taking potshots at cop cars. Hell, if anything they’d both gotten more popular after that. Jonas might sneer at the lack of precision and control, but Jessie had tried to tell him a thousand times that people liked to see a supervillain go a little off the rails. It was aspirational, right? It let people imagine what they might do, if they had the power to really cut loose.

Why was she different? Sure, people hated to see a woman having fun, but that couldn’t possibly explain all of it. Maudie could probably explain it, whenever she finished mopping up the poor sap with the void pox. Maudie heard about everything. 

In the meantime, she might as well try to make the most of her evening. If she wasn’t going to be making new friends, she could at least have a little fun. Who cared about her bank account? If she was screwed, she might as well go out with a splash. 

“Nikesh? Open me up a tab. It’s my birthday and I want shots.”

***

Jessie Chilton was not a lightweight. Despite spending most of her early life watching her father get eaten alive by booze she had an exceedingly friendly relationship with alcohol, and could usually hold her drinks pretty well. Jonas had never touched the stuff, erring hard on the side of caution, but Jessie knew that she could stop any time she wanted.

Her miserable 26th birthday was not that time. That night she drank like the world was going to end, because it very possibly was. Her world, at least, and what else was she supposed to worry about? She knew damn well the scope of what she could be held responsible for, and presently it was mostly downing as much tequila as she could.

Which meant she ended up in the bathroom, eventually, because all of that liquid had to go somewhere, and in the time-honored tradition of wasted girls everywhere she got weird about it. While Jessie sat in the cramped and questionably-lit stall she started thinking about how she’d very nearly been born in this very room and what a miserably inauspicious start that was, and how perhaps she should have known that her life was always doomed to go down the toilet despite a decade or so of delusionally believing that she might be meant for something better. She wished that she had some friends to cry to, and briefly regretted the loss of Whirligig. Getting sloppy drunk and crying in club bathrooms together had been about the only thing that friendship was good for, but sometimes that was all she needed it to be. 

In the absence of anywhere else to turn Jessie called the person who had almost always been there for her, until he spectacularly wasn’t.

Hey, Joney. It’s your favorite sister. And I know what you’re thinking: ‘Jessie, you’re my only sister, why are you doing exposition like a lunatic?’ Well, it’s because you haven’t been acting like I’m your favorite sister lately, or like you even know me, so I figured maybe you needed the reminder.

Did you even notice it’s my birthday? You’ve never forgotten it in my entire life. But you know who remembered? Uncle Ray. And Maud. And that’s fucking it. And Ricochet was soooOOOOOOoooo mean to me this morning. Like, you wouldn’t believe. She’s getting way too cocky, if you ask me. You should come back and kick her ass into orbit. Remind her who’s boss around here.

You should come back in general, actually. I miss you. But I’m also mad at you. It’s, like, a real dick move to take off and not even leave me with any money. I mean, I had money. Past-tense. But it’s gone now. I could have, like, I could have definitely spent it better. Smarter? I got these really stupid expensive boots with real crystals on them and then when I tried to return them they said I couldn’t because there was a scuff on the toe, which is like… whatever. I’m wearing them right now even though they’re way too fancy for Polly’s. Might as well get my money’s worth.

But I also just don’t have anything. Like, where’s the bank account? Where is the bank account, Jonas? I earned half that money, so why can’t I… I mean, you literally never told me how to get into it. To my money. Which I guess in hindsight was, like, I should have had a problem with that way sooner, but you made it sound extremely reasonable! And now I’m this close to Uncle Ray throwing me out on my ass, because I couldn’t pay the May rent and I can’t pay the June rent, either, at the rate things are going. I opened a tab at Polly’s and I don’t have enough to pay it, so now Maudie’s going to be mad at me, I think. I don’t know, I’m not even actually sure how a tab works. Isn't that stupid? I'm, like, so mad at myself lately got how much stuff I don't know.

Everybody’s mad at me.

And you won’t even call me back, and I can’t even afford toilet paper, so that’s, like, a lot. And I’m not handling it well. And I’m drank as a skank at Polly’s, in case you couldn’t tell, so go ahead and get your panties twisted up about that. I’m fucking spiraling, buddy. I’m in my fucking up era out here.

So. You should come home.

Or at least tell me where you are or what you’re doing or why you left, okay? Because I hate no knowing that. We’re supposed to tell each other things. And I’m scared about what’s going to happen if you’re gone much longer because, like, everything is going wrong. And I think you might have really left me screwed here, okay? Which is crazy, because it was supposed to be you and me against the world, but I’m not fucking seeing it right now. 

By this point Jessie was crying and snotting pretty hard, absorbed enough in her own agonies that she didn’t realize she wasn’t alone in the bathroom until someone rapped lightly on the door of her stall and almost scared her shitless.

“Hey. You okay in there?”

It was not the voice of someone particularly warm and fuzzy or confident about checking in on a stranger, which actually made it a little sweeter that they’d bothered.

“I’m fine,” Jessie lied, wetly. “I’m just, like, I’m on the phone.”

“Yeah, I can hear that.” Whoever they were, they were sorely tempted to leave it at that and go back to minding their own business. Jessie could tell. Outside the stall, a pair of tennis shoes that had been worn damn near to dust rocked back and forth, weighing the options. “I just wanted to say that they’re not worth it. Whoever’s making you feel this bad, you shouldn't waste your time on them.”

“Okay,” Jessie said. And then, into the message she was still leaving for her brother: “I have to go, a nice girl in this bathroom says you’re not worth it. Please call me, love you, bye.”

“Great,” the stranger said dryly. “Crushed it.” Their beaten-in shoes scuffed away, back over to the sinks. Had Jessie missed an entire other person pissing next to her? God, that was embarrassing.

She wadded up some genuinely horrific single ply toilet paper and dabbed at her face, hoping she didn’t look too atrocious. All of her makeup was waterproof, which had to count for something. “Hey, thank you for that. I really needed someone to snap me out of it. I was being so pathetic.”

“Whatever,” said the voice by the sinks. “Don’t beat yourself up. I’ve been there, I get it.”

Jessie’s heart was getting squeezed around like one of those awful tubes full of goo and glitter and little plastic animals, the kind that everyone used to make jerk off motions. Who was this? Would they still be so nice to her if they knew who she was? What were the odds she could salvage a single actual friend out of this wretched garbage fire of a day? It didn’t even have to be a lifelong bestie, just someone she could have a few drinks with. 

“My name is Jessie,” she said hesitantly.

She heard her new friend sigh. “I’m Tash.”

“Do you come here often? I’m not asking that in the pervert way, I’m just curious if you’re, like, a regular.”

“I work here,” Tash said, with as much contempt as anyone had ever had for their workplace.

“Oh. Do you like it?”

“Sucks shit. But, you know. You do what you’ve got to do.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Are you okay in there? I’m gonna get my ass reamed if I let somebody drown in the toilet.”

“No, I’m okay. I’m just, you know.” Which was a fucking nothing explanation, but Jessie’s voice was still damp and wavering enough that it presumably got the point across. “I need a moment to get it together.”

“I hear that,” Tash said. “I usually use the walk-in when I need a second.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s not very big, but it’s quiet. And the cold kind of helps pull me together, I guess. Stay focused.” She cleared her throat again. “Sorry to dump that on you.”

“No, that’s okay. It makes sense,” said Jessie, noted cold enjoyer. “Do you keep anything fun in there? Maud’s never let me see it.”

“You know Maud?”

“Yeah, since I was a kid. Isn’t she the best?”

“She’s a real son of a bitch. But she's the only boss I’ve ever believed when she says she gives a shit about me, though.”

“Sounds like Maudie,” Jessie agreed fondly. “Anyway, what’s in the walk-in?”

“Fucking nothing exciting. Burger patties, mostly. I don’t know. Like I said, not a lot of room.”

“Plenty of room for you.”

“Yeah, every time I have a total breakdown at work.”

“Does that happen a lot? No judgment, obviously. Pot .”

“I don’t know.” Tash sighed. “More often than you’d hope. Which is never, obviously. We don’t have to talk about this.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“What?”

“Your favorite color,” Jessie insisted. “I love asking people that. Nobody ever cares after you turn, like, twelve, right? But I care. And it’s a lot more chill than talking about, you know. Our favorite places to completely freak out in a shithole bar.”

“Okay. Sure,” Tash said. Everything about the strain in her voice suggested she was not naturally inclined towards whimsy, but at least she was making the effort to play along. “Will you assume I have clinical depression if I say gray?”

“Yes.”

“Well, joke’s on me, because I love gray and I do have clinical depression. But purple is also good. I like purple.”

“What shade? Eggplant? Periwinkle?”

“Just a nice, medium purple, I guess. Like, the platonic ideal of purple.”

Jessie had no idea what a platonic ideal was or why anyone would ever need to specify that they weren't trying to have sex with a color, but she was sitting on her stupid little toilet nodding like an idiot anyway because it felt so good to be making a connection with someone. “I dig that. Purple is good.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, cerulean for sure. With sparkles, ideally.”

“That’s blue, right?”

“Yeah. My jacket is actually, like, that exact color, I can show you.” Jessie sniffled tremendously, getting shakily to her feet and pleased to discover that she was feeling much more sober than when she’d wandered into the bathroom some time ago. And now look at her! Practically having a whole meet cute. What a turn around on the evening. “Okay, I’m coming out now. Don’t gag if my makeup’s a mess, I’m going to fix it.”

She tossed her hair and stepped out of the stall, at which point several things happened to her in rapid succession.

Tash was standing underneath one of the humming, flickering lights that barely managed to illuminate the dark cave of the ladies’ room. She struck a slim figure, drowning in a huge hoodie with two skinny black-clad legs sticking out like a cartoon character. She was wiping down the sinks but turned as Jessie emerged, the fuzzy light illuminating her from the back like a bargain bin halo.

The first thing Jessie noticed was that Tash was a lot shorter than she had been expecting.

The second was that Tash had beautiful eyes. 

The third was that those beautiful eyes and indeed her entire face were curdling up in horror as recognition set in.

“What the fuck,” she said. “Frostbite?”

The recognition and reaction alone weren’t surprising, given the colossal combined levels of notoriety and bad PR Jessie was currently enjoying. The part that nearly knocked her on her ass was that recognized Tash back.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, overjoyed and utterly failing to read the room. “Night Noir? Holy shit, girlie, I thought you were dead!”