#Public Adjuster in Round Rock

[honeykaes]

three rounds

boxer!wriothesley x reader II 3.0k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, boxer! au, modern au, blood, fighting (boxing), rough sex, wriothesley picks reader up, standing full nelson, semi-public sex, creamipes, fingering, overstimulation, dacryphilia, dumbification, childhood friends to lover, secret dating, mention of the criminal justice system, implied family abandonment, unedited

synopsis: you and wriothesley had been best friends for ages. you were there when he broke ties with his rich family, when he failed the police academy and now in his success in the boxing ring. this will be the match to decide if he earns the belt and he wants his cheerleader, whom he's secretly dating, to be there in the front seat to witness it.

The glare from the bright white spotlights made you squint and lift your hand up. Black spots littered your vision as you adjusted and stared down at the ring in front of you. Crowds surrounded the entire ring, cheering and yelping in delight excited for the match getting ready to begin.

This was the final match to determine who received the golden belt any professional boxer in England clawed their way to attain. To get it, they would have to rip it out of the claws of the previous boxing champion, Attainer. This would be no easy feat, but you knew that would not stop him from achieving his goal.

“Now we have the underdog, quite literally! Can we get some noise for the newbie with attitude Wriothesley!” the announcer yelled out from the speakers. As soon as he was introduced, the crowd’s noise grew louder, admiring the man coming out. His short black hair was as scruffy as ever, adorned with streaks of gray he insisted wasn’t from age. His eyes, piercing icy blue, looked to the crowd in determination as he lifted his arm up waving to them and a lopsided smirk.

He was extremely muscular wearing his scars littering throughout his chest, neck, and face with pride. As he slung under the ropes of the rings, he gazed at the crowd once more as they cheered—eyes scanning for someone until they settled on their own. His eyes softened and his smirk grew, winking over to you as your heart fluttered.

“Oh my god! He actually noticed me! This is the best day ever!” a girl cheered behind you. You chuckled to yourself fighting the urge to turn around and spoil her fun. No one in the ring would know that look was for you, and you alone.  

You and Wriothesley have been together for a few years now. You were there when he was at rock bottom and you would be there when he finally took the heavens or himself.

“Round one! Fight!”

You knocked on the shabby door, hearing banging from the other side as your heart pumped in your chest in anxiety. Wriothesley had been avoiding your calls all day since he got out of prison and was under probation. 

“Wriothesley! Open the door!” you yelled out. No response came except for the constant sound of smacking. Your hand grabbed on the handle turning it only for the door to crack open. A yelp escaped your lips watching a cockroach scutter across the floor into the hallway from the hallway. Cursing silently to yourself and surprised Wriothesley still didn’t say anything, you closed the door looking over to see the barren studio apartment.

There was hardly anything in the tiny space beside a mattress that was directly on the floor with some blankets thrown across it, a large bean bag chair to the side, and a large punching bag swinging in the middle of the room. The sound of smacking echoed out once more as Wriothesley continued to punch it, still not facing you.

Earbuds were placed in his ears, your sounds must've been drowned out by how loud he was playing his music. You slowly approached him, calling out his name once more as he continued to ignore you. With a sigh, you placed your hand on his back. He immediately tensed up and he turned around. 

He scowled over to you, frowning prominent on his lips. Bags were under his eye, a fresh cut seemed to linger there too. He must’ve got it before getting out of prison. Your eyes softened in pity and Wriothesley took his earbuds out and sighed.

“Are you okay? You’ve been ignoring me for days since you got out,” you murmured. Wriothesley grumbled under his breath and sighed, wiping the sweat clinging to his brow. He must’ve been exercising for a while now.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to always check on me like you did when we were kids. I’m not the little rich kid trying to understand public school anymore…” Wriothesley muttered. You clinged your tongue, rolling your eyes at his response.

“Yeah, you’re not, which is why I don’t know why you are acting like a kid and avoiding me. We're friends. You got arrested and kicked out of the police academy, of course I want to check in with you and make sure you’re okay. Shit sucks, understatement of the year, but I want to help you through this,” you replied. He doesn’t respond and looks away, eyes narrowing in shame. Your eyes flickered down to his ankle bracelet, blinking. It will be six months before it’ll come off and he'll be free from it.

“Please can you just…” you sighed, “You don’t need to carry all of this by yourself. I’m not going to abandon you no matter how many times you try to push me out. We are in this together. I promised that to you before and I mean it now.”

Wriothesley remained quiet walking over to his mattress before collapsing on him, the springs creaking loudly as they adjusted to the new weight. 

“Frankly, I’m not sure why you seem so adamant about staying beside me. Why? Do you got a crush on me or something,” Wriothesley murmured, covering his eyes with his hand. There was a pause as you struggled to say anything and simply looked away. Noticing you not saying anything, Wriothesley uncovered his face looking over at you in shock before it softened. A chuckle soon rattled throughout the tiny studio apartment.

“Ah, I guess that explains it then, huh?” he murmured, looking over to his hand covered in sports tape. He flexed his fingers, pondering the words he wanted to say to you as butterflies flew throughout your stomach. Was he going to send you out? Was he going to pretend you didn't say anything?

“...I don’t regret going to jail for what I did. I know what I did wasn’t wrong but naturally bastards with more money than me can get away with it and paint me as the villain to absolve them from their crimes,” he murmured getting up in front of you.

“I’m not going to let that stop me though,” he murmured. The pitter-patter of the rain outside hit the window as Wriothesley chuckled once more.

“London is like this, gloomy, gray with pricks who take advantage of the disadvantaged. This city eats up anyone they can. I don’t plan on being part of the menu. Something good will come out of all this shit…” he murmured. His fingers lifted your chin and a soft smile curled on his once serious expression.

“Besides, I think things are shaping up positively in some ways already. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Once his probation period ended, Wriothesley went to the gym often to clear his mind when he wasn’t working at his part-time contracting job. He wanted to join an amateur boxing ring, only for his skills to gain the attention of recruiters looking for more talent in the professional ring.

Signing on to a team and management, Wriothesley quickly flew through opponents. The crowd had deemed him as “Cerberus” for his scruffy yet handsome appearance along with his famous three-punch combo. 

It had been three years since you two started this journey and this match would show if it was worth it. 

“Ooh! The Attainer got a left hook to connect the frazzling crowd favorite! Can the doggie get out of this or will the beat finally get tamed!”

You snapped out of your thoughts, clenching your jaw seeing Wriothesley stagger from that hit. Blood began to dribble from his lip. A flash of anger shot through his eyes as he glowered at Attainer with frustration. As Attainer went for another blow, Wriothesley swiftly dodged to the left. Time for the final round was ticking down quickly, he’d need to make this count if he wanted to win.

Dodging another attack and seeing an opening, Wriothesley quickly rushed his gloved fist forward connecting it to the champion, Attainer. 

“One,” he muttered, drowned out by the deafening noise and muffled from his mouthguard. Seeing the opening swift to try to adjust, Wriothesley refused to let him, connecting another punch in the stomach to his opponent. Attainer gasped, the wind knocked out of him from the blow. 

“Two,” he grunted, dodging another desperate blow from Attainer. With one more opening he saw, Wriothesley went in again connecting his final blow to Attainer’s face.

“Three!” he grunted. Attainer staggered, body fumbling to the ground as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The referee sprung from outside the ring, smacking his hand down to the side of the opponent, counting those three numbers. Wriothesley stood to the side, chest gleaming in the stage light from his sweat as the crowd cheered in bewilderment and excitement. 

“TKO!!”

Roars of cheers echoed throughout the stadium. You couldn’t stop grinning, joining in the celebration as Wriothseley lifted his arm up signaling his victory against the champion. Flashes of light flickered off as press and camera from fans, sports journalists, and anyone wanting to gobble every opportunity and second, they could to get this shot. His eyes wandered to yours, smiling wide as you gave a small wave back.

As a camera quickly came into the ring, a microphone shoved in his face to conduct the first interview of the new champion, you slowly got up from your seat and the chaotic cheers of the stadium and headed to his private quarters in the locker room to wait for him. 

Thirty minutes went by before the door flew open and slammed shut as he entered. As soon as his eyes met yours, he walked up to you, arms wrapping you in a tight hug. You chuckled, wrapping your arms around Wriothesley’s torso, smelling the sweat wafting from him.

“I told you doll,” Wriothesley smirked, as you chuckled once more.

“You did!” you chimed with a wide smile. Wriothesley leaned in close, lips millimeters away from one another.

“And you know what I want more than anything,” he whispered, capturing your lips. His hands settled against your ass, squeezing the soft globes as you gasped, placing your hands on his. He massaged it, tapping it as he finally let your kiss go—a translucent string of saliva connecting your now glossy lips with his.

“W-What?! What if someone sees us? You built your reputation back up just to risk destroying it with a stupid scandal. ‘New champion has a partner caught fucking in the stadium!’ The press will eat us alive,” you stammered out. Wriothesley chuckled lowly, nibbling your earlobe.

“If they give me shit, who cares? It’s my managers who thought it best to keep our relationship a secret. I should get to celebrate how I see fit. They get their win and I get you, everyone’s happy,” Wriothesley whispered, grinding his hardening cock against your leg. You sighed at his response.

“What am I going to do with you,” you muttered. You gasped as Wriothesley smacked his palm down on your ass —the sting of dull pain shooting through your body.

“Fuck me, that’s what.”

Wriothesley brought his lips down to yours once more, the adrenaline from the match still coursing through his veins. He takes his shorts off, heavy cock popping up and rolling against his chiseled abdomen. It lulled to the side against his black happy trail, flushed tip already budding with precum as veins pulsated throughout the thick flesh.

You lowered yourself on your knees, grabbing onto his length as he sucked a sharp breath in. You smeared the precum, finger playing with his sensitive tip. You pumped a few times before opening your mouth and taking him into your mouth. The familiar salty taste of sweat and precum hit your tongue as you bobbed your head.

“Aww, giving me a little reward? You shouldn’t have,” he teased, grabbing a fistful of your hair. Your tongue swirling along the tip, sucking hard as Wriothesley’s body shuttered and hips slightly faltered. His nails dug into his thick thighs, trying to contain himself as you continued to suck and swirl against him.

“That’s it. Open up a little wider for me lovely,” he murmured, using his other hand to tap at your throat. He used the grip he had on your hair to sink you further down his cock. You fought the urge to gag, but he had trained your throat to fight against the feeling. You soon completely had his entire length down your throat, nose brushing against the thick hair of his bush.

He pulled them away, as an audible pop echoed throughout the small room while you caught your breath. Drool leaked from the side of your mouth, eyes watching as Wriosthelsey continued to jerk at his cock. It twitched in his grasp.

“Open your mouth for me like the good doll you are,” he murmured. You obeyed, opening your mouth wide as a low groan ripped from his lips, tip hovering over it. Globs of cum shot from him, falling on your tongue as you resisted the urge to spit or swallow. His hips shuttered, bucking a few times before he finally began to soften and leaned over wiping some that managed to spill out on the corner of your lips.

“Swallow for me…” he cooed. His smirk widened watching your throat bobbed as you did, trying not to shiver from the taste. 

“So good for me. Get up. I think it’s time for the spotlight to be shared,” he murmured as you got on your feet. His hands gripped your bottoms pulling them down and onto the ground, before your underwear went with it. He haggardly popped a few buttons off from your blouse, showing off a bit of your chest to him. You could feel him beginning to grow against your thigh. 

“Wriothesley!” you yelled out, as he lifted you up. His hardening cock slides against your drooling slit, gathering up the slick clinging onto your cunt. He does this growing harder before he’s finally fully erected once more. Wriothesley hooked his forearm against the back of your knees and leaned against the wall before he sank into the warmth of your cunt—roughly plunging inside of you.

You moan in surprise at the position, your body bouncing from his quick thrusts. Objects hung on the wall bang to his pace as the sound of smacking skin reverberated throughout the locker room. 

He finally put one of your legs down, in the process reaching deeper inside of you as your body jolted in pleasure. With his now free hand, he moved his palm striking your needy clit—the shock of the pain and pleasure caused your walls to flutter down on his cock, as he groaned in delight.

“You like that, I felt just how tight you gripped me just now,” he cooed, nibbling against your neck. His fingers continued to toy with your clit, rubbing tight circles and occasionally smacking his fingers down on it. Your body shivered at the simulation he was giving you, cock brushing against the spot that made you see stars.

“Fuck! Wriothesley. There, there! There!” you babbled out, tears beginning to prick your eyes.

He shifted his position and grip on you, turning you around so your back was to the wall and keeping you up with one hand gripping tightly against your ass. Your legs had instinctively wrapped around his waist, allowing him to rut against that spot with more precision. His eyes lingered on your chest, admiring the flash of your pebbled nibble that would greet him with every bounce of your body.

His hand grasped your jaw, his blunt nails digging to the sides of it,

“Gonna cum for me? Yeah?” he murmured, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip as you rapidly nodded, tears beginning to cascade down your face. He grunted, feeling your walls cave in making it harder to continue to buck inside of you.

“Show me how good a champion’s cock is then,” he grunted. With more nodding and babbling of his name, your eyes rolled to the back of your head—body arching as you finally reached your high, shivering in pleasure.

Wriothesley pistoning his hips sloppier, let out a low moan of your name before shutting his eyes and connecting his lips with your own. His hips faltered, ropes of cum spilling inside of you and filled you to the brim with his essence.

Lifting his head up, he chuckled noticing your fucked-out and tired expression moving your body in his arms before placing you down on the couch. He admired your chest slowly rising from your chest, eye makeup messed up and smeared from your tears.

“Sorry, was that too much for you,” he murmured with a smile, leaning down to kiss your forehead. He went over and put his shorts on, tucking his softening cock beneath it. You groaned, lolling your head to the side as Wriothesly approached you again. His cum was beginning to leak down your thighs. He couldn’t stop himself from pumping two fingers into your overly sensitive cunt, pushing his cum back inside of you as you whimpered at the sensation.

“Don’t worry. Just rest here and we can leave afterward for dinner, if you’re still up for it that is,” Wriothesley murmured. A knock on the door caught his attention as he got up and walked over to the door, cracking it so your form was completely hidden by his stature. He scowled, only for his gaze to turn to shock seeing Clorinde, his manager glare at him. She let out a side, crossing her arms.

“Next time you plan on fucking your partner, please do it when I don’t need something in the locker room, that is not ours I’d like to add, and have to wait elsewhere until you’re done to do so. The papers are on the table, I expect to see them on Friday when you show up for our press briefing,” she grumbled before walking away.

Wriothesley chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“My bad, Clorinde…”

[joesbnbg]

cruel summer

part one of everybody wants to rule the world

in which the girls get ice cream, robin has a meet-cute, steve throws a pool party, and everybody gets high [4.4k words]

The summer of ‘85 in Hawkins, Indiana was a scorching one. Tarmac sizzled under the butter yellow sun, cotton candy clouds spun on the saccharine sweet taste of summer freedom. Perfect for soaking sunburnt bodies with chlorinated water at the Hawkins public pool; perfect for long bike rides against the wind, speed and sun burning the rubber of the thin tires; the perfect weather for ice cream. 

Which was right where April and DJ were headed, AC blasting in April's beat up ‘74 Chevy Vega, sun reflecting off its faded orange hood as the two teenagers drove towards the Starcourt Mall. Blondie blasted from the speakers and April sang along lazily as DJ chattered over Debbie Harry with unprecedented speed about everything and nothing at all, fumbling with the fringes of her cut off shorts. 

April's fingers drummed against the steering wheel as she turned into the crowded parking lot, eyes scanning for a place to park as DJ craned her neck towards the entrance, watching couples and teenagers and families alike clamber inside the mall like sweaty zombies who sought cold air instead of brains. 

April pulled into the closest spot she could find, which of course wasn’t close at all, and quickly turned the car off, as ready to escape the summer heat as the rest of her town. She pushed her sunglasses back onto the crown of her head, black frames against copper hair, watching as DJ snaked out of the car window, falling to the ground with an ungraceful thump. April's passenger side door hadn’t worked since she had bought the car over a year ago, but DJ still hadn't gotten the hang of an elegant landing. 

“Let’s go,” April said with an impatient smile, head tilted towards the mall. DJ grumbled, wiping bits of rocks from the indents they had created on her palms as she scrambled to her feet, the old canvas of her black converse tearing slightly at her movement. 

“I thought when you got a car it would come with less injuries,” DJ said, catching up to her best friend as they began towards the building, beat-up shoes moving in tandem against the blacktop. “I’m fighting for my life out here.” April huffed out a laugh, adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder. 

“If you were behind the wheel, we’d be fighting for our lives every five minutes. I much prefer these odds.” April responded, pushing through the glass double doors and into Starcourt, a well welcomed whoosh of cool air greeting her. DJ sputtered as she removed the wind blown hair from her face, tucking dark strands behind her ears.

“What, because I went airborne? That was one time.” DJ said as they rounded a corner, making April laugh again. 

“Two times.” 

“One and a half. Only the front two wheels came off the ground the first time.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Dot, but a car’s wheels aren’t supposed to come off the ground ever. Front or back.”

“They won’t be saying that when cars can fly.”

“Emphasis on ‘can.’ My car is not built for that. No car is built for that. Honestly, I’m starting to think you might have a better shot getting your pilot license.” April said as they walked into Scoops Ahoy, Hawkins’ newest and nicest nautical themed creamery. DJ whistled at the boy behind the counter whose face perked up slightly at the sight of the girls. How this schmuck in an ill-fitting sailor’s suit had managed to win over her best friend was still a mystery to her, but she tabled the thought for later as they approached the counter. 

“Too expensive. Yo, Harrington! How do we feel about another driving lesson?” She called at him, a grin tugging her pink lips upward. Steve shook his head vigorously as he moved towards the tubs of ice cream, head bent as he scooped USS Butterscotch onto a wafer cone. 

“Absolutely not,” He said, and although amusement colored his tone, it was clear he was being completely serious. He stood upright, passing the cone to April, who took it with a bright smile, one he shared as their brown eyes met. 

“Well, take it up with your girlfriend, because apparently, she’d rather sacrifice my palms than get her wizard cousin to fix the car.” DJ said, holding up her scratched up hand as April rolled her eyes.

“Okay, first off, he’s not a wizard, he’s a thirteen year old who happens to know a lot about science, and secondly, he’s not a fucking mechanic. He’s just a kid.” She shot back. DJ shrugged, taking a cone of cookies and cream from Steve’s outstretched hand. 

“Close enough,” She said as she licked a dribbler off the side of the cone. “But I’m pretty sure I saw him blow up Older Sinclair’s blender, so really, what’s the difference?” DJ asked, dropping a loose quarter from her pocket into the tip jar, which made Steve involuntarily grimace. 

“He’s also not even here,” April reminded her. “He’s at that science thing for another three weeks.” 

“Camp Know-Nothing or whatever,” Steve added.

“Camp Know-Where,” April corrected. 

“You want a bandaid for that battle scar?” Steve asked, eyebrows raised and eyes focused as DJ inspected the broken skin on her hand. DJ shrugged like it was nothing, because things like this were always happening to her. Steve turned, opening the partition to the back room, calling towards the coworker neither April or DJ realized he had. “Robin, can you get the first aid kit?” 

“What, did you sprain your wrist slinging ice cream, Stevie?” The voice called back, and Steve rolled his eyes, gritting his teeth with annoyance as he turned back towards his friends. April trained her eyes on the floor and sunk her teeth into her bottom lip to keep from laughing, but DJ couldn’t help the snicker that escaped her. 

“Yeah, Stevie, hurt your little baby wrist?” DJ said, pouting at him. Steve’s eyes narrowed as he turned towards the back again. 

“It was for my friend actually, but forget it, because she’s being an absolute dick right now.” He said, and this time April couldn’t stop herself from laughing into her ice cream. “Let her bleed.” 

“Are you allowed to curse in uniform? Isn’t that, like, against the company image or whatever?” DJ asked, clearly getting more joy out of teasing the boy than the quickly melting treat in her hand. 

“Company image? What is this, Disneyland?” Steve retorted. 

“What? King Steve wasn’t an animated Disney classic? Since when?” DJ replied, eyes widening. She laughed, loudly this time, but all confidence and joy seemed to drain from her face as Steve’s coworker stepped out from the back room, first aid kit in hand. 

“Who needs the first aid kit?” The girl asked. “Had to look through, like, seven different cabinets to find it. I’m also pretty sure the instructions on this thing are in Russian.” She frowned, head bent as she examined it with bright blue eyes. DJ gulped, trying to steady herself, and April and Steve shared a knowing, amused look. 

“Robin, this is April, my girlfriend, and DJ, April's leech. April, DJ, this is Robin.” Steve said, and Robin looked up at them for the first time, eyes training on DJ’s just as DJ’s had trained on Robin’s. Pink rose to her freckled cheeks and she quickly looked down again, focusing on opening the first aid kit again. 

“Hand,” DJ blurted, pointing it out towards Robin, who looked at it like DJ had just shoved a knife in her direction. 

“She hurt her hand,” April quickly supplied. “Climbing out of my car, because the door doesn’t work.” 

“Oh,” Robin said, clearly nervous herself as she awkwardly opened the kit. She pulled out a bandaid and when she grabbed DJ’s hand to inspect it closer, DJ held her breath. Delicately, Robin placed the bandaid over the spot, patting the brunette’s hand lightly as she let it go. The air was thick with the smell of vanilla and tension, and Robin cleared her throat, stepping into the back room again. 

“...Huh,” Steve said after a moment, head tilted in thought. “I mean, she’s usually awkward, but she’s not that awkward.” 

“I wasn’t-” 

“I didn’t mean you, shit-for-brains.” Steve said, eyes on DJ, whose eyebrows knit in frustration. 

“I should slap that stupid hat right off your head.” DJ replied. 

“You’d be doing me a favor.” Steve said, and April chuckled. 

"How long has she been working here for?" April asked. "I've never seen her around." Steve shrugged.

"Dunno. She just sort of showed up and started insulting me."

"I like her already." DJ said, and Steve rolled his eyes.

"Clearly." He muttered.

“So, Stevie-” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Stevie, you know it’s really hot out today.” 

“Mhm.” 

“And you know what people like to do when it’s hot out?” Steve stared at DJ, unamused.

“Go inside and leave other people alone?” 

“Go swimming,” April supplied, and Steve turned towards her, raising an eyebrow before wagging a finger between the girls. 

“You planned this, didn’t you?” He asked, before turning his attention back to DJ. “Don’t you have a pool?” 

“Yeah, but you have something I don’t: absentee parents.” DJ said with a grin, and Steve glared at her, playing with his ice cream scooper. 

“Gee. Thanks. Rub it in my face, why don’t you?” 

“I’m just saying,” DJ continued, leaning on the counter to get closer to him, “We could have a super-fun-no-parents-pool-party to kick off the summer? I’ll get the drinks!” 

“You look younger than Henderson.” Steve shot back, and DJ grinned brightly at him. 

“Okay, then you get the drinks.” DJ amended, and Steve smiled with disbelief, shaking his head slightly. 

“Is that a yes?” April asked, looking at the boy hopefully. Steve rolled his eyes before finally nodding his head in agreement. 

“Fine,” He said. “Fine. Seven o’clock.” DJ broke out into a sly grin. 

“You’re the best, Harrington.” She said, and Steve rolled his eyes again, waving his hand. 

“Whatever.” He said as April dug into her purse for her car keys, extending them out towards her friend. 

“DJ, why don’t you go ahead and get the car started? I’ll be out right behind you.” 

“I don’t think the good patrons of Scoops Ahoy will appreciate the make-out session in the middle of their nautical ice cream experience,” DJ said as she took the keys, twisting them around her finger. 

“Shut up!” April said as Steve ducked his head down, blushing. 

“Wear protection!” DJ called as she headed towards the exit. “I am too young to be an aunt.” April laughed, turning back towards Steve, who gave her a smile. 

“So…” April started, leaning closer to him, “I was thinking…” 

“Oh yeah?” Steve said, grin growing with the girl’s words. 

“We should invite Robin to the pool party tonight.” Steve’s smile faded as he crossed his arms, looking at the girl in front of him. 

“Seriously?” He said, blinking. “Why?” 

“Because!” April responded, lowering her voice slightly. “She and DJ were really hitting it off back there.” 

“That was hitting it off? I’ve seen babies communicate more gracefully than that.” Steve argued, but April pressed forward. 

“There’s something there. Invite her, please.” 

“How do you even know she’s a lesbian?” Steve whispered, and April's eyes darted towards the back room, making sure Robin wasn’t listening. 

“I don’t,” April said, “But I have a feeling if we invite her, it’ll be a good thing. Come on, please?” Steve was silent, thoughtful as he weighed his options. “You know,” April said, closing the space between her and the boy even more, “If DJ has a friend, or somebody, she won’t be as interested in what we’re doing.” Steve stared at her blankly. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say to you, Steve?” 

April watched as the idea registered in his brain, eyes filling with recognition and mouth opening slightly. “Oh,” He said slowly, starting to break out into a thoughtful grin. “Okay. Okay.” 

“See?” April said, smiling, too. “Invite her.” Steve groaned, looking towards the back room, nose scrunching with disgust at the girl who sat inside of it. “Come on,” April pushed back Steve’s cowlick, moving the chocolate colored hair out of his face. “Please.” 

Steve huffed. “Fine.” He said. “Fine. God, I just do whatever you two tell me to, don’t I?” 

“Yeah,” April agreed. “You must be real fucking whipped, Harrington.” Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Get the fuck out of here. I’ll see you at seven.”

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When seven o’clock rolled around that evening, April and DJ found themselves once again inside April's car, bikinis on under cut off shorts and big graphic tees. The sun was dipping below the trees, filtering through the leaves and houses as they drove through Hawkins, the cool breeze that accompanied the late hour playing with the ends of their hair. 

“I wonder what else we could get Steve to do because he’s in love with you.” DJ said, watching the clouds pass by as they drove, hand draping lazily out the window.

“He’s not in love with me.” April said quickly, and DJ quirked up an eyebrow. 

“What do you mean? He’s definitely in love with you.” DJ said. “I mean, come on, who else would put up with me just to date you? Not many people.” 

“Found that out the hard way.” April added. “But can we not… we’re just taking it slow for now, okay?” 

“O…kay,” DJ said finally, a little lost. “I wonder what we could get him to do because he likes you so much,” She amended. “Do you think he’d kill someone, or is that, like, a six month anniversary present kind of deal?” 

“Jury’s still out on that one,” April replied after a moment. 

“No, the jury definitely thinks he’s innocent. They’d think a man who uses that much hairspray probably wouldn’t have any brain cells left to murder ‘cause the aerosol in the can would have killed them all.” 

“Okay, he doesn’t use that much hairspray,” April argued, although she barely even believed herself. 

“Have you ever seen him without hairspray before, or are you guys not that serious yet? Does that also come with the six month anniversary murder?” DJ kept going. “Like, maybe he murders someone because they’ve seen him without hairspray, or maybe they discontinue it so he murders whoever makes - or, I guess doesn’t make - the hairspray, or-” 

“Okay, we get it.” April said as they turned onto Steve’s block, pulling into the empty spot in front of his house, right beside a tree with a branch convenient enough for DJ to use to haul herself out of the car. 

She managed the escape a little better this time, huffing as April retrieved her things from the back of the car. DJ frowned at the sight of an unfamiliar bike resting in the driveway as they got closer, nudging April to make sure she saw it, too. 

“Is that Steve’s?” DJ asked, and April stared at it, doing her best to pretend she didn’t know who it belonged to. 

“Hmm, I don’t know.” She said. “Maybe it’s one of the kids.” 

“He’d invite the kids to a pool party where there’d be alcohol?” DJ said incredulously. “Mr. Mother-of-the-Year? I don’t think so.” 

“Well, who knows?” April asked as she knocked on the large wooden door. “They like to just randomly appear in places. Could be one of them.” It was a few more seconds until the door swung open, and Steve stood behind it, looking far more comfortable in clothes that fit his body correctly. 

“Retired from the navy so soon?” DJ teased. “I thought they were about to promote you.” 

“Shut up,” Steve replied before kissing April in greeting as the girls walked inside. 

“Where’s mine?” DJ asked, puckering her lips at him. He made a face at her as they walked through the house. Music played softly on a speaker outside as Steve made a pit stop in the kitchen, passing cold beer cans to the girls before sliding the glass door to the backyard open. 

“Hey, guys!” DJ almost dropped her drink at the sight of the sandy haired girl in front of her, laying out in a navy blue two piece, nursing a beer. 

“You guys remember Robin,” Steve said, gesturing at her as if it wasn’t April's idea to invite her in the first place. 

“Yeah!” April said brightly, hoping her excited attitude would draw away from the fear growing in her best friend’s eyes. “It’s good to see you. Isn’t it, DJ?” She turned towards her friend expectantly, whose green eyes only grew wider. 

“I-it’s great! Or, or cool! Or, it’s very normal. Awesome. Fun…tastic to see you.” DJ sputtered on her words, drawing a quiet laugh out of Steve. Robin didn’t seem phased as she took another sip of her beer. 

“You know, I think we had English together sophomore year,” She said, eyes focusing on April, who smiled with recognition. 

“Yeah! I think you’re right. God, Mr. Shipman was an absolute trip.” April replied, twisting her hair up into a bun. 

“I took English!” DJ offered, and Steve moved towards her, patting her on the shoulder. 

“Take a lap, champ.” He said, and DJ nodded, still flustered as she moved to dip her toes in the deep end of the pool. “That went so badly I hope she doesn’t drown herself.” Steve muttered softly against April's ear, causing her to stifle a laugh. 

“So how long have you two been going out?” Robin asked. DJ was still on the other side of the pool making splashing sounds with her feet that were loud enough to cause a scene. Steve and April looked at each other.

“Like… five months at this point?” Steve asked, and April shrugged in agreement. Robin looked between them with a smile.

“How exactly did you pull her, Harrington? She seems a little too cerebral for you.” Robin tilted her head, smile taking form into a shit-eating grin as April giggled and Steve’s face dropped. 

“That’s what I’m saying!” DJ shouted from the other side of the pool. 

“Well, considering the fact that I don’t even know what ‘cerebral’ means, yeah, you’re probably right.” Steve said coolly. “We met through her cousin-” 

“Her cousin who is a child.” DJ added in a yell, cutting Steve off. 

“Who I, y’know, look out for sometimes-” 

“He’s a glorified babysitter who doesn’t get paid.” DJ continued, and Steve turned towards her, placing his hands on his hips. 

“Shut the fuck up, Dorothy.” Steve shouted as DJ padded her way back over to them, wet feet slapping on the concrete. 

“Make me, Harrington!” DJ gestured towards him and he moved ever-so-slightly before April put a hand on his arm, redirecting the conversation back to where it had started. 

“I tutored him.” April said. “And to be honest, I thought he was a major douche. But he actually turned out to be a big softie.” 

“Is that why he can’t get it-” Before DJ could finish, Steve turned towards her and pushed her in the pool, causing all three of the girls to yelp as DJ landed smack in the middle of the water. 

“Jesus, Steve!” April exclaimed, though she was laughing. Robin was laughing, too, and Steve cracked a smile, guzzling the last of his beer. 

“Took care of that problem, huh?” Steve said as DJ spluttered, spitting chlorinated water out of her mouth and pushing her sopping wet hair out of her eyes.

“Not fair!” DJ exclaimed, although she was smiling, too. Before she knew what was happening, a whiz of a blue bathing suit was making its way into the pool with a whoop, landing beside her. Once she had popped back up out of the water, Robin smiled at DJ, eyes reflecting the color of the pool. 

“Couldn’t leave you alone in here, could I?” Robin said, and DJ did her best to keep her body from short-circuiting. Still on land, April eyed Steve nervously, body tense as she waited for him to push her in, too. Steve stared at her, his hands on his hips. 

“I’ll at least give you the dignity of taking your clothes off first.” He said, eyes drifting towards DJ, whose large shirt was fanning around her like an underwater overcoat. 

“Gee, what a gentleman.” April grinned, stripping off her denim shorts and t-shirt to reveal an emerald green bikini underneath. Steve waited with amusement as April tossed them to the side, then scooped her up bridal style and tossed her into the pool before chucking off his own shirt and cannon-balling after her. 

DJ swam towards the shallow end to peel off her now soaking denim shorts and t-shirt, tossing them with a loud plop onto the side of the pool. She felt a lot lighter in just her maroon bikini. 

Once the group was officially cooled off and fully chlorinated, they removed their soaking bodies to lay out by the side of the pool, each nursing cold beers, condensation dripping onto the already wet concrete. 

“So,” Robin said, a grin plastered on her face as she reached her free hand towards her bag, “I brought something that might make today a little more interesting.” Steve raised an eyebrow, his interest piquing. Robin whipped a baggie out of her purse, holding it up for the friends to see, and April laughed. 

“Magic oregano,” DJ said, making April laugh harder as Steve stood up, grabbing the bag from Robin’s outstretched fingers. 

“Brownie points for Buckley.” Steve moved towards the nearby table to begin rolling the joint. 

“I didn’t know you smoked, Robin,” April said, prompting the girl to shrug. Steve scoffed.

“Are you kidding? Look at her. Her nails are painted black and she’s in band.” Robin made a face as both April and DJ laughed. 

“Okay, okay, fair,” April conceded. 

“I wouldn’t think you guys smoked,” Robin said. “DJ, maybe. Steve, sure. Definitely not you, April.” 

April shrugged. “I like to have fun.” 

“She likes to have a break from talking all the time.” Steve translated, licking the rolling paper. April grinned. 

“What does that mean?” Robin asked. 

“I go really quiet when I get high.” April explained, and DJ nodded enthusiastically. 

“Nonverbal, almost.” DJ added. “It’s really kind of funny.” 

“Wish you’d go nonverbal,” Steve muttered, and DJ’s head whipped towards him. 

“Do I have to remind you you’ve never won a fight, Harrington? Want to make that record zero to three?” DJ said, and Steve gave the girl a wary look, going the long way to avoid her as he moved towards Robin, who held her lighter outstretched towards him. “You’re lucky I don’t have that. All it would take is one jab of that fire in your direction and the amount of hairspray up in that wig of yours would make you go bald in an instant.” April couldn’t help but laugh as Steve flicked the lighter in DJ’s direction before bringing the joint to his lips, taking a puff. 

He handed it to April, who took a small drag and suppressed a cough as she handed it to Robin, who took a similar hit, who passed it to DJ, who held it to her lips far too long just to stop herself from thinking about the fact that her hand had brushed Robin’s. She coughed up a storm, handing the joint back to Steve, who laughed. 

“Little smaller next time, Wilkerson.” He advised, and she glared at him with watery eyes, trying to stop the coughs from coming out of her. They each took one more hit, then another, until a little less than half the joint was left, which Steve stubbed out to save for later. 

It didn’t take long until all of their brains were humming, tuned on the frequency of a certain kind of tranquilness that only came from joints like these. They all stared up at the sky, admiring the way the clouds went by, the shapes they made, the way they danced in the air. 

“This is nice.” Robin said. “I honestly wasn’t gonna come, but… this is nice.” 

“Yeah,” DJ agreed with a lazy smile. 

“If I’d have known you’d had weed up your sleeve, I would’ve invited you over a long time ago, Robin.” Steve said, turning towards her slightly. “Where’d you get it?” 

“You guys know Eddie Munson?” Robin asked. Steve frowned.

“Who?” He asked. 

“He’s a senior. He’s in that Dungeons and Dragons club, with the long hair? Looks like he could be straight out of Metallica, or something, and he’s kind of weird, but in a harmless way, and definitely nicer than he looks - but anyways, he sells weed, good weed, obviously, and my friend told me about him, and his prices aren’t too bad, so around last year, I started buying from him and was like ‘Oh! This is cool!’ and so I’ve kept going back and-”

“I think you've made your point.” Steve said, shutting the girl down before she could continue. DJ sat up, staring at him. 

“Let her speak.” Steve rolled his eyes as DJ laid back down again.

“So, anyways, yeah. I buy from Eddie. That was really the end of the story.” Robin said with a shrug. 

“I have such an urge to jump in the pool right now.” DJ said, eyes on the sunlight that danced across the water’s surface. 

“Don’t,” Steve warned, shielding his face from the sun with his arm, “You’re gonna get yourself killed.” 

“No, I’m not,” DJ argued. “And even if I did, you’re a lifeguard, right? So you could just save me or whatever.” Steve gave her a pointed look. 

“I’ll go in the pool with you!” Robin offered, sitting up in her own chair. DJ grinned, looking towards Steve again. 

“See? Two against one. April, you in?” April shook her head. 

“No, I’m good.” She said, eyes closed as Steve played with the ends of her hair. DJ shrugged, moving towards the edge of the pool.

“Okay, still two against one. That’s fine. Majority rules. But don’t worry, Mom, I won’t, like, backflip into the pool or anything.”

“You don’t know how to backflip.” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Get in the pool before I push you in.” Steve said, and though he made no effort to move, DJ cannonballed into the pool without another moment’s hesitation. 

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i hope you guys enjoyed this part! these characters are so special to me and i'm having such a fun time with their dynamics :)

[remotewatch]

can’t hit it one time, multiple

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 2.9k wc

minors dni but still get involved and stay informed politically let me be clear

summary: volunteering is so rewarding! being a part of a cause you believe in, educating first time voters, getting dicked by the campaign’s eye candy on your lunch break; it’s got everything!

cws: shameless classic 1D style smut, bus rocking, wrap it before you tap it on THE Harris campaign reproductive freedom bus (is it legally actionable to call it by its govt name), whatever the hell is going on with the JD videos cranked up to 100, reader calls him both diva and a slut, both not totally serious, his tripod is your wingman, this Barbie tastes like clementines, semi public sex I GUESS, sub!jack SOMEWHAT

many thanks to my editor (and co-writer this time around) @mystardustmelodyyy for the organizing and romantic flair 🩵🗳️

additional thanks to Jack and the team for the inspirational Philly content, do keep it up !!

Although your day of volunteering had been nothing terribly exciting so far- setting up chairs, guiding people to their seats, a LOT of directing lost families to the bathroom- the whole town hall was thrumming with a sense of hope that felt nothing short of electric. You didn’t realize how busy you’d been until you finally got a chance to sit down and make up some gift bags. That took no time at all, leaving you a nice free chunk of the day to wander around and soak up the atmosphere. There had been rumors of a free gelato truck, and the empty breezeway pointed to them being true. The sharp thwap of sambas slapping onto marble snapped you out of your daydreaming; almost empty, apparently.

As you rounded the corner, you spotted the source of the racket: America’s most polarizing nepo baby. Filming… a stunt of some kind? He takes a running start into a front flip, landing close enough to his tripod to throw it off balance. After repositioning it and trying again, his shoes slip in a puddle on the floor, forcing him to splay out a hand to avoid falling onto his ass.

You were well aware of Jack’s work; your feed was convinced you were precisely his target demo and had been pushing his content onto you since July. Maybe it wasn’t totally off base. Regardless, watching him struggle to land a perfect somersault was much more endearing than the finished videos. When he stands up for a third attempt and manages to tangle a tripod foot up with his pants in the process, you’re unable to suppress a fit of giggles.

“Are you winning over there, diva?”

Jack looks a bit sheepish when he first glances up but recovers quickly. He adjusts the tripod and hits you with the same smile your algorithm insists makes you weak.

“I think it’s still too close to call.”

“Did you want some help with the…whatever it is you’re recording?”

One of the tripod legs abruptly gives out, the clatter echoing around the breezeway. Jack winces and nudges the fallen hunk of fiberglass with his shoe.

“Yeah, that would be great, if you don’t mind.” Five long strides over to you and he’s pressing his phone into your hands, camera already open. “If you’d just follow- well, you saw what I was trying to do.”

You can’t say if it’s the pressure of a live audience of him being fed up with his previous attempts, but Jack flips perfectly into frame this time, proceeds immediately to an immaculate standing backflip, then takes off towards the other end of the breezeway without so much as glancing at the camera. He leaps up and clicks his heels a few steps in, only turning around when you’re starting to wonder if he’s just ditching the shoot altogether.

“How was that?” He shouts on his way back over.

“Looks good!” You have no earthly idea what he was going for, but it fits right in with the absurdist athletic vibe he’s been rocking with between his more overt political content.

“Aw, that’s great. Thank you!” he beams at you after looking over the footage (you try not to focus on how small the phone looks in his hands). “The lighting is perfect too.”

“Oh, good!” Thank god. “Did you need help with anything else?”

Jack rolls his eyes mischievously like he's considering letting you in on a huge secret. “I was actually going to film a thing or two for JD if you’ve got an extra minute.”

“For that? Absolutely!”

His grin stretches wider to match yours at that response, and you realize you’re smiling at each other like two idiots.

“I’m Jack, by the way.”

He repeats your name back after you introduce yourself, and you wish he’d do it again so you can keep watching his lips move saying it.

🔹🔹🔹🔹

This time, Jack gives you slightly more direction, guiding you to hold the phone at an angle just high enough to skew provocative as he leisurely strolls backwards through the hallway. You don’t need to coach him into angling his head just right to catch the afternoon sun in his eyes; he’s got the bambi look down pat.

“JD, I really miss you. Won’t you come home so we can be a family again?” He motions just out of frame for you to aim higher, but you’re already adjusting the shot before you see his signal. “You said I shouldn’t be voting because I’m not a dad like you. Is that true, JD? Or are you making up stories again?”

Jack glances backward to check if there’s enough room for him to keep up his pace, then breaks for a second to ask “Alright, one more?” The two octave difference almost makes you drop his phone, but you keep it together and nod.

His eyes crinkle up adorably when he smiles. “Sweet.” Then he’s back to business, eyefucking the camera like he just got out of prison.

“JD, I thought you knew everything, and you told me that I should never lie. How am I supposed to trust you if I don’t know when you're telling a story or not?”

You stick your bottom lip out and mouth “more”; he happily obliges. Jack looks every bit the foxy little public servant as he peers out at the lens from under his eyelashes.

“Can you help me understand, JD? I want to understand. I just need a little help. Can you show me?” Christ, he’s practically purring. Thankfully, he snaps back to director mode before you can get too lost in the rhythm.

“You think that was too much?”

“I think you could do a little more, to be really honest.”

His eyes narrow knowingly. “How so?”

“...You could go down on your knees.” You’re half joking at the most and still think you’ve crossed a line, but sure enough, he’s kneeling down and crossing his ankles like it couldn’t come more naturally to him.

He’s still plenty tall enough to bite your pant zipper, and you quickly shove the thought aside.

“Like this?”

“Yeah, perfect, just like that.”

This time, he might as well be on mute for all the words you’re processing. It’s all slow blinking doe eyes, curls bouncing with every emphatic head tilt, his tongue stretching out to wet his lips between sentences. The “Can you show me?” rocks straight through you and breaks the spell when Jack glances up at you. His expression shifts from mockingly innocent to coquettish for just a scorching, enduring moment, then he’s back on his feet, back to the bubbly, personable demeanor you’d expect from him.

“Thank you again for the help. She was NOT playing nice today.” he nods back at the tripod.

“Oh, it’s no problem! I love your work.” He waves a hand modestly.

“I love your work! You actually came out here and helped! It’s so much more important than what I do. Is this your first event?”

“It is! It’s my first time.”

“Well, we love first timers around here.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” The implication hits you a beat too late, so you pad it with a restrained “It’s really interesting to see the behind the scenes of it all.”

Jack rocks back on his heels, his eyebrows drawing up playfully.

“Have you seen the bus?”

“Of course I’ve seen the bus!”

“No, I meant the inside of it. Did you want to see that?” He allows himself the forwardness of a head tilt.

What else could you say?

“Yeah, I really would.”

🔹🔹🔹🔹

Bless the gelato truck, because there’s not a trace of human activity on this side of the building. You’re barely paying attention to the formality of a tour Jack’s giving; his enthusiasm is adorable, but the way his fingers spread as he’s pointing out every feature in the bus is making your mind wander.

“Shoes on or off?” you manage to ask.

“Oh, whatever you want. We’re not strict.” Off, then. “As you can see, this is where the magic happens.”

Once you get to the middle of the bus, the combination of campaign paraphernalia and scattered phone chargers, melatonin gummies, and cold brew cans feels like you’re getting a peek into something thrilling. There’s a map of tour stops tacked up with current polling results on a small whiteboard to the side. It’s close, but no doubt doable. You’re so swept up that you nearly smack your head on an open cabinet door when you turn back to face your host. His hand shifts back along its edge to cushion the impact before you can think to duck, and the heat from it makes your cheek tingle.

“Careful, it’s tight in here!” he teases.

It’s hard to shake the feeling of trespassing.

“Are you sure I’m good to be here?” Jack turns back from replenishing half empty swag baskets to smile reassuringly.

“No one needs it until one. When do you have to get back?”

“My break ends at one thirty.”

“I guess it’s our bus, then!” He fetches you a sparkling water from the minifridge and cracks open his own like he owns the place. You elect to remain standing and lean against one of the chairs opposite, certainly not because you want to have him looking up at you for as long as possible.

Jack is all long limbs and tanned striations as he stretches out on the bench seat like a cat, his wingspan nearly spanning its whole length. When he arches slightly to get comfortable, his shirt catches under his pecs and makes your mouth go dry. You wonder if you’re staring too much.

“So, do you have any other directing experience, or do you just have a knack for giving orders?” His head lolls to one side, soaking up your attention. One of his feet moseys it’s way over to you, and you uncross your ankles before it has a chance to nudge them in that direction.

“I think you’re just good at taking them.” Is that a blush you’re seeing? Jack breaks into a giggle that reads almost wistful.

“I was expecting you to tell me to roll over and balance a treat on my nose.”

“Anything for the campaign, right?”

“I mean, of course, but it's still those day to day interactions that are going to win this for us.”

“Yeah, the canvassing especially is really rewarding, I didn’t expect this many people to be undecided. I guess some of them still need a little convincing.” You plop down next to him, closer than you’d ever dare if he wasn’t flushed clear down to his shirt collar. Somehow, your right leg finds itself intertwined with his. He’s a fucking furnace, even directly under the AC unit.

“Not me though; I know exactly what I want to do.”

The corners of Jack’s mouth curl up without a shred of hesitation. He squints at you again before taking a slow pull of his Perrier, Adam’s Apple bobbing like it's begging you to bite it. His middle fingertip trails lazily around the rim as he sets it down. One last lip smack, then he’s pressing them onto yours and flooding your nose with the smell of clementines and sea salt.

The buzzing in your brain reaches a fever pitch when he drapes an arm around your waist to pull you closer. Tilting your head ever so slightly, your hand wanders up to cradle his face and press a thumb to his chin. A gentle push down to open Jack’s mouth and his tongue is snaking its way in, the obscene length of it sending sparks straight down to your clit. He breathes a contented, relieved moan into your mouth when your leg swings over his hips to straddle him, then little stilted mewls as you start rocking back and forth.

“You’re a little slut for democracy aren’t you? You tease, panting against his jawline.

“Who, me?” he grins and drags his hands up your thighs to settle on your ass, thumbs playing with your waistband.

You can feel your nipples hardening as you reach one hand out to steady yourself against the window. The bracing cold glass is delicious, but you flinch back when you spot people trickling back into view, gelato cups in hand, a few racing over to pose with the bus.

“Don’t worry; they can’t see you,” he chuckles along your sternum. Jack scooches too far forward trying to get a better angle to rut against you and nearly slides you both off the seat. You hear a whispered little “oh, shit,” before he scoops you up with one arm and shifts to stand, the other grabbing a spare water on his way to the rear of the bus. He collapses onto the deep sofa without missing a beat, but looks back up at you for reassurance, as if he’s somehow being presumptuous. You don’t even see it; you’re too busy yanking at his jeans like a madwoman after feeling how hard he is.

Concerns assuaged, he manages to pull both of your pants off without incident, only an accidental kick to the end table. Jack lets out a cackle when his hand slides low enough to feel you drip down his wrist.

“And I’m the slut for democracy?”

“Oh, shut up!”

You stretch behind him to the bin of condoms marked ‘F•CK PROJECT 2025’ on the far windowsill, shamelessly letting your breasts drag over his face in the process.

“It would really be a shame if we didn’t do some quality control, since we’re already here.” You trace one along his lips until they part to accept your gift.

“Such a waste,” Jack mimics you, if a bit muffled, as his incisors shred the foil wrapper. “And,” he adds cheekily with a shrug, “we’re fresh out of plan B.”

He’s already slid it on by the time you realize he’s unclipped your bra somewhere between here and the door, and you waste absolutely no time slipping him inside, so warm it makes you shudder. His eyelids flutter when you sit down fully; he’s whining like the bus is soundproof the second you get to work, all strained little whimpers and cut off syllables as you bounce in his lap. There’s not a minute to waste, and it’s showing in the breakneck pace you set. Jack’s movements are just as frantic, bucking up hard enough to threaten to throw you straight off this ride.

Desperate to see how far down he blushes, you slide your arms under his shirt, heat blooming up to your shoulders as you do. He gets your hint and tugs it off; you waste no time planting both hands on his pecs and letting your fingers run wild through his chest hair.

Meanwhile, your shirt and bra get caught on your elbow in the process of shedding them, and your left knee skids right off the couch while you’re distracted. Jack catches your shin effortlessly and plants his foot to keep his balance; you actually spot him smiling at his own reflexes. He rolls you both over without slipping out, chuckling a little “didn’t I tell you to be careful?” into your ear. He moves to let your leg down, and you throw it over his shoulder to keep him pinned flat against you before he can do so. The new angle restricts his range a bit, but he’s already shoving a hand down to strum at your clit, face millimeters from yours for the perfect view of just how much you’re loving it. He murmurs cockily when he sees you holding back. “Won’t you let me hear you?” There’s no way you’ll attract attention if you’re just moaning into his mouth, right?

It’s all too much; Jack’s whole body draped over you like a fever that won’t break, the way he’s panting down your throat every time you clamp around him, the little calluses on his occupied fingertips and how they maintain their perfect, unbearable pace no matter how much you thrash around. You can barely squeak out a “fuck, Jack, please-,”

His “I know, I know,” sounds just as ragged and that tips you right over the edge.

Jack’s composure completely unravels with the first pulse. His eyes screw shut and his hips still as deep as he can get to ride it out with you. You’re shaking and frothing like a can of Pepsi- sweet and sticking all along his slicked-flat happy trail as you lift your leg a little higher and over the back of his neck to pull him in closer. The beads of sweat on his forehead drip onto yours when he falls into another messy kiss, aftershocks buzzing comfortably through you both.

His phone timer jolts you out of your shared stupor.

“What is that?”

“12:30,” he groans into the couch cushion. “Sit tight, I’ll get you a towel.

🔹🔹🔹🔹

Jack is steaming your dress pants in one sock and his Hanes like its second nature, and it’s making a strong case for the hottest thing he could possibly do. In a few minutes, he’ll go out the front of the bus and stir up the crowd while you exit through the back.

“Take a bev for the road if you’d like.” He slaps the minifridge pointedly.

“Thanks, you’re such a good host!” you hadn’t moved from where you were laid out on the sofa; it was too much fun watching him get flustered from the compliment, “This was fun, getting to know you and all.”

“Yeah it was,” his tone is achingly sincere as he smiles back at you, face getting flushed all over again “...Not to be too bold, but could I get your number?”

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

pairing: bang chan x fem reader

wc: 1.9k

genre: smut

warnings: rough oral (m. receiving), semi public? (in a bathroom), pet names, i think that’s all?

masterlist

you were backstage at MusicCore. the green room was chaotic at this point, the boys were on stage next and were getting their last minute touch ups. the energy was high, vocal warm ups going on around you. you sat back on the couch and watched them. you loved these moments, where you could just sit back and observe them in their natural element. you loved them all so much and were so proud of them. this comeback has been amazing so far and you know they’ve worked so hard. especially your boyfriend, chan. he nearly works himself to death, with little sleep and lots of stress. he’s so busy all the time that you start to worry about him. but you know it’s no use. he knows his limits and you know he wouldn’t change a thing. a staff member pokes their head in the room and announces it’s time for them to head to side stage. the boys file out of the room, one by one. chan always being at the end of the line, he stops in front of you.

he looks so good. you thought this had to be one of his best outfits yet. at least, it���s your favorite one he’s worn in a long time. the light colored denim pants he wore were covered in pockets of different sizes and they hung low on his hips, the elastic band of his boxers peaking out over the top. he wore a complimentary light blue long sleeve crop top with a zipper down the front. what you would give to be able to unzip him. his muscles peaked out from under the crop top, but you couldn’t see much. he looked down at you, his perfectly styled, tousled hair tickling his forehead. the dark eye makeup he wore only added to his ‘rock star’ aesthetic. he brushed your hair behind your ear, before leaning down and kissing the top of your head.

"be back soon, baby." he said.

you smiled up at him and nodded. "good luck"

with a brush of his thumb against your cheek, he exited, leaving you alone in the room. not long after, the television announced the start of their performance. you watched intently, having trouble keeping your eyes off of chan. seeing him perform always seemed to get you riled up, and couple that with this insanely hot outfit he was wearing today.. you were feeling it in some very intimate places. the song came to a close with all of them in their ending pose, one hand in the air. your eyes locked on chan. his one hand in the air had his chiseled stomach on full display. his chest was heaving as he panted, out of breath. his abs flexing with each breath he took. he dropped his hand, placing his hands on his hips, trying to catch his breath, and simultaneously stealing yours. he adjusted his pants briefly and then bit his lip before letting out a small smirk. an involuntary "oh my god" left your lips at the sight. and then the screen went black. "oh.. my god." you said again, bringing your hand to your mouth. you didn’t know how long you sat there, dumbfounded, before the door crashed open and a loud ruckus of boys entered the room. you stood from the couch, wanting to congratulate them on another great performance but you weren’t confident in your ability to form words. and that fear was cemented as chan walked in, still slightly out of breath, sweat glistening on his skin. you gently pushed through the others, who were joyfully talking amongst themselves, and beelined for chan.

"can i talk to you for a minute?" you asked quietly.

"let me change my clothes real quick-" he said, reaching for his bag.

"no!" you exclaimed, louder than you intended. he looked over at you finally.

he must have noticed the look on your face, because he said "baby, what’s wrong?"

"nothing." you said, glancing around nervously. "it’s just really important that i talk to you right now." you said, tugging on his shirt sleeve, pulling him toward the door. he obliged, letting you pull him out of the green room and down the hallway. you rounded a corner and found a bathroom. not the classiest option, you thought, but you didn’t care at that moment. pulling him inside, you shut the door behind him and locked it.

"honey, what’s happening?" he asked, confused. his back was against the bathroom door and you took a step back and just looked at him. he looked nervous. could he really not tell how you were feeling in this moment? you were feeling hot and uncomfortable in your wet underwear, and completely in love and needy. he started to reach for you, as he raised his arm, his shirt also lifted, revealing his stomach to you once again. you felt weak, your legs giving out as you dropped to your knees in front of him. this startled him and he started to kneel with you, to check on you, but you stopped him by placing your hands on his hips. your face was level with his pelvis now. the elastic band of his boxers only inches from your lips. you looked up at him through your lashes, your eyes pleading.

"baby?" he brought his hand to your hair, brushing it out of your face. he looked so incredibly sexy, towering over you like this, the next thought that crossed your mind managed to slip past your lips.

"you’re a god." you said quietly. but in the silent bathroom, he heard you perfectly clear. he chuckled, embarrassed, his cheeks turning a light pink as he looked away from you. you leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the exposed skin just below his belly button. his head snapped back to you in an instant. "this outfit, channie.." you whispered against his skin. "it’s ruining me." your fingertips gently ran up his sides, pushing his shirt up, fully revealing his hard abdomen. you gently kissed him again, this time just to the right of his belly button.

he inhaled sharply. "y/n, im all sweaty.." he warned.

"that’s even better." you told him, before flattening your tongue against his skin and licking a stripe up the middle. he tasted salty in your mouth and you felt your needy clit throbbing. you rubbed your thighs together trying to get some friction. you kissed his stomach again, and licked again, wanting to devour him. you looked up at him, as your tongue traced the lines of his muscles. he was panting again, but for a whole different reason. his pupils were blown wide, his eyes so full of love and adoration but at the same time filled with lust and need. you nibbled at his skin with your teeth, causing him to groan slightly. you reached for the button on his pants, pulling it free.

"princess.. you don’t have to." he said gently.

"channie, i want to." you unzip him and slip your hand inside, palming his erection through his boxers. "please, can i?" you begged.

"i can’t say no to you. not when you ask so sweetly." he helps you pull his pants and underwear down, letting them pool at his ankles. his cock springs free, fully erect and leaking. your mouth waters at the sight. you grab him by the base and lick the precum from his tip. you take the head of his cock into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it. "fuck" he breaths out, his eyes shut, his mouth slightly open. you start to suck him gently, slowly taking all of him into your mouth. your nose brushes the skin of his stomach as you gag around his length. you pull him all the way out, a string of saliva still connecting your lips to him, and you take a deep breath. his hands find your hair, his fingertips brushing your scalp. he guides your mouth back on him. he pushes your head down until your gagging again. "that’s it, baby. choke on my cock." he says, breathlessly. he releases you and you pull away gasping for air. you hold him in your hand, stroking him, before leaning down and taking one of his balls in your mouth. you suck on it for a moment before doing the same to the other.

"fuck, baby. your so good.. sucking my cock in the bathroom. such a little cock slut." he says. you moan around him, sending shivers through his body. you return your attention to his cock, taking him in your mouth again. he grabs fistfuls of your hair, forcing himself down your throat again. he begins to thrust in and out of your mouth harshly, drool dripping down your chin. you look up at him with watery eyes, loving when he uses you like this. "my perfect girl just couldn’t control herself could she?" he teases. "needed my cock so bad, huh baby?" you attempt to nod with him in your mouth. "give me your hand." he orders. you lift your right hand in the air. he grabs you by the wrist, bringing your hand to his stomach. you can feel his hard muscles under your fingertips. "is this what got you all wet, baby?" you moan around him, you pussy clenching around nothing, begging to be touched.

"keep touching me, im going to cum in this pretty mouth." he says. your hand explores the ridges and valleys of his abs as he continues to fuck your throat. "fuck, princess. gonna take all my cum, yeah? such a good girl for me." he babbles, his thrusts getting sloppy. "made to take my c-cock. fuck." he stills, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he shoots his load down your throat. his abs flexing under your palm.

he pulls out of your mouth, panting. you swallow everything he gives you, not wanting to waste a single drop. he helps you up off the floor, cradling your face in his hands. he kisses you softly. "baby.." he says. "you’re so perfect." he kisses your forehead now. he pulls back, putting you at arms length. "are you okay? i wasn’t too rough was i? are your knees okay? this floor is hard." he looks you over, searching for any signs of discomfort. his hands rub up and down your arms, worriedly.

"channie, im fine." you tell him. "more than fine. im great."

he chuckles at that, pulling his pants up and buttoning them. he pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head. "are you sure you’re okay?" he asks again. "i feel like i was too rough."

"i promise you weren’t." you say into his shirt. "i like it when you’re rough with me."

he breathes in the scent of your shampoo. "i love you, baby." he whispers. "the guys are probably looking for us."

he pulls away and reaches for the door.

"are we going home?" you ask. "im.. messy." you admit shyly, your cheeks flushing pink. "need you."

"of course baby." he kisses your temple. "let’s go home and i’ll show you how rough i can be, yeah?"

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

[madameaug]

I really love your stories sm idk if you take requests or not but if you are could I request where Jungkook won’t stop smacking and grabbing his girlfriends butt (we all know he’s an ass man i can 100% confirm that ☝🏽🤓)

Agreed, agreed. Jungkook may not be touchy in public, but in private. Heh well that's a different story.

Pairing: Jennette x Jungkook

*this is just the outfit Jennette is in*

"I hate the cold so much," Jennette muttered to herself. She had gotten up twice in the past two minutes to grab a thicker blanket. The thermostat read 67 degrees, but it felt like the Arctic. Winters in Korea were no joke. She yearned for nothing else than for the Georgia heat. After taking the next big step in their relationship. Jennette made the big move across two large oceans to Busan. Her adjustment period was much quicker than that of other Americans moving to a homogenous country. She had her boyfriend Jungkook, his friends, and her co-workers. Who knew South Korea was in desperate need of social workers. Jennette worked for a private multi-million fertility adoption clinic. Ensuring that children who were in foster care went to good homes. She loved her job, the people she worked with, and the couple extra hundred dollars in her biweekly paycheck.

After another week of going to the office, Jennette and Jungkook decided to host a game night. It was a tradition that started six months ago that the two couples and Yoongi would hang out with each other at least once a month.

She had Twister, Cards Against Humanity, Game of Life, and Uno across the glass table in her living room. Earlier in the week she deep cleaned the carpet. So she could just relax and wait for her guest and Jungkook to arrive. With perfect timing, Jungkook's key chains rocked against the door, announcing his return.

"I got the pasta, baby." Jennette had been talking about her favorite cheesy pasta dish at the local Italian mom-and-pop shop. It was loaded with four different types of cheeses. The pasta was made in-house and beautifully cut into an angel hair shape she loved, along with the prestigious garlic bread with just enough crunch.

"Thank you so much, bug." Handing her the bag, Jennette took a moment to allow the thin paper bag to sit on her lap. Enjoying the transfer of heat from the food onto her thighs. She relaxed into the couch, slowly transcending into heaven.

"The girls texted me not long ago. They are crossing the bridge, so they should be here soon."

"Okay."

Coming back from the kitchen, Jungkook admired Jennette's form. She is beyond a blanket burrito status. All you could see was the round puff of her cheeks and her purple glasses. Two thick comforters wrapped around her head from head to toe.

"Baby, are you that cold?"

She couldn't even respond to the simple question due to her uncontrollable teeth chattering. Motioning her to come to him. Like a cricket, Jennette was rubbing her feet together. Attempting anything to get some warmth.

"Its to- too cold."

"Lemme warm you up." He leaned over and flipped the switch, igniting the fireplace in the living room. The fire put on a warm glow on Jungkook's olive skin.

"You have two minutes." It took Jennette a couple of seconds to untangle herself from the wrap of blankets. Shuddering over to Jungkook, she hugged him. Her hands slipped past his denim jacket and touched his warm, bare skin. Jungkook had to control himself from jumping at the cold touch. He placed his head horizontally over hers. Jungkook rarely had an issue with skinship. He was going to take any chance he had to be in Jennette's personal space. If he could shrink himself to fit in her skin, best believe he would.

Jennette sunk her head so that her face was in front of his abdomen. Her lower back was now low enough for Jungkook to get the perfect view of her butt crack.

Jungkook took it upon himself to rub her butt is a soothing manner. Jennette was too busy soaking in the warmth to nag him about his frisky hands. Jungkook used the palm of his hands to rub her behind in a circular pattern. This would have put her to sleep if they weren't expecting their friends to arrive in a few minutes. The couple stood in a comfortable silence, slightly rocking. Jennette couldn't lie and say that Jungkook was an efficient heater. She squeezed him tighter.

"I don't know how you can remain so warm. YOO! WHAT THE FUCK!" Jennette screamed, holding onto her pants. Jungkook, slightly embarrassed, hid the smile growing on his lips.

"Sorry baby I got carried away."

In one swift motion, Jungkook's big hands took an oversized grip on her ass. He lifted Jennette off the ground with all his strength, effectively startling her. Calming down, she swatted his chest.

"I gotta keep my eye on you." Jennette laughed off the manner, not knowing what more the night and Jungkook would have to offer.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

The six adults were in an intense round of Twister. Jungkook and Nala were already out for not keeping their hands on the designated color. Now, it was just Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jennette. Hoseok looked like a cool cucumber. Twister was simply a flexibility test to him. A piece of cake. He was glad he was pretty limber, or this bridge position would have been challenging to hold. He now had to move his left foot to a yellow dot just an inch away from where it originally was.

"Ha! Easy."

Now it was Jennette's turn. Out of the three of them, she was in the most accessible position. She was a simple upright position with her legs slightly spread. Yoongi was hunched over with one hand touching the mat. The spinner was behind her, so she asked Jungkook to flick the spinner for her.

"Ooo, left hand on blue." Nala cheesed.

Jennette gulped, assuming a downward dog position. She could only maintain this position for a few seconds until her right hand could be another circle. Preferably another blue circle. Trying to keep her balance, her hips swayed in the hair. Catching the lingering eyes of Jungkook. From this angle, nothing was stopping Jungkook from staring. Sipping on his beer, he found himself in deep thought.

Did Jennette's butt get bigger?

Jungkook looked like that meme of the woman with math equations floating across her face. The further he lingered on his girlfriend's curves, the more complicated it would be for him to pretend to be expected in front of his friends. But genuinely, he was confused. The loungeset was naturally baggy. Even her pants pooled at her ankles. Yet it appeared to become body-contouring at certain parts. Her thighs and butt to be particular. There was no panty line shown in her pants. Just the upper fatty portion of her behind. It was a sunrise over flat land. All you can see is how big and wide the sun truly is. There are no trees or buildings to shrink the overgrown star.

Her butt must have really gotten bigger.

Letting his impulses get the best of him, Jungkook popped Jennette's behind. The force was enough to get Jennette to break formation, eliminating her from the game.

"Jungkook!"

"One down, one more to go."

"That's not fair!"

"Don't be a sore loser, babe. Come join us at the loser couch."

Hoseok was okay with the obvious Jungkook interference. He was too competitive to care about 'fairness'. Out was out, and he now stood a more substantial chance at winning. In his eyes, Jungkook just helped his case by eliminating Jennette.

" You're the worst." She folded her arms now watching the battle between Yoongi and Hoseok.

<3 <3 <3 <3

"Alright, what is up with you?" Jennette pulled Jungkook into the kitchen away from their friends' sitting, watching a cheesy Hallmark Thanksgiving film.

"What do you mean? I'm not doing anything."

"Your hand was literally down my pants." He wasn't being completely inappropriate. He was tired of massaging the fabric of her lounge pants. He wanted to touch the real thing. He had to ensure that his eyes weren't playing tricks about the actual size of Jennette's ass. So he slid his hand down her pants, rubbing her bare behind.

Jennette stuck her head out, ensuring her friends were still watching the movie. She could see that they were dozing off. Yoongi's eyes were closed, and his baseball cap covered his eyes.

"You don't want me to touch you? That's all you had to say."

"No, it's not that. It's just- well. You are typically more reserved with your touches, especially in front of others."

"You're beauty had just been hitting different baby. I don't want to take it for granted."

"I literally look the same Jungkook."

"Your pants say otherwise. You've been filling out your pants, baby."

"Nig- boy shut up. Stop playing."

"I'm serious. You getting thick on me." Jungkook new what words to blow up Jennette's head with. For all of her adult life, she was on the slimmer side. A 'skinny fat'. The weight that she did gain went to her thighs, skipping her ass entirely. Now hearing from Jungkook that her butt was getting bigger, she was feeling herself.

"Are you sure." She spun around to examine her own butt.

While standing in the kitchen, she fixed herself another scoop of the cheesy pasta that she had yet to finish earlier.

"Before, I only needed one hand, but now I need two. Almost a third hand."

Jennette busted out laughing. Jungkook tapped Jennette's butt rhythmically. Playing with her ass like there were literal bongos (no Cardi or Meg)

Taking her spoon, she gathered a generous amount. She held the spoon ready to feed Jungkook. He opened his mouth and accepted. Moaning at the four different cheeses.

"See? It's so good." She alternated feeding him and herself. Yet again Jungkook's hands found themselves on her butt. Grabbing handfuls of her butt, with not a care in the world.

XOXO

(now cleaned up)

[stonathandreamer]

Glasses

🔸 Masterlist

Where Jonathan finds out Steve wears glasses.

(Steve Harrington wears glasses and that is not up for debate!)

--------------------------👓👓--------------------------

Jonathan pulls up in front of the Harrington residence, spotting two cars parked in the driveway. He takes a deep breath. Having to deal with Steve's parents can be exhausting at times.

Mrs. Harrington is a nice lady but can also be slightly snobbish at times, while Mr. Harrington has the personality of a rock worn by the tides; he's just there, not caring about anything - wife and son included. Jonathan tried talking to him once; his only response was 'hum'. According to Steve, his dad only talks to him when he wants to chastise his life choices, poor grades, or lack of a real, decent job.

Jonathan shook his head slightly, got out of his car, and walked to the front door, gently knocking on it. Jonathan swung his arms back and forth as he waited, feeling the chilly night breeze at the back of his neck. It was a rather cold night with light rain forecasted. He had an umbrella in the backseat of the car in case of emergencies.

A commotion was heard from the inside - the unmistakable voices of Mr. and Mrs. Harrington, probably asking each other to answer the door. It swung open a few seconds later, revealing Mrs. Harrington in a beautiful (and obviously expensive) black dress.

"Oh, Jonathan, it's you! Come in, honey." She gestured for him to come inside while adjusting her pearl necklace. "Steven mentioned you two would hang out tonight. He's in his room getting ready. You know the way!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Harrington. You look beautiful, by the way."

Mrs. Harrington smiled as she fixed her hair - she was definitely the one who passed Steve the good hair genes.

"Who was it?" Mr. Harrington's monotonous voice came from the living room.

"Just Jonathan!"

"Who?"

"Jonathan!" She yelled far too loudly. "Steve's friend! The one who's always with him!"

Friend, he mentally scoffed while climbing up the stairs to Steve's room - it was funny just how oblivious these two are, almost like they live in a different universe. According to Dustin, anyone who looked at Steve and Jonathan for more than 10 seconds knew they were dating.

Steve's door was closed, and Jonathan could hear him humming a song, probably from ABBA. He knocked on the door and opened it after hearing a faint "come in."

"Hey, Steve."

The boy in question, who was standing in front of his closet, looking for a jacket that matched the shirt he was wearing, swiftly turned his head around, like he was trying to hide something.

"Jon, hey! H-how are you?"

His hands were behind his back, definitely hiding something.

"What are you hiding?"

"Nothing."

Jonathan rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going to laugh if it's your Farrah Fawcett hairspray."

"I-it isn't..." He lowered his eyes and sighed. "It's my glasses."

He removed his hands from behind his back, revealing a pair of round, thin-framed glasses.

Steve was always embarrassed about wearing his glasses in public, remembering how Tommy H. always made fun of his fellow classmates who wore glasses, calling them 'four eyes' or other stupid names. So he always wears them when he's at home.

Jonathan looked at Steve's glasses for a few seconds and then looked back at him.

"That makes sense," was all he said, taking Steve aback. He thought his boyfriend was going to tease him or something. Like, why wouldn't he? Everyone made fun of people who wore glasses.

"Huh?"

"You're always squinting your eyes. I thought it was just a bad habit," he replied, shrugging, eyes turning to look at the glasses in Steve's hand. "Can... Can you put them on? Just for a second."

He nodded and put the glasses back on. As soon as he put them on, a fond smile appeared on Jonathan's face. That was new. Steve knew the glasses made his vision less blurry, but he didn't know that they also made smiles appear on his boyfriend's face.

"What?"

He asked, tilting his head to the right, curious as to why Jonathan was smiling - given that Jonathan Byers was not the type of guy who smiled all the time.

"Nothing. It's just... You look cute with glasses."

His cheeks immediately flushed red.

"R-really? You don't think I look stupid? Or like a nerd? Or..."

"No, I think you look perfect."

Jonathan still had that stupid smile on his face. God, that stupid and cute smile that Steve loved.

Without a second thought, Steve stepped forward and kissed him, taking Jonathan slightly by surprise. They never kissed when Steve's parents were nearby - or within a 2km radius, just in case.

"Steve... Y-your parents!"

"Relax, my dad never comes into my room, and you know my mom, you can hear her from miles away." He gave him a quick peck on the lips before turning his attention back to the closet. "Which jacket do you think is better, the gray or the black one?"

***

Steve went down the stairs (wearing his gray jacket), Jonathan right behind.

"Bye, mom, bye, dad, we're going out!"

"Bye-bye, sweetie... Oh, you're wearing your glasses!"

"Yeah, Jonathan said I should wear them more."

"Really?"

"I just told Steve he shouldn't strain his eyes, unless he wants to wear bigger glasses in the future."

"I've been telling him that for years!"

"Jonathan can be really persuasive, mom." He rubbed the back of his neck, not wanting this conversation to continue any longer. "Anyway, we're leaving. C'mon, Jonathan!"

He grabbed his (boy)friend's arm and quickly left the house.

Jonathan drove on the last date, so today it's Steve's turn. He opened the passenger seat's door for Jonathan, giving him a quick bow.

"Monsieur."

What a gentleman. Jonathan rolled his eyes while trying to contain a smile.

"So... Where are we going?"

He asked when Steve got in the car.

"There's this new restaurant that opened recently. I think you're gonna love it!" He started the car. "And if you don't like it... It was all Robin's idea."

"You ask Robin for date ideas?"

"No, she just gives them without me having to ask."

The date went perfectly. Jonathan loved the place Robin suggested, and after dinner, they drove aimlessly through town (something they both find relaxing), listening to music and holding hands - and occasionally kissing whenever they stopped at a red light and no one was there to see them.

***

The next day, Jonathan drove Will and Mike to Starcourt Mall - they wanted to buy some comic books and 'it was too hot to ride their bikes', a shitty way of saying 'we're too lazy to bike there'.

Well, since he was already there, Jonathan might as well stop by Scoops Ahoy and pay Steve a visit - and no, he did not think about it when Will and Mike asked for a ride to the mall.

The ice cream parlor wasn't as busy as he thought, given that today was quite warm. Steve was leaning over the counter, head down, reading a magazine.

"Hey, Steve." His head shot up as soon as he heard his boyfriend's voice. Aside from the wide smile, there was something else that caught Jonathan's attention. "You're wearing your glasses?"

"Yep!" He pushed his glasses gently with the index finger of his right hand. "Figured I should wear them more. Don't want my eyesight to worsen for not wearing them, y'know."

"Liar!" Robin yelled from the back room. "He's only wearing them because you said he looks cute with them."

Steve turned beet red while Jonathan just smiled and shook his head.

"Well..." Jonathan leaned closer. "You look cuter when you wear them with your uniform."

He got even redder - a little more and Steve will explode.

Robin rolled her eyes and made a mark on a board with "Steve x Jonathan" written on it.

Steve: 3 x Jonathan: 7.

----------------------------------------------------------

[gretavanlace]

Dirty Filthy Things 2

Jake kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, language, light impact play, anal play, somewhat public, anal toys, anal sex, etc. porn without out plot…ask if I care ❤️

When Jake presents you with a beautiful box, adorned with dried flowers, in lieu of the traditional bow, you’re expecting a gift, of course…

A bracelet, perhaps. Maybe a mixtape; he’s fond of creating those for you just to watch you tear up when you listen to them on the vintage record/cassette tape player he had refurbished. A keychain from a place he’s been and would now like to take you to visit. A rock he found and knew you’d love.

He presents lovely offerings. Usually unique, and unexpected, so you’re used to never knowing what you’re going to find beneath the wrapping paper. But this one? This one you hadn’t seen coming…

Lid lifted, you find a solid, clear, glass plug nestled and waiting amongst tissue paper. It’s solid when you close your fingers around it, but light enough that you could wear it comfortably…you think.

He’s watching you with an amused glint in his eye. It’s nearly childlike, the way you’re inspecting it with such surprise, and a hint of trepidation.

His voice, when it comes, is quiet…betraying how much simply watching you hold it has turned him on “Do you like it?”

“Would you like a truthful answer?” You ask, running a finger over the smooth glass.

“Always.” He nods, looping a lock of your hair around his finger idly.

“I like it very much. It’s pretty…is that weird to say?” He laughs, just a breath of a sound. “But I’m also a little afraid of it.”

“How afraid?” He’s about to weigh whatever you say heavily, you can feel it. He won’t stand for you walking into something you aren’t comfortable with just to please him.

Out of the box it comes again, with you rolling it back and forth in your palm. “Just afraid enough to make me want it even more. Will it hurt?”

He plucks it out of your hand gently and sits it aside before turning back to you, thumb and fingers clasping your chin delicately. “No, princess,” he promises, lips so close to yours his breath warms them. “It won’t hurt.”

When his tongue slips out to taste your kiss, you allow it and then turn around, suddenly impatient. Down go your panties, just low enough to give him the room he needs, and then up goes the old t shirt you’d been padding around the house in.

“What are you doing, baby?” He teases, with a sinful smile in his tone.

“Put it in.” Your request is a shaky whisper as you drop down against the cool wood of the dining room table, eagerly offering yourself up in delectable sacrifice.

“Is someone attempting to run the show?” His wrinkled, linen pants are pressed against the round swell of your ass now, just to let you feel how hard he is for you.

“No.” You arch back into him, needing more.

“No, you aren’t, are you?” His thumb has found its way into your mouth from behind. “Because you’re my good girl, aren’t you? My very best little princess who knows much, much better…”

“Mhmm…” you hum around him, sucking away as he presses his thumbprint into the flat of your tongue.

He fucks you there, bent over the table, with that very thumb slipped inside your ass, moving at a slow, half-maddening, clip that matches the drag of his cock…

But your new accessory lies ignored.

Days later, with you dolled up pretty for him in his favorite dress and a pair of heels he enjoys listening to the click of when you walk, he kisses your forehead while you toy with the ancient coin that swings about against his chest.

“You look good enough to eat.” He has chosen his words purposely, you know, to make you imagine him doing just that.

Stealing his heart away with a charmingly adorable blush, you adjust the collar of his blazer. “So do you, pretty boy.”

“M’not pretty.” He lands a light swat against your thigh. “Ruggedly handsome, yes. Intimidatingly good looking? Absolutely. Pretty?” He waits a beat and then nods. “Yes, that too, I suppose. You’re right.”

“And modest to boot.” You finger comb at his tangles, not thinking much of it when his hand slips into his pocket, until the plug is presented - an offering held up with a cocked, questioning, eyebrow.

“Tonight?” You shiver at the very thought, and he notices, because of course he does.

“Oh,” there’s that grin again. “Someone’s excited. Have you been waiting?”

“What a patient girl.” He praises when you nod up at him with doe eyes, fingers curled around his lapels.

It slips inside, slick from his gorgeous mouth, and leaves you deliciously full. A devious little secret tucked away inside you, warm and indecent. It sets your nerve endings blazing and your cunt throbbing.

When he slides your panties down around your ankles and helps you to step out of them, you’re sure you’ll soak through your dress at the restaurant. But, for some reason you’d almost welcome the stinging humiliation of weaving your way through tables with the evidence of what he’s done to you on display for all to see.

Let them stare. Let them talk. Let the women seethe with jealousy…they should. Let them want what’s yours, you don’t mind. The prize is taking you home tonight.

He fucks you that night, too. Spinning and tugging away at the plug as you whine into the pillow beneath you and beg for his cock there instead.

“Not yet, princess.” He soothes so softly after each whimper and plea. “Not yet.” His words are laced with calm and care, but you hear it there too…the wanton satisfaction that comes with listening to you beg for his cock in such a forbidden place.

He’s carried you so far, shown you so many darkened corners of yourself that you never knew existed, and he’s always anxious to guide you deeper…but all in good time, lest he frighten you away from yourself.

The very next night, you, with your soaked and fluttering cunt wrapped snug around the base of his cock, and he, stretched out beneath you, hair a tousled halo spilled out around the sheets, he holds you down firmly in his lap.

“Let me move…” you pout, nails digging dull nips of pain that he relishes, into his chest. “Let me…” you squirm in his grip. “Let me fuck you…I need, fuck, please…”

“You need what?” He tilts his head in feigned confusion. “Tell me what my sweet, sweet princess needs.”

“Need to cum…” tears are gathering in the corners of your eyes, spilling down your cheeks when you attempt to blink them away.

They blur your vision, setting everything in a dreamlike haze as you watch him lick his fingers and reach behind you.

“How about if I slide my cock out of this pretty little pussy that’s hugging and squeezing me like such a sweetheart, and slip it in right here, instead?”

He punctuates himself by nudging the tip of his finger inside, reveling in the way your eyes widen in lustful surprise.

“Fuck…” the obscenity drags out of you, soft and slow, as you try to back up into his touch.

“Yeah?” In a bit deeper he pushes.

“Yeah…” you nod urgently. Who knew you could need it this badly?

“Ask real nice, angel…” he can’t resist taunting you. Loves to coax you along, to leave you desperate and writhing for whatever he’s willing to give. “Tell me where my dirty, filthy thing wants my cock. C’mon baby, be good and tell me.”

“You know where I want it.” You pound your fist once, and then twice against his chest…a muted, bratty tantrum.

“In your mouth?” He raises his hips when you shake your head no, grinding the tip of his dick against your cervix. “Here? In your perfect cunt? Is that where you want me?”

Rocking against his touch as it sinks in a little deeper, you fix him with a babydoll-gaze he can’t deny.

“Someone isn’t fighting fair,” his free hand strokes into your hair. “That’s okay, I know what you want, and I know where you want it. You feel that?”

He begins a rhythmic push and pull that should feel wrong, but feels more right than anything ever has.

“Yes,” your head falls back, lips parted.

On and on he goes, watching you with love and fascination blazing in his eyes, though you’re too far gone to notice. But, just as you’re clawing your way to the edge, he stops…easing his fingers out as your slick walls pulse and coil around his twitching length.

“Roll over, princess,” he rasps, clearly struggling to cling to some semblance of composure, “On your knees, alright?”

You do as he says, because of course you do, you would stand outside the gates of hell and insult the devil for Jake’s amusement should he decide to drag you to hell.

You can feel him behind you…the weight of his presence, his warmth, his love -

And then you can feel him…his palms, gingerly babying your skin, his lips meandering a trail over the small of your back as he breathes you in. “Need you to relax for me, princess. Can you do that? Can you relax and breathe? So it doesn’t hurt? You gotta help me take care of you.”

You nod without hesitation, assuring him.

More kisses and laps of his silken tongue pepper your back, whispered words melting against you, bruises suckled along your spine, fingers dancing a slow waltz where you never thought you’d want them.

“Please…” you finally whine, no longer able to stand it.

“There it is.” He lifts away from you and your skin instantly craves his lips, misses them, longs for them. How you wish you could feel him everywhere, all over you, all at once.

You’re buzzing with excitement, and a touch of uncertainty…and hyper-alert, but you still somehow manage to miss him fumbling around in the bedside drawer. The cap snapping open on a bottle of lube escapes you as well, but the vibrator that is suddenly humming against you pulls you out of the clouds.

A shaky moan causes his eyes to roll back in his head, though you can’t see it. “You keep it right there, princess…make that pretty clit feel nice. Deep breaths, yeah?”

A pitiful whimper of his name is all you can call forth, but that does just fine for him.

“You remember what you say if you want to stop, babe?” There are his palms again, petting over the dimples in your lower back.

Assuring him that you do sets him in motion, and you’re met with his pillowy head drawing slick circles over you. “You clench up every time I move,” he breathes. “It’s cute. You’re so fucking gorgeous everywhere. You shouldn’t be this pretty here.”

Blushing furiously over his praise, you swirl the vibrator around, chasing down the pleasure to run from the delicious shame of it all “Stop saying things like that.”

They should sound wrong ringing in your ears, those words of his…they don’t, but they should.

“Why should I stop?” He nudges against you, but with barely there pressure. “My girl is perfect…my beautiful princess. And her ass is as pink as her cunt, and I can’t believe she’s going to let me put my cock inside her, and I’m gonna fucking tell her all about it.”

Turning to hide in the pillow, your admonishment is muffled. “Jake, shh…”

For once, he listens and moves on. “Breathe, baby…remember? You just relax and breathe.”

He can feel you soften beneath him, but he checks in anyway. “You still good, baby? Because I’d be just as happy to fuck you like I always do. Just wanna be inside you.”

“No…” your fingers dart back and are stuffed into your pussy in a blink, simultaneously giving you something to clench around and barring his entrance. “Give it to me, please. Please, Jake…please.”

Cumming right then and there, with his hand fisted around his cock, watching you fuck yourself while begging for something you seem to think you shouldn’t want…it seems like a real possibility. One he’d almost like to give in to, he’s so fucking turned on…

Instead, he begins a slow, halting voyage. Pushing in little by little as you writhe and gasp below him, vibrator still working away as you finger fuck your cunt harder, driven by the blissful, burning sting.

“It hurts…” you pant, and he almost pulls out, until you finish your thought. “It hurts so good. More…”

Your entire body is flushed, blotchy dots of pink forming up your back like a roadmap. He trails a finger along the path, hand disappearing into the dampened hair at the nape of your neck to give it a swift tug. “You like it, princess?’

“All the way…” you plead feverishly. “Fuck it in all the way.”

The way that you’ve worded it sets him wild, and he has to actively fight the urge to slam into you. The way you would scream and likely try to scramble away…fuck.

When he drives in as deeply as he possibly can, though, he’s gentle. Loves you far too much to hurt you, even if he might indulge in the power trip of it all in his head now and then.

High pitched gasps are stuttering out of you, staccato and hitched, but your fingers are moving even faster now, and he can feel you clenching violently.

“You love that, don’t you, princess? Feeling full everywhere? Fingers in your cunt, cock in your ass?” The swift crack of his hand against the swell of your hip happens before he’s even registered his need to hear the dominant snap of impact.

“Yesssyesyesyesyes…” it moans out of you, hardly words at all.

He jerks your head up until your eyes are focused warily on the headboard. “Next time, I’m gonna suction one of your cocks right there, make you suck it down dirty and sweet until you’re gagging…every single hole filled right up, nice and full.”

You tighten like a fist around your fingers and his dick as it jerks and throbs inside you. “Please..”

“Please, what?” His grip curls into a fist against your scalp.

“Cum..” you barely make a sound, but he hears you all the same.

“Yeah? Would that get my girl off? If I came right here?” He slides in as deeply as he can. “You want it where you shouldn’t?”

“I want to feel it first,” you’re begging like a whore, and he couldn’t love it more. “And I’m so close, please…”

He couldn’t stop it for anything in the world. Not now, not after listening to you confess that you want to feel him, warm and wet, inside you, before you cum.

When he lets go, it’s with an animalistic growl that flips your stomach…a dirty, addicting, tumble that makes you tremble with the insatiable need to follow straight behind him…

And you do. You follow his lead, cumming hard, crying out for him to never stop, to fuck you just like this forever, to make you feel nothing but him for the rest of your days…nothing but Jake until you draw your last breath.

Like all good and perfect things, it comes to an end, with you collapsed down into the soaked sheets, and his panting, sweating form pressing you down against the mattress.

“Fuck me, baby…” he pauses to draw in a tightened breath. “That was…god, how am I ever gonna pull out? You’re so warm and tight.”

“Stay.” You murmur, settling into the afterglow. “Just a little while.”

He nestles his face into your hair and stays, just as you’ve asked.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @dvrkblooms @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordierama @calumspretty

[tparker48]

Request for Zombie-Husky-Blog

Santa Monica was open for the summer as Diego took a trip downtown. His friends were waiting for him on the beach, sending him pictures of the waves as they crashed at the shore. "Those waves look great, wonder how big they are in person?"." He asked himself, looking out the window where a wall filled his view.

It stretched to the corner of the street, the sandy plain shining further ahead as the ocean waves battered the shore, people scattered like dots as umbrellas planted into the sand. Looks like the whole town's here, this should be fun.

He heard a groan as the driver turned to the side road, trucks blocking the way as their signals turned to a parking lot. "What the hell are trucks doing here?! Don't they know its a public road." The driver groaned. "Sorry guy, but I'm afraid I'll have to drop you off here."

"Thank you for the ride, I'll take it from here."  Diego said, opening the car door to step out onto the sidewalk. He waved to the driver, before moving along the white wall. The beach must be of high demand today, he'd never seen so many cars in one place, let alone trucks.

A slope ended at the corner of the wall, cars lined up along the street as they stretched to a parking lot, trucks of many sizes filling them as drivers got out.

He's not getting in that way, the waves would be gone before he even set foot there. To the right of him, Stairs connected to a crosswalk, a trolley booth resting just along the side of the sandy path. It was a couple minutes shorter, but it was better than walking down toward the public entrance. He made his way down the stairs and waited at the booth, sitting along the bench as the sandy path stretched for a mile.

He sat there and he texted on his phone, letting Hank and the others know he was just around the corner. It wouldn't be long before he could feel the warm water between his toes. 

Whistling rang from the air, a shadow blocking the sunlight from the glass window. He turned around to see a man standing above, a red cap placed on his head as a leaf logo stuck out in the front.

"Man oh man, it's hot as the desert out here. Got me working up a sweat." The man said.

Diego looked around, trying to find where he came from. "Can I help you?"

"Can you help me?" The man asked, curling his chin as he eyed him. "Well that depends in what way. You got transportation?"

"No. I'm waiting for the bus."

"Well I guess that answers my question, I was taking the bus myself."

"I see.." Diego said, smiling nervously as he looked at his phone. He wasn't in the mood for small talk, the sooner the bus came, the sooner he could hang out with his friends.

The man shifted as he moved toward the bench. Sitting down, the end of the metal board caved as Diego went airborne, landing on the man's round gut. "Sorry bout' that," He chuckled. "I don't seem to know my own weight nowadays."

Diego stammered as he retreated back to the bench, the damp sweat coating the man's tank top soaking into his clothes. The heck's up with this guy? "Hehe..right. Well you can have the seat, I can just-"

The bench rocked before tilting upward, Diego cushioning against the man as a meaty arm wrapped at his shoulder.

"Aw, don't give up your seat for little old me. The name's Rago, I'm a visitor in this here parts."

"Diego.." He grunted. "As much as I enjoy getting hugs, Rago, I would very much like to not be this close."

"Oh I think you and I are going to be more acquainted. I haven't eaten at all since I got off the truck, and you seem like a decent little treat."

Diego blinked upon the statement. "Hehehe..you mean the food at the beach right?"

"No.." Rago said, the hand along his shoulder pulling him close. "I mean you. I've been looking for potential preys, but the lot here are way too big to swallow. But you, I'd say you're the perfect size. At least with a few adjustments."

Diego felt his heart start to race, tugging the other way to release himself from Rago's grasp. Pulled closer, he felt a rumble as it vibrated his side, looking to Rago's stomach before looking up to his face.

"Purr's nice doesn't it? Just wait until you see the inside, it's gonna be-"

Diego elbowed Rago's side, a grunt escaping from him before he jumped off the bench. "Fuck the bus! You're talking way too much crazy for me to just sit here!" He yelled. Walking as he looked at the distant people along the shoreline.

"No problem, you go ahead and enjoy your time at the beach." Rago said. "It'll make for a good last experience before you're inside me." 

Diego  walked faster, turning into a sprint as he ran for the beach. He's gotta get away from this mad man. There's now way he's serious about eating him. But it didn't matter, the threat alone was enough to keep him running, adrenaline filling his legs to carry him to the far destination.

A mile away from the bus top, Diego stopped as he relaxed along the entrance of the building, sluggishly walking inside while he stopped to take a breath. He lost him, hopefully that was the last time he saw him.

A palm struck along his shoulder, startling him as he turned around. It was Hank, along with the others as they held their boards. "There you are man, We've been waiting for ya all day." Hank said.

"Sorry, had a bit of an issue while waiting for the bus."

"Huh, well certainly picked the time to take it, the sun's getting pretty hot out there" one of his friends said.

"But it's making the waves bigger!" the other chimed in.

He almost forgot about the waves, perhaps that would set his mind straight. "Well what are we waiting for , let's get surfing!" 

Hank and the others cheered among themselves, grabbing their boards before they went toward the water. Diego followed along, looking back to the entrance and toward the long pathway. Snap out of it, he wouldn't try anything in a crowd like this. Just relax, and have fun at the beach. Taking a breath, he moved forward as he grabbed his board, letting the hot sand between his toes draw his attention as he went to the ocean.

Waves washed in from the distance, Diego paddling toward them as the watery hill began to rise. He turned his board toward the beach, getting to his feet as the waves began to crust. He bent his knees as a funnel formed overhead.  The water turned navy blue as the sides turned brighter against the sun's glow, sparkling as they trickled to the rest of the body of water.

"That's what I'm talking about!" He shouted, placing a hand into the warm water as he moved out of the tunnel, and looked back to the others. Hank swayed on his board from a wave just near the shore, the other two surfing on another further out as they waved to him. "Looks like they're catching some good waves over there. I think I'll join them and-"

Whistling pierced the air, Diego'sbody freezing as he turned toward the shore. Crowds scattered along the beach, Swimmers splashing in the water while others relaxed beneath their umbrellas. Scanning the shoreline, a familiar face looked his way as he waved. He pointed at him before a hand reached for his gut, messaging over it slowly as he licked his lips.

Diego's heart started to pace, his breath heightening as his eyes never left their sight. "He's here?.." He muttered.

"Diego!" Hank yelled.

He turned around toward him. To the right, a wall of water rushed toward him, snapping him out of his trance as he slapped at the water to move, but was swept by its flow. He flew to the top of the crust, slamming into the water as he spun in place. When the water's strength loosened, he dragged his feet along shallow water, gasping as he got to the surface. He looked toward the shoreline for the man, eying the gap between the umbrellas where he saw him, but found nothing. "Where..where did?.."

"Diego!" Hank called for him, parking his board before he walked to him. "Are ypu alright? You hit that wave pretty hard?"

"Yeah..yeah I'm fine." He replied, making his way out the water. "Just a little light headed is all." 

**********************************************

Hank brought Diego over to one of the lounging chairs, adjusting the umbrella above while he got settled. "You should be fine here bud, We'll get you some more towels to dry you off."

They went off towards the storage room, disappearing intonthe locker room before crowds swarmed his view. Diego remained in the chair, head to the sky as his mind raced. He's somewhere around the beach, how the hell did he find me? He turned to the left and looked at the passing crowd, looking to their heads for the of his pursuer.

His eyes stung from the sun, clutching the umbrella as he moved it overhead. "Ugh this sun isn't helping one bit."

"Diego?" A waiter called, moving from chair to chair as they asked people sitting down. "Diego?"

"Yes? May I help you?" He asked.

"Ah, there you are. We have your order for you" the waiter lowered to Diego's side, placing a tray of a Cheeseburger with a drink and a frie.

"But I didn't order anything."

"It was a special request from someone you is what they wanted me to tell you." She said. "He also said to give you this note."

Diego was hesitant to reach for it. But he grabbed it and opened. "You took quite the wipeout out there, sweet dessert." It read. "Don't go passing out before I get to eat you. Treat yourself to some food on me, it's the least I can do before you're swimming in mine. Heart: Rago.

Diego's palm shook, dropping the note into the sand. He placed the tray into the waiters lap before he ran across the shoreline. She called to him, but her voice softened as he darted into the crowd. Umbrellas knocked into his body, the sand beneath him sinking as he nearly tripped into others. But he readjusted when he got to the wooden platform of the Beach, Restaurants and booths scattered around as he rides were active deeper within.

He has to find Hank and the others, before Rago gets to him first. But where does he go?

A figure brushed behind him, his body jolting as he swung at it. "Woah hey!" A man said, ducking beneath his stretch. "What where you're hitting!"

Diego reconciled, apologizing before he ran further into the area. His head started to hurt again, holding a hand to the air as he moved into shade. "This sun's getting on my nerves. How am I supposed to find Hank if I can't even think straight."

Whistling pierced through the air, carried by the wind as the rides followed it.

Diego looked behind to the alley way, but nothing was there. Where's it coming from? Is he in one of the buildings? Or in the walls?

 The whistles grew louder, heavy steps clicking toward him. In a panic, he ran deeper into the Alley way, scanning the windows for any sign of movement. He saw a shadow from.the corner of his eye, but didn't look back as he turned he ran.

He tripped around the corner, noticing a bathroom to his left as he darted inside. Closing the door, he catched his breath, clenching his chest to urge his heart to stop beating. 

Whistling returned, steps growing louder before a shadow casted beneath the door frame.

Diego held his breath, covering his mouth as he listened to the steps click past. When they grew softer, he held it for a bit longer, slowly lowering his hand before silence followed. Was..was he gone? He leaned off the door, his hand pulling out his phone to text Hank a message.

The door kicked open, knocking Diego to the ground as he slid to the far wall.

Rago laughed as he filled the frame. "Did you think the little bathroom trick would work? Sorry little treat, but prey before you have already tried that." He said. "And failed doing so."

Diego massaged at his back, getting to his knees as he eyed Rago. He leapt forward toward the door, using the wall to push himself between his legs. 

A snag dragged on his ankle, a fist clenching at it before his body hoisted off the ground, and Rago's gut filled the view.

"Oh no, you're not getting out that way." Rago chuckled, closing the door before locking it.

Diego dangled as Rago walked to the walls, the cold tile meeting his back. "What do you want from me?!"

Rago smirked, leaning forward as the gut smothered into his face. Its surface was like dough, his flesh molding his face deep as musky skin coated his nostrils. "I already told you what I want. You, nice and tucked inside my gut. Ooo, I can hardly wait to feel you kicking in there."

Rago's weight shifted as the wall leaned closer, his bubbled flesh covering Diego's nose before covering over his mouth. He placed a palm along the side of the belly, hoisting the thick muscle off, but barely as it bumped to the side of his face.   "You expect me to believe I'm going there! Your mouth's barely big enough to fit my head in, let alone my shoulders!"

"You're right, it would be difficult to swallow you as you are. Fortunately, I have the perfect solution to that.." He paused for a moment, clenching his fist as a numbing sensation traveled through Diego.

It quickly expanded, racing up his body like electricity before warmth replaced it. Rago's gut seemed to be growing bigger, its round form climbing over his face like a balloon. But the bathroom was getting wider too, the ceiling zooming out before more flesh replaced it. Rago wasn't getting bigger, he was getting smaller!

The sensation quickened, Diego’s size taken away with each pulse that traveled through his body. He became smaller as his head fell into the funnel of the belly button, Rago's palm flattening as the rest of his body was encased within its flap. The flesh was as tight as a truck tire, Gurgles lingering deep inside.

"Much better." Rago said, a sense of smugness added behind it. His belly moved from the walls, compacting against Diego as it gummed at his body. "Aww look at that, my belly button’s chewing on it’s snack. I should take a picture."

A finger prodded at his back, swirling around his body like a brush against wet paint before he smothered him deeper. Receding, fingers plucked at Diego’s leg as he was brought up to Rago's face. This must be a dream, it has to be!

His tongue drawed out,  a smirk drawing from the corner of his face as he wet his lips. His maw opened heavily, a heated fog flowing into Diego as the large tongue greeted him with a lick. It was warm, slimy as it dragged across his torso.

 There was no doubt about it, this wasn't a dream at all, but rather, a nightmare.

Another lick struck his torso, dragging him slowly from the back of the tongue before the tip flicked at his head. Rago huffed as he suckled on his tongue, swallowing before he hovered Diego over head. "Any last words, sweet dessert?"

Diego's mind began to race, gazing at the abyss inside the massive cavern. He was about to be eaten, by the hands of some stranger he just met. When the fingers shook at his body, he reacted as he pounded at the thick digits. "Let me go!"

Rago’s smirk grew wider, a chuckle escaping from him. "Very poor choice of words."

 Rago's fingers let go, Diego now airborne as he fell front first along the tongue. It was like a slide, hastening him down with quick speed. He tried to cling to it, but saliva coating it made his fingers tip too slick to gain friction. When the gullet approached, he reached for the dangling uvula above, clinging to it for dear life.

The tongue rose, raking him off with a swipe as he yelled for help.

Glrrk!

**********************************************

Rago stood in the middle of the bathroom, focusing on Diego sliding into his gullet like a grape. "Not too bad, Diego, you taste pretty good." He commented.

He took slow gulps as his throat jiggled rhythmically, a small lump extruding from the middle of his neck before it descended into his collar bone. Wriggling came from his stomach, swirling around walls like a fish in a bowl before a breath compressed it. He stood pridefully as he gazed at his stomach, little hills of flesh nudging outward, but were buried too quickly. "Hmph, I go out of my way to shrink you and you can;t even make a bulge at that size. That's not gonna fly.."

He arched his fingers into a circle, widening its gap as movement stirred inside. His stomach expanded an inch, swelling as he watched its round edge  push out from beneath his chest. Muffles started to form, a faint outline of a hand bulging out from his gut, a small face poking out from it before Rago smothered it with a palm.

“There, now I can hear ya loud and clear." He smiled, rubbing his belly in firm strokes, sloshing resonating inside as Diego shouted. A ring suddenly sounded through the room, a shining light below where a phone stuck out from the sink. "What have we here?"

He picked up the phone and looked at the screen, already unlocked as a text appeared below. "Where are you man? We can't find you at the chairs." It read.

"So you have some friend's." He said, his smile returning. "Well this just got interesting. I've got some time to kill before I depart, so let's say we pay them a visit." 

He opened the door and left for the beach, taking Diego's phone as he texted Hank back. 

It was gonna be a while before he was scheduled to leave, so he decided to take a tour of the place and grab some food. He sat down at a burger restaurant as he sat in one of the booths. It was a tight squeeze to get through the thin gap, but snug enough to let him enjoy the company of his now captured prey. 

"Hello sir, what would you.." The waiter paused as they looked at his belly, Rago looking down himself as a palm pushed out from his belly. 

“Pay no mind to that. It's just a tattoo I got there" he winked. “I'd like a triple cheese burger with a large shake, make it thicc for me."

The waiter pondered to themselves as they held their pen, writing down his orders before they moved away.

"I made you a promise didn't I? I said I was gonna have you swimming in the food you ate. Since you discarded your own, I don't mind sharing mine."

A bell rang from the door, three guys entering as one of them looked at their phone, their gaze meeting Rago's as they approached. So these must be Diego's friends. Scrawny bunch, wouldn't be good for tooth picks.

"Are you Rago?" Henry asked.

"The one and only.." he tipped his cap. "And you must be Diego's friends. Hank wasn’t it?"

"You said you found Diego’s phone in the bathroom, where did he go?"

Stirring moved from his gut, Rago playing it off as he placed his arm on top of it. "I don't know, I only saw him enter. But I can help you find him. I saw where he went."

"Where?"

"We'll get to that. But first.." He extended a hand to the air, the waiter gave him a tray and he brought his food to the table. "Papa needs some grub. Think you can spot me?"

Hank eyed him upon the request, but agreed as he handed the waiter the money.

He smiled at the gesture, extending a hand towards the opposite side of the booth, Hank obliged as the others sat down with him. "Your friend seemed to be running from someone, he ran past me when he went to the bathroom." Rago said.

"Who?"

Rago paused as he picked up his burger, biting it to the middle before he pulled back to chew. With a heavy swallow, it moved at a snail's pace as it traveled to his stomach, upsetting Diego as he mushed around the meaty contents.. "It was someone big, and very good looking I must say. But I Didn't get much else." He sipped at his shake, slouching back as his gut compressed into the table. "All I know is that he was in a hurry to get away. And with that-"

His stomach jolted forward, sliding the booth table toward Diego's friend. Pinching his fingers, he leaned forward as he pulled the table back, and his belly shrunk. "Sorry about that, been having hiccups since a snack earlier." 

"Listen, I get that you want to dine first, but we have a friend we have to find. Now if you know where he is, please tell us so we can help him."

Quick and to the point, this'll be interesting. Rago chuckled before he got up from his chair, stuffing the rest of his burger into his mouth before he grabbed his shake. "Alrat, then we batta na was ma time" he garbled, swallowing the last of his burger. "It'll kill some time before I leave town." 

He ushered them to follow as he exited the Restaurant. Taking off to the far alley where he ate-..found Diego.

He took them toward the bathroom, recently used as the door held open. He told them that there was a tussle inside, but he didn't get to see who. It happened so fast, that by the time he got there, all.that was left was the phone.  Taking them toward the beach, he guided them back to his seat and told him when he started to run. But it appears that wasn't enough to convince Hank.

"This doesn't make any sense, Diego said he saw someone big and heavy, and all the descriptions you gave us have been off."

He was perceptive, he'll give them that. "I swear to you, those are all the places I remember him going. On my life as A truck driver."

"That's  good enough!" Hank yelled. His fist shaking as his breath grew heavy. Another friend approached, placing a palm along his shoulder as he calmed down. "S-sorry..I just want to know where he is."

Rago struggled to hold back as Diego stirred within, if only he knew just how close he was, Hidden away by his fat. "Listen, I get what you're saying, but those are all the places I know he went. But if it makes you feel any better, I'll radio some fellow truckers to see if they'll find him."

"That..would be helpful. Thank you Rago."

He held back his grin, wiping at the side of his face. "Sure."

He made his way to the staircase along the side of the beach, trucks parked along the walls as they faced the street. Rago went toward a red one that sat beneath a tree, opening the driver's side as he got in. He fiddled with the radio, messing with the knob as static rang through the truck before he looked at Hank and the others below. 

"Sorry I couldn't help much in finding your friend, the old noggin' doesn't work like they used to."

"We're sure we'll find him. We just gotta keep looking."

Yeah.."  Rago said, turning the ignition on. "You know, now that I think of it, there is one place we haven't checked for him." Rago said.

“Really? Where?”

He pointed at his chest as he hunched over the edge of the window, Gagging as he heaved at his stomach. Hank stared as he and the other two stepped back, cautious in case he threw up. But Rago only smirked, the awaiting lump in his throat returning before it pushed into his mouth. "Aaah!" He opened his mouth, chewed bits of burger scattered upon the tip of his tongue.  And on top, would be Diego, covered in melted ice cream as it spilled over his back.

"Diego?" Hank's eyes widened.

"Hank! Hank, you have to help me! Don't let him-" Diego's voice was cut off, the food covered tongue splatting against him as it reeled back into his mouth. Rago tilted his head back, an outline of Diego gliding along his neck, before he disappeared into his body.

Rago belched, pounding at his chest. “Man that hit the spot. He's almost as spicy as that burger." He chuckled, leaning into his seats as he pulled the lever on the wheel. "Thanks for paying the food boys." He waves to them, rolling up the window before the truck departed.

He looked in the corner mirror to them, their shocked expression froze on their face before they disappeared behind the butt of the truck. "Your friends were almost as gullible as you are Diego." Rago commented, widening his finger as his stomach grew.

A hand extended out from his gut, pushing as hard as it can as if it tempted to pop it. "Hank! guys!"

"Your friends won't help you here. They're still back in the parking lot. It's just you and me now, little treat." Rago said.

Diego muffled from inside his prison, his gut dancing as bulges ringed around it. Rago only moaned, hugging at his gut with an arm as he heaved it close. "Don't worry, you may not be seeing them again, but you're gonna meet a lot more on the road. Chicken, green peas, and of course good old mash potatoes.” he chuckled. “They're even close by, just within the mile."

"You can't keep me in here!"

"Of course I can." Rago soothed through voice, his stomach rebounding as he let go of it. "After all, you're part of my belly now."

He pressed his foot on the gas, the truck purring before the wheels began to squeak. And so he went on about his day along the road, his mouth watering for more food to eat as food raced on his mind. But it was nothing compared to his now permanent guest, safe and tucked in his stomach to aid in his boredom.

[chantylay]

Keep the pressure on the EBU to ban Israel from Eurovision!

The EBU's contact page is here: https://www.ebu.ch/about/contact-us

The Irish Broadcaster's is here: https://about.rte.ie/contact/contact-details/

And Irish representative Bambie Thug has already spoken in support of Palestine, but tempered their statement by saying the EBU decides. Show them they have our support for demanding action from the EBU: https://hausofthug.com/contact

Content warning for the video below: If you keep watching to the panel reaction, several members misgender Bambie Thug who is a nonbinary performer.

If you have ever seen those posts about how you have to actually listen to goth music to count yourself as goth and wondered "but what is goth music," then I present exhibit A: Ireland's Eurovision 2024 representative Bambie Thug and their song "Doomsday Blue."

On the music side, it's an eclectic mix of industrial rock and more pop-adjacent sounds. The transitions can be abrupt, but it works best that way, keeping the listener on their toes and contributing to the sense of chaos evoked by the titular doom.

The lyrics cast a spell on an ex that the character is clearly not over. The Harry Potter reference at the beginning if each verse would be tacky, but the artist is trans so they are allowed. I hope Rowling seethes over it.

The Late Late Show is not the best equipped show for a big staging concept. We have what are likely to be some of the main lighting cues. The choreography may need to be adjusted as the stage in Malmo is in the round, but I suspect the final version will have much of the same flavor. The shadow demon backup dancers are great. With the bigger stage, we might get more of them. I also suspect the final costume will be crazier. The Irish voting public has been known to be a bit conservative, and I think they chose their costume based on not being too out there... yet.

[meandering-mind]

Akhutai | SMASH OR PASS?

Rules: pretty self explanatory. include physical descriptions or pics, and propaganda. the “other” label can be used for “sexuality misalignment” (ie: oc is femme and you’re gay, vice versa or you aren’t into smashing but a specific thing you wanna do with them like perhaps hug or study them under a microscope idc). Vote in the poll at the bottom of the post!

QUICK FACTS

Height: 215 cm / 7ft

Age: 40-ish

Gender: Cis Male

Sexuality: Bisexual - Poly.

PROS

He is the definition of scary dog privilege, you will not be bothered, anywhere - ever.

He can reach the highest shelf for you

His home is open for you to come and go as you please

Great source of feeling safe

He does have a soft side, somewhere, deep inside. Once found, it is pleasant to be around. Or maybe that's just a rumor.

He will be your rock, reliable and sturdy.

He can just carry you around if you get tired (in most cases)

CONS

If you make an early move, there's a high probability that he'll turn the situation into a fight. He does not always take well to obvious and overt flirting.

He will never love you more or as much as his late wife, he has "sad time of year" syndrome.

He will prioritize his son higher than you.

Getting him to verbalize commitment is difficult, as is public displays of affection.

OTHER DETAILS

He keeps his tail & horns sharp and actively uses them as both weapons and for assisting every day tasks.

He has adjusted well to the comforts of Eorzean life and likes to spend his hard earned gil on making life more enjoyable. You'll find that elements such as his bed and the food he eats is of a high quality.

He rarely fights just for the heck of it, opting instead to conserve his strength and energy for his work. No one wants to hire a bodyguard that shows up with bruises and bent ribs.

He has a slight accent when speaking Eorzean.

SEXUALLY

Akhutai is a dominant/top type, though it does not always mean that he's going to throw you over every fuck-against-able surface in the room. He will match the energy of those he's with and can just as well be gentle. He appreciates a round under the moonlight on the beach as much as a quick shuffle around in a supply closet.

ROMANTICALLY

If he is romantically interested in you, he may not verbalize it - but there would be signs. He communicates his adoration though acts of service, physical touch and even what he'd dismiss as romantic bullshit if ever quizzed on the subject.

[1997thebracket]

Round 1B

Deftones' Around the Fur: I think God is moving its tongue, there's no crowds in the street and no sun. Around the Fur is the sophomore studio album from American alternative metal band Deftones, although the expected dressings of the genre would not always stick. The band did not so much enter the scene with their first record as they kicked the doorman in the teeth and brought the scene out into the alleyway with them. Around the Fur, which produced the singles My Own Summer (Shove It) and Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away), does not dial down the aggression of the band's first outing, but centers it more thematically and strikes back against the newly-forming barriers of metal subgenres to encompass nu-metal, post-hardcore, and alternative rock in one. As guitarist Stephen Carpenter reflected on the band's sound, "We didn't make a decision (…) it was just metal." The record was recognized by fans, but not necessarily by the public or critics right away; it took two years to become certified Gold, and fourteen to become certified Platinum in the United States. One critic would write, twenty years after its initial release, "You know that even when (vocalist) Chino Moreno is saying nothing, he’s saying something, venomous words tripping over themselves as they surge from between his lips. And you won’t hear a better vocal performance all year, as the whispering, shrieking Chino takes you on a rollercoaster ride in and out of his personal hell."

Deep Blue Defeats World Chess Champion: The development of artificial intelligence didn't have to be a portent of neverending artistic infringement to come-- it could've been about computers pantsing nerds! Deep Blue was a chess-playing expert system run on a unique purpose-built IBM supercomputer, aka the Big Chess Computer. Originally developed under the name ChipTest by Carnegie Mellon University, IBM would rename our tall, dark and quiet friend Deep Thought, and then eventually Deep Blue. The computer would play against World Chess Champion Garry Kasparov several times between 1989 and 1996, and with each loss the program's understanding of the game's intricacies was adjusted, expanded, and improved. In 1997, Deep Blue would rock the world by defeating Kasparov in a six-game matchup, winning twice and drawing three times, rendering the final game null. The version that defeated Kasparov boasted double the processing speed as its predecessor, and typically searched to a depth of six to eight moves, even surpassing twenty moves in isolated situations. This victory, as niche as it may seem, is a milestone in the history of artificial intelligence. Sadly, our boy Blue was dismantled after fulfilling his destiny; one of the two racks that made up Deep Blue is held by the National Museum of American History while the other rack was acquired by the Computer History Museum.

[welldonebeca]

Apex Predator (I)

Summary: Ajak tells Ikaris it is in Arishem’s plans to make their team more than just a group or a family, but a pack. As their Alpha, it is their place to guide his Omegas. Aka: Alpha Ikaris fucks every woman in the group (except for Sprite). Warnings: Prey play. Semi-public sex. Smut. Dirty talking. Alpha/Omega. Rough sex. WC: 1.5k words Pairing: Ikaris x Sersi

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

Ikaris measured his movements, floating above the ground to keep himself from making any noise.

Sersi was in a playful mood today. One minute, they were kissing on the side of the mountain and the next she used her powers to slide away and fuse Ikaris’ feet into the rock.

He easily freed himself, but now he had a giggly Omega to look for

It was a strangely entertaining foreplay, chasing his Omega when she wanted to play.

But it was adorable.

She was always adorable.

He stopped when he heard some pebbles, and backed away a little.

"Sersi!” he called around, trying to appease her. “If you come out now, I won't punish you too bad."

It was a lie, but she didn’t need to know.

His eyes caught a gush of black hair, and he raced towards it, running on his feet a nearly slamming against a rock when it formed right in front of him.

"Sersi!" he growled, easily going over it.

"It wouldn't be fun if I made it easy," she teased him in giggles, still a good distance away.

He tried to act mad, but hearing her laugh just made him smile.

Still, he made a flight dash towards her, but his lover was smart - and a little dumb too - jumping off the mountainside to escape his grasp

Ikaris gasped, and quickly manoeuvred his direction down to catch her before she met the ground, grabbing Sersi mid-air, and she giggled as she grabbed his shoulders.

“Are you insane, woman?” he squeezed her close to him. “You could have hurt yourself!”

He landed at a safer place, and she put her feet on the ground, smiling at him.

"I knew you would catch me, love,"

Ikaris sighed. That woman would be the death of him.

"Now that you’ve caught me, almighty eternal, what will you do with me?" she purred, moving her fingers over the details of his armour.

He was still in it, looking like what his Omega called ‘mighty eternal’, but Sersi had adhered to the fashions of these lands, looking beautiful in her flowy green dress, with nothing underneath.

Ikaris leant against the rock, looking at her from head to toe.

“First I have to punish you for running,” he remarked, licking his lips.

She slithered in his direction, slowly and teasingly.

“And how do you plan to do that?”

Ikaris grabbed her and turned her around, bending Sersi forward, flipping her dress up and exposing her round ass.

It was her favourite punishment, his hand smacking her pretty butt. It always made her wonderfully wet and needy.

When he descended his hand on her ass, slapping her meaty skin, she gasped loudly and moaned right after.

“Hold steady,” he instructed, adjusting her hips when she tried to run from his smacks. “We don’t want you to fall again.”

“You shouldn’t smack so hard, then,” she pouted, throwing him a cheeky look over her shoulder.

Ikaris rolled his eyes, sending two harsh smacks in succession against her ass, and she yelped.

“Stop running from it, naughty omega,” he growled, holding her hips in place with his free hand.

She pouted.

“Oh, I am?” she cooed. “What should you do about it, Alpha?”

Sersi was always so curious about humans and their cultures, including their gender-specific roles. Ikaris didn’t really care, it meant no difference to him, especially considering the Eternals were all cut from the same cloth anyway. Alphas, Omegas, Betas… it only made any difference for humans.

But Sersi was fascinated, and as they experimented more with their dynamic, it turned out Ikaris liked controlling and Sersi loved being controlled.

A prime Alpha and Omega pair, some may say.

He pulled her up against his chest, and wrapped his hand around her neck, keeping her in place as he put his lips against her ear.

“I’ll be forced to fuck that attitude out of you,” he promised.

Oh, how she would love that.

She moaned loudly at that promise and Ikaris changed her posture, turning her to the side, and ripped her dress, still holding her by the neck as he continued to spank her, lips glued to her ear as he finally managed to keep her in place.

“I know you’d love that, for me to fuck you until you can’t stand,” he slapped her more, the sound of his skin against hers echoing through the empty air. “Walking around dazed after my knot spread you out good, dripping with my cum.”

“Yes,” she moaned. “A god’s seed inside of me.”

Ikaris hummed along. Sersi was very aware of how human women looked at him, wanting such a strong Alpha to fill them and even wanting him to do it - to fuck them, fill them with his seed.

Too bad he already belonged to another.

“Do you deserve it, though, little omega?” he bit her earlobe. “My giant cock stuffed inside your little pussy?”

He slapped her one last time and took his hand to her cunt, touching her drenched folds.

“Please,” she whimpered. “Ikaris. Alpha, please-”

What if he…

“Please,” she whined again. “Al-”

Halfway through her word, he smacked her cunt with a big hand, and Sersi yelped.

“Ikaris!”

He stopped, frozen, fearing he might have hurt her, but Sersi just moaned and pressed her hips further out in display, trying to rub herself on his hand, and he smacked her again, feeling her wetness covering his hand a little.

“Like this?” he hissed into her ear.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Please, again. More.”

He slapped her cunt more and more, getting his fingers covered in her slick.

Ikaris wanted to keep smacking her cunt, maybe even see her cum, but his desires were too great, so he undid part of his suit, letting his hard cock and balls out.

He could’ve easily removed his suit, but he liked to keep it partially on. It made him feel more like a powerful eternal, like… an Alpha, maybe.

He turned her around, and she raised her ass to rub against him, and Ikaris lifted her up, holding her body up with a hand around her waist while keeping a firm grasp around her neck.

“Feel how ready my cock is for you, omega?” he asked, rubbing himself against her slit.

He was so big compared to her.

Ikaris remembered being afraid on their first time together, thinking he was going to split her in her half, but it was like Arishem had made her just for him.

She tried to move, to catch his cock, but Ikaris squeezed her neck in a warning.

“You’ll get it once I decide,” he warned her. “Or maybe I’ll just cum on your body and leave you here. If you don’t behave, I might.”

She whined, but stopped.

Still, she spread her legs, and he rubbed his cock against her wet cunt, taking some of her slick before finally sliding inside her, and she gasped.

“Ikaris,” she whined.

She was so wet, so damn welcoming.

“So tight, Omega,” he hissed into her ear. “So open for my cock.”

Ikaris slowly sunk into her, and both sighed when he finally filled her up.

A perfect union, as always.

“Please,” she whined, cunt squeezing his cock tightly.

He quickly moved to thrust into her as she dug her nails into his arms, moaning and crying softly.

"I want your knot," she moaned.

Oh, and why would he deny her that?

"You do, uh?" he felt his knot starting to swell. "Want me to fill you up with my seed and make sure nothing gets out? So your body has no choice but to let me breed you."

Sersi cried out, cunt fluttering around his cock as she came, just from having him inside her.

He growled at the tight squeeze, and turned her face with the hand he had on her neck, kissing her deeply, and she moved her hand back to caress his hair, moaning into his lips.

He could feel himself getting close, with his knot already struggling to move out of her cunt.

"I love you, Sersi," he panted into her lips.

"I love you too, Ikaris," she moaned.

He moaned as he locked himself inside her, spilling his seed as he held her tight.

They held each other closely, and she took his hand to kiss, gentle and affectionate as he held her close.

"I wish it was possible," Sersi whispered.

Ikaris sighed and kissed her cheek, and felt her tears touching his skin right over his skin and he did.

"We only need each other," he reminded her. "We only need each other. It's Arishem's will."

She didn't say anything, but he could feel her sadness, and the two stood together until his knot deflated, and the two started to redress and head back home.

He was just helping her look presentable when he let his gaze fall around the place, and Ikaris froze when his eyes connected with Ajak's. She was standing on the bottom of the cliff, watching them.

How long had she been there? Had she seen everything?

"I don't think there is any chance of saving this dress, Ikaris," Sersi giggled, getting his eyes back on her. "I'll just put on my suit."

He tried to smile at her, and looked back at Ajak, but she was already gone.

"Something wrong, love?" Sersi asked.

Ikaris let his eyes linger for a moment, but cleared his throat and stood straighter.

"No," he lied, at last. "It's nothing."

. . .

“Apex Predator” was posted on my Patreon back in September! To read it now and have early access to my stories, consider subscribing! It’s just $2 a month, and it helps me a lot to go through these hard times.

…

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[mariacallous]

After a rocky start in 2021, U.S.-European relations have since gone from strength to strength, largely thanks to the unifying effects of Russia’s war against Ukraine. In recent months, however, this key partnership has been rocked by what is viewed in Europe as a resurgence of the “America First” economic policies that so bedeviled relations during the Trump administration.

Europe’s collective ire is directed toward U.S. President Joe Biden’s massive suite of inward investment policies—specifically, the American Rescue Plan Act, the Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act, the CHIPS and Science Act, and the Inflation Reduction Act (IRA). Together, these programs, which provide generous investment in infrastructure, green subsidies, and related tax breaks, threaten to lure foreign investment from Europe to the United States.

While this has been welcome news to many green energy advocates in the United States and elsewhere, it has caused increasingly public rifts with Europe. Critics believe the Biden administration’s inward investments constitute a new protectionism, one designed to place the United States first and everyone else a distant second. At the Davos World Economic Forum annual meeting in January, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen declared that “competition on net zero must be based on a level playing field,” and specifically raised concerns about both the United States’ green policy suite and China’s subsidy and restrictive market practices.

After some internal hand-wringing over whether the goal should be to get the Biden administration to back down or instead to keep pace with U.S. initiative, Europe has begun to marshal a tit-for-tat response to challenge and counter U.S. policy efforts with its proposed Green Deal Industrial Plan. This resurgence of economic nationalism within the transatlantic relationship is what has economists such as Adam Tooze so concerned about the IRA.

If the prevailing analyses of European security experts and international economists are anything to go by, the United States and Europe appear to be heading toward yet another round of transatlantic tensions with this latest rift over green investment. But a closer examination suggests there is a real opportunity to turn this rather conventional spat into an alliance-building effort that benefits overlooked peoples and places on both side of the Atlantic.

Collectively worth some $3.8 trillion, the United States’ “doubly remarkable” plans stand out not only for the eye-watering amount of investment, but also the way in which the funds are to be invested. The funds from these plans are to be spent largely on direct investments to underdeveloped areas, as part of a “just transition” to new green technologies and industries. The IRA, for example, targets spending on communities that have been historically disproportionately affected by pollution, as well as those whose workforce would benefit from inclusion in the growing green sector of the economy, such as those with high fossil fuel employment or those with higher than average unemployment rates. As U.S. Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen said in Dearborn, Michigan, “We expect to see dollars catalyze innovative investments across cities and towns that haven’t seen such investment in years.”

The work of revitalizing the long-struggling heartland industrial regions isn’t just a U.S. project, though; rather, it’s of vital importance on both sides of the Atlantic.

As the United States makes unprecedented investments in its industrial heartland, the U.K. government has pursued its own agenda to “level up” the country’s left-behind regions. The European Union has acted similarly, seeking to improve its regional structural adjustment and cohesion policies, whose main task is to support the economic well-being of regions whose development is lagging behind. The OECD is also developing road maps and inventories on successful regional transformations to inform policy decisions in this area.

Policymakers in both Europe and North America have come to understand that, in the words of economic geography professor Andrés Rodríguez-Pose, the “revenge of the places that don’t matter” has political consequences—not just locally, but for their countries’ domestic political institutions, international relations, and place in the global economy. By supporting firms, university spinouts, and new industries in heartland areas through the IRA and related programs, the United States believes it can help rebuild local economies and possibly reduce the likelihood of political disaffection. This in turn will make the United States a better partner in the global economy and the institutions that govern it. Much the same could be said about government programs to assist post-industrial communities in France, Italy, the United Kingdom, Hungary, or Poland.

As such, debates over whether the IRA constitutes a new protectionism obscure a vital point: The economic revival of left-behind places is not a zero-sum game among allied nations. Neither is the commitment to developing new green industries and the supply chains and jobs that come with them. There is a path forward whereby the collective of democracies gets stronger both economically and politically by building new industries in underperforming regions and by working together as partners with shared democratic values. To succeed in revitalizing the industrial heartlands, the United States and Europe cannot work on the problem alone and at the expense of the other. Rather, a cooperative, transatlantic approach is essential for long-term success.

The goal here for the United States and Europe should not be to outrun each other, but to become jointly independent from supply chains originating in undemocratic regimes—and, in the process, to establish the transatlantic economic leadership of the global green transition. Viewed through this lens, and not the more typical frame of zero-sum conflict and protectionism, Europe and the United States can and should work together to make this a reality. Ironically, with its tit-for-tat response to the IRA, the European Union has inadvertently taken a first step toward the completion of a transatlantic space in which green investment in heartland manufacturing regions is prioritized.

To transform existing unilateral investments into an intentional transatlantic initiative, a few things have to happen. First, both partners need to leave behind any rhetorical hint of economic nationalism, and instead frame their respective policies as part of a joint effort to meet the challenge of climate change while prioritizing the needs of the left-behind places on both sides of the Atlantic. Second, both partners need to start talking to each other about these issues. Helpfully, a suitable institutional vehicle for this cooperation already exists: the new joint U.S.-European task force, created in the aftermath of the IRA’s passage. Third, compromise will be required. For its part, the Biden administration could send a constructive signal to its partners by eliminating domestic content provisions from the IRA and other recently approved investment programs.

Once such a space becomes a reality, it allows for “ally-shoring”—expanding co-production and strengthening supply chains with countries that share common values and beliefs in an open, rules-based trade and economic global order. The approach outlined above would open the door to market-driven ally-shoring, as firms respond to the new incentives in the transatlantic green investment space. Coordinated action by the United States and the European Union could fuel this process and encourage industry players to invest across both geographies, further strengthening the bonds of U.S.-European interdependence.

The transatlantic partnership has come a long way from the depths of despair and acrimony during the Trump years. It has proved resilient and adaptive when its core security bargain was called into question by Russian aggression. Yet the current fallout over the Biden administration’s industrial policy initiatives underscores the recurring fragility of consensus over the economic dimensions of the partnership. In every crisis, however, there is opportunity. If parties can work together and adopt a different framing, one that prioritizes common interest over competition, the conflict over the IRA could be transformed from a disturbing slide toward economic nationalism into a confident step toward a stronger alliance and greener, more equitable future for citizens on both sides of the Atlantic

[the-hem]

What is the Current Number?

Ha Shem requires 600,000 Jewish souls in the world at all times.

"For every one of the 600,000 explanations there is one Jewish soul, and in the Time-to-Come each will know Torah according to the explanation that corresponds to the root of his soul. In the Garden of Eden, after a person has died he will understand all of it."

"But don't we see a lot more Jews than six hundred thousand roaming the face of the earth?! How could there be only six hundred thousand?

The answer is that each one is like a grand tree root from which stems out many branches/souls. Thus many people in bodies share the same soul root. If you feel especially connected with certain individuals, this is a sign that you share with them a mutual source.

…and the Torah itself is the source of all Jewish souls..

Therefore there are six hundred thousand letters in the Torah (Zohar).

…the place from which they are "hewn."

Each letter is a source and channel for a soul root to evolve from. The sages view this as if a rock hewn from a mountain.

Therefore, there are 600,000 explanations on the level of "Peshat," on the level of "Remez," on the level of "Drash," and on the level of "Sod."

"Explanations" of the Instructions in the Torah take place along four axes: peshat, remez, drush and sod.

Peshat=literally.

Remez=hints and allusions, includes Gematria.

Drush/Midrash= Chochmah, Binah, Da'at.

Esoteric= resonance across the Sephirot, the Six Foundations, etc.

From this structure we see how important each individual and his Jewish thoughts are. Each of these souls has its own original, custom made connection to the four ways of learning. Therefore, no matter how much Torah has already been written, there is always place for you to come along and give the world new ideas!

Our current number, however is 2086, which means ךףו‎, "his paw" the paw of Ze'eb, the wolf! This means we are not achieving the critical number of circumcisions needed in the world at this time.

The wolf wants to hunt and consume. Whether he consumes time or provides shelter for his pack by hunting something much weaker than himself depends on the nature of the Number of the Jew.

The word kaph is Hebrew for paw, which explains how we must approaching adjusting the Number:

"The verb כפף (kapap) means to bend, bend over or be curved, or so dictionaries agree. Here at Abarim Publications we would suggest that our verb additionally means to envelop or contain, with the specific understanding that contents are contained to be extracted (rather than stored indefinitely).

Our verb refers to the application of energy (pressure or heat) upon the whole surface of a small and round thing that was designed to contain something, so that whatever exists inside the thing comes out of it.

This verb isn't used as such, but in theory it could have been applied to anything from squeezing a lemon in one's hand, to the extraction of iron from a chunk of ore.

Our verb is rare. In the Bible it occurs only five times: Psalm 57:6 speaks of a bowed-down soul, for which enemies have spread a net and dug a pit; obviously reminiscent of an extraction facility. Likewise, both Psalm 145:14 and 146:8 speak of YHWH erecting (זקף, zaqap, a very rare verb meaning to assemble or put together) the bowed-down. Isaiah 58:5 speaks of bowing one's head in generosity, and Micah 6:6 even explicitly asks: "With what shall I come to YHWH, and bow myself before the God on high?"

From this verb כפף (kapap) comes the ubiquitous noun כף (kap), which is one of two main words for the human hand. The other one, the noun יד (yad) refers mostly to one's loving touch (the look-alike verb ידד, yadad, means to love or fondle), or else the power one exerts over something or someone else; hence expressions like to lay one's hands on someone, or to fall in someone's hands.

Contrarily, our noun כף (kap) is concerned only with what it contains (or emphatically not; empty or hollow hands are often spread upward in prayer: Exodus 9:29, 1 Kings 8:38).

Our noun כף (kap) occurs about 200 times in the Old Testament, half of which denote the human hand: flat, hollow or open, but always in contexts that emphasize the hand's grabbing, holding, containing or receiving.

Our noun frequently occurs in idioms and expressions: clapping hands in applause (2 Kings 11:12) or contempt (Numbers 24:10), shake or slap hands in agreement (Proverbs 6:1), to take one's life in one's hands (Judges 12:3). Violence (חמץ, hamas) contemplated or executed remains in one's hands (Jonah 3:8, 1 Chronicles 12:17, Isaiah 59:6; Psalm 58:2 uses יד, yad).

Our noun כף (kap) often occurs together with רגל (regel), foot, not merely to describe the physical sole of the foot (Genesis 8:9, Deuteronomy 28:35) but rather the range one's "feet" could cover (contain) by walking (Deuteronomy 11:24, Joshua 1:3, 2 Kings 19:24).

Our noun כף (kap) literally means container, and particularly a container used for frequently bringing forth (rather than lengthy storage).

It thus may describe the utility vessels that were used in the tabernacle (Exodus 25:29, Numbers 4:7, 1 Kings 7:50), or the hollow pocket of a sling from which a stone comes flying (1 Samuel 25:29). Isaiah 55:12 speaks of trees clapping (or crushing or making very fat) their "hands", which isn't as big a metaphor in Hebrew as it is in English: it speaks of the trees' reproductive organs, their cones and flowers that waft their pollen abroad. Psalm 98:8 likewise speaks of the "hands" of flowing things (verb נהר, nahar, means to flow: what lamps, rivers, stars and happy clapping people do).

Most spectacular is the combination of our noun כף (kap) and the noun ירך (yarek), which describes both the male and female genitalia, and the seat of the "will" (JOHN 1:13, Genesis 3:16; hence also the term "circumcision of the heart"; Deuteronomy 30:6).

In Genesis 32:31, the angel of YHWH strikes Jacob on the כף (kap) of his ירך (yarek), which pious translators traditionally euphemize as the socket of his hip joint (which in turn leads to the fantastic dietary stipulation mentioned in Genesis 32:32, which simply does not exist anywhere in Judaism's vast canon).

But no, the angel was not concerned with Jacob's hip socket but rather with the functions performed by his genitalia (i.e. his will or desire)."

It is not enough to know the Torah, it is not enough to affix a Jewish personality on top of a soul unless the Jewish person is able to witness a transformation in the world around him as a result of his inheriting the faith.

Attaining the Number is God's Commandment that ensures the Jew is not left behind by the world, nor shall the Jew leave the world behind unchanged. Without the Number there is nothing but masturbation.

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Bitcoin community “horsepower” continues to climb, which is sweet information for its safety however dangerous information for miners who are actually going through extra competitors than ever.  Bitcoin’s hashrate hit a brand new peak on October 12 of 447 exahashes per second, in keeping with Blockchain.com.  Bitinfocharts has a barely greater common determine of 481 EH/s, however each are in settlement that it's the highest the metric has ever been.  One other all-time excessive for Bitcoin’s hash fee: pic.twitter.com/ERhI5g12Hs — Will Clemente (@WClementeIII) October 12, 2023 Stress on Miners  Hashrate has climbed 77% for the reason that starting of this 12 months and is up 170% for the reason that bull market peak in November 2021. Because of this it's now more durable than ever to mine the subsequent block on the chain. Furthermore, the subsequent difficulty adjustment in a couple of days could possibly be as excessive as +7.4%. Issue is a measure of the competitors between miners, and it is usually at an all-time excessive of 57.3T.  The web impact is a lower in mining profitability, also referred to as hashprice. Hashprice, which refers back to the anticipated worth of 1 TH/s of hashing energy per day, has fallen to $0.06 per TH/s per day.  That is down 85% for the reason that bull market peak of $0.40 per TH/s per day as mining profitability slumps.  Bitcoin miners are presently being hit with a triple whammy of excessive hash charges and issue, low asset costs, and excessive vitality prices.  Furthermore, JPMorgan predicted that hash charges would drop by 20% after the subsequent halving in late April or early Might. “Not all miners created equal. Miners fluctuate by scale, working effectivity, entry to capital and development prospects. We imagine CLSK, our high decide, presents one of the best steadiness of scale, development potential, energy prices, and relative worth. MARA is the most important operator however has the very best… pic.twitter.com/Jj3CseRI6M — S Matthew Schultz (@smatthewschultz) October 11, 2023 Earlier this week, dealer Oliver Velez identified that the US has the most important share of world hashrate at 40%. Moreover, asset administration big BlackRock has invested in a number of of the most important Bitcoin mining corporations – Riot Platforms, Marathon Digital, Cipher Mining, Hut 8, and Terawulf. It additionally lent cash to bankrupt Bitcoin miner Core Scientific in December. “It's clear that the U.S. is taking part in to win the hashrate warfare,” he stated.  The U.S. now has 40% of the #Bitcoin hash fee. Black Rock is now one of many largest house owners of publically traded ##BTC miners. It's clear that the U.S. is taking part in to win the hashrate warfare. Regardless of these numbers seeming massive, all publically traded Bitcoin miners mixed… pic.twitter.com/2LhVC3BrY1 — Oliver L. Velez ⚡️ 13%’er Bitcoiner (@olvelez007) October 11, 2023 BTC Worth Outlook  If Bitcoin costs don't enhance quickly, there could also be one other miner capitulation. The upcoming halving in round six months’ time will double the headache for miners because the block reward is halved.  It was predicted that BTC costs would want to succeed in round $90K for mining to stay worthwhile at present ranges. Nevertheless, markets are moving into the other way in the intervening time. BTC stays unchanged on the day at $26,844; nevertheless, it has misplaced 4% since final weekend.  There's stable help on the $26K degree, which could possibly be the place it's heading within the quick time period.  SPECIAL OFFER (Sponsored) Binance Free $100 (Unique): Use this link to register and obtain $100 free and 10% off charges on Binance Futures first month (terms).PrimeXBT Particular Supply: Use this link to register & enter CRYPTOPOTATO50 code to obtain as much as $7,000 in your deposits.

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Search Parcel Search Property Tax Dallas County, Ia

In some instances, a mortgage company will tax care of the property taxes or a unique settlement can be made. Be certain to work out the details, so you don’t need to pay penalties for missing a cost. In latest years, Texas has seen unbelievable growth, which has caused important property values increases and increased the necessity for important Pay Dallas County Property Taxes companies supplied by the county. As a result, many counties have additionally been forced to boost the true property taxes, which locations an rising burden on property homeowners. There are several states with higher tax rates, higher common tax payments, or both, together with California, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Vermont, and extra.

If you obtain an extra tax bill, contact your mortgage firm for more information or reach out to a knowledgeable tax lawyer. Ellis County property tax payments may be paid in one of many tax workplaces within the cities of Ennis, Midlothian, Red Oak, or the principle Dallas County Property Tax Loan office in the city of Waxahachie. Harris County, which contains Houston and the encompassing suburbs, has some of the highest property taxes not simply in Texas, however in the complete country.

Coming it at No. 13 is the Austin-Round Rock MSA with an effective property tax price of 1.four % and a median property tax payment of $6,397. Also, remember that your mortgage firm might not handle Dallas county property tax each tax bill. Even when your mortgage company handles property tax payments, it could nonetheless be possible to receive an extra tax bill from the assessor’s workplace.

TaxNetUSA’s comprehensive database provides you full access to Dallas County’s delinquent property tax listing. We have shaped relationships with the appraisal districts, we've state of the art laptop applications and do the research wanted to get you the lowest potential worth. COVID is closing tax offices in the county's seven authorities facilities. The county says the tax offices Dallas Property Tax Help need to be closed right now within the interest of public health. One concept that has gained momentum in Republican circles is the abolition of school districts’ upkeep and operations tax, which Patrick instructed senators to look into this 12 months. “Many components complicate how property taxes are calculated,” stated Adam Perdue, a analysis economist at the Texas Real Estate Research Center at Texas A&M University.

Property taxes in Dallas County are determined by a couple of main components. First, the property value is assessed by the Dallas County Appraisal District (DCAD). The appraisal district will assess the worth of property each one to a few years. The DCAD can be liable for applying Property Tax Loan Dallas adjustments in home value due to a wide selection of factors. This consists of modifications attributable to market fluctuations, modifications in possession, improvements to the property, and damages.

Some in style points of interest in Dallas County embody the Dallas Arts District, the Perot Museum of Nature and Science, the Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Garden, and the AT&T Stadium (home of the Dallas Cowboys). The county is also identified for its vibrant dining Property Tax Loans Dallas and buying scenes, with many native and regional options. The economic system of Dallas County is driven by a broad range of industries, together with healthcare, education, manufacturing, and finance.

That's why we're right here to help.At Property Tax Protest, we specialize in helping Dallas County residents decrease their property taxes via the protest process. At Property Tax Protest, we perceive that property taxes could be a important burden and we're committed to working with our clients to search out options that work for everyone. We're right here that can assist you navigate the process and make positive that your voice is heard. Sign up with us right Dallas Property Tax Loan now and take the first step in the direction of lower property taxes in Dallas County.Once values are released you probably can search for your home's 2023 property worth on the Dallas CAD website. The proven reality that estimated capitalization rates are higher for city (as against ISD) property taxes is puzzling. The distinction in capitalization rates may be partially explained by fiscal adjustment by overlapping tax jurisdictions.