#some are still angry at the fact that she's dating a dude

[0luv9]

can't move on || mattheo riddle

Summary: He was done fucked, a weak man on his knees for her, mad for her, in love with her and funny enough she didn't know. Him sleeping around isn't helping him though.

Beware: angst, fluff (?), minimal plot, smoking, drugs, alcohol, she/her pronouns, second person used as well, miscommunication, misunderstandings, excessive use of swear words, both reader and Mattheo assume the worst, happy ending.

Words: 4.025k

Mattheo Riddle is in deep shit. His feelings have dug him a deep hole, a hole so deep that he could bury himself a hundred times over and still not be anywhere near the surface. He is so in love with you. And you being so fucking oblivious, mistake his advances for him being friendly. It's funny because when has he ever done something friendly? He's not even friendly to his friends, he insults them as a greeting for fucks sake. It's ridiculous how clueless you are, it was endearing at first but now it's just painful for him to watch you go on dates, that too every date with a different guy.

He thinks you've fucked them all, afterall it's him, Mattheo Riddle, he only thinks in extremes, if you've been on a date with some dude, you ofcourse had fucked him because who wouldn't do you. He resorted to the same ways, fucking his frustration out but instead of feeling satisfied, he would feel relieved for a moment and then his frustration would grow more and more, never coming close to being satisfied. He thought he could just fuck it all out, that he could just forget you, that he could just hate you. It became a routine for him, he got rougher and rougher with the girls he slept with, reaching his own high became harder and harder. It was all because of you, 'cause you couldn't see his love and make him a lover.

His reputation was worsening, his grades started slipping, he started ignoring you, becoming angry easily, snapping at anyone and everyone. Fucking girls left and right, every day was the same and he wondered why the hell he couldn't find a solution to all his problems. His smoking habits became worse, one cigarette turned into two, two turned three and now he was smoking one pack a day. His life was fucked, he could no longer think for himself, the thoughts of you with someone else corrupted his mind at all times. Everyone could see him ruining his life, he couldn't care less, he didn't give a shit about the names he was being called, most of them were true anyway.

…

Tonight was like every other Slytherin party night, except for the fact that he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, all he wanted was a drunk hookup but he had slept with most of the girls in the room and he couldn't bring himself to repeat them over. He sighed, walking off to a secluded balcony, pulling out a cigarette, it was boring, life had become boring.

"Mattheo," he nearly jerked his head in the direction of your voice, it's been so long since he's heard it. All of it coming back to him, all the feelings he was trying to get rid of came right back, knocking at his heart. He's looking for the sweet smile, the one you'd always give him when you'd talk to him but all you did was frown at him, looking at him like the onlookers who gossiped about him and it fucking hurt. "Yes darling," he greeted you like nothing was wrong, before you would've smiled at his cheesy nicknames but now you grimaced at his hoarse voice and stepped back, he quickly looked away, just like that he blew off his last chance, he couldn't face it, he couldn't see you walk away from him, he physically couldn't.

"Riddle-" "Don't, don't call me that," he whispered, it was pathetic, he knows it too but that doesn't stop him, he couldn't hear you call him that. "Mattheo, I am Mattheo," he breathed out like an affirmation to himself, as though reminding himself of the person he's losing, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his shoe. There it is, he's doing it again, acting how you'd want him to act, you disapproved of his smoking habits, you never told him to stop though, just so you know, he would stop if you only asked but you never did. You never asked anything of him, making the friendship feel one-sided, never wanting to bother him, you didn't do that with your other friends, you were openly asking them for favours albeit small, still favours, that's how friends are, looking out for eachother but no, you never expressed it, he just had to read into it. It made him feel as though he was your friend, just for the name sake, wow- he couldn't even be your friend.

He closed his eyes trying to contain himself, taking a hit from the burning cigarette, his hands were trembling, he was hurt, he could never be with you, you were making it clear. For the first time he got an actual sign of rejection and he just couldn't take it. "Riddle." It was still your voice, coming from his side, he slowly turned, there you were, standing next to him, looking at him with concern, giving him the slightest bit of hope, making his heart pound against his chest. He simply stared at you this time, unable to think of a response because you called him by his last name, you never did that. You didn't speak either, both staring at eachother, him with everything unsaid, sadness, anger, hope, longing, love, every fucking thing while you looked at him with worry painted all over your face. Mattheo hated to have people worry about him, noone was obligated to do so and he didn't want anyone to do it but right now, he didn't seem to mind, your attention was on him, worried about him. You finally looked away, placing your glass on the railing, alcohol with a lollipop in the glass, a typical you thing.

"alright, Mattheo," a small smile was tugging at your lips at his actions, "tell me, what's going on?" He didn't have anything to say, what would he say anyway? Upon not receiving an answer you sighed and continued, "Draco was telling me how different you've been-" he scoffed loudly interrupting you, ofcourse this is what it is, Malfoy sending you to talk to him, to scold him like everyone else, ofcourse you wouldn't come to him on your own, he was so fucking worthless in your eyes. “Don’t do that Mattheo-“ “Yeah? Why not? Coming here to scold me like everyone else, you know what, surprise surprise, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” He was angry, you come to talk to him after all these days and it was to tell him, that he’s bad, that he’s wrong, yes, he started it by ignoring you but you didn’t even make an effort to talk to your “friend” while he was away, it pained him to know that you didn’t even care to check up on him.

“No, I am worried Mattheo, this is not okay for you,” you moved closer, shaking your head trying to find the words, “I tried Mattheo, to catch you, to talk to you but you were always turning away, ignoring me, I couldn’t even get a proper look at you these weeks. Draco was joking about you smoking two a day, one for each girl you slept with, it was then but now, a whole pack a day? I tried to get to you, tried to see what’s been hurting you, but all I saw was your back towards me.” You paused, looking around clearly frustrated, “I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk about it, so I stopped trying but I am sorry, I can’t help myself, I care about you Mattheo and I hate to see you like this,” you looked up at him, hoping he’d understand but he only stared at you blankly, maybe you were wrong to care, he clearly didn’t want to be bothered, you sighed yet again, clearly there was no point, you could only wish for him to be better.

You mustered up all the courage you could, moving closer to the brunette who still hadn’t said a thing, “I am sorry for bothering you, I hope you win whatever battle it is that you are fighting, just know that I care and I can’t help but be worried when you are hurting, sorry if it is selfish that I want you to be better, I won’t disturb you anymore” you gave him a small smile, going up on your tiptoes planting a small kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment, holding his hand in both of your own giving it a hard squeeze before letting go. It pained you to see that he didn’t seem to care about his own life, making you feel useless for doing the same, he was dear to you, you didn’t want to let go of him but clearly he didn’t want the same, who were you to deny him of anything? So, you let go, taking the moment in before walking away, the tears were ready to fall, you weren’t going to let him see that, you didn’t want him to see how pent up you were over him when he couldn’t even bring himself to care.

Mattheo could feel his chest burn, he could feel the sting in his heart at the sight of you walking away, his knees felt weak, you cared? You tried to reach out? Yes you did, of course you did, you weren’t the ugly person he tried to paint you as, he wanted to hate you so bad, he wanted you to be wrong, he wanted you to scold him, he wanted you to hate him just so he could move on but no, he could never move on from you, even if you spat his way he’d love you. ‘Sorry if it is selfish-’ he fucking wants you to be selfish, he wants you to be selfish about him. Only if he wasn’t busy imagining you with other guys, maybe he would’ve noticed that you smile a bit more around him, just maybe he’d see your eyes looking out for him. Maybe then he would’ve seen the look in your eyes, one similar to his, but he was a fool, he’d always be unworthy of your love, you wouldn’t love someone like him, he ruled that possibility out the very moment he fell in love with you, thereby in his mind even if you actually loved him, you didn’t because he couldn’t see it.

He called after you, he couldn’t see you walk away, not when he has so much to say. You turned around, he saw tears in your eyes, he felt like dying, it was him who made you cry, if he didn't hate himself before, he clearly did right then. With two wide strides he was infront of you, holding your face, wiping away your tears, "please don't walk away from me," he muttered, trying to get you to look up at him, you look up at him with stars in your eyes, taking his breath away, 'I want you so bad' he thinks to himself but it's false, no, he doesn't simply want you, he fucking needs you like the air you take away from him, when you look at him like that- hazy eyed, making him think that you love him but he knows you don't, he knows you don't love the guys you go on dates with, he knows you don't love the guys you sleep with, in his eyes you love to care but don't care to love, he'll be one of those guys, if it means you'll have him, even if it is for one night.

He was staring at you, looking for a sign, waiting for you to push him away but you just look at him with glossy eyes, making him weak, unable to contain himself he presses his lips against yours, you hiss pulling back, the bitter taste of smoke invading your senses, your reaction hurts him, he couldn't even be one of your guys, that's how worthless he is, his grip loosens, he tastes you on his lips, sweet cherry- the lollipop still sugary on your lips. Then you surprise him, fisting his collar, pulling him down, soft lips on his, like honey against his smoke. He loses it then and there, his hand comes up to hold your face, the other low on your back pulling you flush against him. It was heaven, eyes closed, moving in sync, savouring every second, he could feel his skin tingle, his body burn, it was pathetic how you could bring him to feel so much with the simplest of touches, and now you were kissing him, better than any dream or fantasy, it's real, he reminds himself, frowning as he concentrates trying to capture every single detail, of you against him.

Mattheo walks you back to the railings, not letting go of you even for a second. You pull away as the cold metal makes contact with your body, the sting seeping through the thin layer of your clothes. Still impossibly close practically breathing the same air, then the situation dawns upon you, you look up at Mattheo in horror. This is what has become of your love for him, he's using your attraction towards him to get you into bed, just like he did with other girls. There was no difference in their relationship with him and yours with him, evidently so. You loved kissing him but you hated the fact that it meant everything to you but all it was to him was a one night stand, your dignity would not allow it, even though you wanted him so badly. "I'm- I'm sorry but I can't," you quickly walk off, not looking back this was humiliation, you felt embarrassed.

One moment you were there kissing him and the next you were gone, he fucking hates this because he doesn't know what to do or what made you push him away. You gave him hope when you kissed him but shattered it when you walked away, you were confusing him. Why'd you kiss him like that if you wanted to let go? His hands reach out to pull at his hair, "Fuck" he grits out, it was frustrating not knowing what to do, knowing he has done something wrong. But for the most part, he doesn't know how you feel, you kissed him like you felt something but you walked away like it was nothing. He's over it.

…

He's absolutely not over it. He couldn't even stick to the plan for five seconds, images of you in his arms plagued his mind. He could only cherish that moment, he felt more alive in those few seconds than he ever did, his lips are still tingling, it's the next morning and his head is still in clouds. Mattheo for once, feels human- he feels like going to class again just so he could see you. The wound of your rejection was still fresh in his heart but so was the memory of your lips against his in his mind.

He could handle the professors' taunts, he infact muted them out and zeroed in on your face, you were avoiding him, he could see it, trying so hard just like he did the past few weeks. He saw himself in you for a moment but then you started talking to some Hufflepuff dude next to you, smiling at him so pretty, his blood started burning hot when he saw the guy touch you. You did nothing to push him away, pfft- ofcourse he wasn't Mattheo fucking Riddle that you'd push him away.

Mattheo was practically burning holes into you skull as he took a seat in the very back. Only if he wasn't so overtaken by jealousy he'd see that your smile didn't reach your eyes as you laughed at the Puff's joke, that your reactions were simply polite, a mere distraction from the pinching of your heart. You didn't want to be one of the girls he slept with, didn't want to be discarded after being used.

He couldn't even be one of your guys, he fucking wanted it to be him so bad just to have your for a night, just so you could see him in a different light, just so you'd know that he loved you. He'd gladly be discarded by you.

…

Mattheo has been searching for you, for about an hour now, you were minx- rushing out of the class before he could catch upto you. You were no where to be seen, he was actually getting worried. He was just about to enter the dungeons when he saw Pansy near the entrance. She'd know your whereabouts, she was a close friend of yours. She'd help him too, because she was his friend as well, right? Or had he destroyed every relationship he had the past few weeks. "Pans, a moment please" "oh hey Mattheo," she greeted him with a smile, that's a good sign, "umm- do you know where-" there he was, polite stuttering fucktard, "oh I know where she is," He didn't even tell her who he was looking for, confusion taking over his features, "I saw you looking at her in class, you like her don't you?" Was he that obvious? If so, why couldn't she see it? "Yeah," he finally admitted it to someone else, it was out there now, he felt some weight lift off of his shoulders, there was no denying to it, he loved her and he doesn't care if he gets laughed at for it but then his heart stops at her next words. "She's on a date with some Hufflepuff, in Hogsmeade," her voice was sympathetic, hurt was painted all over his face.

They were standing there in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before she broke it, heading towards the entrance, "You know you should tell her," she gave him a small smile, she patted his back ready to slip into the entrance, he stopped her "Why? Did she say something about me?" His voice was full of hope, hoping that maybe she had confessed to her friend just like he did right then but to add onto his sorrow, Pansy shook her head, he let his head hang low, moving his hand over his face, scoffing bitterly at the situation he was in, "but you should still tell her, at least you'll be satisfied knowing that you did something about it than do nothing." She shrugged walking in, leaving him there to think about her words.

She is right. He has to know, to know how you feel, he has to talk to you, has to let you know how he feels because in his heart, there's hope that you may like him back because you kissed him like you did. Mattheo wants to confirm that it wasn't his delusions that rendered your lips to move against his in adoration, something more than just physical. He has to hold you again in his arms-

He didn't even have to walk far away to find you, walking alone in the empty corridor but you turn around as you see him. Mattheo won't let you do that this time, he's onto you within seconds grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. "What-" "Please don't ignore me-" "I am not!" You sound defensive, taking your hand back, folding them as you look at him as though he is some lowlife human, there's a similar hurt in your eyes, one he knows a bit too well. "Yes you are, please don't try to deny it," he says slowly and carefully, he doesn't want you to walk away, "what do you want Mattheo?" You are annoyed, you stretch out his name showing your impatience. He takes his sweet time though, taking your hands in his, they feel cold, snatching away the warmthness of the action, "Why did you walk away? Yesterday?" "Why? Is there some rule against it-""no no ofcourse not-" both of you interrupting each other, you were frustrated, what was he trying to do? Did his ego take such a huge hit that you didn't want to sleep with him, like those girls he used and discarded? "Tell me why is it that you care? It's not a huge deal to you, you can have anyone else to sleep with you, it shouldn't matter that one girl decided to walk away when you have tens and hundreds lining up-" "WHAT?" He was looking at as though you were saying something ridiculous, "I cared about our relationship enough not to ruin it but you had to be there, trying to use me like you use the other girls and then discard me-" "STOP!" He holds your face in his hands, intense gaze setting you ablaze, "I fucking care, don’t think otherwise, I care because it's you, you could never be them-"

"wow- am I so worthless and unattractive in your eyes that you don't even-" "Wait, it should be me saying all of this, about you and the guys you on dates with, the guys you take to bed-" "What guys-" you both were now screaming at eachother, it was overwhelming, having to be vulnerable and admit your feelings and not understand what the person in front of you is saying. "I have not once slept with the guys I went on dates with, I'm in love with you for fucks sake but I got tired of waiting for you to love me," What.

He fucked up.

"Fuck, fuck-" his knees hit the ground as he covers his face with his hands, he's ruined all his chances by being an assuming dickhead. Heavens goodness- "FUCK!" He groans into his palms, not being able to digest what you had just said, he feels ecstatic that you love him but he hates that he's ruined his chances with you, "Mattheo-" "Fuck, I am so sorry, I've been a fool, a fucking idiot-" he pulls you down, grabbing your hands, crying because he doesn't know any other way to express it. He has lost his chance all because he let jealousy get the best of him, took illogical steps to overcome it. "I love you, I fucking am in love with you," he grips your hands tight, shaking them as he speaks, unable to control his very physical reaction, "Mattheo what-" "I thought that I could fuck it all out, fuck all the feelings away but no you were always on my mind, not just you but you with someone else, happy. I thought maybe I could resort to your ways, thought maybe I could sleep around then I'd get rid of my feelings, afterall you seemed happy doing it but you never- FUCK! I am so fucking sorry, I love you-" you kiss him, he sure was an idiot to think that you could just flip a switch and "unlove" him, what kind of love would that be? You hated to admit it, you loved him even when he was sleeping with so many girls, you loved him before he did that, a few weeks were nothing to make you hate him.

It was brief kiss, enough to silence him, tears were still running down his face- he was a heartbroken man on his knees afterall- they were only a sign of his regret, then he was at it again, apologising, "stop Mattheo, you are foolish if you think that I'll love one moment and not love you the next-" "but you don't deserve it, not after what I did-" "let me decide that. Do you love me?" Your ask is serious, so he answers you with utmost sincerity, his words soft, full of truth "I love you, more than I think I can handle," he looks down, you don't let him as you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him close, "Learn to handle it then, I am not going anywhere." For the first time in his life, does Mattheo experience pure bliss, you are a sin against his lips, he pulls you closer like a prayer because if there's a god above, he'd pray for you to be his.

...

[gyusrose]

➵ i still get jealous -> y. jw

⚠︎ smut ! (mdni)

✎ toxic!jungwon, unprotected sex, degrading, dirty talk, face-fucking, angry sex

summary: you’ve been friends with jake for as long as you can remember, jungwon shouldn’t feel insecure about him, right?

wc: 1.5k

{ jungwon x fem.reader}

( i got inspired by that one question they asked won in the fan meet hehehe)

“wonie? wonie? is everything alright?” jungwon gripped the steering wheel locking his jaw. of course he wasn’t alright.

you’ve spent the entire night (according to him) on your phone texting that fucker. it’s always ‘jake this’ ‘jake that’ he’s starting to feel a certain way about this dude.

jungwon shook his head at your question, not trying to start arguing while he’s driving.

“you’re just awfully silent, is something bothering you? do you feel sick?”

jungwon rolled his eyes at your naiveness, you pretty much ignored him (again according to him) the whole night.

“i don’t know, maybe ask jake how he feels.” there. he said it, well.. spatted.

you instantly rolled your eyes, he’s back at it again.

“don’t start, you know exactly what’s between me and jake.”

“are you sure ? you were giggling on the phone the whole night!”

“i answered one 3-minute call! that’s it! do you not trust me ?”

“i sometimes feel like i don’t, you barely talked to me, it always jake jake jake jake.”

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. where was he getting all of this from?

jungwon was in fact wrong. you didn’t ignore him nor talked with jake the whole night. you answers ONE call from him and then turned off your phone to give jungwon all your undivided attention. but jungwon like always, overthinks everything.

“at this point just date him.” at this point jungwon was furious.

“oh stop being ridiculous jungwon!”

“oh i’m ridiculous ? alright we’ll see.”

the rest of the ride was quiet, you didn’t have the guts to respond to jungwon after what he said. your breath quickened, for some reason you felt..nervous?

jungwon threw his keys on the counter as y’all entered the apartment.

he pulled you into the bedroom in a blink of an eye, gripping your neck, so you’re looking at him straight in the eye.

“i’m gonna fucking teach you, not to be such a little slut, i’m the only man you should talk to, am i right?”

you nodded quickly.

“use your words”

“yes, yes jungwon only you.”

he let go of your neck, now stripping from his clothes, you went along with his steps and took your own clothes off.

“on your knees baby.”

he said stroking his dick in front of you.

“you know what to do.” you grabbed his base and licked the tip slowly. feeling the urge to tease him.

jungwon groaned at your actions. grabbing your chin.

“nuh uh, open wide, i see what you’re trying to do.” you opened up your mouth while he grabbed hair into a ponytail. his hips thrusted up inside your mouth as he pushed your head down onto his cock. pretty much fucking the hell out of your face.

jungwon’s eyes closed in pleasure as he continued to furiously thrust into your mouth, the feeling of tagging drove him over the edge, the way your throat closes made his dick twitch.

“fuck yeah, that’s right, keep that mouth open for me whore. “

at some point you couldn’t take it anymore and started moaning into his dick sending vibrations through it.

he finally pulled out of your mouth, not wanting to cum so easily. you were just adjusting your breathing when you felt being thrown into the bed.

“are you tired already ? i haven’t even fucked you yet, how pathetic.” she said shaking his head in disappointment.

without any warning, he inserted two of his long fingers into your cunt, making your back arch at the sudden sensation. he purposely went really slow, loving to see how stressed you’d get. lifting your hips up a little to go faster.

jungwon held your hips still, smacking the inside of your thigh, making you squirm.

“you think i’m going to let you do what you want?” his fingers still thrusting into you curling them inside.

you moaned loudly, wanting to be filled up already.

“please jungwon, fuck me, just fuck me!”

jungwon chuckled, this is how he wanted to see you, begging for him only him.

“so desperate for my dick, you fucking love it don’t you?” he said looking straight at you.

you could barely form a sentence but you managed to.

“yes please wonie just fill me up, i need you.” jungwon didn’t want to give in so easily but fuck was that so hard to do when you’re looking at him with those eyes begging to be fucked.

he retracted his fingers from you and instead lined himself up with your entrance. the wetness from his dick and your pussy was more than enough lube.

he dragged his dick up and down your pussy making you whine.

finally, he slowly entered you. nothing could be compared to the feeling of being inside of you. the way your pussy engrossed his cock almost made him cum on the spot.

jungwon wasted almost no time and started slamming into you with no mercy, your cries could probably be heard from blocks away.

the bed squeaked with every thrust he stirred.

“oh fuck jungwon, just like that fuck yes!” he knew how to drive you crazy, knowing exactly where to hit in your insides.

“mhm yeah? you like that? can jake fuck you like this? can he?” he grabbed your chin straight at him. normally you would roll your eyes at his remarks over your best friend but how hot it looked right now.

wanting to tease him more, you nodded your head.

“i don’t know maybe, he could probably go faster..” jungwon was appalled.

his thrusts weee enraged. you could feel how infuriated he was with every one of them. it was amazing.

“oh you think? can he make you feel like this? huh?” his hand lowered to your pussy, rubbing your clit in circular motion making you hips snap at the impact it had on your body.

you whines, moaned and groaned at all once.

“answer me!”

“no-shit - not he can’t.” with the speed he was going at, jungwon was dying for this view, you tits bouncing up at every thrust, he couldn’t help but lean down to suck and fondle them.

your hands reached down to his hair, gripping it not wanting him to pull away from them.

jungwon pulled away from your nipple and leaned back to his original position. now putting your legs over his shoulder in order to go even deeper (if possible) .

“only i can see you like this, you get that slut? no one, specifically jake can.”

“yes only you baby, fuck i’m gonna cum!” tears could be seen streaming down your face from the immense amount of pleasure you were receiving. jungwon wiped your tears then leaned down engulfing you in a deep kiss. his tongue swirled around yours, it felt like everything all at once. lust, love, anger, compassion.

“who’s pussy is this huh? tell me.”

“i’m cumming holy shit.”

“do not cum! tell me answer my question! who’s pussy is this?”

the ecstasy from the pleasure but now the urge to cum made your mind numb. barely forming a sentence.

“yours jungwon.” you said quietly, sure he heard it but he wasn’t content with it.

“i can’t hear you!” jungwon leaned closer to you. smirking. he wanted to cum so bad, but he wanted to hear you say that before it.

“yours jungwon! all yours to fuck.” you said much louder this time, the stress visible in your voice.

that’s all it took jungwon to come undone inside of you.

“fuck cum with me baby, cum all over my dick.” your orgasm mixed with his meant a furor of moans echoing around the bedroom.

jungwon pulled out of you before plopping right next to you, hugging your waist.

“tell that fucker to not call you so much.” you chuckled and kissed his lips knowing damn well that you’ll probably do it again in order to have this side of jungwon again.

[belladonazeppole]

The Many Suitors of Miss Fortune

"I fucking knew it!" Adam yelled while pointing at Husk, this asshole reborn as a sinner and didn't took him long enough to come to the hotel asking for a place to stay since it look that lot of sinners could recognizr him and they weren't happy.

Charlie, the bleeding heart that she had, accept him even if she wasn't excited of him be here but she believe that everybody deserve redemption even if that person was Adam who took a liking on Husk.

"You almost convince me that you were a dude!" For some reason Adam believe that Husk is a woman. Maybe it was his chest fur since Angel gave him a shampo that gave Husk more volume or maybe Adam is into woman with deep voices or he's just a fucking moron. "You look so hot that I can get over you having the bitchest personality in this dump."

"I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD YOU CAN'T BE THIS FUCKING STUPID! " Husk yelled angrily at Adam, he has this argument to many times and just fially he succed in making him see reason in that thick skull of his."I'M JUST IN DRAG!"

The fact that he comes from Adam just makes him lose hope.

Sadly he can't make this moron see reason but he was right in one thing, he look really good. Husk has to congratulate Angel for making his grumpy old ass look this great. Husk was wearing a golden-yellow backless dress with a slip on the side, golden heels to match, a short wig that was the same color that his fur. It make Husk remember his youth when he do some drag as "Lady Luck" but that was when he was alive.

"As crude and imbecile Adam can be, he is right for once, you look quite wonderful tonight, my dear Husker." Said Alastor while spawning out nowhere in the stool of the bar while glaring at Husk. That was actually kinda sweet from Alastor since after their deal was broken their relationship was.... weird. Alastor sometimes tried to treat still like his pet but now Husk could actually refuse.

Alastor still was a bitch in deer clothing but maybe they can move on from their owner/pet relationship, maybe even making Alastor see Husk as an actual person and not his cat.

"Thanks, Al. That—

"Your welcome! But I do have a problem while the dress fits you like a glove the color just don't see like the right one." He squints his eyes while looking at him up and down to then snapping his fingers making the dress changing from golden-yellow to red, "There! It isn't better? Red was always a color that look better on you, my friend."

Or maybe not.

"No thanks. This color fits me way better than red." He said with a smug smile while snaping his fingers and, return the dress from Alastor signature red to his original golden-yellow, which make one of Alastor's ears twitch.

"Just ignore them you can't deal with stupid or batshit crazy." Said Angel while not giving Adam or Alastor much of a thought, the first just flip him in return while the latter strains his smile, "Now give me a spin! I want to see all my hard work before your date ravish you!"

"DATE WITH FUCKING WHO?" Adam yelled now angry knowing that the hottie that he was trying to bang was gonna be bang for somebody else.

"Husker!?" Alastor was shocked that his former (pet) associate was having date he believe that he and Angel were going to one of their silly "going out" but that somebody was having interest in his oldest... friend. It make Alastor feel angry and possesive. Meanwhile, Husk just rolls his eyes and ignore the outburst of these dumbass but still does what his friend ask him, after all Angel did help him and looking like this-

"This is just a first date, Angel."

"Just do what I'll do."

"I won't do anal in the first date." He cringes at bit at the sound of radio interference but refuse to giving Alastor the attention, "Buuh you whore!" Angel said jokingly while Husk just snorted at him.

"There you are!" A new voice make himself know, that was coming from the TV, it was Vox, who succed in coming out of the TV before Alastor could destroy it. "Fuck you old fossil!!" He yell while giving the finger to the radio demon.

Ever since Vox saw Alastor defeat agaisnt Adam he become more bold in entering to the hotel to mock the other overlord and old rival much to everybody else annoyance. Even fake dating Husk to have more info but the dumbass become more invested in Husk.

He may become Husk unofficial sugar daddy.

They don't even fuck.

Vox just gaves Husk money like an idiot for doing nothing.

Again Vox is a moron.

"Are you gonna fuck a fucking TV instead of having me? The Dickmaster?" Adam asked in disbelieve, fuck he fall really hard in this one. "He looks soo desperate."

"Inded and needy." Alastor glare harder at Vox, "I would expect that you have a better taste than this, Husker." At hint of dissapointment was in Alastor voice. Vox, for the first time, didn't put a lot of mind on them, "And you two are better?" He asked while crossing his arms to them point to Adam, "You! A broke fallen angel that is so fucking desperate that come to the place that tried to destroy in the first place!" Now pointing at Alastor, "And you! A coward who escape in battle and treat him like a pet at best!"

Now looking smug, "While I'm a powerful overlord that has tons of money and can make any of his whishes reality."

"I mean he isn't wrong."

"True, but Husk has a date with somebody waaayy better than any of you guys."

"WHO?" The three of them ask in anger.

"Hoo Mama!"

The three sinners slowly begin to turn around to see Lucifer the King of Hell with a bottle of apple cider and his mouth wide open at the sight of Husk, so he was the date.

That motherfucker.

Lucifer seeing that there were more people watching him pulled himself together as best he could, failure of course, "I mean…uh- You look beautiful tonight Hu- I mean Miss Fortune, yes, that color suits you excellently." He said hurriedly as he handed the bottle of apple cider to Husk who only smiled at his reaction.

He hands the bottle to Angel, "Thanks, Duckie." He laughs a little as the redness in his cheeks appears, "But you have Angel to thank, he's the one who made my geezer self look this awesome."

"Uuhhh, thank you Angel." He said a little awkward as with the use of his magic made another bottle appear, "A thank you for making Husk look amazing…I mean more! More amazing than you normally look, you always look good but now? I almost fainted…"

He really was Charlie's father.

The same verbal diarrhea when they're nervous.

It was adorable if he was honest.

"I understand you look amazing today too, Duckie." He said once again using Lucifer's nickname which only made him smile more and more relaxed, "I'll wait for you outside."

"Thanks, Short King" Said Angel with the bottle in his hand and leaving to his room, "Have a good fuck you two!" He just waves his hand a bit awkwardly, "Don't worry I'll make sure Husk has a night he won't forget."

He was ready to leave until he sees the three sinners looking at him with daggers in their eyes, his awkward posture changes to an arrogant one while he flashes them the finger, "You three want to be me so badly right now."

"Adam, looks like third time's the charm after all. Alfred I'm sorry for not being able to stay for a conversation but I have date right now…. and who are you?" He said the last while pointing at Vox but shakes his head nonchalantly, "It doesn't matter if I'm honest. I have go to my date with Miss Fortune and if I'm lucky it will soon be Mrs Fortune." He said while sticking his tongue out between his fingers.

"Toodles!" He cheerfully as he leaves the three of them alone.

The King had a date and felt really lucky if he is honest!

(This takes inspiration by a small convo that @adyophene and I had it was too good for me not write.)

[barblaz-arts]

I think people have been accustomed to couples being in that honeymoon phase when they’re shown onscreen together. We ALWAYS see that with newly-established couples in pretty much any type of media… But that’s not Chaggie.

Charlie and Vaggie have been together for years. Their honeymoon phase has long past. They’re not doing outlandish displays of affection. They’re just, comfortable. Doesn’t mean they love each other any less, just that those sappy moments aren’t as common anymore

Yes! also the way a lot of people are surprised that charlie and vaggie aren't only best friends is such a good example of the double standards wlw ships get. thinking they aren't dating is understandable. Overlooking that Vaggie and Charlie were meant to at least be shipped together is INSANE.

If i never knew they were dating already, i and so many other sapphic ship lovers would be eyeing tf out of Vaggie and Charlie's relationship. Lookit some of the things that happened/are established before the "she's my girlfriend" line in ep 5

- the newcaster lady made a homophobic comment towards Charlie, saying she "doesn't touch the gays" when Charlie tried to give her a handshake

- THIS

- just all the times Vaggie would soften up as soon as she sees Charlie smiling or being her dorky self despite being previously upset/angry

- Vaggie's whole friggin verse in Whatever It Takes is very obviously meant to be romantic

- Charlie being worried about Angel Dust while Vaggie gives her the most "i love you and im sad that you're upset but i love that you're upset over something like this because it shows how amazing of a person you are" look at Charlie as she tucks her hair behind her ear

- Angel: I think this belongs to you *hands Charlie over to Vaggie*

- just all the casual touches they do that would totally be read as shipping fuel AT LEAST if it happened between a male/female duo or two men

- the fact Vaggie woke up?? Looking beside her to find Charlie?? To show that they sleep in the same bed?????

- Vaggie offering her hand unprompted when Charlie was having a stressful phone call with her dad and Charlie readily accepting it

And I'm sure there are people who'd go "But it's always shown from Vaggie's end! It looks so one-sided!" So? Aren't there tons of ships out there that seem one-sided but yall are perfectly fine shipping? And it's harder to see Charlie's love for Vaggie because Charlie at her core is a very loving and affectionate person. Of course it's gonna be more obvious for Vaggie since she's so prickly towards anyone else.

If all these things still happened without any of us knowing that they were actually girlfriends, we'd have a certain section of the fandom shipping it hoping they DO become canon while others would be claiming we'd be ruining a perfectly good platonic friendship by making it gay. They'd say we're reading too much into things.

But they ARE a couple. we aren't reading too much into things because it was meant to be read as romantic. And yet we're still the delusional ones for thinking an already established sapphic couple is "cute and interesting" because now they're claiming they simply dont have chemistry. It's frustrating.

Of course I have my criticisms too. The show could portray more of how Vaggie is more special to Charlie than anyone else, have them flirting more overtly or something. But any argument that they're "so boring i thought it was het" is invalid to me because i damn well know if at least one them was a dude a lot of them would be saying otherwise.

[jjwantsme]

trouble is my middle name

j.m

pairing: jj maybank x girlfriend!pogue!reader

summary: in which y/n decides to leave her boyfriend alone for just a few minutes, and it results in nothing but chaos.

warnings: psychical fighting, an angry but HOT jj, bestfriend!sarah, cussing, mentions of sex, fem reader, let me know if i missed anything!

authors note: jj is so boyfriend for this. you’re welcome

masterlist

“Dude,” JJ laughed, an arm tight around y/n’s waist as he laughed at something pope said, “you’re so full of shit!”

“No, i’m not! What makes you think I can’t do a backflip?” Pope argued back as he rested his forearms on his knees.

“Uh, you were on the math team?!” The blondie laughed in the other boys face, getting distracted when he felt his girlfriend move away from his arm.

He was always like this at parties, always keeping an arm around her or a hand holding hers.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her when she wasn’t around him, of course he trusted her- more than he’s ever trusted anyone before.

He just knew that there were weird people out there, perverted people. And he didn’t want his honey to become a victim to their perverted ways.

“Hey, babe, where you going?” JJ quickly asked y/n before she could get too far. “Oh! I was gonna go hang out with sarah, she texted me and told me to meet her in the bathroom. Is that okay?” She smiled up at him with her sweet eyes, wrapping one of her hands around his.

JJ returned the sweet smile, “of course, baby.”

He leaned in to give her a lingering goodbye kiss, y/n humming lightly into it when she could taste the beer on his lips.

She giggled as she pulled away, “on second thought , maybe i shouldn’t leave you alone. You’ve obviously had too much to drink…”

JJ immediately scoffed, “Pft, I’m fine. Go have fun, pretty girl.”

Y/n grinned and gave him one last peck on his red lips, before walking towards where she knew sarah would be.

JJ smiled as he watched her go, just admiring his little angel. He still couldn’t believe she let him start dating her.

In his mind, y/n was 𝗯𝗲𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗱 out of his league.

She was too pretty, too smart. He was sure she would be valedictorian by the end of the school year- she was the most intelligent person he’d ever met, outdoing pope by miles.

It’s not like JJ was an insecure person, he was definitely over confident. Before he fell for y/n, people described him as a player, being able to kill with his looks.

He just knew a good thing when he got it, and y/n was one of those things.

His state of admiration was cut short when he heard a whistle from behind him, one that he hoped wasn’t towards his girlfriend.

“Damn, look at that ass!”

JJ’s face became red with rage, steam practically coming out of his ears as he turned around.

“Oh, shit.” Pope mumbled, preparing to call y/n back as he knew a fight was about to happen.

Typical party with JJ.

JJ grabbed the ignorant kook by the collar of his shirt, gripping it tight, “What the fuck did you just say about my girlfriend?!”

“Chill, man, i was just saying, it’s a nice-“

He didn’t even get to finish his crude sentence before JJ clocked him right in the face.

Meanwhile, y/n stood in the bathroom doing sarah’s hair, still oblivious to the perverted comment that was previously made towards her.

“Hey, do you hear that? Sounds like a fight…” sarah spoke as she heard commotion from the other side of the door, making y/n pause her movements.

Oh, fuck.

“Goddamn it, J,” y/n mumbled before heading out already knowing the fight would somehow involve her drunk boyfriend.

And she was right, immediately seeing her boyfriend getting separated from some random kook as he spit out blood from his mouth.

For a mere second, as John B and pope held him back, he caught her eye and smiled at her; making her weak in the knees, despite the fact she was mad at his aggressive mannerisms.

“2 minutes,” y/n spoke sternly as she wiped off blood from JJ’s chin with a makeup wipe, “I left you alone for 2 minutes, JJ!”

JJ probably shouldn’t admit this, but man, did it turn him on to see his girlfriend get all feisty on him like this.

“Look, baby, I’m sorry, okay?” JJ sighed, “But i don’t regret what i did! He was being a total jackass.”

“I don’t care what he did, JJ, violence isn’t-“

“He talked about you! In a…weird way. Like, about your body.”

“Oh.” Y/n’s eyes softened as she bit her lip, “you got into a fight over me?”

JJ scoffed, “Damn right, and I’ll do it again!”

Now, y/n probably shouldn’t admit 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, but knowing her boyfriend gave someone a bloody nose for her, was definitely turning her on.

She didn’t need to admit it, though, instead she just kissed him, making him wrap his arms around her waist.

Boy, were they in for a long night.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A Couple Days In (I Call You Baby)

Modern!Steve Harrington x fem!reader [6.8K] 18+ the two night stand au no one asked for, or, the fic where you meet steve on a dating app and then a snowstorm ensures you can't sneak out the next morning. PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Being single was becoming boring. 

Boring in the way that seeing your friends in love and having fun in a way that you weren’t was starting to hurt. A full ache, settling in your chest until it bore a hole there and stayed, taking up space where the heartbreak used to live. 

You weren’t heartbroken. Not anymore. You were less sad, less angry. You were bored. And almost always perpetually turned on. You didn’t want love, you certainly didn’t want another relationship but you were at the stage of feeling that yearning pull when you watched a romcom on your sofa, slumped against your roommate with a frown on your lips. 

“I think I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be touched,” you said mournfully, your gaze fixed in the way Patrick Swayze’s hand trailed down Jennifer Grey’s side. 

“Babe, this is rated a fifteen,” Robin snorted in reply but she ran a hand over your hair anyway. “It’s that bad huh?” She grinned when you whined at the screen, watching with wide eyes as Johnny Castle took off Baby’s shirt. 

You sat up, taking the blanket with you and Robin huffed, dragging her half back. There was an empty bottle of red wine on the table, Chinese takeout cartons and a mess of charging cables, your laptop, Robin’s cell phone. 

“I just want some fun,” you grumbled. “Nothing serious, just— just someone to fool around with.”

“You want a fuck buddy?” Robin grinned salacious, the movie forgotten as she turned to face you, leaning against the arm of the couch. “Should I go through my Instagram? Give you the name of every boy I know?”

“You know like, seven boys,” you scoffed but Robin reached for her phone anyway. “And no, god, no fuck buddies. Even that’s too much commitment.”

She laughed and pressed a foot to your thigh, the touch familiar and friendly. “Shit, are you actually considering a hook up?”

You squirmed, too warm. 

“You are!” Robin squealed, “wow. I never thought I’d see the day. Little miss relationship just wants a one night stand, a fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em kinda—”

“Robin,” you groaned, hands rubbing at your face because the idea of it was so out of your wheelhouse that it was comical. But then Patrick Swayze started crawling across the floor on your TV screen. You paused, frowning. “Fuck, is that bad? Is it bad if I want that?”

Robin scoffed, leaning over to grab the bowl of popcorn you’d both forgotten about. “What? Dude, no. Of course not!” Her voice turned softer, kinder. “You can do whatever you want to do. You deserve to have some fun.”

“I don’t know how to,” you whispered and your chest felt tight again, like that well of boredom was filing again, spilling over with sadness and heartache. You hated it. 

“What, have fun?”

You frowned. “No - well, maybe - no, how to hook up with someone.” You chewed at your lip, confused and panicking despite the fact you were still firmly seated in yours and Robin’s apartment. “Do I just walk into a bar? Pick a guy and ask him if he wants to come home with me?”

Robin spluttered out a laugh, gasping into her wine glass and she looked at you over the rim of it, eyes filled with humour. “Jesus, if you do, can you make sure I’m there to watch it happen?”

You set her with a withering stare, pulling the blanket up to your chest and gazing back at the TV, wistful. You sighed, resigning yourself to the fact that you most definitely couldn’t march into a bar and claim a prize for the night, no matter how many glasses of wine you’d nursed. Robin seemed to understand this, because she nudged you again, a socked foot poking at your knee. 

“You could always try online dating,” she told you mildly.

You scrunched your nose, not taking your eyes off of the way Johnny Castle was thrusting his hips. “Ew,” you replied, voice flat. “Like tinder? Nancy told me I’d never be desperate enough for tinder.”

Robin snorted at the mention of her prim and proper girlfriend but she shook her head anyway. “Nah, go old school with it. Try a website or something, one that doesn’t rely on a carousel of shirtless photos and men holding up either a fish or a puppy in their profile.”

You laughed, draining the last of your wine as you eyed your friend, liking the way the buzz lingered over your tongue, your head. "I bet this would be easier if I were gay,” you replied mournfully. 

Robin cooed, making a soft noise that definitely wasn’t a protest and she grinned. “You’d definitely be Nance and I’s third,” she poked at your cheek, smirked when you bit at it and rolled your eyes. 

----------

Robin left the apartment the next night with her good boots on, a smudge of blush on her cheeks and sad eyes. She stood at the door with her coat on, fussing with her bag as she tried for the twentieth time to wheedle you into going out with her. Guilt laced the small apartment, something that made your chest ache, but you tried not to let it show on your face.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come out with us? It’s Saturday,” Robin coaxed, “we can all get dinner, some drinks, go dancing…”

“Robs, I’m not crashing your date night with your girlfriend,” you told her again. “Go. I’m fine.”

The girl frowned, checking her hair one last time in the mirror, ‘cause she’d tried to curl it and you’d heard her cursing from the bathroom. “You know my girlfriend,” she replied, as if that was enough of a reason for you to join them. “Nance won’t mind.”

You smiled, a little sad, although you tried hard to make your eyes match your lips. You gestured to the TV, the soft blanket you’d pulled from your bedroom, the new bottle of wine on the coffee table. “Go,” you repeated again, this time more sternly. “I’m good. I’m great, in fact. I’ve got all the good ones.” You pointed to the lineup of films on your Netflix list, each cover showing off a different type of Hollywood boy of the month. 

“Top Gun?” Robin snorted, “that’s not even the new one, babe.”

You sniffed, mildly offended. “Young Tom Cruise has a certain je ne sai quois, alright?” 

Robin held her hands up, giving in. She smiled and backed towards the door. “Whatever does it for you. I’ve got my keys, ‘kay? Don’t wait up.”

“I won’t,” you called back, already hitting play on the movie. “Have fun!”

It took two glasses of rosé before you grabbed your phone, face feeling flushed, lips chewed to bits after you sat through scene after scene of handsome men, your mind wandering, your fingers drawing absentminded circles over your stomach, hand underneath your t-shirt. You groaned under your breath as you typed some buzz words into Google, hoping for a website that didn’t sound too terrifying, one that didn’t conjure up images of finding the love of your life, or a husband, one that left out religious words, ones that sounded too cult-like.

You hit the fifth result and quickly made a profile, one eye screwed shut in fear as you uploaded a photo, entering all the details they tried to glean from you, making it as vague as you possibly could. You hit submit, stared wide eyed at the loading screen and then within a blink, your own picture was staring back at you, one Robin had taken last year when you had very much been in a relationship. You were alone in it, in some corner of a party, the lights low, the shadows showing off the way your eyeshadow glittered, your lips a little glossy, your skirt short. 

You looked pretty, not too sweet, not too boring. 

Immediately, requests flooded in. Anonymous looking profiles with no photographs, empty descriptions and usernames like: ‘pu$$yworshipper69’ and ‘callmedaddy1982’.

You wrinkled your nose in disappointment, hitting delete on the messages that spammed your inbox, requests for feet pics, men wondering if you had more photos of your tits, bots that wanted to know if you were looking for love and, could you send your social security number?

Defeat was bitter on your tongue and you sighed, exiting out of your inbox only to be greeted with a new page that displayed singles in your area. One photo caught your interest, a boy with wild hair, kind brown eyes and a smile that seemed genuine. He wore a red shirt over a white tee, tanned in the setting sun, sitting on a beach and looking pretty. 

You clicked, the movie forgotten but the glass of wine lingering at your lips as you scrolled through his page, eyes flicking over details of his likes and dislikes, his age, his job. His name. 

Steve Harrington. Living in Hawkins, Indiana. You swallowed, wine glass left on the coffee table as you curled into the sofa and brought your phone closer to your nose. He had more photos in his gallery, all seemingly taken by someone else instead of the usual topless selfies that had bombard you at first. 

The boy and some other people - friends, you assumed - swimming in a lake in the sun, smiles brighter than the sky. Steve outside, sunglasses covering his eyes and dressed in an old faded band tee. He looked like he’d smell nice, like he’d give good hugs. Another, the last one, where the boy was shirtless. But someone else had taken it as he stood at the edge of a lake again, smiling like he’d been caught off guard. 

You hit the button at the top of his profile, the one that said: “send a message.”

A new page popped up, a little chat box that was intimidatingly empty and you stilled, staring at it. What did you say? How did you begin?

‘Hey, I’ve looked at precisely five photos of you and I know you work at some video store and I think you’re hot. Wanna have sex?’

You cringed, eyes squeezing shut as you quickly deleted the words, groaning at the empty space once more. You remembered what Robin had said, about how wanting to hook up with someone was okay. Loads of people did it. It was fine. 

It was fine. 

@INDIANAGIRL: Hey, how’s it going?

The response took a minute or two, but the wait was agonising, time stretching too slow. A speech bubble appeared on the screen, a sign that pretty boy was replying. 

@HARRINGTON98: hi.. i can't lie, it's going a lot better now. you're really pretty. you sure you clicked on the right profile?

You snorted, trying to remain unaffected by the harmless flirting. But a smile pulled at your lips and you pushed yourself further into the cushions, knees bent and phone resting close. You took a breath and typed back. 

@INDIANAGIRL: Ooh, self deprecating and daddy issues? You’re lucky you’re cute.

You stilled, letting out a groan that you smothered with a pillow after you hit send, ‘cause you were never this forward and it made your insides curl around each other, your heart beat too fast for you to keep up with it. 

There was a pause before his reply and you breathed out a sigh of relief at the little bubble of text.

@HARRINGTON98: haha, what can I say, I’m a catch. honoured to know that you actually took the time to read my profile though. 

@HARRINGTON98: so, apart from your friends and the bottle of wine persuading you, what’re you doing on this on a saturday night?

You smiled, knowing he’d taken the time to read through your page too, as short as your answers were. You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, nails tapping on your phone screen as you tried to think of the best way to reply. 

@INDIANAGIRL: Like you said, it’s a Saturday night. I’m definitely not here looking for love, if that answers your question. But I’m free, if you are?

You held your breath, waiting, eyes wide as the bubble appeared again, three dots dancing across your screen. It stopped, disappeared and started again. 

@HARRINGTON98: cool. do you wanna get drinks or something? 

@HARRINGTON98: it’s no pressure if you don’t. i’ve never done this before? can you tell? but we could hang out. if you wanted. 

You smiled when the second message came through almost immediately after the first. The boy’s obvious nerves settled your own and there was a sense of familiarity in his words, his ramblings. 

It made you feel bolder. 

You typed quickly, as if tapping out the letters faster made it easier to send. You looked around your shared apartment, at Robin’s half open bedroom door. She’d be back in a few hours, maybe less, with Nancy in tow and they’d take up residence on the sofa, Netflix on and another bottle of wine opened. 

@INDIANAGIRL: Neither have I but, we could skip the bar? Maybe hang at yours. 

Oh my god, you thought to yourself. I’m going to get murdered. This is how people end up murdered. Karen and Georgia would be so disappointed. And then:

@HARRINGTON98: 82 rowan street, BLDG A, unit 26

@INDIANAGIRL: Wow, you’re eager. 

@HARRINGTON98: like I said, you’re really fucking pretty

Your heart thundered. 

@INDIANAGIRL: Wait!

@INDIANAGIRL: Can we FaceTime or something? Before? 

@INDIANAGIRL: So I know you’re not a murderer. Or 80. Or both. 

You panicked then, realising what was happening, eyes scanning over the address this Steve Harrington had sent. It wasn’t too far from you, a subway ride out of the city and maybe a ten minute walk at best. You chewed your lip, cheeks burning as you scanned back through his photos. Cute smile, kind eyes, hair you wanted to pull on. 

Your phone buzzed and you swore. A cell number,  a smiley face.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” you chanted to yourself as you typed the digits into the FaceTime app, stopping with a curse when the front camera showed your wide eyes and couch mussed hair. 

You flung the phone onto the cushions, jumping up so you could straighten out your sweater, smoothing down the flyaway strands that stuck to your forehead. You caught sight of one of Robin’s lip balms on the table, swiped some over your lips and you dabbed a little on your cheeks for good measure. 

Taking a deep breath, you picked up the phone again and hit the call button. Maybe the boy was panicking too, maybe he’d backed out, maybe he was standing in front of a mirror as well, swiping hand through his hair and checking his shirt for stains ‘cause it rang and rang and rang. 

Then, he picked up. Fuck. 

@Harrington98 wasn’t eighty years old. In fact, he looked exactly like his photos. He was really pretty. Really, really pretty. Jesus Christ. 

Tanned skin, brown eyes, wild hair, freckles scattered across his cheeks and jawline, creeping down to disappear under his shirt. He had the nicest lips you’d seen on a boy, pink, soft looking, smiling at you. 

“Uh, hey!” The boy greeted brightly, “I'm here for the murder test? Have I passed?”

You grinned, laughing a little nervously as you tucked your hair behind your ear and cleared your throat. “I mean, I haven’t seen your place yet. Any red string boards on the walls? Black and white photos of the same person? Jars of body parts in the fridge?”

He laughed, a nice sound, soft and throaty and warm. “Nah, nah,” the boy shook his head, his smile playful, brows furrowed. “Not in the fridge. The freezer, however…”

You watched the screen as he trailed off, smiling still, looking soft and too handsome in a plain, white T-shirt. “So. I’m Steve. S’nice to meet you.” He lifted a hand, endearing and only a little awkward, waving at you through the phone. 

You waved back, fingers wiggling. “Hi,” you felt shy, nervous. Flustered. You told Steve your name, smiling when he repeated it, trying it out on his tongue and it sounded a lot nicer on his lips than yours. 

“So, this is my place,” Steve announced, spinning his phone around to show you the apartment. It looked loved in, boyish, some old movie posters on the walls in frames, a clock that was showing the wrong time, exposed brick and a big leather couch. “There’s no bodies to be seen, but that’s ‘cause they’re under the floorboards. Obviously.” He turned the camera back to himself, eyes glittering, smile full of trouble. 

“Obviously,” you agreed, grinning, ‘cause it was hard not to. Not when he looked like that. “So shall I, um, bring anything with me or?”

You didn’t know hookup etiquette. Did you bring beers? Condoms? Your own pillow? Would you stay? Would he want you to leave? What if you couldn’t get a train back into the city if he kicked you out at three am?

God, would he kick you out at three am?

Steve glanced down at his watch and smiled sheepishly. “Uh, well. It’s almost eleven at night so I’m gonna guess you’ve had dinner. But I have some buds in the fridge, if you like beer.”

He said it like a secret, like you were both still skirting around the edge of the truth. But he looked down the camera at you with the right amount of flirt and confidence that let you know that he knew what you both wanted out of tonight. 

It wasn’t dinner. It wasn’t a date. It was just sex. And that was okay with the both of you. 

You nodded, fingers skimming across your lip out of nerves, out of curiosity, staring at the boy’s own mouth and wondering if he’d be nice to kiss. He looked like he would. You’d not kissed someone new in so long. 

Years. 

Fuck. 

“Okay, yeah, great!” You said it too brightly and you winced. “I’ll uh, I’ll probably be there in like, half an hour?”

Steve smiled and nodded, told you to call him if you needed directions but you waved him off, noncommittal, too busy wondering if you needed to shave your legs and I’d you’d be able to find your last good pair of black underwear. 

This was the part of the bad rom com movie where an early 2000’s pop punk song would play over a montage of you tearing the apartment apart as you tried to get ready. But Blink 182 didn’t start playing and instead, you could only hear the sound of your heart thudding in your chest. 

So when you hung up the phone, you launched it onto the table, almost sliding past the bathroom door as you ran to it, shedding off your comfy clothes as you went. You took the worlds fastest shower, ran your razor over all the parts you declared not smooth enough and drowned yourself in peach scented body wash. 

Deciding what to wear was difficult, ‘cause dresses were easier to take off but it was below zero outside and you weren’t fucking around with tights and extra socks. So you stole a pair of Robin’s jeans, ankles tripping over the hem of them as you struggled to pull them on at the same time you yanked a brush through your hair. Some concealer, a smudge of blush, mascara, more lip balm and you grabbed your bag on the way to the door, keys and phone in hand as you texted the group chat. 

‘82 rowan street, BLDG A, unit 26. I’m about to get dicked down. I think. Don’t wait up. But call the cops if I’m not home in the morning. Do I bring a gift to a hook up?’

Your phone pinged once, twice, three times. 

#1 gay friend: ‘bitch, what the fuck?’

gay friend’s girlfriend: ‘Babe, no. No gifts. Be safe though. Do you know this guy? Do we know this guy? Share your location rn.’

eduardo: ‘GEDDIT’

You sighed but did as Nancy asked, not bothering with a real reply but sending the link to find your iPhone. Your hands shook as you swiped your metro card and you weren’t sure if it was from the cold or nerves. Did you spray perfume? You couldn’t remember. But you were wearing your best bra, the one that made your tits sit up pretty but god, the wire was pressing into your ribs. 

And when you got out into the streets, out of the city where it was quieter and the sky held more stars, you revelled in the cold and the silence of it all. The world seemed lighter, a little rosy, in that way that only snow in the night could mean but the roads were still clear and the threat of it seemed weak. 

Still, you hurried, arms crossed to your chest, chin tucked into your coat as you followed the directions your phone gave you, Steve’s address a bright red pin on the map, a neon beacon, a big, fat booty call. 

His building came into view after a walk through a quiet Main Street, past the line of spruce trees and locked up businesses, a sweet town hall, a trailer park that vibrated with the hum of generators. The roads led you away from the middle of Hawkins, the map telling you which left and which right until an apartment block rose up between the parks and cafes, new looking and with shiny buzzers at the front door. 

You wondered if you should text him. You wondered if you should go home. You blew out a breath, a shaky one, watched how it lingered and  froze in the air in front of you and before you could stop yourself, your finger was pressing the button for number twenty six. 

--------

Steve Harrington’s apartment door had an alarm. It was loud and shrill and incessant - and it completely ruined your escape plan. 

There was a quiet countdown as you wrestled with the front door lock, keys jingling, chain clinking and then a beepbeepbeep begun, counting down like a ticking time bomb until it blared through the rest of the apartment. You’d managed to make it back into the bed in time, just as Steve jerked awake, shirtless and messy haired. 

“Wha—?” He grabbed a bat from the side of his bed and stumbled out the bedroom door, still half asleep. And when he seemed confident no one was breaking in, he dropped the bat and fell back into the bed with a soft thwack as his face hit the pillow. “Mornin’.”

You startled, still on edge, ‘cause the night before was… fine, but you hadn’t meant to stay the night. That wasn’t the plan, that wasn’t the idea. You were lying with your coat on, wide eyed with the duvet up to your chin and you yawned, all over exaggerated drama as you stretched out. 

“Oh, good morning,” your voice was too quiet. You felt nervous all over again. “Did your alarm go off? Weird. Well, I guess I should head home.”

You were already out of bed before you’d finished talking and Steve sat up, eyebrow quirked as he took in the way you were already fully dressed, searching for your shoes. 

“Did you sleep with your jacket on?” 

“I got cold,” you lied.

He snorted, easing himself back into the sheets and he watched you with careful eyes. Steve was just as pretty in the morning as he was in the dark. “Right. Do you always leave your hookups this quick?”

You turned, frowning at the obvious amusement in his voice. “I told you last night,” you reminded him. “I haven’t done this before.” The reminder of your lack of experience made your skin itch, heat flushing over your chest. 

The sex had been okay. Nice. It was good. Nothing mind blowing, but who was expecting that from a stranger they just met? And yeah, maybe you had to fake it, ‘cause you’d been on the edge of coming so many times that eventually it refused to return. Steve had spilled into a condom, tied it off and chucked in the trash and fallen asleep before you’d come back from peeing. 

Maybe you just weren’t cut out for one night stands. Maybe that was the problem. 

Steve laughed again and it wasn’t unkind, but it still set your teeth on edge. You shoved your foot into your boot and straightened up, staring at him. “What?” He laughed again, “c’mon, you’re fully dressed and tryin’ to sneak out my apartment before it’s even time to have breakfast. You have your escape plan down pat, I respect that.”

Again, you bristled. “Um, no, I clearly don’t,” you huffed out a laugh but there wasn’t any humour in it. You gestured to the front door down the hall, still closed and locked. “I told you. This is my first time doing— this.” You saved vaguely at him and the bed. 

Steve sighed and got out of bed, a small smile playing on his lips that were still a little swollen and red from where you’d bit and kissed them the night before. He pulled on a shirt, shrugged and padded barefoot to the hallway. 

“Listen, s’nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he drawled, leading you to the front door where he punched in the code to switch off the alarm. “Girls get horny too, everyone has needs. I, for one, have absolutely no problem with a girl that knows what she wants and if that’s all you’re after then—”

“Oh my god,” you scoffed at him, lips parted, eyes wide. Suddenly escaping the apartment wasn’t as high on your list of concerns as before. “You’re totally slut shaming me!”

Steve looked at you, bewildered, face scrunched up. “What? No I’m not!”

“You are!”

“No, I’m not!” He shot back. His hand left the chain on the door, your departure forgotten about. “I’m jus’ sayin’, that it’s totally okay for you to, you know, wanna get your rocks off.”

You spluttered, incredulous. “Okay, one: rocks off? What is this, 1986? And two, I know it’s okay for me to wanna have sex with a complete stranger! I don’t need a man to confirm that for me.”

The boy stared, lips parted and a look of genuine confusion overtaking his pretty features. He grimaced and then waved a hand at you, an unfortunately dismissive gesture that had your back up even further. You set your shoulders. 

“No, no, look,” he explained. “You’re taking this the totally wrong way.”

“Oh I am?” You grinned, sharklike, edging closer for a fight. He still smelled like last night's cologne, like your perfume and sex. “Want to tell me how I should be taking it? Wanna explain it to me?”

Steve narrowed his eyes, lips lifting, a sardonic kind of smile that made your heart race too fast. “That feels like a trap.”

“Wow, ten points for the smart guy,” you snarked. “If only you were as patient as you were clever.” You jostled around him, a hand on the door. 

“What does that mean?” Steve snapped, the door clicking shut as he leaned his weight onto it, too close to you, staring down as you gazed up, chin lifted, still defiant. “Patient about what?”

You laughed, humourless and mean, ‘cause you just wanted to go home. You raised your brows, still giving the handle a jiggle despite the way Steve blocked your exit, frowning. “Yeah, okay jackhammer,” you grinned, “maybe give a girl some time to try and come before you seal the deal and pass out.”

Steve gaped at you, offended and full of shock, and you felt a little bit guilty. Sure, you hadn’t come, but only ‘cause of a timing issue, not a skill issue. But still— 

“Yeah? You wanna play it like that?” Steve shot back, pushing off of the door so he could stomp into the kitchen. He rattled in his cupboards, pulling out a coffee mug that he slammed on the worktop. “What about you? Huh? Lights off, shedding all your clothes like a damn snake person and like, what’s with the whole—” he made a lewd motion with his fingers, mimicking rubbing at the air. “Way to make a guy feel benched, sweetheart. Got me fumblin’ around in the dark like a damn blind pig.”

You scoffed, eyes narrowing to slits, the door forgotten - again. 

“Yeah, well, points for enthusiasm pig boy, maybe next time you’ll find some truffles.”

“Oh, fuck you, man.”

“Fuck you too!” You said it cheerily, despite the anger that made your throat and cheeks feel too hot, the sneer that was on your lips. “It was so nice to meet you Harrington98!” And with that, you left, door slamming shut so hard your hand vibrated, and something on Steve’s kitchen wall fell to the floor. 

You heard him swear and you smiled, the most satisfied you’d felt. 

The stairwell was freezing as you stomped down it, more frigid than the night before. All you could think about was your own bed, that didn’t smell like a pretty boy with a bad attitude, where your sheets were softer and you could watch reruns of Schitt’s Creek until you forgot Steve Harrington’s name. You were never doing this again. In fact, you were deleting the damn app. 

You scowled, rooting around your handbag for your phone, huffing when your screen stayed back, no matter how many times you tapped angrily at it. You could only imagine the texts and missed calls that would be waiting on it for you, the shrieks that would greet you when you finally got home. You hoped Nancy had made waffles. Or pancakes - Nancy made good pancakes. 

And as you were trapped in a daydream about strawberries mixed in sugar, maple syrup and cream, you shoved your shoulder mindlessly against the front door of the apartment block, wincing when it didn’t give under your weight. You frowned, trying again, both hands shoving at the wood. It budged, just a little, leaving enough of a gap for you to see the whiteout that was on the other side of it. 

You made a sound of indignation, shock making your mouth fall open and you peered out through the gap. 

No. No, no, no, no. 

Snow crept up the door like an icy landslide, covering almost half of it, the rest of the parking lot covered in what you deemed to be a couple of feet of snow. Cars were half hidden and the sky was white, blending into the ground, a blank landscape that was just barely broken up by the still falling snow. The flakes were thick and heavy, dropping down over the town with an urgency rhat told you this wasn’t letting up anytime soon. 

Fuck. 

“—dude, I’m telling you, it was like falling asleep next to a princess and waking up to a raging dragon. She was like stupid hot and all, but then she started yelling at me? And I don’t know what I’d apparently done but… Jonathan, I’m gonna have to call you back.”

Steve stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking handsome and awfully guilty as he pulled his phone from his ear and ended the call he was on. He cleared his throat and tried to avoid the narrow eyed stare you were sending him, clutching the basket of dirty clothes he was seemingly talking to the laundry room. 

“You’re still here,” he noted and his voice was overly casual. “Interesting.”

“I can’t leave,” you replied, sounding as frosty as the weather outside. “Snowstorm. Can’t get the door open.”

“What?” Steve scoffed and shoved the basket into your hands. You tutted, moving out of his way when he jostled into your space. “You’re just not doing it right.”

You made a face, disgruntled and tried not to stare at the way the boy’s arms flexed with muscle when he strained at the door. You huffed out a laugh, smug, when it still didn’t move. 

“What was that?” You smirked, more haughty that you would like to admit. “You’re not doing it right, Steve.”

The boy smiled sarcastically, narrowed eyes and annoyance on his features. He took his basket from you and tutted. “Well. Good luck.” And then he walked away. 

“You’re kidding me?!” You were almost yelling, the sound making the boy stop and turn. “You’re not just gonna leave me here, it’s like the North Pole out there, I could be here for days.”

“That seems dramatic.” Steve walked back to you, too close, his laundry basket pressed between you. He made a show of thinking it over, lips twisted, humming. “So, what? You wanna come back to mine, is that it?”

You glared at him. “Unless you want me to sit in the freezing cold hall, I don’t have any other choice.”

“You called me pig boy,” he reminded you. He was smiling. He was enjoying this. “Among other names. You’re mean, sweetheart. Why should I help you?”

You resisted the urge to smack at his shoulder, bringing your hands to your lips in a prayer position as you took a deep breath and counted to three. Smiling - albeit tightly - you took your time to also remind him: “you were literally inside of me six hours ago.”

So you found yourself back in Steve’s apartment, grudgingly, and with nowhere else to go. You rolled your eyes when he brushed past you as you stood by the door, aimless and wishing you could be anywhere else. You showed him your phone with it’s blank screen. 

“You got a charger?”

Steve pointed to a cable that was plugged in by the couch and he ignored you as you moved through the living room. He clicked on the TV, groaning when he landed on the news and saw live footage of the city, the streets covered in marshmallow soft looking snow, untouched, ‘cause nobody could get out of their damn home. The train lines were empty, the streets deserted, and the local weatherman Richard Raines was standing in a blizzard, yelling at the camera. 

“Well, folks, I hope you’ve got enough food and someone to keep you warm at night, because this snowstorm isn’t done yet!”

Steve groaned at the same time you did. 

“We’ve got more arctic winds pushing in from the east and we’re expecting more snow over the coming days. Stay home, stay safe and keep warm! We’ll do our best to update you as more news comes in from across the State. I’m Richard Raines, live from Indi—”

The TV screen blinked and blacked out as Steve chucked the remote on the couch, letting himself slump down after it. Still, you stood, coat and shoes still on, bag still over your shoulder like you had somewhere to be. 

“Make yourself at home, I guess,” Steve muttered, waving a hand at the armchair across from him. “Fuck knows when you’ll get to go your own.”

Hell. You were in hell. 

“Okay. Right. I guess… shit.” You fell down onto the armchair, head in your hands and bag clattering to the floor by your feet. Your phone was still dead, charging slowly. “I need to tell my friend where I am. She’ll be worried.” You chewed at your lip and imagined Robin, pacing the apartment, calling your cell and yelling at the voicemail.

“About the possibility of you being murdered? Or will she be devastated to know her bestie had bad sex?”

You scowled at the boy’s surly tone, hating that he still looked good as he said it. Sprawled out on his sofa, legs spread, cotton sweats low, his T-shirt covering broad shoulders and strong arms. His hair was still a riot, deliciously so and now that he’d opened his blinds, you could see the faint purple mark you must’ve sucked onto his neck. You flushed. 

“I didn’t say it was bad,” you grumbled. “Just— shut up. If we’re going to be trapped in here, can we at least agree to pretend we didn’t sleep together? For sanity’s sake?”

Steve sighed, his expression unreadable, and he stood. Chucking his phone into your lap, you watched his face soften, if only just. “Sure we can, sweetheart. Call your friend, tell her you're safe.” And then he walked into the kitchen. 

The next few hours went by in relative silence, the buzz of the TV, the whirr of Steve’s coffee machine, the two of you sitting on either end of his sofa. You’d given in and taken off your shoes and jacket after calling Robin, the girl only quietening down after she yelled about how she’d planned your funeral, her words cutting off into a hush when she realised you were still at your hook-ups house. 

“Is he hot? Was the sex mind blowing? Oh my god, this is like, insane! Are you gonna have sex all day?”

You cut off her rambling with a noise of desperation, wary of Steve nearby. You promised you’d text her when your phone came to life, that you’d fill her in on the details when you got yourself home. 

By noon, Steve asked if you were hungry, his voice a little hoarse from pointedly not speaking to you and you nodded, feeling awkward when he went to the kitchen and started clattering around. So you sheepishly followed, taking up residence on a stool at the breakfast bar. He opened his fridge and you both cringed at the lack of contents inside. 

“D’you like ramen?” He asked instead, closing the door and heading for the cupboards instead. Steve pulled out two packets of instant noodles and shook them enticingly. 

“I do,” you answered, sounding way too polite and proper, but you were starting to feel increasingly guilty about your anxiety led argument that morning. “Thank you,” you added. 

He smiled and it seemed less forced than before. “S’not like I’m gonna let you starve.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did,” you replied quietly, and you met his gaze a little reluctantly. “I was kind of a bitch.”

Steve snorted but it wasn’t as mean as his laughter earlier. He dumped the noodles in a pot and winced when the hot water bubbles angrily at him. “Kind of?”

“I was a bitch,” you confirmed, nodding with pursed lips. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Look, I wasn’t exactly nice either,” Steve waved off whatever words you were going to say next. “I’m grumpy as fuck in the morning. And stupid, like, most of the time. I didn’t mean to imply that you were—” 

He gestured vaguely, the words dying on his lips, ‘cause he was more awake now to know not to say it again. 

“Slutty?” You said for him and Steve groaned before he realised you were grinning. 

“No! No, yeah, well, fuck,” he laughed, self depreciating and low. “You’re not a slut. But if you are, good for you! You know? And I guess that would make me a slut too… so, shit, cheers to that.” He slid your bowl of noodles, hot and spicy smelling and he grinned when you clicked the offered chopsticks against his own. 

“Cheers to that,” you agreed and it felt a little like a truce. 

————

Five hours later the snow was still falling and the sky had turned back into that dark pink-red that could only mean more to come. Steve had played through too many levels of Crash Bandicoot to count, laughing and throwing half hearted tips at you, because you were clearly a lost cause when it came to video games. 

Switching from his Xbox back to the TV, you were both unsurprised to find Richard Raines back in front of Indianapolis City Hall, red nosed and standing in a flurry of white. 

“Bunker down folks! This storm is here for the night! With another sixteen inches expected by eleven o’clock, we can all—”

The TV blanked out, Richard Raines cut off once again mid speech and Steve let his head fall back onto the couch cushions. There wasn’t much room between you both now, not nearly as much as there had been early in the afternoon and as you looked over at him, you were reminded of why you hooked up with him in the first place. 

God, he was stupidly pretty. 

He huffed out a tired sigh and pushed the gaming controller to the side, blinking before turning to look over at you, cheek pressed to the couch cushions. Steve was all floppy hair and honeyed eyes, five o’clock shadow and sharp cheekbones, a sharper jaw. 

You regretted not kissing him more when you had the chance. 

“Hey,” he murmured. “Wanna get high?”

....

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

They had just finished up band practice when Vickie overheard Jordan and Brandon talking about Eddie Munson. Robin had walked out already, promising to wait outside the band hall for her.

"I don't know, man, I still think Eddie did it," Jordan said.

"They wouldn't have let him back into school if they thought he was still a murderer, Jordan," Brandon said.

"They were willing to ignore the fact that he was selling drugs, man," Jordan said.

"It's just weed," Brandon sighed and rolled his eyes.

"No, I heard he sells special K too," Jordan said. "That's the date rape drug. I wouldn't be surprised if he was using it on those kids in his club."

"Hey, Jordan," Vickie snapped.

She was seeing red. She had never been this angry in her entire life. She had been hanging out with Robin a lot lately, trying to work up the courage to ask her out. Hanging out with her meant hanging out with Robin's friends, and she's enjoyed hanging out with them. She's seen the way Eddie was with Dustin and his friends, the way he was willing to own up to the mistakes he did make. He didn't have a killer bone in his entire body.

"Shit, Vickie's pissed. Have you ever seen her pissed?" Jordan asked with wide eyes.

"Nope, and it looks like it's directed at you, pal," Brandon said.

"Hey, Vickie," Jordan smiled gently.

"Jordan, your dad's a pharmaceutical salesman, right?" Vickie asked, trying to remain level-headed.

"Yeah?" Jordan asked.

"Well, what's the difference between what he does and what Eddie does?" Vickie asked.

"Well, his drugs aren't illegal," Jordan scoffed. "And he doesn't use them to kill people."

"Dude," Brandon said and gave him a warning look.

"He and Steve Harrington are awfully chummy. Bet they use the drugs on Buckley to - ,"

All Vickie could see was red, and before she knew it, her fist was flying into his face. Her eyes widened when his head snapped back, and blood started to gush from his nose.

"The difference is that yes, the drugs are illegal," Vickie said, shaking. "Some of your dad's drugs are addictive and some aren't, just like Eddie's. What makes them the same is the fact that they can't know what someone's going to do with them, so the fact that Eddie sells drugs has shit to do with what happened. You don't know what happened because you don't know Eddie. He could never hurt a fly."

"You're crazy, just like -," but Jordan was interrupted.

"Hey!" Brandon snapped. "You were being a douchebag, so much so that sweet, calm Vickie Fisher punched you in the face. If anyone asks, I'm going to tell them you tripped, and no one will believe you that you got punched by Vickie because I'm pretty sure that most everyone in here has her back. Go on, Vickie, I'll deal with this asshole."

"Thanks, Brandon," Vickie said softly.

She was running on pure adrenaline when she walked up to Robin. She was leaning against Steve’s car, talking to both Steve and Eddie. There was no one else around when Vickie popped up beside Robin.

"Hey, Fishie," Eddie grinned.

Normally, she would tell Eddie off affectionately for calling her that, but she left it alone this time.

"Robin, do you want to go out with me?" Vickie asked, knowing already that she was out to Steve and Eddie.

Eddie squealed, gasped, and held onto Steve.

"Stevie, it's happening!" Eddie said excitedly.

"I know!" Steve grinned.

"Uh. . .yeah. Yes, I would very much like to go out with you," Robin grinned, blushing.

Vickie grinned and slipped her arm through Robin's.

"So, what made you decide to ask out our dear sweet Birdie?" Eddie asked.

Vickie opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by Jordan approaching them. His nose was red, and he had missed a few spots of blood, but he suddenly looked apologetic.

"Uh, Vickie? I just wanted to apologize. I realize now that I was talking shit about stuff I know nothing about. I said some awful things about your friends. I know that now. I'm sorry," Jordan said. "You have a mean right hook, by the way."

Before she could say something, he was walking away.

"Ah, so it was adrenaline after you defended Robin's honor," Eddie said.

"Not just Robin's, yours too, Eddie," Vickie blushed.

"Aw, Fishie," Eddie said, squishing her face. "You don't have to do that. That's what I have Steve for."

"That is not what you have Steve for," Steve replied, and Vickie giggled.

Robin leaned her head against hers.

"I want to kiss you so badly," Robin whispered.

"Boys, argue later. Let's get out of here!" Vickie exclaimed.

Of course, as soon as they drove off with Vickie and Robin in the backseat, Vickie was capturing Robin's lips with hers. She could hear Eddie wolf whistle, then Steve scolding him. Robin started laughing against her lips, causing Vickie to do the same.

[outofmydepthatapublicbeach]

to fall in deeper - Julien Baker x lacy!reader

jj chats: this has been one of the longest things ive written on this account and i am very proud of it!!! i hope this lives up to any expectations!!! also i recommend reading the first part before reading this it is linked here!

word count: almost 2000!!!

warnings: RPF, use of y/n, reader is a musician/famous, julien is kinda mean, someone passes out (not the reader, the boys or muna), reader calls julien 'jay'.

inspired by the request: i lovvved your love Julien fic based on lacy SO much!!! you’re crazy talented <3 would you consider writing more parts of it? 🎀🩷 like maybe how julien falls more and more in love and maybe an eventual angry love confession from julien, and their first date/kiss?

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

When MUNA went on tour, they asked their dear friends to perform as openers. It was on billboards and spread across social media: “Boygenius and (Y/N): openers for The Greatest Band in the World”. All parties were ebullient, another few months of music, laughter, and fun. Everyone except Julien Baker, Julien wasn’t pleased when she found out you were the other opener. She despised the feeling she got in her gut when your name was mentioned, she couldn’t decide what it meant. She was torn between it being contempt or admiration. She didn’t like not knowing, she didn’t like the fact she couldn’t figure you out, let alone figure out her own feelings for you. 

So far the tour had been faring well. There were huge crowds showing up every night, all screaming out the lyrics to their favorite MUNA hits. Everything was going well, until August 6th, a Friday night. It was exceptionally hot and it was starting to take a toll on the musicians. However  they were all pushing through, they had loud fans backstage that gave them some relief from the heat and could basically get away with no shirt on stage. So far, the night was going well, besides the heat. Lucy and Julien sat in front of a large fan, while Phoebe and you stood in front of another one. MUNA was performing on stage, while you all waited until the last song, “Silk Chiffon” . It was always a nice surprise to the fans when you four came bobbing up on stage singing along, dancing with one another. 

Phoebe sighed, turning towards you “Want to go back with me to get some water?”

Your eyes darted to the right, where your water bottle stood proud and tall, still about half full. “No Pheobs I’m okay! I’ll walk with you though!” 

“Oh no dude you’re good,” The platinum blond turned to Lucy and proposed the same question.

“Yeah my water ran out like 5 minutes ago,” Lucy hopped up from her seat, moving towards an already upright Phoebe who was wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, sweat droplets rolling off. “Be right back guys!” 

Before they turned the corner you checked the time and yelled to the singers “I think there's only two more songs till Silk Chiffon so hurry!” Lucy and Phoebe nodded to you and continued their walk to wherever they were storing the water bottles. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Julien rolling her eyes.

You turned your body to hers, you ignored her obvious irritation towards you and smiling you asked, “You good Julien? I got some water if you need it!”

“Yeah I’m fine. Thanks.” The tattooed woman replied, curtly. 

“Ohhhkay,” you said, confused by her tone. You thought for a minute going back over the day to see if you did anything that would warrant that reaction. You couldn’t find anything, but you did remember how Julien really hadn’t ever been that cordial to you, not since that night outside the restaurant where she found you crying. In a moment of panic you asked the woman sitting 5 feet from you, “Did I do something?”

Julien turned towards you, obviously dumbstruck by your question. She hesitated before responding, you could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes, “No, you didn’t do anything.”

Quickly you replied, desperate to figure out where you went wrong. “You act weird around me.”

You could see a flash of panic move over Julien;s face before it was replaced with a look of annoyance. “How do I act weird around you?” Julien asked as if it was the most absurd sentence you could have chosen to have said. 

“You don’t talk to me ever, you avoid me, you don’t reply to my texts in the groupchat. Yesterday on stage you avoided me every chance you got. I get that we aren’t really close but do you have to pretend like I’m not even there? Like I don’t even matter?” Your voice started to strain towards the end of your dialogue, you could feel your eyes start to water.

“I-I don’t-” 

Julien was cut off by a very energetic Phoebe who came skipping backstage.  “We’re on stage in like a minute guys! Grab your mics!” 

You quickly got up, blinking back your tears as you approached a table, grabbing a mic. You settled your breathing as Lucy came up to you. “You okay?” She asked, voice laced with worry.

“Mhm! I’m fine! I think the heat is just getting to me!” You replied, your voice steady. You’re honestly surprised at how fast you pulled yourself together.

MUNA was on stage finishing up their second to last song for the night when Katie yelled into her microphone, “Thank you all for such a gorgeous night! We have one last song! Can you all welcome our guests to the stage please?” The crowd begins to go crazy. 

One by one the 4 of you run out on stage as the band starts playing “Silk Chiffon”. Your eyes scan over the crowd, everyone is having an amazing time, they all look tired, but in a euphoric concert driven tiredness. Until you spot one girl near the front of the barricade. She looks as if she's about to pass out, and the people around her don’t seem to notice. You brush it off, but decide to keep an eye on her just in case something happens.

As the band starts to play the music fills your body, heating your veins with electricity. You move the mic to your mouth as you sing background for Katie. This was always one of your favorite parts of the show, the harmony between all of your voices, the feeling of being alive and showing it through music. Phoebe rushes up to you and grabs your wrist, twirling you around and smiling wide at you. She leans in and gives you a kiss on your cheek before your bodies find natural sync, dancing together. Everything always gets too chaotic when the 7 of you are all on stage. AS your eyes move from  Phoebes to the rest of the talent on stage you spot Julien glaring at you, your cheeks redden and you can’t distinguish whether it's from the heat or the shorter woman's dangerous stare.

Suddenly you remember that girl in the audience and when you look back to her place, you see her almost going limp, merely held up by the sweating bodies around her. Immediately your mind moves fast, remembering your highschool first aid lessons on heat stroke. Your brain quickly runs down her obvious symptoms and realizes it could be severe dehydration or worse, heat stroke. You quickly let go of Phoebe's arm and run backstage to grab a water bottle and someone to help you. 

Phoebe is confused, her eyes follow you backstage until she sees you grab a bottle of water. Too caught up in the moment she thinks you need a drink. She assumes nothing is wrong and then goes over to Jo to dance with her. The others don't realize your absence, too caught up in the song. Except Julien.

Julien was keeping a close eye on you when you were on stage, she saw every time you glanced at that specific spot in the barricade. Though she didn’t follow you, not until you suddenly appeared on the lawn in front of the stage with a medical professional and a security guard. 

You run to the dehydrated woman and then help her get to a cooler spot, and give her small sips of water to hydrate her. You couldn’t care less about the concert at that point, too concentrated on making sure this person was alright. 

Julien’s stomach started to churn, once again you were proving to her that you were perfect. There wasn’t anything Julien could flaw you on at this point. You stopped singing in the middle of a concert to go and take care of someone in need. How could she avoid her true feelings now? 

The song came to a close, and the bands lined up, wrapping their arms around each other's waists and bowing. Naomi, Jo and Katie blew kisses to the crowd and then they all walked offstage, a concert well performed. 

As Phoebe looked backstage she didn’t see you. She turned to the group and asked, “Did anyone see where (Y/N) went?” 

It came as a surprise to everyone when Julien answered, “They went to help someone in the audience, I saw them with medical.” 

Everyone nodded, Jo hoped the person was okay. Katie and Naomi went to ask someone about what had happened. It wasn’t soon after that you showed up.

Walking back to where you had just appeared from, Naomi and Katie both asked you “What happened?”

You told them that “Some girl in the barricade got really dehydrated and passed out, but she’s alright now!” 

A sigh of relief was heard from all 6 people, relieved that everyone was okay. Small chit chat was made until Jo spoke up “Okay I don’t know about you guys but it is hot as hell out here and I am going somewhere with air conditioning!”

“Finally someone said it!”

“Thank god I was starting to think I’d melt,”

Naomi, Katie, Lucy, and Phoebe dispersed after Jo, all talking about some record they’d listened to recently or where to get takeout from.

Julien stayed behind, and just as you were about to follow after the others she caught your arm. You turned towards her, “What’s up Jay?” The nickname leaves your lips in a second before you could think to not say it. 

Julien looked at you strangely and let go of your arm, not really realizing she had grabbed it in the first place. Another round of butterflies flew through her body as you looked at her questioningly.. “That was super cool what you did for that girl. Leaving mid song I mean.” 

You sighed, you were starting to get frustrated with her antics. Did she loathe you? Were you two friends? It seemed every other minute her feelings towards you changed. It was confusing the hell out of you. “Thanks.” You clipped, starting to walk away.

“That’s it?” Julien asked from behind you.

As you turned back around you noticed she stood as if trying to make her 5 foot frame seem taller, not that it was working. “What?”

“‘Thanks.’ That’s all you're gonna say? Normally you're much more chatty,” Julien laughed.

“I don’t know what you want from me Julien.” 

Julien pauses, looking at you with questions written all over her face.

“When I talk to you, you get snippy and you’re mean. When I don’t talk to you, you want me to talk more. I don’t get what your deal is with me?” You whisper-yelled, afraid someone from the crew would see your argument.

“I-” Julien stuttered, not being able to come up with anything to say.

Finally done with the back and forth banter that has been hurting your feelings ever since you met Julien you declared, “If you don’t want to be my friend just say it.”

Julien looked at you, eyes wide. You watched her as the gears turned in her head, trying to come up with what to say. You gave her a chance to explain herself, you set a mental timer of 30 seconds, if she didn’t say anything then you would go away. 

Those 30 seconds flew by without a peep from Julien, your eyes teared up as you spoke, “Fine, I’ll see you later I guess.” Turning around you went to your tour bus, wondering what you did to get Julien to dislike you so.

The only thing going through Julien’s mind was how she screwed up, bad.

[petit-naldo]

JEALOUSY

Charles had never experienced jealousy. When you were Charles Leclerc, there were very few things you had a reason to be jealous of. Don’t get me wrong, he had his fair share of tragedies. But when it came to petty jealousy, he was kind of immune.

He had the prettiest girls, the best clothes, the best cars, the best team.

He had the prettiest girls, the best clothes, the best cars, the best team.

So it takes him a moment to realize what that burning feeling in his chest stands for.

It happens, for example, when Carlos is holding Lando's hand AND looking at him for what feels like an eternity in the hallway before the sprint. And this strange feeling makes him uncomfortable and angry, so he tries to intervene. And he does it in the stupidest way possible.

He puts his hand on their handshake. Because he's getting angrier by the second.

He just wants them to stop touching.

Of course, there are cameras capturing his stupid move.

He doesn't really know why he did it.

 He's known for a very long time that Carlos and Lando are really good friends, it never bothered him more than that. But lately they seemed to have some kind of renewed spark, giggling and hugging on the podium.

Even though Carlos said they're his two favorite teammates.

It still bothers him.

 Yeah, right. It's the fourth year, Carlos, and we've been laughing every damn day, why can't you say I'm your favorite teammate?

Maybe something changed last week in Monaco. In fact, if Charles is honest with himself, he knows exactly what ignited a little fireball in his belly. It was right after the Monte Carlo Masters final. He was talking to George and Carmen in the VIP hospitality area. George was a good friend of Lando's. Of course, because Lando was so charming. Lando sitting with a pretty blonde across the court. And George, always the first with gossip, smiled and raised his eyebrows.

"So, he’s back to girls...," Carmen laughs as if she perfectly understands what it means. And Charles frowns.

"What do you mean?"

"You know," answers George, moving his face in a suggestive way.

"Mmh, ah yeah," answers Charles, who really DOESN’T know but can’t really imagine anything besides one thing. Is Lando bi ?

He can’t keep this idea out of his head. So one night in Shanghai, while he and Carlos are sat on boxes outside the Ferrari garage, softly chit-chatting and the dusk is wrapping them in blue and purple and the frogs are starting to wake up, he tries to bring up the subject as casually as he can.

He first pushes the direction of the conversation towards the tournament.

"Weren’t you a bit disappointed? I think the semi-finals were more interesting matches."

Carlos answers and says it’s okay, but what he’d really like to do is go to Roland Garros. Watch Nadal's final game. Shit. Charles prompts again, redirecting.

"Were you with Lando?"

"No, he was with a girl." Jackpooot. He switches with what he hopes is the most casual tone he could adopt.

"Oh yeah, it’s true... by the way, ahah, George told me he was surprised because… well, he said Lando used to… date boys."

"Ah, George, such a nosy bitch," Carlos says, looking at his phone without bothering to respond any further.

Charles bites his lip. He wants his answer. He NEEDS his answer to ease the ball of fire he feels growing in his chest. Charles doesn’t know how to be subtle.

"So, Lando is bi?" he blushes because really, it’s nowhere near subtle.

"Why do you care?" asks Carlos, suddenly looking at him intensely.

Charles falters, luckily, the night is fully set upon them because his face might be close to crimson, and he blurts out the first excuse he can think of.

"A gay friend of mine has a crush on him."

He never panicked so hard, it’s weird, he’s usually a chill dude. But his heart is at the edge of his lips. A wave of heat floods him, and his breath shortens.

"Who?" Carlos asks, frowning. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"You don’t know him. From Monaco." He clings to this thread. Fortunately, his overheated mind found this excuse because Charles has no friends who know Lando and that Carlos doesn’t know, and if Carlos had realized that, it would have made the rest of the conversation very uncomfortable.

Luckily, after what feels like suffocating seconds, Carlos lets it go with a grunt and shakes his shoulders.

"Yeah, he is… well, if you consider showing up with a girl once every blue moon, being bi."

SO LANDO IS GAY???

He feels that sting, that crazy sting clouding his mind, making him act like a foolish fool and he watches himself open his mouth again to utter, "Oh...I didn’t know, if you knew."

"Ha…," scoffs Carlos, shaking his head, letting his eyes gaze into the faraway... "oh believe me, I know."

Charles knows he should shut the fuck up. But he can't because this sentence alone and the tone with which Carlos said it, stir up a thousand more questions. He should leave before it's too late. He’s already asked too much.

He isn’t close enough with Lando to keep pushing, for his curiosity to make sense.

But nonetheless he asks.

"How did you find out?"

"Mmh… " Carlos looks at him a bit surprised by his questions. Usually Charles isn't the kind to ask personal questions. "I’m not really comfortable sharing his personal stuff, Charles."

The "Charles" should be his cue to fucking stop pushing. Because Carlos said it in a way that doesn’t offer contradiction.

But he is stupid. He is the most stupid man to ever exist. So he fakes a laugh.

"Come on, Cahrlos, tell me, I’m your favorite teammate " He tries to be playful, but he so desperately needs to know that it must be really obvious in his tone. He feels cringe and shameful and immature and he wants to burry himself into the ground.

But he also wants the answer.

"Why," laughs Carlos, "your friend wants to know?"

And Charles backs down. He isn't brave enough.

"You’re right, I shouldn’t gossip like that, damn George really rubs off on me."

They keep chatting about tennis. He tries to focus on Carlos deep voice to avoid getting lost on thoughts about Lando.

But that night, as he lies in bed, the overthinking starts.

He keeps replaying the conversation, trying to extract from it every bit of info he can.

"Oh yes, believe me I know" - why this tone, why this almost tragic tone, melancholic.

Ideas start to swirl.

Did Carlos stumble upon Lando being with a boy? Did Lando make a move on Carlos? Did Carlos make a move on him? Could Carlos have done something with… no, no, no, Charles, come back to your senses.

He lies awake.

The little ball of fire starts swelling in his chest at the thought of Lando being near Carlos.

But that’s stupid.

Because Carlos is straight.

And Carlos is only friend with Lando.

He is.

Is he?

Isn’t it weird though how close and touchy they are?

Well, Carlos is a touchy guy.

But especially with Lando.

And him.

No, but it’s not the same.

Charles is straight.

Maybe after an exhausting sim session back when they were teammates he and Lando could have…

NO !

Carlos is straight.

S t r a i g h t.

But maybe he tried.

Or maybe one day he will.

Lando is not ugly.

Not as pretty as Charles, but…

Charles shakes his head.

C’mon, is he really judging other drivers’ looks now?

But then, the weekend happens and he notices Carlos staying glued to Teto.

And Carlos makes a joke about Teto being his WAG on Instagram.

Carlos is way too comfortable with every other boy around.

Charles tries to reassures himself about what ? he doesn't know.

He says to himself that it’s okay.

Because there is no one else’s waist Carlos puts his hand on while he walks.

And it was a real close hug during the shell event. No ?

What?

Jesus Christ, Charles, get your shit together. He’d really like to take some time to acknowledge what the fuck is going on inside his mind. What are his feelings for Carlos, does he really have a crush on him. That would be a very bad idea. And he is straight. As Carlos. Supposedly.

Anyway, he can’t because 90% of his brain is focused on the race and the ten other % are literally occupied by… okay, he wanted to call that rage ? But it’s that burning itch making him want to punch every man too close to Carlos. Making him want to act like an imbecile just so Carlos would look at him.

It takes up too much space in his mind to let anything else in. He scooches alongside the Spaniard anytime he can. He develops weird strategies to be sure he’s next to him during the parade.

He keeps an eye on Lando at all times. He scrolls down Teto’s Instagram and re-watches the Don’t Blink on YouTube. Clenching his teeth at the winter one. Carlos lifting him like that, like a feather.

Teto acting exactly like a wag, getting along with Sainz Sr, sitting near Carlos in restaurants,

Teto, who is actually very pretty. Shiny golden hair. Big eyes.

When Charles sees him leaning against a railing above one of the numerous ponds of the Shanghai paddock, he has the urge to throw him overboard.

Maybe a crocodile could eat him. Are there crocodiles in Shanghai ?

That way, he would never again hold Carlos’s shoulder while laughing.

Then the weekend is over.

He looks through the window of the plane. Today he flies back to Monaco. He has been a nightmare to deal with, yelling at everybody. He feels restless and irritated.

Yet the weekend has been good. Everything ran smoothly. Carlos had even congratulated him for the third place, gave him a hug. But after, at the corner of his eyes, he had seen him hugging Lando, holding him by the neck. Diving into one of their secret conversations.

And just a few hours later. He had heard they were flying back together on the same plane.

TOWARDS MONACO.

He goes to Monaco too!!! He is Monegasque! Why can’t Carlos ask him to fly with HIM? Why Lando? Always Lando! Insufferable, childish, giggly, never-won-a-race Lando!

HE is il predestinato, HE is Ferrari’s sacred child! He is nice, and every girl are at his feet.

He slides a hand over his face. He feels like he's going crazy. What is this fury burning in his chest for days?

But he doesn’t need to think about it for long.

It’s pretty obvious.

It is well…

Jealousy.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

the second act (not old enough ch.2)

pairing: leon kennedy/reader

cw: smut, age gap, mild daddy kink, oral f!receiving

summary: reader and Leon have a another little rendezvous a few months after their first. You're both sober this time and the ambiance is nicer, but is it enough for you two to become something more?

word count: 3.5k

ao3 link

Leon’s in a ballroom, mingling with government officials and other people whose names he won’t remember the next day. He’s dead sober, and all it gives him is hyper awareness of the fact that everyone who shakes his hand would throw him to the wolves and watch like a spectator sport. He knows that by now. He’s not the baby-faced rookie he once was, not so trusting, not like you. He’s knows he’s the best agent, not the best friend.

When he sees you, you’re wearing an elegant dress, something he’d never imagined you in. You look gorgeous, too - that was the one thing about you that hadn’t changed. You were always beautiful, no matter what you chose to wear. It wasn’t Leon’s opinion, it was a fact. He was sure of it.

You were chatting with other attendees, with a smile as fake as his. It takes one to know one, he thought, she’s a great liar. You’re playfully touching some older douchebag who looks familiar to Leon, but he can’t quite place him when every person here has their suits tailored by the same guy.

You catch his eye while he’s staring at you, not even gawking, but thinking, you can see he’s confused. Leon’s got his elbow on the table, pretending to drink, but it’s only seltzer in the glass. That secret’s between him and the bartender.

You make an excuse to leave the men you’re with for a moment, jogging excitedly towards Leon in a way that forces a smile from his stubborn mouth. It’s not even about him, you’re just cute in a way that’s so foreign to him. He learned cynicism so early, he’s been sucked dry of that type of sweetness, the kind you radiate.

He was probably the same at 18, but his memory is foggy for about a million reasons, none of them being alcohol anymore. Sobriety is still something he’s working on getting used to.

He stops you before you hug him with a gentle interrogation.

“Why are you here?” He’s neither happy, nor angry. It’s mostly confusion, maybe awe at how you can mold yourself so well to this atmosphere, too.

“Same reason anyone is, I guess,” You say with your typical nonchalance.

“What reason might that be?”

“To jerk each other off in the hopes of favors in the form of cash, status, or maybe even literal jerk off sessions.”

“Thought you’d say something different, but you’re smarter than I expected. How’d you get here? What age did you tell the bartender you were?” He points to the glass in your hand, half-empty.

“My date got it for me.”

“Your date, huh?”

“Yeah,” you can’t hide a sour face when you mention him.

“Not a match?”

“Never thought it would be.”

“So you’re here for cash or status? Since you clearly don’t wanna fuck that dude.”

“Cash,” you say, in a whisper, “I hate saying that. I don’t wanna be this ‘sugar baby’ or whatever. I just -”

“Hey, I get it. No judgment from me. You gotta do what you can to get by.”

You change the subject because your life isn’t the most comfortable or interesting topic for you.

“You seem very sober tonight?” You ask.

“I am.” Leon’s small smile is a proud one. “You seem more sober than the last time I saw you.”

“Yeah,” you say, heat rising to your cheeks, remembering things you did when you were drunk, “Thanks for making me take a cab home. I don’t wanna think about what else I would’ve done.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m thinking about calling you one now.”

“I’m not leaving, though.”

“You should be.”

“I bet you used to drink at my age, too. Can’t you just get off my back about it?”

“I don’t care about that. Listen, a lot of the men here are not good guys. I don’t want something bad to happen to you.”

“You’re not my dad.”

“Thank god. I’d be doing a shitty job if I were. Letting you go out and have sex with a stranger in a bathroom stall.”

“Hey! You did it, too. And you liked it.”

“You didn’t?”

You took a large swig of your champagne.

“That’s what I thought.” Leon gave you a smug smile. “Had you practically screaming.”

“Maybe I’m just easy,” you shrug and pause before saying, “or maybe I was faking it.”

“Yeah, you are easy, but you weren’t faking it, sweetheart. I have enough experience in that department to know the difference.”

“Oh? So you’ve had girls fake it with you?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t always good at it.”

Even though the sex you’d had with him was dirty, literally and figuratively, you loved it. It would’ve been better if there'd been a romantic ambiance. It would’ve been better if Leon was sober like he was right then, standing in front of you. He was so much hotter this way. Irresistible.

With a few more drinks, you’d get on your knees and beg him to take you into the nearest bathroom and do it all again, but you could maintain composure after only one glass.

You weren’t going to drink more anyway, not because you cared what Leon said, but because you wanted to remember the way he looked in that suit.

He gave you a knowing smile. “Whatcha thinkin' about?”

“Nothin’,” You said, turning to face the other way, hiding your embarrassment.

“Mhm.”

Leon was going to keep teasing you because the faces you made were so cute, but he wasn’t going to give into your charms this time. He would make sure you got home safe and that would be all.

Everything would be different if you were a little older. Sure, his sobriety would still give him the rationale he needed not to fuck you senseless in an adjacent room, but maybe you’d come over to his place after a real date. He’d take you out to dinner first because that’s what you deserve. You don’t deserve whatever this is, especially when you don’t understand how bad it is.

Your conversation alone feels precarious to him. You both have to lean in close to speak like every word is gossip, and in a way, it is, or it would be if it got passed around, and that’s the problem with the game you’re playing. Leon isn’t sure whether he’d get high fives or a stern talking to at the office if anyone found out about you, and he didn’t want either.

He didn’t want to take you home, not in that way, but he saw the way that other men looked at you, and it didn’t feel like an act of jealousy, it was protection. They’d hurt you, they’d use you. But what was he doing?

You were an enigma in Leon’s mind and maybe that’s what excited him. He couldn’t fit you into any box. You weren’t his girlfriend, you weren’t his friend, you weren’t his fuck-buddy - it was something entirely different.

The moment he first spoke to you the line had been crossed. He was already on the other side of it. Every move he made was wrong. Any choice was a bad one. Leaving you alone, telling you to fuck off, was just sending you to another man, one who’d treat you much worse. Yet, allowing you to stay, linger there beside him, even worse, allow himself to enjoy your presence - wasn’t he the same as the old creep across the room?

Later that night, Leon has you in a hotel room he hadn’t planned on booking. The employee at the front desk knew what you were going upstairs to do. You were both clearly antsy, unprepared to stay, and coming from a social gathering. She stared right through you and saw the future you hadn’t yet.

Leon gets you both a nice room because he’s too old to skimp on things like a nice bed to sleep in - he’ll wake up with back pain if he tries. He told you at the gala that you were getting separate beds, but ended up in a king sized bed with you. He couldn’t even be mad.

You were eager to get your hands on him the moment the door shut, but Leon stopped you, gently grabbing your wrists.

“If we’re doing this again, we’re doing it right this time,” he said, holding your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He looks like he’s not sure whether to lecture you or kiss you.

“Did we mess it up last time? I thought you were experienced.”

“Yeah, we fucked up big time.”

“It’s a good thing we’re doing it again then.”

“No, it’s not,” he whispers into your mouth, kissing you softly.

You knew what it was like to have him so deep inside you that you could feel him hitting your cervix, but this was the first time you’d felt the way he could tease you with only the tip of his tongue.

He would brush his tongue gently over yours and pull back when you tried to reciprocate. It was agonizing, yet tantalizing. If your hands weren’t fiddling with his belt buckle, you’d grab his face and force his lips against yours.

When he caught you trying to unbuckle his belt, he gently took your hands away, and whispered into your ear, “Don’t get greedy.”

You felt the tickle of his stubble against your cheek and then his teeth grazing your neck, threatening to leave marks on your skin, but that would risk the secret rendezvous becoming local news.

His hands were wrapped around your waist, and he guided you backwards to the bed. It took only a few steps backward for the backs of your legs to hit the bed frame, making you topple onto your back on the plush duvet. You expected Leon’s figure looming over you, so when he tried to stand, you took him by the lapels. He let you pull him in for one kiss, giving you only an ounce of the passion he had for you.

“Mm-mm,” he shook his head, pulling back from your lips, making you pout.

He laughed lightly at you, “Patience. You’re gonna like this.”

You wanted to say something snarky back, tell him he didn’t know what you liked yet, tell him you liked his lips on yours, but then he sank to his knees in front of you, next to the bed. He watched your expression shift from irritation to awe, relief, gratitude.

“Spread your legs,” he said, giving you the opportunity to comply before he pushed them apart himself.

Leon took off your heels for you, unbuckling them gently and placing them on the floor with such care. You already felt spoiled before his mouth was placing wet kisses up your ankles to your thighs all the way to the lace trim of your panties. You groaned at the first press of his lips against your clit through the fabric. You couldn’t even blame it on the drunkenness.

He wanted to laugh at how delicate you were, how quickly he could get you to break.

Sliding your panties down your legs, he asked, “Did you wear these for me?”

“Do you like them?”

“Love them,” he said, slipping them into his pocket.

Leon stood up and watched betrayal wash over your face.

“Hold on,” he chuckled, “Don’t get mad yet.”

He took off his jacket and tie, while you watched.

“Just don’t want anyone ruining my best suit,” he mumbled.

Your cheeks were burning, knowing that you were already soaking wet and could very well have left a stain on his suit.

He paid no mind to your embarrassment, though. His gaze was fixed between your thighs, only coming up to meet your eyes when he was on his knees again, so he could watch you melt. He kissed everywhere except for where you really wanted it. His lips and tongue trailed along your thighs and hips, and you thought his teasing would be endless.

“Please, Mr. Kennedy,” you begged.

“Just wanted to see how long it would take for you to say it.”

The noise you made when his tongue made contact with your clit was obscene. You felt him laugh into your core, making you even more embarrassed. Nothing mattered, though, once he dedicated himself to going down on you. He kissed you with a kind of reverence not even your lips had felt. Normally, you’d find the sounds of your wetness embarrassing, but hearing the way he savored the taste of you was sexy.

He didn’t have any further remarks to make you hot and bothered. He needed nothing to push your buttons because you were giving him every reaction he wanted. Leon let you tug on his hair, despite the fact that he would rarely let anyone near it. You didn’t need to force him to do anything though because he was giving you exactly what you wanted, a determination, a devotion to this like no other man before.

For once you were trying not to come because it felt so good you couldn’t stand the idea of losing the feeling. You only ended up lasting five minutes at maximum, but neither of you were counting.

You tried to warn him that you were close, but all that came out was incoherent babbling, which quickly turned to sobs of relief. You were on the verge of tears while your arousal was soaking his face. He led you through your orgasm with his soft lips, and then stood up and leaned over you, meeting you face to face. You weren’t sure whether you should feel gratitude or embarrassment when you saw his messy hair and plump red lips, but he smiled and kissed you on the cheek, giving you the “my pleasure” to the “thank you” on the tip of your tongue.

Leon stepping back to take off his belt felt like a cue for you to get on your knees, but watching you get up off the bed, Leon said, “Leaving already?”

He wouldn’t have been mad if you were, as long as you got home safe.

“No, I was gonna return the favor.”

“It wasn’t a favor. I enjoyed myself, too.”

“Letting me down easy? I promise I’ll do a good job.”

“I’m not doubting your abilities, but that’s not what I want right now.”

Truthfully, he would feel wrong doing it. It wouldn’t be sexy to see the innocence in your eyes. It would feel criminal, like he was corrupting you in an irreversible manner.

“What do you want right now?”

You wanted to make him unfold in front of you, so you could level the playing field.

“You know what I want. Unless, you’re tired.”

The dazed look in your eyes lingered, and ever the worrier, Leon needed to know that you were still fully into this.

“I’m not tired.”

“Don’t need a break?”

“It’s been like five minutes,” you whined, “That’s a long enough break.”

“I thought an orgasm would satisfy you, at least for a bit, but you’re still so impatient.”

“You can’t just stand there almost naked and expect me not to want you.”

“You don’t need to flatter me. You already have me.”

Desperation coursed through your veins, causing you to whine, “Oh my god, Leon, just fuck me already!”

Leon looked at you wide-eyed, a smirk of amusement barely concealed by a stern expression on his face. You weren’t on a last name basis, but he hadn’t expected the first time you’d say his first name would be in a sentence so demanding and naughty. It felt like insubordination, even though it wasn’t.

“I didn’t expect you to have such a dirty mouth,” he said, stepping towards you slowly.

Your nerves were high but your arousal was higher.

When he didn’t get a response from you, he said, “You’re going all quiet on me now, huh? Pretending to be a good girl again?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kennedy…”

There was something inside of you that needed him to be proud of you, but the apology was still mostly in the hopes of gaining what you wanted.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, pretty girl,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You looked at him through dewy, yet grateful eyes.

“You can’t help it when you’re like this, right?”

His fingers started playing with your pussy again, feeling your evident arousal, which hadn’t subsided post-orgasm.

You nodded, giving him a pitiful, yet adorable look.

“Please…” you said, after a beat of silence, minus the sounds of your wetness.

“Please what?”

“Please, Mr. Kennedy…”

He smiled and laughed lightly, realizing you assumed he wanted respect rather than clarification.

“No, baby, I want you to ask for what you want,” he said, brushing your hair out of your face and rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“I want you,” you said, barely being able to think with his hands still touching you.

“Okay, I wanna go slow, though, yeah?”

You nodded, wanting it now, in whatever fashion he would give it to you.

You thought slow sex was boring sex until Leon came into your life. He brought a heightened passion to every encounter regardless of the speed of his thrusts. His lips were on yours, capturing every breath until he couldn’t stand the thought of not hearing your pretty noises.

His kisses trailed down your cheek to your jaw to your neck all delicate. His breath in your ear telling you how beautiful you looked and how good you were being. His words made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, but his fingers brushing your nipples made your back arch off the mattress. Not to mention the slow strokes of his dick, coaxing needy moans from your mouth.

You thought you’d be begging for it harder and faster, but every thrust inside you felt deeper and that was beyond satisfying. Soon, your legs were pressed up against your chest and he was so deep inside you that you could see his dick in your abdomen with every thrust. The feeling of him hitting that sensitive spot inside you was bringing you closer to the edge, but the sight was what was making your eyes roll back into your head.

Leon saw how close you were and he whispered to you, sweet and sexy all in one, “I can feel you squeezing around me, baby. You gonna come for me?”

You wanted to say, “Uh-huh”, but it came out as a strangled moan and then, “Daddy!” as you came.

He ignored the slight pang of guilt that came with the word for a moment to let himself drink in the overpowering feeling of pleasure. His orgasm following yours quickly.

Lying next to you, after you both came back from oblivion, he asked the dreaded question, “Did you call me ‘Daddy’?”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean to. It just came out. Did it make you feel weird?”

“A little, but it was hot. I think you could’ve said anything coming out of your mouth would be hot, though.”

Leon holds you while you sleep and tries to forget about any lingering guilt he feels after you call him daddy. Your warm body pressed against his and the feeling of your steady heartbeat and soft breathing seem to do the trick. 

The next morning he calls you a cab back to your apartment. You both have busy schedules.

You ask him on your way out, “My 19th birthday is coming up and I’m having a party. Do you wanna come?”

You’re hoping he’ll say ‘yes’, sort of expecting him to based on the night before.

But he doesn’t. He says, “No offense, but I think a 37 year old man hanging out with a bunch of teenagers would be kind of weird. Don’t you think?”

There’s a twinge of embarrassment inside you, realizing that he was right and you probably shouldn’t have even asked. Then again, you really want more time with him, so you say, “But you hang out with me and it’s not weird.”

You thought that was the truth, but when he doesn’t meet your gaze, you continue, “Is it?”

Leon sighs before speaking. “We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

It’s the nicest way he can say it, but it hurts.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re too young for me.”

“I wasn’t too young for you last night.”

The statement hits him hard, even if you didn’t mean for it to - it’s just true.

“Yeah,” he says, not knowing if he means that you weren’t too young for him to have sex with or that you were. Neither answer feels good.

With tears in your eyes, you ask, “Did you use me for sex? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No,” he says, “I actually care about you believe it or not, but that’s why we can’t keep doing this.”

“What do you mean?”

“You deserve someone who can give you more than this.”

Leon wipes the tears off your cheeks and you ask, “Why can’t you give me more? You could be that person.”

“No, I can’t.”

The unsaid apology fills his blue eyes, and you accept it, reluctantly, when you stare into them.

He kisses your forehead as a final goodbye and says, “If you need anything, you can always call me.”

You hug him tightly, holding something that will never be yours, just borrowing time. He allows you to, rubbing your back. This is all he can give you…

[https-wildchaos]

Jacob Custos/Male reader, when Jake realizes he isn't as straight as he thought and drums up the courage to ask his crush out

a/n;; im gonna be honest this is such a really good idea oh em gee!! (i think this is a really short one for a good concept but if you guys really like it I can make more parts)

————————— • 🐺 • ——————————

the quarry jacob custos x male reader

“ Anxious Revelation ”

Jacob was always one of the popular jocks that only talked to his male friend group and occasionally with some girls on highschool but he didn't really date girls very often he was usually only playing football or rugby so he was pretty confused about what feelings he had for you.

Jacob had pulled Kaitlyn towards the campfire while nobody was there, he scratched his head as he looked at Kaitlyn who eyed him up and down, loosing her patience while Jake tried to find words to explain his situation. — "i think I like m/n..." he said with an awkward look on his face as he stared at Kaitlyn which looked surprised. "are you really dropping this information on me without explaining? what are you? our highschool teacher?" he looked back at her before his smile dropped, he sighed and got up from the log. " nevermind, you won't help." he said, looking annoyed before Kaitlyn pulled him onto the log again. "no no no wait, calm down now Tom Brady, explain me stuff before you walk away like an angry kid." she'd say before Jacob rolled his eyes. "well I feel something you know... like... weird whenever I talked with him." he said unable to explain it properly "that's why you didn't date any of the girls..." Kaitlyn mumbled before scratching her chin then snapping her fingers with a smile "ask him out!" she'd say before Jacob looked at her with a confused look on his face"what? no? i don't even like him dude! I mean I might.. but still! dudes can't kiss dudes!" Jacob said, still in denial " I didn't say nothing about kissing but okay, you'll be a happy little homosexual couple." Kaitlyn said with a neutral expression on her face, so close to laughing out loud but she tried to keep a straight face. "this is why I don't tell you stuff." he said with a scoff before walking away.

You were telling the kids bug facts under the tree that stayed in the middle of the cabin while Jacob watched from afar before he sighed and tried to think of what to do next, continuing his thought train for a fee minutes before you noticed him, chuckling softly to yourself you'd dismiss the camper group over to Dylan. You walked towards him with a smile before he started to blush and pretend he was doing something else. "never thought I'd be the counselor that people stare at." You joked with him while he turned towards you. "oh yeah, sure, I wasn't really watching you. I was just uhh, just cloud gazing on these beautiful wooden steps." he said awkwardly before you sat by his side. "yeah?" you said with a small flirty spice to your voice to which the other male tried to ignore. "yeah..." he stopped snd turned towards you. "do you uhh, like... do you wanna hang out?" he said, unsure if he just asked you out or not. "well, we're already hanging out though, cloud gazing is pretty cool to do, c'mon let's go lay down somewhere so it's more comfortable." you said, gaining confidence noticing he was acting slightly weird. "oh uh, sure dude." he said while you got up and stared at him, getting a bit hesitant noticing he wasn't actually joking. "uh alright, c'mon then." you said as you played with your thumb while you both walked towards the small grass patch near the radio station.

you laid down on the grass patch, blushing already noticing he was acting too weird for this to be a joke. he laid by your side, the grass shuffling under him as he tried to get comfortable on the spiky texture of the grass. you watched him with a small smile before you looked up on the sky, a perfect blue sky heading onto the sunset, exchanging gazes once in a while with jacob who seemed to enjoy your company. he looked down towards your hands, moving his slightly close to yours, enough to hold your pinky with his own. You felt your hands tingle as you turned towards him. "you can.. just hold it you know?" you said awkwardly, before grasping his hand. "yeah, of- of course bro, yeah..." he said while he stared at your eyes with his adorable puppy eyes while you rubbed your thumb on the back of his hand, shuffling close enough to give him a hug. "i hate making the first move." you said before Jacob chuckled, wrapping his strong arms around you gently, brushing the comfortable texture of his sweatshirt onto your skin. "in my defense I didn't know you actually liked me and I dont know how to confess to another dude." he confessed staring into your eyes.

————————— • 🐺 • ——————————

[princessconsuela120]

Chapter four: Back to Black —✿

Series masterlist

Chapter warnings: cursing, drugs, sex, everything that comes with euphoria

Authors note: this one’s one of my favs so far. Enjoy guys!!

—✿

Noelle woke up at 4 in the morning to the wonderful feeling of throwing up on the bathroom, something she had been accustomed to since the baby started showing. She was trapped. At least, in her mind she was. There she sat, pulling her hair out as she emptied her stomach into the toilet.

“Fuck this dude.” She grumbled, smiling at the knock on the door.

Noelle was everything good in the world. 0Seriously, like sometimes you’d think she was joking. But she still was human, and like all us humans, she had her demons. One of which being Nate Jacobs. And when she finally thought she was rid of him...

“Fuck.” She cursed, slamming her hands down as she threw up again.

“Ma, you good in there?” Fezco asked, making Noelle groan in response.

I had been friends with Noelle since we were 8. I like to say she’s my best friend, not like Lexi was, where I grew up with Lexi, Noelle was more my best friend just because she was who she was. She was that type of friend where you could sit together in silence and it wouldn’t be awkward.

But being Noelle’s best friend for as long as I had been, meant I knew everything about her. I knew her history, how her parents were always away or at “business meetings.”

“Why god, why do you hate me?” She groaned, shaking her head in her hands as she sat by the toilet. She looked like a mess, her hair was messy, and she was wearing fezco’s oversized t-shirt that had been sitting on her floor for the past few days.

All friendships have their hardships, the things they don’t like about the other. For me, that was Noelle’s dating life. She had that sort of trust in people, that anyone could be better if they truly tried. The worst part of her life thus far was her short lived relationship with Nate Jacobs. It was a summer thing, that lasted until the first month of the year. You’d never see Nate Jacobs as happy as he was when he was dating Noelle. We all saw it, we all knew they had to be meant for each other. Even in the hardships, when he got angry, she got patient. And when he got angrier, she put him in his place. You could see how they loved each other, well, that is until he cheated on her. With Maddy, in the closet at a party.

The closet of all places. The most cliche spot.

It was during a start of year party, the whole school was there. Well, besides me and Jules. Noelle didn’t tell me when it happened either. She just came to my house after the party and cried.

I found out the next week at school when I saw Maddy and Nate walking down the hallway, hand in hand.

Noelle didn’t have any problem with Maddy, even after Nate cheated. They had been close almost as long as Ellie and I had been friends, and she didn’t feel the need to break that. Yes, it was stupid, to stay friends with someone who betrayed you, but to be honest Noelle cared more that Nate cheated than the fact that he cheated with Maddy.

Don't you wish more people could be like that?

But that was just Noelle. The people she loved, she loved, and letting go of that was hard for her to do, so she just didn’t do it.

It was odd. After they broke up, Nate became more angry. He became more violent, more hateful. Like Noelle was the goodness inside him, and now that she was gone, so was his goodness.

“I brought you some ginger ale.” He said, opening the door to be meet with a defeated Noelle on the other side.

Like I said, Fez and Noelle were close. Fez told me I was his family; if I was fezco’s family, Noelle was his home. Minus the whole drug factor, Fez and Noelle were more alike than most people you’d ever meet. So staying with fezco was maybe the best thing that happened to their friendship. Because like I feel with Noelle, she felt safe with him.

“I feel like shit.”

“You look like Shit.”

“Thanks ash.”

And even if Nate pretended not to notice her in school, he wasn’t good at it. Even maddy could see him stare at her, and it was safe to say Cassie felt like she was losing her mind watching him stare at her the way he did.

—✿

“I'm a f*ckin' genius, Fez.” I said, happily walking into the room with a wide smile.

“Is that so?”

“It is f*ckin' so because I came up with an amazing f*ckin' plan.” I explained happily, Noelle smiling at me as I did. That’s why I loved Noelle, she was always kind regardless of what hell she was going through.

“And what would that be, Rue?”

“All right, so…” I cleared my throat. “all you would have to do is front me, like, $ , worth of dr*gs, okay? And...”

fezco shook his head as he looked at Noelle.

“Hell the f*ck no.”

“I’m with him.” Noelle said, pointing at fezco as I rolled my eyes.

“Okay, well, before you say no, you kind of have to let me finish, right?”

“Hell the f*ck no.” Fezco interrupted.

“Okay, why do you keep saying that?”

“I did not like the way that the plan started.” He explained, his legs hanging off the counter he was sitting on. Noelle chuckled as she looked between fez and I.

“Okay, well, you have to let me finish the f*cking plan.”

“No.”

“Yes. You...”

“Hell the f*ck no, Rue.”

That was when I gave up. By the look on Noelle’s face, I knew I had come to the wrong place.

“f*ck it. I give up. Whatever. I'll just take my f*ckin' business elsewhere. It's your f*ckin' loss, man.”

I took one last look at fezco as he shook his head.

“Hell the f*ck no.”

—✿

“So first, you come to my f*ckin' job askin' all these weird-ass questions like the feds. Then I find you out in front of my house. What the f*ck are you doin', man?” Fezco asked, Cal Jacobs once again sitting infront of him unfortunately for fez.

“You're free to call the cops.” Cal sassed, raising an eyebrow as Fez rolled his eyes.

“Why the f*ck would I do that?”

“Well, it's either call the cops, let me go or... k*ll me.”

Fezco rolled his eyes.

“What the f*ck, man? What's with your family? Are you all just a bunch of f*ckin' assholes?”

Noelle couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You beat up my son.” Cal said, making Fezco roll his eyes again.

“Yeah, well, he deserved it, man. He's a f*ckin' bitch. And he fucked with my family.” Fezco looked over at Noelle with a smile, and she smiled back. She knew he was talking about her.

“Oh, okay, tough guy.” Cal grumbled, before Ashtray hit him over the head with his gun. “Ow, f*ck! Why did you do that?” He groaned, blood dripping down his face as Ashtray glared at him.

“Cause you're in no position to talk shit.”

“I'm warning you. You hit me one more...Oh, f*ck!” Cal screamed, getting hit again in the head.

“That one was for Noelle.” Ash hissed, smiling kindly at Noelle who smiled back.

“I didn’t do shit to Noelle. Ow!”

“Why don't you call the cops?” Ashtray threatened, as Cal grunted.

“All right, Ash. Chill out, man.” Fezco tried to reason, but the boy just kept hitting Cal with his gun.

“This guy don't want the f*ckin' cops involved. Watch. Call the cops.” Ashtray threatened, making Cal snap at him.

“I will.” He groaned, before getting hit again.

“Dial, bitch. If you got nothin' to hide,call the f*ckin' cops.”

“Stop, stop, stop.”

“I'm not f*cking stopping. I'm not stopping. Call the cops.” Ashtray looked at Cal, who looked back at him shamefully before looking to the ground. “I told you.”

“All right, man. I get it.” Fezco said, making Ashtray finally step down.

“I know you and your drug addict friend, that girl. You're trying to extort my son.”

“What?”

“Because of what he did to her.” He pointed at Noelle and she looked down trying to avoid his gaze. “And what I did to her friend.”

“What the f*ck are you talkin' about, man?”

“You know, the blonde.”

“Who? Jewel?”

Noelle couldn’t help but laugh. Fezco always messed up Jules’ name.

“Look, man, I didn't know she was 17.” Cal mumbled, causing Fez and Noelle to exchange knowing looks.

“You tellin' me you had sex with Jewel?” Fezco asked, his jaw dropping as he looked at Nate’s dad in disgust.

“Who's Jewel?” Faye asked, taking a hit from her joint as she rode out her high.

“What the f*ck, man?” Fezco asked, though he wasn’t sure who he was asking.

“Do I know Jewel?” Faye asked, but everyone ignored her. Noelle rubbed her back sweetly.

“No sweetie.”

“The f*ck are we even talkin' about right now, bro?” Fezco asked, as Faye looked around trying to think if she knew Jules.

“Jewel. Jewel. Jewel...”

“I just want the disc.” Cal asked, making Fezco even more confused.

“What disc?!”

“Of Jewel and I.”

“Yo, you recorded that shit?!”

“What the fuck.” Noelle mumbled to herself , not having known about Jules and Cal.

“I didn't know.”

“You didn't know that you were recording?”

“I f*cked up.”

“Obviously, man. Yo, who the f*ck even told you I gave a shit about this anyway?”

“My son.”

“Your son? The one that knocked up Noelle?” Fezco asked, making Cal look up at him confused.

“Aw, that's cute.” Faye said, turning to Noelle with a smile as she smiled back, terrified of the situation.

“That's not cute, man. What the f*ck?” Fezco cursed, sighing as he shook his head.

“You mean your son who never leaves Jules the fuck alone?” Fezco asked again and Cal just looked at him.

“What?”

“What kind of weird-ass father-son shit is goin' on around here, bro?” Fezco asked, making Cal shake his head.

“I'm extremely confused.” Cal said. Fezco looked at him as if he had three heads.

“You're confused. I'm f*ckin' confused, bro.”

“Me too.” Faye said, as Noelle raised her hand.

“Me three.”

“I don't even know what the f*ck you're doin' here.” Fezco said, causing cal to pagse for a second before looking up at Fez.

“Do you mind if I just leave? I'm not gonna say a word about anything, I swear to God.

Let's just pretend like...none of this ever happened.” Cal pleaded, Fezco and Ashtray exchanging a look before fez began to talk.

“Yo, Ash, let me talk to you real quick.”

The two left the room, walking into the back to talk leaving Noelle with Cal and Faye.

“You know it makes sense. I was wondering why you left the company.” Cal said, Noelle hugging herself nervously as he spoke.

“Yeah. Sorry about that…”

Like a guardian Angel, Fezco came back.

“Yo, check it out, man. I'mma let you walk up outta here on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You'll keep your bitch-ass son out of my f*ckin' life, and Rue's and Jewel's, till the end of f*cking time. And he better step his ass up as a damn father.”

Cal didn’t respond at first, just glanced at Noelle with a soft smile. He knew it, he knew then and there. And Noelle knew he knew it the second he looked down at her stomach then back at her, a blank stare on his face as a million thoughts raced through his head. His sons life was over.

“You understand?” Fez asked, making Cal nod.

“I promise.”

“Now, I don't know shit about no f*ckin' disc, man. That's not my problem. Now get this m*therf*cker up outta here, Ash.”

—✿

Nate begged Noelle to stay the night. And by begged I mean showed up with flowers and everything. He would be lying if he said he didn’t miss her these past few weeks, all he could think about was her and his kid. If they were okay, if she was taking vitamins, if the baby was a boy or a girl. He hoped it was a girl, then it was less of a chance the kid would turn out like Nate.

“Elle, you’re pregnant.” Nate said, stopping her as she rolled her eyes, holding up a wet wipe and some gauze to his forehead cut. He had been instructed to take care of the wound after stitches, but knowing Nate he probably didn’t do any taking care of himself.

“You got beaten half to death let me take care of you.” She argued, making him go tan loudly as she cleaned his cut.

“Fuck.”

“That hurt?” She asked, smirking at him slightly.

“A little.”

“Good.”

It went quiet for a bit. Nate let her clean up his wounds as he sat there patiently, knowing her perf her that much. He could t help but stare at her small belly with an ache in his heart.

“When did you and me ever stop being, you and me?” He asked, causing Noelle to stop what she was doing. She sighed, frowning at him as she thought.

“I don’t know Nate. I loved you I really did. But, you’re not you anymore. You changed you, you’re so different now.” He scoffed, trying not to whimper at the light stinging from his forehead.

“Come on, Noah, I’m not that different.” He reasoned, making Noelle stop in her tracks, sighing again.

“I don’t even recognize you anymore Nate. I no longer feel comfort and joy being around you, just, fear.” She explained, causing Nate’s heart to shatter. If you had asked Nate who his favorite person was, he’d say Noelle. If you asked Noelle well, she would come up and probably have a meltdown at just th thought of Nate. And that’s what was different between them. He loved her, but she wasn’t too sure anymore.

“You’re afraid of me?” He asked, his voice low and quiet to not upset her.

“A little.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Yeah well, what are you gonna do?”

The two had spent the night together and even ended up cuddling while they went to sleep. Nate’s face was horizontal to Noelle’s as he kissed her cheek softly, having missed her touch. And for the night, Noelle did too.

“I missed you noah.” He mumbled, hurrying his head in her neck as she ran her fingers through his hair. Nate’s hands never left her stomach since they got in the bed.

“I missed you too. And I hate myself for it.”

[concook20]

Wild Kratts Headcannon! (2)

Martin/Chris/Aviva/Koki/Jimmy Z

Crew: 2/5

Chris Fredrick James Kratt

Age: 22

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual

Birthday: July 19th

Zodiac Sign: Cancer

Height: 5' 8"

Weight: 150 lbs

Body Shape: Fit, as if he goes to the gym

Favorite Color: Green and black

Verts: Ambivert, mostly extrovert though

Phobia: Nyctophobia (Fear Of Darkness)

Hobbies: Singing, rock or tree climbing, and reading books (books like Amulet, Bones, and classic books).

Family and Relationship

He was a daddy boy before, he used to try to be perfect for his dad, so he could make him proud, until he came out as bisexual, which made his dad angry and upset. He still hopes he could be proud in the future

He loves his mother, in fact, he learned how to cook when he was interested, where he isn't the best, but he still makes good meals, too. He loves spending time with her, whenever he take a break

He hates Christine, due to most of the time, she takes credit for stuff like cleaning, making coffee for their dad, and/or do her work, whenever Chris was the one who did those things, and even then, the two still hate each other

Susan and Chris are close, but they don't spend time with each other much, since Susan and Martin bond, and they hang out sometimes, but not all the time

He dated someone once in high school, a popular guy, until he dumped Chris for not liking a 'weirdo, who loves animals', which made Chris, somewhat, closed off on love

Chris and Aviva met around middle school, where they were science partners, until they hung out more, becoming best friends

The reason why Chris crawled to Martin instead of his parents, was because he actually loved Martin more than them, since he feels happier and safe around him, even wanted to be just like him when he was older, to the point the two began their dreams of saving animals

Facts For Chris

Chris wears glasses most of the time, even when he mostly doesn't need it.

Chris listens to Melanie Martinez, NF, or Billie Eilish songs, since most of the time, he relates to them deeply and other times, they're catchy.

I don't care how anyone wouldn't believe this, but this dude cheats in any games, like Uno or Mario Kart, no matter how hard or easy it is!

Chris has a teddy bear in order to sleep in the dark.

Chris used to be a nerd when he was a freshman, until he began to work out and wear different outfits, which got some attention.

Chris sings whenever he is alone, since he's still nervous about his singing voice, but even if he does, he is a very good singer.

Chris has ✨Autism✨!

Chris is a BIG fan of MatPats videos, even doing his own theories on movies, shows, or books.

That's all for now! If you have any questions, please comment down!

[carmillas-vampiric-rage]

Random Bi-Han Headcanons MK1

this man has consumed my thoughts omfg i tried to fight it why am i always shocked when this happens

anyway, here's like a random selection of headcanons i have about this little bitch

warnings: none. my tomfoolery. bi-han being a gay loser.

bi-han x black biracial reader (gn)

he nearly cried when kung lao sliced him with that round blade (he did). boy was legit so upset and surprised he managed to get that blow in despite him being GRANDMASTER and kung lao being INCOMPETENT. picture that scrunch face you make when you trying not to cry and you keep blinking and your eyes burning- that's what he did (canon event)

he is the definition of Mean and Angry Bisexual™. boy is what i like to call a homophobic homosexual. he notices a hot dude or nonbinary person and immediately looks away and says via voice over "no. that is gay."

saw this on another random bi-han headcanon post and i absolutely agree: bi-han loves women of color. i think he primarily dates woc too hehe. let's say hypothetically he hates white people because of tomas. i didn't say that you did. we love tomas in this house btw. and like that same headcanon post; he has a preference for black and black biracial folks. i do not take criticism hehe. this is canon and a fact (he's dating me after all)

absolutely loves when you wear your hair naturally, in any style, he loves when you embrace your culture and family history. he'd never mention or talk about your hair to you, as it seems rude and disrespectful to him, but he thinks it. and he also thinks whenever you wear your hair in a full afro, he's never seen anyone so beautiful. each and every time it astounds him that he's still awestruck.

big cuddler. idc what anyone says, he loves to cuddle. he's literally the most clingy lil guy. after finally finding his person and being able to be vulnerable for the first time since his mother died, he just melts, and becomes inseparable from you. after a hard day, or when he's enraged (a rare occurrence), nothing calms his mind down or relaxes his tense muscles like wrapping an arm around you and pulling you flush to him, your back to him as you sleep soundly. he listens to your soft breathing (or snoring lets be real) and tries to calm himself from the day's frustrations. if you awaken from his entrance, and unsurprising cuddles, you'll touch his hand and squeeze, snuggling closer to him -as if he's not already melted into your skin- and smile as he kisses your jawline and the back of your neck. most of the time, you'll turn over to him, his arm not removing from your waist, and grab his face, kissing his face and lips. the two of you will remain as close, foreheads resting against the other, sometimes talking, sometimes enjoying the sweet silence until you both fall asleep.

like so many others have stated; he was way closer with his mother than his father. when he was a child, being around her was the only time he could actually put his guard down, and be vulnerable. she would protect him. spending time with his mother, were some of the few times he would laugh or smile, as she told him funny stories from her childhood, or tickle him to get a confession out of him, if he'd been the one to steal the last cookie. she was his everything. his closest person. his best friend besides his brothers. and her death broke him. he closed off even more than he already did, vowing never to let anyone besides his mother see his unguarded side. but if he was being honest -and not constantly pushing the thought from his mind- he broke down the night she died, sobbing uncontrollably alone in his room as he clung to the soft baby blue sweater she always wore.

I don't care what anyone says, I don't care what we see in the game or if official heights come out... bi-han is s h o r t. my headcanon is 5'9. that may seem short for him but he just radiates 5'9 energy i do not take criticism. my man is stout so it only makes sense that he a short king.

bi-han used to be inseparable from his brothers when they were kids, their father taking in tomas at such a young age, bi-han always remembers him being there. there isn't a single memory from his childhood that both his brothers aren't in. he'd never tell either kuai liang or tomas, but he cherishes those memories of when they were kids, when they'd play outside every single day, look for creepy and interesting bugs, practice combat, aka, someone ended up with a black eye and sobbing. whenever those memories pop into his head, his permanent frown softens a bit, though he tries not to let anything show on his face. part of him does wish he could be close to them like they were as kids, but he's too stubborn and full of himself to actually try and repair the relationship he's mostly stilted over the years.

~~~~~~~

just a few super random headcanons of my babygirl. may come back to some of these or write another part if i think of more. feel free to add onto these i crave bi-han headcanons!!!!!!!

[dangermousie]

God, this sequence was BRUTAL and I adored it. Basically, he can't help himself and keeps throwing jibes about her and the painter and she finally has had enough:

And so she loses it, and hits back and in her attempt to protect herself, draws blood! (The thing is, she has NO idea that he is still in love with her; hell she still has no idea he lied in jail. She is angry and vulnerable.)

And that hits him straight in the heart - all his barely controlled, unacknowledged terror that he's missed his chance, that she won't ever like him again, that she's moved on.

So he addresses it in a mature manner in a private measured discussion. Psych!!! She drew blood so he goes for the jugular ten times worse. The man has only two defense mechanisms when hurt - to retreat behind his walls (tried, didn't work) or when that's impossible, to lash out to make the other person back off and/or to hurt as he's been hurt. And so this utter and complete mess pours out of him, in front of the whole office...

The thing is, what he doesn't realize (and she doesn't realize it either, she's too emotionally compromised) how utterly this rant proves he's so so so in love with her - it doesn’t just show he's out of his mind with jealousy, it's like him reminding her, in the most dysfunctional way possible, see you liked me me me meeeeeee meeeeeeeeeeee! And the fact that he talks about all these little things she did back way when means he actually remembered the supposedly insignificant to him things for YEARS in glorious technicolor. He has revealed himself completely and neither of them is together enough to realize it.

And then he brings this up as his finishing comment and I kinda flail like Kermit because this is the crux, isn't it - this is him, telling her in the world's most dysfunctional manner that he is feeling betrayed, that she should keep her word and choose him and just - he was never great at communicating or showing his feelings in a functional way but he got better (his sister shortly before she died even commented that he learned to express love) and then jail happened and all the progress was undone and then some. This is a man mere weeks out of jail, any hope of him processing and expressing himself in a functional manner would be deluded.

I mean look at them, both equally heart broken and such a total mess.

The thing is, the fact that it makes sense for someone with his issues and his personality and his background to lash out like this, does not negate the fact that he hurt her terribly and she deserved none of it. If you think about it, in his whole life, she's the only person who's ever fought for him - everyone else was either unable or unwilling. I mean, I am sure his mother didn't want to die and leave him but the fact remains, he was the caretaker between the two of them; he feels his sister picked her abusive husband over him, Gao betrayed him, dancer friend couldn't do anything, teachers didn't care (look at her mommy expelling him), cops didn't care (his sister's accident) etc etc. And here is this beautiful, kind, warm, brighter than the sun young woman who fights for him and fights for him - fights for a place on his team, fights for his friendship and his heart, fights to provide a place for him after his life is wrecked. She just doesn't give up and not even he can make her give up permanently. And then he thinks she's dating painter dude and logically so what - she has every right to do so - but that pushes all his jealousy and abandonment issues and he just implodes.

I love so much that the office is on her side btw (man, they must view the real life soap as a hell of a bonus to their working life) and the thing is, the moment after he said what he said, you can tell it sink in for Li Xun how unforgivable and heinous that outburst was (and not like in jail for a good cause either.)

Poor girl! Yes, your ex boyfriend is an idiot, I am sorry.

[afh48]

Bechloe accidental kiss 💋

thanks for the prompt! thisll be short b/c it's late and the only long thing I wanna even thing about is taking a long sip of water and getting fucking hydrated :P

set after pp2, while theyre living together. ending kinda based off of a fic i read on ao3 a while ago that i can't find, i'm sorry

//you call me strawberry wine//

When Beca get home from work, Chloe's making something for dinner. It's surprising; not because Chloe never cooks (quite the opposite in fact, she has made is her personal job to keep Beca well-fed), but because Chloe's not supposed to be home.

Chloe's supposed to be on a date. A date that she had been rather excited about. She's been talking to this guy from some dating site for a few weeks now, and she's been so eager to finally meet him. So Chloe should be on her date, having fun, being treated well by a nice guy, not making a meal for her roommate who doesn't know how to cook for herself.

"Chloe, what are you doing back to early?" asks Beca, letting her bag slip off her shoulder and to the floor. She steps into their small kitchen and leans against the counter.

Bright blue eyes found Beca's as Chloe stirs something on the stove, but the smile that usually accompanies them is missing. "Date didn't go too well," she tells Beca with a shrug. Beca doesn't respond, but rather draws her eyebrows together and frowns, a silent request for Chloe to elaborate. The redhead sighs. "It was going okay for a while, but then he made some sort of 'joke,' I guess, about 'not being able to wait to take me home.' And so I made a 'joke' about not putting out on the first date, you know, like, establishing that I don't want to have sex with him or anything. He didn't take that too well. Left before we even got our food."

Rage burns inside Beca. What a fucking asshole. Chloe deserves to be treated so so nicely and to be taken out and treated like she's the most brilliant, amazing person in the world. Because she is. And here she is, making chicken chili after her date abandoned her because she didn't want to suck his dick after.

"Beca, don't," Chloe warns, and Beca softens her gaze. Chloe looks tired, looks hurt. Suddenly, Beca doesn't care as much about the douche that left her and thinks about how terrible Chloe must feel, being walked out on on her first date in years.

"I'm sorry," swallowed Beca, stepping forward. She takes Chloe's hands in hers and looks her best friend in the eyes. "If he can't see how amazing you are, that's his fault, dude. Any reasonable person would kill to get a date with you."

This works at lifting Chloe's spirits. Her soft, pink lips open in a laugh and she's smiling again, gazing teasingly at Beca. "Well, I don't know how reasonable someone could be if they're killing someone just for a date with me." She turns her back to Beca and stirs the pot again. "But thank you. You can be really sweet when you're not trying to pass off with that 'oh, I'm so tough and badass and I don't care about anything' facade," Chloe smirks, throwing a wink over her shoulder.

Heat rises to Beca's cheeks. She doesn't respond, but simply watches while Chloe hums, swaying her hips as she stirs the chili.

"Can you get the paprika for me? I feel like this'll need a little more," Chloe requests, snapping Beca out of it.

"Huh? Oh, right. Yeah." Beca takes a step to the counter and reaches up, opening the spice cabinet. The paprika is on the top shelf, and as much as she stands on her tip toes and jumps a little to reach, she can't get it.

Chloe laughs somewhere behind her. "You're so cute. Let me." A second later, Chloe's body is pressed against Beca's back and she's reaching over the smaller woman to get the paprika. Beca instinctively turns.

They're so close, like, too close. And Chloe's lips are soft against Beca's.

Beca stills and Chloe's blue eyes widen. Chloe leans back, and they're not kissing anymore. "Oops," she says, but she doesn't look angry, or guilty, or whatever emotion you're supposed to feel after accidentally kissing your best friend. But Beca knows that you're certainly not supposed to feel a strong longing to do it again.

She doesn't have to long, however, because Chloe smiles at her and leans back in. There's more to it this time, it's not just a light brush of the lips. Chloe's, like, legit kissing Beca. Beca feels her own hands go to Chloe's hips, feels herself start to kiss back, because it's happening. Beca's wanted this for so long, and it's finally happening.

Chloe pulls back after what felt like forever. She smiles and reaches up, grabs the paprika. And then she's gone. Beca's left leaning against the counter, her fingers lightly touching her lips, missing Chloe's touch.

They don't really talk about it. That is, until five years later, at Chloe's wedding.

Chloe, beautifully clad in all white, drags Beca away from the after party. Her hand is soft and warm and familiar around Beca's as she pulls Beca away from the party and out onto the beach.

"We shouldn't be out here," Beca tells her. They've been walking along the beach for a few minutes now. "Dude, you're the bride. Aubrey will be looking all over for you."

"Beca," Chloe says. Her voice is soft. Her eyes are wide and questioning. She looks vulnerable. "Do you remember, years ago, when we accidentally kissed?"

The question comes out of nowhere. Beca blinks once. Twice. "Uh, yeah. I couldn't reach the spice cabinet, right?"

Chloe nods, the corners of her mouth pulling up in a small smile. "I liked it." Then she's turning to face Beca, pulling her in close. They're inches away from each other. "I really liked it."

She kisses Beca, full and deep. Beca lets her hands wander, up Chloe's back and into her done-up red hair. It's all she's ever wanted.

When Beca finally pulls away, they stand with their foreheads resting together. Chloe's staring at her, a warm smile playing on her delicate features. Beca wants to lean in and kiss her again.

"We," she says instead, "should really get back to the party." She steps back, pulling Chloe in the direction they had come from. They need to find their shoes.

Chloe giggles, quick to follow Beca. She strides ahead, tugging Beca along with her. "Okay, kill-joy." She throws a wink over her shoulder. "Come on, Mrs. Mitchell."

Beca smiles and follows her wife back to their party.