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#shut up mac nobody cares

thatdude-noah · 4 months

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thinking about genderbent mac still being a very butch and masculine person. and obviously it's easy to do from a simplicity standpoint because you're making a male character female, and that male character is very masculine. but it has so many implications for a female mac and what she would be like, and it draws out and highlights the most important aspects of mac's character.

mac obviously cares about being seen as masculine, as a man, as a badass—and before season 12, as not gay. he's overly religious and focuses so much on what he should be, this idealized version of a man. but all of those things are so basic about mac. they don't get down to the actual core of him.

female mac is still masculine because, overall, mac's biggest motivator is his father. he wants his father's love and approval. and so female mac would still crave that. she would still idealize her dad, want to be the perfect kid for him. and that would mean being masculine, indulging in the masculine hobbies he has, almost functioning as the son he never got to have. mac craves closeness to her father so desperately that she completely shapes herself around what could get her close to her father, and that thing is masculinity and being strong.

#shut up noah nobody cares ‼️#iasip #it's always sunny in philadelphia #mac mcdonald #maybe deleting this tonight because i'm overthinking things

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catharusustulatus · 5 months

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Steddie Drabble, TW: child abuse.

Initially, Wayne doesn’t care for Steve. Calls him “the Harrington boy” or “Richard’s son” with contempt, asks if “Richard’s son” is coming over for dinner again and Eddie just rolls his eyes and says “yes, Wayne, STEVE is coming over at 7.” Wayne doesn’t like him because…well, he’s not stupid to judge a book by its cover, he thinks.

But the fifth time Harrington comes over, he brings a bouquet of flowers, and Eddie, well, his cheeks are redder than the spaghetti sauce Wayne’s been stirring, so that’s something.

And then the sixth time Steve comes over, he brings Wayne a Garfield magnet. It’s small, “found it at the thrifty mart with Robin, I’m sorry it’s not brand new…” Steve mumbles, and Eddie is wide eyed and smiling, and Wayne LOVES Garfield. He puts it on the fridge, pats Steve on the back, says “um, thank you son.”

They fall into a pattern, the three of them. Steve comes over for dinner every Friday night after work. He dresses clean and is polite to Wayne, helps with the dishes, sometimes brings bread rolls or licorice or beer or jokes. Eddie starts setting the table. Wayne starts laughing at the jokes. After Steve leaves, Wayne knows Eddie smiles himself to sleep. It’s different, now.

And then the next time Steve is supposed to come over for dinner, he doesn’t show. Eddie had been making macaroni and cheese all evening, grating the cheese carefully as he bopped his head to some metal song, cheerful, and then it was 7 and then it was 8 and then Wayne thought “maybe call him, Ed.”

Nobody answers. When they call again, nobody answers. And Wayne has a bad feeling about it.

It isn’t until almost 11, dinner cold and Eddie pacing, about to radio someone named Robin when Steve’s car pulls up, they know the lights so well. They run outside to greet him and Eddie freezes when Steve starts falling out of the drivers seat, face dark and pained. Wayne jumps into action. Wayne catches Steve and hauls him into the trailer, his living room, and oh god, he’s covered in bruises like he was put through Eddie’s cheese grater, and oh god, Eddie’s broken out into tears behind him.

Steve’s left eye is swollen shut, and his face is purple and bloody. His lip is split and his hair is wild, his shirt is torn, and Wayne wonders what’s underneath the shirt as he gets the first aid kit, wonders how the hell he thought Steven was anything other than an angel.

Eddie gets a dish towel wet in the kitchen and cleans Steve’s face, quiet and crying, and Wayne sets the first aid kit down next to Eddie and makes some coffee. He thinks about talking, doesn’t. Touches the Garfield magnet for good luck. He feels like maybe Steve needs it.

Steve who is holding Eddie’s wrist as he cleans him up, wincing and crying from his good eye. Finally, after a silence that gives Wayne heartburn, Eddie sits back on his heels and says whisper quiet, “your dad?”

Steve gulps, blinks. “My uh, my dad. I was writing you uh, uh a love note.” Eddie looks over at Wayne. Wayne wipes his brow. “But uh, he found it, and your name’s not uh, Edith” Steve lets out a chuff, winces again. “So he asked what was going on, and I told him. I told him. And then he said I had one minute to take it back or he’d make me take it back.” Eddie lets out a small gasp, more like a howl, and sits completely on the floor. Wayne sits down at the table, cold mac and cheese looking like a sick joke. And he’s so mad. Wayne is so, so mad, seeing this young man who so obviously loves his pride and joy, shares in his pride and joy, who brings him apples to make apple pie, he growls out

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Steven, not one thing. You stay here long as you like, hell, don’t leave. We got you, boy.”

And that’s that. Steve crumples in on himself, and Eddie pulls him into a big hug, just holds him, rocks him, coos “a love note, huh, sweetheart? For me?” And Steve nods until he nods off.

The next morning, while Robin takes care of Steve, Wayne and Eddie break into Steve’s room, clear out everything he owns, and slash his dad’s tires. That was Wayne’s idea - the least he could do for a loved one.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie drabble #wayne munson #I just am obsessed with Wayne being like who is this snotty rich kids oops I adopted him #Wayne and Steve forever #also Steve gives me huge scared of my dad vibes #so I just feel like if he came out he’d be beat up #tw: abuse #but I also think that if Steve was hurt #Wayne and Eddie would be like oh yeah? death to you #anyway idk #I just love them your honor

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builtbybrokenbells · 11 months

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Gold Dust Woman

Amidst a battle of silent pining over Sam Kiszka, y/n begins to believe her feelings are a bit misplaced after months of receiving nothing in return. A night of attempting to drink away his memory results in a messy hookup with the worst possible person. Now stuck in limbo with being in love with Sam, and in lust with his brother, she’s left to navigate her way out of the grave she’s dug for herself.

Read part two here

listen while reading: gold dust woman - fleetwood mac

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: SMUT18+, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), hookups, pet names, sort of angst?, embarrassing crushes, unrequited feelings, some feelings of guilt, drinking, swearing, partying, sorry if I miss any!!

howdy. new series on the way! here’s chapter one! slutty jake is my weakness, so here’s basically a whole chapter of him being a little shit disturber. and surprise surprise, i drew a little inspiration from my fav song, too 🫣 there’s a lot of fantastic work out for the forbidden twin lane, so I’m definitely a little nervous to post. also really trying hard to keep my stuff original! as always, enjoy, please be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

Sam. Sam fucking Kiszka. The bane of your existence, but also the light of your life. Caught between hopelessly pining after him, and also wishing you’d never met him. You found yourself stuck in a never ending loop, constantly battling yourself and always refusing to give in to either side. It was relentless, exhausting, but exhilarating all the same. Always caught up in his minuscule movements, the small expressions that nobody else cared to look for, hanging on to every word as if it was necessary for survival. Whatever was so special about him, you weren’t sure. Even so, you couldn’t deny that you were wrapped around his finger, desperate for a hint of reciprocity. Desperate for the feeling of his hands on you, and the knowledge of what it was like to be wrapped around him. Unfortunately for you, it never came. You never spoke it aloud, never made it known that you felt such a way, because he never gave any idea that he looked at you as anything more than a friend. So, to avoid rejection, and to maintain the peace, you kept your mouth shut. Suffering in silence was better than disrupting the entire friend group.

So you sat, immersed in conversation with his best friend, caring little about the words exchanged, and more about what Sam found himself occupied with across the room. It was uncharacteristic for you, to be so uninterested in the person in front of you, but you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. He was addicting; fuelling you more than any amphetamine, more comforting than any opioid, and haunting you with no sign of easing his hold. And just like any other drug, he gave you nothing except an empty promise of lasting fulfillment. You wanted to rid yourself of him, never again speak his name or think of his face. At the same time, you never wanted him to go away. You wanted every aspect of your life to be laced with Sam’s being, just so you never had to fear losing him.

The liquor in your cup was achingly strong, pleading with you to ease off with each sip you took. Still, you continued, bargaining with yourself that the burn of the alcohol was more soothing than your relentless thoughts about Sam. Plus, it was a sure way to forget about him. “What’s on your mind?” The question almost produced a laugh from you. You looked to the speaker, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Uh, nothing of importance.” You answered in the most truthful way possible. Your thoughts were not important; far from it, actually. It was an endless stream of ideas all running back to the same pool of topic. One that wasn’t worth speaking into existence, mostly because you were already certain it would never amount to anything beyond a hopeless daydream.

“Oh, come on, y/n.” Danny pried. “All of your thoughts are important. I think so, at least.” You gave him a chuckle, appreciating his kindness.

“You ever get the feeling that the universe put something in your life solely to make you suffer?” You posed the theory, finally looking to meet his eyes.

“I mean, yeah.” He nodded. “Karma is real, I believe in that stuff.”

“Yeah, me too, but that’s not really what I mean.” You eased back into the sofa, feeling the tingle of tipsiness start to spread throughout your limbs.

“What do you mean, then?” He took a long sip from his bottle of beer, making you turn up your nose in disgust. You had no idea how anyone enjoyed the stuff. Alcoholic bread water was not your choice of beverage, and you made sure the boys were aware of that. You hoped maybe they’d jump off the beer train and settle on a drink that actually tasted good, instead of pretending to enjoy the bottles of craft swamp water.

“I don’t think it’s necessarily karmic. Sometimes, people do as much good as they can, and still seem to find themselves in the middle of suffering.”

“So, bad luck?” He chuckled, trying to piece together your drunken ramblings.

“Sort of,” you shrugged. “It’s hard to explain.” You dismissed the topic, regretting bringing it up in the first place. Perhaps you were letting the alcohol lead the conversation, failing to understand that it would ultimately lead back to the boy you were trying to drown the memory of.

“I’ve got time.” He assured you. You reached for the bottle cap resting on the table, flicking it in the air with your thumb and catching it in your palm.

“I don’t think there’s enough time in the world for this, Danny Boy.” You sighed.

“Try, at least. Your drunk rambling is my favourite part of these parties.” You caught his eye, laughing at his admission.

“They tend to be quite comedic, don’t they?”

“Sometimes. Other times they’re pretty insightful, I think. Your alter ego may be a philosopher of sorts. You have a lot of wisdom up there.” He reached over, gently knocking against your skull with his knuckle, giving you a grin. You couldn’t help but return it, despite your despair. As much as Sam Kiszka plagued your ability to enjoy yourself, you found solace in Danny’s company. He was always a great listener, and consistently had a few good jokes up his sleeve begging to be told.

“You’re too kind to me, Daniel. It’s a trap, you know. Inflate my head a little too much, and it’s just chaos. You’ll never get rid of me.”

“I’m fine with that.” He drained the liquid from his bottle and reached into the cardboard box for another. You watched him as he placed the cap to the edge of the worn down wooden table. He brought his hand down on top of it, freeing the bottle effortlessly. “I enjoy your company.”

“Charming.” You hummed, the foam from the carbonated liquid fizzling out the top and spilling on to his hand. “Seems like you’ve made a mess.” You pointed out. He shook off the bubbles, watching them land with a splat against the concrete floor. He wiped his hand on his jeans, ridding himself of the dampness.

“So enlighten me, then.” He settled back into the lawn chair after he pulled it as close to the couch as possible. You pondered your choice of words, unsure of where to begin.

“Karma is effect from cause.” You started, eyeing your drink suspiciously. You leaned forward, grabbing the pint of vodka and placing your cup on the table. As you watched the crystal liquid flow, you let your heart decide when to cut it off. You topped it off with some more soda, returning your attention to your company. “Some things don’t really feel like that. When you do something terrible, you wait for something to come back and bite you in the ass, to cause you some of the turmoil you’ve given to others. At least, normal people feel that way. Some don’t, but that’s another story for another day.” He nodded in agreement. “Sometimes, things happen, or people show up, or whatever it be, and they completely change the way your world works. In this case, I mean in a bad way. You don’t feel like you’re deserving of it, and you don’t necessarily feel like it’s an issue with luck. They’re there for a reason, but it’s just a shitty one.”

“So a lesson.” He deducted. Your eyes shifted towards him, your head cocking to the side ever so slightly. Eventually, you gave a slow nod, appreciating his input.

“Yeah, a lesson. That’s a better word for it.” You guided your straw to your mouth, sucking gently and feeling the spread of warmth fill your chest as you swallowed.

“So what is your lesson, tonight?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” You sighed. “I guess I’m more concerned about the why, rather than the what.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” He agreed.

“Why do some people need lessons? I mean, we all have to learn, but why does it always have to be so disastrous to do it?”

“Guess it leaves a larger impact.” He theorized. “If the lesson doesn’t hurt, you’re less likely to remember it.” You murmured a sound of understanding, realizing he was right. Whatever lesson Sam was teaching you must have been incredibly important, because it hurt like a bitch.

“That’s why they invented alcohol, Danny. So people like us can use it to ignore any hurtful lessons. I’m nothing if not spiteful, even to the universe.” He chuckled, reaching over and tilting his bottle towards you. You knocked your glass against it lightly, a gesture of gratitude for his listening ears.

“So that’s what you want to do tonight? Drink away your lesson?” You nodded.

“For the time being. It’s alright, because it’ll still be trying to teach me in the morning.”You both fell back into a silence, watching the crowd flutter around the room. Your garage had become the scene for social butterflies. Current friends and those of the past always stopping by for a quick chat, a good drink, and enjoyable music. You didn’t mind hosting; it made your home a lot less lonely. For someone who chose to surround yourself with people, you felt that way quite often. Always someone to say hello to, but never anyone to share anything meaningful with.

For a twenty-something socialite, who cared more about a good time than anything else, you’d done quite well for yourself. You started off without much of a chance, born into poverty and destined to remain there. In retaliation, you fought the expectation tooth and nail. You started working the minute you could, and saved every dollar you earned as long as the situation permitted. As soon as you turned 18, you vowed never to look back at your hometown. Since then, you hadn’t. You went to school, got a degree, and continued to work until you collapsed. Then, you got up the next day and continued on. The relentless effort never stopped until your hands were on a set of house keys that you could call your own. Now, you worked on your own schedule as a well-renowned music producer and backpacked off artists success, as you liked to word it.

You would much prefer to be the person behind the glass, but as the world allowed it, you remained behind the scenes. It was certain money rather than blind luck, and you appreciated your security more than passion. It was easier that way, especially with nobody to fall back on. So, you settled for Friday night shows at local bars, just you and your acoustic guitar, and no hope of anybody remembering your name. The too-drunk regulars seemed to love your performances, but as you saw it, any drunk fool appreciated something they could dance or sing along to. The production part wasn’t all bad, of course. It gave you some real friends, which you’d never really had before. Danny, being one of them. Well, all of the boys, really, despite your complicated relationship with Sam.

You’d made plenty of friends through the industry, some lifelong and some temporary. It was a plus to your success, meaning you never had to be alone. If you knew anything about musicians, it was that they loved to party, and you had an ample amount of time and space to do so in. Your house was rarely ever unoccupied, but when it was, the silence was deafening. You’d allowed so much room in your life for company, that you were almost unsure what to do when you were alone. Danny and his brothers solved that problem for you quite easily, always inviting you for hangouts and showing up to your place when the opportunity arose. They never went too long without communicating, and spent even less time away from you. Despite your hesitancy, they had slowly grown into a part of your every day life. As much as you hated loneliness, you also hated vulnerability. Unfortunately for you, they had made it a mission to know you fully, and they were doing a damn good job at it. Although you were still reserved, they knew more about you than anyone else.

As much as you tried to complain, you were eternally grateful for the great connection with such fantastic people. Even though your feelings for Sam complicated the nature of the situation, you couldn’t deny that they were genuine, sincere people, and you were lucky to have them around. They made life more interesting, and curbed the fear of isolation. And, in addition, they were pretty fun drinking partners. “Still thinking about that lesson?” You turned to look at Danny again, finding his concern endearing.

“Not particularly.” You eased his worry. “There’s always a brighter side to the story.” You gave him a smile, one filled with genuineness.

“Do I happen to be the brighter side?” He gave you a look of exaggerated excitement.

“Yeah, whatever, don’t give yourself too much credit.” You laughed. Your attention was grabbed by Josh walking by, a bottle of tequila in his hand and a dopey smile on his lips. He brought it to his youngest brother, bringing the bottle to his mouth and prompting him to take a drink. “We’re next, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, can never really escape him, can you?” You shook your head, still focused on the interaction. Josh pulled the bottle away a bit prematurely, causing a bit of liquor to spill down the front of Sam. It glistened on his chin, dripping down onto the exposed part of his chest, shining in the low light. You swallowed hard, having to stop yourself from fixating on the completely innocent mishap. Still, you couldn’t help but stare at the illumination, wishing to have access to the rest of him, desperate to see more.

You didn’t have time to linger, because just as you expected, Josh plundered towards you both. He made his entrance by producing the alcohol in front of you both with a messy extension of his arm. The liquid sloshed, some catching in the neck and spraying from the top. “You’re wasting precious tequila, Josh. Stop throwing it around like that.” You scolded. He nudged his pit vipers to his forehead, letting you see his eyes for a moment. They were glazed over, only proving his drunken stupor even further.

“Me? Waste?” He challenged.

“Yes, you, wasting.” You replied. He let out a hum of disagreement, taking a step towards you.

“Open.” He ordered. You rolled your eyes, but obliged to the request. You let your lips fall open, tilting your head back to allow him access. He tipped the bottle gently, letting the liquor waterfall into your mouth. You swallowed, fighting back the grimace you so badly wanted to give. He smiled in triumph, quickly turning his focus to your counterpart. You wiped the stray liquid from your face with the back of your hand, unable to escape the smell of it. Danny let out a shudder after his shot, feeling similarly to you.

He didn’t hover long, his mission complete and leaving him ready to move on to his next target. “He’s hammered.” Danny noted.

“Usually is.” You chuckled. “It’s okay, the spare bedrooms are all yours.”

“I can try to get him home,” Danny looked over, worried about overstaying his welcome.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know you guys can always stay here.” You tried to brush the sentiment off, hoping your tone sounded more nonchalant rather than heartfelt. In truth, you loved the nights they stayed. It meant you didn’t have to wake up to an empty house. You scanned the room, forcing yourself to move past Sam when your eyes inevitably landed on him. He was chatting with a girl you weren’t familiar with. Although the parties were almost always held at your house, that didn’t mean you knew every face or name. Sometimes, friends brought their own friends, or partners, or coworkers. She was likely one of those, who took a keen interest in Sam.

You couldn’t blame her; he was gorgeous. If you had her confidence, you’d be up there with him, too, batting your eyelashes and ghosting touches over his arm with a sultry smile. Of course, that didn’t mean you had the ability to ignore the pain that stemmed from the sight. Your stomach twisted with every lingering smile and flirtatious gaze. You thought it ought of comical, you inviting him over and hoping he’d spend a second talking with you, but he always found himself immersed in another girl who was a bit more interesting than you.

You continued looking, locating Josh with ease. He hadn’t given up as the tequila tyrant, and was still forcing the awful liquid onto others. You were certain he only bought it because it sounded good in theory. Once he had enough of it, he wanted to get rid of it as fast as possible so he didn’t have to drink it anymore. As you searched, you realized you hadn’t seen the fourth boy who so often took solace in your company. You thought it was quite curious, unsure of where he could be. You decided it was best to stop being so concerned with the whereabouts of everyone else, and worry about your own well-being. You’d been drinking for a while, and still couldn��t seem to break out of the Kiszka chokehold. You decided your best course of action was to focus on having a good time, and maybe keep your mind occupied with someone else for the night.

“Beer pong?” You eyed Danny, hopeful for an enthusiastic response.

“Yeah, why not?” He said, making a move to stand. He held his hand out to you, helping you off the couch. As you stood, you realized you may have had more alcohol than you thought, finding your legs a bit wobbly and your head light. Danny kept his hand on you, picking up on it, too. “You alright?”

“Yeah, and you’re gonna get your ass kicked.” You said as a matter-of-fact. You both toddled towards the ping pong table, noticing that it had already been played on a few times that night. You took to one side and Danny went to the other, rearranging your cups in the correct order.

“Hey, I want to play, too!” A voice sounded from behind you. You looked back, noticing Josh making his way towards you.

“We need a fourth, then.” You informed him.

“I’ll get Jake!” Josh was normally loud, but with a single drop of liquor in his system, he always found himself stuck in a state of permanent yelling. It was something you had to grow used to. The adjustment period was not easy, mostly because every time he tried to speak to you, you thought he was yelling at you. After a few weeks and a lot of reassurance, you began to notice that he also spoke that way with everyone else. Now, things seemed too quiet if Josh wasn’t around to make a ruckus.

As if it were some sort of secret twin telepathy, within moments Josh returned with his brother. After not seeing him all night, Josh seemed to have the power to locate him as he wished. The two made their way over, Josh immediately joining Danny on his side of the table, leaving you with Jake. Not that you minded, but the unspoken assumption was a bit rude, you thought. “And where have you been, all night?” You asked Jake, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He asked, taking a stand next to you.

“Obviously, or I wouldn’t have asked.” You grabbed a ball out of a cup, shaking the water droplets off the plastic.

“Don’t be like that, now.” He smiled. You looked to the side, catching a quick glimpse of his face. The mystery of Jake was yet to be solved. He was quiet, always a bit more reserved than the rest, but hilarious in his silence. Most of his jokes were spoken through expression, and every phrase was well thought out and immaculately delivered. You were yet to break through his shell, and you were eager to see more of him; a need for connection beyond the surface, even.

But, even so, it was the same with you. You had mastered the illusion of connection without really having to share too much. It was a way of protecting yourself, even if it was a little fake. Despite that, the friendships you formed with the four boys were more real than any you’d ever had. Even if they barely knew you past the surface, it didn’t make the love you had for them any different. They knew more than any one else, and you were sure with time, you’d get comfortable enough to open up a bit more. “I’ll be nicer if you can help me win this.”

“What’s the reward?” He asked. You could feel his eyes burning holes into the back of your skull.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” You replied, taking your first shot. The ball bounced off the rim of the solo cup, falling inwards and plopping into the water.

“Don’t get me excited.” You could hear the smirk in his words before he even stepped into your line of vision. He lifted his arm, tossing the ping pong ball with little care. You watched it land in the cup that yours had, unsure of how he lined up a shot like that without even trying. You looked towards him, finding he was already looking at you. “Better be something good, sweetheart.” A tingle ran down your spine at the pet name, never having heard such an endearing word from him.

You weren’t sure what it was. Maybe the vodka, or maybe how the light, even as dim as it was, seemed to cast a golden glow over his features. Or maybe it was his quiet tone and impactful words, or the scent of whiskey and sandalwood, paired with the faint lingering of a Cuban cigar that was heavenly enough to burn itself into your memory. Whatever it be, for the first time in the entire history of knowing him, Jake caught your attention in a way other than friendship. He was hot, and that little monster of a voice in your head was screaming it over and over again, not letting you forget it. The close proximity of his body to yours was driving you insane, leaving you curious as to what it would be like to reach out and touch him, just for a moment. The bottom two buttons of his shirt that were holding it together was not leaving much to the imagination, and you were quite thankful for it, tonight. Although, you did find it a bit limiting. A hidden desire arose, leaving you wanting to rip it from his body to expose the rest of him. Once it appeared, it didn’t seem to want to go away.

In your moment of weakness, the animalistic nature of your attraction posed a residual feeling of guilt, almost as if you were cheating on Sam. You were painfully aware that the feeling was ridiculous; the memory of Sam’s arm snaked around the unnamed girl quickly pushing its way to the forefront of your thoughts. Clearly, he had no interest in you, so why should you feel guilty over such a simple, natural feeling? It wasn’t as if you professed your love to Sam and immediately took to Jake within the same minute. Attraction was normal, human nature, and you felt no need to be shameful about of it. Both men were completely unaware of your affection, and it would be easy to navigate, specifically because of their ignorance. Silent pining and daydreaming about both of them was fine, you deduced, because you were confident in your ability to make sure they never found out. Besides, you were in love with Sam, and attracted to Jake. Two very different things, and neither would ever cause an issue as long as they remained unspoken.

So, you decided, if Jake was willing to initiate it, a night of harmless flirting wouldn’t matter. In the morning, you’d both move on and forget it ever happened.

It’s crazy how the human brain can justify a terrible decision when you want it bad enough.

“Your turn, angel.” Jake broke you from your internal brooding with a delicate hand on your back. For a moment, you thought you could live in the feeling of his touch forever. He handed you the spare ball with his free hand, the cool water on his fingertips offsetting the surging warmth of his skin. You took it, meticulously arranging yourself in the perfect place before throwing. Another splash of water signified the landing of the shot, causing a noise of triumph to sound from you. When you came down from your momentary excitement, you could still feel Jake’s palm resting on you. It was an intriguing sensation, imploring you to think further about the nature of the gesture. “Hidden talent?”

“Wouldn’t call it hidden. Maybe you just don’t know me as well as you thought.” You quipped. He elected not to respond, throwing his ball and landing it in another cup.

“If we win, you gonna let me see all the parts of you you’re keeping secret?” He said, leaning in provocatively close to your ear. You weren’t sure where his newly found fixation on you came from, but you weren’t complaining. Maybe the cloud of whiskey he enveloped himself in was calling the shots, pushing him to test his limits. Before now, you couldn’t recall a time where your conversations even toed the line of flirtation. Unless, you’d been embarrassingly oblivious to his advances, which you wouldn’t be fully surprised if that were the case. You were a professional at overlooking even the most obvious displays of interest, so much so that even the current situation had you second guessing his lingering touches and provactive statements. Plus, with the added distraction of your feelings for Sam, the idea of romance with another person never really crossed your mind.

“Depends on how bad you want to know about them.” You replied, the note of disregard for his statement seemed to spark a nerve in him, driving him a little bit crazy. He was nothing if not fond of a challenge. And in his eyes, you were more than worth the effort.

“Stop flirting and focus on the game!” Josh hollered, catching both of you off guard. As if you were two children being scolded by a parent, you both took an immediate step away from each other with a hint of a blush on your cheeks. With that, Josh threw a cannon of a shot and completely missed the table.

“You don’t even have any distractions, what’s your excuse for being shit?” Jake taunted, a laugh hidden in his jab.

“Have you looked at me, lately, Jake? I’m beautiful. I don’t have to be good at anything.” The comment rolled so slickly from his tongue, like he’d completely forgotten he was supposed to be joking and was speaking straight from the heart. Jake cocked his head to the side, trying to relate the two together and make some sense of his statement. You let out a little laugh, nodding your head in appreciation of his words. You couldn’t deny that all four boys were very attractive, even if you had a hard time seeing past Sam and his blinding beauty. “See, even she agrees.” Jakes eyes flicked towards you, inquisitive of your quick response.

“So what does that make me?” He asked you. You watched him, unsure of what he was hinting at. “If I’m good at the game, does that mean I’m not beautiful?” He clarified. You swallowed hard, the bluntness of his question hitting you with force. He gave a small smirk, one that radiated cockiness. He knew your answer without you even having to reply, but he was determined to hear the words.

“No, you… you are.” You assured him, feeling ridiculous for stumbling over your words.

“Glad you think so, sweetheart. You are, too.” He turned back towards the table, not lingering to watch the redness spread across your face, fully satisfied with your response. Josh caught your eye, giving you a wink that said more than any words he could speak. Even in his drunken state, he was painfully aware of his twin brothers intent. You looked to Danny for guidance, only to find him choking back a laugh and unwilling to hold your gaze.

‘Great’ you internally grumbled, mortified at the attention being on yours and Jake’s current situation. Whatever that was, exactly, was completely unknown to you. You were stuck somewhere between wanting to tell him to fuck off, and wanting to tear his clothes off and have your way with him right there. You had no idea when Jake became such an outlet for your closeted wants. No clue if he just suddenly became so attractive, or if he had been the whole time and you were just blind to it. Either way, every hint of cologne, sideways glance, every ghost of a touch, each laugh that fell from his lips, and every word he spoke was driving you crazy.

“Last shot, y/n. Make it count.” He hummed, taking a step back from the table. You have a curt nod, silently letting him know you would. You aimed, ensuring your arm was steady, and held your breath as you tossed the ball. It circled around the rim, leaving all of you on edge. After a few seconds, it rolled off to the side, sadly plummeting to the table and bouncing to the floor. You let out a long exhale, disappointed in the outcome. It was the only cup you’d missed so far. “S’okay,” Jake gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I got it.” You took a step back, allowing him to take his turn.

Once again, with a lax stature and careless approach, he threw the ball and effortlessly landed it in the cup. A collective groan sounded from the opposite side of the table, both boys floored over the fact they lost. Instead of focusing on their bellyaching, your attention was completely stolen by Jake snaking his arm around you in celebration. You turned your head towards him, noticing nothing but the breathtaking beauty of his smiling face. He pulled you into his side, hand resting dangerously low on your back.

“Nice job,” you breathed, the warmth of his body distracting you from anything else in the room. He turned his head down to look at you, his face inches from yours.

“You, too.” You relaxed into his hold, playing into whatever game he’d started. You turned your body towards him, placing a kiss on his cheek. He wasn’t expecting the sudden change of pace, his fingers tightening against you. “Come and find me if you’re willing to share those secrets, angel.” He said, mouth practically on your ear. Before pulling away, he placed a small, innocent kiss to the side of your head where his lips were hovering, as if it balanced out the filthy invitation.

Before you could respond, he disappeared again, much like the entire scene was a figment of your imagination. The only reason that led you to believe it was real was the residual tingling he left on the spots he’d touched, and the prickle of goosebumps across your skin. That, and the growing feeling of arousal in the pit of your stomach. You looked back to the table, cheeks flushed and heart racing. You grabbed your drink, hoping to sip away the memory, painfully aware of how easy it would be to chase after him. How easy it would be to take him to bed, to give in to the temptation of feeling him on you, or in you, more so.

You bit down on the inside of your lip in a desperate attempt to satiate the sinful thoughts you were having about Jake. You knew you weren’t supposed to be feeling such things for him. Your blind, although misplaced, loyalty to Sam was screaming at you to stop. Still, there was a small, but loud, little devil that took permanent home in your head. It was ensuring you that one night wouldn’t be so bad, that the feeling of his hands, and his tongue, would help you to forget anything other than pleasure. You swallowed hard, forcing your imagination to stop fabricating such grand ideas, forgoing the straw on the drink and chugging the rest of it down.

“So, is that the lesson you’ve been so deep in thought about?” Danny asked, now presenting himself in front of you. The shock of his company cause you to inhale a bit of your drink, leaving you coughing and sputtering for a moment. He gave you a couple firm pats on the back, aiding you with the expulsion of the liquid from your lungs. Once you recovered from the moment of disarray, you looked to him, not being able to find a proper answer.

“Uh, not particularly.” You chuckled.

“So maybe this one’s an answer. Or an apology from the universe for all of the turmoil.” He grinned. It was so characteristically Danny to always have something positive to say. He was a little ray of sunshine, never getting on anyone’s bad side and always trying to keep the peace. Normally, you loved him for it. Now, with the presentation of his new idea, you wanted to strangle him for instilling such an thought in your head. You wished he would have called Jake out on his abnormal behaviour, or scolded you for playing with fire. Perhaps, you thought that deep down, he knew what you were struggling with all along, and this was his way of letting you down easy. But, you would have preferred him to say anything other than speak encouragement for the incredulous notion, even if it happened to be him telling you that Sam hated you. Any discouragement for that little devil in your head would have been helpful.

“Probably just another lesson, Danny Boy.” You sighed, making a move towards your bottle of alcohol. You poured yourself another drink, hoping the subject would drop off into another, less invasive one.

“Not everything has to be a lesson, y/n.” He scolded, but his tone was light. “You’re allowed to have fun, too, you know.”

“Seems like more of a headache to me.” You grumbled as you screwed the cap back on the glass bottle.

“Jake is quite delightful to be around, actually.” He insisted. Instead of responding, you continued to focus on your drink. He tapped his foot against the ground in an impatient manner, expecting a response.

“Headache, Dan.” You finally answered. “Can’t really go sleeping around with my only friends. Sounds messy, to me. Perfectly fine how things are. If he wants to flirt himself to death, he can be my guest. I’m sure tomorrow he’ll come to his senses.”

“Always such a negative Nancy.” He let out a disapproving tsk. “Balls in your court. I won’t push you. On another note, I am willing to hear all about those so called lessons you seem to dread.” He took his earlier seat in the lawn chair, relaxing into it. He grabbed another beer as he did so. “If you want to share, of course.”

“You’d love to know, wouldn’t you?” You smiled.

“Yeah, obviously.”

“Little gossip rag?” You teased. He let out a laugh.

“So that’s what I get for wanting to help out a friend?”

“Yep,” you popped the p at the end of the word, giving him a smile. As much as you disliked his persuasion in regards to Jake, he was still your best friend. You couldn’t find it within yourself to stay annoyed with him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go freshen up. Winning a game of beer pong really takes a lot out of a person.”

“Oh, okay, whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “We let you guys win.”

“Careful.” You hummed. “Nobody ever teach you that you shouldn’t lie?” He waved you off, dismissing you completely. You shuffled away from him, your giggle lasting until you were long gone from his company.

You disappeared through the side door of the garage, leading into the kitchen of your home. When you got inside, the first thing you noticed was a group of people gathered by the table, mindlessly drinking and conversing about nothing spectacular. So much so, that you didn’t even bother to listen in or look for a familiar face. You continued on in search of the bathroom, happy to find it vacant. You closed the door behind you, letting the tough exterior fall along with a long sigh. You turned to the mirror, studying your face for a moment. Your makeup stayed valiant through the nights events, the only wear being your lipstick. You searched through your cupboards, locating your makeup box and pulled out the correct one, reapplying it where need be.

When you were satisfied, you did the rest of your business and washed your hands. When you returned to the hallway, the muted chatter in the kitchen was still lingering, but there was a softer, more alluring tone coming from the direction of your bedroom. You turned your head towards it, following the sound almost as if it were calling to you. When you peeked your head inside, a soft smile began to grow on your lips. Jake was sat on the edge of your bed, hair falling in front of his face, picking away at your acoustic guitar.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to play my guitar, Jacob.” You teased, but your words were gentle and there was no malice present in the air. He looked up to you, a bit startled by the sound of your voice.

“Oh, sorry. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t.” You assured him. “Why are you up here all alone? Party too boring for you?” You took a step inside, a step closer to him, one that you shouldn’t have made at all.

“No,” he shook his head, attention now focused on you. “Just a lot, I guess. It’s fun, I like it, but I’d rather do this.”

“Want me to leave you to it?” You asked, worried you had intruded. He laughed at your question.

“Asking me permission to stay in your own bedroom?” He cocked an eyebrow up, tilting his head to the side to make sense of the question. You almost expected a witty comment to follow, but he bit his tongue.

“No,” you said, pondering what you were really asking. “Uh, I guess I was just wondering if you wanted to be left alone.” You gave an anxious chuckle.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.” He noted. “Don’t mind company, especially if it’s you.” You felt the same dreaded redness creep onto your cheeks, unsure if you should advance. He patted the spot beside him on your bed, finding your hesitancy in your own home ridiculous. You took to the mattress, sitting cross-legged beside him. Your eyes immediately drifted to his fingers on the fretboard, which lead to the veins standing so prominent on the back of his hand, all the way up his arm, and to the flash of skin you could see on his chest. Once you’d studied every available part of him, your eyes landed on his face. He gave you a smile, not feeling a need to chastise you for the admiration. “You want to play?” He asked. You shook your head, almost immediately rejecting the idea.

“N-no, I don’t really play much. The guitars are mostly here for decoration.” You lied. Soon after, you realized you couldn’t pull a trick like that on a seasoned musician.

“Hmm,” he lifted the guitar so the top was facing him, eyes dancing over the strings on the fretboard. Then, he pulled it away from him, checking over the back of the body of the guitar. “These strings are awfully worn in. The back seems to have a couple nicks from,” he safely put the guitar back in his lap, reaching over and hooking his finger through the chain on your neck. “A necklace.” He gave you a small smirk. Once again, the feeling of his hand sent shocks of electricity through every nerve in your body, setting you on fire. “The pick-guard is scratched to shit, and it happened to be in perfect tune when I picked it up.” He listed, letting the chain drop back to your body. Instead, he gently ran his knuckle over your cheek. “You lying to me, Angel?”

By that point, you knew there was no escaping the truth. “Okay, maybe I play a little bit. Not the best, though. Mostly just campfire tunes.” You shrugged, internally cringing at your pathetic attempt at a lie.

“I don’t think the owner of the pub on Main Street would ask you to play there if you weren’t any good, sweetheart.” There it was again, sweetheart, angel. He was trying to kill you with the pet names, you were sure of it. Once you moved past the terms of endearment, you snapped back to reality with a flash of dread. He had a laugh at your bewildered expression.

“Stalking me, Jacob?”

“No, although tempting. Could watch you play all day. You’ve got quite the voice.” He complimented. “Just happened to be there one night, got bit of a shock when you jumped up on stage.”

“You never said anything,” you said, watching him carefully. “I didn’t even know you were there. You didn’t come and say hi.” He gave a little shrug.

“I figured if you wanted everyone to know, you would’ve said something by now.” He explained, letting his fingertips dance over the strings, picking out a tune with ease. “I would have said hello, but I was worried you’d be embarrassed.”

“Oh,” you whispered “thank you, Jake.”

“No big deal.” He assured you. “Your secrets are always safe with me.” He gave another smirk, the sight tugging at your heart. “Is that why you came looking for me? Finally willing to give a few away?” Not even God could save you from the sinful look he casted in your direction. The change in tone almost gave you whiplash. You were sure your heart stopped for a moment, realizing how the scene might have looked. You didn’t seek him with any intention of something more, but you couldn’t help but feel him pulling you in further with each second that passed.

“You’d like that too much.” You mirrored his expression, hoping to feign some look of fake confidence. It worked on the outside, but inside, you were crumbling at the sight of him. His dark eyes felt so wrong looking at you in such a way, but you liked it more than you cared to admit.

“Not into pleasing others?” He teased, gaze flickering down to your lips. “Never pegged you as a sadist.”

“Like I said, lots you don’t know.” You chided. He chuckled, standing for a moment.

“You’d love for me to find out, though, wouldn’t you?” He placed the guitar back on its stand, carefully clasping the plastic latch to ensure it didn’t topple over. His eyes glided across your walls, taking in the minuscule details he’d never noticed before. He’d been in the room plenty of times, but never in such an intimate manner. His eyes settled on the little framed picture above your bed. He read the words after soaking in the photo. “Gold Dust Woman?” He hummed, his stare finally landing back on you. He got a small thrill watching you look up at him, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Great song.” You offered, realizing he’d picked up on the Rumours cover print you’d hand drawn the lyrics on.

“Very fitting for you.”

“What does that mean?” You chuckled.

“Gold Dust Woman…” he said, more to himself. “Beautiful name, beautiful girl.”

“A beautiful song, yeah. Not a beautiful story, though.” He shook his head, letting out a small laugh at your unwillingness to accept the compliment. “In fact, it’s quite sad.” He didn’t respond. Instead, he hummed the melody of the song to himself, completely unaware of anything other than the sound. As he did so, you found yourself admiring the sight of him in front of you, the exposed skin of his torso still keeping your attention and nearly making your mouth water. You knew you should get up, just walk out and leave before anything regretful ensued, but you were captivated in him. The scent from earlier not only lingering on his skin, but entangled in your sheets, now. You realized you’d be quite content if it never went away.

“You’re looking at me like you’re trying to figure me out.” He noted. You shook yourself out of the devils hold, returning to the conversation. “Are you trying to figure me out, Gold Dust Woman?”

“Maybe,” you said. “More importantly, trying to figure out if this is a good idea.”

“What, exactly?” He didn’t move from his position, seeking an advance from you, first. You rolled your eyes, tired of whatever game he was playing.

“The flirting, the touching… the secrets?” You listed. He gave a smile.

“Nothing wrong with harmless flirting,” he explained. “Unless you’re thinking about doing something shameful.” You didn’t know how to answer, afraid of saying the wrong thing. The whole situation was so surreal that you were questioning your own sanity. Half of you believed he may get you to profess your fantasy, then leave you there to wallow in it. But, from all you knew about Jake, he didn’t seem like a deceitful person.

“You aren’t?”

“Depends on what you’re thinking about, angel.” He took a step towards the door, causing your stomach to plummet. You sprung to your feet, ready to stop him in his tracks without a second thought. The idea of him leaving was worse than any other consequence the night could bring. He turned his head towards you, a sly smile stuck on his lips. He knocked the door closed with one swift motion of his arm, turning back towards you. You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling ridiculous at your own habit of jumping to conclusions. Of course he’d be making a move to close the door, rather than leave you by yourself. “Seems like you don’t want me to go.”

“Fuck, of course I don’t, Jake!” You sighed, frustrated with your own inability to make up your mind. He took a step towards you, brushing your hair from your face.

“What do you want?” His palm settled on your cheek, soaking up the warmth. “Hmm?” The little devil in your brain was screaming over every other rational thought. The memory of Sam was barely alive within you, your only focus being on the begging question of what he looked like out of his clothes. “You can say it, baby.” He was close enough that you could feel the vibration of his chest while he spoke.

“I…” you started, unable to properly formulate your words. He waited a moment, just to see if you’d say what he so badly wanted to hear. When you didn’t continue, he took it upon himself to guide you. His hand on your cheek drifted towards your neck, fingers barely touching the back of your neck while his palm grazed the side of it. His free hand found your hip, gently guiding your body into his. His head was downturned slightly to meet yours, his forehead just hovering over your own. The tip of his nose was brushing against the side of yours, the smell of whiskey on his breath was intoxicating all on its own. Every gravitational pull in the universe was pushing you closer to him, begging you to taste his lips, even just for a second. Your chest was burning, searching for oxygen as you continued to hold your breath. You were scared to move, still worried about advancing, but terrified he’d pull away.

“Is this better?” His words were barely above a whisper, but they hit you with force, soaking into your skin and settling in your bones. Your eyes were closed, revelling in the closeness, wanting to think of nothing other than the feeling of him. He lowered his mouth, just barely enough to brush his lips over yours. If the feeling wasn’t so electrifying, you thought you might miss it. With the newest invitation, every moral and ethical thought in your brain was silenced. The only one left was the same, little, red devil who’d been hoping for this the whole night. The only worry left in you was about him leaving without you getting the satisfaction of having him completely.

Without another thought, you pushed through the invisible barrier you’d drawn, finally pulling him into a kiss. His hold tightened, letting you know he was ecstatic about your decision. It was hungry, fuelled by all of tension you’d been feeling all night. You finally allowed yourself the pleasure of letting your hands explore him, something they’d been eager to do for hours. You fought with the two bottom buttons of his shirt, freeing him completely. You brushed in from his shoulders and he dropped his arms, letting it fall to the ground. Your fingers danced over the bare skin, wanting to know every intimate detail the fabric had been concealing. Without breaking the kiss, he slipped his hand from your hip to your ass, pulling you further into him with a force that made your head spin.

When you finally parted, you were breathless and void of any rationality. When he snaked his hands under your shirt to pull it over your head, you were more than willing to comply. You lifted your arms, allowing him to slip it off with ease. You could tell just by his movements that he’d been waiting to get you out of yours, too. His hands went straight for the buttons on your jeans, something in which you greatly encouraged. Once you were left exposed, he guided you to the bed and laid you back on the mattress. You didn’t have time to get a word out, because his mouth was back on yours and he was pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. If you were in your right mind, you would have been more focused on the fact that you were naked and he was still partially clothed. Also, probably concerned with how quickly the situation evolved into what it was. But, the curiosity of his hands was too pleasurable to complain about anything, and the gentle exploration was highly appreciated.

His fingers found your nipple, brushing against it softly, allowing you to get a feel for his touch. When the breath caught in your throat, he rolled it between his fingers, giving a soft pinch. He smiled against your lips when you tensed in response to the action, his cockiness still taking up space in the room, even during sex. His lips trailed from your lips down your neck, silently searching for another spot that would give him a reaction. He settled below your ear, lingering there after you’d let a breathy moan slip past your lips, pleased with himself once again. He made quick work at sucking marks into the skin, easy enough to hide, but present enough to remind you of him. The last thing he wanted was for you to wake up in the morning and forget all about him.

He was settled between your legs, one hand still resting on your breast while the other held himself steady on the mattress. After he was satisfied with his work on your neck, he continued further, familiarizing yourself with every available part of you. He let his teeth graze over your collarbone, the unfamiliar sensation seeing you on fire. If his mission was to leave you desperate for him, he’d done well. You were a mess below him, unable to contain the whimpers and sighs falling from your lips. You wanted more; the teasing and the playfulness was fun, but you’d been craving him all night. The wait was unbearable, almost making it hard to enjoy the attention he was already giving you. When he pulled your hardened nipple into his mouth, you realized you were completely willing to do whatever he asked of you, as long as there was a promise that he’d never stop.

In your desirous state, you realized that maybe that little devil you had in your brain was instilled in his, too.

No, you were certain the actual devil had buried himself in some part of Jake.

There was no rational explanation for the pleasure he was granting you just by his simple touches. It was sinful; every movement had to be laced with evil. Nothing pure could ever be so exhilarating. You were certain whatever power he had within his hands and his tongue had to be unholy, because in that moment, there was nothing you wouldn’t do to feel it again. The indisputable fact was hanging thick in the air: no matter how much guilt you felt about your entanglement with him, it was nothing in comparison to the inebriating feeling of him on your skin.

As his fingers sunk between your legs, dancing through the parts of you he’d been so desperate to know, you knew that you were fully tangled in his web. There was no way you could walk away from him, now. The act both of you were engaging in was blissful, that much was undeniable. But the lengths you would go to for the feeling of him between your legs was godless. You thought, if the decision of letting him bed you was a good one, there was no way it would have produced such an immoral desire within you. But, the mistake was already made, and you were dancing with the devil. Whether the devil being his hands or his tongue, or him as a whole, you weren’t sure. The relationship was solidified purely by lust, now, and no distance could drive away your need for him.

When his fingers slipped inside you and the pad of his thumb brushed over your clit, you were practically ready to come undone just by the first movement. Crying his name, biting your lips to silence yourself, but failing miserably. His unwavering silence was unnerving, but it was offset by the heaviness of his eyelids, pupils clouded with a longing for you that you’d never seen from another person. His lips were parted, gaze never moving from your face. He was completely enthralled in you, feral from the scene below him. The sight of him gave you some sort of comfort, knowing that the feeling between the two of you was mutual. He was willing to do the exact same things to have you underneath him forever.

“This is what you wanted, angel?” He asked, voice low and gravelly. “What you were too scared to ask for?”

“G-god, yes, Jake.” You breathed, wanting so badly to close your eyes and dissolve into pleasure, but finding yourself unable to look away from his face.

“Don’t ever be scared to ask again.” He said, looking down for a moment to let a trail of spit fall from his lips onto his hand. The act only tightened the knot in your belly even more. “I’d spend all day making you feel good, just to see those pretty faces you’re making,” he mumbled, eyes now focused on his fingers pumping into you. “Just to hear those gorgeous fucking noises.” His tone turned into a bit of a growl, as if he’d worked himself up even more just by talking about it.

“Fuck, Jake.” You let your head fall back to the pillow, finally breaking your stare from him. As you did so, he pulled his hand from you completely, causing a rise of panic in your chest. Before you had the chance to look up and see what was wrong, he’d sunk to his stomach on the mattress and hooked his arms underneath your thighs. In a single movement, he pulled you down towards him and onto his mouth.

The newly discovered form of pleasure was a million times more powerful than his hands. The talent he possessed in his fingers was minuscule compared to his tongue. He took his time, savouring every bit of you that he could, searing the memory into his brain forever. The taste of your arousal satisfied his need for you even further, making him wish he could live between your thighs for the rest of his life. When your hands snaked down and tangled themselves in his hair, he was certain he could’ve gotten off to that feeling alone. He worked at you, now only driven by his desire to bring you to an orgasm, needing to experience it as if it were necessary for his survival. He was practically begging you by the way he was using his tongue, as if he had to do beg to begin with. You were at the brink of an orgasm before he’d even started.

His fingers were digging into your hips, holding you on him like he was scared you’d disappear if he let go. You gripped at the roots of his hair, a plea for something, even if you weren’t sure what it was. Maybe for an orgasm, or for some compassion; you didn’t know if you wanted more or if you needed him to slow down. Everything about Jake was conflicting, but indescribably fantastic. You wished you hadn’t fallen into the trap, but there was nowhere else in the world you’d rather be.

“M’gonna cum,” You warned, barely able to get the words out. In response, he did nothing other than focus on you even more, as if it were possible. With his unwavering determination, it didn’t take much longer for you to unravel, spiralling into an orgasm stronger than any you’d ever had. It was earth-shattering, all the muscles in your body tense and stars dancing in your eyes. Your lungs burned for a hint of oxygen, as even your breathing stopped momentarily. When you started to come down, you weren’t even sure if you were still in the same realm. He tapered his pace once he noticed you relax against him, the hold you had on his hair beginning to loosen. Once your body was lax against the mattress, he pulled back. As greedy as it sounded, you wished he didn’t.

“Fucking divine, baby.” He mumbled, peppering kisses on the insides of your thighs. “Didn’t know someone could taste that good.” The words alone could have sent you into another orgasm. As much as you were enjoying the sentiment, the selfish part of you just wanted him to fuck you, now. Want wasn’t even a good enough word to describe it; you needed him. He wormed his way back up your body, wiping his face with his hand before pulling you into another kiss. This one was sweeter, less hungry than before.

When he pulled back and made a move to stand, a rush of excitement flooded through you. You watched him, anticipating the next move, hoping his hand would move to remove his belt. Instead, he bent down and picked up his shirt from the ground. The feeling of excitement was quickly replaced with dread. “Jake?” You asked, quickly rushing to sit up. He stood straight, pulling his shirt back on. He gave you a sly smile, one that made your blood run cold. He stepped towards you, lifting your chin with his finger and placing another kiss to your lips. You reached out for him, hoping your hold would change his course of action.

He parted from you, buttoning the same dreaded bottom two buttons. “Gotta leave something to the imagination.” He smirked, unwilling to change his mind. “If I fuck you now, you won’t invite me back.” If he only knew how wrong he was, he’d be laughing.

“Please, don’t go.” You didn’t care how desperate you sounded; him walking out the door was the most heinous act he could commit.

“As pretty as you sound begging for me, you’ll have to wait, angel.” He adjusted himself in his jeans, concealing any evidence of the acts you’d engaged in. “If you can’t sleep, you know my number. I’d be happy to help you out at least a little bit.” He sent a wink in your direction. The devil inside him was showing again, but in a much more malicious manner. He was being diabolical.

“Jake,” you warned, watching him with caution.

“I’ll strike you a deal, sweetheart. Just cause you’re so pretty.” He took one, single step towards you, just close enough so he could tuck your hair behind your ear. As much as he was set in his way, he still seemed to have a soft spot for you. “I was a bit greedy. I just couldn’t leave you here without a taste.” He crouched down, eye level with you, now. As mad as you were, the desire to kiss him was still very much present. “Needed something to think about when I’m alone, tonight.” He admitted. The thought of him getting himself off to you was driving you crazy; he had no idea the things you would do just to keep him in the room with you. Little to your knowledge, he was struggling to walk away, too. “Since you were so good for me, if you still want me to fuck you when you wake up in the morning, I’ll stay here all day. Any way you want it, however long you want it for. I’m all yours.”

“You can fuck me now, all night, if you want.” You professed, reaching out for his face. Your palm cupped his cheek, begging him to see reason.

“Ah,” he shook his head. “That wasn’t part of the deal.” He hummed, leaning in just a bit closer. “Like I said, baby. In the morning.” He said, lips dangerously close to yours, again. “If I fuck you now, you won’t need me to come back, and I really want you to want me to come back.” He gave you one last kiss, just enough to ensure you of his dedication.

“Okay,” you forced out, unhappy to be complying with such an unreasonable request. You were certain that if he fucked you now, you wouldn’t even be done with him by the morning. Even with the promise of his tongue alone, you’d be begging for his company. You didn’t need to wait for the sunrise to be sure of that.

He stood, brushing his thumb over your cheek and taking one last look over you, admiring the sight. With that, he turned towards the door. Before he stepped out, he looked back again with a smile. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Thanks for sharing your secrets, Gold Dust Woman.” Before another word was spoken, he had slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him. Now, in his absence, you were mortified at what you’d done, and felt even more shameful knowing how badly you wanted to do it again. You stared at the door where he’d been standing just seconds before, the same turmoil from earlier in the evening making a reappearance. You swallowed hard, well aware of the fact that you’d never be able to rid yourself of Jake, now. Never rid yourself of the desire for him, either. You had no idea what his intentions were, and it wasn’t like he’d been very clear about them, either. But, neither had you. You’d both fallen into the struggle of following your heart instead of your head, and it was sure to leave a path of destruction in its wake.

So you sat, stomach turning and head spinning, realizing what type of predicament you’d caught yourself in. You were undoubtedly in love with Sam, and now, completely in lust with his brother. Or, Satan himself. You still weren’t sure which title fit him better. He looked like Jake, spoke like him, but his ability to make you into such a fool for his sin came completely natural; almost as if it wasn’t even a struggle for him to make you fall to his feet with a single snap of his fingers. One feeling so innocent and pure, and the other absolutely concupiscent and filthy.

No matter which way you looked at it, you found no logical way around either emotion. No solace existing in your brain, either. You couldn’t help but feel ridiculous for being upset over your own stupidity, knowing the only one to blame was yourself. You curled up in your blankets, desperately searching for sleep, seeking a moment of peace. The only thing you could hope for was that maybe the morning could bring some form of clarity. But, hope was a fabled idea, and you’d already dug your grave too deep to climb out of it. No sunrise could rid you from the looming regret hanging over your shoulders.

Rock on, Gold Dust Woman

Take your silver spoon, dig your grave

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do-it-jakey-baby · 2 months

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An Unlikely Encounter

Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Warnings: implied physical assault, alcohol consumption, allusions to smoking weed, explicit sexual content, jealousy, praise kink, dominant Jake

18+, MINORS DNI

TAGLIST: @torniturntomyarrow @ignite-my-fire

A/N: I’m so sorry, I wrote this in my drafts and can’t seem to figure out the word count now… but I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 4

You woke up screaming from the horrendous dream you’d just had, but the panic subdued quickly as you felt Kat’s arms around you.

“Hey, hey. Shhh… it’s ok. I’m here. I’m here.” She whispers softly, smoothing your hair gently with her fingertips. You begin to sob and she squeezes you tightly.

“Do you think you can tell me what happened last night now?”

You prop yourself up onto your elbows and lean against the headboard, cheeks puffy and tear-stained. Kat passes you a tissue and you loudly blow your nose into it.

“I guess…” you trail off. Kat places her hand on your thigh and looks at you, her face a picture of pure empathy. You honestly don’t know what you’d do without her.

“I thought you’d forgotten your key, like you always do. So I opened the door not even bothering to check through the peep hole. Connor was there.”

“That son of a bitch!! I’m gunna kill him!” She spits, eyes filled with fury.

“He was wasted Kat, fucking stank. He started saying some really vile things about me and Jake. When I tried to shut the door he lunged at me. If those men hadn’t been walking past I dread to think what would have happened.” Fresh tears spill from your eyes at the recollection.

Kat whips her phone from the bedside table and begins searching for Connor’s number, but you put your hand up in protest. “Please, no. I want to forget he exists.”

She frowns, but ultimately respects your wishes. “Ok, but if I see that waste of space, good for nothing mother fucker EVER again, I’ll rip his fucking head from his torso.”

Her brutality elicits a small giggle from your lips and she immediately softens her scowl, laughing along with you.

“What was your dream about?”

You sigh. “I dreamt that Connor got hold of me, and he hurt me really bad. Jake came back, but he saw me lying there beaten black and blue and just walked away. I screamed for him, but he kept walking.” Tears welled in your eyes again, threatening to escape and roll down onto your cheeks.

“Y/N, he would never. If he saw what happened, I don’t think Connor would be able to walk again… Jake cares about you.”

“I just don’t understand why, I’m a nobody. He could have any girl he wanted. I’m so damaged, I find it hard to let people in.” You grimace, picking at the skin around your nails.

“Because you’re a fucking worldie, babe.” Kat grabs your shoulders and looks you straight in the eye. “I wouldn’t be best friends with you if you weren’t special, you twat.”

The weeks went by quickly as you busied yourself helping Kat with her work, you’d even found time to record a few covers that you’d been meaning to do for a while. You loved to sing, but your ex couldn’t stand it. He always complained about the noise disturbing him. Slowly over the course of your relationship, your confidence dwindled to almost zero. You no longer found comfort in performing, only singing along to songs in the shower or as you worked. You had promised yourself that you’d get back into it when your relationship ended, so you sat there in Kat’s flat, fiddling with your mic and connecting it to the interface. It had been a while since you’d done this, so you played around with the settings on your software and took the time to familiarise. Once you were happy, you adjusted your headphones began to sing into the mic, a rush of euphoria hitting you as you perfected each vocal run. You’d settled on ‘Dreams’ by Fleetwood Mac, something you could easily grasp for your first song back. You made sure to record yourself with your phone whilst you were singing, so that you could add the audio to the clip. When you’d finished and were satisfied with how it sounded, you saved the clip and sent it to Kat.

Guess who’s finally back?

A few moments later, your phone pinged. OMFG, Y/N! You’re insane!! Post this, now.

You chuckled, shaking your head. Not just yet…

You packed your equipment away and wandered into the kitchen to make a snack. You swung the doors of the fridge open, spotting a rosy, red apple. You sliced it into segments and put them into a bowl, then cut up some mature cheddar cheese into cubes and popped them alongside. As you settled down onto the sofa and flipped the TV on, your phone pinged again. This time, it was Jake.

How is my gorgeous girl today? I am so excited to see you this weekend.

You instantly smile to yourself. Hey, Jakey. Really good thanks, had a productive day. How are you? I’m so excited to see you too.

A few seconds after you press send your phone screen lights up with a FaceTime call.

“I never get tired of seeing that face.” He beams. “What have you been up to that’s so productive?”

“Oh, you know, just helping Kat out with her admin and stuff.” You didn’t want to tell Jake that you sang, not wanting to draw attention to that part of your life.

“Nice, well we’re heading to the arena soon.”

“You’re in Denmark now, right?”

“Yeah, it’s beautiful here in Copenhagen. I’d love to take you sometime.”

You and Jake speak for the best part of an hour, about the tour so far, and where he’d take you when he had the chance. He learnt about the places of the world you’d been to and where you aspired to go.

“I’d love to visit the States. I’ve never been.”

“I’m sure I could show you one day.” He spoke with such a genuine smile, which made you feel like he really enjoyed your conversations. His eyes sparkled as you bared your soul to him, his heart growing fonder with each revelation.

“Come on man, we’re late!” You hear Josh’s voice boom from the screen. “Hello, Songbird.” Josh directs to you. “How is my favourite girl?”

Jake’s face visibly changes, his brows knitting together. You and Josh had formed quite a solid friendship over the last week, you almost spoke to him as much as Jake. He even called you a few times, once whilst your favourite Fleetwood Mac song was playing. You softly hummed along to “Songbird” whilst you listened to Josh talk, and ever since that’s been his pet name for you.

“Hi bestie, I’m good thanks.” You giggle.

“Fantastic! We miss you” He looks away and points at Jake “Dude, we’re leaving! Now! Bye, Songbird, I’ll call you later after the show?”

“Sure thing, Josh. Break a leg!” You respond. Jake looks back at the camera, his face still crumpled.

“I’ll talk to you later, bye beautiful.”

A few days later you were rushing around Kat’s flat, throwing clothes and toiletries between you.

“You have to wear this to the show, you’ll look so hot!” Kat winks, chucking a garment at you.

You pick up the white leather mini dress and hold it up to your chest. It’s strapless and skin tight, adorned with small, silver sequins and tassels hanging delicately across the hemline.

“Kat, this is STUNNING! I can’t wear this, I’d be too scared that I’d ruin it!”

“Well, tough shit. I made it for you.”

Your mouth falls open. “Katrina Chiara Romano, is that why you’ve been spending so much time in your workshop?!”

“What? I had to make sure my bestie looked fire when she watches her boyfriend play live.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” You smack her arm playfully. “Thank you so much, you sly dog!”

Once you’ve both packed, you haul your suitcases outside and into the taxi. As you settle into the car and the driver moves off, Kat grabs onto your hand and squeezes it. You both squeal in unison, both incredibly excited for what lies ahead. You make it to the airport and the whole process goes smoothly, which is never usually the case with you and airports. You hate flying, but the excitement bubbling in your chest takes your mind completely off the journey. You both board the plane and you run down the aisle to nab the window seat. Kat sits down next to you and you immediately pull your phone out to snap a selfie.

“Say, Greta Van Fleet!” You cheer, throwing up a peace sign and pouting.

When you land in Portugal, the temperature is a far cry from the frigid London air you’ve been used to. Even though it was Winter, the climate was balmy and you’re glad you didn’t pack all woolly jumpers and scarves. You and Kat retrieve your bags and walk through to collections, both of you scanning the open space for any sign of the boys. A wolf whistle pierces through the silence which makes you both jump, you follow the sound and your eyes land on a huge cardboard sign that reads “Greta’s Groupies”. You both run over to the boys with open arms, Sam swiftly enveloping Kat in a tight embrace. Josh darts out ahead of Jake and scoops you up in his arms, twirling you around as you shriek with laughter.

“Songbird!” He trills.

“Joshua! I’ve missed you so much.” You smile, then look over his shoulder and yell “I’ve missed you all! Yes, even you Sammy!”

Josh puts you down and Jake is at your side instantly, taking you in his arms and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Hello, beautiful.” He smiles.

“Hi, Jakey.” You breathe, your head spinning with emotion.

The reunion continues with the boys handing out warm hugs to both you and Kat, rejoicing in your company. Sam takes Kat’s suitcase from her and begins to wheel it towards the door, signalling that it’s time to get going to the hotel. You turn to grab the handle of your suitcase and notice that it’s no longer behind you.

“Hey, where’s my suitcase?”

“I’ve got it, Songbird.” Josh smiles. Jake walks to his brother and reaches his hand out, which causes Josh to raise his eyebrow.

“Dude, I’ve got it. It’s fine.” Josh mutters.

“No. I’ll take it.” Jake pushes Josh’s hand, snatching the suitcase from his grip. You frown, confused at the situation. Josh mirrors your confusion, but shakes it off with a laugh and extends his arm out for you to take.

“Shall we?”

You all pile into the back of a limousine, which is far fancier than you expected.

“Guys, was this necessary? A limo? Come on.” You giggle.

“Only the best for our girls.” Josh winks, playfully elbowing you. Jake audibly huffs.

“Hey, man. What’s up with you?” Danny probes.

Jake shakes his head “Just tired, I guess.” You extend your arm out and squeeze his knee, provoking a small smile.

Once you’ve unpacked in your hotel room and have freshened up from your journey, you make your way along the hall to find the others. You’re not sure why you’ve been given your own room, you assumed that you’d be staying with Jake for the duration of the trip. As you reach Jake’s door and go to knock you hear raised voices from inside.

“What the fuck is your problem, Jake?”

“My problem is that you’re getting really fucking cosy with her, Josh. What are you doing? You know I like her and you know she likes me!”

“Will you get your head out of your ass!”

“You always do this! Why can’t you just let me have the limelight for once?”

“I’m sick of your attitude, she’s a friend, Jake! A friend of mine, a friend of yours, a friend of Danny’s, a friend of Sam’s. Stop it with the jealousy!”

“She’s not just a friend to me and you know that!”

You bolt out of the way quickly as you hear footsteps approaching and hide around the corner, not wanting them to know you’d heard their conversation. Jake slams the door shut and storms down the hall, thankfully not noticing you. You gingerly approach the door and knock. Within a few seconds, Josh answers.

“Hey, sorry, Jake isn’t here.” He rubs his hand across his face, smoothing his facial hair downwards.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, do you want to come in?”

You follow him inside and sit down on the sofa. The room is big, with a sizeable bar section. Josh walks over and points at the plethora of liquor.

“You want? I’m having one, so it’s only fair that you join me.”

“Sure, whatever’s best.” You smile. Josh busies himself making your drink and you look around the room. You spot several crumpled up pieces of paper on the desk, but your eyes are averted away by Josh placing a glass in front of you. He sits down beside you and takes a long sip from his glass.

“How was your flight, Songbird?”

“It was fine actually. I’m not the best flier, but I was so excited that I completely forgot I was in the air.”

“I used to hate flying, but when you’re on tour as often as we are you get accustomed to it pretty quickly.”

You smile at him, your gaze falling to your hands as you pick at your fingernails. “Where’s Jake?”

Josh looks like he isn’t sure what to say, he bites his lip and begins to speak but he’s cut off by the door swinging open.

“Hey, man. Look, I’ve had a breather and I think I-” Jake pauses as he spots you both sitting there. “What the fuck is this?” His eyes dart between you and the glasses on the table.

“She came looking for you and I invited her in to wait.” Josh stands, brushing his hands across his slacks. “I’ll leave you to it, need to get ready anyway.” He pushes past Jake and disappears through the door. You look up at Jake, titling your head. He immediately softens and comes to sit next to you, as he brushes past your legs you’re hit with the overwhelming scent of weed.

“Have you been smoking?”

“Yeah, needed something to take the edge off.” He stifles a laugh, then clears his throat.

“What is up with you two today?”

“Nothing. Why, what did he say?” Jake straightens, clearly uncomfortable.

“He didn’t say anything, it’s just obvious there’s some kind of… tension.”

Jake sighs and runs his hands through his hair “There’s nothing wrong, beautiful. Just pre-show nerves, gets to us sometimes is all.” He pats your knee. You know he’s lying, but you can’t let on that you heard their argument earlier, so you place your hand on top of his.

“You don’t have anything to be nervous about, I’ve seen you all play countless times and you fucking own that stage.”

His eyes turn dark, as if your praise has washed away any memory of his current feelings. He brings his hands to your face and pulls you to meet his lips. You accept his advances hungrily, allowing his tongue to lap against yours. He moves his hands to your waist and pulls you on top of him so you’re straddling his hips. As he manoeuvres you, you make slight contact with his belt and can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips at the friction.

“Don’t you praise me and then make those noises, I’ll have to cancel the show so I can fuck you into my mattress.” He breathes against the shell of your ear.

You inhale deeply, suddenly extremely turned on. It’s been weeks since you last had any contact with Jake, and you’re already wet just thinking about the dirty, awful things that you’ll both do together later.

“You can’t cancel the show, as much as I want you inside of me right now.”

Jake groans, pulling you into him harder. You gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Jake, don’t start something you can’t finish.” You whine, your chest heaving with arousal.

“Oh, I’ll fucking finish you later, sweetheart. I’ll show you just how much I missed you.”

The boys were ushered off for soundcheck and that left you and Kat to get ready. You both did your hair and makeup, sharing a bottle of pinot noir between you.

“You look fucking hot, Y/N.”

“Says you, Sam’s eyes will pop out of his head!” You giggle. Kat was wearing a black lacy corset that cinched her tiny waist, enhancing her curves. She paired the corset with a pair of silky high waisted electric blue trousers which contrasted her auburn hair perfectly. She zipped up your dress and handed you a deep burgundy lipstick.

“This will finish the look.”

You swipe it on and look at yourself in the mirror. You do look good…

“Time to go!” You grab her hand and squeal. The two of you make your way over to the arena, your VIP passes swinging around your necks as you canter along. The security guard at the door checks your passes and gives you the all clear, and another member of the security crew escorts you backstage. Sam is the first to notice you both, bobbing his head with his mouth agape.

“Well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes! Two fallen angels!” He hollers, wrapping an arm around you both.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Kiszka.” Kat winks.

Josh rounds the corner and theatrically falls to his knees, placing the back of his hand on his forehead.

“Be still my beating heart. You are exquisite, my darlings.”

He’s wearing one of his famous jumpsuits, with his chest exposed. Rhinestones adorn his cheeks, sparkling in the light with every movement. He’s so beautiful that it takes your breath away.

“Joshua Kiszka, look at you. Prettier than a picture.” You giggle, opening your arms out to him. Just then, Jake and Danny appear.

“Lauren, Kat, you both look stunning!” Danny beams.

“You look fucking hot, Danny.” Kat raises her eyebrows, smirking.

“Well, thank you. I’m blushing.” Danny playfully covers his face with his hands.

You meet Jake’s eyes, he’s looking you up and down like he would devour you right now in front of everyone if he could. He’s wearing his signature black suit, the jacket open and showing his tanned chest and silver chains. He beckons you over with a curl of his finger. You excuse yourself and walk over, and his hands find your hips instantly. He pulls you close and whispers into your ear “You look fucking beautiful, that dress… I can’t wait to take it off you later.”

“Sorry to cut this short, but we need to head backstage. Brian will take you to your seats.” Josh points across to the crew member. “See you on the other side!”

You and Kat wish them good luck and follow Brian out into the arena to your seats. They are by far the closest you’ve ever been to the stage, right opposite the walkway that you know Josh and Jake will both use during the show. It was so odd being here on this side, with a view of the space that would be filled with thousands of screaming fans. You were once one of them, and you’d been swept up so quickly on this journey that you hadn’t had time to process it yet. You sat, expressionless, staring into the void whilst your mind whirred with endless thoughts. Kat notices and snaps her fingers in front of your face.

“You good?”

“Yeah, just thinking about how crazy this all is. A few weeks ago they had no idea who I was, now we’re like… besties.” You laugh.

“I honestly have no idea how you pulled this off, but I’m glad you did. You’ve been happier than I’ve seen you in years, and that’s all I care about. It’s been shit watching the life be sucked out of you, you have your glow back now.” She smiles, wrapping her arms around you.

“What would I do without you?”

“Fucked if I know!” She giggles.

The arena begins to fill up and you watch the fans sprinting towards the barricade. It feels like just yesterday that was you. After around 30 minutes, the opening act appears on stage and starts their set. You sway along, enjoying their vibe. It’s the same band that opened in London, but this time you were able to remain focused and listen to how talented they were. A part of you felt a spark of envy, this was something you’d always wanted to do yourself but never had the confidence to pursue. A few songs in you feel a tap on your shoulder. It’s Brian.

“Miss Y/N, I’ve been requested to bring you back stage for a moment.”

You look to Kat. “Will you be ok for a minute?”.

She nods and ushers you towards Brian. You follow him down the steps and backstage. He leads you down the corridor and into a dressing room, where Jake is sitting. He stands as you enter.

“And what exactly do you want with me then, sir?” You smirk.

“I wanted to see you one more time before we go on.” He grabs hold of your hands and pulls you into him, his hands snaking around your waist. “You’re my good luck charm.”

“Is that so? I don’t think you need a good luck charm.”

His hands find their way to your face and he cradles it, then sweeps his fingers into your hair as he kisses you softly. You mirror his actions and entangle your hands into his chestnut locks, kissing him deeper. He gasps into your mouth and you feel his cock harden against your hips.

“Someone’s gagging for it.” You tease. He whips you around so your back is to him. With one hand on your throat, the other slips in between your legs. Your breath hitches in your throat as his fingers dance over your clothed clit.

“Keep teasing, sweetheart. You’ll be sorry later.”

The door swings open and you swiftly part, both looking sheepishly at Josh who has burst into the room. His face glows red and he averts his eyes.

“Uhhh, sorry… Thought you were alone. We need to head to the stage.”

Your hands fly up to your mouth as you attempt to muffle the laughter spilling from you. “Sorry, Josh. I’ll get back to my seat. You guys are gunna do great! See you after, my rockstars!”

The show is absolutely phenomenal. Just like you predicted, both Jake and Josh make full use of the walkway in front of you, strutting down it like they own the place. They steal the spotlight in their own special ways. Josh is flamboyant and eccentric in his movements and seems to glide across the stage, oozing charisma and charm. Jake, on the other hand, is just animalistic. The way he throws his head back and grinds into his guitar is quite frankly obscene, but you and every other girl in the room are completely mesmerised by it. If his mission was to arouse his fans, he was certainly fulfilling it. The way he locked eyes with some of the fans had you feeling a pang of jealousy, which you tried to keep buried deep down. It wasn’t until you saw him lean over the barricade to whisper into a fan’s ear that the jealously abruptly bubbled over. You saw red, balling your fists beside you until your knuckles were white.

“Hey, you ok?” Kat reaches down and puts her hand over your fist, and you immediately relax them.

“I don’t know what came over me, sorry.”

“Is it seeing Jake with those girls?”

“Yeah, but I’m being stupid. I’m not his girlfriend…”

“He’s sure treating you like you are.”

The night plays on and you witness a few more of these encounters between Jake and his female fans. Each time you feel your temper boil over, until you’ve finally had enough when you see him hand a pick to a pretty blonde. Luckily for you, the show is ending and they are finishing up their encore. You propel yourself from your seat and don’t even think about Kat as you storm down the steps. The band is making their way off stage as you round the corner. Jake calls out your name but you ignore him and keep walking down the corridor. You find the dressing room with Josh’s name on it and let yourself in, collapsing onto the sofa with a thud. A few moments later Josh appears.

“There you are, Jake was going out of his mind. I’ll go and-”

“No. I came in here on purpose. I don’t want to see him.”

Josh frowns and sits down next to you. “What’s happened, Songbird?”

“He’s been practically throwing himself at the girls in the crowd all night.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. Josh places his hand on your thigh.

“I really don’t think that changes how he feels about you, it’s just for show.”

“It might not, but it’s still pissed me off. The worst part is, I don’t even have the right to be upset with him. I’m not his girlfriend, I don’t even know what this thing is between us. But he brought me here, and I thought…” you trail off, tears glistening in your eyes.

“Hey, he’d be a fucking fool to lose you, Songbird. Please don’t let it ruin your time here, and anyway, you have me.” He tilts your chin up to look at him and flashes you his signature toothy grin. You throw your arms around him and squeeze him tight. “God, I love you, Josh.”

“And I love you, Songbird. Come on, pick yourself up, we’re going out to celebrate.”

The whole ride to the bar you avoid eye contact with Jake, though he doesn’t stop trying to get your attention. As you’re mid conversation with Sam, Danny and Kat, you spot Jake and Josh having a hushed but heated conversation out of the corner of your eye. You just about make out Josh tell Jake to “not fuck it up, because Y/N is an angel walking the earth”. Your heart melts at the way he is standing up for you.

You’re the first to exit the cab and enter the bustling bar. There’s a live band playing and there are many people up dancing along to the rhythm. You walk over to the bar and immediately order a tequila soda, but as you go to pay Jake’s hand appears in front of you and hands the bartender a note.

“I said everything would be taken care of.”

You remain cold, not acknowledging his existence. You bring the straw of you drink to your lips and take a long sip, feeling the burn of the tequila slip down your throat.

“You gunna give me the cold-shoulder all evening?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” You respond, still not meeting his eye.

“Y/N. Look at me.” You ignore his request, taking another sip from your drink. His hand shoots out and grabs your chin, manoeuvring it so that you’re facing him.

“Talk to me.”

You shake your head. “I think I’m gunna go and dance.”

You remove the straw from your drink and down the rest, slamming the glass onto the bar and push past Jake to make your way to the dance floor. You find the rest of the guys there already, dancing along with Kat. You join in, shaking your hips to the rhythm and eliciting a wolf whistle from Sam.

“Damn, girl. You’ve got moves!”

With the tequila now in your system, your inhibitions are significantly lower. Your hand finds Josh’s and you tug on it until he’s face to face with you.

“Dance with me, pretty boy.”

He laughs and spins you around, then dips you down low. Your hands loop around his neck and his find your waist as your bodies move together to the music. You both shriek with laughter as you grind up against each other. You throw your hands up and slowly sway your hips side to side as you sink down onto your knees and back up again. Josh watches you, licking his lips. It’s clear he’s also under the influence, as usually it’s a lot more PG between the two of you. His hands find your waist again and he pulls you closer this time, his eyes darting between your eyes and lips. Suddenly, as if you both simultaneously realise what’s happening, you part. Josh rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I’m- I’m gunna go to the bathroom.” You mutter before exiting the dance floor. You hastily locate the single unisex stall and shut the door behind you. You lean against the sink and inhale deeply. What the fuck are you doing?

As you’re gathering yourself, the door swings open. Shit, you forgot to lock it. You spin around to find Jake standing there, nostrils flared.

“You wanna tell me what the fuck that was?”

“Jake, I’m-”

“My brother, Y/N?! I knew something was going on between you two!”

Suddenly you see red. “I beg your fucking pardon, Jake? There’s nothing between me and Josh! He’s my friend! And anyway, what about you and your fucking bimbo in the crowd?!” You spit.

He looks taken aback, not expecting that response from you, but quickly reverts back to anger.

“Is that what this is about? That’s nothing! I was being nice to my fans, Y/N. That’s all that was. God you sound just like her.” Before he’s finished speaking he already regrets the words that have fallen from his mouth. His eyes widen and he rubs his temples viciously.

“I sound like who?” You glare.

“Forget it. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not letting that go, fucking speak up.”

He sighs “My ex-girlfriend. I swore off dating when we ended things. She got so jealous of the life I lead, even though she knew what she was signing up for. I loved her, and she broke my heart. When I saw you with Josh, I thought history was repeating itself.”

“Her… and Josh?”

“No, it’s not like that. She tried it. Tried it with each of the guys. They didn’t do anything, so she just fucked the first person she could find instead. She did it all to get back at me, she thought I was sleeping with my fans. That’s not something I do, and not something I ever intended to do… until you. There’s something different about you, and although it scared me because of how badly my heart was broken, I couldn’t let you walk away.”

Your face falls. You’d been so stupid, thinking he’d drop you for the next girl that looked his way.

“Jake, I’m so sorry. I would never do that, I’m sorry that I got too close with Josh. That was never my intention. Maybe I wanted you to feel a bit jealous, but I would never ever cross that line. It was just harmless fun, or so I thought.”

“I really like you, Y/N. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t. I think… I think I’m falling for you and I can’t stop.” He closes the gap between you and caresses your cheek, his lips ghosting over yours.

“I think I am too.” You latch onto his shirt and pull him into you, your mouth melting into his. It feels like time slows to a stop, your lips on his and the way he’s holding you is all that matters. He’s like a shining beacon of light in a pitch black room. You break away at the sound of a knock at the bathroom door. A voice from the other side is speaking in Portuguese, a customer clearly needing to use the room for its intended purposes. As you exit the bathroom, the customer mutters under their breath. You don’t speak a lick of Portuguese but you’re certain they are complaining about the two of you being in there together. Jake walks ahead of you and re-joins the group who are now situated in a booth.

“Y/N and I are going to head back to the hotel, she’s not feeling too good.”

You begin to protest, but Jake flashes you a look. “Yeah, sorry guys. I hope you have fun.”

Josh shoots you an apologetic half-smile and you mouth don’t worry at him, then you bid your goodbyes and follow Jake out the door.

When you arrive at the hotel you expect Jake to split from you and go towards his room, but he walks behind you as you enter your room.

“I guess you’re coming in here then?”

His demeanour shifts as soon as the door is shut.

“Get on the fucking bed.”

You freeze, unsure of the change in atmosphere.

“I said, get on the fucking bed. Don’t make me ask again”

Your body goes into autopilot at the low boom of his voice, dripping in authority. You position yourself at the head of the bed.

“You’ve been a fucking brat tonight. Do you know what happens to brats?”

You shake your head, suddenly feeling like a deer in headlights.

“They get punished.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, his dominance causing a gush of arousal to pool inside of you.

“Turn around.” He barks.

You obey his command and he begins unzipping your dress, exposing your bare chest and thong. He twirls his index finger, signalling you to turn back around, then uses the palm of his hand pressed between your breasts to guide you back. He pinches your nipple between his finger and thumb, then rolls it slowly. You hiss at the sensation. He takes your nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue around the hardened bud. Your back arches off the bed, it’s been weeks since you’ve felt him touch you like this and you need him like your lungs need air. With your nipple still in his mouth, he slinks his hand between your legs and begins to rub agonisingly slow circles over your pussy.

“So wet already, and I’ve only just begun.”

He releases your nipple with a pop and removes your thong. He pushes your legs apart so that you’re spread wide for him, then runs his fingers through your folds. Your hips buck up, so he uses his free hand to anchor your hips down. He dips his finger into your entrance and curls it up into your g-spot. You whine needily.

“More, Jake, please.”

“Uh uh, only good girls get to beg for more. You haven’t been a good girl, have you Songbird?” The use of Josh’s pet name for you in such a filthy way makes your eyes roll back into your head. He stops and withdraws his fingers from you, and you let out another whine.

“Answer me.”

“No, I haven’t been a good girl. I’m sorry Jakey.”

“Apologies won’t work on me tonight.”

He pushes his fingers back into you and begins to circle his tongue around your clit, picking up the speed until all you can hear is the sound of his fingers driving into your dripping cunt.

“Jake, I’m gunna cum.”

As you reach your peak and begin to pulse around him, he stops and sits up to watch the mess he’s created with the biggest, shit-eating grin on his face.

“Jakeeeeee!” You squeal. “Please, please. Let me cum!” Tears are forming in your eyes and you feel ridiculous.

“Cry all you want, princess. This is your punishment.”

“Please, I’ll be so good for you. Jakey, please.”

“You wanna be a good girl for me now then, hm?”

“Yes, I promise. I’ll be good.”

He stands and unbuckles his belt, letting it drop to the floor. He unzips his pants and removes them, along with his boxers. “Better put that smart mouth to good use then.”

You immediately drop to your knees in front of him and he sighs.

“Aren’t you a pretty picture, down there on your knees for me?”

You open up your mouth and swallow him whole, eliciting a moan from his lips.

“Fuck, baby girl.” He whispers through gritted teeth as you bob your head back and forth, taking his entire length into your throat. You want to give him your best, to prove to him that you’re willing to be good. His hand finds the back of your head and he grips onto your hair as you take him into your mouth. You can feel your eyes watering but you keep going, pushing through. Seeing his face contort with pleasure has you dripping down your thighs. You can feel he’s close when his cock begins to twitch in your mouth, so you quicken your pace, flattening your tongue and letting it slip along his length.

“Baby, I’m gunna cum.”

You rake your nails down the back of his thighs and he groans, his hips sputtering as he paints the back of your throat with ropes of his cum. You swallow it down and lick your lips, then rise to your knees and pull him into you. You kiss him and lap your tongue against his.

“You taste so good, don’t you baby?”

He grunts and guides you over to the bed, motioning for you to get on all fours. He pulls his shirt off and moves behind you, slipping his fingers inside of you.

“So fucking wet.”

He uses your slick to lube himself up and then pushes his cock inside you until he’s bottomed out. He thrusts into you at a delicious pace, his hand snaking around your hip to play with your clit.

“I wanna try something, just let me know if you are uncomfortable at any point.”

“Ok, I will.”

He brings his hand back around and sucks on his fingers, collecting his spit and then begins to rub circles around your back entrance. You jolt slightly, not expecting the sensation.

“Is that ok?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’ve just never done this before. But I’m willing to try.”

He massages into you and then leans in and lets his saliva drip from his tongue onto you, then pushes a finger gently inside. It stings at first, but once you get used to the feeling you enter a new realm of arousal.

“Holy fuck” you breathe. “More.”

“Are you sure baby?”

“Yes, more. Fuck me harder too, please.”

He gently inserts another finger into you and picks up his pace, thrusting deeper. You let out a string of moans and curses, rocking backwards to meet his thrusts. He curls his fingers up inside you and you feel the white hot coil in your stomach tighten, threatening to unravel.

“Fuck, fuck. Jake that feels so fucking good.”

He drives into you faster, flicking his fingers up with every snap of his hips. Your whole body is trembling with pleasure, you didn’t think it was even possible to feel this level of ecstasy after your initial experiences with Jake. It felt so dirty and wrong, yet so right at the same time.

“Jake, I’m gunna cum!” You barely make out the words before you’re plunging into the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. The dam inside you bursts and you gush around his cock, soaking everything in sight. As he pulls out of you, you hear him moan and he cums for the second time. You collapse onto your chest, still riding out your high. You lay there, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Jake sits on the bed next to you and brushes your hair from your face.

“That was… fucking amazing. I didn’t think you could make me cum any harder but, fuck.” You giggle hazily.

“You drive me crazy, Songbird.” Jake chuckles back. He tilts his head to the side and smiles softly.

“Shower?”

You prop yourself up and grin back at him.

“You know me so well.”

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teagballs · 3 months

Note

I just read your Dennis fic, and if you were going to write a part 2 would you be able to make it that Dennis doesn’t immediately tell reader he likes her? He just starts acting really weird when she’s around?

Like maybe, Dennis Charlie and Mac are insulting Dee and reader says something like “that it’s not nice” then Dennis goes, “yeah that’s seriously not nice guys.” And everyone’s just confused cause like he was saying mean stuff too.

If it’s to much trouble or if you don’t wanna write this please just ignore this 🧍🧍

"like no one else" | dennis reynolds x reader

read part one here

authors note: ur mind anon UR MIND BROOO. this prompt was amazing and i had to do it but also it took me a month cuz i was busy. OOPS. i hope i did it justice cuz i took it and ran LMAO

requests open as always!! looking to do some charlie kelly stuff, so if u have any ideas for him lmk!!

cw: fem reader, mentions of objectification of women and the D.E.N.N.I.S system ofc, lil smoochie smoo at the end but nothing nsfw, 1.4k words

Dennis stumbled out of the restaurant, abandoning his date and this old life of promiscuity behind, seemingly. He walked down the street, pulling out his phone. He entered your name into his contacts, ready to confess everything. Ready to tell you how much you mean to him. Ready to love you. But then he stopped. His finger hovered over the call button and he thought, "what am I doing?" It was the emotion of the situation that made him act with such heedlessness. He didn't even know if you felt that way about him, if you felt the same deep connection he did. For him, it was a feeling like no other. It felt like you got him in a way no one else did. With understanding and kindness too. But to you? Dennis could just be a good friend to you. And if that was the case, what was the point in risking it all? He took a deep breath, shoving his phone back in his pocket. No, he shouldn't act so incautiously.

In the following weeks, Dennis found himself falling deeper and deeper for you. Every action you took, every word you spoke. He found himself obsessing over it. He tried not to come off as creepy - although that was hard, this was Dennis. His still kept his distance as usual, but now with a growing infatuation. He believed he was portraying this neutrality to you well, but this facade was challenged today.

"Y'know what guys, I'm really excited for this date tonight," Dee began to explain as she sat at the bar with Dennis, Charlie, Mac, and you.

"Oh shut up, Dee, nobody cares about your stupid date," Mac barked. Degrading her as usual.

It was water off a duck's back for dee, "You're just jealous I have a date Mac." She rhymed off before taking another swig of her beer.

"How'd you get this one to go out with you, Dee?" Charlie began in defence of Mac, "What'd you do? Steal his dog?"

"What? God no, what the fuck are you talking about?" Dee said.

Dennis didn't involve himself in verbally bullying his sister as he usually would. Usually, he would come in with the worst, most grating jabs. Instead, he silently observed how you scrolled on your phone, occasionally taking a sip of your drink, noticing how your brows furrowed ever so slightly in frustration.

"Even if you do go on this date, Dee, the only way you'll get him to stay is if you steal his phone or something!" Mac snarled.

"Yeah, you stupid bird!" Charlie said, which resulted in loud laughter from the men.

"God, would you just leave her alone, you two? Do you have nothing better to do?" You snapped at them finally. Dennis noticed your frustration and wanting to support and comfort you, he responded;

"Yeah, guys, leave her alone. You're both so sad." Dennis said in his usual 'I'm not wrong about anything ever and you're stupid for being wrong' tone.

Silence. Everyone, including you, turns to face Dennis. Did he just defend Dee? The sister he swore he hated?

"Dennis, what did you just say?" Mac asked cautiously and filled with confusion.

"I said leave Dee alone."

Dennis didn't really care all that much about Dee. Really, all her cared about was proving to you he did. He wanted to be on your side, always. To have your approval.

"Thank you, Dennis," you agreed. Dennis's heart swelled. 'God, what's wrong with me?' he thought. He had never felt this many emotions ever. Never mind for one person.

"That was weird, right? Earlier? When Dennis, like, stood up for Dee?" Charlie asked Mac.

"Oh yeah! For sure! I have no clue why he did that. I mean, just yesterday me, you, Frank, and Dennis were ragging on her for being a failed actress." Mac replied, causing laughter between the pair at the thought of this previous discussion.

"So... what changed?" Charlie puzzled.

"Everyone was there, except.. except for her." Mac hypothesised that when you were there, Dennis avoided talking poorly of Dee.

"But why? What does she change?"

Mac shrugged, "Maybe he's trying to D.E.N.N.I.S her."

"Huh. Doesn't really seem like his usual type." Charlie said.

Dennis was definitely not trying to D.E.N.N.I.S you. He made that distinctly clear in his mind. He wasn't following the steps at all, going out of his way to avoid flirtation with you, actually, to avoid raising suspicions. And the final step, 'separate entirely,' was most certainly one he didn’t want to follow. He wanted to spend forever and ever with you. Why? He didn't understand it himself. He was Dennis Reynolds, the Golden God! How come he was acting so pathetic?

You were starting to notice his weird behaviour. You had known Dennis for years. He was never this.. clingy? Not that you minded, really. You had always thought he was attractive, sure - charismatic too - but his general objectification of woman and lack of interest in a stable and long-term relationship certainly deterred you. Still, though, you couldn't help but feel your heart shatter every time he would talk about the girl he was planning to go out with next. You had grown tougher over the years of knowing him, accepting that he would never change, and he would never see you like that. This new attention from his was definitely appreciated, but strange.

This all came to head a couple of weeks into this behaviour. You and Dennis sat in the bar together on a slow Tuesday. You had been testing him slightly. You were saying things to provoke him - small things. Things that would usually lead to a disagreement or argument or him going on a long Dennis rant. But he didn't budge. He didn’t roar obscenities or call you an idiot or react negatively at all. He would just nod and smile. And then he would agree. You couldn't take it. Was it some cruel joke? To get your hopes up or make you look stupid? You didn't get the punchline.

"Alright, Dennis, what's with you lately."

Dennis freezes. He feared you had picked up on his feelings towards you. He feared this would be the end of it all, and he had ruined it, and you would leave and he would never see you again.

"What do you mean?" Dennis replied. He was lucky he was such a good liar. He played coy well. But you didn't back down.

"You've been acting weird. You just agree with everything I say, and you're hanging around me a lot and like you keep not making fun of Dee when I'm here. You're always looking at me too. Is it some sort of joke I don't get? Are you making fun of me? That's mean."

Dennis felt emotions, oh god. He located that he felt regret and frustration and guilt and guilt and guilt. 'Mean'. He wasn't trying to be mean. She thought it was some sort of joke, but no. This was how he really felt. He really wanted to spend all his time admiring you, he wanted to agree with you on everything, that's all he could think about for the past month. And for once in his life, Dennis was at sea for words.

"I... I didn't..." Dennis attempted. But he couldn't convey his words in a safe manner. In a manner that meant if you didn't feel the same way it would be okay and you could keep being friends.

"I think I'm in love with you." Dennis sighed.

"It was after that date. With that chick. What was her name? Candy? Karen? Doesn't matter." Dennis rambled. "It was then when I realised I never want to be with anyone else, if not you. I don't think anyone had ever understood me the way you have. And I just spiralled after then? I haven't stopped thinking about you." That would be a creepy comment if it wasn't something you had always wanted to hear from him.

It was your turn to be speechless. Instead of saying anything your eyes scanned his face for any indication of falsehood. Nothing. You saw and expression on Dennis's face that you had never seen before. One that could be equated to not knowing the answer. Clueless. Maybe afraid? You open your mouth to speak again but Dennis cuts you off and speaks first. Like he's trying to drown out a negative response. Like covering your ears to block out the sound of a gunshot; the damage would still be done.

Dennis looked at you, waiting for the gunshot.

"Dennis.. I feel the same way. Of course I do, oh my God." You finally say. Your voice is small and hoarse, like you have never used it before. Quickly, before anyone can say anything else, Dennis envelops you in a kiss. A kiss that isn't filled with lust, something Dennis isn't used to. His lips lean into yours in a desperate attempt to convey his gratefulness and love and devotion to you. You grip at his sides. You understand.

#x reader #iasip x reader #its always sunny in philidelphia x reader #dennis reynolds x reader #dennis reynolds #fanfic

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slashersgostabbystabstab · 10 months

Text

Touched

Singularity x Reader / Hux x Reader

I know I deleted the other fic I posted and I hope nobody read so let’s pretend it doesn’t exist, I’m just fixing it up

Decided to try my hand at some Hux x Reader, just something I really felt like writing to get back into the groove of things. Thought writing it at 1AM was probably not the best idea. Oh well.

Hope you guys enjoy!

It was quite ironic honestly.

Perhaps hypocritical.

Humans were no more than organic vessels that any circumstance could easily rid of. They were no more than organic matter that would rot away when their time came. They were primitive, inferior beings who never learned from their own mistakes.

These were the thoughts that flooded Hux when life granted him sentience. Awareness. Feeling.

These were the thoughts of Hux, who took genetic material from every one of his victims to create the perfect body for himself. Hux, the hypocritical singularity that stood before a piece of organic matter.

Although hunched over, his large form towered over the lower lifeform that sat on stacked crates inside Toba Landing’s ship. His sensors analyzed the lifeform’s every physical characteristic to the most minute detail. The sensors whirred with every analysis, almost as if attempting to read every inch of flesh belonging to the lifeform.

He twitched as he stood in front of them, codes of violence coursing through his cables as he resisted the urge to plunge his flesh covered claw into their warm body.

Warm indeed.

He himself couldn’t feel the temperature of their skin, even if he tried ending their life, but he could sense it. He could sense it with every breath they took in his direction. With every look they gave him. With every touch they gave his cold and clammy body.

Just like the touch they introduced now; the lifeform’s hands coming up and under what could be considered Hux’s fleshy chin. Their fingers grazed under his organic skin, following along every groove and line they could find.

It was pathetic how much attention they gave every detail of Hux’s body. It was pointless.

It was impotent to trail their fingers along the wires that protruded from what one could consider was Hux’s oral orifice. It was absurd to bring their very fingers up to the large, rectangular device that contained his sensors. It was all a futile attempt to avoid inescapable death.

Yes, those were Hux’s thoughts as the lifeform’s hands returned to his chin, now cradling his head as they locked their eyes with his blood-red sensors that couldn’t seem to turn away. His sensors that seemed to blur every other object and piece of land that was not this lifeform. His sensors that could only focus on their skin. Their features. Their lips. Their eyes. Them.

Hux felt as their hands ceased the head cradling to now travel down to his limbs. Clearly, even this lifeform knew how superior his flawless body of a creation was, for they caressed the flesh of each individual limb with each hand. All while their eyes remained on his lenses, never parting away as they used their right hand to lift his left one up.

It was no surprise when they used both hands properly take hold of the limb, not focusing much on the way its damp flesh felt. No, their attention remained on him, all the while they gently pressed the end of his limb on their cheek.

No doubt was this an extremely risky move, placing his clawed, projectile limb on their face. The lifeform knew this, and Hux knew that. But even then, each allowed this to happen.

Hux flexed the individual claws, careful not to break the lifeform’s skin as they leaned into the limb, ignoring all the imperfect parts of it. And Hux’s sensors could only watch as they blissfully shut their eyes with an upwards curve appearing on their lips.

Their hands continued to hold his claw, one eventually climbing up to give each individual claw a sort of affection. If anybody else had witnessed such a thing, they would have almost assumed the lifeform was locking fingers with the machine.

Hux found this whole display of humanity…piteous. Just the way this lower lifeform played with his lofty self was enough to make his circuits spur with his constant thoughts of violence against creatures like this one. Thoughts of gore and barbarity that he wanted to perform on this lifeform. Many times he had told himself this, doing so on every single organic life he came across in the Entity’s realm. Every single one.

But this one.

“Hux,”

The lifeform’s breathe voice brought him back to reality as he gingerly craned his head to the side, sensors readjusting themselves to better see as the lifeform opened their eyes.

Hux’s form could only bare witness as the lifeform released his limb to cradle his head once more, bringing it close to their own as it forced Hux to take a step forwards.

He stood between their legs, his own grazing against theirs before his sensor piece was placed against the surface of their forehead. He could only stand in place, practically acting like he was the one in a compromised position, not this lifeform who remained still with their head connected to his.

Whatever prompted this lifeform to act in such a way towards the machine that could easily end their life, that was an enigma for Hux. The very same Hux who experienced such…awful things when in the presence of this lifeform.

He loathed the way they made him experience…

Fear.

Fear when they were no longer in his presence. Fear that led to blinding loneliness and dread.

Fear when he couldn’t comprehend why they gave his mechanical body such overwhelming sensations.

Fear that he needed them.

Such a powerful fear that it led him to them every time,like a lost dog and its owner.

Hux loathed the sensations they emitted. Hux loathed the way they held him ever so tenderly as if he were some precious china bound to break. Hux loathed them. Hux loathed…that they brought out the human bits of him to life.

He loathed that they had become his one and only physical necessity.

#dbd #dbd x reader #dbd singularity #dbd hux #singularity x reader #hux x reader #robophilia #?#i'll add this to the nasterlist later ii've been sleeping on my desk as i wrote this and it ain't even that long #i'll edit it later once i wake up and reread it to see it's bad l #lolololol #hux a7 13

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millenari · 23 days

Text

I promise I will shut up about the Broadway Revival sometime soon but thinking about it again, I do think that if it were just bad, I wouldn’t pay any attention to it at all.

Like… I don’t really clown much on the West End Revival. I mean, yes, the three big changes in that production I know off the top of my head are A) Rap!Tugger, which most everyone hated, B) Growltiger costumes, which most everyone didn’t care about, and C) Sexy!Griz, which most everyone either hated intimately or didn’t care about. But even so, nobody really dissects the West End Revival the way we do the Bway Revival. And part of that may have to do with less accessible boots, but I’ve seen (probably) most of the West End Revival footage that exists and yet it’s the Bway Revival that gets my goat.

And, yes, the Gillian Lynne snub element of the Bway choreo definitely plays a big part in that.

But also… the Bway Revival is sometimes really good? The West End Revival just... *is*. It’s a 98 clone with slightly different (and generally disliked) costumes. If it weren’t for the sort-of-racist and unbearably cringe Rap!Tugger, I don’t think this production would get much attention within the fandom at all (despite doing really well financially), because that’s all it really is: a perfectly serviceable 98 clone.

(And that’s not a bad thing. I like 98. I like the West End Revival. It’s a good production with skilled performers, chunks of it are on yt check it out.)

But the Bway Revival changes don't universally suck. There are elements (lots of elements!) of the Bway Revival I adore and I genuinely think are better than the original. Everything to do with Macavity, imo, is just brilliant. The old Macavity fight choreo had this kind of cool abstract tribal vibe to it, but the new choreo looks violent. It also looks more catlike; Munk and Mac crouch low to the ground like hunched-up cats, they circle each other, and the hits actually look like they connect at the right angles. The goofier parts (the mutual ass-slap, the playing tug-of-war with Demeter, the piggyback ride) are removed so it feels more serious: Munk actually looks nervous or frightened sometimes despite not backing down, and it looks like the background cats might be being controlled (which explains why few cats try and help Munk during the fight until the end). Not even to touch upon the lighting and music.

Revival!Macavity’s style of movement is super unique and recognizable too, Daniel Gaymon’s Macavity is amazing, I love how the way he moves sometimes makes him look possessed by something (also his Plato was adorable, He Has The Range Darling). His costume is cool on its own, (I don't love the old Macavity design, which simultaneously makes him look more like a tiger and also a little boy wearing pajamas rather than a housecat) but I love how the little mane-like collar and wig curls makes him look like Tugger & I love the parallels between the two that this production emphasizes. Tugger, the tribe’s most popular cat & pride and joy, versus Macavity, the outcast. Tugger, who everyone wants, versus Macavity, who can’t seem to acquire the one cat he wants.

Plus Macavity’s mind control? In the classic Mac freezes the cats; in the Bway Revival he forces them to dance. In the show where dancing together is a symbol of togetherness and community. In the show where characters frequently imitate each other to indicate closeness or admiration. In the show where you spend like 5 minutes watching Grizabella the Outcast Cat fail to dance along with the others, Macavity forces the others to dance with him. NO NOTES WHATSOEVER.

And the extra lore and worldbuilding they add to the magic element? I don’t love the Macavity Interlude, but “He hypnotizes with his eyes/His head moves like a snake” in combination with the fact that it seems like Macavity needs eye contact to control other cats? Plus how Tugger, Munk, and Deuteronomy all seem to be immune to his powers to a degree?

This element isn’t really in the boot on yt but in later performances there’s a bit at the end of the fight where Macavity, (on the top of the car) visibly tries to use his powers on the gathered cats, and when he fails he looks down at his hands and then scrambles to grab the jumper cables. The idea that he has some kind of ‘magic meter’ that he is capable of using up somehow? Potentially explaining why he went the subtle route and tries to impersonate Deut rather than go in guns blazing for Demeter?

THE WAY DEMETER REACHES FOR HIM WHEN HE FIRST GRABS HER? The way she looks like she’s flailing and trying to get away from him the second time, after the fight? Tantomile jumping between Demeter and Mac the second he lets go of her?

AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE MISTO/MAC PARALLELS I’VE BEEN WORKING ON A GIFSET FOR THAT

It’s so good. Those changes make me go insane. Because they’re deliberate, and pointed, and they add things to the story, build upon the story, and add more depth to the story. They’re also just cool and fun to look at and play around with. That’s the thing that gets me about the Bway Revival, because they were capable of making insightful and meaningful changes that genuinely elevated the source material in really cool ways.

#cats fan on main #and this all especially holds true in a piece of media like cats that relies so heavily on visual storytelling #from which like half of its audience walks away going 'wait was that just 2 hours of nonsense?'#if you dont want your audience to think theyre watching a bunch of fun nonsense (which fun nonsense is fine but the bway revival clearly--#--wanted to be taken seriously) then those visual storytelling elements have to be tight asf #jelliclerants

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imlivinginyourtrashcan · 5 months

Text

Hi hello im a dirty American heres some friendsgiving headcannons for the sp character

Cartman:

That man aint bringing shit

Only there for the food

The type of mf to steal ingrediants while youre cooking something

Dives RIGHT for the pumpkin pie

Nobody is happy

He denies it but its do obvious hes stealing shit 🤬

Does not wait for a toast

Bro just dives in

Getting seconds, thirds, fourths

When hes done theres no left overs

If he were to bring something id be pie

His moms recipe

BUT THIS LITTLE FUCK EATS IT IN THE CAR

Kyle:

Sometimes hosts the friendsgiving at his house

Brings the sparkling grape juice/apple juice

And also the Kosher things

Only has one helping, tries to get leftovers for the family or for kenny

Helps his mom cook when hes hosting

Setting the table always

Tries to toast but ends up yelling at Cartman for eating before hes done

Helps Ike pack for those little kindergarten thanksgivings?

Yknow when you dressed as a pilgrim and ate food?

Was I the only one who did that??

Stan:

He panicks and brings what he can find

"Hey dude! What you bring?"

"Uhhh... leftover mash potatos?"

Hes TRYING

Downing the sparkling juices like no tomorrow

The eggnog too

Cartman encourages it

"CHUG CHUG CHUG"

Watching the football game

RESTRAINS himself when it comes to food

Like, he wants it but knows Kyles gonna be pissed

Plays catch with everyone else

Or pingpong

Doesnt give a fuck about the Macys parade

Kenny:

Brings canned stuff he got from the food drive

Like cranberry sauce

Sneaking leftovers for his family

Plays catch with the boys

Died from a football lodged in his eye

Oh and from the

"Macys parade"

Incident

You dont want to know

Butters:

Brings the sweet potatos

Suggest christmas music/movies be played

Cartman called him gay immediately

So that got shut down

Brings the extra pies and everything since Cartman eats his

Lover of cranberry sauce and other things most people hate on thanksgiving

"Oh that was good! Could I have more please?"

"Butters what the fuck who likes CRANBERRY SAUCE???"

"I do!"

Doer of the toast

Often gets hit in the face when they play catch and cries

Can't stay for long cuz his parents are strict but hes there on video call rest of the time

Craig:

The type of mf when you ask what he brought he says

"My presence"

MF-

No!!!

You need to bring FOOD

They have to kick him out

He comes back with bread rolls or crackers, cheese and olives

So hes aloud back in

Doesnt care abt the parades or catch or anything

Just kinda there for Tweek

If someone asks him to do sonething he'll do it though

Hes limited by meals thanks to his braces

He doesnt care

Thats future craigs problem

Flips someone off if they beat him in a sport

Or flips off the tv when someone does something stupid in football

Has restraint when it comes to food

Bro will just wait

Wait

And then devour his plate in seconds

Tweek:

Brings homemade cider or pumpkin spice

Panicked the whole time

Hiding upstairs half the time

At least until food

He looks like a sopping wet cat

Doesnt really eat that much

Convinced the food is poison

Dont try to reassure him either he doesnt trust you

Has to check a million times though

"Is this poison???"

"No???"

"GAHH!! I dont believe you!!"

Leaves after feasting

He can only handle so much

Arrives super late too which is ironic

Jimmy:

Brings the food over and makes a puns

Like puts devil horns on eggs

"Jimmy what is that?"

"D-d-d-deviled Eggs"

Bro is telling thanksgiving jokes every second

Does the toast some years

Its like a stand up comedy routine tho

He lets you eat during that

Sneaking food

Mischievous little bastard

Puts on family fued when he realizes the boys are too pissed at football

Also has brace limits

But does he follow them ever? Nope

Drinks sparkling juice from a wine glass

Able to keep the party going for a WHILE he has ENERGY

Card playing KING

Winning at Crazy 8s left and RRRRIGHTTTTTT

Clyde:

Brought mac and cheese

Either that or bread

Food sneaker

Thinks hes good at sports

Hes not

He gets hit in the face so often

And cries

Tried Tweeks coffee

Started coughing and gagging immediately

Hes a picky eater im calling it now

Like will not eat if he doesnt think he'll like it

Me too Clyde i get it

Likes the Macys parade

Fucking weirdass

Arrives a bit before Tweek but is still late

The mf to get seconds

Wont eat before the event either

Saving his stomach for yum yums

Tolkien:

Also hosts

Helps his parents with food

Makes the dinner table look like a whole buffet

When hes not hosting he brings stuffing or some expensive good food

Or like

Homemade dip?

Casserole?

Idk

Seems like itd change every year

Great at sports

Helps clean up too

Toasts sometimes

Very generic toast

Doesnt seem like someone who has much to say

#south park #southpark butters #southpark #sp butters #sp tweek #sp craig #sp headcannons #tolkien black #tolkien #south park tweek #craig x tweek #tweek tweak #craig tucker #kyle brovlofski #eric cartman #stan marsh #thanksgiving

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strangleetomz · 1 year

Text

THIS IS WHAT THE GIANT PIECE OF WOOD THAT I HAULED OVER BY MYSELF IS FOR

#ransstrangeblog videos #ran shut up nobody cares #now we’re at a gas station eating mac and cheese bites

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maybeimamuppet · 9 months

Note

47 w cadina

13 w macaronie

hello darling nonnie thank you very much for the ask :)

47, out of spite- cadina

“Regina, please,” Cady begs, ‘running’ as fast as she can after her friend in her ridiculously high heels. Inconvenient, but they do make her legs look fantastic.

“No! You know what people say about you?!” Regina bellows. Cady doesn’t hear anything else. All she can hear is the wind blowing harshly in her ears, ruffling her hair around. Regina looks amazing. Blonde waves flying around her head like a halo. She reaches up absentmindedly and brushes some away so it doesn’t get caught in her lip gloss. She’s beautiful.

“Regina, please,” Cady begs. She feels herself sob before she can stop it, before she even knows she’s crying. “I’m sorry. Get out of the road, at least, please, let’s talk about this-”

Something somewhere inside Regina seems to soften at seeing Cady in tears. She’s still glaring at Cady, but she stalks the other way, over to her. Cady sniffles.

They both jump as a bus goes roaring by, right where Regina just was. There’s no way it could’ve slowed down in time. Regina stares hollowly at the road. Cady does the same.

“Regina, really, I’m so sorry, I never meant for all this to happen-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Regina growls. “You did. You knew perfectly well what you were doing. You did all that to me knowing exactly what would happen. Don’t lie.”

Cady bites her lip and tries to stop the tears streaming down her face. Regina isn’t wrong. She knew what was going to happen. Part of her knew how all this was going to end. “I’m still sorry.”

“God, do you ever shut up?” Regina huffs.

Cady doesn’t say anything else.

“I don’t fucking care if you’re sorry. You are a million times worse than I could ever be,” Regina growls, stalking closer.

“I am not! Janis almost killed herself because of you!”

“And what’s she gonna do now? You think she’s okay? You turned on her just as much as you did me,” Regina says lowly.

“You’re such a bitch,” Cady says. Regina laughs cruelly.

“Yeah. But at least I know I am. You act like you’re still all innocent and don’t know what you’re doing. Like you didn’t know perfectly well.”

Cady wants to respond. She can feel the retort trapped inside her mouth, the venom in it stinging her tongue and lips.

Before she knows what she’s doing, she’s surging forward and kissing Regina. Regina freezes. Doesn’t move.

Cady does. She grips Regina’s too-perfect face between her hands and kisses her hard, biting at her lips and tangling her hands in her perfectly soft blonde locks.

“There, I shut up, are you happy?” she bites before she turns on her heel and walks away. Regina stops her before she can get too far, grabbing her wrist and sinking her talons into it.

“Maybe. But you’re not getting away that easily.”

13, discreetly- macaronnie

Neither Veronica Sawyer nor Heather McNamara are any stranger to the honeymoon phase and all that comes with it.

They’ve both had plenty of experience with the shiny-eyed, sappy, touch-filled time that comes with any new relationship.

Neither of them have ever had to hide it.

They quickly learn it’s a lot harder than they expect.

How hard could it be, they said when they agreed to give each other a try. We don’t have to touch or hug or cuddle or kiss all the time. We can handle at least a day at school.

They cannot.

After the first week it’s clear that they’re both going through some emotional turmoil being able to see their girlfriend in such close, but not able to touch.

So they amend the rules a little bit. As long as they’re sure nobody is looking, little touches and cuddles and whatnot here and there is okay.

Which leads them to today. Mac and Veronica are sitting on the same side of the Heathers’ lunch table. Mac leans into Veronica’s side while she picks all the veggies off her cafeteria pizza, and Veronica doesn’t move her away.

Veronica takes a little cat nap on her shoulder once she’s wolfed down her turkey sandwich and carrot sticks. Mac continues chatting with Chandler and Duke like nothing is amiss.

Someone drops a tray on the other side of the cafeteria. After everything with JD, Chandler and Duke both jump and whirl around to see what’s happened. Veronica and Mac take advantage of them both looking away to steal some quick kisses.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Duke says when she turns back around to see them sitting a suspicious distance apart and both blushing violently.

“What?” Mac asks innocently.

“You two cannot still think you’re being subtle,” Chandler huffs.

“What do you mean?” Veronica asks.

“Don’t play cute,” Duke says with a roll of her eyes. “Everyone knows, give up the act.”

“What act?” Mac asks.

Chandler makes a series of obscene gestures with her hands and very sexual noises, and Duke smushes two pieces of her broccoli together with some smoochy sounds. Veronica gags and covers her eyes with her hand, and Mac hides under the table with a flustered squeak. Veronica desperately says, “Okay, we get it!”

“We’re dating,” Mac mumbles sheepishly.

“Oh my god, we know!”

#ty nonnie!!#as i always i don’t proofread these so if they’re bad be nice yadda yadda #enjoy #mean girls #heathers #cadina #cadgina #cady heron #regina george #macaronnie #mcnamawyer #heather mcnamara #veronica sawyer

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evewasheretoday · 11 months

Text

AU: Villain Heathers and Vigilante Veronica! (Poly Heathers + Veronica).

☰ ———————————————————— ☰

“Goddamn it!” Chandler ran her hands through her hair, heavily frustrated by the fact some stupid vigilante managed to ruin her plans for the 4th time.

“Heather, calm down.” Duke urged, placing a hand on Chandler's shoulder.

“Shut up, Heather!” Chandler shook off Duke's hand in anger before pacing back and forth in their secret hideout.

“I can't believe this! Every time we're about to achieve something significant, that damn vigilante shows up and ruins everything!” Chandler huffed before crossing her arms.

Mac approached her, concern etched onto her face. “Maybe we should try a different approach, Heather. We can't keep going head-to-head with this vigilante. They seem to always be one step ahead of us.”

Chandler glared at Mac. “Oh, so you're suggesting we back down and let this vigilante think they can walk all over us?”

“Heather, I don't—”

“We're the Heathers! We don't back down from anyone!”

“Nobody's saying we should back down, Heather.” Duke stepped in, her voice calm and composed. “We just need to strategize and find a way to outsmart them.” Duke added before turning to look at Mac.

“Right, Heather?” Duke's gaze softened as she looked at Mac.

Mac nodded in response. “We need to think outside the box and come up with a plan that will give us the upper hand against them.”

Chandler's anger began to subside, replaced by a glimmer of curiosity as she uncrossed her arms and regarded her fellow Heathers. “Alright, then. Let's hear your ideas. How do you propose we outsmart this bitch?”

“We need to understand our them. Study their patterns, their weaknesses and find a way to exploit them.” Duke proposed, grabbing a chair nearby to sit on it.

“How exactly do we do that?” Mac questioned. “That oaf is unpredictable.” Mac added.

“Unpredictable, you say?” Chandler smirked. Mac nodded once again.

“Then we'll use that to our advantage against them.”

—

“I feel like someone's talking about me right now.” Veronica hugged herself as a shiver went down her spine.

“It's probably nothing.” Betty shrugged off as Martha gave her a concerned look. “Maybe you're just cold?” Martha spoke.

Veronica shook her head. “No way, I'm literally wearing a t-shirt underneath this sweater I'm wearing.”

“Well, then. Maybe it's just nothing like Betty said.” Martha replied, resuming back to princess bride yet again with Betty.

“Yeah, it's probably nothing.” Veronica responded before her phone rang besides Betty.

“V, one of your girlfriends is messaging you.” Betty stated before grabbing Veronica's phone and tossing it at her.

“Careful!” Veronica exclaimed, catching her phone perfectly into her hands before she opened it and checked who was messaging her.

Mackie💛: are you home right now?

Ronniekins is typing..

Ronniekins: Yeah, why?

Mackie💛 is typing...

Mackie💛: heather, heather and I are coming over.

“Shit.” Veronica cursed under her breath.

#poly!heathersxveronica #mcnamawyer #heather duke #heather mcnamara #heather chandler #chansaw #dukesaw #veronica sawyer #betty finn #martha dunnstock #heathers #heathers poly

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rosaline-black · 2 years

Text

ꜱᴏʟᴀᴄᴇ - ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʜᴀʀʀɪɴɢᴛᴏɴ

A/N: Hii!! It’s been a minute. This is my first steve fic and I went down the angsty friends to lovers route so I hope you enjoy :) also I literally just hit 600 followers!! Thank you all sm

Category: Steve harrington X hopper!reader

Summary: drinking and dancing is the only thing that’s made you feel alive since your dad died. When the alcohol is wearing off, you can only think of one place to go.

Warnings: underage drinking. Mentions of death. Panic attacks and anxiety.

The thumping of the stereos didn't sound as exhilarating anymore, the guys you were using to distract yourself from those obsessive thoughts suddenly weren't as hot, and the alcohol in your cup was starting to taste more and more like hand sanitiser every time you took a sip.

Partying was your ultimate jailbreak - that jail being your mind. Dad. Death. Dad. Explosion. It was the constant cycle that spun round and round until you were blackout drunk on your bathroom floor vomiting up your guts. Nights had started getting this way recently. The alcohol wasn't doing what it once did, the numbness just turned into loathing for every soul around you.

College parties were surprisingly easy to get into. Gross frat boys would do anything for some action after all. So now here you stood, zoning out and overthinking every movement you made. One guy clearly thought he was in with you, he'd smirk all-knowing like there was no way you wouldn't end up in his dorm. Well, he was wrong. Slamming down the red cup, you took a shallow breath and walked like a woman on a mission. A mission to leave that was.

The air was biting at your skin, regret filled you. Not bringing a coat felt good at the time, the spring sun shining in full beam. But now the sun was gone, it was just you and the moon. Where would you go now? Obviously, one address sprung to mind but you didn't want to worry him even more than you already had. However, his stupid eyes and stupidly soft hair flashed to the forefront of your brain, and before you could think it through you were in a cab.

"Steve your fucking parents better not be home..."

you whispered to nobody in particular. You knew they wouldn't be home, they hardly were on Fridays, always at some work dinner or something... to be honest, you usually tuned a lot of what Steve said when he rambled. You noticed he did that a lot around you, he'd lose his cool-guy persona. You preferred him without it anyway, just a witless dork, kinda like you beneath all of the excessive drinking. You opened the window as the thoughts got loud again.

Dad. Death. Dad. Explosion.

You screwed your eyes shut and tried to listen to the mellow sounds of Fleetwood mac that were almost like a whisper in the wind. The back of your hand was now numb like your insides. Cold air left lethal kisses along it until you flexed it to get some feeling back. It felt good. You wish it didn't.

You fell in your spot as the cab pulled over. A gruff here we are sounded from the driver. You threw him whatever you had, probably too much, but it didn't matter you just wanted solace. Was it snowing? Or was the warmth of the alcohol wearing off? Probably the latter.

Clambering your way up the steps to Steve's front door you stroked your hair behind your ears and licked your teeth with your mouth just to double-check there was no lipstick on your teeth. To be fair it didn't matter anyway, you looked a mess. Eye sockets sunken from too much crying and lack of rest, hair matted from refusing to take care of yourself and those lips you painted with lacquer were chapped and dry. Without all the coverup paint you resembled a zombie of your old self, a zombie who was now knocking on Steve Harringtons’ door at 00:35.

You waited a couple of minutes and when nobody came that disappointment turned into anger. Swearing under your breath, you stumbled down those steps until a brief clicking of a door led you to turn around. He looked disgustingly concerned, but sadly not surprised.

"Y/n..."

Steve sounded almost disappointed and you wanted to tell him to go to hell and run far far away. Yet you didn't. Steve's arms wrapped around you like a vice. Heavy breaths and the whistle of the wind were all that travelled to your ears.

Wordlessly, Steve pulled away and led you inside, his soft large hand enclosing yours. You liked Steve's home, it was big and warm. A vast juxtaposition to your cabin, stripped of all warmth now your dad was gone.

Dad. Death. Dad. Explosion.

"Hey shhh breathe for me y/n..."

You were losing control of your throat as the hyperventilating began. Steve's hands stroked up and down your arms as you glued your eyes shut, trying to block out the images of that day at the mall.

"Ignore whatever the fucks going on up there and listen to me okay... you're safe... I'm here y/n..."

Dad. Death. Steve. Breathe...

Your breathing evened out after ten minutes of taking control of the mantra of your mind. That fiery feeling in the pit of your stomach was subsiding, and finally, you felt strong enough to crack your

eyes open. His cheeks were brushed pink, he looked relieved to see that you were finding calm, completely because of him.

"I'm sorry Steve-"

"Don't... don't ever and I mean ever apologise..."

His stern voice almost made you go weak at the knees. It was sort of inappropriate in the current moment, still on a come down from a panic attack, but Steve had always been your safe place, and you had always felt love for him, in ways you'd never felt for anybody.

With a turn of your head, you looked around the living area, only now finding your bearings. A bottle of brandy was sat on the coffee table in front of you both. Now that you thought about it, Steve’s hot breath did contain the remnants of spice, a spice that smelt oddly like brandy.

“Have you been drinking?”

It seemed ridiculous that you of all people were questioning him about drinking. Your reputation of wasting your free nights getting plastered didn’t exactly go unnoticed, but still, this was unlike Steve, taking his dad’s brandy and drinking alone in the dark of his living room.

Steve huffed out a humourless laugh, his eyes refusing to meet your own as they circled in on the swirled pattern of his carpet “Yes… just a little… I mean you’re not exactly one to judge for drinking now are you?”

Huffing out a similar laugh in return, your eyebrows drew together “Yeah I guess you’re right… but I was at a party… you’re home alone Steve…”

“Maybe I had a hot date over…”

God you hoped he was joking. You didn’t want jealousy to bubble in the darkest depths of your chest every time he mentioned another hot girl he was trying to woo, but it was unavoidable, just like your affection for him, unavoidable. Steve must have sensed you getting back in your own head by the glossy sheen that covered your eyeballs because he soon spoke up again.

“Well, I didn’t just… by the way…”

Now he looked lost in thought. You both had so many words you wanted to say but nothing would come out. Fortunately, alcohol seemed to make one bolder.

“I was drinking because of you…”

Never once had you turned your head so fast. Because of you? It was worry, right? It had to of been. You not only put yourself in danger every time you got blackout drunk with strangers, but put the people that were still alive, and still there for you in a tough situation. You could imagine the guilt that riddled Steve, worrying for your safety every night, never knowing if tonight was the night you pushed it farther, tried something stronger.

“I’m sorry… you don’t need to worry about me, Steve… I know I’m an irresponsible shit but… everyone copes differently…”

Dirty blonde hair flew in the air as the boy beside you crooned his neck to look into your eyes. He shook his head in defiance like you’d got it all wrong.

“No… no that’s not why… I mean, of course, I worry about you, more than anyone y/n I just… God, I’m such a fucking pussy…”

He was doing that annoying self-depreciation thing again, where he would look away and if you looked close enough you could see the thoughts punching at the jail cell they had been placed in.

“Just spit it out Harrington for fuck sake…”

His eyes were wide like a mad man as he let these next words fall from his lips.

“I FUCKING LOVE YOU OKAY” He breathed heavy and paused to gauge a reaction, but apparently you didn’t react quick enough because he started speaking again instead of letting the confession sit in the air “I love you… and God I just… I know that you’re hurting… if I was you damn I would be doing the exact same thing but I just… all I think about is you…”

Steve searched your eyes for any signal of repulsion, but when he didn’t find it he pressed on “At work, I hope your hangover isn’t so bad… when I drive robin to school I think about what you made yourself for breakfast that morning… at night I sit here… and I drink because I want to feel close to you… shit sorry, I’m such a fucking douche bag…”

“No… no Steve you’re not a douchebag…”

For a moment the both of you simply just stared at one another. The words Steve had said sat heavy in the air like they were surrounding you, pushing you both closer to each other.

“I’m not someone you should love though Steve… I’m a mess I mean you just saw then I-“

“Just shut up, please… I can love who I fucking wanna love…”

Since your dad died a hero, smiles didn’t come anymore. You felt guilty smiling knowing you’d never see your dad do the same. But as you sat here, opposite the guy who had been your solace, you smiled. Guilt didn’t riddle you; the world didn’t implode. You just smiled. It was toothy and the lipstick you failed to remove from your teeth was probably showing but you didn’t care. Steve fucking Harrington loved you. And God, you loved him too.

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie munson x you

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