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#my baby and his little pizza man song!!’
mrs-kelly · 1 year
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THE WAY HE SAYS PIZZA MAN IM CRYINGNXJDBDJDBDND
AHJDFKFL RIGHT?? It’s one of the cutest things he’s ever done like he says it so silly and so confidently and to make matters even funnier THERE IS NOTHING IN THAT BOX he ate the whole pizza on the way over 😂❤️
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upsidedownwithsteve · 9 months
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Simmer #3
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CH.3 Sunny Side Up | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
Talking to Eddie became a little easier after that night. Just a little. You greeted each other on morning shifts with tired nods, maybe a small ‘hi’ from you, a grunt from him that you’d learned not to take offence to. You’d watched time and time again as Jonathan brought his coffee to the kitchen, handing Eddie a mocha full of chocolate syrup and the boy received another grunt in thanks too. 
The diner became more familiar, as did your colleagues and it made your heart ache a little when you realised you melted into their routines, their little world as easily as they did with each other. Steve knew your favourite song, liked to turn it up when it came on the radio, pointing at you with enough fanfare to make you flush when he sang the lyrics into the end of a wooden spoon. 
Robin had invited you to hers, an unofficial girls night after a Sunday late shift that became a habit without meaning to. You shared her apartment space the way she shared yours, leftover pyjama shirts in each other's drawers, rented movies swapped between television sets. And at times, when she was home from college, Nancy would join you both, curled on the loveseat with Robin as they listened to your horror stories from Chicago. 
Argyle would offer you rides to work, always passing you on the days you missed the bus, pulling over his brightly painted van with a lazy grin and a yell of “jump in my ‘lil Chicago pizza.”
It was easy, comfortable, a slow kind of life that you craved in the city, the long days and quiet nights that you were more suited to. Hawkins was far from the white picket fence dream, but you loved your little apartment with its view of the cornfields, the long road out of town that you knew took you to work. And when the bus stopped on Sundays and you walked to the diner, you’d pass that old garage the same way you did on your first day in town and wave to Wayne. 
It was easy. It was simple. 
That Tuesday, you clocked in early after swapping a shift with Nancy, the heat rolling into the side door with you as the sun rose. It was the earliest you’d started and the diner was still quiet, a lack of customers between the midnight hours that the truckers frequented and the breakfast rush. The radio was up louder than usual, the smell of fresh bread coming from the ovens, a huge bowl of batter on the counter beside some chopped strawberries, glittering with sugar. 
“Hey! Hey what's the matter with you, feel right? Don't you feel right, baby?”
You could see Jonathan in the front of the diner, setting clean tables with new cutlery, Argyle trailing behind him - not necessarily helping, but definitely talking animatedly about something. Jim was in his office, groaning over receipts and copies of everyone’s vacation requests, two empty mugs of coffee in front of him. You weren’t sure where Ed—
“Jesus, watch it!”
You gasped on instinct as someone collided with your shoulder, a dull pain that wasn’t all that sore but scared you nonetheless. Eddie was glaring at you, holding a hot tray of morning rolls aloft with a dish towel. 
“I could’ve fucking burnt you,” he snapped, setting them down on his station with a clatter. 
You winced, an apology on your tongue, already tasting sour. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— I didn’t hear you say corner, or, or door or—”
You watched as Eddie’s frown disappeared momentarily, a soft drop of his expression that made you realise at the same time he did, that he didn’t give any of those warnings at all. You thought he’d apologise then, maybe back track with a rare smile but instead his scowl deepened and he set about pulling ingredients out of the fridge. 
“Stumbling ‘round like a baby deer, man,” Eddie huffed, his voice low, like you maybe weren’t meant to hear. But you did. “Gonna end up seriously hurtin’ yourself— or someone else. Not supposed to be in the damn kitchen, told you you weren’t made out f—”
Tears burned the corners of your eyes at the first sign of conflict but your heart pounded and you let yourself get wound up. You squared your shoulders, sucked in a breath and let the sting of your eyes and the lump in your throat fuel you. “Hey!” You snapped, only sounding a little watery, a little soft. “It wasn’t— it wasn’t my fault. You’re supposed to tell someone you’re coming if you’re holding something.” You blew out a breath, acutely aware of how Eddie was watching you with raised brows. “Especially something hot. And I don’t stumble.”
You glared right back at the boy, hoping you looked as intimidating as he did, throwing your hands on your hips for good measure until you felt too much like your mom and dropped them back by your side. You squirmed in the silence, pulling self-consciously at the hem of your uniform dress, still trying to keep your lips in an annoyed flat line, your brows as turned down as Eddie’s. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, throwing a pound of butter into a huge mixing bowl. It made the station shake with a thud and he turned his back to you before he spoke, shoulders stiff, a tattoo that curled up from his back to the nape of his neck just visible for the way he’d pulled his curl up in a bun. 
“Why are you always in such a bad mood? Huh? And I’m allowed in the kitchen,” you added, hating that you sounded haughty, but fuck this boy and his attitude problem. The hot and cold act was starting to wear thin. “I work here too.”
He turned then, the sleeves of his chef whites rolled up to his elbows, ropes of muscle and lines of ink curling around his forearms. His fingers were covered in butter and sugar, and when he took a few steps closer, brows raised at you in a challenge, he smelled like cinnamon. “That right, sweetheart?”
You didn’t back down, even though your stomach flipped. You lifted your chin higher, tried to give it back to him as good as he gave it out. “You think I come here for the good of my health?” You wanted to bite, you wanted to sink your teeth in and draw blood. You wanted to hurt. The taste of honey on fresh sourdough lingered on your tongue.  “I heard the food is shit.”
Eddie’s nostrils flared at your childish barb, but as immature as it was, the boy gritted his teeth and stormed back to the work station. The bowls clattered against each, steel on steel and the spatula he’d been using got launched into the empty sink. 
“Just stay out my way,” Eddie grunted. 
 The sharpness of his words made your throat tight, face scrunching unhappily because what had you ever done to him? You decided not to answer, pressing your lips together instead and hoping Eddie didn’t see your watery eyes when you stalked past his table. You ducked into the office, slamming your locker door as you shoved your bag inside, shouldering into Steve by accident on the way back out. 
“Oh, sorry— hey, hey,” Steve frowned, catching sight of your face. “What’s wrong?”
You didn’t answer, just smiling and shrugging him off, already pulling out your pad and pen from the front of your apron, as if the quiet diner was suddenly full of people who were desperate for their orders to be taken. You didn’t look at Eddie as you left, disappearing between the table and booths, hoping for something to clean until a table filled up. 
You didn’t see it, you didn’t hear it, but Steve walked to Eddie’s station with a scowl that matched the other boy’s and stole the spoon that was in his hand. 
“Hey!” Eddie’s head shot up, eyes narrowed, ready for a fight. “Give me th—”
“Stop being a dick,” Steve scolded, holding the spoon over his head when Eddie tried to grab it across the bench. “You’re being an ass, man. And for what?”
Eddie glared, reaching for the stolen utensil and swearing when Steve rapped the back of his knuckles with it. “What’re you even talkin’ about?”
Steve scoffed, “don’t act dumb, Munson, it isn’t cute. What have you got against the new girl?”
Eddie didn’t answer, giving up and crossing the kitchen to rake through a drawer for another spoon instead. He stalked to the refrigerator too, still scowling, piling more ingredients in his arms as he went. He walked back to Steve with eggs and fruit, jars of spices that were all different colours. Steve was still standing, shirt sleeves rolled up, his name badge on upside down. 
“Well?”
“Steve, just—” Eddie let out a huff and set a pan on the stovetop, flicking on the switches until a blue flame appeared. It bloomed into red, orange and Eddie spooned some butter into the pan. “I don’t have anything against her.” His cheeks were hot, he could feel it. A pink flush that went across his nose and attacked the tips of his ears. He cracked an egg too vigorously, shell in the yolk, making it burst. He swore. 
“No?” Steve didn’t look convinced. He handed Eddie back his spoon. “Doing your damn best to convince her otherwise. Poor kid looked like she was about to cry.”
Eddie’s eyes shuttered closed at that, guilt gnawing a hole in his chest. He cracked another egg, watched it turn white over the heat. He really wanted a cigarette. 
The bell for the diner door rang, signalling the arrival of customers, a bleary eyed bunch of business men that looked like they were from out of town. Their suits were too sharp, close shaven beards and briefcases making them look like sore thumbs against the garish decor and sticky booth seats. Both boy’s watched you approach their table, smiling sweetly and nodding shyly as you scribbled down their orders. When you turned to head to the hatch, a piece of paper ready to be slapped onto the stainless steel bar, Eddie watched as the men eyed your behind, appreciative faces and shared whispers about the way your legs looked in your dress. 
He cracked another egg, eyes narrowed, chest tighter than before. 
“Say sorry,” Steve finalised the conversation with a friendly slap to Eddie’s shoulder as he passed him. You were only a few tables away, head ducked down, eyes hidden as you approached. Steve looked serious as he said, “fix it.”
—————
By the time the clock hit eleven am, Jonathan was coaxing you into going for your break, handing your orders to Steve as he cleared the table your customers just left. He waved away your protests, voice quiet and soft as he handed you the dollar notes that were left for you beside a ketchup stain. 
“I’ve got it,” he tsked. “Go on, go get some food or somethin’.”
So you smiled and pulled off your apron as you headed through the back, already sipping on a glass of lemon water you’d poured yourself at the bar. You could hear Steve greet a family at the front door, all charm and sweetness, and the radio in the kitchen was still playing. Breakfast was almost over but the place still smelled sweet, syrup and cinnamon, cooked pancakes and fresh bread, maple bacon that the diners always ordered an extra plate of. 
Argyle was at the sink, washing a pot and he smiled as you walked across the tiles. “Wassup Chicago town?” There were bubbles on his arms, a walkman clipped to the waistband of his chef whites and headphones around his neck. “You lookin’ for Eddie?”
You frowned without meaning to, wondering if you could get away with pinching some leftover breakfast without anyone realising. Jim didn’t mind, but Eddie was way too particular with his leftovers. 
“Uh, no,” you answered. “Should I be?”
“Think he was lookin’ for you.”
You didn’t get to ask anymore questions, or even laugh at the idea of the chef seeking you out, because Eddie was coming back out from the pantry with a new bag of sugar. His eyes flitted to you as he walked to his bench, cheeks a little pink and he sprinkled some of it over a bowl of chopped fruit before he said anything. He nodded to the stool he made you sit on the other day, the one at his station and it was only then you noticed there was a plate sitting. 
Two perfectly cooked eggs, sunny side up with a huge slice of orange that was arranged like a smile. There was a single blueberry in the middle of the plate, plucked from the bowl that Eddie placed beside it, finishing off the smiley faced breakfast. 
“You hungry?” Eddie murmured, his voice softer than it had been when you last ran into him. He kept his head bent, curls framing his brown eyes, lips twisted. “You didn’t have breakfast.” 
“Wh—?” Your lips parted, your apron still fisted in your hand and you rounded the station slowly, eyes on the boy like you were waiting for the joke to land. 
Eddie’s gaze shot from you to the stool and he tilted his chin once more. “Sit.” His demand wasn’t bossy, despite the bluntness. His voice was so much more gentle than you’d heard it before. The frown was still there, the stitch between his brows but his eyes looked softer, honeyed caramel, brown sugar, the stickiest kind of toffee. “Gonna get cold.”
So you sat, looking behind you to glance at Argyle, wondering if this was strange enough for him to take notice too. Sure enough, the boy had stopped scrubbing, his hands still in the hot water as steam rose up around his confused face. He was watching the both of you, eyes glancing between you and Eddie as he tried to work out what was happening. 
Eddie turned his back on you as you stared down at the meal he’d made you, eyes still wide and something inside of you sank at the idea of his walking away. But he spun back, a fork and knife in his hand, wrapped in a napkin. He didn’t hand them to you, but he slid them across the counter, his expression neutral - you couldn’t work him out. 
“Thank you,” you whispered and Eddie nodded. You wondered if Steve and Jonathan got their breakfast made for them when they went on break, if they came into the kitchen to a bowl of fresh fruit - mangoes and berries and brightly coloured slices of citrus. You thought it would be best not to ask. “Looks good.”
Eddie hummed and nodded, waiting until you picked up your cutlery and unfurled it from the wrapping. He made his leave then, cheeks pink, curls going a little frizzy in the heat and he ducked away, picking up a crate that he took into the freezer, the large door thumping behind him. 
The napkin fell to the table as you took out your fork, marvelling over the way the yolk burst perfectly as you dug in, golden liquid pooling across your plate. You picked up the blueberry nose before it got caught, popping it into your mouth and humming at the flavour. And when you looked down, there was a word scrawled across the napkin, faded black ink on white tissue. 
“Sorry.”
—————
Eddie made sure he waited long enough for you to be gone by the time he appeared from the walk-in, nose red with the cold, skin goose pimpled under his uniform - because fucking hell, why did he decide to hide in the freezer? He came back out warily, keeping his back against the tiled wall as he peered around the corner. You were gone from his station, your twenty minute break already over and he could see your empty plate and bowl stacked at the sink beside Argyle.  
He squared his shoulders and tried to act normal as he stomped back into his kitchen, frown set back on his face but his heart was thundering. It made him feel ill, the way his chest got right, the way his stomach flipped. His station was clear of your plates, but you’d left the napkin there, the corner of it tucked under a plastic quart container so it didn’t float away. 
There, in your much neater handwriting and the pink pen you liked to take orders with, was a reply to the boy’s scrawled apology. 
“Thank you.”
Eddie stared at the words for too long, until the rosy coloured ink went blurry and his cheeks turned the same shade. He wasn’t sure where you’d gone, but he could smell perfume he assumed was yours, lingering between the stacks of chopped strawberries, the halved mango on the counter. 
“You got a crush, my friend?” 
Eddie’s head snapped up, a scowl set back on his face instinctually. He liked Argyle, he didn’t mind him at all, but the boy was standing by the sink and was looking at him knowingly. Argyle grinned and raised his brows, waiting for Eddie to answer. 
“What? No.” Eddie slammed the napkin back down on the desk. Argyle was still grinning. “Shut up.” Eddie waited until the other boy returned to the dishes before he took the napkin and folded it up, tucking it into his pocket. 
He’d bin it later, he told himself. It wasn’t a big deal. 
—————
The day Eddie was scheduled off on the rota was a much busier day. It seemed like bad luck, the main cook’s day off coinciding with the monthly farmers market that was set up in Hawkin’s Main Street. The square was filled with stalls, fresh fruit and vegetables in crates, the smell of homemade soap, lavender and rose on the breeze. The tiny storefronts helped funnel the crowds in the direction of the diner, lines of cars driving to the restaurant for breakfast, their trunks full of fresh goods and Mrs Sinclair’s apple pie slices. 
It meant your day went too fast, the tips good and the chance of a break slim. Argyle was pushed to his limit, the freezer used more than ever as the full tables called for a quicker turnaround, the frozen burger patties being used instead of the way Eddie liked to make each one fresh. But Eddie wasn’t here and you certainly weren’t thinking about him, so he didn’t need to know. And when your shift ended at five, the dinner rush was just as crazy so you stayed on until six and helped Nancy clear a table of twelve guests, two families from out of town that had too many kids and there were lines of coloured crayon along the walls that just wouldn’t shift until you gave in and brought out a bottle of bleach. 
She was grateful enough that she split the table’s tip with you, something you tried to wave away but she insisted and stuffed the dollar bills into the front of your apron, not caring about the stains, the dryer grease, the spilled coffee there. Nancy looked just as undone as you. But it had been a good day - you missed the chance to eat, and maybe get something made for you by Eddie - but you had enough cash rolled up in your purse to start a new stack in your freezer at home and the bus back into town should be due any min—
The bus rolled past before you could get to the stop, the tires squeaking in protest as it passed you by, your feet not able to take you out of the parking lot quick enough. And it was still fine, there was still a little light in the sky, that navy-lilac kinda way that told you nightfall was coming soon, or maybe rain. Maybe both. 
So you pulled the strap of your bag across your chest and wished your uniform wasn’t as starchy and tight, ‘cause the heat still lingered even in the evening, warmth collecting in the shadows even as indigo coloured clouds rolled in above. The rain didn’t hit until ten minutes into your walk, a Misty drizzle that had you scrunching your face until it turned into a downpour. A heavy summer storm where thunder shouted at you from the distance, way out across the cornfields and making the sky flash white. You ran down the sidewalk where there weren’t many places to stop, to shelter and you suddenly wished more than ever that you still had your shitty old car that you barely needed to use when you lived in Chicago. 
But the garage was coming up, a familiar building with peeling red paint on its walls and a huge shutter that was already closed a third of the way. You hoped and prayed that Wayne was still around, wondering if it would be too cheeky to ask if you could finally take him up on the offer of that ride he once asked if you needed. Weeks of passing by and waving to him - and offering a snickerdoodle from the box you once took into work for Jonathan’s birthday - had built up a quiet sort of friendship. 
The garage was quiet and the bell sounded as you pushed open the door, the workshop floor stained with oil and paint, leftover footprints that would never clean off. Cars sat asleep, some with their hoods up, engines ripped out and dismantled on the floor, and thank god, there was still a light on in the office. A warm glow through a window, the outline of a man sorting through papers and his head lifted when he heard you bump into the side of a workbench, a tool you didn’t know the name of clattering to the floor. 
You winced and raised your hand in a greeting and an apology. “Sorry, hi— I just— it’s raining.”
Wayne laughed after he got over his surprise, beckoning you in with an oil stained hand. His tiny office smelled like gas and burnt tires but his smile was as friendly and tired as it always was. “Miss the bus?” He asked. 
You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. Out of the summer air, the garage was cooler and you were drenched, goosebumps trailing across your forearms. “Drove right by me.”
Wayne tutted, sympathetic and he pushed what looked like a stack of invoices into a tray for tomorrow. “That’ll be that Hagan boy, never should’ve been allowed the job. Doesn’t pay any darned attention to nobody.” The man patted down his pockets, searching for his keys. “Jus’ gimme a minute and I’ll drop you off, think the boy took my damn keys. Hey, son—”
Another figure appeared in the doorway, cutting off Wayne’s call. This man was tall and broad shouldered, with dark curls that weren’t tied back. They hit his shoulders, wild strands springing around brown eyes that quickly widened at the sight of you. 
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“Hey!” Wayne snapped with a frown. He whacked the boy’s shoulder with a rolled up newspaper he grabbed from his desk. “That’s no way to speak to a lady. I raised you better than that, you little delinquent.”
Eddie looked astonishingly different out of his chef whites and your surprise showed on your face. Out of his uniform, you could see more skin, more ink. Tattoos curling around his forearms and creeping up towards his biceps, black leaking across lithe muscles that you didn’t get to see at work. He was all dark, black jeans with rips in the knees, a black T-shirt that was well worn, the band logo on the front unrecognisable from wear and from the fact that your music taste was wildly different. 
Jewellery he didn’t get to wear glitter on him, silver rings on almost every finger, skulls and orjer horned things around his knuckles, a silver chain peeking out from underneath his collar. There was a hole in the hem of his shirt, heavy scuff marks on his big boots. He was still scowling at you though, a familiar sight that made him look more like the Eddie you knew. 
You glanced at Wayne, still confused as to why he was scolding the line cook from your work. You looked back to Eddie, lips trying to wrap around an explanation. He made you feel like you weren’t supposed to be here. “I— the bus. I missed the bus.” You swallowed, an awful shyness coming over you, or maybe it was nerves. “It’s raining.”
The weather was making itself known as the storm closed in, heavy, fat drops of rain pounding on the tin roof of the garage, a deafening roar that only got heavier. 
“Yeah, no shit.” Eddie called back, raising his voice to be heard over the din and his cheek got him another smack from Wayne. 
“You better hope I don’t find out you talk like that in the kitchen, boy,” Wayne pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, to which the boy merely rolled his eyes at. “I’ll ask Jim, he’ll tell me.” When Eddie didn’t reply, Wayne pulled on his jacket and set about collecting more sheets of paper. He asked Eddie for his keys and pocketed them before saying, “Ed’s, be a good ‘un and take my friend here home, yeah? I gotta finish up this mess.”
When Eddie raised his brows and dropped his jaw, you were pretty sure your expression was the same. Except you were burning, both at the embarrassment of Wayne being so sweet and the idea of having to spend time with Eddie alone. 
“Friend?” Eddie scoffed. “Since when?”
You wanted the floor to open up below you. “I can, I can just walk.” You jammed a thumb at the door, at the torrential rain that was still falling angrily outside of it. “I think the rain has stopped…”
Thunder bellowed from above. A leak in the corner of the work floor dripped onto an old tire. Wayne stared at you both, unimpressed. 
And that’s how you ended up in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. 
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pilfappreciator · 3 months
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Did another oopsie and accidentally deleted another ask (*bangs head on table*) BUT HOPEFULLY THE LOVELY ANON WHO SENT IT SEES THIS!!
DADZONE & Child! Reader: John Dory
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Includes: GN! Reader, Child! Reader, Adopted! Reader, accidental DILF John Dory, slight angst
TW: mention of spiders and body horror near the end (nothing too graphic but just in case)
🥽 This man doesn't trust himself enough not to fuck up another meaningful relationship ://
🥽 Personally, how I see it, becoming a father is probably the last thing on JD's to-do list. I mean he's definitely got the skills (being the oldest of five and having to raise his brothers means he's picked up a few things), and I like to think that it's something he longs for deep down, but considering how BADLY he fumbled with his brothers the last time they were all in the same room...
🥽 So yeah. In theory would be SO down to start a family of his own, but in practice?? He is EXTREMELY hesitant
🥽 THAT BEING SAID!! Chances are he probably found you as an egg
🥽 He was out one day, hiking out in the forest or exploring coastal coves or rock climbing, when all of a sudden he just… stumbles across an egg. Just sitting there in a patch of moss or nestled into a log
🥽 Ends up taking the egg with him back to Ronda, but not before an actual HOUR of confused staring? Distressed pacing back and forth?? Panicked rambling all the while???
🥽 (the fact that Ronda tried to eat the egg upon his return doesn't help at all)
🥽 John Dory spends the next month or so visiting nearby troll villages and asking anyone who crosses his path "Hey man did you drop this? 😬"
🥽 In the end he decides to take you in himself. Partly because he's gotten tired of all the looks other trolls keep giving him for trying to force an egg into their hands, and also because he… may have grown attached to said egg in the past few weeks. I mean by the end of day 3 he'd already given you a name so you know he's screwed ahsjkakaa
🥽 He tells himself he's taking you in because it's what any good citizen would do (He is a lair. He is 100% doing it for himself)
🥽 The day you hatch is LITERALLY one of the best days of his life? Like he's just making himself some dinner and suddenly he hears crackling coming from his hair?? And then there's babbling???
🥽 This man is going about his day with you nestled in his hair (basically the troll equivalent to carrying a baby on your hip lol). He's choppin trees, foraging for food, and driving his armadillo van all while he's got an actual egg sitting on his head. Absolutely talks to you the whole time, too. He has no idea if you can actually hear him but like.. this man spent the last 20 years all alone in the woods, okay, his ass is lonely :((
🥽 Yknow that thing parents do where they hold up headphones to a woman's womb and play Mozart or whatever to make the baby "smarter" or some shit?? Yeah that's JD. He's doing the same thing to his egg
🥽 no Mozart tho ONLY BROZONE 😤😤 HIS BABY HAS GOTTA HAVE GOOD TASTE AND NOTHING LESS
🥽 If he's really feeling himself then he'll sing the songs himself. And then proceed to give unprompted lore behind the lyrics and the songs "true meaning" (songs include Brozone classics such as Baby Boy Got My Heart In A Headlock Boy and Baby Baby Love You Like A Pizza But Hate You Like There's Pineapple On It Babe)
🥽 "holy crap YOU'RE SO SMALL—"
🥽 UGLY CRYING HOLDING YOU IN THE CROOK OF HIS ARM CARESSING YOUR SOFT LITTLE FACE WITH HIS FINGER
🥽 Will die if you reach for him with your tiny baby hands or just smile up at him
🥽 He's still gonna carry you around in his hair while he goes about his day and stuff ngl. Like for him, it's a signature of your guys' bond and you bet your ass he's gonna be milking it for as long as he can (definitely dreads the day you become too big/old for it)
🥽 Most definitely tries to teach you survival skills as soon as possible. He's teaching you how to fish, he's demonstrating how to start a fire with the bare essentials, he's letting you DRIVE RONDA—
🥽 "It's an important skill to have, champ, trust me!"
"...but I'm only five."
"Never too early for a learner's permit!"
🥽 Defnitely tries to reel in that controlling/perfectionist mindset of his, at least for your sake. The last thing he wants is a repeat of what went down with his brothers. As a result he's probably more lenient when you get into trouble or do something wrong
🥽 Fr tho like... you'll accidentally(?) cause an explosion and his ass will be standing, hands on his hips like "I'm not mad, just disappointed 🤨"
🥽 You thought you were getting spoon fed Brozone content as an egg?? Well congrats on being born cuz now you're getting served Brozone content for BREAKFAST 👏 DINNER 👏 AND 👏 LUNCH
🥽 JDs most definitely the type of guy to break into song whenever he's doing the most mundane of tasks (laundry, cooking, cleaning, etc), and yes he fully expects you to join in and know all the lyrics helloooo?? You've basically been raised on Brozone songs at this point like cmon, don't leave him hanging!
🥽 FR THO!! If you grow up to be a Brozone stan, he's never gonna be more proud of himself <33
🥽 This man definitely has a physical collection of every song/album/cover his band has ever done (I'm mean this is the same guy who kept his brothers underwear in a frame for 20 years so ://). He treats every CD, record, cassette tape, etc. like the priceless artifacts they are and YES, HES GONNA PASS THEM ONTO YOU LIKE THEYR FAMILIY HEIRLOOMS DID YOU EXPECT ANY LESS
🥽 If you grow up to lean more towards a different genre of music or Brozone just doesn't end up being your cup of tea... JDs gonna be a lil devastating ngl
🥽 Pls assure him that he has not failed as a father
🥽 Jokes aside tho! I feel like despite his wounded ego, JD will at least TRY to see your point of view. I mean he's definitely gonna be a bit of a grandpa about it—
*while the two of you are listening to your favorite song*
"I mean, I GUESS it's okay... not nearly as lyrically genius as Brozone's hit single: Baby Girl Ur Sweet Like A Milkshake Girl But I'm Lactose Intolerant Baby 🙄"
"Dad. Please shut up."
—but rest assured that he WILL support you and your music taste <33
🥽 You want merch of your favorite band/artist? No worries he's (stealing it right off the shelf) got money to pay for it! Is there a new album about to drop? He's (breaking into a store in the middle of night like a rabid racoon) patiently waiting in line just to buy it for you! You wanna go to a concert? He's using Ronda to (break speed limits, run people over, disobey every known traffic rule) get good parking at the venue!!
🥽 SPEAKING OF CONCERTS!! I feel like he'd be able to offer solid advice on the do's and don'ts of attending a concert. Like... my guy was in a popular band back in the day and he knows first hand how outta hand concerts can get. He has SEEN some shit ajskskaka
🥽 JD definitely has a photo album full of pictures from back in the day. Some of them are snapshots of him and the rest of Brozone, but a majority of the pictures are just of him and his family— away from the stage and cameras. Just him and his brothers and grandma Rosiepuff too...
🥽 He remembers the exact moment every picture was taken, and he'll tell you every bit of context. Birthday, pranks gone wrong, holidays, first day of school— there's a snapshot for just about every milestone. All you have to do is ask and JD is more than happy to relay every childhood anecdote he can remember
🥽 It gets to the point where you eventually know just about everything about your uncles... WHO YOU HAVE NEVER EVEN MET YET AKSKSKAKAK
🥽 It's definitely something that freaks them out once you finally DO meet them
🥽 Like you'll have a conversation with Clay and they'll be like "yeah I'm not a big fan of spiders haha" and you just go "Oh that makes sense considering you used to have vivid nightmares about them crawling under your skin and tickling you to death" and Clay's just like "how the fuck did you know that????"
🥽 "Dude stop telling your kid everything about us"
"I haven't seen you guys in 20 years! I just wanted them to feel close to their uncles ;(("
"THEY DONT NEED TO KNOW ABOUT HOW I USED TO PICK MY NOSE WHEN I WAS SEVEN"
🥽 John Dory, Older Brother Who Overshares About His Younger Siblings my beloved <33
Ermmm yeahhhh this was originally gonna be one big post including ALL the brothers... but then I started writing for JD and got carries away... so yeah this ask is gonna have to be a multi-parter AJSJSJAKKA SORRY ANON I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF 🤥
NEXT PARTS ARE IN THE WORKS!!
Bruce | Clay | Floyd | Branch
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blooming-violets · 18 days
Note
Nicest Thing Peter x Reader for 11. In joy? I really like that fic. I reblogged it on my old account. I feel like thats an underrated fic of yours (maybe bc it came out in 2022? Idk). Would love to see what happened to them!
It's still one my favs because it is just so...me?? Like if I had to chose anything that represented my personality perfectly, it would be Nicest Thing. Just a depressed, sad bitch who loves angst and Peter Parker and enjoys Kate Nash. I feel like I need another Kate Nash song for this "sequel" fic. I'll base it off her song Trash because these two are trash for each other.
You can read this as a separate, on its own Peter x Reader thing if you'd like or you can read it as a future piece to Nicest Thing.
Warnings: Smoking a joint and getting stoned
If porn bots can over take all the tags then I better not get flagged for these gifs.
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Peter looked at her through blazed out, squinting eyes. A haze of smoke filled their bathroom as they passed the joint back and forth between them. They were seated in the unfilled tub, fully clothed, and facing each other. She had made him take the spot next to the faucet under the claims that sitting over the drain made her feel “icky” like she might get sucked in. He didn’t mind. Even if their leaky faucet kept dripping cold water over his shoulder. 
“Do you remember the Rugrats episode when Tommy and Chuckie are afraid of getting sucked down the bathtub drain because Angelica tells them a story of some other baby who died that way?” He asked, handing her off the joint. 
She placed it between her lips and he watched with a slow blinking, admiration for her. He loved her. She had been with him through everything. He owed his entire life to her. Without her in his life, he would no longer be here. She was everything important in the world. 
She smiled, remembering, and let out the most beautiful laugh. She always got extra giggly when they smoked. It was one of his favorite sounds. 
“Don’t they fill the drain with play-doh and shit? It’s a weird reddish, pink color. Why do I remember that specific color so much?” She replied, mystified. 
Peter chuckled, “Because old school Rugrats was filled with some crazy ass imagery. It sticks in your mind.” 
“Yeah but I remember thinking that I specifically wanted to eat that color...like maybe it would taste nice…like the imaginary food from Hook.” She passed it back to him, letting the smoke exhale in a little, circular puffs from between her lips. 
“Do you want to get into a pretend food fight with me and see if anything appears?” He grinned. 
Her red rimmed eyes squinted back at him as she laughed, “With the way these munchies have been hitting me the past few minutes, I think it might actually happen. I could imagine food hard enough to make it show up.” 
His mind started to wander as a hungry smile spread across his face, imagining all the food he could eat, and he spoke with a dreamy whisper, “Pizza bagels.”
“What?”
“Let’s make pizza bagels. ‘M hungry. Starvin’. Gonna die if I don’t get some food in me.” 
Her eyes glowed with excitement at the idea, “Pizza bagels. Yes, you’re a genius!” 
“I know,” he giggled, it bubbled out of him without any self control. It wasn’t the weed that did it. It was her. He felt free when he was with her. He flicked out the joint against the ashtray balancing on the edge of the tub. “I really am. Smartest man alive, probably.” 
She snorted, “Okay, I wouldn’t go that far. Get your ego in check, Parker, before I have to slap some sense back into you.” 
He beamed at her, his love consumed him, feeling it outshine every other emotion rattling around inside of him. She was beautiful. Stunning. Picture perfect. He wanted to hang her up on his wall like an expensive piece of art so he could admire every day of his life. 
Her shoulders shrunk up to her ears under the intensity of his gaze.
“Stop that,” she whispered. “Don’t look at me with those eyes or I’ll kick you. I’ve got a perfect aim for your crotch in this position.”
Peter shook his head, “Nope, sorry, I refuse. I can’t help it. You look…perfect. The nicest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”
“You’re stoned.” 
“Yes. Doesn’t change the fact that your lips look very enticing.” He winked at her and tried to scoot forward to get a taste. 
Her socked foot landed against his chest, pushing him back in place, “I thought we were making pizza bagels, not kissing. Weren’t you just starving a minute ago?” 
“Starving for you, maybe.” 
“Peter!” She let out a loud laugh, keeping him at bay with her outstretched leg. 
He was so in love. Completely enamored. Whipped. Head over heels. Trash for her. Whatever he wanted to call it. He belonged to her so wholly. His bleeding heart was in her hand for the rest of his life. He would follow her to the ends of the earth and back again. 
“If you don’t let me kiss you right this very second, I am going to turn this shower on.” His hand reached over his shoulder to grip onto the shower knob with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 
She gave a sharp inhale, “You wouldn’t dare.” 
His eyebrows raised, taking on that challenge, “Oh really?”
She knew she fucked up the second before the shower burst to life. From his position in the tub, it shot over his head to spray directly into her face. She shrieked and fell back, sliding down the sloped edge of the tub until she was nearly on her back.
It was all the opportunity he needed to pounce. He leapt on top of her to the sound of her laughter and blocked the shower stream from her face with his back. His arms wrapped protectively around her head as he laid over her. Water pooled around them, warming their bodies, and soaking through their clothes. 
They didn’t feel it. 
All he could feel was the devoted love burning a hole in his chest where his heart used to be. 
She giggled up at him, blinking water droplets from her eyes, and whispered, “You’re an ass.”
He laughed in response and crashed his lips over hers, mumbling against them, “You love me.” 
She sighed in content. Her arms snaked around his neck to draw him closer, melting happily into his kiss. 
“I do.”
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sunflowergirl522 · 2 years
Text
Fangirl
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: In which you’re Corroded coffins biggest fan and then Dustin introduces you to Eddie
Word Count: 2293
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“Of course I can come watch Dustin Claudia. I can be over in like fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you so much sweetie! Ever since that earthquake I hate the idea of him being by himself. I’ll leave some money on the counter in case you guys need to get a pizza or anything.” You let out a relieved sigh once Dustin’s mom hangs up. You just have to call your friend Steph to cancel plans tonight before heading next door to the Henderson's. You didn’t really want to go to them anyway. She wanted to go out to a bar, which was fine. That's what you normally did with her but that was just to go see your favorite band. Under normal circumstances you hated going to bars, they were dark and dirty and you’d prefer to do something that didn’t involve older men hitting on you. But if Corroded Coffin was playing you could bet your ass you’d be there.
You’ve basically been their biggest fan since the first time you saw them perform. You had been at The Hideout with Steph getting a quick catch-up drink when they stepped onto the makeshift stage. You didn’t know there was going to be live music and admittedly that had gotten you to stay longer than you planned to, you were ready to leave as soon as your drink was gone but then you fell in love with the music. Since then you’ve gone with Steph to every show they’ve had making the plans yourself when you found out about a new one. You had even bought a shirt the one time they tried selling merch.
You hum to yourself as you make your way next door. Your mom has always been close friends with Dustins so you’ve known them your whole life. Dustin’s like a little brother to you since you’ve sort of always been around him and because of that his friends have become like siblings to you too. Even Max who only showed up two years ago but y'know saving the world together is a pretty big bonding experience.
“Dusty guess who’s here?” You sing while entering the Henderson residence.
“You know you don’t have to watch me right? I’m not a baby.” He comes into your line of sight and you pull him into a hug.
“What, you don’t wanna hang out with your coolest adult friend?”
“Please you wish you were as cool as Eddie.” He eyes your Corroded Coffin shirt as he says it expecting you to agree but you just scrunch your face up in confusion.
“Eddie? Who’s he? I only know Steve and Robin.”
“You don’t know Eddie?” He follows you into the kitchen confused. He really thought you would’ve known him from school or even just from his band or hell from when the whole town thought he killed Chrissy.
“No should I?” There’s a pause in the conversation as you open up the fridge to see what’s inside. “Wait, is he that guy your mom was telling me she’s weary of? Is he good to you Dusty, he doesn’t peer pressure you or anything right?”
“No God.” He groans. “You sound just like my mom. Eddie’s great, you wanna meet him? I could call him up and see if he’s able to stop by.”
“I’d be down for that. Gotta make sure he’s Steve’s replacement and not my own.”
“Oh my God you two are incorrigible, I'm not replacing Steve!”
“Sure you aren’t. Hey, what do you want to eat? I think I could manage making something tonight.”
“Don’t make anything! After I call Eddie we’ll order a pizza.” You weren’t any good in the kitchen, you were basically a walking disaster the moment you started trying to make anything. 
Eddie’s phone rings while he practices a new song on his guitar. He groans as he breaks away from it ready to yell at whoever was bothering him while he was finally getting somewhere.
“Hello?” He rips the phone from its spot on the wall.
“Eddie you gotta come over man.”
“Henderson? What do you want, I’m busy. This isn’t another life or death scenario is it?”
“No, you gotta come over and meet someone. I don’t know how you don’t already know each other.” Eddie lets out a sigh of relief at it not being anything serious before taking a deep breath in.
“Dustin I’m not coming over at the last minute when I’m in the middle of something just to meet someone. Arrange a meeting date or something.” He’s getting ready to hang up on him when his next words stop him.
“If she likes you my mom will probably let you back in the house. That means you can come over for dinners again.”
“I’ll be over in fifteen.” Eddie slams the phone down and throws his leather jacket on before flying out the door to his trailer at the thought of getting to eat Mrs. Hendersons meals again. He pulls up as the fire alarm starts blaring from inside the house. “Jesus christ.” He rushes out of his van and up the walkway just in time for the door to get thrown open.
“Fuck, shit, shit! Move!” You come flying out of the house tossing the pan with a small fire in it into the yard. You pay no attention to the man you just yelled at, too preoccupied with your own mistake besides it was probably just the pizza guy anyway.
“This is why I told you not to make anything!”
“Dustin just shut up and get me a shoe or something to put out the flame!” You catch the shoe he throws at you before falling to your knees and pounding at the grass. “See Dusty, it's fine now. We’ll just leave the pan out here to cool off and grab it before your mom gets home. She never needs to know this happened.” You stand up straightening out your clothes and wiping the sweat from your forehead before heading back to the door.
“What did I just walk into here?”
“That’s just what happens when Y/n tries to cook. Eddie meet Y/n, I’ve known her my whole life and she’s basically my sister. Y/n meet my cool new adult friend Eddie, who I’m not replacing Steve with.” You look up at the man in question and freeze, dropping the shoe in your hand. You immediately recognize him as Corroded Coffins lead guitarist and singer.
“I, um, hi I’m Eddie. No sorry you’re Eddie, I’m Y/n.” He chuckles at your mess up and takes you in while you feel your face heat up. Your hair is thrown up and you’re standing barefoot before him in a short pink skirt and one of his band's shirts?
“Is that a Corroded Coffin shirt?”
“Oh, uh, yeah I’m sort of a really big fan. I saw a show sometime in February and I’ve been to almost every show since. This thing is basically my prized possession since you guys never sold anything after the show I got this at.” You hold the bottom of said shirt holding it out to inspect it.
“Yeah, that’s because only two people bought something. We figured it wasn’t worth it to make more stuff. You know, I think I’ve seen you at a few shows actually.” 
“Really?” Your eyes go wide as your head whips up to look at him. 
“Yeah, you’re the one who always claps after songs.” Eddie’s playing it cool. Of course he’s noticed you in the audience full of mainly drunks. It was hard not to after the first time his attention was drawn to you when you whooped for them after a set. You were basically a constant after that and before every show he would scan the bar for you. He’d joke with the rest of the band that you were his good luck charm because he always played better when you were there once they caught onto what he did. 
“Yeah, that’s me. I hollered once but my friend who I always go with told me she’d stop taking me if I kept it up. You guys are like super amazing though! Your cover of Master of Puppets is, I think, my favorite version.” Eddie’s cheeks tinge pink at the praise. 
“You two gonna come inside or stand out here till the pizza comes?” Dustin asks coming back to the doorway to find the two of you just smiling at eachother. 
“Coming Dusty! I gotta clean the kitchen up anyway.”
“Yeah Dusty, we’re coming.” Eddie extends his arm for you to go first and slightly bows while smirking at Dustin with the knowledge of this new nickname.
“I’m regretting introducing the two of you already.” He groans out, backing out of the way. 
“You were right, he’s much cooler than Steve.” You murmur to Dustin as you pass him and Eddie overhears it. Butterflies swarm in his stomach at that. He’s cooler than Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington? No one other than his friends had ever thought he was even a little bit cool and now here you are an angel who not only loves his band but also thinks he’s cooler than Steve. It’s almost too good to be real. 
Once he overcomes the initial shock the goofiest grin grows on his face and he follows the two of you into the kitchen where Dustins putting stuff away and you’re wiping down counters.
“So how do you know Dustin?”
“Eddie’s the DM in my DnD club.” Dustin answers just as Eddie opens his mouth to speak.
“Oh, Hellfire right? I remember hearing about it when I was in high school.”
“I can’t believe the two of you didn’t meet then. I mean Eddie was supposed to graduate a year after you Y/n/n.”
“Oh? How come you didn’t?”
“Never went to class.” Eddie shrugs while crossing his arms over his chest. “Spent too much time getting high and planning stuff for campaigns.”
“Well I’m glad you were still there to watch over my whittle Dusty poo.” You use a baby voice as you pinch Dustin's cheeks.
“Y/n.” He draws your name out while shoving you away. “I’m not a kid anymore, you can’t do that.” Regardless of how annoying and embarrassing he finds it when you do that he can’t help but smile at the affection and Eddie catches it before Dustin can mask it. The doorbell rings then and Dustin quickly excuses himself stating it’s probably the pizza.
“Thank you.” You say to Eddie in a low voice once he’s out of the room.
“For what Sweetheart?” Your heart speeds up at the nickname.
“For taking Dustin and the others under your wing this year. They didn’t have the easiest time in middle school with bullies and whatnot, and I was really nervous for them to start high school. But then Dustin told me all about this cool senior who invited them to Hellfire club and how you all look after each other and I was really excited for them to branch out and make new friends.”
“Oh that was no big deal, they’re great kids.” You smile at him before turning to get the plates once the front door closes. But of course Claudia still keeps them on the top shelf so you have to stand slightly on your tiptoes to reach them.
“Let me help.” Eddie comes up behind you reaching up and easily grabbing three plates, his other hand resting on your hip.
“Thanks.” You look down hoping to hide the heat rushing up your neck.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“Eddie was just helping with the plates.” You jump away from the man who’s still so close to you, taking the plates from his hand and holding them up to show Dustin before rushing into the dining room.
“So are you graduating this year?” You ask Eddie later while the three of you eat.
“On track for it.”
“That’s cool, there’s what, just two months left?”
“About that long and then it’s goodbye Hawkins High and all the judgemental assholes in it!”
“What are you doing after?”
“I dunno, focus on the band probably.” He watches as your eyes light up at the mention of his band. You had honestly forgotten who exactly was sitting across from you.
“Speaking of your band, have you ever thought about doing shows not at bars or at least at ones that allow underage kids in? Because I know Dustin and the crew would probably go and I’m sure there would be other kids interested. Or you could put posters up in college areas because I only ever see them around Hawkins and everyone here already has their opinions about Corroded Coffin it feels like. I know people in my school would definitely be interested in seeing you guys perform.” Eddie's hands slam down onto the table causing you and Dustin to jump in your seats. He points at you and leans over the table.
“You might just be a genius! I have to tell the guys about this!” He gets up and rushes to the door leaving you and Dustin to look at each other in confusion before he’s leaning around the corner. “Hey uh by the way we have another gig tomorrow night if you wanna come. I could pick you up beforehand and take you home after.”
“I’d like that. I live just next door.” You nod and a shy smile crosses your face.
“Cool then it’s a date. Bye!” He waves and rushes out before you can notice how pink his cheeks are becoming and leaving you to smile into your hand while Dustin fake gags.
“You guys are gross.”
Eddie Taglist: @starbxcks​​​ @phluffybunny​​ @sadbitchfangirl​​ @notbeforelong​​ @kenzi-woycehoski​ @celestialsxturn​ @daisyellsong​ 
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beansprean · 2 years
Text
What about MY batshit s5 predictions??
Derek tries to turn Guillermo and we think it doesn’t work but at the end of the series it’s revealed he hasn’t been aging
Guillermo is successfully turned for exactly one episode but his cousin bites him and he turns back
Guillermo accidentally turns Derek human again - cue a rotating door of vamps wanting to be human for a day to try pizza pie and go to the beach before having a friend turn them again. Guillermo charges $3000 per bite and buys his mom a penthouse
^ "I'm uhhh...selling my blood" "How you getting $70k a month for your blood, man?" "It's good blood, Miguel!"
^His family fully thinks he is a sex worker at this point
Nandor pretends to read the first 10 pages of every book in the house before finally getting up and realizing Guillermo isn't there
Nadja and Laszlo stage a divorce and then get remarried specifically because they came up with a new wedding song they want to use
Nandor wants his post-breakup hot girl summer and tries to go blond
^He discovers twitter and posts every thought he has or questions he thinks he's googling. His only follower is that goth kid from Minnesota
That goth kid from Minnesota, freshly 18, shows up to be Nandor's new familiar and continues to hover spookily around and have no lines
^The comedy is that they sneak up on everyone and freak the vampires out by being arguably more vampirey than anyone
Will-they-wont-they Colin and the Guide (guidinson?)
Guillermo turns Charmaine bc he accidentally pushed a tree over (doesn't know his own strength) and crushed her
In fact, Guillermo turns ANYONE who asks. He turns Jeremy. He turns Lilith. He turns a bus driver who compliments his cape. Accidentally amasses a giant loyal coven who worship him.
We time skip 100 years in ep1 and Colin is a baby again
^(possibly this is how long it takes Nandor to finish a book?)
^Laszlo selfishly destroys/walls off the memory room in the hopes of keeping his boy this time around
^New baby Colin is obsessed with one thing and one thing only: werewolves
Memo's Man Milk explodes bc Guillermo is now contributing his own and it's 10x more potent due to all his repression
Alternative: Memo's Man Milk crumbles bc Guillermo is now contributing his own and it actively ages the witches due to all his repression
Laszlo and Sean kiss a little
^this is kosher bc Charmaine is a vampire now and being a vampire turns you poly as well ofc
^Charmaine and Nadja kiss a little
Jenna randomly pops up in one episode and it's revealed she's actually been there the entire time but no one noticed her.
^Jenna and the Guide kiss a little
Baby vamp Guillermo gets stuck in bat form and has to slay some vamps at the same time (visualizing an stunt actor holding a fake bat to their face and screaming and running around like it's hurting them)
Nadja's next grand adventure: becoming a twitch streamer
^ baby Colin had infodumped to her about it before but she wasn't listening
^ she only plays Nancy Drew mysteries and goes off about her sexual escapades with Marie Antoinette during Treasure in the Royal Tower
^she becomes very popular as an extremely dedicated vampire larper
^she is banned from twitch after someone asks her to flash her tits for 50 subs and she's like *shrugs* ok
Nandor gets really into Young Sheldon and we all have to deal with that
Colin decides to watch the documentary recordings from his missing year and we get some deleted scenes
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nattinatalia · 8 months
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Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, yourbestiename, claybornharlow, and 7,556,345 others
yourusername Miss Mia Harlow made me add in some purple in my hair and I’m not mad about it. Her and her daddy’s favorite color 💜
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jackharlow 😍😍😍
jackharlow godayumn my wife is sexy as hell 🤤
yourusername ☺️
jackharlow let me put another baby inside you
yourusername Absolutely not, we can practice though 😉
druski you two are probably sitting next to each other commenting on here when you can literally say it face to face 🙄 we don’t need to witness y’all being annoying.
jackharlow She’s working dumbass.
druski Damn your hot piece of wife is working and you’re not with her? Okay, proceed on flirting on here.
yourusername 😭😭😭
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Liked by mamamaggie, yourusername, urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, and 8,567,345 others
jackharlow All little man wanted to do was buy his momma some flowers.
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yourusername 🥺 My sweet boy.
yourusername He learns from the best, thank you for raising him how to be a loving and caring little man. I love you 💜
mamamaggie That’s my grandson 😍
urbanwyatt When EZ starts buying flowers for his crushes, he’ll forget all about y/n
yourusername URBAAANNNNN NOW WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT 😢
jackharlow Don’t worry baby, he’ll forever be mommas boy.
yourusername He better 🤞🏼
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claybornharlow Mia is over for the weekend and she demanded we bake pizzas 🍕 whatever my niece wants, she gets.
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jackharlow 😂😂😂 She has you wrapped around her finger.
claybornharlow Calm down, you’re just the same.
jackharlow No lies were told, I’m a yes man when it comes to my wife and children.
druski damn no shame at all
jackharlow Happy family, happy life. Simple as that.
cozane Why does her pizza look different from the one you were eating? 😭
claybornharlow Because she wanted a challenge, who’s pizza comes out better. The difference is, I didn’t call for help, she did 🙄
yourusername She didn’t call for help, she called to check in 🤭
claybornharlow Yeah and during the checking in you kept telling her what to do. So not fair.
jackharlow 🤣🤣🤣🤣 Mia knows how to play us all.
mamamaggie She really does, she’s your daughter after all.
jackharlow HEEY WHAT DOES THAT MEAN???
yourusername LMAOO
mamamaggie That you my son, are as slick and sassy as they come, and your daughter is exactly like you.
jackharlow & I take pride on that 🥰🥰
Liked by urbanwyatt, yourusername, jackharlow, neelamthadhani, claybornharlow, champagnepapi, and 7,986,345 others
djdrama It was only a matter of time and that time is now!!!!!!!!! Jack is always a beast when it comes to his craft, working with Y/N made me realize how much they both balance each other out. This joint album is out of this world, never before seen and I can’t wait till you all listen to the finished product, for now, here’s a snippet of two songs…
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jackharlow LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO
yourusername I’m shyyyyy but excited 😜
claybornharlow Can we spoil something?
djdrama MORE?????? Sure why not???
jackharlow 👀
claybornharlow I may or may not have produced two tracks in this album.
yourusername These Harlow men are out of this planet 💪🏼 😎
urbanwyatt 🔥 🔥 🔥
yourbestiename Oh man, I’m hyped!!!!!! I know you two are gonna kill it.
cozane 💣 💣 💣
champagnepapi THE HARLOWS ARE TAKING OVER THE WORLD!!!!!!
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jackharlow Nothing could ever top this ❤️
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yourusername 🥺❤️ we love you
urbanwyatt I can vouch for that, nothing beats your family.
cozane not Mia leaving the crust of the bread on the side 😭😭😭
jackharlow She got that from you 🙄
yourusername “uncle avatar says it’s nasty so I don’t like it.” 🤦🏻‍♀️ thanks for that Copey
cozane Anytime 🤣🤣🤣
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Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, cozane, yourbestiename, selenosunni, and 9,246,984 others
yourusername When you see me, know my man is always besides me, and when you see him, know that’s mine 🫀🤞🏼
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jackharlow For life 🤞🏼💜
yourusername & Beyond that 🥰
druski Mark your territory, let them girls know.
yourusername You play too damn much 😭
urbanwyatt My parents
yourbestiename I love this team 💪🏼 get it mama
djdrama 🔥 🔥 🔥
champagnepapi Ok so drop the album already
jackharlow 🔜 💿
TAG LIST
@heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @arination99 @cmalass @jackharloww @minkookie95 @deannaard @jacksmoviestar @harlowcomehome @fdl305 @httpkoylinnn @xoxokiaraaxoxo @hoodharlow @automaticpeachsong @amethyst09 @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @stefansalvatoresgf @violetdreamsworld @carma-fanficaddict @jasminxts @itsaaliyah2 @itsyagirljaz @harrycanyonmoonn @neon-lights-and-glitter @awhore4moree @toocriticalharlow @thefemalestorywriter @lightsoutstyles @violetslays818 @fantasywritersstuff
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bopbopstyles · 1 year
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I JUST WANT A LOVER
RATING: R/smut (graphic sex, alcohol use, cigarettes)
WORD COUNT: 6.8k (i'm getting back in the swing of things, okay!!!! sorry this isn't my normal 20k lmao) (also like 75% smut) (i make no apologies)
CATEGORIES: one night stand!harry
PT. 2 | MASTERLIST | TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK
a/n: i know it's been about twelve billion years, but thank you for bearing with me. i had the urge to write some smutty smut, so i did — not sure how consistent i'll be, but i'm back, baby!!!!!
“You know, it’s not nice to stare.”
You glanced up and realized he was looking at you, having fully caught you investigating him. “Had to see what my shot partner was like.” 
“And what do you think?”
“Hmm…” You let your sentence hang while you figured out what to say, your tipsy brain scrambling for something flirty but not too weird. “Decent, but concerned you won’t be able to take it without a chaser.”
He chuckled, leaning his hip against the bar so the two of you were even closer. “What happens if I can’t?”
His arm brushed against your side, and you tried to not pay attention to it too much. It was taking every fiber of your body not to freak out and overthink this, because this was the first man since your ex to flirt with you in a bar—or even come up to you in a bar— and he was hotter than your ex by a landslide. Which was both flattering and also frightening. “I won’t let you follow me to the dance floor,” you answer him, plucking what little courage you had and employing it, praying it didn’t fall flat. 
But he smiled. “And if I can?”
The shots arrived, and he picked up them both, handing yours to you, your fingertips brushing. “Then I’ll let you dance as close as you want.”
or
Y/N is newly single and Harry's really into her
You’d come out at the request of your best friend, but to be honest it didn’t take much to get you out there these days. The breakup with your ex had occurred a month and a half ago and since then you decided you were done being sad, and wanted to have fun. Fun that you hadn’t had in months. Fun with your best friends in the smallest amount of clothing you could get away with, and lips lined in a deep mauve that always made you feel like the baddest bitch in the room. 
It was working too. You could feel your confidence and happiness creeping back piece by piece, every time you were dancing in a bar, screaming lyrics to your favorite songs and sweat slipping down your back, you felt one step closer to the person you remembered being. A person you had loved being too—full of life, the person people called when they wanted to have a fun night, the host of many a party, the best dance partner, and the perfect person for a heart to heart over pizza at the end of the night. 
“I missed this!” Your friend Abbey said when you’d walked into her apartment with a bottle of gin earlier that night. She swept you into a giant hug and you couldn’t help but smile. “Like, I know I’ve seen you recently, but I missed going out with you—missed being happy with you.”
“I missed it too,” you’d replied, and meant it. 
Now you were in your favorite bar in the Lower East Side, waiting impatiently at the bar amidst the many other patrons, tapping your phone on the counter to keep your mind busy. The combination of old Britney Spears songs pounding through the stereo and the rush of alcohol in your bloodstream made you full of joy, and a little more wild than usual. 
“Gin and tonic and a fireball shot,” you requested, and he nodded before turning around.
“Fireball, huh?” The voice was deep and smooth, and you couldn’t help but turn around to discover who the owner was. He was tall, at least six foot, with dark brown hair and light green eyes, tattoos littering his arms. There was a ghost of stubble on his jaw, which only made it looked more chiseled. 
He was so fucking hot it seemed unnatural. “Yeah,” you replied. “Feel like being a little crazy tonight.”
His lips curled up at the corners at that, and he took a step toward you. “Sounds like fun.” He raised his finger, grabbing the bartender’s attention, and requested a shot as well.
You took his distraction as an opportunity to study his side profile. His hair curled slightly around his ear, and his nose curved up ever so slightly at the end. There was a dash of freckles on his cheeks that you could barely make out in the low lighting. As your eyes traveled down to his clothing, you decided that he was ripped—his arm muscles bulged ever so slightly in a delicious way. He was so attractive it felt illegal to even be looking at him, much less talking to him. And having a drink with him, apparently. 
“You know, it’s not nice to stare.”
You glanced up and realized he was looking at you, having fully caught you investigating him. “Had to see what my shot partner was like.” 
“And what do you think?”
“Hmm…” You let your sentence hang while you figured out what to say, your tipsy brain scrambling for something flirty but not too weird. “Decent, but concerned you won’t be able to take it without a chaser.”
He chuckled, leaning his hip against the bar so the two of you were even closer. “What happens if I can’t?”
His arm brushed against your side, and you tried to not pay attention to it too much. It was taking every fiber of your body not to freak out and overthink this, because this was the first man since your ex to flirt with you in a bar—or even come up to you in a bar— and he was hotter than your ex by a landslide. Which was both flattering and also frightening. “I won’t let you follow me to the dance floor,” you answer him, plucking what little courage you had and employing it, praying it didn’t fall flat. 
But he smiled. “And if I can?”
The shots arrived, and he picked up them both, handing your to you, your fingertips brushing. “Then I’ll let you dance as close as you want.”
“Deal,” he replied. The two of you bumped glasses, tapped them on the bar, and threw them back, the alcohol burning your throat. You watched as he, much to your excitement, didn’t struggle with the shot in the slightest. He just set the glass back on the bar and found your eyes. “Looks like we’re dancing, sweetheart.”
The term of endearment lit up your spine, and you tried to not smile too widely. The bartender came over and asked if it was on a tab or closed, and the man told him to put it on his tab without a beat—and that’s when you got his last name. Styles. Sexy, frankly. 
He turned back to you and nodded toward the back of the bar. “Lead the way.”
The Motto by Drake was blasting through the speakers and this was the tenth song you two had been dancing to. Your gin and tonic was nearly empty, and your right hand was thrown around Harry’s neck—that was his name. Harry. It was said in your ear with his lips far too close to your skin for you to not fantasize about how they would feel on the rest of your body, the melt of his accent curling around you like a fire. His hands were on your hips, fingers curved around you so he could move with you with ease, and the two of your alternated between staring into each other’s eyes with such intensity it made you have to resist the desire to kiss him every time, and the bar around you. 
Your back was sweaty from the heat of the dance floor, but the backless shirt you were wearing meant the material wasn’t sticking to your skin. Harry had informed you about a minute ago that the shirt was “one of the hottest things he’d ever seen” and that had made you smile coyly, or at least you’d hoped it was coy. You were enjoying the way his skin felt on yours, the press of his fingers, the warmth of his breath on your cheek. 
It had been a while since you’d done this—let yourself flirt with a stranger, bask in the excitement of someone’s desire—and it felt so damn good. You dropped your head back, letting your hair fall backward, singing the lyrics you knew by heart. As you did it, you felt the tightening of Harry’s fingers on your waist, and you smiled to yourself. In return, you wrapped your fingers in the bit of hair at the nape of his neck, scratching ever so slightly. This made Harry’s grip tighten again, and you liked knowing that you were affecting him as much as he was affecting you. 
You let your head fall forward, gaze meeting his. It was burning into you, his eyes gliding from your face down your body to the rise of your breasts. The pressure of it, of his interest and desire, felt good, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel a deep need to kiss him. The prospect of touching your lips to his, which looked so plush and inviting, a dark pink that looked far too kissable. The need burned at your chest, and you decided there was no reason not to give in. Tonight, you decided, you were saying yes to things that made you a bit nervous, and seeing what happened. So, you pressed your torso flat against his and leaned your head back, tugging at his with your fingers so your mouths met in harmony. 
It was like all he waiting for was permission, because the minute your lips touched he moved, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you even closer, the other moving upward, his hand cupping your throat gently. His lips were soft and plush, just like you’d hoped. You loved how they moved against yours with obvious desire, begging and pleading with you through the kiss. When he brushed his finger along the column of your neck, you let your tongue dart out, brushing against his lips, which he parted for you, and you swept into his mouth, finding his tongue. 
The kiss was messy and needy and exhilarating. From the press of his lips and the way they parted and pulled at yours, to his arm that was locked around your waist, fingers pressing int your skin, or the hand that was splayed at your neck, his fingers curled int your hair and the base of his palm on your throat.
It was, in all honesty, how you’d been wanting to be kissed for months. With desire, to feel needed and craved by another. It set your body on fire, and made you throw any apprehension you had to the wind. 
“Air,” you mumbled, pulling your mouth away. “I need air. And a cigarette.” 
He just smiled, nodding gently, and then threaded his fingers in yours, tugging you through the crowd. You hadn’t necessarily invited him to follow you outside, but you hoped he would get the hint—and he did, thankfully. There was a door in the back of the bar, a security guard standing next to it. Harry nodded at him, pointing at the door, and the guard pushed it open. It led to an alley, which had some other people down the way, but this section was empty. Perfectly, beautifully empty. 
It was quiet outside, the thrum of the bass from the music inside seeping out, and the honk of taxi cabs melding into the perfect sound of New York at nighttime. You leaned against the rough brick of the building, the bare skin of your back cooling against the brick, which felt glorious. 
“Cigarette?” You asked, reaching into your purse to pull out your pack and lighter. 
“Sure,” he answered. “But I only need half of one.”
“Share one with me then.” 
He smiled, and nodded. You placed the cigarette between your lips and lifted the lighter, flicking it so the flame appeared, lighting the end. You took a deep inhale, holding the cigarette in your teeth lightly as you exhaled out the sides of your mouth around it, placing the lighter back in your purse. Then, you took the cigarette from your mouth and offered it to Harry. 
There was something so erotic about watching him smoke the same cigarette that had just been in your mouth. You couldn’t help but stare at his mouth curved around it, the smoke leaking from his mouth as he exhaled. You wondered if he thought the same when he watched you smoke. 
“So,” you said as you held the cigarette between your fingers after taking a puff. “What’s your story, Harry?”
He stepped forward and pressed his hand to the brick at the side of your head, before leaning in and wrapping his lips around the edge of the cigarette that you still held between your fingers and taking another inhale. “I work in a record store and record some music on the side. Live a couple blocks from here with my friend Michael. Moved here a couple years ago.” He nodded to you. “And you?”
“Live in the village, work in marketing like everyone else,” that made him chuckle. “And have been here for three years.” 
“Like it?” He asked, and you nodded. 
“I do. I don’t think it’s forever, but I doubt that’s surprising. But I can’t imagine living anywhere else right now.”
He took another inhale of the cigarette before agreeing. “I know what you mean.”
“Are you here with friends?”
He nodded. “My roommate and some other people.”
“Will they miss you?” 
That earned you a smile, and a shake of his head. “Why, what do you have in mind?”
The cigarette, shot, and gin and tonic are fueling your confidence because you pressed towards him and whispered in his ear, “your bed, preferably.”
He looked at you for a beat and then pressed his lips to yours, his free hand that isn’t touching the brick wrapping around your waist and tugging you toward him. It was a fight for dominance, this kiss—heated in a way the other one hadn’t been. It was full of desire and need and curiosity, that curiosity of finding someone new and leaning what they like and how they like it. You couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan when he tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth, and that sound made Harry press himself into you, his erection obvious against the material of your skirt. It made you wrap your hand holding the cigarette around his neck, making sure to not singe his beautiful curls, and curl your other hand in the waistband of his jeans.
Your finger brushed against a sliver of skin above his boxers and below the hem of his shirt, and you heard the sharp inhale of air he took in as you did it, pressing firmly against you and deepening the kiss. You wanted him in a way that you’d forgotten how to feel, and it lit up your whole body, making you absolutely uninterested in pretending you weren’t incredibly into him. You tugged his lip between your teeth and sucked gently, before licking across it. He responded by tucking his chin and brushing a series of kisses down your neck, pulling and nipping at the skin in a way that had you digging your fingers into his skin. 
“Can we go,” you said, more a statement than a question in the way the words tumbled from your mouth. You couldn’t do this much longer or you’d end up begging him to fuck you in the bathroom of this bar. 
“Fuck yes,” he answered, placing a searing kiss on your lips. “Need to say goodbye to my friends and close out the tab. Meet me at the bar?”
You nodded, and the two of you headed inside to say your goodbyes. You found your friends, explaining the situation in excited tones, and kissed them all goodbye on the cheek, promising to text the address you ended up at. And then you went in search of Harry, easily finding his mop of curls poking out amongst the people at the bar. You headed right for him, and when he caught sight of you he reached out for you, tucking you into his side, his arm around your waist.
“Let’s go,” he mumbled into your hair after he signed his name on the receipt, and you followed him out of the bar and into the night. 
He kicked his bedroom door shut and walked to you in two paces, tugging you to him. Your lips met messily, all the pent-up tension from the evening and the walk here coming to a head. You decided to not mess around—you wanted to feel his skin desperately. The buttons of his shirt, a soft silk that was sweaty in the best way, came unbuttoned with ease, and you pushed the shirt off his shoulders, exposing his skin. It was tan and scattered with so many tattoos that you wanted to explore, but didn’t feel like you had enough time. 
“I love your tattoos,” you said, your voice cutting through the sexual tension and silence in the room. Your fingers brushed across the swallows on his chest, and you saw his muscles tighten at the touch. 
He didn’t acknowledge your statement. Instead, he was too busy staring at you. “Y/N,” he said, breathlessly, “can I take this off?” His fingers were playing with the hem of your shirt, and you nodded with ease. The material was pulled over your head in mere seconds, leaving you in just your skirt and boots. His fingers were on your skin immediately, cupping your breasts, lips brushing along the slope of your shoulder as he pulled on your nipples.
Your head fell back, a quiet “fuck” leaving your lips as his fingers moved across your skin, leaving a searing fire in their wake. He took advantage of the space, sucking on the skin at the base of your neck, nipping and pulling and you threaded your fingers in his hair and tugged gently. “Bed,” you exhaled, and he nodded, walking you backward until you fell onto the mattress. 
He leaned back and unzipped your boots for you, dropping them to the floor and then removing his own shoes. You pulled on the clasp of his belt, freeing it from his jeans, and then popped the button, pulling down the zipper. The thought crossed your mind that he was the first man you’d undressed since your ex, but you didn’t let the thought linger for too long. Instead, you busied your mind by pushing down his jeans and tugging him on top of you, finding solace in his lips. 
The kiss he gave you was deep and full of need, and you drank it in, loving each second that it held you. His fingers tugged on the zipper of your skirt and you wriggled to let him free you from it, leaving you both in just your underwear. You moved up the bed, pulling him with you, and tugged him down on top of you. 
Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him in, your centers meeting and both of you let out a moan. Hooking up with someone new was always an interesting experience, that edge of apprehension and unsuredness, but this was feeling more and more comfortable by the second for you. Maybe it was the way his fingers felt on your skin, the way he didn’t stop touching some inch of you. Or the kisses he placed on your lips and then your skin, or the way his breathing hitched when you rolled your hips. 
He was hard against you and you loved how it felt, how the friction felt against you. His tip was nudging at your clit through your underwear and you could feel how wet you were getting, and you wondered if he could tell too. You hadn’t done any of this in a little while, but you wanted him. Craved him in a way you hadn’t lately, and you wanted more. Wanted to feel the weight of him on your tongue and the press of him against you, that glorious feeling of being held by someone and the crash of an orgasm that exhausted your bones in a way nothing else did. How it made the world slip away for a second. 
“Can you roll over?” You asked, nosing gently at his jaw. 
“Yeah, ‘course,” he answered, flopping onto his back. You were on him in seconds, straddling his waist and swiveling your hips in a slow, tantalizing circle that had his hands reaching the curve of your waist. The pressure made you grind into him deeper and the moan that fell from his lips was intoxicating. You didn’t know how much more of him you could take, the pressure just building and building and building inside of you every time he kissed another inch of your skin. 
Harry was fucking obsessed with you. This random girl he’d found at the bar who he couldn’t stop staring at. The curtain of your hair that fell around him as you bent forward and scattered kisses down his torso, making him inhale sharply, the feeling surprising in all the right ways. His fingers were pressed into your waist and he let them drop to your thighs, enjoying the softness of your skin and how he could grip them and pull ever so slightly to make your hips move over his cock, the friction feeling heavenly.
He needed you in every way, and he was simply wondering what you would be willing to give him because at this rate he would take any scrap or morsel of you. 
And that’s when you suddenly shuffled backward and hovered over his thighs, lips ghosting downward to the top of his underwear. Fuck, you were going to go down on him. Would he survive? He wasn’t sure. 
He lifted his hips and let you tug down his underwear, the sweetness of the kiss you placed on his hip bone catching him off guard. Harry lifted up onto his elbows so he could watch you as your fingers brushed along the length of him. 
“You’re pretty,” you said, words dancing across his skin like another one of his tattoos. 
“Yeah?” He answered, fingers winding through your hair. “Think I’m pretty, angel?”
You giggled—fucking giggled—and it set him on fire. “Very,” you informed him. Then, you ran your tongue up the length of him and swirled your tongue around his tip, the sight making Harry drop his head back and moan again. It felt so good, the warmth of your mouth and the caress of your tongue, the way you were delicate yet intense. 
“More,” he mumbled, “please, Y/N.”
You didn’t hesitate before spitting on the length of him and rubbing your hand up and down, creating a ruthless pace that had him panting, circling your tongue over his tip repeatedly, making every inch of his cock light on fire. Then, you dropped your hand to his balls and gently rolled them as you took him in your mouth, and that’s when Harry looked back at you, not wanting to miss this moment. 
Your eyes were on him, watching his response to your actions as you sunk lower and lower on his cock. When his tip bumped the back of your throat he groaned, and it took every inch of his willpower not to buck his hips at the sensation. And then you pulled back a bit, and then back down, creating a rhythm, your lips wrapped around him, tongue gently licking stripes up the underside of him as you worked. 
It was heaven, your mouth. He hadn’t been with someone in a while, and you were unexpected but oh so perfect. He couldn’t stop looking at you, at the sight of his cock disappearing into your mouth over and over again, the sight of your eyes watering ever so slightly when you took him particularly deep, the bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. You were fucking drooling over him. It was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. 
When you pulled back and swirled your tongue over his tip and then sucked, he couldn’t hold back—he bucked his hips ever so slightly into your mouth. “Fuck, sorry,” he mumbled. But you just nodded, widening your lips and stilling where you hovered. 
His eyes about rolled back in his head. 
“You want me to fuck your mouth, angel?” You nodded, and Harry didn’t waste another second. 
He curled his fingers through your hair and pressed his hips up, using your mouth and you let him. You even moaned at one point when his tip brushed the back of your throat. It was like you loved this, loved the feeling of him using your mouth, and that made him even more intrigued by you. When you started sucking on his tip when he pulled back, he decided he couldn’t take this anymore—he was going to come if he didn’t stop. 
“Gotta stop,” he said, pulling your head off him. “Gonna come if I don’t.”
You looked up at him and smiled, before wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. “Liked how you felt,” you mumbled, crawling up his body toward him. He grasped your hips in his hands, and looked up at you, catching your eyes and smiling. 
“Liked it too,” he said. “Come ‘ere.” You lowered your mouth and kissed him, lips intertwining perfectly. Then you started grinding back and forth on his cock, and Harry realized how wet you were through your underwear—fucking dripping, in fact. “Roll over for me,” he requested, and you did as he said with ease. 
He hovered over you and fingered the waistband of your underwear. “Please,” you mumbled, and he smiled, before pulling the material off with ease. You were, in fact, glistening with arousal and Harry loved the sight. He pressed a kiss to your knee and began to bend down because he wanted desperately to go down on you, but you started shaking your head back and forth. “No,” you said, “Want you to fuck me. Please.” 
The please got Harry. “Yeah?” You nodded, and Harry moved closer to you, letting your legs fall to either side of him. “Wanted to go down on you, but I guess that’ll have to wait.”
Your hands swept up his sides, brushing along the tattoos that rested there. Harry pulled away just enough to reach his bedside table, grabbing a condom. Quickly, he ripped open the package and rolled it on himself, pumping gently, eyes glancing over your body spread out in front of him. Your breasts, perfectly large in all the ways he loved, the curve of your waist and the skin he was deeply enjoying holding onto, your gentle but wildly talented hands, the soft waves of your hair that smelled far too delicious to not bury his face in. It was like you were out of a dream. 
“Harry,” you said, hand reaching for his thigh and tugging gently. “Please.”
The begging really did it for Harry—he hated to admit it, but he fucking loved it when girls begged for him. Made him feel so wanted, so desired, so needed, which is exactly what he craved from sex. “Coming, I promise, love.” He rose up on his knees and nudged your thighs a little farther apart with his own, creating space for himself. Leaning over you, he caught your eyes as he nudged your entrance gently. He knew he was big, and he didn’t want to assume it wouldn’t hurt, so he was going to watch your expression to see how it felt. 
And what he saw made him keen. The way your eyelids drooped ever so slightly, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. Then, he felt your hips brush down a bit, slipping more of his cock inside of you, and a gentle moan slip from your lips. “More,” you requested, hand winding around his bicep and gripping him.
Harry didn’t make you wait a second longer, he pushed forward, watching your eyes to make sure it didn’t hurt, and it never did. You just shut your eyes and your mouth dropped open, no sound coming out. You felt like heaven—wet and warm and snug, and Harry remembered why he absolutely fucking loved sex. 
He pulled out slowly, and when you tugged slightly on his arm, as if to say Hurry up, he answered with a swift thrust in, groaning at the way your walls gripped him. You answered with a moan of your own, the words, “Feels so fucking good,” falling from your lips. 
That spurred him forward, and he built up a rhythm that was brutal in pace. You liked it hard, that was obvious, and Harry happened to love it too. He had missed sex and this pace was dizzying in all the right ways. The feeling of your thighs wrapped around his waist, keeping his hips close, and the sight of your breasts bouncing as he fucked you was too much for his brain to process. He couldn’t figure out what to watch. The sight of his cock entering you (which he really liked looking at) or your breasts, or your stomach which he for some reason had the desire to bite gently, the skin stretched there tantalizing. Your face was a dream too—the way you looked at him with desire and need and pleasure so obvious, the moans that left your mouth without a filter, not caring in the slightest who heard. 
Harry grabbed your thighs, tugging them up so your hips lifted off the bed and thrust in, hitting a deeper spot that made his head spin—and yours. 
You were losing your fucking mind at this sex. He was fucking you like, truly, no man had fucked you before. Full of power and need and dominance in all the ways you loved. The feeling of his eyes on your skin had your body on fire, and that mixed with the way his cock was stretching you out just had your brain melting away. You couldn’t decide on what to pay attention to, but currently his tattoos and the ripple of his biceps was enticing you. The black ink made you curious, and you wondered if you asked if he would tell you their stories. 
His hands slipped to hold your hips, pulling you in toward him, fucking you onto him and it made your eyes roll back, a heavy groan ripping from your throat. Missionary, you decided, was underrated. Harry knew how to fuck someone in missionary good, and you wanted it again and again and again. With your ex, you always craved the variety of positions as something to keep you engaged, but right now you had no desire to change your position. All you wanted was more intensity, more pressure, just more. 
“More,” you begged, squeezing his arm.
Harry responded with a smile, and then he lowered your hips before rotating them to the left, your right leg draping over your left. He shifted behind you ever so slightly, nudging his cock back inside of you, and you gasped at the depth of the position. You could feel him in your fucking stomach it felt like, and it made you scrabble for his skin, gripping the forearm connected to the hand that was holding your hip as he fucked you. “Good?” He asked, hair falling into his eyes as he bent forward slightly, using the leverage to fuck you harder, driving into you at a brutal but delicious pace. 
“So…fuck…good,” you answered, words a struggle in this position. You were so wet and your abdomen was tightening, a clear sign that your orgasm was rising inside of you. That wasn’t something that surprised you, though—you’d always been someone who came with ease, especially in intense sex. So you let it build, let your walls tighten and spasm around Harry. 
It had Harry’s grip tightening. The feeling of your walls fluttering around him was a clear sign your orgasm was building, and Harry couldn’t wait to feel it. He wanted to watch you come, to know that he was the reason why. He still had plenty of stamina left—he’d always had plenty of energy when it came to sex—so he decided after you came if you still wanted to have sex, he would happily keep going. 
“Fuckkk,” you let out, head dropping back and eyes shutting, hair spread all over his duvet. It was a gorgeous sight, and Harry drove into you faster, the sight of your tongue slipping out onto your lip spurring him on. Then he felt it, the way your walls clamped down tightly and the grip you had on his wrist tighten significantly. You were dripping all over him, and it felt so fucking good that he knew he needed to pause for a second, so he pulled out, turning you back onto your back gently. 
Your eyes opened and found his with a smile. “Good?” He asked, and you nodded. “Want more?” 
“Hell yes,” you answered, and he chuckled. 
Then he dropped down, ducking his mouth to your waiting pussy, the sight of your wetness smeared all over your skin and the smell of your come filling his sense. He licked over your exposed skin, picking it all up with his tongue, and you moaned, obviously sensitive. But instead of stopping him, your hands found his hair and pulled him in closer, making his nose nudge against your clit. You were so. fucking. hot. 
He went to town on you, licking inside and then over your clit, which he discovered you particularly liked. He worked his tongue in circles that had your head thrashing, mouth dropped open in a moan, hands a death grip on his hair. Thankfully, he’d always had a thing for that. When he pushed a finger inside of you at your request, that made your eyes roll back, and he fucked you with his fingers, first one and then two. He found your g-spot with relative ease, brushing against it and taking joy in the way your thighs tightened around his head. 
Going down on you was so fun; like a new mystery he was taking deep joy in discovering all the secrets of. 
You didn’t let that go on for too long, though, pulling on his hair with desperation after he’d been fucking you with his fingers particularly fast. “I’m going to come if you don’t stop, and I’d really like you inside of me again,” you said, and that made him stop immediately. He was not going to miss that opportunity.
He dropped your thighs from where he’d been holding them and moved back to his old spot between your thighs. He spit into his hand and ran it up and down his cock, getting ready to be back inside of you. To his joy, he got to watch your fingers slip down to your clit, brushing in a circle that made your hips buck up towards him. 
“Ready?” He asked, and when you nodded, he pushed back into you. Somehow, you were even tighter—likely from being close and having adjusted to his fingers. It felt glorious, and he wasted no time finding a brutal rhythm. He tugged at your legs, pulling them up, so your calves draped over his shoulder, which made you scramble for skin. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Harry,” you moaned as he thrust into you, hands reaching for his collarbone. 
He was close too, the sight of you on the edge and this feeling dizzying him. “I’m close,” he mumbled, and he watched you force your eyes open.
“I think—fuck—I think I might squirt. Is that, shit, is that okay?” The way you stumbled over your words made him smile, and so did what you said. It was a treat, something he’d never expected, but holy hell did he want. 
“Fuck yes it is,” he answered, bending forward slightly so your thighs strained. “What do you need?”
“Fingers,” you replied. “On my clit. And a towel below me if you don’t mind your duvet getting wet.”
The prospect of leaving your pussy sounded downright unfathomable, so Harry decided he didn’t give a single shit about the state of his bed. He had plenty of blankets. Who cared about a duvet. “It’s fine,” he told you. Then, he reached between your legs and brushed his fingers over your clit, which made your pussy tighten immediately and your hips buck.
It was like you couldn’t control yourself, the way your hips moved. Harry had to stay incredibly close, so he didn’t slip out, but he didn’t mind. He loved how you felt around him, all consuming and deliciously wet. He wanted to see you squirt more than anything, so he was staving off his orgasm until after you finished, but the effort was torture. The distraction of rubbing your clit was helping, but he didn’t know how much longer he could last. 
“Gonna come for me, love?” He mumbled, words tumbling from his fucked out brain. “Wanna see you squirt all over me.”
That, it seemed like, did the trick. Your walls tightened immediately, and Harry felt the rush of your orgasm immediately, coating his lower body in wet. The sight of it, mixed with the load moans spilling from your mouth and the sight of your hand gripping your breast, pulling taut on the skin did it for him. It put him over the edge, and he stuttered, his pace faltering as he came into the condom, gripping your thighs as he rode his finish, the feeling of your squirt making his finish even more intense than usual. 
Panting, he gently pulled out of you, letting your thighs fall to the side. “Holy shit,” he said, chest heaving. 
You laughed gently, hand dropping to the bed. “Holy shit is right.”
He looked down at your pussy, where a large area around it was wet from you squirting. Harry had only had one girl squirt on him before, and it had been a while ago, so he’d forgotten what it felt like. And how much he fucking loved it. “That was insane.” He looked up at you. “You doing okay?”
You nodded. “Just a little sticky.”
He laughed. “Want to take a shower?” 
“Please,” you answered. He reached his hand out for you, and you took it, letting him help you up. When you got to sitting, he pressed a gentle kiss to your nose. The gesture made your heart warm, especially after how vulnerable you’d been with him. You hadn’t done that with every guy you’d been with, and you weren’t fully sure why you trusted him with it, but you were happy you did. Your mind was floaty, drained from most thoughts, and your body felt light in all the right ways. 
He led you to the shower, turning on the hot water for you and pointing to where the fresh towels and soap were. “Going to change the sheets,” he said, giving you a kiss on the lips before leaving you to it. 
You stood under the shower, letting the warm water fall on your skin. It brought you back into your body. You used the soap and washed up, cleaning all the aftermath of sex from your skin. Then, you stepped out, grabbing a fresh towel, and sat on the toilet to pee, before heading back to his room.
The bed was freshly made, the wet duvet gone from sight. Harry was still naked, tucking a blanket onto the bed when you walked in. “Feel better?”
“Perfect,” you answered. “Thanks for letting me do that.”
“Of course,” he said. “I’m going to take one myself—help yourself to anything you need.”
He patted down the hall, leaving you alone in his room. It was fun to be left alone in a boy’s room, allowing you to snoop just a bit. You explored the framed photos on his dresser and bedside table, finding out he had a sister, and found some photos of him and some friends, boys you thought might be his roommates. His cologne sat on the dresser, and you made a mental note of the brand and scent name, deciding that you’d make the next boyfriend you had wear it because you loved the way Harry smelled. 
A book you’d never read before sat on the bedside table and you picked it up, curious. You were reading the inside flap when Harry re-entered the room, causing you to look up. “It’s good,” he said. “The book.”
“Good to know.”
“So.” He pushed the door shut and gestured to the bed. “You’re welcome to stay the night—it’s pretty late. But if you want to head home that’s totally fine too, happy to call you an Uber. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
He was sweet, you decided. That much was clear, from the way his green eyes gleamed with honesty. Sometimes guys would say all that just as a way to pressure you to leave, but this time you truly felt like he didn’t mind either way. “I’ll stay if you’re okay with it.”
Harry smiled at you, and you knew you’d made the right decision. You weren’t quite ready for the night to end, and you didn’t really feel like putting on your clothes and sitting in a stranger’s car right now. “Of course—need something to sleep in?”
“I, uh, usually sleep naked,” you said. 
That made Harry split a wide grin. “Knew I liked you for a reason.”
You returned his smile, and as the two of you got into his bed, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. If this was just a random hookup or maybe turn into a multiple time thing. Because honestly, you wouldn’t mind if it happened again. You were even curious what this boy was like during the daytime, if you were completed truthful with yourself. And as you laid on his pillows and he asked you questions about your life, seeming to be genuinely interested, you couldn’t help wonder if maybe he felt the same way. 
fill my inbox with your favorite moments, lines, things you’re having ~feels~ about, or other concepts you’re dreaming up for me!!! missed you all <;3
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scoops-aboy86 · 2 months
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We see a lot of chubby Steve/weight gain post-high school but I think it would be interesting to see some fics where he’s still in school. Maybe he has to give up sports due to the concussions or something?
You're right and you should say it!! I have a bit of that in my love spell no go AU, before Starcourt happens and Steve goes full trauma-fueled must be able to protect everyone I know mode. 
So... might not be what you were hoping for but I wrote an almost 3k addition to that fic, during the part where Steve is still at Hawkins High. Swim is over for the year (and Steve avoids his pool now), and while he's still on the basketball team he's also smoking weed (helps with the nightmares, getting enough sleep, better mood, etc.) and snacking more. He's in the starter belly stage but has no complaints.
Part 1, (YOU ARE HERE), part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11 of the love spell no go au
The weed he bought from Munson is a godsend, and Steve wonders why he hadn’t thought of it before… only to remember that Nancy wouldn’t have approved. (Although she’s not a priss, exactly, she had barely even touched alcohol since the night Barb died. Until Halloween.) But he can sleep through the lonely nights now, which is worth even that hurtful pang of realization—that maybe, Nancy hadn’t been very good for him. 
(Sure, she had helped him study. And his grades had improved. But sometimes, too, she would smile and say, “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.” It had been cute at first, before Barb, when the smile had still been real.)
Whenever he thinks about that, or feels particularly lonely, he digs into his stash for a quick smoke out his bedroom window—never by the pool, not anymore. He gets into the habit of snacking after, even if it’s while doing his homework, because even when he’s a little bit stoned it’s somehow easier to focus on shit when he’s doing something else at the same time, and chewing works. 
(Nancy hadn’t liked it when he’d fiddled with his pencil or a rubber band or a Rubix cube or anything while she’d quizzed him with flashcards, even though he’d tried to tell her it helped. She’d fussed at him about it until he’d just… stopped.)
Other times, he zones out in front of the tv while working his way through a sandwich or a bag of chips or a sleeve of Oreos. Or takeout, a lot of the time, because his culinary skills pretty much stop at sandwiches, up to and including scrambling an egg for a breakfast sandwich. But a man cannot live on scrambled eggs alone, he’s learned that the hard way, so pizza or burgers or pasta in cardboard containers it is. 
It’s not just the munchies. After a while Steve gets into the habit of just… eating. It's not like his parents are around to notice, and Dustin and the other kids he babysits sometimes (for all that Mike protests that they aren’t babies and don’t need a sitter; what they do consistently need, however, is rides) don't care as long as he springs for enough that they can have some too. No one at school would dare say it to his face, and somehow it still doesn't manage to fully tank his slightly flagging reputation, but Steve is definitely starting to put on weight. He doesn’t care. 
He starts going to parties again half for a change of scenery, half for a change of food options. Pizza still makes a frequent appearance, but there’s popcorn and flavors of chips that he doesn’t usually buy and various kinds of snack mixes. (His favorites are anything that include M&Ms.) Sometimes, there are even cupcakes or cookies. He doesn’t dance, doesn’t even drink all that much and sticks to just beer when he does, never the punch. Most of the kids who come to these parties are there for the booze and the makeout opportunities, but he turns up to people-watch, bopping his head in time with the music if it's a song he likes, and park himself by whatever food the party has to offer. Sometimes Steve buys from Eddie if he's there, offers to share joints with him that Eddie, still wary, turns down. When the food runs out, Steve leaves.
Tonight, though, Tammy Thompson just will not leave him alone and he’s at a loss for what to do about it. She’s been talking his ear off about wanting to move to Nashville and become a country singer the entire time he’s been working on this extra large pepperoni and sausage with black olives—not his first choice, but it’s still hot enough for the cheese to stretch whenever he picks up the next slice, warm tomato sauce and grease dripping down the front of his polo more often than he can always catch with a napkin. 
“Did you want some?” he asks at some point, to be polite and hopefully indicate that he doesn’t care that she’s trying to tell him something. 
He can tell immediately that it doesn’t work, because Tammy lights up from simply being addressed, even though her answer is, “Oh, no thank you, I’m a vegetarian.”
“Right,” Steve mumbles, and crams nearly half of his next slice of meat-laden pizza in his mouth. Maybe if he talks with his mouth full. “More for me, then.”
The words come out muffled, but she still beams and offers to grab him something to drink, jumping up and scampering off before Steve even has a chance to respond. He sighs, downs the rest of the beer he’s been nursing, and takes the new one she brings him without saying thank you. Between the next pieces of pizza he pops it open, chugs it, and belches; she puts a hand on his arm. 
For a moment, at that, Steve feels a faint stirring of interest. He likes his food, did even before dropping swimming and picking up weed, and well before it started to show. Now that it has, he feels comfortable in his softer body. Good. And maybe… maybe he could handle dating someone who doesn’t mind how much he likes it. He imagines Tammy running her immaculately painted nails over his skin, places he’s noticed have been getting more sensitive lately, and suppresses a shiver. 
“Could you pass me that bowl of M&Ms over there?” he asks, testing the waters. Yeah, he could probably reach it if he stretched, but he’s starting to fill up and doesn’t feel like putting the extra pressure on his stomach. He sits back a little in his chair instead, shifting to get comfortable and laying a hand on his belly where it bows out over the waistband of his jeans. “Sorry, just, you know. Big appetite lately.”
“Oh, that’s okay, I don’t mind,” Tammy says with a giggle as she fetches the bowl for him. “Besides, you’re an athlete! I’m sure you’ll work it off in no time on the court.”
And yeah, no, that vague interest curdles immediately. As far as Steve is concerned, the only parts of himself he wants to get rid of are all in his head—the heartbroken parts, the nightmare and trauma parts, the desperately lonely and needy parts. But he’s not so lonely that he’ll hook up with a girl who’s willing in spite of how he looks, because what else could she possibly be interested in? His personality?
He barely even has one. King Steve has always been bullshit, Nancy was right about that much. 
Through the crowd, he spots curly hair and a flash of dark leather—Eddie. Good, he’d been hoping to buy more tonight, and this is as good an excuse to exit this conversation as any. 
Steve grabs a handful of M&Ms to shove in his mouth and flips the lid of the pizza box closed, handing the bowl back to Tammy and taking the box with him when he stands. “Well, enjoy the rest of the party,” he blurts. “I’ve gotta go see a guy about some drugs. Bye!”
As he makes his escape, some girl that he thinks he might have class with or something just about shoulder-checks him, but he’s solid enough that she ends up stumbling from the impact instead. The glare she gives him could peel paint… which is actually kind of refreshing, after enduring Tammy’s simpering for the better part of an hour. 
To Eddie’s perpetual frustration, now that Steve Harrington has started buying weed from him he can never seem to be free of the guy. Case in point: the “Hey, Munson, wait up!” that follows him to the backyard of tonight’s house party slash business venture. 
He waits until he’s down the patio steps before whipping around, prepared to glare and snap an impatient what do you want, Harrington, but ends up staring at a pizza box that’s being shoved in his face. 
“Pizza?” Steve says. 
Eddie blinks at the box, then at the boy holding it. “This isn’t your party. Doesn’t that mean it’s not your pizza to offer?”
“It might as well be, I’ve eaten most of it,” Steve replies. “No one seemed to notice, that makes it fair game.” 
Once, Eddie had been selling at a party and been bitched out for touching a single cookie, because those were for guests. He wants to scowl, but then his gaze flicks down to the partly open box and sees that there aren’t many slices left, eyes fixing on the evidence dripped down the front of Steve’s shirt and the way it’s… tight, across his middle. “You ate all but three slices of an entire extra large?”
He’s not sure what answer he expects to get. Maybe something like Of course not, dickhead, or maybe just, What, like it’s hard? But all Steve says is, “Yep.” And keeps looking at him with those sweet hazel eyes that seem bight and not too clouded by alcohol. 
Still, Eddie is wary. “Okay… You first.” 
Steve just shrugs and pulls out a slice, taking a bite before Eddie snatches it out of his hand. “Hey!”
“Just making sure it wasn’t poisoned first, sweetheart,” Eddie retorts, sneering for the excuse to call a pretty boy sweetheart in semi-public, butterflies stirring in his stomach at getting away with it. “Don’t worry, the rest is all yours.”
“Who’s tried to poison you?” Steve asks in a perplexed tone, folding the last two slices together to make a pizza sandwich and tossing the empty box onto the deck. Still following Eddie, because of course this is Eddie’s life. Love spell was a spectacular failure, but he’s still got the boy of his dreams following him around like a lost duckling because he’s got drugs. Fucking fantastic. 
And Eddie doesn’t want to get into the whole thing—those rumors from when Eddie had been in seventh grade and Steve had been in sixth, for all that they’re both in the same grade now, about some kid who’d been sent to the ER from a bad reaction to itching powder. There were variations where it had gotten in his eyes and nearly blinded him, or on his food and made his throat swell shut, or in his underwear and turned his dick so red his balls fell off. In reality, he had only gone to the nurse with a bad rash and hadn’t even been allowed to go home, but it left a goddamn impression. 
He doesn’t want to get into it, not if Steve either doesn’t remember the rumors or hasn’t connected them to his present day self, so he just rolls his eyes and says, “Are you looking to buy or what?”
Steve immediately brightens a bit, like a golden retriever spotting someone holding a tennis ball. “Yeah, I smoked the last I had before coming here but it’s already worn off I think.” And takes a big bite of his two pizza slices. 
So Eddie leads him to a darker nook around the side of the house for the deal, trying not to stare at the way Steve’s cheeks bow out while he chews, like a damn chipmunk. It’s cute. He’s kind of angry that it’s cute, that there’s still a part of him that lights up when Steve looks happy, satisfied, content—and right now all of those boxes are checked. 
“Want to smoke a little now?” Steve offers, once he’s paid and taken the baggie one handed, popped the rest of the food in his mouth, licked his fingers clean, and pulled out a pack of rolling papers. And Eddie pauses too long before answering, long enough that Steve takes the lack of refusal as a yes. 
Which Eddie should correct, because he usually says no to that sort of thing, especially when he’s at parties specifically to sell. He’s turned Steve down before, even; it’s like the guy has a whole thing about offering whenever he plans on lighting up asap. Eddie knows better to fall into that trap. 
But it’s a nice night. The weather is mild for spring, business has been good, and Steve licks his lips to get the last traces of pizza sauce before his tongue darts out to wet the paper and finish rolling the joint. Nice and tight, like the denim hugging Steve’s ass and thighs tighter recently. So Eddie sticks around, breaks his rule and tries to keep his face clear of any evidence that he is fixated on the few degrees of separation between smoking and kissing, heart hammering the entire time. He tells himself it’s a one time only thing, but knows he might be lying. Recognizes how addictive this could be. 
“Thanks for being here,” Steve says after passing the joint back and forth a few times, his eyes glazed and drooping. “Really needed this tonight.”
“That’s what I’m here for, man,” Eddie replies. He’s leaning against the side of the house practically shoulder to shoulder with his crush, and the high washing over him is really taking the edge off the jagged yearning in his chest. Like, he still wants, but he’s happy just floating in the present moment, content with the indirect sharing of spit. And this is… This is okay. 
Surprisingly okay. 
It throws Eddie for a loop because it’s at odds with the whole King Steve image. The whole puppet master persona that isn’t a bully, but can with a few words cut someone down socially to where the bullies could reach them, if they so wish. Popular kids at Hawkins High walk around with their noses in the air like they’ve never smelled a fart and refuse to start now, but this is the guy they turn around and start brown-nosing. King Steve isn’t nice, he’s used to being waited on. Kings do not say thank you to the court jester for simply carrying out his profession. 
Just Steve, though, is different. Just Steve is chill and finished most of an entire huge pizza while mostly sober, is filling out his clothes even better these days in Eddie’s opinion, and currently looks the most at peace he’s ever seen a person. No walls, no guard… Just Steve. 
Okay, that one split joint had gone straight to his head, god damn. 
“Well, I’m gonna take off,” Eddie announces, and can’t tell if he’s said it too loud or not. He pushes off the wall with a shake of his head. “You snagged pretty much the last of my inventory, so I’ll just get out of here before someone starts handing out the torches and pitchforks.”
Steve chuckles. “Like any of those guys in there know how to make a torch,” he scoffs. He manages to say it in a way that almost makes Eddie lean in. Makes him feel like he’s been let in on some sort of inside joke, like they could but those losers couldn’t. 
Which is—Okay, so Eddie does in theory know how to make a torch, he’d looked into it for one of his earliest homebrew campaigns, but Steve Harringnton? The very idea of Steve whipping off his shirt, tying it to a branch, soaking the end in something flammable, and lighting it up is something out of fantasy. Out of specific fantasies that he has had. It snaps Eddie out of the hazy bubble of they that Steve had somehow created with just a few words, and holy shit. Was that one of the side effects of his wonky spell, or was that Just Steve?
“Yeah, sure,” Eddie scoffs back, putting more distance between them even though he does want to lean in, dammit, but he wants Steve to want it too. Even though it’s on the tip of his tongue to ask the guy if he has a ride home, or if he wants to swing by the mom and pop ice cream place on Main for desert or something; Eddie has been practicing swallowing down urges like that since he’d hit adolescence. “Find me next time you need to top up your stash, Harrington.”
He walks away fast enough that if Steve responds he doesn’t hear it, heading for the back gate that he’d left the house for in the first place. His van is parked strategically nearby for a quick getaway, just in case the party got out of hand and a neighbor called the cops. 
And if his dreams that night feature a completely relaxed Steve Harrington chewing on never ending slices of pizza and that blissful look of peace on his face, his lips shiny with spit and grease, it’s not like Eddie is ever going to tell anyone.
Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth
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All i want is you now
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"Get away from me!" Sam yelled.
"Who are you texting?!" Richie yelled.
"None of your business!" Sam yelled.
Richie was about to push her but he stopped himself. And Sam just walked away.
You were eating a pizza with Tara, Chad, and Mindy at the bowling alley. You watched Sam and richie argue and yell at each other. It's an ongoing occurrence. A pattern.
You were in deep thought. It felt like a daydream. You were Sam sitting on the seat. Cuddling as she held you.
Then you snapped back into reality as you heard someone say your name.
"Hello! Earth to (Y/n)! Are you their?" Chad said.
"Huh?" Huh-yeah I'm here". You said.
"What were you thinking so hard about?" Chad asked you.
Her. Sam". You said.
"You like her dont you?" Mindy asked.
"I do". You said.
"I HATE seeing her with Richie". You said.
"Me too". Said Tara. "He is clearly an unstable, insecure little man baby". She said.
Your point of view
Seeing the look in Richie's eyes when he wanted to push her was scary. I'd never treat you like that, Sam. I would tell you everything. I would tell you that you're beautiful, I'd do things for you when you ask me to. Like wash the dishes for you. And fold your clothes and do your laundry so you dont have to stress out about it. I'd go food shopping for you when you tell me to. I would never cheat on you like Richie has. He's a scum bag.
No one's point of view
You were laying in bed. You were fantasizing about when Richie and Sam first met. When he'd send you naughty text messages about he can feel himself touching her. Or when he told her he and Sam should have sex.
It all sickens you. It truly does.
-The next day-
It was Karaoke night at this Italian restaurant. People were singing. You had worked on the song dedicated to Sam for a while. And now this is your chance to tell Sam how you feel about her.
"Are you gonna sing your song tonight (Y/n?)" Tara asked you.
"I am". You said.
"How do you know Richie is cheating on Sam?" Mindy asked.
"Look at this picture", you said. And you showed Tara, Chad, and Mindy a picture of Richie kissing another girl.
"That bastard!" They all said.
Sam was working at her other job as a waitress. You smiled at her and Sam smiled at you too.
It was a warm and kind and friendly smile she gave you and you gave to her too.
"Hey guys". Sam said to everyone.
"Hey sam". Said Tara.
"Hey". Said Chad.
"Hi". Said Mindy.
"(Y/n) I will be your wing woman". Said Tara.
"Tara i can do it". You said.
"I know but I can help you and-" Said Tara.
"Tara-" you said
"But (Y/n)-" said Tara
"Sam Richie is cheating on you". You said to Sam.
"What?" Sam said in disbelief.
Everyone looked at you.
And then...
Richie walked into the restaurant. "Sam! I've been waiting for you let's go!" He yelled.
"Yo dude dont talk to her like that!" You said.
Richie gave you a look. "And who are you?"
"Dont ask me questions". You said to Richie. "You cheated on me Sam. Dont believe me! I have proof!" You said. "See?"
You showed Richie the picture of him kissing another girl.
He took your phone and smashed it with his foot on the floor.
That's when Chad stood up. "Hey! Dude what the hell is your problem?!" Chad yelled to Richie.
Richie tried to touch Sam but you interfered. "Don't touch her". You growled.
"Or what?" Richie said. He got in your face.
You kneed him in his man hood and somehow punched him so hard in the throat he fell down gasping for him.
"Woah!" Said Tara.
"Ha! Richie is out for the count!" Said Mindy.
"Damn (Y/n) where did you learn to punch like that?" Chad asked.
Richie got up and Sam immediately grabbed a chef's knife and pointed it to him. "Touch (Y/n) or my friends or my sister and you die!" Said Sam.
Richie ran away and out of the restaurant.
Tara stood next to you. She said "Now's your chance (Y/n). Go, go!" She encouraged you to sing your song.
You smiled.
You went on the small karaoke area and stood in front of the microphone. "Hi guys! How are you all doing tonight? My name is (Y/n) and this song is dedicated to the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Sam Carpenter. This song is for you". You said.
After you sang to her Sam immediately walked up to you. She put her hands on your waist and that's when it happened. You and Sam finally kissed!!!
"Sam" You said. "I love you. I cant stop thinking about you. Please don't go back to Richie. Please sam. I wanna be with you.Please, please. Please be my girlfriend". You said.
Sam smiled. "Yes! I will be your girlfriend!!" She said to you and you kissed her again. "Will you be my girlfriend?" Sam asked you. "I love you. I see myself being with you for all of eternity". Sam said to you.
"Yes!" You said to Sam. "I will be your girlfriend!" You said.
And everyone clapped and cheered.
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smoshpvnk · 3 months
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Damien x Shayne Ship Questions (from @zillaphoneswag)
Who is the cuddler?
Damien
Who makes the bed?
Shayne
Who wakes up first?
Shayne
Who has the weird taste in music?
Damien
Who is more protective?
Damien
Who sings in the shower?
Both
Who cries during movies?
Both depending on the movie
Who kisses more roughly?
Shayne, maybe…???
Who is more dominant?
Damien ofc
Who is the most affectionate?
Damien (I can literally give one hundred examples)
Most common argument?
Silly: video games, serious: challenging each other’s thoughts almost therapeutically about body image, guilt and shame, habits, etc
Who apologizes first?
Damien, just bc he’s a very apologetic person, but Shayne wouldn’t have any reason to withhold apologies either
Favorite (non-sexual) activity to do together?
Video games, cooking, silently working on projects side by side
Who drives and who rides shotgun?
I think Damien would more often as a gentleman but idk (I’m recovering from driving phobia, I would be curious what their driving journeys looked like. Were they eager to get behind the wheel, or anxious?”
Who is most likely to carry the other?
Damien (for reference)
Nicknames?
For Damien: Dames, Dee, Damienuh, babe, honey, dude, man, idiot, nerd, weeb (probably)
For Shayne: Shay, Shanyé, baby boy, baby bird, babe/baby, hun/honey, my guy, angel, darling (tbh, anything to get him to blush or laugh)
(bonus: scrub, dumbass, sweetheart, good boy, pet, puppy)
Who proposes?
Damien (either, but my heart says…)
Who sings along with the radio?
Both
Who worries the most?
Damien, but both
Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?
Damien
Who is embarrassed to take their clothes off in front of the other?
Both, at first
Who tops?
Damien
Who initiates kisses?
Both, mostly Damien (he’s so touchy. his love language is touch)
Who reaches for the other’s hand first?
Damien
Who is more ticklish?
Shayne
Who brings home an animal they found?
Damien
Who holds the umbrella for the other when it rains?
Damien
Who tries to playfully embarrass the other in public?
Damien
Who kills the scary bugs?
(Damien seems more KILL IT, Shayne is more well let’s at least try to release it outside)
Who asks weird questions at random in the middle of the night?
Damien
Who hogs the blankets?
Shayne
Who wants to stay in bed just a bit longer?
Damien (but both if they’re together)
Who always makes coffee for the other in the morning?
Shayne (only because he probably got up first)
Who says “I love you” first?
Damien
Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first?
Shayne is very casual about it even though his friends/family are excited, sappy and want to make it a bigger deal. Damien is nervous and makes it a bigger deal than it needs to be and feels a wave of relief after finally admitting it
Who is more likely to ask the other to dance with them?
Damien
Who cooks best?
Shayne
Who wears the other’s jacket?
Shayne
Who uses cheesy pickup lines?
Both
Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?
Both
Who makes the other one laugh the most?
Damien
Who needs more reassurance?
Damien
Who would have to bail the other out of jail?
Shayne
What would be their theme song?
Rather Be or Glue Song
What do they do when they’re away from each other?
Text or call with life updates and sappy sweet nothings
Who eats the other’s uneaten pizza crusts?
Damien
Who would accidentally set the kitchen on fire while cooking?
Damien
Who would throw the other into a pool?
Shayne
Who is the morning/night person?
Shayne - morning, Damien, night
Who gives the other person cool-looking rocks?
Damien
Who is the big spoon? Who is the little spoon?
Damien - big, Shayne - little
Who talks smack when playing video games and then loses?
Shayne
Who wants to take lots of pictures of them together?
Damien (have you seen how often Shayne is on his instagram)
Who is most excited to tell their friends they’re dating?
Damien
Who still blushes when they say ‘I love you?’
Shayne
Who is the protective one?
Damien
Who likes to jump into the other person’s arms?
Shayne
Who likes to take artsy photos together?
Damien
What do they like to watch together after a long day?
Anime, probably
Who is most likely to kiss the other on the cheek?
Damien
Who is most likely to break out in a spontaneous dance?
Shayne
Who would sing a love song to the other in the car?
Damien
Who can’t help but giggle when the other compliments them?
Shayne
What do they say to one another before they go to sleep?
“I hate you” (affectionate)
Who looks at the other person like they are their world when they’re not looking?
Damien
Who would win in a pillow fight?
Shayne
Who loves to be held the most?
Shayne
Who asks the other how to spell a word?
Damien
Who loves to have the other rest their head on their chest?
Both
Who makes funny faces to make the other person laugh?
Shayne
Who puts their hand on their partner's knee while driving?
Damien
Who goofs around in the kitchen more?
Damien
How do they say “I love you” without really saying it?
Damien: “I’m proud of you”
Shayne: “Remember when…”
What would they marathon?
Anime, probably
What would their wedding song be?
Starlight by Muse
Who nuzzles into the other?
Both
Who kisses the other on the head before they go to sleep?
Damien
What position do they fall asleep in when sleeping in the same bed?
One laying on top of the other is my favorite trope, so Shayne crushing Damien
Who initiates the first kiss?
Damien
Who asks the other out on the first date?
Damien
Who gets the other out of a speeding ticket?
Shayne
Who sleeps with their dog cat when the other one is gone?
Damien
Who still has the first gift the other gave to them?
Both
Who likes to see the other wearing their sweater?
Damien
Who is the sleepy cute one?
Shayne
Who gives the other person the best cards?
Both give either funny, possibly cursed cards or extremely sentimental and heartfelt, there is no in between.
Who gives a hilarious speech at their wedding about how they met?
Damien (see: Shayne’s graduation)
Who has a vast knowledge of random facts?
Damien
Who likes to clean?
Shayne
Who would be a lovey-dovey drunk?
Shayne
Who can’t stop laughing at their own jokes?
Shayne
Who distracts the driver by being a bit too provocative in the car?
Shayne
Who is the competitive one?
Shayne (Damien’s argument: there’s no need to be competitive if you’re just good)
Who asks the other’s parents for their partner’s hand in marriage?
Damien
Who puts their cold hands/feet on the other?
Shayne
Who worries more about the other?
Damien
Who is more likely to lock themselves out of the house?
Shayne (Damien can just lock pick, and has facetimed Shayne to teach him before)
Who would slide down the hall in their socks?
I can picture both doing this. nerds
Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place?
(…both)
Who likes to walk around the house naked and who tells the other to go put some clothes on?
1) Shayne 2) Damien
Who takes photos of the other while they sleep?
Damien
Who likes flower crowns more?
Shayne
Who is the meme lover?
Both
Who has to teach the other how to fold a fitted sheet?
Shayne
Who’s afraid of thunderstorms?
Neither, but on a sensitive day, Damien, which of course Shayne is receptive of and gives extra affection and care
Who cries over the ASPCA commercials?
Damien
Who considers the other the love of their life?
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nescaveckwriter · 4 months
Text
Paintbrushes & Romance 🥰🐞 - Part 18
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Dean x Female Reader
A/N: We are this close to the ending y'all, please bare with me with this chapter. So much still needs to happen, I'm excited and saddened at the same time.🐞🥰
Side Note: Thank you bugsies for all the love and support, much, much love🥰🐞
Warnings: Fluff, anger, if theres anything else let me know...🐞🥰
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No! babe, a little more to the right, okay no, wait stop, just a tiny bit more to the left. There that's perfect.
Dean collapse onto the couch he just moved for about the tenth time, if I knew, it was going to be so much work, moving in with you, I would've said let's life separately, even when we get married, he sighs.
Her eyes throwing darts, at him, folded arms, pouting her lips a bit, oh really Dean? There's the door!
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Bursting out into laughter, Dean gets up, walking towards her, his eyes reflecting the lighting from the sunset, oh my  sweetheart, can't take a little joke now, he teased.
Crinkling her nose, I don't think it was funny, her lower lip trembling. Turning away from Dean walking towards the, rustic open plan kitchen.
Grabbing ahold of her arm, I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, his husky voice low, what's the matter, you seem a little emotional?
You were on the right track Dean, until you said I seem a little emotional, of course I'm damn emotional, I'm exhausted, dirty, and freaking hungry, so I'm going to fix dinner, shaking her arm out of his grip.
I didn't mean to say it that way, flinching at the look she gives him, you know what, I'm not going to say anything, until you get something to eat. Just one last thing babe, why don't you sit, I'll fix us something.
Her face brightens a little, really, she pouts
Yes, really sweetheart, laughing, leading her back to the sofa, you can be so dramatic!
Dean! not helping she warned.
I'm a brave man, I can take whatever attitude you throw at me, shouting from the kitchen. Hearing a giggle escaping her lips, makes him smile. Busy fixing them some ham and cheese sandwiches, he hums a Zeppelin song.
Okay sweetheart, this is going to be the best damn sandwiches ever, almost sliding across the wooden floor, placing the two plates on a make believe table, of a box titled, paintbrushes and other supplies. Baby? Turning to see, she's falling asleep on the sofa all curled up, her hair that was earlier tied up in a messy bun, now slightly loose, framing her angelic face, scouting for a throw or blanket to cover her up, mumbling underneath his breath, how blessed am I!
__________
The moving in weekend is finally over, and by Thursday, their little place looks like a home. She's unpacking the last of the kitchenware when she catches a glimpse of Dean in the corner of her eye. Babe something the wrong?
As a matter of fact there is, sweetheart, how am I suppose to go to work, when you look so hot, I can barely keep my eyes of off you? 
His smoky voice, filling her ears,  her cheeks a light rosy pink, and her lips forming a smile. Oh stop it, she mocked. 
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I'm just telling you the honest truth, smirking now. Goodbye sweetheart, kissing her on the crown of her head, then stealing a quick deep kiss, before pulling himself away.
Bye Babe, be safe, I love you, her fruity voice filled with happiness.
Love you too, hearing him in the distance, makes her heart flutter. Is this what true happiness feels like she asked to no-one really.
_________
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Hey babe, remember a few months ago, I told you about the case, I was working on, and the man who jumped in front of a bullet for me, when I was out of town, yeah I invited him for dinner or pizza, or something, it doesn't matter, I just want you meet him, hope its okay... the voicemail service cuts Dean off.
He laughs, why does she even have a cellphone, only she knows. Come on man, get in, gesturing to the car, I need  to introduce you to my fiancée, I have an idea she will love to get to know you, she has a big heart! I'm sure she'll set you up in the guest room, so you can stay the night.
Dean, I really don't want to impose, sounding more distant than the man intended.
Oh come on, you won't, get in, Dean demanded
The man takes Dean up on his offer, thank you, giving him a half smile.
On the drive over the two men talked about how much life changed since the last time they saw each other.
Life has a funny way of working out, with its curveballs and all, who would've thought that I Dean Winchester would be marrying a wonderful women.
When's the big day, the deep voice, heavy with accent interrupted him.
It is in two weeks, we didn't want a long engagement, his smile wrapping across his face.
Oh! Well congrats Dean, he expressed.
Thanks, we're here! Pulling into the driveway.
Its a lovely place you have here Dean, he replied.
Hearing Dean mumbling something, he catches a glimpse of a wind charm, hanging by the porch, filled with leaves and lady bugs. I used to know someone who loves those tiny creatures so much saying in a hushed tone.
Dean laugh's, I bet you no-one loves them more than my girl. Dean's phone ringing, breaks the conversation, before picking up, he gesture's to the man, he can enter the house so long, but he needs to take this call first.
Thanks, he hesitated. Stepping on the porch, admiring the rustic house, opening the screen door, he catches a glimpse of her, standing on a ladder, bare feet, a paint stained shirt, and shorts, her hair in a loose braid, singing Bon Jovi's It's my life while painting.
There it is again, the out of control beating of his heart, he lets out a sigh, contemplating if he should say hi, or run. Before even realizing he walked closer, standing almost at the ladder, she always had the power to overtake all his common sense, filling him with wonder.
The paint brush in her hand, drops to the floor, oh come on, shit, really, adjusting her footing, stepping miss on the first step, coming to a fall. He catches her, not uttering a single word.
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Her wide eyes looks up into his sky blue eyes, shock on her face. Benny!!! She yelps.
Hello Darling, its good to see you, his smoky voice, low.
His arms still wrapped around her. W..what are you doing here she stutters.
Its a long story Darling, you look as beautiful as ever, trying to fight the urge to kiss her, his voice breathy.
As if she read his mind, she shy's away, loosening out of his grip. Concern on her face, her voice shaky, this can't be happening.
Darling I'm so sorry, Dean insisted, and in full honesty there was the slightest bit of hope in me, that the two of you didn't get back together, and that he was talking about someone else.
Benny!! I never told Dean your name, nor have I really said what happened between us, this is a disaster, a freaking disaster.
Your right, I don't know what I was thinking, Benny said faking a smile. Turning around, walking towards the door, he stops dead in his tracks, glancing over to her, his voice even lower and deeper than before, I am really glad your happy darling.
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Before she could reply, Dean's voice filled with anger, rushed over them. What the hell is this Benny? Tossing the sketchpad against him, the note he kept in there flung across the room.
Dean, calm down, I don't want trouble, Benny's voice seemed calm but stern.
Shut up! Just.... Shut up, Dean's jaw tightened. His eyes darker than usual!
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Look man! Benny begun. Before he could finish his sentence, Dean's fist met the side of his jaw, making him stumble a bit backwards, swiping the blood from his busted lip, before throwing his hands up in a defensive position. Just stop Dean your making a fool of yourself, his voice stern.
Get out, of my damn house, you are testing me, Dean shouted! Glaring at Benny, with pursed lips, you knew who I was along didn't you?
Benny wanted to reply to Dean, but got interrupted.
Stop it, just stop it, her voice filled with concern and fear. Her cheeks a flushed red and tearstained.
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Both men looking at her, not saying a single word, until Dean cocks his head back to Benny, shouting, I will shoot you if you come near her again, she's mine!!!
Anger on her face, I'm not anyone's possession Dean, her pupils are blown and darker that he'd every seen. I'm not some object! Running out the door, stopping for a few seconds, glaring at both men, do not follow me and when I get home, you two children better start acting like the grown freaking men you are. Rushing to the car she gets in, speeding off.
The two angry men is left standing there, shock on there face, listening to the roaring of the impala's engine.
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moonshinemusings · 1 year
Note
i really enjoy your headcanons! Can you pleeeaaassee do it for my baby boy Alex :,) i love the ones with Alex. Love youu!!!
Thank you, I'm really glad you like them! Here are some more of my thoughts about Alex :)
---
General Alex Keller headcanons (Pt.1)
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Warnings: slight mentions of canon typical violence
A/N: there are so many mentions of food in this?? I'm sorry, I just have some very specific thoughts about him lol
• I'm a firm believer this man runs hot like a furnace no matter the season. In the summer he should be suffering, but somehow he's used to the heat
• Dog person. When people say dogs look like their owners they are talking about him. He probably owns a beige labrador or a golden retriever
• He's good with most animals, but bigger ones like cows or horses kinda intimidate him. Only at first though, when he gets to spend some time with them he really enjoys their presence
• The only animals he really dislikes are birds. No specific reason, he just does
• He's somewhat an artistic soul; he likes to write song lyrics (although he can't really sing), design new tattoos for himself, try to scribble poems
• Alex loves specifically the pink cotton candy. As a kid he used to eat them often and they are still a comfort food of his
• Despite that, he likes salty and savory things over sweets
• An exception is vanilla pudding because he could eat it for the rest of his life. His second favorite is the caramel flavour
• He also looks like the average honey-mustard chicken enjoyer. With pasta. You know what, I think he LOVES any kinds of pasta
• He's also a fruit lover, his favorites are tangerines and strawberries. He totally eats his apple slices with peanut butter too
• Loves pizza even when he knows it's stereotypical. His mother used to make really good home made ones when he was younger and he never really grew out of the "I can eat a whole pizza in one sitting" phase
• Also, when he's drunk he always craves pizza, no matter where they are or how much he had to drink
• Speaking of, he can hold his tequila but weak to beer. Shots do almost nothing to him, but a few beers and he's down
• When he's drunk and gets together with Gaz and/or Soap, everyone is going to suffer from their volume and pranks. The amount of bullshit that can come out of their mouths those times is honestly impressive
• Still, he's king of respecting women tbh. If there is someone who's going to be polite and won't cross any boundaries even when in a pub shitfaced, it's him
• Alex is one of the worst when it comes to gossip because he wants to know all the tea. It's hilarious when he tells something he just heard to Farah and she already knows
• He's naturally easy-going and laidback, most know him for his friendliness as a close second to his abilities
• He's really good with kids. Alex is like the fun cousin you only meet at family gatherings, but those times he teaches you some tricks and tells the best stories you will forever remember
• He has one specific sniper rifle that he has gotten from his father at a young age. It can't usually be with him on missions because he has an assigned weapon, but when he can he takes the chance to use it on the field
• His favourite colors are green and red
• Most of his tattoos don't hold any deep meaning, only a few represent something/remind him of something/someone
• The codename Echo 3-1 is really close to his heart for some reason, if he could he'd keep it forever
• He's not a big fan of coffee, but still drinks it for the caffeine and out of habit
• He has occassional nightmares and night terrors (which soldier doesn't), but they are not as frequent as they used to be when he was younger
• Opposite of what others may believe, his hair takes like 5 minutes to style in the morning. Sometimes he puts some gel on it when it has already started to grow a little longer, but otherwise he just ruffles it and let's it do what it wants
• Some has told him before that he'd be a great leader, but Alex always denied it. He doesn't feel like he's cut out for that kind of responsibility
• He often bickers with Price, but only outside of missions. He's a pro at knowing when to take something seriously or joke about and that makes him really efficient in the field
• Alex often puts others before him, which almost cost him his life a few instances before. He doesn't think it would have been in vain though
• He loves to spend time in the nature, going on hikes, camping or hanging around the beach all day. Doesn't matter as long as he's outside
• As a kid, he tried to play football but hated it
• He used to be really good at math, but somehow as he got older he just gradually became worse
• In school he was the best at geography, communications and for a while math (as mentioned)
• He doesn't per se have a problem with flying, but would much rather travel through cars or other vehicles on the ground. They are much more comfortable, even if he likes being high up (hence his sniper position)
• When he was a kid, he didn't think about joining the army, although his father was a marine. He thought he was going to get a scholarship somewhere with his sport abilities or just land a decent place at a regular university. Turns out life had different plans, but he didn't regret it one bit
• He's totally the type to use emojis like 💀 and🧍🏻‍♀️ or the crying one when he laughs at something
• He's great at household chores and keeping the place running
• Alex can't exactly cook, but he can adjust just a few ingredients in a boxed food mix. It always turns out heavenly and no one can tell he didn't make all of it
• Deals well with horror movies but doesn't really like them
• Okay this last one if really specific and random at the same time, but he 100% eats the little chocolate roll things out of this wafer mix and no one can convince me otherwise
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mabelstone · 8 months
Text
Promises
matt stone x reader
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part two of handsome stranger <3
masterlist ✧˖°.
note: i am such a sap this heals something deep within me. enjoy babies, hopefully gonna post more but don't hold me to that.. also sorry for all the typos in part one hehe. aiming to do some of your song reqs because there are SO MANY, anyway love ya
word count: 1278
Last night was more fulfilling than words could express and you couldn't stop reminiscing. The way he said your name, enunciating it with his accent, each vowel that dripped from his tongue sweet and thick like honey. He was so respectful, so obviously not trying to push any boundaries. You wanted so badly to touch him, to interlock your fingers, feel his lips on your own... only somewhat satiated when he hugged you goodbye, his big arms around you, so warm and gentle. He smelt so nice, not necessarily of cologne but maybe his sweet pheromones. It sounds weird when it's put like that but it's all you could think about.
Thats why you were thankful to be walking through your apartment door at 5pm sharp, a chance to see that sweet smile through the window again. You exchanged numbers last night but he hadn't messaged you yet. You were a little worried naturally that maybe he didn't enjoy you as much as you did him, but you tried your best to ignore the negative thoughts and enjoy your evening.
You opened your window and were surprised to see Matt leaning out of his, cigarette between his fingers as expected. Not wanting to disrupt him you eyed him for a moment, before walking away to start dinner. Then you phone buzzed.
Matt: She's home!
Matt: And she didn't even say hello
You giggled down at your phone, walking back to the windowsill to shoot him a shy smile that was reciprocated with a wave.
You: hello :)
Matt: What's for dinner?
You: what do you feel like?
Matt: I'm invited?
You: always
You glanced up to see him cheesing at his phone, looking up at you before clutching a hand over his chest. As someone who was very bold in her early twenties, this was incredibly vanilla for you, but something about him made you a whole new level of shy. You were worried to mess anything up with him already, and you'd only just formally met the guy.
His caller ID flashed across your screen, answering with your eyes locked on one another.
"I'm thinking something simple, like pizza," he beamed through the phone, his voice just as warm as the night before.
"Thank god, I have no food," you laughed, nervously fiddling with the cord of your blinds. "I'll send you some money if you know a good place."
"No, no, my treat to you." He offered, gesturing no with a wave of his hand. Oh no... you were going to fall hard for this man. "I'll go get it now and I'll bring it up to you. What do you like?"
"Uh, anything," you smiled down at your hands, now toying with the hem of your skirt. "I feel bad... I owe you one."
"You go get all cosy for me and we'll call it even." And with that he hung up, taking the final drag of his cigarette before waving goodbye and slipping back into his apartment.
You quickly collected yourself and got in the shower, that stupid grin not leaving your lips once. You opted for this nice white dress you owned considering he'd only seen you in your work clothes and pyjamas. You lit a few candles and put on some soft music in the background.
As a knock sounded from the door, Ho Hey by the Lumineers started playing. You rolled your eyes, how cliché. He was wearing a black shirt and jeans, nothing special, but wow. You played it cool while your organs were doing acrobats in your stomach, opting for a soft, "hi, Matt."
"Hey, pretty," he smiled as you moved out of the way for him, placing the pizza on the kitchen bench. "It smells so good in here," he sighed, eyes scanning over your apartment as he leant against the bench.
"Caramel," you smiled, grabbing a candle to hold to his nose. "I used to make them when I first moved here to pass the time."
"Do you have any spares?" He asked gently, eyes not leaving yours once.
"Mhm," you disappeared into another room to give him one with a ribbon wrapped around the jar. The look he gave you was incomparable, and for a second there, you were certain he felt the same. "So, what'd you get?" You tried to pierce through the delicious tension in the air that you were far too sober for.
"I didn't know what you liked, so I got one of each." He opened one of the boxes to reveal a full pizza with mismatched slices.
"That is so sweet," you swooned, fighting every urge in your body to not attack his lips with yours right then and there. "I- do you like wine?"
He made some comment about how he'll drink just about anything, which led to the most pointless yet captivating conversation about your social lives. You wanted to know everything and anything about him, he was singlehandedly the most magnetic person you'd met in this country.
✴︎✴︎✴︎
You'd been sat comfortably on your couch for 3 hours by this point, although it had only felt like 15 minutes. So comfortable, in fact, that your legs were now sprawled over his as he played with the charms on your bracelet.
"I'll be going back home for Christmas," you answered his question on what your plans for the holidays were. You felt kind of shitty considering he told you about how he doesn't see his own family much. He pursed his lips and nodded, to which you sat up beside him, hoping to lighten the mood with, "but I really wish I could see snow. It'll be summer in Australia."
"You've never seen snow?" He sounded shocked, brows furrowing in disbelief.
"Nope. Sometimes in winter there, the days are too warm to even wear a jumper. But the nights are freezing."
"Jumper?" He asked confused. This was what most of your night consisted of. You'd use a word that he didn't understand, which resulted in you americanising it.
"Sorry- sweatshirt." You laughed.
"Oh!" He laughed too, nodding. He'd eventually learn your tongue. Double entendre maybe? "But really? I practically lived in snow growing up in Colorado."
"I'm so jealous!" You groaned, throwing your head back dramatically. "I've always always wanted to, and of course I'm not gonna be here when I finally get the chance."
"Don't worry, kid." He reassured you, his hand finding the back of your head to smooth your hair down. "I'll take you to the snow someday."
"Yeah?" Your voice lowered as your eyes connected yet again, each of your different shades of green starting to be disappear behind growing pupils.
"Promise," he nodded, eyes shifting between your gaze and your lips, before the space between you diminished to nothing. You closed your eyes as you melted into him, his lips warm and soft, the vague smell of cigarette lingering intermittently. You moved together synchronously, his warm hands guiding you into his lap gently, your own finding themselves nestled in his hair, travelling down to cup his jaw. You parted your lips slightly in invitation, one he silently accepted as your tongues danced with one another, the feeling of his soft breaths tickling your upper lip. He tasted like wine, and he applied the perfect amount of pressure with his arm wrapped around your waist, tracing gentle circles into your sides.
You pulled away briefly, arms draping his shoulders as you grinned ear to ear, "I'll be holding you to that, you know."
"I'm a man of my word," he whispered, placing a chaste but sweet kiss to your lips. "You'll learn that, I promise."
awhhh so cute. sex next chapter lol xx
didn't proof read again, forgive me i'm lazy
33 notes · View notes
markleesthighs · 2 years
Note
May I req for Johnny x idol!y/n and like their first public appearance at an award after being caught by dispatch... I hope it isn't too much for me to ask this~ TQ!!
Btw I LOVE your Mark and Johnny's fic
-ty sm! I hope you enjoy your request!
This was your worst nightmare. With your phone blowing up and non stop paparazzi, you didn’t know what do you. After dispatch had leaked that you and Johnny were dating, your company had contacted you about whether or not it was true. You had called Johnny asking him for advice and what you guys had to do. Johnny was tired of beating around the bush and confirmed it with SM already. You obliged, agreeing to confirm the rumors.
Later that afternoon both SM and your company released this statement.
“We have talked to both parties and they both can confirm that they are in a relationship. We ask that you ask no further questions at this time.”
Fuck, it’s in the air now I guess. Your phone was flooded with a mix of hate comments and support, not to mention your follower counts going down. You felt like it was the end of your career. You started getting flashbacks to other idols, seeing how people handled their relationships whether it was with another idols or private. They were not good.
Your manager cancelled the rest of your activities for the week, so your promotion and appearances wouldn’t be affected by this, hoping it would die down in a week. Then, you remember that the following week you had to appear at an award show Johnny was also attending. This could not get any worse. Your phone buzzed and your manager reminded you that you and NCT 127 were going to compete in a music bank award.
You could feel the world crumbling around you. You just stayed at home eating your heart away, getting takeout and watching Korean dramas on the TV. You heard your doorbell ring, assuming it was your takeout but then you opened the door to see Johnny. He was about to speak when you slammed the door in his face.
You looked at your door camera to see Johnny pout and beg into the camera for you to open the door again. You didn’t budge. He started singing your songs loudly in the hallway while dancing to your choreography and you got embarrassed, opening the door scolding him to stop and come inside. Johnny surprisingly read your mind and brought you some of your favorite foods and snacks.
“Why are you here?”
“I can’t also enjoy my week off with my pretty girlfriend?” He said innocently.
“You got bored at the dorm didn’t you?”
“You caught me, besides your place is much bigger and less noisy.”
You laughed as you hugged him and he kissed the top do your head while rubbing your back.
“How have you been holding up?”
“Not good.”
He lifted your chin up.
“I can tell, your eyes are a little puffy.”
The the door rang again, that was definitely your takeout.
Johnny stared at you shocked,
“Are you cheating on me?!“ with a dramatic voice.
“Relax you big baby, I ordered some pizza.”
“PIZZA!”
You opened the door and thanked the delivery man and handing him a tip. You placed the pizza on the counter, leaving to go wash your hands. When you came back you already saw Johnny with a slice in his hands about to eat it. You slapped his shoulder yelling at him that the pizza wasn’t for him. But you obliged to his puppy eyes begging you to let him eat some.
“So what’s going to happen next week?”
“What do you mean?”
“My manager reminded me that we’re going to be at MAMA and then music bank later on next week.”
“We just do what we normally did, ignore each other, respectfully. Also aren’t you performing at MAMA?”
“Shit, I completely forgot about that, I’m going to get a black ocean for sure.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, I’m going to message nctzens to keep their light sticks on for you, so you don’t feel scared.”
“Aww thanks.”
“Anything for you, besides, your song is really good to shake a light stick to.”
You laughed as you and Johnny spent the week together like it was quarantine, you had fun playing board games, watching movies and shows, and cooking together. Maybe next week wasn’t going to be so bad.
I lied. It was bad. The moment you stepped out of your car for MAMA, billions of paparazzi was pointing their cameras as you, asking millions of questions about Johnny. You skipped the red carpet event to avoid any other paparazzis and went straight into the green room. Unfortunately, Johnny also got mobbed by paparazzi, but couldn’t skip the red carpet event because he was with NCT 127.
You were shaking in the green room nervous about the performance and the audiences reaction to you. You hadn’t performed and sang live in a while, you felt like you were debuting again. Then you get a text from Johnny,
“Go kill it out there, I’ll be there supporting you.”
That made you smile, that’s all you needed to get up from your nervous self and you walked backstage fidgeting, listening to the group performing before you. Then it was your turn. You got on your platform that was going to lift you up in a grand entrance before you started singing your song. You saw that the nctzens still had their light sticks on for you as you sang and danced. Even some of your fans also sang along and screamed the loudest, which made you feel really good. During your dance break you saw some of your idol friends cheering for you, and you felt loved again. When you were done, people were screaming and cheering. You bowed and ran back to your manager squealing and jumping. You changed out of your performance outfit and back into award show attire.
When you returned, other groups and idols stood up to bow and greet you. When you reached Johnny, he smiled at you the brightest. He saw that your seats were further down a staircase, and he grabbed your hand and helped guided you down and made sure you had a blanket for your dress and were comfortable. You thanked him and playfully shooed him away. He ran back up to his group members who were laughing at him.
You cheered for the other groups and enjoyed other performances for the rest of the night. You got back home safely and passed out from exhaustion, at least it wasn’t the worst.
The next morning, you saw billions of news articles,
“Johnny supporting y/n is the cutest thing we’ve seen this week”
“Nctzens keep their light sticks on in support of y/n”
“Johnny and y/n interactions that made us blush”
“Johnny being a gentlemen, hypeman, and fanboy at MAMA for y/n”
You laughed at all the tabloids, not seeing many being super negative. So that made you more confident throughout the week until you had to go on Music Bank.
At Music Bank you and Johnny showed up at different times, there were fans outside screaming and supporting you both as always. NCT 127 had to perform before you so you watched them practice and perform dozen of times while you were getting ready. After Johnny was done, he surprised you by stopping by your green room with the other members. He was playing with your curled hair and pretending to be your makeup artist tickling you with brushes. You also greeted the other members, catching up with them. They all said goodbye leaving you to get ready to perform.
When you got on stage for a sound check, you saw a couple of your fans in the audience cheering along to your songs. Then when you had to perform, confetti had to come out of cannons near the stage, so you walked up and warned the fans to back up a little so they won’t get hurt. You performed with dozens of cheers and excitement when the confetti blasted. When you finished you felt like you got a rush of energy, bowing dozens of times to staff and your fans in the audience.
Then came the awards, NCT 127 against you, Music Bank always made you nervous, seeing the scores and then debating if your math skills were right that day. You both stood on opposite sides of the stage as you watched the numbers be presented on the screen. You were looking and then, you won. You won?! The MCs congratulated you, walking over to hand you your award. You thanked them and you bowed to NCT 127 thanking them too. Johnny ran over to quickly hug you, and whispered,
“I’m so proud of you.”
You thanked him as he was about to run off stage, as your song started to play for you to perform for the end of the show. NCT 127 came back on and you teasingly gave them all the mic to sing the song. They also danced alongside you and you had such a fun time with them. This is the happiest you’ve been in a while. Maybe it was all worth it.
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moody4world · 1 year
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Got my twin with me like the parent trap (pt.4)
A/N: I know it took forever to post this and I sincerely apologize. I was super busy and couldn’t find the time to sit down and write how I wanted to. Hope this makes up for it🤍
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Once Jack was done helping Andre unpack he went downstairs to his studio to continue on a new song he was writing. As much as he tried he couldn’t get the thought of Hayden looking and acting different out of his mind. “I go a few weeks without seeing the kid and suddenly something’s off.” He says to himself. He shakes the thoughts off and goes back to writing.
Meanwhile Andre just walked outside to the pool in his swimming trunks ready to test out the pool. As expected, Stephanie was also near the pool with his dad, on one of the fancy chairs that his uncle Jack definitely did not choose on his own. “Come on Hayds let me introduce you to a friend of mine. This is Stephanie Walsh.” Urban wrapped his arm around Andre’s shoulder pulling him closer to Stephanie.
“Hi, well well well if it isn’t the famous Hayden, I have been hearing things about you all summer.” Was the first thing Stephanie said to Andre. He didn’t like how she spoke in a baby voice to him as if he was a little kid, not even his own parents did that to him. If he was raised a little less proper he would’ve been a bit mean towards his dad’s supposed friend but he was raised right so he kept his composure to the best of his abilities. “Well here I am.” Andre said with some fake enthusiasm.
“Oh Urban he is adorable.” Urban had a proud smile on his face, however Andre was not as amused. “You know, your father talks about you all the time. I was convinced you’d be a little daddy’s boy but you are so grown up.”
Her tone was really getting on Andre’s nerves. “Yeah, i’ll be seventeen soon. How old are you, thirty seven?” Andre could see Stephanie’s eyebrows go up in shock. “I’m twenty four actually.” “Oh so only seven years older than me..how old are you again dad?” Urban noticed that there was some slight tension going on and immediately got up at that question. “Wow suddenly you like math, uhm i’m gonna go inside and get some more pizza and maybe a couple beers to celebrate.” “What are we celebrating?” Andre asked all confused. “Your homecoming of course.” Stephanie answered obviously. “Be right back.” Urban left the two alone as he went inside.
Just as Urban walked away, Stephanie’s phone started ringing. “Stephanie Walsh” She raised a finger towards Andre in a ‘give me a moment’ gesture and continued her call. Andre decided to go on and dip his toes in the water to check the temperature. His ears however were listening to Stephanie’s conversation. “Hello Mr. Tanner, oh yes of course.”
“Mhm i’m writing it all down.” At that sentence Andre turned to look at her, knowing that it was a full on lie. “Oh of course it’s a great plan and I agree but unfortunately Mr. Wyatt and Mr. Harlow will be out of the country those days.” This also caught Andre’s attention. “Yes I will pass the message to him, thank you.” Once she hung up and set her phone aside she decided to engage in more conversation with Andre as if nothing had just happened.
She scooted to the end of the poolside chair so she could be somewhat closer to where Andre was sitting at the edge of the pool. “So Hayds, how was camp? Was it adventurous?” Andre did not answer the question, instead he decided to ask what really interested him. “My dad’s going out of the country?” “Oh no, I just had to tell a little white lie to get him out of something.” Stephanie giggled awkwardly. “You know, I have never heard a man talk about his kid the way your father talks about you, you two seem pretty close. Even your uncle speaks very highly of you.” Andre stood up, getting ready to jump into the pool. “Well you know, we are pretty close. We’re all each other have.” He shrugged with a mischievous smirk before cannonballing into the pool, splashing water all over Stephanie’s dress.
She squealed and hurriedly stood up from her chair. She grabbed the nearest towel on the other chair and started patting herself dry. Once Andre got back up he acted shocked and sympathetic. “Oh sorry, did I get you wet Steph?” He asked in a mocking tone. Stephanie sighed frustratingly and replied “Oh just a bit Hayds.”
“You know, your dad took me riding the other day and he let me borrow your bike. I hope that’s okay with you.” “Oh sure. The bike did feel strange when i used it earlier..not that you’re strange or anything. Actually compared to the others you’re pretty normal.”
Stephanie raised an eyebrow at that. “Others? what others?” “I mean… if I was a woman I would want to know about the other women if I was number twenty nine in a man’s life.”
“I’m number twenty nine?” Stephanie asked offendedly. “Yeah, it’s always the same routine. Bike riding, take her to the studio, romantic dinners multiple nights.” Just as Stephanie was about to ask another question Urban came back out with a pizza box in one hand and some bottles of beer in the other.
Later that night Andre texted Hayden who was more than happy about being in London and meeting his mother.
Andre 💂🏽‍♂️
Facetime me right now!!!
Hayds🤞🏽
uhhh you know it’s day time over here right? do you want my ass to get caught?!
Andre 💂🏽‍♂️
It’s really not that hard Hayden just facetime me this is a serious problem!!!
Hayds 🤞🏽
ok ok damn chill with the exclamation marks btw thank god we both have the same phone with a clear case because i completely forgot that our people could notice that
Andre 💂🏽‍♂️
Thank god one of us has a brain. I noticed that from the beginning which is why I never bothered about it and could you PLEASE use commas when you text? You’re making my life harder than it is right now. FACETIME ME.
Hayden rolled his eyes at his dramatic brother and finally face timed him.
“What was such a big problem that it had to be over facetime? You better not ruin this for the both of us.” Hayden said as soon as Andre accepted the call.
“Well you’re going to want to hear this so brace yourself. Dad has a girlfriend.”
The reaction that Andre was waiting for never came. Hayden simply stared at him, sort of waiting for him to say something else. “Well? Aren’t you going to say something about that?” Andre asks annoyedly. “Nope, dad has a new ‘girlfriend’ every other month Andre, it’s nothing to worry about.” Hayden shrugs
“You told me that but this one seems like a serious thing Hayds, he let her borrow your bike.” Unlike the first announcement, this time Hayden definitely reacted. He was shocked that his dad would let someone borrow his bike that was so precious to him. “MY BIKE?! My precious baby, is she okay?! Did you check everything for me?!”
Andre rolled his eyes. “Yes I checked your precious baby for you…weirdo.” “It’s so funny when you say shit like weirdo with your british accent. So what are we gonna do about this girl? What’s her name anyway and what does she look like?” “Her name is Stephanie Walsh, some type of banker. Long black hair, kinda looks like Vanessa Hudgens.” “Banker?! that’s new.” “Exactly. And get this, no bbl and no fillers either. “No bbl AND no fillers? That’s definitely new when it comes to dad. We might have a problem on our hands Andre.”
“Ya think?! You HAVE to bring mom over here immediately.” Andre demanded. “Andre are you crazy? I’ve only had one day with her. I can’t and I won’t. I wan’t to spend more time with her.” “But dad’s in love!” “Dad doesn’t fall in love, we’ll be fine. Just break them up, lie about something if you have to.”
“Well I would but i’m clearly at a slight disadvantage. I only met the man less than twenty four hours ago.”
“Oh sorry what was that? My airpods cut off I can’t hear you Andre.”
“Can you hear me now?”
“I- connection- hear- you” Hayden lied while turning his wifi on and off.
“Hayd-“ Hayden hung up the facetime, cutting his brother off. He was having so much fun getting to spend time with you that the thought of going back to a life without his mom really saddened him. He wasn’t ready for that.
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The next morning in Louisville, Andre was with Jack in the kitchen while Jack was making breakfast for the two. “Your dad wanted to go for a bike ride with you but you overslept so he asked you to meet him in the backyard with your bike later when you’re done with breakfast.” “Oh okay sure.”
“But of course I would oversleep too if I was up at three in the morning on a phone call.” Jack said suspiciously.
“Oh that.. I was calling my friend from camp. They forgot about our time difference so they called me.”
Jack stared at Andre hoping that he would crack but the boy did not budge. “Okay, if you say so.”
“Meet your dad when you’re done with breakfast.” Andre took one bite from his toast and said “All done” and ran to the door. Andre pulled and pulled on the door but it wouldn’t move. “Push bro.”Jack said watching him from the kitchen. Andre pushed the door and it opened with ease. Well that’s embarrassing. “Oh..right I forgot.” He ran out to the backyard to meet up with his dad. Jack shook his head at Andre’s actions. He couldn’t help but wonder “What has gotten into that kid?”
Urban and Andre were riding their bikes to a nearby park where Urb would usually do bike rides with Hayden. “Hayd I wanna talk to you about Stephanie.” Urban said out of the blue. “And I want to talk to you about my mother.” Andre said. Urban glances at him quickly before looking back to where he’s riding. “What about your mother?” “Well I still haven’t met her and i’m turning seventeen soon. Dad I really thinks it’s about time I have a mom.” “I do think it’s about time you have a mom.” As they pulled up to the parking lot, to Andre’s surprise, Stephanie was also there but she had another man with her. They got off of their bikes and went to Stephanie and her friend.
“Hey honey.” She greeted Urban excitingly with a huge smile on her face. She hugged him and kisses his cheek, leaving a print from her red lipstick. “Hi Hayd.” Andre simply nods curtly to her. “Stephanie.”
She falsely smiles and turns back to Urban. “Have you told him yet?” “About to.” The two whisper to each other with Andre and the other man standing there awkwardly. “Why don’t the three of us go out to dinner tonight?” She suggested out loud. “Oh no can do Steph I promised Hayd we’d hang out all day today.” Urban declined. “That’s fine, I have plenty of work to do. We’ll talk later Urby.” Stephanie turned around and walked to what seemed to be her car followed by her friend who Andre assumed was her assistant. Once they’re in the car, Stephanie lets out an annoyed groan. “Step one, get that annoying and sassy little boy into a far away boarding school.” She started the car and they drove off.
As Urban and Andre are taking the usual path, Urban makes a stop once they reached the top of the path. “Are you excited for our camping trip?” “What camping trip?” “What camping trip?” Urban repeated in offense. “The one we take every summer before you go back to school.” He says. “Oh yeah that camping trip. Yeah i can’t wait!” He lied.
“So uh Hayd, what do you think of Stephanie?” Urban asked him. “As what dad? Your financial adviser? Your friend? Your-“ “No just in general Hayd, what do you think of her? As a person.” Andre did not like where this was going at all. Was he really so smitten over this girl??? “Well, she’s cute, she has nice teeth. Honestly dad Stephanie’s a complete stranger to me. Why do you want my opinion on her anyway?”
“I’ll tell you why Hayd.” Urban turned to Andre. “Hayd, believe it or not.” Andre didn’t let Urban finish his sentence. He refused. So he did the next best thing he could think of. “RACE YOU HOME DAD” he said as he took off on his bike, paddling as fast as he could so he can get home. “HAYD i’m trying to tell you something” Urban called after him but Andre paid no mind. Urban started paddling as well but Andre was already far gone. Once andre got to the yard he threw his bike down and ran into the house.
He was walking back and forth in the living room completely stressed. “This is too much for me to handle! I can’t handle all of this i’m just a kid!” He told himself. He leaned on the back of the seat, taking off his hat to scratch his hair. “You got something you wanna share with the class, big man?” Andre gasped and jumped from shock. He had no idea Jack had been sitting in the exact seat he leaned on. “Jack! you gave me a fright.” He said breathing heavily while he held his chest. Jack frowned and stood up from the chair with his hands on his hips. “I gave you a fright?” He asked all perplexed as he crossed his arms. “I mean you scared me, I didn’t know you were sitting there.” “Are you sure there isn’t anything you wanna talk to me about?” Jack asked him once again.
“Like why you don’t ask about my songs anymore or how your appetite has changed and why you’re using expressions like ‘you gave me a fright’?” Jack asks while circling him intimidatingly. Andre was undoubtedly nervous. “Jack I changed a lot over the summer…that’s all.” He said calmly and surprisingly Jack accepted it. “Okay.” or so Andre thought. “Well if I didn’t know any better i’d say it’s almost like you were…” Jack stopped himself. “Forget it, it’s impossible.” He turned around to walk away. “Almost as if I were who, Jack?” Andre asked him curiously. “Nobody, nobody. Forget I mentioned it.” Jack laughed nervously and turned back around. “Almost as if I were…Andre?” At that moment Jack froze.
He turned around and took a couple steps closer to who he thought was Hayden. “You know about Andre?” He asked him surprisingly. Andre took one deep breath before telling Jack “I AM Andre.” Jack’s eyes had never been so wide. He couldn’t believe it but it all made sense now.
Before he could say anything else, Urban stormed in, startling them. “Hayd, why did you take off like that? I told you I wanted to talk to you about something.” Urban noticed Jack still standing in the same spot he was in when Andre told him the truth. He had a look of admiration in his eyes. Like a father holding their child for the first time. It was almost as if he had tears in his eyes. “Jack why are you staring at him like that?”
Andre begged Jack with his eyes to not say a word. “Like what? I’m not looking at him in a special way. I’m looking at him the same way I have in 16 years.” He swallowed down his tears. “Since the day he came back from the hospital. Seven pounds, eleven ounces and twenty one inches, this is how I look at him.” He said as he teared up uncontrollably at the end. “Can I hug him?” Jack was an emotional wreck. He hugged Andre super tight as he rubbed his back. “He’s so awesome. And so grown up.” Jack sobbed.
Andre hugged him back with a very happy smile. It felt good that he could finally officially meet a family member as himself. Jack accepting him with literal open arms was such a nice, warm, reassuring feeling that he will never forget. Jack finally let go of him and started making his way towards his room. Still facing them he tells Andre “I’m gonna order something special for you to eat. What would you like? Anything? You know what? It doesn’t matter, i’m just gonna order everything I can.” And he was gone.
Urban simply shook his head at his weird best friend. “Come here Hayd” He guided Andre to the sofa nearby. “We have to talk.” Andre took a seat on the sofa and Urban sat on the coffee table directly in-front of him. “Okay, shoot.” “Buddy, I wanna know what you think about making Stephanie part of the family.” “Part of OUR family?” Andre asked skeptically. Urban nodded his head. “Yeah.”
Andre pretended to think for a few seconds and replied. “I think it’s an awesome idea.” “Yeah?” “Inspiring!” “You do?” Andre thought of another word. “Brilliant!” He said, full of enthusiasm. “You do?” Urban asked excitingly. “Totally! I mean it’s a dream come true, i’ve always wanted a big sister.”
Urban’s smile dimmed a bit as he laughed nervously. “Uhm Hayd I think we missed the point.” And Hayden said “No we’re not, we’re going to adopt Stephanie. That is so sweet dad.” Urban shook his head immediately saying “No, i’m not going to adopt her. I would like to marry her.”
“MARRY HER?!” Andre jumped up from his seat. And started pacing angrily. “That’s insane! You can’t marry a woman young enough to be my older sister.”
“No puedes hacerme esto.” “Hayd” “Y mi mamá?!” “Hayd” Urban tried to grasp his attention but Andre was rambling non stop. “Nunca estuviste enamorado de nadie, que ves en ella???” “HAYD” Urban finally got him to stop pacing and calm down. “Was that spanish?” Urban was very confused. Since when did his son speak spanish. “I uhm I learned it at camp. Look i’m sorry. Let’s just discuss this calmly and rationally.” He said as he took a couple deep breaths. “Yeah and in english if you don’t mind.” Was Urban’s reply. “Bud what has gotten into you?” “Nothing, it’s just..dad you can NOT marry her it’ll ruin everything.”
Andre couldn’t take his anger anymore and decided to step outside. Urban sighed out of frustration and got up from where he was sitting. As he turned around he caught Jack staring at him from the kitchen opening. “Don’t look at me, I know nothing.” Jack rushed and walked out of Urban’s sight.
Just as Urban was stepping out into the porch, a bright red mustang pulls in. It’s Stephanie. Urban took a seat and stretching his legs out. “Hey Urby!” “Hey” Urban was obviously tired. “You sound stressed.” Stephanie says while taking a seat on Urban’s lap. “How about a drink?” She suggested. “Can you make mine double?” Stephanie giggled before pulling a bell out of her bag and started ringing it loudly. “Jack~” She yelled simultaneously. She repeated this process three times until Jack finally came outside with an annoyed facial expression. “You rang?” He asked sarcastically.
“Could you pour us a drink please? And make Urby’s double.” Jack looked at her as if she just lost her mind. He turned to Urban to see if they were serious. “Please Jack?” Was all Urban said and Jack rolled his eyes and walked back inside as he shook his head in disbelief.
“I told Hayden.” Urban sighed to Stephanie as she played with his hair. “And how did that go?”
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