Lancelot
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When Steve had tried to flip them, so that Billy was on top and Steve was splayed out with his back pressed against the leather like they both liked, Billy had laughed. He had gripped Steve’s hips to keep him in place on Billy’s lap, leaning up to mouth at Steve’s jaw, teeth grazing his pulse while he crooned all mocking and sweet when Steve had made a small, irritated noise at having his plan fucked with. “Poor little princess, is daddy actually making you work for it for once?”
“Fuck off!” Steve had sputtered, pulling away from Billy to smack him in the chest. He’d still had his shirt on at that point, though it was unbuttoned all the way down to his naval. He hated it when Billy called him Princess, which really only seemed to spur Billy into doing it as often as possible. The daddy shit was another Billy thing. Steve refused to call him that, no matter how much Billy insisted Steve had called him Daddy before when he’d been cock drunk and fucked out. Steve didn’t remember, so it didn’t count.
There was also the tone. All sickeningly sweet, like Steve was some spoiled thing who never put in any of the work. Like Billy wasn’t the one who liked it better when Steve was pliant.
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Bookmarked by Lancelot
22 Jan 2026
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“There’s a great music store down the block. Tons of great restaurants, too, if you were ever—you know—if you wanted to do that.” Sadly, Jon had started to pull off the soiled t-shirt and changed into a shirt, his fingers shaking gently as he buttoned himself up. Remnants of leftover adrenaline zigzagging its way around his nervous system like speeding cars racing down backcountry roads. Potholed outskirts that caused a lack of inhibitions. That sort of thing. The thrill of the chase and the smell of Steve’s sweat and tears still in his sinuses, Steve could see it in the damp shine of Jon’s eyes as he pulled on a pair of jeans and watched as Steve slid his hand down his belly and into his pubes. His tongue dipped into his bottom lip as he continued to watch him, depressing the flesh in the centre as he zipped up his fly and muttered, “Get out of bed, Harrington.”
~*~
Stellar collision. That's what it felt like to let Jonathan lead him into bed in his pokey little apartment in New York. Something you didn't come back from.
Series
- Part 2 of got me a movie, i want you to know
Bookmarked by Lancelot
09 Jan 2026
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He tries Robin first. There’s no answer. Steve’s pretty sure she’s out on a date tonight. Good for her. Next is Nancy. Well, he thinks he dials Nancy’s number, but a very distinctly male voice answers—
“Hello?”
“Heey—wait, Nancy?” Steve asks, side-eyeing his phone.
“Uh, no? Steve? This is Jonathan, you called me, not Nancy.”
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Steve is lonely, missing his friends, and makes a misdial, calling Jonathan instead of Nancy. What was meant to be a simple talk turns into something more fun, something more fulfilling.Series
- Part 1 of postcanon stonathan
Bookmarked by Lancelot
08 Jan 2026
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The day after the phone call, Steve had felt a little weird about it, but he didn’t get any crazy phone calls from Nancy, so he assumed that if Jonathan is freaking out, he’s likely doing it silently, something manageable. Steve’s world didn’t end when he woke up in the morning, no screaming calls or broken friendships, so he carried on about his normal Saturday like nothing was different.
And really, nothing had changed.
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Steve and Jonathan meet up post-phone sex.Series
- Part 2 of postcanon stonathan
Bookmarked by Lancelot
08 Jan 2026
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Jonathan moves like he’s trying to recreate a painting he’s never seen, one that’s been vaguely described to him. And Steve thinks that there’s some part, deep down, that does remember him, because, as unfamiliar with this person as he is, Jonathan still kisses him the way he used to.
Bookmarked by Lancelot
24 Dec 2025